#but make no mistake i will sexualize body hair in women for all of us. renee promise youll stop shaving. For me

[dayurno]

Do you think Kevin should have chest hair let's discuss

i dont know if he SHOULD but im pretty sure he would! although i will say in my minds eye kevin is annoying and particular about body hair the way he is about everything else so i think even though he does have periods where he doesnt shave it, most of the time he does make an effort at least in more visible areas because it doesnt fit with his media persona to grow old 🥹 but i think if there are no events he wouldn’t bother with shaving as much

thats only for upper body though i dont think hes shaving his legs or anything and actually no one should 📸

[bucks-babe]

See What I See

Pairing: Husband!Dilf!Bucky x Wife!Milf! f reader

Summary: You husband shows you how much he loves your postpartum body

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Slight angst (Petal is insecure about her body after birth), postpartum sex, fluffy smut, safe sex (for once), body worship, they are in love, stretch marks, weight gain, struggles with weight loss, lactation kink?, husband kink?, lube, fingering f!rec, p in v, oral f!rec, praise kink, talk about sexual dysfunction, struggling to orgasm, sex toy (vibrator), Bucky is the perfect man, safe to say that he is officially a Dilf, mentions of masturbation, mentions of their daughter, small mention of a hypothetical fire and burns (like one line)

A/N: Part 2 of Let Me Be of Service but can be read alone. Don't know how good this will be but here it is. Thanks to my girl, @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading; however, any and all mistakes are my own

You know that Bucky is getting antsy; he’ll never say it, but he misses your body, craves the warmth of you engulfing him in your tight heat. Even more than that, he misses holding you, having you sit in his lap, his arms wrapped around you, every part of your body pressed against his, your nightly cuddles, all of it.

He knows that your body has gone through a lot, but he needs to be close to you again, sex or not, he just wants to hold you. Of course, he’ll never say anything; he doesn’t want to pressure you into having sex with him. He’s been patiently waiting to make love to you for eleven weeks. Recently, he and his right hand have been best friends.

Tonight is the first night that he’s able to take you on a date. It’s not a very lavish date - takeout and a movie, but you didn’t want to leave the house, too much packing with your padded bra that you would have to change, and the thought of leaking through your dress was too much to handle. 

The date was perfect, finally able to feel like yourself again; you weren’t mom and dad, but Duckie and Petal. It’s not like you don’t want to have sex with your husband, quite the opposite, but between little Bug and your hormones you’ve been struggling. On top of that, the insecurities about your body have been running rampant in your mind.

Your breasts aren’t as perky, stomach softer than it's ever been, raised stretch marks cover your stomach, breasts, and thighs, cellulite dimpling the fat on your ass and thighs. Your body isn’t the same as it was before. You knew that it wasn’t going to be the same, but you didn’t expect such a drastic change. Other women seem to be able to lose their pregnancy weight in weeks, but you’ve somehow gained weight. Maybe it was because Bucky made sure that you were eating, saying that you needed your nutrients to feed Bug, but it didn’t help your confidence either way.

But by the end of the night you weren’t thinking about that, you were thinking about how sexy your man looked in his blue button up, hair perfectly styled, your favorite scent on his skin - you wanted him. It started slowly, gently straddling his lap.

“Petal, what are you doing?” He wasn’t going to complain about your position, warm palms already tracing the exposed flesh of your thighs.

“You just look so good, Duckie. Could eat you right up.” You place your hands on his shoulders, lightly grinding your pantie clad core against his already hard bulge. The lopsided smirk on his face makes your cunt pulse with need. “S’been too long.”

“I’ll wait forever and a day for you, Petal.” His right hand cups your chin, leading your lips to his. Your shared moans mix together, only sharing pecks for too long, never sharing deep, languid kisses like you used to. He flicks his tongue on your lower lip and without hesitation you open up.

The kiss doesn’t speed up. Bucky has waited too long to rush this moment. His left hand moves to your hip, encouraging you to grind against him. At the first motion, Bucky breaks the kiss, tipping his head back, looking at you with half lidded eyes, pupils blown and a dopey smile on his face. “Petal, you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Bucky catches the way your demeanor shifts, almost cringing away from his praise. “I mean it. You’re so fucking perfect.” The movement of your hips stop completely and you try to leave his lap but Bucky only pulls you closer.

“Duckie, I don’t look the same as I used to. I’m scared you won’t find me attractive anymore.” The words come out so easily. It’s your Bucky; you could tell him anything.

“Ah, ah, Petal, I will not tolerate you talking about my wife like that, you hear me? This perfect body, all those changes that you think ruin you? Fuck, they make me fall harder for you if that’s even possible. You gave me my daughter; how could I think that you are less than the goddess you are?” 

“Duckie, I..” He cuts you off, his eyes full of sorrow for not making you see how wonderful you are sooner.

“Shh, let me show you. Let me show you what you do to me.” You nod, trusting him to bring you to the surface. He starts with feather light kisses down your neck, tongue lapping at the sheen of sweat starting to form. “Skin so soft, tastes so good.”

Easing one of the straps from your sundress down your shoulder, he trails his lips all the way down your arm, eyes meeting yours as he gets lower. He does the same on the other side, only pressing extra kisses to your ring. You can feel his grin against your skin as he sucks on your collarbones.

Your breath hitches as he lowers the fabric, exposing your sensitive breasts to him, cupping one in each hand. “Perfect fucking tits. So beautiful, feeding our baby, keeping her strong and healthy. You do that, Petal, your body does that for her.” A lump begins to form in your throat, his gentle touches and praises almost too much and he isn’t even inside you yet.

As his thumbs graze your nipples, milk leaks out. “Oh my god, Duckie, I’m so sorry.” Before you can move to clean them up, Bucky latches on, suckling, his eyes locking onto yours. A heady moan leaves your lips; breastfeeding wasn’t something that was pleasurable. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but the sight of Bucky latched on is erotic, your husband worshiping your breasts has your pussy clenching around nothing.

A distinct pop sounds out as he pulls off of your nipple, only to move on to the other. You can’t control the swirl of your hips against his crotch or the continuous leaking of your breasts. “Almost as good as your pussy, but nothing can beat the taste of my sweet girl. C’mon, let me take you to bed.”

He picks you up with ease, your naked breasts rubbing against his shirt, soaking the front of it. In the room, he sets you down, pulling off the rest of your dress, letting it pool at your feet, taking your hand as you step out. You whimper at the sight of his hand rubbing his bulge. “Duckie, please, need you.” 

“In time, sweetheart. I’m not done with your body just yet.” With one hand on your waist and one on your head, he lowers you to the bed, only your panties remaining. “Don’t know how you’re so goddamn gorgeous.” You feel your body go lax as he crawls over you, lips tracing every mark on your stomach, moaning at the soft skin there.

“Love these stretch marks. Makes me so hard knowing that my baby did this to you. My baby gave you these pretty stripes.” Your legs fall open on their own accord, desperate for his mouth or fingers to touch your pussy. But he only does the same thing to the stretch marks on your thighs, sucking bruises the closer he gets to your cunt, and you’re sure that you’re dripping.

“Duckie, please I need you to touch my pussy. You make me feel so good, s’been so long.” Bucky groans at the breathy moans leaving your perfect lips. He keeps his eyes on yours as he eases your underwear down your legs and throws them across the room.

Still holding eye contact, Bucky brings his middle finger to your core. To both of your surprise, you aren’t wet - at all. Mentally you were so turned on but physically your body wasn’t. “I don’t, Duckie, it’s not, you didn’t.” You don’t know what you were trying to say, embarrassment flooding your stomach. 

“I know, Petal, s’not your fault. It happens, nothing to be embarrassed about.” The love and safety in his eyes relax you. Bucky leans down, tongue running through your slit, pulling back just to spit on your clit. “Still the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Only pussy I want to see for the rest of my life.” Laying flat on the bed, Bucky lifts your thighs on his shoulder and dives back in, purposefully getting his spit all over your cunt, acting as lube for his motions.

Bucky’s always known exactly how to fuck you, how to lick you, to make you cum, but the first suck has your body jerking, a hiss escaping you. “Duckie, just lick, please, too sensitive.” He doesn’t pull away from your center but changes from sucking to licking. Your hand drops down to thread through his hair. “Just like that, baby. Love your tongue on me.”

You see his hips grind down on the bed, the vibrations of his moan almost send you over the edge. “Give me your fingers, please.” Bucky has to use all the restraint in his body not to cum on the bed; it’s been too long since he’s heard your pretty moans. His middle finger teases your entrance, slowly sliding in, groaning at the tightness around his finger. 

“Oh, shit, m’gonna cum, don’t stop, just like that.” Your hips grind against his face, chasing more of him, pussy pulsing around his digit. He keeps the same pace, not changing the rhythm at all, but your orgasm is just out of reach. Vibrations of his encouragement don’t do anything and your orgasm slowly fades away.

Tapping on his head, Bucky pulls away, clearly confused as to why you wanted him to stop. “Can’t cum, Duck.”

“Why’d you stop me? You know I’ll go until you soak my face, Petal.”

“Because I could feel it, that I wasn’t going to cum.” You run your hands down your face, groaning in frustration. “I’m sorry, I ruined the moment. If you want I can suck you off.” Bucky only raises an eyebrow, clearly offended. “Duckie, I haven’t done anything for you in almost three months. I can’t leave you high and dry.” 

“Get over here.” He swifty pulls you onto his lap, grabbing both sides of your face. “First of all, you can never ruin the moment. When you were still pregnant you accidentally pissed on me and I still finished fucking you. You think that some trouble cumming is going to ruin the moment?” You suck your teeth at his pointed look but don’t interrupt him.

“Second of all, and this one is very important. You will never and I mean never do anything that you do not want to do. I don’t give a shit if we haven’t had sex in three years; I will not make you feel like you have to please me.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I do, but I don’t want to disappoint you if I can’t cum. Don’t want you to think it’s your fault. I want to feel you inside me, but what if I can’t cum? What if it isn’t good for you? What if I’m loose and it's not the same?” Bucky rubs his thumbs through your tears before they fall down your face.

“Petal, my perfect wife,” he presses soft kisses to both your eyes, “all I want is to make you feel good, show you how much I love your body.” Gently, he lays down, pulling you on top of him again. “Of course it’s going to be different. You gave birth, sweetheart, but that doesn’t mean that your little pussy isn’t going to make me bust.” You swallow, trying not to cry again. “Come here.”

He quickly pulls his shirt off and tosses it across the room, pulling you down, feeling your naked chest against his, a few droplets of milk leaking out. You bury your head in his neck, breathing in his comforting scent. Tracing his hands up and down your back, you feel your body go lax, missing being so close to your husband. “My pretty Petal, your little pussy was squeezing my finger so damn tight that I don’t know if she can still take my cock.”

You perk up at his words. “Really?” Bucky giggles at how easy it was to make you feel better. It wasn’t a lie either, after so long of not stretching around his cock your pussy forgot how to welcome him. “Can we, can we try again?” Grinning at your question, Bucky reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing a condom, lube, and your favorite vibrator. “Duckie, when did you buy condoms?”

A blush creeps up his cheeks. “When you got cleared for sex.” At the look on your face he quickly explains himself. “Not that I was expecting anything. I just wanted to be prepared, you know, since you’re extra fertile after giving birth. And I wouldn’t complain about having another but I figured you would want to wait a bit, because we just had little Bug but-” You cut him off with a deep kiss, his hands immediately caressing your body.

“I love you, you’re the perfect husband, you know that?” 

“Well, you married me for a reason.” You just shook your head at him in disbelief, grinding your hips against his, drawing a groan from him.

“I want you inside of me, Duckie. Can I please have your cock.” Bucky groans, throwing his head back. Flipping you both over and standing up, Bucky takes off the rest of his clothes. “Shit, I almost forgot how beautiful you are, Duckie.”

Climbing back on top of you, he smirks at you. “I would never forget how gorgeous you are, and I’ll be damned if I let you forget either.” You almost drool at the sight of your sculpted husband rolling the condom down his thick cock. “Damn, Petal, I can’t remember the last time we used one of these. Could barely remember how to put it on, maybe I should have asked for help.”

“Oh my god, you’re unbelievable.” No matter where you are, Bucky always has to make a joke. Half of the reason is because he loves to see you smile, but the other half is because you make him comfortable enough to leave all inhibitions at the door.

His warm hands gently spread your legs, allowing him to settle in between. “Holy fuck. I’m not gonna fucking last, I can guarentee it. Look at you, all spread out for me, all your curves - pulchritudinous.”

The clenching of your cunt is ignored at his last word. “What the fuck did you just say? Pulchritudinous? Really?” Bucky’s eyes snap back to yours, previously latched onto your body, a huge smile gracing his features, the cutest giggle leaving him, eyes bright and shining.

“Sorry, Petal, pussy got me feeling philosophical.” Your mouth falls open and you blink at him - once, twice, before bursting out in laughter.

“There is something wrong with you.”

“But you love it.”

“I do, but are you going to fuck me or not?”

“No, Petal, I’m going to make love to you.”

He grabs the lube, letting a glob fall onto your cunt before rubbing it in, cooing at the hiss you let out from the coldness. “Are you ready, sweet girl?” Your breathy yes has Bucky lining his tip up. “Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?” You nod, reaching out to grab his hands.

Callused fingers rub the back of your hands, soothing your nerves. Somewhere along that way, you’ve relaxed, mind no longer worried about how you look, not when Bucky is worshiping every inch of you. Easing in, you both gasp, Bucky at how tight and warm you feel, you at the uncomfortable stretch. “Wait, Duckie.” Bucky immediately stops, only his tip inside. 

“You alright, Petal?” You close your eyes, nodding between deep breaths. The rhythmic pulsing of your tight cunt has your husband holding in a groan. His hands run up and down your thighs, resting them over his own, using his position to take in how beautiful you are, soft belly on display, heaving, wet breasts, the most beautiful stretch marks lining your belly and thighs. He catches the bright pink of your vibrator out of the corner of his eye, reaching out to grab it, slowly tracing it on your inner thighs.

