anything-pov

[anything-pov]

reader gets a buzz cut

jj loves it

comes on her head??

Enjoy 😉

New Cut, New Avenues 🫦

The door to JJ’s apartment clicks open.

She’s barely had time to set down her bag when she hears it, the unmistakable sound of her partner’s boots on hardwood. She turns toward the kitchen, the word “Hey” forming on her lips, but it dies in her throat.

Y/N is standing there, shoulder leaned casually against the doorframe, a smirk playing on their lips. And their hair... gone. Gone, save for a perfect, uniform buzz cut that hugs their head, revealing every smooth angle of their skull.

It’s military neat, but Y/N wears it like rebellion. Their earrings, silver rings and black studs, gleam sharper. Their tattoos stand out more boldly, especially the one curling behind their ear.

JJ’s gaze trails the line of their neck, sharp and clean now. Exposed. “Jesus,” JJ breathes. She drops her keys. Y/N grins wider. “Like it?” JJ steps forward slowly, eyes locked on theirs, like prey drawn to a predator she wants to be caught by.

“You didn’t warn me.” Y/N shrugs. “Felt like a change.” JJ’s fingers are already threading through the soft bristle, stroking along the curve of Y/N's skull. Her breath stutters.

She steps in closer, almost chest to chest now. Her voice drops. “You’re not leaving this apartment tonight.” Y/N doesn’t blink. “Didn’t plan to.”

JJ kisses them, hard, hungry, possessive. She’s already pushing Y/N backward toward the bedroom. Their shirt is unbuttoned before they hit the hallway wall. JJ bites their jaw.

They moan, low and sweet, as her knee wedges between their legs. JJ doesn’t let up. By the time they hit the bed, Y/N is shirtless, belt undone, and JJ is straddling them, lips bruised and pupils blown wide.

She pulls back, panting, eyes darting over every inch of exposed skin. “I want to ride your face,” she whispers. Y/N's breath catches. “Anything.”

JJ grins... feral.

She shifts, moving up, one knee on either side of Y/N's head. Y/N's hands come up instinctively, gripping her thighs, anchoring themself as JJ lowers down with a gasp.

Y/N moans into her, messy, open-mouthed, tongue hungry and practiced. JJ’s fingers grab at the headboard, but her eyes flutter shut only briefly. She forces herself to look down.

Y/N. Hairless. Gorgeous. Face buried in her, eyes dark and gleaming. “Fuck-Y/N-don’t stop...” They don’t. They can’t. JJ’s hips roll, slow and grinding, riding Y/N's mouth like a wave she refuses to fall from.

And when the first orgasm crashes over her, she shudders violently, clenching around their tongue, gasping Y/N's name like a prayer. But she’s not done.

She moves down, smirking now, and presses Y/N to their back. “Lie still.” Y/N obeys. Wide-eyed. Breathless. JJ swings a leg over again, but not to sit on their face this time.

She positions herself over Y/N's head. Y/N's lips part. “JJ...”

“I’m riding your buzzed head,” JJ whispers with a wicked smile. “You did this to me.” Her slick is still dripping, thighs trembling, when she sinks down.

The texture of the buzz cut against her folds is filthy. Electric. JJ cries out, both hands gripping Y/N's forearms. Y/N groans beneath her, the vibration shooting up JJ’s spine.

She grinds slow at first, chasing the pressure, using every inch of that shorn head to get herself off. Y/N watches, flushed, their chest rising and falling rapidly, completely pinned beneath her. Worshipful.

JJ moans louder now, hips moving in desperate rhythm, losing herself in the feel of them, of power, friction, love. Her voice cracks. “I’m gonna-oh-fuck-Y/N... yes-”

And she does.

Climax hits like a freight train, her entire body seizing as she collapses forward, trembling, gasping, her forehead resting against Y/N's chest.

For a long moment, they just breathe. Then Y/N lets out a weak laugh. “So… you like the haircut.” JJ laughs against their skin, breathless and flushed. “That’s an understatement.”

She lifts her head, hair a mess, eyes gleaming. “You’re never growing it out.”

[anything-pov]

can y write one where reader gets Amputated(leg) and has to learn to live with it

emilyxreader

Enjoy :)

One Step Closer 🦿

The blast came out of nowhere. Emily had just shouted for Y/N to get back when the car went up in flames, shrapnel ripping through the air like confetti made of steel.

The smoke and screaming blurred together in Emily’s ears, but through it all, she heard one distinct thing, “Em?”

Y/N's voice, raw and cracked.

Emily sprinted.

By the time she got there, the fire was licking the air behind Y/N, her body curled in the dirt, leg pinned under a hunk of twisted, steaming metal. Emily skidded to her knees beside her, hand instantly reaching for her partner’s face.

Y/N was blinking hard, not even crying. "I'm okay, I... I can't feel it." Emily’s eyes dropped to Y/N's right leg. What was left of it.

Blood soaked through Y/N's pants, and the bone was clearly exposed just above the boot line. It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t stable. And it sure as hell wasn’t survivable without massive intervention.

Paramedics swarmed in. Emily didn’t move until they physically pulled her back to give space. Her hands were covered in Y/N's blood. The hospital lights were too bright.

The surgeon’s words cut deeper than the scalpel ever could.

“She’s lost too much blood. We can’t repair the leg. We can try to keep more of the knee joint intact, but we need a decision. Now.”

Y/N was unconscious. Critical. Not stable enough to consent. And Emily Prentiss was the next of kin on record. “I’m not losing her,” Emily said, voice like gravel. “Do it. Save her life.”

The surgeon nodded, moving quickly. Emily backed into the hallway wall and slid down, burying her face in her hands as the reality cracked her open like lightning on dry earth.

Y/N woke up groggy, fingers twitching before her eyes even opened. Emily was already there, hand wrapped gently around her wrist. Y/N's first thought was, Em looks wrecked.

Her second, Why is the blanket over my left leg only? Her eyes darted down. “Hey,” Emily said softly, instantly cupping her jaw. “Y/N. Look at me.”

