#4 of 18?

[starvyanamia]

im soooo impatient. i want to be skinny nowwwwww. but consistency is key!

[pawperanimal]

[neishroom]

wanted to do one of those closet breakdown things for gabe

[inkskinned]

the problem is that being single is seen as the consolidation prize, and not the natural neutral state of being-a-person. at the end of the movie or the book or the poetry, there is a person waiting for you at the altar, and they love you. if the play is a comedy, everyone gets married. the metaphor is about how you are not-whole. the metaphor is about how everyone is going to be happily-ever-after. the metaphor is that romantic love is the most important resource on the planet, not just all-love. all-love is not a thing, that is a disappointment. the treasure is not the friends we made along the way. the treasure is the girl you landed.

the metaphor is that you cannot be alone, that means you are broken. are you getting over someone? that is acceptable, you can be getting over someone, but not for long. you must be single because you would rather not be single. you must be single and looking to not-be-single. you must want to date, eventually.

friendship and community are never seen as being equal-to or even-better than romantic connection. that person is your one! you need to find them. you need to hunt through the sand particles until you can shift out some kind of gem. this is regardless to your own experience of the beach and the sun. you need to be somewhere with someone.

if you are taking this time alone to heal, that is so sad. everyone gives you this little pitying look. the understanding is that you are not actually happier than you were before you were single. it is seen as a sort of pity - oh, you are choosing yourself, making yourself the priority? - that isn't quite right. you must mean that you are making yourself ready for the right person. you are just laying the bed better this time. open up your heart. you'll find them, we promise!

what do you mean you're really-truly genuinely-very happy? you are probably misremembering what it was like to be in a relationship. and besides, once you meet your person, that time will look grey and bland and wasted. your person is the only way for you to see in color. so what if you have taken this time - for the first time in your entire life - to actually-for-real do the fucking work. you can be proud of yourself, sure. but the way we need to know that you got better is that you get a partner. you're healed enough for the next bad part!

people don't choose to be single, they just say they're choosing to be single - they actually mean "nobody wants to date me." it doesn't matter how many people you have gently rejected or how many times you've talked it over carefully in therapy. what matters is that you are single, and by all accounts - that means you are something worth our pity. your successes and life all seem pale in the sunlight. sure, you have done amazing things and finally found your way in life. what matters is that there wasn't a person in the room with you while you did it.

you want to tell them - that's the whole thing. i didn't know how to be alone in the room. i didn't know how to handle the silence. every moment was so sharp, and i kept choosing the wrong way to close the door. i have spent my entire life in the empty well, living in the ricochet of someone else's cruelty. for once i have built myself a ladder. for once everything i taste is all mine, every bite of sunshine and laughter. i have learned how to sleep out in the open with my memories. recently, they have started to purr.

your father rolls his eyes. listen. this isn't about you. i just want a grandchild in my future.

[girldriveroscar]

feel like not enough ppl r aware of 19 yr old renault oscar randomly getting juiced with insane charisma

[vacationbimboschool]

Why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?

ˏˋ°•*—☏ Rafe x reader

Content below: Phone sex, masturbation, dirty talking, mention of drugs, smut all the way, 18+ MDNI

Words: 962

It was 3 a.m. when your phone rang.

Rubbing your eyes, still half-asleep, you reached for it without checking the caller ID.

"Hey, baby," a husky voice murmured on the other end.

You knew instantly—it was Rafe. And you knew why he was calling. He had been using again. He knew you hated it, but life weighed heavy on him sometimes.

"Rafe? What could you possibly need at this hour?" you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. But your annoyance faded as you caught the sound of heavy breathing.

Maybe he was hurt. Maybe he needed you.

And in a way, he did.

"Please," Rafe said, "I just want to hear your voice."

"Rafe, I'm trying to sleep. I don't want to do this right now. I have to get up early and go to work tomorrow, and—"

"Come on, babe. I've been waiting all night."

He wasn't asking anymore. You could tell by the tone of his voice, the way his breathing was starting to deepen.

You paused, debating whether you should just hang up and try to go back to sleep. But the longer you thought about it, the more the idea excited you.

You hadn't seen Rafe in a while, not since his parents kicked him out. You were the one who had talked to him most recently, the one who had been there for him.

"Fine," you said, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, "But only if you tell me what you're wearing."

You heard the rustling of fabric.

"Black briefs and a white t-shirt. You?"

"An oversized band tee with a pair of black panties."

You heard him exhale, the sound making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"Are you touching yourself yet?" he asked, his voice thick.

"No. Are you?"

"Just getting started." He said letting out a low groan.

You bit your lip. He had never sounded so sexy.

