#female

[supremefleadon]

[hellanabelle]

I don’t know why I feel like I’m already behind.

I’m eighteen. That’s supposed to mean beginning.

But it feels like everything already started

and no one told me.

I watch people choosing.

Cities. Partners. Futures. Words.

And I stand there, quiet.

Not frozen just unsure which noise is mine.

They say there’s time.

The older ones say it a lot.

Maybe they’re right.

But I live so high.

I feel so much,

I dream so loudly,

I put pressure on my own chest without even meaning to.

And sometimes, I really believe

that even if I had a full lifetime,

I still wouldn’t be able to do everything I long for.

Maybe I waited too long to want something loudly.

Maybe I wanted too many things in silence,

so none of them knew how to find me.

Everything feels slightly out of reach.

Like being in a room where the conversation just ended.

Too late to join.

Too early to leave.

There’s no drama in this.

Just… a hum.

Like a train that already left

and the station’s still warm.

[nerdysarcophaguschaos]

SENTATE x SERENITY to sims 3 !!! Love this collection

Serenity x Sentate Trinity Collection (Sims 3)

*my English is very bad*

All credits belong to Sentate & Serenity, I just added a complete repaint and redesigned them for other ages and reduced polygons.

Bella Jacket

Original Bella Jacket

Files are compressed

4 recolourable channels / 12 presets (WARNING)

3962 poly 2625 vertices

1024X textures

Teens to Adults (females)

Disable for random / only high lod

Available for maternity

Everyday, Formalwear, Athletic, Career, Outerwear

Custom thumbnails

(looks messy in CAS, but good in game)

♡ download / alt ♡

Gigi Shorts

Original Gigi Shorts

Files are compressed

4 recolourable channels / 3 presets

1643 poly 1136 vertices

1024X textures

Teens to Adults (females)

Disable for random / only high lod

Available for maternity

Everyday, Formalwear, Career

Custom thumbnails

♡ download / alt ♡

Hayley Dress

Original HayleyDress

Files are compressed

4 recolourable channels / 3 presets

4630 poly 2984 vertices

1024X textures

Teens to Adults (females)

Disable for random / only high lod

Available for maternity

Everyday, Formalwear, Career

Custom thumbnails

♡ download / alt ♡

to be continued…

I've been working on the same collection for too long, so I thought I'd share what's definitely ready. Give me some hearts please, I'm so tired...

Of course don't forget to report problems and have a good day ♡

[jaeseungiie]

Heyyy girlllll, I was thinking for hoon and fem reader, where he waited until she's ready and she's ready to give up her V card to him the night he proposed to her after 4 yrs of dating, ,maybe you could write him taking her V card, her first time I think it would be so cute ����

I got a lot of hoon requests but this is a good concept!!!!

Tags: V card losing, riding, head/face sitting(fem receive). Cream pies. Name calling/ pet names.

Not entirely proof read!!! might make edits laterrr

The room is filled with intimate sounds. Wet, sloppy noises and moaning. You ride Sunghoons face loving the way he licks your clit, circling his tongue on it. Fuck.. you could do this all night. His hands gripping your tits, fondling your nippled with his fingers. You, facing towards his hard cock.

He licks your clit one more time before plunging his tongue in your hole. It was a nice, wet and warm sensation. Getting eaten out by your now fiancée was the best decision you could ever agree on. Four years of no sex with him leading up to this moment. To die for.

“fuck..” you whimper out. The feeling of his tongue licking your wet cunt was so good. He puts his hands on your hips and pulls his face away. “mmm that sweet sweet pussy is all i need.”

You get off of his face and turn around, now straddling him. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and bend down to kiss him, pulling him into a deep kiss. You could taste your own pussy with his mouth and you loved it. He kisses back with passion, basically eating your face and sucking on your bottom lip. The two of you have had makeout sessions before but it didn’t feel as good as this one.

You pull away from the kiss and get up, basically squatting over his hard cock. You grab it and rub the tip around your pussy before putting it deep into your hole. Your first cock, it felt way better than what you expected. You bounce up and down, tits bouncing and cock bottoming out each bounce.

“Fuck… you dirty little slut riding my cock so good”. He whimpers and grabs your tits once again fondling both nipples with his thumb snd pointer finger. You bounce up and down faster and faster feeling his cock scraping your insides, taking your virginity away from you.

Sunghoons cock was so good, a perfect match for your cunt. You could feel his tip touch your womb every time the whole cock went in. All you would be able to think about for the next month is his big cock impaling your pussy.

