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illdowhatiwantthanks · 1 day

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The Kidney Bean & The Grape (The Surprise, Part 3)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: emetophobia (nothing graphic, but characters discuss morning sickness), mostly fluff, established relationship, pregnancy times, some explicit language Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Weeks 8 & 9 of your pregnancy are underway. Morning sickness has hit you like a freight train and you're feeling sick and gross and weak. Thankfully, Emily is always there by your side.

Week 8: The Kidney Bean

You slumped into the wall next to the toilet, shaking, a thin coating of sweat covering your face. You were so tired, so tired, of throwing up. You’d read that not all pregnant people experienced morning sickness, and that not all of the ones who did puked, and not all the ones who puked did so on a daily basis. You sent a silent fuck you into the ether to all those people.

Emily crept into the bathroom, a cup of ice chips and your favorite tiny spoon in hand. “Oh, honey,” she said, looking at you with the most pitiful, helpless expression you’d ever seen. Your hunched, exhausted body broke her heart.

You groaned and leaned your head against the tiled wall, trying to breathe steadily as waves of nausea coursed through you.

Emily grabbed a washrag from under the sink, running it under the faucet and squeezing out the excess. She folded it carefully, then sat down on the floor next to you, placing the cool rag gently on the back of your neck. She played with the messy strands of hair at your nape as she held the washrag in place.

“You think you can manage some ice chips?” she asked quietly. You thought for a moment before nodding.

You sat up and reached to grab the cup from her, your hand grazing one of your breasts. A searing, rhythmic pain shot through your body, and you doubled over, clutching your chest.

“Ow! Fuck!” you yelled, bursting immediately and uncontrollably into tears. Pain and nausea and hormones coursed through you like tributaries of some awful, body-wide river. Yet another thing you hated about being pregnant.

“What!? What happened!? Are you okay!?” Emily asked, scanning your body for harm.

You leaned into her, and she wrapped her arms protectively around your shaking body. You could count on one hand the number of times in your adult life that you’d full-on sobbed–until the last two weeks. Now you’d need at least four or five hands.

“I–” you gasped, gulping in great breaths of air as tears streamed down your face. “I hit my boob when I reached for the ice!” It would be funny if you weren’t so pitiful, if you hadn’t been nauseated and in pain for eight days straight now. The knowledge that it could and likely would last for months made you physically ill.

Emily shushed you and held your face to her chest as you cried. She knew that you’d both made the decision that you would carry. And that it was a smart decision–you were younger than her, your career was less demanding and unpredictable, and you worked from home. But at this moment? She wished with everything in her that it was her body and not yours going through all this.

As Emily rocked you, she felt like crying, too, even though this wasn’t hard for her, at least not like it was for you. It was easy to hold you when you cried. Easy to be there for you, to comfort you. To bring you plain toast and ice chips and to hand wash your tiny spoon so it was always ready. It was easy to hold back your hair while you vomited, to scrub the toilet every night so it’d be clean when you got up in the morning.

This was the hard part: watching you struggle, watching your body go through absolute hell, and not being able to do a thing about it. Somehow it was worse because you’d chosen to do it. For her. For the both of you, so that you could start a family. Emily had never realized what an immense sacrifice it was to grow a baby. You’d sacrificed your body, your time, your comfort, everything, to house this little human. It was humbling to watch.

When your sobs quieted to the occasional sniffle, she started running her fingers through your hair, matching the rhythm to your breath–or maybe it was the other way around.

“I’m so sorry you feel so bad, honey,” Emily said, her mouth pressed to the side of your head, trying to convey all the love and empathy and admiration she held for you. “Thank you for doing all this. For me and for us and for the little kidney bean. You’re amazing.”

You sat up, slowly reaching to grab the cup of ice chips.

“I thought we were calling her the blueberry?” you said, your voice still wavering, as you pressed the cool spoon experimentally to your lips.

