#if this is your ick just don’t click!

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Omg okay I got a comment saying I should write the team’s reaction to Roy x Jamie mating.

Tw! Alpha/beta/omega dynamics (non traditional??) ((if I understand the traditional correctly??))

-

When Jamie walked into the locker room he basically dances in. It had been a week since he has seen the guys. New mating and all that. There’s protocols in place that even he can admit are necessary.

Colin is drinking out of a bottle when he catches sight of Jamie. He chokes. Isaac turns and smacks him on the back. The room goes quiet.

It’s Dani who speaks first. “Jamie! You’ve got a bite! Who do we get to threaten!”

Jamie laughs. He rubs a hand over the bite. “No one guys. He’s great. Don’t want any threats thrown his way.”

Colin stares at Jamie. “He?”

“Yeah mate figured you would’ve figured that out by now.”

Colin pulls Jamie into a hug. The smaller alpha always smells nice. “Mate I knew about a crush you have but this is a whole different level.” Jamie returns the hug. Suddenly he’s surrounded by the guys.

He’s passed from one hug to another. Almost everyone brushes a scent mark over his arm. A casual friend way to mark.

Jamie hears Roy come in. They’re still questioning him so thoroughly that he doesn’t really pay his mate any extra attention then a smile and wave. He gets a smile in return.

“How big is his cock!”

There’s a smack and Roy’s ears go a bit red.

Sam makes a sound of realization.

Jamie points at him. “No don’t.” Jamie smiles the entire time to make sure Sam knows it’s okay to say it.

Sam hops up on the bench and claps his hands. The beta always did have a flair for drama. “I know who Jamie’s mate is!”

There’s a commotion from everyone. They all turn to look at Sam.

Jamie takes the opportunity to slip back to Roy. He knows where this is going.

“Jamie Tartt. You mated…”

“Come on hurry up we wanna throw them a party!”

“Yeah! We gotta threaten him!”

“Drum roll please!”

The guys of course do it. Sam claps his hands together again and points.

“Roy Kent!”

Everyone’s heads whip around. They’re all staring at Roy and Jamie holding hands. The fresh bites on both of their necks.

The noise erupts around them. Cheers and money gets passed back and forth. They refuse to train on the bias that they have to throw a party and need time to plan.

Everyone races off to gather things. Isaac sticks behind with Dani. He points at Roy. “Don’t gotta say don’t hurt him do I?” Dani nods. “He was ours first. He always will have our support.”

Roy gives a small smile. “No worries. I’ll take care of him as long as he’ll let me. Forever is my plan.”

Jamie bounces up and presses a kiss to Roy’s cheek. “Also Keeley beat the rest of you alpha’s to the threats! Didn’t know she was so creative!”

Will and Jan Maas nod from where they’re leaned. The two omegas know that Jamie can take care of himself. They saw him fuck people up. Know what he’s capable of. But also know Roy let Jamie bite him. It might be 2023 but a lot of alphas don’t let omegas bite them for tradition sake.

They know it’ll be fine. They could tell it was meant to be.

-

Beard leans against the door and waits until everyone has left. He catches the only two still there. “Sign these.”

Roy blinks at him. “How did you fucking make these so fast?” Beard shakes his head. “I already had them obviously.” Jamie stares at him. “You’re fucking with us.” “Nope. Sign here.”

They sign.

Beard snaps the folder closed. “Great! Now you’re fully legal at the club. Says the relationship was not a power play. Y’all are good now. But expect an insane mating gift from Jane and I.”

He turns and walks away.

Jamie leans against Roy and tucks his head under his chin. “Think they’ll give us sex things?” Roy shudders. “Fuck I hope not. I think Jane would go a bit farther then either of us want.”

“You’re an incredible mate. Love you Roy.”

Roy grins down at Jamie. It’s only a smile he sees. “So are you. Love you more baby.”

They walk out holding hands.

They’re always going to hold hands.

—

“Roy can I please post an Instagram to tell the world? Pleasseeee.” - “Goddamn it fine but use one where we’ve got clothes on.” - “Whoops! Too late!” - “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” - “oh please do. Do the thing with your tongue!”- “this thing?”

—

It quickly becomes one of the most liked photos. They give an exclusive interview with Trent. Said they wouldn’t talk to anyone else. He knows the limits. He truly wouldn’t dare to ask about kids. Knows how the two of them work.

—

The marriage is a highly photographed event. People absolutely love that Jamie wore white while Roy wore all black. Their guests in a rainbow of colors. It’s one of the most talked about events that year.

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #if this is your ick just don’t click! #alpha/beta/omega verse #jamie x roy #royjamie #roy x jamie #roy kent x jamie tartt #dani rojas #colin hughes #sam obisanya #coach beard

[tyunphoria]

🌪️not in my movie ! — b.chan

- - - - -

⚠️NSFW CONTENT!⚠️

- - - - -

ghostface!bang chan x reader

SYNPNOSIS: just a fun game of cat and mouse till you fall in the lion’s den.

INCLUDES: AFAB reader, college!au, pet names, praise, ANGST and SMUTTT. Finding out he’s ghostface gee what a shocker, not proof read, rushed:p chan’s hella manipulative if you squint.

WARNINGS: threatening, mentions of death and murders, blood, slight degradation, fear play, slight dacryphilia, DOM!chan, p in v, oral (giving), fingering, hair pulling, uh tw just to make sure: non con that turns consensual, semi public not rlly?, UNPROTECTED SEX, mentions of vomiting.

[click here to read ghostface!hanjisung x reader.]

w.c: 4.5k

The leaves were ablaze with autumn hue as y/n walked across the quad of her college campus. She breathed in the crisp autumn air, savouring the hint of bonfire smoke that indicated the fair was being set up. Y/n loved this time of the year. Students milled about between classes, backpacks slung over shoulders, coffee cups warming hands. Some douchebags would even take the liberty to scare their peers and professors while clad in a black robe and a ghostface mask.

Speaking of, your senior Chan just fell victim to one of the pranks and it was hilarious how you got to witness it first hand.

“I hate Halloween…” Chan grumbled as he fell into step beside you.

Your body buzzed with laughter as you handed him the book that slipped from his grasp. “Are you going to that fair tonight?” You ask. Chan makes an expression you couldn’t read, akin to contemplation tinged with mild distaste at the idea. You knew him well enough to read the thoughts flitting across his face — he was tempted by the promise of candy apples and haunted houses but also felt the pull of responsibility to study for his upcoming exam.

“Oh come on, Christopher.” You roll your eyes, “a few hours of fun won’t kill you.”

“Hard pass.” He said. He wasn’t one to back down to these types of things but he claimed that there was something about Halloween which gave him the ‘ick’. “And it’s not just that… Changbin lost a bet so now he’s gonna have to wear a playboy bunny costume to the fair. Think I wanna see that?” You laugh and shake your head, bidding him goodbye as you turn to enter your apartment until Chan stopped you once more by grabbing ahold of your arm.

“Y/n,” he says, his voice stern. “I’m being serious this time. Just… how about you just don’t go? It’s dangerous, especially how late it is at night. Who knows… maybe ghostface himself would show up uninvited.”

His warning sent goosebumps to rise on your skin, making the hair on your nape stand. You mask it with a light scoff. “Really, Chris? When are you gonna drop this ghostface shit. Dude’s been M.I.A for years, I think I’ll be fine.”

You try to pull away but his grip around your wrist tightens before you find yourself being pulled against his chest, hands holding your waist in place as he buries his face against your neck. “Be careful out there, yeah?”

Your hard gaze softens. “I will.”

- - - - -

“Y/n!” Felix beams as he captures you in a tight embrace.

“Jesus Christ, lix.” You gently pull away from the hug to examine his costume. “Elsa?”

“It’s cute, no?” He pouts. “Aya’s over there by the dart booth.” You nod at him gratefully, giving him one last hug before making your way to Aya.

“Hey bitch!” You grin. Aya bounces over to you, planting a kiss on your cheek, staining your skin with the bright red lipstick she wore.

“You wore the costume I bought you, let me see,” she twirls you around. “Hot, hot, okay, but babes that jacket has gotta go.”

“It’s cold!” You protest. “And my tits are practically out.”

Aya sighed in exasperation. “Halloween is the one year where a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.” She quotes.

The fair was packed with hordes of costumed attendees, mostly college students from nearby universities. Your eyes widened as she took in the revealing outfits on display - girls in lingerie masquerading as "sexy cat" costumes, shirtless guys with lampshades on their heads.

"Is that chick only wearing a bra and a fucking g-string?" You murmured to Aya, who stood beside you nibbling on candy corn from a paper bag.

Aya followed her gaze to a scantily clad brunette in the distance. "Looks like it," she snorted.

"Thank god there are no kids around here tonight."

You said, finding the lack of children odd. Usually by 8pm, the fair would be swarming with kids getting high off of cotton candy and running around wildly.

"Yeah, the government placed a curfew," Aya explained after popping a few gummy worms into her mouth. "Didn't you hear?"

"A curfew? No, why?" You felt unease curl in your stomach. The last curfew had been years ago, when a killer in a mask murdered a group of teens.

Aya lowered her voice. "It's all over the news. Two days ago someone broke into this girl's house downtown. And then a bunch of people were found dead behind the HYBE office building."

Your brows furrowed. There's no way it could be Ghostface again, right? That killer had been caught years ago.

Chris’s words from this morning suddenly plagued your mind and it bothered you.

A theory was circulating online that there was more than one Ghostface. That a group of obsessed fans had taken up the killer mantle. Those amateur reddit detectives were digging far deeper than the useless ass police.

What if Chan had been right? Unease bloomed in your chest as you glanced around the fair.

Aya takes notes of her expression, attempting to lighten the mood by shoving some cotton candy in your mouth.

“Stop worrying. Let’s go ride the roller coaster and eat candy till we fucking barf!”

- - - - -

“Oh, fuck me, I’m gonna—“ Aya bends over the railing and hurled.

Your cheeks tint in embarrassment, an awkward smile on your lips as you pat her back, trying to ignore the disgusted looks both of you were receiving.

“Bitch you gotta go on without me,” she slumps against a nearby bench, chugging down a can of beer to wash off the vile taste.

“What!” You frown, “but the haunted house, you promised!” You tugged on her arm but she doesn’t budge. “Tsk, fine, I’ll go without you then.”

They built a new attraction that the place has been working on for years but it just now opened up today. It was a big haunted mansion. You wondered why it took so long for them to open it up, but you found out not too long ago that they didn’t hire any scare actors for this attraction, they were all animatronics.

You see your friend by the entrance, collecting tickets and admitting people in.

"Hyunjin!" you exclaimed, a wide smile lighting up your face as you spotted your friend stationed at the entrance, diligently collecting tickets and admitting people in. "I didn’t know your ass worked here."

The blond returned your smile and motioned for three more people to enter before making his way over to you. "Yeah, I actually wanted to take today off, but they were in desperate need of extra staff. I was looking forward to spending the night with my girlfriend too." he replied with a small sigh. "Surprisingly, it's even more crowded than last year. You'd think people would stay home, given the murder incident that happened at HYBE."

You crossed your arms. You really didn’t wanna think about that right now. casting a quick glance down at your heels, momentarily distracted by the discomfort throbbing in your feet. "I shouldn't have worn these," you gesture to your heels.

Something crossed Hyunjin’s face as his expression went blank. “It’s gonna bitch to run in those if that fucker catches you.”

You gape at him. Who the fuck says something like that so casually?

“Sorry,” Hyunjin chuckled. “It’s part of my script.” Oh right… yeah, of course, it being halloween and him working at a horror attraction explains it.

“Oh, it’s your turn, y/n. You going in alone?” He asks. You glance behind you past the long line of teenagers to spot your friend Aya flirting with some guy. You grunt. “Yeah. Just me.”

Hyunjin smiles, taking your ticket and opening up the doors for you. “Enjoy.” He puts it simply, closing the doors behind you.

Hyunjin glances at the rest of the people in the line, the smile falling from his face as he makes his announcement which results in a chorus of groans.

“Okay everyone! Haunted mansion’s closed for tonight.”

- - - - -

As you ventured further into the haunted mansion, the path guided you through a dimly lit corridor. The flickering candles along the walls cast eerie shadows, whispering secrets in the air.

"for something that took years to make, this is pretty boring," you muttered, your disappointment evident in your voice. The first half of the experience was extremely underwhelming. The animatronics were, at least. But as you stepped into the next room, your boredom quickly turned to awe.