“Yeah, just need a minute. Need more lube, please.” You're ready for the chill this time as he adds more lube. “Can you use the vibrator while I relax, please?” It takes every muscle in Bucky’s body to not slam the rest of the way into you, pounding your perfect pussy with your toy on high, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you, but he knows you need time.

He starts on the lowest setting, trailing it around your lips, feeling the vibrations on his cock, before gently placing it on your clit. “Oh.” Your little gasp has Bucky leaking precum into the condom. Slowly, you start to roll your hips, taking a little more of his cock each time, chasing the pleasure from the toy.

“That’s it, good girl.” You squeeze the hand that’s still laced with yours, soft moans leaving your lips at his praise. “Take what you need, Petal, I got you.” The ache in your cunt dies down little by little, still trying to accept his cock after months of recovery. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, just as good as I remember. Fuck, maybe even better. You wanna know why, Petal?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, words coming out between breathy groans. “Because this perfect pussy, this perfect body, gave me the most beautiful gift. Can feel you clenching around me, so close to cumming on your husband’s cock.”

You don’t even realize that you’ve taken his entire length inside of you until the warmth of his heavy balls rests against your ass. Clit pulsing under the tiny bullet, ready to let go and give your husband what he wants. “M’gonna cum, oh, please. Baby, I need it, been your good girl. Let me cum.”

Your eyes open, meeting Bucky’s loving gaze. “Always been my good girl, Petal. I’ve got you, let your husband take care of you. Cum for me, soak my cock, m’already so close for you.” It doesn’t take much to send you over the edge, Bucky doing everything in his power to empty your mind, making you only know the pleasure he’s giving you. 

“Fuck, baby.” You can’t finish the rest of your sentence, eyes rolling back as your orgasm rolls over you. Bucky leans down, taking your lips in his before his own release floods into the condom, his groans falling into your mouth. You both stay like that for a while, breathing in each other’s scent, words of praise whispered in your ear.

Eventually, Bucky rolls off, taking off the used condom and tossing it in the trash. “Could’ve given it to me, Duckie, missed the taste of your cum.” You giggle at Bucky’s groan.

“I could get it out from the trash?” He words it like a question, but you know he is 100% serious.

“No, you dirtball.” Bucky laughs before scooping you up into his arms, holding you so close to him that you can feel every breath he takes. 

“Petal, I will spend the rest of my life proving to you how beautiful you are. It doesn’t matter if we have another baby, we get old together, you get in a fire and burn 90% of your body.”

You smack his arm at his last point. “Duckie! Don’t say that or it’ll end up happening and I don’t want to go through that.”

“Neither do I, Petal, but I’m letting you know that my cock will always be hard for you, even when I’m 80.”

“You don’t think you’re going to need pills by then?”

“Of course not, not when I have you. It would be impossible for me to not get hard when it comes to you.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Hell, I’ll probably still be hard when I’m dead.”

“Duckie!”

He only laughs and somehow pulls you even closer. “I plan to spend the rest of my life with you, Petal. You’re the love of my life and it breaks my heart that you don’t see what I see.”

The mood in the room suddenly changes. “You’re my soulmate, Duckie, and it may take some time, but I think it would be impossible to not feel like I’m the sexiest woman alive when I’m with you.”

“Good, because it’s the truth and I get to have you all to myself.” You fall asleep in his arms feeling much better about your body, already planning on how you’re going to reward him for being the perfect husband. Maybe you’ll wake him up with the sloppiest blowjob. Yeah, he’ll love that.

[nothorses]

What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?

It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.

It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.

Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.

Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?

- [ ]

I think trying to find one perfect answer that applies universally is the critical mistake here. I mean, I am a gay man. I say this because as of yet, that's the clearest answer I have for myself personally; maybe there's a possibility I experience attraction to a woman at some point (maybe I already have???), but I don't really have clarity on that right now, and it doesn't serve me to shape or explain my identity around "maybe"s.

Trying to pinpoint exactly what it is that attracts me to other men, specifically, is also like... not that useful. I used to find myself really attracted to feminine men specifically; not feminine women, not masculine women, not masculine men, not androgynous anyone, but feminine men. Specifically, men who were feminine in a very particular, long-hair-certain-attitude kind of way.

Recently, I have found myself appreciating, more and more, a certain kind of masculine body type and gay masculinity that I was never really interested in before. I find it incredibly hot. A lot of that coincides with things I appreciate about my partner, too, and things I find myself appreciating more about my partner as time goes on- as well as things my partner expresses appreciation for about me!

And I haven't even touched on attraction to nonbinary folks here because, like, it's a massive spectrum. "Nonbinary" means something different for every individual nonbinary person. To my mind, of course there's a possibility I experience attraction to a nonbinary person; how they identity, present, and what attracts me to them are all even more impossible to know for certain than the "maybe"s and the "why"s around my attraction (or lack thereof) to men and women.

My relationship to my own orientation was vastly different pre-testosterone versus post-testosterone, too. I was much more reserved and uncomfortable with relationships and attraction before I started T, and the only dynamic I ever felt was even a little bit tolerable was one where I was the "masculine woman" in a lesbian relationship. I didn't realize until very shortly after starting T that, actually, I like men. A lot. I felt comfortable with my body and my masculinity in a way I never had been before, and I felt comfortable in relationships with men; I no longer felt like I was The Woman By Default in contrast.

And that's all just me! This is my personal, specific, individual relationship to attraction, and how gender- both others' and my own- factors into my relationship with orientation.

I don't think it's necessarily inborn, or completely unchanging for everyone. I also don't think the same factors apply for everyone. I think a lot of different things can be true for different people, all at once, and it's not really useful to try to pinpoint a specific, universal explanation for orientation.

Everyone has a different relationship to orientation and gender; everyone will be influenced differently by cultural factors, by their own ways of processing and understanding the world around them, by the ways different aspects of their culture, identity, personality, and inborn traits and how they all interact with one another, and sure, maybe even by biological factors and tendencies.

Trying to solve this puzzle for the entire world of diverse human beings isn't going to make it any easier to understand yourself. Focus on what this all means for you, personally, and accept that you will never, can never, fully and perfectly understand anyone else's internal world and workings. Things get a lot easier when you can let go of that & just appreciate the diversity of human experiences, y'know?

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 25 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

“Surrender to me. I will eat this sweet pussy every morning for breakfast. I will be your slave.”

You don’t believe him, of course, but there is a growing desperation in his pleas that fills you with warning. He’s been patient with you, but you wonder if someday this man will not snap.

He has you tied up again.

You’d watched him produce the red ropes earlier with resignation, but surprisingly, no fear. You realize that you have arrived at a place of relative numb, where you have accepted he will not satisfy you without your submission, but you trust him not to really hurt you.

Drive you absolutely batshit insane, maybe. But not hurt you.

You’ve had time to think about it, and you know there are so many things he could have done by now to really win your compliance. He could have beat you. Starved you. Drugged you. All the usual dirty tricks men have used to keep independent women in line over the millennia.

He has not so much as spanked you, really, except for that once the other day, and even you know that had been child’s play.

More and more, you have come to understand that this man has been through it. He’s told you more about his brutal past, curled up with his head in your lap, spilling his soul to you while you stroked his dark hair. You have discovered that once he feels safe, the taciturn Mr. Wick actually has a lot to say.

If you hadn’t been sleeping beside him, the signs of PTSD might have escaped your notice. But after over a week in his non-stop company, you have woken beside him when he’s riddled with night terrors, his strong hands gripping your body hard enough to leave bruises. Sometimes he zones out, and you know he's not really seeing the room you're in. 

After hearing about his training (as a fucking child soldier!) and the things he had to do to survive over the years working for the Bratva, trapped in a cycle of violence he had little power to escape or control, you honestly think it’s a miracle that he’s come out of it as intact as he has—and goddamn if there isn’t a part of you that wonders if you cannot bring him back.

You should know better by now, than to think you can fix a man with your love. It’s a mistake you’ve made before, in your younger years, and you should know that nothing lies down that path but disappointment and heartbreak. But…what else do you have to do with your time?

Take up knitting?

You had watched him with a distant fascination, as he looped your wrists in the cord, securing them with beautiful knots before affixing your spread arms to the metal headboard. You had thought the curled iron design of the bed to be very pretty, but now you understand the form of it is perfect for knotting ropes in various positions.

You’re not sure how long he’s been torturing you with his tongue, bringing you right to the edge licking your clit with his fingers buried inside you, before withdrawing right at the last moment. He always fucking knows, even when you do your best to remain still as a stone. You have been going through your days in a constant state of low-burning arousal, perpetually wet with slick and uncomfortably swollen. You feel where his body has been every time you sit down, keenly aware of what he’s done, and what he hasn’t allowed you.  

“My poor darling,” he continues to taunt you, taking a break to nip at the inside of your thigh, your soft flesh already riddled with little bruises. “Why do this to yourself, when with three little words I could set you free?”

You cannot hold in your ragged sigh. “It’s kind of nostalgic really, just like my first boyfriend in high-school. Getting fucked constantly with no real hope of satisfaction…”

Wick responds to this with a snarl, the way you knew he would. Jesus Christ but his teeth are sharp. Suddenly he sucks at your clit with a vengeance, making you squirm and cry out in surprise. Of course he stops before you even have the chance to make use of the friction.

“I do not want to hear about the other men you’ve had in your life,” he cautions you. “I’m the only one who counts now.”

“Could have fooled me.”

When he gets on his knees with a dark look, you do feel some satisfaction. You’ve learned if you piss him off enough, he’ll try to punish you by taking his pleasure and leaving you hanging. At this point, you’re just relieved that it’s over.

“That smart mouth needs filling,” he growls, guiding his tip to your lips, and you let him fuck your face, sucking his glans messily with a swirl of your tongue the way you’ve learned drives him mad. The only time he catches a hint of teeth is not your fault, but his, in his enthusiasm for trying to shove his cock down your throat. It’s not long before he cums, spilling hot seed across your tongue. Some of it dribbles down your chin, and he wipes it across your lips with narrowed eyes, daring you to spit it out.

You’re foolhardy, but you’re not stupid. You lap it from his finger like a good girl, watching the post-orgasm glaze take over his midnight dark eyes.

The monster will be sated, for a little while.

You’ve bought yourself time, but no real relief.

[darylsfavoritegirl]

HEYYYY IM HONESTLY SO FUCKING EXCITED WHAT DO YOU THINK ABT THESE HEADCANONS bc i wanted to do smth like for a while i just never could come up with anything but its easy in a sense sooo here you gooou

SFW

• I don't think his mommy issues are necessarily sexual, sometimes you would do something that would invoke that "motherly" "safe" or "warm" feeling inside of him. He would never be able to understand what it was or would tell anyone about it. It'd be one of the reasons why he'd care for you as much as he did. You'd make him feel safe by saying something or embracing your arms around him in a certain way which would make him commemorate his mother, though because his mom died when he was young, he wouldn't be able to understand it at all bc he doesn't consciously remember those moments with her. This man fr would think you'd cast a spell on him :D

• I just know this man is a feminist in the core. Growing up, he'd always hear Merle running his mouth about women and how they were like this and they were like that, overall his ignorant, blunt, dumb thoughts about women. He would witness his dad going off on benders with different women each time and how he'd vulgarly talk about them later. And hell maybe he's disrespected women or been really cruel to them but he still regrets it to this time and yeah we all know this man suffers in redemption, always trying to make up for his past mistakes and wrongs. Yet I'm %100 sure he loves seeing women thrive, turning into their best selves or just witness them be real badass and it might even give him some kind of arousal 👀👀. He is into that shit. I said what I said.

• One of his love languages is definitely showing you the places he'd used to spend his time in. Could be a special spot in the woods, could be a small cabin he'd used to get lit with people. Hell it could be random corner in town whenever you'd have to be in downtown for various reasons. He wouldn't even mind if those places brought him bad memories or unpleasant ones. He'd just like being there with you, doing whole ass story times and watch you react them with a wide-eyed expression. He did have a weird and a "crazy" life before the fall that'd make him feel like he was on mushrooms everytime just thinking about it. He'd love letting you know more and more about his past. It would just give him a reassuring feeling deep down. He would feel like it would bound you two together.

• That.man.has.a.sweet.tooth. He loves anything that has sugar. He'd always snack on candies or cookies or chocolates after a hangover. Or when he'd be on drugs. Sugar wakes him the fuck up and he loves the energy boost. He'd carry some candies in his pocket back in the day, eating them throughout the day when he'd feel his blood sugar dropping.

• He is definitely a car-date type of guy. He got more into it after the apocalpyse started and he met you. Sometimes you'd go on runs and you could sit in the car for hours, smoking, eating, talking or yk👀👀 if supplies you found weren't an emergency need. He absolutely savored those moments. You could sit for hours without speaking, in a complete silence. He appreciates quietude.

NSFW

• I know him having a breeding kink is well known and acknowledged but he's insane about it that it hurts. He loves seeing you all squirmed and whiny underneath him with all his cum inside of you, some of it dripping down your thighs. You couldn't always find the right pills for unplanned pregnancy risk and it WOULD drive him crazy to not be able to it.

• He just loves to see you messy beneath him. Hair all tangled, thighs shaking uncontrollably. Your fingers digging so deep on his shoulders that you'd cause his broad shoulders to bleed sometimes, he loved it. Your eyes are all glossy with pleasure. You both would love to go wild and leave sloppy kisses on eachother's bodies and wouldn't mind them drying on your bodies at all, leaving it all sticky.

• He loves being submissive as much as he loves being dominant. You can't convince me otherwise. If you gained his trust, he will be all yours, all needy beneath you while you ride his soul out of his damn body. Again, he adores a badass woman, a woman to take the lead. You would place your hands on his chest and sometimes hold his strong large biceps and he wouldn't dare to move an inch. He liked being vulnerable like that.

