Chapter 2 Is Up! Enjoy!

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Chapter 2 is up! Enjoy!

More Posts from Anything-pov and Others

4 months ago

Quick post, chapter 12 of Emily’s Anger is out! Enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61419313/chapters/159342865


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1 week ago

SOFT LAUNCH

Of? I’m gonna need some more details, otherwise I might think I’m in a relationship that I don’t know of! 😂

Is there a specific character? Or pair? Or even fandom? That you’re looking for?

Let me know! 🙂🤔

4 months ago

Late post, but, Chapter 13 of Emily’s Anger is out!

archiveofourown.org
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Tags
6 days ago

reader is COLD

that's all i got

Enjoy :)

The Famous Sweatshirt 🥶

Emily sat behind her desk, flipping through case updates with her usual sharp focus, one leg tucked under the other, reading glasses perched low on her nose.

She glance up absently, just a habitual scan of the BAU bullpen, when she caught a movement out the corner of her eye. The newest addition to the BAU, Agent Y/N Y/L/N, sitting stiffly at her desk.

Head down, posture tight, and most notably... shivering.

Emily frowned. Y/N was still relatively new, five weeks in, sharp like her, well-versed in profiling and always meticulous in her reports. But she was quiet. Painfully quiet.

The kind of agent who always showed up on time, worked through lunch and never joined the team for drinks or dinner. A mystery in her own right.

And Emily, against her better judgement, had noticed her a little more than she probably should have. Y/N's thin button up did little to combat the spring chill that lingered in the BAU air conditioning.

Emily's gaze dropped to the bottom drawer of her desk. Without hesitation, she reached down, tugged it open and pulled out her spare FBI sweatshirt. Dark navy crew neck that was soft with age.

She stood, straightening the sleeves. With casual ease masking her fluttering nerves, the Chief made her way down the steps toward the desks in the bullpen.

Y/N looked up halfway through a sentence in her report, blinking in surprise at the sight of her Chief standing there. "Agent Y/L/N..." Emily said softly, offering her sweatshirt, "You looked cold."

Y/N's cheeks coloured immediately, "Oh... I.. uh, thank you, ma'am. I didn't realise I was-" Emily held her hand up gently, "It's alright," Emily smiled, gently pushing the sweater closer. "It's clean. I keep a spare."

Y/N accepted it with a smile, holding the fabric like it was something sacred, "this is really kind of you.. thank you." Emily nodded, lingering for a second longer than necessary, then, her tone gentled just a bit.

"Have you eaten today?"

Y/N blinked again, "Um... no, ma'am. I'm behind on the daily updates... and..." Y/N shuffled papers against her desk. "Emily," the Chief corrected with a warmer smile.

"Come on, it's sunny out, you've earned at least ten minutes." Y/N hesitated, Emily tilted her head, lowering her voice so it was just between them.

"Coffee. On me. We'll sit outside. You don't have to talk if you don't want to." A pause, then, slowly, the young agent nodded. "...okay."

Emily's chest did something traitorous and warm. She gestured toward the bullpen side doors. "Grab your badge. I'll meet you by the elevators."

As Y/N slid Emily's sweatshirt on, sleeves a little long over her wrists, Emily turned to head back upstairs, smiling quietly to herself. The coffee might just be ten minutes in the sun.

But to her, it already felt like the start of something worth being patient for.


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1 week ago

Since the person didn't answer i'll request

An Emily X Reader SOFT LAUNCH

where the BAU slowly finds out that Emily is in a relationship (w/a woman)

reader not apart of bau(maybe a chef??)

;))

Thanks for the request 🫦 Enjoy! 😉

The Soft Launch 🚀

For weeks, the BAU had been on alert. It started small, cute, funny little, cryptic Instagram stories from Emily.

A photo of her hand over another, fingers intertwined beside a wine glass and a plate of what looked like the most divine pasta any of them had ever seen.

No caption. Just a timestamp and a playlist linked, “Melt into You, Slow Jazz Sundays.” Then came the lunches. Homemade. Artisan, even. JJ had noticed it first.

“Emily,” she murmured one afternoon, during their usual break between rough cases, "did you pack that yourself?" Emily's eyes cast down to the perfectly layered beetroot and goat cheese tart in a glass container, simply shrugging.

"Got lucky."

Morgan, of course, had smelled something fishy when a bouquet of rosemary, not flowers, rosemary, had shown up in Emily's office with a note attached, "Don't forget the salt this time, baby. -Y."

But no one had answers. Just assumptions.

Then came the night at Rossi's, a few weeks later.

The house was buzzing with laughter, expensive liquor and the warm hum of an early spring evening. Rossi was holding one of his infamous parties, the kind where the wine flowed like a river.