Inside, the place was straight out of a Gothic horror story. The Victorian aesthetic engulfed you, transporting as if you were entering dracula’s house or some shit.

As you continued, animatronic figures lurched and screeched, attempting to startle you with their mechanical movements and eerie sounds. But let's be real, they were more comical than terrifying. Their jerky motions and predictable jump scares only elicited laughter instead of fear..

You couldn't help but chuckle, finding amusement in their exaggerated gestures and obvious gimmicks. It became a game to anticipate their predictable moves, mocking their feeble attempts at fright.

The vibe itself was pretty spooky.

The thing that genuinely terrified you was the sudden ear-piercing scream cutting through the air.

Was that from outside? You couldn’t tell. There weren’t any windows. Maybe it just came from one of the speakers.

How long has it been, seven minutes maybe? Well, for one the place was huge and you took up most of the time taking pictures of the place and messing with the bots.

Startled by the crashing sound of the picture frame hitting the floor, you couldn't help but leap in surprise. As your racing heart gradually settled, you cautiously rounded the corner, only to find yourself confronted with a seemingly endless maze of hallways. The disorienting sight added to your growing sense of unease.

Just as you began to collect your thoughts, your hand-held phone abruptly buzzed, causing you to jump once more. The unexpected vibration sent a jolt through your system, making you exclaim, "Jesus—fuck!" A nervous chuckle escaped your lips as you pressed a trembling hand against your chest, trying to calm your pounding heart.

Assuming it was Aya, you braced yourself for a string of impatient requests to hurry up and drive her home. However, to your surprise, the incoming text displayed an unknown number. Curiosity mingled with a tinge of annoyance as you read the message that flashed on your screen: "

“Let’s play a game:)”

Your heart rate quickened in response, you weren't in the mood for pranks, you grumbled and decided to power off your phone, hoping to put an end to the unsettling message.

Your phone buzzed again.

With a mix of frustration and apprehension, you reluctantly picked up your phone and saw another message from the same unknown number: "Don't fucking ignore me, l/n." The words sent a shiver down your spine.

Reluctantly, you type back, your fingers trembling on the keyboard.

"Who are you?" you ask, your anxiety building with each passing moment.

The chat bubbles appear on the screen, filled with an unsettling anticipation. The silence hangs heavy, broken only by the rapid beating of your heart.

"Let's play," the mysterious person replies.

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you can't help but snap in response. "Look asshole, I don't have time for this," you retort, your patience wearing thin.

A pause follows, and then their next message appears, sending a chill down your spine. "I'm sure you do if your life depends on it," they jeer, their words laced with a sinister edge.

Confusion and fear intertwine within you, clouding your thoughts. Their cryptic statements leave you bewildered, struggling to grasp their true intentions.

Suddenly, a notification pops up, revealing an incoming image. With trembling hands, you open it, only to be met with a horrifying sight—Hyunjin covered in blood, and Aya who looked lifeless leaned up against a pole.

A scream escapes your lips as you drop your phone, shock coursing through your veins. Trembling, you gather the courage to pick up the device again, your mind racing with terror and desperation.

With a renewed sense of horror, you read the next message: "Don't worry, darling. They’re not dead yet. If you can be a good girl for me, I may just spare them."

Each word intensifies your panic, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.

“Don’t hurt them. I’ll do whatever you want.”

The tears streaming down your face are uncontrollable, having to hold the wall for support so your legs didn’t give up on you.

“Let’s play a game of hide and seek.” It writes. “I’m giving you two minutes to hide. If I find you by the time it strikes 12,” then they stopped typing. Seconds felt like hours as you waited. “Let’s just say they don’t get to see another day. As for you, things won’t get pretty so make sure to hide well:)”

It’s a little after 11:40, so you only have twenty minutes till the game is over. You assume that the timer for the duration you had to hide already started so you wasted no time to break into a sprint.

The game seemed simple enough. All you needed to do was hide for fifteen more minutes and you were golden! Besides, it’s a pretty big mansion. You’re confident that it’ll take them hours to find you.

- - - - -

Two more minutes.

There were only two minutes left.

You sink down against the wall, pulling your legs close to your chest. Thoughts of Chris flood your mind. You imagine how he might be doing, picturing the moment when all of this would be over and you could finally return home. The image of him standing before you, his dimpled smile breaking through, teasingly claiming that going to the fair wasn't such a great idea after all, tugs at the corners of your lips and brings a glimmer of warmth to your heart.

"I told you so!" he would tease, his voice filled with both amusement and genuine concern. But deep down, you know that Chan would be consumed with worry for your well-being and safety. You already imagine him scolding you, all while showering you with hugs and gifts to make you feel better. As his junior, his guidance and advice always carried weight, and you never missed an opportunity to listen to his words.

You find yourself sinking deeper into the memories, recalling how Chan had always been so understanding. Whenever the principal's wrath came crashing down, he was there, standing by your side, ready to defend you with unwavering loyalty. And when the storms of heartbreak or failed hook-ups battered your heart, Chris, was there to console you in ways that went beyond words. It was as if you were a treasured princess in his eyes, deserving of nothing but the utmost care and tenderness.

But right now wasn’t exactly the best time to dwell on your fat crush on him.

Like, yes, sure you guys fucked one or twice before but they meant nothing. It was just a way to relieve frustrations with zero strings attached.

His warmth, his voice… his hands that touch you in all the right places.

You’re definitely gonna miss it if you die in this hell hole.

“What's on your pretty little mind that’s got you thinking so deeply, princess?”

You gasp and quickly shoot up to a sprint until your front is pushed up against a wall, feeling someone’s weight pressed against you along with a cold blade poking against your throat.

“I found youuuu,” he taunts.

The man wearing a ghostface mask chuckled as he pressed the knife more into your neck, enough to make a small cut. You wince and groan in pain. The situation is almost laughable, finding it somewhat cliché with the way you’re about to die.

“Fucking… let me go,”

“But princess, I won didn’t I? We had a deal.”

“Fine! You win! Just kill me already then, why drag longer?”

You squirm around to possibly irk him more to speed up the process but as you do, the further your backside gets pushed into his hard on making him groan into your left ear. “But what’s the fun in killing you right away. I’m here to claim my prize.”

Your eyes widen, realizing what his intentions were now.

An idea popped in your head. If you just played along for a few more, you can distract him and make a beeline for the exit.

A laugh slips past your lips. “What’s this? I didn’t expect mister ghostface to be such a perv.” You rub your ass against the tent of his sweats eliciting a strained grunt from the man behind you.

He drops the knife, closing your throat with his fist, bringing your head back. “Don’t fucking tempt me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation of his gloved hand cupping your sensitive pussy. Slick begins to stain your lacy red panties as he hummed and dragged his middle finger along your slit. You gasp out in surprise, “don’t do that…”

“Oh? But you were rubbing against me not too long ago like a little slut, what happened to that confidence?” He reaches down further and gently parts the lips of your vulva before gently circling your entrance.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Your eyes flutter open at his words. You both have already gone this far, why stop now? If you told him to stop, would it just prompt him to kill you? You wanted to atleast see Chris before you died… Well, he asked for permission at least so that was good… fuck it, what about this situation was considered good in the first place? Played with your feelings using fear and dread and now he has you pressed up against the wall with his hand down your underwear.

It was a bit of a turn on.

“Why don’t you kiss my ass and fuck me already.”

You couldn’t see his face but you knew from the tone of his voice that he was grinning, “Good choice.” You were wet and waiting, so he slips a finger inside, thumb circling your clit. You moan, back arching. He adds another finger and pumps his fingers, adjusting the pace while you fall apart in his arms. Your sighs and moans, the way your body responds to him. He hooks his fingers as he circles your clit, rewarded with a moan that sounds suspiciously like calling on the gods.

You tighten around his fingers as you cum, your cheeks flushed in mild embarrassment, with your lipstick smudged from his fingers stuffing your throat full. He strokes you through your orgasm, a beautiful sight to see you undone like this, having to fight the urge to rio off his mask and kiss you.

“Did that feel good, princess?”

“Don’t… call me that.”

“What’s wrong? Do you like being called derogatory names instead?”

Your cheeks flushed. “No! I just… only he can call me princess…”

Ghostface went quiet as he stilled momentarily. He takes his fingers out. “Is that so..” his laughter fills your ears and you can’t help but shy away by hiding your face. Your body was jerked around, forcing you to face him as he squished your cheeks together roughly.

“Open your eyes.”

You shake your head. He moved his hand from your cheeks to your hair making you moan out in surprise.

“Your mask scares me!” You cried out. Staring back at the two blank eyes of the costume while getting fucked isn’t exactly ideal.

“Then I’ll take it off.”

He’s bluffing. Cause there’s no way in hell — this dude’s gotta be bluffing. “You’d do that?”

“For you I would.”

‘Yeah. If you could just take off your mask so I could report you to the police when I’m outta here that’d be great.’

But you’d wish you told him to keep his mask on instead. You would’ve rather preferred that.

“Chris?”

He cradled your face in his hand. “Why do you look so sad, princess? Not what you were expecting?” All you could do was cry. You were confused. You felt betrayed. You wanted nothing more than to shove him away but also melt against the warmth of his touch, the gentle caress of his hands that once brought you comfort. “Shh… shh, don’t cry.” Chan leans in and kisses away your tears.

“Why?” You hiccuped.

“I didn’t want you finding out. I never meant for this to happen.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Hell, y/n, I didn’t want you getting roped into this mess but you drive me fucking insane.

I won’t kill you, I just wanted to be honest with you. I’m sorry if you had to find out this way—“

You swallow his next words with a kiss. You didn’t want to listen to his words anymore. You didn’t care if it’s an excuse, you didn’t care if it was a lie, you didn’t care about anything as long as it was him.

“Save it. Whatever lame ass excuse you’re about to come up with, I forgive you.” This catches him off guard. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off again, “I’m tired and my pussy’s throbbing so let’s hurry and wrap this up.”

He grinned, urging to your knees. He gave your cheek a rough couple pats as he brought his index and middle finger to your lips, “open.” You part your lips and with little to no warning, he shoves his fingers down your throat. With his other hand, he pulled his sweats and briefs halfway down his toned thighs. He rubbed your spit around the length of his dick, giving it a few strokes before tracing the tip against your lips.

You poke your tongue out just to get a little taste of him making Chris visibly shudder. He groans before pushing the tip past your lips. You wrapped your lips around his cock and his hand immediately found its way on the back of your head. “Yeah… fuck, just like that…” you wrapped both of your hands around his length and worked quick pumps around the head while the other worked its way along the base.

He felt his knees buckle a little when you started sucking his balls. “You look so pretty like this,” he urged himself back into your mouth. “And who do you belong to?”

“You.” You moan. “I’m all yours, Channie.”

That was all the confirmation he needed before he began to brutally fuck your little throat. Your dress had ridden up gave it the liberty to press the tip of his shoe against your cunt making your hips jerk forward. As he ruthlessly fucked your throat and the laces of his converse rubbed deliciously against uour clit the stimulation was beyond amazing. After holding your head firmly against his pelvic area for what seemed like eternity, he finally let you get some air, removing yourself from his dick with a sloppy pop.

“Come here, pretty princess. Wanna cum inside of you…” he was quick to pull you to your feet and pushed you back up against the wall. Your answering smile is a smug thing, as if you’re proud of the effect you had on him. He kisses you then, groaning as he tastes himself on your tongue. Chan gripped your plush thighs and lifted you up with ease. He was gentle and slow, despite the circumstances you were thrown into. He rips your panties in half trying to get them off, drowning out your protests with a slight chuckle. “I’ll buy you new one’s.” He shoves your panties in his pocket before swiping his tip against your wet folds. “Oh,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut as he begins to move. The rhythm is slow at first, your fingers pulling him closer, as if you could eliminate all space between the both of you. Your hips meet his every thrust as they move together at a languid pace, as if they have all the time in the world.

He can feel the way your heart races, the rush of blood in your veins. He tries to be as gentle as possible as he sinks his teeth into your neck, drawing a delicious gasp from your lips as he thrusts into you, hoping to balance out the sensation of pain and pleasure. His face hovers over yours, breaths mingling. “Can you hear how wet you are?” He grunts, adding his thumb to the mix by rubbing your almost painfully sensitive clit. You moan loudly, back arching against the wall when you felt chan begin to suck at your tits over the thin material of your dress.

“Been wanting to fuck you for so long… seeing you walk around all night looking dolled up, I felt so jealous.”