• He is just so patient it physically throws you over the edge. He'd get so close making you cum and he'd stop, teasing you with his tip or fingers or sometimes his tongue. He'd smirk at you and even make fun of you in a taunting way to overstimulate you and don't worry he'd make up for it with better ways. He knows what he is doing. It's just come natural to him.

• It's safe to say you are the one who teases him in the public most of the time, your feet tracing his legs up until it stops on his bulge under the table and he'd give a stern stare, trying to shrug and look indifferent as others would notice his suddenly-changing demenour. However, there'd be boring Alexandria dinners that Deanna would host and if you sat next to eachother, he'd place his large hand on your thigh and even dare to slip a finger on the fabric of your panties, starting to rub his middle finger harshly in circles while having full ass conversations with people and try to hide his subtle smirk bearing his face. He would do it rarely yet he'd be so good at it because no one would suspect a thing, he'd always make it look like he was resting his arm on your lap. You'd squirm under his warm touch and heat waves would wash all over you while trying to look normal as ever. And believe me, after those nights, when you'd confront about him about what he did at a dinner with 20 people, he'd act as if he doesn't understand a thing you're saying or would say "Don' kno' what yer talkin' 'bout." while shrugging his shoulders and turning to his side with a wicked grin.

FOOTNOTE

well this actually took shorter than i thought idk why i believed it would take me couple of days to finish one lmao i deadass wrote this in like an hour max ???? anyway i wish there were more but idc i was so impatient to post one of theseeee :)))

[msbigredmachine]

The Return (Jey Uso/OC)

You have your own reasons for wishing he just stayed his ass on Smackdown. Jey Uso/OC one-shot.

Warnings: SMUT

Word count: 3.6k

-------------

His baby girl is a stunning sight to behold, so much so that he stops in his tracks to drink you in from his vantage point next to the equipment crates lined up along the hallway backstage. The long locks of your honey-blond wig frame your beautiful face. Your world title belt gleams on your shoulder, shining as bright as the star that you are. Your eyes twinkle and your smile is wide and warm as you chat animatedly with Raquel Rodriguez. That smile used to be preserved for him and him alone, once upon a time. 

He may have come over to Raw to break away from the Bloodline, but it’s not the only reason he’s made the jump. Cody brought it up during their rather bizarre phone call, the American Nightmare weaponizing this information in that annoyingly eloquent manner he has perfected…

“I know you’re looking for a fresh start…but not just in the ring…I’m pretty sure there's a certain new Women’s champion you’d like to reunite with…”

Jey has been separated from you for a long time, admittedly by his own doing. It’s been torture. The hours have felt like days and the days like weeks. He’s yearned for your touch, your scent, the warmth of your smooth, soft skin, the taste of your lips. He’s stumbled through the rougher days by thinking about you and what you mean to him. He’s fantasized, and even pleasured himself, to mental snapshots of his past sexual adventures with you, paying tribute to the most incredible orgasms he’s ever experienced. He misses it all; the shudders of your voluptuous body, the pull of your wet, tight pussy around his dick, your fingers dragging across his hair and skin as you come apart for him, as he comes apart for you. The pillow talk and sweet words and soft kisses as you bask in the afterglow together.

The memories are beautiful, but he doesn’t want just ‘memories’ anymore. He’s made mistakes and he wants to fix them, and he only hopes you will let him. Five months is way too long to be without his favorite girl. He has to tread lightly, because even the nasty glare of Drew McIntyre and the conflicted countenance of Matt Riddle are tame compared to the wrath of a woman scorned.

A chill zips down your spine out of nowhere. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. A familiar men’s cologne invades your nasal ducts. The knowing look on Raquel’s face right before she slips away confirms the reason your body is reacting so strongly. Only one person does this to you, and he just debuted on Raw as a solo act.

Against your better judgment, you turn around. For what feels like an eternity, you remain frozen as his gorgeous, expressive eyes lock you in, bleeding out your surroundings and everything else until it’s just him, and you, and the pain and hurt he caused all those months ago. 

"Sup, champ," he greets, his hands in his jacket pockets, leveling you with his breathtaking smile. 

Clearing your throat, you break the trance and present him with your most platonic smile. “Welcome back. Cody must really like you to do what he did, considering y’all’s past.” 

Jey shrugs. “He surprised me, too. But whatever I gotta pay back to him, it’ll be worth it.” His eyes travel down the length of your body, appreciating the up-close view. You have on a cropped black tank top and a tight zip-up denim skirt that stops mid-thigh. Your legs are ensconced in knee high boots that have him biting his lip. However, the oversized biker jacket hanging halfway down your arms looks like it belongs to someone else, specifically a certain Señor Money in the Bank. Jey has heard the rumors. Apparently, you’ve moved on. He plans on testing that theory. 

“You look amazing, Y/N,” he compliments, his tongue darting out over his lips reflexively.

So does he. Your gaze wanders for a little longer than you’d like. The added bulk to his frame makes him look more intimidating and sexier. His abs are on full display behind his black hooded jacket. Then the dimples and the cheekbones and the full, kissable lips...He’s more mouthwatering than ever, calling out to you to take a bite.

When he moves in for a hug, you flinch and back away, maintaining your cold expression when he pulls back with disappointment. “Come on girl, don’t do me like that,” he sighs.

“Like what? Just cuz I said hi don’t mean I forgot about how you did me,” you answer coolly, “I’m being the bigger person here.” 

“Aw, babe, you breakin’ my heart right now.”

“Like you did mine?” you snap, “I ain’t your baby no more. You made sure of that.” He’s lucky you’re even addressing him after everything he’s put you through. Just this April after the Draft, Jey made the decision to leave you all alone on Raw and stay exclusively on Smackdown with his family. The same family who ultimately stabbed him in the back, something you would have never ever done to him in a million years. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back after two years of the most intense, deliciously chaotic entanglement in which you were a source of…comfort…for him, during his tumultuous time with the Bloodline. But, as you soon discovered, so was Kayla, and Liv, and Jakara from NXT, and some other chick named Rashida that he claimed was his childhood ‘bestie’. Somehow, you were roped into his weird harem of revolving women. But you stayed because he needed you…he told you so. He cared for you, he said, and like a fool, you believed him, because you wanted so badly for him to feel the way you felt about him.

Feel about him.

Shaking your head, you resolve to stand your ground. Nope. You will never be used again. You will not give into whatever game he’s trying to play, not this time. You don’t know why he’s come to Raw and you don’t care. You’re the Women’s World champion now. You no longer have room for fuckbois in your life and you need to let him know so.

Jey huffs, looking away for a second before turning back to you. “We need to talk,” he says.

“About what?”

“About us,” he whispers, licking his lips. “I miss you.”

His words cling to you, embracing you. But you shake them off. “Right. Miss me, or my pussy? Them other lame bitches ain’t tight or wet enough?”

Exhaling heavily, Jey meets your death glare head on. “Baby, I fucked up. I admit it. I been fuckin’ up when it comes to you. It’s on me, and I’m sorry. I wanna make things right between us, especially if we’re gonna be on the same show together.”

Scoffing at the words you’ve heard before, you toss your hair back haughtily. “Might be a little too late for that,” you inform him smugly.

“Really? Why? Cuz of your new man? Where his big ass at, anyway?” he taunts, looking over your shoulder for an unseen entity. 

“What are you talking about?” you retort, brushing off the guilt lurking for not being honest with him about Damian. Why feel guilty about someone who wasn't honest with you?

“I know about you and Priest. I know that’s his jacket you wearin’.”

You glare at him, incredulous. Is he seriously doing this? “You got no right to be jealous, Jey. Who I am or am not fucking is none of your business. And it’s not like he and I are official yet, so calm your tits.” You pause, wondering why you’re giving an explanation when you owe him nothing.

His lips pull into a smirk. “Huh. So you sayin’ I got a chance...”

“No, I did not say that!” You thought you could get through this unscathed. That a quick ‘Hello’ would suffice and you’d both move along. You didn’t expect him to lay it on you this thick and this quickly. He knows exactly what he’s doing, making you vulnerable with his sugary sweet words and his penetrating stare that sends a shiver of longing down your spine. 

"Stop looking at me like that," you hiss at him in that husky voice of yours that raises goosebumps all over his arms. 

“Can’t help it, baby. You beautiful as fuck,” he counters smoothly, stepping closer to you. 

“There you go again with the sweet talk. So am I supposed to just forgive you? Forgive and forget and fall right back into your arms? You got me fucked up, boy.”

It’s clear that you have no plans to make it easy for him. He doesn’t blame you. He’s done some unscrupulous things at your expense, none of which you deserved. But he can't stop his body from thrumming at the way your eyes speak volumes to him without using any words. He loves how your long lashes try to hide the real emotions swirling inside you, the hurt peeking through the bravado. You clutch your title to your chest, as though protecting yourself, hiding your body, forgetting that he’s since mastered every inch of it, every inch of you. He’s studied you long enough to detect your defense mechanisms. That’s how intimately he understands you. He has come to the realization that the connection he and you have is a lot more than just sex. His feelings for you run deep, far more than any other woman he’s messed around with.

He just needs to convince you that this is the case.

Taking your hand in his, Jey pulls you close, relieved when you don't shy away this time. He smiles down at you and has to stop himself from kissing your full lips. "Come kick it with ya boy later. Let's grab some dinner after the show. I got a lot of apologizing to do and I want to earn your trust back," he implores.

Just as you feared, your entire resolve starts to crumble at his plea. This is a bad idea. You’ve managed to recover from him once, and you risk relapsing if you allow this to happen. But god, he looks so good and smells even better. You can feel his chest rising and falling in rhythm with yours. Your gaze flickers to his lips, remembering how soft they feel against yours, his tongue dancing sensually with your own…

Jey sees through your hesitation and cranks up the pressure. "I promise I'll be good, I'ma keep my hands to myself if that's what you worried about." He releases your hand for emphasis.

As always, when it comes to this motherfucker, your emotions prevail. “Fine,” you concede with a roll of your eyes. “I got a backstage segment with Rhea in twenty minutes and then I’m done for the night. I’ll meet you right here afterwards.”

The smile that lights up his face thaws your heart a little. “A’ight. I’ll be here,” he says.

“Dinner, Jey. Nothing else,” you remind him sternly.

“Scout’s honor. I gotchu,” he says, as you turn away. He looks on with a smirk as you walk down the hallway, sensing your reluctance to part from him. “Let your man know you’ll be home before midnight!” he calls out.

“Whatever, Uso,” you shout back. “And stop staring at my ass!”

Jey snickers at that. He likes that you know him so well.

-----------------

"Mmmm, fuck!"

Your groans trigger his own, the deep, guttural sound filling your ears, thick with need and exertion. Your fingers thread through his blond mullet, pleasure surging through you like potent aftershocks as he pounds into you with breakneck speed, the movements rocking the Chevrolet Equinox marooned in a secluded corner of the empty parking lot. 

"God, I've missed this good pussy," Jey pants heavily against your neck, inhaling your intoxicating scent, “Fuck, you so wet. Missed you so much, babe.”

Damn it, you should have known…Known it was all a big set up from the jump. You should have smelled trouble coming when he let you order your favorite meal from the obscure little diner you frequented whenever you came to town; that it was a trap when he opted to invade your space by cornering you in the booth and not sitting across from you; You should have known better than to let him rub on your thigh all through dinner, should have steered the conversations back to less intimate, sexual topics. You should have pushed him away when he leaned in for the kiss he’d been seeking all night, knowing damn well that once your lips touched, you’d become so desperate for him that waiting to get to the hotel would no longer be an option. You should have known he rented this big ass SUV because the backseat would be more comfortable and private than any dark alley you could sneak into. You should have known better than to think tonight would turn out any other way; He’s learned a few tricks from his Tribal Chief cousin and carefully and deviously orchestrated this outcome knowing that you could never resist the charms of the man you are, deep down, still hopelessly in love with.

Jey pushes your legs back further towards your head, taking advantage of your famed flexibility, and plows his thick, meaty cock in and out of your pussy, creating the sexiest, filthiest wet noises. Each thrust is deeper and more demanding than the last as he bears down on you, his big body hunched over yours, making you take every inch of him. His grunts and your moans are the only things spoken, the only language understood right now. The smell of sex permeates the thinning air inside the car, the heat of passion scorching, suffocating you both in the most sensuous of ways.

Jey looks down between your bodies and smirks at what he sees. "Damn, look at that, look how wet your pussy is. You definitely missed Daddy," he groans, parting your legs wider for a better view. "This dick feel good, right baby?

“Aw, yes Daddy, you feel so good, fuck me,” your words trail away with a whimper, and you sink your nails into his newly tatted back as he obliges your request. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, lost to the sensation of his big dick plunging deeper inside your wet heat.

Truth be told, you have never had a lover like Jey Uso. Rough. Tender. Chaotic. Gentle. Primal. Passionate. He is all-consuming, a Samoan whirlwind of sexual energy and skill and stamina. He makes you feel like nothing else matters but you and him and the orgasmic moments you share. One look into his darkly luminous eyes and you’re gone every time, a puddle of ruined panties and pussy juice. He never fails to turn you upside down and inside out, expertly coaxing endless orgasms from you. You’re his marionette and he’s the puppet master, the true owner of your body and your soul and your entire being. 

And this is a stark reminder of that.

“Damian fuck you like this? Huh?” Jey asks, his sweaty brow furrowed with lust and a hint of curiosity as he scouts out his competition.

Definitely not. Damian is not bad in bed - quite the opposite, in fact. But his efforts can never compare to this. Too wrapped up in ecstasy to speak, you manage to shake your head no at the question, but it's not enough for Jey. His palm slips from your breast to swat your inner thigh, causing a stinging pain that reverberates through your heated skin and surges straight to the pressure point of your clit. 

“Use your words, baby,” he orders. He wants to hear you say it, to confirm what you’ve both known all along.

“No, Daddy…” you answer, your mouth falling open in a silent moan as he angles his hips, grinding himself right up against your g-spot the way you like it, his long, determined strokes hitting just right... 

