#as if that fucking means i want to shag them

[baphometsss]

my childfreeness is projecting again so here, have some of my childfree headcanons

Solas is sterile because he's old as fuck and his balls just don't make baby batter like they used to (Trick lk confirmed this teehee 🩷)

Did they ever work though?? I mean he literally just manifested as a fully grown man like all the ancient elves did. Iirc that's why modern elves don't have DNA. We never seem to find out when they started having babies naturally so it's possible he was always sterile (kind of like in TRC when Ronan pulls people out of his dreams and they don't even have internal organs)

Taleani Lavellan has always liked spirits and animals more than people because they're kind of uncomfortable around kids and people in general so not breeding is a very natural choice for them

Not to say they don't care about them at all bc she had a duty as her clan's midwife and helped all the new mothers out etc but she just doesn't have a clue how to talk to kids and has no desire to learn

Solas also doesn't know wtf to do around kids and either ignores them or talks to them like they're fully grown adults while they stare back at him blankly

He also canonically doesn't like loud noises and bollocks Blackwall for training the kids right outside his room in DAI

"Not now kitten Daddy's lamenting his war crimes and I have to talk him down again"--Lavellan probably

Being childfree makes them focus on each other a whole lot more. Makes me think about that old photo of some soldier returning from war to meet his kid for the first time ever and just shoving it under his arm upside down so he can kiss his wife. That would be Solas as a dad

Seriously they would have 0 time for that kid while the other was present . Tough luck kiddo your mother's wearing a low cut top today and her titties look divine. Go play in the Fade and don't come back for at least a couple of hours

Straight up Gomez and Morticia Addams if the kids weren't there

Absolutely fucking awful parents . No time to be normal when there are blighted titans to deal with

Also they can explore the Fade much further and learn so much more without having to get a spirit babysitter in

They can nerd out over all the new discoveries they make and do all the dangerous experiments they like without having to worry about the safety of a person with no sense of danger

They can have impromptu shags on the kitchen table and not worry about getting walked in on and scarring that kid mentally with their outrageous sex life

When they're stressed from a hard day of titan soothing and they just want to relax and talk they don't have to fight the bedtime battle or deal with whatever stinky mess the kid made

Lavellan doesn't have to worry about losing her teeth, or becoming incontinent, or having any of the myriad health issues that arise from pregnancy and childbirth with limited resources to do anything about it

Solas can teach Lavellan how to take a big wolf form like him once he binds her to his life force so they can live forever and it won't endanger the kid

Taleani doesn't give a shit about having a legacy but who needs one anyway if you live forever?

No kids stuff littering the house means more space for books and dangerous artefacts and frescoes that won't get ruined by sticky hands

No arguments about how to best raise a child. Just arguments about philosophy and war crimes

No kids mean they can sleep all they want and have epic dream escapades without interruptions

Just. No kids in the Fade prison allowed. Or the Fade. Or within a 500 mile radius of Solas and Lavellan. Seriously who the hell thought that was a good idea in the first place

[sandinmybed]

i want to turn anon back on because i feel like people would send me asks more but every time i turn it on i get insane anons sending me lesbophobic hate because i stan dudes

[p0orbaby]

Reader being Beth Mead’s little sister & is dating Leah. Beth finding them in a compromising position/situation (shagging) 🤣🤣 feel like this would make a funny story

-

Beth has always been overprotective. It’s in her nature, like her knack for nutmegging defenders or her inexplicable hatred of pineapple on pizza. Growing up, you couldn’t so much as look at someone without Beth launching into her overbearing big-sister routine: “Who’s that? What do they want? Do I need to have a word?”

So naturally, when you start dating Leah Williamson—her teammate and captain of England—you make a pact with her to keep it under wraps for a bit. Just until Beth gets used to the idea.

That was six months ago.

Which explains why you’re currently in Beth’s spare room, shirt on the floor, Leah’s hair sticking to her face, and your brain short-circuiting as the door slams open.

“What the actual fuck?” Beth’s voice slices through the air like a referee’s whistle.

“Beth!” you shriek, scrambling for the duvet, which is already half-tangled around Leah.

“Mead-o,” Leah starts, holding up her hands like she’s negotiating a hostage situation, except she’s also very much topless. “I can explain—”

“Explain what?!” Beth snaps, her face a mix of outrage and something dangerously close to amusement. “Why you’re shagging my little sister in my house?”

“This isn’t—” you start, but you’re not even sure where that sentence is going.

“This isn’t what?” Beth interrupts, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched in that infuriatingly smug way she’s perfected over the years. “What it looks like? Because it looks like my friend is banging my sister on my spare bed”

Leah winces. “Don’t say ‘banging’”

“Sorry. Would you prefer I say ‘fornicating’? ‘Getting it on’? ‘Knocking boots’?”

“Beth!” you yell, throwing a pillow at her, which she bats away with infuriating ease.

The room falls into a horrifically awkward silence. You can hear Leah’s breathing beside you, shallow and uneven, and somewhere in the distance, the hum of Beth’s washing machine hitting its spin cycle.

“How long?” Beth finally asks, her tone softer now but no less accusatory.

“Six months,” Leah admits, sitting up and grabbing her shirt from the floor. “We were going to tell you—”

“Oh, were you?” Beth cuts her off, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Before or after I walked in on this absolute nightmare?”

“Can you not call my love life a nightmare?” you snap, pulling on your own hoodie.

“Baby, it’s her love life now too,” Leah mutters under her breath, which earns her a withering glare from Beth.

Beth sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose like she’s trying to summon the strength not to kill either of you. “This is mental. Fucking mental”

“Beth, come on,” you say, standing up and crossing the room to her. “It’s not like we planned for you to walk in on us”

“Oh, that makes it better, does it?” Beth fires back, but her tone is losing its edge.

Leah stands, hands stuffed in her pockets, looking more sheepish than you’ve ever seen her. “Beth, look. I know this is… not ideal. But I love her. And I would never hurt her. You know that”

Beth stares at Leah for what feels like an eternity, then at you, then back at Leah. Finally, she sighs. “Fine. But if I hear anything—”

“You won’t,” you both say in unison.

Beth shakes her head, muttering something about needing a drink, and leaves the room.

As the door closes, you collapse back onto the bed, groaning. “Well, that went well”

Leah snorts, climbing in beside you. “Could’ve been worse”

“How?”

“She could’ve filmed it for blackmail.”

You shove her, but you’re laughing now, the tension broken.

Later, when you’re all sitting around the kitchen table, Beth pours herself a very large glass of wine and declares, “For the record, I still think this is weird”

“Noted,” Leah says, raising her tea in mock salute.

“And don’t think this means I’m going easy on you at training,” Beth adds, pointing at Leah with a fork.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Leah replies, grinning.

And as deranged and mortifying as the whole thing was, you can’t help but feel relieved. Because if Beth didn’t truly care, she wouldn’t be sitting here, threatening Leah with a fork.

[pedge-page]

Hiii the breastfeeding question that can be used as a question or to a fic I was just curious because I love the sexual ones but I was like would u do one just a sweet one Joel had stressful day at work or Joel can’t sleep and needs the boob to help him and then it comes into a routine every night before and when he wakes up has milk and I’m also loving the mommy fics too. But don’t worry on the response time 💓

Routine

Joel Miller x F!Reader

warnings: breastfeeding, somewhat sub!Joel, not sexual but still mature content

`18+ ONLY

- - - -

He doesn’t even have the energy to slam his truck door. The frame is bent at the top, making it close unevenly. Two, three, sometimes four or five tries before it actually clicks close. He’s been meaning to get it fixed, hell, even just take a hammer and knock it somewhat back into shape, but he’s just too fucking exhausted today.

He lays his head back against the headrest, wrinkled eyes closed upwards. His nose involuntarily wrinkles: the cushions smell like smoke too. Tommy borrowed the truck yesterday and lit up his packs. The little fucker. 

He doesn’t get weekends off. He doesn’t get 8 hour shifts. He gets whatever shovel, hammer, nail and mud that needs dished out. He bears it, grunts it, heaves and shovels until his bones are cracking. 

He needs home.

When Joel gets through the garage door, he sees the living room lamp light on. The girls must already be asleep. You were probably staying up awake for him. Suffering, because of him.

Fuck. He shouldn’t think about it like that. He’s grateful for you. For many reasons.

He feels shy, hesitating at the door, pretending he’s dropped something because he’s a little too embarrassed to ask this one thing of you. 

“Joel?” You call out softly. It’s like swan-song to his ears, delicate and sweet. 

He steps into the room. “Hey.” You tilt your head to the side with a warm, tired smile. 

“You okay?”

He swallows, looking away and rubbing the back of his head as nonchalantly as possible. 

You tsk him with a bemused smile. “C’mere,” you whisper, patting the open cushion next to you for his invitation.

He shuffles towards you, his hole-ridden socks gliding along the shag carpet like a toddler dragging his feet. Joel kisses your forehead, his scruffy chin brushing against your lashes briefly before you grasp his cheeks and urge him to lie next to you. He tosses his jean-clad legs up on the length of the couch, propping his elbow on the seat so that he can face you.

“Bad day?” You hum, kissing his eyelids one at a time. He breathes you in, momentarily feeling lost in your embrace. You nuzzle his nose with yours, his eyes flickering open to meet your gaze again.

