Final Chapter Is Out!

do u write criminal minds mlm??

Depends! Which pairing? And what type (eg. fluff, smut or hurt/comfort)? 🙂

I may not write smut for MLM, but I’m happy to write fluff or some sexy flirting or some hurt/comfort!

Let me know! Don’t forget my messages are always open to followers and non-followers! ☺️

IF U STILL WRITE FOR JENNIFER JAREAU PLS MAY I REQUEST ONE BASED ON THR CLAIRO (i think? SONG WHERE IT GOES she’s so prettyyy when she goes down on me

I hope you like it! If there’s anything else you’d like or something changed, perhaps I can make it into a 2 chapter piece! Let me know!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62033248

Can you write some Emily x reader sickfic

one with Emily sick and then one with reader sick

one of them ends up in the hospital in one of them

lots of cuddles and forehead kisses maybe even a nice bath(with soft slow orgasm)

Sorry for the late response!

In Sickness and In Health…

Summary: Emily gets sick first, and then, when her girlfriend gets sick too, Emily coaxes her back to health.

Emily Prentiss wasn’t one to go down easily, but when she did, it hit like a freight train. Fever, chills, body aches that made even sitting up feel like a mountain climb. And somehow, her girlfriend Y/N managed to look completely unbothered by the whirlwind she’d stepped into… calm, steady, warm.

“Water,” Emily croaked from beneath a pile of blankets on the couch, and without a word, Y/N was handing her a glass, kneeling beside her with that small, reassuring smile.

“You’re burning up. Drink this, then I’m putting on Sense and Sensibility. You’re due for some emotional regulation,” Y/N teased softly, brushing sweat-damp strands away from Emily’s forehead.

For two days, Y/N became everything Emily didn’t know she needed: soft socks, forehead kisses, cold compresses, soup just the way Emily liked it, blended smooth with way too much pepper. Her favourite tea brewed just right. A heated blanket warmed in the dryer before being wrapped around her. When Emily shivered, Y/N curled up behind her, letting her body heat soothe where words couldn’t reach.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered, every hour, without fail.

And slowly, Emily did get better. But Y/N… didn’t.

Emily knew something was wrong when she woke up to the sound of retching and the unmistakable thud of someone hitting the floor.

“Y/N?” she called, heart racing.

No answer. She threw off the covers and stumbled into the bathroom.

Y/N was collapsed on the cold tile floor, curled in on herself, her skin pale and slick with sweat, breath hitching in shallow, panicked gulps. Her lips were dry and cracked, and her hands trembled uncontrollably.

“Baby… hey, hey,” Emily dropped to her knees beside her, gently turning her over. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused. Her voice was barely a rasp.

“You were cold,” she mumbled, confused. “You were so cold—I… I couldn’t find the blankets—” Her body shook violently.

Emily didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her arms around her, holding her steady. “Shhh. You’re burning up, sweetheart. We’re going to the hospital. Stay with me.”

The paramedics came fast. Y/N was too weak to sit up on her own, barely coherent by the time they got her onto the stretcher. Emily held her hand in the ambulance, whispering soft reassurances as machines beeped around them.

At the hospital, Emily stood beside the bed in her sweatpants and hoodie, jaw clenched as the nurses hooked Y/N up to IV fluids and cooling blankets. Her fever had spiked to 40°C, her body drenched in sweat and trembling under the weight of it. Her lips moved now and then, soft murmurs that didn’t make sense, childhood memories, Emily’s name, something about fig trees.

“Is she going to be okay?” Emily asked one of the doctors.

The answer was kind, but cautious. “She’s young and healthy, so we’re optimistic. It’s a nasty viral infection. The fever’s just doing a number on her system. But we’ve got her now.”

Emily didn’t leave the room. She sat on the little reclining chair, feet tucked under her, never taking her eyes off Y/N. She held her hand through the delirium, murmured stories about old cases, about Italy, about their first kiss in the rain outside a jazz bar. She wiped down her forehead every hour and kissed her knuckles when no one was looking.

And when Y/N’s eyes finally focused on her, truly saw her, Emily smiled for the first time in days.

“You came back to me,” she whispered, and Y/N blinked, confused but comforted.

“Where else would I go?”

- - -

The Slow Return to Softness

It had been a week since Y/N came home. She was stronger now, colour back in her cheeks, voice steadier, even if she still got tired walking from the bedroom to the kitchen. Emily didn’t let her lift a finger.

When Y/N asked for a bath, Emily lit candles. Dimmed the lights. Eucalyptus oil in the water, lavender soap on the edge. She helped her undress with slow hands and gentle eyes, not like she was stripping her down, but like she was unwrapping something precious.