“I know he don’t, cuz he don’t know this pussy like I do. This my pussy, baby girl. I can tell you missed this dick too, you grippin�� the shit outta me…”

As much as you hate to admit it, he’s spot on. You haven’t been fucked like this in so long and your kitty is singing for joy. This animalistic side of him as he drives into you is making you delirious. Waves of pleasure wash over you as he reverts to hard, steady, pounding thrusts, lodging his dick in your stomach. You glide your dainty hands all over his chest and abs, letting your fingernails scrape his sweat-slick skin. The slight shudders of his body and his whimpering groans as he reacts to your touch leave you all giddy inside. You dare to cradle his bearded face in your hands and hold his gaze. What stares back at you is so deep and intense and full of emotion, reflecting everything you’ve felt for each other in the past two years. 

“Jey…” you whisper after a long, charged moment.

“My baby girl,” Jey breathes back, “I lo-”

You don’t let him finish, tugging him down for a sloppy, unhurried kiss, winding your hips to match his thrusts and ride that edge with him as he moans into your mouth. This spurs him to nudge your thighs even further back with your toes touching the roof of the SUV, opening you up to more pummeling thrusts until your legs tremble in the air and you have to break the kiss from how breathless he's leaving you.

“Fuuuuck!”

“Uh huh, you comin’ for me, baby?” he asks, brushing your lips together again as his own release creeps ever closer. “I know you 'bout to nut. Lemme have it, come for Daddy.”

With one hand, he grips the seat above your head, his hips snapping into you, drilling you faster, harder. You're soaring higher and higher, and then, you crash, contracting around his throbbing shaft as you come so hard you start to convulse. Stars explode behind your eyelids as your arms tighten around his neck, holding on for dear life as you tumble headfirst into the sweet cavern of euphoria.

“Ahhh shit, goddamn, Y/N…” Jey moans along with you as his dick twitches inside your warm depths. You’re still coming all over him, your pussy squeezing and suckling every inch of him to the point that his body tenses on top of yours, and he grunts out, "Gah, finna come!"

Ripping himself out of you, he scrambles upright and pumps his slippery dick in his hand, releasing himself on your lower belly. Both of you moan at the sight of his warm, milky cum gushing all over your brown skin. His groans of pleasure are music to your ears. He keeps massaging his cock, ensuring he’s all emptied out, while his other hand runs up and down the back of your upturned thigh in a sensual, soothing touch.

“Fuck, I almost nutted in you. This pussy too damn good, babe," he pants, resting the semi-hard length on your pussy lips. Feeling it pulse temptingly between your folds, you close your thighs together before the thought of going another round can creep in. You squirm into a seated position and slowly start to clean yourself up, adjusting your clothes as Jey does the same with himself. When you’re both done, his arms come around you as he sweeps his lips, soft and inviting, over the crook of your neck, your cheek, and finally landing on your lips. Inevitably, you melt into his embrace, enjoying the warmth and affection that you’ve needed from him for months.

“You wanna know the real reason I switched brands?” he speaks up after a few moments, waiting for you to look at him. “It wasn’t just to get away from my family. I did it for you.”

The notion has lingered in your mind ever since you saw him return two nights ago at Payback, but to hear it uttered out loud ignites a reaction neither of you expect. 

“Don’t. Don’t do that,” you warn, shaking your head.

“Do what?”

Tears inexplicably fill your eyes as you speak. “That. You do it all the time. Say shit that sounds sweet and amazing only for you to do the opposite. I’m over that shit, okay?” 

A look of hurt clouds his handsome face. “Baby, I know I made a lot of mistakes that I regret. I own that shit. I also know I’d be a fool to fuck this up again. Real talk.” His beautiful eyes are sad and hopeful and pierce your soul. “I really miss us, baby girl. Truth is, I don’t feel right with no one else but you. I miss you. Don't you miss me?”

At this juncture, lying is pointless. “I do,” you admit, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye. “But I can’t handle you hurting me again, Jey. I won’t let you.”

Jey reaches up to catch the tear with a brush of his thumb, letting his hand linger on your soft cheek. “I know. That’s why I’m here. For you. I’m sorry about everything and I want us to start over. Can we start over?” He gazes intently at you, wanting to say more, but he holds back, shelving it for a more appropriate time. “Take me back. Give me another chance, baby. I’ll be better than I’ve ever been, I swear to you,” he continues softly. 

This man always makes you question how strong you really are. Each time you think you've escaped, he finds you and reels you back in, like steel to a magnet. Your brain wants to reject him, but your heart is desperate for him, craving to fall back into him and his empty promises. He has a hold on you that you probably will never be able to break free from, and maybe it’s time you accept this fate.

“I’ll think about it,” you conclude.

“I can grovel if you want. That's fine with me, baby. I’ma grovel as long as you want me to. I know you like the things I do when I’m on my knees.” He winks cheekily as you gasp, blushing profusely.

“Jey!”

“Matter of fact, you comin’ back to my suite with me. I’ma show you just how good I can grovel,” he adds. His straight white teeth sink into his bottom lip, and the heat that simmers in his eyes leaves you weak-kneed.

“Oh my god. What am I gonna do about you?” you lament.

His chuckle is joyous and relieved as he holds you tighter in his strong arms and repeatedly, playfully kisses your cheek. “Whatever you want, my baby girl. Whatever you want.”

You roll your eyes in response, but you fail at masking your grin as the thrill of reuniting with your man warms you all over. You figure that a couple extra hours in his company won't hurt. One night only.

Just tonight.

That's it.

Yeah.

THE END

-----------------

Thoughts? Should she believe him?

Please leave feedback/comments. I appreciate them as they help me improve my writing.

Thank you all so much for reading!

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[lotte22324]

Hi, this is my first Oneshot ever and I am kinda nervous for yall to see it. This idea randomly popped into my head, I don’t know why.

Also, English is not my first language, so please ignore the mistakes.

Warnings: mentioning of the case and connected SA (but only in the beginning)

Summary: You are a profiler at the BAU. You specialise in linguistic analysis and also in having a pretty cutsie style. You and Spencer are both working late on a case and his stupid long hair annoys him but you luckily got some hairclips with you :)

(These are the bows that I am talking about btw)

You and the team were on the way to Cleveland, attending to a particularly disturbing case. Multiple mutilated victims were found, all indicated signs of sexual assault, post mortem. All of them were women but none of them looked alike. The only thing that they had in common were the position in which they were found. They all were layed down carefully with their arms crossed above their chest.

"The arms are a sign of remorse right?“

"Yeah, it’s clear that the killer has a conflicted conscience in the connection to the murders.“ said Reid. You turned your head to the right side to see your fellow profiler. His hair was long, longer than ever before, he was wearing a purple dress shirt with s simple tie. His converse were matching to yours, the only thing in common with your wardrobe. You were wearing a skyblue blouse with a dark blue pair of pants. The outfit was professional, the hair not so much. You wore two hairclips in the front of your hair because they would often fall in front of your face which annoyed you. The clips had two pink bows attached to them and they matched your pink earrings and nails.

"If the unsub feels guilty about the murders, we might be able to convince him to give himself up“ remarked JJ. Emily looked at her skeptical and held up the letter that the unsub left at the last crime scene, one of six: She will never stop, only I can fix it! "This says otherwise“

"It is weird that he shows signs of remorse but he also seems extremely certain of his resason to murder, what does he need to fix?“ asked Reid while he knitted his eyebrows together, like he always did when he was thinking. It looked too cute, you couldn’t stop the smile creeping up on your face. "Linguistically, it’s clear that the "she“ that he speaks of is one specific person, probably some sort of authority figure for him, probably a mother“ you remarked. Hotchner nodded his head, a plan already in mind. "Y/l/n you will do a linguistic profile, try to find a pattern or identification marks in all of the letters. Reid, look at the geographical pattern, the locations where the bodies were found might give us a clue where the unsub lives. Morgan and Rossi, you two go to the last crime scene, Emily, you and I will interview the families. Lets catch this guy!“

„I guess your stuck with me at the precinct, pretty boy!“ you said playfully to Reid but all he did was blush and turn his head awkwardly to the side. Morgan shoot him a knowing look but you didn’t think about it too much.

Later that evening, you and Reid were the only ones left in the room designated for your investigation. A hot cup of coffee was standing in front of you, you knew you were in for a long nighty You had been looking at these letters for hours on end, trying to find identifying markers. The only thing that became apparent is that the letters and the murders are definitely about the unsubs mother. They were all about 60, the letters showed clear signs of conflicted hatred and love toward the mother and connected abuse. Maybe she hit him or she was just a very dominant personality who commanded all the men in her life and broke their will if she needed to. Reid was also standing in front of his map for the last few hours, rearranging the pins and drawing new circles and xes on it. Looking over, you did not see a clear pattern at all but maybe his genius brain could make sense of all of the colors on the board. Your eyes shifted from the map to him and the way he kept adjusting his hair. He wanted to tuck it behind his ears but it fell into his face again and again. "Ugh, why? Maybe I need to cut my hair again“ he mumbled annoyed. "Nooo, please don’t! I like your hair like this“ you answered quickly. "But its always in my face and whenever I tuck it back, it falls in front of it again“ Reid remarked, pushing his hair back aggressively. But all it did was fall back infront of his ear and Reid let out an annoyed groan. You stood up and moved towards the man: "here, take one of my clips! My hair is long enough so that I can easily tuck it behind my ear“ you said, quickly taking one of the bows out of your hair. As you kept going, the clip in your hand, he looked at you skeptical: "thank you, y/n but I don’t think that would suit me as much as it suits you“

You blushed involuntarily at that indirect compliment, "oh come on, no one is here anymore, you won’t be less of a man if you wear this pink bow in your hair!“ you rolled your eyes as you halted infront of him with a questioning look. „Okay, fine“ he hesitantly answered and you gave him a reassuring smile. You leaned forward, pushing his hair back as you clip in the pink bow. You felt how soft his hair was. As you let your hand trail down his head, you let it linger a bit too long. Just as Spencer cleared his throat, you realized that and let your hand fall quickly to your side. "All done, you look cute“ you blushed as you took a step back. But your blush didn’t compare to his. The minute he saw himself in the reflection of the glass board where he drew his map on, his face turned as red as a tomato. The pink bow clearly on display, matching to yours. Now not only your shoes were matching but also your hair. "Uh, thank you y/n“ he said after a while. But you didn’t even realize what he said because all you could do was stare at him. He had never looked this cute in his life. Not with his glasses, not with any of his haircuts. You felt a fluttering feeling in your tummy. Here he was, Spencer Reid, wearing your pink bow in his hair. You couldn’t believe the sight you were witnessing. Even though you didn’t have an eidetic memory, you would never forget this. As you kept starring at his face, your brain filling with all the accessories of yours Reid could wear, he kept staring right back. But instead of thinking about all the different hair clips you had, he couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty you looked. The slight blush that spread over your face, the blown pupils as they were looking at him. The way your mouth was slightly opened, the curve of your lips perfectly kissable.

"Yo, I forgot my-" Morgan stepped insight, both of you taking a step back, not realizing in the moment how close you two were standing and looking embarrassed towards Morgan. "Uhm, sorry for…disturbing, I just forgot my wallet here“ he said, moving toward the table. Your eyes shifted, there it was, lying underneath all the letters you had just looked at. "Alright, have a good night you two! Pretty bow, Reid, your lil girlfriend should lend you her things more often“ Morgan winked as he walked out of the room. Both of you stood there in silence, looking down onto the floor. Spencer raised his hand in embarrassment and tried to detangle the bow from his hair. "Noo, you look so pretty with it Spencer, you shouldn’t give a damn about Morgans opinion!“ you reassured him. He gave you a smile as his hand slowly fell down. "You know that is not fair“ Reid remarked. "What isn’t fair?" You looked confused. "Well, I would wear anything as long as you think i‘m pretty even if that would be the most impractical thing on this planet.“

"That can’t be true!“ you laughed.

"Do you remember four months ago when we saw that shampoo ad on some billboard in Texas with a man on it with long, shiny hair?“

Honest to god, you really didn’t. "Uhm, not really…“

"Well, you said that you love men with long hair and it seemed like you looked right at me. I, obviously had short hair at that time. But from that moment on, I decided to let my hair grow longer“ Spencer confessed.

"You grew your hair long because of me? Because I said that I find men with long hair prettier? That makes no sense, why would you care what I think about y-" then it hit you. He wanted you to find him attractive. He wanted you to see him as pretty. You took a step towards him, his gaze avoiding you, he seemed more focused on his shoes than on you. "Reid" you said quietly, him still not looking at you. "Spencer, if you don’t look up now, I’ll leave and you’ll never find out what I’m thinking about right now“ you threaten, his gaze hastily rising. You took another step towards him, this time a bit less sure than before. It seemed like time froze as you slowly raised your hand towards Reids face. "May I touch you?" You asked hesitantly, knowing that he wasn’t the biggest fan of non-consensual physical touch. He nodded his head and finally met your gaze. His eyes shifted up and down, between your eyes and lips. As you cupped his cheek, it seemed like the spell on him was broken. His face inched closer and closer until his lips met yours. The tension that you felt for the last few months finally found an escape and both of you seemed to feel relieved. His hands found your waist, as he pulled you closer to his body, your other hand tangling itself up in his hair. After a few moments both of you had to pull away to gasp for air. Smiles crept up on both of your faces as you realized what had just happened. He didn’t let your waist go, you didn’t want him to do that anyway. "You know what, Reid?" You asked humorously.

"What?" He asked back.

"I wanted to do that even before you let your hair grow out“ you answered him truthfully. Ever since you joined the team, you wanted to kiss him. It didn’t matter what his hair looked like or if he wore his glasses or not.

"You’re joking right? All of this agony for nothing then?“ he asked dumbfounded, pointing at his long hair.

"Oh no, definitely not for nothing! I got to see you wearing my pink bow and that is a sight, that I will never forget!“ you giggled and pulled him into a hug that he happily reciprocated.

