Pasitheablog - Chaos

cod × fem!reader ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

The familiar sound of keys in the door alerted you to your husband’s return.

“My love?” he called, looking for you, boots making heavy footsteps as he made his way towards you and your child. His eyes soften once they land on you and your baby girl.

“How’s my princess?” he drawls, voice deep with exhaustion from work.

You look down at the child sitting in your lap, occupied with trying to fit a chubby foot into her mouth. A steady finger reaches underneath your chin, lifting it to meet his warm, intense gaze.

“I’m talking about this one.”

me practicing for kyle, johnny, alex, rudy, alejandro, simon, john, keegan, farah, valeria, and kate:

i funking love it

Stuck

In which reader finds herself stuck in an elevator with her colleagues.

Pairing: Hotch x Reid x Morgan x Fem!BAU!Reader Genre: smut (18+) Content warnings: fingering, oral (f and m receiving), face riding, p in v sex, overstimulation, masturbation, breast play Word count: 5,4k A/n: I'm ovulating, so you know what time it is 🤭 I'm really nervous to post this, so I hope you will enjoy!

“Oh, you guys are such babies!” You laugh as Spencer and Derek refuse to step into the elevator, explaining how they’ve been stuck in one before. 

“It’s not funny, Y/N,” Spencer chimes in. “There are six elevator deaths per year. Not to mention ten thousand injuries that require hospitalization.”   

You roll your eyes at his comment, just as Hotch walks toward the elevator. “See!” You exclaim. “Hotch is joining us, and he saved you last time. We’ll be fine.” You add cheerfully.

“You’re coming?” Hotch asks, holding the elevator door open. You nod, pulling Morgan and Reid with you by their arms. 

You chuckle at their nervous reflections in the mirror as the elevator starts moving. A sudden creak causes Derek to snap his head towards you. “It made the same sound the last time!” You were just about to shut Derek up as the elevator shakes and the lights start flickering. 

“Not again!” Spencer whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut like he’s about to fall to his death at any given moment.

Hotch inspects the tight space, his expression grim. “It seems like the electricity went out…” 

“Actually, there are a lot of reasons why an elevator might stop,” Spencer interjects. “It could be worn-out suspension ropes, and it actually happens quite regularly that the motor overheats the safety sensors of the-“ 

“Let’s just solve this problem, shall we?” You cut him off, nudging Morgan out of the way to hit the red button on the panel. 

“You think that’ll do something?” Morgan asks, brow lifted. 

“It will alert someone that we’re stuck. We have to wait until somebody comes and gets us out of here.” Hotch adds. 

“Well at least I’ll be missing my meeting with Strauss,” I sigh in relief. 

“It was at twelve, right?” Spencer asks. 

“Yeah,” you respond with a nod.

“Statistically the average wait time to be rescued from an elevator is less than an hour,” Spencer continues, checking his watch. “That means you could still make it in time.” 

“Now that’s just what I wanted to hear,” you say sarcastically, earning a grin from Morgan. 

“We can only hope we won’t be in here for that long,” Hotch mutters, his impatience visible as he leans uncomfortably against the elevator doors. 

“Okay… so now what? Want to go over a case to pass the time?” 

“No, no cases please,” Morgan groans. “We’ve had three in a row. I’m done.” 

“Morgan is right. We’ve done enough cases in the past few days.” Hotch agrees. 

You mutter an “alright” as you sit down with your back against the elevator wall, smoothing out the crinkles in your skirt. The others look at you with uncertainty. Eventually Reid decides to sit next to you, exchanging a soft smile. Morgan follows suit, sitting in front of you. Hotch remains standing. You leave him be and turn to Spencer. 

“So Reid, I’m sure you’ve got enough interesting facts to pass the time.” 

Spencer looks surprised by the request, not used to directly being asked to share his facts, but his eyes quickly brighten, eager to share. “Well, actually, there are a lot of interesting things to say about elevators. There are approximately 20 million elevators worldwide,” you chuckle at his obvious enthusiasm. “The first elevator was created in 236 B.C. by Archimedes, a Greek mathematician. He used a water wheel and tied animals together with rope to create a lift mechanism.” You hum in interest. “They used lifts in the Colosseum, right?” 

“Yes! Exactly!” he responds excitedly. “The system was powered by eight men who would turn this massive wooden shaft connected to ropes. It could hold more than 600 pounds!” 

“Oh come on,” Derek says, his hand falling to his knee. “You’re telling me you’re actually interested in the mechanics of ancient elevators?”. 

Hotch glances at Morgan, silently agreeing with Derek’s skepticism. 

“Derek Morgan…” you feign offense, placing a hand on your chest. “Don’t act like I’m not curious about knowledge. At least Spence’s got something interesting to say.” 

Spencer blushes faintly, appreciating your defense. 

“Hey, I know facts too,” Morgan says smugly. “How about there being 7000 languages in the world today.” 

“The overall number is actually closer to 8000,” Spencer corrects him. “You only counted verbal communication.” 

“You guys are going to have a facts competition now?” You ask, bewildered. “It’s way too hot in here. I need some light conversation.”

“I agree,” Hotch mutters. “It is getting a little warm.”

You glance up at the AC in the corner of the elevator, which is clearly not working. It probably shut down along with the power. There’s a brief silence before Reid speaks up again. 

“I never thought I’d be trapped in an elevator with my colleagues,” he muses. “It’s a little cliché.”

