Fic: Bruises and Scars {Criminal Minds - Elle/Emily} 1/?
Title: Bruises and Scars 1/?
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Elle/Emily
Summary: Emily tries to hide her self-harm as work-related injuries, but Elle sees through the charade.
Warnings: Self-harm, small amount of blood, sexual content, aftermath of an assault.
Spoilers: Lauren, S6E18.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. No profit made, no infringement intended.
Bruises and Scars
----
"Has everyone else on the team gotten lazy since I left?" Elle asks as she eyes Emily up and down.
Emily furrows her brow as she frees her arms from the shirt she was wearing.
"You seem to be some sort of one woman crusader these days, always coming home black and blue," Elle continues.
"I just tackled the UnSub and he got in a few good punches before I took him down," Emily says with sigh.
"Again?" Elle queries.
Emily shrugs.
Elle walks to Emily, lightly fingering the bruises on Emily's ribs before bringing her lips to Emily's. The kiss takes the time needed for Emily to remove Elle's shirt and bra, her fingers hungrily gripping Elle's small firm breasts. When they break from the kiss Emily leans down to suck and nip at Elle's nipples, gaining a whine of approval from Elle. Elle fingers make quick work of Emily's pants, her fingers pausing as they brush against the still wet bloody scratches.
Emily responds by undoing Elle's pants and sliding her fingers under the silk panties in one motion. Elle gasps sharply, moaning as Emily dips deeper into her wetness. Elle's back hits the wall as Emily pushes their bodies backward. Emily fucks Elle hard and fast, gradually adding fingers as she slides in and out, breaking to twist frantic circles on her clit. Elle trembles, struggling to stay standing as she approaches orgasm. At last the orgasm comes, deep and shuddering, Elle's muscles contracting tight around Emily's fingers.
"Oh God, Emily, fuck," Elle fights out as she leans panting against Emily.
Emily slowly removes her fingers, tracing lazy wet circles on Elle's stomach as Elle catches her breath. In the moment of stillness after, Elle takes Emily's hand, guiding it to her hip. Emily complies, but gazes at Elle with confusion. Elle presses one of Emily's fingers against the exposed skin, the raised scar now inescapable.
Emily meets Elle's eyes, now sharply focused from their previous dilation.
"Don't lie to me," Elle whispers as she kisses along Emily's neck, a tugging bite along her earlobe.
Emily breathes in sharply, an equal mix of arousal and vulnerability.
"You stopped. I can't. It's how I deal," Emily whispers, her nails gripping Elle's back.
Elle is silent, waiting. She knows Emily has more to say before she can respond.
"I don't cry. I don't let myself think about it. I can't. Please don't ask me to stop," Emily says softly.
"I'm not asking you to stop, Emily. I'm asking you to tell me when you want to, and I'm asking you not to lie to me," Elle replies, her fingers curling into Emily's hair as she holds her close.
"It's private," Emily whispers, a touch of desperation in her voice.
"Not anymore. This is a relationship, Emily. It may not be in sickness and in health, but I'm sure as hell going to be there if you're in pain. Even if you cause it," Elle tells Emily, kissing the bruise on her shoulder.
Safety On and Off
-------
When Elle picks up Emily up from the plane, she notices her rigid back, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her coat.
Elle is taking the go bag from her when Emily leans in, speaking only barely loud enough for Elle to decipher.
"I want to," Emily tells her tightly.
Elle meets Emily's eyes as she hefts the bag onto her shoulder, leaning away from Emily.
"Okay," is all she says in response.
The drive is silent except for the tapping of Emily's foot, and Elle holds her tongue from both annoyance and worry. Emily is in such a daze that they've nearly finished the drive when she looks out the window in confusion.
"This isn't the way to our apartment," Emily says, breaking the silence.
"Nope," Elle replies.
"So are you going to tell me where we're going?" Emily asks, but Elle shows no signs of response, her eyes focused on the road.
Elle parks the car in front of the nondescript brown building, the rusty "Sharpshooter Shooting Range" sign finally answering Emily's question.
Emily gives Elle a questioning look before unbuttoning her seatbelt and opening her door. Both women unholster their weapons and take out their IDs as they near the door. After their credentials and clips have been checked they make their way through the first set of double glass doors. The rituals of earplugs and earmuffs are followed by claiming a booth and clipping up a new target.
Emily and Elle stand side by side, safely clicked off, aimed dead center. Emily shoots first, firing round after round as fast as she can until her clip is empty. Elle fires a moment after, in easy, methodical patterns of three. Emily takes a deep breath after the last round, her breathing shallow as she reloads.
