#please be kind

[bobowbeau]

“I’m a human police officer!”

Final painting after 24 hours!

[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

[enii]

🐻🌼🌻🦋💕

[behindfairytales]

“Do you know what Aes Sedai means in the old tongue? Servants of all. You're gonna be a woman who's actually worthy of the title.” — Nynaeve

THE WHEEL OF TIME SEASON 3 COUNTDOWN Day 1 — favorite character Madeleine Madden as Egwene al'Vere

[suspectedtrash]

Tired and losing motivation!

[crowleysgirl56]

The world is on fire. It’s been on fire for a while now. I have struggled severely for the last few years with attempting to find any happiness in anything. I’ve always loved Good Omens, but it become such a specific hyper focus since season 2 aired, and for once I found a tiny little space in the corner of the internet that I could consider my happy place. This fandom and everyone in it finally brought me a little happiness again. It is now on fire too. So yeah, I’m going to pull away for a little while.

To everyone who is randomly getting anonymous inbox messages from people screaming at you that you’re a terrible person because you like “that pedo David Tennant” (like I have been, I assume it’s the same random person targeting a bunch of people), I feel for you, I’m with you, I’m sending you my thoughts and love, I hope you can just ignore, delete, not engage and move on.

For those who are upset over everything that has occurred with the allegations against Neil Gaiman, you’re feelings are valid. You can separate the art from the artist. You can feel angry with him, sympathy for the victims, and sad that it could affect season 3. All things can be true at once.

So let’s remember a few things:

1) his actions are creepy at best and abhorrent at worst.

2) believing women means giving them the space and time to hear what they have to say, afford them empathy, and not dismiss them outright.

3) the court of public opinion is not the place to make judgment.

4) Boris Johnson’s sister, who is connected to TERF ideology, dropping a podcast the day before a significant general election may perhaps not be the best bastion of truth.

5) screaming at each other won’t solve anything. Please be kind.

So I’m going to take a step back for a bit, touch some grass, and hope the fires are slightly more under control when I get back.

[suzypfonne]

✨Chinchillaphale✨

[make-the-devil-cry]

coming out as a kevallison shipper

[thelightofthebane]

Malec Xmas

This is my first ever fanart!

I made it for the @malecdiscordserver 🩷

[enii]

Please be kind💕

[adharastarlight]

Happy Hide From The Marauders Fandom Day for those who celebrate!!!

[grape-jucie-dog]

Hey! Here's the "We'll Be Fine" cover I was talking about!

-cue me running away and immediately crashing into a wall-

[sapphicseasapphire]

… yeah.

Yeah, okay. I’m not okay. I feel so numb. I am exhausted. I feel like I have nothing to say.

I refuse to fall to this. I refuse to let myself be consumed. I’m opening emergency art requests. It can be anything. I can’t come up with a single creative idea and I think I need to do something. Send an ask with a prompt, I’ll see what I can do.

[magejamespage]

Chat. Comment down below if i should be kind to my fellow mages and share my jimmy page playlists?

these my covers if this is at all enticing to the masses

Edit: links have been added to mage page’s keeper logs!

[stayuntilthefoglifts]

Be somebody who makes everybody feel like a somebody.

Brad Montague