P.S.: I hope you guys liked this, it is kinda strange to always read fanfic and now actually writing it. I guess my Spencer Reid obsession made me do it :) yall will probably understand, hahahaha.

[asexual-society]

This might be a stupid question but what exactly is "internalised gay-/bi-/ace- etc. phobia"? Is it only called that if I'm ace and wish I wasn't for example? Or is it also internalised phobia if someone claims to be accepting of a sexuality but secretly isn't?

And how do I know if I have internalised phobia and how do I get over that? I'm aroace and I'm fine with the ace part but the aro part troubles me sometimes. I can't help but see it as a huge personal loss. I know about qprs but I want the romance, I want the feeling and I'm not capable of it. And that bothers me. And yes, it makes me feel broken.

So. We live in a society. Most of us live in a society that is misogynistic, that is racist, that is homophobic, that is ableist, etc. Everyone who lives in a society like this will spend their life internalising these messages, so even if they are a part of one of these groups, they may still hold bigoted views towards other people of their same group (or towards themselves). I'm going to explain to the best of my understanding but people are free to correct any mistakes I might have made.

A common example of internalised homophobia might be if a gay man is distrustful of other gay people who are especially over the top in expressing their queerness, or has a dislike for effeminate gay men, or a lesbian who thinks gender nonconforming or butch lesbians are ugly. Internalised -phobias and -isms can also be self-directed having been enforced for many years by others, such as a woman who shaves her whole body because she views having body hair as being "unhygenic" for women, or a woman who genuinely believes that she, and all women, are less intelligent and more emotional than men.

A person with internalised acephobia may have learnt from society that being a virgin or not having sex, or specifically being asexual, is weird or embarrassing or cringe, and feel the need to have sex just so as not to be one of "those people".

Crucially in order for some form of bigotry to be called "internalised", the person has to be a member of that group, so if an Asian person is racist towards a black person, that isn't internalised racism, it's just regular racism (or specifically anti-black racism). If an alloromantic asexual person says something like "I'm ace but don't worry, I can still feel love", that's not internalised arophobia, it's just regular arophobia (but it might also play into internalised aphobia if they feel that the only way they can deal with their asexuality is to throw themself as hard into their romantic endeavours as possible).

Lots of aromantic people struggle with the effects of amatonormativity, and feeling that their life will be incomplete without romance, or that they're missing out on a fundamental human experience (this is not true, you can live a happy and fulfilled life without romance or any form of relationship). You could be what's known as Cupioromantic, which is a label under the aro umbrella that describes aro people who enjoy being in romantic relationships and seek them out, but it's important to understand the distinction between wanting to be in a romantic relationship because you enjoy it, and wanting to be in a romantic relationship because you feel like you won't be happy any other way.

Unfortunately (if you see it that way), wanting not to be aro will not make you magically allo. Wanting to be another sexuality has never been able to turn someone into that other sexuality, that's why conversion therapy doesn't work. You have to find a way to live with it, and there's no surefire way to accept your orientation, but having other friends who share your orientation can be one of the best ways to feel less broken and less alone. Personally, I like to write about aro characters who are like me, mostly because they don't really exist anywhere else, and it helps me to remind myself that I'm not the only person like me in the world. But you could also listen to more music that isn't about love, or see if you can avoid specific things that you know make you feel unhappy in your aromanticism. I'm not saying it's easy, and I'm not saying that path to acceptance will be linear, but I do think trying to work towards that acceptance is worthwhile.

I hope this helps, and that you feel better about yourself soon.

~ mod key

edit: the reason i hesitated to call "wishing i weren't aro" "internalised arophobia" in that post, is largely because it depends where the desire not to be aro is coming from. if it's from a profound loneliness that many aro people experience due to their aromanticism, being misunderstood or even abandoned by their friends, having difficulty connecting with people who aren't aro, that's very different from a person wishing they were aro because society tells us we aren't whole without a partner, or that we're missing out on this experience, or even that we're broken or mentally ill for not being able to experience this sort of attraction.

[nyctophiliq]

Read your Valeria angst. I thought it was really well made and I loved it. I'm a sucker for angst, too. I'd love to see you write another. Maybe something along the lines of a jealous Valeria?

✮ ┆ WHERE IT GETS COLD. valeria (fortnite)

CONTENT WARNING.           18+ only, minors dni. SUGGESTIVE/ANGST CONTENT UNDER THE CUT; female-bodied reader, society! reader, jealous! valeria, alcohol consumption, smoking, kissing, weapons/guns, flings, previous sexual encounters,  | ~1.3k words

A/N.                   well this didn't turn that angsty (or that good), but i’m glad you liked my previous piece and omg thank you for requesting this! i hope you like it and thanks everyone for reading !!!

a dinner gala.

valeria’s time and place to shine, to flaunt her intelligence and beauty, to bathe in the spotlight and attention all that was attending paid her while she was waltzing around in her expensive black dress, back open with thin spaghetti straps over her shoulders and no bra. there was so much she could have been doing other than just standing next to one of the round bar tables, tapping the surface of it, and scanning the crowd she was so conveniently keeping herself away from.

“would you like another glass?” a waitress’ voice rang next to valeria over the buzzing of chattering and the slow classical music. valeria raised an eyebrow before glancing at the empty glass sitting next to her hand.

i just got this glass…

“please.” she handed the empty one over to the girl in the white button-up long-sleeved shirt before opening her hand up, waiting to receive a full glass of red wine and continue sipping on and trying to pretend that she wasn’t staring at you but the crowd that you were blending into.

valeria thought she could handle not having you in her arms, to just eye you from the distance as you were trying to get your way with the donators. the way all those men and women touched you, the way they looked at you like you were free for the taking, and they had further than just business with you. especially montague who seemed to love having you on his side, loving to walk among the masses with you and nisha on his side, making lazy jokes about his wealth and

she took just a minute to stare into the deep red liquid, admiring the small ripples that distorted her reflection before downing it like it was the last drink of her life. a mistake or not, valeria headed your way to pick up on the pieces that the two of you left off before this whole party took place.

the truth was that neither of you was truly in a relationship, at least not one that was steady enough to be classified as "normal" by most people. you were erratic, particularly when you couldn't agree on anything during a meeting. on days like those, one of you would end up in the other's bed, ripping garments apart and not caring what the people living around the mansion would think.

however, what stayed with valeria the most was not the sex itself but the afterglow of it— the way your chest rose and fell with each deep breath as you lay next to her, and the scent of your hair as you turned to face away from her. that was how you invited each other to stay, to cling to each other and pass the night, regardless of how detached the previous night filled with sex had been.

“mind if i chime in?” valeria’s arm snuck around your lower back, just like it does when your hips jerk, fingertips settling on your side and digging into your clothes.

opposite of the two of you stood montague, nisha, and a couple of other society members who were on lower levels of the hierarchy, just milking the moments they could spend with the higher-ups. valeria, however, couldn’t be bothered by any of them, she wasn’t about to stay or let you stay with them.

“excuse us for a second,” you give a smile to your friends before taking the hand on your waist in yours, intervening with your fingers as you push through the goons and head to the back, to a quiet corner away from the dance floor where’s more peaceful, and if there were people, they won’t be trying to get their two seconds of attention.

and despite all the interactions you might have had with valeria, all the fights and disputes, not seeing eye to eye in your professional life- you agreed on something that resembled a domestic life, alongside one another. you wanted to make it with her and find common ground where you could live peacefully without the constant fights and headaches.

the silence between the two of you and the way you had to break through the sea of people, made you feel like a teenager all over again, trying to get away to make out in private, with some air, without any eyes on you. so when you settle in the red luxurious booth, scoot close to valeria with your arms wrapping around her neck, you expect her to kiss you, just like she promised while you were getting ready together.

“what were you guys talking about?”

“thought you pulled me aside to kiss me.”

“those matones were basically undressing you with their eyes.”

“not this again…” you sigh, stopping her hand that was trying to close the gap between the two of you and pulling away from valeria before leaning against the cold, leather backrest of the booth. you shake your head in disbelief, groaning under your breath before reaching into your small handbag for your cigarette. “first it was the guard at fencing fields, then at lavish lair- now some low lives from a party?” the lighter sparkles as you roll on the stone, but it doesn’t catch flame even after you try for an awkward amount of times.

“i’m not an idiot, cariño,” valeria leans closer, her lips pressed against the shell of your ear as she pulls a lighter out of her pocket, lighting your cigarette as she does so.

“oh, but you are, a jealous idiot at that.” you take a drag of the cigarette as you feel her warm breath against your skin. 

valeria’s jealousy simmered beneath the surface, an undercurrent of emotions that threatened to overflow at any moment. as you sat together in the quiet corner, her arm firmly wrapped around your waist possessively, she couldn’t shake the feeling of irritation that gnawed at her.

her eyes darted over to where montague and the others were engaged in conversation, a fake smile plastered on her face as she tried to focus on you. but every glance in their direction only fueled the fire of jealousy burning within her.

“i can’t stand the way they look at you,” valeria muttered, her voice laced with frustration as she let go of you and reached for her glass, taking a long sip of her wine, her gaze fixed on the swirling liquid in front of her.

you sighed, the weight of her spite palpable in the air between you. “valeria, nothing is going on between us.”

“maybe not for you,” she retorted, her grip on your waist tightening slightly. “but i see the way they look at you, it’s like they think they have some kind of claim over you.”

you reached up to gently pry her fingers away from your side, trying to ease the tension that coiled within her. “you know that’s not true. you’re the one i want, valeria.”

her expression softened slightly at your words, a flicker of doubt crossing her features before she masked it with a forced smile. “it’s hard to believe that when i see you surrounded by them.”

“i promise there’s no one else.” you cupped her cheek tenderly after putting the cigarette out, brushing your thumb against her skin in a soothing gesture.

for a moment, it seemed as though her jealousy had subsided, replaced by a sense of reassurance. but as the night wore on and the whispers of the other guests grew louder, valeria found herself once gain consumed by insecurity, something she wasn’t too familiar or fond of feeling.

“they probably…” she started, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words.

“what is it, valeria?” you asked gently, concern etched into your features as you searched her eyes for answers.

“they probably think i am bad for you, cariño.” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. you pulled her into a tight embrace, the warmth of her body pressing against yours as you held her close. a small smile tugged at the corners of valeria’s lips, a flicker of hope igniting in her chest.

“not at all baby, you’re not bad at all.”

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Cold Comfort: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: You meet another psychic on a case that doesn’t want to work with you, and everyone’s faith is tested on exactly what you can do.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

x

The three victims found are Annette Hagen, the first, Erin Bonham, the second, and Melissa Claire, the recent one. The only one who is still out there is Brooke, but you know she is still alive. All three victims were embalmed, but they all died of blood loss.

That means they were alive when they were embalmed.

Tox screens show significant levels of Barbiturate which is a heavy sedative to the point where someone can become unconscious. All three women were found with the same haircut even though they were taken with much longer hair, which means the unsub cut it. Another thing the unsub has done to them was pierce their ear so that they all have double piercings.

None of them were sexually abused since there has been no tearing or bruising, but the ME did find trace amounts of semen.

The unsub had sex with their bodies after they died.

You don't want to pressure Sandra into making a decision on who she wants to work on the case, so you head back to the station where you're needed.

"Hotch," you say and he excuses himself from talking to someone, "I just talked to Stanely and he refuses to work with me."

"Don't bring him in, Aaron," Rossi backs you up. "Y/N is here. She's proven she can take care of things."

"We won't bring him in," Hotch shrugs.

"I just spoke to the families," JJ walks into the room. "None of the victims had double-pierced ears at the time of their abduction."

"He's changing them."

"Into what?" Derek asks.

"Not what," you say, "it's who. The burial suggests an affection for his victims, which says he might be remaking them into the image of a loved one."

"The ME found high traces of Barbiturate, right?" JJ asks.

"Yeah, why?"

"It's something the psychic said. Brooke felt tired and heavy."

"Why are we talking about the psychic? It's a scam. These guys talk without saying anything and you fall for it."

"Is it so wrong to want to believe?" JJ argues.

"JJ, you know the profile. A necrophiliac has no use for a live victim."

"Can I talk to you?" you ask Rossi. You pull Rossi off to the side away from everyone else. "If there is a small part of you that believes what I can do, doesn't that mean you should believe in what other people can do? Not all psychics are frauds."

"You've proven to me you know what you're doing."

"I understand that, but you're limiting yourself by not giving people the benefit of the doubt. You did it with me."

"You kind of forced it on me."

"Yeah, I did," you chuckle, "but that doesn't mean it's not true."

"What did you read about him?"

"Stanley is mostly right with his ability. There are things that are so obvious that he can pick up, but he's not as strong as me. I read between the lines, he sees what's right in front of him. He puts the puzzle together and guesses, and because of that, he was named a fraud. He thought he could get away with it."

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

"I'm just theorizing. I make mistakes too, Rossi."

Rossi is already walking away and calling Penelope. He won't listen to reason, but you have more important things to do like give the profile. Detective Ron Fullwood gathers his men and women to hear what your team has to say.

"By now we know the DNA found on the victims did not match anyone in the system, so we're gonna have to look beyond physical evidence to identify the killer," Hotch begins. "Our unsub is a white male in his mid to late twenties with a lot of money. He lives alone in a large residence. There's enough space and ventilation to accommodate an embalming suite. He's awkward with people, especially with women. An inability to relate socially is common in homicidal necrophiles."

"Because of the alterations to the bodies, we believe the unsub is attempting to recreate a woman he once loved. Like a girlfriend, wife, or mother. Someone who left or died suddenly."

"This projection of the loved one coupled with his need to preserve the victims through embalming is similar to the psychopathology of serial murderer Ed Gein," Spencer explains. "Gein had an oedipal complex which developed in the years he nursed his paralyzed mother back from a stroke. After she died, his obsession compelled him to dig up the corpses of women who resembled his mother. He was so persistent to resurrect his dead mother, he actually dressed in female suits fashioned from human skin. Eventually, Gein grew unhappy with the flesh of dead bodies, which had a tendency to dry and crack. So, he shifted his focus to live victims whose bodies he could better preserve."

