Do U Write Criminal Minds Mlm??

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!

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? 😊

yes superman and batman 😁

i just want a fluffy one shot

(post identity reveal)

with the whole fam

banter

A Movie Day…

It was a rare day off for the Justice League. Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent, long-time friends and partners in more ways than one, decided to make the most of the afternoon by inviting their closest allies over for a movie marathon. The mood was relaxed, far from the usual chaos of the world-saving they were accustomed to.

Bruce, ever the perfectionist, had already set the living room up to perfection, soft, overstuffed pillows scattered on the couch, dim lighting, and blankets that practically invited people to sink in and forget about the outside world. The projector was already set up, ready to play whatever movies they decided on.

Clark, as always, brought the snacks. He’d used his speed to gather a whole variety of things, making sure everyone’s favorites were covered. Pizza, popcorn, chocolate, and even a few healthier options (just to appease Bruce’s tendency to stress about healthy eating).

Barry Allen was the first to arrive, his usual cheerful energy filling the room. He dropped onto the couch with a laugh, immediately reaching for the bowl of popcorn that Clark had placed in the middle of the table.

“Got the snacks all ready to go?” Barry asked with a grin.

Clark chuckled, sitting next to him. “You know it, Barry. We’re going all out today. Don’t worry, there’s plenty of pizza left for you.

Diana Prince came in next, her presence calming, yet powerful. She smiled softly as she removed her boots, a knowing look passing between her and Bruce. It was clear she was looking forward to some downtime as much as everyone else. Arthur Curry followed close behind, his laid-back, salty demeanor filling the space as he threw an arm around Diana’s shoulders, dropping onto the floor with an exaggerated sigh.

“This is what I needed,” Arthur said with a smirk, sprawling across the floor. “A break from being the king of Atlantis to being a couch potato.”

Bruce’s lips twitched upward as he settled in, snuggling up to Clark, who immediately draped an arm around him. “You’re welcome to make yourself comfortable,” Bruce teased. “But don’t ruin the couch cushions.”

“Relax, B, I’ve got it under control,” Arthur said, waving him off.

The room was filled with the soft sound of laughter as the group settled into place. Diana and Barry nestled into the cushions, while Clark and Bruce found a comfortable spot on the couch, cozy beneath the blankets.

They started with an old classic superhero movie, something lighthearted that didn’t require much thought. Bruce, as always, was meticulously focused on the details of the film, while Clark couldn’t help but laugh at how serious his boyfriend was about it.

Diana leaned against Barry, who was already halfway through the popcorn, sharing a few jokes and comments about how they could do things differently. Arthur, ever the cynic, grumbled at the portrayal of the hero on screen.

“I mean, honestly,” Arthur muttered, “they really messed up the character.”

Clark’s laughter was genuine, nudging Bruce playfully. “See? Even the king of Atlantis can’t escape the occasional bad portrayal.”

“Maybe,” Bruce said, his voice low, “but I’m pretty sure we could do better if we were in charge.”

It was moments like these, when the weight of the world wasn’t on their shoulders, that they felt truly free. As the movie played on, Barry and Diana quietly started to drift off to sleep, their soft breathing filling the space, while Arthur dozed with his head resting against the couch.

Bruce and Clark, the two pillars of the group, simply enjoyed the warmth of each other’s presence. It was a rare, precious moment, a time to recharge, to laugh, to feel safe, and to love. No villains to fight, no crises to resolve, just each other and the simple joy of being together.

The day passed in a haze of cozy cuddles, whispered jokes, and shared snacks. Even Batman, who never truly let his guard down, found solace in the companionship of his friends, and in the quiet, comforting embrace of Clark Kent.

Hope you liked it! :))

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

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

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! 🙂❤️

MARRY ME UR SO TALENTED

Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying my pieces! Marriage requests are open :) Thank you!

Requests are open, may be slow, but feel free to ask for more!

okay so fic request

Emily and our future child decided that they want to make y/n breakfast in bed for their birthday

they tried making pancakes bacon toast eggs orange juice

somehow everything burnt y/n wakes up to the fire alarm blaring

y/n Goes downstairs to see Emily trying to fan smoke away from the smoke detector child is crying at burnt pancakes and bacon and eggs and ruined surprise

ihop was ordered after everything got cleaned up and everyone was calm

They made y/n pretend to be asleep to serve them the ihop in bed

had a great birthday at home with ur fav ppl

(tease Emily about this in the future)

Syrup Kisses 😘

As soon as I got your request, I got to working! Never in my life have I been so excited to write a quick fic! Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Y/N celebrates her birthday with breakfast, kisses, a fire alarm, and iHop!

You wake to the smell first. Unmistakable. Sharp. A scent that slams into your senses like a brick wall, burnt something.

Not just toast. Not just bacon. This is everything-is-on-fire kind of burnt. You blink hard, already halfway sitting up when the shrill screen of the fire alarm blares.

You don’t even bother with slippers. You bolt down the hallway, heart pounding, and when you round the corner into the kitchen, the sight makes you stop short.

Emily, your brilliant, expertly calm, terrifyingly sexy wife, is standing on a chair, frantically waving a flattened Princess doll cardboard box under the fire alarm.

Smoke curls from the stovetop behind her. A scorched pan rests in the sink, billowing what’s left of its dreams. But it’s your daughter, your sweet, earnest Lily, who breaks your heart wide open.

