I Support Perverts. Like All Of You For Example

in Japan, today(May 5th) is Children's day🎏

“No,” Tony shakes his head, “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what!?” Peter demands, exasperated, “What is it that we cannot do?”

“This, us,” Tony sighs, “Kid, you have to understand. I’m not made for you. You’re meant to go out and find someone your own age, who doesn’t have drinking problems and isn’t mentally unstable. You deserve better than me, Pete.”

“I don’t want anything better, Tony,” Peter narrows his eyes, his chin jutting up, “There isn’t anyone better out there for me. I want you.”

“Kid–”

“Stop calling me that,” Peter growls, “I’m twenty-five fucking years old. I’m not that sixteen year old you met all those years ago. I’ve grown up and I know what I want. And I know what you want, too.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Peter,” Tony tells him sadly, “And you being twenty-five now doesn’t lessen our age gap.”

“Damn our age gap, then!” Peter cries. He reaches out for the older man’s hands and pulls him closer so that their faces are only inches apart. “Damn what anyone else has to say about us and damn what you think I want. Because I want you. How many times do I have to say it?”

“Until you realize what a mistake that is,” Tony whispers. He grazes his thumb over Peter’s cheekbone and down to the corner of his lip. Peter shudders and closes his eyes, leaning into the touch, “You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart.”

“I think I do,” Peter smiles lightly, he takes a few steps closer and backs Tony into the wall. And then it all comes stumbling out, “You think I’m adorable when I’m mad. You want me but falsely believe you cannot have me. You feel overwhelmed that I exist.”

Tony blinks, his eyes searching Peter’s face, “What, are you reading my non-existent diary or something?”

Peter laughs breathily. “I know you don’t remember telling me those things. But drunk words <i>are</i> sober thoughts.”

With a deep swallow, Tony sighs, “You got me there, kid.”

“Tony, I said to stop calling me kid,” Peter practically whines.

“Force of habit,” Tony shrugs.

“Okay, then for now on you’ll be Mr. Stark again. I’ll add in a few sirs here and there, too. You know what, maybe I’ll even call you da–”

He’s cut off by an abrupt but welcome crash of the lips. Peter hums and instantly melts into it, his hands finding Tony’s defined biceps. He takes it one step further by pressing Tony closer to the wall and opening his mouth, welcoming the older man’s tongue. Tony seems hesitant at first but doesn’t take too long to start exploring Peter’s mouth as if it’s his last day on earth.

Heat races up and down Peter’s body and everything within him buzzes for more. More of Tony, more of them, together, as one. Involuntarily, his hips thrust into Tony’s, but the pleasure that follows isn’t anything he’d give up.

Tony pulls back just slightly, their foreheads pressed together, “Peter–”

“Shut up,” Peter demands through gritted teeth. He pulls Tony back into the kiss, and Tony lets him. Peter feels Tony’s hands travel down to the back of his thighs before he's suddenly hoisted up so that his legs are wrapped around Tony’s torso.

“Couch,” Peter pants between kisses. Tony obliges and walks him over to the couch, not breaking the kiss even as he sets Peter down onto his back.

Peter uses his legs to squeeze Tony in closer and his hands on the older man’s hips to guide them into steady thrusts. Tony and Peter’s moans are twisted together in a sort of harmony.

“God, kid, you’re perfect,” Tony gasps, “So beautiful. Breathtaking.”

Peter flips them over and Tony is sitting up with Peter on his lap. “Just for you, sir,” Peters smirks, satisfied when Tony’s entire body jerks in pleasure at the title, and dives in for more.

I’m watching through the show in order for the first time

Reid + Hotch

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?” “Yes.”

yoonmin at it again ♡ run bts 65

saw someone getting mad at people in the fandom for being too pervy... like. This is the Pervert™️ show. Will and Hannibal are capital F Freaks. They are nasty. They are disgusting. They fuck and 10 people are dead-type freak. And that's so fucking hot.

like this is why ive been so scared to get into hannibal their fans are actually insane in such a good way

you all come up with concepts and ideas that tickly my brain so well but theyre things that i never imagined i would see or think of and that every person in this fandom has somehow managed to depict SO PERFECTLY and im like scared of how much you all are capable of you are all literally crazy

Bathtime 💖

DEREK MORGAN & SPENCER REID | CRIMINAL MINDS 2.11 ‘SEX, BIRTH, DEATH”

forever is the sweetest con: chapter one

Chapter One: Genesis

A/N: hello there. glad to have you. I've got this posted on Ao3 already, but I've decided to crosspost here. Here we go.

