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Chapter 14 of Emily’s Anger, we’re almost done! Just one more left!

thank you for writing the ihop fic

it was amazing 🤩

Glad you liked it! Feel free to request more of what you’d like to see if you like! I take most requests! 😊🙂

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!

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!

i like the fics where reader is a member of the BAU's siblings/child

could you maybe write one like that

i'm giving you the choice of who/what relationship

Something angsty though reader gets injured or kidnapped or something

Happy ending obviously

Hurt comfort types stuff please 🙏

Agent Y/N Hotchner

Summary: Y/N Hotchner (Aaron Hotchner’s younger sibling) joined the team six months ago, after Aaron's retirement, Y/N found interest in the team when they got their hands on an old case file. Signing up for training, Y/N underestimated the responsibility of being on the BAU team.

Work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64296616

The warehouse smelled of oil and rust, the air thick with dust that settled on their skin like a second layer. JJ, Tara, and Y/N Hotchner had been searching for an escape route when the unsub, an unhinged, paranoid survivalist, had slammed a metal door shut behind them, locking them inside.

"Shit," JJ hissed, immediately reaching for her radio, but all they got was static. The unsub must’ve jammed the signal.

"We need to find another way out," Tara said, scanning the room. The only exit was the locked door and a boarded-up window near the ceiling. "If we stay put, he might come back, but if we make noise, he might just—" Before she could finish, Y/N spotted movement from the shadows. The unsub lunged.

Instinct took over. Y/N moved fast, trying to dodge his attack, but he was bigger, stronger, and caught them by the arm, yanking them off balance. She twisted in his grip, but the force sent them crashing to the ground, their left shoulder slamming against the concrete at a terrible angle.

A sharp, white-hot pain shot through their body. Y/N let out a rough, broken scream, their breath catching as agony swallowed them whole.

"Y/N!" JJ and Tara’s voices overlapped, their footsteps rushing toward them.

The unsub took a step back, breathing heavily, but instead of running, he sneered down at Y/N. "Should've stayed down, girl." JJ didn’t hesitate.

One shot.

The crack of the gunshot echoed in the warehouse as the bullet tore into the unsub’s chest. He staggered, eyes widening in shock before crumpling to the ground. JJ kept her gun raised, breathing heavy, her jaw tight. "You okay?" she asked Tara without looking away from the unmoving body.

Tara was already at Y/N’s side, pressing a steadying hand against their uninjured shoulder. "Y/N, talk to me," she urged, voice calm but firm. Y/N panted through the pain, their body curling in on itself. "Shoulder—" she rasped. "It’s—"

"Dislocated," Tara finished for them, carefully running a hand over the injury. Y/N flinched violently, a strangled noise escaping their throat.

JJ slowly approached the unsub, toeing his gun away before kneeling down to check his pulse. Two fingers pressed against his neck, waiting, nothing. She exhaled sharply, eyes dark. "He's dead." Without another glance, she turned back to Y/N. Y/N groaned, their body shifting slightly, sending a fresh wave of pain searing through their shoulder. "Fuck—"

"I know," JJ murmured, immediately kneeling beside them. She reached out, brushing damp strands of hair from Y/N’s forehead. "I know, sweetheart. Just breathe for me, okay?"

Tara stood, scanning the dimly lit warehouse. "We can’t just leave them like this. I need to find something to splint their shoulder, keep it stabilized." JJ nodded, her focus on Y/N as Tara moved through the space, rummaging through rusted shelves and discarded crates.

"J… hurts," Y/N whimpered, their breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. JJ’s fingers curled around Y/N’s good hand. "I know, honey. I know. But I’m right here. We’re gonna get you through this." JJ shifted slightly, allowing Y/N to lean against her chest.

She could feel the unsteady rise and fall of Y/N’s breathing, the tremors wracking their body. "Just focus on me, okay? What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when we get out of here?" Y/N exhaled shakily, their forehead pressing into JJ’s shoulder. "Shower… maybe s-sleep forever," she mumbled weakly.

JJ huffed a soft laugh. "Yeah? Sounds like a plan. I’ll even make you coffee in the morning."

"C-coffee…" Y/N breathed, the thought almost too far away to care about, but it still brought a small, appreciative smile to their lips. Tara returned a minute later, a wooden plank and some torn fabric in her hands. "This'll have to do until we can get them out of here."

JJ helped shift Y/N slightly, but even the smallest movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through their body. Y/N moaned low in their throat, eyes squeezing shut as their head fell back against JJ’s shoulder.