Y/N's breath stuttered. “My leg... Em, my...”

“I’m here,” Emily whispered, trying to keep her own voice calm even as the tears formed. “There was no saving it. You were bleeding out. They— they had to.”

Y/N let out one broken sob before covering her face with both hands. Emily climbed onto the bed, arms around her in seconds, careful of every IV and line, her lips at Y/N's temple, whispering things neither of them would remember.

She stayed like that for hours. Through the grief. Through the tremors. Through the scream Y/N let out that night when the phantom pain set in. Recovery was cruel.

The hospital bed in the apartment. The catheter. The sponge baths. The pills that barely touched the fire licking up her thigh. The mirror she refused to look into.

The first time Y/N saw the stump, she threw up. Emily held her hair and said nothing. “Jesus Christ,” Y/N whispered, staring at where her calf used to be, wrapped in thick gauze, the shape of her thigh leading into... nothing.

“It’s okay,” Emily whispered. “You’re here. You’re alive.”

“I feel like half a person.”

“You’re not,” Emily said instantly. “You’re still my person.”

It took two weeks before Y/N left the apartment. The BAU was having a quiet Sunday at Rossi’s, no case, no stress. Just beer, food, and family.

Emily checked three times that Y/N was ready before they even left the apartment. Y/N insisted on wearing jeans even though she couldn’t get them over the stump yet, settling on athletic shorts with a flannel tied around her waist.

The forearm crutches weren’t graceful, but they kept her steady. Garcia was the first to see them arrive. She blinked away the tears before throwing her arms wide open, waiting.

Y/N nodded, gave her one crutch, and hugged with one arm. Everyone else followed in their own quiet, respectful way. No pity. Just love.

Rossi made sure her plate was full. JJ slid onto the porch swing with her, gentle and silent. Spencer offered to bring her anything she needed. Tara squeezed her shoulder on the way to get another drink.

Y/N leaned into Emily by the fire pit, whispering, “They’re not looking at it.”

“They’re looking at you,” Emily said, pressing a kiss to Y/N's shoulder. “And they’re glad you’re here.”

The prosthetic was sleek, silver, modern. Y/N stared at it in the fitting room mirror while the prosthetist gently guided her through the harnessing and pressure checks.

She was sweating by the time she stood on both legs. Wobbling. Tears in her eyes. Emily was behind her, arms crossed but lips trembling.

“You look incredible,” Emily breathed.

“I feel like a cyborg.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Y/N let out a laugh, her first real one in weeks. The first few steps were uneven. Then shaky. Then... controlled. Emily followed closely behind, hands ready but never touching unless asked.

“I got you,” Emily said gently when Y/N froze halfway through the room. “Every time.”

That night, they stood together in front of the bathroom mirror. Y/N sat on the closed toilet lid, looking at her reflection, prosthetic leg visible, stump covered in a soft compression sleeve.

Emily stood behind her, brushing out her partner’s hair with slow, rhythmic care. “You know what the worst part is?” Y/N said quietly.

Emily stilled. “What?”

“I thought... you might not love me the same.”

Emily kneeled, cupping her face. “Y/N Y/L/N, I made the decision to save your life. I will never stop loving you. Not like this. Not ever.” Y/N nodded, the tears coming without shame this time.

She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to Emily’s. “I’m scared I’ll never walk the same.”

“You don’t have to. You’ll walk different. But you’ll still move forward.”

In the days that followed, Y/N began to practice walking in the hallway, Emily shadowing her like a heartbeat.

In the weeks after, she walked to the mailbox by herself.

In the months after, she stood in front of Garcia’s camera, prosthetic and all, smiling with her whole heart as the team posed around her in a lopsided line of fierce, broken, healing people.

She was different now.

And Emily was still holding her hand.

[anything-pov]

Thank you that fic was amazing I like what you did with the Sleep App

It was a nice touch

Thanks! I’m glad you enjoyed it! I hope it helped, even a little :) Always remember my requests are open! Thank you! ☺️

[anything-pov]

Reader and Alex are in bed reader is little spoon Alex is behind them fast asleep

Reader decides this is the best time to confess some things to her

cutesie little thing like they were the one who ate the last slice of cheesecake and not Ethan

that while she was gone on a case they broke something of hers and had to drive 2.5 hrs away to get a new one

That Reader and Ethan(16) go out for sweet treats sometime without her

maybe that Reader finished a show they were watching together because Alex went on a case and the cliffhanger was to tempting

Maybe that they lied about not liking pickles on their first date

That maybe Alex should leave the baking to Reader because the last time she tried to bake something neither reader nor ethan could keep it down(spat it out behind her back)

about The One time Alex buttdailed reader while drunk and said some rlly embarrassing things about herself (couldn't think of anything make something up 🤷🏼‍���️)

that reader always falls asleep on purpose while they fold laundry because she hates that chore 

Readers favorite part of Alex that turns them on(random body part)

How much reader loves thier little family

then finally that reader is pregnant 🫣🫣🫣

at some point you can make Alex wake up maybe answers each thing(idk it might be to long)

Please and Thank you 

Enjoy :) Sorry for the delay, hope it helps!

The Confessions 🫣

The room was quiet, tucked under the hush of night. A soft rain tapped against the windowpane, low and steady, like a lullaby for the bones.

The only light came from the faint amber glow of the streetlamp outside, casting a warm halo over the bed. Alex was behind them, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other heavy and warm over Y/N's waist, her long fingers curled loosely at Y/N's stomach.

They breathed slow and deep, completely asleep. Her nose was pressed to the crook of Y/N's neck, their body curled around their partner like a shield.

Y/N stayed still, wide awake, eyes blinking into the dark. They could feel Alex’s steady heartbeat against their spine, could feel the soft twitch of Alex’s fingers every so often like she was dreaming.

They didn’t want to wake her. Which made it the perfect time to confess. They smiled softly, quietly, like they might start giggling but couldn’t risk it.

