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#lick click explination
beware-of-you-98 · 3 years
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Hey I saw your prompt list thing and almost died, could you write something one day about prompt 3, Emily reassuring jj. I didn’t realise how much I needed that in my life until I saw that.
“You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.”
tw: mentions of ptsd, anxiety, violence
It happens in a matter of seconds.
One moment, Emily has her head on JJ’s lap, content with the warmth she provides and how easily her fingers glides through her hair. Dull nails lightly scrap against her scalp and she leans further into the feeling. The lamp on the table beside them gives off a muted golden glow, making even the room feel warm even if both of them are in sweaters and sweatpants.
The next, the room goes black from a sudden and spontaneous power outage.
Emily’s eyes fly open and look up, not because of the sudden loss of light, but because of the soft, surprised gasp that escapes the blonde’s lips. Her fingers still in place, her body rigid and tense from her nerves. Her eyes are glazed, wide with panic as they dart frantically around the room.
The brunette sits herself upright beside her wife immediately, forcing herself to keep her hands at her side—she knows better than to reach out for JJ without consent (it always does more harm than good, so she stays put even if it pains her to do so). “JJ?”
Blue eyes dart quickly around the room, a sliver of pink tongue darts from her mouth to wet her lips as her heart beats increase. Her chest is starting to rise and fall rapidly, her body is already wracking with horrible tremors and she can’t find herself focusing on anything but the smell of mildew and gunpowder, blood and sweat. She squeezes her eyes shut, placing her hands firmly over her eara because all she can fucking hear is the grunt of pain that comes from her friend every time their captor finds some new way to torture him...
“JJ, can I touch you?”
Emily’s voice is muffled by the noises JJ knows, knows, aren’t there but she can hear them so vividly: the clanking of chains, the clamboring of boots against a concrete floor, water dripping, the strong, crackled zap of electricity as it shoots out between the two metal rods crudely attached to the car battery. The realistic memories are so real they throw any sense of rationality she has out the fucking window.
And her body, god, her body hurts. Her side spazms (whether it’s voluntary or not, she can’t focus enough to tell), the skin feels hot and... Her stomach coils harshly as she gags— god she can swear she smells her own flesh burning.
Her breathing hiccups, her throat constricts painfully as tears squeeze from her eyes. Through the haze, she just barely hears Emily repeat her question and gives a single, jerky nod. Her hands clasp tightly into the older woman’s, the soft clicking of their wedding bands hitting together offering her some semblance of balance, something that tethers her to reality. Emily’s thumb rubs slow, soft moving circles on the backs of her hands, distracting her from the awful memories. “What can I do to help?”
It takes a lot of effort for JJ to swallow, and even so, it hurts like she’s trying to get down a ball of lead from her throat. She opens and closes her mouth, unsure of how to respond, can’t even think clearly enough to form a rational response. Her eyes squeeze shut once more, a soft, scared whimper crawling its way from her chest. “It hurts,” she croaks through tears as if it’s enough to encompass everything she’s feeling. Her tone is clipped and sharp, laced heavily with the frustration she feels at herself, at being unable to decipher what’s real and what’s all just in her head.
Emily’s fingers squeeze her own firmly. “I know,” she whispers soothingly. “I know.”
JJ nods numbly, stiffly. The validation makes her relax ever so slightly and makes her feel less insane. She forces herself to focus on Emily, on every part of her (her voice, her proximity, the feeling of her breath just ghosting over her cheek, her scent), and slowly the memories feel less intense.
She leans tiredly into the older woman’s frame, using her steady heartbeats to count with in her own head.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and repeat.
Slowly, her breaths start to sync up to the rhythm and she’s left trembling in her wife’s arms.
Emily’s warmth is a jarring contrast from the cold visions, her body soft and gentle, so unlike the hard concrete ground and oh-so-real echoed pains of her past torments. “Where are you?”
A thick, hard swallow echoes into the room as JJ’s breath hitches. “Home,” she timidly responds, the end of her voice rising as if she’s unsure. The more rational part of her mind screams at her— where else would she be?
But everything feels so real. If she weren’t pressed up against the older woman, she swears the room feels cold, that she’s back in that warehouse hanging from rusted metal chains that dig into her wrist.
“That’s right,” Emily confirms gently. “You’re in DC in our home,” she clarifies just as softly.
“You’re real?” It comes out so soft, so timidly that she barely hears it. But JJ’s looking at her warily, as if she’s unsure of even that.
