#emily prentiss angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hotchnisslvr · 12 days

Text

for her, i’d endure

pairing: emily prentiss x reader

rating: t

word count: 7.6k

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: torture, descriptions of blood/injuries, drugs

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

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

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

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

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

Emily. That’s Emily’s voice.

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

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

“Don’t panic.”

“Emily?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His lip curls as he takes a shuddering breath.

“I think I did, didn’t I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A single gunshot cracks through the air like a whip.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•

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

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

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

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

“Too bright,” you grumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But Derek—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How bad is it?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hotch’s features soften. “I know.”

“I couldn’t stop him.”

“There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that about?” you ask.

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

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

“Understood.”

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

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

“To see Emily.”

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

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

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

Hotch smiles reassuringly. “Five minutes.”

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

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

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

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

“Are you ready?” Hotch asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you,” she says.

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

“Impossible,” Emily promises.

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rainydayathogwarts · 1 month

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Open arms - Emily Prentiss

Smut - the way this fic has been sitting half written in my drafts forever. Go me for finally getting it done. Summary: Emily can't help but approach her ex in a dimly-lit bar wc: 2.1k

Emily thought that the night would be nice and relaxing for her and the team, celebrating another closed case at their favourite bar, their laughter drowning out the sounds of other people's conversations in the dim-lit restaurant. That was until her eyes locked in on a familiar figure standing near the bar, most definitely accompanied by someone. Emily froze, her hand tightly gripping her drink, and audibly gasped when you turned around, exposing your face to her.

"Y/n?" She whispered, catching Penelope and Derek's attention, who both turned to look at her. "You okay there Prentiss?" But she really wasn't. You were her only partner who ever stayed up waiting for her to come home from a case, genuinely concerned about her. You held her in your arms, letting her just sit there and open up if she wanted to. If she didn't, it didn't bother you, and you showered her with love nonetheless, always managing to pull a smile from her. And you were definitely the best in bed. Having you withering under her, relentlessly crying out her name was an image Emily would never forget.

She regretted leaving you every day, but it would keep you safe. After seeing what Hotch had to go through, she knew it was the smartest decision. Now that you were there though, in person after over a year of being apart, she wouldn't be able to stay away from you. If you would let her that was. She remembered your reaction, how you completely broke down, calling bullshit on her 'keeping you safe' excuse.

"I'm fine." She said, bringing herself out of her trance to take a long sip of her drink. "That an ex of yours?" Derek questioned, looking at you, now talking to a friend. You looked gorgeous, he thought. Your short black dress showed off your long legs and had a low cut to display your biggest weapon, the heels you wore flexing your calf muscles in the nicest way possible. Your stunning smile exposed your white teeth while a hand flipped your hair over your shoulder. He wondered how a dumbass like Emily was able to get you.

Emily's head shot back in your direction when she heard coughing, only to find out it was you, your face now going red as you choked on your drink, your friend, who Emily now realised she knew from when you dated, rubbing your back. Oh no... When the coughing stopped, you immediately looked back at her, confirming your suspicions. She returned your eye contact, awkwardly waving at you before you were suddenly facing away from her, refusing for the interaction to continue, earning a sympathetic look from your friend.

Emily heard a chorus of "Oof" and "Oh"s from the team, who were all cringing at the interaction. "Shut up." Emily groaned, stealing a shot from in front of Derek and downing it. She coughed twice, ignoring Derek's complaints, and turned to Spencer who was now telling them a statistic about exes. "It was actually found that 44% of Americans get back with their exes at some point after breaking up. And that only includes relationships post-break up instead of one night stands, so I'd say your chances are pretty high."

As much as Emily was unimpressed that Reid was giving her dating advice, she found herself walking up to you the minute your friend left, leaving you alone at the bar. Better me than anyone else shooting their shot, she thought. It was only when she stood right next to you that she realised she had no idea what to say and that the entire team was probably watching their interaction. She cleared her throat, muttering a small "Hey." You jumped slightly, rotating on the bar stool to face your ex-girlfriend. Emily expect you to frown, thrown your drink in her face even, but to her shock, you cracked a small smile at her. "Hey Em". "Can I sit?" She asked, shifting her weight from one leg to another.

You nodded, watching her as she sat. She looked different. She had cut her hair into bangs and wore her hair pin straight instead of the loose curls she'd put them in. She wore a low cut black top with black jeans as well as her go to combat boots. You assumed she came here straight from work. When you looked back up at her face, she was still staring at you, her gaze stuck on your thighs. "Um, can I get you a drink or something?" Her head shot up and she shook it "No, I've had enough to drink. Thanks." A long awkward silence followed and you looked over at the table she had come from, watching as all of her friends' heads shot in the opposite direction apart from one of them, still cluelessly observing you.

"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have-" "No!" You cut her off, cheeks going rosy. "Why don't we go for a walk or something?"

That walk led you both to the side of the road, waiting for a taxi as you made small talk, no discussion of going to either of your apartments until you were both sat in the back of the taxi on the way to your flat. Emily's hand rested on your thigh, both of your sides pressed against each other, faces mere inches apart as her free hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to her. You felt your desire for Emily grow, squeezing your thighs together to get any amount of friction.

Emily's eyes caught the movement, smiling slightly as she felt her own core heat up for you. She leaned towards you to look out of the window, pressing her tits up against you as she tried to see how far away you were from the apartment, making small talk while you waited. The second the taxi driver pulled the car over, she was tossing her money at him and following you out of the car, both her hands resting on your hips as you led her into your fancy building and towards the elevator. The second you were in the elevator, pressing the button to the right floor, her hands were wrapping around your waist and she was pressing her lips against the soft skin of your neck.

You grabbed her hand when the elevator doors opened, leading the way to your apartment and frantically opening and shutting the door before you turned around, throwing yourself into Emily's arms. You slammed your lips onto hers, wrapping your arms around her neck as you pressed your body against hers. Her hands were immediately under the skirt of your dress, groping the fat of your ass in her hands. You pulled away from the kiss, muttering "couch" to Emily, who complied, bending down slightly so she could wrap her arms around the back of your legs and picking you up.

You squealed as she walked you over to your big couch, having forgotten about her FBI agent strength. She dropped you on the couch, crawling over you but you pushed her back so she fell flat on her back on the large couch, throwing a leg over her hips to straddle her. She tried sitting up but you pushed her back, kissing her again so she would give in, letting you take control of the kiss. Her hands trailed up your body until they reached your tits and she tugged at the front of your dress, letting them spill out the front of it. You gasped, and she took your shock to her advantage, throwing her hips up into yours and rolling over so she was on top of you.

Her hands were instantly on your tits, pulling and twisting at your nipple, the other one in her mouth. "Em, Emily!" You begged, trying to grind your hips into hers but she wouldn't listen, taking her time kissing all over your body. When she couldn't reach any more skin due to the fabric of your dress, she fully separated from you, ordering you to turn around so she could undo the zipper. So you got up onto your knees, allowing Emily to undo your dress and pull it above your head, before her hands were wandering again, down your stomach and into the skimpy panties you wore.

She moaned into your ear, feeling how wet you were before both her hands were at your hips again and she was tugging you towards her as she fell backwards, landing you in her laps. She welcomed your kisses, tightly gripping your hips as you ground your cunt on her jean-clad skin. Eventually, you got desperate, tugging her shirt up so you could feel underneath it, hungrily reaching for her tits. At your whine, she finishes the job for you, tossing her shirt somewhere in the room before your hands were back behind her, unclasping her bra.

Before you manage to throw yourself onto Emily even further, you feel her hand under your panties, immediately searching for your clit, which she finds in mere seconds. You hear yourself begging for her, struggling to hold yourself above her. Emily's hands manhandle you so your back in pressed against hers, your legs spread in front of you. Her hands begin wandering once more, and she inserts two fingers into your warm core. You cry out, arching your back as Emily continues to suck hickeys onto your neck.

Her unoccupied hand plays with your tits, alternating which one she massages. Your head rests in the crook of her next, trying not to buck your hips into her hand as she continues fingering you. Your chest heaves with each breath you take, and you're too far into pleasure land to think of how much of a mistake you were making. You feel the familiar knot building up in your stomach and whimper, your hands reaching below you to grasp Emily's thigh. Moaning loudly with an arch of your back, you cum on Emily's hand. Emily, who is whispering praises in your ear and brushing your hair out of your face with her free hand.

With the effects of your orgasm now gone and you catching your breath, you begin to internally cringe. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea? You will yourself to turn around in Emily's arms, whispering "Your turn", fully aware that she wouldn't say yes. "No baby, it's okay. This is just about you." You nod, allowing yourself to fall onto the couch beside her. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Dragging yourself up from the couch, your legs still shaking, you shut the bathroom door before Emily gets the time to follow you.

You wrap a free towel around your torso, mentally cussing yourself out, thinking of a way to get Emily out of your house. The clock on the wall reads 3:28. It's late. You should go home. Repeating the words to yourself, you open the bathroom door to be met with the tall brunette. She smiles widely, a hand coming to your hip to bring you close and kiss you softly. You return her kiss but can't bring yourself to do the same with a smile. She senses the change in your behaviour and you take that as your chance to tell her: "It's late. You should go." You look down and away from her face so you can't see the way her smile drops. "Right. Um, this was fun." Your hum is enough of an answer to her and you practically chase her to the door once she's fully clothed.

Once the door is shut behind her, you peek through the peep hole to see her bring a hand up to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. She calls someone on the phone, someone you can only imagine was at the table with her at the bar. Listening closely through the door, you hear "No Derek, I did not win her heart back. She's really done with me."

But it's late. You should go sleep.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #rainydayathogwarts #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss angst #angst #female reader #smut #criminal minds #criminalmindsfandom #criminal minds fanfic #criminalminds #criminal minds fics #criminal minds fic #derek morgan #criminal minds smut #spencer reid

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mxmmyprentiss · 16 days

Text

she cared (she was just scared)

Summary: You and Emily have known each other since you were fifteen. Back in Rome, she had a hard time fitting in and you were one of her friends, along with John Cooley and Matthew Benton. She was closer friends to you first but she and Matthew spent more time together months before he died. When Matthew passed away, him being a mutual friend of yours, it somehow felt that your connection with her died too. Genre: Angst (with happy ending) Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader Warnings: mentions of abortion, homophobia, catholic/religious guilt, implied suicide of minor character Word count: 7.4K

A/N:

This is basically inspired by Criminal Minds S4E17 Demonology and Kat Victoria's song called "Scared". Sorry for any and all grammar, spelling and other writing mistakes. I've been dealing with writer's block recently and I finished this fic just to keep my gears going. I'm not really satisfied how this fic turned out but I hope it's okay enough to read lol.

All likes, comments and reblogs are welcome. Thank you :)

AO3

You and Emily have known each other since you were fifteen. Back in Rome, she had a hard time fitting in and you were one of her friends, along with John Cooley and Matthew Benton. She was closer friends to you first but she and Matthew spent more time together months before he died. When Matthew passed away, him being a mutual friend of yours, it somehow felt that your connection with her died too.

You haven’t seen Emily since Matthew’s funeral. You saw her sitting in the last row during the funeral mass. You tried to find her after but she was already gone. You and John stayed a bit longer when everyone had gone home, reminiscing about your friend who had gone too soon.

Since that day, it wasn’t just Matthew who left you. Your friends drifted away one by one. First came Emily. Then, eventually, John became too busy to hangout. Matthew took a part of you and your friends with him.

So you learned to be on your own.

Your friends didn’t keep in touch with you and you are with them. But you wish they had. It was a short-lived friendship but it was the best year you ever had.

It was a month later that you found out through one of your teachers that Emily and her mother flew back to America. She didn’t say goodbye; not to you or John. But the next day, you found an envelope with a picture of you, Matthew, Emily and John posing just outside of the church during the first fall of snow. It was taken five months before Matthew passed. There wasn’t a note or anything at the back of the photograph but it’s safe to say it was from Emily. It was her camera that you used.

It was during the first year of college that you saw Emily again. She looked different now. She had thick eyeliner, black lipstick and a leather choker on her neck. Her dark hair was all over the place and you’re absolutely sure, her fashion choices would send her mother into a coma (if she wasn’t already in one yet). Emily looked different but you’re sure it was her.

Your eyes met for a brief moment until she looked away and asked two muscular men behind her to help her carry her suitcases. You looked the other way too.

You finally reached the women’s dormitory after being lost on campus for fifteen minutes. It wasn’t that far from the university apparently. You just sucked at following people’s directions.

Once everything was settled at the lobby, you hiked to your room. Just your luck, the elevator was under maintenance and you had to drag two suitcases and a duffle bag all the way to the third floor using the stairs.

When you reached the third floor - second room to the left, you kept mumbling to yourself - the door was already open. Your roommate probably already beat you there. You just hope she would be friendly and not hoard all the living room space.

You stopped at the door upon seeing a familiar figure. Emily was already setting up her desk in the first room. Her suitcases were open in her bed. She must have sensed you standing at the door. Emily glanced at you. She didn’t smile so you didn’t either.

“Do you need help?” Emily asked. “I hope you don’t mind that I already took this room. I don’t like the sunrise.”

“It’s fine.” You replied, lifting your bags to your room. You started unpacking your things.

Both of your doors remained open. There was unsettling silence in the air as the two of you finished unpacking. You didn’t know why. You two were friends - good old friends - and you should be catching up after not seeing each other for a long time. Instead there’s this.

You wanted to ask Emily a lot of things. You wanted to start at her interesting goth phase; although no amount of make up could mask her big brown eyes. You also wanted to ask her how she’d been; tell her you tried to write to her but you didn’t know where to send it, so the letters piled up and hidden in the pockets of your suitcase.

You felt a poke on your shoulder. “Do you mind if I put up a curtain?” Emily pointed at the big window in the middle of the living room. “My migraine can get bad if there’s too much light.”

“Go ahead. It’s fine.”

“Can you help me?”

“Sure.”

You stepped on the table to reach for the rod. Emily’s hand landed on your leg, supporting you. You put up the curtain. The room went dim but definitely much better for the eyes now. Emily guided you down.

“Thanks, Y/N.” Emily smiled.

“Emily,” You called her. You leaned against her doorframe. She glanced at you. “H-how have you been?”

Emily sat on her bed and continued folding her clothes. When she didn’t speak for two minutes, you gave up on waiting for her reply. You were about to leave when she spoke again.

“I’m sorry,” Emily blurted out. “For not saying goodbye in Rome.”

“It’s alright,” You lied. Of course, it wasn’t alright. She was your friend and she left you. “Your mom travels a lot so…”

Your eyes met Emily’s. She was always hard to read and until now, it’s true.

“It wasn’t just that.” Emily sighed, running her hands through her hair but caught up in the knots. You suppressed your chuckle with a bite of your lower lip. “When Matthew died, I was all over the place. He was my friend and I had a hard time accepting he was gone.”

“So did I.” You mumbled. “And I was your friend too.”

“I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Y/N.”

You didn’t say anything. You sat on your bed and continued unpacking. And as you do so, the silence lingered in the air again.

—

Surprisingly, Emily’s goth phase in college only lasted the day she moved in your dorm. You bet yourself it would last longer but the next day happened. You saw the ambassador’s car in the parking lot and recognized the two armed men in black waiting outside your dorm room; the same ones that helped Emily with her baggage when she moved in. It was Emily’s mother. You never met her in person before but Emily had one family picture of her in her wallet during her stay in Rome.

One of the bodyguards requested that you wait in the lobby and you did. They were too intimidating for you to do otherwise.

Emily didn’t speak to you about it but after the surprise visit from her mother, everything changed. She didn’t wear short skirts with fishnets again. Instead, Emily either wore light-colored blouses or plain long sleeves polos and jeans. She no longer wore makeup except for the lip gloss. Not that Emily needed it anyway. She was always beautiful in a way that makes you wonder why God has favorites.

The sullen look on her face was consistent for almost a week. You wanted to ask if she’s okay. Few attempts were made but Emily had walls higher than the Great Wall.

You have known Emily for only a year during your stay in Rome. It wasn’t a long time but at least, she was more open then, more trusting and carefree. You wonder what happened to that girl you used to know.

—

You met Jennifer Jareau in one of your classes. She was kind and bubbly and lets you borrow her notes when you’re late in class. You two clicked so fast and became inseparable. She insisted you call her “JJ” instead of “Jennifer”.

JJ sat next to you in the cafeteria. She laid her tray down; mac and cheese, sliced apples, orange juice and a small bag of Cheetos.

“Do you want to go to a party tonight?” JJ asked, munching on the Cheetos first. “Derek invited me and he said I could bring a plus one.”

“Derek Morgan? You’re friends with him?”

JJ nodded. “We have two classes together.”

“Don’t tell me you’re crushing on the freshman manwhore.”

JJ rolled her eyes. “He’s actually a good guy. Just very flirty.”

“Where’s the party?”

“Palm Paradise. It’s not that far from your dorm.”

“I don’t know where that is. Is it a bar?”

“Yeah, a big one.”

“Oh, I don’t like big scenes.”

“Come on, I’ll be with you the whole time.” JJ tugged your arm, pleading, “Please.”

JJ was looking at you with her best puppy eyes with a matching pout and you couldn’t say no. “Fine. Just stop looking at me like that.”

“God, you’re so easy.” JJ smirked. “I’ll pick you up at 7.”

—

You and JJ arrived at Palm Paradise together. The place was already filled with college students, most of whom were freshmen. The loud music and smell of booze filled the air. You tugged JJ’s arm and pointed at Derek Morgan dancing with a blonde. JJ called for him and immediately ran to greet JJ and then you. Derek introduced his best friend, Penelope. You doubted they’re just best friends though because for the five minutes that you’ve known them, they already flirted at least four times.

You were sitting on the couch with a cold beer in hand. JJ was sitting beside you and gossiping with Penelope.

The floor was crowded with drunk dancing and grinding college students. You got startled when the crowd roared when a girl with a long red wig and thick glasses stood on the table and lifted her shirt up, revealing a crimson bra.

“Damn, she’s hot.” JJ whispered in your ear.

“And drunk.” You chuckled.

When the girl clumsily alighted from the table, her wig and glasses fell. Then, you met her gaze. You know who those eyes belong to. You couldn’t be wrong.

Emily.

“Hey!” Emily stumbled towards you, clearly intoxicated. “You are here too!”

“S-so are you.” You took her arm and guided her to sit on the couch. “You are so drunk.”

“‘m not.” Emily slurred. She tried to stand up but quickly fell back to her seat. She laughed. “It’s spinny.”

“You know her?”

“Yeah, she’s …” You glanced at Emily whose eyes were closed and head was thrown back at the couch. “She’s my roommate.”

Emily reached for your hand, giggling. “You are so pretty! Why do you always frown?”

“I don’t frown.”

JJ took a quick look at you. “You’re frowning now.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, take her side.”

Emily suddenly pulled your hand causing you to trip over and fall on her lap. JJ and Penelope pursed their lips to suppress a grin.

“What are you doing?” You asked Emily who only smiled drunkenly. Despite being roommates, this was the closest you and Emily have been for the past few weeks and you’re suddenly aware of the pounding in your chest. “Do you need to go home?”

Emily shook her head, still with a tipsy smile on her face. She fiddled the collar of your shirt. “Only if you -” She leaned in, bumping your noses together. “- are coming with me.”

“Y/N, I think she’s drunk. You should take her home.” JJ said.

“But -”

“I’ll be okay. I’ll hang out with Penelope.”

“She’ll be safe with me. I won’t leave her, I promise.” Penelope assured you.

“Okay, leave me a message when you guys get home.” You stood up and put Emily’s arm on your shoulder, guiding her as she stood up. “Let’s go, drunkie.”

Dragging an intoxicated Emily home was harder than you thought. She threw up twice on the sidewalk before even getting in the cab. You had to keep supporting her as she walked too because she kept tripping. But the worst part of it all was that Emily was a flirty and touchy drunk. During the short cab ride, Emily couldn’t keep her hands off your neck, running her fingers up and down your collar, and squeezing your bicep. She kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear and the fluttery feeling in your chest was getting out of hand.

When you reached the dorm, Emily was already passed out so you carried her on your back, praying over and over that she won’t throw up on you. The elevator ride was quick but the walk to your room wasn’t. Emily’s head kept sliding on your shoulder and she’s falling so you had to make a few stops.

You laid Emily down on the sofa when you finally arrived at your dorm room. Her bedroom was locked and you contemplated on whether to just leave her passed out in the living room or not.

“Emily,” you whispered, tucking a hair behind her ear. “Emily, do you have your key?” Her only answer was an annoyed groan. You sighed. How many drinks did she actually have?

You carried Emily on your back again and transported her to your bed. You figured that tomorrow would be a hell of a hangover and she would be more comfortable here than the sofa. You tucked her into your bed and you left her a glass of water and ibuprofen on the bedside for when she wakes up.

You settled on the couch tonight.

—

Emily woke up to a throbbing migraine. The sunlight didn’t make it any better.

Sunlight?

Emily scanned the room. There were movie posters hanging on the wall, a stack of books on the desk and a pile of mixtapes neatly arranged on the shelf. This was definitely not her room.

She drank a glass of water and ibuprofen on the bedside table.

Emily breathed out loud when she realized she’s in her dorm and didn’t end up somewhere unsafe. She found you sleeping soundly on the sofa. Emily accidentally hit her knee on a table beside the sofa. The curse that came from her lips jolted you awake.

“Hey, you’re up.” You said groggily, sitting up. “How are you feeling?”

“Like there’s a rammer inside my head and it’s moving on its own.”

You laughed at her creativity. “Yes, well, alcohol does that.”

“I don’t remember most of what happened. Did you bring me home?”

You nodded. “I had to carry you on my back. You passed out.”

Emily grimaced. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.” You assured her.

“Did I - did I do something embarrassing last night?”

You smirked. “You bet.”

Emily groaned, head on her hands. “I’m never drinking again.”

“You flashed the entire bar.”

“I did?!”

“You did.” You laughed. “You got up on the table and pulled your shirt up. The red bra looks nice, by the way.”

Emily checked the bra underneath her shirt. “Oh, fuck.” She sighed, disappointed and embarrassed about her actions.

“Everyone was drunk, anyway. They probably won’t remember.”

“You weren’t.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t. And JJ and Penelope.”

“Who?”

“My friends.”

“Oh.” Emily’s face turned red. “I-I’m sorry.”

You took Emily’s hand and squeezed it. “It’s okay, Emily. It’s not bad to have fun.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. You haven’t seen her smile in a while.