"The evolution from dead to live victims will also be mirrored in our unsub's maturation. We've put together a list of incident reports prior to 2006. You're gonna want to follow up on these. They are inappropriate postmortem conduct, cadaver theft, and graveyard disturbances," Emily says.

"Sixty percent of necrophiles work in the death business, so be sure to canvass local cemeteries, mortuaries, and morgues. Since we have the killer's DNA, we're gonna be sending you out with kits to swab potential suspects."

"The odds of finding Brooke Lombardini alive are slim, but the quicker we identify the killer, the better her chances are. For her sake, let's work fast."

Everyone broke into teams of two to go around the area and talk to different suspects, different MEs, and anyone else who might have information on the case. You're paired with Hotch and you walk into the third ME office that afternoon. You didn't get anything with the other MEs but hopefully, this one has information. When you explained the situation to her, about someone defiling corpses, she wasn't that surprised.

"I won't lie. It happens in the industry, and we put a stop to it when it does."

"You don't report it to the police?"

"We like to keep that kind of thing quiet."

"A killer is dressing up his dead victims and violating them. Maybe quiet isn't the best way to go," you say.

"He dresses them up?"

"Does that mean something to you?"

"We hired an apprentice a while back. He's an odd guy even for this business. I didn't like the attention he paid the female cadavers. I came to find out he liked to do their makeup and put a wig on them and such."

"Can you describe the wig to me?"

"I can do you one better. I have the wig he used on the females." The ME brings you over to the box they have with the wig. "We cleaned out his locker after his termination. He never came back for it. Imagine that."

"I need this man's name."

Ivan Bakunas lives close to where he used to work, so you and Hotch head over there immediately. Detective Fullwood wants to come along to catch this guy since he promised Sandra that he'd find her daughter alive. If this man truly killed the three victims, then you will be able to feel them on him. This either could go very well or not well at all. You knock on the door and Ivan answers. He keeps the door cracked open slightly as if he's nervous or scared for someone to see what's inside his house.

Just from one look at him, you know he didn't kill those women. You've seen the bodies, and his energy doesn't match up to the energy left on them.

"Ivan Bakunas?"

"Yes. Can I help you?" he stutters.

"You could invite us inside. It's a little cold out here."

"I can't. Mother's sleeping."

"We're investigating a series of murders in the area. We believe the killer works in your field."

"You're kidding. Do I know him?"

"You might. His victims are just your type with blond hair and blue skin," Hotch accuses.

"You're suggesting I'm some kind of murderer? You are way out of line."

"So, you wouldn't object to giving us a sample of your DNA?"

"No."

"We can get a warrant."

"I think I've said all I'm gonna say."

He shuts the door in your face since he refuses to talk to you further.

"He didn't do it, Hotch. He's an icky person, yes, but he's not our killer. His energy doesn't match up to the ones I found on the bodies."

"Are you a psychic?" Ron asks.

"Yes, a better one than Stanley is." You look at Hotch. "It'll hurt a little bit if you don't believe me at this point in our relationship."

Hotch believes you one hundred percent, but he still has Penelope look into him. If he's a killer for other women you haven't found, then you can kill two birds with one stone. By the time you get to the police station, Penelope has some dirt on Ivan.

"Did you find anything on Ivan?" Emily asks.

"Nothing in juvie, but he was expelled from Evergreen State for sexually assaulting his girlfriend. He was slipping her tranquilizers and having sex with her while she slept."

"That qualifies."

"Between that and the wig, we should be able to persuade a judge," Ron says.

"Listen, Ivan is icky, and he's done stuff he should definitely be arrested for, but he didn't kill these women."

"How do you know?"

"You won't understand."

You look at Hotch for backup, and this time, he stands up for you.

"Detective, Y/N has been with us for years. She's helped catch killers and save victims plenty of times by using her abilities. I'm not gonna stand in your way if you want to serve a warrant on Bakunas, but I think you're wasting your time."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Alongside Y/N, we profiled a man of means. According to his tax records, Bakunas hasn't held down a job since he graduated college. He lives with his mother and doesn't have a car. The embalming equipment and the drugs aren't cheap."

"Look, this guy likes to get it on with dead people. If that's not probable cause, I don't know what is."

"Hotch," JJ interrupts, "a 911 operator just got a distress call from someone claiming to be Brooke."

You follow JJ into a conference room where she has a recording of the 911 call Penelope sent in. Brooke's mom is also in the room so she can identify her daughter's voice.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Hello?" Brooke whispers.

"Can you speak up, ma'am?"

"No. He'll hear me. This is Brooke Lombardini. Please, I need help."

"Where are you calling from, ma'am?"

"I'm being held prisoner."

"Okay, ma'am. Can you look outside? Can you see a street name or an address?"

"Please... I think he's gonna kill me. Please help me."

The call ends there like Brooke hung up abruptly since the unsub came to check on her.

"That's her. That's Brooke," Sandra says.

"You're certain? She's barely audible. Any surveillance expert will tell you it's almost impossible to positively identify a whisper."

"You think I don't know my own daughter's voice?"

"Why would someone who was not Brooke call 911 and say they were?" Ron asks.

"Sometimes people get off injecting themselves into the story. You've been on TV now and that could bring out a lot of sick individuals."

"Stanley said she was alive. This proves it."

"Ma'am, Stanley isn't reliable. He has a vested interest in telling you that your daughter is alive," you say.

"Do you have a vested interest in telling me that she's not?"

"He has a record, ma'am," Rossi says. "I had a colleague look into it. Usher was charged with fraud in Oregon before he moved here."

"I need my baby to be alive."

"Listen to me, Sandra," you interject. "I'm not Stanley, but I am more than happy to help you out. I don't have a record, I am not a fraud, and I am the real deal. I want to help you find your daughter just as much as you want her to be alive. Let me give you hope."

She looks around the room at everyone before moving closer to you.

"You better find her alive. I'm placing my faith in you now."

She leaves the room and everyone inside is speechless. They all stare at you as if you promised to move mountains.

"I'll find her alive," you promise.

"The only reason I have so much faith in you is because you've proven yourself that this is real," Hotch says. "You can do things others think are impossible. What is your true and honest opinion about Brooke?"

"I believe she's alive. Her mother is her anchor, and I can feel her through Sandra. I feel her alive."

"Alright," Emily gets back on track, "the 911 call came from a disposable cell. There's no ID but they traced it to the nearest tower. That narrows it down to a twenty-mile radius just southeast of Seattle."

"That's a densely populated area. Were they able to triangulate?"

"Garcia tried to ping the phone, but it was already dead. The unsub probably turned it off when he found her with it."

"What do we think?" Hotch asks. "Why is the unsub keeping Brooke alive? How long do we think she has until he kills her?"

"Maybe he needs them alive to effect their transformation."

"I don't think so. The change in the hair, makeup, and pierced ears would only take a few hours. He's had her for almost five days."

"Maybe it's about something more than just appearance. Maybe it's something deeper. On the phone, she made it sound like she was being locked up, and she sounded drugged. These are control mechanisms used in cases of sexual slavery and mind control. It's brainwashing."

"So, he's trying to break her down and make her surrender her identity. That's what he's waiting for. That's the version of them he wants to hold onto. The longer she holds out, the longer she stays alive, and as soon as she accepts her new role, her fate is sealed."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[ashesandhackles]

Fic recs

Other Women and of Purer Blood by @saintsenara

Summary: Narcissa is adrift, rattling around Malfoy Manor, when an equally lonely man comes into her lonely life.

Thoughts: I have been wanting a story that contextualises the sexual charge and familiarity we see between Snape and Narcissa in Spinner's End for ages (canon compliant, that is) and this story is a lovely backstory to that. It also captures Snape in transition: Snape still ironing out his northern accent, how his movements are still spider-like. He is in the process of becoming the adult Snape we see in canon: whose speeches are a performance, and how he irons out the awkwardness of his movements in adulthood.

Excerpt:

Snape looks completely wrong in the flowery bower where Dobby has set out tea. His sallow awkwardness seems to repel the summer, even though Narcissa suspects he must be baking in his layers of shabby black robes. 

He doesn’t have the fine manners of the sort of person who normally comes to tea with the Malfoys. He eats quickly, and slurps his tea, and looks at the cakes with the greedy eyes of a boy who isn’t used to treats. Lucius would be disgusted, to have a greasy half-blood at his table spraying crumbs everywhere. She imagines the expression of horrified confusion on his pointy face and giggles.

Snape immediately goes scarlet and puts down his tea-cup.

In Infinite Remorse of Soul by @perverse-idyll

Summary: Albus Dumbledore never makes the same mistake twice. Certainly not in love.

Thoughts: My very first Snumbledore, which is a frightening meditation on the very vast power dynamics between Snape and Dumbledore from the hilltop scene in Deathly Hallows and expanding the very personal reaction Dumbledore had towards the wayward young Death Eater. Perverse Idyll is among the best writers in the fandom, brimming with words and fantastic imagery that just stays with you.

Excerpt:

"My boy," Albus says almost kindly, because kindness is something that mystifies his young servant. Severus' eyes dart upwards, apprehensive, accusing, and Albus can see the darkness inside the boy clawing to reach him. Guilt calling to guilt.

The moment quivers and thins until he judges that Severus has had enough and is about to rebel. A harsh rasp draws his attention. He looks down at the bruised, blackened fingernail scraping across stone.

"My boy," he sighs. "You never fail to disgust me."

The ritual word strikes Severus down. His obstinate body shrinks, wings of hair flapping forward to shut his scowling face from view.

To Build A Home by @mblematic

Summary: 1978-1981: Sirius stumbles on something in the woods, Sirius and Remus stumble into each other, everyone stumbles into the war.

Thoughts: First War hijinks, dysfunctional Wolfstar - I was fed! I cannot rave enough about the gorgeous, subtle writing of relationships (the author really captures this raw, visceral vulnerability between two friends who are attracted to each other and how it explodes in heightened tension of war) and there is some fantastic world building and mirroring. Excerpt: Later, Sirius would remember almost everything from this night with crystal clarity except the sky, which in reality was clouded but in his memory would be open, star-studded, expansive and unknowable as the future. He’d remember, correctly, that the wolf was different than it had been at Hogwarts. He’d remember the restless, brutal, snarling fury, all of it undercut with a fear so intense it had its own meaty weight. The night took Sirius by surprise and he spent the whole long stretch of it trying to put himself back on track, trying to reacquaint himself with the wolf, and trying to convince them both that they remembered each other. At one point he found himself literally between Remus’ jaws, helpless and pliant, mewling like a supplicant. This, too, he would remember for the rest of his life. 

Second Life by Cassandra, nwhiker Summary: What happens when two men are given a second chance.

Thoughts: I finally got around to reading one of the most recommended Snirius fics out there. Beautiful, understated, deeply emotional - the authors take you on a journey with the two of them post war. It also feels....old?? As in, the kind of perspective this fic has is the perspective of someone in late 30s (which both Snape and Sirius are in this fic, post war). There is a fragile, "who else will understand what our generation went through?" running through the vein of this fic.

Excerpt:

It was like walking into a tiny garden in the tropics, and he was reminded of some of the places he'd visited while on the run after his escape from Azkaban. There were hundreds of plants, most of them unfamiliar, and a large table was filled with orchids. There was a tree, which turned out to be a frangipani, its white flowers soft and sweet. A delicate white flower with an exquisite fragrance that Snape said was bouvardia. Along one wall were plants Sirius recognised from Potions classes, wolfsbane and asphodel, wormwood and sopohorous, a shrivelfig tree, and others he'd seen but didn't know the names of.

"I'm not supposed to have them," Snape said.

Sirius turned to him. Snape was staring down an orchid, brushing planting mix from the edge of its pot.

Al Aaraaf by eldritcher

Summary: There is a place between heaven and hell.

Thoughts: An unsettling, poetic horror fic featuring a grieving Walburga Black. The whole fic is structured like a poem, with rhythm and repetition and metaphor shining through.

Excerpt:

He had her face. He had her scowl. He had her loathsome, loathing heart that mourned and loved. Hell dwelled in him, as a warm and heartful thing calved of mother.

The last of earth's make she held was son. His hands were placed in prayerful clasp over her belly.

The lamb in her was of Tartary, born of son fed and killed with milk and honey, birthed of widow's mourning.

"It is all right," Sirius said, and held her to him as if she weren't damned.

Runaway Boys by Delphi

Summary: Severus dreams of pirates, and Lily closes the nursery window. Thoughts: I'm not sure if I have recommended this fic before, but I am recommending it again, just in case. This is a wonderfully strange coming of age, a tale of puberty told in dreams/ fantasies featuring Snape and Captain Hook. Excerpt:

"Severus S—" He cuts himself off and then tentatively amends: "Prince. Severus Prince."

It's a better name, he's decided. His new friends at school know the Princes, but they've never heard of any Snapes.

"That is a fine name, Mr. Prince," the man says. "As for me, I am Captain James Hook."

A large hand extends into the branches, and after a moment, Severus carefully leans down and shakes it.

"Pleased to meet you," Severus says.

"Are those friends of yours?" the captain asks, nodding towards the neighbouring island, where the boys are now riding wild ponies bareback, jousting with each other using lances made of hollow reeds.

Severus shrugs. Of course, he thinks, the man would rather know them.

Note: Please check the pairings and tags in each of these fics and keep in mind your own triggers :)

[so-many-fandoms-here]

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice.)

• Characters: Levi Ackerman, fem!Reader

• Genre: smut, fluff

• Warnings: explicit content, sexual content, sensual sex, kinda ooc Levi

Worship

۵ ─────⊱۵⊰───── ۵

Only in underwear and with an aching heart I view my reflection in the mirror in front of me. I can’t help but to compare myself with the other women my age. Their bodies aren’t full of scars and flaws, while mine is clearly painted from the war. I don’t even know why I keep making such a big deal about it, after all I am not some young thing trying to impress men. I’m the mother of a six month old, in her late thirties and happily married for about a decade now. I fought a war, saw people die and was on the brink of death about a dozen of times myself. But still I feel like some 20 year old that never had to face all this stuff, leaving her appearance her biggest problem.