“Okay,” they whispered into the dark, “you better be asleep, Professor Blake.” Alex didn’t stir. Y/N nestled a little deeper into her arms, took a breath, and began, voice barely above a whisper.

“It was me. I ate the last piece of cheesecake. Not Ethan. He was covering for me because I bribed him with cookies.” They grinned, eyes crinkling in the dark, even though Alex couldn’t see.

“And… I broke that fancy crystal paperweight on your desk while you were in Chicago. The one from that linguistics conference in Geneva? I panicked and drove three hours to a weird little antique store just to find one that looked almost the same. You haven’t noticed. Or you did and you’re just waiting to use it against me in some kind of verbal duel.”

Still nothing from Alex. “I love that Ethan covers for me, by the way. We go out for sweet treats when you’re gone sometimes. Doughnuts, milkshakes… there’s this little French place near the bookstore. He tells me the weirdest facts. It’s our thing. He’s got your dry humor and it kills me every time.”

Y/N sighed, one hand sliding down to gently hold the one Alex had draped over their belly. “I also… might’ve finished that show we were watching together. You were away for a week and the cliffhanger was mean, Alex. I couldn't wait. But I acted shocked when we watched it again. Emmy-worthy performance, if you ask me.”

They winced slightly, still whispering. “Also, I lied on our first date. I do like pickles. I just didn’t want to be one of those people who steals them off someone else’s plate. Which I absolutely am now. You should start charging me per pickle.”

A pause. “Oh, and baby? You need to stop baking. That lemon tart you made last month? Ethan and I spat it out behind your back and blamed the dog. He wasn’t even in the house.”

They could feel Alex’s breath shift against their skin, but no movement. Y/N smiled again, fond and hopeless.

“You also once butt-dialed me after that night out with Reid and Rossi. You were so drunk. You told Penelope you wanted to be a detective in a noir film, with a trench coat and a French accent. You also said, and I quote, ‘Y/N's hips are illegal in most countries.’”

They paused. “I saved the voicemail.” A longer breath. Their voice softened. “I fall asleep on purpose when we fold laundry. I hate it. I fake the yawn, I close my eyes, and I let you tuck a blanket over me so I don’t have to pair socks. I’m not sorry.”

They turned their head slightly, just enough to whisper closer to Alex’s skin. “My favorite part of you? The dip in your collarbone, right here...” they brushed it gently, careful not to wake her.

“...turns me on like crazy. I don’t know why. I just always want to kiss it.”

Alex’s arm tightened slightly, instinctive maybe. Still asleep. Y/N smiled again, this time more tender than playful.

“I love our little family. You. Ethan. The way we do mornings and weekends and arguments about whose turn it is to vacuum. I love the quiet, the messy, the laughter, the way you leave notes in my books. I love us.”

They swallowed, their voice thinning. “And…” they whispered, exhaling slowly, “…we’re not gonna be a little family much longer.” Alex didn’t move. “I’m pregnant,” Y/N said into the dark.

Their voice was almost a tremble. “You don’t know yet. I was waiting. I wanted it to be special. But now I’m here in your arms, and you’re warm and safe and you, and I can’t hold it in anymore.”

They felt their own tears prick. Not sadness. Not fear. Just everything. “I’m pregnant, Alex. We’re having a baby.” Alex shifted slightly in her sleep, nuzzling in a bit closer.

Her hand splayed wider across Y/N's belly, resting gently, unknowingly, over where that tiny life had begun. Y/N held it there, covered Alex’s hand with their own, and let themself smile as tears slid silently down their cheeks.

“Goodnight, mama,” they whispered. “We’ve got a lot to tell you in the morning.”

- - -

Alex stretched before her eyes even opened, her body stiff but content. Her hand reached across the bed instinctively, fingers brushing against warm skin, Y/N.

Still asleep, tucked into their pillow, hair messy and lips parted. They looked innocent. Too innocent. Alex blinked, eyes adjusting, and reached for her phone on the nightstand.

Notifications stacked neatly: work emails, a reminder for groceries, and...

Sleep App: Significant movement detected – 2:27 AM Audio Recorded: Tap to listen

Her brows furrowed. She clicked the file. There was a soft rustle. A sleepy breath. Then, Y/N's voice, quiet, gentle, whispering into the dark.

“Okay… you better be asleep, Professor Blake…” Alex froze, listening more closely to her phone. “It was me. I ate the last piece of cheesecake. Not Ethan.” Her lips parted.

“And… I broke that fancy crystal paperweight on your desk while you were in Chicago…” Alex sat bolt upright. “Oh my god,” they muttered. Y/N stirred beside her, groaning sleepily.

“Mmm... what’re you doing?” Alex didn’t answer. She was still listening. “We go out for sweet treats when you’re gone sometimes… he tells me the weirdest facts…”

Y/N blinked their eyes open slowly, blinking up at the ceiling. Their stomach sank. “Wait. What are you...”

“Y/N. Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.”

Uh-oh. Y/N flinched, voice still husky from sleep. “You full-named me. That’s not good.” Alex turned, holding up the phone like it was a piece of damning evidence.

“You confessed to like ten crimes in your sleep. And my sleep app ratted you out.”

“Oh god.” Y/N buried their face in their pillow. “No. Nooo…” Alex hit play again, skipping ahead...

“That lemon tart you made last month? Ethan and I spat it out behind your back…” Y/N groaned into the mattress. “Please delete me.”

“Nope,” Alex said, utterly calm. “This is evidence. I’m backing it up. Maybe we’ll play it at our wedding.”

“We’re already married,” Y/N groaned.

“Well then maybe I’ll play it at the next faculty dinner.”

Y/N flopped dramatically onto their back, hands over their face, red with embarrassment. “I can’t believe I got caught by a sleep app.” Alex was trying not to laugh. She really was.

“You confessed to finishing the show, hating folding laundry, and loving pickles.” Alex tried to remain serious. Y/N muttering into the air, “Okay, that one you should’ve figured out. Who says no to pickles?”