Sunghoons mouth opens and his eyes roll back, the pleasure taking over his whole being. He lets out a moan that makes you ride faster and harder wanting to suck all of the cum out of his dick. He lets out another moan and your pussy starts being filled with warm cum. You moan at the sensation.

Cum fills your entire cunt until it leaks out. The feeling is too good. You keep his cock in your pussy, making sure to keep his sperm swimming inside of you.

I hope you enjoyed reading this!!!!!

For anonymous requester: I hope you’re satisfied with what I wrote!! Please leave feedback and tell me what to do better if you didn’t like it.

Written by: @jaeseungiie on Tumblr

[fawning4uu]

gravity, again

pairing ⭑.ᐟ charles leclerc x reader

warnings — angst, emotional cheating, regret, heartbreak, mature themes, quiet yearning, strained loyalties.

word count : 2k

a/n : half of the fic is inspired by Sabrina Carpenter's song "Don't Smile," as i’ve been obsessed with it lately. i’m still contemplating whether I should make the ending happy or not. but anyway, here’s part 3. enjoy! 🫶

part 1, part 2

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

It’s been thirty-one days since the café.

Not that you’re counting. Not that you wrote it down or replayed it a thousand times. Not that you still sit awake some nights with the memory of his voice under your skin, saying your name like it was still his to hold.

You haven’t heard from him since.

No messages. No calls. Just… silence. The kind that settles into your bones like a second skin.

And still—he lingers.

You see him in quiet moments. The back of a stranger’s neck in a grocery queue. A crooked smile across a street. His name whispered in commentary on television, and your body tenses before your mind can tell it not to.

You wonder if he’s still with her. You wonder if she knows that he once told you he loved you with a mouth still swollen from kissing someone else.

You wonder if she ever asks where he disappears to when the Monaco night grows too quiet.

You wonder if he lies.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You’re in Paris again now.

A client meeting pulls you back. Back to the noise, the slow drip of summer winding down, the sharp pull of Rue de Buci where the memory of his hand on yours still sits heavy.

You shouldn’t be here.

You tell yourself you won’t linger.

But then your brother texts.

“Café tomorrow? Usual spot. 9am. Don’t be late this time.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The morning is pale blue. Cool enough that you wear long sleeves, even though you know they won’t help.

Your heart stutters the moment you turn onto the street. The café’s outdoor tables are already half full, the usual hum of soft chatter and clinking cups.

And there he is.

Of course he’s here.

Charles, seated across from your brother like it’s any other Thursday. Like he didn’t break you apart piece by piece with his silence. Like he doesn’t still live under your skin. His sunglasses are pushed into his curls, a black t-shirt clinging to him like it wants to make you hurt.

He looks up as you approach.

And the second your eyes meet, your body betrays you. Something inside you slips loose.

“Morning,” your brother says, sipping his coffee, oblivious or pretending to be. “Finally decided to show up on time.”

Charles says nothing.

You slide into the seat beside him. Carefully. Like distance still matters.

He smells the same. Clean, warm, ruinous.

You don’t look at him again. You don’t have to.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The conversation is stilted. Your brother fills the space with small talk. Racing, transfers, some story about their childhood that doesn’t land. You nod where appropriate. Sip your drink slowly.

And the entire time, you feel Charles watching you.

But you don’t look. You can’t.

Because if you meet his gaze, you’ll see it.

The same thing you saw in the café. That unbearable sadness.

That longing neither of you can name without falling apart.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Your brother excuses himself twenty minutes in, grumbling about a call. Leaves his phone and keys on the table like proof he’ll be back.

And then—it’s just the two of you.

You feel the air shift the second he’s gone.

Charles clears his throat. You hear it in your spine. “I didn’t think you’d come,” he says quietly.

You don’t answer right away. Then, “I didn’t know you were coming.” It’s cruel. You know that. But cruelty is the only armor you have left.

He nods, like he deserves it. “I tried not to come,” he admits.

You glance at him then, finally. “But you did.”

A long pause. Then, “How are you?”

The question is soft. Familiar. You hate it.

You scoff under your breath. “You don’t get to ask that.” He doesn’t fight it.

You want to scream at him. You want to ask why he left. Why he let a month pass like you didn’t exist. Why he keeps coming back only to hurt you in a new way each time.

But instead, you whisper, “Is she still in the picture?”

He doesn’t lie. “Yes.”

Your throat burns.

“Does she know?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

He looks at you like he’s unraveling. “No.”

A beat of silence stretches between you. Weighted. Hot.

