Archive of Our Own

(Tall white house with an empty room,

and your name carved over the door.)

As the rich liquid makes its way down her throat, the brunette begins to think. She lets her mind drift, allowing herself to fade out of reality and to go somewhere, anywhere, else. It’s dark in the living room; the only light source is the TV — it’s illuminating the otherwise dark space with its periodic carousel of suggestions. She’d turned the television on to watch something, but nothing had caught her eye. Instead, a bottle of wine had called her name, and Emily had heeded its insistent beckoning.

She needs the alcohol; it helps her forget. The woman’s recollections of the past — of her — all fade away as she downs more and more of the liquor. That’s not to say that the memories leave her entirely, though. They can’t; they are far too deeply embedded in the fabric of her very soul. Those seven months of bliss and eventual pain will play out on a loop within her mind, probably until the end of time. Still, alcohol makes it all easier to handle.

Despite her inebriation, the memories still manage to plague her. Her head is filled with flashes of the days spent exploring the Parisian streets, intermingled with the nights spent enveloped in darkness, the phantom sensation of limbs tangled under bed sheets accompanying the evocations. All of it makes her sick. Emily hadn’t known that the last time was the last time. If she had, things would’ve gone so much differently.

Two nights before JJ left, they’d finally gotten into bed after what felt like an hours-long argument. The younger woman had discovered fresh cuts — again. She told Emily that it had to stop, that she needed to get help. Of course, the brunette had refused; she was fine, after all. 

Just as they were settling in under the covers, facing opposite directions, their backs to each other, the silence broke. “I can’t do this anymore.” The blonde had said, her voice strained.

Emily’s defenses, her walls of which had long since been dismantled, brick by brick, erected themselves around her faster than she could have blinked, and before she knew it, she answered. “I don’t know if I can, either.”

If Emily had known then what she knows now, everything would be different; she would’ve done everything differently. She would’ve apologized, she would’ve begged, she would’ve done anything… as long as she wouldn’t have been forced to say goodbye.

Although truthfully, their parting had only lasted about two weeks. Before Emily had even been given the chance to process the breakup — to understand, to heal — she’d been thrown right back into the depths of it all. Only this time, she didn’t have her lover to lean on.

When Emily had watched the love of her life walk out their front door for the last time, it had felt as if her heart was being ripped out of her very chest. Those two weeks of solitary anguish are still a complete blur, but then Declan had been kidnapped, Hotch had called, and before Emily could even look up, she was back in Quantico, faced with the woman who’d broken her heart.

(Facing out to the tallest view,

from your place on the second floor.)

Emily hears her phone buzz, and her ears perk up at the unanticipated interruption to her pondering. Slightly surprised that anyone is texting her this late, she promptly retrieves her phone from its place on the coffee table, eagerly checking the message.

JJ, 1:42 am - hey em, i know it’s late, but i was wondering if i could come over? it’s will’s week with henry, and the house just feels too empty.

The brunette thinks about it for a moment. She’s made such an effort to move on — or at least, to convince herself she has — but of course, the pursuit has been fruitless. The blonde had long ago made herself a permanent fixture in Emily’s heart, intentionally or not. It’s far too late to try and change that now.

JJ, 1:43 am - you can say no. i know we haven’t really talked since… everything. i just… i miss you.

Emily closes her eyes after reading the second message. This is all she’s wanted, ever since they initially broke up. It's then that she feels it beginning to bloom in her chest; hope. Hope that JJ wants to rekindle… whatever they had in Paris. They hadn’t dated, that feels too juvenile of a term. The two of them had begun to build a life together, nestled inside of that little shoebox apartment on the fifth floor. 

The brunette knows it isn't smart; she knows she’s probably just opening herself up to get hurt again. Nevertheless, Emily has never been able to deny JJ anything — ever. Before she can think better of it, the woman types out a response.

Emily, 1:46 am - yeah, i’ll see you soon.

Emily, 1:47 am - fair warning though, i’ve been drinking.

JJ, 1:47 am - it’s okay. i’ll see you in 15.

Sitting alone on her couch, the TV’s glow illuminating her face, Emily begins to reflect on the simpler times; back when she and JJ had been happy, when they’d been together. The little home they’d curated within that creaky old building, the floral duvet that JJ had insisted on buying, the numerous viney plants scattered around the floors and along the walls — Emily had treated them as though they were her own children. 

The brunette recalls her horrendous nightmares, and the ability that JJ — and JJ alone — possessed to console her afterward, coaxing her back into the embrace of sleep with featherlight kisses atop her head. The blonde is the most careful, loving, and altogether perfect person Emily has ever encountered. She desperately misses the little bubble they’d constructed around themselves in Paris.

Though eventually, inevitably, the bubble had popped. Emily’s insecurity, her fear, had consumed her, regardless of JJ’s near-constant reassurances. The brunette hadn’t been able to get past her own self-hatred long enough to see that JJ loved her, scars and all. When it had all come to a head on that unsuspecting Thursday night… well, they’d been doomed from the start.

After all, you can’t love someone, nor can you allow yourself to be loved, when you still see yourself as a monster.

(Sound it out to an empty house,

was it just like you had before?)

Emily hardly notices the time passing, far too lost within her own mind. Before she can even blink, fifteen minutes have passed, and a knock sounds at her door. The brunette stands, hastily rushing to unlock the deadbolt before opening the door. Once she swings it open, she’s met with the sight of the woman she loves.

JJ’s hair is damp, and for the first time tonight, Emily realizes it’s raining outside. Frigid air blows past the two women into the living room, causing a chill to run up both of their spines. Suddenly, the older woman becomes aware that she hasn’t yet said anything. Emily steps aside, opening the door wider.

“Come in.” The brunette says simply. Honestly, she can’t find it within her to say much else. This still doesn’t feel all that real; that JJ is here.

Nonetheless, JJ smiles slightly as she walks further into the house. The blonde takes in the state of her surroundings as Emily closes and locks the door. The brunette’s home looks as it usually does. Half-empty mugs are scattered around the living room and kitchen, paperbacks littering practically every surface — Emily despises hardcovers. 

The brunette observes the younger woman from the doorway, watching as JJ stands there blankly. She looks so… lost. She’s barely moving, bundled up in a black sweater that’s clearly far too big for her. After a closer look, Emily realizes that it belongs to her — or at least, it used to.

