Wtf? This Is So Great? But Broke My Heart In Ways I Didn't Know Possible? That End? Criminal.

Wtf? This is so great? But broke my heart in ways I didn't know possible? That end? Criminal.

And when I call, you come home — E. Prentiss

warnings: depictions of blood, r has a pretty bad injury (a gunshot), angst, so much angst, no use of yn, technically no death, i’ve never seen snow, idk how it works so this is probably inaccurate, that’s not my problem tho. no happy ending, but whatever happens after the ending is up to you not me mwuahaha

wc: ~1,400

a/n: thank you to the sweetest ever @emilys-bangs for proofreading, shes getting many forehead kisses. i wrote this whilst listening to i know the end by phoebe bridgers. that’s all i’m gonna say.

let me know what you think, pretty please :3 comments, reblogs, and feedback are so super very appreciated!

In any other situation, the sight of snow resting on Emily’s eyelashes and the rosy hue coloring her cheeks would have made you smile. But now, the contrast of pink against Emily’s pale skin was akin to the blood seeping into the snow beneath your thigh.

"Take a deep breath." The words echoed in your mind just before the piercing pain of pressure shot up your leg. You gritted your teeth and inhaled sharply, unsure whether to feel relieved or terrified that your leg had gone numb.

“I’m sorry, ‘m so sorry,” Emily muttered, her voice tight as she tied the sleeve she'd torn from her jacket around your leg, the makeshift tourniquet pulling painfully. Through the haze of agony, you could catch a glimpse of her expression—a flicker of apology behind her determined gaze. A sheen layer of sweat covered your forehead as the last traces of color drained from your face. Your lips quivered in the biting cold, and suddenly, it felt like the tree you were propped against was sinking its teeth into your back.

The sound of blood rushing through your ears made it difficult to discern the sounds around you, but what you could hear was Emily barking desperate commands into her communication device. Your vision blurred, and you could barely make out her crouched form, her hand trembling slightly as it held the sleeve in place.

Your eyelids grew heavier with each blink, and your ragged breaths became slower. In any other situation, Emily might have thought you were simply falling asleep, but she knew better now. She knew you couldn’t. Her cold hands patted your cheeks frantically, the rough texture of her calloused palms scratching at your skin, but you didn’t have the energy to protest.

“Hey! Hey, stay with me,” she urged, her voice taut with fear, her eyes wide as she searched your face for signs of fading consciousness. “Keep your eyes open. Keep ‘em on me.” You tried—God, you tried to keep your focus on her, to cling to the anchor of her presence like you always had. But the pain was loud, the adrenaline had long since drained from your body, and all you wanted to do was succumb to the temptation of sweet relief your brain was offering.

“Hurts like hell,” you mumbled, your trembling hand reaching for her wrist. Your fingers weakly closed around her skin, the pressure barely there, but Emily felt it—she felt you hanging on, even if only by a thread.

“I know, I know,” she soothed, her voice cracking ever so slightly as she leaned closer. “But you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Your grip tightened subtly, a silent gesture. Of what? She couldn’t tell. But in that moment, she took it as a lifeline, clinging to the hope that you were still fighting.

“Where the hell are the medics?!” she shouted into the mic on her wrist, her lips pulling back in a snarl, frustration and fear overtaking her composure. You had spent hours studying Emily's face in quiet moments, memorizing every nuance—the slight crease in her brow, the tiny twitch in her eye. So when you saw those familiar signs of distress, you knew things were bad.

“What is it?” you croaked, forcing the words through your dry throat, fighting to stay conscious. Emily pressed her palm against her forehead, trying desperately to keep it together for your sake. But with your blood seeping into her hands, the icy air cutting through her lungs, and the knowledge that the paramedics couldn’t reach you, she felt like she was on the verge of breaking.

“The roads are icy. The medics... they can’t get to us.” Her voice wavered, betraying the terror she was trying so hard to suppress. You closed your eyes, a silent curse slipping through your cold lips followed by a shiver.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do,” she said, her voice shaking. You looked at her and she looked up at the darkening sky, sending a silent prayer to the one she hadn’t talked to in years. She licked her lips, inhaling deeply as if the cold air could steady her nerves. She looked back down at you, taking in the face she’d memorized over the years. The face she’d walk through hell for.