She stepped into the tub first and guided Y/N between her legs, letting her lean back against her chest. Emily wrapped her arms around her waist, warm water rippling up over their skin, steam rising around them like a cocoon.

Y/N let out a long, deep sigh. “You make everything better,” she whispered.

Emily pressed a kiss behind her ear. “That’s the plan.”

Silence stretched between them, soft and easy. Then Y/N tilted her head back just slightly, her voice low and hesitant.

“Can I ask for one more thing?”

“Always.”

“I want to… feel good. With you. Nothing fast. Just… soft. Like I’m still here. Still real.”

Emily’s hands tightened gently around her middle. “Okay,” she breathed.

One hand stayed splayed across Y/N’s stomach, the other slid lower, fingers gliding through the warm water, slow and reverent. She didn’t rush. She just touched, gently, rhythmically, as Y/N melted into her, every part of her body relaxing into safety, into closeness.

“You’re okay,” Emily whispered against her neck. “You’re so safe. Let go.”

Y/N whimpered, breath catching, body trembling, not from fever this time, but from the slow, rising tide that Emily coaxed from her with nothing but love. Her head dropped back onto Emily’s shoulder as she came, quiet and soft, a little broken sob of relief leaving her lips.

Emily kissed her temple, her jaw, her cheek. Held her through the aftershocks. Didn’t move a muscle as the water stilled around them.

They stayed like that long after, Emily gently washing Y/N’s skin, arms wrapped around her, soft hums low in her throat, like a lullaby for the woman she adored.

oh thank you thank you thank you

it's exactly what i needed

much love to you and your family

(penelopexreader anon requester)

I’m glad you enjoyed it! Let me know if you’d ever want to see another one!!

ok so i kind of want you to write a fic with a fart kink

something with BAU female farting in gn readers face while they sniff it please

Sorry to say, that’d be the kind of kink I’d say no to. Sorry! That’d be one of the stories I couldn’t write. But thank you for your request, and I’m sorry I couldn’t fulfil it! 🙂

Super sorry!

reader is Emily's childhood friend/crush and they run into each other while she's on a case

they catch up after the case and reader spills that they had the biggest crush on em when they were younger

emily admits the same

they enjoyed their time together

plans for meeting up again

fast forward to someone asking someone to officially be their gf

kiss

yaaaaaaaaay

Long Time, No See

Enjoy!

The case had been long, gruelling, bloody and deeply personal. Emily was exhausted, her blazer slung over her shoulder and the tension in her shoulders refusing to let go.

When the team split off for the night, Emily slipped into a bar she hadn't been in for years, a dim, cozy, little place tucked between old buildings, where the whiskey was neat and the music always good.

She was halfway through her drink when she heard the name. "Emily Prentiss?" Her head turned slowly. And her heart stuttered.

They hadn't aged much, tall, still lean and a little broad through the chest, with black ink curling up their throat and arms. Y/N Y/L/N. The Y/N Y/L/N.

Emily's first real crush, her childhood best friend turned teenage enigma, gone before they could finish whatever spark had always hovered between them.

"Y/N?" Emily stood, stunned, "No... fucking way." They grinned wide, a little stunned themselves, their whiskey glass already sweating in their tattooed hand.

"I was gonna say something earlier but... god, you got hotter."

Emily laughed, breathless, "Still don't have a filter, I see."

"I'd apologise, but..." Y/N shrugged, "I always did have a thing for you."

Emily blinked, surprised but oddly warm, “You… what?!” Y/N leaned in slightly, tipsy but honest, voice low and velvet, “Yeah, Em… I had the biggest damn crush on you. Back when you wore ripped jeans and threatened to fight anyone who bullied me.”

Emily blinked, surprised but oddly warm. “You… what?”

Rox leaned in slightly, tipsy but honest, voice low and velvet. “Yeah, Em. I had the biggest damn crush on you. Back when you wore ripped jeans and threatened to fight anyone who bullied me.”

Emily's cheeks flushed. Her mouth opened, then closed, and then, quietly, she said, "I had a crush on you too. Thought I was subtle."

"You weren't," Y/N said, grinning, "I was just too scared to say anything." A silence fell between them, one of those rare ones, comfortable, suspended.

And then Emily took a chance, brushing her fingers over Y/N's hand. "Want to have a drink with me?" Emily questioned, Y/N grinned against, brighter, "Thought you'd never ask."

- - -

Weeks turned into months...

Drinks became dinners. Dinners became nights in, lazy mornings, bodies tangled in rumpled sheets and laughter under dim lights. Y/N was magnetic in a way that grounded Emily, direct, but soft.