Pushing that newfound knowledge aside, Emily saunters over to the couch and sits back down. She swiftly pulls a blanket over her knees; the brunette needs a barrier, something she can use to protect herself — from what, she isn’t sure. “Do you want a drink?” She asks, already pouring another glass for JJ. Unintentionally, when Emily had been perusing her wine rack earlier this evening, she'd chosen the blonde’s favorite.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” JJ answers quietly, sitting down on the opposite end of the sofa, as far from the older woman as possible. Emily hands her the freshly-poured glass of red, and she takes it gladly. From there, a silence falls over them, though the sensation is familiar in its intensity. They sit in it, the silence, for some time. Eventually though, JJ must end up gathering enough courage to pose one simple question.

“What were you doing up?” She asks around the rim of her wine glass. JJ tucks her legs underneath her as she hides behind her drink. Maybe she feels the need for a barrier, too — some way to avoid the inherent vulnerability of their relationship.

“I don’t really know. I couldn’t sleep, or I just didn’t want to.” Emily responds, still refusing to look at the other woman. All of this feels far too reminiscent of their past. They’d spent countless nights drinking wine and exchanging secrets. Somehow, those nights had always ended in the making of promises.

“I’ll never leave.” JJ would say.  

“I love you more than anything.” Emily would respond.  

“You’re all I want.” The blonde would whisper. “I want to be yours forever.” She would say soon after.

“Forever.” The brunette would echo.

Every promise — every one of them broken — has played out on a loop in Emily’s head since their inception. They refuse to leave her alone, forever neglecting to let her forget. Instead, the words torment her, dancing around in her mind as if to say; ‘Look, we were right. She never loved you. If she had, why would she have left?’

A long silence follows Emily’s response, until a thought abruptly pops into her head. Suddenly, she’s speaking, the words tumbling from her mouth.

“Why do you still wear my clothes?” The older woman asks, finally turning her head to look at JJ. The blonde’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly, clearly not having been expecting the question.

“I…” JJ doesn’t finish the sentence right away. She searches for the right words as Emily waits. The brunette begins to think JJ isn’t going to respond, but then she does. 

“I guess it… makes me feel safe?” The younger woman says, a questioning lilt to her voice, as if she isn’t sure if her response is the truth. Regardless, she goes on. “After I left Paris, when I got back to D.C…” JJ pauses, sighing slightly before she continues. “Everything felt so out of control. Will and I were figuring out custody, the team was practically in ruins, you were…” The blonde stops again, deciding to continue her explanation some other way. “My life just felt… different without you in it.” JJ averts her gaze from Emily, looking instead at the clock on the brunette’s wall. She inspects it as the ticking hands seem to mock her. “It felt wrong.” The blonde admits, barely above a whisper. 

Emily just stays silent, listening intently. The sparks of hope in her chest continue to grow, regardless of her vehement attempts to snuff them out.

“Nothing felt like home anymore. The only thing that felt normal, that felt right… was you.” JJ’s eyes rapidly dart around the room, looking everywhere but at Emily. The blonde sighs lightly. “I guess that’s why. Despite everything, your clothes… they make me feel safe. Like you’re still with me.” JJ smiles, though the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Once again, words fall from Emily’s lips without her permission. “Did you regret it?” She asks. The question is one she’s pondered for months now. The brunette doesn’t care if it’s awkward, honestly. She just needs to know.

“Regret what?” JJ wonders aloud, meeting her gaze. Blue orbs chase brown, practically daring Emily not to look away.

“Leaving. Did you regret it?” The older woman clarifies, causing JJ to freeze. When she sees the panic on the blonde’s face, Emily speaks again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“No, it’s okay. I…” JJ’s voice sounds precarious; she knows how much this means to the other woman. “I did. I regretted it, but not for the reasons you want me to.” Emily averts her eyes, pushing down the reflex to scoff defensively. Still, despite her better judgment, the blonde lets herself rest a hand on Emily’s cheek. The brunette feels JJ’s palm make contact. The touch is foreign, yet so hauntingly familiar, and she doesn’t quite know what to do with it.

“I needed to leave, Em. If we had kept on going down that road… things would’ve turned out a lot worse than they did.” Emily nods, JJ’s thumb brushing back and forth over her cheekbone. “I loved you, more than I could ever begin to express, but…” The brunette feels JJ’s thumb wipe away a tear, and it is only then that Emily realizes that somehow, she’d begun crying. “You didn’t love yourself.”

Emily has been fighting it since JJ had first walked in. Although at this point, the alcohol in her system has just about managed to convince her to surrender to her desire. She quiets the voices in her head telling her to run, to push the younger woman away, and instead lets herself nuzzle JJ’s palm, gently kissing the soft skin that resides there.

Neither woman says anything as the brunette takes JJ’s hand in her own, placing kiss after kiss along the blonde’s knuckles, then her wrist, and eventually all the way up her arm. When Emily’s lips reach her shoulder, she pauses, leaning up to whisper in JJ’s ear.

“I wanted to. I wanted to learn how to. I would’ve…” Emily pauses, laying her head upon the skin between JJ’s neck and shoulder, whispering her next words right into the blonde’s ear. “I would have done anything if it meant I could have kept you.”

(Savior pulled from an open mouth,

did you want to be something more?)

The blonde doesn’t say anything. Neither of them do. They just stay like that, with JJ’s left hand cradled in Emily’s, the brunette’s face hidden in the long tresses at the blonde’s neck. The moment finally breaks when the older woman speaks.

“Jay…” Emily begins, trailing off quickly. She wants to say she’s sorry, she wants to say how she wishes things could have gone differently, she wants to say so many things, but JJ stops her before she can.

“Don’t, please.” She says, a desperate look on her face. At the blonde’s words, Emily finally lifts her head from its hiding place, meeting JJ’s gaze. Their faces are mere inches apart now, closer than they’ve been in months. The brunette gives her a quizzical look, prompting the younger woman to explain. “After all we’ve gone through, after everything that’s happened… just, don’t.” Emily feels JJ’s hands cup her cheeks once more. This time, the blonde’s eyes are filled with tears.

“But —”

“Don’t,” JJ cuts her off. “God, Emily. Can’t you just… give me this? Just for tonight, can you let me forget? Forget that we hurt each other, forget that I left, forget that we both got our hearts broken? Can you please, just… make me feel something else?” The younger woman’s expression is colored with desperation. She’s begging, pleading for this. 

