#how to put on a kilt

[saints-who-never-existed]

I like Little's Awkward-Shoulder-Pat-of-Comfort as much as the next gal but y'know what else is underrated?

The Wordless-Head-Tilt-of-Some-Actual-Goddamn-Authority-for-Once.

He only gets to do it a few times and you'll miss them if you blink - shepherding Hoare and Crispe from the Carnivale cooking pot comes to mind, as does leading Golding away after the post-funeral pow-wow in E09 - but it always delights me.

[xeneric-shrooms]

Hatched this guy from a fodder pair of mine and I loved the ruby striation wings so much (it looks AMAZING on skydancers) and now I have a New Guy orz

[spilledmilkfkdies]

I know Anagan's fit has enough elements(??) to at least kind of match with the other wizards' but like, every time I see them all together or just him and Gantlos for example my brain goes

And I'm SORRY because that's such an exaggeration and I'm AWARE but I cAN'T STOP

He doesn't even look out of place necessarily, the ✨ flavour ✨ is just different? And I don't want to blame the pants for that which bY THE WAY?? He got away with that AT LEAST twice smh

I know that's probably a mobility thing because he's a speedster and all that, but the possible conversations the wizards might've had because of it are just gfgvgvv

Anyway, like I said, I don't want to blame the pants but it probably plays a part? The coat and colors too. In my mind this is just the darkest Anagan would agree to, like he's not going full goth, not even for the besties. He hasn't committed to their fashion in centuries.

[battlekilt]

I have made monsters. Though it does not always work, there is a guaranteed lack of peace in this house if TCW isn't one. Not Mandalorian, just TCW. Admittedly, I haven't tried TBB—yet. But, eventually, I will.

In the meantime... to write my fic, I must... load TCW and hope it doesn't distract my ADHD.

[minihotdog]

Caught Red Handed // Part 1

Summary: Soap Catches His Roommate Reading an Erotic Novel

Part 2

Pairing: John "Soap" Mactavish x Fem!Reader

a/n: Most likely gonna be a follow up fic for this, already brainstorming

c/w: oral (F receiving), a little penetration

word count: 2k

***

You sat on the end of the couch curled up in a blanket, completely enthralled by the book in your hands. Your nose is buried inside the pages and you only move to readjust your glasses every once in a while.

Soap saunters into the kitchen to get some water, noticing you in a trance-like state as he reaches for a glass. He calls your name to no avail. Eventually, he gives up and plops down on the other end of the couch and your eyes rip away from the book to him. You cautiously put the book down on your lap, hoping he hadn’t caught some of the words.

“What are ye readin’ tha’ has ye blushin’ like tha’?”

“Huh?” You pretend to not know what he’s talking about and try, nonchalantly, to cover the book with your blanket. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just a little warm.”

He eyes you, not believing a word of what you’re saying and you try to play it off as if your soul didn’t jump out of your skin from him interrupting you while reading the most filthy paragraphs of your life. 

Soap raises an eyebrow at you, a smirk appears on his face. Heat continues to rise to your face as his muscles bulge while he scratches the back of his neck. He always lounged around in a pair of gray sweats, chest exposed. You always assumed you were used to it until you were close enough to take all of him in. The Scottish flag on his left pec and a quote on his ribs you had yet to get close enough to read, and worst of all, the sheer size of him. 

“Yer full o’ shite,” He accuses you playfully. “Let me see then?” The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you toss the blanket at him as a distraction and take off running. He fights off the blanket and is hot on your heels as you try to hide the book in your room. 

He comes up behind you and snatches it from your hands. 

“Johnny! No!” He holds the book above his head and you’re jumping up, trying to take it from him.

“Alright, alright. I’ll give it back.” You put your hand out and he turns, running into his room. You follow him only for the door to shut in your face with a click.

“Give me my book back!” You try to open the door, banging on it when it won’t budge.

“Be quiet, I’m readin’.” He shouts through the door.

You put your forehead on the door, cursing yourself for reading such a thing when you had someone like him around. 

“Why’s there a big lad wearin’ a kilt on the front?”

Your eyes close and your hands cover your face. You stood there about to die of embarrassment thinking about how this couldn’t get any worse, until…

“His body was as hard as steel, forged frae generations of resistance against the soothern British armies - fuckin’ Brits -.” He murmurs the last bit before continuing. “Her hands ran ower his muscles as he slid his throbbin’ member intae her soaked…WOAH!”

“Johnny, stop!” You plea for him to stop reading. Your ears hurt at the sound of it being read out loud.

The room falls silent for a while and you call out his name once again. The quiet fuels your embarrassment. It feels like a thousand years go by before he opens the door and stands in the frame, holding the book at his waistline. He points at you with a wicked smile,

“Oh, yer a dirty, lass.” You snatch the book from him and stop towards your room.

“John Mactavish, you are so nosey!” He laughs as you shut and lock your door so you can read in peace.

***

You tip-toe out of your room, not quite ready to confront your roommate after the events earlier in the day. You poked your head into the kitchen, seeing his mohawk peaking over the other side of the half wall separating the two rooms. You quietly enter the kitchen, turning your back to him to try and open the refrigerator, hoping that the TV is loud enough to cover the sound of the door opening.

“Y/n, ye done being mad?” He taunts, resting with his forearms on the half wall, looking right at you. You stick your tongue out at him and he chuckles. He never took you seriously when you were mad at him. To piss you off, he’d often tell you that you reminded him of one of those little dogs, angry as hell and completely unaware of how small they were.

He motions to the couch, “Come watch a movie wit me.” You shake your head and he whines, “O’ c’mon, y/n.” 

“Fiiiine.”

You walk over and sit on the other end of the small couch, your nerves building up in your stomach. Soap is wrapped up in your blanket. You glance over at him as you rub the fabric on your pj shorts. He scratches his scruff and his eyes slowly meet yours. He wiggles his eyebrows at you, “Wha’s wrong, lass?”

Your eyes drop, heat rising to your cheeks from being caught staring.

“Nothing.”

“Lassie, there’s nothin’ wrong wit readin’ those types o’ books.” A mischievous smirk plays on his lips, “There’s nothin’ wrong wit wantin’ a big Scotsman tae throw ye around and fuck ye silly either.”

You hide yourself with your hands, not wanting him to see the horrified look on your face. He scoots over to you, wrapping you in a bear hug.

“Oh, innocent little y/n has a dark side, I cannae believe it!”

“Nooo!” You squeal, “Stop bringing it up!”

You turn to push him away but he locks an arm on both sides of the armrest behind you, trapping you. His blue eyes bore into your soul making you squirm.

“So, tell me, Ye read tha’ because ye like it? Or did ye wish it was another Scotsman ye know?” He tilts his head, looking up as if he’s trying to remember something. “His grasp on my throat tightened as his thrusts became harder, pushin’ me over the edge… Is that what she said?” You cover his mouth with your hands and he grabs your wrists in one hand, pulling them off. 

“I’ll make yer little dreams come true, just tell me ye want me.”

Your breath catches as you try to speak, “Johnny…” You’re left not knowing what to say to him. He catches you off guard, pulling you onto your back by your hips. His body forces your legs open and he rests his weight on his forearms. His lips graze your ear, “I see ye lookin’ me up and down all the time, lass.” His hand travels down your body to cup your pussy through your shorts. A wave of heat shoots through your body. “I hear ye moanin’ my name at night when ye play with yerself, now I catch ye readin’ a book about some lad wrecking a wee thing.” He pushes the hem against your clit and you grip his shoulders. 

“Jus’ admit it and I’ll be more than happy to give it to ye.” His hand grabs your jaw, giving it a taunting little shake. He holds himself above you, eyes glued to your lips, whispering, “C’mon, c’mon,” encouraging you to answer.

You find the courage to speak, the fire coursing through your body is unbearable.

“Johnny, please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me.”

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus.” He mutters before coming down to kiss you, pressing his bulge against you through his sweats. His lips move with yours, his kiss leaves you feeling hypnotized. By the time he begins pulling your shorts down, you’re seeing stars. He throws the shorts off to the side and his fingers run over the wet patch on your panties. He lets out a shaky breath, and he takes in the sight of you. Legs spread for him with your nipples poking through your oversized t-shirt. Your big doe eyes watch his every move as he positions himself lower on the couch, throwing your legs over his back.

He kisses down your thighs, nipping at the soft flesh, until he reaches where you want him most. He leaves one last kiss on your clit through the fabric before pulling it down your legs. He groans, watching you drip for him. He parts your lips with his thumbs and licks a stripe up to your clit. “Oh, lass.” He moans, tasting you on his tongue. He leaves slow licks on your clit, savoring the small sounds he’s coaxing out of you. He looks up at you from between your legs,  as you squirm, 

“Quit fuckin’ tryin’ to get away fra’ me.” He wraps his arms around your thighs forcing them to squeeze his head and continues lapping at your clit. He was usually impatient when he was in this position, wanting to draw out the most erotic sounds from whoever he was blessed with his tongue, to drink from them like a man stuck in the desert. Of course, he would do the same to you, but at this moment he wanted to revel in what he had fantasized about doing for so long. His beloved roommate whom he dreamed of, and spent so many nights imagining beneath him had his head in between her legs. 