“Mmm,” he grunts. It’s clear he doesn’t want to talk about it.

But his eyes drift a bit lower, fingers fiddling with the spaghetti straps of your silk night-top. His pointer traces over its path, knuckles grazing your collarbone as he pulls the strap slowly, exposing a bit more of your chest. He plays with it, like he’s telling you something without words, but still waiting for your say-so.

He glances back up at you through his brows. 

“Will it help you sleep?” You coo.

He nods with big round eyes, his lips leaning forward to press a kiss to your breastbone. 

You stroke his face lovingly, giving him the answer he needed as you and he both reach to pull the edge of your top down, revealing your ample breasts.

He huffs his hot breath over your nipple before blowing cool air like a whistle, loving the way it tenses from the temperature change.  He brushes his thumb over your other as his lips find your nub, kissing it repeatedly. His plush lips wrap so delicately around them, baby kisses spoiling your skin.

“Five minutes. And then to bed, okay?”

He doesn’t want to waste time then.

Joel re-situates himself over you, his forearm holding himself between your thighs. He latches on to your tit, humming around your areola and starting to gently suck. Closing his eyes, he breathes steadily through his nose. Nothing audible yet, but quickly the room fills with the sound of his swallowing as his mouth is filled with your warm breastmilk.

You close your eyes, still twirling his hair with your fingers. He’s not inching for anything more. No quickened case. The two of you fall into an almost hypnotic trance of sleepiness.

His warm tongue massages your breast muscles as he works more milk out of you. He takes almost exactly 2 and a half minutes from one breast, before pulling off with a slight kiss, a droplet of white balancing off his lower lip. He eyes your other breast before putting his mouth on it, eyes closing and repeating his steady sucking. 

It fills his belly so contently. Warm and sweet, traveling from your heated body directly onto his taste buds, down his throat and safely nourishing his stomach. There’s no rush. He knows you’re here, your hand gently yet tenderly placed behind his head, cupping him close so even if he loses himself in you, he knows you’re here to catch him.

If it weren’t for you to let him know its time to get to bed, he’d fall asleep right in your lap, titty still hanging from his mouth with milk pouring over the sides of his cheeks.

It’s been weeks since he’s had such a fulfilling slumber.

The next few days weren’t any easier on his body or mind. But you were never complaining. 

The two of you started settling up right in bed for your nightly routine. Joel resting his head in your lap, letting the milk just fall right onto his tongue thanks to gravity. He’d drink until he was practically snoring. Then you’d stroke his face soothingly, letting him sleep like that for hours until the morning. 

All the guys talked about going home to their wives or girlfriends to unwind. Have dinner. Cuddle. 

He’d wake, shifting your sleeping body into a more comfortable position, laid back while he hungrily undoes your shirt again and starts drinking his breakfast straight from your boobs.

When he’s halfway through the day, he sits in his trailer at the site, wishing you could visit him for lunch. He’d lock everyone out, pull the shades, set you on his lap, and suckle your breasts for his midday snack. He wouldn’t be able to let you go though, grumbling into your chest and wrapping his arms protectively around you like a child unwilling to let go of his mommy.

He does all three with you at the same time, putting him at ease and helping him sleep like the beautiful, caring, nurturing wife you’ve always been.

He hopes he can put another baby in you soon so that people don’t keep wondering why your breasts are still so plump full of milk despite both your kids already being well off breastfeeding… 

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist

[jacaerysgf]

Undeniable Desire

c.w season two spoilers; characters (addam and nettles), mention of dragonseeds (nothing more), loss of virginity (jacaerys) non virgin reader, smut, fingering (fem), oral (fem), p in v, clothed sex ?, possessive jacaerys, not proofread

summary: You are dragonseed and have become good friends with the prince. You think nothing of it and not expecting your desires to lead to anything but when you speak of what you think of your future his truer colors show.

w.c: 1.8k

a.n: anybody else cant stop thinking about bridgerton LMAO, i need to rewatch soon, anyways i hope you all enjoy :3 promise im getting around to requests i just needed to push out this idea 🥰 LOVE YOU GUYS

You finally manage to shake off addam and his drunken rampage with a laugh telling him off. “come on you cant leave yet.” “I am going to bed you fool leave me be.” You knock him upside the head and he groans giving you the opportunity to walk away and turn back to the rest of them with a wave. Chimes of goodnights and sleep well are what your met with and you walk away, feeling eyes burning into you you turn back once more and see him staring at you with an unknown look on his face, taking a drink out of his chalice ignoring alyn next to him who was talking his ear off, not even sparing him a glance as he continues to stare at you.

You turn around attempting to ignore how your stomach burns and your face heats at the thought of him. Jacaerys Velaryon. You just like the rest of your ‘dragonseed’ friends have grown close to jacaerys during your time together. Yet you can’t help but feel their was something different about the way he looked at you and even other people can’t help but notice it either.

‘He is definitely wants to fuck you.’ ‘Nettles!’ The girl next to you laughs before chugging down her wine. ‘Do not say such things.’ Addam walks over and drops down to the spot next to you, ‘what are you two talking about?’ ‘The prince.’ ‘ah and how he wants to shag miss oblivious right here.’ ‘did you guys plan this?!’ You in your frustration rip the cup out of addams hands and chug it. ‘its not our fault he makes it so painfully obvious and you are so painfully oblivious to it.’ You shake your head and keep your gaze at the campfire in front of you. ‘It is not true.’ you don’t see the way the pair look at each other and instead start picking at the grass near you.

Even if it was true it wouldn’t matter, you certainly had no intention of sleeping with him. He was betrothed and he certainly did not seem like the type of man to lay around with any women he saw fit. He was the crowned prince for gods sake the heir to the queen and you were in the middle of a damn succession war feelings be damned and you were certain your friends were just playing jokes on you and he certainly just saw you as a friend.

You think nothing of it as you are getting ready to go to bed, just having put on your night gown after your bath, when the flap of your tent opens and you turn to it alarmed and let out a sigh of relief when you see him. “I am sorry i did not mean to disturb you.” “It is no issue my prince, Do you need something?”

You turn back to the mirror and fiddle around with your hair, eyeing the prince through the mirror. He just stares at you for a moment and takes a drink from his cup, you gulp and look away from him, pushing down your own desires attempting to stop your imagination from running wild. What if he just walked over to you and pushing you against the mirror, ripping off your dress and having his way with you, maybe he would drop to his knees and wrap his lips around your pearl, only letting go until you were withering and begging him to stop.

You shake your head and “Would it be selfish of me to admit i missed you? i feel as though we did not talk much today?” You smile lightly at his words and curse yourself for thinking such terrible things. Of course he simply just wished to see you, as he had been busy with his duties all day, only getting to see you all at the end of they day only for you to leave before getting to say a single word to him.

“You honor me my prince with your time.” He shakes his head with a laugh taking another sip, “i would give you anything in the world.” You flush and look down, fiddling with your dress too embarrassed to move from your place in front of the mirror. Hes just being dramatic you think, he does not mean what he says, especially since he seems to be drinking. “You are too kind my prince.” “Call me Jace i beg of you.” “Would you truly beg me?” “I would get on my knees at your feet and do whatever you asked.” Your knees shake as you press your thighs together, the heat between you legs almost unbearable, a part of you wants to shoo him away so you can put your hand between your legs and take care of yourself or find some poor soul in the camp to relieve yourself with. You don’t, you cannot simply ask him to leave for such selfish reasons, especially since you know deep deep down that if you sought out somebody else you would only be thinking about him.

He seems to realize you don’t plan on saying anything so he begins to speak. “You know they were all talking about something.” You give him an interested look in the mirror and he takes another sip, “About what they were planning on doing after this fight is over. Do you have any thoughts? About what you plan to do?” You look up in thought, “I haven't given it much thought if im being honest.” He hums but says nothing. “Maybe i go off to the reach, it sounds very lovely.” “You would not stay in the keep?” You laugh at his idea and shake your head, “Why would i stay there? What would you miss me?” He says nothing and you don't look at him, instead continue talking, lost in your own imagination. “I would probably travel around for a bit, then find some lord to marry he fuck some babies into me and then i live the rest of my life-” You gasp as your suddenly pushed against the mirror being completely trapped by him, you hadn’t even registered the cup being thrown to the ground.

“My prince?” He flips you around suddenly and your eye to eye with him. His hands grip your waist and pull you directly against him. “You will not leave.” “I don't understand-” “You are not going anywhere you will stay by my side.” He has an animalistic look about him, like he's about to eat you whole, completely bewildered by the idea of you leaving. “I have no place in the keep.” “Your place is by my side.” His words have such a finality and certainty about them as if he's giving you no reason to argue with him. “You are to be married, This is highly inappropriate.” Your words are pushed out like puffs of air as his hands have moved up to your chest, rubbing your nipples through the fabric, you can feel him hardening between your legs. “I shall take you as a my second wife, no one will argue i will be king.” “You are being absurd.” “Do you desire me?”