Emily takes a deep breath and gently lets it out, steeling herself. “What do you want me to make you feel?” She asks, slowly letting the words out. 

“Something other than… this.” JJ’s eyes fall closed in resignation as she says it. “I meant it, when I said I miss you.” She sighs tiredly, still refusing to open her eyes, as if looking at Emily in this moment is simply unfathomable. “I miss you, I miss us, I miss being yours. I miss the feeling of holding you, of being held by you.” JJ lets a humorless laugh out, and it’s clear that the sound is devoid of any mirth. “I miss the way you made me feel, the way you’ve always made me feel — before all the fighting, before all the endless arguments, when we were just… happy. I want to get back to that, I just don’t know how.” She admits, still keeping her eyes shut.

Consequently, JJ doesn’t see it when Emily smiles bittersweetly; she wants that, too. That’s all she has wanted since the day the younger woman had left. Oblivious of the other woman’s feelings, JJ continues. “I don't care about what happens tomorrow, but… for tonight, I just wanna be yours again.” JJ confesses it in a breathy whisper. Emily is silent, a bit stunned by the blonde's request. “Please.” JJ begs quietly.

(Now you're taller than you've ever been, 

there's a mark on the wall, you see?

I'm sure that someone will draw a new one,

and cover it before they leave.)

“Okay, but…” Emily smiles, even though the blonde doesn’t see it. JJ is far too preoccupied with her own body, focusing on her breathing as an attempt to keep the tears at bay. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re going to do it right.” Emily stands up from the couch, the younger woman’s hands still in hers.

“What?” JJ’s eyes finally flutter open, confused by Emily’s movement. “Where are we going?” She asks, quickly standing with the brunette.

“To the bedroom. We haven't done this in three months; we’ve been broken up for three months. Neither one of us has been with anyone since… our last night together.” Emily’s words are rushing out, and honestly, she doesn’t want to stop them. “Do you remember that?” She asks quietly. There’s a small twinkle in the brunette’s eyes, as if the memories of that night are flashing through her irises.

JJ whimpers, Emily is driving her insane. The brunette’s left hand is placed around her throat, her right drawing tight patterns on her clit. She’s refused to let JJ come three times now. It has been absolute torture for the blonde, being worked up right to the edge, only for Emily to pull her back, just before she can fall. 

“Please, Em — I can’t take this anymore.” JJ’s voice is ragged, her breathing labored as she gulps down air desperately. Instead of showing her any mercy, Emily’s hand around her throat tightens, pressing harder against the younger woman’s pulse-points. The brunette is careful not to hinder her windpipe; JJ is struggling to breathe enough all by herself.

“If you want me to let you come, then say it.” The brunette demands. 

“No.” JJ refuses. They had been arguing before this — they have been arguing for weeks. Sex has always been their solution to fights, even though it isn’t a real fix. If anything, it just makes things worse.

“Say it, or I’ll stop.” Emily says, her eyes flashing dangerously.

JJ whimpers as the brunette’s fingers on her clit dip lower, letting two of her fingers enter the blonde, beginning to thrust in and out of her at a steady pace. “Fuck —”

“Say it.” Emily demands again.

“Fuck — I… I’m yours. I’m yours, Emily. God, I’m gonna —” JJ comes with a strangled cry, Emily’s fingers never stopping their movements.

JJ smiles at the memory. “Yeah. I remember.” She answers quietly.

Emily smiles, too. “You always refused to say it, back in Paris. And now, you’re practically screaming it from the rooftops.” The brunette tucks a strand of hair behind JJ’s ear, brown gazing longingly into pools of ocean blue. “Why is that?” She asks.

“In Paris, you were asking me to say that I belonged to you.” Emily hastily opens her mouth to argue, but JJ beats her to it. “I don’t have a problem with the possessive thing.” She assures, it’s the truth.

The brunette’s brow furrows, a confused expression appearing on her features. “You don’t?” JJ shakes her head quickly in response. “Then… why?” Emily asks incredulously, still not quite understanding.

“I don’t have a problem with it — as long as it goes both ways. Back then, I don’t think it did.” JJ explains, albeit hesitantly. Emily wants to disagree, to tell the blonde that it hadn’t been about ownership. Deep down though, she knows JJ is right. “It’s okay, Em. I get it.” A small smile shows up on  JJ’s face, gently lifting her commissures.

“You do?” The older woman’s voice seems bewildered, riddled with disbelief. They’re still in the living room, standing toe-to-toe next to the couch, wine glasses long since having been forgotten.

JJ responds, regardless of Emily’s apprehension. “I do. Neither of us have ever had that somewhere, that someone; where we could be ourselves, where we could belong. The team came close, but they didn’t know about Doyle… or Roslyn.” Bringing up her sister isn’t easy, and the blonde knows that Emily knows that; she’s the only one that even knows about Roslyn.

Emotion threatens to overwhelm the younger woman, but she pushes through it, vehemently ignoring the tears that beg to fall. “We’ve always had to hide parts of ourselves from everybody… except for each other.” The teardrops along JJ’s waterline finally dare to make their way down her cheeks. Emily relinquishes her hold on the blonde’s hands, instead wiping the tears away, stroking the ridiculously soft skin of JJ’s face.

Now that they aren’t holding hands, the blonde lets herself hold Emily’s waist. It’s steadying; she needs the familiarity of the embrace to ground her. “With you… I don’t have to be the daughter of an alcoholic mother. With you, I don’t have to be the grief-stricken little sister that everyone looks at with pity. With you, I don’t have to be the girl from a small town who’s terrified to admit who she really is, just because her family thinks it’s a ‘sin.’ With you…” JJ’s voice breaks, and she trails off.

The blonde leans her head against Emily’s, and the strength she gains from the added contact makes her brave enough to continue. “With you, I'm just… me. You’re the only one who sees me.” JJ lets the words slip past her lips, and it feels like some tremendous weight has been lifted off her shoulders. As if admitting this, admitting this to Emily, is the bravest thing she could’ve done.

With the relief of that feeling, JJ finally makes her point. “So now, it means something different. It means that I belong to you, but you belong to me, too. We belong to — with — each other. You’re mine just as much as I am yours; whether you can admit that to yourself or not.” The blonde smiles slightly, an odd satisfaction rising within her at the thought.

