Ok So I Kind Of Want You To Write A Fic With A Fart Kink

The Carnival Fair!

Thanks for the mention!

Hi

Have u written a story where they take Henry or maybe if not both kids with there daughter carried by jj , to a fair and and ace takes in one of those rigged shooting games and the guy running it is over cocky thinking that she has no chance, so ace asks Henry what prize he wants and he decides on the biggest one there. Of course ace wins it wiping the smug look of the guys face. Emily and jj are insanely turned on but before they can even think of that Henry does something really sweet and gifts the prize to his sister

Ur writing is amazing

I haven’t written that but @anything-pov definitely wrote that for their Ghost series! Check it out.

if u write literally any penelope garcia x fem!reader smut i will love u forever 🙏🙏🙏 (does not have to be like super smutty if u dont want) (maybe they go home together after a hard case and. relax. a little?)

i love ur writing!! :3

Enjoy :)

Rainbows and Storm Clouds 🌈 🌧️

The case had taken too much from both of them. Penelope closed the front door to their shared apartment with a heavy sigh, dropping her tech bag beside the coat rack.

Her heart was still tangled in the horror of the week, missing kids, sleepless hours, too much coffee and too little hope. From the kitchen, Y/N looked up.

She was tall and elegant in that quiet, still-water way. Bare feet, tank top, and sleep pants slung low on her hips. Her lean frame moved slowly, muscles pulled tight from exhaustion.

The subtle tattoos on her ribs and inner arms peeked out in the soft kitchen light, delicate and personal. "Hey, love," Y/N said gently, crossing the floor in long strides to catch Penelope.

"You're home."

Penelope let herself melt into the hug, burying her face in Y/N's chest. "I've never hated the world more." Y/N just held her tighter, one of her hands moving to hold Penelope's gorgeous blonde hair.

"I know."

They didn't talk much more. Didn't need to. The night folded in around them like velvet, slow, warm, and insanely gentle. Quiet music drifted from a speaker.

Penelope lit lavender candles while Y/N poured two glasses of wine, then set them down untouched on the bedside table. They kissed slow, Y/N always kissed slow.

Her fingers stroked behind Penelope's ear, across her jaw, down her sides, steady and reverent like she was trying to remind them both what tenderness looked like.

Penelope fell back on the bed, legs open, arms reaching, "Touch me," she whispered, her eyes glassy and soft. Y/N didn't rush. She always liked starting things slow, savouring every reaction, every sound and tremble.

She kissed down Penelope's neck, along her chest, between the soft curves Garcia always called 'too much' but Y/N loved them. Worshipped them.

She mouthed at her girlfriend's breast, sucking gently until Penelope arched up into her mouth. Fingers dipped low. Slow circles. Long strokes.

Y/N slid two fingers inside, curling them perfectly, her other hand never stopping its slow petting over Penelope's ribs, her belly, her thigh.

Penelope whined and gasped, thighs tightening, hips rocking up, one hand tangled in Y/N's soft, sun streaked hair. "I've got you," Y/N murmured, the vibration sending more sensation across Penelope's body.

"Let it go."

Penelope came with a soft cry, back arching like a bow. Y/N stayed with her, kissing every part of her she could reach, waiting for her to breath again.

Then Penelope blinked up at her, smiling, flushed and blushing, "Your turn." Y/N was quick to shake her head gently, "No, you don't have to..."

Penelope, in turn, shook her head, rolling them over with surprising strength, straddling Y/N with a wicked little smile. "I want to." Y/N let her.

Penelope took her time. She pressed kisses to the slope of Y/N's shoulders, licked down the lines of the tattoo on her ribs, traced her hands across the soft stretch of Y/N's stomach, admiring how she twitched under the touch.

Then she slid down between her legs, spreading her thighs gently, kissing the inside of one before curling her fingers into her. Y/N gasped and let her head fall back, one arm thrown over her eyes, the other fisting the sheets.

Penelope sucked slow and deep, fingers matching her rhythm, her free hand holding Y/N's hip still as she moved. Every moan Y/N gave her was a gift.

Every trembling breath, every whispered plea for "just a little more, please," was wrapped in love and gratitude.

When Y/N came, it was like something quiet breaking open, her voice low, shuddering, thighs shaking, body relaxing all at once like the band had snapped. Her body ending its fight against itself.

After, Penelope kissed her way back up, pulling Y/N into her arms. They laid there, heartbeats slowing in sync. Eventually, they padded barefoot into the bathroom.

Y/N ran the bath while Penelope dimmed the lights and brought the abandoned wine glasses on from the bedside. The tub was filled with lavender and honey oils, the warm water almost glowing in the candle light.

They sank into the bath, limbs tangled, bodies soft, heads resting together in silence. Garcia kissed Y/N's temple and whispered, "Thank you..."

Y/N kissed her back, "Always, love."

They stayed in the water until the candles burned low, until the pain of the world faded into the warmth between them, and nothing else existed by skin, breath and the raw and unconditional safety of each other.

It’s getting juicy…

Chapter 1 of The Big Question, out now!

Thank you readers for the love on my last fic, I’m glad you both cried to it and loved it!

For anyone that wants to talk or request: I have…

Discord: wylixao3

Mail: wylixao3@gmail.com

Or here, on tumblr! My DM’s are always open!

how have you been lately??

Good! I’ve now, 100%, moved in! It’s been a wild ride, and I apologise to the readers for both Wylix and M_Wylix for the delays on chapters and fics!

Thank you!

How have you been? 😊

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! 🙂❤️

Chapter 11 of Emily’s Anger is out Readers!! Enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61419313/chapters/159189316

I’ve been asked a few times to do a sick fic with my Ghost Series, but no kind of specific sickness! Anyone want to suggest one? Or request a specific one?

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."

me: I write for myself, not validation

also me after posting a fic *refreshes ao3 every five minutes*

(two things can be true)