You pull him into a heated kiss. He quickly reciprocates, his hands moving from your waist to under your night gown and he lets out a delighted hum at the liquid on your thighs. ‘Are you bare?” “I was planning on sleeping.” He moans lightly before he pauses before actually touching, “Do you want this?” you nod feverishly, “Please touch me please.” wasting no more time he runs his fingers along your folds, “This is for me right? and no some stupid pompous lord in the reach.” “yes yes.” You answer him but he doesn't seem to be listening, mumbling to himself in anger. “I hate the lords in the reach, always with each other heads in their asses no way you will marry any of them, let them put a baby in you.” He sticks two fingers inside you, “I wouldn’t i wouldn’t only you.” The pit in your lower stomach grows as you watch in shock him drop to his knees in front of you, his body being lost to your gown as he begins to lick and suck at your clit, his fingers moving quicker to pump in and out of you.

You cannot speak so much of his name. Using one of your hands to cover your mouth to not draw attention to yourself, the other plays with one of your tits, sliding it under your dress. He does not let up, even has you orgasm once then twice, only releasing you after the third time and you fall back, leaning against the mirror with wobbly legs as he keeps a tight grip on you holding you up as he stands. You can see the shine of your own essence on his lips and jaw, you swear you can even see some of it dripping down his neck into his collarbone.

He simply stands there and watches you fiddle around with his pants to free him for a few moments as he licks his lips. “You do not know how often i have thought about this.” You look up at him and give him a smile, “You think of me?” “Every minute of everyday, my waking thoughts and my dreams are only filled with you.”

Before you know it he is pushing into you with a hiss and you chuckle with a delighted moan at his closed eyes and clenched teeth. “First time?” “I may not have been your first but i will be your last.” Giving himself a second to get used to your pulsing warm walls that seem to be sucking him in every second he begins to move. Hes a little sloppy, clearly unsure and if anything a little unconfident about what he’s supposed to do. You place your head on his neck, making sure your lips are right next to his ear and you begin to move your hips to meet his, moaning in his ear only for him to hear.

He gains confidence after a few moments and soon enough you have no longer and need to meet him as he begins to pound into you diligently. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his tunic as the pit in your stomach grows once more. “please tell me your close.” You’re shocked he’s even managed to last this long but nod and he groans in delight. “Please peak please together.”

The mirror behind you is completely covered with a foggy mist just as your eyes are when you finally release. You pray as you catch your breath that you two were quiet enough because you would rather be dead than me made fun of by your friends for finally fucking the prince. But as you feel his seed running out your lips and down your thigh you decide maybe it was worth it.

--

perm jacaerys taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese

[ceilidho]

‘John price with a single mother this’ ‘Simon Riley with a single mother that’

Yeah yeah keep yapping. Now ME? I think we’re seriously undervaluing the sheer perfection that is Johnny fucking MacTavish with a single mother. He’s insufferable. If there’s an opportunity to worm his way into your life permanently, he’s taking it. My brains fixated on newly moved in neighbour reader and Johnny just comes back from being deployed and there’s this pretty woman next door and woah! bonus points! She has a baby!

He’s bouncing off the walls. He’s sick. Almost first thing he does after seeing you come in and out the flats alone a few times is ask if your lad is around. Has to try so hard to pretend to be sympathetic when you say he did a runner when he found you you were pregnant.

He’s actually spectacular with babies. Makes a point of it whenever he sees you with the kid too; always makes her chuckle, goes out of his way to prove that he’s great with kids. Works his way into it, builds a rapport so when you’re called into work for an emergency you just can’t miss the first person you go to for babysitting is Johnny. When you get back, he’s ‘asleep’ on the couch with the baby on his chest and you just don’t have it in you to wake him so you just sit on the other end of the couch and wait. When he does ‘wake up’ it’s a bit late to be kicking him out so you just offer to let him stay night (this becomes a reoccurring theme).

Starts referring to the you and baby as ‘the bairn’ and ‘his lass’ long before he even asks you out. Asked out for drinks? No, sorry. He’s got to go home to his lass and the bairn. Is he busy this weekend? Yeah he’s taking his lass and the bairn to the amusements. Frequently confuses work colleagues and friends alike because when did Johnny have time to A. Get a girl and B. Shag her enough to knock her up???? Will NOT correct anyone who calls him your husband or the baby’s dad, and will actually get upset if you do.

The moment you agree to go out with him he’s micromoving you into his flat (he’s already looking for houses). Has pictures of you and the baby up on his wall in less than an hour of you being his girlfriend. The ‘spare’ crib is already assembled. He’s already picked a ring. He’s insane. He’s in love. He’s known you for like three months. He’s already got the next like two pregnancies planned out (he wants a big family. No he hasn’t asked you yet). Actually kind of deludes himself into forgetting the baby isn’t his biological child. Wdym it’s not his kid it looks exactly like him??? I think he would actually get a little violent if the baby’s father randomly popped up demanding visitation out of the blue. Said baby’s father is not heard from again.

Anyways I’m insane and in love with Johnny MacTavish and his silly deranged ways send tweet

i want you to know that i woke up to get some water in the middle of the night and happened to check my phone and see this and i had to physically hold myself back from answering it at like. 3am.

first of all, i love you. second of all? i love this. i have been repeating "his lass and the bairn" in my head for like five hours now. johnny deluding himself into thinking the baby is actually his? that little gasp you heard was the last little bit of air in my lungs escaping before i expired and died.

there's no way he wouldn't end up saying something batshit crazy like "look at his wee little nose - just like his daddy's huh?" and you'd just be frozen staring at the two of them. maybe your baby's nose does look a little like johnny's but - that doesn't mean - is he just joking or -?

[campgender]

Quim Issue #5 (1994)

[image description: a cropped image of a magazine in black and white. at the top is the question “how can you be a lesbian and sleep with boys?” echoed by the words “call yourself a lesbian.” below this are answers with different text formatting for different responses. a black and white cartoon in the bottom right corner shows two people in skirts saying “what on earth was that about?” “haven’t a clue.”

the responses read:

I hardly ever actually slept with them. Of course you can and many of us do. Having sex with men is a diversion I allow myself every 6-8 years. They become more exciting by being forbidden.

I am a lesbian because of the people I choose to live my life with. Occasionally fucking a man doesn’t change that.

I don’t, I call myself bisexual.

My lesbianism means that I am only physically, mentally and emotionally attracted to women. Though I have had good one-off sex with men in the past, that’s as far as it goes. As far as sexual relationships go they don’t feature.

The few occasions I have done it I have had no problem dealing with it at all. I know I’m a dyke – and one of the benefits of being a dyke is having the choice and occasion to do what the hell you like. If I want to shag a bloke then I will (if nothing else to remind me why I never really wanted to sleep with them in the first place!)

If I was interested enough to commit myself to getting good sex with men, there’d come a point when I’d call myself bi-sexual. Anything I engage and put myself into is something to be proud of, so I’d be proud to call myself bi-sexual. But I don’t feel proud of what I have ever felt or done with men in bed, so the label doesn’t apply.

Easy. I am a lesbian and I sleep with guys every once in a while. Which I know many dykes do but they’re just too scared to admit thinking that women will see them in a different light. Most dykes get the 7 year itch even when they don’t admit it to themselves.

I can’t see a way of sleeping with a man/men on a regular basis and calling yourself a lesbian.

Easy.

I can fall in love with women in a matter of minutes. I have never fallen for a man in the same way.

end image description.]

[cod-fishing]

Thinking about Price being possessive over his boys. Not romantically or sexually (he likes to tell himself), but any time Soap starts chatting about some bear he met in a bar during leave, or Gaz mentions a girl who gave him her number, he can feel himself bristle. He tries to bury it, but it only gets worse after Las Almas, their bonds forged in far too much blood, and he struggles to bite down discouragement for any connection outside their little family.

When soap and ghost finally get together, he can’t figure out which of them he wants to throttle, but the sensation is intense nonetheless. Enough that he can’t stop himself from ordering them to his office and dressing them down so meticulously his old drill Sargent would be proud. They both look defiant. At perfect attention, military perfect in their stance, but fire in both of their eyes. It’s only when Soap, jaw clenched, demands if Price is going to transfer them that the Captain falters.

He sits heavy into his chair, and orders his boys at ease.

“I could never let go of either of you,” he finds himself gritting out through cigar smoke and choking emotions, far too unfiltered, “I just don’t want you boys to get hurt.”

He sees them soften, understanding. Not expecting a real answer, Price asks them their intentions with one another. He doesn’t want either of them to hurt the other, and while he knows they both have hearts of gold, they’ve got a lot of thorns as well. But they talk, and Soap is his usual genuine self and Ghost- Simon, really - is more honest and open than Price has seen him be ever, so…

He says okay. But keep me updated, he says. The good and the bad. They nod, and he assumes he’ll have to pry information out of them, and they move on.

Miraculously, they do keep him updated. Soap comes knocking one day, and Price asks about those reports he sent him off with and Soap says, aye, captain, got those for you, but ah…can I tell you something sweet Ghost did for me today? He’s bursting with joy when Price looks at him properly, and how can he say no to that?

Ghost, too, comes in one day, and asks to speak with the captain. Need some advice, sir. Johnny wants to take me home to his family for the holidays and I’m feeling real conflicted, he says. And they talk it out, fingers playing with the rims of their whiskey glasses. Price gets this feeling in his chest, likes he wants to reach out and trace his fingers somewhere else, but he ignores it.

It keeps happening that way, Price getting deeper and deeper in their relationship. He knows everything about the two together - almost everything. Ghost is on a solo mission one day and soap is moping, and so price pulls him into his office with the intention of getting him plastered and making him go to bed.

Instead, Johnny gets talkative. He should have known.