—

Everything changed between you and Emily since the party. She talked to you more. She smiled more. She no longer avoided your presence despite living in the same apartment. It felt like you were friends again just like before when there were four of you. Except now it’s just two.

Emily was pulling an all-nighter at the living room. She was walking back and forth, reading passages and repeating it back to herself to memorize. You tried not to distract her by tiptoeing quietly to the kitchen to make some midnight snacks.

You made two sandwiches; one for you and one for Emily. You left hers on the center table and she mouthed a thank you and you nodded in return.

You left your bedroom door open just enough so you could peer at Emily. You watched her walk back and forth. The bags under her eyes were visible. She’s been pulling all nighters three times a week for a month now. She's obviously exhausted. Midterms were coming and Emily Prentiss was nothing but an overachiever.

After an hour, Emily finally rested on the sofa. She stretched her legs, placing her feet on the center table. Her breaths were loud and erratic.

“You should take a break. Get some rest.” You told her worriedly.

“I’m okay, Y/N. I only have one more chapter to read.” She replied, eyes closed. “Why are you not sleeping yet?”

Because you weren’t.

“Not yet sleepy. I had coffee.”

“You don’t drink coffee,” she snorted.

There was that fuzzy feeling in your stomach again because Emily remembered. She remembered that you didn’t like coffee. It’s silly to feel pleased about that.

Emily eventually fell asleep on the couch around 3 a.m. You found her textbook snuggled to her chest and she was clutching her notes in her hand. You snatched a blanket from your room and tucked her in.

You were going back to your room to sleep when you heard Emily talking in her sleep. It’s hard to make out what she was saying. It went on for a minute until Emily started frantically shaking her head and the mumbles grew louder. Emily was calling for your name, then Matthew, then John.

“Emily,” You tapped her shoulder. Nothing. “Emily, wake up.” You stroked her face gently as you tapped her leg. “Emily, wake up.”

Emily’s eyes snapped open, face now covered in cold sweat. She looked around, suspicious that whatever it was in her nightmare followed her here.

“It’s okay, you’re safe, Em.” You promised her, squeezing her arm. “Do you need anything?”

Emily took a couple of deep breaths. “Can you … can you stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere. Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” You cleared your throat. “I mean, sleep in my bed with me. Sleep sleep, not sleep sleep.”

If she didn’t just have a bad dream, Emily would have laughed. She only nodded.

You woke up the next morning with your head on Emily’s chest and her arms wrapped around you. Her breaths were synchronized with your own like a lovely duet. Her scent filled your head.

—

Emily sleeping with you in your room had become a routine. Sometimes you slept in hers too but she insisted that your mattress was far more comfortable.

“I thought you hated sunlight.” You murmured one night, your backs facing each other. “But you liked sleeping here.”

“I don’t hate you.” She murmured back.

I don’t hate you.

You wanted to ask Emily what it meant because when it came to her, things were rarely black and white. Did it mean she liked you? Love is the opposite of hate, after all, so did that mean that she loved you? Or is it just something she said without thinking and didn’t mean anything by it at all?

You wanted to ask her but there’s something caught up in your throat and you decided not to.

Emily was the one to fall asleep first. You lied in bed unmoving, staring at the window, crescent moon peeking into view.

You felt Emily’s arm wound around your stomach. She pulled you closer to her, hugging you. You could feel her breathing on your neck. She was still sleeping soundly.

You decided you can worry about this some other time. Because right now, it felt right.

—

“Hey, angel.” JJ was standing outside your door, holding takeouts and a notebook. “I thought I’d drop by and let you borrow my notes. Also I bought you chicken soup.”

“You didn’t have to, JJ.” You smiled and let her in. “Can I get you anything? Water? Juice?”

“No, I’m okay.” JJ placed a hand on your forehead. “You’re still burning up. Have you taken your meds yet?”

“I just did. Waiting for it to kick in.”

JJ was telling you about something funny that happened in Professor Rossi’s class when Emily came in with the biggest smile on her face but it was suddenly gone when she spotted you and JJ sitting on the couch.

“Hi,” JJ waved at her and Emily waved back with an awkward smile. “I just dropped by to bring my notes to Y/N and give her soup.”

“That’s … thoughtful?” Emily raised her eyebrow, confused as to why was your friend telling her that.

“Yeah, she told me she was sick -”

“You’re sick? You said you didn’t have classes.” Emily quickly placed a hand on your forehead then to your neck. “You’re hot.” She glared at you when you wiggled your eyebrows. “Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got my meds and my soup.” You grinned. “Thanks, Jay.”

“You’re welcome.” JJ stood up. “I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow? Leave me a message, okay?”

“I will.”

JJ hugged you and kissed your cheek. You glanced at Emily, clenching her jaw, one eyebrow raised. “Get better fast.” JJ ruffled your hair before leaving.

When you turned around, Emily was glaring at you, arms crossed. You stared blankly. She didn’t say anything and marched to her bedroom. Before you could ask what’s wrong, she already slammed the door.

Emily didn’t crawl to your bed that night nor did she talk to you the next morning. But she left you cooked meals in the kitchen until you felt better.

—

It was five days later when Emily started speaking with you again. Truthfully, you were getting tired of the quick, sidelong glances she was throwing at you the past few days. You tried to make conversation but she quickly hid in her room every time. She didn’t even ask to sleep in your room when you heard her kicking and crying during another nightmare and you were there to wake her up.

Emily was cooking breakfast in the kitchen and asked if you wanted to have some. You nodded, smiling. You didn’t know what you did wrong but at least she’s not ignoring you anymore.

She prepared a plate for you; pancakes, bacon and hash brown. She poured orange juice on your glass. “Here you go,” she said, sliding the plate towards you. “I couldn’t make the pancakes round so you’re gonna have to forgive me.” You both chuckled.

You and Emily ate in silence. It was so quiet that you could hear her every time she chewed on the pancakes and sipped her coffee.

“Emily?” You finally broke the hush. Emily hummed. “Are you mad at me?”

She glanced at you and huffed. “No. Why would I be?”

You shrugged. “Then, do you like me?”

“Of course,” Emily answered without hesitation. “Of course, I like you. You’re my friend.”

You felt a pang of disappointment. “Not just as a friend, Emily.”

There was no reply.

“Emily?” You tried again.

“Why’d you ask?”

“Just answer me.”

You weren’t angry at her. You just wanted answers. You were tired of thinking and wondering why everything felt different one day like you were friends again, and different the next day like you don’t know each other.

She let out a loud exhale. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“You … you're someone I want in my life for a long time. I don’t want to lose you.”

You knitted your brows. “Why would you lose me?”

“I - I don’t know. It’s what always happens to me. I can’t risk having stupid feelings for my best friend, for you.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Having feelings for me is stupid?” You asked, obviously offended by Emily’s choice of words.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Do you need to look up synonyms for stupid?”

“Y/N, please -”

“I never should have asked. Let’s just forget this happened.”

“Y/N, that’s not what I mean. You know that.”

“No, I don’t!” You couldn’t control the frustration in your voice anymore. “I don’t understand why you keep pushing and pulling me around. You already did this to me when we were in Rome. When anyone came near me, you drove them away. You called me amore mio for months but got awkward the minute I called you mine. You almost kissed me once when we sneaked out for John’s birthday. You told me then that if I was a boy, I’d be the love of your life. Did you know it was killing me, Emily?” Your voice was already trembling and your lips quivering. You blinked a few times to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. Emily’s eyes remained on you. “It was killing me because I would have loved you so much if you had let me.”

Emily reached out for your hand but you were quick to retract it. You wiped your cheeks of the wet proof of the agonizing pain you were feeling.

“I won’t bother you with my stupid feelings anymore.” You muttered before storming back to your room.

—

The days passed by excruciatingly fast. You only had two weeks to study for your upcoming finals and the lack of sleep every night and the intense headaches weren’t helping your cause.

Your dorm room has been quiet since your fall out with Emily. You did your best to avoid her at all costs. When she’s in the kitchen, you’d stay in the living room until she’s done and when she’s in the living room, you’d sprint to the kitchen. You caught her glancing at you a few times but you quickly averted your eyes each time.

JJ came over to study with you two nights before your finals. She was running on coffee and you on energy drinks. Penelope was supposed to go study with you too but sleep seduced her early.

“Where’s Emily?” JJ asked.

You only shrugged in reply.

“Are you in a lovers' quarrel or something?”

“No, we’re not lovers.”

“Ah, but you guys fought?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it, JJ.”

“You like her, don’t you?”

Aside from being a good people reader, JJ has this crazy instinct. You hate it sometimes.

“Still don’t wanna talk about it.” You said. JJ respected that but you knew she would ask again one of these days.

JJ concentrated on one subject and made an outline to share with you once she’d finished. You did the same on a different subject that you shared. You exchanged notes and bounced different ideas and knowledge with each other. Eventually, the caffeine wore off. JJ drifted off, curled in a fetal position on the floor. You followed her five minutes later.

—

Emily had been spending more time at the library and coffee shop to study. She couldn’t concentrate at the dorm and being in close proximity with you. Every time Emily sees you, the gnawing ache in her chest grows. And no matter how many times she had gone over head about what’s the right thing to say, she couldn’t trust herself to not fuck it up and mess things up even more.

She came home around midnight. She unlocked the door and opened it as quietly as possible, as she was afraid she might wake you. She knew you liked studying in the living room because your room felt small.

Tonight you weren’t alone though. Emily saw a friendly blonde lying on the floor with you. You weren’t cuddling, Emily was somehow relieved of that. But there was a tightness in her chest that she couldn't get rid of. Her jaw clenched at the sight. She’s not mad at you or her. There was a part of her that wanted to come in between the both of you just so there will be space. It was too close and Emily envied that. It wasn’t long ago that she was the one lying beside you. In your bed. With her arms wrapped around you.

Emily missed you.

When Emily lied in bed, she tried to redirect her thoughts on the topics she memorized in hopes of reciting them again but the thought of you occupied her mind. Every toss and turn in her bed, there was you; in Rome, in your bed, in her bed, in the kitchen, in the living room, at the campus.

For the first time in a long time, Emily allowed her mind to travel back to the Catholic international school in Rome where she first met you.

The uniform was ridiculously prude; skirt too long, vest too thick, socks too high. You stood out to Emily on the first day back in class after a week break in November. The pink streaks underneath your hair caught the headmistress’ attention and lectured you in front of the class. She asked you to dye it back to your natural hair color. You argued that your hair can’t affect your studies but the headmistress was firm and asserted that it was a matter of discipline, that if you couldn’t obey authority then you’d grow up to be a badly behaved person and bad people do not go to heaven.

After the first period, Emily saw you in the hallway. You were talking to two boys and judging by their uniforms, Emily guessed they were a year older. You were too busy ranting to the boys and rolling your eyes to notice that you were leaning against Emily’s locker.

“Excuse me. I just need to get to my locker,” she spoke. You glanced at her and apologized. The three of you moved aside and got back to your conversation. After Emily dropped her books to her locker, she spoke again, “It’s not true, you know.”

Your eyes met Emily’s, bringing your conversation to a halt. “What is?” You asked.

“You’re not gonna be a bad person just because you have pink streaks on your hair.” She pursed her lips. “Or that you’re not gonna go to heaven.”

“Exactly!” The taller boy tapped Emily’s shoulder in agreement. “I told you, Y/N.” He turned to Emily. “What’s your name?”

“Emily. Emily Prentiss.”

“John Cooley.” He and Emily shook hands then he pointed to the other boy, “This is Matthew Benton.” Matthew waved his hand. “And you two have been acquainted, I suppose?”

Emily nodded.

“Thanks, Emily.” You uttered. “Do you want to join us for lunch?”

Emily smiled. “I’d love that.”

Emily learned that you’re neighbors with Matthew and John. She didn’t like hanging out with boys but they eventually grew on her and so did you. Due to being raised by her mother, Emily has always been a strict rule follower, no matter how ridiculous the rules are. But Emily found freedom in you, Matthew and John. Emily wasn’t afraid of herself, of being herself.

You were on vacation with your family during the Easter break. John was on a trip with his father. Matthew’s family devoted their time to church and stayed home. She only had Matthew to spend time with during the break.

“Matthew,” Emily gripped his arm. “Matthew, I need your help.”

“What is it?”

“I … there are two things I want to tell you but promise me, you won’t tell anybody else. Not even Y/N or John.”

Matthew looked at her with deep concern in his eyes. “You’re scaring me. What is it?”

“I think I’m in love with her.”

Matthew huffed a laugh. Even without mentioning your name, Matthew knew. It was obvious. “You think?”

“I… I don’t know. Isn’t it wrong to feel this way?”

Matthew sighed. “You know what I think? I think love is only wrong if it’s not true.”

“But … we’re both girls. That’s forbidden.”

“Emily, the world is big. You won’t be confined in that school forever.”

Emily knew that. It probably won’t be long before she has to transfer again. But if she accepted this now, if she accepted this part of herself, everything would change. And although change was the only constant thing in her life, she wasn’t ready for this one yet.

“What’s the second thing?”

“I’m pregnant.” Tears welled up in Emily’s eyes, hands shaking both from the snow and the panic coursing her veins. “I… I don’t want it. I just … I tried because I wanted to know if it was possible that I’d be attracted to a boy but I’m not.” Emily buried her face on her palms. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you, Emily. Nothing.” Matthew hugged her tight, telling her everything’s going to be okay and promised that he will help her.

He accompanied Emily to the church for some advice. The priest told her she wouldn’t be welcomed back to the congregation if she got an abortion.

Matthew had always found reason through his faith in God. His family was devoted Catholics and so was he. But there’s only much faith he can put in God if his own people wouldn’t even at least try to understand his friend. If God’s love is unconditional, shouldn’t it manifest in his church and its people?

Four weeks into the pregnancy, Matthew found an abortion clinic. He held Emily’s hand, promising he would be waiting for her, that everything will be fine.

Everything was fine now but Matthew was gone.

Emily wondered if she told you everything, would you still accept her? Would everything be different? Would you hate her?

—

The semester ended yesterday. You were packing your things to go back home and take a well-deserved break. JJ had already gone home last night and Penelope went home with Derek, leaving you the last to go.

Well, except Emily.

Her bedroom door was open. She wasn’t packed yet and it looked like she wasn’t planning to. She had Chinese takeout boxes laying on her bed. You could hear the movie she was watching but couldn’t make out what language it was. Most probably French. Emily loved watching French movies.

It’s been weeks since you last spoke to each other. You avoided each other long enough for it to be a routine. It felt like you’ve been living with a ghost.

You took a deep breath and softly knocked on the door. Emily looked up to you and paused her eating. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I’m going home.”

“Oh. Uh, take care.”

“Thanks.” You forced a smile. “When are you leaving?”

“For what?”

“For the semester break.”

“Uh, I have no plans. My mother’s in Ukraine.”

“So you’re staying here?” Emily nodded. “The dorms will close next week though.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

You didn’t know what came on to you when you blurted out, “You can come home with me if you want. My parents just moved to our farmhouse.”

Emily stared at you for a minute, contemplating whether you’re joking or not. “Are you sure?” She asked. She was skeptical knowing what happened the last time you talked.

“I’m still mad,” You reminded her. “But I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Are you leaving now?”

“I can give you an hour to pack.”

Emily felt the tightness in her chest loosen out of the blue. Now that you’re talking to her again, she can finally breathe. “Okay.”

—

You and Emily arrived at your parents’ house just in time to watch the sunset. The view was magnificent from the driveway.

“It’s beautiful,” Emily breathed, looking up at the heavenly hues of the sky. “Was it always like this?”

“Yes,” you answered. “It’s more beautiful after the rain. Sometimes a rainbow appears.”

Emily’s eyes glistened as the sun set. For a moment, you forgot that you’re not exactly on great terms with her yet.

Your father was the first one to greet you the moment you entered the living room. He ran and lifted you in a tight hug. “I missed you, kid!”

“I missed you too, pa.”

“Who’s this?”

“Pa, this is Emily. She’s my friend.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Your father and Emily shook hands. “The view outside is just gorgeous.”

“Well, I hope the inside won’t disappoint you.”

Emily chuckled. “Your home is lovely, sir.”

“Well, look who it is!” Your mom quickly descended the stairs.

“Ma!” You ran to your mother and she welcomed you in a tight embrace. “I missed you.”

“Always a mama’s girl that one,” your father whispered to Emily and she grinned.

—

It only took ten minutes for your mom to figure it out.

“I know that look.” Your mother told you when you were alone in the kitchen. She was cooking your favorite stew while you were preparing the ingredients for your mother’s cookie recipe.

“What look?”

“The look.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ma.”

“I saw the way you were looking at her through the window. It’s the same look your father and I give each other.”

“You mean cheesy and disgusting?” You smirked. To your surprise, your mother smacked the back of your head. “Ouch! What was that for?”

“Tell her you like her before I smack you again.”

“Stop saying nonsense, Ma. I don’t like her.”

“Keep telling yourself that and you’ll lose your chance.”

“I already told her,” you confessed defeatedly. “She doesn’t like me that way.”

“Are you sure? Or was she just scared?”

You shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. If she doesn't want to be with me, it’s fine.”

“She’s here with you now.”

“It’s different, Ma. She’s got nowhere to go. We’re not together together.”

“Ah, you kids.” She shook her head in disappointment. “Making everything complicated.”

“And it’s not like homophobia has gone extinct, Ma.”

Your mother sighed and pulled you for a hug. “We will love who you love, honey. I don’t fucking care about what the world says.”

You smiled against her chest. “Fucking thanks, Ma.” That earned you another smack. “You said it first!”

—

It’s been seven days at your farmhouse. Your mother and father taught you and Emily all about gardening. You were impressed by their growing orchard on the back of the house. To think that they had just retired from being federal agents four months ago and started this whole thing a month after retirement.

Emily had an easy time adjusting and getting along with your family. Aside from your parents, she also met your parents' orange cat, Denver. Denver didn’t like to cuddle with you but would snuggle with Emily. You didn’t take it personally. Emily was simply a cat person. She used to feed the stray cats outside your school when you were in Rome.

“Emily’s nice.” Your father said abruptly one night when you were on the couch with him and your mother. Emily called it a night and headed to the guest room. She was tired from all the gardening with your parents.

“She is,” your mother agreed.

“Stop it. Both of you.”

“So when did you start dating, honey?”

“Pa, we’re not dating.”

“You’re not?” Your father looked at you unbelievably. Then he turned to your mother. “They’re not?”

“You know kids these days. It’s never simple.”

“Stop talking about me as if I’m not sitting right here.”

“Our daughter is hopeless.” Your mother sighed.

—

A knock on the door startled you awake. You opened the door and Emily was standing there with bloodshot eyes. She obviously had another nightmare and from the looks of it, it was worse than what you witnessed before.

“Are you okay?” You ran your hand up and down her arm. “Do you need anything?”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Sure,” you replied unhesitatingly.

You took the left side of the bed and Emily on the right. You put a long pillow in between.

“Y/N.” It was weak and soft but you heard her call.

“Yeah?”

Emily swallowed hard. “Can I … can I talk to you about it?”

You turned the night lamp back on and set it to dim light then you turned around to face Emily. She was picking on her nails, a bad habit she had since you’ve known her. You gently stroke her wrist to get her to stop. She did. She intertwined your hands together instead.

“You can tell me anything and everything, Em.” You squeezed her hand. “Even if it didn’t feel like it recently, I’m still your friend.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I had a dream about Matthew.” Emily let out a shaky breath. “He blamed me for what happened to him.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Matthew was a troubled boy.”

“And that’s because he met me.”

“Emily, you can’t think that.”

“But it’s true.” She insisted. “I want to tell you for so long. It’s eating me up.”

“So, tell me. I’m right here. No matter what.”

Her grip on your hand tightened as if pleading you not to run, not to leave.

“I got pregnant in Rome.” Emily confessed, almost in one breath but you caught it. Your hand still hadn’t left hers. “It was with a boy I experimented with so I could forget about the way I felt about you. I wanted to know if I could still be attracted to a boy and I tried. It happened but I felt so bad about it the next day and I never saw him again.”

“Did he force you? Did he do something you’re not comfortable with?” Emily shook her head and you sighed deeply in relief.

“I told Matthew about it during the Easter break. I asked for advice at church and the priest told me that getting abortion was a wrong thing and I won’t be welcome to come back to the congregation. But Matthew … he was angry. He started questioning his beliefs. He said that if God’s love is unconditional, why is it not manifested in the church and its people?”

“And he was right, Emily. Religious people are the most hypocritical of them all.”

“Matthew found an abortion clinic. He stayed with me until the procedure was done. He cared for me and I killed him.” Emily sobbed on the pillow separating you.

“You didn’t kill Matthew, Emily.” You reassured her, stroking her face. “Look at me. You didn’t kill Matthew. He was ill. His family was overly strict and religious. When he started questioning the congregation, his family was embarrassed. They didn’t like Matthew asking questions and having his own opinions. They didn’t listen to him. All that family cared about was worshiping the Lord and guilt tripping everyone else that didn’t align with their so-called beliefs. Matthew was different from them. He was a much better person than both his parents combined.”

“You - you’re not angry?”

You shook your head. “I just wish you had told me back then. I could’ve been there for you. Just like Matthew was.” You removed the pillow in between. You wrapped your arms around Emily and pulled her in, taking her in as close as possible to you. Whatever you felt during your fight had vanished completely. There was just Emily.

Emily, who had a hard time fitting in when she was fifteen.

Emily, who told you you’re not going to hell just because of the pink streak in your hair.

Emily, who became your best friend..

Emily, who you adored wholeheartedly and loved intensely.

Emily. Emily. Emily.

Her name was your lifeline.

“I love you, Y/N.”

It wasn’t said casually nor carelessly. It was anything but those things.

It wasn’t spur of the moment. It was the moment.

It was deliberate, careful. It was a confession, a promise.

Most of all, it was the truth. And the truth was liberating.

“I tried to stop myself from feeling this way but I can’t. I don’t want to fight it anymore. Amore mio, my heart is yours,” Emily took your hand to her chest, where her heart is caged and beating just as fast as yours were. “It’s yours to keep; yours to break; yours to make whatever of it.”

“And mine has always been yours, Emily.”

You can’t really tell since when. Loving Emily was the most natural thing. You couldn’t even remember a day that you didn’t love her since you started loving her. You just do.

Emily was tired of overthinking it. She leaned forward and closed the gap between your lips. Her hands gently cupped your cheeks. Your hand rested on her shoulder.

Emily was kissing you.

She was finally kissing you.

Passionately.

Tenderly.

Slowly.

Desperate I love you’s exchanged between both of your lips.