Then he leans in, elbows on the table, eyes searching yours. “I haven’t touched her.”

You freeze.

He keeps going. “I can’t,” he says, voice barely a rasp. “It’s always you.”

You hate how your heart stumbles. You hate how much you want that to mean something.

“You still chose her,” you whisper.

“No.” He shakes his head, slowly, like he’s breaking apart. “I chose nothing. And that was the worst thing I could’ve done.”

You look at him then—really look.

He’s tired.

Not in the way that shows on the surface. But in the way his mouth sits, always half-swallowed by regret. In the way his hands fidget when he talks to you. Like he’s trying not to reach for something that’s already slipping away.

And god, you want to reach back.

But you remember the last time. And the time before that. And all the little ways he let you bleed without so much as looking down.

You shake your head. “Don’t do this again.”

He blinks. “Do what?”

“Make me hope.”

Your brother returns before he can answer.

He looks between the two of you—too quiet now, too still—and something in his jaw hardens. Later, when Charles gets up to ‘take’ a call, your brother leans in.

His voice is careful. Low.

“Don’t.”

You stare at him. He doesn’t elaborate. Doesn’t need to.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you lie.

He nods, but the tightness in his expression doesn’t ease. He finishes his coffee. Sets the cup down. Doesn’t look at you when he adds, “He’s not the man you want him to be.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You don’t say goodbye. To either of them.

You walk away from the café with shaking hands and tears that sting without falling.

Charles doesn’t follow you. But you feel him still.

Like gravity. Like guilt. Like the kind of love that was never built to survive the sunlight.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

He ends it on a Tuesday.

Not because that day means anything. Not because it’s poetic or fitting or even right. He just wakes up beside her and realizes — for the hundredth time — that he’s pretending.

That he’s been pretending. That no matter how many times he tells himself this is easier, that safe is enough, the truth still sits under his skin like a burn: he doesn’t love her.

He never did.

She’s sweet. Beautiful. Smiles at him like she believes in a version of him he hasn’t been in months. He’s grateful for her. And maybe that’s worse — because the guilt of it festers, sharp and quiet.

So when she asks if he’s okay, he says no.

And when she asks if it’s someone else, he doesn’t lie. She doesn’t scream. Doesn’t cry.

She just looks at him with those wide, wounded eyes and says, “Is it her?”

He doesn’t say your name. He doesn’t have to.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The apartment is too quiet after she leaves.

He doesn’t move for an hour. Just sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, breathing like it hurts.

Because it does. Because everything does.

Because all this time, he’s been holding on to the idea of you — and now, suddenly, he’s out of excuses.

You know. You always knew.

He has no more reasons not to try.

So he gets in the car. And drives.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You don’t expect him. Not tonight. Not after a month of silence, then a café full of words you both shouldn’t have said.

You’re on the couch when the buzzer rings.

Feet up. Hair still damp from a shower. A half-finished movie playing quietly in the background. You think it’s a mistake. Some drunk tourist. A neighbor.

But then the intercom crackles with one word:

“Me.”

And suddenly, you can’t breathe.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

He’s standing in your hallway less than a minute later. Rain slicks his curls to his forehead. His grey hoodie is soaked through. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

You don’t speak. Neither does he.

You don’t even step aside.

You just stand there, staring.

Until finally, he says, “I ended it.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You let him in, of course you do.

Because you’ve spent months trying to hate him, and none of it ever stuck.

He stands in the middle of your apartment like he doesn’t belong there. Like he’s waiting for you to change your mind and send him back out into the rain.

You cross your arms. You don’t make this easy.

“What do you want from me, Charles?”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“You.”

But you don’t let it shake you. “Too late.”

“No,” he says. Steps forward. “It’s not.”

“You think you can just show up after everything and say you want me and that makes it okay?”

“I’m not asking for okay. I’m asking for honest.”

He swallows hard. “I fucked up. Over and over. I hurt you. I left you. I lied. I was a coward. But I never — not once — stopped loving you.”

Your voice is quieter now. Shaking. “Then why didn’t you stay?”

He’s close now. Too close. “I thought leaving would protect you.”

“That’s the thing about you, Charles,” you say, eyes brimming. “You always think you know what’s best. But you don’t ask. You just choose.”

He exhales sharply. “I’m asking now.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The silence between you crackles. You both know what this is. Not a reunion. Not yet. Just a wound being opened.

Again.

And again.

And again.

He steps closer. You don’t move.

“If I kissed you right now,” he says, voice hoarse, “would you stop me?”

You don’t answer. So, he takes that as his answer.