“God, Price, you wouldn’t believe the things he can do with his mouth. His fingers, too, lord knows where he learned it, but it’s like he took a fucking class on making me cum just from the teasing alone.”

“You’ve heard his voice captain, I mean no wonder I was creaming my pants to be with him so bad, and boy was I right. Downright evil how good it sounds during and early morning shag.”

And, even worse than all that, somehow…

“Well you know me, I like to be the best. So I told him we should start training my throat, so I can actually take his monster cock, the bastard. Did pass out the first time but we’ve been taking it slowly but surely ever since.”

And Price just…he should shut him up, but instead, he just takes it. Just lets the lad ramble about his love, like some lass back at home pinning for her deployed soldier. He hates it, he hates it, he tells himself. But he takes it for Johnny, and for Simon, and for the trust they have put in him.

And when he fists his cock in his quarters later that night, aching from being hard for so long, he can’t help but picture all those filthy things Soap told him.

Maybe, all this time, he was just jealous.

[theemporium]

i love how you write oscar so had to send an idea in! oscar blurb where they're all dressed up and he can't keep his hands off her even though he usually very reserved in regard to PDA, maybe they're at an awards ceremony or clubbing with other boys from the grid?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Lando had practically begged Oscar to join the rest of the grid to come out with them after the season ended.

He was a rookie. He just completed his first full year in Formula one. And, fuck, they did a pretty damn good job compared to where they started. They ended the season on a high. They deserved to go out and get shit-faced drunk now that there were no race weekends or dietary requirements holding them back.

It took a solid twenty minutes of pestering before Oscar eventually agreed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to celebrate with Lando. It was just that clubbing was never really his scene. And truthfully, he was fucking exhausted and just wanted to pass out in his bed with no concerns to wake up unforgivably early in the morning.

But you had been right there with Lando, persuading him that it was the right way to sign off his rookie year in Formula One.

Except to everyone’s shock (maybe not as much yours), Oscar mixed with alcohol and exhaustion seemed to throw every aspect of personal space and PDA right out the window.

“Ease off, mate, she isn’t going anywhere!” Lando barked out in laughter as he watched Oscar reach out for you.

You had disappeared for a few seconds just to help Logan carry some drinks back to the table. You were barely at arm’s length from the booth before Oscar was reaching out, his arms hooking around your waist as he pulled you down onto his lap.

“Oscar, the drinks!” You laughed, but the boy didn’t care about the tequila splashing against his trousers and shoes. He just nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck as he muttered something about missing you under his breath.

“Fucking hell, he’s like—one of those grabby things!” Lando commented, snorting a little at the sight in front of him.

Logan blinked. “You mean a leech?”

Lando nodded furiously. “Yes, he’s one of those!”

“Just wanna hug my pretty girlfriend,” Oscar huffed, his hands splayed on your thighs where your dress had ridden up a little. “Shoot me.”

“I think you’re pretty too,” you whispered back to him, ignoring the exaggerated gag the other boys at the table let out as you turned your head to look at him.

Oscar lifted his head, a massive grin spread across his face and his cheeks flushed from the drinks he had. “Really? You think I’m pretty?”

“The prettiest,” you confirmed as you leaned down to peck his lips.

“Thank you, baby,” he hummed, clearly delighted with your words as his fingers continued to stroke up and down your thighs.

“Ugh, they are basically fucking!”

Oscar rolled his eyes at his teammate and huffed once again. “I’m allowed to fuck my pretty girlfriend!”

“Not in front of me, mate!”

“You wish you could see,” Oscar grumbled, arms tightening around your waist as he pressed his face against your shoulder. You could feel him yawning against your skin, his lips brushing over the straps of your dress despite his attempt to hide it.

“I think we can raincheck on that offer,” you snorted, watching as Lando dramatically shuddered in response. “I want one more dance with my pretty boy before we go, hm?”

Oscar looked up, blinking a few times before smiling. “One more dance.”

You left the booth, hand in hand with Oscar as you made your way to the dance floor with the boy pressed up behind you like he refused to keep any distance between you.

“If they shag in this club, I’ll never sleep peacefully again.”

“Might wanna look away then, dude.”

.

[inksoakedparchment]

Eating habits*

pairing: theo x fem!reader (preferred house)

genre: fluff x smut

tw: body dysmorphia, eating disorder, swearing, sex, my english

word cunt: 1656

summary: theo notices that you aren’t eating lately, wearing oversized clothes and being sad, so he decides to go to your dorm after the curfew

a/n: so i decided to write this little oneshot to comfort myself about my body. i hope you’ll gonna enjoy it. tysm @sunkissedscribbles for the help<3

other works

dividers by @adornedwithlight

Today at dinner Theo only has eyes for you, what you don’t notice. He sees that you’re just playing with your chicken and mashed potatoes. After a while you stand up, wish goodnight to everyone then go back to your dorm. You quickly take a shower, but stop in front of the mirror, checking yourself out. You’re squeezing your belly, thighs, and arm thinking how fat still you are. After a sigh, you put on your pyjamas - an oversized t-shirt and panties. You curl up under the blanket, waiting to fall asleep.

But, someone starts knocking on the door. Without your permission, they enter the room.

“Y/N? Are you awake?” you immediately recognize the voice and turn to him.

“I am, but what are you doing here?” you look at the clock. “Theo it’s almost midnight,” you shake your head in disbelief. He shuts the door behind him and sits down on your bed, next to you.

“Why didn’t you eat at dinner? You’ve only been eating at lunch, I noticed it. What’s the matter?” he asks gently, looking into your eyes. The only light in the room is the moon peeping through the window, which is perfectly enough to see his worried expression.

“Everything’s okay. No need to worry,” you force a smile onto your lips.

“Y/N, I’m not stupid! It’s obvious, that something has been off lately. Tell me, Y/N! Please!” he almost begs.

“It’s… Nothing, really,” you pull the blanket up to cover your legs and stomach.

“For Merlin’s sake,” he puts a hand on your face, caressing it with his thumb. “You’re my best friend, you can tell me anything cara mia,” this fucking nickname again. He can’t imagine how you feel when he calls you this. As your heart is beating more rapidly, his touch sends shivers down your spine.

You have had a crush on him since fifth year. You always see him with prettier and prettier girls and hear about who he had shagged. With time you became more insecure about your body and started skipping breakfast first and, lately dinner too. You lost some weight, but not enough for your liking. You feel like you’re not enough for him or for anyone else. You have always been the fat, funny friend, who’s unloveable and who no one wants - at least you thought you were - you can’t imagine how your best friend can be insecure with that skinny and muscular body she has, but you understand how she feels. But still… The question is on your mind every moment - why? She’s smart and gorgeous, the boys are head over heels for her. She can play the acoustic and the electric guitar, the piano, she can paint, she writes poems and songs. You want to be like her, but you just can’t. Your body doesn’t let you.

“I hate looking in the mirror but I can't stop doing it,” you say quietly, avoiding eye contact. “I feel like a cow with my fat stomach, thighs and arms. My double chin is not adding beauty to the picture either,” you shut your eyes, breathing heavily. “I feel unloveable, I’m not enough. I’m not enough for you, for our friends,” tears start running down your cheeks.

“Cara mia, you’re beautiful. The most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen in my life,” he wipes your tears away, holding your face in his hands. “And what do you mean by 'you’re not enough for me, and for our friends'?”

“Feels like they look at me differently because I’m not…” he patiently waits for you to continue “I’m not skinny. I’m not muscular either, just fat and maybe funny?” you whisper and finally you look into his eyes.

Theo’s eyes are full of tears and as he closes them, tears are running down his cheeks too. Just like on yours.

“Y/N… I’ve never thought you were feeling like this. But what did you mean by not being enough for me?” he caresses your face.

“You are always with gorgeous girls, shagging them and… I just know I never gonna be like them. I won’t be someone who you are going to like, to want, to love,” you whisper the last few words.

“Y-you love me?” he asks, gobsmacked.

“I love you, Theo. For more than a year now,” you take a deep breath.

“Y/N, first; those girls can never compare to you in my eyes, second; you are the most beautiful, gorgeous girl inside and outside I’ve ever seen, and third; I love you too, cara mia,” he kisses your forehead. You just sit there with your jaw dropped and he can see the surprise in your eyes. “Ah and before I forget, every time I see you, my pants are too tight for me,” a half smile appears on his lips.

Without thinking, you grab the back of his neck and press your lips to his. His lips are so sweet and soft. Your tongues are crashing, then dancing in sync with each other passionately. Theo’s hands push the blanket off you, then start roaming all over your body, slipping under your t-shirt and touching you with pure desire and lust. As his hand approach your breast, immediately clip your nipple between his thumb and index fingers. You moan into the kiss, and Theo has already taken off his shirt and unzipped his pants.

“You aren't wearing underwear, amore. I know you were waiting for me,” he whispers in your ear, kissing and sucking your soft skin from your neck to your collarbone.

Theo takes off your t-shirt and a groan escapes from his mouth as he’s admiring your body. You try to cover your chest with your arms, but he pins both of your hands against your head. He leans onto your nipple and bites it gently, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin of yours. You’re moaning, panting and you feel like some kind of instrument. He's playing on you, and you give him the sounds he wants to hear.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love hearing your voice, I want to make you scream my name. And you will,” he grins and starts going lower, giving kisses every centimetre of your stomach, then he finally arrives between your thighs. “I would like to die between your legs, I would let you choke me with your thighs while my face is buried in your pussy. I would die with happiness,” he murmurs while licking your inner thighs.