He pounds mercilessly into your poor pussy, salty tears beginning to run down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure. “You're so gorgeous… wanna make you all mine — fuck,” he moans. “You’re so naughty… I told you not to go, didn’t I?”

“Channniiieee…. I’m gonna,” you whimper, whining against his lips. “I’m cumming… oh fuck, I’m cumming…”

“so cute…” he cooed. “You disobeyed me, and look at where we’re at now.”

You tangle your fingers in his hair as you orgasm followed by a shudder.

What sounded like footsteps that were approaching closer and closer catches you off guard and it seemed to have a similar effect on him as well.

Sticking to your plan from earlier, you shove him off of you while he’s distracted trying to figure out who could be approaching and make a beeline for the exit. His back hits a table, eyes widening.

“Love you Channie!” You grinned and before he could grab you, you shut the two heavy metal doors in front of him.

He grumbled, pulling his pants back on and opening the door only to be met with a ghostface mask staring right back at him.

“Hey,” Jisung says as he rips the mask off him.

“The van’s parked outside, the other’s have been waiting for twenty fucking minutes.” He says but he only received a glare from his leader. “You look pissed. What the hell happened this time?”

“Change of plans,” Chan says as he picks up his knife and mask from the floor. “You guys go on ahead without me.”

“What?” Jisung scoffed. “You can’t just do that at the last minute. Look, we’ve been planning this shit for years, you can’t just back down ‘cause you can’t control your dick. The police are already on their way, and—!” Chan throws his knife, missing Han by a hair as it pierces through the portrait behind him. Han felt his breathing stop for a quick second.

“You had your fair share of fucking with your slut, so pipe down.”

Jisung glowered, hand tightening around the handle of his gun. “Don’t fucking call her that.” He says, but he knew better than to get into an argument with his boss.

“I’ll meet you guys tomorrow.” Chan slips his mask back on.

“I’m gonna go claim back what’s mine.”

a.n: ruh roh, alpha wolf chan is mad cs he didnt get to orgasm😕😕

and yall i get it, you want more skz ghostface content, im getting there okay😭

also pls lmk if you want me to make anime fics too, all ive been posting about are skz dhisbsje i can write genshin too. P.s all ghostface aus r connected, hyunjin is next methinks

#reader insert #stray kids #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #x reader #stray kids smut #kpop smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #ghostface au

[aliaology]

NOW THAT WE DONT TALK

summary: jack realizes yns music is quite literally a call out, directed towards him, and his brothers egg it on. pt.3

series masterlist

“i called my mom, she said ‘that it was for the best!’ remind myself the more i gave, you’d want me less”

jack could’ve hit his head against the counter ten more times and the song would still be ringing through his ears like a splinter that wouldn’t come out of his hand.

quinns hand made contact with the back of jacks head. “knock it off, jack.”

jack groaned, shoving his head into his arms. he groaned again, this time the noise being muffled due to the his arm. “she wrote a song about me, quinn.”

quinn rolled his eyes. “you don’t know its about you” he told.

jack scoffed, head shooting up. “she literally called me out. the parties, that stupid red sea reference, even the chorus. its so obviously me. and then her newer single that dropped thirty minutes ago?’

quinn shrugged, “could be about trevor”

jack rolled his eyes, “no way in hell, quinn. they never hooked up and her newer one is about some guy hooking up with her later on—“

“you sound obsessed, jack.” quinn told. jack looked down, embarrassed.

“whats jack obsessed with?” trevor asked, walking inside the kitchen. he stole a grape from jack and popped it into his mouth.

“y/n’s song” quinn spoke.

trevor scoffed, “why are you so hung up on it? its just music.” trevor shrugged.

“hes upset because hes getting called out.”

jack groaned again, head hitting the counter.

quinn rolled his eyes again. “you’ve gotta stop doing that dude. listen— she probably made these ages ago and just now got to releasing them.”

trevor popped another grape in his mouth. “not too sure about that, but i know she started writing them when you two broke up.”

luke slowly walks in. “seriously? you guys are torturing the man talking about his ex.”

jack nods, signifying lukes words to be true.. luke goes into the cupboard to grab a plate. “just ignore it.” he shrugged.

trevor snorted. jack sent the boy a glare, causing his laughter to abruptly stop. “how can i just ignore it? shes getting big and her music is everywhere already.” he asked.

quinn gave him a look. “then face it, jack. you can’t keep putting yourself in denial for something you caused.”

jack let out an exasperated groan for the 100th time. “gee, thanks quinn. way to make me feel better.”

“dont start giving him shit, jack.” luke spoke.

jack rolled his eyes. “whatever, im going to my room.” he got up and went for the stairs.

all three boys looked around at each other. silence fell through the room. suddenly, the sliding door opens. “whats going on?” cole asked.

“quinn picked his side of the argument.” trevor spoke, slightly glaring at quinn.

quinn gave one back, “dont act innocent, trevor. you screwed her over too. you and jack need to own up to it and stop cowering like little kids. you are both in your twenties for fucks sake. grow up.”

quinn went off to his room, leaving a wide eyed group of boys behind.

jacks brows furrowed as he listened to the song in his earbuds. his girlfriend napped next to him as he sat up on the bed. he hates to admit it, but he kinda deserved this.

“lets fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later. if shes got blue eyes, i will surmise that you’ll probably date her. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor, you search in every model—“

he stopped the song, taking his earbuds out and tossing them to the floor. he cheated, and now was dating the girl he cheated with. it was sad, really.

fiona, she was a woman who loved money. jack, was a man who loved attention. maybe that’s why they were together. but she wasn’t horrible like people said, right?

quietly, he went to tik tok and made a fake account, that way she knew he didn’t stalk her profile. i mean— she has no idea he even uses it still.

jack searched fionas name up, ultimately clicking on her profile. she had one video up. he clicked on it.

ick ick ick ick

she was lip syncing that really terrible audio that went ‘he chose me, he dont want you. he chose me’ and honestly, jack was appalled.

but before he could open the comments, she started to wake up. he swiped out of the app and deleted it, tossing his phone to the side afterwards.

“hey baby.” he smiled.

now that we dont talk!

tags! @honethatty12 (if u want tags, just ask <3)

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl imagine #new jersey #new jersey devils #nhl #nhl hockey #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #mitch marner

[xxblairexxss]

Flushed

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Angst / fluff

Requested!

Your attempt to move on from your ex, Charles went terribly wrong.

Based on Google, the symptoms they mentioned were dizziness, abdominal pain, visual problem, trembling and reduced sense of control so I wrote based on it. I’m sorry if it wasn’t accurate! Thank you for the request, anon! I hope it lives up to your expectation!

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“Excuse me?!”

You jolted awake when your friend came bursting into the room with a bunch of chocolates and chips in her arms. Your hair was looking all disheveled, your eyes were red and puffy.

“What?” You brought the tissue paper to your face to blow on your nose before laying back down, tugging on the quilt to cover back your entire body.

“Y/N! It’s been months! You can’t seriously still crying over this. I mean, I get it, break up is sad but is this all what you gonna be doing?”

“I miss him!” Your voice became a muffle under the quilt and you heard Y/F/N groaned as she pulled the quilt away.

“Then call him. Tell him you miss him.”

“Should I?” You looked at her in surprise. She had always been telling you to move on, to just find someone else so you were expecting her to say the same thing over again. “No, I can’t do that. See, he doesn’t miss me as much as I do. I’m the one suffering here!”

“How do you know the break up doesn’t effect him?” She took a seat in front of you and went through all the chips she had bought with her. Her brows raised in excitement as she picked a salt & vinegar flavoured chips, offering you one when she opened it, to which you took and crunch on it.

“Because he doesn’t look like it? Have you seen his Instagram?” You scooted closer and dipped your hand into the chips packet to get another one.

“He’s a freaking Formula 1 driver. Have you ever seen Lewis Hamilton post a crying picture of him when he go through a break up?” She rolled her eyes, looking very much done with you. “What about the guy you were talking to last week?”

“Oh, I stop replying to him. Got an ick. But! I met this other guy.” You took your phone to click on the picture of the guy you were talking about and showed it to Y/F/N. “What do you think?”

“Let me see.” She took your phone away and stared, more like analysing the picture. “Sketchy. I would say no.”

“Why! He’s cute though.” You took the phone back and scrolled to a different picture. “See?”

“Oh, so now you are all interested with other guys just when I asked you to call your ex? I swear you be doing the exact opposite of what I told you.”

“It’s not like it was serious or anything. I still miss him. None of the guys I talked with could make me feel the same way like he did.” You turned off your phone and laid down by Y/F/N’s side, eyes trailing the details of your room for the hundredth times.

“Why don’t you try and go out with him?” She scowled at you jokingly when you turned to look at her. “Not Charles, idiot. That guy. Who knows a proper date could make you stop thinking about the Ferrari guy. One step at a time?”

“Do you think so?” You sat up and gazed at her in hesitation.

“I would prefer to see my best friend all dress up and going out on a date so I could hear some tea instead of hearing you wail over the same guy for another month.”

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“Too much?”

The date didn’t happen until another week after your conversation with Y/F/N as you weren’t exchanging texts everyday with the guy, Alan, and he didn’t mention anything about a date until the weekend arrived. You were actually contemplating to say yes because you had a hunch of something but you weren’t sure what it was and decided to dismissed it as ‘a feeling everyone gets when they try to move on from their exes’.

“Too much? Are you really asking me that? You look absolutely phenomenal!” Y/F/N walked to the dressing table and picked a few shades of lipsticks. “Try this one. It’s gonna pop your look even more.”

“I feel like I’m betraying Charles for this.” You closed the cap of the lipstick once you put it on and fixed the smudge on your eyeliner with your picky finger.

“Stop talking about Charles! You are on to a new adventure and a new dic–“

“Okay, I’m off!” You immediately stood up after applying perfume on your insides wrists and neck, walked back to the bad to get your handbag along with you.

“I just finished the longest shift in the world! Don’t wake me up and keep the tea hot until I wake up tomorrow, okay? Enjoy your date and go crush that dic–“

“Stop it!” You yelled back and slammed the door.

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“You look beautiful.”

“Hi!” You stopped when you were by the side of the table that he had sat. He looked exactly like how you pictured him. Fancy and well formed would be the words to describe him. He had told you beforehand that he would arrive a little early to the restaurant, asking you if you would mind about it to which you said no because it didn’t feel right to make him wait for you.

He greeted you with a hug and you were slightly taken aback when he ran his fingers through your hair, sniffing it as he pulled away. “You smell nice.”

“Oh, thank you.” You smiled back and took a seat as he pulled your chair out.

“I was actually going to wait but the waiter recommended a drink so I ordered it for you. I hope you don’t mind?”

“No, not at all. Thank you.” You placed your small bag on your lap and took a sip from the drink. It looked like a pinã colada so you were expecting a sweet taste on your tongue but this one had a weird smell and tasted salty. “Wow, it’s really strong!” You cringed as the drink hit your throat, thinking it could be a twist drink menu from the restaurant.

“Is it? Should I order a different one? Excuse–“

“No, no. It’s totally fine.” You waved your hand and he retreated his hand from calling the waiter.

“So, what’s up? Wait,” He shook his head and laughed in disbelief. “That was really bad. You are so beautiful it made me speechless for a while.”

He carried the whole conversations and you knew he would. He was also the one who had been picking new topics for you to talk about through texts. He looked exactly like his pictures, yes, but the way he approached certain topics were somewhat interesting, you would say. You saw the way he talked about women and though it was very subtle, he sounded haughty but you weren’t gonna jump into conclusion as maybe, just maybe, he had a bad day today so some of his emotions were conveyed through his way of thinking.

But it was hard for you to deny the discomfited feelings when he kept on touching your hand whenever you put it on the table and you had to continuously taking a sip from your drink just so it gave you a reason to pull your hand away.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah? I’m– I’m sorry I got distracted. What were you saying?” You shut your eyes as you felt yourself spacing out.

“I was asking if you ever had a pet.”

“Yeah? Yeah! I used to have a dog but he passed away like, last year. I’m sorry but I think– I am not sure– but–” You placed your fingers on your temple area and applied a pressure on it. You realised that you started feeling the room spinning around when you focused on him but everything around him swayed, making you nauseous. Everything he said went from clear words to a mumble to nothing at all. Your ears were ringing so bad they were no longer registering anything he said and you only see the way his mouth moves over and over, as if you had put it on mute.

“Is there anything wrong?”

“Yeah, I don’t– I don’t feel really good.” You winced from the pain on your head and took his hand as he stretched out his arm.

