I’m Eden, 23 years old, she/they, and this is my blog for all things Criminal Minds!
I only joined the fandom recently — even though I’ve seen all the seasons, I hadn’t been participating in any content actively.
That is, until now!
Currently, my main ship is ʜᴏᴛᴄʜʀᴇɪᴅ, and if I’m not thinking about both of these idiots, I spend my days staring at pictures of Spencer/MGG.
remember that episode where reid and prentiss went undercover to this religious farm thing posing as two social workers? after a news broadcast, the leader realized that one of them was an fbi agent and questioned them, pointing a gun at reid, ready to shoot him. and emily admitted to being the fbi agent. and, sure, it was always very significant, but it became so much more so when the lauren reynolds storyline was revealed. because it showed us that emily was not only an agent—she was, first and foremost, a spy. she lived a whole life undercover. she could’ve easily talked her way out of the leader’s suspicions, and she would have if it wasn’t for reid & her desire to keep him safe and unharmed.
when emily was being beaten later and kept repeating “i can take it” all over again, the BAU team should’ve known emily didn’t become a profiler after a desk job. she was already a fighter, and she was already a spy long before she transferred to the BAU.
like idk how to break this to you but most of the time straight men are homophobic and misogynistic because they hate gay people and women, not because they're secretly gay
that's not to say gay men can't be misogynistic, god knows I've met plenty of gay men who fucking hate women, but let's be real here: you are not criticizing misogyny in the gay community when you make jokes about trump and putin blowing each other. you are using (imaginary) gay sex as a form of humiliation. you are no different than middle schoolers using "gay" as a synonym for "stupid" or "lame".
Author’s Note: Lunch is the perfect lesbian hymn to write about Emily Prentiss. I may or may not have lost my mind while thinking about going down on Emily. I hope you guys enjoy! This is for the lovely anon who requested “more Emily Prentiss”.
Masterlist
Emily must have known exactly what she was doing when she put on a tight red dress tonight. She looked good in anything but seeing her in that color almost drove you insane. You were drawn to her like a honeybee desperate to find the sweet nectar of the most beautiful flower on earth.
There was no time to be wasted when she followed you inside your apartment after your date.
“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured before you captured her lips with yours.
The kiss was timid at first, soft and sweet. That changed once Emily pushed her body against yours. Her tongue slipped in your mouth when you sighed and you were happy to reciprocate her action. Deepening this kiss only ignited the flame that was already burning so hot inside you.
Your lips left her mouth to explore her neck instead and a shy moan slipped from her. Mesmerized by the sound, you gently bit down on her pulse point in hopes to hear it again. Another sigh and you were lost in the glory that was the woman in front of you.
Curious hands began exploring each other's bodies, pawing at soft curves and stroking over smooth fabric. It was not enough, though. One more kiss on her lips before you fell to your knees, ready to worship her fully. With widened eyes she watched you drag her dress up her thighs until the lace of her underwear was revealed.
“So eager,” she chuckled when you placed a soft kiss on her thigh and another one at the seam of her panties.
“Need to taste you,” you confessed before you let your tongue wander over the soft lace.
Emily placed her hand on your forehead and gently pushed you away from her, having you whine in protest.
“Why don’t we take this to your bedroom,” she suggested while pulling on your hand to help you get up. “That’s much more comfortable.”
There was no reason to dissent, so you led her to your bed. Emily’s hands felt warm and determined when she began undressing you layer after layer until you stood bare in front of her.
“You’re so pretty,” she breathed while letting her fingertips ghost over your skin.
Then, she shed her dress and let you watch as her underwear dropped to the floor as well. You couldn’t decide where to look first so you let your sight wander over her wicked grin, the swell of her breasts, her porcelain skin and the soft curls at her center.
Any restraint you still had broke when she closed the distance between the two of you. Her lips on yours were eager as she kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. You guided her onto the bed without breaking the kiss, hovering over her while wetness began pooling at your core.
Emily caressed your breasts. Her touch was welcomed but not what you craved right then. You were certain you would combust if you didn’t get to finally taste her. With a clear goal in mind, you let your mouth wander down her neck. Several kisses were placed on her breasts before you licked over her hardened peaks.
The way she arched her back was intoxicated and you were starting to feel light-headed. When you took her nipple in your mouth and gently sucked on it, the room filled with Emily’s moans. Already delirious, you descended further down her body.
Without hesitation Emily opened her legs for you, revealing herself. It was as if you were witnessing a blossom go in full bloom, silken petals kissed by morning dew, layered perfectly. Her heady scent was enchanting and you had no choice but to lay down to appease your appetite for her.