“Cliche, how?” Hotch asks, intrigued despite himself. 

“You know how, in movies, a group of people get stuck in an elevator and they have to learn to overcome their differences to escape?” 

You shake your head in confusion, “I think I only know the dirty movies where they get stuck in an elevator,” you laugh. 

Spencer blinks at you, clearly thrown off. Derek chuckles at the scene, and even Hotch manages a faint smile. 

“I should’ve known you’ve only watched the dirty ones,” Derek teases. 

“What about you, pretty boy?  Ever seen a dirty movie?” He asks Spencer, grinning. 

Reid looks flustered. “I grew up in Vegas… I’ve seen some things.” 

“Ah, Vegas,” you say, sighing dreamily. “The place where you can’t drive for a minute without seeing a giant porn billboard.”

Morgan grins, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “Sounds like my kind of place.” 

You laugh and kick his leg playfully. Morgan winks at you, enjoying the lighthearted banter. You glance up at Hotch, who is still the only one standing. 

“What about you, Hotch? What’s your favorite dirty movie?” You ask with a mischievous grin, but your expression quickly drops when you see his stern look. 

“Watch it, Y/L/N.” Hotch warns.

“Come on, Hotch,” Derek says. “Let loose a little!”

“See it as the universe’s sign.” I press on. 

“How is being stuck in here a sign of the universe?” Hotch asks, brows raised.

“Well, no way would you willingly take a break yourself. Now the universe got you stuck in here and is forcing you to relax,” you explain, with a playful gleam in your eyes. 

To everyone’s surprise, he slowly lowers himself to the floor, sitting down next to you. 

You exchange surprised looks with Derek and Spencer. All amazed at how you managed to get Hotch to sit down.

The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, scared to say something that will make Hotch change his mind. You’re glad he joined you, but it’s hard to ignore the rising temperature now that another person is sitting in close proximity to you. 

“How long has it been?” you ask, fanning yourself with your blazer. “I’m starting to sweat.”

“Thirty-five minutes so far,” Derek replies, following your lead and fanning himself. 

Hotch looks mildly uncomfortable, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Spencer, however, looks the most miserable using the collar of his sweater vest to wipe his face. 

“You guys should take your jackets off,” you suggest, eyeing Morgan and Hotch. 

You don’t need to tell Derek twice, as he removes his jacket, revealing a black short sleeved shirt that looks a lot more comfortable. Hotch looks reluctant to do the same, but eventually gives in, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt collar. You take a peak as he reveals his broad, muscled shoulders for a moment, before readjusting his shirt. Hotch notices your glance and his eyes shoot up to yours, catching you in the moment as your cheeks flush. You quickly look away. 

“Oh, she’s enjoying the view, alright,” Derek smirks and you give him a warning glance.

“Shut up. I was just surprised Hotch would give in.” 

Morgan grins and nudges Hotch with his elbow, “Look at that, Hotch. You’re surprising us all today. First you smile and now you’re taking your jacket off. What’s next, dancing a jig?” You and Spencer snort at his comment. Hotch rolls his eyes at Morgan’s teasing but can’t help a small smile from appearing on his lips. 

Spencer struggles with his vest and you give him a hand. “Here, let me help you”, you say as you scoot closer, pulling the vest over his head. The fabric feels soft, but incredibly warm in your hands. You don’t know how he managed to keep it on for this long. Reid is taken aback for a moment, but mutters a soft thanks. Morgan and Hotch watch the exchange with interest, clearly amused at the sight of you being so forward with Reid.

“Now it’s your turn, you’re the one who insisted,” Morgan states, and you can’t help but agree as you take your blazer off, giving a satisfied hum at the immediate relief.

“I’ll open up some buttons too, if you don’t mind,” you announce as your fingers start working on your blouse. You don’t give them a chance to respond, since it seems only fair. Their eyes widen at your gesture, all of them staring at the sight of your blouse slightly opening up. Morgan lets out a low whistle, “Now that’s a nice view.”

“You’re insufferable,” you scoff as you stop unbuttoning, showing just a hint of your lacy bra. Morgan’s eyes linger on the sight, clearly enjoying the view. Hotch and Reid look like they’re struggling to keep their cool. Reid is the most flustered of all, turning bright red as he focuses on his hands. Morgan glances around at the others, seeing them struggle to keep themselves composed. 

He chuckles and shakes his head, enjoying the effect you’re having on them. “You know, you’re driving all of us a little crazy here, sweetheart.” 

You let out a small huff, “Give me a break. You’re wearing shortsleeves, I’m the one wearing a blouse.” 

Hotch speaks up, his gaze lingering on your blouse. “That blouse does seem a bit warm.” 

“Thank you!” You say, glad someone is on your side. 

Hotch eyes stay focused on you though, or specifically the bit of exposed collarbone and the lace that’s hugged around the swell of your breast. Your breathing heaves when you find Spencer taking occasional peaks as well, watching with a mixture of awe and embarrassment, finding difficulty in looking away. 

“Let’s just all take our shirts off, I want it to be fair”, you quickly exclaim, done with the heavy tension that’s driving you crazy. Hotch and Morgan exchange amused glances as Spencer eyes turn big, taking in your proposal. 

“All our shirts, are you sure about that?” Derek asks, a hint of surprise in his voice. 

“Then at least you won’t eye me like that.” 

“Oh, I think I’ll eye you only more.” Derek teases, licking his lips. 

“Just take your damn shirt off.” 