He closes his lips around your clit flicking it repeatedly. The attack on your sensitive nub has you arching your back. His name falls from your lips, your eyes clamp shut, one hand tangling in his overgrown mohawk and the other digging its nails into his arm. 

He goes back and forth from flicking your clit quickly and leaving long licks, lapping up your wetness. 

“Johnny,” You breathe out. His name being drawn out from you causes his cock to ache every single time. One of his hands rips your shirt up, exposing your breasts. He kneads the soft flesh, giving the mound a gentle slap. He moans when your hips move against his mouth.

“Oh, what a good girl.” He gives his head a shake, letting his tongue move with it. The motion has you mewling as your orgasm begins to build up. 

“Johnny, p-please I’m gonna-” Your words trail off as he eats you out like you’re his last meal. His scruff scratches against your thighs leaving the skin irritated as he bobs his head, licking away. His pace doesn’t slow when you gasp and begin squeezing around nothing. Your hand keeps him in place while you ride out your high. His name fills the room in a chant. Your body jerks violently as the waves continue hitting you even longer due to him not wanting to stop.

He cleans you up, groaning at the mess you made. His mouth leaves a gentle kiss on your overly sensitive clit before he rises from his position. He wipes his chin off, his eyes cloudy just like yours.

“Fuck, lass. Yer addictin’.” His rough calloused hands run over your curves. He pulls your shirt completely off and leans down to give you a deep kiss. He trails down leaving wet kisses all over your neck. He goes further, leaving hickeys on your breasts, catching one of your perky nubs in his mouth. He then licked from between your breasts and up your neck, giving you one more kiss before pulling away to free himself from his sweats. He kicks them off and kneels in front of you completely bare. The sight of him and his body has you dripping once again. His piercing blue eyes were darker than normal, his hair a mess from you holding onto it for dear life, his muscles contracting with every movement. Your eyes run over him, admiring every part of him until you get further down. 

“Oh dear god, Johnny.” You gasp. He lets go of his member and it slaps down on your stomach. He was long and thick, the head was bright red with a bead of precum threatening to fall from it. “No wonder you’re such a cocky ass.”

He laughs at your playful insult. 

“We’ll see how much talkin’ yer gonna be doing in a second.”

He rubs the tip on your sensitive clit causing you to jump. He teases you by running the length of his cock in between your pussy lips, collecting the wetness. Both your eyes are glued to the pornographic scene.

“I better never catch you readin’ one of those books again, lovie.”

“Why’s t-that?”

“Because I’m a better fuck than tha’ clown you were readin’ about.”

You roll your eyes at his cockiness. In all truth, he was a little upset that you were drooling over some scot in a book when you had him right here. His competitiveness with the fictional character was enough to fuel him. 

He positions his tip at your entrance, poking into you slightly.

“Alright, lass. Deep breath.” 

You listen, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

“Ready?” He looks down at you with a gentle smile. You nod your head and he focuses back on your dripping core. “Finally got ye where I want ye.” He mutters, shifting his weight. The fat head of his cock slides into you, your eyes go wide and your mouth falls open.

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Different First Meeting I NSFW I Public Indecency I 2.8k words

He's planted. Call him The White Tree of Gondor, he's so planted. Nothing and no one could move him from this spot.

He's going to have perfect line of sight to center stage, as long as no one over 6’3” stands in front of him. He's got his good boots on, giving him a solid three inch lift.

Some people come and go, not as dedicated to keeping their spot. Not Eddie. He's planted.

“You think he moved back?” Some chick yells behind him.

“Doubt it,” her companion yells back, “the point was to get closer.”

“Well I don't know if I can deal with closer. It's only going to get worse when the band goes on, and I'm at my limit for men touching me today.”

“I'm pretty sure there's beer in my hair.”

“A fate worse than death,” she mocks him, making Eddie chuckle. “You wanna bail? He can come find us after.”

“I don't know, Rob, he's just a kid. What if he gets scared?”

“Oh my god, he's sixteen.”

“He's short!” The guy yells shrilly, practically in Eddie's ear. “No way he can see over top everyone's head.”

“Okay, then you stay, dingus. I'm going to go pay $12 for a bottle of water. Come find me after.”

“Rob! C'mon, don't- Rob! Ah shit.”

Eddie almost turns to give the guy some reassurance but he can't, making friends in the crowd is how you end up getting pulled into another direction. He can't chance it. He's planted.

Not to mention his friend was right, the more time that passes, the more packed in they become. Once or twice the guy behind him gets jostled into Eddie's back, mumbling apologies each time. Eddie doesn't bother to reply.

He's determined to ignore the guy until suddenly they're pressed front to back, shoulder to calf, the guys massive hands wrapping solidly around Eddie's waist so they don't fall down, and he's fucked. Suddenly the guy behind him is all he's thinking about.

Of course this turn of events sends the poor guy into apology overdrive, hands ripped back immediately as he stutters his excuses.

Eddie waves it off, still not turning away from the front, but the urge is strong. He kind of needs to see if the guy is as hot as that ten second press against him would suggest. Christ on a bike, he even smells good. At least Eddie is pretty sure that's him, the pine/sugar/sweat combo.

A glance at his watch tells him they've got maybe another ten minutes until the show starts. Five minutes ago that would've been all he would've cared about but now he's got Hot Boy Brain Rot and can't focus.

Which is why the next time they get pushed together, Eddie does absolutely nothing to help correct, he lets the guy pull him back and very nearly fall flat on their asses. The only reason they don't is because they fall into the people pressing forward.

“I swear to god, I'm not doing this on purpose,” the guy says with a chuckle that warms Eddie’s already sweaty skin. He hasn't let go yet, his enormous hands hold Eddie upright, skin on skin where his shirt has been cropped.

He's lost his mind completely, because he puts his own hands on the ones circling his waist and squeeze, a soft acceptance of their predicament. It could mean nothing if the guy is straight - maybe, probably, he's not good at judging that sort of thing - but if the hot guy standing behind him is in any way interested, he'll understand.

And praise Dale, raise hell, he does! Long fingers tighten, slide, tighten, before letting go again. He's pretty sure the guy just stuck his thumbs into the indents at the top of his ass too.

Which is when he realizes there's a not zero percent chance the guy thinks Eddie is a girl.

He forgot he's wearing a kilt, which idiots seem to think is a skirt 70% of the time he has it on. Combining that with his hair being down and the fact that he hasn't turned around at all… Fuck.

You're 6’2” right now. Maybe that's enough of a hint. Or your hairy legs? No, it's way too dark to see that far down, no way he-

Eddie squeaks as the guy runs a finger tip along the edge of the kilt. Luckily, it's too loud for the sound to travel, that would've been devastating.

The guy leans forward and whisper/yells, “Is this okay?” into his ear.

Eddie nods, takes a miniscule step back, bringing himself closer. He's gonna take this as far as he can before they either get kicked out for indecent acts or the guy realizes what he's doing and bashes Eddie for ‘tricking him.’ The smart thing to do would be to fucking turn around and confirm his stupid gender but… it's nice feeling wanted for a moment. Nice enough for whatever the consequences are.

An arm snakes around his middle, a fucking nice arm, all sinewy and freckled and brown, causing a surge of giddiness. They're pressed together again, this time on purpose. The guy seems to instinctively know Eddie has this spot picked out because he doesn't let anyone push them or get between. He does, however, laugh every time they get jostled closer together. It's infectious too, makes him smile along every time he hears that giggle. If the guy doesn't stop being adorable soon, Eddie is gonna fall in love.

Whoops. Too late. There's an enormous cock pressed up against his ass; any semblance of control or ability to play it cool goes right out the window.

He's never been more proud of himself for taking up street hockey with Jeff and his cousins than this moment. Some asshole had said to him, years ago now, ‘No one wants a bottom with a flat ass,’ and Eddie let that settle into a deep seated neurosis that pushed him into sports. Casual sports, that actually turned out to be pretty fun, but still…

Anyway, he's got an ass worth pushing against now, which is doing fantastic things for the whole ‘accidently luring a stranger into simulating sex acts at a concert' thing he's got going on.

Good god are they playing with fire right now. Yeah everyone is distracted by the drum tech setting up but it's not like they're invisible here. The guy to Eddie's left is just as close as the one rubbing off against his ass, if he glances down he's gonna see what they're doing. That thought only brings Eddie closer to finishing, untouched, in his underwear. His own erection is being held down by his boxer briefs, which are always a good choice when wearing a kilt. Shit happens in the pit, he's never been keen on flashing his bare ass to everyone if he takes a header.

He's snaking a hand down, trying to be subtle, but he needs to squeeze his dick or he's going to start crying.

His new friend must catch the movement because his right hand follows the trajectory, sliding right along with Eddie’s, until they're both stalled out, cuping his hip instead of his erection. Eddie thinks about passing out, he's so turned on and terrified. Either the guy knows he's about to touch a human penis or he's about to get an unwelcome surprise.

Before Eddie's heart can explode and kill him, three things happen rapid fire:

The lights go completely dark, signifying the start of the show, which makes the already packed stadium lose its collective shit.