Alex gave them a mock-offended look. “I trusted you. I shared my fries with you.” Y/N reached for her, pulling a pillow to their chest like a shield. “Please stop listening now.”

Alex was smiling, but it softened when the last part of the recording began to play. “I love our little family…” Alex stilled. “And… we’re not gonna be a little family much longer…”

Y/N sat up suddenly, heart hammering, but it was too late. Alex was staring at the phone, frozen. “I’m pregnant, Alex. We’re having a baby.”

The silence that followed felt eternal. Y/N's voice cracked. “Alex…” Alex turned slowly to look at them, eyes wide.

“Is it true?”

Y/N's hand came to their belly unconsciously, nodding. “I was gonna tell you today. I just... I don’t know. I was nervous. I wanted it to be… more special than me whispering it in the dark.”

Alex didn’t speak. She reached out, cupping Y/N's face with one hand, her thumb brushing over their cheek as her other hand moved to cover Y/N's on their stomach.

“You think that wasn’t special?” she whispered. Her voice trembled. “I got to hear you tell our baby you love them before you even told me.”

Y/N's eyes filled. “You’re not mad?” Alex smiled, soft, warm, teary. “I’m in love. With you. With this family. And now… this.” She leaned in, resting her forehead to Y/N's.

“I’m gonna buy that sleep app company a fruit basket.”

Y/N laughed through the tears. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Alex whispered, kissing them. “But I’m gonna be ridiculous with you. Always.”

[anything-pov]

Hi i just wanted to know the ETA of the fic i requested (Reader confessing things to Alex in her sleep)

I just had a really bad day today and would've loved to see it

I'm not trying to rush you at all

I love the work you do

Hope All is Well with you

I'll get it out within the next hour! Almost done! Just want to make sure it's perfect! Sorry that you had a bad day, and I hope that my fic lives up to your expectations and makes you feel a little better :)

[anything-pov]

Can you write Emily helping Reader with a clogged milk duct

(had a baby a week ago?)

The Clogged Duct 😬

The night was quiet, for once. Their daughter, Grace, had finally gone down for more than an hour, swaddled, fed, and with that tiny fist curled against her cheek.

Emily Prentiss had never known silence could feel so delicate. Like any sudden sound might shatter the illusion of peace. She was halfway through brushing her teeth when she heard the soft, broken call from their bedroom.

"Em..."

The tremble in Y/N's voice pulled her instantly. She dropped her toothbrush into the sink and padded barefoot across the hall. The room was dim, only the soft flow of the nightlight painting the room.

Y/N was sitting upright on the bed, one hand curled protectively around her left breast, the other bracing her against the mattress. Her eyes were damp.

"It hurts," she whispered, "It's so blocked... I've tried massaging, pumping. Nothing's working." Emily crossed the room in three quick strides, settling beside her without hesitation.

She gently touched Y/N's knee, grounding her first. "Okay," she said softly, "Let me help, baby." Y/N gave a shaky nod, blinking against fresh tears.

"It's hot and it's sore... and I-I feel like I've failed already. It's only been a week." Y/N whimpered, tears pooling and gently falling. "Hey. No," Emily said immediately, brushing a piece of damp hair from her partner's cheek.

“You’re feeding our baby with your body. You’re doing something incredible. This is just… a bump. One we’ll handle together.” Emily kissed her forehead, then her temple, “Let’s fix this.”

Y/N let out a breath and leaned into her for just a moment. They moved to the bathroom where Emily ran a clean towel under warm water, wrung it out, then carefully folded it.

When she pressed it to Y/N's breast, she watched her partner flinch, then relax slightly into the warmth. “You’re sure?” Emily asked. “I read I can try to help manually if you’re okay with that."

Y/N nodded, cheeks flushed. “I trust you. I just… I really need this to stop hurting.” Emily sat on the edge of the tub, focused and gentle as she worked.

Her touch was clinical, but laced with the kind of care only someone madly in love could offer. She used her knuckles and thumbs just like the guides had said, working slowly from behind the clog toward the nipple, in tiny, steady circles.

She could feel the tension in Y/N's thighs, the tremble in her legs. “I’m here,” Emily whispered. “Just breathe. You’re safe.” Tears pricked Y/N's eyes again, but for a different reason now.

Minutes passed. The warmth of the compress, the firm and loving massage, and eventually, finally, a sudden release. A slow, startling flow.

Y/N let out a noise somewhere between relief and disbelief, her shoulders collapsing forward. “Oh my god,” she murmured, laughing and crying all at once. “It’s working. Emily... it’s working.”

Emily smiled, brushing a kiss to her partner’s shoulder. “Of course it is. I’ve got you.” When it was done, when Y/N had cleaned up and nestled back under the covers, Emily returned with a fresh glass of water, a new towel, and a heating pad.

“You are,” she said, brushing her fingers over Y/N's hair, “the strongest person I’ve ever known. You don’t have to do this alone. Not ever.” Y/N blinked slowly, already half-asleep.

“I know,” she whispered, “I married you.”

Emily climbed in beside her, pulling her close, one hand resting protectively over Y/N's belly, the other brushing against her healing chest.

Outside, the world kept turning. But here, in this quiet room with a sleeping baby in the next, love looked like warm compresses and whispered comfort in the dark.

And Emily wouldn’t have it any other way.

[anything-pov]

I just saw TikTok of this and now I kinda wanna read a fic of it

Emily X reader please and thank you

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8ryLjKV/

you could change up this scenario/where they are but I feel like this would be so cute

Enjoy! (Quick disclaimer: I do not have POTS, nor do I know enough about it as I should, but I hope my depictions are accurate, and if they are not, please, let me know and I can change them to portray accurate representation!)

Out of Fuel ⛽️

The lights were dimmed low in the BAU conference room, the air still heavy with the weight of the case they’d just wrapped.

A local abduction case, resolved quickly, but brutal. They’d saved the kid, but no one was walking away untouched.

Emily sat at the head of the table, her usual authority settled in the way her arms crossed over the manila file on the tabletop.