With precise motions you collected her honeyed wetness on your tongue, making her squirm underneath you. Taking your time, you explored her with your mouth to fully appreciate her uniqueness. Emily was getting impatient, though.
“Don’t tease me,” she sighed while placing her hand in your hair.
You couldn’t help but smile against her skin. One more kiss on her inner thigh and another one into her soft curls and then you began focusing your attention on her swollen bud. It took a few moments until you learned what exactly made her grind her hips against your face. WIth your arms hooked around her thighs you kept her steady.
When you closed your lips around her and gently sucked on her pearl, a fit of broken moans and sighs escaped Emily’s throat. Her arousal began coating your chin and you realized how your own wetness had begun dripping from your entrance. You couldn’t help but grind your hips against the mattress in a desperate attempt to find some friction.
A moan against Emily’s velvety folds gave away how much you enjoyed going down on her. She found your eyes and smirked at you.
“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” She teased and you hummed in response.
One of your hands moved from her thigh to her heat. You leaned back for a moment to let two of your fingers drag through her folds before gliding into her with ease. Her warmth enveloped you perfectly and there was no resistance from her body. You curled your fingers just enough to make her throw her head back into the pillows before you began thrusting into her.
“You taste like heaven,” you breathed before your mouth found her sensitive nub once more, licking and kissing and sucking it until her walls began fluttering around your fingers. A wet spot had formed on the mattress between your own thighs. Rolling your hips against the sheets some more soothed the burning sensation in your core. You tensed your thighs to intensify the sensation.
Emily fell apart with a loud cry, grinding her hips against your face almost erratically. When you felt her pulsing around your fingers, you couldn’t help but follow her into this sensation of pure bliss. With a tremble in your thighs you rocked your hips against the mattress until you came undone together with her.
You let Emily ride out her high on your tongue before you sat up between her knees and brought your fingers to your mouth to indulge in the taste of her release.
“Dirty girl,” she chuckled before reaching out her arms. “Come here.”
She welcomed you inside your embrace and gave you a sweet kiss, certainly tasting herself on your tongue. Then, she shifted her position until she was hovering over you. With a teasing grin spread over her face, she moved down your body and cooed, “My turn.”
Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!
Can i request marking Aaron up with lipstick marks. Like imagine leaving a trail of kisses from his neck all the way down his front. And if the lipstick is starting to fade, he'd reapply it for you so you could continue marking him 🤭
marked as mine
STOPPPP 😵💫🤭 cw; fem!reader, reader is slightly tipsy, established relationship, a touch of sub!aaron, language, very very very suggestive content nsfw minors dni wc; 1.3k
The two of you landed roughly against the front door. Aaron even more so, the thud of his weight hitting the wood and echoing down the empty hallway. You giggled loudly against his lips, buzzing from the champagne and infatuation.
"Shh sweetheart," Aaron laughed softly, peering around as if all your neighbors were out witnessing your late return. "The last thing we need are noise complaints."
You continued to cling onto him, your arms winding underneath his jacket and his button-up clasping in your fingers. You pressed him further against the surface, one of his legs slotting between yours. "So let 'em complain."
"At least let me open the door first," Aaron fumbled to get his keys out, reciprocating your very messy kisses and found his hands roaming your body instead. With the eager whimpers leaving the back of your throat egging him on, he could've taken you right there.
When the two of you managed to make it inside the apartment, you didn't get very far. Aaron fell back onto the couch, pulling you down with him, continuing to make out like a pair of horny teenagers.
"You looked beautiful tonight," Aaron commented when you pulled away with a heaving chest, his lips swollen. The two of you had spent the evening at some fancy FBI dinner, dressing up for the occasion. He reached up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. "I felt like the luckiest man there."
"Thank you." You sobered at the compliment, a sweet smile tugging onto your face.
He mirrored your smile, his hand enveloping your jaw to guide your lips back to his. He kissed you long and hard, enunciating the want pooling within you.
"Jack's not home," you reminded him, a wicked glint in your eyes. Jessica had graciously taken him off your hands for the night. "So you know what that means."
Aaron's hand found the zipper on the back of your dress, beginning to pull it down. The sudden exposure of cool air sent a shiver racing down your spine. "I think so."
"Nuh uh." He got about halfway before you grabbed ahold of his wrists, pinning them down at his sides. "Me first."
Your previous kisses had left a lipstick stain on his lips, tinting them a darker pink shade than their natural color. The sight ignited an idea.
You started below his ear, pressing short yet sensuous kisses to his skin, causing him to inhale sharply. Your lips trailed down the column of his neck, purposefully leaving the imprint of your lipstick.