Then there's a call from behind, the dreaded, “Heads up!” Eddie only just manages not to burst into tears as his one true love has to let go to support the weight of the asshole crowd surfing above them. He makes sure to pinch the fucker as he takes the weight of his stupid leg as it goes by.

Then, immediately after, there's another crowd surge as the first lick of Blackened rings out around them. Adrenaline pumps through Eddie like a lava flow, two desires waring within him making it impossible to choose. Does he turn to find the man of his dreams or does he stay the course and watch the greatest metal show of all time?

Considering this is the third time he's seen Metallica live, he turns around.

He's gone. The only people behind him now are two chicks with their tits painted white and gold and a middle aged biker.

Awesome.

He keeps looking but no one near fits the right description, not even close. Why the fuck didn't he turn around and just look at the guy? At least then he'd know who to look for after the show.

It's not like his night is completely ruined or anything. He jumps in the closest pit and takes his disappointment on the poor bastards unlucky enough to crash into him, and he has a splendid time with that. It wasn't his original plan, he wanted to stay center stage and actually watch the show this time, but he's too keyed up to stand still now, better to shove his fellow man and get elbowed for his troubles.

By the time James is wailing out the final insane notes of Battery, Eddie is thoroughly beat. It's a slog getting to the back of the stadium but he's determined to beat the crowd to the pissers. The night was fun and all but he's ready to go. Ready to stick his hand down his pants(kilt), relive the oddest and hottest encounter he's ever experienced, and then forget it ever happened.

He's made it as far as the merch line when a familiar voice yells his name. He looks back and sure enough, Dustin Henderson is waving at him like a semaphore code operator. Goofy ass kid, Eddie loves him to death.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asks after giving him a back slapping hug.

“Surprise early birthday gift, I didn't know until yesterday or I would've told you.” His whole body is thrumming with excitement. It must be his first metal show. You wouldn't know it to look at him, he's got a whole mini-Eddie thing happening, which is adorable.

“That's awesome, dude. You didn't want to stay till the end?”

“I already saw their setlist and calculated the timing just right to get in line before the crowd let out.” Of course he did. “What about you? Taking off?”

“Yeah, I've had…a weird night. Good but weird.”

“You wanna ditch in line? Looks like they still have plenty of T-shirts available.”

He laughs. “Nah, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home. I'll see you Saturday?”

“Totally, wouldn't miss it-”

“There you are! Jesus, Henderson, I thought I lost you. Your mom would kill me if something-”

The guy finally stops bitching but only because he's staring at Eddie like he's seen a ghost.

“Uhh,” Eddie drawls, confused.

“Steve! This is Eddie! You know, from Hellfire, at Tech.”

It would be appropriate for them to shake hands, he thinks, but the guy is just staring at him, going more and more red as the seconds pass. It's a good thing he's pretty because his social skills could use some work.

“Hey dingus, did the beer in your hair finally soak into your brain.” The woman standing to Steve's left knocks on his forehead with a knuckle, making him flinch.

“You guys okay?”

Eddie is too busy being strapped into a roller coaster of emotion to respond to Henderson’s quiry. It can't be this easy, fate has never been this kind or cruel to Eddie, not at the same time. His dream man can't be Dustin's babysitter/big brother Steve. That guy drives a BMW and listens to Supertramp, which he only knows because he followed Dustin out to the parking lot one night. Except, Steve is gorgeous and fun and a good dude who worries about his kids, and is smoking hot.

He knows Steve knows he knows now, his own face has gone beet red, and they're just staring at each other, like some kind of gorgon in a bathroom mirror situation.

“What is this? Why are you being weird?” Steve's girlfriend - Rob? - asks. “Wait, oh my god, is Dustin’s other dad, your imagined arch nemesis, the Guy in the Crowd? Holy shit, he totally is, what are the fucking odds!” She cackles.

Wait. He told her about that? And he knew I'm a guy? And he thought we were nemesis? That's so hot.

Dustin is going on about Steve's apparent low self esteem and how Steve needn't worry about his loyalty and how he loves them both equally, which is sweet, but he and Steve are still just staring at each other.

“I know a good diner around here,” he blurts out when Dustin finally shuts up. “They have all you can eat pancakes.”

Steve's eyes do something devastating, adjacent to cows touching grass for the first time. “I like pancakes.”

“Let's get pancakes.”

“Okay.”

They start walking away, dazed, until Dustin reminds them of his presence, loudly and with much insult. “Steve! You drove us here!”

“Shit.” He turns back. “Right. Sorry. C'mon, we're getting pancakes.”

Dustin looks to Rob, as if to say, ‘What the fuck is going on?’ She replies back with a sort of ‘I don't get paid enough to explain this to children’ and ‘I know, he's hopeless but we love him’ both kinda look.

“What?” Steve asks.

“I'm still in line, dude. I want a T-shirt.”

“But-”

“No buts!” Dustin screeches. “Pancakes can wait!”

Eddie wishes they would figure it out soon, he still has to piss.

Rob, bless her, she's Eddie's new best friend, takes Dustin under her arm and asks Eddie, “Where's the diner?”

“25th and Dudley Ave. Called Roxy's.”

“Got it. Go on, I'll bring your son after he's got his stupid shirt.”

Dustin is the epitome of disbelief. “What! No! Guys, don't leave me with Robin!” He yells, to which Robin responds by putting him in a headlock.

“Go! Run before he figures out what's going on.”

Steve doesn't need to be told twice, apparently, he grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks him toward the exit doors. It’s exciting, running away with Steve, even though they’re only running from Dustin. Still, it leaves them both breathless by the time they get to the end of the block, both laughing about how ridiculous it all is.

“God. Haven't run like that since…well the last time the cops were after me.”

Steve just grins, hands on his knees, looking like a former athlete, all deep breaths and physical therapy style stretching. Fucking hot jocks, ugh.

Eddie wants to mount him.

Which brings them up to the awkward part: acknowledging what happened.

Steve braves it first. “Hey, I, uh, I don't want you to think I go around doing shit like that.”

Eddie, ever the opportunistic asshole, says, “Shit like what?” When Steve's face falls to horror, perfectly timed, and Eddie loses it. “I'm kidding, sorry, I'm just fucking with you. It was definitely me.”

“Dick,” Steve says but he's laughing.

“Yeah, that's me.” They sort of instinctively move away from the street, closer to the less busy side storefronts. “In the interest of honesty, I should tell you, I wasn't entirely sure you knew I wasn't a girl, that's why I sort of hesitated right there at the end, before we got separated.”

Steve looks baffled. “Huh?”

“You know.” He waves at himself. “From the back I could be a tall chick. Cause of the kilt and the hair and everything.”

He shakes his head. “Dude, I saw you from like four rows back. Why do you think I stopped where I did?”

Fuck. Okay. That's…awesome. He jams a whole fistful of hair against his face.

“Also, even if you had turned out to be a tall chick, not a deal breaker. You're fucking hot either way.”

“Okay, Romeo, cool it with the compliments before I make you finish what you started right here.”

Jesus tap-dancing Christ, that smirk should be illegal.

“Right here against the jewelry shop window? I'm not opposed.” Eddie very seriously considers the pros and cons of that but before he finishes, Steve laughs. “Better not. I was promised pancakes. And Lord have mercy if Rob and Henderson get there before we do.”

He's right. God dammit.

“Fine but for the record, which I feel goes without saying, I do put out on the first date.”

Steve laughs. “Never would've guessed.”

By the time they get to Roxy's, Steve has his arm around Eddie's waist, pinkie tucked deep into his kilt.

[auspicioustidings]

Savage

Summary: Request for some Scottish warrior Soap taking an English maiden as a prize.

Words: 3.7k

CWs: Violent non-con (I am so serious, do not ready this if it's not your thing), hardcore smut

–

Authors Note: This is very much a rape fantasy. Traditionally rape fantasies have historical grounding in minorities who felt ashamed of their own desires so had to fantasise a situation in which they were blameless for engaging in a stigmatised action because it was forced. It’s sort of where a lot of the noncon trope in bodice rippers comes from because women in unhappy marriages need a fantasy in which they can get rid of the shame for wanting passionate or rough sex because they imagine they fought against it. A lot more people have rape fantasies than people generally realise and truly a miniscule barely there number of them would ever think it was ok to actually assault someone. All that to say, this is not me condoning anything in real life. If you find fantasies like this don’t do it for you, then do not read it, but don’t then shame people who do. There is psychology behind why people fantasise about these things, it’s pretty normal and you don’t need to be worried that it is some moral failing. Mind your business.

It was a miraculously good match for you, a high ranking soldier of the King’s army. You were technically of noble blood, but just barely. You lived simply, not in a large house but in a small village where you held no sway over anyone else and were treated as common. But the village was close to the border between England and Scotland and every day it became more tense as whispers of raids from villages to the West skittered between houses like rats.

You didn’t know how your uncle had made arrangements for this beneficial marriage for you, but it would get you moving South in a few days time to marry and then you would finally be able to relax with this war much further away from you. You had heard horror stories of what happened to young maidens when savages came pillaging. They said that they didn’t wear anything under those kilts, they said it was to make it easy to bury their cocks in any hot hole they could find. They said they didn’t have any tame qualities, not like the English. Scottish men were feral, the comparison to dogs not holding water because at least dogs could be trained. 