Derek chuckles and raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. No need to get feisty.” He says as he lifts his shirt off in a smooth motion. It’s a known fact that Derek is jacked, but seeing him in a setting like this, abs glistening with sweat and pupils still dilated from looking at you, is on a whole ‘nother level. 

You’re glad the attention is taken away from your peering eyes as Hotch follows suit, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a clearly defined muscular chest with just a hint of hair. You start doubting your suggestion as it feels like the room is only growing hotter. You look over at Spencer, seeing whether he’ll be the next. Spencer hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting between the other’s bare chests and your unbuttoned blouse. His chest heaving with his breath, suggesting that he’s more affected than he’s letting on. 

“Come on, pretty boy. Join the party.” Derek says.

“I’ll go first,” you assure Spencer, not wanting him to suffer under peer pressure. Your hands start working on the buttons. Spencer’s eyes widened at the scene in front of him.

“See, it’s not that hard,” you reassure Spencer, folding your blouse and placing it next to you. 

“I don’t know about that. You’re making things pretty hard, baby girl.” Morgan comments, making you laugh. 

“You’re way too dirty for your own good.” 

Morgan grins. “Can you blame me? I mean, look at you. You’re looking mighty tempting right now.”

You softly smile at the compliment and focus back on Spencer. “You’ll feel a lot cooler, I promise,” you encourage. 

“I don’t know. I’m not as… toned as the others.” It hurts you to hear how he’s comparing himself to his colleagues. 

“Do you truly think I care about that?” You ask him. “It’s not a competition. I just want you to feel comfortable,” you speak genuinely. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes searching yours for any signs of mockery or deception. When he finds none, his face softens and he nods. He lifts his shirt over his head, revealing a body no less impressive than the others. 

“Not too bad, pretty boy. You’re looking pretty good without that vest on.” Derek compliments. 

“You do,” You agree, as you fold his shirt and place it on top of my blouse. Spencer gives you a sheepish smile, grateful for your help. Glad he decided to take his shirt off as he felt the cool air hit his chest, “Yeah, that does feel better.” 

You look around the room, the scene for sure one to be put down in the history books of the BAU. “I think it’s safe to say we’ve entered a new step in our colleague bonding,” you awkwardly chuckle, trying to lighten the mood but the air feels charged with an unspoken tension that’s impossible to ignore. You can feel their eyes on you, the way they linger, the weight of their gazes following your every movement. You try to ignore it, to stay professional, but your body betrays you. You shift slightly, adjusting your skirt, and that’s when you feel it - the subtle brush of Hotch’s fingers caressing your arm.

You swallow hard as you look away. The air around you is suddenly too tight. You want to curse your body as your nipples harden under his steady gaze, there being no way to blame it on the cold. Derek notices the exchange and leans in, the heat between you two palpable. 

His voice is low and husky, “You're all worked up, sweetheart. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.” 

Your pulse quickens, the sound of your heartbeat almost drowning out his words. “I’m not the only one,” you counter, voice quieter, but the challenge in it is unmistakable. You feel Spencer shift next to you, his body tense as he feels like he’s been caught staring at your chest. “Don’t be shy, genius,” Derek teases. “We’re all thinking the same thing right now.” You can’t help but smile at Spencer’s flustered look. “It’s… It’s hard not to, when you-” He cuts himself off, his voice faltering as his eyes dart away from your breasts. 

Hotch is still standing by the door, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches the dynamic play out. “We’ve been stuck in here long enough. I think it’s safe to say we all want and feel the same thing.” The air thickens with desire as he dares to say the thought that’s been occupying everyone’s mind. You glance at the others, seeing how Spencer is adjusting himself in his pants and the way Derek is watching you, his gaze so intense it almost feels like he’s touching you. 

“Guess it’s only fair if we all just… give in to it,” you murmur, your eyes flicking between them. The suggestion is there, unspoken but understood. 

From there on everything feels like a blur. You hear Hotch growl behind you as he wraps his bicep around your neck, pulling you in as his lips crash against yours. You whimper against his mouth, which gives him the opportunity to let his tongue slide in. You welcome his tongue with yours as your hand moves to squeeze the arm around your neck, making full use of the circumstances to feel up on his muscles. 

“You’re always driving me crazy when wearing this skirt,” Hotch groans in your ear as his teeth pull on your earlobe. You can find no other way to respond than let out a high pitched sound of enjoyment as his free hand kneads your ass through your pencil skirt. Spencer watches the scene unfold in front of him. How his boss roughly grabs and kisses you, manhandling you. 

 “I- I don’t know about this…” Spencer stammers. 

Morgan turns to him, breaking the intense gaze he had on you and Hotch. “Don’t worry Reid, she’s enjoying it.” 

“Are you sure?” Spencer asks, uncertainty in his voice as Hotch is pulling on your hair, giving him access to plant kisses and bites on your neck. 

Morgan grins, “Let me show you how sure I am,” he says as he steps towards you and Hotch. He rolls your skirt up to your stomach and lets his fingers slide over your panties, cursing when it easily slips between your folds, creating a wet sound. You moan at the friction, not in the state to feel embarrassed by how wet you are. 

“See Reid, she loves it,” Derek points out, licking his lips as he pulls your damp panties to the side. Spencer lets out a groan as Derek reveals your glistening pussy, his hand subconsciously squeezing the bulge in his pants for any form of release.

