thinking about luke holding newborn baby garvez while penelope naps...... and he's bouncing the baby back and forth and humming in their living room, trying to be quiet so penelope can get some uninterrupted sleep for the first time in a week
Sorry for the delay on this one, was waiting until inspiration struck and it did this evening :)
Prompt from this list, and I am still taking them if anyone wants to submit one!
Angst 23: When did you stop loving me?
Paring: Hotchniss
Words: 650
Warnings: None
He’s too smart to not realise something is wrong. Emily had always loved Aaron’s intelligence, and he knew it was reciprocated. Unlike a lot of her past relationships he revered how smart she was, enjoyed their conversations that lasted into the small hours of the morning, tangled together in her bed.
Emily thinks she should have realised something was going to happen, that the universe would intervene and take away the happiness it had never really afforded her before.
She never could have predicted it would be the return of Ian Doyle.
She had started to pull back from Aaron the moment Sean Macallister had called her. Her need to protect him overriding anything else. She canceled dates, left in the middle of the night if he had somehow convinced her to stay. She started to smile in response when he told her that he loved her, instead of easily saying the words back like she always had.
He knew something was wrong. He was a profiler after all and knew her well, probably better than anyone ever could. She thinks of nights when they shared secrets, the things in Rome and in his childhood home that had forged them, and they make her ache for him.
He finds her in her apartment, his concern twisted into anger as he watches her pack a bag, having let himself in with the key she had given him.
They fight, both of them saying things they don’t mean. Fuelled by fear that only she really understands. They come to a standstill, the air thick with accusations and harsh words she wishes she could take back.
“You should go.” She says, averting her eyes from him, thinking he could read her mind if he stared at her long enough.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on, Emily.”
She exhales a breath in frustration. “I’m not telling you anything. And you can’t stand there forever.”
There’s a silence that is a beat too long, and for a moment she thinks she has won.
“When did you stop loving me?” He asks, his words bitter. He moves to walk away. He turns his back to her, and fear lances through her chest. The idea of losing him, of losing them, somehow worse than what Doyle’s reappearance had awakened in her.
Emily thinks that there was some sick irony in the fact that she only realised just how much she loved him in the exact moment that she knew she would lose him.
“That’s the problem, Aaron.” She says quietly, and she knows he has heard her when he freezes in place. “I love you so much I don’t think I could ever stop.”
Aaron turns to look at her, his hand slipping from the door handle. He takes a step towards her, a stern look on his face.
“What is going on, Emily?” He closes the gap between them, places his hand on her cheek and he ignores the way it makes her flinch. “This isn’t like you.”
She bites her lip to try and keep her emotion in, the force of it making her chin wobble. She places her hand over his on her cheek and links their fingers. She sees all of her options laid out in front of her, and none of them are good. She can run by herself, leave Aaron in the wreckage of their relationship or she can take him down with her.
“Em, sweetheart.”
She almost makes a decision, thinks she would rather he hated her than anything else, but then he traces her top lip with his thumb so delicately, more affection in that moment than anyone had ever shown her before.
“Whatever it is, I can help.”
The words leave her, unbidden before she can stop them.
“I’m in trouble.”
She can’t help but think she has signed both of their death warrants.
bestie idk how we did it…thank you to every single one of you for following me. thank you for dealing with my ramblings and supporting my gifs and fics! i appreciate you all💜
i’ll be tagging everything with #kt’s follower celebration.
⭐️ - cast criminal minds characters as…
🪐 - fmk, would you rather, top 5, cyma.
🌤 - send me a character/ship and i’ll give you a headcanon of mine.
⚡️ - send me a character/ship and i’ll rate them.
🌘 - send me one of your cm/ncis opinions and i’ll agree/disagree
💛 - i’ll send you a song i love
and to thank you all for everything i’ve created a list of 50 prompts and i’m going to be accepting requests😁
✨ find the prompts here
i’ll be writing: emily prentiss, alex blake, tara lewis, and elle greenaway x reader, and also temily.
you can include multiple prompts.
angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc. if you have a preference pls specify. no smut.
fem!reader and gn!reader. if you have a preference again pls specify.
request by sending me an ask. (it’s the easiest way for me to keep track of them all and make sure i don’t forget one!)
example: “prompt 20 & 33 for alex blake x fem!reader. angst!”