But beside her, just slightly angled toward the board, was Y/N. Young, brilliant and quietly sharp in the way Emily adored, her girlfriend and one of the Bureau’s rising stars.

She rarely spoke in these meetings unless directly asked, but her notes were always pristine, her insights laser precise.

Y/N was focused, but something shifted. Emily caught it. It started in her shoulders, a slow slouch that wasn’t casual.

Then her hand, which had been wrapped neatly around a pen, twitched. Not a normal twitch. A POTS twitch. Emily’s eyes snapped down to her.

Y/N blinked slower than she should’ve. Her skin, usually flushed with the faintest nervous pink when under pressure, drained to a too pale shade.

Emily uncrossed her arms. “Em?” Spencer asked, confused as Emily suddenly pushed back her chair. “Y/N,” Emily said gently, already reaching for her, “you with me?”

Y/N’s head tipped toward her just slightly, eyes dazed. “Mmhm,” she tried to say, but it came out paper thin. The spinning office chair wasn’t safe now.

Emily moved fast, one arm under Y/N’s back, the other gently under her knees as she guided her down. “Okay, love. Floor. Let’s go to the floor. C’mon.”

The whole team stood in a split second. “She okay?” Morgan asked, already halfway around the table. “POTS episode,” Emily said quickly, her voice calm but tight, “She’s about to faint.”

As Y/N’s body gave out, Emily caught her fully, lowering her to the floor with practiced ease. She'd done this before. Too many times. "JJ-"

"I've got her legs," JJ said, already crouched, gently lifting Y/N's feet to rest on her own thighs, elevating them, "I've got you, Y/N/N." Y/N's body trembled once, then again.

A few muscle spasms, her body doing that desperate, silent fight Emily had learned to hate. The spasms never lasted long, but they were a cruel flash of just how little control Y/N had over her own blood flow.

Her chest rose with shallow, inconsistent breaths. Emily kept one hand under Y/N's head, cushioning it from the hard floor. The other hovered over her pulse point, fingers finding the thready beat.

"C'mon, honey... ride it out, slow... love." The team gave space but stayed close. "She had one earlier this morning," Emily said, her voice low but honest, "I was hoping she'd rest up enough after, but..."

"Second one's always worse," JJ murmured, hand still gently supporting Y/N's calves. And then... Y/N stirred. Her eyes opened slowly, heavy, almost like it hurt.

She blinked once, then again. Her lips parted, breath raspy, but she didn't speak. Emily leaned down, brushing sweaty hair from her forehead, voice barely above a whisper now.

"I know," she said, soft as a secret, "Second one's the worst. You're out of fuel, huh?" Emily kissed her girlfriend's forehead. Y/N's eyes filled slightly, not quite with tears, but exhaustion, the ache of her own body betraying her in front of a room of people she admired.

Emily pressed her forehead to Y/N's, just for a second. "Hey. No shame. You're safe. We've got you, love." Y/N couldn't speak. But she blinked slow and grateful, her fingers barely twitching against Emily's arm.

"She needs sugar," Garcia said, already rustling in her purse, "I've got juice... juice and granola bars. Always do." She rambles, her hands scrambling to her pockets and purse.

"Garcia, you're a saint," Emily said. Spencer nodded, "And once she can sit upright, she should stay reclined for at least fifteen more minutes."

"I'll take her home after this," Emily said, voice already moving into resolution, "She's done for the day." The team stayed in quiet formation, not a single person moving to resume the debrief.

Y/N, pale and boneless in Emily's arms, finally managed a small exhale, like she could rest now, safely tethered to the one person who never let go.

And Emily just kept whispering, "I've got you, Y/N. I always will, love."

[anything-pov]

no need to apologize for taking a break!!! i hope you are doing well <3 (not the same anon that sent the other ask) take as much time as you need :)

Thank you! Doing better now! Just the usual cons of the tism, just love it sometimes! 🤣 Thank you! I should be back to sending them out periodically by tomorrow! 👍

[anything-pov]

Any new fics coming??? I've been re reading your fics all weekend

Yes! Soon! I’ve had a rough few days mentally so fics have been being written slower than usual. But we should be back to regular programming by tomorrow or the day after! Apologies! Thanks for everyone’s patience!

🙂

[anything-pov]

Tuesday art x

[anything-pov]

plus size reader x alex blake

fluffy

showering together

being moms alex's son

Enjoy :)

The Shower 🚿

The soft patter of rain tapped against the skylight, gentle and rhythmic, a lullaby over the warmth of the house.

The world outside was gray, but inside the master bathroom, steam curled through the air in swirls, warm and inviting.

Y/N stood under the stream of the shower, her eyes fluttering closed, letting the water ease into her shoulders. Her curls were pinned up lazily, her body relaxed and heavy in the way that only love made possible.

The glass fogged around her, the scent of eucalyptus and Alex’s shampoo swirling together in the steam. Her hands moved slowly, methodically, as she rubbed conditioner through the ends of her hair.

The shower door opened quietly.

“Room for one more?” Alex’s voice was a familiar hush, rough from sleep and deepened with affection. She was already undressed, towel draped over the nearby hook.

Hair slightly tousled from their morning in bed. Y/N smiled softly, stepping aside. “Always.” Alex stepped in, and immediately her hands found Y/N's waist, pressing gently as she leaned in to kiss the slope of her shoulder.

“God, you’re warm,” she mumbled, forehead resting against the curve of Y/N's neck. “And soft. My favorite.” Y/N chuckled, the sound light and warm in the fog. “You say that like it’s new information.”

“It’s not. Just worth repeating.” They moved together in the way only people who knew each other’s rhythms could. Alex reached for the sponge while Y/N handed her the body wash.

Alex’s hands were slow, reverent as she ran the suds along Y/N's back and over the generous curve of her hips, pressing loving kisses in the spaces between.

“You work so hard,” Alex murmured, gently massaging circles into Y/N's shoulders. “You love so much. You carry so much.” Her voice cracked softly as she whispered, “Let me take some of it today.”