“Do you want me to bring you home?” He stood up and for a split second, you saw a smirk. You realised you had been spacing out, disoriented every second now. You didn’t know why, but you knew something was wrong. It couldn’t be from your food as you never had any food allergy. You felt completely fine before you left the house, exhilarated, even. But the little smirk that he had divulged as he offered you a hand sealed everything together.

You quickly retracted your hand and struggled to push the chair back, feeling suffocated as if it was trapping you. “I– I need to go to the bathroom. Excuse me.” You took your bag with you and tumbled when you tried to walk past him.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to walk you there and wait for you?” He held your waist, even pulled you closer as you felt his breath on your neck.

“No, it’s– it’s okay. I’ll be back. I– yeah.” You pushed him away and saw he trailed his eyes from your neck down to your chest, making you grapple to breath. Stepping aside, you held the wall as you took a few steps, leaning against it as you shut your eyes, trying to shake off the dizziness.

“Ma’am, are you okay?”

“Yeah– yeah, I’m fine.” You gave a little smile and continued walking to the bathroom, nearly toppled over a couple of times. You could feel the eyes on you from the workers and customers and there it was, again, the smirk from Alan as he looked at you from the table, hands in his pocket, looking full of pride.

The bathroom was empty, which was a relief and you scurried inside one of the stall and clumsily tried to lock the door, your hands shaking as it felt as if someone was chasing after you. You were now on the floor, your legs gave away as soon as your felt, not safe, but shielded from whatever it was outside.

You tried to unlock your phone but your blurry eyesight and trembling hands made it hard which caused your phone to lock itself from the repeated wrong passcode inputs. “No, no, no, no. Please.” You pressed everything that appeared on the screen and it was finally ringing to which you quickly placed it to your ear. “Please pick up. Please, please.”

The ringing stopped and you were greeted with a soft breathing sound from the other hand. You took in a shaky breath and wiped your tears with the back of your hand. “H–hello?”

“Y/N?” It was Charles.

“I– I don’t know– I don’t–“ Your words were stuck in your throat and you couldn’t stop sobbing so everything became a mess. None of your words were spoken, every sob you took made you feel more and more breathless.

“Y/N? Hey, hey, hey. Slow down. Where are you?”

“I’m at La Table and– I think– something in my drink– my head hurts.” You mumbled and pulled your phone away where you heard footsteps coming.

“Y/N, hey, Y/N, listen. I’m coming to you, alright. Stay on the phone with me. Can you do that?” You nodded but he was expecting to her your voice. “I need words, Y/N. Say something.”

“Yes…”

“I’m heading to my car. Can you tell me where you are?”

“I’m in the bathroom. Can you please–” You flinched when you heard a knock coming from outside your stall.

“Baby? It’s me.” It was Alan. Then came a woman’s voice after his. “Ma’am, we thought you weren’t feeling well so we brought your boyfriend.” The knocking sound came again.

You were trembling so hard that the phone nearly slipped off your hand. You pushed on your leg to scoot as far as you can from the door. The bathroom was big, bigger than usual but it still made you feel like as if there wasn’t enough room for you.

“Charles– I’m– I’m scared.” You whispered, and flinched when they knocked on your stall again. “They– he is outside.”

“I’m 5 minutes away, Y/N. I promise. Fuck!” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel when the traffic light turned red before he could pass.

You turned you head to the door when you heard the clicking sound as the door came unlocking, the handle being pushed down from the outside. “Ma’am, we are unlocking the door for you.” The worker had an extra keys and they had permission from Alan, which they assumed was your boyfriend and guardian to unlock the door and you scurried deeper against the wall. Your phone had now fallen on the floor and long forgotten.

“Baby,” Alan crouched down on his knees and brushed the strands of your hair away, one finger trailing down to your neck and you shook your head in urgency, shutting your eyes and you trembled in fear.

“No, no. I– please, no.”

“What do you mean? I’m your boyfriend. I’m taking you home.” He pulled you by you wrist so your hand were no longer covering your face but you kept your eyes shut, too scared to look at him in the face.

“Look at me, baby.” He gripped on your chin roughly, jerking you which made you opened your eyes in fear. You saw he was looking back, checking if the worker was still there before bringing his face to your ear. “Behave, or I’m gonna make it worse for you.” You felt his tongue under your ear and it caused you to shiver with feart.

“I– go home– I wanna go home.” You saw he pulled a face, nodding as if he was mocking you.

“I can’t wait to go home too, baby.” He bobbed your head, his grip on your face still stayed.

“Move.”

“What?” You heard he said and as you shut your eyes, refusing to look at him in the eyes any longer. You were no longer felt any force on your cheeks but you could still feel his presence near you, in front of you.

“I said move, bastard!” Charles pulled his back by clenching roughly on the back of his collar, pulling his out of the stall, away from you.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”

He ignored the man and immediately went in front of you. You had your face hidden against your knees. “Y/N,” He timidly tried to hold your trembling body, hands went to grip on your shoulders. His touch was different though you weren’t aware of your surrounding. The significant difference between the touches made stop quivering a little. “Y/N, princess, it’s me.”

“Please– please don’t leave me.” You unable to form any words, slowly lifting your head to seek comfort from whoever in front of you when you found yourself in someone’s embrace as Charles pulled you into a hug, the familiar comfort inundated your heart when his arms tightly wrapped around your shaky frame.

“I’m not, I’m not. I’m right here, Y/N. I won’t leave you.” You didn’t see it but when he stroked his hand on your back, it was shaky. It felt like he had been holding his breath ever since he received your call and now only could he finally filled his lung with air. He didn’t know and hadn’t properly check if you were hurt but you were in his arms, no longer a phone call away where he could only imagine the worst.

“I am so sleepy– I can’t– everything hurts.”

His hand went to stroke your hair as he shushed you, realising that you still couldn’t speak properly. “It’s okay, princess. It’s okay.“

“Who the fuck are you? Let me handle her.”

“Lay your hand on her and I’ll fucking break it. ” Charles pushed the guy away, sending him tumbling back. “Can you stand up? Y/N, hey, look at me. I need you to stand up. Can you do that for me?”

Charles patted you on your cheeks when he saw you were spacing out, your eyes getting droopy. “Fuck it.” He went from crouching to kneeling down as he wrapped his arms around your back and your knees, standing up and your head was leaning against his neck.

“Head hurts. My– stomach.” Your words became a mumble against his skin as you were falling asleep and he leaned his cheek against your forehead, trying to reassure you.

“I know, Y/N. I know.” He took your phone and bag, hanging it on his arm before trying to walk out from the bathroom.

“Y/N–“

“Go fuck yourself.” Charles pushed the guy by his elbow, causing him to crash against the sink. “I’m not done with you yet.”

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When you woke up, you were in an oversized shirt, Charles’s shirt. Your skin didn’t feel moist from all those skincare and makeup products and you had a gel-cooling pad on your forehead. Your head was still throbbing but it was better than what you felt last night.

“Y/N?” Your turned your body to the back, facing the door of the bedroom and saw Charles walked in. “No, no. Just lay down.” He straighten his arms to halt you from sitting up and he crouched down by your side of the bed so he could meet your eyes. He the. caressed the side of your face, letting his hand so stay cupping on your cheek as he gently stroked the temple of your head. “You scared me a lot. Does your head still hurt?” The warmth of his hand, the comfort of his gaze, the reassuring smile could pull you back to sleep. Long gone all the insecurity and perilous feelings from yesterday. You felt sheltered and secured just from his touch. The touch that you had been yearning.

“No, not anymore.” You smiled at him back taking his hand in yours and brushed your lips on the palm. “What’s wrong with your hand?” You frowned and trailed the cuts on his knuckles, stopping when you see him grimaced.

“I got into a fight. It’s nothing, princess.” You haven’t heard the nickname for the longest time ever but it still gave you butterfly.

“A fight? With who?”

“No one. It’s not important.”

“Can you lay down with me?” You saw he blinked, looking at you as if he was asking you to repeat the words.

“Is it– is it okay? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Please?” Charles gqve in when he saw your look, almost pleading and stood up to get on the bed. You scooted closer, your head finding its way to its home, against his chest as you felt his fingers playing with your hair.

“Why did you do it?” Charles asked, breaking the silence in the room.

“Do what?”

“The date. Why did you go on a date?”

“I–“ You drew in a breath. “I was trying to move on from you.”

“Why?” His hand is now on your back and you felt your shirt tugged a little as if he was trying to snake his hand under it but held himself and went back to stroke your back, hand against your shirt.

“Because I miss you.” You fixed your head on his chest, your legs are all tangled up with his.

He didn’t say anything else and you felt like you were chagrined, feeling rejected, even slightly ashamed for being too blunt with your feelings. You knew you shouldn’t have said that. He probably had been talking to someone else by now.

“I miss you too.”

“Hm?” You tilted your head when you heard his voice cut all the thoughts in your head.

“I actually miss you a lot, princess.” He looked down and beamed when he met your eyes on him.

“But you don’t look like it.” You muttered, making him chuckle.

“What do you mean?”

“Your Instagram, it doesn’t look our break up effect you.” He chuckled even more and leaned his head against your hair. Your voice was so full of diffidence he found it adorable.

“My Instagram doesn’t speak for my feelings, silly. I miss you, a lot. I always wanted to call you but I couldn’t, scared if you would find it annoying. When I got a call from you last night, I thought you were gonna said something, anything about us but I heard you whimpered and my blood ran cold. God knows how many speeding and disobey sign traffic tickets I have gotten by now.”

You giggled and turned yourself facing him, your hands fondled with his chin, feeling the stubble poked against your skin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even know I was calling you. I didn’t want to call you, actually because I wasn’t sure if you would come because, you know, we broke up.”

“We broke up but you are still important to me, Y/N. You always will. I would even take the damn flight if you called me from a different country. Just– don’t call me when you are on a date. No, no more date for you.”

“Why? How am I able to move on if I can’t go on a date, Charles. I can’t keep on crying over you.” You shook your head, looking dejected. You needed to move on. That was what Y/F/N had been telling you. You couldn’t keep on hoping for something that you, yourself didn’t even know if it was worth the wait.

“You don’t have to move on. I’ll be taking you out on your next date. And your next next date. And your upcoming date. All of your dates, basically.”

You sat up almost instantly, hand was still on his chest and you blinked. “What? What do you mean? Are you doing this just because you felt bad for what happened to me last night because if that was the reason, then it’s totally fine. I–“

You felt his lips on yours. It was the kind of kiss that was enough to speak for all of the unspoken words to which he didn’t even have to say anything else. The kind of kiss that erased all your insecurities, all unanswered questions you had been keeping in your head. He pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours. “It means I still love you, princess.” His lips is back on yours as he pulled away, again. “A lot.” Lips were back to mould against yours. “And I don’t want to see you go out on a date with someone else. No more silly date, okay?”

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @aundercover @love4lando

let me know if you would like to be removed or added to my tag list! or if I missed anyone!

Wanted to also point these out. The other symptoms mentioned were difficulty to speak and slurring words, hence why none of the words she said made any sense. Feeling confused, where the reader asked Alan to bring her home and memory loss, where she didn’t ask about what happened last night since she couldn’t remember large sections of it. Hope it makes sense! 🫶🏻

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

[cupcakeslushie]

I sincerely see little issue on you coping like that, as long as its not, you know, graphic

Would i be uncomfortable? Very. Im still not quite over my own experience

But I'd be lying if i said i hadnt thought of putting some characters i relate to in such things and having they deal with it and feel like i did (as much as they can in the circumstances)

Yeah as long as this stuff isnt fetishized im on full support of it

Okay I feel like I’m stuck in a loop where the target is still being just slightly missed. I appreciate your intentions with this ask, and I can see where you were going. But “as long as it’s not graphic” and “as long as it’s not fetishized” are still putting qualifiers on art.

Art has no bounds. As long as triggers are tagged properly, and put behind a “read more” for the visually graphic images, any art can be created. When we start requiring stipulations for artists to meet before making art, we start the process of sanitizing it. If you read the warnings and still click on the post, then your discomfort is on you. If you aren’t mature enough to know your own limits in what you can handle, the artist shouldn’t have to issue a statement decrying their art, and listing all their traumas for some kind of purity tribunal to then decide it’s okay, and only when it’s being used as a coping mechanism.