“They,” She began, her voice betraying the fear that coursed through her. the fear of not being able to do enough for you. “They’re not that far out.” She looked out into the woods, perhaps towards the road? you couldn’t tell. “We can meet them,” She assured, squeezing your hand.

You shook your head, you were more than appreciative for her stubbornness. She never knew when to stop; but, you were tired.

“No..” you shuddered, a faint smile on your lips as if you were trying to ease the hard to swallow pill you were about to shove in her mouth. “I— I can’t feel my leg, Emily.”

Emily’s face dropped and a bitter taste flooded her senses. She had two options, she could either let the fear paralyze her or she could paralyze her fear and save you—It was a no brainer.

She wrapped a hand around your left wrist, tucking her head under your arm. You winced in surprise, your sore muscles pulsing, reacting to her touch.

“Emily—” your protest died on your lips as she hooked her right arm under your non-injured leg, effectively distributing your weight across her shoulders as she stood.

A fireman’s carry, the most basic skill taught and practiced at the academy. A carry executed during sparring sessions and physical tests. A carry that she had associated with giggles and kicks as she used it to get you from her couch to her bed when you’d fall asleep. After years in the field, she’d finally applied it outside of a controlled environment, but as she took heavy-footed steps through the snow she wanted to close her eyes and be back in her living room. She wanted nothing more than for you to throw punches as you giggled and protested to be put down.

Her shoulders dug into your chests and stomach, the feeling making your breath ragged again. You didn’t know how long you’d been walking for, everything had blurred together after the bullet tore through your thigh.

"We're almost there," she promised, her voice steady despite the tremor in her breath. Her fingers dug into your leg, the pressure of her grip grounding you as the wail of sirens screamed in the distance, growing louder with every step she took. The dark stain of your blood seeped through her jacket, a vivid reminder of the weight she carried—not just your body, but the possibility of your life slipping through her hands. Every step was agony, her muscles burning with the strain.

The flashing of red and blue came into view and she could feel tears stinging in her eyes. She could hear Morgan yelling her name, and as his figure got closer she almost yelled at him for being in her way. Her legs gave out under her, and she placed you on the ground as gently as she could. “She’s concious—She’s concious but she’s lost a lot of blood, I—” She rambled, her hands holding yours impossibly tight. The paramedics surrounded the both of you, and Emily was afraid to let go. Afraid that this would be the last time she held you.

She pleaded with the stars above that they would consider her, that for once in her life they’d consider her. She felt you squeeze her hand back and that made her all the more reluctant to let go. But she couldn’t be selfish. she couldn’t do that to you.

“Prentiss! Woah, Prentiss! Let her go, you’ve done enough.” Derek’s voice cut through the haze that had overcome her, His hands enveloping her as she watched the paramedics take over.

Everything else seemed to blur together, is this what it’d been like for you?

After some back and forth with one of the paramedics, she gave in to being checked out. Derek sat next to her as she pulled the thermal blanket closer to herself, the thought of your blood being on her hands—figuratively and literally—made her shiver, though she chalked it up to the cold.

“She’s going to make it, Emily.” Derek voiced, but how could he know? He had no way of knowing, neither did she. She watched the sirens grow distant from the spot where she sat, all she could do was hope she’d done enough for you.

🥹🥹🥹

My favorite part about being sapphic is when the things I love about other women become things I love about myself. One day I was tracing another woman’s stretch marks in a dim bedroom light. And then, seemingly by accident, I was doing it to myself in my bathroom mirror. I loved the feeling of a full hand of flesh when I grabbed a woman’s hips, and then mine didn’t need to be so skinny anymore. I looked at a woman’s lower stomach pudge and thought it was so soft and cute, then never wanted a flat stomach again. Loving women can be so healing when you come from a world that doesn’t.