This couldn’t be wrong, Emily thought. Not when it was the most right Emily ever felt in her life.

#jaye writes #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 28 days

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

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’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.

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

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

“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.

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plutofromafar · 1 month

Text

let's go home

A/N: heyyy... it's been a while (two years) since i've written something. life just got busy, but i hope you're all doing well. anyway, i've been rewatching criminal minds and got inspired to write this. i hope you like it!

pairing: season 6 Emily Prentiss x fem!Y/N

warnings: angst, toxic relationship, control issues, trust issues, canon character death, grief, (but everything is okay in the end)

word count: 2517

Read on AO3

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"Where have you been?"

You dropped your bag to the floor and shrugged off your jacket, hanging it up.

"Out. How was work?"

Emily ignored your question, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall, watching you with curious eyes.

"Out with who?"

"No one, Em. Am I not allowed to leave this apartment?" You sighed.

"You never just leave without telling me where you're going or who you're with, don't give me an attitude."

You roll your eyes, heading to the bedroom. Emily stopped you.

"You're not going to bed without telling me where you've been."

"Why does it matter? You've been at work. I just wanted to get some fresh air," you threw your hands up in slight frustration. "You leave every morning, and I don't question you. Why can't I do the same?"

"Because I don't trust you!" Emily raised her voice. She blocked off your path, glaring at you.

You narrowed your eyes, steeling your composure to not show that her words had hurt you.

"Why not? I'm your girlfriend."

"And that means I should trust you just because we are dating? You've given me plenty of reasons not to trust you."

"Like what?"

Emily placed her hands on her hips, standing up straighter. "You've been secretive, you're too friendly with other women, you're always on your phone, you hide things from me."

Rage bubbled inside your chest. "Do you think you're a saint, Emily? You are no different from me. How many times have I tried to ask you about your day, just for you to shut down? How many times have I been tossed aside while you prioritize your work? How many hours have I spent waiting for you to come home, worrying that you were shot dead when you'd really just fallen asleep at your desk?"

Emily flinched, surprised by seeing you so angry, and how true your words were.

"Y/N, that's different. i'm just... busy all the time, or have classified information..."

You felt tears sting in your eyes.

"I can't do this anymore," you whisper.

Emily froze in place at your words, watching you grab a duffle bag from the hallway closet.

"What?"

You swiftly moved to the bedroom, feeling Emily follow behind you. You started packing a few essentials, deciding that you would come back later for more things.

"You know what."

"You're leaving?"

"I don't think you're ready to be in a serious relationship, Em. I saw the signs from the start, but I overlooked them because I liked you. But I can't put up with all the secrets, the lying, and the distrust anymore. I'm your girlfriend; I trust you more than I trust anyone in the whole world, and it hurts that you don't feel the same about me."

You wiped your tears.

Emily took a step forward, feeling a surge of panic.

"Sweetheart, listen, it's not like that... I..." she faltered, unable to think of anything that would fix this situation.

You waited for Emily to continue, but her silence was enough of an answer. You zipped up your bag and walked over to Emily, giving her a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, Em. But I can't stay here."

Emily's face briefly softened at your kiss, but her heart dropped as your departure started becoming very real.

"I-" Emily's voice cracked. "Can I talk to you? Please?"

You stopped by the door, considering your next words very carefully.

"I've given you so many chances to talk to me. If all it takes is for me to leave, then it's probably too late."

A wave of hurt crashed over Emily, even though she knew there was a truth to your words.

"I promise I'm ready to talk now."

You made the grave mistake to turn back, and one look at her sad brown eyes was convincing enough. Wordlessly, the two of you walked to the couch and sat down.

Emily took your hand, breathing a sigh of relief when you didn't pull away.

"I know I haven't been the best girlfriend over the past couple months, okay? I-I admit, I've been keeping some things from you, but you have to understand..."

"Understand what?" You voice was soft, but your tone harsh.

"Understand why I was keeping them from you, I just..." Emily sighed. "I was scared. Scared to tell you certain things."

You looked into her eyes. "Is something happening at work? Or is it something in our relationship?"

There was a moment of hesitation before Emily spoke.

"I-it's work-related, yes... and it's the reason I've been so... on edge."

"Does it have something to do with Ian Doyle?" You pieced together.

Emily froze, the name she never wanted you to know of coming out of your mouth.

"Where did you hear that?"

You sensed the anxiousness in her voice, and you knew you were treading on dangerous waters.

"I came home early one night, and I overheard you talking on the phone to someone. You sounded stressed out, I figured it had something to do with work."

Emily nodded slowly.

"I... H-how much of that did you hear?"

You shook your head, "Not much. Just a few names and details. 'Interpol', 'undercover', 'Lauren Reynolds.'"

Just hearing those words alone made Emily anxious.

"I need you to keep what you heard a secret, okay? Don't tell anyone, not even the team. Can you promise me that?"

"Yes, of course."

A wave of silence washed over the two of you. Emily fiddled with her fingers, but never took her eyes off yours.

"Emily, I don't have to worry about losing you, do I?"

Emily managed a small smile, holding your gaze for the longest time.

"No, you don't have to worry about that. I'm not going to let anything keep me away from you, Y/N. I promise."

It was like the storm clouds had finally parted, revealing a glimpse of blue skies above. For the first time in your year-long relationship, Emily had finally opened up to you about something.

You slowly moved in for a hug, giving Emily the chance to opt out if she wanted to. But she leaned into your embrace, hugging you with such intensity, as if you'd vanish if she let go of you. Emily had never been so scared to lose someone before, and she knew that she could never risk losing you ever again.

You were the first to break the silence.

"This can't happen again, Em. I need you to be honest and trust me. I value your feelings, and I don't want to lose you."

Emily nodded as you voiced her thoughts exactly.

"I know. I promise... There's, uh... one other thing I need to tell you about."

"What is it?" You pull away to look at her.

"I need to go somewhere tomorrow to deal with an issue from my Interpol days. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone..."

Emily stood up, walking over to the window and knelt down. She flipped up a floorboard, taking out a padded envelope.

"If I'm not back within a week, I want you to open this."

You took the envelope.

"What are you planning to do, Em?" your voice shook.

"It's just a precaution," Emily lied in order to not worry you. "There's a risk that comes with every mission I go on. I just want you to keep this for the future."

When you didn't reply, Emily took your hands into hers.

"I'm going to be fine."

You nodded, touching your forehead to Emily's.

"Will you stay? Come to bed with me?"

Emily's soft and vulnerable words sent an ache to your heart.

"Yeah."

The two of you settled into bed. You laid on your side, face to face with Emily. She leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead, wrapping her arms protectively around you.

"I love you, Y/N.”

"I love you, too."

Long after you dozed off, Emily remained awake. She wanted to remember how your body molded perfectly against hers, the smell of your shampoo and how your hair tickled her nose, and how her heart beat differently when she was around you. She worried about how you would hold up if something happened to her. She tried to stay as still as possible to not disturb your sleep. After what felt like hours, she let sleep overcome her as well.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The next day, you woke up to an empty bed. Emily had already left as she usually did, but this time it came with a heavy, lingering feeling. Of what, you weren't sure yet.

You sat up in bed and glanced at the alarm clock on Emily's bedside table, which told you that it was almost 12pm. You felt something on your forehead and you reached up to find it was a bright pink sticky note. You laughed, remembering how Emily used to leave notes stuck on your forehead if she woke up and left before you.

“Be home soon. I love you,” the note read in Emily’s cursive handwriting. You stuck it to the wall above your nightstand.

You had the day off from work, so you started your day of relaxation. A few hours later, a knock on the door jolted you out of your focus on a TV show you were binging. Your limbs protested as you stood up from the position you’ve been sitting in all day.

A familiar face stood behind the door.

“Andersen?”

Agent Andersen had a solemn expression on his face.

“Y/N, I regret to inform you that Agent Prentiss has been injured in the field. I’ve been sent by Agent Hotchner to bring you to the hospital.”

The world went silent as his words sunk in. This wasn’t the first time during your relationship that Emily had gotten injured, but it wasn’t the kind of thing that got easier every time.

The journey to the hospital was a blur. Before you knew it, you were in the waiting room. A heavy silence occupied the room as you and the team waited for an update.

Finally, the doors opened and you stood up, almost falling over until Rossi took your arm. With one look at JJ’s face, you knew your worst fears had come true.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

It’s been seven months since Emily died. Seven months since you attended her funeral. Seven months since you quit your job, packed your bags, and left town without telling anyone.

You’ve been living in a permanent state of anxiety and grief ever since Emily’s passing. You could barely register anything happening around you, not with the words “she never made it off the table” echoing in your mind constantly. You currently resided in New York with your friend, who was in their first year of residency and basically lived at the hospital, so you had the apartment to yourself a majority of the time.

You became vaguely aware of your phone ringing as you pulled yourself out of your daze. You were surprised and confused when the caller ID read Hotch’s name. The first month after your very sudden departure, your phone was bombarded with calls from each member of the BAU. As time passed and their calls kept going unanswered, they ceased their contact. Occasionally, you would get a few voicemails from Penelope who would update you on things happening in her life and to tell you that she missed you.

“Hi.”

“Y/N,” Hotch’s voice lifted in surprise. “I wasn’t sure if you would answer.”

You sighed.

“Well, here I am.”

“I’m…” Hotch trailed off for a second. “I’m calling because I need you to come back to Quantico.”

“Not interested.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if this wasn’t important, Y/N,” Hotch spoke quickly before you could hang up.

You thought about it for a moment.

“I’ve already sent the jet your way. JJ will meet you at the airport.”

You chuckle.

“I haven’t agreed yet.”

“I think you’ll want to be back here. Just trust me.”

The thought of reuniting with JJ and the rest of the team was tempting. You hadn’t realized how much you missed them all these months.

“Okay.”

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

JJ met up with you at the airport runway, pulling you into a tight embrace that you reciprocated. The two of you caught up with each other as the jet got ready for takeoff.

JJ sat up straight, her face becoming serious but still warm.

“Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you before we land.”

You held her gaze, sensing a hint of anxiety in her voice.

“What is it?”

Just like seven months ago in that waiting room, the world stopped spinning when you heard JJ’s words. You sat like a statue as she recounted the events, from Emily’s transfer to Paris to the team taking down Doyle at last.

When you were unresponsive for too long, JJ gently touched your hand.

“Emily is alive?” you ask for confirmation, not believing what you heard.

“Yes.”

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Your steps from the runway into the office were quick and frantic, even JJ had to try to keep up with you. Through the glass doors of the office, you made eye contact with Hotch.

“Emily’s alive? Where is she? Is she here?”

Hotch didn’t answer your rapid-fire questions, but he swiftly led you into his office. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you could hear each pump of blood.

The figure in the room turned around and you gasped when your eyes met brown ones that you thought you would never see again. The Emily that stood before you had small changes in her appearance, but she was still your beloved Emily.

Emily approached you slowly, as one might approach a scared puppy.

“Y/N.”

You let out a sob, diving forward and pulling Emily into your embrace. She held you, tenderly stroking your hair as you cried into her neck. Tears sprang into Emily’s eyes as she felt her heart begin to mend having you in her arms.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” Emily repeated softly. “I had to keep us safe until Doyle was captured. I’m so sorry I had to leave you, and that I had to lie to you.”

You shook your head, pulling away slightly to see her face.

“You had no choice, I understand. I’m just glad you’re here. I thought I lost you for good.”

“You’ll never lose me again,” Emily wiped a tear from your cheek. “These past seven months have been hell without you. All I could think about was how rocky our relationship had been in the months before I left. I promise you that I won’t let us go back to that. It’s not going to be easy, and I have a lot of issues to work through, but I’m going to put in the work. I trust you wholeheartedly, Y/N.”

You smile at her words, feeling that things will be different this time around.

“That means a lot to me, Em.”

Emily tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cradling your chin in her hand.

“Let’s go home, okay?”

“Let’s go home.”

#emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds angst #emily prentiss angst #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner #david rossi

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ddejavvu · 5 months

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

126 notes · View notes

storiesofsvu · 1 year

Text

Fault

Emily Prentiss x reader

Warnings: language, arguments, break ups, cheating, angst, unsub situations, gunshots, character death. Covers a bingo square, a req from Lu & a req from anon.

Working with you ex wasn’t exactly ideal, being partnered up for a case was even less ideal and being trapped with them in an SUV for a seven hour stakeout was the absolute worst. But you’d come to the conclusion that that’s what you get when you decide to dip your pen in the company ink.

Emily glanced over at you from her spot in the driver’s seat, your foot was propped up on the dash, using your knee to brace your elbow on, chin in your hand as you chewed at your lower lip. You caught the movement out of the corner of your eye but your gaze stayed trained on the unsub’s house in front of you, not moving an inch. Emily let out a sigh, dropping her phone down into the cupholder,

“Starting to think this is a waste of time.” She muttered, glancing between the house and you but got nothing in return. After a brief pause she spoke again, “I mean are we even sure he’s actually in there?” You didn’t need to answer her question, not that you would have, the unsub walked right passed one of the lit windows and Emily huffed. “Maybe we should just move in, we’ve got the warrant?”

Still, not so much as a grunt in return from you and this time she rolled her eyes, glancing back to the house once more before she let the frustration get the best of her.

“Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?”

Your hand shifted down, plucking your coffee cup from the holder, lifting it to your lips to take a sip before you finally spoke.

“I have…nothing to say to you.” The cup returned to its previous spot, “I’m here to do a job, not gossip.”

“I asked work related questions.” Her voice hardened slightly, she didn’t want to pick a fight, but going into hour eight of silence was just getting under her skin. You let out a huff, risking a glance over at her.

“This isn’t a waste of time. He’s inside the house, we just saw that. We’re not moving in without back up or confirmation that he’s got Rebecca inside. If we move in otherwise, he could end up getting shot or killing himself and then we’ll never find Rebecca.” You ticked off each point on your fingers as you went, rolling your eyes at her before you returned to your previous position. “Thought you were a decorated agent.” You muttered under your breath and it was Emily’s turn to roll her eyes.

“So you’re just going to ignore me for the rest of all time?”

“What did the bunny from Bambi say again? If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all?”

“God you’re ridiculous.” She scoffed.

“Not exactly like I’m enjoying this either.” You grumbled back, picking up your coffee for another sip, “god I could kill Hotch.”

“Maybe it wasn’t Hotch’s idea.” She muttered, ducking her gaze and your face finally swivelled to face her, though it was pure anger written across your features.

“Are you fucking serious?!” You could feel your blood beginning to boil, the urge to hit something building higher within you, “after everything you thought it would be a great idea to be stuck on a stakeout together? You’re insane.”

“Thought it might help to clear the air, make it so neither of us were walking on eggshells anymore.”

“And somehow I’m the one being ridiculous? God.” You rolled your eyes, your hand clenching into a fist as your nails dug into your skin, attempting to hold back the multiple emotions building higher inside you. You could feel your gut churning and you weren’t sure if it was out of hatred toward Emily or your body trying to expel your emotions through tears. And you certainly weren’t willing to let her see you cry.

“I just wanted to be able to be civil.”

“I’ve been perfectly professional! You’re the one who broke it and keeps trying to fix it when you know it’s unrepairable.”

“I said I was sorry!” Her voice raised, the frustration evident in her words and you simply scoffed, staring ahead in the direction of the house.

“Yeah well band aids don’t fix bullet holes, you say sorry just for show.”

“Did you seriously just quote Taylor fucking Swift to me?! This is why you can’t have a real functional adult relationship or find someone who you think is so ‘worthy of your love’, everything has to be a fucking fairy tale in your head. You’re living in a fucking fantasy! Everything isn’t all princesses and rainbows and unicorns you know?” Emily was doing her best to get under your skin and you knew it, the struggles of her being a profiler, she knew exactly how to do it. You realized now wasn’t the best time, but you couldn’t hold it back anymore, if now was your time to get a few kicks in, so be it.

“Considering we’re sitting outside a serial killers house right now, I think I know what the real world is like, thank you very much. I don’t need a fairy tale! I’m well aware that things are hard and it isn’t all sunshine, I never held you to any kind of standard, I never demanded flowers or even asked for weekly dates. I just wanted someone with some common fucking courtesy. I wanted commitment! I asked you to move in, you bargained with exchanging keys, fine, I’ll take it. You used a sick day at work and I was worried about you, so I went so fucking far out of my way to get your favourite soup, tea and medicine, thinking I was going to make sure you were taking care of yourself, remind you that you don’t need to suffer alone, that I loved you and was there to help. But when I got there I found you railing some bitch over the kitchen island?!” You shot her a glare and felt a little triumph when she visibly winced, not expecting you to blow up in the way you were, “I could’ve seen past it if it was a one time thing, if it was only sex, but you’re some kind of pathological liar! It’d been going on for months! You were volunteering to stay behind on cases so you could sneak off with her. It’s not exactly like I wasn’t around, wasn’t attentive, but clearly I was never going to be enough for you so you strung me along like some kind of puppet while you continued to cheat. You’re fucking vile.”

“It’s not like it meant anything!”

“Oh, yeah, right.” You laughed with a scoff.

“She was just convenient.”

“And what? I wasn’t around enough? Or was I smothering you? Because I’ve heard both already and they’re pretty contradictory.”

“I wasn’t thinking.”

“Stop making excuses.” You spat, “you were the one who asked me to be your girlfriend, to make the step into what I at least thought was an exclusive relationship. You were the one who got all the paperwork filled out, reassured me that it wouldn’t affect the job, that everything would be fine. Sure isn’t fucking fine now.”

“I’m sorry.” She started and you glared in her direction, “we could start over?”

“I’m not that stupid Emily. Half of what you fed me were lies, how am I supposed to trust you again. I’m not even sure you have my back in the field anymore. Some things aren’t meant to be.”

“I—”

“Can we just focus on work! Please?!” You voice strained and you were suddenly looking back toward the unsubs house, not daring to glance Emily’s way, but even in the low glow of the moonlight she could see the tears shimmering in your eyes so she closed her mouth, lips pursed as she picked up her phone to check in with the others.

Awkward silence took over the SUV again, Emily chewing on her lip as she tried to not defend her actions any further or pry to get a response out of you. She knew this stakeout had been a risky idea when it came to pairing you together and so far it was certainly not going her way. It wasn’t that she thought she’d be able to win you back over stale coffee and forced conversation, she wasn’t even sure if she wanted that.

It was only once you were certain that she wasn’t going to try to strike up another conversation or argument that you relaxed slightly in your seat, sighing softly while you blinked the tears out of your eyes. You didn’t want to hold a grudge; you weren’t normally like that but Emily had hurt you more than anyone else had in your lifetime. You’d loved her with every inch of your being, bared your soul to her, dreamt of what a future together would be like, the kind of house you’d live in, the cozy life that you could have. And all of that, absolutely destroyed in a matter of seconds. Even after the original conversation you weren’t sure how often she had been lying to you and you were second guessing every excuse she’d ever made. Even if you wanted to, that trust was broken, and there was no chance of getting it back.

Out of the corner of her eye Emily caught your slight movement, the way your body tensed and you shifted forward, eyes narrowing and your voice soft when you spoke.

“He knows we’re here…” You murmured and when she glanced up, the unsub was standing in the large, now open living room window, staring directly at the SUV. A second later his arm darted out of view and when it returned, it was dragging Rebecca flush to his body, gun to her head. Even through the glass and down the side walk you could hear the girl screaming for her life, “shit!”

“We’re moving in!” Emily called through the radio.

There was a flurry of movement as the two of you raced from the car, guns drawn to approach the house, booting the door down to get inside.

“Steven Thomas, FBI!” Emily’s commanding voice broke through the girl’s cries for help, “drop the weapon.”

“Come any closer and I shoot her!” He fired back.

“We can all walk out of here safely.” You started, “that’s all we want.”

“I’m not leaving with you!” He shouted back, Rebecca whimpering and squirming in his arm.

“Okay!” Emily called back, “then you don’t leave with us. But how about she does?”

Normally you and Emily could work in perfect tandem to talk down an unsub, you’d done it plenty of times before, even after the break up. But there was something different about tonight, instead of just the unsub being on edge, everyone was, there was a tenseness that hung thick in the air. Neither you or Emily had calmed down from the argument in the car and it was evident in her voice, she hadn’t gotten what she wanted then and that made her more determined to get what she wanted now.

“Why would I give you my one bargaining chip?” Steven laughed darkly, “the second she’s one inch away from me, you take the shot. I know how this works.”

“No one has to fire any guns.” You started calmly, lowering your own, “you let Rebecca come to me and we can talk this out.” You still had your finger on the trigger, but the threat of the fire arm pointed toward the ground was certainly less. Emily stepped forward, her gun still raised and a fire behind her eyes.

“Tell this bitch to put her gun down!” He yelled, gesturing with his gun.

“That’s not gonna happen until you put yours down.” She shouted back, anger ringing through her words.

She was so focussed on finding the right pattern of words through the cloud of fury in her brain that she was a split second behind on noticing the physical queues. The moment Steven’s hand so much as twitched you knew it was coming, his arm raised like lightning, ready to take a clear head shot on Emily. You’d only meant to grab her arm, pull her back while you took your own shot but your foot caught on the torn up carpet, sending you jolting forward and you could only pray it wasn’t affecting your aim.

Rebecca was screaming, your ears were ringing, the sound driving so deep into your brain your vision started spinning. You could faintly hear Emily calling for a medic, blinking hard a couple of times you managed to get a clear sight line of Steven dead on the floor, Emily kicking away his gun while she tried to console Rebecca. Still, something wasn’t right, you couldn’t seem to catch your breath. Your gun clattered to the floor as your hands started to search your vest for where the bullet must’ve hit you and when you glanced down there was a searing pain in your neck and a drop of crimson dripped down your chest, the taste of copper infiltrating you mouth. Your hand flew to your neck, confused as to why it was as warm and wet as it was until your hand came back into your line of sight and you realized it was soaked with blood. You opened your mouth to speak, Emily’s name nothing but a choke on your lips as you coughed up a clot of blood and she whipped around.

“Fuck!” Somehow she managed to get to you before you hit the floor as your body started to lose all its strength. She dropped to the floor, cradling your head in her lap as her hands pressed hard against the wound in your neck, her eyes wide and terrified, “I thought he got you in the vest…”

“E—Em..” you coughed again, sputtering blood up again and she winced.