Emily rubbed your back in gentle circles, her fingers cool and soothing from holding the ice chips. “Last week he was a blueberry. This week he’s the size of a kidney bean.”

You scrunched your eyebrows in thought, your hair a hornet’s nest, tiny little spoon poking out of your mouth. Emily beamed at you. Even now, when you felt your absolute shittiest, you were the most adorable person she’d ever clapped eyes on.

“So we’re just gonna change her nickname every week?”

“I mean, I am,” Emily decided, scooping a piece of ice out of your cup and crunching it in her mouth. “It helps me remember how big he is.”

You sighed, placing a gentle, protective hand over your stomach. Minus the puking and the insane hormones, it was still hard to believe there was a little human inside of you.

“You’re giving me a lot of shit, bean,” you said, directing your voice to your stomach. “You better be really cute.”

Emily leaned her head against your shoulder. “He’s made of you,” she observed. “How could he not be?”

You looked at her, feeling tears prickle at your eyes again. You huffed, sniffling and attempting to suck the tears back into your body.

“Ugh, stop being so romantic!” you exclaimed, smiling and wiping away a few rogue tears. You took her hand in yours, letting out a deep, shaky breath. “If you keep that up, I’ll never stop crying.”

“Anything for you,” she acquiesced. And you knew she meant it. She really would do anything for you. She’d go to the ends of the earth for you.

“Anything?”

“Mmhm,” she nodded.

“Even Ritz crackers?”

She laughed and kissed the side of your head before pushing herself to her feet. “One plate of Ritz crackers, coming right up.”

“My hero!” you called after her. And you meant it.

Week 9: The Grape

You wrestled against the apple slicer, standing on tiptoes to try to get enough leverage to break through. You were unreasonably angry at how much you were struggling. Leverage was usually an issue–you were short. But now your arms were weak and achy, too, like they were made of rubber.

Emily walked through the door, dropping her bag by the entryway and smiling at your struggling, tiptoed form.

“Need some help?” she asked, wrapping her arms around you from behind and kissing you on the cheek.

“No,” you huffed.

She raised her eyebrows at you.

You sighed. “Yes.”

“That’s what I thought,” she gloated, planting tiny, fluttering kisses all over your face and neck until you were giggling and your frustration had dissipated.

Emily maneuvered your body around so she could place her hands on either side of your face. She stared into your eyes for a moment before leaning down to kiss you. You didn’t know what she’d seen at work that day, what kind of gruesome, perverted crimes she was dealing with, but whatever it was, you could feel the stress of it, the darkness, seeping off and away as she relaxed into you. She kissed you eagerly, earnestly, as if you were a cool body of water after a long, dry journey.

When you ran out of air, you pulled away and pressed your head into her chest, wrapping your arms tightly around her. She exhaled heavily and carefully cradled the back of your head, resting her chin on top.

“You’re really great to come home to, you know that?” she told you, her voice vibrating around you as you hugged her.

“You want to talk about it?” you asked quietly, pulling away to look her in the eyes.

She shook her head. “No, not yet.”

You nodded and squeezed her hand. You wouldn’t push her to tell you, you never did. But she knew you were there to listen when she was ready to talk.

“Alright, let’s get you your snack,” she said, clearly wanting to move away from thinking about work.

You opened a cabinet, standing on tiptoes again to try and reach a jar of peanut butter.

“Hey,” Emily chastised, grasping at your reaching hand and squeezing it. “You go sit down. I’ll get it.”

“I can get my own snack, Emily,” you protested. You knew you were going to have to be less independent during your pregnancy, and it was a hard transition for you to make. You didn’t like depending on people, even Emily, though you were getting better about it the longer you were in a relationship with her.

“I know you can,” she said, pressing down the apple slicer as if it was nothing but a stapler. “But I like to take care of my wife.”

You couldn’t help but smile, blushing a little, as Emily peeled off one of the apple slices and popped it in your mouth.