They moved slow at first, talking about everything they'd missed. Y/N had built a career tattooing in DC, mostly queer clients, their arms now a living sketchbook.

Emily shared just enough of the BAU.

They flirted shamelessly. And then, there were nights they didn't sleep.

- - -

Present day...

It had rained all day, and the windows steamed. The lights were low, music barely a murmur. Y/N was in Emily's kitchen, shirtless in loose sweats, hair damp from the shower.

Emily came up behind them, arms snaking around their waist. Y/N smiled and leaned into her, "You okay?" Emily nodded, nuzzling her forehead into Y/N's shoulder, "Mmm... just thinking."

"Dangerous..." Y/N teased. Emily bit her lip, then, nervous, but sure, she whispered, "Be my partner." Y/N turned, their brows lifted, eyes wide, "You serious?"

Emily nodded, breath hitching, "I want you... all the way. Not just the sex, the beautiful mind boggling sex, not just the weekends. I want to say I'm yours... I want to know you're mine."

Y/N's answer was a kiss, deep, hot, hungry. Emily backed into the counter, gasping as Y/N kissed her like it was the first time. Clothes fell quickly, Y/N lifting Emily onto the kitchen counter, her legs around their waist.

Their mouths didn't part. Y/N kissed her until her head dropped back, breathless, whispering her name like it was holy. Bedroom, then bed, as usual. Y/N between Emily's thighs, worshipping her body.

Emily's fingers curled in their hair, guiding them, trembling under every touch, breath, and every desperate, quiet moan. They were slow at first, savouring. Y/N coaxing every delicious sound from her.

Emily whimpered Y/N's name over and over.

Then they flipped her gently, their chest pressed against her back. Y/N's mouth brushed Emily's neck, teeth grazing her delicate skin, "Mine?"

"Yours," the Chief whispered, desperate, legs shaking.

They took their time, rocking together, breath syncing in moans and curses. Emily cried out when Y/N's hand slid down her belly and lower, coaxing her over the edge again. And again.

She pulled them down afterward, sweaty and flushed, kissing them hard and messy and open-mouthed.

“I love you,” the Chief murmured, dizzy and spent, fingers brushing Y/N's jaw.

Y/N's smile was like sunrise. “Took you long enough.”

This might be a stupid question but how do you DM somebody on Tumblr??

It’s under the activity button, so if you hit the activity button and then look to the top of your screen, there should be a little button for Messages! There should be a little blue button in the bottom right hand corner to make a new message with someone!

Not a stupid question at all, I’m happy to help!

If not, I’ve always got discord! wylixao3

It's like you were in my brain

again amazing fic thank you so much

No worries! Glad you enjoyed it!! 😊

ok but can you write jj x reader (not apart of the bau)

cheating

breakup

angst

no happy ending

please and thank you 😊

Sorry for the late response! Enjoy!

Two Years Down the Drain

Summary: JJ cheats on Y/N, and Y/N could never forgive her.

It had been two years. Two years of Sunday morning coffees in bed. Two years of glances across crowded rooms that made Y/N feel like the only one in JJ’s world. Two years of loyalty, of faith.

And it had taken JJ one night to destroy it.


One night. One mistake. One betrayal.

Y/N sat curled into the far corner of her couch, her body numb and rigid under an old throw blanket. The TV hummed low in the background, some sitcom laugh track playing distantly, a hollow noise filling the silence Penelope Garcia had left behind when she went to grab more ice cream.

Penelope had been there the second Y/N called, voice shaking so hard she could barely get the words out.


JJ. Will. Caught. In bed.

And Penelope, beautiful, fierce, loyal Penelope, hadn't even hesitated. She left work in the middle of a database sweep to be there. She’d burst into the apartment, arms wide open, outrage bleeding into her every movement.

"I swear to the Goddess above," Penelope had hissed earlier that night, kneeling in front of Y/N on the carpet, "if you even think about forgiving her, I'll personally knock some sense into you, my love bug."


Her mascara had run with angry tears. "You are-“ she shook Y/N lightly by the shoulders, “-the best, most loyal partner. You deserved better. You still deserve better."

Y/N had barely been able to nod, her voice crushed to ash in her throat. Now, it was nearing 11pm, and she hadn’t moved. Not when Penelope left to pick up more snacks. Not when her phone buzzed over and over with JJ’s name. Not when the soft knock echoed against her front door. She barely even blinked when the knock turned into frantic pounding.


Not until the door clicked open. Y/N turned her head slowly, heart stuttering painfully. There JJ stood.
Disheveled, desperate. Her face wet with tears, her hands trembling, clutching the hem of her sweater like it was the only thing grounding her.