Strauss had gotten tipsy enough to sing Piano Man on the baby grand. Rossi had, apparently, spared no expense on the food this time. "Hired someone big," he said with a smirk to JJ as he poured her another.

"Almost impossible to book, but I pulled strings." Emily, nursing her scotch, froze, "Who?" Rossi grinned, holding his glass a little tighter with excitement.

"Y/N Y/L/N. Apparently she trained in Paris and Tokyo and is probably going to get her second Michelin star before thirty." Emily's glass paused at her lips.

"What?" Rossi looked her over, "You've heard of her?" Emily blinked once, swallowing her worry, "You could say that." And then, like fate tipping its might hat, Y/N walked into the room from the kitchen.

Carrying an amuse-bouche like it was a crown jewel. She had short, tousled hair tucked behind one ear, arms inked with delicate fine-line tattoos, a lavender sprig, a sunflower, a French knife, and a crescent moon.

She wore her pristine chef's jacket rolled at the sleeves, her apron tied snug around a frame that was compact but clearly muscular. She glowed. And when her eyes met Emily's dark irises...

Everything stopped.

The room, the noise, the laughter, every bit of it melted. Y/N lit up, face breaking into the warmest smile and she crossed the space in a few long strides before stopping just shy of Emily's side.

"...Babe," she whispered, "Didn't realise you were here."

Emily looked dazed, then chuckled, running a hand through her hair, "Neither did I." Y/N leaned in and kissed her temple, and the collective BAU jaw hit the floor in unison.

"Holy..." Garcia whispered from across the table, "That's the chef?"

"THAT'S the mystery girlfriend?" Morgan mouthed to the blonde. Y/N turned to the group, cheeks slightly pink but utterly composed. "Hi. I'm Y/N. Sorry for the surprise. I wasn't told who the event was for."

Her eyes flicked to Rossi, "Your assistant booked me under 'D. Rossi Enterprises.' Very sneaky." Y/N smiled to the older man. "You're the Y/N?" JJ blinked, "The pasta queen from Instagram?"

Y/N laughed, nodding her head gently, "Guilty."

And just like that, any awkwardness vanished. Y/N floated back to the kitchen like she was born there, commanding heat and flame and plating like it was an artwork.

Emily, never far from the archway between kitchen and dining room, watched with an expression none of them had ever seen on her. Not even during a case crack.

Admiration.

Adoration.

The soft kind of awe that made her cheeks flush and her lips curl even when she didn't know she was smiling.

At one point, music drifted from the speakers, and Y/N, mid-sear on scallops, turned with a grin and swayed her hips to the beat. She danced around the kitchen like it was a small stage, a pan in one hand and a plating tweezer in the other.

"Is she dancing?" Reid asked in a whisper, "While cooking?" He turned to Garcia, the blonde shrugging her colourful shoulders, "Gordon Ramsay would cry," She whispered back, "Happy tears."

Then came the food.

A roasted duck breast with blackberry glaze, served over parsnip puree and heirloom carrots that had somehow sculpted into tiny roses.

Pasta with lemon cream and shaved bottarga. Each plate was a piece of art, every bite more transcendent than the last. A moan escaping every FBI agent's lips.

As dessert was served, something chocolate and impossibly airy, Emily stood and joined Y/N in the kitchen, slipping an arm around her waist.

"Can I help?" Emily murmured against the shell of Y/N's ear, Y/N just smiled, still focused on plating. "You already are." And when Emily kissed her cheek in full view of the team, Y/N leaned into it without a second thought.

Rossi raised a glass, "To Chief Emily Prentiss, and her not so secret anymore girlfriend." The team clinked glasses, JJ still wide eyed, Morgan nodding with impressed approval and Garcia already on her phone trying to find an open reservation.

- - -

Later, when the dishes were done and Y/N was tucked under Emily's arm on the porch with a glass of wine, Emily whispered, "Soft launch, huh?"

Y/N just turned to her and smiled, "Felt more like a firework finale..." Emily kissed her slow, like gratitude, like peace, like home. "Couldn't be prouder and more in love with you."


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1 week ago

would u write m-preg

Probably not! It’s not something I’m well versed in and I’d hate to misinterpret or write something that may not be accurate! Sorry! But thank you for asking and I hope you accept my apologies! 🙂❤️


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2 weeks ago

penelope x non binary reader( they/them)

talks of the future together

kids

WAIT ACTUALLY I WANNA SEE UR TAKE ON PEN AS A MOM PLZZZZZZZZZZZZ

Pillow Planning

Hope you like :)

It had started with a quiet night, feet tangled beneath a fuzzy throw blanket, Penelope tucked into the crook of Y/N Y/N's shoulder on the couch.

The television was murmuring something cheerful and forgettable, but Penelope's mind was already far from it, her fingers idly tracing shapes against Y/N's thigh.