"You’re doing so good," JJ whispered, pressing her lips to Y/N’s temple. "Just a little longer, okay?" Tara worked quickly, binding Y/N’s arm as gently as she could. "It’s not perfect, but it’ll keep it stable." She met Y/N’s pain-glazed eyes. "You hanging in there?"

Y/N gave a small, tired nod. "Barely." JJ adjusted her hold on Y/N, wrapping an arm around their back to support them. "I’ve got you," she murmured. The minutes stretched into an eternity. JJ and Tara kept talking to them, keeping them awake.

JJ rubbed slow, comforting circles into their back, whispering soft reassurances. Tara kept checking their pulse, making sure she wasn’t slipping too far into the pain. "You’re a tough one, Hotchner," Tara mused, her tone light despite the tension. Y/N huffed a weak chuckle. "Runs in the family."

"Yeah, I know." Tara kept a careful eye on Y/N as her voice softened. "You’re gonna be okay. We just gotta keep you talking, all right? Let’s take your mind off the pain." Y/N nodded, their throat tight. "I don’t know if I can."

"Yes, you can," JJ insisted, brushing her hand over Y/N’s damp forehead. "You’ve got this, just talk to us. Tara, make them talk. Anything." Tara raised her brows, a playful glint in her eyes. "Okay, okay. Fine, let’s see… You ever think about going skydiving, Hotchner?" Y/N let out a weak breath. "Skydiving? Are you crazy?"

Tara grinned. "Well, you’ve gotta die somehow, right? Might as well be in a way that makes people say, ‘Man, they were brave.’" Y/N laughed weakly, but it was enough to draw out another strained but genuine smile. "I’m more of a stay-on-the-ground kind of person."

JJ smiled, continuing her gentle ministrations. "You and me both." The sound of approaching sirens finally broke the silence. JJ exhaled in relief, her grip tightening around Y/N.

"They’re here," she whispered. Y/N let out a shaky breath, their body trembling against JJ. "You did good, kid," JJ murmured, pressing a soft kiss to their hair. "You did real good."

The warehouse door was kicked open, a burst of voices flooding inside. "FBI! Hands where we can see them!" Emily’s voice. Tara stood immediately, signaling to the team. "We’re clear! Unsub’s down... Y/N’s hurt!"

Boots pounded against the concrete floor as their team rushed in, led by Emily, Luke, and Rossi. Emily’s eyes swept the room, landing on JJ and Y/N, her expression shifting from hardened focus to sharp concern.

JJ barely looked up. "She needs a medic... now." Emily knelt beside them, her hand grazing Y/N’s uninjured arm. "Hey, kid," she said gently. Y/N groaned in response, their head rolling weakly against JJ’s shoulder.

"She needs help Em," JJ murmured. "She’s exhausted." The paramedics arrived next, their med bags already unzipped. "What are we looking at?"

"Left shoulder dislocation," Tara answered, stepping back to give them space. "She took a hard fall." One of the medics knelt, assessing Y/N’s arm with careful hands. "We’ll get them on a stretcher, stabilize the joint, and give them something for the pain."

Y/N whimpered when they moved them. JJ ran a soothing hand over their hair. "I got you," she whispered. "Just breathe, sweetheart." Emily’s gaze flicked to JJ, catching the rare softness in her eyes. She knew JJ cared about Y/N, hell, they all did, but this? This was different.

JJ had spent an hour holding Y/N together, keeping them from breaking under the pain. That kind of care wasn’t just professional. It was personal. The medics got Y/N secured, an oxygen mask over their nose, an IV slipping into their arm to deliver pain relief. The tension in their body finally started to ease.

JJ stood, hesitating for only a second before squeezing Y/N’s fingers once more. "I’ll be right behind you, okay?" Y/N’s eyelids fluttered, a ghost of a nod. As the stretcher rolled out, Emily turned to JJ. "You okay?" JJ let out a breath, her eyes trailing after Y/N. "I will be."

Emily studied her for a beat before nodding. "Let’s get them to the hospital."

- - -

The hospital room was bright, too bright, the overhead lights casting a sterile glow over the pale blue walls. Y/N lay on the exam table, their body finally beginning to relax as the drugs coursed through their system.

JJ stood beside them, one hand wrapped around Y/N’s as the doctors and nurses moved efficiently around them, preparing to reset their shoulder. "You’re doing great, kid," JJ murmured, her thumb tracing small circles against Y/N’s skin. "Just a little longer."