"I don't think you noticed, but I saw a few women ogling you throughout the night. Maybe even some men too." The thought only produced more vigor to rush through you. More possession. "Can't say I blame them, but I'd thought I'd remind you who you actually belong to."
Aaron's suit jacket was soon tossed aside. You also did him the favor of removing his tie, and didn't stop there.
You unbuttoned his shirt painfully slow, looking up at him darkly through your lashes. He swallowed as he watched, anticipating your next move and resisting the urge to assist you - to speed things along.
But if your show was anything to go by, you intended on taking your time.
Resuming where you left off, you planted more kisses, your mouth lingering longer with each one you set. You could feel his heart racing under your palm, a steady thrum against his skin. It elevated when your lips reached his chest, his pec, and especially down his front, covering him all over.
You were moving slowly to deliberately to fuck with him, fully aware he would spiral into a whiny, frustrated mess as a result. Hot, impatient and bothered Aaron, one of your favorite things.
"Sweethear-"
You shushed him immediately, mumbling into his flushed skin, "Quiet. Every mark has to be perfect."
However, by the time you reached the middle of his abdomen your lipstick had gradually faded, leaving faint burgundy smudges behind - almost close to nothing.
"Wait-" Aaron blurted, causing you to stop and peer up at him. He reached towards the coffee table, a bit frantically as his fingers outstretched. "Hand me your bag."
Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, you fetched your purse for him, dropped in haste amidst earlier's heated entanglement. Knowing you kept it in your bag for reapplication throughout the night, Aaron quickly riffled through it, finding your lipstick in record time.
His mouth formed a smirk, his brown eyes molten. His tone was a little on the condensing side as he spoke, "Honey, what's the use if we can't see it?"
Again he cupped your jaw, his hold on you firm yet gentle as he began to reapply your lipstick. He did so carefully; beginning at the center of your upper lip and focusing on your Cupid's bow. Next, he blended the shade outward before moving onto the bottom, using the same method.
Gazing at him, he seemed to be enraptured by the process, especially with the reasoning being you were marking him as yours. His own furrowed brows relaxed the more he focused, his eyes warm with an intensity that softened with every passing moment.
This was the first time he had ever applied your lipstick, and it definitely would not be the last. And every time you wore this particular shade in the future, he would remember this intimate (and insanely sexy) moment.
You were sure to part your lips as he did so, keeping eye contact with him the whole time, playing up that look to drive him wild. One that read: I'm yours and I want you to do with me as you please.
"Fuck," Aaron mumbled. If he wasn't turned on already, he definitely was now. His thumb found your bottom lip, lingering a moment before he wiped below, a spot where it had smudged onto your skin.
You pressed your lips together for a second or two, evenly spreading the lipstick before they formed back into an 'o' shape.
His head dipped back momentarily, "You're killing me here."
Once he capped the lipstick, as a thank-you you pressed a kiss just below his belly button, leaving a prominent fresh stain. His abs jumped at your touch, and a sinful noise escaped from the depths of his throat.
You continued your trail of marks, and just by habit, his hand fell into your hair, gripping it and guiding you as you traveled further down his body. Aaron closed his eyes as his head hit the armrest of the couch again, savoring the feeling of your perfect lips against his skin, the constraint in his pants quickly growing uncomfortable.
Next your hands swiftly undid his belt buckle, pulling both his pants and boxers down. Not all the way though, just enough to leave a few more imprints, softly brushing your lips along his v-line. He picked his head up to glare when you didn't venture further, the thought of your freshly painted lips wrapped around him filling his mind. Aware of exactly what you were doing to him, you offered him a playful smirk in return.
Finished, you sat up to admire your work, being sure to rut your hips into his and causing a desperate groan to release from him. Sure enough, beginning from his ear and continuing all the way down, a perfect line of lipstick adorned his front. He was yours.
You reached for your bag yourself, grabbing your phone and snapping a few pictures for future enjoyment. A close up of his jaw, torso, lower abdomen.
Your finger traced the lowest one teasingly, which resulted in Aaron squirming slightly underneath you. Your eyes found his, and you found they were heavily dark with need.
"Sweetheart," he whined, his hips involuntary bucking upwards. "Please."
You leaned in closer, your bottom lip brushing against his earlobe, and whispering with a devilish satisfaction in your voice,
Summary: Spencer sees his significant other comforting a child and it makes him wonder.
A/N: Written for my best friend on her birthday.
Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader
Category: Comfort
Content Warning: Minor self-deprecation, implied difficult childhood, crying
Word Count: 1k
MASTERLIST
Spencer loves you every day. There is never a doubt or a hesitation. With each glance, he finds something new to add to the ever-growing list of reasons why he is right to love you.