Emily laughs slightly. “Is that so?” She teases, her defensive nature peeking out from beneath the surface. Vulnerability has never been easy for her, and JJ knows that. Still, the blonde knows she’s right.

“It is.” JJ says, matter-of-factly. She pulls her head back from Emily’s, stares into her deep brown eyes. “You’d kill for me, wouldn’t you?”

Emily’s jaw clenches, her demeanor suddenly turning serious. “Yes.” She answers, her tone leaving no room for debate. After all, it’s true.

“You'd destroy anyone who dares to touch me, wouldn’t you?” JJ presses, letting herself step further into Emily’s space. They’re sharing the same air now, only a few mere inches between their faces.

The brunette's eyes flash, something dangerous and primal lurking just within her irises. It should scare JJ, this other side of Emily; the one that’s violent, possessive, far darker than the older woman usually reveals to the world. Instead, it shoots a thrill through the blonde. For some reason JJ doesn’t feel like analyzing, it’s exciting to be wanted like this. “Yes.”

“You’d die for me, wouldn’t you?” The blonde asks, though it’s purely rhetorical; they both know what the answer is.

“I did.” Emily reminds her, and it’s true, in a way. 

Even if Emily didn’t actually stay dead, she had agreed to the whole charade of faking her death for one reason; JJ. She needed to protect JJ, and going into hiding had been the only way to ensure that Doyle never found out about the blonde, or what she truly meant to Emily.

Ignoring the sheer gravity of Emily’s admission, JJ continues. “You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” JJ says, leaning forward slightly.

“I would.” Emily answers, without missing a beat. Their eyes are trained on each other, neither of them daring to look away. Seas of ocean blue meet pools of caramel brown, blending together somewhere in the middle.

“So it's true.” JJ smiles, that same twisted satisfaction cresting within her. “You are mine, and I am yours.”

(Mark my words, there's a thousand things, 

that don't wash out with anything.)

Neither of them are sure who initiates it, but in the next moment, they're kissing. JJ’s arms rise to encircle Emily’s neck, and the brunette’s hands fall to the underside of JJ’s thighs. The blonde understands immediately, letting herself be hoisted up. She wraps her legs around Emily’s hips, locking her ankles together at the brunette’s back. Their lips never break apart.

The older woman walks them deeper into the apartment, cradling JJ gently in her arms. Emily is two or three inches taller than the blonde, but like this, JJ has to lean down to kiss her. Before the younger woman can even realize where Emily’s taking them, her back hits the wall of the door to the master bedroom, and the brunette is pressing herself up against JJ. 

Emily pulls back only slightly. “Lift your arms.” She orders, their lips brushing each other as she speaks.

JJ doesn’t have to be told twice, quickly throwing her arms up over her head. Honestly, she’s missed this; the way Emily naturally takes charge during sex, it means that she can just shut her brain off. This is the only time when JJ can surrender to the gnawing urge to let someone else take control — completely. The brunette pulls the black sweater over JJ’s head, the same one that had once belonged to Emily. She finds a lacy, navy blue bralette underneath. 

“Fuck. I forgot how perfect you are.” Emily mutters quietly, quickly pulling the bralette over JJ’s head, as well. Once both garments are gone, laying forgotten on the floor, the brunette speaks again. “I’m gonna make you see stars, mon soleil.” 

“Emily —” JJ breathes it out, cutting herself off unintentionally when the brunette wedges a thigh between her legs. She’s always found languages incredibly sexy, and given the fact that Emily speaks six, JJ had been a goner from the very beginning. 

“I also forgot how much the languages turn you on.” Emily chuckles as she licks her lips, clearly amused by the notion that JJ can be aroused by something as simple as her speaking another language. Emily leans into JJ’s neck, one of her hands moving up to cup the blonde’s breast. She weighs it in her hand, teasing the rosy bud as she begins to suck bruises into the skin at JJ’s neck. 

“Je veux te voir, mon amour.” The brunette smirks when she hears JJ’s whimpers. She sucks another mark into the skin just behind the blonde’s ear, and JJ can feel her breathing. “J'ai raté les sons que tu fais.” Emily whispers, her voice having dropped an octave or two.

“I have no idea what you’re saying, but keep saying it.” The blonde smiles as she speaks. Emily rises from JJ’s neck to kiss her, mirroring JJ’s expression. It’s as if the happiness they've both been searching for is finally blooming in their chests.

“Tu es le seul pour moi, je ne peux pas avancer. J'ai essayé.” The brunette lets the words slip past her lips, unafraid. Under any other circumstances, Emily would be far less likely to voice it, to speak it into truth, but JJ doesn’t speak French, so she’s safe. Vulnerability is conditional upon whether the other person can understand you, she supposes.

“Seras-tu à moi pour toujours, mon soleil?” The older woman asks, not expecting a response. She doesn’t expect JJ to respond, but then she does.

“What does that mean?” The blonde wonders aloud. Emily shakes her head dismissively, kissing JJ instead of responding. She tries to distract the younger woman, swiping the tip of her tongue over JJ’s lips. The younger woman sees through it, and speaks again. “Tell me. I wanna know.” 

Emily sighs; her aforementioned aversion to vulnerability is deeply ingrained within her. This goes against every self-preservation instinct she has, but this is JJ, so the brunette pushes through. “It means, will you be mine forever, my sun?” She explains, bashfully avoiding JJ’s gaze. 

The blonde’s eyes light up, a smile quickly appearing on her face. “Yes.” She promises determinedly. JJ takes hold of Emily’s face, surging forward to kiss her; she never wants to stop. When they eventually break apart, both women are panting. 

She’s still trying to catch her breath, when a question pops into JJ’s head. “Why do you call me that, my sun?” She asks, genuine curiosity lacing her words. “You always have, even in Paris, but I never asked what it meant.” JJ doesn’t seem to grasp how vulnerable Emily is feeling at this moment, she’s blissfully unaware that the brunette is reeling.

Emily sighs, her eyes fluttering closed as a faint blush appears on her cheeks. This admission, it’s positively terrifying. Calling JJ by this name had always been something of the brunette’s own, something only she understood; explaining it seems as if it will ruin the mysticism. She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. Through it all, JJ is there, ever-present, patiently waiting for Emily to gather her courage.