Y/N blinked slowly, their pupils dilated, their lips parting as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. "Alright," the doctor announced, positioning himself at Y/N’s side. "We’re gonna get that shoulder back in place. You might feel some pressure."

Y/N let out a breath, their gaze flicking up to JJ, "Stay?" JJ’s heart clenched. "I’m not going anywhere," she promised. The doctor nodded at the nurse, who adjusted the IV drip, pumping more painkillers into Y/N’s system.

JJ could see the drugs taking hold, the tension in Y/N’s muscles easing, their expression softening, their blinks growing slower. The doctor gave JJ a small look of warning before he took hold of Y/N’s arm, rotating it gently. Y/N whimpered, a small, pained sound escaping their lips, their fingers weakly squeezing JJ’s hand.

JJ leaned closer. "I know, sweetheart. Almost done."

A swift movement, a deep pop...

And then it was over.

Y/N let out a slow exhale, blinking up at JJ with glassy eyes. "Did you see that?" she mumbled, voice slurring. "My arm just—boom—" she wiggled their fingers lazily, "back in place." JJ bit back a smile, brushing her thumb across Y/N’s knuckles. "Yeah, I saw."

Y/N grinned, slow and sleepy, "I feel great. I love drugs. I should dislocate stuff more often." JJ snorted, "Let’s not make a habit of that, okay?" Y/N just giggled, their head lolling slightly to the side. "You're so pretty."

JJ huffed a quiet laugh. "You’re definitely high."

"Maybe," Y/N mumbled, their voice barely above a whisper. "But you’re still pretty." JJ shook her head, smiling as she brushed a damp strand of hair from Y/N’s forehead.

The door burst open seconds later, and the rest of the team rushed in. Rossi, Tara, Luke, and Emily all crowded around the bed, their faces a mix of concern and relief. "How’s she doing?" Emily asked, her sharp eyes immediately scanning Y/N’s face.

JJ smirked. "She’s high as hell." Y/N blinked sluggishly at the new arrivals, their face lighting up when she spotted Emily. "Boss lady!" she greeted with a bright, dopey grin. Emily arched an eyebrow. "That’s me." Y/N nodded sagely, squeezing JJ’s hand. "Did you know… that JJ is so pretty?"

JJ sighed. "Oh god, we’re back to this." Luke grinned. "I like high Y/N. She’s affectionate." Y/N’s head lolled toward him. "Luuuuke," she drawled. "You’re so... so... tall." He chuckled. "Can’t argue with that." Rossi stepped closer, his hands tucked into his pockets. "How’s the shoulder, kid?"

Y/N stared at him for a long moment before whispering, as if revealing a great secret, "Attached." The whole team laughed. Even Rossi let out an amused chuckle, shaking his head. "That’s good," Tara said, amused. "Let’s keep it that way."

Y/N nodded solemnly before their eyes drifted down to where JJ’s hand was still in theirs. She patted it clumsily. "This... is my emotional support JJ." JJ groaned, but the team lost it, laughter echoing through the small hospital room.

"You’re not wrong," Emily said, shooting JJ a teasing glance. Y/N sighed dramatically, leaning their head back against the pillows. "I love you guys." Tara chuckled. "You’re gonna regret saying that when you sober up." Y/N’s face scrunched up.

"Nope. I mean it. You’re all my bestest friends." She turned to Emily, their eyes shining with exaggerated sincerity. "Even you, boss lady. Even though you’re scary sometimes." Emily smirked. "That’s fair." Luke shook his head, grinning. "I should record this."

Y/N gasped. "Nooo." She clutched JJ’s hand dramatically. "JJ, protect me!" JJ rolled her eyes but gave Y/N’s hand a reassuring squeeze. "Alright, alright. No recordings." Y/N exhaled in relief before their gaze landed on Tara. "Taraaa," she drawled. "You were so cool back there. Like a doctor. You should be a doctor."

Tara laughed. "I’ll consider it." Y/N nodded. "Good. You’d be great." Rossi smirked. "I think the painkillers are wearing off." Y/N pouted. "Nooo. I like being floaty." Emily shook her head, amusement twinkling in her eyes. "You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning."

Y/N groaned, already feeling the first hints of exhaustion creeping in. "Ugh. Future me’s problem." JJ smiled softly, brushing her thumb over Y/N’s knuckles. "Alright, enough excitement. You need to rest."