When you retreated to bed you got on your knees to say your prayers. As always you had to beg forgiveness for the licentious thoughts that sent thrills straight to your cunt whenever you thought about the images all those rumours put in your head.

–

The noise of chaos woke you in a panic, heart hammering against your ribcage as the smell of smoke drifted on the air and war cries sounded. You recognised your own kinfolk of course, the battalion of soldiers stationed here to keep eyes on the border. But it was the cries of those animals from the country to the North that sent you scrambling out of bed in only your chemise, knowing you had to run and hide before they could see you.

You slipped out of the bedroom, a frightened little rabbit looking for a burrow to hop into. The smell of smoke was stronger in the main room and you could see the orange glow of flames through the window. Going outside would be a risk, but hiding in here may get you burned to a crisp should this building be lit up. You did not have time to make the decision as the door burst off of its hinges, a muscular man in a blood spattered kilt with a warrior's mohawk and wild eyes panting like a dog as he caught sight of you.

You were frozen, unable to even breathe. And then after a beat his mouth stretched into a horrid manic grin as he bounded towards you. That finally shifted you from freeze to flight as you scrambled back through to the bedroom, trying to get to the small window. You threw the top half of your body through the gap but his rough hands grabbed your naked ankles and yanked you back, hard. You felt the chemise catch on the window frame, the fabric bunching up to completely expose you to him before he let go of your ankles letting you crash to the ground. 

Your knees throbbed from the hard floor and by the time you were trying to crawl away he had his hand in your hair, brutally pulling your head up and craning it to look at him leaning over and getting into your face.

“Hear I have a wee noble bitch on my hands.”

Of course he would know. There were families here who would tell them anything to save themselves and pointing them in the direction of a noble maiden, one who was betrothed to an English soldier at that, would certainly be information that could spare them. The shouts outside sounded more heavily weighted towards those in his own gruff and growling accent now. The English soldiers were losing.

“I-I don’t know what you are talking about ser” you cried gently, not knowing how else to save yourself. 

“Bonnie words” he growled, pulling so sharply at your hair that you thought your scalp might be bleeding and using his other hand to grope meanly at one of your breasts through the rough fabric of your nightwear.

You cried out, feeling the tears immediately spill over and stream down your face. He was so strong, you could barely budge against his hold, and he reeked of blood and fire and sweat and hot arousal. You squeezed your eyes shut and he only growled at you.

“Ye’ll keep those eyes open, yer going tae watch yer wee English cunt take me like a whore or I’ll take yer tight arse instead.”

You choked on a sob and opened your eyes, seeing that his were full of sick glee and heat. The hand groping at your tits moved under the chemise to cup roughly at your sex and he pulled you to your feet by that hand. You screamed at how it felt as he abused you with his hand, grinding the heel against you. You felt a hot flood of bitter shame as he swiped a finger violently through your folds. What he found there made him pause for a moment, his face lighting up in unrestrained glee.

“Fucking English slut. Y’er dripping.”

You had heard women who said it would be better to be wet if they were to be taken against their will. You did not agree. Him knowing that your traitorous body found his rough abuse of it arousing was so humiliating you felt you would rather die. He was so oppressive in his demeanour, so big and aggressive above you that you imagined he may break your bed with what he was about to do to you. How foolish of you to think he would have that level of mercy.

“Going tae show all those bastards how their women take Scottish cock” he laughed, spearing two fingers inside you to their full length with no softness at all and pulling you by them.

You could not breathe. You had never had anything inside you and those two fat fingers felt like they were stretching you so much you would tear. He walked backwards so he could keep them firmly inside you and you stumbled pathetically after him, needing to keep as close to him as possible to stop the painful press against your walls that came from him pulling if you did not move. 

The shame was overwhelming as you emerged, full of his fingers and stumbling after him with tears streaming down your face, to find that your country's soldiers had been defeated with the survivors on their knees, hands bound. You were being paraded in front of them you realised, they had been put right here in the town square so they could bear witness, the Scottish soldiers standing behind them feral and full of lust as they took in their leader pulling you in front of them by the cunt. 

When he ripped his fingers out of you, your knees buckled and a high whine left you. You had went from feeling too full to feeling far, far too empty. You could barely hear anything but the blood rushing through you as your heart hammered. That and him as he taunted the soldiers on their knees. 

“Our women would ne’er let ye touch them, they’d die first. Yer clean wee English princess on the ither hand?” he said, planting a booted foot to your chest and pushing until he had you pinned on your back underfoot, “she’s gagging fir it. Foaming at the gusset tae take strong Scottish cock, put a real warrior in her belly.”

His own men cheered at that and you watched on with horror as he cocked his head at one of them and he began to approach you. 

“Naw a monster though am I my wee slut? Ye’d be wet enough fir one of their small English cocks nae doubt, but fir mine? Going tae need something to help me sink in good and deep.”

The other soldier went to his knees between your legs and you watched as he pulled his throbbing cock from under his kilt, jerking it violently. You tried to move away, his cock so close you could feel the heat of it between your legs, but the boot on your chest held you still. When you tried to close your legs the man touching himself used his other hand to wrench one of your knees until it was touching the ground, using his own knees between your thighs to help him keep your glistening cunt fully on display.

When the head of his cock stroked through your folks, slicking you with his pre-cum and bumping at your clit, you were so overwhelmed that you didn’t quite manage to bite back your moan. They laughed meanly at you as the man found his release, spurting hot cum all over your pussy, smacking his cock against your stomach when he was done to shake off the last drops.

It was filthy, you felt sticky and like you were on fire. The next soldier took his place and spat right on your already disgusting cunt as he began to stroke himself. By the time he had painted you with his seed and the third was started, the man above pressed his foot harder to get your attention and all you could do was stare up into his taunting eyes, trying to focus on him so you could not think of what was going on between your legs. You cried up at him, trying to find any level of sympathy in him.

“Keep crying and I’ll gie ye something tae cry about princess.”

Oh you hated him calling you that when you were pinned down in the dirt, defeated soldiers of your country watching as their enemies smeared their cum all over your exposed body. Watching as they made a sloppy mess out of you in preparation for their leader to shove his cock deep inside and pump you full of his savage children.

You did not know how long you stared up at him, not able to look away as you felt the heat of his men on your body, your own body getting hotter and hotter with each slide of velvety throbbing skin against your own. He had started to talk to you, his eyes not budging. It wasn’t the defeated soldiers he was taunting, it was you, ruined and disgraced under his boot.

“See how good I am tae ye little whore? Letting my men make ye flush wi pleasure. Don’t deny it, think I cannae see yer face whenever ye feel a cock on that wee untouched pussy? Like a fucking bitch in heat. I’ll fuck ye like one. Get ye on yer hands and knees so ye can look yer precious King’s soldiers in the eye when ye fall apart on my cock. When ye’r fucking begging for my cum. Wilnae even have tae dae any work, ye’ll be fucking yourself back on me ye needy slut.”

You shook your head in horror at his claims, the true fear being that he would make them true. Already you felt in a daze, felt empty and desperate. But you felt fear as well as he put his arm under his kilt, rucking the fabric up to grab at his cock. It was huge and you found yourself panicked and squirming as the last of his soldiers grunted and slapped the meat of your thigh to get you to stay still. You were rambling incoherently as the man above stroked slowly at himself, causing that thick weapon between his legs to throb and seem even bigger. 

“It won’t fit, it’s not going to fit, please I’ll die, you’ll split me open. It’s so big no no I can’t, I can’t!”

You didn’t even feel the last of his soldier’s loads splatter onto you, didn’t notice when his hands left your flesh. You would have rapidly purpling skin in the shape of fingerprints all over your thighs from how you had been held still by all of them, but you could not feel the dull pain of it through your fear of what was to come.

“Ye’ll take whit I gie ye and ye’ll fucking thank me princess.”

He removed his foot and it was only then you realised that he had been pressing down hard enough that your breaths had been shallow. The rush of oxygen from being able to fully expand your lungs again made you horribly dizzy, but it also flooded right down to your clit and made your body jerk violently with the sensation. 

He didn’t take his hand from his cock and he bent so he could use the other to grab your ruined hair again, yanking your head up and shoving himself into your mouth. You choked, legs scrambling to get underneath you to give you some stability with which to batter your fists against his thighs, trying to pull away. He laughed meanly at your attempts, moving the hand that was touching himself to join the one tangled in your hair on the back of your head and pulling your head at the same time as he thrust forward, settling himself fully in your throat. 

You were gagging around him, tears really streaming down your face now as you begged him with your eyes to let you breathe. He held you there, his own eyes glittering with satisfaction, until your muscles started to give in and you felt your eyes dropping closed as your brain became cottony. Then all at once he pulled you off and you were gulping in oxygen around your coughing and sputtering, the rush much more intense this time. 