“It… in French, it’s — it means something else.” She tries to explain it, the gravity of what the name means, but words seem to be escaping Emily. “Mon soleil, it means… my light; my only light.” She smiles to herself, casting her gaze down to the floorboards, purposefully avoiding JJ’s eyes on her.

Still, the younger woman doesn’t rush her. She lets Emily take all the time she needs, still holding the brunette’s cheeks even as her head hangs low. 

Eventually, Emily seems to gather the strength to continue with her explanation. 

The brunette lifts her head, her hands moving from JJ’s hips to cradle the younger woman’s face in her hands. Their gazes melt as irises bleed into each other, and it’s then that JJ realizes; there are tears in Emily’s eyes. “That’s what you are to me, Jay.” She finally says, putting an end to the heavy silence that had started to plague them. “You’re the last glimmer of hope in my otherwise dark head. You always pull me back to myself, whenever I start to wander.” Emily chuckles, but it’s devoid of any humor. It’s more amazement, almost adoration, than anything. “You saved me, and you keep saving me… from myself.” The brunette bows slightly, resting their foreheads against one another’s. “Mon soleil; you are my only light in the darkness.” 

(I keep you clean you surrounded me

and my windows are breaking.)

Some unspoken, indefinite feelings surges within JJ; she’s not exactly sure what it is. She rides the high that Emily’s words have given her, crashing their lips together with uncharacteristic desperation. The older woman responds immediately, meeting JJ halfway. 

“Take me to bed.” JJ says breathlessly. It’s less demanding, more of a plea. Her voice has dropped a couple octaves, the hoarse nature of it a far cry from her usual inflection.

The brunette smiles, cradling JJ in her arms once more. Emily somehow manages to open her bedroom door with one hand, quickly turning them around so she can kick it closed. She walks backwards carefully, until her knees hit the edge of her queen-sized mattress. Emily falls into a sitting position atop of the sheets, and JJ goes right along with her. Then they’re kissing again, hardly a moment after the brunette hits the bed. 

The blonde is straddling Emily, one knee on either side of the brunette’s hips. Much to JJ’s annoyance, the other woman is still fully clothed, whereas she herself is naked from the waist up. Thankfully, she isn’t really able to focus on it for long, though. Emily’s hands move from her thighs to JJ’s hips, guiding the younger woman to grind down on her.

JJ feels the friction, even through her jeans, and it’s so good. She hasn’t felt like this in a long time, not since before they’d broken up. It’s hard to describe, but touching Emily, being with her… it feels like coming home.

The brunette begins laying kisses on JJ’s jaw, then down her neck. “You drive me crazy.” Emily whispers into tan skin, her admission has JJ gasping for breath. “You make me want to scream — to let everyone in the entire world know that I’m the only one lucky enough to get to love you.” She says, her lips reaching JJ’s collarbones.

“Emily…” The blonde’s eyes flutter closed as the brunette kisses a path down her chest, leaving sporadic marks wherever she pleases. When Emily takes a nipple into her mouth, her hand massaging the neglected breast, JJ simply can’t take it anymore. “Touch me, please. It’s been too long.” She begs, her voice ragged and breathless.

Emily nods, more to herself than to the woman in her lap; it’s a silent way of reassuring herself. Regardless of the brunette’s confident performance, she’s nervous. They’ve been broken up for months, and they had only ever had sex in the little bubble they’d created in Paris. What if it’s different now? What if Emily is different now? 

Her inner turmoil must show on her face, because suddenly, JJ is stroking her thumb across Emily’s cheek, lifting her jaw, forcing her to make eye contact. “Hey, it’s okay.” The blonde whispers, smiling gently. “It’s just me. We’ve done this countless times before, and every time, it’s been amazing. I trust you.” JJ says, still smiling. She places a chaste kiss to Emily’s lips, a silent form of reassurance. 

“Please, Em. I wanna feel you again.” JJ goes back to begging. Emily, still feeling a little insecure, decides to ignore the self-deprecating voices in her head, and listen to what the other woman is telling her. JJ is here, promising her that this is what she wants. Who is Emily to deny her?

The blonde’s eyes flutter closed as the brunette unbuttons her jeans. “Stand up.” Emily orders, the dominant tone of her voice is driving the other woman crazy. JJ scrambles off the brunette’s lap nonetheless, standing to rid herself of her pants. She had taken off her shoes when she’d first come in, so there’s one less thing to worry about. 

Emily joins the blonde in her undressing. The older woman quickly pulls her sweater over her head, but leaves her bra and sweatpants on. After all, she wants to focus on JJ. When Emily looks up, the blonde is suddenly in just her socks and panties. The brunette stares at her like she hung the stars in the sky. “Make me yours again… please.” 

At the blonde’s words, Emily surges up to kiss JJ. The brunette turns them around, walking the younger woman towards the bed. JJ’s back hits the mattress, and Emily is crawling after her immediately. The older woman takes stock of the perfection beneath her; lean muscle, tanned skin, honey blonde hair that’s slightly disheveled from Emily running her hands through the long tresses. Her resolve breaks at the unhindered sight of JJ, letting herself lean forward finally. Emily kisses every bit of skin she can reach, periodically sucking bruises into the porcelain flesh. 

“I missed that.” The blonde practically whimpers, but still, Emily’s lips don’t lift from JJ’s skin. Instead, the brunette makes a small ‘hm’ sound, as if she’s asking the younger woman to elaborate. “I missed waking up the next morning, seeing the bruises you left the night before.” JJ explains, her tone featherlight and breathy, barely audible through her panting.

Emily hums slightly in acknowledgement, continuing to neglect words. “Do you remember that one night? When you left the bruises on my hips?” JJ asks, smiling as the memories flash across the back of her eyelids. The brunette, still kissing down JJ’s body, lets a small laugh escape her. Emily nods, moving further down the blonde’s chest, worshiping the skin below her small breasts.

“God, I won’t ever forget that night. You were mad about something…” The blonde trails off, trying to remember it all clearly. “Oh!” JJ exclaims, as it suddenly comes back to her. “We had gone to a bar that night, and some random guy hit on me in front of you. You were pissed.” She feels Emily smile — though it’s probably more of a smirk — against her abdomen. 