“Don’t try to speak.” Her voice was wavering, but it was soft, tender and somehow calming despite the pain raging through you, “where’s that medic?!” She called into the radio once again. Glancing back down at you her heart immediately began to pound in her ears, she could feel each beat of your pulse against her fingers where your blood was pushing its way out of your body and how with each beat it was growing weaker. Your breathing laboured, each breath was harder to take than the last and your eyes began to flutter. “Hey…” she gently nudged at you with her knee, “hey, you can stay awake, right? You can do that… I know you can. Y/n… come on, open those eyes up for me.”

Wincing, your eyes slowly blinked open, your vision still hazy but you could make out her worry stricken face above you. “Tired…” you managed to get out.

“I know, I know baby.” It slipped out, she didn’t even realize she’d said it, the hand that wasn’t pressing on the gunshot wound cupping your cheek, thumb soothing across it, “medics will be here soon, you just need to hold on, for me, okay?” It wasn’t until she saw something wet hit your cheek that she even realized she was crying, you did your best to nod, crying out at the pain in your neck and Emily’s hands were suddenly firmly holding you still.

“Em….” You rasped, eyes blinking as you fought like hell to stay awake and she looked down at you, nodding, you could barely feel her thumb stroking your cheek now, your words broken by heavy breathing and droplets of blood, “did… you ever mean it… when, when you said you… you… loved me?”

A sob broke through her lips and it took everything in her to not move, to not cover her face, to not lean down and kiss you, to try and wordlessly apologize for everything. Her lips quivered, her hand pressed harder on your neck, she could barely feel your pulse anymore and her fingers were slick with blood.

“Of course I did.” She nodded vehemently, “every time I said it, I meant it. I loved you so fucking much. I still do.” She sniffled, blinking back tears as she watched the corner of your lips twitch up into the closest thing to a smile you could manage, “I was stupid and I ruined things and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for that.” She glanced up as she took a shuddering breath, trying to control her tears, “I don’t know why I did what I did, but I’m so sorry. I love you…” When she looked back down at you, your eyes were closed, blood trickling through her fingers, “y/n…” she shook you gently, “y/n!”

The second shake was harder, attempting to rouse you but she already knew, her hand was pressed too tightly to your neck for her to not. You were gone.

Sobs wracked through her, her body shaking as she clutched you to her, not wanting to let go. If you’d asked, that was her last memory of that day. She couldn’t remember the team arriving, Hotch physically dragging her off your lifeless form as she cried into his shoulder, covering him with tears and blood. She had no memory of getting home, showering, the sleepless nights that came afterward.

All she could think of was you.

And that it was all her fault.

She was the one who fucked up the relationship. She was the one who begged for the pairings to be swapped around, she was supposed to be with Morgan in that car. She was the one who instigated the argument in the car, brought the tension of the night up, she’d distracted the both of you from the task at hand and successfully got you shot. If she hadn’t been paying attention to Rebecca, if she’d even bothered to glance back at you, maybe she would’ve realized sooner, would’ve been able to call earlier for a medic, emphasize the severity of the situation.

Not to mention… the shot had been meant for her.

Emily couldn’t help but think that it should’ve been her in the casket as she watched you be lowered into the ground. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You didn’t deserve this. You deserved a world of happiness, sunshine, flowers and most importantly of love. She hadn’t deserved you. And you certainly didn’t deserve the treatment she’d given you; you deserved the world.

And she would never forget it.

Not a single week went by where there weren’t fresh flowers at your grave. It was the least she could do.

__________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard cm @melindawarnersgf @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @its-soph-xx @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @heidss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments @onmykneesformarvell @inlovewithemilyprentiss @akingcalledkris @desperate-gayy @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @theclassicgaycousin @kalixxa @alexusonfire

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss angst #emily prentiss one shot #k2023bdaybingo

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marie-swriting · 5 months

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Everything Will Be Okay - Emily Prentiss [1/2]

Masterlist

Speak Now TV Masterlist

Part two

Part one - two (French version)

Summary : When Emily hears Ian Doyle escaped, she knows she has to do whatever she can to protect you from getting hurt, even if it means breaking you heart.

Warnings : start during 6x13 and finishes during 6x18, character death (not reader), angst, break up, sad ending, funeral, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3.7k

Song Inspiration : Last Kiss (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

“Ian Doyle vanished from prison. Interpol can’t find him”

Sean’s sentence resonates in Emily’s ears. She can’t believe it. Ian Doyle was supposed to be a part of her past. His name was supposed to only be a memory.

“What are you saying?”

“He’s off the grid, Emily.”

“Do you think he’s heading here ?” Emily asks before marking a pause. “Am I in danger?”

“We all are.”

Worry makes its way onto Emily’s face as she understands the gravity of the situation. It’s only a matter of time before everything goes down, she’s aware of it. She has to think of what she has to do to protect herself.

Her thoughts are cut off by the ringing of her phone. She takes her eyes off of Sean and takes out her phone. As soon as she sees your name and your picture on the screen, she softens before reality hits her. She has to protect you, too. Ian Doyle could go after you to get her back. She clears her throat then answers, taking a natural tone.

“Hey, Y/N, everything okay?”

“Hey, Em’, I’m calling to know if I should wait for you tonight or if you come home late.” you explain. Emily can hear you’re getting in your car.

“I have some paperwork to do. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping at home. I have some stuff to handle with the team.”

“Oh, okay.” you say, trying to hide your disappointment. “Keep me updated. I miss you.”

“Miss you too.”

On these words, you hang up. Emily looks at her screen for a few seconds before talking with Sean about the information Interpol has on Ian’s escape. While listening to him, her brain is working at speed light, searching for every plan to stop Doyle and to protect her loved ones.

After she leaves her former colleague, Emily spends the night at a hotel. She has to be alone to think. She has to think of a solution so you can be safe and sound. The problem is, she can’t tell you about Doyle. She has to get you far away without you knowing the truth. Emily comes to the sad conclusion she has to break your heart - and by extent, her own. She’d rather leave with a broken heart and see you breathing than keeping you close to her and seeing you die by Doyle’s hands. She can’t take the risk. She has to break up with you.

The next day, Emily wakes up with difficulty. Her sleep wasn’t relaxing, she couldn’t stop thinking about what she could tell you.

She goes to your shared apartment when she knows you left for work, wanting to avoid you until you come back home in the evening. Whilst waiting for you, Emily packs some bags.

Once you walk through the door, Emily’s face becomes neutral. She has to show no emotion. She absolutely can’t let her emotions speak. She knows what she has to do. With a big smile on your face, you walk toward Emily, ready to take her in your arms. Nonetheless, once you see her emotionless face, your eyebrows furrow.

“Em’, is everything okay?” you question, putting down your purse.

“We have to talk, Y/N.”

“About what?”

“I think we should stop.” Emily bluntly announces and you need a few seconds to answer.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s no use to stay together. Lately, I’ve been pretty busy with my job. Besides, I’ll never be able to give you the life you deserve. It’s better for everyone.”

“W-what? You can’t be serious! Emily, where is all of this coming from?”

“I’m just stating a fact. I’m almost always away, we’re wasting our time.”

“Okay, you’re often away but we are not wasting our time. Our relationship is working just fine. We have a balance. Why do you want to throw everything away now?” you ask, confused and with teary eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about this for quite some time now.”

“But everything was fine between us. I mean, that’s what I thought at least. Did I do something?”

“It’s no one’s fault, it’s just what’s best to do.” she affirms looking you right in your eyes.

“According to who?”

“Y/N, we knew very well this relationship was doomed. It wasn’t meant to last. Not when I have this job.”

“JJ makes it work.”

“It’s not the same. My decision is made anyway.”

“So you’re not even gonna try to talk about it? To fix the problem? You’re giving up this quickly?”

Emily knows you’re not going to give up. She can see on your face that you’re determined in spite of the tears in your eyes. Emily takes a deep breath before saying the most difficult sentence she’s ever had to say.

“I don’t love you anymore, Y/N. You’re a good person, I just don’t have feelings for you any longer.”

“It sure as hell didn’t feel like that this past few weeks.” you contradict, in disbelief.

“I tried to have feelings for you again but it’s impossible.”

Your eyes analyse Emily, searching for proof that the words coming out of her mouth aren’t the truth. However, Emily did everything to be convincing ; you have to believe her harsh words. Once you understand you correctly heard what Emily told you, your tears start running down your face. You don’t pay attention to it, trying to find a solution to keep Emily near you. As Emily sees your heart breaking in front of her, because of her, she wants to admit the truth. Yet, she tells herself it’s the right thing to do.

“I… I’ll go to a hotel for the next few days. I’ll probably have a case during that time, it’ll give you enough time to pack your things.” Emily softly informs while taking her two bags.

Your eyes are wide open at her last sentence. Sure, you couldn’t expect to still live with her if you’re not together anymore yet you thought you’d talk about it to know if you were going to sell the apartment or who was going to keep it.

Emily feels bad about kicking you out but she knows she can’t let you have it. Doyle could find it with a simple research about Emily and she can’t take the risk of having him coming to your place while you still live here. She has to keep you as far away from her and your apartment as possible.

“Em’, please.”

Emily fights with herself when she hears you begging her. She doesn’t answer before walking past you and leaving your apartment. She holds back a sob until she gets in her car.

As for you, you stay on your feet, still in shock, your eyes staring at the door. You can’t believe your relationship with Emily is really over after five years. You never thought you’d ever hear those words. You never planned on her changing her mind. For you, she is - she was the love of your life. It looks like that's not the case for her.

One month has passed by since your break up. In a desperate attempt, you tried to contact her during the first couple of weeks without having an answer. It seems like she doesn’t miss you as much as you do. And you don’t know how to be something she misses. Therefore, reluctantly, you give up. You still can’t move on, you keep thinking about your relationship, searching for what you could have done differently to avoid this outcome.

You never imagined you’d end like this. You never imagined you wouldn’t know her routine anymore, where she is, what case she’s working on. You never thought you wouldn’t be holding her against you anymore. You never thought you’d have a last kiss.

You try to look happy even if deep down, you’re in this state of numbness. But it has to change, you have to learn to move on. For this, nothing is better than to hang out with friends.

You meet Penelope at a cafe not too far away from your place of work. Beside Rossi, Penelope is the one you’re the closest to from the team, you consider each other as sisters. Penelope was shocked once she heard about your break up and she tried to make Emily change her mind without any success.

As soon as you arrive at the cafe, Penelope takes you in her arms. You sigh in relief when you hold her against you. Her hugs have power, you’re sure of it. You sit down at a table after ordering. At first, your conversation is about random things - you hadn’t seen each other in a while so you’re making up for lost time. Then comes a moment when Penelope tells a fun story about the team which includes Emily; at the mention of your ex’s name, you look down, ignoring the pinch in your heart. Penelope stops laughing as soon as she sees your reaction.

“Oh, my God! I… I didn’t think… I shouldn’t have… I’m so sorry.” Penelope exclaims, embarrassed.

“It’s okay. It’s been a month, after all.” you reassure her with a fake smile.

“But still. You were together for a long time. It’s okay if it’s still painful.”

“I know. How is she?”

You can’t help it, you needed to ask this question, it was on your lips for a month. You need to know if what you think is true. Penelope takes a deep breath before replying.

“She doesn’t show anything yet I know she’s suffering as much as you. Sometimes, she keeps to herself a bit more. She seems more lost in her thoughts which is understandable considering the situation.”

“She’s the one who told me she didn’t love me anymore.” you drily retort. “Sorry, I didn’t say that for you to pick a side.” you correct with a guilty face. “I’m just still surprised by the way everything went down overnight.”

“You’ll find each other again. I’m sure of it.” she affirms, squeezing your hand.

“I don’t think so. She seems determined to stay away from me.”

“Y/N, the love you two shared can’t be lost. When the right moment comes, you’ll be together again and everything will be okay.”

You see on Penelope’s face, she’s firmly convinced by her words. She’s not saying them just to make you feel better, she’s sure she’s right. Yes, Penelope tends to see everything through rose-coloured glasses, but you need this bit of hope.

As soon as you come home, you put your purse down, next to the door then sit on your couch. You look at your apartment, indifferent. Despite all your efforts, you can’t feel at home. Home was your apartment with Emily. Home was Emily. But you don’t have Emily anymore and you never will.

You stand up from your couch and walk to the closet of your bedroom. You open it and take a box. You go sit on the floor then you search at the bottom of it for something specific. Once you find the frame, you turn it around to look at the picture.

This picture was taken two years ago, it was the beginning of July, you’re kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower.

You had gone on a trip in Paris - by some miracles, Emily had had two weeks off. You had a wonderful time in France. The highlight of this trip, according to you, was Emily speaking in French. You know she speaks numerous languages and you melt every single time you hear speaking in one of them. Yet, it’s not always so when you had the opportunity to hear her speaking in French for two whole weeks, you were over the moon.

One night, towards the end of your vacation, you stayed in your hotel room. Normally, you’d enjoy your evening by visiting Paris a bit more nevertheless that night, you were too tired to walk ten more steps.

You were sitting on your balcony, enjoying the Eiffel Tower being illuminated in the distance, and you were talking about your future. You were making different plans, thinking about what your life would look like in one year, five, ten, even thirty.

“I can’t wait to grow old with you.” Emily stated with a smile.

“Me too. You’d be beautiful with grey hair.” you said, stroking her hair.

“I don’t know.”

“Trust me, you will be.”

“And you’d look beautiful in a white dress.” she affirmed, looking deeply in your eyes.

“What?”

“We never really talked about it but I’d love for us to get married. Not now, don’t worry!” Emily specified as soon as she saw your eyes wide open. “I don’t have a ring and this is surely not my proposal but I can see us saying our vows and kissing in front of our loved ones.”

“I can see it, too. I’d love to marry you one day.” you admited, taking her hand in yours.

“Good, like this, I’ll be sure you won’t get rid of me.”

“Trust me, you’ll get sick of me before.” you laughed and Emily shook her head.

“Never. I love you too much to get tired of you.”

And on these words, you shared a languorous kiss full of love. You had never been more sure of your relationship than during that night. You knew it was made to last and you were looking forward to creating new moments as romantic as that one. Unfortunately, just like you had a last kiss, you had one last romantic moment. These instants are now only memories in a picture frame.

A few weeks later, while you have your nose in your work you get a call. You take your phone, wondering who could call you this late. Upon seeing JJ’s name, your stomach drops. She almost never calls you. If she does, something terrible must have happened. With apprehension, you pick up the call.

“JJ, what’s going on? Is Emily okay?”

“You have to come to the hospital right now. Emily is in surgery.” JJ informs with a shaky voice.

“What happened?” you ask, standing up.

“I’ll tell you at the hospital, it’s too long to do it through the phone. I’ll call you back if I have updates from the Doctors before you arrive.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes at most.”

You hang up and quickly get dressed before running to your car. On the way to the hospital, you’re controlled by anxiety. You’ve never driven this fast in your life. In your head, every scenario is happening, making you tear up. The lack of information from JJ doesn’t help to calm you down.

You run through the hospital, looking for Emily’s team. You find them sitting in a waiting room, a worried expression on their face. Hotch sees you arriving first and comes to meet you, JJ on his heels. Hotch keeps a cold head even if he can feel your stress in his soul. He invites you to go to a quieter place in the hospital while JJ grabs you a cup of water. When she gives it to you, Hotch is telling you about Doyle’s escape. As you listen to him, everything seems to make sense in your head.

You finally understand why Emily wanted to be away from you so suddenly, why she used such harsh words. She thought she was protecting you from Doyle by staying far away from you but in doing so, she didn’t think of protecting herself. Emily is in critical condition and you don’t know if you’ll ever have the opportunity of talking to her again, to hold her against you again.

As soon as you know the whole story, you go back to the team. Rossi informs you they haven’t received any updates yet. You sit down next to him and start biting your nails. You wait in agony for the Doctor who is probably going to tell you bad news.

You wish you were anywhere but here. You wish everything was a bad dream. You wish you were in your shared apartment with Emily, cuddling in your bed whilst the sun is rising in the sky like you used to do.

One morning, about a year after your trip to Paris, Emily had a day off, allowing you to sleep in. You had woken up first - something rare - and you were staring at her. Her face was completely relaxed whilst her right hand was on your hips. You don’t know how long you had stayed like this, you just wanted to enjoy Emily’s presence. At one point, Emily started to wake up and she smiled, noticing you had spent your time watching her.

“Have you been staring at me for a long time?”

“I don’t know.”

“Not creepy at all.” she joked, getting closer to you.

“It’s not a crime to admire my girlfriend!”

“We’ve arrested stalkers for less.”

“You’re gonna sleep on the couch.” you retorted with a fake angry face.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I missed you.” Emily suddenly stated

“I missed you too.”

“I hope we’ll always be able to wake up like this.”

“I’ll personally make sure that we do.” you affirmed before snuggling.

You raised your head toward Emily before kissing her. She kissed you back with passion and you spent most of the day in bed.

Now, you spend most of the evening in an uncomfortable hospital chair. You’re vacantly staring at the floor while thinking at several happy moments with Emily and telling yourself you’ll probably never have others.

JJ comes into the room, a serious expression on her face and red eyes. You don’t need for her to utter a word to understand what she’s about to say. However, you don’t want to believe it. Sure, you weren’t optimistic about Emily’s condition yet a part of you was hoping, praying for everything to be okay and to leave all of this behind you. Penelope whispers a desperate ‘no’ while you keep your gaze on JJ. She avoids your eyes when she pronounces the sentences you fear.

“She never made it off the table.”

Immediately, tears are streaming down your face. You loudly sob, shocked while Rossi leans in to hug you. You accept his embrace, shedding all your pain. You hear Spencer standing up but you don’t pay attention to him, trying to understand what just happened.

You thought your heart had broken when Emily broke up with you but you were wrong. This time, the pain in your chest is worse. You don’t even feel like your heart is breaking. Your heart stopped beating and it won’t beat ever again. How could it? You’ll never see Emily’s smile again, hear her laugh, touch her hand. She is dead and your heart left with her.

Emily’s funeral is a few days later. For the first time since the announcement of her death, you get ready. Unlike when you broke up where you felt numb to everything you were doing, you’re feeling every gesture you make. The pain isn’t only emotional, every one of your members is heavy and is hurting you.

Rossi is the one to pick you up. Since Emily’s death, he has been taking care of you. Rossi always considered Emily like his daughter and he immediately liked you when you and Emily got together. He hates seeing you so miserable, he wishes he could take away your pain and add it to his.

Watching the team carrying Emily’s coffin, your pain heightens. You can’t believe the woman you love is locked in this box. You can’t understand how your story ended like this.

You don’t listen to the priest, you keep your eyes on the white flowers that are on the coffin. If Emily could have seen this, she would have said it’s too solemn for her, you smile at that thought. Penelope holds your hand until you’re the first to put a red rose on the coffin, your cheeks wet with tears. You stay next to Emily whilst the team does just like you. Rossi puts a hand on your back to comfort you and you do everything to not break down in his arms. By some miracles, you stay on your feet whilst Emily's casket is going down.

When you come back home, you don’t have the strength to go to bed. You sit on the floor of your bedroom after you put on one of Emily’s tee shirts. You had accidentally put it in your boxes and as Emily never asked for it, you kept it. You bring the fabric to your nose, hoping to smell Emily’s scent but it’s already gone. New tears roll down your cheeks as you realise that soon, every trace of Emily will be gone forever. She will only be a part of your past.

During the whole day, your mind is plagued by memories with Emily. You mainly think about the end of your relationship. You think of every last moment you shared without knowing there will never be a new one. Had you known what was going to happen, you would have enjoyed them more and if you could, you’d change some of them like your last kiss.

It was during a morning, it was early - too early for you -, you had woken up after Emily. Your eyes were closing by themselves whilst you were going to the kitchen. You were making your coffee when Emily appeared in the room. You quickly smiled at her whilst she was telling you she quickly had to leave for work. She pecked your lips and you didn’t even take your time to properly kiss her back, still too asleep. She said ‘I love you’ before taking her bag and leaving your apartment. You had only mumbled an ‘I love you’ back, needing your coffee to talk properly.

You wish your last kiss was different. You wish you had kissed her with passion, enjoying the movement of her lips against yours and you wish you had distinctly said ‘I love you’. Unfortunately, you can’t change the past and you will never have a new opportunity. This kiss is doomed to be your last just like you’re doomed to live without Emily for the remainder of your days. And you’re doomed to have her name forever on your lips just like your last kiss. In the end, Penelope was wrong, it will not be okay.

Part two

Masterlist

Speak Now TV Masterlist

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abbyromanoff · 6 months

Text

CHOKEHOLD

PAIRINGS: Emily Prentiss x bsf’s child!reader

WORD COUNT: 2704

WARNINGS: smut, anal play, kinda dark Emily, manipulation, poorly written smut tbh, innocence kink, possessiveness, fingering, multiple orgasms, Mommy (E), squirting, cnc, somnophillia, R is JJ’s kid, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“Love you, Mom. Bye, guys!” Emily watched as you kissed your mom goodbye, the sweet gesture causing her to grin. You waved to the group, walking through the glass door and heading towards the elevator. She knew it was now or never, this was her chance to make her move.

“Alright, I think it’s about time I get home. Why don’t you guys get an early night?” She was usually the last to leave, which is what confused the team. JJ furrowed her brows, spinning in her chair to face the older woman.

“You never go home early, not even on Friday nights.” She noted before a smirk took over her face. “Unless, Emily has somewhere to be.” She teased, causing Garcia to coo as she took a seat next to the blonde. She rolled her eyes, eyeing the clock as she estimated the time of your arrival.

“I didn’t sleep much last night, I’m tired.”

“And why didn’t you sleep much, hm? Were you too busy, say, entertaining other parties?” She flipped the woman off before disappearing past the doors, cursing herself for staying so late before rushing to her car. She started the engine in no time, instantly pulling out of her spot as she followed the coordinates. Her mind never once left you, and she started to worry if she absentmindedly blew a light or took a wrong turn. But she didn’t care, all she wanted was to get home to you.

Her fist came pounding on the wooden door, her gaze falling on every crack and seam that could be used as easy entry, she’d have to warn you about those.

“Em? I, uh, what are you doing here?” You questioned, only to be silenced as she pushed you into your flat, shutting the door behind her while your back hit the cold wall.

“What the fuck, Em-” She cut you off quickly, placing her fingers atop your lips as your breaths became the only sound to fill the room.

“There’s someone after you, and I’m here to protect you.” You furrowed your brows together, kicking away her digit as she towered over you. Her gray hair framed her face, and every line only showed her experience.

“Wha- Why isn’t my mom here, then?” She bit her lip, causing you to repeat yourself. She knew she had to act fast before threatening your trust in her lie.