Again, Emily keeps the rapid-fire pace while Elle shoots slow and steady beside her. Emily empties four clips before she allows more than one breath between clips. Into her fifth clip she finds her rhythm, finally allowing her training to kick in. As she finishes her eight clip she finally has found the peaceful calm of the focus and the repetitive movement and sound. By her tenth clip, she finds her arm heavy, her focus draining. After the last round she reloads, clips the safety on, and holsters her Glock.
Emily walks out of the shooting range, barely noticing that Elle follows a short distance behind. Emily walks quickly to the side of the building, dropping to lean over her knees as she sucks in deep breaths. Elle waits in Emily's eye range. At last Emily pulls herself up, looking slightly embarrassed. Elle takes her into her arms, Emily's breathing coming back to normal as she leans against Elle.
"Any better?" Elle asks softly.
Emily nods against her.
Just You and Me
------
Elle is kissing along Emily's hip, the thin cotton bunched under her fingers, when she notices the unusual bruise.
Elle pulls back to examine the four grouped circles mottling Emily's hip, Emily stilling beneath her. Elle's eyes narrow as she makes the connection, her gaze drifting to Emily's bra. She imagines the scar concealed beneath the lace, Emily's switch from plunge and three-quarter to demi and full cup suddenly sharp in her memory.
Wordlessly Elle leans away from Emily to rummage in the drawer of the side table. Emily studiously avoids Elle's eyes until she notices the glint of silver as Elle swings the handcuffs from the drawer. Emily smiles and bites her lip, hoping her teasing will hide the fleeting look of apprehension.
"It's me, Emily," Elle whispers, unlocking the cuffs while straddling Emily's waist. She waits for Emily's small nod before guiding Emily's hands above her head.
"It's Elle," she whispers again, now slowly clicking the cuffs around Emily's wrists and the headboard.
"Just me and you," Elle whispers softly as she kisses along Emily's neck, her fingers still checking the secureness of the cuffs.
Once she's assured that cuffs are locked properly, not too tight nor likely to tighten, Elle allows her fingers to trace down Emily's arms.
A moan escapes Emily's lips as she becomes lost in sensation of Elle's lips upon her ear, nipping and caressing the delicate flesh.
"Em, who are you with?" Elle prompts gently, raising slightly to take in Emily's closed eyes.
"You Elle," Emily rasps out, leaning up to find Elle's lips.
Elle smiles against the kiss, her fingers searching Emily's back for the bra hook.
"Nobody here but me," Elle murmurs as she unclasps the bra, kissing Emily deeply as she slides her fingers under the straps.
"Just Elle fucking Greenaway," Elle says with pride and a smirk as she slides the bra over Emily's head, leaving it resting on the cuffs, drawing a laugh from Emily.
"Just us," Emily murmurs as Elle kisses along her exposed breasts, the scar not giving Elle pause.
"Yep," Elle adds with a smile as she leans up for a moment before kissing a trail down Emily's stomach to curving line of cotton. Elle's breath is hot against Emily's skin as Elle kisses under the cotton.
"Elle," Emily moans as Elle kisses lower, brushing against curls of black.
Elle slides her hands on either side of Emily's hips, dragging the damp cotton down Emily's trembling legs.
"Yes," Elle murmurs, freeing Emily's legs of the cotton, kissing up slowly from ankle to thigh.
"Say my name," she says softly, her voice between a whisper and a growl as she kisses higher on the inner thigh that Emily parts for her.
"Elle, please," Emily moans as Elle kisses devastatingly close to her throbbing heat.
Elle takes mercy, finally swirling her tongue into the centre of the curls. Emily breathes in sharply before succumbing to the hastened breathing that Elle's ministrations demand.
"Elle, oh God, Elle," Emily moans between breaths, rapidly approaching a quivering climax.
Elle darts her tongue inside Emily's depths before resuming a faster pace of circling and sucking.
"Elle, Elle, ELLE," Emily gasps as she crescendos, her hips rising off the bed as her body flexes taut.
Elle's hands massage the muscles Emily releases, her body limp against the bed as Elle kisses up her thighs, rising to meet Emily's gaze.
"Just you and me," Elle says with a smile, curling into Emily's side as her hand goes to unlock the cuffs.
Once freed from the cuffs, Emily wraps her arms around Elle.