I want everyone to know that this is me every time someone drops a comment on something I've written:

her eyes 🥺🥺🥺

Hii I love your fics :))

I have a few fic ideas for Emily x fem reader but id never get around to write them myself :)

So I have an idea for a fluffy one where the reader is new to the BAU and has never been on a plane before and is nervous flying and it’s Emily comforting them

Or a more smutty one where Reader is over at Emily’s house or at a party or something and they decide to sneak away and end up playing strip poker

Aviophobia

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Word Count: 797

Warning: anxiety over flying?

Summary: it's your first time flying on the BAU Jet or any plane in general, and you're a bit panicked. Emily calms you.

A/n: It's a pretty short one, but quite cute!! I have the second request in my notes, can't promise I'll write it tho!! Hope you like it anon <3 Would love a repost or comment!!

■----------------------------------------■

This was definitely not normal, was it? Surely you would die now. This was it. You had survived fights with Serial Killers, abductions and an explosion of a bomb. But the first plane ride in your life was that one step too far. That one step that just wasn't justified anymore. You were going to die today.

"Hey, you alright?" Derek's voice cut through your thoughts as he walked past you, stopping for a moment to take a look at you. You were gripping the arm rests like they'd alone keep you alive, and your face felt like it had to be as white a sheet.

"Perfectly fine." You pressed out and gave him a smile that even felt painful. Judging by the face he made, it also looked painful. But thankfully he didn't press the matter and simply walked away.

You shut your eyes again, desperately trying not to panic as the flight gets a bit bumpy. You leaned your head back against the seat and took a deep breath. Just when you thought you'd calmed a bit you hit an air pocket.

You practically felt your heart sink into your stomach, your hand desperately flying to the closest living thing to get comfort from. Which in this case happened to be Emily's leg. She had it propped up on her seat, while reading a book.

As she felt your hand tightly grip onto her leg she looked up from her book surprised. You were honestly too panicked to even register anything. Your eyes were closed, fingers digging into Emily's leg and breathe a bit shaky. You just opened your eyes when you felt a warm hand on your own.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Emily softly asked you as you looked at her. You gave her an apologetic look and loosened your grip a bit, her fingers immediately intertwining themselves with yours. It did wonders to soothe your racing heart.

But just until you hit another air pocket. You squeezed her hand, so tightly it must have surely cut off the blood flow. Realisation crept over her face and her features softened immensely.

"Are you afraid of flying?" She asked, her thing gently brushing over your knuckles. The plane stabilised, and the flight got less bumpy, so you relaxed a bit.

"Apparently. Never flown before today." You admitted and shrugged. It was your first flight ever, and it turned out you did not like it at all. Emily nodded understandingly.

"You know, nothing is going to happen. Turbulence or air pockets are not dangerous. Spencer once said plane crashes mostly occur in the first five minutes or the last eight minutes of the flight." Emily spoken trying to calm you. She had probably not given the information out completely correct, but that didn't really matter. It still slightly calmed you.

"We're right in the middle of it, so it's very improbable that we'll crash." She spoke, voice still soft and soothing. She gave you a reassuring smile that actually helped. You weren't sure what exactly it was about her, but Emily never failed to calm you. In the few weeks you'd been working with the team, Emily had always been the one you had turned to for questions or advice.

"Sorry that I'm so anxious." You apologised, trying to laugh it off nervously. Emily simply shook her head.

"No, it's okay. Flying can be scary." How could one person be so sweet? She didn't judge you, didn't make fun of you or mock you. She simply assured you.

"Why did you never fly before?" She asked gently, her thumb still brushing over your knuckles. You realised it was an attempt to distract you. But you didn't mind.

"We never really had money to go anywhere far away and pay for plane tickets. So we stayed close to home." You explained and shrugged. A life very different to Emily's as the ambassador's daughter.

"We used to always do road trips though. My sister and I could pick the music, and we always got Fast Food. It was the only time we were allowed McDonald's." You spoke, a slight hint of nostalgia in your voice. It had been an obvious attempt to calm you, but it had been efficient nonetheless. You were feeling much calmer.

It became routine. In the plane you sat next to Emily, and she held your hand throughout the whole flight. No matter how long it was. And she always fluid something to talk about, something to get your mind off of the fact that you were much higher up in the sky than was ever meant for human beings. Emily knew you couldn't avoid the plane rides. It was part of the job. But she did her best to make them easier for you.