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#man showering
carterthomassc · 1 month
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qourmet · 5 months
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i fucked up yesterday, i chopped peppers & let their spice soak into my skin. & had to draw something about it. he'd do this.
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+ wen qing's anger & wen ning's concern
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99pm-e · 2 months
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laurie: where tf is my shampoo set?
michael:
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(im sleepy idk why i drew this)
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spicyvampire · 3 months
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Phaya + crushing Tharn in his arms in a bed
THE SIGN (2023) EP. 2 // EP. 10
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pianokantzart · 2 months
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Mechanic Luigi representation 🔧
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basil-under-a-blanket · 4 months
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Quick transmasc lifehack to do after getting out of the shower
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ebonyperfection · 1 year
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sugarbabiesworld · 2 days
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lilalbatross · 1 year
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trent crimm + the twitchiest, most uncomfortable week of his life
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carterthomassc · 3 months
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greenieflor · 8 months
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Robin sits on the sink and talks about girls while steve showers and does his hair routine
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anime-b1tch19 · 1 month
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What Doja said ;)
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slutforsilverfoxes · 6 months
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Imagine…
Starting to make dinner in Aaron’s apartment on a Thursday night. He’s just gone for a shower, washing away his last case and the worst parts of the world that he falls privy to day in and day out as Unit Chief of the BAU.
You’re humming along to your oldies but goodies playlist while sipping a glass of white wine that’s too sweet for Aaron’s liking. As the current song fades out and the familiar notes of a Bee Gees tune start, you realize with a smile just how many of these songs you've compiled make you think of your love.
And, speak of the furthest thing from the devil, suddenly he’s there, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind as his body perfectly molds to the dips and curves of your own. He guides you back and forth in a gentle sway, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder as he releases a deep sigh.
You allow your eyes to drift shut and your head to fall back against Aaron so you can bury your nose in the crook of his neck. "Sauce'll burn," you mumble, letting his familiar smell wash over you and sending warm tingles throughout your body.
"Let it," he responds just as softly. "We'll order something. Need to hold you."
You release a sound of contentment that's half-sigh, half-hum, nuzzling even deeper into him as if you can become one person if you try hard enough. In this moment, there's no yesterday or tomorrow. There's no anticipation of the next phone call that will take your love across the country again. There's no darkness, no fear, no evil lurking around the corner. There's just you and the man you love more than anything else in the world.
You dot gentle kisses along the expanse of his skin that you can reach without moving, and he squeezes you tighter in response. "Marry me," Aaron breathes out on a sigh. "I'll make it more romantic later, I promise. Just tell me you'll be mine forever."
"Oh, my baby," you murmur. "I already am."
—————
AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner @iyv-ray24 @mrs-ssa-hotch @criminalskies @callm3c0nfus3d
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macfrog · 8 days
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hi queenie, love of my life 😌 i’d like to ask the following for 🩵: d’you think there was ever a moment where joel really thought holy shit. she drives me insane… i gotta fuck her. ???
(rly hoping there was 😌)
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ily, sister! thanks for the gif. feeling really. normal. about him. right now. oh, yeah. he had his moments. let's get into it.
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compensation 1.1k words | duckie's baby shower 🩵 warnings: literally just joel masturbating to the thought of his neighbor. good shit.
she can’t have been older than twenty-five, when she moved in.
hell, she’s not even thirty yet, as it is. she’s too fucking –
you’re too fucking young for him, and that’s the end of that.
at least – that’s what joel’s telling himself, trapped on your front porch. watching you relive the story of the ups driver who almost wouldn't let you sign for his package.
doing his best to keep his eyes on yours, and not the thin tank top you’re wearing.
“…she’s like, how do i know you’re gonna get this to him? i’m like, uh, what the fuck do i want with my boring ass neighbor’s mail? no offense, joel. but c’mon. i’m literally signing for it. anyways.”
you turn, bending down for the box by the stairs, and joel drags his eyes upwards.
his hand shakes at his side. jaw ticks, watching you turn back, the package leaning against your front. your breasts – oh, jesus.
he swallows. his throat feels like carpet burn.
“’s heavy,” you mutter, edging towards him. “rock collecting?”
“mind your business,” joel clips, slipping his hands around the box. the back of his wrists brush against the swell of your breasts, and he stares so intensely at his own address on the label that he hopes it’s burned forever into his vision.
you huff as the weight passes into his hands. a little sigh.
something twitches beneath his belt buckle.
joel sits the box on his hip. “well, thanks for this. and for calling me boring.”
you cross your arms. it only pushes your tits up more. “stay humble, old man.”
he should walk away. right now. he should take his package, and his pride, and the fucking rock in his jeans – and head on home.
but then you slump against the doorpost, one ankle crossing over the other, and say, “s’posed to get pretty hot this summer.”
“’s already pretty hot.”
“hotter, jackass. they’re sayin’ record temperatures.”