His hands cup your jaw gently. Like he’s afraid you’ll break. Like you haven’t already.

His lips brush yours.

And the second you give in, it’s over.

You’re pulling him in like a firestorm. Kissing him with every ounce of anger and grief and love you still can’t shake. Your hands fist in his hoodie. His mouth is frantic. Desperate. Familiar.

You stumble backwards into the wall, the door slamming shut behind you.

You don’t remember how your clothes come off. Don’t remember how you end up in your bed. You only remember his hands, his mouth, the way he whispers your name like a prayer as he slides into you and the world narrows to just this.

Just him.

Just you.

Just the unbearable relief of feeling whole for the first time in months. And the ache of knowing it won’t fix anything.

Not really.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

After, he lies beside you. One hand in your hair.

One arm wrapped tight around your waist. His breathing is shaky. Your skin still hums.

And neither of you speak. Because this isn’t peace. This is aftermath.

This is what happens when something breaks and you keep picking up the pieces with your bare hands.

You whisper, “You think this means anything?”

He nods. “It means everything.”

You look at him. “Then make it.”

“Make what?”

“Make it worth what it cost me.”

And that’s the moment he realizes: You’re not asking him to stay the night. You’re asking him to stay this time.

For real. To face your brother. To face himself.

To undo the damage. To make it mean something.

He swallows. “I will.”

You want to believe him. God, you want to.

But you’ve heard that voice before.

You’ve heard it in hotel rooms, on balconies, between tangled sheets and early morning silences. You just wait, and hope.

And try not to drown in the way he still holds you like you’re a promise he’s not sure he deserves.

[mrjaydraws]

woah

who would i be if i didn't draw them as lesbians

[dark-art-666]

[ayan140]

I’m not your babysitter

🖤 Chapter 1: Drift

🖤 Chapter 2: Welcome to hell

🖤 Chapter 3: Heat, Mud, and Sharp Tounges

🖤 Chapter 4: Jungle Rules

🖤 Chapter 5: Close enough to burn

"She wasn't supposed to survive. She definitely wasn't supposed to follow them. And Zora Bennett? She doesn't do tagalongs... until her tagalong saves her life."

I’m writing a new story, making my own storyline from when the boat tips over (scene in jurrastic world rebirth)

Here’s a sneak peak 👀

Y/N  (19, long black hair, hazel eyes) is just trying to have a fun trip with her friend and her family. Their boat gets too close to a fog covered area. It crashes. Panic fills the air as the screaming of 5 people is heard. She wakes up alone on a humid shore surrounded by jungle.

Hours of wandering. A raptor screech. Suddenly — BOOM. Gunfire. Y/N screams as she ducks.

She stumbles into Zora Bennett and her mercenary-style Dino unit mid mission. Covered in blood and dirt.  Zora points a gun at her before yelling.

"Get behind me if you want to live."

At first, Zora wants to leave Y/N behind.

~she'll slow us down~

Zora hesitates.

But the others vote to bring her – especially when they realize she's seen something they're looking for.

Zora is cold. Blunt. Doesn't do "babysitting." Y/N is stubborn. Curious. Doesn't shut up. But she's also brave in a way Zora didn't expect.

And somewhere between velociraptor ambushes, sleeping in trees, and patching up each other's wounds... the tension builds.

It will come out in chapters, keep in mind the story isn’t finished.

[livingangelgrls]

turning cecilia soon ❦

[yourdailyqueer]

Khadi Don

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Lesbian

DOB: 4 April 1996

Ethnicity: African American

Occupation: Youtuber, comedian, actress

[moonlightfleurr]

staying up thinking abt the time i accidentally called him dad and he said it was okay with him.

[satosipeter]

[afallenwolf]

Old Predator Sketches

[rivercaptures]

Female Pachydiplax Longipennis aka Blue Dasher, Acworth GA, 2025

© 2025 River Captures

[lumonsog]

Adoptable - Furry cocker spaniel

Hello my friend! I have set up my auction for adoptable at this price:

Available on Furrafinity:

https://www.furaffinity.net/view/61437594/

✧SB - 30$

✧Mi - 5$

At bit of 45$ - back version.

At bit of 60$ - nsfw version

At a bit of 65$ - back nsfw version + nsfw version.

At a bid of 120$ - futanari version.

AB - 200$ + chibi version, character sheet(nsfw (futanari) version + nsfw back version, back version in the clothes, emotions), commercial purposes.

The auction will end 48 hours after the last bid.

Order fulfillment time varies from 3 days to a week.⚝