"Have you ever thought about kids?" she asked, her voice low, careful. Y/N didn't flinch. Instead, they turned slightly, brushing a kiss to her hairline. "All the time," they said simply.

Their tone wasn't performative or dramatic... it was simple, real.

Garcia blinked up at them, almost too surprised, "Really?" Y/N nodded, "I think... I've always wanted to give someone the kind of safety and home I didn't have. I am so glad I found you... and I think we'd make a weird, glittery, brilliantly kind little human."

Garcia beamed, eyes stinging, "I want that too, I want all of it with you. Diapers, glitter explosions, juice boxes on courtroom steps. All of it."

Their fingers twined, a promise was made, half whispered, half anchored in the silent space between them.

- - -

The Team Barbecue - A few years later...

Garcia knelt by the front door, zipping up a bright yellow backpack adorned with cartoon stars and smiling dinosaurs. Inside was, wipes, snacks, extra clothes, a water bottle, and of course, a small plush fox named Captain Fuzzy.

Behind her, Y/N stood in the hallway, bent over carefully as they guided a squirming three year old into a pair of denim jeans and a bright red t-shirt with a dinosaur on the front, an exact miniature of Y/N's own outfit.

Garcia had demanded it, matching fits, looking good for photos. "Rex," Y/N said, their voice patient but firm, "arms up, big guy. Gotta get these pants up... don't want to be free willing it later."

Rex giggled, sleepy curls falling over his eyes. "I like bath free will," he mumbled. Y/N lifted him easily, smoothing his shirt down, whispering something Garcia couldn't quite catch, but she didn't have to.

It was always soft when Ronnie talked to their son. Always steady, calm.

Garcia zipped up the bag and stood, watching them, her heart just... full. Her spouse, tall, lean, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, tattoos peeking out under the collar of their shirt, was glowing in a way only she could see.

The way they looked at Rex, how they instinctively caught him when he lost balance, the way their arms formed home around him. That was what made her fall for Y/N in the first place.

Their loyalty. Steadiness. Their fire when needed, but never with her. Never with Rex. They caught Garcia looking, "What?" Y/N asked. Garcia could only smile, kissing Rex's forehead, then Y/N's mouth.

"You look good in denim. You both do."

- - -

Rossi's backyard was already filling with laughter and the smell of barbecue sauce and charred onions. Garcia led the way through the garden gate, Rex's little hand tight around Y/N's index finger.

She waved broadly to JJ, Emily, Spencer, and Rossi, all gathered around a large outdoor table with drinks and plates in hand.

"Everyone!!" Garcia beamed, "This is Rex Y/L/N-Garcia, he's... three, he's a dinosaur enthusiast and he is not sure if you are real people or ghosts.

Rex immediately ducked behind Y/N's legs. JJ coming over to kneel down slowly, setting her drink aside and pulling a cookie from a plate. "Hey there, Rex," she said gently, "I've got a dino cookie..."

Rex peeked out.

Y/N leaned down, murmuring to him. "It's okay. I'll come with you... I promise."

With tiny steps, Rex walked out from the safe haven of Y/N's legs, one hand still clinging to the fabric of their jeans. He reached for the cookie with his free hand, cheeks flushed pink, eyes wide.

"There you go," JJ said, holding it out without moving closer. Rex took it, then immediately turned to Y/N, "Dama stay?"

Y/N crouched beside him, "Right here, bug."

Garcia watched as JJ gently asked Rex about his dinosaur shirt, and he mumbled something about 'T-rex teeth' with a mouth full of cookie.

Garcia wiped a stray tear before it could fall, blinking up at the sky for a second. She turned to find Emily beside her, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You okay, mama?"

Garcia let out a shaky laugh, "Yeah... yeah, I just... this is everything. Y/N, Rex, the matchy-matchy denim, the fact that my son just came out of hiding for a cookie... that's parenting. That's our kid."

Y/N joined her then, slipping an arm around her waist, their voice low in her ear, “He’s doing great.”

“You’re doing great,” Garcia said, resting her head on their shoulder. “You’re everything I ever wanted, you know?”

Y/N kissed her temple. “And you’re more than I thought I deserved.”

Garcia sniffled, then straightened. “Okay. Emotional moment over. Let’s get matching lemonade and take family photos before someone spills ketchup on our son.”

*Dama is the name I adopted for another series, it's 'dad' and 'ma' together, more of a non-binary... they/them version of a parental figure name!


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1 month ago

do you write about real people eg jenna ortega/billie eillish

I sadly don’t at the moment. Sorry! 😞

1 month ago

influx of requests and i'm pretty sure half was from me im sorry 😭

That’s all okay! Just wanted to make sure you knew it’d take me a while :)


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