It’s kinda funny, after all this, I likely wasn’t even going to actually DRAW anything sexually graphic, and at most, simply hint at it. But it doesn’t matter. If I wanted to, I should be able to, as long as it’s given all the warnings required. If I don’t like certain triggers, I avoid them. I’m not delusional enough to think that in all the whole, wide expanse of the internet, people will pander to my specific icks, likes and dislikes. I curate my own internet experience.

I can only hope, as I go about my day, that I am given the same courtesy of being warned ahead of time in the summary and tags, that I’m giving. But if another artist does want to draw that, I’m not going to request to see their trauma resume, just so I can approve of what they made. If I clicked, after reading the warnings and knowing damn well I would be triggered, I’m not going to be mad at the artist. That’s on me.

#ask slushie #kendratello au #tw rape mention #tw sa mention #tw discussions of rape

[abiiors]

midnight, car lights 🌃 // george daniel x reader

a/n: a second fic for the george bbf!au that's been plaguing me lately!! (a third one is coming soon). also happy 10 years of self titled <33 i'm scheduling this to come out at midnight uk time tihi

cw: none really, just fluff and flirting. maybe a very tiny age gap?? like 2 ish years

wc: 3.3k

“let’s go on a joyride.”

those words bounce around in your head like the dvd logo, said to you at 11:50 in the night—whisper-shouted would be more accurate. from under your balcony no less, like some fucked up iteration of romeo and juliet. 

so far you have failed to come up with a coherent answer for george who stares up at you expenctantly.

you lean over the railing, your curiosity piqued. "a joyride…” his words repeated back to him in a disbelieving deadpan voice. 

he nods eagerly. in his hands is a tiny heap of small stones—the source of the clinks on your bedroom window that had scared you half to death. when george follows your gaze, he drops the rocks hurriedly, dusting off his hands. 

“it’s a thursday night…” you point out. 

he clicks his tongue. “and you’re clearly not doing anything.”

your eyes narrow at his little jab. sure he’s right but come on now, he didn’t need to point it out like that.

“my brother—”

“is out on his ‘date’.” he makes a little face at that and you stifle the urge to laugh at how icked out he looks. clearly, some more questions that you need to pester matty with. but that’s for tomorrow. right now you raise an eyebrow at the way he cuts you off and finishes your sentences.

“my parents—”

“are asleep!!” his voice acquires a borderline whiny quality. “i checked!” he confirms proudly and before you have the chance to present him with further counterarguments, he throws his hands up in the air. 

“come on, little healy,” george’s grins a feral little grin, “scared you’ll get caught?”

you bite your lip, determined not to let him see your smile. it’s midnight, you’re in your pjs—an old ramones t-shirt and tiny shorts that barely come up to the top of your thighs—your hair is half out of your ponytail. in short, you’re the ugliest you’ve ever looked in front of george. 

meanwhile he looks like he’s just stepped out of an indie rock magazine—black skinny jeans, a black t-shirt that hangs loosely on him and yet somehow fits perfectly and his beloved vans. at this point, you’re sure george could wear just about anything and still look drop-dead gorgeous. 

“only a little drive? i promise i’ll get you back home in one piece.”

truth be told, you had made up your mind the first time he asked. a slow tingle of thrill slithers down your spine. the goody two shoes who’s never even smoked a cigarette before he came into the picture. about to sneak out the window at 11:56 pm. 

“okay,” you mumble to yourself. the small smile you’d tried to stifle escapes anyway. “okay, fine.”

george grins and whoops silently, fists the air in triumph. it does something funny to your stomach–his excitement. 

“hold on a minute,” you tell him before making a mad dash to your wardrobe for an acceptable pair of jeans and a t-shirt. 

the subtle nude lip gloss is inviting but you know it’s too much. he’s probably just bored on a thursday night and has nothing else to do. so begrudgingly you settle on a lip balm and brushing out your hair. 

it’s fine. it’s normal. and anyway, he’s not going to see you as anything more than matty’s little sister, so what’s the point?

another little rock clinks on your window followed by a soft whisper-shout. 

“hurry up!” the clear impatience in his voice makes you giggle but you look at the mirror a final time, smoothing out your unruly hair. this is as best as it gets. 

after all, this is not a date.

“can’t exactly fly out the window, george,” you respond drily as soon as he comes back into view. 

he looks around curiously, toeing the grass and pulling it loose with his shoes. you can practically see the wheels in his head turning, generating ideas that you don’t entirely trust… matty’s friends aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed—not according to you anyway—but once george gets an idea, it is downright impossible to deter him. 

“that looks good enough,” he mumbles but you catch it anyway, catch the spot his eyes are trained on and your stomach plummets about half a foot. 

“have you—have you lost your mind?!” you stifle your screech halfway through, looking at the boy in front of you like he’s grown two heads. 

george shrugs, looking the least bit bothered and points to the pipe next to your window. 

“it’s sturdy, look,” he gives it two firm raps with his knuckles. “and there’s the brick for you to grab onto. and i’ll catch you.”

the last part has your ears perking up. you look at him with a raised eyebrow. it’s only a floor. the ground below you is soft grass that’s regularly mowed and looked after. if you fall, the most that will happen is a bruised ass (and a bruised ego). besides, the alternative is to go your through the front door and risk waking up the whole house. 

“trust me!” he bounces on the balls of his feet, eager and impatient. 

george stuffs his hands in his pockets, veins on his forearms taut with tension. his colourful tattoos are a stark contrast to his all-black outfit. should you trust him? 

“if i fall—”

“you won’t!” he answers confidently. “i’m not going to let you get hurt.”

your heart skips a beat at how soft he sounds, mumbling the sentence more to himself than to you. a shadow of tenderness crosses his features, or maybe you’re just projecting. just a silly little girl with a crush on her brother’s best friend. a cliché. 

“can’t let my best mate’s little sister get hurt,” he clears his throat. and your heart drops in your chest. of course not. to him you are nothing but matty’s sister. ‘little healy’. 

“’course not,” you mutter begrudgingly and grab onto the pipe.

george stands below you, hands raised, neck craning to guide your steps down the exposed brick wall. there’s taking risks and then there’s whatever the fuck this is. regardless, you have put a disturbing amout of faith is george and now there’s nowhere to go but down. literally. 

the last few feet loom between you and the ground. your sweaty palms almost slip and involuntarily a whimper escapes you. 

“almost there, sweetheart,” george murmurs. that word snags in your brain. all thoughts fly away, and before you know it, you’re missing a step, foot slipping on the rough wall. there’s a split second of panic, the beginning of a scream that dies in your throat as soon as you feel a pair of hands around your waist. 

warm, rough hands on soft skin. 

george, holding you up. 

you’re practically pulled flush against his chest, wide-eyed and flushed from the almost fall. funnily enough, the vertigo intensifies the moment you look up into his eyes. they’re just as wide as yours, mouth parted as if he was about to say something. 

for a fleeting instant, time seems to stand still. the world around you fades into a distant blur as you and george remain locked in this suspended moment, bodies pressed close together, his towering over yours. his warm breath tickles your skin, and you can feel the rapid thud of his heart against your chest.

"are you okay?" george's voice is a hushed murmur, his grip on you firm yet gentle.

you manage a shaky nod, finding your voice after a few seconds. "yeah, i... i think so."

george's grip on you doesn't waver as he slowly guides you back onto the solid ground, his hands lingering on your waist for an extra beat before finally releasing you. you take a step back, both to regain your composure and to put some distance between the two of you. 

"thanks," you mumble, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "i don't know what happened there." you giggle nervously, unable to stare directly into his eyes. 

"no need to thank me,” he smiles, “just glad i was here."

the two of you stand there for a second, the weight of the almost moment hanging in the air. then, as if on cue, george's playful grin returns, diffusing the tension like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds.

"good to know i can make your heart race like that, little healy," he begins with a teasing glint in his eyes.

despite the heat creeping up your neck, a small laugh escapes your lips, the tension finally breaking as you roll your eyes at his cheeky comment. "you're unbelievable, george."

“right then,” he toes a small pebble, stuffing his hands in his pocket. “shall we?”

his car is cleaner than you expected. 

sure there are some receipts and empty plastic bottles on the floor, even a jacket in the back seat for some inexplicable reasons but it’s nowhere near the pigsty that is your brother’s car. 

“in you go,” he motions, casually holding the door for you. internally you’re grateful that he can’t see your flustered expression. 

it’s a tiny gesture, barely even a gesture really—just a boy opening a car door for you. but he’s not just a boy. he’s george—the boy who makes you mad beyond belief and annoys you with the smallest of efforts. the boy who makes you stumble over your words. the boy who is your brother’s best friend. 

“my my, george,” you tease to cover up your flustered silence, “manners. when did that happen?”

george rolls his eyes as he closes the car door behind you, and you settle into the passenger seat. you notice the faint scent of air freshener, attempting to mask any lingering odors from the cigarettes he no doubt must have smoked earlier. you glance sideways at him when he gets settled in the driver’s seat, unable to hide the hint of a smile playing at the corner of your lips.

"believe it or not," george retorts, putting the car in reverse, "i do have manners sometimes. just don't expect it all the time."

another playful taunt crawls up your throat, about to make it’s way out of your mouth when george casually just does the hottest thing you’ve ever possibly seen. your heart is in your mouth as you try not to stare at his arm behind your headrest. george, oblivious to your freak out, focuses solely on reversing the car from its little hiding spot. his cologne—something warm and smoky—fills the tiny car. a space that is so overwhelmingly him that you have to swallow roughly every couple minutes lest you do something incredibly stupid. 

like grabbing his face and kissing him senseless. 

especially with how inviting his light stubble looks. 

instead, you pointedly stare out the window at the dull grey road beneath you. 

“scared?” he teases, misinterpreting your darting eyes. 

all you can do is shake your head. there’s no way you trust your ability to speak right now, especially as half of your brain is focused on not ogling his arms and hands. 

this was a mistake. this was a stupid, idiotic, avoidable mistake. 

“come on! aren’t you excited to do something reckless for once?”

you are, you really really are. there’s no denying it as the car finally maneuvers out of the parking spot and away from your house. 

you let out a silent sigh of relief. the tension in the air begins to dissipate, and you take the opportunity to relax your grip on the seat. you sneak another glance at george, this time allowing yourself to truly take in his features.

his bleached hair is tousled—just the right amout of effortlessly messy, and his full pink lips only intensify the butterflies in your stomach. george is beautiful—from the way his hands grip the steering wheel with confidence to his jaw that tenses as he focuses on the road. all of it makes your heart race again. you can't deny your silly little crush, can’t deny all the times you have wished george was anyone but matty’s best friend. that you actually had the courage to kiss him. more than that you can’t deny all the times you’ve wished he would kiss you first. 

“where are we going?” you clear your throat, distinctly aware of how breathy you sound. 

george shrugs. “maccies, i think. been really craving some milkshake.”

and then he has the audacity to snicker at your gaping face. “a milkshake…” you trail off, wondering if hitting him on the head would be taking it too far. “sure, good to know i risked my life for your milkshake cravings!”

“pfft,” he blows air, taking his eyes off the road and training them on to you. “admit it, sweetheart, you were ready to, oh what was it? ‘risk your life’ for the thrill of it. don’t lie to me now, i saw it in your eyes.”

there it is again, the little flutter in your ribcage at the s-word. george seems so casual about it too, throwing it around like it doesn’t bother him whatsoever. and maybe it doesn’t, maybe he uses that on every single girl he talks to. the thought curdles in your stomach. 

“fine then,” you huff, turning back to the window.

the mcdonald’s is a flurry of people—drunk and high students looking to satisfy their munchies, homeless people looking for a cheap meal and shelter. exhausted employees handing out orders with a dead expression on their face. you almost feel sad, making them prepare two milkshakes at this ungodly hour. 

you turn to george who is busy studying the menu with the utmost curiosity. 

“strawberry,” he mumbles to himself then turns to you. “or no, wait. banana?”

you quirk an eyebrow. “strawberry is superior.”

“which means that’s what you’re getting,” he replies and goes back to perusing.

“if you think, for even a second, that i would let you steal—”

“so territorial, sweetheart,” he teases, eyes still on the artificially lit board. “fine. two strawberries then.”

george places the orders, giving the cashier his winning smile and handing over some cash. she perks up slightly, eyeing him through her lashes while george leans against the counter. a sudden heat burns through you, wild and unpleasant. 

heartburn, you tell yourself. the milkshake will fix it. 

or maybe not looking at george being flirty would fix it but oh well…

so you turn around, finding yourself an empty seat and leave him to bring over the drinks. 

minutes later, you almost jump out of your skin when george places the cool take-out container against the nape of your neck without warning. 