You’re shaking as he disappears between your legs and when you first feel his warm tongue teasing your clit, the air stuck in your lungs then comes out with a loud moan. You grab his hair and push his face more into your pussy. Without any warning, two fingers join his tongue and you feel like you’re in heaven.

“Theo!” you almost scream his name as he pushes you closer to the edge.

“Not yet, amore,” he smiles and pulls his fingers out of you. You groan in disappointment. “Look how impatient you are,” he smirks, reaches out for his jeans to take out a condom from his pocket, and gets rid of his pants.

Your lips part in shock as you look at his ‘little’ friend. Man, his dick is big.

“The rumours are true as I see,” you blush and check him out.

“All yours,” he rolls the condom on his penis and positions himself between your legs. “Fuck, I forgot to ask, are you a virgin?” his eyes darken when you don't answer, he hides his face in your neck. “I’m going to be slow and gentle… at first,” he groans as he slowly enters.

You feel the pressure, the pain but he kisses your lips, neck and breasts to make you feel better. When you get used to his size, you lift your hips, to give him permission. He slowly starts moving and you moan when he picks up the pace. The sounds of your bodies connecting give you two euphoria.

“For Merlin’s sake, you’re so perfect, so tight, so hot,” he pants on your lips and kisses you deeply and slowly, and he slows down too. “I want to make love with you, cara mia. We can fuck whenever we want,” he whispers with a smirk and kisses your forehead. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Theo,” the orgasm starts to build in your body and you’re clawing his back.

“Me too, amore. I’m close too,” he whispers and gently bites your neck. You only need him to thrust into you one last time and the orgasm hits you from nowhere, while you’re moaning his name. He groans your name too while your bodies are shaking in the intense pleasure. He rolls off you and quickly throws away the used condom.

“Come here,” he pulls you close to himself and you lean your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“I hope you did it because you love me and not because you’re sorry for me,” you swallow while anxiety climbs up to your throat.

“Cara mia, I love you. If I have to tell you every day, I will. You deserve nothing less than the maximum,” he caresses your hair and gives a kiss into it. “You’re incredible, the perfect woman is next to me. I hope you'll never leave me,” he says quietly, not breaking the intimate moment.

“I love you, Theo. And I'd never do so,” You sigh and snuggle to him, covering yourselves with your blanket. “Sleep with me, please,” you ask him.

“I didn't plan to leave anytime soon,” he chuckles and starts tracing circles on your arm with his finger.

You sigh with relief and his closeness, his smell and the heat coming from his body make you fall asleep faster than you thought.

“Sweet dreams, cara mia,” that’s the last thing you hear before you pass out in his arms.

tag list: @sunkissedscribbles

comment if you want to be on the tag list<3

[thewordypeach]

Cream

Cream (Milk)

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader word count: 2.9k warnings: 18+, NSFW!!!!, smut! smut! smut!, no use of y/n, unprotected p in v = creampie, oral, titty sucking and titty fucking, (lactation kink), implied breeding kink, squirting, etc. summary: Joel needs his thirst quenched, and only one thing in this world can do it - author's note: ummm … so this sequel had me questioning my life choices. like i do not know what possessed me to take it this far lol so you better blow it up like you did with ‘Milk’ 🤭 anyways, i hope you like it <3 xoxo the wordy peach

It begins with: “You’ll never guess what they’re playing at movie night,” 

You look at Joel, a single eyebrow raised. Joel wolfishly grins, his brown eyes sparkling, “Austin Powers and the Spy Who Shagged Me,” 

He watches as your eyebrows knit together in confusion. Joel can’t believe you don’t remember the conversation from last week, the one that had you confessing to him that you felt like one of those fembots from the aforementioned movie. He steps closer, head dipping to your ear, whispering: “Machine gun titties,” 

That’s all it takes for you to remember. And it has your cheeks flushing pink. Sheepishly, you smile at him. But, of course, the cock block herself pipes up: “The spy who what?”

Ellie, you spunky little shithead. You love her to death. You never want her to grow up. But lately, she’s been ruining your alone time with Joel. You know she just wants to be a part of the family, and she is. It never even crossed your mind to think otherwise. She’s the daughter you never had. Sometimes you wish she’d just go and make friends that aren’t you or Joel. 

You look at Joel, waiting for him to answer. But Joel is expectantly gazing at you. A playful smirk ghosts across his lips. He thinks it’s your duty to explain the birds, the bees, and everything between them to Ellie. Of course, she knows most of it. But she questions absolutely everything. Just yesterday, you had the unfortunate experience of explaining anal to her; Joel walked out of the house when she asked and didn’t return until later. 

You poke a finger into Joel’s chest, hissing at him, “It’s your turn,” 

His face goes slack before he gives you a sullen look. He pouts those luscious lips of his, “But darlin'….” 

“Don't darlin' me, mister. You owe me for yesterday,” 

Joel continues to pout but eventually relents. He turns to Ellie with a face void of any emotion: “It’s a classic movie from the 2000s,” 

“Yeah, but what does shagged mean?” Ellie asks. Her eyes look between you and Joel, waiting for an answer. Joel grows uncomfortable. He’s never been one to talk about this kind of stuff. 

“Yeah, Joel. What does shagged mean?” You ask. 

“It- it… it means…” Joel stutters and stumbles over the words. His face is turning pink. He looks flustered as he searches for the right thing to say. You’re enjoying him floundering around. In one great, big breath, Joel spills out: “It’s a British slang term for intercourse,” 

Ellie blinks at him several times as she repeats what Joel just said to her. She starts chuckling, “Shagged means sex?!” Ellie turns into a mess of laughter. She’s clutching her sides. It’s not that funny. But you like watching her have fun. It brings back the innocence and reminds you of childhood. You were young when the movie came out, and the world was ravaged by fungus a few years after. So you cherish this moment of hilarity. You rub your tummy and smile at how much fun you will have raising this new baby with Joel and Ellie -

You don’t make it to movie night because you’re busy with the nursery, and the thought of walking all the way to town hall makes you cringe. You don’t like going anywhere unless it is essential. You make Joel and Ellie do everything for you. There are still some things you do yourself.

You insist Joel and Ellie go. Ellie doesn’t fight it (she’s so excited to watch a piece of history), but Joel grumbles about it. He wants to stay and help. By helping, Joel means he wants to milk you. He can’t stop helping you, and it’s the only thing on his mind - Joel swears he even dreams about it now. However, there hasn’t been a single moment for him to help you. Tommy has Joel doing everything and anything, and between his brother and Ellie, Joel hasn’t had time for his new hobby. 

So, after he drops Ellie off at the movie (making sure that she is settled and making sure that Tommy will bring her home after), Joel leaves and makes his way back to you. He wants to spend every free minute with you, but more importantly, this is the perfect opportunity to do what he’s been dreaming of without any interruptions. Joel needs his thirst quenched, and only one thing in this world can do it -

You hear him before you see him, and then you feel him. His arms wrap around your body, and he presses his chest into your back. You sink into the warmth, eyes closing and throat humming. His hands briefly touch your stomach before they find their rightful place. Joel cups your tits, placing each of them into his hands, and marvels at the heaviness. So full of his special cream. 

“They’ve gotten bigger, haven’t they?” Joel murmurs. His cock is already hard and straining inside his pants. Hell, on the walk home, the prospect of milking you had him almost cumming right then and there. 

“They’re definitely heavier,” Joel adds as he squeezes them. He notices you aren’t wearing a bra, and with one simple motion, he has his shirt on the floor (the only one that fits you). You’re facing him now, chest and belly exposed. The sight of you has him losing it. Joel feels happy and excited, and everything in between that. Joel can’t believe that you're his, and he’s yours. Nor can he believe his eyes because your tits are definitely bigger, and your nipples are already dewy with that milky nectar he loves so much. 

Joel groans, latches his mouth onto your right side, and starts suckling like a starved man. Your nipple is already stiff and responsive, and you feel the sensation of milk rushing through to meet your partner’s greedy tongue. His hand expertly kneads the pillowy flesh, expressing even more of the sweet cream that has him hard as a rock. Joel starts to breathe deeper and sucks harder, causing you to moan. 

Your fingers comb through Joel’s hair, and you hold him there because the pleasure of having Joel drain your tits is undeniable; in fact, the more Joel sucks and licks your nipple, the more your arousal grows. You have to remind him, “Joel…. We have less than ninety minutes -”

He grunts in response and moves his mouth to the other side he’s been neglecting. The feeling is indescribable, and you relish it. The relief Joel is giving you is insurmountable. But it also has you growing impatient with him. Your core is aching for his cock, and your hands travel over his body. You feel his muscles, thick and robust, beneath the plaid shirt. You need him now. 

“Joel,” Your hand drops to the bulge in his jeans, and you gently rub it with purpose. The friction makes Joel groan, finally lifting his head from your tits. His eyes are filled with a dazy lustiness that makes you fumble with your words. Still, it doesn’t matter because Joel is suddenly pressing his lips against yours and kissing you with an ardour that makes you forget everything you are about to say. 

You taste the substance that has Joel acting ravenous. It reminds you of cereal milk because it’s so sweet. You part from his lips, whispering, “Can I taste you now?” 