He held your head tilted up at him so he could watch your face as he shoved his boot between your legs and got you over the edge. Oh weren’t you a delicious little thing for him, getting off so hard on how he used you, moaning shakily and wantonly in the dirt beneath him in front of his triumphant soldiers and your defeated ones. 

“Good fucking girl” he growled with a feral grin, letting you ride it out with little aborted thrusts on his boot, unable to control your body. 

You looked gone, eyes glazed and body slack. Couldn’t have that, he needed you screaming for him. He needed your blood fighting between being frozen with terror and boiling with need. And he needed you full of him, needed to be able to feel his own cock through your stomach so fucking clearly that he could jerk it. 

You were thrown forward, top half of your body collapsing pathetically into the dirt right where it was covered in the sweat and cum of his soldiers. He manhandled your hips up, leaving your face crushed into the dirt and your ass up high for him, cunt presented. You felt his hot breath at your ear and it was a sudden shock when you realised he was growling lowly into your ear, his words for you and you only.

“S’going tae hurt, yer going tae scream yerself hoarse for me and then I’ll get ye tae milk me when I rip pleasure out of all that pain. Will treat ye right after little princess, like one of my good Scottish lassies, but right now ye’r my fucking English whore.”

The confusing mix of sentiments cleared some of the fuzziness from your mind but you had no time to dwell. He was right, it did hurt and you did scream yourself hoarse. He had lined himself up and plunged into you, cock coated and slick from the cum of his soldiers but no less huge inside your tight virgin pussy. He had split you in two, you were sure of it. His cock must have broken through you, was sitting in your ribcage and punching all the air from your lungs.

You blacked out for a moment, coming right back to when he pulled out to fuck brutally back into you again, slapping your ass so hard that you felt the sting all the way up to your fingertips and making you choke on the sob that fought through the screaming. He ripped at your hair, making you look at the defeated soldiers on their knees. Making you watch their own cocks swell at your treatment. Your utter ruination was making them hard. Your head being wrenched back meant you had to go to your hands as he pounded you, and you saw how they looked as one of your breasts was fucked right out of the chemise, bouncing lewdly for them to see with every hard thrust.

The humiliation had you digging into the dirt like you had claws, feeling the bite of the earth pushing under your nails. It sparked something in your brain, almost like you could see them sharpen. Like you could feel your shoulder blades become more pronounced, become something sinewy and sleek and animal. He was fucking you like a predator and you were drooling and howling and panting like his prey, back bowed as he pulled your hair harder and had to staring at the sky babbling prayers into the night air. 

“S’too much, can’t, I can’t. Full, too full.”

“Ye fucking can. Yer tight fucking cunts trying tae strangle me, wants my cum so bad naw? Perfect English pussy, so slutty and needy for a real cock” he growled, hand letting go of your hair and smacking your ass right over where he had before, causing you to howl at the pain. 

The pain and something else, something that had no place here and yet had been lingering from the moment he had caught you. Something that had been getting closer and brighter and more insistent with every abuse you were subject to. Something that he invited in when your arms collapsed beneath you without him holding your heads weight anymore and he ground your face into the ground before bringing his hand to your clit and pinching. 

Your scream was raw and hoarse, throat well past being able to produce a clear sound. The orgasm was blinding and every bone felt like it had liquified. You saw white and then you saw hardly anything, only vague shapes and colours. The only thing now was how his cock filled you. The shame was gone, replaced with the truth that you loved this. You loved how he used you like this, how he violated you in front of these soldiers just because he could.

“That’s it princess, fucking take it” he hissed, stopping his thrusts and letting you do all the work.

You didn’t even realise now how you wildly fucked yourself back on his cock trying to chase the pain of overstimulation, addicted to the way it made you feel some sick hazy pleasure. You were drooling onto the dirt, tasting the earth mixed with cum and finding the disgust of it only felt right now. When his hand came to your stomach and pushed to feel himself bulging there you came again, harder, babbling thank yous to him.

He bit out a string of curses above you as your pussy squeezed so hard it was forcing him out, but he was strong as he forced himself balls deep and held there, finding his release as you milked everything out of him and into your womb. The liquid heat of it was the last thing you felt as you passed out, blissed and fucked out of your mind. 

–

John MacTavish allowed himself a moment to lean his body against your back, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt and cum and fear and lust from your limp body. So good for him, took it perfectly. He hissed when he finally pulled out, resisting the temptation to just keep going beyond what would feel good because fuck, being inside you had been a religious experience. 

He was nothing if not a man of his word though, and he scooped your body gently into his arms to get you onto a horse and ready for him to take over the border where he could give you that princess treatment he had promised. The surviving soldiers they would leave beaten and bloodied but not dead. After all, someone had to tell your betrothed all the details.

-

“Fucking MacTavish” he hissed after excusing the man who had given the report.

He had made him give it in full detail, told him to leave nothing out. 

“Kept her alive by the sounds of it, maybe looking to get a bastard out of her” Garrick mused.

“Knowing him he’ll keep her near the border to taunt us instead of moving her further up North” Price added.

Simon Riley would not be letting his betrothed get away with allowing MacTavish of all people to take the maidenhood that rightfully belonged to him. She needed a proper punishing fuck from an English man to learn better.

“Doesn’t matter where he keeps her. I’m going to take her, and she’s going to learn what happens to sluts who spread their legs for those Scottish bastards”.

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Academy! Coryo x Academy!Reader,

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus is a warning in and of itself. Smut, p in v, tittie sucking, tittie fucking, cum licking, groping, cussing, first time, just the tip is NEVER just the tip, Obsessed!Coryo, Big Breasted!Reader, Pervy!Coryo, Virgin!Coriolanus, Virgin!Reader, Shy!Reader

When you hit puberty you begin developing breasts faster than your peers. When the other girls are in training bras you're wearing an underwire. And then when everyone hit high school at the Academy, well they're in cute little demi-bras and Lacey bralettes while you're in full coverage/support bras. You have a drawer full of underwires, front closures, etc. Yes, your bras are cute too, but unlike the other girls at the Academy you have to go to a special bra/lingerie shop that specializes in products for large breasted women.

Your mother was shocked that you're so busty since she's on the smaller side. Your older brother, Rein, was so afraid that you'd be taken advantage of or find yourself in trouble with boys because of having big boobs at such a young age. He more of less big boob shamed you (which you learned after dating your boyfriend wasn't cool) and convinced you to wear larger/baggy shirts to hide the size of your boobs.

So for years you listened to your brother and wore larger shirts. Underneath your shirts you always had a strappy tank or a cami on over your bra, to work as an undershirt/barrier between your skin and the larger, baggy shirts you always wore.

One day, when you're in your senior year literature class, you feel like you're being watched. As if somebody's breathing down your neck. You look over your shoulder, trying to catch whoever’s staring you down in the act, only to see your classmate with his head buried in his book.

Coriolanus Snow.

You've known him since kindergarten. He's best friends with Sejanus Plinth. You're friends with both of them, but it's not like you hang out with them alot. Or actually it's not like you hang out with Coriolanus a lot. You hang out with Sej. In fact your mother encourages it. But you think that's cause his family's filthy rich.

You just brush off your feelings as silly, as being paranoid. The boy with a halo of light golden curls wasn't leering at you, he had his prominent nose in his copy of The Crucible. He was the top of your class; very serious and studious.

Of course he's engrossed in his book. The same book you and the rest of the class are reading.

It's about the Salem Witch Trials thousands of years ago in a New England colony of North America during the Pre-Panem times. The book's actually a screen play by a famous writer- Arthur Miller. Your teacher says that there's a film too; that once the class has finished reading the book, testing on it, and writing the thesis on it, then the class will watch the movie.

Oh, you can't wait for that.

You go back to reading your book, causing Coriolanus to let out a tiny breath he didn't even know he was holding. The top student was, in fact, staring at you like you hung the moon and stars. Truth be told, he stares at you in the few classes you share.

Coriolanus always sits behind you, looking at you longingly. He's known you for at least 12 years now, but it wasn't until this year that he realized he needs you.

Biblically!

Coriolanus is enthralled by you. There's just something about you, he can't quite put his finger on it, that makes his cock twitch and his balls tingle. His palms go sweaty and his mouth waters. He can't look at you without getting hard.

Hell, he's thankful for the godforsaken kilt that's apart of the Academy uniform otherwise he'd have visible wet spots (cum stains) on the crotch of his pants. Yes, he cums just by staring at you and fantasizing about all the things he wants to do with you.

God, how he wants to fuck your pussy for bad. You're such a smart, sweet girl and he's got a dark desire to fuck you dumb. He also wants to fuck your throat until your vocal chords are shit to hell. Damn, he wouldn't mind tearing up your ass either.

And of course, he wants to eat your cunt. He also wants to suck on your titties. Coriolanus will never admit it, but he's a boob guy. Bigger the boobiea the better.

But that's the only thing about you that puzzles him. Your boobs. He can't get a good estimate on their size by looking at you because you always wear baggy and loose shirts.

Coriolanus often imagined what your tits look like underneath your light blue uniform shirt. He hopes that one day he gets the chance to find out.

Almost being caught staring at you was what Coriolanus needed to give him the courage to approach you. He's been staring at you like a creep since Fall and it's now late Spring, so it's time to make his intentions known.