“real mature, george!” the shriek causes a few people to throw distasteful looks your way but he looks absolutely unbothered and oblivious.

“such a grump,” he snickers and motions for you to follow him. 

armed with your milkshake, you settle in the car once again. the car park is almost dead at this hour of the night and you wait for him to start the car back up, for him to tell you what the next steps are but george only taps tirelessly on the steering wheel. a complete 180 from five minutes ago.

tap. pause. tap tap tap. pause. tap. pause. it’s restless and rhytmless; not like his usual tapping where he’s lost in own tune. his milkshake sits untouched, condensation dripping onto the dashboard. 

you wrap your lips around the straw, sucking on it noisely, sipping on the sweet, cool liquid while you observe him closely. “something’s on your mind.” 

your statement makes him blink. so you’re right then, something is on his mind. he’s more fidgety than usual. in the stillness of the night, his thick swallows and knee jerks are painfully obvious. 

“what’s up…” you trail off, unsure if pushing him would be the right move. 

“there’s this–well. i want to–”

“this is new.” the amount of glee in your voice should be disturbing to you but you can’t contain it. because it is new. 

you’ve seen george be arrogant and annoying, laddish and even on occasion, sweet. but you’ve never seen him be shy before. 

“shut up,” he mutters to himself, then sighs loudly. “okay fine, it’s better if i just show you.”

you follow his movements inquisitively, his imperceptibly shaky hands as he takes out his phone and opens up a non-descript recording titled track 11

his phone screen illuminates his face in the dimly lit car as he hovers over the audio file. the soft glow casts a warm, intimate ambiance, making you acutely aware of how close you are to him in the confined space. your curiosity and anticipation mount as you wonder what he's about to reveal.

"i've been thinking about this for a while now," he clears his throat, finger lowering to finally click on the file. "and i want to share something with you."

at first, nothing happens. all that comes out of the speakers is static and then some more static. but just as you're about to speak, the car is filled with the opening notes of a song—one that instantly tugs at your memory. It's a tune that you have heard before, at different points in time. it's the song that matty’s hummed to you on days you were ill in bed, a song you heard them play at band practice. it’s a song that george and matty laboured over for days. the one that brought you all closer together.

and now it sounds all put together. the final piece of the puzzle locked in.

matty’s voice is stronger than you’ve ever heard, adam’s guitar and ross’ bass sprinkling magic onto it. and then there are the drums—precise and clear and passionate. just like how george drums his fingers on his lap now, matching the beat of the song.   

when the song ends, there's a brief silence in the car. the weight of the notes and the sincerity in his eyes hang in the air, leaving you breathless.

"george," you finally whisper, "that was..."

“we finished it,” he smiles, looking down at his lap. “so we recorded it…”

“it’s…”

there you are once again, at a loss for words. almost certain that there might be actual tears in your eyes. 

“that was…”

“shit? derivative? lousy?” he tries to laugh it off, covering up a vulnerable moment with his jokes but you’d be damned if you let that happen. 

“perfect.” 

the words echoes around the car resoundingly. there’s no challenging your opinion. the song is perfect.

“and you listen to me once and for all george daniel, if you call that song names in front of me one more time, if i hear you call it shit and derivitive and lousy again—”

before you can finish your sentence, george leans forward, crashing his lips onto yours. there’s a crackle of electricity in the air around you, the slowing down of time as if you’re having an out-of-body experience. as if you are a fly on the wall watching two people giving into the magnetic pull between them. but george cups your cheek with his hand and you jolt back into your body. 

his lips are cool from the milkshake but the kiss is searing hot, teeth clashing against teeth. your bodies trying to get as close to each other as possible despite the gearstick between your seats. george tugs on your bottom lip, smiling wide as if he can’t help it—grinning ear to ear.

by the time you pull away, you’re both breathing heavily—practically panting. he doesn’t pull back entirely, instead he keeps his eyes closed and his forehead rested against yours. the grin stays on his face. wide and gorgeous and making him look so boyish. 

“um,” you start and break off into a quick laugh. 

"i've wanted to do that for quite some time now," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah?” 

“yeah.”

with some hesitation, george lets go of your face, opening his eyes to look at you a second later. 

“damn, sweetheart,” he sighs again, chuckling a little. “this is turning out to be a great joyride, huh…”

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @beachesgetpeaches, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy

add yourself to the taglist

#disclaimer: i don't own the gifs in the banner. i got them from pinterest so idk who the creators are sadly #they kissed. everyone cheered. #banner by cafekitsune <33 #george daniel #george daniel x reader #george daniel fic #ross macdonald #matty healy #adam hann #the 1975 #george daniel imagine #george daniel the 1975 #george daniel x you #george x reader #george x you #brother's best friend #george daniel fluff #the 1975 fluff #the 1975 rpf #rpf #fluff #fluff writing

[natsstar]

Professor Romanoff?

pairing: fem reader x professor! romanoff

warnings: smut! age gap! (i have a thing for older women leave me alone.) power bottom! nat (ish) oral (r giving) fingering (r giving)

word count: 2000

—-

“Y/N!” a voice calls behind you in the hallway.

You turn your head to see Wanda walking up to you. “Hey Wands. Ready for class?”

She lets out an exasperated sigh, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two of you walk into room 408, ready for Russian Lit. It was by far your hardest class, taught by the infamous Professor Romanoff. Romanoff was known for being hard and stern, holding her students to high expectations. Nobody you knew had ever gotten an A in her class. You two sit down in the back of the class as you hear the professor’s heels clicking into the room. She’s wearing black trousers with a leather blazer and a white button down blouse underneath. Along with being infamously difficult, she was also known for being infamously hot, and God she knew it too. Her red hair falling down her smooth neck, cutting off right above her shoulders. You always hate to admit it but- you didn’t actually mind her class. It’s hard, sure, but you get to stare at the beautiful redhead for an hour and a half every Tuesday and Thursday, how could you complain? You always did your best in her class, even though she never noticed. Whatever.

The class flies by and you and Wanda leave, both of you leaving campus to go to your after school jobs.

“Coffee tomorrow before class?” Wanda asks, giving you a knowing smile as the two of you walk towards the parking lot.

“Yea sure. My shift is late tonight so I’ll need it,” you respond, pulling your keys out of your pocket and unlocking your car.

“Don’t work too hard, Y/N!” Wanda calls over her shoulder.

“Yea okay,” you scoff.

—

Work is long- too long. You wait tables at a nearby restaurant, on most weeknights and all day on weekends. You emerge from your shift tired and overwhelmed after closing. You check your phone and sigh, it’s 11 pm- an hour after you should’ve left. You see the fluorescent lights of the “Open” sign across the street and head over. A couple drinks couldn’t hurt- maybe just take your mind off things. You walk into the bar still wearing your work clothes- black jeans, boots, and a blank tank top underneath a rain jacket. Peeling off your jacket you hop onto a barstool with a hmph. The bartender makes his way over- a tall guy with a scruffy beard, maybe a few years older than you, but still attractive. He gives you a wink before taking your drink order, and you can’t help but laugh.

About fifteen minutes go by and you’ve made it through your first drink, your chin resting on your hand as you lazily wait for your next one. This guy is taking forever. If the wink wasn’t an ick then this definitely is. A few moments later he hops over with a drink- except it’s not yours. The glass is tall and skinny with an olive garnished over the top.

He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off, “I ordered a whiskey over ice,” you say with a polite smile.

“Oh um I know but-” he nods his head down the counter, “that lady over there sent this over to you.” You crane your neck to see who the perpetrator is. She’s not looking this way, but from what you can gather from her side profile she’s hot.

“Martini. Classy,” you retort, taking it from him. “Thank you.” Just as you’re about to take a sip, the mystery woman turns her head towards you, raising her matching glass with a nod. Your mouth misses the glass completely, falling open as your eyes go wide. It’s fucking Professor Romanoff. She’s wearing the same outfit as earlier- how the fuck didn’t you recognize her the second you walked in? You’re snapped out of your trance when she lets out a small chuckle at your reaction, turning her head back to the counter as she sets down her drink. Absolutely dumbstruck, you do the same. Is my professor trying to fuck me? You find your cheeks reddening and your palms getting sweaty at the thought.

You see her moving out of the corner of your eye- slowly turning your head to watch her actions. She makes eye contact with you as she takes off her blazer, draping it over the stool before stalking her way to the bathroom.

“Well shit,” you mutter under your breath, taking a massive swig over your drink before stumbling out of your seat and following her. The bartender gives you a weird look as you make a beeline for the bathroom. You send him a wink before pushing open the door, quickly locking it behind you and pressing your back to the cool wood.

She’s sitting on the sink, legs crossed, her focus completely on picking the skin of her cuticles. You stand there for a moment, breathing heavily with anticipation.

“Y/N.” Professor Romanoff husks out.

“Professor, I-“

“Natasha,” she cuts you off, finally lifting her head to look at you, giving you a piercing stare. “You’ll call me Natasha tonight.”

“Ok,” you breathe out shakily.

She hooks a finger in your direction, and you’re pulled towards her like a cat on its prey. She opens her legs as you rush to place yourself in between them, your mouth attaching to the soft skin of her neck as you slide your hands up her thighs. Natasha lets out a groan, tilting her head back as you suck purple marks into her flesh.

“What the fuck is happening,” you mutter in between sloppy kisses up the woman’s jaw.

“Shh shh,” she hushes, a hand snaking into your hair as she drags your lips to hers.

You let out a soft moan the moment Natasha’s lips press to yours, the older woman taking the opportunity to slide her tongue into your open mouth. She’s kissing you frantically, teeth clashing ever so often as she scrapes her fingernails down your scalp. You press your hips into her center and Natasha gives you a low groan, ever so slightly arching her back into you. Your hands clasp onto her thighs and your hips roll, pulling a louder moan from Natasha, her mouth leaving yours as it hangs open.

“Clothes. Off.” Natasha says demandingly.

You nod, making quick work on the buttons of her shirt, peeling it off of her before stepping back to take off your own shirt. You rake your eye’s up your professor’s exposed torso, admiring her soft muscles and how deliciously messed up her hair is. Natasha doesn’t wait for you, reaching back to unclip her bra, her eyes never leaving yours. Your gaze remains on her face until you can’t take it anymore, surging forward and palming her soft chest. You pinch her nipples and she groans, her legs coming to wrap around your body as she finds your lips again. The kiss is passionate, but short, your mouth leaving hers to trail down her chest, your mouth attaching to her nipple. She places a hand on your head, urging you to continue as her other hand slams behind her on the counter in a bid to keep upright. You waste no time showering her chest with attention, pulling her hardened nipples by your teeth before soothing them with your tongue. Natasha tugs at your hair, urging you where she wants and you grumble out a laugh, her need boosting your ego. She’s thoroughly hot and bothered by this point, her chest flushed and heaving and her pupils blown with lust. You figure it’s not the time to tease, your lips trailing down her abdomen with wet kisses until you reach her slacks. You unbutton them quickly, letting them slide down her legs before tossing them in the corner. Natasha reaches for you again, her hand tangling into your hair and pulling you up harshly. You grip onto her waist, kissing her hungrily. The woman reaches around you, unclipping your bra and ducking her head down to get her mouth on your chest. She sucks on your flesh, avoiding your sensitive buds for the time being as she marks you. You sigh happily, placing your hand on Natasha’s head as she leaves soft bruises in her wake. You jump when she finally takes your nipple in her mouth, the reality of the situation finally hitting you.

My professor has my tits in her mouth.

My HOT professor has my tits in her mouth.

She trails her mouth back up your neck, placing a soft kiss to your jaw before taking it between her fingers and forcing you to look at her. Her grip is firm, but you don’t mind, essentially deciding that you’d let her do whatever she wants to you at this point.

“Y/N,” the professor says, “Your mouth.” Her eyes flick down to where your hips are pressed into hers, a smirk creeping up her swollen lips.

You try to hide your excitement, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before dropping to your knees. Your hands run up and down Natasha’s thighs, slowly guiding both of her legs to rest on your shoulders. Natasha scoots her hips closer to your face, her lip tucked between her teeth as she waits in anticipation. You place a row of kisses up her leg, pausing once you get to her panties and looking up at her for confirmation. She nods hurriedly and you quickly remove her last article of clothing. You curl your arms around her thighs, locking her in as you finally inhale her scent. You lick a strip through Natasha’s folds, eliciting a whimper from the woman before you. You take your tie, circling your tongue through her heat, avoiding her clit as she gets more and more desperate. You place a light kiss on her clit, pulling your head back and bringing a single finger to her cunt.