"Just us," Emily finishes, the smile lasting the few moments between the time she shuts her eyes and falls asleep.
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Elle/Emily
Summary: Emily tries to hide her self-harm as work-related injuries, but Elle sees through the charade.
Warnings: Self-harm, small amount of blood, sexual content, aftermath of an assault.
Spoilers: Lauren, S6E18.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. No profit made, no infringement intended.
Bruises and Scars
----
"Has everyone else on the team gotten lazy since I left?" Elle asks as she eyes Emily up and down.
Emily furrows her brow as she frees her arms from the shirt she was wearing.
"You seem to be some sort of one woman crusader these days, always coming home black and blue," Elle continues.
"I just tackled the UnSub and he got in a few good punches before I took him down," Emily says with sigh.
"Again?" Elle queries.
Emily shrugs.
Elle walks to Emily, lightly fingering the bruises on Emily's ribs before bringing her lips to Emily's. The kiss takes the time needed for Emily to remove Elle's shirt and bra, her fingers hungrily gripping Elle's small firm breasts. When they break from the kiss Emily leans down to suck and nip at Elle's nipples, gaining a whine of approval from Elle. Elle fingers make quick work of Emily's pants, her fingers pausing as they brush against the still wet bloody scratches.
Emily responds by undoing Elle's pants and sliding her fingers under the silk panties in one motion. Elle gasps sharply, moaning as Emily dips deeper into her wetness. Elle's back hits the wall as Emily pushes their bodies backward. Emily fucks Elle hard and fast, gradually adding fingers as she slides in and out, breaking to twist frantic circles on her clit. Elle trembles, struggling to stay standing as she approaches orgasm. At last the orgasm comes, deep and shuddering, Elle's muscles contracting tight around Emily's fingers.
"Oh God, Emily, fuck," Elle fights out as she leans panting against Emily.
Emily slowly removes her fingers, tracing lazy wet circles on Elle's stomach as Elle catches her breath. In the moment of stillness after, Elle takes Emily's hand, guiding it to her hip. Emily complies, but gazes at Elle with confusion. Elle presses one of Emily's fingers against the exposed skin, the raised scar now inescapable.
Emily meets Elle's eyes, now sharply focused from their previous dilation.
"Don't lie to me," Elle whispers as she kisses along Emily's neck, a tugging bite along her earlobe.
Emily breathes in sharply, an equal mix of arousal and vulnerability.
"You stopped. I can't. It's how I deal," Emily whispers, her nails gripping Elle's back.
Elle is silent, waiting. She knows Emily has more to say before she can respond.
"I don't cry. I don't let myself think about it. I can't. Please don't ask me to stop," Emily says softly.
"I'm not asking you to stop, Emily. I'm asking you to tell me when you want to, and I'm asking you not to lie to me," Elle replies, her fingers curling into Emily's hair as she holds her close.
"It's private," Emily whispers, a touch of desperation in her voice.
"Not anymore. This is a relationship, Emily. It may not be in sickness and in health, but I'm sure as hell going to be there if you're in pain. Even if you cause it," Elle tells Emily, kissing the bruise on her shoulder.
Safety On and Off
-------
When Elle picks up Emily up from the plane, she notices her rigid back, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her coat.
Elle is taking the go bag from her when Emily leans in, speaking only barely loud enough for Elle to decipher.
"I want to," Emily tells her tightly.
Elle meets Emily's eyes as she hefts the bag onto her shoulder, leaning away from Emily.
"Okay," is all she says in response.
The drive is silent except for the tapping of Emily's foot, and Elle holds her tongue from both annoyance and worry. Emily is in such a daze that they've nearly finished the drive when she looks out the window in confusion.
"This isn't the way to our apartment," Emily says, breaking the silence.
"Nope," Elle replies.
"So are you going to tell me where we're going?" Emily asks, but Elle shows no signs of response, her eyes focused on the road.
Elle parks the car in front of the nondescript brown building, the rusty "Sharpshooter Shooting Range" sign finally answering Emily's question.
Emily gives Elle a questioning look before unbuttoning her seatbelt and opening her door. Both women unholster their weapons and take out their IDs as they near the door. After their credentials and clips have been checked they make their way through the first set of double glass doors. The rituals of earplugs and earmuffs are followed by claiming a booth and clipping up a new target.
Emily and Elle stand side by side, safely clicked off, aimed dead center. Emily shoots first, firing round after round as fast as she can until her clip is empty. Elle fires a moment after, in easy, methodical patterns of three. Emily takes a deep breath after the last round, her breathing shallow as she reloads.