Coriolanus’ icy blue eyes look at you from over his book as he hatches a plan to get you to go out with him. He knows that you're friends with Sejanus and that the big bear of a boy has a crush on you, so he needs to make his move fast.

Maybe after class?

Yes, Coriolanus decides he'll approach you after class.

You're packing your stuff up in your Academy issued leather satchel whenever a shadow falls over you. You look at, curious to see who's casting a shadow over you, only to see Coriolanus’ tall form towering over you.

“Hi, Coriolanus.” You smile, closing your satchel.

“Please, Y/N, call me Coryo.” The handsome blonde boy insists with a smile.

“Okay, Coryo.” You agree to use the nickname while slinging the satchel over your shoulder. “So?...”

“I was wondering, my darling, if you, perhaps, would like to eat lunch with me?”

“Are you asking me out on a date to the mess hall for lunch?”

“Yes?” Coryo smiled, sounding nervous.

You thought it was so cute how Coriolanus Snow, who's usually so composed and confident, was a bundle of nerves asking you on a lunch date. His cheeks were flushed and the tips of his ears were pink.

“Okay, let's go.” You tell him, smiling happily.

And that's the moment that Coryo snagged you up as his girl.

You've been with Coryo for a couple of months now and the boy's eager to get into your panties. So eager that if he doesn't fuck you soon then he's going to explode and die. Well, not really just metaphorically, but still…If he doesn't get to stick his desperate over horny, pervy big cock into your tight virgin cunt he's going to lose his mind.

And it's not like his sanity's that stable to begin with. He's already a bit obsessive with you.

The 10th Hunger Games is fastly approaching and nobody really gives a shit. There's commercials for it on CapitolTV, but people’s grown bored of it. It'll be airing in about 3 weeks, starting with the reaping on July 4th.

And of course in your social studies class you're learning about the reason for the games- again. The Academy teaches it every year. It's overkill really. Of course, your teacher assigned a group project about the good of the games, blah blah blah. You could care less, but of course your boyfriend volunteers to be your partner for the project.

And he cares.

Not about the games, but the grade that the project on the good of the games can grant the two of you.

So, that's how you find yourself in your bedroom on your bed books scattered around and a poster board on the floor one afternoon after school. Your mother's staying the week with her boyfriend, trying to fuck and marry her way out of living paycheck to paycheck, so you're home alone with Coryo.

Which is why your project supplies are scattered all over and Coryo's got you in his lap, tongue shoved down your throat as he kisses you like a starving man that's just been given his first meal in years.

You've kissed Coryo before a few times since you've been dating, but nothing like this. Nothing were you're all alone with no one to interrupt you, where you have the freedom to maul each other's faces off while breathlessly melding your lips together and rocking your lower bodies together.

Coryo hasn't been able to cop a feel of your boobs yet, since you've never been alone for too long or always had the fear of somebody walking into the room on you. But now, since you've got your apartment all to yourselves for a few days, your boyfriend with the light golden blonde curls is finally able to fondle your tits. Unknown to him, you're very busty.

And unknown to you, Coryo's a simple man with simple tastes when it comes to a woman's body. He's a classic T&A man.

He loves himself some good old tits and ass. And the bigger the titties the better.

Coryo's mouth pulls away from yours, leaving a messy trail of spit hanging between your kiss swollen lips. As you pant, trying to catch your breath, your boyfriend's leaving sloppy open mouth kisses along your jawline and down your neck. You feel warmth pooling between your legs and let out a little mewl, but then your eyes go wide as you feel Coriolanus' large hands each grab at one of your large breasts.

Coryo smiled into the crook of your neck as he realizes that you're hiding some big ole boobies underneath your loose fitting uniform shirt. Fuck, he squeezes your big boobs again while lifting his head up. A wide, manic grin spreads over Coryo's face. “You're hiding some big titties under this baggy shirt, huh, baby?”

“Coryo…” You sigh, feeling a bit embarrassed, while trying to squirm away from him.

“What's wrong, Y/N?” Coryo asks, feeling a bit rejected as you try to push him away. “I thought we were having a good time fucking around?”

“We were but then…” You trail off, only to wave a hand in front of your big boobs.

Coriolanus’ brow knitted and his nose twitched slightly in disbelief. “What? You mean you're embarrassed that I grabbed your perfect, squeezable tits?”

“It's embarrassing to be 18 and have boobs bigger then some grown women, Coryo. It's-” You began to explain why you're self conscious about your big breath only for him to, oh so eloquently (not) interrupt you with, “That's bullshit, Y/N.”

You blinked at him, unsure of how to react to his sudden outburst.

“I like titties; ass too, and believe me the bigger the better.” Your boyfriend, who’s usually so prim and proper, bluntly tells you.

“Yea?” You ask a bit thickly, feeling all of your nerves fluttering in your stomach like butterflies.

“Yea.” Coryo nods, a lopsided grin on his lush lips. “How ‘bout you show me what's underneath your shirt? Hmm?” He suggests, waggling his brows.

“Okay.” You nod, causing your boyfriend to quickly unbutton your shirt.

But as soon as he pushes your open shirt over your shoulders he's signing in frustration. Tilting his head and giving you a sideways look, he dryly asks, “Why're you wearing another shirt for?”

“I always wear a cami over my bra. It's a barrier between my skin and the loose fitting shirt; it also slims down the bulk of my boobs.” Was the explanation You gave your stumped boyfriend.

“Well, I don't think that you need to do that anymore, Y/N. And, darling, I also think that you need to wear shirts that actually fit you.” Coryo tells you his honest opinion while grabbing the hem of your strappy camisole, he pulls it up. You raised your arms, letting him pull it up over your head. Tossing it over his shoulder, he licked his lips as he saw your big boobs threatening to spill out of your bra. “Let's free these puppies, shall we, baby?” He rhetorically asked, icy eyes gleaming with joy.

You nod and unhook your bra for him. As soon as you finish taking off your simple, but supportive bra, your boyfriend's on you like a magnet. His hands are grabbing and jiggling your large breasts while he burries his face in your cleavage.

Coryo feels like he died and went to Elysium as he sucks and nips the the sides of your boobs, where your cleavage is. Oh gods, how he loves your big ol’ boobies. Being face first in them turns him on, makes him harder than he's ever been in his entire life.

Coryo pays your big breasts lots and lots of attention. He sucks, kisses, and nips them all over before alternating sucking and pinching your nipples. He massages, gropes, jiggles, and fondles your big tits. He even takes his shirt off and makes you ride his thigh while your chests are pressed together.

Fuck, he just loves the feel of your perfectly big titties.

You're laying on your bed, legs spread wide open as Coryo fucks you with just the tip of his cock. Because just the tip doesn't count. It's not real sex if it doesn't go all the way in.

At first the two of you agreed to mutual.masterbation sitting across from each other on your bed. But then with how horny and pervy your boyfriend is, that turned into you two practically inches away from each other with him saying that the tip of his cock would feel so good in your cunt. That you could rub your clit and get off while he could jack off and get off.

At first you were iffy about it, saying that you've never done anything like that before. But he assured you that if you didn't like it then he'd stop.

Well, as it turns out you really liked it and he didn't stop.

“Coryo, your tip feels so good.” You mewl, rubbing your clit as you were trying to satisfy that itch you needed to scratch, that tingling feeling twitching deep inside of your wet cunt.

“Fuck, baby.” Coryo half groaned, pumping his shaft while lightly thrusting the tip of his cock in and out of your juicy wet cunt. His large cock’s red and angry with arousal. If he doesn't fuck you, really fuck you balls deep, then he's going to go completely insane.

Not like he isn't already halfway to looney tunes town already, but still…

“Baby, please, just let me slide my cock all the way in. Let me fuck you; make us both feel so good.”

“But I don't have the birth control implant; were too young for an accident.”

“How bout after you cum I pull out and tittie fuck you; cum all over ‘em big ol’ titties I love.” Coryo suggested while bucking his hips a tiny bit harder; making his tip slide a little bit deeper into your slippery wet cunt. A cunt that wants to greedily suck his cock inside of her warm, wet depths.

“Okay.” You nod. “But you have to promise to pull out and cum my tits, Coryo.”

“I will, baby. I promise, I will “ Coryo quickly swears before slamming his hips into yours and sliding his cock past your barrier and into the tight, hot, wet canal of your virgin cunt.

Or should he say no longer virginal cunt. Just like his 8 inch cock's no longer a virgin cock. Oh, how he loves the fact that he's finally fucking you after so long.

Coryo, having never fucked anyone before (just his fist and he's desperately humped his pillow a few times while fantasizing about you too, but he'll never admit) was a bit jumpy and all over the place with his movements. His thrusts were uneven and all too buckled. You were feeling desperate for some kind of relief so you start canting your hips up, chasing your high. A high that you desperately need.

Your hips rising up to meet his grounded your boyfriend's thrusts, gave him a guide on how to pace himself. Well, how to pace himself as best as he could cause he still wasn't really slowing down or something out of his motions.

It's only his first time (yours too) so it's going to take a couple more times of exploring each other to get more comfortable with fucking. He's a horny teenager after all.