“They don’t know, okay? Look, you have to trust me-”

“No, I want to know what the fuck is going on.” You pushed, scoffing when she remained silent for far too long. She shoved your shoulders back, forcing you to remain still as she took a moment to admire your expressions in a time of such weakness.

“There’s someone from my past that- that the team doesn’t exactly know about, and when I parked here last week to give you back that sweater you forgot at your mom’s, I noticed his car and I saw him leave the moment he saw me. I- I can’t risk putting you in danger, and since I already have, I’m going to do everything in my power to protect you from it.” It wasn’t entirely false, there was a time in her life when she was haunted by her past, causing her arrival in Paris. But that was when you were so young, you wouldn’t remember a single thing, which she used to her advantage.

“You don’t need to believe me, but all I ask is that you let me stay here, and you let me protect you.” You bit back a snarl and sighed, brushing her off as you brought yourself to the couch.

“I don’t have a spare, you can take the bed.”

“No, this is your place, I’m not going to take that from you. I say we share but if that’s not what you want, then I’ll have the couch.” She debated, crossing her arms over her chest as she examined the building. She wanted it to seem like she was checking in fear of danger, but really she was trying to get a picture-perfect memorization over every inch. That way she could have a better view from beneath her blankets when her fingers were buried deep inside of her.

“Fine, we’ll share.” You mumbled, clicking through endless amounts of channels before losing hope and tossing the remote to the side.

“You don’t have to stand there like a brick wall, you know. We’ve known each other since I was little, you’re allowed to speak.” She took a breath before taking the spot next to you, adjusting her suit jacket before ruffling it off. Your eyes fell to the biceps threatening to break past the tight blouse, but looked away before she could spot you, little did you know she knew the entire time.

“So, you graduated correct?” You nodded, leaning on your hand as your elbow rested on the wooden frame of the sofa. “What was your major again? Psychology?”

“Yeah, I guess I just really wanted to follow down my Mom’s footsteps.” She mimicked your pose, letting the tightness in her muscles loosen with a sigh.

“Well, I think she’d be very proud of her little girl following her lead. In fact, JJ goes on and on about how lucky she is to have a child like you, and I agree, she is quite lucky.” She chuckled at your darkened cheeks, using her thumb to stroke the soft skin after brushing a hair out of the way. It felt right being with you like this, everything seemed to feel right with you. She didn’t know why, no brain she studied had ever given her a clear image as to what differed from hers. She just felt so protective over you, she didn’t want anyone else to get close to you. Knowing you were here, all alone, with no protection until she arrived, it scared her more than she could express.

“I don’t know about that,”

“I mean it! Anyone would be so happy to have someone like you in their life, not only are you such a hard worker, but you’re also the sweetest person I know. Just don’t tell your Mom I said that, she thinks she’s my favorite.” You laughed, slapping her chest lightly as you felt your chest warm. You instinctively shuffled closer, your feet digging under her legs to search for warmth while her hand rubbed your thigh softly to provide you heat.

“Now I feel bad for yelling at you by the door.” You admitted, bringing her to scoff playfully, showing that she wasn’t truly mad at you.

“Oh, don’t stress it, love, I would be pretty annoyed if someone came pounding at my door too.” You gave her a soft smile, letting the comforting silence embrace the both of you before you leaned your head onto her shoulder. She kissed the top of your head gently, getting a small whiff of your shampoo, making her hum in delight.

An hour later she found herself lying next to you, sighing as the comfort of the sheets embraced her. You were in the next room brushing your teeth, and she didn’t try to stop herself as she peeked under the short bottoms you wore.

“I’m keeping my gun nearby, I hope that’s alright with you.” You crawled next to her, tossing the covers over your frame as you shut off the small lamp. She did the same, frowning as your back turned to face her.

“Yeah, that’s okay.” She hesitated before wrapping her arms around your tired body, letting her face press into your neck with a soft smile. You stiffened but eventually relaxed in her hold. You let yourself fall into a slumber, a peaceful sensation falling over you as images flashed through your mind regularly.

Emily admired the softness in your small snores, she felt grateful to be let in, but she felt worried at how easily you let her pass by with a lie. Anyone could’ve made up something similar and got free entrance, she was just lucky you knew her well enough to trust her.

She knew there was no hope in holding back now, this is what she came to do, to make you hers. She didn’t care if you were her best friend's child, you were old enough to make your own decisions and she was going to lead you into making the right one.

“‘M sorry, baby girl, I promise I’ll make you enjoy it.” Her fingers trailed below your large shirt as they pinched your sore nipples, her breath coming out shallow as her eyes fluttered shut. She pressed her crotch into your backside, letting her false cock rut into you.

“You wouldn’t mind if I just,” She brought them lower, causing her palm to rub against your clit as she teased your tight hole. “Touch you right here, would ya’, baby?”

She wished you were as pure as she wanted you to be, she wanted to be your first but could easily tell that she wasn’t. Instead, she let herself picture it late at night when she was all alone. She’d draw her digits in-and-out of you while you clung onto her, begging her to let you cum for the first time. She hoped you thought about it too, but she doubted it. She could read anyone, but you were like a closed book someone forgot to pick up.

“Fuck, you’re so warm, I could stay like this forever.” She inhaled the residue of your perfume and lotion, they were fading but she basked in all of it. She could feel her wetness grow, biting her lip as she continued to grind into your backside. The strap teased her clit, bringing her great ounces of pleasure.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” She kissed down your shoulder blade as her mouth parted, a loud moan escaping her. You shuffled in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open as you adjusted to the dark room with minimal light coming from the window. You gasped, your hand falling to meet her touch. Her fingers were plunged deep inside of you, thrusting in and out as you gushed around her.

“F…fuck! Em, g-get off,” She chuckled, using her free hand to rid you of your bottoms completely. A slap came to your ass, eliciting a groan from your end.

“If you really wanted me to stop, you would’ve left by now.” You looked down, noticing she was no longer keeping you hostage in her hold. You still didn’t move, gulping as you settled in. Truth was, you had a crush on the older woman since your teen years. It was normal in the beginning, that was until you moved out and your loneliness grew. With the loneliness came a deep arousal that was unable to be removed, the only way to cure it was desperate women at the bar that reminded you of the woman. Your fingers were never enough, but you knew hers would be more than needed.

“Please, Emily-“ You chewed your lower lip, regretting the words the moment they left you. She smirked through a chuckle, sighing as she slowed her pace, bringing a high-pitched whine from past your lips.

“What was that? Please, what, Y/N?” When you came up unresponsive, she repeated her question, slowing even further until she was stilled completely.

“No- d-do that again, please,” Your hand lowered under your shirt as you palmed at your chest, shuddering as your sensitive nipples hardened to a peak.

“Mm, aren’t I already giving you what you want? I thought you wanted me to stop, so I stopped.” You couldn’t bear to face her, not in this moment, not in this level of heat.

“I…I want you to keep going, it feels really, really fucking good.” She hummed, and that’s when you felt the strap pressed into you. You were so consumed in the threshold of her long digits, you failed to notice what else she was planning.

“God, I want to fuck this ass so damn bad. You want that? You want Mommy to fuck your tight ass, yeah?” Her breath was ragged, her lips in a frenzy on your neck. You choked out a whimper, nodding your head slowly as you mumbled a small agreement.

“Would I be the first, hm? Is Mommy going to be the first to stretch out this little hole?” She lowered her pants, the fabric tight against her skin as they were a borrowed pair from you. You insisted she got out of the jeans she wore to work, even if they fit her body perfectly.

“You’re the first, Mommy.” That was all the permission she needed as she thrusted her hips forward, the tip teasing your hole in a rough, yet gentle manner. Her lips came close to your ear, her teeth sinking into the skin as you yelped in pain.

“Oh, don’t I love making you cry like a whiny little bitch.” She eased in the first few inches for what felt like years but only lasted a few minutes. It felt painful, as if there was a fire pooling inside of you. That was until it slowly started turning pleasant, causing a satisfying sensation to take over you. Her digits slid in and out of you slowly, her thumb taking to rub your clit in small circles, but it was enough to cause your brain to fog up. Your tongue peeked its way past your lips, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your hips had a mind of your own, grinding against both penetrating objects.

“Such a good fucking girl, Mommy loves her little girl so much.” You cried out, gripping her arm tightly as you shoved your face into the pillow to muffle the noises she forced out of you.

“No, no, you’re going to let me hear every single moan and whimper and cry; I’m not letting you off that easily.” Her length was now more than halfway through the barrier you set. You followed her hand, feeling a small bulge touching the surface. You pushed yourself impossibly closer to her, letting out a weak whimper.

“Mommy, I,” Your legs shook as you clenched tightly around her, soaking her fingers in your sweet nectar.

“It’s okay, baby, make a mess all over me. That’s it, Mommy is so proud of you, sweetheart.” She drove her hips with a harsher pace, watching as your hole squeezed her until she could barely move. She didn’t stop her ministrations, making you twitch in excitement and pain.

“It’s t-too much, Mommy.” She rubbed your clit faster, her groan evident as your juices sprayed across the sheets. You wept loudly, not caring for the neighbor's complaints the next day, they already disliked you, there was no point in trying to amend that.

“No, it’s not. You can go back to sleep, dove, Mommy just wants to play for a little bit longer.” You both knew there was no possibility of you resting after this, you’d both be continuing until the sun rose.

“Your Mom is going to fucking kill me, but, God, I want to taste you so bad.” Your eyes widened as you remembered the plans you and your mother were having the next day. She was supposed to come over for lunch before the two of you would leave to go shopping as she insisted you needed decorations for your new apartment. Emily couldn’t be here when she arrived, she’d instantly get an understanding of who left the dark marks over your neck, anyone who saw you would easily be able to guess the activities that were to be had the night prior, but it didn’t help that it was her job to read people like books.

“I don’t care, just fuck me, Mommy…please?” The moment you spoke she knew she was going to fulfill whatever request you made, and your small, tired voice only proved that. She bit her tongue, leaning close as she placed her digits on your lower lip, dragging it down as you took the offering with a grateful sigh.

“Whatever my girl wants, they get.”

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss smut #Emily prentiss fluff #Emily prentiss angst #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #Emily prentiss x reader smut

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tearsofmilfs · 1 year

Text

Stone Cold.

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Summary: You and Emily have been dating for over 2 years but that all ends when out of nowhere she breaks up with you. This is your journey of trying to get over her and finding out the reason for the break up in the time of around 2 months.

Warnings: angst, little to no comfort, bad writing, swearing,

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x Gn!reader, Emily Prentiss x JJ, platonic!Penelope Garcia x Gn!reader

Word count: around 3k words

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so I’m sorry for any mistakes or if this moves too fast I am fairly new to writing.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Stone cold, stone cold

You see me standing, but I'm dying on the floor

After Emily broke up with you, you were a wreck for days. You asked Hotch for some time off and he, unhappily, gave you two weeks off without pay. You knew that he didn’t like being a member short especially if you had a case, but it was an emergency. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Everything was going fine until a month ago when she became distant, not answering your non-work calls and texts. It confused you to no end. Ever since you and Emily started dating she always made sure to text you back, to come check on you after work, and to go out for lunch with you.

All of that was gone, and at first you didn’t think much of it, or maybe you were too scared to ask in case your overthinking thoughts were right this time.

Then one day, one particularly hard day after a long and tiring case Emily Prentiss showed up at your door. You were confused, but relieved, maybe it was going to go back to normal? Maybe she came to explain her behavior and apologize? Boy were you wrong.

“We need to talk.” Her expression was stone cold, you couldn’t read her. Hell you hardly could on a normal day, but today it was extra hard.

“What-” You cleared your throat when you heard your voice crack. What is it?”

“Better for you if we sit down.” With that she walked into your small apartment, the memories of your happy relationship came flooding into her head.

As you sat down on the couch you noticed her linger next to the photos of the two of you on the beach, during your vacation. A soft smile gracing her lips made you less worried. All thoughts about her needing to break up with you left you, and you sat there waiting on her with ease.

“This is not something that is easy to do, and I hope you don’t hate me…” Emilys voice faltered at the end of the sentence. Picking up her gaze from the floor she eyed your face with guilt.

With a small smile you let out a chuckle. “I’m sure I won't, love.”

“And I’m sure you will.” Echoed in Emilys’ head as she let out a breath, sitting down next to you. “I… I don’t love you anymore.”

Your heart rate picked up as you stared at her with your eyes wide open, both in shock and hurt. You didn’t know what to do exactly, do you cry? Scream? Beg for her to stay? Get angry with her? No one prepared you for this moment, and without any pointers you weren’t sure how to act.

“Oh.”

“Oh? I thought- I thought you’d be mad!” She stood up quickly, her face changing from guilty to annoyed.

“Well what do you want me to do Emily? I can’t control you. You’re your own person.” Shrugging, you kept your eyes on the spot that she had just been occupying. You didn’t hear a reply from her, instead you heard a loud banging sound, notifying you that she had left.

When you couldn’t hear her angry footsteps anymore you broke down. The love of your life just left you after admitting that she didn’t feel anything for you anymore.

That day you cried the whole time, you don’t think there was a moment where tears weren’t streaming down your cheeks.

Stone cold, stone cold

Maybe if I don't cry, I won't feel anymore

When the second week of your temporary leaving started to come to an end you decided to stop. Stop crying. Stop obsessing over Emily. Stop caring.

You got out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen, wanting to make yourself a good and healthy breakfast.

After that you took a long and steamy shower, you loved the way it made your muscles relax and temporarily helped you forget about your ex. Your plan was to go out for a run, test your limits, test your drive, your power.

And that is exactly what you did. You ran 21 kilometers, a half marathon. Which took you around an hour and forty minutes, give or take. By no means were you shitty at sports, but you weren’t really keen on them. Yes, you did work out a lot, but that was only due to the fact that you were obsessed with being in a good shape.

Successfully you managed to not think about Emily Prentiss and her good looks for a whole day. And you started to think that maybe you can do this, maybe you can get over this obstacle in your life and be happy again.

Stone cold, baby

God knows I try to feel

Happy for you

Know that I am, even if I

Can't understand,

Finally you were able to go back to your job that you loved dearly, even if a certain person’s name left a bitter taste in your mouth. You were ready to move past that and continue saving lives and kicking ass.

Just as you stepped into the office you were attacked with a “Welcome Back!” banner and Garcia running towards you with a tray full of colorful cupcakes. You loved her baking, sometimes it could even match Rossi’s, which was a huge compliment.

“OH! EM! GEE! You’re back my lovely, little pumpkin!” With one hand around you and one hand still holding the pastries, she jumped up a little, not being able to hold in her excitement.

She has been calling you pumpkin since last Halloween when you decided that the best idea is dressing up as a pumpkin. “A hot pumpkin” as Emily said it. Speaking of Emily, your eyes searched the office area but you couldn’t find her. Weird.

“I heard about everything, and I wanted to apologize that I wasn’t there for you, but we had a big case and it took a toll on me and you said to leave you alone and I did but I wanted to –”

You cut her off by engulfing her into a deep hug, having to lean into her more since you were taller. She was truly one of your best friends, in work and out of work. You wouldn’t know what to do without her.

Clearing your throat you pull away, being back face to face with Penelope handing you the plate with the cupcakes. “I know that you don’t usually eat unhealthy food like this but I think moments like these call for stuff like this. Y’know?’

“Thank you babes, you’re an angel. Did y’know that?” Kissing her on the cheek you walked further in, setting all your belongings on the desk, Garcia following you.

“There is something you must know.”

“What is it?”

“Em –”

But she was cut off by Derek yelling out your name from the entrance, his sunglasses on top of his head and his arm around Spencer. The two men smiling widely at you, you guys were close but not as close as you and your little hacker girl.

“It’s been so long, why didn’t you come in sooner?” As per usual Reid looked at you with a very confused gaze, his eyes traveling towards the cupcakes. “Are these yours? You don’t usually eat stuff like this, is everything all right? Did someone die?”

The sweet concern in his voice made you chuckle lowly, standing up as you went to greet the both of them. “Dr. Reid! No one died. I’m just going through some things, nothing major though.”

He nodded and Garcia gave you a knowing look, one that informed you that Emily didn’t tell everyone about the two of you breaking up. Which was so not like her.

“Hey, have you seen Prentiss? She’s usually one of the first ones here.” Hotch asked while walking towards us from his office, Rossi close behind. The latter gives you a sorrowful look.

“Mmm nope, haven't seen her.” Derek was the first one to speak up, quickly followed by the rest that denied seeing her.

“Okay well we can’t wait for long, we have a case.”

Nodding we all walked into the briefing office, sitting down in our seats we waited for JJ to walk in with the remote to the TV while giving us the run down of the case. Seeing as she didn’t appear, Hotch told Pen to present for us.

After we were done he was basically fuming, with the two girls gone we were down two agents on field and that was a dangerous situation for us to be in.

“Does anyone know where the hell –”

Loud and happy laughter from the entrance drowned his words out, all of us turning to see who it was. Your heart shattered for the second time in the past month, seeing them so happy, so free. Without any care they stride into this place, arms around each other with visible lipstick marks on the others lips. It all made sense now, and you were a fool for not seeing it earlier.

Either that, or you were so scared that you didn’t want to see it.

I'll take the pain

Give me the truth, me and my heart

We'll make it through

If happy is her, I'm happy for you

“I just want to know how long.”

“How long what?”

“Don’t act dumb Prentiss.” Her name rolled off your tongue with pure venom, your eyes narrowing down at her. “How long have you had feelings for that homewrecker?”

“Don’t.” Rolling her eyes she made a move to walk out of the small room but you stopped her with a small shove.

“No, you don't get to just walk out after you broke my heart. I deserve answers Emily.” You kept your voice a mere whisper but every new word came out with more pressure.

She sighed heavily, grabbing her head with her hands. You knew that she felt even more guilty than she did that night, but you couldn’t care less. She broke your heart, so she’s in no position of denying you answers.

“It was… Probably two months ago.”

“Two- Two MONTHS AGO?”

“Keep your voice down.”

With a scoff you pulled your hand away from her reach as she tried to get a hold of you. “Look, I would’ve understood if you broke up with me the minute you figured out you loved another. But you– you waited two months. Two fucking months Prentiss.”

Looking at her with disgust you shook your head, not believing any sorry ass excuse that came out of her mouth. “I hope that you’re happy with her.” This time, you left her.

Stone cold, stone cold

You're dancing with her, while I'm staring at my phone

Penelope told you that going out for drinks with the team would brighten you up. But she must’ve forgotten that if she meant team, she also meant Jennifer And Prentiss. So you told her no a million times but finally caved in after she told you that the first two rounds were on her.

“I am going to get laid tonight.”

“And how do you know that?” The blonde looked at me from her seat as she sipped her sweet drink.

“Well it hasn’t been even five minutes and that dark haired woman over there has been eyeing me up and down.”

Pen giggled and looked over where the mentioned girl was sitting. Gasping, she looked back at you and nodded eagerly. “Oh you’re so getting that pussy Pumpkin.”

“Who’s getting who’s pussy now?” Derek’s deep voice came from behind you which made you jump in surprise. “Sorry.” He patted you on the back as you began to lightly choke.

“Now back to my question, who’s getting laid?”

“This charmer over here.” You blushed while rolling your eyes softly.

“Eh, it’s not even certain. It’s just that this lady has been staring at me like I’m a piece of meat.”

Derek whooped quietly as he said something along the lines of going to get a drink and find Spencer.

“I’m telling you, if the doctor won’t hit it, I will.” You laughed at her words as you fell into small gossip in your own, two-person bubble.

Which burst when she left to order another round for the two of you. As you waited, you scanned the small club, your eyes lingering at the woman near the bar that seemed to be now occupied with someone else. Well there goes your choice.

Moving on your gaze falls onto the dance floor, seemingly being pulled onto the blonde and dark haired woman dancing together. Dancing like there was no tomorrow, moving their bodies like they’re one, not ones to shy away from an accidental intimate touch.

Clenching your jaw, you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. You knew this was a bad idea, and that just proved it. Standing up you brought one of your hands to your eyes to wipe them away as you walked out of the noisy place. Breathing in the fresh air you told yourself that she wasn’t worth it, that you deserved better. But you’d be lying if you said that you believed those words.

Stone cold, stone cold

I was your amber, but now she's your shade of gold

You noticed that ever since they got together Emily has been so much happier. She’d always come in with a bright smile and two coffees in her hand, sometimes you’d even look up hope stirring in your eyes, thinking that one is for you and all of this was one big nightmare, that is until she walks towards JJ and gives her a quick kiss along with her coffee.

Since the day she broke up with you, you counted that your heart broke approximately fifty-four times in the span of two months. Which is probably not a healthy amount, especially since you told yourself that you were moving on, that you were going to forget about Emily.

It’s easier said than done, because every day when you see the two of them you imagine yourself in her arms. That it’s you who’s making her laugh, causing her to blush profoundly and stare at her phone while biting her lip, cheering her up after a long and tiring case, that it’s your shoulder that she rests her head on. Not her.

Sometimes you couldn’t sleep longer than most nights. And it was only because of one question. One simple question that you never got the answer to. “Why her not me?”

Is she prettier? Funnier? Bolder? More confident? Would she prefer if I had a good up-bringing like JJ? Was she embarrassed of you? Disgusted by you?

All these questions made you more insecure than before. You started to hide your body more, even on hot days you’d cover every inch of your skin. No one questioned it and when they shot you a look of concern you’d simply look away. If Emily didn’t see you as something beautiful like a diamond or gold, then it meant you weren’t and you had to accept it.

You would always be simple amber to Emily Prentiss

Unlike Jennifer Jareau who was her gold.

Don't wanna be stone cold, stone

I wish I could mean this, but here's my goodbye

You softly ran your finger across the picture that had the whole team on it. A smile was gracing your lips but your eyes couldn't stop the tears from flowing. That's how you ended up sitting at your desk, crying like a baby. You were so deep into your meltdown that you didn’t hear the frantic feet that moved closer and closer towards you.

You didn’t recognize the person until they leaned in, your nose catching the perfume you once loved. Emily.

Pulling yourself up, you wiped the tears that were left on your cheeks as you looked up at her with a fake smile. “Can I help you with anything agent Prentiss?”

“Uhm– Are you okay? You were literally crying not even a second ago.” Before you could reply she gave you a stern look that shut you up. “And don’t even try and lie to me, I know all your tricks.”

“It’s nothing. Really.” You held up your hands when you saw her narrow her eyes at you, giving you the famous “Prentiss when she knows you’re lying” look. Sighing while you put the picture in a box, keeping your head down.