“Let me see,” Hotch insists, removing his lips from your neck. Derek slides a finger through your folds and proudly displays the stickiness to Hotch. 

“You’re such a little slut, aren’t you?,” Hotch whispers, his nose pressed against the side of your face. “Just been begging to get in a situation like this so we could all fuck you the way you deserve.” You whimper at his dirty words and hot breath on your skin. Your legs feel like jelly as he grinds himself against your ass. Derek continues to apply pressure with his hand as he lets his fingers rub up and down your lips and clit. 

Spencer’s eyes are burning holes in your chest. He just can’t understand how no one has touched your lovely tits, while they’ve been teasing him the entire time. 

“You can come here Spence,” you purr, hypnotizing him to walk towards you. He swallows as he’s close enough to touch you, close enough to hear all the little sounds you’re making as you’re being touched all over. 

“Can I-?” You don’t let Spencer finish his question as you quickly nod, throwing your head back as his finger grazes over your nipple, sending a direct spark of pleasure to your clit. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers mostly to himself in awe as he cups your breast, the shape fitting perfectly in his large hand. 

“Thank you,” you whisper back. It’s ironic how his sweet compliment is the thing that's making you shy.

Derek slips a finger inside of you with ease, and you bite your lip to hold back your mewls. “Don’t do that. I like the way you sound.” Spencer encourages, resulting in another moan from you, loving the effect his words have on you. 

Hotch unclasps your bra from behind and Spencer helps him by pulling your straps down, letting your breasts fall free. Hotch grabs your left breast, kneading it with his strong, calloused hands as he rolls your nipple in between his fingers. Spencer uses the momentary distraction to bend down and experimentally licks your nipple, humming at the sensation. He gives a couple more licks to your breast as he pulls your nipple in between his lips, sucking on it as he flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud. 

You feel overwhelmed by the way all of your erogenous zones are stimulated at once; Hotch licking and biting on your neck and ear, while massaging your breast and grinding his hardness against your ass. Spencer’s swollen lips and wet tongue tracing over your nipple as Derek caresses your thighs as he adds a second finger into your pussy. You realize that this is what pleasure is supposed to be like. The zones on your body are all connected and you haven’t experienced true bliss until those spots get triggered at the same time. 

“Morgan, is she ready?” Hotch asks, breathing heavily. 

“More than ready, sir,” Derek grins as he takes a step back. He lets his fingers slide out of you, making you whimper at the loss of contact, but then Hotch turns you around so that your chest is pressed up against the elevator doors where he was standing. 

“I need you for myself,” he groans. Derek tosses a condom from his jeans and Hotch catches it, ripping the package with his teeth while pulling his trousers down to his knees, not wanting to let a single moment go to waste. Your hands are pressed against the wall as he slowly enters you. 

“Oh my god… I feel so full,” you whine and you swear you could feel him grin as you register that he’s not even fully inside of you. You let out a long breath as you feel his balls make contact with your ass. 

“You’re doing okay there, princess?” Derek chuckles and you nod. Hotch slowly moves his length out of you as he slams his hips back in with a groan. You gasp as you wrap your hand around the back of his head, keeping yourself steady as he continues thrusting into you. His growls feel hot against your neck. His sweaty chest pressed up against your back, leaving you completely in his grasp.

“You feel that angel? How your pussy swallows my cock?” You let out a cry as you nod your head in agreement. 

“I don’t understand Y/N. You’re a big girl, use your words.” 

“Oh god…’’ Your head spins as he pounds into you. “I’m not going to tell you again Y/N, use your words.” He orders. 

“Yes!’’ you cry out. ‘’God yes Aaron, it feels so good. I can feel you so deep inside of me.” 

“Say my name again.” He moans as his hand trails down your stomach until it reaches your swollen bud. “Aaron, please… I’m so, so close.” He gives some quick taps to your clit, making you squirm in pleasure as your knees give out. His strong hands grip you by the waist and he hoists you back up on his dick. “I’m almost there honey, you can keep it up, be good for me.” 

You let out a string of whines as he uses the palm of his hand to swiftly move against your folds, indirectly bringing pleasure to your clit. You can’t take it any more, pressing your nails into his arms as you crouch down in front of him, shaking as your release hits you. Hotch groans loudly as his dick slips out of your pussy. His dick twitches as he takes off the condom, painting your back with hot spurts of cum.

You have your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath as you’re still riding down your orgasm. You hum as you feel the soft material of Spencer’s sweater vest against your back, cleaning you up. 

“You okay?” Spencer asks, kneeled in front of you. You nod your head and softly smile at his tenderness. 

“Yeah. I feel really, really good.” You answer, making Spencer return your smile. With him in front of you, you notice the visible outline of his bulge pressed against his thigh and reach out to touch it. Your fingers lightly brush over his length, causing him to shudder. 

“Do you want me to take care of you?” You ask sensually, looking in his eyes. 

“Not really,” he responds, taking you by surprise. He sees your expression and quickly corrects himself. “It’s not like I don’t want you to! I’d- I’d love you to do…”, he’s not actually sure what you planned on doing to him. “Whatever you would do. I just-,” his voice softens, meeting your gaze. “I really need to know what you taste like.” 

Your cheeks warm, feeling your arousal grow. “Okay,” you exhale. Spencer extends his hand, helping you up. You find your blazer and bundle it up for Spencer to lay his head on. You’re amazed at how willing he is to get down on the floor, ready to eat you out in a very nontraditional and arguable unsanitized way. You hover over his face as you get down on your knees, letting out a hum as his breath tingles your pussy. Spencer kneads your calves and runs his hands up the back of your thighs. He tilts his head up, placing a wet kiss on your inner thigh.