“Don’t tease,” Natasha growls out.

You just smirk back at her, holding eye contact as you slide a finger into her. Your finger curls and you add a second, Natasha’s head falling back in a low groan.

“Look at me,” you mutter, and she does. Lazily lifting her head back up and locking her eyes on yours. You lean down, harshly sucking her clit into your mouth, your gaze never leaving hers. You relish the way her jaw falls open at your ministrations, her biceps flexing as her hands desperately grip the counter beneath her. You pick up the pace, pumping your fingers in and out of the woman faster as you lap at her clit. Natasha’s a mess, struggling to keep her eyes open and on you as her stomach begins to contract. You give her a particularly hard thrust of your fingers, hitting her sweet spot and causing her hips to buck up into your face.

“That’s it baby,” she says under her breath, her legs coming to wrap around behind you, locking you in with her ankles. You let out a moan into her pussy and it sends her hips jerking up, the pleasure bordering on too much. You can tell Natasha’s close, her breathing frantic as her thighs begin to clamp around your head.

“Come for me,” You say into her center, momentarily removing your mouth from her clit before taking it back between your lips and sucking. Natasha comes, hard. A loud moan rips through her body as she shakes beneath you, her eyes never leaving yours as she comes to. You shallowly give her your fingers as she rides out the waves of her orgasm, pulling the last few tremors from her body as you trace circles over her clit with your tongue. Natasha’s body goes slack, slouching back towards the wall as she pushes her hair out of her face. You slide up her body, pulling her into a soft kiss as her breathing becomes less labored. Natasha groans as she tastes herself on your tongue.

“My place,” she mutters into your lips. “Let me return the favor.”

She can feel the curve of your smile at her words. You won’t be making that coffee run with Wanda tomorrow morning.

#natasha romanoff #Natasha Romonova #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x y/n #marvel #wlw love #wlw #wlw smut

[pinktom]

Hi, what do you think about the recent rise of tomarry haters who ship bellamort?

I have a feeling this one won’t go over as well as my anti-Tomione post.

However, what the server wants, the server gets. 🐍

If you like Bellamort, if you will be offended by opinions that are anti-Bellamort, do not expand this post.

I am not putting this in the tags; I am not shoving this in anyone’s face. Don't click it. Don't send me pissy anons about it. Unfollow me and move on.

Background context

First of all: a concession. I know every Voldemort-related passage in Harry Potter like the back of my hand. If you don’t think Bellamort can be found in the subtext, you’re either biased or due for another close reading. Unlike Tomione (which almost always depends on a complete fabrication of their personalities) and Tomarry (which requires a significant tone shift from the books), you can easily write Bellamort as an extension of canon. 

I don’t hate Bellamort because it’s nonsense. I hate it because it is not nonsense; it feels very real. Voldemort’s and Bellatrix’s relationship, in the canon text, is that of Master and Servant—and for me personally, any such dynamic between a man and a woman is disgusting and I have absolutely no desire to read it.

Here's some specific icks it gives me.

Fanon Bellatrix is bullshit; her real form is repulsive, whiny, and pitiful

There’s this common fanon misconstruction of Bellatrix that portrays her as a thoughtful femme fatale who enjoys a close, intimate relationship to Voldemort on nearly equal terms. I find this tacky at best.

Really, Bellatrix is a pathetic, sniveling wimp who would crawl around on her hands and knees and bark like a dog if Voldemort asked her to do so. She’s not strong; she’s weak-willed and pathetic. She's the kind of pathetic woman who accompanies a man on his killing spree and kills her own kids for said man’s affection.

This passage from Order of the Phoenix pretty concisely captures their dynamic.

Also, Tomarrymort writers love to make her past love of Voldemort and (*pukes*) it makes my tummy ache

Ever find yourself reading a fascinating Tomarry fic only for—midway in—Voldemort to reveal his true love is Bellatrix?* Or wax poetic about how beautiful she is, how special to him she is?

It's 2024. I immediately close the fic when this happens. If I’m reading a Tomarrymort fic, I don’t give a fuck about Voldemort’s past domestic abuse trysts with the most spineless woman in the entire HP series.

And the kicker is . . . for what? Because Bellatrix proved herself to Voldemort by licking his boot and wiping his asshole? Please do not try and convince me she is a sinister spooky gal, she plainly isn’t. She’s an embarrassing blithering pissant who does not foil any of Voldemort’s traits.  

And PLEASE do not try and convince me she offers Voldemort something Harry doesn't in terms of being an equal partner or someone he respects, because I cannot fathom how the woman who squeals "MASTER MASTER PLEASE I'M SORRY DON'T HURT ME - I'll wash your anus with my tongue, PLEASE master!" is somehow more respectable than brave, upright, dignified Harry.

*I’m NOT referring to a specific fic. I have been in this fandom since 2011, and I have read it dozens of times, on FF and AO3 alike.

Lastly - they're not a pretty picture

I'm just going to say it... you know those people you kinda knew in high school who now post about their kinky sex life on Facebook? The girl who posts "Daddy 🥺 ?" and the dude responds "Yes, kitten?" in the comments? The chick who has no shame in posting her wolf-tail butt plug or joining a bunch of kinkster groups?

The girl who later ends up getting the shit beaten out of her by said repulsive scrote (no shock) and posting about it on Facebook only to repeat the cycle again and again?

That's literally what Bellamort makes me think about. It's not even like it's deeply upsetting so much as it's disappointing: A reminder of the lowest very promising, very beautiful women can get for men who ought to be curb-stomped and thrown in a ditch.

Tbh the best ending for Bellatrix in canon would've been if she disemboweled and slaughtered Voldemort for ruining her fucking life with his ridiculous tacky cult. He's my baby, but he's a vile scrote first, and I wish Bellatrix had realized what a toxic, life-draining narcissistic psychopathic moron he was. But alas, she too was a pathetic worm.

#anti bellamort #shipping wars #server #asks #i have covid and i'm really mean rn #tw domestic abuse #tw brutally mean #tw anti men hate speech

[moonyinpisces]

I would like to hear your fic icks!

oh i love complaining, sure! these are surefire things that’ll get me to tap out of a fic:

brat aziraphale. soooo off putting. let him be a bit of a rascal but oh my god don’t make crowley some sort of dfp brat tamer who keeps aziraphale in line. in fact, any bratty tendencies aziraphale has ends up making him more dominant in their dynamic always

crowley isn’t cool. how uncool he is actually makes him cool, but if you write him cool he just comes off completely out of character. he thinks he’s undeniably cool, though

crowley with stiletto black nail/claws, pointy ears, fangs, etc. i like a painted nail as much as the next gal but SHORT! stop making him monstrous!

explicitly ace azcrow. need i even elaborate

on the opposite side, look at them and try to tell me they’re not the most vanilla couple you’ve ever met. aziraphale recites poetry and crowley cries. sometimes it’s vice versa. it can take them either 3 minutes or 3 days

if you are to use snake crowley at all, use it sparsely and nearly entirely in references. he is a snake ONCE in the show, the only time it was necessary to BE a snake. be careful but i wouldn’t click out of a fic immediately if snake crowley is done tastefully

crowley is allowed to eat but it must always be purposeful. in fact, he’s as hungry as aziraphale is. he’s in an edging contest with himself in regards to self-denial. keep that in your mind at all times

#this list doesn’t include the ones i would get harpooned for sport by some of you #this turned into a characterization guide near the end lmao #ask box

[backwzzds]

some of my witting icks:

i’ve been writing for almost 10 years and idc what anyone says, grammar & punctuation are VERYY important when writing. idcidc if i see u use “where” instead of “were” im clicking tf off the story bc we too mf grown for this now…i be letting “to” and “too” slide cuz it be beating some of yall ass but we have GOT to learn the proper “you’re” and “your” (yall favorite one to fuck up) and “where” “we’re” and “were.”

and lets be fr, if ur putting abbreviations in ACTUAL fics that arent text format (ie: tf for “the fuck” or wyd for “what you doing”) IT IRKS MEEEE AND I SEE THIS SHIT IN SO MANY AOT FICS LIKE THEY ARE NOT SPELLING OUT THESE WORDS WHEN THEY TALK JUST WRITE IT DOWN FULLY LORDDDD. if its not text/social media format, it looks ugly and incomplete im sorry 🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️🧍🏾‍♀️

example: “tf are you looking at?” eren said with a balled fist.

don’t do that ^

ALSO PUNCTUATIONS. i thought we big enough to know that dialogue (anything a character says) goes in “ ” ???? whyyyy are yall writing these big ass paragraphs (another issue) w multiple people speaking AND NO DIALOGUE MARKS OR TAGS ???? now imma really click off this story cuz dpmo. remember that each time a new person/character speaks, ITS A NEW PARAGRAPH/LINE

ex:

“hey,” sasha said.

“hey did you go to the party?” mikasa asked.

connie kissed his teeth. “that party sucked ASS.”

it’s easier to let it slide on more casual posts/shitposts bc i dont even give a damn ab my punctuation like that when im shitposting…not unless the ‘ makes a difference between the intended word(s)

(ie: were & we’re, two VERY diff things)

sure, it’s “write however u want” but pls, let’s at least follow the international book of grammar and punctuation pls 😭 this is not me hating, this is not me shaming, this is me simply sharing knowledge bc i also used to make these mistakes until i learned better!!

#lora’s shit talk! ੈ✩‧₊˚ #good morning america #take this as u will #just some of my icks to see as a writer

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

I know this is a really stupid question, but why is the Jan stevens kink (I don’t know what it’s called sry) kinda upsetting for some people? Like, toxic or whatever. I totally respect it, it’s just not clicking in my head if that makes sense? I’m just not totally clear on what’s wrong with it. I haven’t thought about it much though, so maybe that’s on me. I just thought maybe you could enlighten me, ‘cause now I’m curious. Thx 💟

hi!! ofc, happy to explain it!

the way i wrote it, it's really not extreme -- and that's the level of that kink (i generally referred to it as alvinolagnia -- a belly/midriff partialism -- will include some info at the end of this post) that i was personally comfortable with writing. there is nothing wrong with that kink per se -- however! if we are talking specifically about feederism there is a lot of..... let's say... disturbing stuff associated with it. in certain spaces (online and irl) a lot of feeders are men who enjoy forcing their female partners to eat absurd amounts of food and gain an absurd amount of weight -- so much so that they need to rely on their partner to do things for them. it also involves those men calling those women pretty nasty slurs, and a popular one is to call your partner a pig. a lot of fatphobia combined with misogyny in that community, but also glorification of obesity (we are talking about people who gain so much weight they can barely walk by themselves anymore). it's..... a lot.

HOWEVER. you could argue that most kinks have their extreme sides. in the bdsm community, for example, you could have a light dom/sub dynamic in the bedroom, or you could be someone's full time slave, have your partner control every aspect of your life, including your finances etc. so basically, another person practically owns you. that's also real icky haha. but then again, we all like to read a nice smutty fic with light dom/sub dynamics, right? and i think there's no harm in that.

what rubs people the wrong way about this kink is that it can get real disturbing and extreme real fast -- and a lot of people who are into it ARE on the extreme side. however, there are definitely people who just enjoy some harmless belly kink stuff, but i feel like they are not as loud as the disturbing part of that crowd haha, so people don't tend to pay attention to them. for them, belly kink + feederism is immediately something very extreme.

i think a lot of the ick people feel for that particular kink is because of deep fatphobia that runs in our society. people would literally rather drink piss than feel bloated for one (1) hour haha. bc when you look at it, how is that ickier than like... feet? or piss? or even breeding, which is a very popular kink online lol (also with that one you could find heaps of Problematique(TM) stuff, such as forced pregnancy stuff etc.). or like plain old choking. how is choking less disturbing that like... being bloated and getting off on it lol. so that's for sure something to think about.

so basically, the overall take would be -- every kink can range from fun, mild, and harmless to very disturbing/borderline abuse -- some kinks can skew into the icky territory much faster than others though, so that is also something to keep in mind.

so, there -- those were yourlocaldisneyvillain's hot takes for today. enjoy kink!week :))) see you tomorrow :*

(that being said -- ppl are allowed to dislike or be grossed out by any kink for any reason. there doesn't have to be anything deeper to it) some info about alvinolagnia/ belly stuffing/feederism that i already included in the jan fic is under the cut!