He doesn’t have time to answer because you’re already lowering yourself to your knees, planting them on the ground in front of Joel. With one hand, you pop open the buttons of his jeans and pull down the zipper. Roughly, you tug at the opening and watch as his thick, luscious cock springs free from its confines. At the sight of it, you lick your lips. Your fingers wrap around his length and slide over his stiffness. The movement makes Joel shiver, and when your lips finally touch his cock, a groan escapes from his throat.

Joel has been so concerned about making you feel good that he forgot to consider himself. Suddenly, you thrust him inside your mouth while twisting your hand down his cock. He quickly fills your mouth, and his hand grasps your hair in hopes of controlling you. However, he’s fine with letting you have your way right now. It’s been a while since you had the opportunity to please him; Joel loves how the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and you’re so adept at sucking him off that his length doesn’t make you gag anymore  - 

Expertly, you glide your mouth from the hilt to the tip of Joel’s cock, coating it in your saliva. Joel’s eyes nearly roll into his head because it feels so fucking good. It’s the only thing he can tell you because he’s almost lost his mind from the bliss of your mouth sheathing his cock. You don’t stop until Joel gasps for air and asks you to stop. 

“Babe, babe, babe,” His voice is husky, and he roughly pulls on your hair. You gasp and gaze up at him with a thick string of spit connecting your lips to his cock. Joel quivers at the sight and has to remember what he will say. You wait patiently. Obediently. 

Breathlessly, he asks, “Do you want me to fuck you here? Or…”

Without skipping a beat, you reply, “Here,” 

Joel doesn’t need to be told twice and is quick to shed his jeans before he starts to help you. You lean forward onto the palm of your hands and watch as Joel goes behind and begins to slide off the sweatpants you’re always wearing. Not that Joel minds. He knows it’s the only thing that fits you because you remind him every damn day. Once the sweatpants are off, he tosses them to the side and stares lovingly at your ass. It’s so round and perky and panty-less. He’s genuinely surprised, and it makes him smile. 

He caresses your fleshy cheeks, asking, “Is this for me?”

Joel can’t see your face but can tell you are blushing. Sheepishly, you admit, “As soon as you left, I took them off - for easy access,”

“Oh, darlin’,” He swoons, “You’re so sweet to think of me,”

Joel pries your sweet cheeks apart and buries his face, his tongue immediately swirling around your puckered asshole. Mewls spill forth from your mouth, and you wiggle your hips, trying to splay them apart because your body needs more. Joel’s tongue slithers down, lapping the juice practically pouring out of your needy, swollen cunt. He licks and sucks with wild abandon, groaning at your deliciousness. He doesn’t stop until you are begging him, “Joel, fuck me. Fuck me with your big cock, please. Oh god, fuck me, already!”

He removes his mouth from your exterior and replaces it with his cock. He rubs and rubs his bulbous crown between your molten wetness, gliding it back and forth until it’s coated with your slickness. When he thinks it’s enough, he pushes into your tight cunt. At first, your channel is resistant. But slowly, your velvety walls happily start devouring Joel’s cock until his entire length basks in the warmth. 

You are gasping at the sensation of being stretched out. It’s almost too much in this position, and a small rock of Joel’s hips gives way to your first orgasm. Your vision swirls as a wave of ecstasy comes crashing through. Your fingers grip the carpet as your cunt swells and clenches his cock. Your back arches as you cry out, “Fuck, Joel,”

Immediately, he stops, thinking he has hurt you or the baby. Panic-stricken, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“N-n-nothing,” You stutter out, attempting to catch your breath. Your lungs greedily suck in the air, saturated with the smell of sex. You tell him, “You made me cum,”

“Already?” He murmurs and devilishly thinks about the five times he made you cum last week. Joel rocks his hips again, and you whimper at the movement. At a glacial pace, Joel pulls out before sliding back in and burying his cock to the hilt. You’re gripping the carpet and moaning like crazy. He’s sure the neighbours can hear you, which drives Joel forward. He wants them to know how good he is at fucking you. 

Joel grabs your hips, nails sinking into the fleshy bits, and plows in and out of your pussy. He’s pulling all the way out and pushing all the way in, ensuring you feel every inch of his girthy length. Your body is rocking beneath his, tits swaying like udders. You reach between your legs to touch your clit. It’s pulsating and yearning to be touched. You gingerly circle it, knowing a light touch is enough to send you over the edge. And you’re right because, within seconds, your second orgasm is rolling through.

You wail, “Joel, Joel, Joel,” but Joel doesn’t stop this time. He continues to youthfully spear your pussy and watches as your creamy juices coat his cock. Vigorously, you rub your clit because a third orgasm is imminent. Your back arches and your hips are high in the air, and Joel stops, pulling out completely, to watch as your pussy trembles with another orgasm. Your thighs are dripping with your juices, and his name still spills out of your mouth. Repeatedly. 

His hand squeezes your hip, “Mmm, darlin’. That’s your third one - should we slow down? Don’t want to hurt -”

“Need more,” You interrupt him, “Need to cum more, Joel,”

Joel shakes his head, “Darlin’,'' He knows you aren’t thinking straight, driven to recklessness because of the pure ecstasy that has raptured your body. You turn over, laying on your back. You splay your legs apart, and your pussy glistens in the light. It’s so swollen, so puffy. Your hand is back, and your fingers are working your clit. But from this angle, it’s a little more challenging because of your protruding belly. And it’s making you frustrated. Especially because Joel is just watching, not helping. 

“Joel,” You growl, “Fuck me,”

A single eyebrow of his shoots up, and you begrudgingly mutter, “Please,”

Much to your surprise, Joel moves. However, instead, he hovers above your chest and settles his cock in the valley of your tits. His hands squeeze them, and the milk for his unborn child sprays out, sprinkling across your chest and hitting his cock. At first, Joel goes slow, his cock passing between your tits. It’s a different kind of friction and holy hell… it feels good. His cock, slippery with your juices and milk, has him gliding through your breasts with ease. He grips harder and fucks your tits faster, rocking his hips back and forth. 

As he slips in and out, he milks your bountiful breasts in the process. He does it until you are soaked. He’s breathing hard, and his balls are tightening. He’s close, so fucking close. But he doesn’t want to finish like this because he knows you want more orgasms, and who is he to deny his pregnant partner? You have been carrying his baby for months, and it hasn’t been easy. And Joel knows that once the baby is born, you won’t be able to have sex for weeks. Not until you’re healed. So, why not let you live a little? 

He pulls his cock out of your cleavage and moves his face to yours, kissing you passionately. His tongue swirls and mingles with yours before he shifts down. Joel latches his mouth around your nipple and practically inhales a gulp of cream into his mouth. He doesn’t swallow and comes back up, kissing you again. Messily, Joel washes your mouth with your milk. It’s sweet and warm, and it’s fucking kinky as hell. It has you moaning into Joel’s mouth. He moans back, letting you know he loves every moment of it too.

As he continues to kiss you, Joel reaches down and takes his cock, sliding it over your puffy and sensitive lips before pressing it into your velvet channel. Your body welcomes him, and your mouth drops, gasping as you effortlessly fit his entire length . Once more, Joel explores your warm depths with a vigorous youthfulness. His flesh is clapping yours over and over until you are yelling his name over and over. Your hands are gripping his forearms, nails digging into his skin. 

“Mmm, Joel, mmm, Joel, gonna cum, Joel, mmm - fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your eyes roll back, and an unwavering fourth climax raptures your body. A euphoric release rolls across your body, and you undulate beneath Joel. He watches as your belly quivers, and he feels your cunt trying to expel him, and when he does finally pull out, a massive bolt of liquid escapes - he realizes you’re squirting. Something he’s only heard rumours about. He’s astonished by the amount of liquid that is coming out and by how long your orgasm is lasting.

Meanwhile, you are gasping for air, lungs greedily gulping it down. You have no idea what happened; all you know is it’s a big wet mess down there. You’re gazing at Joel, cock-drunk. Orgasm-drunk. Your brain is buzzing with satisfaction. Your fixation on cumming has been satiated. However, your partner is still rock hard. He still needs to cum, and he’s more eager than ever before. He shoves his cock back in, and the molten wetness has his cock quivering as his climax punches through, pushing him over the edge.

He doesn't warn you. He doesn’t have to - the damage is done. You’re reaping what he sowed. Joel shoots his seed as far into you as possible with a single thrust. His hands touch your belly, caressing the soft skin, and he pushes his cock even deeper, where he empties the rest of his balls. When he pulls out, his cum mixed with yours oozes out from your crease and pools onto the carpet beneath you. 

You dare to smile up at him, murmuring: “Thank you, Daddy,”

[grimst4rs]

James slipped open the curtains to Sirius’ bed and sat down, the mattress creaking and dipping slightly under his weight. Sirius was lying on his side, one leg bent and higher up, and appeared to be sleeping.

“Mate.”

Sirius tentatively opened a grey eye, looking from under hooded eyelids to him. “Hm?” He hummed, shifting and changing his position, now lying on his back, propped up on his elbows.

“Are you sleeping?”

“Does it look to you like I’m sleeping?”

“Very funny. D’you wanna talk?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t want to be dwelling on the past, but don’t you think that Moony’s reaction was a bit… off?”