“Feels good,” you mumble. Spencer responds with a hum against your skin, the vibration causing you to moan. He grabs your thighs, slowly pulling them further apart. “I can’t wait to taste you,” he admits, sticking out his tongue and licking a stripe up your folds. You moan, arching your back. Through hooded eyes you spot the figure of Hotch. He’s sitting against the wall in front of you, lazily stroking his half hard length as he stares at you. 

Just when you were about to question where Morgan was, you catch him in your periphery. He holds your gaze as he approaches, coming to a stop right in front of you. His belt buckle hangs open, but it doesn’t look like he’s touched himself. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d really like to take up on that offer genius here denied.” You grin at him, hands reaching out to his belt. Spencer is keeping himself busy, licking and sucking up your juices. You pull Derek’s pants down, gasping as his dick springs free, slapping against his happy trail. You groan in delight as you wrap your hand around his shaft. He tilts his head back at the contact. “Fuck baby, your hands feel so warm and soft.” You lean forward and let some of your spit dribble down on his dick, making him hiss. You move your thumb in circles over his tip, mixing your saliva with his precum. When it feels like it’s wet enough, you move your hand up and down his length in a steady motion.

His tip grows red and you cannot resist licking your lips before putting your mouth on him. He feels heavy in your mouth as you take him in deeper, stimulating him with your tongue as you suck. His hands tangle in your hair, holding you as he moves in sync with your movements. 

Spencer moves a hand up the curve of your ass while he uses the other to unbuckle his belt. He slides his hand in his pants, rubbing himself over his boxers as he relishes in your taste. His lips nibble on your labia as his nose tickles against your clit. 

“Don’t get distracted, baby girl,” Derek states, softly pushing your head back down. You swallow around him and try to up your pace. Derek takes your breast in his hand, massaging it. As your nipples harden he takes one in between his fingers, pulling on it. You gasp at the sensation, making his dick slide deeper down your throat. 

“Fuck! Right there baby, that feels so good,” he pants. You blink away tears, continuing the steady movement of your head and swirls of your tongue. 

Spencer’s dick starts feeling too hot in his boxers and he pulls it out, so that it lays against his stomach. Your pussy is absolutely dripping because of the swipes of Spencer’s tongue and the taste of Derek in your mouth. Spencer can’t keep up with licking you clean, your wetness dripping down his chin. He reaches out to grab his length, the skin to skin contact overstimulating him. 

You notice Spencer getting restless underneath you. Derek’s dick pops out of your mouth. “Are you okay, Spence?” You ask. He hums against your clit in response, you let out a high pitched moan and instinctively bend your knees. “Sorry,” you apologize as you want to tilt your hips back up, but Spencer pulls you back down by your thighs, making you sit on his face.

“Oh god…” You moan as he starts devouring you. He keeps a hand firm on your ass as he starts jerking himself off to the beautiful sounds that you’re making. You lazily tug on Derek’s cock, too distracted by Spencer’s tongue. 

“Oh Spencer, I’m going to cum,” you whimper, mouth open and brows furrowed in pleasure. You start grinding yourself on his tongue, seeking your release. You find the perfect spot and Spencer presses the tip of his tongue against your clit, as you fall undone. Spencer laps up your juices and squeezes the load out of his dick as it splatters on his belly. You lift your hips to give Spencer some space. He moves away, joining you on his knees as he sits behind you, pressing featherlight kisses to your back. 

“I’m not gonna last that much longer,” Derek announces, who’s been stroking himself to your orgasm. “Come here, then,” you invite as you take him back in your mouth. Placing a hand on his thigh for support, you use all of the energy that is left in you to suck him off. Your free hand reaches out to play with his balls, which seems to be the trigger for him.

“Fuck, Y/N, baby, I’m going to cum!” He groans deeply as he fills your mouth. You quickly swallow his load, eyes watering as he pulls you in by your head, needing your lips on him as he rides out the aftershocks. 

“Fuck… You’re amazing, sweetheart.” He sighs, letting go of your hair so that you can catch your breath. 

-

“Who the hell is in there?” 

The voice outside is sharp and gruff. Everyone’s heads whip around, startled. Hotch swiftly buckles his belt as he strides towards the elevator doors.

“This is SSA Aaron Hotchner of the BAU. I’m stuck here with three of my agents.” 

The voice responds quickly, dripping with disbelief. "Why didn’t you morons use the emergency button?"

Your colleagues look at each other, then shift their gaze to you, all with accusing looks plastered on their faces.

"Hey, don’t look at me! I’m the first one that pressed the red button!" You say in defense. 

The voice outside huffs in frustration. "Red? It's a black button."

You blink in surprise, your gaze snapping to the panel. You crawl up to get a better look, and sure enough, there's a black button, boldly labeled ‘EMERGENCY.’

"What in the world?" you mutter under your breath. "Then what the hell is the red button for?!"

The voice outside laughs sarcastically. "How the hell am I supposed to know? I’ve been working here for six months. Don’t blame me because you can’t read." He pauses, clearly shaking his head. "FBI agents, my ass."

You blink in disbelief. You share an incredulous glance with Derek, then burst out laughing, your frustration giving way to amusement. "Seriously?" you mutter, shaking your head. 