“You decided to wear the strap, the biggest one we had.” JJ bites her lip, the thought of it sending a thrill through her. “I was face down on our bed, and you were behind me.” She cuts herself off with an unintentional gasp, brought on by Emily practically biting into the flesh of her thigh. “You fucked me until I was begging you to stop. It was incredible. Then, the next morning, there were bruises on my hips — in the shape of your hands.” 

Emily smiles at the blonde’s retelling of the story. “I remember.” She says, her lips finally reaching the hem of JJ’s panties. “I wanted to ruin you for anyone else.” The brunette explains, inhaling the scent between JJ’s thighs, her eyes practically rolling back into her skull. “Did I?” Emily asks.

“Yes.” The blonde answers, without a trace of hesitation. “Nobody could ever make me feel the way you do. It’s not just about the sex, either. You — you make me feel so… special — adored, almost. I know I’ve never told you that before, but it’s true.” JJ admits, glancing down to where Emily lays between her legs. She finds that the brunette is already looking up at her.

“Good; you deserve to be worshiped, mon soleil.” Emily smiles when the nickname slips out with practiced ease. JJ mirrors the expression. It feels… different, now that the blonde knows what it means. There's a pause, both women feeling very aware of what comes next. “Can I?” The brunette asks, her fingers playing with the seam of JJ’s panties. Funnily enough, Emily recognizes the pair — it’s one she’s pulled down JJ’s legs before, what feels like a lifetime ago.

The younger woman nods quickly, granting permission. Emily doesn’t waste a moment, quickly dragging the lacy fabric down JJ’s thighs. She doesn’t quite get them all the way off, though. Instead, the older woman is distracted by the sight of JJ laid completely bare, and the scent of her has Emily reeling. 

The brunette leans forward, licking a single stripe through JJ’s folds, and the blonde gasps in response. Emily is pulling back just as soon as she’d started, needing to say something. “Jesus. I forgot how good you taste.” Emily’s voice is deep, gravelly. Then suddenly, she gets an idea. 

Without warning, the brunette slips two fingers into JJ. The younger woman fights the urge to let out a strangled sob. Going from nothing to something that fast feels like whiplash — but it’s so good. Nonetheless, Emily’s fingers are met with hardly any resistance whatsoever. She smirks when she feels JJ’s walls fluttering slightly, surrounding her fingertips.

“You’re so wet.” Emily whispers, marveling just a bit. She crooks her fingers upwards, hitting that magical spot inside JJ with practiced ease. 

“Fuck, ‘s so good.” The blonde pants, her eyes fluttering closed as a million different sensations fly through her, all at once. She can feel the coil inside of her tightening incrementally, and she knows it won’t be long until she falls off the edge. Then, before JJ can even process what’s happening, Emily’s fingers are gone, and she’s left feeling hollow. “What —” 

Before JJ can finish her questioning, she feels Emily’s soaking fingers against her lips. The blonde opens her mouth automatically, letting the two digits slide into her mouth. She licks her own wetness off of them, sucking enthusiastically, hollowing her cheeks. JJ’s eyes are still closed, and Emily decides that just won’t do.

“Look at me, baby.” The brunette demands softly, coaxing her. When JJ opens her eyes, she’s met with the sight of Emily’s head resting on one of her thighs, blown-out brown eyes gazing up at her. The blonde’s stomach swoops dramatically. “I wanted you to know how good you taste.” Emily smiles, putting on a show of mock-innocence. 

JJ nods absentmindedly, still a bit bewildered by the brunette’s displays of dominance. Emily’s fingers eventually slip out of her mouth, and the younger woman takes the chance to begin speaking. 

“Stop teasing me, please. It’s been months.” JJ begs for something — anything. She just wants to feel normal again, and being with Emily is the only thing that’s ever felt right. She wants to reclaim that feeling, the one that blooms in her chest, the one that feels like fireworks.

“Patience, my love.” Emily laughs, just barely. Seconds later, she’s licking up and down JJ’s folds, lapping up the excessive wetness that’s gathered there. She probes at the blonde’s entrance, not quite daring to go that far — yet. All the while, every time Emily’s tongue passes over JJ’s clit, the blonde lets out barely-restrained whimpers. When the brunette’s lips close around the little bud, JJ loses it.

“Fuck!” She nearly screams, one hand fisting in the sheets, nearly pulling the corner off the mattress. The other in Emily’s hair, fingers desperately clinging to the dark tresses. “Oh, God — just like that.” JJ cries, her eyes rolling back in her head when Emily slides a single finger into her. 

It’s enough, barely. Then, a moment later, JJ wants more, and so she asks for it. “More, please.” She says around a gasp, her words are nearly unintelligible. “Fuck —” The blonde is cut off by her own moan when the brunette adds a second finger, then a third. 

“Breathe, baby.” Emily coos, her voice teasing. The blonde just whines in response, squirming as she fists her hands in the sheets. JJ tries to stop it, she really does, but her orgasm is fast approaching, and she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to hold on much longer. 

“I’m gonna — fuck, I…” She feels the brunette’s teeth graze her clit, only slightly, but it sends shockwaves through her entire body nonetheless. “Please, Emily. Can I come for you?” 

JJ always has to ask for permission; always. Emily’s favorite pastime involves holding the younger woman on the edge for hours, reducing her to a desperate pile of want and desperation. It just makes the blonde’s eventual release that much more pleasurable when she finally gets what she craves. 

Still, Emily feels like dragging this out for a little while longer. She’s missed this, after all. “Not yet.” The brunette says into JJ’s center. It’s barely audible, but the blonde catches it. She practically sobs when Emily thrusts her fingers in and out faster.

“I can’t —” JJ breathes out shakily. She’s barely holding on, she won’t be able to endure this much longer. “Please, Em.” The younger woman is erratically gulping down air, almost hyperventilating. JJ’s hips keep involuntarily bucking up towards the brunette’s mouth without her permission, her body subconsciously chasing its release.

“You can.” Emily says, punctuating the statement by throwing an arm over JJ’s hips, holding her down as she continues to torture the blonde. “Be a good girl for me, just hold on a little longer.” The older woman coos, her voice dripping with barely-masked condescension. 

The blonde whines, but nods nonetheless. Emily is far too preoccupied to take note of the gesture, her face still buried between JJ’s thighs. When the younger woman’s legs begin to shake around her head, the brunette taps one of JJ's thighs twice. It's Emily’s little nonverbal way of granting permission.