"Do it again."

He let out a shaky breath, followed by a soft groan.

"I wish it was your hand. Your lips."

"Tell me what you would do if I were there."

"I'd kiss every inch of you."

"And what else would you do?"

"I'd run my fingers through your hair, tug it just hard enough to make you moan."

Your eyes closed. Your own heartbeat quickened. You were picturing him, lying in his bed, his hand inside his briefs, his hair a mess from running his fingers through it.

You felt heat rise in your cheeks.

"And then what?"

"Then, I'd kiss your neck. I'd bite and suck and lick. I'd leave hickeys. I'd mark you as mine."

His voice was rough, ragged. You could tell he was getting close.

"Keep going," you whispered, reaching down and slipping your hand into your panties. You were already wet.

"And then, I'd take off your shirt, and I'd kneel between your legs. I'd take off your pants and kiss every part of you, your stomach, your thighs. I'd put my mouth on you, feel your hands in my hair. And then, I'd eat you out."

His voice was deep, gravelly, and his words sent shivers up your spine.

"Mmh... Rafe," you moaned.

"That's it, baby, get yourself all ready for me," Rafe rasped. You could hear him fumbling with something, and then a soft hissing noise, and then—

"Fuck..." Rafe hissed.

He was pumping himself, and you could hear every stroke over the phone.

You gasped softly as you circled your clit, picturing his gorgeous cock. You could imagine him sprawled out on his bed, his eyes fluttering closed.

"That's my good girl, keep playing with that pretty pussy," Rafe muttered, his voice low.

You were getting off on his words alone, and the slick sounds of him stroking his dick.

"Now slide a finger inside. That's what I'd be doing, baby, sliding into your hot cunt. I want to hear you," Rafe growled, his breath hitching as he pumped his cock.

You slid a finger inside, moaning softly as you began to imagine Rafe was there with you, his hand between your thighs, his eyes burning into yours.

"Good girl. I want you to cum for me, sweetheart. Let me hear how good it feels," Rafe said, his voice strained.

You cried out as you rubbed your clit faster, pushing a second finger inside. "Rafe, fuck, it's so good. I wish it was you."

"It's me, baby. I'm right there, fucking you with my fingers. You feel so tight, so wet around my hand."

"Keep talking."

"I'd slide two fingers inside you. I'd thrust them in and out, curl them inside you, make you cum. And then, after you've finished, I'd climb on top of you and fuck you until you can't walk."

You were rubbing yourself even faster now. His voice was like silk on your ears, his words like electricity on your skin.

"Oh God, Rafe," you breathed.

"Come for me, baby."

You arched your back, gasping and moaning. You were so close. "Oh, god, Rafe"

“Let go for me, sweetheart," Rafe said, his words muffled.

The tension broke, and you came hard, crying out his name.

"Fuck, yes, I'm coming too, baby," Rafe moaned, and you heard him spurt onto his stomach, his chest. You imagined the look of pleasure on his face as he stroked himself through his orgasm.

You both lay in silence for a few minutes, catching your breath.

"So, uh... What was that all about?" you asked, still a little dazed.

"Just wanted to hear your voice. You sounded so beautiful when you came," Rafe murmured.

You couldn't help but smile. "Well, maybe next time, we can meet up and you can hear it in person."

"Mm, I'd like that."

[wrldfilms]

sarah cameron p!links ౨ৎ !! 18+ only.

eating out sarah while shes playing video games.

sarah x kie x reader .

scissoring.

sarah fingering you.

sarah riding your face.

making out during a sleepover.

soft dom sarah.

sleepover with kie and sarah.

sarah fingering you after she sees you flirting with another girl.

boob obsessed .

kisses >.<.

john b recording sarah and reader.

authors note: hope you like these <3 !! jj or kie is next >.< also please send me some requests, i would love to know what you guys would like to see more of !

⠀ ⠀ `· . 𐙚

[hotchmoach]

You’re So Sweet A.H

In which Aaron Hotchner discovers you've never had an orgasm, and he’s determined to be the one to change that. What starts as teasing and slow, reverent touches turns into a lesson in patience and pleasure, with Aaron guiding you right to the edge—only to pull you back until you’re desperate for him. But when he finally gives in, it’s not just about satisfaction, it’s about proving that no one else will ever make you feel the way he does.

18 + Only MDNI = May I had this my first Soft smut , I don’t write smut ..