She’s crouched beside the kitchen island, her apron stained, her little face flushed with tears. Her lower lip quivering as she cries, fists clenched tightly at her sides.

“I ruined it!” She screams, voice breaking, “I ruined Mama’s birthday!” You rush to her instantly, dropping to your knees and pulling her into your arms.

She practically collapses against you, small and trembling and sticky with syrup.

“No… baby,” you whisper into her hair, “Hey, hey… look at me. You didn’t ruin anything.” Lily shakes her head, furiously, “I wanted to make you breakfast!”

Lily’s voice bordering on wail, “Eggs, a-and pancakes… and bacon and ju-juice and… coffee, and I-I dropped an egg on the cat… and the bacon caught on fire… and Mommy lied and said it w-was fine… but it wasn’t fine!”

You glance up. Emily looks like she’s aged and greyed ten years in the last ten chaotic minutes, still fanning the air like the fire department might show up.

“I didn’t lie,” Emily whines, climbing off the chair, “I said we could order pancakes if we needed to!” You give her a look, then kiss Lily’s curls.

“Sweetheart. You tried to make me breakfast. That’s the best birthday present in the world!” You confess, your hands gently holding her, “But it’s burnt!” She argues.

You pull her tighter, “So… we pivot. You know what Mama wants more than anything?”

Lily lifts her blotchy face, “What, Mama?”

“Pancakes. That don’t taste like smoke. Which is why… we’re ordering iHop. Right now…” Emily exhales dramatically, as if those two syllables, iHop, were her salvation. “Thank… god!”

You hand her your phone, “You order, I’ll calm our Michelin star chef down.” While Emily taps away on the screen, you rock Lily gently in your lap, her tears slowing, sniffling turning to quiet sighs.

You hum softly, rubbing her back, and she burrows into your neck with a whisper, “I just wanted to make you happy.”

“You don’t think this adorable face makes me happy everyday?” Your hand moves to gently pinch her red cheeks.

- - -

Fifteen minutes later, you’ve wiped down the counters, aired out the kitchen, lit a candle, and even managed to get Emily to laugh at her own morning misfortunes.

Lily sits at the table now, sipping on a plastic cup of apple juice with her head resting on her folded arms, still tired from the emotional whiplash of the morning.

You stretch and kiss Emily’s cheek. “Alright… I’m going back to bed.” Emily raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“I’m going to pretend none of this happened, so you two can try again. Bring me iHop. Act surprised. Got it?” You ask her with a smile.

Emily grins, “You’re such a little drama queen.” You nod, like it was common knowledge, “And you love me for it.”

“Every burnt piece of you.” You add.

- - -

You hear their footsteps before the door creaks slowly open. “Mama?” Lily whispers, careful, tiptoeing. You crack an eye, just enough to see her trying to balance a tray while Emily steadies it behind her.

You sit up, playing along, “Oh wow! Breakfast in bed? For me?!” Lily giggles, proudly setting the tray in your lap. “Happy birthday, Mama! We made this one better!”

You glance down, three golden pancakes, crispy bacon, fluffy scrambled eggs, and a little container of syrup. Everything you love, warm and perfect and not burnt.

Emily perches on the bed beside you, grinning, “You deserve it, hun.” You take a bite of pancake and groan happily, “This might be the best breakfast I’ve ever had.”

Lily beams. “It’s from iHop!” You laugh, mouth full, reaching to cup her cheek. “Still counts.”

She leans in and kisses your cheek, sticky, syrupy, and full of unconditional love. “Best Mama ever!” You sigh contentedly and wrap an arm around her, pulling Emily closer with your other hand.

“Best family ever!”

- - -

Months later…

You’re at the roundtable in the BAU bullpen. The case was hell. Everyone’s tired, weary and needing major sleep catchup.

Someone, probably Morgan, starts a round of “worst parenting fails,” and Hotch is halfway through telling a story about Jack and super glue when JJ turns to Emily.

“Didn’t you almost set your kitchen on fire trying to cook once?” The blonde questioned, Emily groaning as she sank into her chair, “It was a minor amount of smoke.”

You raise a brow. “Minor? The fire alarm woke the cat, and me. Lily cried. We had to order iHop to save my birthday.” Spencer’s eyes widen. “You ordered food and then pretended to be asleep so they could surprise you again?”

“Of course I did,” you say proudly, “I’m not going to miss a syrupy kiss from my daughter or my wife waving bacon in my face.”

Garcia practically squeals, “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard!” Emily squeezes your knee beneath the table, “She’s high maintenance, but she’s worth it.”

You grin. “You set off a fire alarm for me. That’s real love.”

Rossi chuckles, “You know it’s love when iHop saves the day!

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

I sadly don’t at the moment. Sorry! 😞

One Shot Messages

JJ: Hey, what's going on? You seem a little off. Y/N: Just tired. Long case. JJ: Tired, huh? Maybe you need a distraction. I can make you laugh - I'm pretty funny. Y/N: You? Funny? I'll believe it when I see it. JJ: Challenge accepted. Prepare to be amazed. Y/N: Alright, let's see what you got. JJ: Okay, here goes - why don't skeletons fight each other? Because they don't have the guts. Y/N: Ugh, that was terrible. JJ: I know, right? I'm hilarious. Y/N: You're lucky I love you. JJ: I'll take that as a win :)

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.