“they say that every year.”
you poke at the inside of your cheek with your tongue. the way you always do, when you’re trying to annoy him.
and it’s working.
“actually, uh –” joel shifts between feet, “– i was gonna ask you a favor.”
“mhm?”
his gaze trickles down your figure. each curve and swell of supple skin. the shorts he’s getting a little too used to seeing you in, too used to looking for. your bare legs, and the glow of sun on them.
when he looks back up, you’re smirking at him.
christ, he wants to wipe that smirk clean off your face. wants to twist it into something darker, something…something louder, and filthier, and –
“joel. hellooo?”
you wave your hand in front of his face, and he snaps back.
“huh? oh, shit. sorry – i, uh…” a flush rises like an inferno up his neck. he shakes his head, fighting it off. “yeah. a favor.”
“you good? don’t pass out on my porch,” you warn. “wait until you’re back on your own land to do that.”
he breathes a laugh – panting, almost. “i’m good. i just – i need someone to water my, uh – my plants. i’m outta town next week, visitin’ my brother. if you wouldn’t mind…”
he feels like a fucking moron when he finally meets your eye again.
you blink back at him, frowning. head tipped, looking him up and down. “i don’t mind,” you say, something cautious in your voice, “but i expect generous compensation for my time.”
“compensation,” joel agrees, nodding. he’d do anything to be off this goddamn porch right now. “how about i’ll owe you one?”
“works for me.”
“alright. thank you, again,” he holds the package up, “and, uh – i’ll see ya.”
he’s gone before he hears your response.
too young. she’s too young. you’re so young. goddamn it.
you drive him fucking insane. you and your little shorts, the simper on your face. he swears he could see through the white of your top, two perfect circles where –
oh, fuck.
he spills into his bathroom, a heavy hand slamming down on the valve. the water roars from the showerhead, louder than the blood in his ears.
joel hauls his tee over his shoulders, the fabric peeling from his muscles and crumpling in a damp pile on the floor. he shucks the rest of his clothes off, kicking them to the side, and steps straight into the cubicle.
he looks down, and – fucking hell.
his cock sways between his legs, all rosy and already dripping. he can feel his pulse hammering at his tip; hisses when the stream sprays over it.
his hand lifts, curving around air.
shit, he just wants to touch himself. wants to relieve the ache between his hips. he has to.
he balls his fists against the tiled wall. his head drops low between his shoulders. the water pours down over him, pastes his dark hair in soaking flicks around his face. he can taste the salt of sweat and sun as it slips from his skin.
once. if he only did it once, would it matter? he’s hard now, anyways. there’s a quick fix.
you just – you caught him off-guard. he only went over there to pick up a package. he didn’t fucking know you’d be – oh, christ – he didn’t know you’d be in that shirt. no bra, no nothing beneath it.
he can still feel the plush of your tits on his knuckles. the way they moved as you leant against the doorframe. he can still see the summery shine on your skin.
he thinks about slipping his hands under the hem of your tank. up, up, up, across your smooth skin until he’s cupping them. squeezing them; circling his thumbs over the hardening peaks.
the short breaths from your lips, your smirk melted into a delicate o-shape. voiceless, nothing but whimpering and gasping when his teeth take your nipple.
before he even realizes it – he’s stroking his cock.
and quickly.
he groans, lips turning to his bicep. he bites down on the skin, hard.
he’d slip your shorts down your hips; see whatever slutty little panties you wear. he’d pull your thighs over his shoulders, unfold your sweet cunt and –
“shit,” joel pants, hips stuttering. his fingers splay out on the slippery tile.
you’re so infuriating. loudmouthed and fucking bratty. and he could shut you up, he knows he could. he’d sit you on his cock, wrapped perfectly around him, and fuck you dumb. fuck you until you’re nothing but a sobbing, soaking mess.
fuck you with that scrap of a tank top on. tits bouncing beneath it, the fabric riding higher and higher until they’re exposed.
what a good fuckin’ girl, taking all of him. letting him split you open, letting him fuck you raw. so big he’ll leave an ache deep inside you; so hard that he makes you come three times over before he’s even close.
but – fuck, he’s close, right now.
“c’mon, baby,” he mutters into his skin. teeth gritted; fist so tight the skin threatens to split across his knuckles. “make me come, c’mon.”
it’d dribble from your cunt, and he’d push it straight back in. make damn sure you keep it all in there, make damn sure you’re walking around all full of him. the seam of your thighs slick, semen seeping into your panties.
“goddamn,” he groans, and with a throb, coats the shower wall.
his cock twitches, pulses until he’s empty. the ache begins to thaw.
he shuts the shower off, still massaging his softening dick as he steps back out. he lifts a towel and drags it across his tingling body.
and he swears, when he notices the sun dipping below your roof –
it will never happen again.
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arsenicpanda · 9 months
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the #1 archiereggie shipper, but in a homophobic way
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