Summary:

If asked now, he’d see it clearly. Where it started, how it started, and why. It all comes back to Tobias Hankel.

OR

Hotch/Reid through the years and what happens when things are left unsaid.

~000~

If asked now, he’d say it was obvious. Where things were going- where they’d always been going since that day in February, when the sharp chill of the Georgia air hardly touched the team when compared to the way fear turned their blood to ice in their veins.

In Aaron Hotchner’s veins, when the call came in.

JJ was gone, no one could reach her.

And Reid- Spencer- was gone, still, when they did eventually find her.

If asked now, he’d see it clearly. Where it started, how it started, and why.

It all comes back to Tobias Hankel.

“I choose-” He watched on in desperate fear, eyes never leaving the screen. He couldn’t bring himself to move, to look away, to close his eyes when he knew any second how that trigger could be pulled and Spencer Reid would disappear in front of him. “I choose Aaron Hotchner.”

All eyes turned to him, but he remained frozen. He heard the sharp intake of breath from his left, felt JJ’s eyes slide over his expression. His face remained neutral, schooled thanks to years in this role. He, despite what Reid might say, had the best poker face of them all.

“He’s a classic narcissist.” Hotch watched intently as Reid continued, looking for any slight of hand, any tell Reid could be giving. It was a message, and he knew that. He just needed the cipher. Come on, Reid, he thought. I need more than that. You’ve got to give me more than that.

“He thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4-” He burned the words into his memory. He needed to remember that, he knew it. He knew Reid. “Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, falseness, vanity, and futility. For these shall be his recompense-”

Thank you, Reid, his eyes finally, finally slid shut as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Thank you.

He turned on his heel, exiting the room. Out in the living room of that old, dank house, Hotch retrieved the bible left on the side table.

“I’m not a narcissist-” He started, ready to start translating Reid’s message.

“Come on, Aaron, you can’t take anything he said personally-”

“No, Gideon, stop, stop-” He snapped, frustrated. That’s not the point, how do you not get it? His mind raced, and he briefly wondered if this was how Reid felt every moment of the day. “Everybody right now, what’s my worst quality?”

The team stared at him blankly, and the wild streak of anger and impatience he worked so hard to control flared again. That’s not the fucking point, he wanted to scream at them. It’s right in front of you and you’re all missing it. “Stop worrying about hurting my fucking feelings- tell me, now. My worst quality. I’ll start. I have no sense of humor. Prentiss?”

“You trust men more than women.”

“Okay, JJ?”

“You’re a bully.”

“Alright, I’m a bully. Morgan, go.”

“You can be a drill sergeant sometimes.”

“Good, I’m all of those things,” And he was, he wasn’t blind to his own faults. Everything they had said was true, but- “Yet, none of you said I put myself above the team because I don’t. Ever.” Still, they didn’t get it, and he groaned in frustration. “Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism on the way here. He knew that I would remember that.”

“Hotch, we know you’re not a narcissist, man-”

“That’s not the point.” He finally snapped. “That’s not the fucking point, listen-” He looked up and finally, finally, he had their attention. “He quoted it wrong. Genesis chapter 23, verse 4, look-” He lifted the scripture into the light and read the correct quotation aloud. “I am a stranger and a sojourner with you, give me property for a burial place among you, that I might bury my dead out of my sight.” It registered with Gideon first, and Aaron could breathe a bit easier. “He wouldn’t get it wrong unless it was on purpose.” He insisted, holding eye contact. “He wouldn’t.”

“He’s in a cemetery.” Morgan muttered, and now Hotch could take a real breath.

The rest moved quickly. He did it, he found Reid, they were there and he just had to find where in the cemetery-

Then the shot rang out from just over the hill Aaron’s own two feet were standing on, and everything slowed down again as he ran towards it. “Reid!” He shouted. “Spencer!”

Not like this. Please, just not like this.

“Hotch?!” He doesn’t remember getting there. He doesn’t remember his path from the top of the hill down to the bottom, or who was following in his wake. He just remembers the relief flooding his chest as he pulled Spencer Reid off the earth and into his arms.

“You okay?” He muttered, one hand wrapped firmly around Reid’s waist while the other cradled his head.

“I knew you’d understand.” Spencer choked on a sob and tightened his hold, tears staining the collar of Hotch’s shirt. “I knew you’d understand.”

And so it began.

Hannibal (2013-2015)

1x03 || 1x05 || 2x13