Seeing your big tits bouncing around as he fucking you desperately into the mattress had Coryo in a trance. Goddamn, how he loves watching your big boobies jiggling around. The sounds of them smacking against your skin was like music to his ears.

The platinum blonde with a halo of curls dipped his head down and began sucking on one of your nipples while squeezing and smacking your other boob with his large hand. His free forearm was bracing the mattress, keeping him balanced and upright as he frantically fucked you like a bitch in heat.

Oh god how your tight pussy felt so good around his cock. And playing with your big titties as he rutted against you was.the icing on the cake.

The feeling of his large cock sliding in and out of your cunt, slamming into your special spongy spot, paired with the feeling your his mouth and his hands on your boobs had you nearing your peek. One on your hands was on his shoulder, nails digging into the skin; sure to leave marke, while the other was between your legs rubbing your clit.

“I'm so close, Coryo.” You whine, causing him to pull his mouth off of your boob with a loud pop.

‘Let me play with your pussy, baby.” He tells you, batting your hand away from your pussy only to replace it with his own. As his thumb quickly rubs fast circles against your clit, he fucks you fast while ordering, “Fondle your titties for me, baby.”

So, as he continues to pound you fast and desperately, you play with your nipples and grab at your big boobs- just like Coryo told you too.

Suddenly, the feeling of everything’s too much and the dam breaks. White hot pleasure shoots thru you as you let out a mix of curses and Coryo's name.

Coriolanus groans as he feels you soak his dick. The feeling is heaven. It feels so good. He continues to fuck into you until your panting and coming down from your high, then he's quickly pulling out of you and scrambling to straddle your chest.

“Y/N, hold your tits together so I can fuck the space between them.” Your boyfriend instructs you, causing you to quickly do as you're told. He quickly positions his dick in your cleavage only to start bucking his hips back and forth.

A throaty moan fell from his throat as he held onto your headboard, looking down at the sight of his cock slipping between your big breasts. “Oh, fuck…that's so hot…” Coryo chokes out in a deep moan. He watched his cock slip in and out, in and out of the tight space you made for him between your perfect breasts by holding them together.

And suddenly, with a final thrust,.his balls are twitching and he's emptying out rope after rope of hot, thick, cum on your boobs.

You stop holding your boobs as Coryo carefully stops straddling your chest and takes his place next to you on the bed. You thought that he was going to reach over to grab some tissues from your bedside table, but he didn't. Instead, Coryo used his tongue to clean the thick, pearly cum off of your boobs.

Yes!

Your boyfriend's so obsessed with your big titties that he licked them clean.

That shocked you.

And then after your big boobies are clean, Coryo kisses you passionately. You can taste the slight saltiness of his cum on his tongue as he slips it into your mouth. It's a very erotic kiss, to say the least.

When you break apart for air, Coryo gives you a satisfied smirk. Pulling you into his chest as he lays back in your bed, he tells you, “That was perfect, baby.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he tells you, “We need to get you some shirts that show off my beloved big boobies better. How can I go back to not seeing them on display after what we've just done?”

“I’ll talk to the Academy’s uniform department, get a couple of new shirts in my right size.” You tell Coryo, causing him to smile like a kid in a candy store.

Your project for your social studies class was half-assed and you had to skip your lunch period to work on it in the library since you spent the entire week meant to work on it fucking Coryo. But it all worked out. You and Coryo ended up getting an A+ on the project. You and Coryo also had lots of fun fucking each other and learning each other's bodies.

But one thing that never changed is how obsessed Coryo is about your large breasts. He's so obsessed with them that he'll just cuddle with you and rest his head on them. Something that freaks out your mutual friend, Sejanus Plinth, when he witnesses it at school during lunch and break periods.

But what can you can say? Coryo’s obsessed with your big boobs, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

Especially when the mentoring project comes around…

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[ohmerricat]

another really well-designed visual storytelling element of dot and bubble is the decision to have the fifteenth doctor star in it wearing his “doctoriest” costume yet. doctor outfits vary, of course, but a unifying trait is some kind of suit/smart-casual style and long jacket — subverted in many cases, obviously, but even thirteen wears the long hoodie and suspenders, and twelve’s punk fits still follow roughly the same template, nine has his leather jacket doing the job — whereas fifteen has most noticeably stepped outside that mold for the past few episodes, starting with the kilt and open-shouldered vest (!) in TCORR, then the t-shirts and, in general, far less rigidity.

but in Dot and Bubble, you take one look at this man and know: he’s the Doctor. which is why it creates such a powerful feeling of juxtaposition — all this ‘Doctor-aura’ posturing that usually works on side characters straight away completely fails to have any kind of effect in the face of unabashed, impenetrable bigotry. the clothing is a kind of uniform, it provides reassurance that this man *is* the doctor, that he’s come to rescue you, that he’s the same person he’s always been. but not to the residents of finetime.

since time immemorial (the second doctor’s era, but maybe even earlier, i haven’t seen much hartnell so correct me if i’m wrong) the doctor’s been asked — “why am i talking to you, why am i telling you my secrets?” and he’s always replied that he has a “face you can trust”. it’s time lord magnetism. people are naturally drawn to him. he commands a room. people begin to follow his orders because they know on some primal, innate, subconscious level that this entity is going to help them survive and make their existence better.

which is why it’s so jarring when they don’t. the racism, privilege and prejudice that clouds their eyes is genuinely so strong that it almost works like a perception filter, blocking out the doctor’s natural charisma, his bottomless kindness, all of the superhuman qualities that make him irresistible. they don’t see the charming 2000-year-old Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey that is going to “save their lives and everyone else’s”, long jacket fluttering out behind him as he runs, holding his hand outstretched like a beacon of hope. they see a Black man and nothing else, and that puts him beneath them no matter what he says, no matter what he does, how he proves that *he’s the Doctor*. to fascists, race stands above everything. you can be accomplished, talented, wise, clever, brilliant, but to them, the simple fact of the colour of your skin renders you unworthy. and that’s why they’re beyond saving.

[thisisnotthenerd]

something echoes of the solstice really pulled into sharp relief is just how good of a player sam riegel is.

like. the bait and switch of veth not going but luc jumping into the portal as a bratty teenager with stolen gear. level 5 arcane trickster and level 3 wizard (unsure of subclass, likely transmutation. edit: war magic). terrifying that a teenager is on a mission with god-level characters. horrifying to think about. i hope they have a fjorester wedding oneshot like dalen's closet that luc is still grounded at.

adding chaos to the party immediately. everyone put protections on him, as much as they could. he said i'm here to bring a reminder of what the mighty nein was and is. and buttering up the party was deeply funny. especially seeing the dichotomy between caleb and fjord's responses.

sidenote: shoutout to daniel sloss for being another spurt. fully a crash dummy drunken master monk in a kilt. it must have been so cool. triggering traps so the nein didn't take damage within the archive. put the fear of death in luc.

anyway, look at how effective luc was. the invisible mage hand. experimental potion from yeza, which i suspect gave him hp and asis temporarily, but not an expanded spell list. see invisibility in the house to catch trent, when none of the rest of the party could find him, which prompted the antimagic field, beau's hits, and the transition to the second battle map. enlarge on the t-rex for kaiju battle. and the first to damage the egg with a 28 on his attack roll with the security cannon. as a level 8 among level 20s. luc got so much experience out of that battle. no more dying in the fire plane for luc, no sirree.

only 1st and 2nd level spells at base. pretty much comparable to an 8th level spellcaster sidekick or 4th level spellcaster main. big moves from a small lad.

and he's still grounded at the end of the day.

anyway this is a sam riegel/luc "nott the reckless" brenatto appreciation post. he plays a rogue-wizard very well.

[outlanderskin]

Sam Heughan at LandCon6 2024.

It was a good panel. The questions needed pre-approval so there were no awkward questions. This was good because for once no one mentioned the old kilt story😬. Sam is much more used to these types of events now. I saw him at his first Con in 2015 and I remember how carefree he was. Today, carelessness is calculated. He gives interesting answers, but always tries to put a joke at the end of everything. I found it interesting that he said he cried during the reading circle, when he heard the song ... It was a powerful moment for him and I can imagine how much it will hurt to say goodbye to Jamie Fraser. Yes, he talked about Caitríona being a director in the two private meetings and on the panel. Apparently nobody asked, but he made sure to include it. I took our photo from 2015 to him to autograph and his smile reminded me of the same smile he gave when he saw the sign we held for that photo. He wrote a thank you, in my native language before signing it. My gift, a Dad Jokes book, was also very well received. He was dressed normally (jeans and polo shirt), he didn't seem rushed, he took time for everyone during the private events, autographs and in the numerous photo sessions. A friend who went to Whiskey Taste said it was very good, very professional.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Highlands and Full Hearts 🌧

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Highlander!Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x reader

《A/N》: First of all, THIS IS NOT HISTORICALLY ACCURATE!! This is fiction. I did do some research about the Great Kilt, but that's it. This is purely for fun! I highly suggest checking out Fandabi Dozi on YouTube. Even just to take a peak so you can get a better idea of what Johnny's wearing <3

《Content》: NSFW. proceed with caution. Cuddlefucking, unprotected PiV, nipple play, cockwarming. This is so silly and cute, and I love it, and I hope you will too!!