Derek notices how Spencer’s been unusually quiet. “Speak up, kid,” he urged. 

“I’ve known what the buttons do the entire time,” he says, voice casual.

You and Hotch both turn to look at him, eyes wide. “What?!” You both exclaim at the same time. 

Spencer shrugs, a playful glint in his eyes. “I told you about those movies where people overcome their differences to try to escape. I wanted to see how we would solve it.”

Derek’s mouth drops open. “You’ve been sitting here the whole time knowing exactly what to do and didn’t say anything?!” 

Spencer smiles, looking almost proud of himself. “It’s a team-building exercise,” he says matter-of-factly. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy it.”

You shake your head, laughing in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable, Reid.”

As if on cue, the elevator jolts, and the soft ding of the doors opening fills the space.

I don’t have the same amount of passion as I used to and that devastates me

What's your Floral Scent?🌺

Candles, Room Sprays, Soaps, Lotions, Body Mists, Incense, Room Sachet, Perfume... Whatever flavored thing we use in our witchy can help us to focus and enjoy magical times.

Floral scents are amazing for love, balance, self-care & confidence spells; each one corresponds to a feeling or personality trait, and do purify the air of your sacred spaces (essential oils make it easier). Flowers may be used by anyone regardless of their gender but they represent receptive, beautiful female energy a.k.a. our feminine side (male is represented by stems, fruit, wood, air, fire, mushrooms, wild plants, rocks, metals, etc... Soil is feminine tho!).

How to Choose

1. IT SUITS YOU: know how that flower looks like, pay attention to the colors and take a Seasonal Color Analysis test if you don't know to which season you chromatically belong to. Its aspect should match yours!

2. IT HEALS YOU: one that smells elegant, soft and not too overpowering to you (not to other people, don't listen to them!).

3. IT "EXPOSES" YOU: you don't have to be an expert, just read a few lines about how to look after your fav flower. Sometimes the little things indicate hidden parts of your personality, or hidden needs.

Most Famous Scents

Rose Classy, spicy, romantic, timeless; the weakest most fragile flower regardless of all its thorns (self-defensive mechanisms), has a very complex beauty in every range of color; needs water (emotions), sun (warmth) and good care to bloom (encouragement).

Orchid Beautiful, challenging, sweet; requires special care (attention), most people refuse to plant 'cause of high maintenance (commitment), but once it blooms it smells like heaven (goodness, generosity): everybody wants it! Vanilla is a type of orchid as well.

Tuberose Sharp, womanly, smells like cleanliness; needs to be fed really well (literally!) and loves mild temperatures (cozyness); modest and neutral in appearance, has the most intense flavor (depth of the soul) and it is a celeb in the perfume industry.

Lavender Dreamy, fresh, versatile, wild; hardly requires any maintenance (materially independent), blooms even on dry wild soil (imagination, ideas), only needs yearly pruning to look good (action); its color is enchanting and its antiseptic properties legendary.

Gardenia Pure, glossy, plump, elegant, fragrant; the flower of all flowers, needs luminosity (activity) but not direct sunlight, and loads of humidity (people, social circles) to unleash its max potential, is a celeb in the perfume industry and smells like zesty freshness.

Peony Vaporous, bright, timeless, audacious; needs to be well fed (literally! food & attention) and loves direct sunlight (life, daring experiences); it may grow in different varieties or colors, but always smells like the sweeter version of a rose.

Magnolia Structured, simple, delightful; blooms at a young age, grows on trees (strong), has a sweet floral fruity fragrance; prefers the shade (isolation, peace, silence), needs occasional maintenance (attention, affection) and regular water (emotions) in order to grow healthy.

Lilac With character, loud, happy, abundant; low maintenance (emotionally autonomous), its vivacious rosey smell clings to the air (attitude) but is softened by a sweet almond note (joy); needs balanced soil ph & temperature (inner and outer peace), as well as sunlinght (life).

Jasmine Evergreen, spectacular, unique, delicate; has an unmistakeable smell and presence, is low maintenance (self-motivated) but needs fertile soil (opportunities) to grow into a profuse display of blooms; it's an evergreen (optimism, vitality) and is a celeb in the perfume / tea industry.

Orange Blossom Sexy, clean, youthful, changeable; this perennial plant (optimism) can smell either fresh or warm, is star-shaped, a celeb in the perfume industry, needs sun (life) and regular water (care, emotions) otherwise it won't bloom; it favors relaxation and it is said to be aphrodisiac!

Hyacinth Strong, unique, pompous, mysterious; low maintenance (solitary), needs full sunlight (exposure, success) and a slightly wet soil (rationality, logic) where water won't collect otherwise it rots; the signature scent of this perennial plant (consistent) is extremely floral-green and fresh.

Freesia Charming, lovely, artistic, friendly; needs sun (warmth) & slightly cooler temperatures (a logic approach to life) for blooming - the sole moment in which it requires special care (attention, support) -; has a picturesque presence (refined beauty) and one of the sweetest scents around, very soothing.

...And this is just a starting point from where you can explore more fragrant flowers to find a scent that you like and is also accessible in other forms other than fresh flowers, so you can incorporate it in all seasons of your life, as well as in your witchy craft!