Parings: Soft/control Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Content: Explicit, Readers First orgasm, intimate details, pleasure,

Warnings: Explicit, Hotch helps reader with her first ever orgasm is so sweet he calls reader sweetheart , no use of your name . Starts with kisses all over you in fingers in you

WC: 1.k

Author notes : I’m still in denial that I wrote this but I hope you enjoy it I liked writing it . I kicked my feet in giggled all the way through please let me know if I missed anything because this is my first SMUT OKAY PLEASE BE KIND THANK YOU … sorry it got so long I was having fun .

I beg you please be kind

Most my photos are found on Pinterest

Laughter fills the dimly lit bedroom as you squirm beneath Aaron, breathless and flushed. It started as playful teasing—his hands tickling your sides, your weak attempts to push him away—but somehow, one shift, one moment later, and he’s on top of you, pinning your wrists gently against the mattress.

Your laughter fades, replaced by something heavier, something unspoken. His dark eyes search yours, amusement giving way to something softer, more intense. His weight presses into you, solid and warm, and your heart aches with the need for more.

You know where this is going. You want it. You want him.

Aaron swallows, his grip loosening as his thumb brushes over your pulse, feeling how wildly it races.

"You okay?" he murmurs, voice careful, quiet.

You nod, fingers slipping from his hold to tangle in his hair, pulling him just a little closer.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

His lips part, a quiet exhale leaving him as if the words alone undo him.

He leans in slowly, his nose brushing yours, his lips barely grazing—hesitating, waiting.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he says softly, his hand slipping to your waist, grounding you.

You shake your head.

"I want this. I want you."

Something in him shifts—something reverent. His lips find yours, slow and unhurried, savoring, as if he has all the time in the world.

But he doesn’t stop there. He moves lower, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another along your jaw.

His breath is warm against your skin as he trails down, the scruff of his jaw scraping gently over your throat before he presses his lips there, open-mouthed, reverent.

He follows the curve of your collarbone, his hands smoothing over your sides, fingertips gliding like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

He kisses lower, slow and deliberate, the heat of his mouth ghosting over your ribs, your stomach. He takes his time, as if worshiping you with every press of his lips, every teasing graze of his teeth.

But just as pleasure starts to coil deep in your belly, he hesitates. His hands still against your hips, his lips hovering just above your skin.

"Tell me something," he murmurs, his voice low, careful. "Have you ever…?" The words are unfinished, but you know exactly what he’s asking.

Your breath catches. A slow shake of your head. "Not once."

His lips part, his grip on you tightening just slightly. "You’ve never had an orgasm?"

Another shake of your head. "Never."

Aaron exhales sharply, like the thought alone is unbearable. His hands smooth over your hips, steadying you, grounding himself. His jaw flexes, his dark eyes flickering with something deeper—something possessive.

"You should’ve told me," he says, his voice rough, almost pained. "I want to be the one, sweetheart. I will be the one."

You tremble beneath him, overwhelmed by the weight of his words, the weight of him. Your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate.

"Please, Aaron," you whisper, voice breaking with need. "Please…"

A quiet groan rumbles in his chest, his restraint snapping as he presses another kiss just below your navel, slower this time, his lips lingering, teasing.

You reach for him, your hands slipping into his hair, tugging lightly until he looks up at you. His eyes meet yours, dark and unreadable, and something in your gaze makes his breath catch.

"Please," you whisper again, softer this time. "I need you, Aaron."

And that’s when he sees it. This isn’t just desire, isn’t just want—it’s need. It’s written all over your face, in the way you look at him, in the way your body responds to his touch. You aren’t just asking for this. You need this.

His chest rises and falls with a shaky breath. "I’ve got you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss just below your ribs, his hands gripping your hips like an anchor. "I promise, sweetheart. I’ve got you."

His lips move lower, teasing, mapping out every inch of your skin, until his fingers follow—soft at first, teasing along your inner thigh, ghosting over the heat of you before pressing in just enough to make your breath hitch.

He watches you, taking in every reaction, memorizing what makes you shudder, what makes your body arch toward him. And when he finally pushes two fingers inside you, slow and deliberate, your gasp is enough to make him groan against your skin.

His touch is patient, purposeful, searching—until he finds it. The spot that makes your breath stutter, that makes your fingers clutch at the sheets. A wicked smile ghosts over his lips.

"There," he murmurs, pressing into it again, dragging his fingers in a way that has your thighs trembling. "That’s it, sweetheart."

Your breath stutters, your fingers twisting into the sheets as Aaron works you open with slow, deliberate strokes. His dark eyes never leave your face, studying every gasp, every arch of your back, every tiny shiver that runs through you.

"That’s it," he murmurs, his voice low, reverent. "Let me take care of you."

His fingers move in a steady rhythm, coaxing, teasing, drawing you closer to something you’ve never quite reached before.