„She’s finally asleep“, I hear Levi saying, snapping me out of my thoughts. I didn’t even hear him coming into the room. „Everything okay, dear?“ he asks while limping towards the bed and sitting down.

I turn around, arms wrapped around my belly. It feels pathetic to admit it. „Not fighting for my life everyday made me notice my looks“, I admit quietly, tears welling up in my eyes. Levi looks at me, his nose scrunched like I told him about a talking pile of dust. „What do you mean?“

„The war disfigured me.“ Tears are streaming down my face now but Levi still looks at me, like he doesn’t understand a single thing. He scoots over and pats on the mattress. „Lay down.“ Now it’s my turn to look confused. „Just do it“, he insists, and so I make my way towards the bed too and lay down, just as he told me. My hair, still wet from the shower I just took, tousles all over the pillow and it’s like I can feel the knots tying themselves back in.

Levi is on the foot of the bed now, his eyes softened as he looks at me. „Stop talking shit“, he says. „The war didn’t disfigured you. Quite the opposite. How can you not realize that this makes you even more attractive? The way you survived the impossible?“

His hands sneak to my feet, massaging them, before lifting both and kissing my ankles. „Your feet walked you so many miles, you ran right into your death just to serve humans you don’t even know personally, to make sure they’re safe.“ He kisses my ankles again. „And they’re never afraid to kick my ass if I need it.“ A soft smile crawls upon my lips.

He moves up to my clean shaved legs. „It’s impressive that your shinbones never broke“, he mumbles against my skin, placing kisses all over my lower leg. „How often and how hard you fell during battles.“

Then he moves up to my thighs. „And don‘t get me started on your thighs“, Levi speaks, kissing them too, even marking them like he did sometimes when we were younger. „So muscular from all the horse riding. And so perfect around my hips and head.“ I couldn’t suppress a giggle, which earns me a bright smile from Levi.

I shriek as he moves his hand under my body, massaging my ass. „How many hours did you sit on your pretty ass in this boring meetings that never brought us anywhere?“ A rhetoric question, but I answer anyways, playing along. „Enough.“ „And yet, it never gave up“, Levi says with a teasing smile, letting go of my bum. I wait for one of his typical jokes and look at him confused as nothing comes. „Wow, no joke about taking a shit?“ I ask jokingly, to which I earn a roll of his steel-blue eye. „I try to be romantic and sexy, brat.“ With a giggle I lean back again, letting him continue.

His next stop is the already wet area between my legs. His fingers caress over my panties and both of us feel the damp spot on it. He hooks his thumbs in the hem of the piece of clothing, searching for consent in my eyes. „May I?“ Instead of answering I raise my hips so he can take it off. Levi understands and pulls my white underwear down, the way it sticks on my vagina gives me a feeling of how incredibly wet I am already.

„Your perfect pussy“, he whispers after placing the piece of fabric next to him on the bed. „Making me feel things I didn’t even know were possible. And making you feel things with only a light touch.“ To prove his statement he placed a kiss on my clit, making me shiver. „And not only this. It was the door to this world for our babygirl.“

After a few strokes through my wet folds he makes his way further up to my tummy. „I know how much you despise your stretch marks but they show how well our daughter grew in you.“ Sweet kisses are placed all over my stomach. „You created life, dear. I didn’t thought you could get any more beautiful, but then I saw you becoming a mother.“ New tears sting in my eyes, but this time they are tears of joy.

As I feel his hands move upwards I instantly sit up to unclasp my bra, throwing it next to the bed before laying down again and with a pleased smile Levi cups my right breast while kissing my left one. He takes his time with them, moving his lips back and forth between them so he gives both equal attention before he speaks again. „Not only are your boobs beyond sexy, they also feed a living being.“

With that Levi moves further up again, now kissing my throat and neck. „I was always allowed to hide from the world in the crook of your neck.“ Another kiss. „And your throat a) always takes my cock so well and b) protects your vocal chords that create your beautiful voice.“

With this lewd, yet pure sentence he moves to my left arm, kissing it’s whole length down do my hand. „Your shoulders, always willing to stem the weight of others too, no matter how bad it hurts you as long the other one has it easier and your strong arms, always giving out the best hugs.“ Then he kisses the palm of my hand. „And your hands, making me realize that the world provides more than violence.“

His kisses come back to my face and start to cover my cheeks. „I love the tiny wrinkles next to your nose when you smile.“ My nose gets a kiss too. „And the way you scrunch your nose when you’re embarrassed.“ He travels up the bridge of my nose until he reaches my forehead. „Your smart head“, then left again to my ear. „And your open ear, always listening when someone needs it.“ Then under my eyes. „Those beautiful eyes of you and all the lovely ways they look at me.“

And then finally, Levi kisses my lips. „And your lips, curling up to the most beautiful smile in the world and giving the best kisses.“ I rarely ever see him like this. So soft and vulnerable without him having a beak down.

„Your scars and flaws make you even more beautiful“, he reassures once again before diving into another kiss, this time adding his tongue too.

His healthy hand sneaks down between my legs again and starts to please me by sinking two fingers in my dripping cunt. A moan leaves my lips while I roll my hips against his hand to feel him deeper inside of me. Chapped lips on mine muffle my moaning while I chase my high on my husbands fingers.

„I want your cock“, I whine breathless as I feel my pleasure increasing. „Cum on my fingers first. You’re so close, I can feel it.“ That’s all it needs for me to fall apart. With a dizzy feeling I watch Levi stripping, placing his clothes on the floor next to the bed while stroking his boner.

In awe I look at his body. Even though Levi can’t walk properly anymore he tries his best to stay in shape, even with his almost 40 years. Especially his arms are still fine toned due to the weight lifting he does. The scars on his body tell the story of Humanities Strongest, making him even hotter in my eyes.

I think I understand what he tried to tell me.

My mind goes blank as his cock finds my pussy, pushing his whole length into me. As I moan louder than intended he quickly places his lips on mine again, not wanting to wake up the baby. Or the neighbors.

With his lips on mine and his cock deep inside me, I am able to let go off my worries and I only concentrate on the feeling of his tongue and the feeling of my second orgasm building up while he moves in and out of me. Our mixed moans and the sound of skin against skin create a lewd symphony inside of our bedroom.

„Fuck (Y/n), I‘m cumming.“ My legs close tighter around him so he’s even closer. I want to feel him cum inside me. And that’s exactly what happens. I can feel his cock twitch and with a hiss, followed by a loud groan I feel the warmth of his sperm inside of me, which takes me over the edge too and has me trembling under his body and clenching around his cock while I embrace my heavy orgasm.

Goosebumps raise as Levi falls on the mattress besides me, his hair messy and his back scratched by my nails. „I love you so much“, I whisper in his ear, petting his head. „I love you too

[takocreep]

feel like you’re gonna agree with me on this. At what point will people recognize personal responsibility for masculine adult women becoming trans men/nonbinary with breasts cut off. At what point do we address these women have deep self hatred that needs to be resolved and stop blaming it all on societal pressure. As an adult if things people say to you are bothering you to that effect it’s an internal separate issue. I can empathize but the same way my childhood trauma issues isn’t my fault, my healing and unlearning toxic habits is my responsibility. I’m kinda tired of everyone acting like it’s this super pressure vault you get sucked in if you don’t wear makeup or have short hair, whatever. There’s more I can say but that’s the main point. can’t really get to any root issue behind these problems when everyone’s a victim of the system.

yeah you're right, more and more people are transitioning as a means to resolve deep personal or traumatic issues which increasingly aren't even relevant to sexuality. and when they're realized, suddenly they find themselves left with permanent body alterations they never should have toyed with, that they were using as a means to avoid addressing anything. most of this is because they made a shitty choice. we all do that. i can respect when a detrans person owns their mistake instead of putting all blame onto their ex-ingroup. as if most of them weren't the exact people doing the shilling and sensationalizing themselves not long ago.

and yeah transition is getting shilled to vulnerable people, but giving into it is still ultimately a bad choice of theirs. we acknowledge this in the context of recreational drugs and cosmetic surgery. but what are testosterone and mastectomy? arguably, exactly that. you can get hooked, it can backfire badly. but if you know what you're doing and have little enough to lose (most people don't), you could choose to do it and come out the other end relatively fine. it's an option.

just as you can choose and regret transition, you could also recognize that the benefits of transition far outweigh the drawbacks for you. there are a small subset of people to which that applies and they make the correct judgment. the problem is, with the ungodly saturation of what can only be called gender normies with unrelated baggage falling for the psyop and overloading gender clinics, transition has become in a way gentrified, trendified. all kinds of biases now taint what could have been an organic conclusion, and because most normies are retarded, we are seeing shit tons more detransitioners than we ever needed to.

[welkinsky]

Bakugou X Reader | A-Z Headcanon | Aged Up | NSFW

A/N: !Warning! 18+ content

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He loves to hug you after you both are done on the days when it was all lovey-dovey and on the days when it was rough he uses you as a human pillow as he lays his head on your torso and hugs your waist. Either way, once he is down the high, he'll get up to get the towel and water and pull you back in whenever you get up to bring them instead with a, "If you have enough energy to do this, then we're not done yet."

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of their partner’s)

Sexually, he is an ass guy for sure. He loves to see the marks he leaves on you once you both are done. Also, your collarbone turns him on for some reason. So anything deep neck or boat neckline he'll love to see on you. In a nonsexual way, it has to be your hands. He loves it whenever you hold his hand in public or whenever you two are cuddling you always run your hands through his hair. This is one of the main reasons why he always sleeps through the movie and it is one of the best naps he'd ever had. Or whenever you two are traveling he loves to trace random figures in the palm of your hand and trace some random line on your fingers. That's the sort of intimacy he craved for so long!

C = Cuddling

BEST PILLOW EVER. You love to lay your head on his chest whenever he cuddles and his huge biceps are just the right height for your head too. At first, he used to get a bit nervous because sure he has had sex with many women before but this sort of intimacy was new to him and he was always scared that he might set off his quirk by mistake and hurt you. But one day, as you two were cuddling, you randomly took his hand and kissed the palm and told him that his hands smell like sweat (because of his natural nitroglycerin from his quirk). From that day on he hugged you even tighter.

D = Dirty Secret

He doesn't have much to hide but this one time when you both were in UA, Mineta found a peaking hole that goes from the boy's washroom to the girl's. It was when you two weren't dating. You and him being the last ones in there after the combat training class. He heard you humming through the wall and without any single thought, he pulled up the poster and saw through the hole. Before he can realize what he is doing he got lost in just watching you get ready, you were fully dressed but what he loved watching was just you getting ready, swaying around, and dancing. For some reason, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. After a couple of minutes, he realized what the hell he was doing and with a jerk pulled it back down. He never really meant to be creepy or "get a look" he simply heard you humming and wanted to see you but later realized how creepy this was. So this is a secret that he'll take to his grave. He loves to watch you get ready even now and sometimes would remember that day and ruin his own mood for no reason leaving you all confused.

E = Experience

He does have a good experience it wasn't until he was in Top 10 heroes that you two started dating. He was popular among ladies before that and contrary to what others would think he hooked up a lot. I have a feeling that you two also started with a hook-up (which was not a hook-up since you two already liked each other but were confused with your feelings). To sum it up he'll show you things that you read in the books, in real life.

F = Favourite Position

I think his favorite position has to be missionary. But not at all in the vanilla way. What he loves about it is that he can see your reactions very clearly and pin your hands up your head and at the same time, choke you with the other as he experiments with his thrusts to get a reaction out of you. The second one, that he absolutely loves is when he pins you to the wall and lifts your leg up to wrap them around his torso. He gets full access to your neck and you're helpless the entire time which makes him the one in control. And he loves it.

G = Goofy

It depends on the mood. At times when he is laying in bed on a Sunday and you two are doing your own thing, it hits you that this man IS YOUR MAN. And you love to bite. He may act as if it is annoying but he loves it and finds it cute. So when you won't stop at all even after several warnings. He gives you, "That's it. Come here." That is your queue to run. He'll pin you down and tickle you till the point you have tears in your eyes and beg him to stop. He'll sneak in kisses in between and out of 10, 7 times it turns out to be not just a friendly game. He'll end up tiring your enough so that you don't have any energy left. Ahem.

H = Hair

He LOVES when you play with his hair. He always missed this in past relationships, it was all about doing IT. But with you, he can have the best of both worlds. He loves it when you play with his hair and massage it before he goes to take a shower. He also loves to play with yours and snuggle in them and take in the scent of your shampoo. He WILL notice if you change it and ask you to go back to the one that he likes the most. Heh, it's cute. In a sexual way, I think it is very obvious that he is into pulling hair, when he wants to make space to kiss your neck he'll pull your hair, if he wants to see your face he'll pull your hair but one thing that he'll never admit that he likes BUT HE ACTUALLY LOVES IS when you tug on his hair. It awakens something in him that most of the time you aren't ready for.

I = Intimacy

He has been in a few relationships before but none of them were anywhere near to yours when it comes to intimacy. Either they were way too emotionally unavailable or would be too clingy to the point that he had no time to work on himself. But with you, for the first time can be emotionally vulnerable and show his soft side without worrying that you might judge him. The thought never even crossed his mind because you two have always had very good compatibility. Be it on the battle field or anywhere else. You just KNOW him and can figure out what is going on inside that head of his, which no one was quite able to do for as long as he remembers. Even back in school, he used to get annoyed when you'd read his mind but on the inside, you always left him in awe. He loves that he can talk to you about anything that is bothering him in the relationship and know that you'll actually work on it which makes him work on his shortcomings too. Ultimately making him a better version of himself.