Again, Emily keeps the rapid-fire pace while Elle shoots slow and steady beside her. Emily empties four clips before she allows more than one breath between clips. Into her fifth clip she finds her rhythm, finally allowing her training to kick in. As she finishes her eight clip she finally has found the peaceful calm of the focus and the repetitive movement and sound. By her tenth clip, she finds her arm heavy, her focus draining. After the last round she reloads, clips the safety on, and holsters her Glock.
Emily walks out of the shooting range, barely noticing that Elle follows a short distance behind. Emily walks quickly to the side of the building, dropping to lean over her knees as she sucks in deep breaths. Elle waits in Emily's eye range. At last Emily pulls herself up, looking slightly embarrassed. Elle takes her into her arms, Emily's breathing coming back to normal as she leans against Elle.
"Any better?" Elle asks softly.
Emily nods against her.
Just You and Me
------
Elle is kissing along Emily's hip, the thin cotton bunched under her fingers, when she notices the unusual bruise.
Elle pulls back to examine the four grouped circles mottling Emily's hip, Emily stilling beneath her. Elle's eyes narrow as she makes the connection, her gaze drifting to Emily's bra. She imagines the scar concealed beneath the lace, Emily's switch from plunge and three-quarter to demi and full cup suddenly sharp in her memory.
Wordlessly Elle leans away from Emily to rummage in the drawer of the side table. Emily studiously avoids Elle's eyes until she notices the glint of silver as Elle swings the handcuffs from the drawer. Emily smiles and bites her lip, hoping her teasing will hide the fleeting look of apprehension.
"It's me, Emily," Elle whispers, unlocking the cuffs while straddling Emily's waist. She waits for Emily's small nod before guiding Emily's hands above her head.
"It's Elle," she whispers again, now slowly clicking the cuffs around Emily's wrists and the headboard.
"Just me and you," Elle whispers softly as she kisses along Emily's neck, her fingers still checking the secureness of the cuffs.
Once she's assured that cuffs are locked properly, not too tight nor likely to tighten, Elle allows her fingers to trace down Emily's arms.
A moan escapes Emily's lips as she becomes lost in sensation of Elle's lips upon her ear, nipping and caressing the delicate flesh.
"Em, who are you with?" Elle prompts gently, raising slightly to take in Emily's closed eyes.
"You Elle," Emily rasps out, leaning up to find Elle's lips.
Elle smiles against the kiss, her fingers searching Emily's back for the bra hook.
"Nobody here but me," Elle murmurs as she unclasps the bra, kissing Emily deeply as she slides her fingers under the straps.
"Just Elle fucking Greenaway," Elle says with pride and a smirk as she slides the bra over Emily's head, leaving it resting on the cuffs, drawing a laugh from Emily.
"Just us," Emily murmurs as Elle kisses along her exposed breasts, the scar not giving Elle pause.
"Yep," Elle adds with a smile as she leans up for a moment before kissing a trail down Emily's stomach to curving line of cotton. Elle's breath is hot against Emily's skin as Elle kisses under the cotton.
"Elle," Emily moans as Elle kisses lower, brushing against curls of black.
Elle slides her hands on either side of Emily's hips, dragging the damp cotton down Emily's trembling legs.
"Yes," Elle murmurs, freeing Emily's legs of the cotton, kissing up slowly from ankle to thigh.
"Say my name," she says softly, her voice between a whisper and a growl as she kisses higher on the inner thigh that Emily parts for her.
"Elle, please," Emily moans as Elle kisses devastatingly close to her throbbing heat.
Elle takes mercy, finally swirling her tongue into the centre of the curls. Emily breathes in sharply before succumbing to the hastened breathing that Elle's ministrations demand.
"Elle, oh God, Elle," Emily moans between breaths, rapidly approaching a quivering climax.
Elle darts her tongue inside Emily's depths before resuming a faster pace of circling and sucking.
"Elle, Elle, ELLE," Emily gasps as she crescendos, her hips rising off the bed as her body flexes taut.
Elle's hands massage the muscles Emily releases, her body limp against the bed as Elle kisses up her thighs, rising to meet Emily's gaze.
"Just you and me," Elle says with a smile, curling into Emily's side as her hand goes to unlock the cuffs.
Once freed from the cuffs, Emily wraps her arms around Elle.
"Just us," Emily finishes, the smile lasting the few moments between the time she shuts her eyes and falls asleep.