Alvinolagnia is another term for a belly fetish. Alvinolagnia is a partialism in which an individual is sexually attracted to the midriff or belly. The belly is widely considered as an erogenous region, meaning it holds multiple nerve endings that make it sensitive to various sensations. Therefore, having a belly fetish usually coincides with belly-related sexual acts including but not limited to touching/rubbing the belly region, using sex toys and other objects to stimulate the belly region, rubbing one's belly against a partner's belly, or licking or sucking the navel.

A kink that closely relates to the belly fetish is belly stuffing — which is when people get a psychological thrill and sexual pleasure from the idea of eating a lot — doing it themselves, or witnessing someone else do it.

Belly stuffing can be related to feederism. Feederism is a fat fetish subculture in which individuals eroticise weight gain and feeding. Feeders are individuals who are sexually aroused by feeding their partners and encouraging them to gain weight. Feederism encompasses people being turned on by feeding, belly stuffing, weight gain, fat, and often, dominance and submission.

#i got an ask! #kink!week

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Roy/Jamie prompt: Set during S1 where Roy is an Alpha and Jamie is an Omega. After hours they get into another fight that escalates into a full on brawl, which then turns into mind-blowing, angry sex. They get so passionate that their fangs come out and then both bite each other's necks, right on the mating gland, forming an irreversible link between them. Roy somehow manages to get them to his place where they continue to make love to each other all night. Thankfully tomorrow is a rest day. They wake up bruised and basically married. Instead of rejecting each other, instinct takes over as they want to take care of each other like newly bonded mates are supposed to. Roy's afraid of being to stifling and clingy, only to realize Jamie thrives on it, craves him above all others. They started out enemies, and somehow turn into each other's whole world, flaws and all.

Ohh I’ve never written alpha/beta/omega before

I know some people don’t like it but boo lame it’s better then some au’s

So here’s the tw- alpha/beta/omega dynamics (maybe untraditional?? Idk whatever.)

When Jamie wakes up he’s warm. He feels fucking fabulous.

His neck hurts but that’s what happened when you get a mating bite.

Oh fuck him he’s got a mating bite. From Roy no less.

He couldn’t be happier.

He remembers Roy pressing a kiss to his shoulder and telling him he’d be back with breakfast.

Jamie rolls up and looks around for some sort of pants. He might have an exhibitionist streak but he does know that he gets cold easily. He catches sight of the sweater Roy had on yesterday. It’s a dark green. Should smell like him.

Jamie pulls it on over his head. It fits perfectly.

He wanders down to the kitchen where he smells bacon. Roy is at the stove in sweatpants.

God his back is incredible. Jamie goes over and presses up behind Roy. He licks up the side of his neck. “Morning.”

Roy let’s out a small growl. “Morning pretty boy.”

Jamie hums. “Smells good.” He gets a snort from Roy. “Me or the food?” Jamie lightly nips the other side of Roy’s neck. “Why not both.”

Roy smiles at him. He’s gently pushed to the counter and told to stay. Thank god it’s the weekend and they can just cuddle and fuck like animals all they want.

-

It’s a few hours later and they’ve talked everything over. Jamie sighs. It’s been a fabulous morning but he wants a shower.

He brushes his hand over Roy’s head from where it’s laying on his stomach. “Wanna shower now.”

Roy nods. He sits up and leans against the other arm of the couch. Jamie tilts his head and stands.

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

Roy blinks up at him. “Figured I’ve mauled you enough. You deserve some alone time.”

Jamie blinks at his mate.

He slides onto Roy’s lap. It makes the older man startle lightly. He grabs Roy’s face. Makes him have eye contact.

He gently shakes Roy’s head. “Why would I want to be alone. You’re my mate I literally never have to be alone again. And I don’t want to be alone ever again.”

Roy stares at Jamie. Shit. How does he have such the perfect mate. “You sure? Ive had people tell me I’m annoying about affection multiple times.”

Jamie gets a murderous look in his eye. “And I’ll fucking end them. I want you to be ‘annoyingly affectionate’ Roy I’m annoyingly affectionate.”

Roy shakes his head, hard to do since Jamie’s fingers still have a grip but he manages. “No you fucking aren’t. You’re perfect wanna be around you all the time.”

Jamie leans down and presses a kiss to Roy’s lips. “There. Problem solved. We’re doing everything together for a while. Including that shower I wanted. Get up come on.”

Roy can only obey. He is in awe of his mate how perfect of a mate he got. Roy knows it’s a formality but he wants to marry Jamie. He’ll bring that up another time when he doesn’t have Jamie wet in the shower waiting for him.

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #if this is your ick just don’t click! #jamie x roy #royjamie #roy x jaime #roy kent x jamie tartt #hope you like it!! #alpha/beta/omega verse

[lesservillain]

Hurt/no comfort, I won’t do it, I won’t read it unless it’s like rly fast like a blurb and then I regret it instantly on the rare occasion that I do. I am SENSITIVE. It’s not necessarily an ICK I guess it’s just something that I don’t like and I will not click on personally. I get my feelings hurt fr I’m like “wait I thought you loved me fictional man that doesn’t exist?🥺” I read fics to escape the sad I don’t wanna get sad from the fic.

Also I agree about the condoms like AT LEAST TAG IT, I’ll be sooo into the fic like thousands of words deep and they’re finally fucking and then all the sudden left field he pulls out a CONDOM? It kills my boner INSTANTLYY. Or when she’s like “it’s okay I’m on birth control” NO JUST FUCK!! I know some people prefer if there’s a condom so absolutely no hate to them but it’s just not for me lmao

I couldn’t say it better myself. The only hurt/no comfort i read is anything by @/neonghostlights (dont want to tag and bother her) because thats my boo thang and i gotta support her (but bee if you see this who hurt you)

I can also only handle so much angst in general unless i’m the one writing it lol

FUCK THE CONDOMS IM GOD HERE AND I’LL DECIDE YOUR FATE!!!

#bunnie’s inbox 💌 #my life is already a hurt/no comfort #why would i want to read more things like it

[littlemelaninfics]

@mikeyss1ut @yourmommygay

HAVE YOUR AGE SOMEWHERE OR GET BLOCKED

For those of you wondering where I am, I have no motivation to write as my wishes are not being respected. @littlemelaninfics IS FOR ADULTS 18+. I will increase it to 21+ if I have to.

I just got the full on ICK that a 14 year old CHILD IS READING MY SMUT ABOUT SEXUAL ABUSE. Not only reading it, but having the AUDACITY to interact with it. Are you fucking kidding me?

And the 17 year old is no better. GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! I do NOT want to imagine Chris looking at a 17 year old’s pierced clitoris. This is where fiction gets separated from reality.

I am ALL for free expression when it comes to art and writing is a true art. So when a creator makes a character underage, it’s because it’s FICTION. You would NOT find those types of books in a high school library (unless in the curriculum) so why the fuck are you interacting with them like it’s okay?

I AM A 24 YEAR OLD (next week) GROWN ASS WOMAN. I DO NOT HAVE CHILDREN OF MY OWN SO WHY WOULD I WANT TO INTERACT WITH YOU OR HAVE YOU INTERACT WITH ME. WE HAVE NOTHING IN COMMON.

It’s shit like this (and low interactions such as reblogs 😅) that is tanking tumblr writing. No one 18+ wants to write about smut or heavy angst in case a child reads it and then lets you know they read it. I can’t control what you consume, but the second you interact with me is when I get involved.

I don’t know who needs to hear it, but minors reading smut and violent smut at that, about grown ass men is just as creepy and disgusting as a grown man doing it to a minor. (Click the link)

STAY THE FUCK IN YOUR LANE

#cali writes #minors fuck off #minors dni #go awaaaay #dark chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans #dark dylan o'brien #dylan o’brien #dylan o'brien smut

[cultofsappho]

Trope Grading Game

Thank you so much for tagging me @cosmicalart !

This is like The Good Place’s point system and i’m living for it

Rules: How much do these tropes affect your decision to click on a fic?

-10 -> very dissuaded 

0 - don’t care either way 

+10 -> very enticed 

nope -> if it’s a hard no and you’d never click on a fic with that tag or or you even have the tag blocked or you’d insta click out of the fic if it wasn’t tagged. 

Bonus points for explaining the rating and whether it’s conditional.

Age gap: -10

Just no. It makes me uncomfortable like 95% so i usually skip it now 

Codependency: +8

Yesss every fic is better with a mutual “I need you like I need air” type of energy

Obsession/Possessiveness, jealousy: +1

I like a dash of it, but too much makes me ick

Opposites (grumpy/sunshine etc): +10

yes yes yes yes yes mhmm yes yes yes 

Enemies to lovers, Enemies with benefits: +10

i'm on my hands and knees i swear to god yes! i want mess! i want complicated emotional turmoil that they’re falling for the absolute worst person to fall for and falling despite themselves! 

Friends with benefits: +1

VERY mid. don’t mind it dont care about it really, probably wouldn’t click unless other tags are good

Sex to feelings: +4

Can be very very good!! but if it's rushed it can be disappointing hahaha

Fake dating/relationship: -5

Nah, maybe, but nah

Friends to lovers: +4

yeah yeah yes

Found Family: +50

Gimme!!! Slaps every. damn. time!

Hurt/Comfort: +100 

HNNGNHUHHHHAWOOGAH I'm already cryingg

Love Triangle: -50

I don't have time for this

Poly, open relationships: 0

heavily depends on the ship. the only poly ship I'm reading lately is in the atla fandom, sokka/zuko/suki. and even then I've only read a few of these fics

Mistaken/hidden identity: +10

Yesssssssss addicted to this shit I'll read ten identity reveals a day and never get tired of it

Monsterfucking: -10

not my thing

Pregnancy: -9

also not my thing, but I've read it the past and felt very meh or ugh about it the whole time

Second Chance: 0

no strong feelings one way or the other

Slowburn: 0

lately I don't have time for long fics, I like slowburns, but they need patience which I don't have rn lmaoo

Soulmates: +10

FUCK YEAH and wanna write one sooo bad too

no pressure tagging the mutuals <3  @lazybug16 @penna-nomen @14carrotghoul @just-some-bookworm @rwrb2 @sherryvalli @rebelatnight @daisymae-12 @theresnothinglikethis @cosmicalart @fortunatefires and anyone else who wants to try!

#tag game #ao3

[zeltqz]

Any writing icks I should stay away from?

These r just my personal icks that make me click off the fic if I see them.

1) anything to do with blushing. No I’m not going to go bright red because someone kissed me. Just picturing my face as bright red makes me mad cuz I’ve got brown skin and it’s just no. It makes me cringe.

Other things you can say instead is “heat rushed to your cheeks” because that makes more sense. Everyone does that when they’re flustered. You may not physically see it because of your skin tone but it happens. Instead of describing it as red just describe the feeling instead. It makes it better to read and feel the emotions instead of just saying it

2) if it’s an x reader PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD don’t describe the reader. It makes me so angry because it’s supposed to for the READER. ME. US. WHOEVER READING but they describe YN as some short blonde.

Firstly I’m 5’10 so where? Secondly not a single blond strand on my head. So where’s the inclusivity?

If you want to write a fanfic with a blonde 4’11 reader you go do that. Nobody will care. But label it correctly. It’s an OC. not an x reader.

The amount of times I’ve read a fic of an x reader but they describe the characters weight and eye colour like bro stop that. Just label it oc and go

3) when people say anything but cock and dick in their smut. What the fuck is a wand.

Yes I’ve seen people say wand or staff like this is Harry Potter on Wattpad. Just stick to the general terms PLEASE.

4) generic smutty sentences like “ur tongues tangled together” I used to rinse this statement but now it just makes me cringe because why are tongues tangling? This ain’t a slip knot.

I have a vivid imagination so when I see stuff like that I picture a cartoon tongue tangled in a knot and I just can’t finish the story anymore cuz I’m cringing

Like this

AND “TONGUES FOUGHT FOR DOMINANCE” is another one that makes me cringe because why am I now picturing tongues sword fighting in someone’s mouth?

This isn’t a world war 3 there is no need for all that

Also shit like “she tasted like strawberries” (yes I’ve seen ppl say that). If your pum pum tastes like strawberries that is not normal and you most definitely are on the verge of an infection.

Like I said before, I have a vivid imagination so when I see statements like these they make me picture other things and I get turned off or grossed out

That’s all I have for now. Once again this is all my opinion lmao and I don’t hate anyone that does any of these things I just likely will not read fics with that stuff

Don’t take anything personally 🧘🏾‍♀️