J = Jack Off

He is off on missions a lot and they tire him to no end. So even if you're not there to help him ease his longings he is way too tired most of the time to jack off. But a single thought of you as he's taking a shower and that is all it takes. But he tries to avoid it whenever he is going back from a mission to make sure that he has enough energy to go the entire night because let's be honest it is tough to make you tired too.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

If anything, this man is Kinky as hell. It is tough to count them on one hand. But his favorites and the ones that he does more often are choking (it is easy to do it as you two are making out or when he wants to get a reaction out of you), pulling your hair (try to act up once and not give him what he needs and this is what you'll get) & restraining you by pinning your hands (you absolutely love it and you know what irritates him is when you try to take control, so the only thing that he can do to stop you is pinned your hands either on top of your head or hold them back)

L = Location (Favourite places to it)

Whenever he is back from a long mission he doesn't even go to his house, your house is the pit stop first. Wherever he can bend you over would do for him. What turns him on is when he holds your hand on your back and watches you lose all the little control you had. He also loves to pin you against the wall to gain all the control.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Whenever you act like a brat just puts him in the mood to not stop till you beg him to. You know that. And sometimes you act like a brat on purpose because you know the consequences. Or when you try to make him jealous. Although he is not the jealous type because he is very secure in himself, too much secure actually. So it'll take a lot of effort just to make him notice what on earth are you even doing. But once he does, it is a long night ahead of you two.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He'll never do it in some place where your privacy is compromised because he is a pro-hero. If you two get caught it'll be in news within a few minutes. People look up to him and especially kids and this is something that you two established pretty early that none of you have any interest in doing anything like this.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He loves receiving most of the time but whenever he is back from a long mission the first thing he wants to do is to taste you. He misses the taste of you a lot and randomly while at work it'll he'll start missing it. This one time when you were sharing your screen in a meeting his text popped up on the screen, "Can't wait to taste you tonight." You thanked all the angles as no one saw it. Hopefully, no one did.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He is usually fast and thrust very hard which you absolutely love. He is like that from the get-go knowing how much you love it but on the days when he feels like teasing you, he'll slow down his pace to a point that you get restless and have to move to get some friction. He usually stops you from doing that too by grabbing your neck to stop you from making any sort of motion.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Okay, this one is a BIG YES for him because most of the time this is the only thing you guys can do because of his busy schedule. But the ones that he absolutely loves are when you two are getting ready to go out on a date or a party and you wear something sexy. Let's just say that you'll be reaching the party a little late duty to "traffic".

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

BIG NO. Most of the time. He is never okay with taking risks when it comes to the privacy of you two so doing anything in the public is a big no but that doesn't mean that you two cannot disappear for a few minutes to "freshen up" at parties where absolutely anyone can walk in on you two in the room. Or whenever you visit him in the office, the biggest risk he can take is that someone might hear you two.

S = Stamina

When I say that he can go all night long! Usually, he doesn't though because you both are tired most of the time but when you two meet after a long time of separation because of some work or one of you went on vacation, just know that the first night together won't be the one where you catch up on all the lost sleep from past few days. You both actually can go for a very long amount of time. But Katsuki being Katsuki has to last longer so he would just make sure that you're absolutely done THEN he'll stop. Man needs to be no. 1 even in bed. You find it adorable though and also convenient because in the last relationships, you won't even get tired before they were DONE done.

T = Toy

He is not a big fan when you use them on him because that means giving up control. Bring it once and a BIG NO shall be expected in return. He was not okay with using them on you when he was there because why would you need a fake when he could give you the real deal?? But then you both tried it once and as soon as he realized that he can tease the shit out of you without putting in any effort at all MAN WAS HOOKED.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

So as I said he is BIG on teasing whenever you can. Normally you are a very calm person so how can he miss out on bringing out this side of yours and making you feel embarrassed? Just know that he'll make you beg a lot. Most of the time he won't do it on purpose but whine once and he is HOOKED and want to hear it again.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He is LOUD loud and that is one of the biggest reasons why he never wants to do it in any public area at all, because of his deep husky moans you two will get caught within one thrust. And he also loves to hear you. Whenever you are getting overstimulated and try to muffle your moans he pins your hand above your head and says or rather growls, "Let me hear what I'm doing to you."

W = Wild Card (Just a random headcanon because I cannot think of anything starting with W)

He has a clear case on his phone and has a polaroid picture of you two from this Christmas looking all cute. Which actually got caught by the paparazzi and went viral. Baku-squad mocked him the entire holiday season because of this. Little do they know that if you flip that image, it is a way more controversial image of you two… if you know what I mean.

X = X-Ray

As we all know that he is lean bulk. Because of his hero work, he has to have a lean physique and you absolutely love to lay on his chest because his huge pecks act as soft pillows. As for his arms, he has muscular and veiny arms that you like to trace when you two are cuddling. As for his legs, he's always had strong and bulky legs and he's been working on them recently especially because last weekend when all the Baku-squad bros met, Kri apparently had thicker legs than him. And we all know Katsuki never wants to be second in any way possible. As for his girth though he is quite thick and also long. Anyone's dream actually.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Even though you two don't do it that often but his drive is too high. Most of the time when he is back from work he is too tired to have sex but that doesn't mean that he is not down for other things.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

As soon as you both are cleaned and cuddled up, he's down. But at times when he cannot sleep, he may act because you have a habit of sleeping only after making sure that he slept. Because of the nightmares that he used to have. Once you're down, he'll stay up and stare at how relaxed you look. Secretly promising himself to never let anything happen to you at any cost.

_____________________________

Thanks For Reading and for the ask! Other A-Z Headcanon

If you liked it you can check out the masterlist too!

[crvwly]

For kiss roulette: 11, a kiss to the neck

(cw: drug use mention)

"Quite the bacchanalia, eh angel?"

Aziraphale practically jumps out of his skin at the whisper in his ear. He twists to look over his shoulder at Crowley, grinning ear to ear in a knowing way that brings a sheepish flush to Aziraphale's cheeks in record time.

"Crowley," he greets simply, ignoring the bait and looking forward again. "I shouldn't be surprised to see you here."

"But I very much should," Crowley says, slinking around to stand beside him and lean into his personal space, grin growing impossibly wider. "And am. What on Earth could bring such a pure, divine being as yourself to a Festival of Bacchus? There's nothing here but drunken revelry and a sexual free-for-all."

Aziraphale keeps his gaze steadfastly ahead, even as the blush on his face starts creeping down his neck, even though Crowley is leering so closely that his breath is warm and incredibly distracting against the shell of Aziraphale's ear.

"Precisely," Aziraphale says, proud of the way he keeps his tone level. "These sorts of events tend to get out of hand."

"Ah," Crowley says, quirking a brow and tilting his head. "Killjoy cover - pretty good."

In his peripheral, Aziraphale sees him lick his lips. He fights the urge to shiver. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, nothing," Crowley says, slithering behind Aziraphale to his other side in a way that shouldn't be possible for his human-shaped body. "It won't be as transparent to them as it is to me. They don't understand these things the way we do."

Aziraphale stands straighter, looking dead ahead. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"I only mean," Crowley says, smirking, "that if anyone asked of your whereabouts tonight and you needed a cover story for indulging in a festival of intoxication and ecstasy, preventing humans from engaging in the more intense activities that can culminate of these events is... pretty good."

"But I'm not indulging, am I?" Aziraphale says, daring a glance at Crowley just to raise an imprudent brow at him.

A mistake, of course; the fire illuminating the grounds bathes Crowley in soft light, cheeks and nose rosy from the wine and warm weather. He's wearing his hair in plaits wrapped around his head like a crown, a fashion popular with the young women of Rome for now. Aziraphale admires the way Crowley attempts to keep up with their trends, taking bits and pieces of them that suit him and hoarding them like treasure; like the jewellery the Romans find so fetching this century, the same rich yellow as Crowley's eyes.

The Romans do so covet amber, he would say, if he were braver. Do they admire your eyes that way, the same way I do?

He swallows hard and looks away again with an odd, tight feeling in his chest. "I imagine you are? Indulging, I mean to say."

"In the drink, certainly," Crowley says. "The rich cult that throws the sex festivals makes the best vino in the country."

"But not...?"

Aziraphale's gaze falls on a couple getting amorous beneath a tree, hands roaming over each others' bodies and open mouths clashing together, and looks up and away with his face burning as if his interest is suddenly taken by the stars. He's not easily embarrassed, and certainly not by sex in general; it's trivial, it's human, until it's being discussed with the one being in all of creation who knows exactly how to get under Aziraphale's skin, who introduced him to the pleasures of a different kind of flesh, and who seems, for some reason, to have a vested interested in Aziraphale indulging.

"Nah," Crowley says, looking out at the scattered sea of writhing bodies partaking in the evening's festivities. "Demon, humans... just doesn't feel right. Tempter of the original sin, and all. Gets weird when I think about it too much."

"I suppose that makes sense," Aziraphale says, returning his gaze to the Earth and wishing for some kind of breeze to cool himself down; he ought to have brought a handfan, but he always forgets how balmy Roman summers are. "So you're just here drinking and..."

"Soaking up the debauchery," Crowley says, his grin renewed. He leans back and takes a deep breath in, finally giving Aziraphale more than an inch of space to himself again, and lets it out with a sigh of satisfaction; if it sounds a bit more like a moan than a sigh for a moment, it's really none of Aziraphale's business. He was probably imagining it in the first place. "Oh, it's like nothing else. You ever try opium?"

"Just the once. I wasn't a fan of the come-down."

"Remember those wavessss of euphoria," Crowley says, hissing as he tends to do when he's intoxicated and tipping his head back like he's basking in the indecency of it all, "that hit you at random? No rhyme or reason, just ecstasy - that's what it feels like here, if I let all wash over me properly. All of them, lost to pleasure, getting off on the idea of seeing each other get off."

Heat curls in the pit of Aziraphale's stomach and he swallows, mouth suddenly dry.

As if he can tell - good Lord, can he? - Crowley brings his head back down and smiles at Aziraphale, teeth showing in a way that ought to be threatening but only stokes the coals of Aziraphale's interest.

"But there can only be one weirdo lurking in the corner and watching at these things, you know," he says, stalking around Aziraphale and leaning over his shoulder to speak again, voice lowering. "Now there's two of us just standing about, sticking out like sore thumbs. Being the clothed ones at the orgy can draw unwanted attention."

Crowley's lips brush his ear with the final word and Aziraphale's heart thuds against his chest loud enough he's certain Crowley must be able to hear it. If he can, he doesn't comment on it.

"Over by that frisky trio in the bushes, see him?" he says instead, nodding toward the stranger in question, who's giving Aziraphale a suggestive look. "He's been eyeing you this whole time. If he thinks you're available, instead of just watching, he might come seeking your attention."

His hand comes up to skim a touch across Aziraphale's shoulderblades, a ghost of a caress where his wings would be, and Aziraphale realises he lost control of this interaction quite awhile ago and has no desire to get it back.

"How would you suggest I make myself appear... less available?" Aziraphale murmurs, tilting his head in the slightest, an offering he hopes doesn't go overlooked.

Crowley's hand drifts back from his shoulder to his neck and a pair of slender fingers curl around the collar of his tunic, gingerly pulling the fabric aside so Crowley can dip his head and press his lips to the base of Aziraphale's neck, hot like a brand against his skin. Aziraphale's eyes fall half-shut and he bites back a groan, head tipping further to the side as Crowley kisses his jaw, nosing at the tender spot beneath his ear.

"Something like this might help," Crowley murmurs against his skin. "Is he still looking?"

Aziraphale glances back to the stranger, who has decidedly lost interest and is now pleasuring himself to the sight of the frisky trio in the bushes.

"Yes," he lies, shutting his eyes.

"Good," Crowley says, lips grazing his jaw again. "I've got a few other ideas."

[adulting-sucks]

Evans has two choices: stay in whatever this is and as if he is okay with hate, racism, homophobia, transphobia, antisemitism, and body shaming OR end whatever this is and address it. Apologize. Start his activism work again. What he’s doing now is not it.//

We also have a choice….stay and continue discussing this mess or leave and move on with our lives. People want Chris to live up to this image he’s ….his hired team built (ie waiting for him to address everything or prove this is real or PR or whatever) when the actuality of the situation is…..this may indeed be who his is. This isn’t the first time Chris has been in mess. When he started a public relationship with a married woman, that wasn’t the final straw?

He’s shown who he is multiple times, but people keep moving that marker because they want to believe he’s “Chris Evans” the celeb and is a semi decent guy who made a mistake getting involved in this crap and not Chris Evans a random white man who is famous and lives in Boston, Massachusetts where racism is prevalent, a random man who’s dating a woman 16 yrs younger, a random man who’s probably like other men or worse than many of the men we actually know. A random man who is using his fame and power to get what he wants and live however he wants while publicly acting like he’s the opposite. A random guy who calls his fans crazy when they are messing up his PR stunt but says he’s loves them when they are helping hide his dick pic online after HE “accidentally” leaks it.

Hollywood is a business, they pay him, they dictate how he moves at times because they determine if he remains relevant so he does what’s needed while getting multiple perks. PR works because HW knows how invested people are in these celebs and the celebs know it too, which is why they go through with the PR crap. When we’re freaking out over stuff, they are somewhere relaxing or plotting their next move based on reaction…..how long do we choose to continue to entertain them and be used is the ultimate question.

You can ignore it if you choose. I won’t ever ignore racism, homophobia, transphobia, antisemitism, body shaming, that’s just not in me.

Look, he’s spent 20+ years fighting these things. I don’t see him all of a sudden being a racist antisemite who’s loving shaming women for their bodies.

The image of the internets boyfriend is gone, and I couldn’t care less about that. I care about the people, myself included, who have been hurt by the inaction and performative actions at a time when we needed someone on our side. We’re being killed left and right for no reason.

If he is shitty boyfriend, great. I am not going to date him. If he likes to sleep around, awesome. Everyone should embrace their sexuality. If he wants to get hair plugs and Botox, do it! Do what makes you feel better.

But if he wants to be as vile and disgusting as the other people involved in this, then no. I refuse to ignore it, I will always call it out, and if people cannot understand why that is so important, then they haven’t been paying attention