“I requested for a transfer and they agreed. The only person who was supposed to know was Hotch, but I guess you caught me in a bad time.” laughing lightly you tried to steady your breathing, knowing that having another breakdown in front of Emily was not something that you wanted to do.

“What? What the hell? Why did you do that?”

“What do you mean why? I can’t go to work without being reminded of you, I can’t stand the two of you always snuggling or sharing secret kisses here and there. Always caring for each other even when the moment doesn’t call for it. I–” Taking a deep breath you finally looked into her eyes. “I can’t stand to see the love of my life with another. So this is a goodbye.”

You stood up slowly, grabbing the box and leaning it against your left hip. Your gaze traveled back to the dark haired woman, catching her already staring at you. Not really knowing what to do, you leaned in planting a soft and brief kiss on her cheek.

“Goodbye Emily Prentiss.”

If happy is her. If happy is her. I'm happy for you.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss angst #hurt/no comfort #criminal minds #penelope garcia #penelope garcia being the bestest friend ever #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #emotional cheating #no usage of y/n #gn reader #female reader #male reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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criminalmindswhore · 7 months

Text

Call If You Need Me

angsty, fluffy, pulls at your heartstrings

TW: Mentions of parental death

The timing of your life always felt like some sort of sick joke on you. Without fail, everything happened at the worst time and, your mother's death was no different.

"I'll be back in a few months honey," Emily promised as she stroked your head that was placed in her lap on the couch. The movie on the screen is long forgotten. You gripped her pants tighter, "I'm just worried you won't get the chance to come back to me." Emily sighed, your worry was logical and was her biggest fear. "I promise to do everything in my power to get back to you Y/n." Emily leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple. Tears silently rolled down both your cheeks. "One call to Clyde and I will come home as fast as I can."

The phone rang loudly in your ear as you sat on the kitchen floor of her apartment, "Easter speaking." Your words got caught in your throat, and a sob came out instead. Clyde sat up at his desk, "Y/n?" You took a deep breath and forced the words out, "Clyde my mom died. I don't know if this counts as a reason to pull her out, but I want her to know as soon as possible. My mom was like a mom to Em." Clyde remembered the stories Emily had told him on the way to Boston.

The rain was pouring down all day essentially ruining your plans to take Emily to the market in your hometown. You padded down the stairs being careful not to slip in your socks. You found your mom looking out the living room window, you stood beside her and sighed, "There goes our plans for the day." Your mom giggled, "But the rain made us better plans. Go get Emily." She shooed you up the stairs to find your lover still asleep. You woke her up and slipped her shoes on before pulling her downstairs. The front door was open and you found your mom in the front yard running in the rain, a massive smile on her face. She spotted Emily and you laughing at her from the porch. She beckoned you to her. "Oh, absolutely not Mom." She glared at you, "You can't get struck by the lighting if you're not in the rain." She pulled your hand and Emily's as thunder cracked out. The three of you spent almost an hour in the rain. Running, dancing, laughing, talking. You and Emily stealing kisses when possible. You were out of earshot from the two when your mom told Emily, "Thank you for loving her, Emily. You're always welcome here with us." The words made Emily cry. The love she always wanted from her mom, she got from yours.

You were sitting on the windowsill staring at the London skyline. You felt frozen in time and space. You needed Emily to guide you, but you couldn't have that right now. Your phone vibrated and you looked down to see a number you didn't know. You answered immediately, "Hello?" Emily smiled, your voice. "Hi Brad." Brad. It was the name Emily told you before she left, "If I need to contact you for emergencies, you are Brad." You let out a soft cry, she was alive and talking to you. "I heard the news. I'm thinking 'bout coming home." She said it in a whisper. Emily was standing in the next room over from Doyle, but god knows she had to be careful. She looked out the window at the huge backyard of the villa. She was nervously playing with the wedding necklace Ian gave her. She felt so dirty wearing it. "I need to confirm the shipment and get in contact with Chris. Pack it up and meet me at the spot." Your stomach dropped thinking about how in code she had to be with you but, knowing she was okay enough to remember all these codes gave you comfort. "Where?" You wanted to tell her how much you loved her, how much you missed her but you didn't want to risk anything. "Someone will send you the coordinates. Don't be late, he doesn't like it when shipments are late." You cried yourself asleep that night replaying her voice in your head over and over. It sounded a little different but you figured she adopted the dialect of where her cover is from.

"Y/n I'm being so serious right now!" You doubled over in laughter with your mom. "There's no way you have a whole assignment to do a job interview in a Southern accent!" Your mom said as she slapped your arm from humor. Emily was standing in front of you two smiling pretending to be offended, "I do!" She said in a Southern accent, "I take one theatre class for an elective and you two act like I've grown another head!" She was laughing now at her own accent. "Oh, how college has changed you, Emily Prentiss!" You said dramatically and pretended to faint into your mom's lap.

You spent the next week jumping at every phone call and text, waiting for the coordinates that never came. You were losing hope that Interpol would pull her out because of your mom. From the start, you knew it was a long shot. There were very few reasons that someone that deep undercover would get pulled out and a death in the family isn't one of them.

Emily, sorry, Lauren was in the front garden harvesting some Lilacs for Ian's birthday. The purple flowers were in perfect bloom and the smell wafted into her nose. She had just picked the last one when she heard tires screeching to a halt. She looked up to see 4 SUV's and men coming at her. "What's going on?" She asked in Italian, they grabbed her and shoved her into a car. "I need to speak to Easter," she said softly. The second the car door closed, she yanked off the necklace Ian gave her and let out the breath she had been holding for 8 months.

Standing around the casket you and your family watched as your mom was lowered into the ground. You were gripping the rose meant for Emily to place like it was the last thing keeping you upright. "Wait!" Your head immediately turned and saw her. Your Emily running across the cemetery. Her hair was lighter now and she had bangs, but god she looked beautiful. It was like the first time you had ever seen her. She reached you and immediately pulled you into her grasp. Tears you didn't know you had left came flooding from your eyes as your arms wrapped around her neck. Emily breathed you in, your perfume filling her nose. "Em. I thought-" She pulled back, keeping her arms around your waist, "I had to wait until it was safe to pull me out." Emily smiled sadly at you. Your mouth was just opening and closing like your brain was short-circuiting. "You made it," you finally choked out. Emily pulled you in for the first kiss you'd shared in 8 months. Her lips felt the same, tasted the same, that kiss made your brain realize she was really here. It felt like life was being poured back into Emily's being after being someone else for so long. You were the one to pull away this time as you handed her the rose, "I saved this for you to give her in case you made it." Emily's smile dropped and a wave of sadness overtook her. She took the rose from you and stepped towards the casket. "Thank you for loving me like your own and for welcoming me into your home and arms. You raised an amazing daughter and I intend to take over the watch now. I got her."

Emily dropped her rose in and grabbed your hand holding it tightly. Emily didn't cry in front of people except you and JJ, so when you looked at her and saw tears on her cheeks, you felt your heart shatter. The past 8 months were so hard for Emily, you cannot fathom coming home to this.

As the sun set on your hometown you and Emily sat in your dad's truck in a parking lot. You needed a moment away from the family and Emily needed space to begin to process the past 8 months. Her hand was intertwined with yours, music playing softly. You looked away from the sunset to look at her. She felt your eyes on her and turned to you, a smile gracing her face when she saw you. "I'm sorry Em." Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "For what?" A tear slipped from your eye, "For whatever you just endured. I know you can't tell me anything for a while because of the red tape and rules but I'm here when you want to or need to talk about it. Mom would kick my ass if I didn't recognize how hard of a time this is for both of us." Emily looked down at the console, licked her bottom lip, and then bit it. You grabbed her chin and pulled her eyes back to yours, "That's your tell so don't try to tell me to worry about only me." Your eyes were serious, "When I can, I promise to not bottle this up." You leaned into her and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, "I love you." Your words were quiet but meaningful, "I love you so much Y/n." Emily's hand grabbed the back of your head and pulled your lips back to hers, this time more passionately. As your lips collided thunder cracked. Emily's hands threading through your hair, your hands on her face. She pulled away to breathe and opened the truck door, "Let's go dance in the rain for your mom?"

#criminal minds #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminalmindsxreader #emily prentiss angst #lauren reynolds

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mxmmyprentiss · 2 months

Text

your ivy grows

Summary: It’s unfair, Emily thought. Emily loves you and you’re in love with JJ. And to make it even more complicated: JJ loves Will but she lives in your bed some nights and leaves you the next morning. Genre: Angst (with happy ending) Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader ; Jennifer Jareau x reader Warnings: none Word count: 6.6K

A/N: 2 fics in 2 days because my brain is trying to avoid other feelings. Also, this does not follow any canon timeline in the show. All likes, shares and comments are very much encouraged and appreciated. Thank you! Enjoy!

AO3

It all starts when you join the BAU.

You walk past the glass doors and immediately feel eyes on you. Of course, you’re a new face. They have never seen you before. You are instantly intimidated by the suits and the files on the desk and the dark brown eyes staring at you.

“Hello,” A tall raven-haired woman approaches you. The one with dark brown eyes. “Do you need help with something?”

You bow your head a little as a sign of respect. “Hi, I’m here for the unit chief? Agent Aaron Hotchner?”

“Oh, sure. Let me show you to his office. You must be the transferee from the Hostage Rescue Team.” Emily offers her hand for a handshake. “I’m SSA Emily Prentiss.”

You shake her hand firmly and smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“You too.”

When Emily leaves you at Hotch’s office, something in her ribcage hurts and her stomach suddenly feels weird. And when you mouthed a thank you and flashed her a smile that reached your eyes, Emily thought her heart might drop to the floor.

After a short talk with the unit chief, Hotch introduces you to the team. You meet all of them - Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia.

“Where’s JJ?” Hotch asks.

“I’m here, I’m here,” A blonde blue-eyed woman approaches the team. She’s carrying tons of files in her arms. “Hi, I’m Jennifer Jareau, communications liaison. Everybody calls me JJ.”

And the way your eyes twinkle as you and JJ shake hands doesn’t get past Emily’s scrutinizing eyes.

Emily has yet to know why but her rib cage might explode because of how fast her heart goes.

---

Your adjustment with the team isn’t easy at all. They have known each other for years and you’re the newcomer after all. But all of them have been kind and welcoming to you so far.

You are partnered with Emily and Derek most of the time. You spend a lot of time sitting at the back of the SUV and listening to them talk about their theories regarding the UnSub, which you have been fond of because you learn a lot from their insights.

Emily has always been considerate of you though. She always asks your opinions which you assume she does so you won’t feel left out or unheard.

“You can always speak your mind, Y/N. You’ll never know what might help our case.” Emily says to you, tapping your shoulder.

“I will try. Thank you, Emily.”

Emily has never loved her name until you said it and Emily knew she’s a goner.

---

It is the first time you accepted an invitation for drinks from your colleagues. It’s not the first time they asked though. If you’re not wrong, this would be the third.

Spencer was the first person who invited you but you politely turned down the invitation due to your throbbing migraine at that time.

The second time, it was Emily. She told you the team is gathering for dinner and drinks at Rossi's and everyone would love it if you would come. But you feel something’s off. You didn’t deserve to dance with their victory just yet. You haven’t earned it yet. So, you told Emily you can’t make it because you’re meeting your parents that night and you haven’t seen them in a while, which is technically true. (Hint: Your parents died when you were sixteen.)

Tonight though, the third time, JJ approaches you. Her smile is so radiant that the sun would be so jealous.

JJ sits on your desk. “So … we’re betting who could make you say yes to drinks with the team.” JJ speaks faintly, but still just loud enough for the people on the next desks to hear. “I need the cash.”

You snort. “What’s in it for me?” You ask boldly.

Derek wolf-whistles. Spencer watches the scene unravel. And Emily tries to hide a glare by playing minesweeper on her computer.

“Pasta, wine and my eternal gratitude and friendship.” JJ folds her arms. “So, what do you say? We’ll split the cash?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Deal.” You shake JJ’s hand.

Groans are heard and JJ does a mini dance while collecting 20s from her friends. You catch Emily’s quick stare. She’s probably pissed at you for losing the bet.

---

Since that night at Rossi’s, you and JJ start spending more time together, both in the field and at the office. It’s not your fault though. It’s just something that happens. After all, Hotch declares who goes with who.

During your work travels, JJ always chooses you to bunk with her at the hotels you stay at while the others mix and match with their own roommates. Nobody else complains and so you don’t either. You like spending time with her and it’s not so bad when you hear her sleeping soundly at nights that leave you awake.

You and the team are in New Orleans for a case. New Orleans PD has requested the FBI’s help about a series of murders involving several - twelve, so far - white redhead women.

There’s something reserved about JJ’s smile when she approaches a certain policeman you don’t recognize. He introduces himself as William LaMontagne Jr. and you catch the way JJ’s shoulder brush against his multiple times when he discusses the case.

“He and JJ had a thing,” Emily tells you as you both proceed to the crime scene. “On and off, I guess.”

“Oh.” You frown. You don’t know why Emily is telling you this. Maybe you should try being more subtle.

Emily wishes she didn’t tell you this instead because the frown on your face has been more frequent as the days of this unsolved case pass.

---

JJ invites you to a pub near the hotel. The BAU and New Orleans PD just caught the serial killer this morning and somehow, everything feels right again in the city. You happily accept her invitation and put on your coat, walking past the rooms of your colleagues who must already be asleep.

JJ links your arms together the whole time of the walk to the pub. The only time she lets go of you was when you saw a familiar face waiting for her at the counter.

Will.

JJ kisses him on the cheek and he holds her wrist when she places a hand on his chest.

You want to vomit. Must be the acid. But you haven’t had drinks yet?

You go back to your hotel alone that night. JJ and Will dropped you off at the lobby, claiming they will just take a walk around and he promises to bring her back early tomorrow for your flight.

So now, you’re in the hotel lobby watching people pass by.

“Y/N?” Emily calls you. She’s still wearing her clothes from this morning and from the looks of it, she hasn’t slept yet either. Emily sits next to you. “What are you doing here?”

“Just … thinking.” Emily glances at the way you’re clicking your thumb and middle finger. “I’m okay. I just can’t sleep yet.”

“Does JJ know you’re here?”

“She’s with Will.” You respond impassively.

Ah.

Now, Emily knows why you’re here.

“Do you play scrabble?” Emily asks.

“Yeah.”

“I have one in my room.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

It’s the first time today that Emily saw you smile without restraint.

---

“So, where are you staying now?” Spencer asks JJ one afternoon in the bullpen.

“Well, that I’m still trying to figure out.” JJ sighs. “I might stay here for the meantime.”

“Here at the office? How are you going to sleep?”

“You can stay at my place.” You offer out of nowhere causing your friends to look at you. “I mean, if you’d like. I have a spare room.”

JJ’s eyes light up. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I’ll help you pack. Whatever you need.”

It happens frequently now - Emily’s heart sinking to her stomach when she thinks about you with someone other than her. She might need to puke later.

Her jaw tightens as she rewrites a finished report. To hell with this paragraph and typo and this ugly font.

---

The plan is for JJ to stay for three months at your place while her apartment is being renovated. You and the team help her move to your spare room.

You prepare dinner for them and your new roommate. Everyone is taking a look around your place and luckily, you cleaned up yesterday so the house isn’t at all a mess.

Emily joins you and JJ in the kitchen. “Can I help?”

“You can set the table.” You suggest.

“Sure.” Emily washes her hands in the sink. “Where are your plates?”

“The plates are on the drawer beside the fridge, spoon and fork on the next drawer to the left, glasses are next to the water dispenser.” JJ replies.

“You already know your way around here.” Emily states the obvious, trying to mask the pang of jealousy.

“I already slept here a couple of times before.” JJ admits and Emily wants to combust.

“I should have already charged her by the hour for rent.” You joke but Emily doesn’t laugh. She proceeds with setting the table instead.

It takes every ounce of self-control Emily has not to break the plates.

---

You and JJ quickly adapt to living with one another (not together, you cautiously remind yourself). JJ wakes up early and makes coffee. She doesn’t make breakfast though. Caffeine is all she needs in the morning. You, on the other hand, like to cook a little something to start your day.

Since JJ stayed in your apartment, the two of you always arrived at the bureau together. It’s no surprise to the team really. But since you and JJ established that routine, Emily hasn’t smiled much at your arrival to the office like she used to do.

You kind of miss it - being welcomed by a warm smile knowing the day you’re all about to have.

---

“Y/N,” You hear JJ’s voice in the dark. “Y/N.”

Your eyes flutter open and see JJ sitting on the edge of your bed. Even in the dim light, the bags under her eyes are noticeable and her cheeks are flushed.

You sit up. “What’s wrong, JJ?”

“Can I … can I stay with you? Just for tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”

Of course, this would be crossing the very thin line of boundaries you have left with her. If she sleeps beside you, she will be near you and if she’s near you, your thoughts will be filled with more of her and that’s … well, that’s just wrong - harboring thoughts about your friend.

But you are yet to learn to say no to Jennifer Jareau.

So you let her crawl to your bed and slip under the covers. You turn your back on her and face the lamp on the bedside table, praying to a God you don’t believe in to let you sleep without JJ running through your mind.

You wake up to an empty space beside you the next morning.

---

The wall comes crashing down when the thin fine line becomes a teeny tiny dot.

It has become a habit now - JJ crawling to your mattress when she’s sad and scared. You don’t get much sleep from that point forward because you feel her snuggling towards you while she’s asleep and the tiny noises she makes rewires your brain. Only for you to wake up early in the morning with a fixed set of pillows and JJ’s scent on the empty side of the bed where she used to lie.

This leads to you having additional caffeine intake every day.

“That’s your fourth cup today. Are you okay?” Emily asks you in the break room.

You massage the back of your neck. “I’m okay, Em. Just haven’t been sleeping very much lately.”

“JJ snores loud?” Emily jokes but the sharp pain in the pit of her stomach says otherwise.

“She doesn't snore.” You say.

And the pain in Emily’s stomach surges into something else entirely. Because how do you know? You have separate rooms. Your rooms are on the opposite sides of your apartment. You don’t sleep next to each other.

Unless …

“You two sleep together?” The crack in Emily’s voice is enough to make you stifle a giggle.

“Not in that way.”

Emily is tempted to ask in what way do you want to sleep with JJ. She’s also tempted to chug a hot freshly brewed cup of coffee to stop herself from further talking about this. She doesn’t need to know. She doesn’t want to know.

“She and Will are fighting a lot lately. She sleeps next to me when she’s sad, which is every night now I guess.”

Emily’s head is spinning and her ears are ringing and maybe her eyes are bleeding? She’s not sure. But it feels a little bit like that.

You watch Emily gulp her scalding hot coffee then spray it to the nearest sink. You rub her back gently, worried she might have burned her tongue.

---

Your apartment feels empty.

JJ flies back and forth to New Orleans during the weekends and weekends are the only days you can stay at your apartment for longer than a night’s sleep.

It’s too quiet now that JJ isn’t around. Your Law and Order marathon is left on its last episode that you two watched. You have no energy to continue it now.

You lie down on the couch and scroll through your phone. The online scrabble app that Emily installed catches your eye and you open it. Emily is online and you invite her to play. It lasted for almost a whole day before Emily calls you up and invites you to dinner at her place.

You accept.

You show up to Emily’s door 30 minutes later, bringing your promised take-out foods. Emily welcomes you into her home. A black cat purrs on your leg.

“Hi, buddy!” You excitedly pet the cat’s head. “Who are you?”

“That’s Sergio. He’s the boss around here.” Emily chuckles.

“Emily Prentiss, how come I didn’t know you’re a cat person?”

She smirks. “I’ll tell Hotch you need to be re-evaluated.”

You roll your eyes. You pick Sergio up and he doesn’t fight. He settles on your shoulder and purrs. “He’s so cute!”

“And expensive to have around.”

“I want a cat.” You blurt out. “I realize I want a cat.”

“You sure? You can’t take him though.” You and Emily share a laugh.

“Not this guy.” You squeeze-hug Sergio and he meows. “He will miss you.”

“Your apartment getting lonely?” Emily senses.

You nod. “JJ hasn’t been around much. I know she’s not going to be around forever, too.” You swallow, glancing to the floor where Sergio just jumped. “She and Will are working things out, I think. She’s flying out to New Orleans every other weekend.”

“JJ must like him a lot then.” Emily watches your lips purse.

“JJ loves him.” You correct her. And in a way, remind yourself of the fact.

Emily’s eyes dart towards your fingers involuntarily clicking. She observes you a lot of times and she knows your little tics by now.

“Let’s eat, Y/N.” Emily ushers you to her living room where the food is already prepared and the TV is already being set up. “What do you want to watch?”

“I want some light comedy if you don’t mind.”

“Modern Family?”

“How do you know?”

Emily recalls the Claire Dunphy Defense Squad button pin on your shoulder bag when you first attend the team gathering at Rossi’s. “Lucky guess.”

It’s halfway through the sitcom’s season when you fall asleep. Emily gazes at your head bobbing up and down as you try to keep yourself awake and failing. She gently cups your cheek and rests your head on her shoulder. Emily thinks you’re waking up when your body moves but you just shift in a more comfortable position which ends up lying your head on her lap and hogging the blanket you’re supposed to share.

Emily lovingly gazes at you, fixing your hair that falls out of place as you sleep.

Emily wishes this moment will stay forever.

You. Her.

Emily never felt more at peace.

---

“I have news.” JJ announces one morning in the kitchen. You are cooking breakfast for yourself and she’s brewing coffee for both of you.

You raise an eyebrow. “Good or bad?”

“I’m not really sure.”

You scrunch your nose. “I’m not a fan of news like that.”

JJ beams. “I’m pregnant!”

And your world stops.

Gravity is pulling you to the ground. Your feet feel heavy.

You almost burn the egg.

“Y/N?”

A tear falls on the pan. Additional salt, I guess.

You turn off the stove and approach JJ with open arms. “I’m so happy for you.” You hug her tightly. “This is good, JJ.”

“It is.” She hugs you back. You don’t let her go for a while until you can control your tears from dropping. “Thank you.”

You blink rapidly, pursed your lips then smile widely. “Congratulations, Jennifer.”

“I have to tell the team.”

“Of course.”

JJ looks so happy and she’s in a glow you have never seen before. You wonder if it’s the pregnancy or the fact that she’s in love.

Regardless, you’re happy she’s happy.

Even if the weird tightening in your chest says otherwise.

---

JJ announces her pregnancy to the BAU 3 days after she told you. Everyone is excited and happy for her. Hugs are happening left and right from the team.

But Emily is looking at you.

And from the corner of your eye, you see her too.

