#🐯

[shopcat]

Can you watch this freaking thing for me

[imagone]

I love how choso is just, the definition of on sight. he sees a bastard who hurt his family? he attacks. said bastard turns out to be his family? he protects. bastard has been hurt by other bastard who’s also family? he attacks.

this man has not a single thought behind his eyes, just a 5’11 beast on pure onii-chan instincts

[yotume]

[mcondance]

i won’t even lie, i’d be the office 🐱 idc. reid, hotch, and morgan could take alllllll of that stress out on me idccccc

-🐯

MDNI; reader’s outfit is referred to as “distracting” | no morgan included cause i don’t wanna fuck him oops | reader can be fucked against a wall

hotch comes in fuming. locks eyes with you and all it takes is him yanking at his tie and a nod towards the room where it always happens.

or, spencer’s irritated and frustrated cause he can’t figure the case out. wracking his brain for any piece of knowledge that could help him. he’s tired and aggravated, and as he leans back in his chair, taking in the office, there you are. pants tight enough to distract even wonder boy, and shirt clinging to your gracious body.

hotch beckons you into a back room, somewhere far away from the blood and carnage that has driven him into your arms, in between your legs and inside you while you sit on a forgotten desk, spread for him to fuel his frustration into something. something good.

you cry and you whine and you sob, and it hurts but it feels just how you need it to, hotch gives it to you just how you like it. the sounds you give him are confused, don’t know whether they want to be sobs of pain or cries of pleasure and at this point, who gives a damn.

you use his first name, unusual and reserved, choking out “aa-” and just barely reaching the rest because he’s reached that spot inside you, and if he can’t solve the case, then he damn sure can make you feel good and make himself feel good too.

spencer’s an office fuck. he needs you on top of him, thighs wet and braced on either side of his legs, chair backed up against the wall so it doesn’t buckle under the force of you and spencer’s ruts and grinds and fucks.

you fuck the frustration out of him, have him choked up and slipping on his words like only you can. head thrown back with you speaking praises and promises in his ear, he’s grateful to have you around whenever he needs to blow off some steam. or, when he needs you to blow it off for him.

he’s cried, let his anger roll down his red face and drop down onto his button-up. other times, when he feels like everyone has everything together except him, he handles you differently.

still frustrated, he’s got you pinned against the wall before you can speak his name. he’s desperate and upset, and he fucks like it. ruts into you and screws you like he’s not the skinniest guy you’ve ever seen.

“stress relief” is what they call you. they’ve got too much love and admiration for you to call you anything else.

[jji-lee]

"oooooh baby baby baby it's our song, c'mere" you giggled at your boyfriend, mark's, current state. four homemade cocktails and 2 playlists later, mark was in a fuzzy mood, dancing to every song that came up. you got up to join his swaying figure, "since when is this our song markie?" roy orbison's pretty woman played softly in the background. mark grabbed your hand slowly spinning you before you stopped to face him, his hands landing on your hips, "hmm, maybe not our song but definitely your song baby, cause you're my pretty woman." mark wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning down to snuggle his face into your neck, he sang softly to the song, his breath tickling you. "pretty woman, yeah, yeah, yeah, pretty woman, look my way, pretty woman, say you'll stay with meeee" you chuckled at his singing, knowing that he was dedicating it to you, "mark lee, you are such a lover boy." he lifted his head from your neck, letting go of your waist, using his hands instead to move all of your hair from your face to plant a soft kiss onto your lips, "for you baby, of course i am, you're made for me."

[abdocado]

Tiger zoro

[unisongakikoeru]

imagine your f/o holding your hand, and thinking to themself, "their hands are so soft..."

proship/comship dni

[huffroast]

[8-rae-rae-8]

Thinking of werewolf!Ghost again and like thinking of him and gaz playing while the two were regressing but he(ghost) somehow accidentally bites the other regressor which possibly infects Gaz with lycanthropy and he just feels bad and doesn't know what to do so he just goes to hide in his room since he doesn't know how to comfort Gaz as his dear friend slowly transforms -🐯

Ghost gives him everything he'd possibly need, before locking himself away. Literally and figuratively.

He couldn't watch knowing it was his fault, so he'd stay away while being incredibly firm with Price to help Gaz with literally anything he needs. Even though Simon had no business telling Price to do that, he did it anyway.

Regressing while in wolf form no longer is any kind of fun. He starts telling Johnny he can't stay in his room at all anymore, refuses to regress even in human form. He saw himself as a danger, so he'd protect like he knew how to. From a distance.

Ghost gives Gaz his special dog bed, which is huge and very comfortable. Even though Gaz doesn't need something as big at it is, Simon forces him to take it.

Bad dogs don't deserve comfort, sleep on the floor like the mutt you are, English.

[shopcat]

the baby has one parent's little face marking thing and the other's coat because they're a little horse family the world is a beautiful place

[imagone]

[inahoxxx]

シャンブらないしタクトらないし来てくれない

[mcondance]

office pussy!reader asking hotch to come over and help build some new furniture only to get fucked on said new furniture ??

-🐯

MDNI 18+ not much expansion on my Thing abt him being a Man cause i have plans that i cannot share with you all at this time | reader is shorter than hotch

it’s not like it’s out of the question. you and hotch in a space together, you in a little pair of shorts and a little tee, him in his second uniform as you call it, a red polo and some cargos.

fucking isn’t out of the question when you’re alone with him. it doesn’t always happen. but there’s the times it does.

you’d asked him earlier if he could swing by after work to put a little vanity together, telling him that you could, but you know he’d get it done much faster.

his hands work diligently, eyes flitting between the pieces in his hand and the instructions on the floor.

and he looks. . god he looks good. he’s doing this for you, stationed on the ottoman at the end of you bed, focused, eyebrows furrowed, muscles tightening and loosening as he works. you bring him juice and snacks, flirting just a little as you feed them to him with a knowing little glint in your eyes.

he knows what you’re doing. but he’s as much of a worker as he is a player. he’s got to work now.

and as he places the finishing touches on the vanity and places it where you ask, he can play now.

play.

his hands find your waist between that little shirt and shorts, lips moving against yours like he’s hungry for you. he’s always hungry for you.

your arms are thrown over his shoulders and it’s limbo for a second, filthy kisses taken and given in the middle of your bedroom until he’s walking you back toward the vanity, leaning back against it and opening his legs so you can fit between them.

here, he cups your face in his big hands, devouring you. you grip at his shirt, pulling him to you until he’s walking you, and you’re placed against the vanity now.

clothes don’t mean a thing, his pants unbuttoned and your shorts simply pulled to the side.

the vanity shakes and bumps, banged into the wall by his lewd thrusts, pushes so good your legs clasp behind his back, arms throw over his shoulders and tense up, mouth falls open with cries and sobs. he’s fucking you in every sense of the word, driving into you so beautiful and sweet your body aches, all fuzzy around the edges.

he groans and hums, his chest vibrating against yours. strong arms hold you, make his moves that much better. cries and sobs spill out of your mouth, all you can give him with how he’s screwing you against the furniture he’d just built.

after, with his polo all wrinkled and your face sticky with tears, you tell him thank you, since you’d only gotten to tell him the vanity looks good before you jumped each other’s bones. he hums in you’re welcome, a knowing little laugh trailing behind.

[jeonwon-wonwoo]

hoshi: allure korea photo shoot behind

960615: Happy Birthday, Hoshi!

[alien-slushie]

Tiger/Atsushi: *growls*

Dazai: You sly kitty! I never would have thought of that!

Yasano: I'm sorry but can he actually understand him like that, or is he just messing with us?

Chuuya: Knowing him, it may very well be both.