But there are some moments where even he, in his seemingly infinite wisdom, is unable to put into words the way he feels when it comes to you. In those moments, all he can do is silently soak in the unknowing.
It was a quiet moment, all things considered. There was no more bad guys to be caught, no more bloodshed to be had. Still, there were tears, as there usually were when you were around.
It wasn’t your fault. You just have a way about you that makes people feel… loved. Sometimes for the first time.
Spencer peers through his open office door to find you. You are on your knees, eyes locked with the young boy standing in front of you.
His small body shakes with incoherent sobs. He is held steady only by your gentle hands cupping his face. Despite the sight, you are smiling. A calm, subtle curve that holds him up in another way.
From where he is, Spencer can’t hear your words. But he can still feel the relief. He finds himself mirroring you both, with deep inhales fighting against the knot his throat. The air comes out warm and trembling.
In that moment, as he watches you comfort something small, he is a little boy again. He is the one lifting his arms in a silent request to be loved in a simple way.
And he can feel it. He feels your arms as they wrap around the little boy and lift him gently from the ground.
The feeling is almost too much, but he doesn’t look away. He watches and waits patiently for you to let the little boy go.
He waits for you to notice, to quickly come to him before your own trembling hands are noticed by the boy being carried away to what Spencer still hopes will be a happily ever after.
Spencer watches you the entire time. His own mind races, struggling still to find words to explain the feeling in his chest.
He’d almost gotten it when you interrupt the thought with a laugh.
“What is it?” you ask.
Any eloquence vanishes and is replaced with a stammer.
“You’re uh… you’re good at that,” he says. "Comforting kids."
Somehow, it sounds better than it did in his head.
Unbeknownst to the depths of the compliment, you glance over your shoulder to see the boy still watching you.
You recognize the same expression on your lover’s face.
“Kids are easy to love,” you answer.
He accepts your humility. He meets the modesty with his own typical self-deprecation.
“You should’ve seen me as a kid.”
Beneath the words, you hear the uncertainty. That stubborn, relentless fear that there is something rotten to be found in his heart.
You narrow your eyes as you inspect him. His shoulders square under your scrutiny. You look at him, carefully reviewing each wrinkle and freckle. You tilt your head to look at him in another way.
And you find nothing at all rotten.
“I would’ve liked that,” you tell him in earnest.
Emboldened, but still afraid, Spencer dares to take another step forward.
“What do you think you would’ve said?” he says like it’s a joke.
This time, your pause is a couple beats longer.
You look at the man in front of you and try to imagine him with teeth too big for a tiny frame. You imagine unruly curls and thick, crooked glasses perched over innocent eyes.
You look at the man you love and you see it. A small boy staring up at you in his oversized suit. Always trying to be both smaller and bigger than he was meant to be.
“I’d tell him,” you say, unsure of your own words, “that he’s strong and clever, and he shouldn’t have to try so hard to prove it to everyone.”
Spencer sucks in a breath that betrays his aloof demeanor. The words hit him like a swift blow to the stomach. But even with the pain, he hopes you’re not finished.
You’re not.
“I’d tell him that I know he’s trying his hardest, and sometimes things are bigger than us and…”
You bite your tongue to stop tears from welling. You breathe in sharply, reaching up to place both palms against his reddened cheeks. You laugh as they shift towards a goofy grin despite tears.
“I’d tell him that everything’s going to be okay,” you say confidently.
“Oh,” he chuckles; a sad but necessary sound.
"Yeah."
Gentle thumbs wipe each droplet that manages to spill from big golden brown eyes. The same as you had moments before, you catch what you can of his sadness and turn it to comforting warmth across his cheek.
Spencer bites his lip, looking down at your feet before daring to look at you again. Because when he does, he loses his breath and his sense once more.
“I, uh... I think he would’ve liked that,” he confesses.
“I know,” you whisper with a genuine remorse. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
Spencer accepts the apology but refuses to stay in the past any longer.
“But you’re here now,” he says quickly.
“Yeah, I am,” you laugh in return. “Good luck getting rid of me now.”
But letting you go is the furthest thing from his mind. In fact, he pulls you closer until there is nothing but atoms between you. Strong arms embrace you and his clever words muffle against your hair.
“I wouldn’t even dare to try.”
Together, you settle into the silence. You share your warmth without restraint. Just two bodies swaying in a simple and symbiotic embrace. You enjoy the comfort, the company, the lack of need for words to describe it all.
And once you feel he’s had his fill, you sigh against his shirt.
“You know, I’m going to get through to that little boy eventually.”
Spencer halts his step as he starts to laugh.
