love the fact that it’s a universal truth amongst fic writers that spencer reid always goes down on the reader and aaron hotchner would pick up a phone call in the middle of fucking you
no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizon, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic.
the turtle neck. the glasses. the fluffy hair. GOD. i’m not okay. this is a grown ass MAN i should not be feelings this way…. yet i’m twirling my hair like a god damn fool… this SLUT ! he wore this for me. he KNEW what it would do to me.
whoever the casting director was for criminal minds is the most blessed soul on this earth. i hope they live forever. i hope they always smell really good. i hope their pillow is always cold at night. i hope their partner always makes them cum. i wish them nothing but the best in life.
someone needs to give hozier the best head he’s ever had a big ole kiss on the lips for simply being the man he is and writing the songs he writes and singing the way he sings