"Y/N, please," JJ gasped, stepping inside despite the lack of invitation. Her voice cracked , broke open , like something rotten finally spilling out.


Y/N didn’t say a word. She just watched. Watched this woman, this stranger, try to piece together a shattered thing like it hadn’t been deliberate. JJ dropped to her knees in front of her. "I'll do anything," she whispered brokenly. "Let me make it up to you."


Her hands, those traitorous hands, reached up, smoothing along Y/N’s thighs over the blanket. Soft. Familiar. Unwelcome. Y/N flinched back before she could stop herself, a full-body shudder crawling up her spine.

But JJ leaned closer anyway, desperate. Her hands slipped beneath the blanket, skin on skin, and she kissed Y/N's knee, slowly trailing her mouth up, up…

And all Y/N could think about…


was Will.

JJ’s mouth, the same mouth that kissed Will's body. JJ’s hands, the same hands that roamed Will’s chest, tangled in his hair. JJ’s body, the same body that let someone else claim it. The same body that cried out for someone else. Nausea clawed at Y/N's stomach. Tears blurred her vision.

"No," Y/N rasped, her voice finally breaking through the dam of hurt. She shoved JJ back, hard enough that JJ stumbled onto her heels. JJ’s face crumpled, devastated. But Y/N wasn’t moved. Not this time.

"You don't get to touch me," Y/N whispered, her voice shaking but strong. "Not after you let him." JJ’s mouth opened and closed, speechless. Tears streaked her cheeks. She looked so small, so pathetic, sitting there on the floor. "I loved you," Y/N said, chest heaving.


"You were my everything, Jennifer. And you threw it away for… for what? A cheap fuck in a bar bathroom?"

JJ winced, the words hitting like gunfire. "I can’t un-see it," Y/N whispered. "I can’t un-feel it."

The door banged open again, Penelope, standing there with two tubs of Ben & Jerry’s in her arms.
She took one look at the scene, JJ on her knees, Y/N trembling with rage and heartbreak, and her face hardened. "You need to leave," Penelope said coldly to JJ, stepping protectively in front of Y/N.


"I mean it, Jayje. Leave her alone. You’ve done enough."

JJ's body sagged under the weight of it. For the first time, she realised no apology could erase what she’d done. Without another word, she dragged herself to her feet, avoiding both their gazes, and stumbled out the door. Penelope dropped the ice cream on the coffee table and collapsed beside Y/N, pulling her into her arms.

And for the first time since the betrayal, Y/N sobbed.


Full-bodied, aching, gut-wrenching sobs. Penelope just held her, rocking her gently, whispering promises against her hair. "You’re going to survive this, sweet girl," Penelope swore fiercely. "You are going to find someone who would never, never, make you question how goddamn worthy you are."

And Y/N clung to her best friend, the only thing steady in a world that had fallen completely apart.

- - -

JJ didn’t stop. Not even after Penelope slammed the door in her face that night. Not after the dozens of ignored texts, the countless unanswered calls. Every few days, she showed up.


At the apartment.


At work.


At the gym Y/N used to drag her to.


Once, once, she even showed up at Y/N’s sister's house two towns over. Always with the same expression: broken. Pleading. Always with the same words: Please. Please forgive me. But Y/N didn’t have it in her.
Not anymore.

Instead, she buried herself in work. She picked up extra classes, took on after-school programs, volunteered for committee meetings she normally despised. Her planner was a battlefield of appointments and deadlines , anything to keep the memories from clawing at her in the quiet.

Because in the quiet?


She could still hear JJ’s voice, gasping, moaning, but not for her. In the quiet? She could still see JJ’s flushed face, turned towards Will, mouth parted in pleasure. A snapshot burned behind her eyelids. It made her want to scream until her throat bled. So she didn’t let herself have quiet anymore.

When she wasn’t teaching, she was out.


Late-night drinks with Garcia, both of them clinging to each other like they could stop the bleeding.

They laughed, too loud, too fake, at shitty bars, sipping watered-down margaritas until the sharpest edges dulled just a little.

They went dancing sometimes, Garcia dragging her onto the floor, spinning her around until Y/N could almost, almost, forget the shape of JJ's mouth around someone else's name.

She stopped going to places they used to share.


No more Saturday market.


No more little café on 5th.


No more late-night drives past the lake where they used to park and talk for hours.

Y/N erased JJ like scrubbing blood from white fabric, violently, desperately, but the stains were still there.


Faint, but permanent.

New chapter of Emily's Anger out now! Let me know what you think!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61419313/chapters/157001194#workskin