Y/N's eyes burned with sudden emotion. She turned, meeting Alex’s gaze. “I don’t have to do it alone anymore. Not with you. Not with Ethan.”

Alex’s eyes softened at the mention of her son. “You’ve been more than just a partner, Y/N. You’re… the only person who ever made him feel like it was okay to be sensitive. You’re his safe place.”

Y/N cupped Alex’s jaw, brushing her thumbs over her cheekbones. “And you’re mine.” They stood like that for a while, bodies close under the stream, foreheads pressed together, water cascading around them like a cocoon.

Later, wrapped in towels and warmth, they padded into the kitchen. Ethan was already at the table, messy-haired and still in his pajamas, scribbling something into his sketchbook with a quiet hum.

He looked up, sleepy and content. “Pancakes?” he asked. “Coming right up,” Y/N said, moving toward the stove. “I’ll do the batter,” Alex offered, brushing a kiss to the top of Ethan’s head, then reaching for the mixing bowl.

The boy looked between them, a small grin tugging at his lips, “You guys are, like… gross in love.” Y/N laughed, “Only a little.” Ethan smirked, “It’s okay. I like it.”

He went back to drawing, and the kitchen filled with the sound of sizzling butter, quiet laughter, and the comfort of a home built on love, second chances, and mornings exactly like this.

And for Alex, watching Y/N flip pancakes in her oversized robe while Ethan leaned comfortably against the counter, this was everything. This was safe. This was family.

[anything-pov]

EMILY PRENTISS (in glasses!) Criminal Minds 18.06 | Hell is Empty…

[anything-pov]

HOLY SHIT. That's all I got.

Ep200 - markers

[anything-pov]

I’m not the original requester but I really liked The Famous Sweatshirt and was wondering if you’ll do a pt 2??

Enjoy :) hehe...

Pt. 2 of the Famous Sweatshirt ❄️

The coffee was easy. Quiet. Warm. They sat just beyond the glass doors of Quantico, the spring sun trickling through the overcast sky, not quite enough to chase away the lingering chill.

Emily handed Y/N a steaming paper cup, her order, just how she took it. Not because she’d asked, but because Emily had noticed. She noticed everything about her.

Y/N sipped carefully, both hands wrapped around the cup, Emily’s sweatshirt hanging loose and heavy on her frame. The sleeves swallowed her hands, and every few seconds, she’d tug one back down with a bashful look.

Emily watched from the corner of her eye, pretending to scroll her phone while her mind was already spinning on how easily she’d fallen into this quiet fondness.

“I know the team can be a lot,” Emily said, after a long silence. “They mean well, but… they’re loud. Especially Morgan.” Y/N smiled, a real one, shy but lingering.

“They’re great,” she said softly. “I’m just not really good at…” She trailed off, looking down at her cup again. Emily hummed, “Small talk?” Y/N chuckled, “Or existing in loud rooms.”

Emily’s smile grew. “Me neither. But you get used to it. Or… at least you find someone to hide with.” Y/N glanced at her. She wasn’t bold, but there was something in her gaze. “Would you be that person?”

Emily’s heart kicked. She gave a casual shrug, lips twitching. “I could be convinced.”

- - -

That night...

The team took over a corner booth at their usual bar. Low light. Old brick walls. The kind of place with a jukebox and drinks poured too generously.

Garcia was already two cocktails deep, Spencer was nursing his whiskey, and Morgan was trying to convince Rossi to dance to Stevie Wonder.

JJ leaned into the bar, sipping something pink with a slice of lime, watching as Emily strolled in, dark jeans, soft black tee under a blazer, eyes sharp as ever.

But it wasn’t her entrance that got attention. It was who was beside her. Y/N, in jeans and boots, her hair down for the first time since anyone could remember, Emily’s sweatshirt still worn despite the better outfit underneath.

It hung off her shoulders with familiarity. Ownership, even. Emily led her in with a hand just behind her back, a guiding touch that Y/N clearly leaned into.

The team greeted her warmly. JJ scooted over to give her space, and Morgan raised his drink. “Y/L/N! You do exist after hours.” Y/N blushed, but Emily leaned in and whispered something into her ear, just enough to make Y/N smile through it.

They sat side by side, close, almost too close. And the longer they stayed, the easier it got. Emily loosened up with each drink. So did Y/N.

It was subtle. Emily’s fingers brushing over the back of Y/N’s hand during a story from Tara. A smile shared just between them. Emily’s palm finding Y/N’s knee under the table, resting gently there.

Y/N didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. If anything, she tilted toward it, cheeks glowing pink under the dim lights.

Later, when the music kicked up, Garcia shrieked for everyone to dance. Emily stayed back at first, but when Y/N’s eyes flicked to the movement, her lip tucked between her teeth like she wanted to but didn’t dare...

Emily stood and extended a hand. “Dance with me.” Y/N stared. “I’ll keep you in the corner. Out of the spotlight,” Emily added, smiling soft. “Promise.”

Y/N’s fingers reached for hers. They danced just barely swaying, tucked into a quiet alcove off the main floor, Emily’s hand at the small of her back, Y/N’s arms shyly over Emily’s shoulders.

It was gentle, intimate, Emily resting her forehead to Y/N’s for just a second, her breath warm where their skin brushed. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to.

Emily’s thumb traced the hem of the sweatshirt where it met Y/N’s hip, and when she tilted her head slightly, asking permission without words, Y/N gave the smallest nod.

They kissed there, just once, soft and lingering. But it wasn’t enough. Emily leaned in, her voice husky in Y/N’s ear. “Come with me.” Y/N’s breath hitched. She followed without a word.

- - -

The bathroom was empty. Just dim bulbs buzzing faintly and the steady pulse of music through tile and mortar. Emily locked the door behind them with practiced ease.

Y/N leaned against the sink, eyes wide, lips parted. Emily moved slowly, deliberately, like every step was a question. “You okay?” she asked, just inches from her.

