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blue.ᐟ — she/her ★ 20 ★ emily prentiss lovebot ★ baran al hashimi defender

★ hot off the press: sugar-coated melting in your mouth | emery walsh

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For Emily: infatuation

I am indeed infatuated with her!! Drunk!reader

"God, you are so pretty."

Emily's skin reddens with a blush. Her smile is small, shy, but her eyes—god, her eyes—they're bright and gorgeous and so pretty.

"The prettiest ever." You mumble, kissing her warmed cheek. Her smile grows wider under your lips, and it only makes your heart squeeze in your chest. She could kill you. Actually, literally, put-you-in-your-grave kill you.

And you'd be happy to go.

"Okay, charmer," she whispers, taking your face in her hands. Her thumb sweeps gently under your eye, catches something, and dusts it off. "Do you want to go home?"

"Yes," you slur, queasy with how soft she touches you.

Embers glow pathetically at the cylinder's tip as she takes one final drag before her hand comes up to cup your jaw, gripping tight enough for your brain to short-circuit thinking about the marks that her nails were definitely going to leave behind, holding you steady while she moves her face forward and blows smoke into your mouth.

Tobacco burns across your tongue and presses up behind your teeth until Dana pacifies it with her lips on yours, licking bitterness from inside your cheek and replacing it with the taste of cookies brought in by one of the med students after a sleepless night and break room coffee.

If anything was going to make you believe in soulmates it was this.

-wife guy anon

I love when you do these!

Tysm! :D it was a bit hard to write the actual word in so i tried to base it on the feeling of it instead ;)

You hum an aimless tune as you dip the honey wand into the jar, twirling it until the sticky sweetness gathers up in the grooves. You're careful in all of it: making sure the honey loads up properly, holding the jar close to the mug so that none of it spills out, dipping the wand into the tea, swirling it around until it's all mixed together. You have every step memorized to the letter.

The honey, you find, is not quite so sweet as the smile Baran gives you when you set the mug down next to her elbow, her hand quickly catching yours and bringing it to her lips, soft appreciation on your knuckles. You wrinkle your nose, whisper stop it and try to take your hand back, but she uses it to tug you down where she's sitting on the couch.

"Mamnoon, azizam."

The earnestness in her voice makes you flush. Cheeks hot, you mumble, a little shyly, "Nooshe jan."

🍊!! <3

You have lovely hands. Emily is entranced by the intricacies of your anatomy—the tendons in your wrists and the flex of bone under your skin as you dig your nails into the bright orange flesh of a tangerine and gently peel it back, fragrance bursting into the air between you. 

It's not the first time she'd caught herself looking. It won't be the last, Emily is sure, but for now she has a momentary excuse. You're hardly even paying her any mind; you talk easily, your voice turning into a blur, eyes fixed on the tangerine and your fingers working quick to peel it. 

Dulcet for Emily

YAY ty!! <3

"Baby, you gotta tell me what happened," Emily says quietly, rubbing a distressed Vivian's back. Her little face is pinched, an inch from devastation, her fingers curled into the collar of Emily's shirt. She gives a dry sniffle and buries her face in Emily's chest. 

"I can't fix it otherwise," Emily coaxes. Her tone is velvet-soft, dulcet for Vivian's sensitive ears. It takes a few more back rubs and soothing murmurs before her sweet girl gives.

"Serg—Serg eated m'whipped cream." She whispers, her chin wobbly, eyes glazed with tears. "All of it, 's'gone."

"It's not gone!" Emily says, catching a tear as it rolls down. "There's more, we have more. It's a whole big can, not even Serg can eat all of it, see?"

-wife guy anon

-wife guy anon