His free hand slides up, splaying over your stomach, grounding you as your body reacts to him. He watches, entranced, as your hips start to move, chasing the pleasure he’s giving you.

"You feel so good," he whispers, pressing his lips to your thigh, his breath warm against your sensitive skin. "So perfect."

A soft whimper escapes you, your hands reaching for him, needing more. Needing him. He groans at the sound, at the way you say his name like a plea.

"Patience, sweetheart," he soothes, but there’s a roughness to his voice now, his own restraint slipping. "I want this to last. I want to feel you fall apart for me."

His fingers curl, pressing into that perfect spot again, and your body jolts at the sensation.

His name spills from your lips, desperate, needy, and his answering growl vibrates against your skin.

"Aaron—"

"I know," he breathes, his movements picking up just slightly, his thumb brushing over your most sensitive spot in a way that makes your entire body tense. "You’re so close, aren’t you?"

You nod frantically, your breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. It’s building, that unfamiliar, unbearable pressure, coiling tighter and tighter inside you. Your body is trembling, your grip on him unrelenting. You’re right there.

And then—he stops.

A desperate cry leaves your lips as he pulls his fingers from you, his touch vanishing entirely.

Your body clenches around nothing, the pleasure slipping from your grasp as frustration crashes over you.

Aaron shushes you softly, his hands stroking over your thighs, your waist, soothing even as he denies you. His lips press against your skin, soft and reverent, as if apologizing for the torment.

"Not yet," he murmurs against your hip, his voice dark with something that makes your stomach tighten all over again. "Not until it’s me. Not until I feel you come undone around me."

Your breath is shaky, your body still trembling from the loss of it. Your lips part, ready to protest, to beg, but he’s already moving—pressing up over you, his body aligning with yours, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that steals the very breath from your lungs.

"You trust me?" he asks, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours.

"Yes," you whisper, no hesitation.

A slow, wicked smile curves his lips. "Then let me give you what you need."

And as he finally, finally gives you exactly that, you realize—he was right. This isn’t just want. This is need.

We reached 300 notes on my first smut 😢😢😢 thank you guys :( that means a lot

@ssamorganhotchner @ssaaaronmontgomery @hotchs-big-hands @kiwriteswords @hoe4hotchner @hoe4hotchnerlibrary

[reunitedinterlude]

phake phan

[soupevil]

theese escaped containment from where I originally posted them so heres whatever this is. season 1 mepad yay👍👍👍

[felassan]

"If you don't romance characters in Dragon Age: The Veilguard, they'll find other partners for themselves

"Some characters may be a little more steamy..."

---

"Dragon Age: The Veilguard features a far more fleshed out romance and relationship system than in previous BioWare games, the developer has told Eurogamer - including the ability for party members to go off and find their own love interests, should you not be interested yourself. Speaking to Eurogamer's deputy editor Chris Tapsell at an event in LA this week, The Veilguard's creative director John Epler revealed more of the game's relationship system. "In Dragon Age games, BioWare games, romance is a core part," Epler said. "We wanted to give each character their own flavour, or their own style, of romance. So some characters may be a little more steamy while some characters maybe a little bit more innocent. But for each one, you can build these relationships. "And what's interesting in this game is, if you don't romance characters, they may decide to find their own romances for themselves, whether within the team or within the world itself." It's reminiscent somewhat of how Shepard could walk in on Garrus and Tali locked in a kiss towards the end of Mass Effect 3 - but only if you had chosen not to show romantic interest in either one beforehand. What sounds like another improvement from previous BioWare games is how a character's romance arc will be better woven into their own personal story arc, and their involvement with The Veilguard's core questline. BioWare has also worked to ensure that getting to know your characters as friends feels just as satisfying - and that just because you're not banging your buddy, their (platonic) relationship with you will still continue. "One of the things we tried to do with The Veilguard is it's not just romantic relationship building," Epler continued. "You need to get to know a person before you can really build that kind of relationship with them, and if you choose not to build a [romantic] relationship, we never want to feel like you're being cut off. There's no 'okay, well, their arc isn't progressing, I'm done'. "We want to make sure the non-romantic relationships are deep as well, with friendships not just for companions and yourself, but also between companions across the party." For much more on Dragon Age: The Veilguard, be sure to read Eurogamer's full preview of the game's opening hour, as well as much more from Epler on lessons learned for BioWare's present - and future."

[source]

[thesunsethour]

please if you reblog tag with your country because this fascinates me

[daily-leon]

Here Leon. (Hands you Ashley, Luis, and Ada) Have a nice day !

Oh boy

[orionshounds]

I love the floor, I just want to see more of the floor

[itadooori]

hobo era gi-hun my beloved