JJ’s body has, in a way, been trained. So, the second she feels the light taps, the blonde comes undone with a cry. Her head falls back as a guttural moan rips its way out of her throat. The hand in Emily’s hair fists so tightly, she’d be worried about ripping it out if her mind wasn’t completely debilitated by the waves of pleasure coursing through her. JJ’s thighs clamp shut around the brunette’s head. Thankfully, Emily doesn’t seem to mind not being able to breathe; she just keeps pumping her fingers in and out, gradually slowing her pace, leaving little kitten licks to JJ’s clit.

It takes a while, it could be five minutes or fifty, but eventually the blonde comes back to reality. She feels Emily’s fingers stilled inside of her, the woman’s tongue gently lapping up any excess wetness, and it’s all too much. “Em.” JJ sighs out breathily. The brunette understands immediately. 

Emily’s head lifts from the blonde’s thighs, her fingers slipping out of her simultaneously. She brings the soaked digits to her own lips, sucking off the white cream that had accumulated there, humming at the taste. JJ blushes bright red at the sight, a fuck-drunk smile on her face. The blonde is still floating in the sea of endorphins that Emily had blessed her with. “Come here.” She says, scooting over towards one side of the bed for Emily to lay down next to her.

They had designated their ‘sides’ of the bed years ago, before they’d even started dating. Back when they shared hotel rooms during nearly every case, sometimes there would only be one bed to house both of them. It’s so foreignly familiar, the sensation of the bed dipping to JJ’s left. She’s missed it more than she had realized.

The brunette goes willingly, laying her head on her pillow as JJ cuddles up to her side. The blonde buries her head in the crook of Emily’s neck, breathing in her scent; red wine, cigarette smoke, and a hint of gunpowder. JJ had missed that characteristic amalgamation, too, she notices.

Meanwhile, Emily plays with disheveled locks of blonde hair, overjoyed beyond belief that she finally has her girl back in her arms. She realizes with a start that JJ had been right. 

Emily is hers, just as much as she is Emily’s.

The inherently possessive nature of the words shouldn’t make the brunette as happy as they do. It’s different with them, though. It’s not about ownership, it never has been. It’s a promise; that they are wholeheartedly committed to one another, break-up or no break-up. Even when thousands of miles had separated them, the idea of being with anyone but each other had simply been unfathomable. 

(Something is rotten inside of me,

I have to find it and — cut it out.)

There’s a long silence that settles over them. It’s comfortable, almost familiar — the way that their breathing slowly synchronizes. Emily is still wearing her lacy, dark red bra, along with her cozy black sweatpants. JJ is completely naked, however, and things start to feel a bit uneven. JJ’s head is resting on the brunette’s shoulder, and she decides to break the silence after a while. 

“Can…” She trails off almost as soon as she starts, nerves suddenly swirling within her. Emily hums faintly, prompting her to continue. JJ tilts her head up to make eye contact. She finds that the brunette is already looking down at her, with gentle brown eyes and a quirked eyebrow. “Can I touch you?” JJ asks softly. 

Emily tenses slightly. The blonde knows why — it’s not at all a reflection on the brunette’s feelings for JJ, she knows that. It’s just that, for Emily, sex is… different. She’s had good experiences, sure, but she’s had some really, really bad ones, too. It's not something that the older woman takes lightly, and JJ knows that. She understands.

A couple seconds of silence follow JJ’s words. She doesn’t press, she doesn’t rescind the proposition. The blonde just waits, patiently letting the brunette decide if this is something she wants. JJ knows that Emily knows it’s okay if she says no. They had this conversation pretty early on in their relationship, and the mutual understanding that had followed is something that they both treasure.

“Yeah.” Emily eventually settles on. Her voice is low, but it doesn’t hold a single hint of uncertainty. The brunette is sure — she wants this. 

JJ nods softly in response, scooting higher up the bed. Both of them are on their sides, facing each other. Gazes made up of light blue and deep brown melt somewhere in the middle. The blonde stares at Emily, her hands rising up to cradle the older woman’s face. They let their tender moment of adoration stretch on and on. 

Eventually, JJ lets her hands fall from the brunette’s face, down to the elastic band of her bra. She looks deep into Emily’s eyes, and when she sees a slight nod, she begins pulling the fabric up over the older woman’s head. It's a bit of a struggle, considering they're on their sides, but JJ manages. 

Then Emily’s chest is bare, and JJ just can’t look away. There’s a myriad of scars across the expanse of pale skin. The largest of which is the most recent, where Doyle had staked her. There’s others, too, but the one that JJ can’t take her eyes off of, is the one just below Emily’s right collarbone.

The skin is marred, slightly raised where it had been burned, resembling a four-leaf clover. It’s the tattoo inked atop of the brand that really entrances JJ, though. She’s never seen it before — the black and blue colors having been administered to perfectly depict a bird in flight. 

A blackbird, JJ realizes.

Her fingertips trace one of the outstretched wings, and finally the blonde’s eyes look back up to meet Emily’s. “You got it?” She asks quietly, a tinge of disbelief lining her tone. The brunette nods silently, still neglecting to speak. “When?” 

A distant look appears on Emily’s face, something forlorn materializing in her eyes. “A few days after you left. I…” She looks down, avoiding JJ’s gaze. “When you were gone, I just — I knew, it didn’t matter if we ended up getting back together, or even if we never saw each other again. You…” The brunette looks up again, cradling JJ’s face in her palms with all the care in the world. Emily takes a deep breath, attempting to steady herself. It works — somewhat. “You’re it for me, Jay.” Emily smiles faintly. “I wanted a reminder of you, forever.”

A wide, teeth-baring smile breaks out on the blonde’s face. She surges forward, capturing the other woman's lips. The kiss is desperate, hungry, but there’s something else, too. It feels almost as if their love for each other is being exchanged, finally unleashed; that somehow, after all this time, they’re finally allowing themselves to let go.

Emily arches her back, pushing her chest into the younger woman's. The feeling of their nipples brushing against each other has them both gasping. JJ moves her right hand from the brunette’s face, trailing down to find the waistband of her sweatpants. The younger woman doesn’t try to take them off — she knows Emily doesn’t like being completely bare, regardless of who she may be with.