Suddenly, air is not enough. You excuse yourself from the celebration for a minute. You’re suffocating and you need to breathe.

“I knew you’d be here.” Emily’s voice startles you.

You’re sitting in a block on the rooftop. You don’t respond to her and instead, you light a cigarette from your pocket.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

You frown. “Just when I feel like it.”

“You can talk to me, Y/N.”

“She told me 3 days ago, if you’re wondering why I wasn’t surprised.”

“How do you feel?”

“It doesn’t matter what I feel.”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?”

“Because …” Emily pauses. Overwhelming number of scenarios running through her head in a second. “Because you’re my friend.”

You blow smoke into the wind. Emily smells it.

“That’s what I seem to be to everyone. Just a friend.” You say bitterly. “I mean, I’m not really surprised. I’m basically disposable.”

Emily wants to storm to JJ’s office and she doesn’t care what the hell she’s doing in there, she wants to slap JJ hard; put all the pain you’re going through - because of her - in one hard strike. Sure, JJ is still one of her closest friends and she loves her to death but God -

It’s unfair.

Emily loves you.

If you were ever caught in a crossfire, Emily would come running to protect you in a heartbeat, no questions asked and all orders and protocols be damned. She will gladly take all the bullets for you until she loses her own heartbeat.

Emily loves you.

If anyone ever spoke of you wrong, Emily will be there to defend you with all her might. She will flip tables and look them in the eye and tell them how you're the kindest, most genuine, charming person she’s ever met and they’re lucky to even breathe the same air that you breathe.

Emily loves you.

If you were crying and out of breath, she would drop everything and give you the air she breathes if it means you will be okay.

It’s unfair, Emily thought.

Emily loves you and you’re in love with JJ.

And to make it even more complicated: JJ loves Will but she lives in your bed some nights and leaves you the next morning.

Emily loves you.

And not just as a friend. Because friends don’t treat friends this way.

Emily wants to tell you how she desperately wants to hold your hand especially when it’s cold so she could warm them up, to kiss your lips every time you bite them and every time you don’t, to hold you close when you need to be held, to arrange your hair when it’s turned into a mess.

But the anger and dejection bubbling in her chest take over instead when she hears how you describe yourself.

“How dare you.” Emily speaks in a monotone voice.

“What?” Your head turns to her, confused.

“How dare you call yourself disposable when all I ever wanted was you!” You are both caught off guard by her sudden outburst. All caution is gone now and Emily takes a deep breath in before continuing in a calmer but more desperate tone, “I see you, Y/N. I see you.”

“Em …”

“I see your fingers click when you’re uncomfortable. I see you watch sitcoms on your phone during breaks and once while Hotch was giving the team another talk. I see you care for others. You gave Garcia a unicorn mug just because it reminded you of her. You bring Morgan homemade lasagna when he told us he misses his mother’s cooking. You bought Reid the book he couldn’t find at the bookstore. You drink Rossi’s wine even when you hate it so he wouldn’t feel bad for offering. You fix Hotch’s ties when it’s messed up. For fuck’s sake, you always give me the last piece of pizza every damn time even when you’re still hungry! I see you talk to the victims’ families with so much love, care, and regret that you couldn’t prevent the crimes. I see your nose scrunch when you smell Morgan’s overwhelming perfume in the car. I see you grinding your teeth when you’re in deep thought.” Emily sighs, running out of breath. “The point is: I see you, Y/N.”

“Em …”

“It’s not your fault you don’t see me that way.” Emily walks out and closes the door behind her.

You hear the strain in her voice over and over in your head and it almost makes you want to jump over the ledge.

---

The past few days have been awkward to say the least.

Emily is clearly avoiding you. She gets coffee a little later than she used to just so you won’t meet at the break room. She sits far away from you during the briefings. When you were lying on the couch in the jet, she moved to the other end so you would be out of her sight. She doesn’t look you in the eye when you have to talk about the cases.

And truthfully, it hurts.

---

You walk into the bullpen and slouch in your chair. Spencer greets you and tells you about the book he’s reading and a fun fact about its author. You smile in acknowledgement but don’t say anything else.

Your eyes scan the room to look for the woman who sits on the desk in front of you.

“Emily’s in Boston for a conference.” Morgan says when he notices your eyes wandering the bullpen. “She might be gone for a few days.”

“Okay.” You lean back on your chair and open the reports you've been working on since yesterday.

It’s quiet, you realize, when Emily’s not around.

She’s the only one who frequently talks to you even when you’re both busy. She brings you coffee twice a day - one in the morning and one before going home - and she knows just how you like it with two teaspoons of sugar and three teaspoons of cream, not milk. She sends you online game invitations through your personal email so you can play them on your computers when Hotch isn’t looking. She sends you playlists based on your mood after each case.

You let out a deep sigh you have been holding back.

It’s awfully quiet when Emily is not around.

---

JJ moves out of your apartment. Derek and Spencer help her and Will with moving and driving to their new place. Will has relocated to be with JJ. Even from afar, you can sense that they’re happy about starting their family and being with each other.

You are happy for her. JJ deserves the whole world and Will gave it to her.

When they leave, you don’t waste time sitting around. You change your bedsheets and pillowcases and throw them in the washer. You vacuum the bedroom, then the living room and the room JJ stayed in. You wash all the dishes and rearrange everything in the drawers and cabinets. You throw all the leftover food from the fridge. You deep cleaned your entire home.

And it feels good.

You feel an overwhelming liberty when you finally sink in your bed, hugging your pillow, and it no longer smells like JJ.

---

Emily comes back from Boston a week later. It felt like months for you though.

You spot her sitting on Spencer’s desk beside Derek. She’s giving out souvenirs she got from her trip and they laugh about something Spencer said.

As you come near to your desk, Emily hasn’t glanced at you, not even once.

You settle down on your chair and it’s Derek who spins your chair around to face them.

“Emily’s got something for you.” He passes you a couple of button pins and a dark green mug with BOSTON printed on it.

“Thanks.” You say.

“Tell her, not me.” He stands up and squeezes Spencer’s shoulders. “Let’s go, pretty boy.”

“Where?” Although confused, Spencer still follows him.

That leaves you and Emily just a desk away from each other.

“How’s Boston?” You finally ask. You couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Uh, the conference?”

“Boston was humid. The conference was boring.” Emily answers. You see her pick her nails and your hand hovers her hand. She instantly stops. “You’ve been busy?”

You shake your head. “It’s honestly refreshing to not have a case for a while. It’s better than finding dead bodies for breakfast.”

“It is.” Emily agrees.

Then, it gets quiet again. Emily is refusing to look you in the eye while you are hopelessly trying to get her to.

You can’t do this anymore.

You can’t stand having Emily so close and tiptoeing around the thing you need to talk to her about.

“I bought scrabble.” You blurt out. You don’t know why you said that.

Emily raises an eyebrow. “You bought scrabble?”

“Y - yeah. I did.”

“Okay …”

“Do you want to play?” Emily stares at you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just … I’m inviting you. If you’re not busy and have nothing to do, that is. I - I -”

“Y/N, breathe.” Emily chuckles. “Are you inviting me over?”

You exhale loudly. “Yes. Yes, I am.” You puff out your chest to gain some resolve. “Do you want to come over tonight? Uh, 8pm?”

You finally meet her eye to eye. Dark brown orbs meeting yours. You’re instantly weak at how soft and gentle she’s looking at you.

“I’d love that.” Emily replies.

---

You leave work earlier than you’re supposed to. You tell Hotch about needing it for personal time. He didn’t pry and let you go, only reminding you that you need to be early tomorrow.

“You going home?” Derek asks when he bumps into you at the elevator.

“Yes, I might have a date.”

“Might?”

“I’m really not sure what it is. I’ll find out. Gotta go!” You press the elevator button to the basement, walking back and forth inside the elevator.

You haven’t thought this all the way through. What the hell were you thinking asking Emily Prentiss over to your apartment? Your fridge is literally empty aside from your stash of electrolyte drinks.

Then, it clicks. You can think when you shop for food. You need to buy groceries.

---

You end up buying a lot more than you can carry.

When you got everything sorted out, you open your ipad to search for recipes. You’re not entirely sure what Emily would enjoy and frankly, you’re just winging it, hoping that whatever you might end up cooking would be good enough for her.

You lay out the scrabble board on the center table in the living room. You also prepared nachos and homemade salsa dip and laid it next to the board game.

When the doorbell rings, you make a startled jump. You peek at the peephole and see Emily standing outside, hands in the pockets of her coat.

“Hi,” you say as soon as you open the door. “Come in.”

“You have -” Emily brushes her thumb against your cheek to wipe the sauce off your face. She licks her thumb. “Salsa dip?”

“Guilty. Let me get changed. I just finished cooking.”

“Okay.” Emily’s eyes follow you to your room. She laughs lightly when she hears you curse because your foot caught a shoe and stumbled.

---

You and Emily sit across from each other at the dining table.

“This looks delicious, Y/N.”

“Let’s only hope it tastes as delicious as it looks.”

Emily hums in approval upon tasting the shrimp pasta you made. “Are you sure you’re not a chef?” She teases.

“You have homemaderecipes.com to thank for that.” You giggle.

The dinner went better than you could imagine. Emily complimented the dishes you made, hinting that you’re trying to make her gain weight with how many dishes you made just for tonight. In your defense, you like being prepared and having options in case she has food allergies.

Emily insists on helping you with the dishes and putting the leftovers on tupperwares. You tell her she’s a guest and she didn’t have to. But you know better than to argue with her.

“Did you rearrange your kitchen?” Emily asks after opening every drawer and cabinet trying to figure out where everything goes.

“I did. When JJ moved out.”

Emily doesn’t say anything. She places the last fork on the drawer.

“I cleaned up everything after she left.” You continue. You’re waiting for Emily’s response but it doesn’t come. “I changed the sheets and vacuumed.”

Emily is leaning against the countertop, holding the glass of soda she has yet to drink.

“There’s no trace of her left here.” You say confidently.

“Y/N,” Emily murmurs. “I don’t want to be your rebound.”

Your head snaps fast and you stare at her with terrified eyes. “No, Emily, no.” You move closer to her, just enough to not invade her personal space. “It’s not what I want.”

“Good because neither do I.”

“When JJ left, I cleaned the entire house. I rearranged everything, I’m not even sure where everything goes exactly right now.” Emily listens to you intently. “And I didn’t feel sad when there were no traces of her left behind.”

Emily looks at you with a much softer, more hopeful expression on her face. She hopes that you won’t crush the tiny little hope that she’s holding on to.

“I just felt … free.” You continue. “And when I saw them walking to their car, Will had his hand on her belly and I felt genuinely happy for them.” You start to pace back and forth at the kitchen aisle. “But then, this past week without you, I realized that it’s quiet.”

“Quiet?”

“It was too quiet that I could hear myself and Spencer next to me thinking. And you know how he thinks a lot.” You continue your pace, hands flailing uncontrollably at times. “Then I kept seeing the empty space in your desk.”

“Y/N, you make it sound like I left you.” Emily lets out a scoff.

“I mean, I can’t blame you if you did but the thing is: I see it now.”

“See what?”

“You.”

You stop.

Emily stares.

There’s a long pause and though it may be silent, it isn’t awkward at all. Something shifted in the air, you could feel it.

You speak again, “I see your smile light up the room when I come in to work. You didn’t do it as much when I started arriving with JJ. I didn’t tell you how much I missed it. You have always been so welcoming of me, making sure I’m comfortable. You always ask for my insights when I wasn’t confident to share them with the rest of the team. You always make sure I have water and candies in the backseat when we’re investigating. You saved me that one time a police officer tried to hit on me. You leave aspirin on my table when you see me rubbing my head when I get migraines. You know the little things that mean so much to me.” You sigh, shoulders falling. “I see it now, Emily.”

Emily wipes the tear that fell to her cheek.

You take Emily’s hands and grip them, making sure she feels the intensity of sincerity radiating in your body. “And, I think, by now, it’s a reflex that I’d go looking for you in a room full of people.” You tell her. “I’m sorry it had to take not seeing you to actually see you.”

Emily pulls you into a hug. She wraps her arms around your neck and you hear her sobs. You tighten your arm around her waist, giving everything you had to that hug.

Because this, right here, is an entire universe you’re holding.

You stay like that for what felt like an eternity.

Emily is the first one to pull away. She places a hand on your cheek, caressing your face. “We’re going to do this right.”

“We’ll take it slow.” You agree. “We’ll go on dates.”

She nods. “That we will do, Y/N.”

---

It took a month for you and Emily to memorize where things are in your kitchen. Not only that but she has made herself comfortable knowing where everything is in your apartment.

You learn about hers as well.

She has invited you to her place more than a few times over. Her air freshener smells like lavender. Her lamp lights are always cool and never warm, she says it hurts her eyes. Her bathroom reeks of luxurious bath bombs especially during the weekend. She likes having dark curtains in her bedroom and light ones in the living room.

Emily adores Sergio. She has a whole list of reminders about him - his feeding time, vaccination dates, neuter date, etc. - stuck on the refrigerator door.

Emily also doesn’t have framed pictures of anyone at her place but as of two days ago, she has one on her bedside table - a photograph of you and her sharing ice cream from one of your dates.

---

It takes another month when you tackle Emily, your hands protecting her head before you both fall to the ground. The UnSub was taking a shot at her but you got her just in time. You watch Derek and Hotch go after the UnSub, leaving you and Emily on the muddy ground.

“Em, are you okay?” You muffle under your breath.

“I’m good, I’m good.” Emily sits up and checks on you. Her face instantly turns pale when she sees blood flowing on your left arm. “Y/N, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s not that deep.” Emily takes off her FBI vest then her coat. She uses it to put pressure into your wound to stop the bleeding. Curses of different languages leave your lips.

Emily calls an ambulance. She doesn't leave your side on the whole way to the hospital. She waits as the doctor and nurses finish patching you up.

“How’s Y/N?” Hotch asks Emily when he arrives at the hospital with the rest of the team.

“I’m still waiting for an update. She’s still in the ER. Probably getting some stitches.” Emily says, biting a nail.

Spencer puts a hand on Emily’s shoulder to calm her down.

---

The doctor says recovery will take at least two weeks. You wear an arm sling and are stuck at a desk job for the meantime. You don’t hate it. And even if you weren’t a tech genius like Penelope, she is fun and entertaining to be around during case consultations.

But every time the team leaves, your heart sinks knowing Emily might fall into another danger. You worry about all of them, of course, but Emily …

It’s five months later that you’re in the unit chief’s office talking about your budding relationship with a coworker.

Emily has your heart and you will wreak havoc if something happens to her. You wish the universe won’t test you.

---

Emily is sitting on the opposite chair. Hotch is behind his desk.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Hotch tells the both of you. “I’ll have HR send me the files that you need to sign. It won’t be complicated.”

“Are you sure none of us needs to be transferred?” You ask him again, scared that the answer might change.

“I’ll make sure of it. You’re both an asset to this unit and it would be a damn shame if we lose either one of you.”

You and Emily can finally breathe.

“Thank you, sir.” Emily says.

“Thank you. I promise this won’t affect anything, especially work.” You tell your boss.

Hotch nods. “It hasn’t, so far, and we’ve known for months.”

You choke on air upon seeing Hotch’s smug smile.

“You’d literally take a bullet for her, Y/N.”

“Which I told her was stupid and reckless.” Emily adds.

Maybe you and Emily aren’t so subtle after all.

---

It’s a year later when you and Emily are throwing a housewarming party. The team arrives one by one. Spencer brings you an espresso machine. Derek hands Emily a toolkit in all pink; he gets a jab on the shoulder from Emily. You happily accept Penelope’s cheese board set. Hotch sets up the money tree he bought by the door. Rossi brings white and red wine for dinner. Will, JJ and little Henry arrive last. Will is carrying their son on his arm while JJ brings out their gifts.

“I come bearing gifts,” JJ announces.

She bought a lot of healthy and unhealthy snacks for you and Emily but the personalized cushion for Sergio with I Love My Moms embroidered in it is your favorite. You excitedly show it to your cat and he immediately lies on it.

“It’s Sergio approved!” You squeal.

JJ takes a picture of Sergio enjoying her gift.

“Hi, little buddy!” Emily takes Henry to her arms, cooing the little boy. “God, you’re heavy.”

“You’re a big boy now, aren’t you, Henry?” You slightly pinch his cheeks. “What are you feeding this kid? He grows up so fast.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me I will cry.” JJ chuckles.

Everyone gathers on the table. You and Emily have one rule during the dinner though: No Work Talk.

Rossi compliments your pasta and you thank him. Emily opens the red wine that Rossi brought tonight.

The rest of the night goes better than expected. You have no idea why you and Emily were ever nervous about hosting.

When everybody left and everything was cleaned up, you and Emily found yourselves cuddling in your bed.

Yours and Emily’s bed.

“I love you,” you whisper against her chest. Your fingers are fidgeting on the button of her pajama shirt.

Emily’s eyes widened. Everything stops and her heart feels like it’s going a hundred miles per hour.

“I know this is the first time I said it,” you say, hearing how fast her heartbeat is going against your ear. “But I have felt it for a long time now.”

Emily pulls you closer to her, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too.”

Whatever the future holds, you’ll be fine as long as she’s in it. Everything finally feels good and right in the world.

Because Emily Prentiss loves you.

And you love her.

#jaye writes #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss angst #jennifer jareau x reader #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jemily #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jareau x y/n

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lesbianvampiresposts · 7 months

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Lachesism, the desire to be struck by a disaster.

E.P x Fem!Reader

Notes: GUESS WHOS BACK 😈 and not doing the requests she begged for jesus christ..i blame writers block ANYWAY so remember take me back to the night we met? yeah so MY FUN LOVING SELF who is such a GREAT person is here to continue it x

Warnings: death (R), angst, funeral, HEAVY survivors guilt? can i call it that? poor descriptive skills x

As quiet murmurs died down, the sound of heeled shoes hitting the wooden church floors rung out. Six agents carry a dark wood casket, American flag draped atop.

The air was thick, thick enough to choke on. The room reminded eerily silent, quiet words, sniffles and steps being the only sounds. A disheveled older couple sat at the front, holding hands, closely whispering sweet reaffirming words to one another.

As eulogies and sweet tales were told, Emily began to dread her name being called. No one knew of the final words Y/N had spoken to her, nor of the words she had said.

As she was waved up, dread and an overpowering sense of guilt came over her. She had caused this. She didn’t act fast enough. She didn’t go first. She should’ve taken that bullet.

Once she reached the podium nerves built, tears welled and her hands began to shake. Panic and guilt were all she felt. She unfurled a piece of paper, clearing her throat.

“I have so many fond memories of Y/N. She was the brightest, kindest soul with the most beautiful smile. Any horrid situation we faced, we faced together and for that i am insanely grateful.” The more she spoke, the more she choked up, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks.

“I will never forget her. Her funny jokes and quips, the dramatised stories of a takedown-“ She cleared her throat again, trying to blink away the tears and stop the horrid feeling of overwhelming pain and responsibility.

“I will always treasure the memory of her. She was and always will be my only love, and i forever hers.” Once the words left her mouth, reality collapsed around her. The girl she had spent years desiring was gone just when she could have her. As she walked off, out of the church doors, tears began to flow as she dissolved into a blubbering mess.

She was reminded of the nights she spent playing it over and over in her head, those words “So tell me you love me back, and i can die happy”. Those words meant so much and more. She could engrave them into her mind. Those 12 words would practically haunt her forever.

If only she knew the words wouldn’t be the only thing, but the guilt and greif would be too. The knowledge that all this could’ve been prevented. The knowledge that in another universe, this wouldn’t be Y/Ns funeral but hers. The knowledge that maybe, just maybe, if she had tried harder to save her, this could be something better. In that moment she wished it had all gone differently, she wished that they never picked up that case, she wished they couldn’t fly to Baltimore.

More importantly, she wished for her back. Emily had never felt more alone than she did right there, sat on the steps of the church crying like she never had before.

#Spotify #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #emily prentiss angst #love ya

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year

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Home (E.P.)

Summary: Emily wants to go home, but she doesn’t know how. In her search, she stumbles upon her ex’s doorstep. Request: Emily shows up at Reader's door, begging for comfort. A/N: I hope you all enjoy my first Emily fic! I cried the whole time. Couple: Emily Prentiss/GN!Reader Category: Comfort Content Warning: Self-hatred, exes, crying, kissing Word Count: 2.4k

MASTERLIST

Why is it always snowing at times like this?

Emily pondered the question quietly. Her lips fought the bitterness to try to smile.

A bit cliche, isn’t it?

But it’s beautiful.

The nighttime snow blanketed the district with a rare kind of serenity. Soft, fluffy flakes hung in the air, lazily traversing between the skyscrapers to find a place to rest.

The woman, however, felt hopelessly lost. The streetlights attempted to keep her company in the cold but flickering bulbs were still shy. The gentle beams were hesitant to touch her.

The snowflakes were not. They lingered on her skin, maintaining their sharp crystalline patterns. How long had she been wandering for a place to find rest? Long enough for pink cheeks to turn cold.

But the sting of the occasional wind was almost welcome. Its cruel kisses reminded her that she was still alive.

Alive… and alone.

It was a familiar feeling. At one time, she might have dared to call it comfortable. On nights like this, though, she was acutely aware of the heaviness of her heart. She wanted to stop, to fall to her knees and feel the peace the others always spoke about.

But her treacherous feet would march on. They would lead her through untouched snow, leaving a violent mark on the otherwise pure.

She was relieved when her feet stopped at your doorstep, albeit terrified by the reason why. She stared up at the apartment building and shivered for the first time since the cold started.

She shivered not from the wind, but from the memory of warmth.

It had been months since you last spoke. It had been her decision to leave.

Yet it had also been her decision to press the series of buttons to ensure your answer. She had decided to stand there, steadily growing heavier from the weight of weary snowflakes until something changed.

The buzzer was loud and harsh, but the latch was quiet when it clicked open.

After a moment of shock at the sound, Emily made another series of decisions.

She pried open heavy metal doors and stepped into the light. She trudged through the building with the company of soot-polluted snow on her shoulders. She didn’t even bother to brush it off when she got to your door.

That was how you would find her.

As beautiful as the day she’d left.

You said nothing. You stared at her, instead. You bit down on your tongue so that it wouldn’t give away any clues of what you might want to have said.

You waited, the same as the snow. You waited for her to explain away her unexpected visit. You tried your hardest to hide the fondness behind a veil of false rage.

You are so happy to see her, but you are devastated by the state in which she came.

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” she whispers.