Hope this list helps you guys to find the right flower buddy for you!🌼

xox @msmoonfire

20 de novembro de 2022

Café da manhã com 204 kcal

i just know they hit that one spot. every time. each thrust.

there is a tsunami between my legs

Concept: John Price has a lovely little wife at home, that he shares with his boys when the going gets tough…

John Price x Kyle Garrick x Mrs Price

Pure smut with very little plot. Danke @shotmrmiller as always for adding fuel to my toxic brain. MDNI ta.

It’s a truth universally acknowledged, that John Price lucked out in the marriage department. When his boys saw you for the first time, such a pretty thing waiting in the aircraft hanger for him, each and every one had the exact same thought. A hive mind Pavlovian response, throats growing thick and sweaty palms rubbing on the outside of their tac pants.

“Wish I had someone like that to come home to.” Kyle murmurs, while Simon nudges Johnny, who seems to have lost all trace of coherent thought, wide eyes gazing at the way you throw yourself into their Captains arms, whispering honeyed words into his ear.

John isn’t stupid. He’s fully aware that you’re a walking dreamscape, buttery and soft, a contrast to the bloody, dirty world he inhabits. His escape, his perfect girl, one he comes home to on leave, dropping his grime covered boots at the front door along with the remnants of the unsavoury decisions he has to make in the field.

Never complacent, John adores you entirely. You wait for him through long, cold nights while he’s stuck in some far flung and dangerous situation. You welcome the team into your shared home with reckless joy, ever the hostess, even going out of your way to invite Simon for Christmas dinner because you know innately he has nowhere else to go. You ruffle Johnny’s mohawk until he actually blushes and feed Kyle bites of dessert off your spoon, giggling happily, pleased to be of service. Playing your part in whatever war they’re fighting. Never once do you complain about it. Not one irritable word passes your lips.

And that’s how John knows you won’t mind going that extra mile for him, for your beloved boys. You’re the unofficial team mascot, so it’s only right that you pull your weight.

The first time it occurs to him, he’s leaving the helo with a shaken Kyle in tow. Finally back on friendly soil, the man has taken a beating or two this mission. Falling out of that chopper was the last straw on an already overloaded mind. Kyle’s been unusually quiet, contemplative. Clearly he’s caught up in his own head, having faced death countless times in his life, this scrap with it hit close to home. Still he performed admirably, John’s protégé, he couldn’t have asked anymore from him.

Taking in Kyle’s sullen form in the chow hall, eyes downturned and far away, shoulders hunched while he thinks about his own mortality, Kyle starts slightly as John pats him on the shoulder.

“Come home to mine this weekend. We got leave, the missus would love to see ya.”

John’s rewarded with a small spark of happiness in Kyle’s dark orbs, a little flare that tells him he’s making the right decision. The younger man nods, looking marginally cheered by the prospect of a good meal and John’s ever so pretty wife doting on him.

The first evening goes exactly as planned, you’re overjoyed to see them both, fluttering around Kyle and dragging him by the hand to look at the strawberries you’re growing in the garden. Price can see the grin curling Kyle’s face at your touch, the dark cloud of anxiety lifting from his shoulders with every step he takes behind you.

Later, nestled between your thighs, Mr Price asks you for a favour. Thick fingers curled upwards to his rough knuckles, he plants heavy kisses over the skin of your inner leg until you’re close. The burning embers of desire behind your eyelids, you hear his low rumbling voice and feel the vibration of it across your weeping pussy.

“You gonna be a good girl, give Kyle the full treatment this weekend? He needs to blow off steam, n you’re always happy to help eh?”

You let out a whimper as his touch scorches the plush fabric of your inner walls, keeping you just at the precipice where he knows you’ll be more pliant. It’s not lost on John that you get noticeably wetter at the mention of Kyle, something he plays into with every stroke, fingertips withdrawing to the seams of your cunt then plunging deeper still.

“Handsome lad is our Kyle, you’ll see him right won’t you. Need him back to square darlin. Team only works with him firing on all four cylinders. Wouldn’t ask it of you sweet thing, but I know you can get the job done.”

John talks to you like you’re his most fragile recruit, some new, shy creature that needs coaxing out of her shell. With a nod and yet another moan, you comply, always so eager to please. Happily John fastens his mouth over your clit, tongue swimming in you until his beard is wet with slick and you’re sobbing in earnest at the pleasure of it.

When dawn breaks, light and airy, you take your orders seriously. Scratching soothing patterns into Kyle’s scalp at breakfast every time you pass him, coming up behind his body while he washes dishes so that he can feel the voluminous swell of your form against his weathered, lean one. To begin with, he seems vaguely bemused, glancing at John surreptitiously beneath ebony coloured brows. The only reaction he finds in his Captain’s face however is a calm acknowledgement.

So Kyle allows himself to slip into the fantasy that you’re made for his eyes also. When you sit close to him in the garden he takes your fingers in his own, runs his mouth along the column of your throat until you whine and bat your lashes. At dinner he hooks his foot around your calf, pulling you closer to him beneath the beaten oak table.

By the time dusk is creeping across the landscape around the house, Kyle is watching you wolfishly, amber gaze levelled at your body like a hawk, observing each sinuous breath you take. Shooting your husband an irresistibly sultry look, you lean close to Kyle and kiss his cheek. Your smaller palm against his, he lets you tug him onto his feet and towards the stairs. Coquettish and playful, every squeeze of Kyle’s fingers in your own makes him weak at the knees.

He freezes at the first step, glancing back at John for that resounding approval. Kyle gets a nod in response.

“Go ahead soldier. Take ya rest. It’s earned.”