“Is that a threat?” he asks.
Without moving from your place against him, you smile.
“Watch out, Dr. Reid,” you hum. “I’ve been told I’m good at this.”
Stop bc I’ve had a little brainworm lately. Hotch’s really young ex wife bringing the kid(s) to Aaron bc he was late for a drop off or something and Spencer absolutely falling for her ⁉️⁉️ it’s been eating me alive (love your work mwah mwah)
part two
tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. not really infidelity. p in v smut.
a/n: anon, you are crazy. i love that for us. (thank u for reading my work ilysm) i hope u like this, even if it's just short :)
requests are open!
He feels like he’s going insane. Scratch that. He’s actually insane.
He’s sequestered himself in the men’s restroom, tugging on his cock, biting the sleeves of his sweater so that he won’t make a noise, all because you smiled at him.
His boss’ wife. His boss’ young ex-wife.
Distinction is important in his line of business.
Spencer would love to blame you for putting him into this predicament, but that would be pointless.
It’s been a week since he last saw you. Since you last dropped Jack off at the BAU. Ever since your divorce with Aaron (the team didn’t even know he was married), you would show up to the office on their slower days to drop Jack off for the weekend.
Spencer doesn’t know much about you, only that you were once Jack’s nanny. You’ve been working for Aaron since Haley, Aaron’s ex-fiancee and Jack’s birth mom, decided that she wasn’t ready to be a mother yet.
Aaron once confided in him. You married Hotch when Jack was barely 3. You’ve always been ‘mom’ to the little boy. Aaron regrets marrying you so hastily.
You were around Spencer’s age. The fights leading up to your divorce started and ended with Aaron’s guilt for holding you back. Spencer couldn’t bring himself to care about your marital disputes since it led to him knowing you.
“Fuck,” he whimpers. White cum making his fingers sticky. Tucking himself back into his pants, he unlocks the bathroom stall with a cough, as if to hide the depravity that just took place. He quickly washes his hands, thrice. And then he leaves the men’s room, nearly running into a body in his haste.
Strong hands steady exposed shoulders. The skin under his warm hands, soft and smooth. It was you. He had just finished touching himself to the thought of you, and here you are now. Served to him on a golden platter.
“Hi, Spencer. I was just on my way out.”
“Did you talk to Hotch?”
You look up at him with a quizzical brow. He gulps down the thoughts looking into your eyes brought to his brain.
“Not really, no. I’m just here to drop Jack off for the weekend.”
He nods, and then you start to leave. He hesitates for a while, begging for the words to leave his tongue on their own. You beat him to the punch.
“Spencer?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you free this weekend?”
You fill his hands so perfectly. Your hips, your thighs, your breasts. Everywhere he cups and squeezes, as his hips smack thunderously against the flesh of your arse. You have your cheek pressed onto the mattress, taking everything that Spencer gave you. His cum, his sighs, his praise. The way he moans and mumbles your name like a prayer.
He’s your ex-husband’s co-worker. You swear you’ve read a cheesy erotica of this plot somewhere.
But that didn’t stop you from pulling him into your bedroom. Practiced hands undoing his dark blue tie. His longer fingers lifting the skirt of your sundress.
“You’re so good. You fuck me so good,” you can’t help but moan.
Spencer’s hand runs up and down your back, taking your hair and tightening a fist against your nape.
“You take me so well,” his following praise gets cut off by your phone ringing. Spencer slows his thrusts, hips moving until you’ve taken him to the base, and he continues his ministrations in tiny grinds of his pelvic bone against your clit. Your mind goes hazy at each tantalizing grind of his hips.
Your phone continues to ring. You blindly stretch out an arm to grab for it. Without looking at the caller ID, you answer the call. “Hello?”
Spencer watches from above you, watches you move your cheek and tilt your head so that you can make eye contact.
“Aaron?” you say with an almost whimper.
Spencer continues the grind of his hips against your wet and throbbing clit.
“Yeah, I can get Jack. Twenty minutes?”
Spencer almost hisses at the thought of the inevitable.
“Okay, see you in a bit.”
You hang up the call. Before the phone lands on your pillow, Spencer grabs you by the hips and maneuvers you to lay on your back, all while keeping his cock firmly inside you.
“We have to stop,” you say. “I think you have a new case.”
And then, his phone rings.
He puts two fingers into your mouth while he picks up the call with his other hand.
“This is Reid.”
“Reid? We have a case. A string of homicides in Atlanta.”
He hums, watching you slobber over his fingers.
“Reid?”
“Yeah?”
“Is Y/N with you?”
Spencer feels the way your pussy clenches around him.