Prompt; Platonic Derek Morgan / Emily Prentiss - Sharing clothing
Warnings; some angst
“I want her buried with it” Derek’s voice was deliberately calm. Forced to hide the tremble that was shaking his shoulders, cricking his neck.
“Derek…” JJ started.
“Please. JJ” He pushed the bundle into her arms and turned, walking away without another word. JJ watched his shadow, cast long across the halls of the empty bullpen, unusually silent and still.
JJ ran her fingers across the soft fabric, tugging the sleeve of the red hoodie as she let the memories of it wash over her.
Emily won it in a poker game. Derek put his clothes on the line in the back of the jet, betting his favourite hoodie on a pair of threes. Emily beat him with a huge grin and a straight flush, disappearing inside the hoodie with a smirk as he complained about her skills. Even Spencer wouldn’t play her after that.
It was kept on the jet, pushed plush and soft in the small closet they kept the blankets in. Emily slept in it, the only time she fell asleep on the jet was buried in the swath of red, sleeved bunched around her wrists as she rested her head on the window, her nose brushing the hood of the fabric, imagining that some semblance of Derek’s scent remained.
JJ gave it to her on the plane. She watched as Emily’s eyes filled, her knuckles tight on the worn thread as she nodded, once. They flew in silence for the remainder of the ride, her eyes straying to pick at strings, watching it unravel, the metaphor for her life.
Emily wore it every day. She didn’t recognise her name, her body scarred in ways she could only trace in wonder, starbursts across her skin that were raised like type. She kept running her fingers across her skin, as though they would form words, answers as to what she was supposed to do, the living dead girl, a ghost on the streets of the worlds most romantic city.
She sat in her window. Wearing Derek’s hoodie. Reading Spencer’s favourite book. She made notes in the margins with a pen she had stolen from Penelope. Eating Cheetos and drinking Dave’s favourite scotch. Aaron had never given her enough pieces of himself, so instead she recited their names like prayers, whispered into sheets Emily would never buy, just to remember what they tasted like on her tongue.
It was lonely. Horrifically lonely as she punished herself by remembering every piece of them together, the knit fabric of his favourite red hoodie running through her fingers. The family she had woven, like so many threads, pulled apart and ruined by her lies. She knew the loose spools of thread were laying, dormant and ruined for her return.
When she came back she felt frayed. As though she had been picked loose and left, discarded like so many other favourites, left in the bottom of a drawer.
Spencer was the hardest. He was frayed and ragged, shaky on his feet as he tried to pull them back together. Something old, something that no longer fit. But when she caught him in the moment he was ready for it, he still fit in her arms, birdlike and spindly beneath her shaking hands as he held her, whispered he was happy she was home.
Aaron had stroked her knuckles on the jet, an awkward mumble beneath his sharper jaw about how glad he was she was home. Dave had kissed her cheeks red. Penelope had cried until she couldn’t breathe.
Derek kept his distance. She could see it in his eyes, the flash of her own blood running through his fingers each time he looked at her, the living dead girl. She didn’t know what to do but throw herself onto his mercy, flay herself living for his forgiveness.
Takedown recertification, his request was gentle and she could taste the fear in the syllables. How much he did not want to lose her. She showed up at the gym early, her limbs twitching as she realised it was her first moments alone with him since her return.
She watched his eyes fill when he saw her, the concrete in his limbs as he took in her form.
He slipped his arms inside the hoodie to wrap around her waist, pull her into his firm chest as she felt her whole body relax for the first time in nearly a year. He was touching her, warm and alive beneath his palms as the last words they spoke when they were alone was a plea to let her go.
“I’m sorry” She said finally, her voice choked and heavy as he stroked the hood still around her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
He shushed her, pressing his love into her forehead through trembling lips.
“Welcome home princess” he said softly, tugging the threads between his fingers.
i wish we saw the bau in vegas when spencer made them stay an extra night. they show spencer in his hotel room furiously researching the case & then it cuts to emily in the back of a casino getting a tattoo as jj is like “emily, okay you know i support you but”-
if anything happens to her, i will destroy you. @eprcntiss - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