The blonde slips her hand beneath Emily’s sweats, and cups the older woman’s core over her underwear. There’s a small patch of wetness on the fabric, and JJ smiles into their kiss when she feels it. The brunette speaks softly into the other woman’s lips, her voice breathless. “JJ, come on.”

JJ just nods slightly, more to herself than to Emily. The younger woman slips her hand past the very last barrier, and her fingertips are immediately covered in the brunette’s wetness. Emily lets out a surprised gasp when JJ’s fingers finally graze her clit.

She hides her face in the crook of JJ’s neck, breathing in the scent of the younger woman’s rose-scented shampoo, panting heavily. The arm that Emily isn’t laying on top of wraps itself around the blonde, landing at the small of JJ’s back, desperately pulling her closer.

“Does that feel good?” JJ asks, genuinely seeking an answer. As dominant as Emily is in the bedroom, whenever she’s on the receiving end, she turns into nothing more than a needy pile of limbs. The blonde is always desperate to please, and so even as the brunette begins to grind down upon her fingers, JJ asks again. “Am I doing good?” 

Emily nods enthusiastically into JJ’s neck, still hiding her face in the mess of blonde hair that resides there. The older woman isn’t nearly as vocal as JJ during sex; she usually just lets out little gasps and heavy breaths. The brunette also doesn’t enjoy penetration, and JJ knows that.

Instead, the younger woman focuses on her clit. She alternates periodically between tight circles, then slow strokes side to side, ending with little flicks up and down. Emily is getting close; JJ can tell from the way she feels the brunette’s jaw clenching sporadically. She’s trying to hold out, to make this last longer, the blonde realizes.

Honestly, JJ just wants to make her lover feel good. She doesn’t really care how long she gets to do it for. “Can I make you come? Will you come for me, Emily?” She whispers, speaking softly into the brunette’s hairline.

The older woman nods again, a little less controlled this time. Her hips are bucking up into JJ’s hand, she’s pushing her chest against the blonde’s, and Emily’s arm is still pulling the younger woman as close as physically possible. “What’s it gonna take? What can I do?” JJ asks, her fingers’ movements never ceasing.

Emily finally comes out of hiding, looking into JJ’s eyes. “Kiss me.” She says, a hint of desperation lingering in her voice, though it still comes across as an order. The blonde obeys the command almost immediately, capturing Emily’s lips mere moments after she finishes speaking. The older woman lets out a long exhale into the kiss, just as JJ begins to lick into her mouth. A few seconds later, Emily pulls back. 

Her eyes screw shut, and the brunette’s jaw clenches so tight, it looks almost painful. Her head falls back slightly, and Emily’s hips buck into JJ’s hand uncontrollably. The blonde lets her ride it out, continuing to rub her clit, slowing her pace incrementally. JJ doesn’t move her fingers away, not until Emily’s own hand wraps around her wrist. 

The blonde understands immediately. She pulls her hand out of Emily’s pants, in order to allow her a moment to catch her breath. After a while, the brunette’s eyes flutter open. “That was…”

“Good?” JJ asks, a bit bashfully. She loves making Emily fall apart; the brunette is always so closed off, so restrained and controlled. Getting to see her let go, it feels like an absolute privilege — one that JJ cherishes.

“Amazing.” Emily smiles in response, snuggling further into JJ’s body, until there’s hardly any space between them at all. Legs are tangled together under sheer sheets, arms are wrapped around each other, and it’s perfect.

“I'm glad.” The blonde says honestly. She pauses afterwards, trying to decide her next words. JJ really doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but she needs to get this out. “I…” She sighs, eventually deciding to just bite the bullet. “I really do miss you — us. I don’t… I don’t know what any of this means, you know, long-term, but…” Emily is looking at her so intensely, the brunette’s undivided attention fully focused on JJ. It’s a lot, but the younger woman goes on nonetheless. “I do know that I want to try again, for real.” 

Honestly, it takes a while for the brunette to process the implications of what JJ has just said. She wants to try again, and Emily wants that, too, but the reasons for their break-up haven’t just disappeared. That stupid little day counter app on Emily’s phone — the same one that JJ had forced her to download all those months ago — still hasn’t ever been clicked on. 

“Listen, I…” The brunette starts slowly, and the precarious nature of her voice sets JJ slightly on edge. “I know it wasn’t fair of me to put you through that, and I know how hard it was for you. I … I need you to know that I never wanted you to get hurt. I was just so wrapped up in hurting myself, I couldn’t see what it was doing to you.” Emily sees the tears in JJ’s eyes, but she pushes through the guilt that plagues her. If she lets herself try and comfort the blonde, she’ll never get to say this. “I know I have a lot of work to do, and I’m willing to do all of it. I am, I just…” Emily sighs. The blonde cocks her head slightly, questioning. 

Seeing JJ like this, her eyes twinkling with hope and steadfastly unshed tears, accompanied by the natural beauty of her face… it corrodes Emily’s resolve completely. “I want you by my side. I want to be with you, I want to be worthy of you.” JJ opens her mouth to argue — to try and convince Emily that she’s already perfect in the blonde’s eyes — but the older woman continues speaking before she gets the chance. 

“I know it won’t be easy, I know I’ve hurt you… and myself, but…” Emily is reminded of the first time JJ had seen the self-inflicted scars on her thighs, and her shoulders, and her forearms; all of which had been in various stages of the healing process — line after line of self-hatred permanently etched into the brunette’s skin. Emily blinks back tears of her own as they threaten to fall down her cheeks. “I want to try.” 

The younger woman smiles brightly. She surges forward to kiss Emily, their lips meeting fiercely, locking together in a deep kiss. She doesn’t think any amount of contact will ever be enough; JJ feels overwhelmed by an all too sudden need to crawl inside the brunette’s body — she wants to set up a permanent residence behind Emily’s rib cage, within the chambers of her beating heart.

The blonde is forced to pull away, needing to breathe air back into her lungs. “I want that, too — that’s all I want, Emily.” JJ admits, clinging desperately to her lover’s body.

The brunette can’t help but return the smile. Those same annoying, gnawing sparks of hope within Emily’s chest from earlier become full-blown supernovas now, and this time, she doesn’t fight it. “J'apprendrai. J'apprendrai pour toi, mon soleil.” 

(Cut it out.)