Y/N sighed but nodded, their eyelids already drooping. "Okay. But only 'cause you said so, emotional support JJ."

The team chuckled again, the weight of the day finally beginning to ease as Y/N drifted off to sleep, still holding onto JJ’s hand.

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

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

Y/N: Did you two eat my emergency chocolate?

Emily: Define “emergency.”

JJ: Yeah, Emily was stress-eating during Reid’s chess meltdown.

Y/N: And you just… joined her?

JJ: I left you a granola bar!

Y/N: Granola doesn’t replace chocolate, JJ.

Emily: We’ll buy you a new one.

Y/N: Not good enough.

JJ: Fine, two bars. Happy?

Y/N: Make it three… for emotional damages.

JJ: You’re lucky we love you.

Y/N: And don’t you forget it :).

can you write a fic where reader is deaf and Emily learn sign language for them??

Enjoy!!

Prentiss Signs

Truthfully? You never expected her to try. You couldn't just expect something like that from someone, or at least you'd come to learn that.

Emily was already so busy, with jetting off to cases, working long nights, leading the team, carrying the weight of so many lives. You'd told her more than once, "It's okay... you don't have to."

And you meant it.

But Emily Prentiss has a stubborn streak, and she doesn't do anything halfway. So when she showed up one evening with a stack of notecards, her hair a mess and her jacket over one arm, you just stared.

She dropped her keys, and her bag, and signed (clumsily, but surprisingly clearly), "Hi. I want to learn." You blinked, then blinked again.

She smiled, nervous and unsure, and added aloud, slow enough for you to read her lips, "I know I got that wrong. But... I want to do this. For you."

And so it began.

At first, Emily struggled. Her slim fingers didn't want to cooperate, she'd blame it on her years of holding stiff guns, her brow would furrow constantly.

And more than once she muttered, "This shouldn't be harder than hostage negotiations," which you couldn't help but giggle at, though you'd quickly hide it under a cough when her arms would cross with a sigh.

But you were patient, as patient as she'd allow. You signed things slowly, sometimes repeating them two, three even four times till she got it.

When she fumbled through something as simple as "coffee" or "work", she'd huff and sign something vaguely chaotic that made you burst out with silent laughter.

Still, she persevered, kept going.

She even enrolled in ASL class on Thursday nights, juggling it between her BAU schedule and mountains of Chief worthy paperwork.

You'd catch her practicing in the mirror, mouthing the words while signing them slowly, her fingers dancing shakily until they learned the easing rhythm.

You'd fall asleep sometimes with her arm wrapped around your waist, her free hand unconsciously tracing the alphabet against your back. And slowly, oh so slowly, she got better.

You taught her curse words when she needed to vent, and jokes when she needed to smile. She learned "I love you" early, she practiced it more than once.

One night, without warning, she looked at you, no stumble or hesitation, and signed it. Perfectly. "I love you". You forgot how to breath for a second.

- - -

A few months later...

You, something you don't usually do, join the BAU team for dinner. Garcia picked the restaurant, somewhere trendy and loud, all laughter and clinking glasses.

The team has taken over a long table in the back. Emily rests her hand on your lower back as you slide into the seat beside her. And just like that, it starts.

Morgan is already in story mode, laughing at something Spencer had mistakenly done last week, talking a mile a minute. JJ is trying to keep up, and Garcia's hand gestures alone could tell a full story.

You lean back, a little overwhelmed, your brows furrowing as you slowly get left behind...

But then Emily taps your thigh gently, her fingers drawing your attention. She signs slowly, "Morgan said Reid spilled coffee on Hotch's files. Again."

You snort. Emily smiles.

Every few minutes, she checks in, translating certain bits of fast conversation, shortening some, skipping others, but making sure you're never left out of the loop.

She signs across your lap, under the table, casually but clearly, pausing sometimes to double check her signs. Once, when she fumbles over a complex phrase Garcia throws out, she huffs, rolls ger eyes and signs, "I'm trying, okay?"

You kiss her cheek. Knowing Garcia was one to make up her own words and phrases to emphasise her misfortune.

- - -

Later that night, when everyone was full and winding down, you notice the others looking at her a little differently. Not unkindly. Just... moved.

Emily, who once struggled to remember the difference between "want" and "need", is now translating full conversations without missing a beat or made up word.

And she learned it all, just for you.

You squeeze her hand under the table, signing a slow, heartfelt, "Thank you. I see you." She squeezes back, "Always, love."

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.

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.