“I think it has less to do with the fact that I’m a queer and more to do with the fact that he’s a prude. If he can’t imagine me shagging a chick, imagine me shagging a bloke. Blasphemous.”

James chuckled. “Well, maybe. Wormtail didn’t seem to mind.”

“That’s because he wants to shag me.” Sirius scoffed.

He gasped. “What!?”

“Please, he wants to fuck me as bad as he wants to fuck you. It makes him look stupid, and it’s so horribly obvious, the way he’s eyeing us.” The other boy stopped, pushing his hair out of his face. James took a moment to take the way Sirius looked in the dim light of the lamp on the nightstand; his eyes, darkened by sleep, his long, lean body, the way his hair fell down his shoulder and the way his lips curved when he noticed his best friend’s stare on him. “Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

“No.” James laughed uneasily. “Well, uh, not quite? I had a question or two. But you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” He added, quickly.

Sirius nodded, signalling him to continue.

“Did you ever, uh, kiss a bloke?”

Sirius furrowed his brow, looking amused. “Yes? A few.”

“Is it different from kissing girls?”

Sirius let out a breath, running a hand over his stomach, his shirt raising and exposing the trail of dark hair starting at his navel and disappearing into his red-and-black checkered pajama bottoms. “I mean… not really? Unless the bloke you’re making out with has a stubble. Then it’s different, because it scratches.”

“So you have kissed guys.”

“Uh, yeah?” Sirius laughed. “Obviously. The same way I’ve girls. I take you haven’t.”

“No.”

“You’re curious, then, aren’t you?”

“Well, sort of.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

James’ mouth fell open. He looked to the side, knowing what he wanted, but not knowing how to word it so that he didn’t sound like he had been questioning his feelings in regards to his best mate for the past half a year.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He questioned, a smile tugging at his lips. James nodded, breathlessly.

Sirius shifted again, pushing himself up on his knees and pressing his lips against James’, who clasped his hand on his shoulder, his mouth eager for more, to taste, to feel. He parted his lips slightly, an invitation for James to deepen their kiss, to do things at his own pace. One of Sirius’ hands cupped James’ jaw, the other one meeting his hair, the distance between them closing, their bodies pressed together. Sirius stumbled back, James on top of him, straddling his hips.

“Sorry.” James rasped put, then broke into laughter as he pushed himself off Sirius and to his side.

“So, different to kissing girls?”

“It makes me feel different. Or maybe it’s just because I’m kissing you.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because you’re Sirius. Everything’s different with you.”

“You should probably look into that, mate.” Sirius snickered.

The lights turned on in the door.

“Go to your bed, you’re gonna face an inquiry as in to why you’re in my bed this late at night.”

“But I—”

“Good night, James,” Sirius said, turning on his side and covering himself with the blanket, but not before giving him one complacent grin.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

There was this post a little while back suggesting that Beard gets kicked out by Jane and moves in with Higgins and that’s very narratively satisfying and right, given that Leslie’s the one person daring to tell Beard that his relationship with Jane isn’t, you know, great. However, I’m a Roy & Jamie girl at heart, so I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if Beard instead moved in with his fellow fan of few words, ie one Roy Kent.

Say, for instance, that Roy and Jamie are fucking/dating/what have you and Jamie gets it into his pretty, silly head that they can somehow hide the fact from Beard. Roy tells him stop being an idiot, of course he’s going to know if he’s staying here, only way to keep it from him if you keep away until he finds another place to live, and fuck no, I’m not moving in with you, how the fuck would I explain that, and anyway your fucking headboard would give me a migraine.

Well, Jamie says mulishly, I’m not staying away.

Fine, Roy says, secretly a little relieved. So he’ll know. Big fucking deal.

And in this version of events Roy really is cool with it, because it has to come out sooner or later and he’s not ashamed and it’s not like Beard’s gonna say anything (Roy may or may not be mistaken in this assumption), and anyway, he’s Roy Kent, he does whatever the hell he wants, okay. Only Jamie doesn’t accept that, because he has this strong and somewhat misguided notion that he needs to defend Roy’s honour by not letting anyone suspect he’s fucking his player. So Jamie starts making up increasingly absurd excuses as to why he should show up at Roy’s place like having some work done at my house and Roy was concerned I’d be breathing in poisonous fumes, yeah, so he said I had to come over here and um, Coach, I think I strained my calf today, could you maybe take a look here in the bedroom ‘cause my back hurts too and I need to lay down and yeah, Beard’s eyebrows are not as psychotic as Roy’s but they certainly climb and climb and climb. Later in the evening he just glances at Roy, so, you and Jamie, huh? And Roy shrugs, unconcerned, yeah, and pours himself another cup of tea. He doesn’t tell Jamie that they’ve been made, though; it’s still kind of fun watching the muppet make a fool of himself. Besides, the idea of their encounters being particularly illicit seems to really get Jamie going, so.

Alternatively, Jamie agrees to stay away, and then proceeds to do everything in his power to set Beard up with someone else so that Beard can be happy and move in with his new friend and Jamie can go back to shagging his grumpy old boyfriend all over the house. The attempts are predictably absurd, but also oddly sweet (‘cause Jamie wants the relationship to last, right, so that Beard doesn’t come knocking on Roy’s door again anytime soon, so obviously he needs to find someone properly nice, but it’s hard for him to figure what nice means to someone as odd as Beard).

(These two scenarios work if Keeley’s part of the mix, too, btw. She can either join in Jamie’s antics because she’s a weird girl at heart, or she can be the voice of reason if a voice of reason is what gets you going.)

Or say that Roy and Jamie really are just friends (for the moment, at least) and it’s Roy that gets a little nervous about Beard realizing just how close they are. Like, he’s reluctantly cool with everyone knowing that Jaime is his favourite player (though of course he’d deny it if someone dared say it to his face) or them knowing that Roy spends stupid amounts of time torturing training Jamie, but he’s not quite comfortable having people know that they also just… hang out. That Roy cooks Jamie dinner. Leaves Phoebe with him when Roy’s busy with a coaching crisis. That they watch stupid shit on the telly together, and that Roy doesn’t complain (much) when Jamie curls up to him like a cat. That stuff’s private, all right? So he stops having Jamie over, starts brushing him off, and at first Jamie’s undeterred because if he let Roy’s grumpiness get to him he’d never not be gotten to, but Roy persists and Jamie starts to wilt, hurt and confused. In the end, Beard – wise, all-seeing Beard – fixes Roy with one long stare and notes that there’s nothing wrong with having a friend, Coach. Plenty wrong with being shit to the ones you’ve got, though, and Roy doesn’t even yell fuck he just stands there, stony like, until he jerks a short nod and stalks off to make things up to Jamie.

Anyway, the idea of Beard bearing witness to Roy and/or Jamie being particularly ridiculous about each other is very funny, to me.

(I tried to hunt down that original post because even though I didn’t want to add to it and derail OP’s poignant take with my Roy & Jamie obsession, I still want to credit them for the original idea. Couldn’t find it, however, but please give me a shout if you have a link. Aha! @coachbeards is the original galaxy brain!)

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Bentley Shenanigans (Good Omens)

Crowley x Fem!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Crowley needs to relieve some frustrations after that shitshow of a birthday party.

CW: vaginal sex, fingering, dirty talk, car sex, vague degradation/humiliation

Good Omens tag list: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

This was possibly one of the most shocking things you had ever seen. Crowley was wearing white. You’d never seen him in anything other than black and when he’d first come to pick you up after the birthday party, you had known something was different, but couldn’t pick what it was. It had actually taken you at least two solid minutes to realise that it was because he was wearing white. 

“What the fuck- you’re- what are you wearing?” 

Crowley glances at you as he pulls into the parking spot at the lookout trail and turns the car off. Sometimes the two of you came out here just to get away. 

“What- this old thing?” He chuckles, tossing his sunglasses onto the dash before sighing defeatedly. Oh dear, it wasn’t a good sign if he could barely keep his sultry demeanour going.

“I think,” he trailed off. “It is safe to say… that did not go as well as I hoped it would.”

You’re not really sure what to make of that, given that the balance of the world as you knew it hung squarely on Crowley and Aziraphale’s shoulders. Sitting quietly, you wait for Crowley to continue. 

“I mean, really- you wouldn’t have thought it would be that hard, would you? Fucking nuns, Pet. Useless, the lot of them.” 

Crowley pinches his nose and turns toward you, eyeing you up and down. Your dress has ridden up your thighs and you do not fail to notice the way he eyes you appreciatively. 

“Fancy a quick fuck?” He asks casually. You splutter on a response for a moment. Here you were, discussing how the end of the world was fast approaching in less than a week, and Crowley wanted to shag? You blinked at him. That wasn’t to say you weren’t interested, either, mind you. You definitely were, but, it was just a bit out of the blue was all. What did that say about you, you wondered… In the face of the end of the world, you’re thinking about getting fucked one more time. Hmm. On second thoughts, you think it might just mean that you appreciate the fun things in life. 

“Sure,” you say, cheeks pinking at the thought of him in that white coat bending you over and taking out his frustrations on you. “One condition, though.” Crowley’s brow arches, a sultry smirk appearing on his face. “The coat stays.” 

“Your wish is my command, love,” he replied. “Back seat, then?” 