The sound is small but sharp. Like the expert marksman she’d always been, her words struck you with the force of three bullets to the heart.

You shook off the pain. It was a familiar feeling.

“Why did you come here?” you asked.

You knew that she wouldn’t answer it unless you asked.

“Because….”

She didn’t answer it, anyway. The words rose in her throat just to be swallowed. She bit down on her lip the same way you cursed your tongue.

Because are the closest I’ve ever been to home, is the simple truth she wouldn’t give.

“God, why is this so terrifying?” she choked.

You watched her. Your eyes traced trembling lips the way you wished your fingers could.

Eventually, you move back to her eyes. From that angle, on that doorstep, you find no warmth in the brown. But there is a longing; a faint memory of a time when her eyes shone like bittersweet molasses in the sun.

“I swear I’m not trying to avoid answering the question it’s just… I look at you, and I realize I don’t know the answer,” she whispered.

Your eyes begged her to continue. Your heart begged her to stop hurting you like this. To stop being so pitiful when she had been the one who left.

But then she spoke, with her voice crackling like a dry fire, and your heart set aflame alongside it.

“I don’t know what to tell you except that… I’m really scared.”

Your mouth opened at the sight of tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. Your hands shook as they turned to fists to try and stop yourself from doing what you knew to be inevitable.

“I’m terrified that who I am, who I’ve always been, is something broken. Something that can’t be fixed,” she spat.

Each word laced with the self-hatred that had always stood between you.

“But then you look at me and…”

For the briefest moment, just when red-rimmed eyes met yours, the hatred stepped aside. Behind it, you saw the shivering, terrified teenage girl inside her who’d never stopped begging someone to show her mercy for not having all the answers.

She allowed herself to keep crying because at least then she could remember what it felt like to be embraced.

The tears streaming down her face were the warmest thing to have touched her all night until you.

You reached out a hesitant hand.

She winced.

You paused.

It took her a moment to remember that you had been the only person to hold her without hurting her. Not like the others, anyway.

Your hurt came from the tenderness with which you held her. It was the sweetest torture to feel a warm palm against frozen cheeks. Her nerves fired wildly; her mind rioted against reality.

You were not going to hurt her like the others.

Your fingers were gentle as they swept tears away. That kindness only made them fall faster.

“I think I just really wanted you to look at me,” she said, finally finishing the forgotten thought.

“Oh, Emily,” you sighed through a lopsided smile. “Come in. You’re freezing.”

She accepted the offer. Although she moved slowly and was careful not to brush against you or the doorframe, she moved with purpose. She stepped into your home and allowed herself to bathe in the warmth.

Her eyes were closed when you passed her by. She listened to the soft shuffling of your feet as you walked towards the kitchen.

She stayed there, just past the entrance, the whole time that you prepared warm beverages. From there, she could still smell the familiar scent of domesticity.

Old memories resurfaced. The hissing of the faucet and the crinkling of packages called to her the same way it had when she slept in too late.

She joined you in the kitchen just in time for you to leave. Still, you appreciated a second set of hands. As you handed her the warm mug, you wondered whether it would burn frozen fingers. You knew she wouldn’t move it even if it did.

Emily required guidance back to the couch, no matter how many nights she spent there. You provided it happily. Your hand rested against the damp back of her jacket and, eventually, helped remove it.

Without the weight of soaked wool fabric, she collapsed.

Words started flowing faster than you could capture. She told you about her life since she left. She never spoke about the heartbreak of you—only the ones that followed.

Thankfully, she spared you the graphic details of violence when she spoke about work. The same couldn’t be said about her personal life. But those ghosts were familiar to you.

Yet… the rage you felt had never changed. The fury at the world that hurt her never waned. It burned as strongly as it always had.

Emily had always loved your fearlessness in the face of evil. She had always assumed it was why you weren’t afraid of her.

When she had properly broken herself, the night’s silence returned. You looked at hair now dripping with melted crystals and wondered, as you always did, why she never wore it like it was.

‘It looks like a mess,’ she would say.

‘But it’s beautiful,’ you would answer.

“Can I be blunt with you?” you asked.

Emily’s attention turned up at the question.

“Of course.”

“Even if they’re nice words?”

That time, she needed time before she could answer. Hesitantly, though, she nodded. Tears that had dried up welled anew at the thought of what you might have to say.

You knew that cruelty would be kinder to her. You were still unwilling to wield it.

“The world isn’t out to get you, Emily,” you sighed.

She laughed. The sad noise sputtered from her lips while she tried to stymy insistent tears.

“These are the nice words?” she croaked sarcastically.

“Just wait,” you laughed.

That time, she sat up straighter in anticipation. Like the proud scapegoat she had always served as, she steeled her features and appeared stoic in the face of criticism.

But the tears still came. One at a time, sprinting like falling stars over the night sky of her.

“The world isn’t out to get you… You are.”

Her features fell at the thought. Her shoulders faltered and her hands gripped tighter to the mug in her hands.

“You’re so resigned to the feeling that you’ll never be enough that you just refuse to believe anyone who says otherwise.”

You knew because she’d never believed you.

“You’ve always seen the beauty in everyone. Even people with very little to love.”

Your mind ran through every one of her memories that you’d had the honor to hear about. You thought about—and cursed—every iteration of evil that had helped itself to a part of her.

Her heart, her empathy, the core of who she was, must have felt so dwarfed by their lies. The untruths they had to cling to in order to justify the horrors they inflicted on a young woman, a lover, a girl.

A girl who just wanted to be good.

A girl who had always been good.

“I just… I wish you could give yourself the same grace,” you said quietly in the hope she would listen harder than she ever had before.

Her mug hit the table without any sign of grace. She steadied it with both hands, holding tighter for a few seconds to steal just a little more of its warmth before she turned back to you.

Her arms wrapped around herself first. She bit down on her lip and looked at you just to look away again.

She couldn’t face you as she tried to ask for something she’d convinced herself she didn’t deserve.

“Can I…” she tried.

You set down your mug. Your trembling hands were also unsteady. Yet that didn’t stop you from pressing them against her face. They were weak and gentle, but sure when they made her face you once more.

She fought the heaviness and tried to smile. She almost made it, but the effort was thwarted when she spoke through a resistant throat.

“Can I hold you?” she whispered, “Just… just for a minute.”

Implicit in the words was the hope that you weren’t going to count.

Of course, you wouldn’t. Of course, you wrapped your arms around her and held her tightly against your chest.

Again, she collapsed. She scrambled to get closer, to fall into your arms and steal the warmth from you the same way she had the mug.

You gave it to her freely. You held her the same way a mother might hold a crying child. Not out of pity or obligation, but because she was scared, and she was human.

And she was beautiful. Beautiful in the way that others might never see if they are willing to stop looking where it is convenient.

Her vulnerability, rarely offered and almost never earned, would stoke the fire to ensure that neither of you succumbed to the cold.

Her tears were still warm. Inside her, there was still a heart beating, begging her to accept shelter. It sought out every reminder that she was not dead.

She was alive. She didn’t have to be alone.

That was why she had come to you.

“I miss you so much,” she sobbed.

“I miss you, too, Emily.”

Her arm curled between you, clutching her chest while she fought herself for air.

“I don’t understand why love has to hurt like this,” she whispered under struggling breath.

As you pulled away at the thought, she let you go. She practically pushed herself off you with a palpable regret.

You looked at her, both horrified and enraged at the thought.

“Emily, love isn’t supposed to hurt.”

You stopped yourself. Biting down hard on your lip, you looked away so that the anger in your eyes wouldn’t scald her in its search for the ghosts in her head.

“It can be confusing or exhausting o-or frustrating, but…”

You wiped your own tears. She watched with morbid curiosity as your own mask cracked and fell away.

You let her see it. You ran a hand over your face and took a deep breath. Then, when you were composed in your broken pieces, your hand held her face again. You imparted the healing warmth of compassion into now rosy cheeks.

She didn’t wince that time when you touched her.

“Love is never supposed to hurt, sweetheart,” you whispered back.

Her eyes closed and released a few more tears. She took a deep breath, basking in the warmth of your grace before she found that her quiet complacence wasn’t enough.

Her fingers were barely cold when they pressed against your face. They were only shaking and shy as they pulled you forward.

When your trembling lips met, they tasted the same as they always had. The bittersweet softness, the cruelest kindness one could give.

You kissed her back. The harder she pushed, the more that you gave. Her insistence, innocent and stumbling, bred laughter in tired lungs.

She was so soft, so warm, so endlessly human.

The two of you nearly toppled off the couch before she was willing to part. When she did, she laughed along with you. You fixed her hair, brushing it aside wherever it had fallen to hide the beautiful, messy state of her.

She leaned into your palm. Her cheeks felt warm.

“Thank you,” she said.

For always showing me what it means to be loved.

For letting me believe, even just for a moment, that I could do it, too.

“You don’t have to thank me,” you assured her, “I’m so happy you came home.”

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for more Emily Prentiss fics? Check out my friend @foxy-eva's Masterlist for CM Women, including Emily Prentiss, Tara Lewis, and Alex Blake!

Complete Taglist (All Works): @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writerrr , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme

#emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss #emily prentiss angst #emily prentiss comfort #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss/you #emily prentiss/reader #emily prentiss x you #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds angst #emily prentiss self insert #emily prentiss fandom

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foxy-eva · 1 year

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Till Death Do Us Part

Summary: You didn't expect grief to linger after Emily came back from the dead

Request: Could you do a hurt/comfort with Emily x reader and it involves Emily coming back after dying please?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x GN!Reader

Category: angst with a hopeful ending

Content Warnings: (16+ for sexual themes) references the storyline of S6E18 and S7E01, mentions of death and the 5 stages of grief, crying, arguing, religious metaphors, implied sex scene (non-explicit)

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

Denial

Seven months after I dropped a single red rose into my girlfriend's grave, I found her standing in front of the door of where we used to live together. It wasn’t completely surprising, considering hours before I had received a phone call from a very excited Penelope Garcia, asking me if I had heard about it yet.

She had to explain to me what it was four times until I slowly started to understand her words. However, they still didn’t make any sense. For weeks we had mourned the loss of Emily together, sharing beloved stories and looking at pictures of a woman unlike anyone else. There was no way I could believe her when she repeated the words Emily is alive over and over again until I hung up on her out of desperation.

Now that she was standing in front of me, it was even harder to believe that my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. More than once had I sensed her presence since she had passed, staring at raven-haired strangers on the street if they only resembled her in the slightest. It had never been her, so why would it actually be Emily now?

“Hi, love. I missed you,” she cooed with a shy smile on her face.

I took my time looking her up and down, noticing how the depth of her irises was still the same but a few slight wrinkles were framing her eyes now. Her hair had grown quite a bit since the last time I had seen her. Still, nothing about this made any sense, so I closed the door shut in front of her and stepped back to take a breath.

My girlfriend died seven months ago.

Emily is dead.

For a moment I wondered if she would just unlock the door and step in like she used to do after coming home from a case. But Agent Hotchner had given me her set of keys along with her other belongings when he personally informed me of her passing.

Just when I had convinced myself that I was stuck in a particularly long and cruel nightmare, another knock against my door pulled me back into what I couldn’t believe was reality.

“Please, open the door and let me explain,” Emily pleaded from the hallway.

Stepping closer to the door once more, I considered opening it but decided against it. It was too painful to look at her again, too risky to find out none of this was real and I would lose her all over again. With my back pressed against the door, I sank down to sit on the floor with my arms wrapped around my knees.

“Go away,” I kept whispering over and over again until I heard footsteps moving away from me.

Finally, this nightmare was over. For now.

I spent the following day in blissful ignorance until my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

I’m staying at the Rosewood Hotel, Room 241. Let me know whenever you’re ready to talk. xx Emily

I didn’t even question it when my body started moving, it was so deeply embedded in my subconscious to follow her calling that I only realized that I was standing in front of her hotel room door when it was already too late. Two firm knocks announced my presence.

Anger

I didn’t give her a chance to say anything as I walked into her room with rage boiling in my chest. Several times I tried to open my mouth but nothing came out. It was impossible for me to even look at her, too painful the realization that she had willingly left me alone with all this pain. My cheeks burned so hot that I feared the tears streaming down my face would evaporate immediately.

“You have every right to be angry,” she reminded me once she realized the state I was in.

It was then that I managed to lock eyes with her. She tried to come closer but I stepped back until my heel met a wall. Emily raised her hands to show me her palms as if I was a caged animal getting ready to show their fangs. In a way it felt like that.

After what felt forever I managed to get out my words, hissing, “How could you do this to me, Emily? I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you! This was the most difficult thing I ever had to do, you have to believe me. It wasn’t like I had a choice.”

I huffed at her words as they stung in my chest. “You could have taken me with you.”

“It would have put you in great danger. It was pure luck that Doyle never found out about you in the first place.”

Her voice was calm as she tried to explain what I would never be able to understand. I remembered the Agents watching out for Doyle's return in front of my house but he seemed to have moved on from Emily after killing her.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about him? After you died I felt like I never actually knew you at all. There was so much you hid from me,” my voice broke at the last words as sobs started wrecking through my body.

Too painful was the memory of finding out that the woman who I considered my soulmate hadn’t been honest with me from the start. She had fooled a criminal into falling in love with her, so it made sense that I started doubting her love for me as well. There was this whole other side of Emily only a selected few had been aware of - and most of them were gone now.

“You know it isn’t that simple.” Her words sounded almost like an apology.

“It should have been! I trusted you, Emily. And you… you just left me behind with all this pain! How was I supposed to ever recover from losing you?”

“I am so sorry. I truly am,” she whispered. “I thought I had lost you, too.”

“You did,” I snarled as I walked back to the door.

“(Y/N), please…,” she breathed.

With my hand on the door handle I lingered for a few moments, desperately trying to collect myself and wrap my head around what was happening.

“What did you think would happen now? That we could just continue where we left off?”

“Not exactly,” she admitted with a tremble in her voice.

After taking a deep breath, I turned around to face her once more, my heart stopping for a moment when I noticed the glistening in her eyes. It was very rare for Emily to let anyone see her vulnerable side. I could probably count on one hand all the occasions I had seen her crying since we met on a cold October day three years ago.

She bit on her lower lip in an attempt to hinder her tears from falling but it was in vain. I knew that her pain was sincere when she started crying but I still contemplated leaving her then. As I tried to push down the door handle, my body stopped complying and walked towards Emily instead.

It was as if I acted out of muscle memory alone when my arms swung around her neck to hold her inside my embrace. She seemed just as surprised as me but didn’t resist, instead she buried her face into the crook of my neck while my hands slowly brushed over her back to soothe her pain.

More than once had I longed for a touch like that when I was grieving her loss. The scent she had left on her side of the bed had disappeared after a few days, no matter how often I tried to remember how it smelled. Breathing her in now brought me back to those lonely nights of fantasizing about her still keeping me warm.

Bargaining

When I felt her hot breath against my neck, it was as if something inside me snapped. All of a sudden I was sure that we could make this work, that we could make up for the time lost between us. With my hand in the nape of her neck, I turned her head so she would look at me. I placed my lips on hers without waiting another second.

Her surprised gasp was muffled by my kiss and I expected her to pull back any moment, but she didn’t. After the initial shock of my unexpected move had passed, Emily reciprocated my enthusiasm. Her hands seemed greedy as they got ahold of my waist, gripping the fabric of my shirt firmly to hinder me from moving away.

She smiled into our kiss and pulled back slightly to catch a breath. But oxygen wasn’t what my body demanded in this moment, so I closed the distance between us once more. Time stood still while our mouths moved against one another as if no time had passed between us. When her tongue met mine it felt as if we would merge, making it impossible to determine where her body ended and mine began.

However, there was still a moment of doubt when Emily leaned back and whispered, “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“I don’t care,” I answered. “I need you, Emily.”

I need you to be alive, Emily.

I need to feel alive, Emily.

It became clear to me that we could undo all the damage if we just tried to love each other hard enough tonight. All my anger vanished once I felt her soft lips kissing my touch-starved body as hungry fingertips buried into supple flesh. With clothes discarded and heaving chests we fell onto her hotel bed to get lost inside each other’s arms.

I smiled against her skin when I remembered desperately praying to an unnamed deity to bring her back. A ridiculous thought now that I realized that Emily was the only goddess I had ever known. She had the power to undo the damage and show my fragile soul some mercy. Tasting her felt like having the first droplets of water after wandering the desert for seven long months, a lenten period that finally came to an end.

When she brushed along my trembling body with fingertips that had never felt warmer, she let any trace other’s had left on me in her absence vanish. How pathetic were those attempts to replace her with people whose names I didn’t even remember, false gods I seeked out in hopes to find redemption.

It never worked with anyone else but her.

I fell to my knees to sing her my hymn of praise and she answered my prayers again and again, her way of making up for the time lost between us until we both fell limp into each other’s arms. There was no distance to be found between our chests as our hearts thumped hard against their confines in an attempt to touch as well.

As sleep dulled my senses I found peace in the thought that loving each other harder than ever before would certainly be enough for us to make it through this.

But what was possible in the moonlight, by the morning seemed insane.

Depression

It felt as if I was still stuck in a dream when I woke up with Emily sleeping next to me. I was convinced that I was caught in that brief moment between being asleep and waking up where my brain liked to grant me some comfort by not letting me remember that she was gone. Only when she reached out her hand to make contact with my bare skin did I realize that I was awake. And Emily was alive.

I couldn’t help but shy away from her touch, stumbling out of bed and collecting my scattered clothes from the floor. It was too much for me to see her, to remember my ridiculous attempts from last night to make everything okay.

Because the truth was that nothing about this was okay.

Before I could leave her for good, I made the mistake of locking eyes with Emily one last time. In all those years I had the pleasure of laying my eyes on her, I always thought that she looked the most beautiful right after waking up. Everything about her looked so soft and fragile in the morning. That changed quicker than I thought possible.

The pain that was painted all over her face felt like a dagger to my heart.

“Please don’t leave,” she breathed as I averted my eyes from her.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

I tasted my own tears as I stepped out of her room, saline reminders that things would never be the same. Memories of tracing Emily’s ocean-kissed skin with my lips resurfaced and refused to be pushed away. It was my mind’s way of trying to convince me that I was making a mistake as if I hadn't already known.

After days passed of me being alone in my misery, I decided to seek out the only person who might understand at least a fraction of what I was going through. It felt familiar to walk up the stairs to Penelope’s apartment while I was crying, as I did so often right after I had lost Emily - the first time.

Penelope didn’t ask any questions when she saw me standing in her hallway, instead she pulled me into a tight hug as sobs wrecked through my body. There was no need to explain to her that I knew that I should be happy about Emily coming back but I just couldn’t. Not yet at least.

After what felt like hours, I had finally calmed down a bit, sitting beside Penelope on her couch in comfortable silence. She was petting her cat while sharing her space with me, waiting for me to be ready to talk.

“I slept with her the day after she came back,” I confessed.

Penelope couldn’t hide her surprised expression when she asked, “You did? Does that mean you’re getting back together?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t talked to her since. It was a failed attempt to pretend we could continue where we left off.”

“Do you still love her?”

“Of course I do,” I muttered. “I’m just not sure I can forgive her for leaving me.”

“I know it’s not the same but I was mad at her at first, too. But now I understand that it wasn’t Emily’s decision to leave. They didn’t give her a choice,” she tried her best to explain. “She told me that she thought about calling us – calling you – every single day but it would have been too dangerous. Not just for herself, for you as well. She tried to protect you.”

As a single tear fell down my cheek, I protested, “I never asked her to.”

Penelope understood then that she couldn’t reason with me, so she just concluded with, “I know.”

The silence between us was interrupted by a knock against Penelope’s door. The timing of all this could have suggested a genius plan to bring two of her friends back together, but she seemed genuinely surprised to find Emily standing in the hallway. My heart felt like it might explode anyway.

“I’m sorry to just come by like this but I really need a friend right now,” Emily told Penelope.

She stepped aside for the dark-haired woman to find me sitting on the couch, telling her, “So does (Y/N).”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t know.”

Penelope clearly didn’t know how to proceed, standing there almost frozen at the awkwardness of the situation.

Emily saved her after a couple of seconds. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you decide between the two of us. I’ll leave.”

Acceptance

“Emily, wait!”

It took me a second to realize that it was me who had just said that. Both Penelope and Emily were staring at me, wondering what I wanted to say. Truth be told, I didn’t know myself. I just couldn’t shake the memory of the three of us watching movies together back when Penelope tried to set me up with Emily.

She always joked that she was looking forward to me thanking her for bringing us together when Emily and I would get married. Little did I know then that death would part us before I ever got the chance to ask her to be mine forever.

I noticed a glimmer of hope in Penelope's eyes as she turned her head to alternate between looking at me and Emily. A warm sensation spread through my chest at the thought of being able to feel that too.

It was a naive fantasy to believe we could go back to the way we were but that didn't necessarily mean that things would have to end for good. It was as if that glimmer of hope Penelope displayed spread through the room.

After careful consideration I suggested, “What if we just hang out here, the three of us, I mean. Like old times.”

A timid smile appeared on Emily's face while Penelope didn't even try to hide her excitement.

“We could order pizza,” Penelope squealed. “And you could tell us about Paris!”

Like a cat unsure if she could fully trust me yet, Emily slowly entered the room but kept the door open to still be able to disappear into the night.

She locked eyes with me, asking "Do you really want this?"

The delay of my response made her step back again, ready to leave any moment. Penelope touched her arm as if to hinder her from moving away until I had made up my mind.

The truth was that I wasn't sure if that really was what I wanted. Long gone was my ability to picture her in a white dress anytime I saw her. In this moment, however, I concluded that it wasn't necessary for me to know for sure yet. All that mattered was that I was willing to give it a try.

"Yes."

My answer was far from convincing but it was enough for Emily to take it. She closed the door behind her and stepped closer until she found her place beside me on the couch. It surprised all three of us how easily conversation flowed after the initial awkwardness had vanished.

The way we interacted with one another was new, but in a comforting, familiar way. There were still so many things left unsaid but that was okay, there would still be time for us to figure it out.

It only hurt a little when Emily told us about living in Paris. More than once had we talked about going there for a vacation but that day never came. When she described in great detail how picturesque the view from Montmartre was, my heart ached at the thought that I couldn't be with her then.

"I always wanted to see the Basilica of Sacre Coeur," I mumbled.

It was obvious that she didn't think too much about it when she grabbed my hand to promise, "I'll show you one day."

I sensed her panic when she noticed me looking down at where our hands made contact. Before she could retract it, I interlaced my fingers with hers and smiled.

"I would really like that."

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