“Now go sit down,” she ordered, playfully smacking your ass. You rolled your eyes but did as you were told. “Why don’t you queue up one of those animated shows you like so much? I’m not done with She-Ra yet, am I?”

Your face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really!?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, of course. I gotta find out if they finally kiss.” She stared at you pointedly. “It seems like they should, right?” She was always trying to get you to reveal plot spoilers, and you were so gullible you often fell for it.

You raised your hands and shook your head as you plopped down on your corner of the couch.

“Listen, I’ll neither confirm nor deny any Sapphic plotlines.”

“Asshole,” she called, spooning peanut butter onto a plate with the apples.

She walked over to you, plate in hand, and sat down on the couch, raising her hands in the air so you could get into your normal TV-watching position.

You’d been embarrassed at first by how much you loved your head in Emily’s lap, how comfortable and safe it made you feel. For months when you’d first started dating, you’d always wait for her to pull you into her, breathing a sigh of relief when she finally did. Until one day, she’d sat down on the couch, lifted up her arms and said, “Come on, get in your spot.”

You rested your head in her lap, relishing the weight of her arms as she lowered them. You pressed play on She-Ra, and Emily passed you an apple slice dipped in peanut butter. You crunched happily. This was a good night for you. Your favorite show. Your favorite snack. Your favorite person. Almost no nausea!

Between apple slices, Emily ran her fingers through your hair. You hadn’t felt so relaxed in weeks. So relaxed you could almost…

“Hey,” Emily prompted, holding out an apple slice, but you didn’t answer. She looked down and brushed your hair out of your eyes to find you sound asleep. She smiled softly and ate the apple slice herself.

Emily loved watching you sleep. You always slept curled, your fist resting next to your face like a baby whose thumb had slipped out of its mouth in the middle of the night. She wondered briefly if the baby would sleep like that, too, and the thought gave her butterflies. She paused the show, knowing you’d be sad later if she watched it without you–you liked to watch her watch.

She scrolled through shows and movies, but finally gave up. All she wanted to watch was you. Her heart melted as you tensed and stretched a little in your sleep, your hand wrapping protectively around your stomach. She knew she should get up, should move you to the bed. She knew that once you got there, you’d curl right back into her. That she would wrap her arms tightly around you and bury her head in your neck and hold you and the baby. She’d hold you both so close, so careful and secure, and she’d sleep well knowing you were there next to her.

There was only one person in the world she trusted to keep her family safe, and that was her. Soon, she’d move you to the bedroom. Soon, she’d turn off the lights and arm the alarms and crawl into bed next to the love of her life and her unborn child. But for now–she just wanted to watch you, your hair through her fingers and the sound of your breathing grounding her to all that was good in the world.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #hurt/comfort

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gxtfictx · 2 days

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Dating Emily Prentiss - Headcanons

some of these are nsfw

-She is the softest girlfriend ever

-always seems so strong, so badass, but she has the softest spot for you, you make her heart melt, and she never fights it back

-suuuuuuper posessive, gets jealous easily

-one time during a case, one of the local cops started flirting with you. Emily was fuming, pulling you close to her, her hands on your waist, putting your hair behind your ear, she had done it all, but this guy was just not getting it. Once the case was closed, he was about to ask you out for a drink, when Emily heard it, she run to where you were (still speechless) and kissed your lips, it was a explicit kiss, her hands on your waist possessively, a deep, passionate and romantic kiss, taking you by surprise. The guy was flabbergasted to say the least. "hey baby, ready to go?" she asks when she pulls apart. She looks at you, still out of words, and then to the guy, his mouth still opened in awe. "oh, sorry, you were saying?" he doesn't bother you anymore

-she loves having you over at her place because it's like sharing her intimacy with you, and she is a SUCKER for any kind of intimacy

-seeing you sitting around her place, walking around her kitchen messing around, cooking, listening to music and dancing, you on her couch, hanging your bras on the bathroom, randomly finding a sock or a pair of lost underwear after a night together... she loves having you around so much that you have your own drawer at her place after only 3 months of dating.