Y/N nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “Yeah…” Emily reached out, fingertips brushing Y/N’s jaw, her cheek, the side of her neck. Y/N leaned into the touch.

“You sure?” Emily asked again, softer. Y/N’s eyes closed. “I want to kiss you.” That was all Emily needed. She kissed her like she’d been waiting for this all her life.

No hesitation now. Emily’s hands cradled Y/N’s face, holding her like she was something breakable and holy. Y/N responded with quiet fervor, fingers grasping at Emily’s waist, unsure where to hold, what to do, but Emily didn’t mind. She guided. She kissed deeper.

Y/N made a soft, desperate sound into her mouth, and Emily shuddered. Her hands moved to Y/N’s hips, pulling her gently off the sink, pinning her back against the wall with just enough pressure to make her gasp.

Their mouths slanted and slid, tongues brushing. Y/N’s knees wobbled. Emily’s body caged her in.

But it was safe, so safe, and when Y/N whimpered against her lips, Emily pulled back just enough to whisper, “I’ve got you, sweetheart. You don’t have to rush.”

Y/N nodded, breath ragged. Emily leaned back in, kissing the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, then the spot beneath her ear that made Y/N gasp and shiver again.

It wasn’t sex. It wasn’t even close. It was better. It was the kind of kissing that made time fall away. That left lips swollen and breath caught.

Emily never once let Y/N feel like she had to perform. She kissed her like worship. Like reverence. She whispered into her skin, “You can have slow, you can have gentle. We don’t have to leave this room until you feel ready.”

Y/N nodded into her shoulder. “This is… already everything.” Emily kissed her again, forehead, temple, lips, slowly easing her back into steadiness.

When they finally emerged, hands brushed but didn’t part. And no one at the table said a word about how Y/N’s hair was slightly mussed or how Emily couldn’t quite stop smiling.

Because for once, even Y/N didn’t mind being seen.

[anything-pov]

ok so

Reader is that the bar where the BAU frequence after cases

They haven't been introduced to the team as yet due to scheduling conflicts

The Bau just got off a case and goes to the bar to unwind

Emily goes home to change first because her clothes got messed up

When she returns she see Derek flirting with her gf

She intrups

Jealousy takes over

(reader gets fucked in the bathroom)

introductions are had

Tribbing happens when they get home 🤭🤭

ENJOY :)

Jealousy Bang 😈

The bar is low-lit, warm, and humming with weekend noise. It’s been weeks of back-to-back cases, and finally, the BAU team got a quiet stretch.

A well-earned night off. Drinks. Laughter. And for once, Emily Prentiss had something personal to look forward to: introducing her. Y/N had arrived early, as planned.

She sat perched at the end of the booth, whiskey in hand, dark grey slacks cuffed above polished boots, and a fitted oxblood shirt that pulled just right across her chest.

Short dark hair, rings on nearly every finger, and an easy, crooked smile, she drew attention the second she stepped inside. Emily texted her she’d be a little late, quick stop at home to change.

Nothing major. Except when she returned to the bar twenty minutes later, she walked into exactly what she didn’t want to see. Derek Morgan, ever the charmer, leaned against the booth, grinning like he had all night to flirt.

Y/N laughed at something he said, hand around her drink, chin tilted. Emily didn’t even think. She slid beside Y/N and pressed a kiss just below her ear.

“Hey, baby,” she murmured low enough for only them to hear. Her hand found Y/N's thigh, firm and possessive. Y/N's breath caught, sharp and quiet. She turned slightly toward her. “You’re late.”

“And you’re letting Morgan make you laugh.” Derek raised his brows, “Wait, this is your girl?” Emily smiled, sharp and satisfied, “The one and only.”

Y/N gave a lazy, amused smile, “Hey, Derek. I was being polite.” Emily squeezed her thigh under the table. Hard. Y/N's hips shifted. “Bathroom,” Emily said, mouth brushing Y/N's ear again. “Now.”

- - -

They barely made it.

The second the door shut, Emily shoved Y/N back against the stall wall, lips crashing into hers. Y/N gasped but didn’t fight it, only groaned as Emily’s hand snuck between her legs.

“You like that?” Emily growled, “You like having men flirt with you in bars when you’re mine?” Y/N's nails bit into Emily’s shoulders, “Love, you were late.”

“I’m going to make sure you never forget who you belong to.” Emily kissed her hard, biting. Then her hand was down the front of Y/N's slacks, fingers already wet with slick heat.

She worked quick, precise, two fingers curling deep, thumb pressing hard circles, hips grinding forward. Y/N shuddered. “Fuck, Em...”

“Eyes on me.” Y/N's head thunked back against the stall. Emily growled again, curling her fingers cruelly. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” Y/N gasped. “Always.” Emily kissed her until she came apart with a muffled cry against her shoulder.

Ten minutes later, they returned to the booth. Y/N's shirt was a little wrinkled, her eyes hazy. Emily was smug and glowing. The team noticed, but no one said a word.

“Hi,” Y/N said, smoothing her shirt and sitting beside Garcia. “Sorry about earlier. That was… a little chaotic.” Garcia grinned. “You’re hot, it’s fine. Derek flirts with anything warm-blooded and confident. I’m Garcia.”

“Tara,” came the smooth voice from across the table. “Nice to finally meet you.” Emily hovered behind Y/N, hands on her shoulders, thumbs brushing gentle circles.

Y/N relaxed more and more as she talked to the women, sipping from a drink Garcia pushed her way. They hit it off fast, books, music, mutual disdain for unseasoned fries.

After a while, Emily leaned down and whispered, “Wanna head home?” Y/N glanced up. Her eyes sparkled. “Thought you’d never ask.”

- - -

The door barely closed behind them before Emily was pressing Y/N up against it again, this time slower. More deliberate. They kissed deep and long. Emily’s jacket hit the floor, and Y/N's boots followed.