There’s a gentle pressure on the blonde’s wrist as the brunette moves her hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’m real. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
The room is silent for a brief moment, JJ’s shaking, steadying breaths filling the room with some noise. Her nails dig into the back of Emily’s hands as she stuffs her head firmly into the crook of her neck in attempts to control the tremors that wrack her small body. “Sing to me?” she finally croaks.
The older woman barely reacts to the request, moving her hand to stroke through long strands of blonde. She nudges her wife’s head with the side of her nose, her lips brushing against her forehead softly as she softly starts to sing. She wants to give JJ as many points of contact as possible, if only to reassure her that she’s real and that she’s not in danger. “Blackbird singing in the dead of night. Take these broken wings and learn how to fly...”
Emily’s voice is soft and light, soothing JJ’s nerves significantly, especially at the choice of song. No one else but her wife would have picked that song. It reminds her what’s real, tethers her back to reality. The brunette’s chest rumbles steadily from her voice below the blonde’s cheek and she nuzzles further into it. Each passing verse Emily sings makes JJ feel lighter, safer.
(Tired, she adds to herself, eyelids feeling heavy. It’s been a while since she’s had an attack this bad.)
She blinks harshly when Emily sings the last line of the song, accurately aware of the sharp, cool breeze that blows across her body. Her head lifts and she blinks again in confusion when she accesses her surroundings: the cool grass tickles her ankles, the sounds of cicadas and crickets rings out and the moon shines brightly above them, casting them in a cool blue glow.
The older woman presses a lingering kiss to her wife’s temple. “I didn’t want you to feel like you were trapped,” is the quiet explination she offers and JJ accepts it with a simple nod. She crawls from the brunette’s lap and lays her head up on her thighs, staring up at the stars. Her heart rate is practically back to normal, and while her hands still tremble, she feels relaxed as Emily begins to run her fingers once more though her hair once more.
“There’s Orion,” she murmurs softly, her own line of sight up at the night sky littered in stars. She lifts a hand from JJ’s hair to point in the direction of the constellation.
The blonde hums softly, eyes following her wife’s finger before they dart off to the side. She licks her lips, pointing slightly off to the side of the brightest star in the sky. ”Big Dipper,” she murmurs before chewing her bottom lip in between her teeth.
Her eyes burn with tears, stomach coiling with guilt. Emily didn’t ask for this— she shouldn’t have had to deal with anxiety and panic attacks that weren’t her own. JJ knows it’s just as draining on her as it is on herself. She feels awful. She had ruined one of the few nights they had off all over a power outage. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t do that,” Emily chides softy, returning both her hands to her wife’s hair. “Don’t do that to yourself. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
JJ sniffs harshly, shaking her head once. “I do,” she insists on a broken whisper. “I just— I don’t...”
She’s cut off by one of the softest kisses Emily has ever given her, gently cupping her face between her palms. The blonde shivers at the contact, tears spilling at the overwhelming feeling of love she feels pouring out of her wife at the gesture. A soft sob leaves her mouth and Emily’s thumb gently strokes her cheek, pressing their foreheads together firmly.
“Don’t ever apologize for something that’s out of your control,” the brunette murmurs soothingly.
“I ruined the night,” JJ croaks timidly.
Emily’s eyes meet her’s, their fingers tangling together naturally. “You could never.” She presses a tender kiss to her cheek. “I rather you be okay over anything. That’s what matters to me. Your safety and well-being matters to me.”
The blonde’s breath shudders out as their palms press flush together. “I’ve got you,” Emily murmurs genuinely. “Through sickness and in health. I will walk beside you through whatever our lives may bring,” she recites with a soft smile, brushing the few tears from her wife’s face.
JJ’s shoulders slump at her wife’s words, her own hand coming up to curl at the hair at the base of the brunette’s neck. “I love you,” she murmurs thickly. “I love you so much.”
Their kiss is soft, but full of so much love and passion it makes them both dizzy. Emily gently grips her wife’s hip, propping herself up on her elbow in the grass. It feels so much like their kiss that sealed together their union, full of the promise of forever.
“Can we stay out here?” JJ asks through kisses, pulling back to press a few along Emily’s jawline, so unwilling to pull her mouth away from her wife but her need for oxygen becoming to much to ignore. She really doesn’t care what they do for the rest of the night— all she wants to do is spend it in the arms of the love of her life. But spending that time cuddled in the grass of their backyard while staring up at the stars sounded too perfect.
Emily presses a small kiss to her nose. “Anything for you.”
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