-another form of intimacy that she loves is when you wear her clothes. Hell. She loves it. She's feral for it. She always insists you look better on them anyway. She will wear it after because it smells like you, the scent calms her down, so she buries her nose into it every once in a while.

-physical touch is her no1 love language, in the sense that she will take any chance she gets to touch you. Her hand on your thigh. Will hold yours under the table every time. She caresses your shoulder, your arm. Will hold your hand on the plane during landing. When you go back after a case on the jet she'll have you laying on her, full on hugging sometimes, your back laying on her chest, she will play with strands of your hair, tickle your forearm... anything she can, she will touch

-she loves showing you off, always refers to you as "my girlfriend". "i'm gonna call my girlfriend" "i need to ask my girlfriend first" "Sure! I'll call my girlfriend to ask her if she wants to come" ...

-WILL tease the team, specially Morgan as he instists on making comments about your relationship (he never means wrong, he's not fetizishing you, it's just what he knows) "Prentiss, you and pretty girl had a good night?" "damn well we did" / "hey Prentiss any reason why you're both wearing turtle necks today? (she uncovers her neck, showing off the purple marks you had left) don't worry, you should see how i left her"

-at the beginning it would embarrass you a lot, now you've learned to enjoy it, and you even join in sometimes "Hey Prentiss, got a whip? (he says holding the leather attire to her body) You bet she does" Em loves it when you tease too.

-she definitely praises you in different languages, specially Italian because you love it (yes i'm projecting, so what, Italian is sexier than French, i said what i said)

-she's a huuuge nerd, so you bet movie marathons are a thing. She'll also keep asking you to pay attention if she has already seen it "Baby look! Look, this is the best part!" "I'm looking Em, I promise I'm looking"

-Chocolate, red wine and cherries are her 3 faves. You once got a perfume that smelled like cherries and she loved it so much she spent hours with her nose buried in your neck

-After several months of dating, you suggested to go on a little weekend trip. She was reluctant at first, but you convinced her as soon as you showed her the big jacuzzi at the hotel. She loved it so much and you had such a great time, that you started going on them every time you had a free weekend

-She has a tattoo on her ribs, right next to her boob. It was a stupid decision she made when she was 16, she instantly regretted it, hated it, and had always thought about getting it removed, until you started dating. You loved it, constantly reminding her how sexy it looked, kissed all the way around it, it made her feel so confident about it that she even started liking it, although it kind of looked like shit.

-She's not controlling at all, but she is over protective. She will murder whoever dares to touch you. (You know that scene when Spencer bends a guy's arm when he touches Tara? something like that)

-She loooooves giving you hickeys, but obviously they can't be visible, so she marks you all around. Your boobs, your thighs, your waist...

-She's a top, but she likes experimenting and will let you (and enjoy it just as much) take the lead whenever you feel like it.

-Has a whole folder on her phone for pictures of you with Sergio, most of them candid that you don't even know about

-loves showers and baths together, any time you go for a shower you can be sure she's joining you inside. You always say how inconvenient it is, but she always goes "we need to save water, honey"

-into astrology but will never admit it (she literally recognises constellations HELLO?!)

-You love her nose so much. She's always been kind of self conscious about it, but you reassured her every time, kissing it, praising her, you always told her how perfect it was for eating pussy, and that convinced her. Or maybe it was your moans after the tip of her nose bruised against your clit when she ate you out. You're not sure.

-Before she met you, she hadn't come out to her mom, nether had taken any partner home, when you started dating she told you about it, you insisted that it didn't matter, she had to do it when she was ready, if she ever was. It only took her 6 months to tell her and introduce you both.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: might do a part two in some time because there are SO MANY omg she's the cutest (like and reblog <3 )

#criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss lesbian #lesbian #lesbian pride #wlw #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #emily prentiss hcs #emily prentiss headcanons #headcanon #Emily Prentiss x reader

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