They didn’t make it to the bedroom. The couch would do. Emily tugged off her own jeans, then Y/N's slacks, sliding her hands down Y/N's thighs. “Lay back,” she said, voice thick.

Y/N obeyed. Emily climbed over her, straddling her thigh, skin on skin, flushed and slick and already shaking. She grabbed the base of Y/N's jaw, pulling her into another kiss as their hips began to roll together.

Tribbing was always like this, messy, close, desperate. Hot skin, clit to clit, thigh to thigh. Emily's mouth stayed on Y/N's, gasping when their rhythm matched just right.

They gripped each other hard, slick thighs sliding, hips grinding faster. Y/N's nails raked down her back. “Fuck-yes-don’t stop...”

“Look at me,” Emily panted, forehead pressed to hers. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Y/N whispered, lips shaking. “God... Emily-”

They came seconds apart, hands gripping, moans caught in each other’s mouths. Emily collapsed against her, legs trembling, chest heaving.

They stayed like that, wrapped up, the night humming outside, warm and close inside.

Emily kissed her collarbone, then her neck, then her jaw. “Next time,” she whispered, “you flirt back again, I’ll take you right there on the damn bar.”

Y/N smiled, breathless. “Promise?”

Emily just smirked. “Always.”

[anything-pov]

Heyyy so i love your stories and your writings and i wondered if i could request something…

So i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of jj being reader’s gf but the team doesn’t really know or sth but reader is part of the team and has those hella cool tattoos all over but other than jj nobody knows because reader doesn’t show off mostly

And one random day (maybe bc it’s a hot day?) reader’s wearing short sleeves or a tank top or something and the team just stares and jj’s comments sth like “oh you didn’t know?” or “that’s my girlfriend” and the team is even more stunned

That would be really cool:)

If you don’t have time I completely understand it and if you do it have fun writing:))

Ps.: sorry if my english is not the best it ain’t my mother language sorryyy

Enjoy!

Too Hot to Care 🔥

The BAU bullpen was sweltering. The AC had died overnight, turning Quantico's most intense floor into a slow-cooked pressure cooker. Fans hummed desperately, paperwork stuck to limbs, sweat stains.

Y/N was the newest profiler on the team. She was dedication and hushed observation, with a knack for parsing nuance in interrogation tapes and a record for being consistently ten steps ahead.

Her usual attire was a heavy hoodie, dark jeans, and gloves during field ops, even when it seemed illogical. What little skin anyone saw, tattoos curling over her knuckles and a script that peeked beneath the back of her neck, was intriguing but never questioned.

She never gave a reason for hiding anything, and the team respected her privacy. Until today.

The heat had become unbearable. Y/N had tried, god, she had tried, to push through it. But by noon, even she was slick with sweat, eyes heavy, and her grey hoodie had soaked through at the seams.

She gave in silently, slipping into the locker room. And when she came back out, the bullpen fell into stunned silence. Y/N's black tank top clung to her like armor, and the tattoos were everywhere.

Up her arms, curling over her collarbones, slithering across her shoulders, and down her chest. Inked script in multiple languages. Full blackwork on one shoulder.

A sprawling, detailed pair of angel wings tattooed down the blades of her back. Wolves running in silhouette, constellations in stark white ink, storm clouds with thunderbirds arcing across them.

Her neck tattoos now clearly fed into the entire piece. Art on skin. Purpose. Pain. Power. Hotch blinked. Tara lowered her coffee. Spencer’s mouth actually dropped open.

Luke sat up straighter, confused. Garcia, visiting for a minute, blinked and whispered, “Is that...? Is that legal?” Rossi just said, “Well, damn.” And then JJ, seated casually near the whiteboard with a case file in hand, let out a low whistle she didn’t mean to be audible.

“That’s my girlfriend,” she muttered with a smirk, eyes raking shamelessly down Ren’s inked arms. The whole team turned. Ren, mid-step, froze. JJ realized what she’d said a beat too late.

Garcia gasped. “YOU'RE... REN'S... OH MY GOD.” Luke looked between them. “Wait. What? Since when?” Emily leaned against her desk, arms folded, mouth twitching into a smile.

“Let me get this straight: you’ve both been hiding this from us for how long?” Emily pondered, JJ looked unapologetic now, standing and crossing the room to Ren.

She pressed a quick, soft kiss to her cheek. “Eight months. Give or take.” Y/N gave JJ a look, half fond, half exasperated, as she muttered, “You weren’t supposed to say anything.”

“It was hot, babe,” JJ shrugged, “I panicked.” Rossi laughed, “I’ll allow it.” Spencer looked baffled. “Is... is your entire back tattooed too?”

“Yes,” Y/N said dryly, “And no, I’m not showing it. This is a federal building.” Emily chuckled, “Damn shame.” Garcia squealed, already grabbing her phone.

“I knew there was tension. I knew it. You didn’t hide it as well as you thought, you sneaky ink goddess.” Garcia rambled. Tara smiled, raising her coffee in salute, “Honestly, it’s a power couple move. Well done.”

Y/N raised a brow, expression unreadable. “So… you’re not weirded out?” JJ slipped an arm around her waist. “No, baby. They’re just impressed I landed you.”

And from the way the team nodded, murmured, or gave appreciative glances, there was no denying it. They were impressed. JJ just grinned, leaning up to whisper, “You’re still not taking that tank top off, though. That ink’s just for me.”

Y/N smirked. “Deal. But only if you buy me lunch.”

“You drive,” JJ said. “I want to show off.”

And with that, the team got back to work, just a little sweatier, and a lot more curious.

[anything-pov]

Is there anyway you could put all these one shots you've wrote into an Ao3 multi chapter fic

like post all of them on Ao3 in one big fic of one shots????? each chapter is a different fic

it's kinda hard to scroll bck in ur post to find a fic i want to reread

it's no big deal if u can't

Okay, I've just started transferring them, it may take me awhile to get them from one to another but it's happening! Enjoy! It's under 'Tumblr Oneshots :)' on my AO3 account.

Or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66199216/chapters/170636188

😊😁