John pours himself a finger of scotch, snipping the end off his faithful cigar, then follows you both. Kyle barely glances up when he settles himself in the corner, the flare of his lighter illuminating the darkening room. His Sergeant has you sitting spread across his lap, two hands cupping your face while he gets entirely lost in the nips and sucks you’re placing on his neck.

Your sharp love bite makes Kyle grunt, swollen pupils beginning to eclipse the tigerish colour of his irises.

“Fucking ‘ell.” He breathes, taking you in while slowly you start to undo his shirt, letting your fingertips brush the honed torso beneath. Kyle sucks his lower lip between white teeth while you play with him, gently scratching along the ridges of muscle across his shoulders and digging one nail into the bud of his nipple.

Kyle watches you undress holding the edge of the bed-frame like it’s going to vanish beneath him, observing the way you’re revealed to his stare with a potent lust close to madness. He scoops your vacated panties off the floor from between your legs, wrapping them around one fist tightly until his fingers turn red. He needs grounding, a soft place to land after the tumult of The last few weeks. To know he is loved and there is life left to be lived.

John’s face is obscured by grey, curling fumes. But the evidence of his own arousal presents itself neatly in the form of a growing bulge aligned with his right thigh. This isn’t about him however, although the enjoyment of watching another man straining against his own boxers for you, is a welcome addition to the fray.

Quickly Kyle tries to take the lead, shucking off his jeans and drawing you back into him, between two thighs. You have your orders though, now isn’t the time for Kyle to perform. He does that well enough under fire. It’s a moment for his mind to be occupied so thoroughly, he forgets about falling out of helicopters, tracing the scum of humanity and poisonous warheads. With the dedication you place into all things, you unwind your underwear from his purpling arm, and wrap it around both of Kyle’s hands. Without the need for words he understands, offers up no complaints when you place your favourite sleeping mask over his handsome face.

Sinking to your knees, you roll down his boxers, letting his rigid cock hang between you both. Some of the air is sucked out of the room at that gesture. Kyle’s got length on John, the mouthwatering deep caramel of his skin fading into a thick, pulsing crown, the leaking of his spend already visable and beaded there.

Just the sight of it makes your toes curl, dampness gathering between your thighs at the thought of the cushion of his prick hitting every pleasurable angle you have to offer. Kyle lets out a low hiss when your warm lips encircle him, tongue seeking out the plump blood vessels that line his shaft. His hands clench against the hair on his thighs, so you link your own through them, guiding his surrender, easing him into peace.

The small gags and sucks you make are enough to tease John to depravity, undoing his flies to release the raging tension building beneath them. Easily you work Kyle into a fervour of grunts and moans, fingers still laced against his, tongue tracing his briny slit as he starts to jerk faster against the back of your throat.

But he needs the warmth of your cunt, that heady mixture of your arousal with his. So lightly he moves you off him, blinded by the silk over his brows, Kyle’s lips search for yours, finding them readily and tasting himself on your tongue. That forces a deep groan from his chest, strong arms scooping you up towards him, desperate to finish inside your tight core.

Kyle’s head hits the pillows, his hold full of you. It’s bliss, his head finally quiet, nothing stirring within the recesses there but coiling lust. The absence of his vision is comforting, he doesn’t need to be anything tonight, there’s no one to perform for or guard against. It’s just you and him, your blazing slick now sliding against his shaft, spreading the tantalising wetness between you. You’re utterly drenched, desperate for him, and the sound of it makes John and Kyle both huff.

You ride him gently at first, eyes blurring as your body struggles to accommodate his cock, bullying yourself with it until stars start to pop under each watering lid. Kyle runs his hand over every plane of your stature, lost inside you, breaching the tight grip of your pussy.

“Come on love. Can take ‘im deeper than that. Show my boy what you’re made of.” John growls, making you shudder, dominance dripping from every word like syrup. Curling yourself against Kyle’s chest, you relax into him, his fingers spreading you wider than you’ve ever been in your life. He bottoms out with a low noise in the back of his throat, while you cry out into the night, drawing him to that seamless void of ecstasy.

Each thrust you give him is languid, luxurious, the slap of skin melding into a soundtrack. Fleetingly you throw John a look, one he returns with ardent pride that makes your heart swell.

The demons of death are firmly behind him, Kyle can feel every inch of you, the caress of your body in time with his own, nipples grazing the light hairs on his pecs. Gentle hips rock over him, drawing out each morsel of mortal uncertainty until he can feel the blooming knot of a climax inching over his thighs.

“M’gonna cum.” He whispers into your ear, gripping the flesh of you hard enough to bruise. Then he spills, the throb and saturating warmth spreading inside you is enough to tip your heart into the haze along with him. Arching, taking him to the root, together you ride it out, while John’s knuckles turn white against the leather of the chair beneath him.

A lazy night unfurls around you all. Kyle seeking more of that abject blankness only a good fuck can provide a man with on some occasions. He screws you dumb, leaves fingerprints over your stomach while he licks you clean, makes your body a vessel for his own therapy.

You don’t mind, letting Kyle drift off to sleep on your chest, while John plants a kiss on your forehead and takes the spare room.

“Wotcha. How was the weekend at Caps ‘ouse?” Simon asks, while Kyle loads gear out of his car back on base.

“Good.” Kyle replies airily. “His wife is just such a sweet’art.”

@pxssygxblin @sigrid666 @cutiecusp @murder-hobo @lanalafey