You nod, shocked at the casual nature of this exchange. It wasn’t something you were necessarily unused to, but there was usually a little more pent-up energy and flirting beforehand. However, getting straight to it wasn’t a bad thing either. It was kind of refreshing, actually. 

You get out of the car and go around to the driver's side. Crowley opens the back door for you and promptly bends you over into the back of the car. You gasp, your hands reaching out to steady you on the leather seats. 

Crowley slides his hand up your sundress, exposing your black panties to him. He groans, gripping at your ass before letting go and giving it a rough slap. You jolt forward with the shock. Crowley tuts and grips you by the hips to drag you back towards him. 

His hips ground against your ass roughly, his cock hardening beneath his pants. You bit your lip, enjoying the roughness of his clothes against your almost bare skin. Crowley laughed, reaching down to rip your panties off you. You let out a sound of protest, though Crowley shushed you. 

“Fix ‘em later, promise,” he assured you before tossing the ripped remains of your underwear over your head and into the other door. Any further protests died before they even formed thought as his fingers slid down over the curve of your ass and sunk themselves into your tight, wet heat. 

You moaned, thighs twitching as he fingered you open. If you weren’t wet before, you definitely were now. 

Crowley removed the fingers once he thought you were wet enough and presented them to you to clean off. You did so without complaint or question, sucking his fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling over the digits to clean them of your slick. 

Crowley grunted, the other hand undoing his pants and removing his cock from its confines. Once he was free, he pulled his fingers from your mouth, giving your cheek a little pat. The feel of the saliva cooling on your skin- the dirtiness of it- had you clenching. 

“Look at that,” he groaned, pressing his head against your entrance. “Sopping for me, aren’t you? Filthy thing, you are, Pet.” 

You nodded, pressing back against him. His head slipped inside, causing you both to groan. You with impatience, and he with pleasure. Crowley’s fingers gripped at your hips harshly as he slowly sunk inside you. Once he was finally inside you, you were finally able to relax. Feeling so full up on his cock felt like your version of Heaven. 

God, Crowley made you so cock-drunk that it was ridiculous.

Then, your Demon started to move, hips snapping back and forth with fervour. It wasn’t long before Crowley was bent over you, yanking your hips into his own with every thrust. You were scrabbling at the leather, cheek sticking to the seat with the sweat. Loud moans and sharp grunts could be heard coming from the car, and you hoped that no one was on this particular walking trail today. 

Then again, maybe you’d like an audience. The thought had you biting your lip to stifle the groan, and you clenched around the Demon, who straightened up and wrapped a hand into your hair. 

“Fuck, that’s it-” he growled, fucking into you harder. “Reach down there and play with that pretty clit for me, Pet. Mm- like that.” 

Your fingers reached your clit, rubbing tight circles. You could feel the push and pull of his cock from within you, could feel as your slick creamed around him. You cried out in sharp pleasure as he slapped your ass cheek again. 

“Are you going to cum already, Pet? Huh?” 

You nodded, the motion pulling at your hair just that little bit more. Crowley laughed loudly, fucking into you harder. 

“Better do it then,” he warned. “Come on, cum for me, Pet.” 

Your fingers were lightning quick on your clit. Your thighs were twitching and struggling to keep yourself up from Crowley’s punishing thrusts. With a loud drawn-out moan, you came. 

Crashing waves of chaotic pleasure roiled inside you. Your fingers crushed themselves into the leather as you felt your release roll through your muscles. Your clit felt like it was on fire as you forced yourself to concentrate hard enough to rub yourself through it, contracting around Crowley hard enough to make him cum. 

He grunted from above you, hips stuttering- and then you felt it. His release coating your walls. You whined, grinding yourself back against him as he started to slow. Crowley gave your hip a warning squeeze, but you ground yourself back on him, pressing him in as far as you could to make sure not a drop of his seed escaped you. 

You sighed with relief, fingers slowing to a stop on your clit. Crowley was hunched over you, panting with exertion. 

You laughed, the endorphins starting to kick in. Crowley chuckled breathily against your back and pressed a kiss to the fabric of your dress. 

“That was fun,” you said, unsticking your cheek from the seat. 

“Mm-” Crowley grunted in response. “Aziraphale will be jealous.” 

You don’t think you’re wrong in thinking he doesn’t seem all that upset about making the Angel jealous. 

“I think you’re right,” you pant back, slowly starting to catch your breath now. 

“Alright, come on,” he says, picking himself up and slowly pulling out of you, shushing you comfortingly when you whimper at the loss. “I know, Pet. Come on, let’s get you back to the Shop, eh? The Angel will be missing us by now.” 

You groan and force yourself to stand up. Your walls clench to keep Crowley’s seed inside. 

“Don’t miracle it away,” you say, knowing that Crowley was planning to do so for your ease of comfort. “You know how Zira likes his seconds.” 

Crowley tutted at you, a smirk playing across his lips. 

“Naughty thing, you are. Whatever are we going to do with you?” 

You hop into the passenger side again, your muscles thanking you for the relief. 

“Guess we’ll have to find out, won’t we?” 

“Guess so, love.”

[talk-danmei-to-me]

Mo Ran and Promiscuity

A.k.a he’s actually conflated promiscuity with having a high sex drive.

Because I’m procrastinating and it’s been ages since I wrote a good bl meta. All references relevant up to the end of vol 7.

The opening of vol 1 informs us that Mo Ran has a massive cock (true) and is renowned throughout the pleasure districts for being an exceptional lay (lies).

Why do I think this is lies? A) it’s coming from Mo Ran’s perspective which is always a little bit skewed.

B) Literally nothing that canonically happens insinuates Mo Ran has ever shagged around the pleasure districts.

Let’s deep dive!

- Who has Mo Ran actually slept with?

Early doors, the impression of Mo Ran burning his money in brothels comes from the uptight, definitely has no repressed urges or issues linked to Mei Hanxue, Xue Meng.

Xue Meng who was everyone’s first choice to fight the lust gourd. I do not think he is a voice of authority for the promiscuous.

In reality, yes Mo Ran is burning his money in brothels, but on (1) prostitute who he intends to buy freedom for. Mo Ran is basically in his Pretty Woman era.

And then obviously you have Chu Wanning who in the past Mo Ran was fucking seven times a day in seven different places, and in the current timeline pretty much as often as they can get away with.

Speaking of Chu Wanning… it could be argued that Mo Ran was going brothel hopping after he died, but he was also using his spiritual energy to keep his body perfectly preserved and spending every night talking to his corpse, so when did he have the time?

I guess he also slept with Song Qiutong, but then he pied her off on their wedding night and later turned her into soup so… probably doesn’t count.

Next point!

- Mo Ran’s game

I adore Mo Ran, he is my favourite danmei boy and probably a top 5 protagonist of all time. BUT to say he is meant to be this renowned lothario… his game… it’s terrible. Awful. His lines and his chat are so cringe, it’s adorable and for some reason Chu Wanning eats them up but that is the only way they work. And I guess the readers eat it up because Ranwan is compelling.

In the real world, Mo Ran is not seducing anyone else with his lines. 1.0/2.0 Mo Ran should have the memories of brothel hopping so I would expect his chat to be much better.

So what is the point of Mo Ran’s alleged promiscuity?

I’m wondering if it’s a side effect of the flower. Obviously it warps everything to hate, but for Mo Ran it’s seems to have warped his feelings for Chu Wanning into sexual obsession with fleeting glimpses of love (in the 0.5 timeline). So, I’m wondering if since his memories are all to pot, that also means he’s warped his desires into thinking he’s sleeping around when he’s not. Case in point, Taxian-jun was only concerned with Mo Ran fucking Chu Wanning when he saw him again and the fact that he hadn’t literally broke his brain.

I really want to do a re-read to find all the times Taxian-jun slips up where it comes to how much he hates loves Chu Wanning because it’s clearly there. It’s the reason I love the last chapter of vol 7 so much. There’s so much going on beneath the surface.

Like honestly, I think if you compared Mo Ran’s body count with other promiscuous bl protagonists they would laugh at him. Man is just super horny and talks himself up. And from a narrative viewpoint even then I think it’s just to spark jealous Chu Wanning.

[woods-and-adlers-left-hand-dude]

Cold war incorrect quote/scenarios

Adler as he turns around to shoot bell:it was never personal

Bell throwing a rock at Adler and catching him off guard:the fuck you mean 'it was never personal'

Adler shocked:what?

Bell: motherfucker you Stoll me from my homeland and turned me into an American,made me believe we had some deep friendship and made me apart of your team so you're not getting rid of me now.

Adler while waving his gun:but I was meant to kill you?

Bell throwing another rock at Adler:yeah no shit Sherlock I know that but I'm going to give you three options, number one you kill me and I haunt you for the rest of your life number 2 I take you back to Russia and I get to play doctor and you play brain washed soldier or option three you take me back with you to America and you get me a McDonald's and let me watch the starwars.

Adler:ow will you stop that and why do you want a McDonald's and to watch starwars?

Bell: because Frank was telling me about them and I want to experience them anyway we can call this part of your apology for fucking me up.

Adler sighing:you know what fine come on them.

Bell fist pumping:YES we're taking Frank and Alex with us and your paying by the way.

Adler muttering:woods and mason are never going to let me live this down.

(on a completely unrelated note I lost a game of zombies today because I laughed so hard when my mate asked me if narcolepsy was when you want to shag a corpse)

@annomimi I know it's not a fic but it's something