The ask is here!

《WC》: 3.5k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of heart and effort into the things I write.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

It was as if the Gods were damning you, cursing you to a cold death as the sky opened up, breaking in two as heavy rain started pouring from it like currents in the mighty sea.

The wide open hills left trees to be desired to seek shelter from this flood. What you wouldn't do for the protection of a blanket of green hanging far above your head. The grass turned slippery and you had to watch your step so you wouldn't tumbled down into the nearest glen.

Johnny had you tucked close to his side, trying his best to cover you from the heaviest pour with his Plaid. The thick woolen fabric warmed you up despite the wetness as the two of you quickly made your way across the Highlands, hoping to find somewhere warm and dry to escape certain death.

His bonnet sat atop his head, the few wet curls that were peaking out of the hat sticking to his forehead. The white shirt he wore was clinging tightly to his chest, the soaked fabric accentuating his broad chest. The hem of your skirt was stained with green and brown hues of grass and mud.

Thankfully, Johnny's Great Kilt kept most of the water away from your torso, the water running down the wool in fat rivulets. Just as you were thanking the gods for his Plaid, you thanked yourself for insisting on the woolen socks that kept your feet warm and dry. You glanced over at Johnny, rain dripping from his brow as he rolled his shoulder with a grunt, the pack frame digging into his back.

"How far are we out? I swear we didn't stray from the path, did we?" You asked with uncertainty, your voice already muffled by the sound of the rain pounding on the ground.

"Jus' through this glen right there an' we should find some trees, at least." He gave you an encouraging smile while he, himself, had a twinkle of worry in his wonderfully blue eyes, something you'd never miss.

The only thing you could muster was a tight-lipped smile as all the worrisome thoughts knocked around in your head like a woodpecker on a strong oak.

Although his kilt and body heat were keeping you warm, you couldn't help but let your brows furrow in concern at his soaked shirt. He would surely catch his death like this, something you were too stubborn to let happen. Death would have to pry him from your grip before you'd let him go anywhere.

You ducked away from the shield that was his Plaid and tucked it across his chest.

"What are you doin'?" He asked, almost frantically, as he reached up to his shoulder to pull the fabric free.

The rain was now soaking your previously dry hair, the drops running down your neck.

"You'll catch your death! I'll be alright for now." You replied firmly, cupping his hand with yours and pulling it away from the Kilt to intertwine your fingers.

His lips parted slightly.

"Absolutely no'. I'm not lettin' ya get sick." Johnny argued, already fiddling with the corner of the Plaid that you had tucked away.

"Don't you argue with me! I'm not letting you get sick either." You stood your ground, more figuratively than literally as the soft mud was making you sink into the earth.

Johnny sighed, dropping his hand, the other never leaving the tight grasp of yours. Arguing now would be of no use, shelter was the priority right now.

He could scold you when you were dry and warm. You took a step, catching a particularly slippery patch of grass. With a yelp, you fell, terror tearing through your chest as you prepared yourself to tumble down the hill through wet mud and sharp rocks. Johnny, however, managed to catch your arm, making your fall end on your knees.

"Careful, mo leannan." He scolded softly, pulling you up from the ground and tucking you into his side with a tight grip around your shoulders.

"Thank you." You breathed, blood rushing in your ears, your ribcage suddenly feeling all too small for your rapidly beating heart.

He wordlessly pressed a kiss to your temple, urging you to fasten your pace. The wet grass and mud squelched beneath your feet as your hope for shelter dwindled by the second.

The water was starting to soak through your dress, making a shiver run visibly down your spine. From the corner of his eye, Johnny had caught the subtle movement and untucked his Plaid and wrapped it around your shoulders.

"Johnny-"

"No." He said sternly, keeping his eyes forward toward the horizon.

You kept quiet. The only thing now filing the silence between the two of you was the heavy rain, a sound both sending dread and a soothing feeling through you.

Trusting Johnny to keep you on your feet, you took the liberty of looking past the part of the Kilt shielding your view. His was still forward. You turned your head in all directions, hoping to spot a tree or maybe bush you might've missed.

Instead, a dark structure caught your eye. Your face lit up, no matter what you'd spotted, it would keep the rain from pounding against your skull.

"Look!" You exclaimed, pointing toward your discovery and eagerly pulling Johnny in its direction.

"Shelter at last." He sighed, breaking into a smile.

You hurried up the small hill, revealing the structure to be a small and lonely cabin built from wood and stone. You'd hoped that whoever lived in it wouldn't possess a cruel heart and let you and your lover warm up inside. If not, well, Johnny could be very persuasive.

You rasped your knuckles on the heavy wooden door, waiting for a response. When no response came, you tried calling out.

"Hello? Is anyone in there?"

Still, no reply. You looked at Johnny with furrowed brows. He had a thoughtful look on his features, as if pondering between decisions before he reached out a hand to get inside. Your eyes widened and grasped his arm.

"Johnny, no! We can't just go inside-"

"I'm sure they won't mind." He shrugged, pushing open the door and ushering you inside.

The complaint on your lips died quickly as you stepped into the dry room. A sigh of relief slipped past your lips when the door fell shut behind you and the rain wasn't pouring down on you anymore.

Your gaze flitted over the interior of the cabin. It was sparse, but enough to get you and Johnny through the night and until the rain stopped.

"Surely it's not abandoned.." you mumbled, walking around.

"A huntin' cabin, maybe?" He said, looking around himself.

There was a table with a pair of chairs and in the corner stood a bed with a strong wooden frame. The centerpiece of this humble abode, however, was the stone fireplace.

"No matter. Let's hope the owners won't come back until we can continue our way home."

Johnny took the pack frame off his back and set it down, stretching his arms with a groan.

"Jus' us for miles, Ah bet." You spotted a pile of firewood by the bed, carrying arm fulls to the fireplace.

"We need to start a fire. Need to dry off." You said, arranging the logs.

Johnny kneeled down beside you and pulled his flint stones from his pocket and started on getting a tiny spark into a raging flame. While he was working on the fire, you busied yourself with laying down the sheep skins Johnny kept rolled up on this pack frame near the fireplace.

You were already intruding in someone's home, you were drawing the line at sleeping in their bed, too. The flame crackled to life, making Johnny hum. Taking off his soaking bonnet, he shook his head, his wet hair making droplets of rain fly across the room.

You giggled, shielding yourself from them as he ran a hand through his tussled mohawk.

The next thing to come off was his soaked shirt which he draped over his pack frame to let it dry. He's never looked this handsome, in your eyes. The damp locks, his bare chest covered with a layer of hair, and his Plaid hanging from his waist. The earthy, brown, and green tones shone nicely against his skin.

You couldn't help but let your gaze linger on the trail of dark hair that peaked from his waistband. Johnny could feel your eyes bore into him, a faint smirking tugging at the corner of his mouth when he noticed how you hurriedly looked away, a blush sitting on your cheeks so prettily.

You laid down on the soft furs, letting the heat of the fire seep into your bones. Johnny slotted himself behind you, his chest pressed to your back as his arms wound themselves tightly around you. He nuzzled his face into your neck, the cold tip of his nose making goosebumps rise on your skin.

"Are you sure you're not cold?" You asked softly, twisting to look at him.

"Never been cozier, my love." He hummed, pressing kisses to your jaw and cheek.

You giggled and sighed at the sensation. The exhaustion that sat deep in your flesh started to catch up with you, a yawn escaping your lips as you settled deeper into the warm sheep skins. Johnny continued his kisses, trailing them down your neck and then up to your jaw again.

"Johnny... what are you doing?" You sighed sleepily, the feeling of his lips on your skin making you all warm and fuzzy inside. His hand slipped upwards, kneading one of your soft breasts through the thick fabric of your dress.

"Warming you up, bonnie.." he mumbled against your throat, his stubble scraping against your delicate skin deliciously. A soft moan fell from your lips. It all felt so good. His lips, his hands, the outline of his hard cock pressing into your rear.

"Oh, Johnny...."

"Tha's right, mo leannan, say ma name.." he whispered softly, slipping his hand over your stomach, down your legs and underneath your skirt, bunching the wool around your hips.

His breath against your neck had your breathing pick up and your eyes flutter shut. He dragged his calloused fingertips up the inside of your thigh all while gently rocking his hips against you.

A breath got stuck in your throat when he stroked over your slit, your legs falling open just for him. You were lost in bliss, a heavy cloud of euphoria fogging up your mind as he continued to circle your clit and swipe his fingers through your folds, getting you nice and wet for him.

Your pert nipples poked through your dress, a sight Johnny couldn't resist. He snuck his second arm underneath you and pinched and tugged at your buds until you were coating his fingers in your slick.

"An absolute sight you are..." he spoke lowly, a breathless strain in his tone.

"Please, I need you, please.." you begged, mewling when he tugged his cock out from under his Plaid and rested it between your thighs, snuggly sat on your slick cunt.

"I'll give you whatever ya want, you know tha'." Johnny breathed, a groan ripping from his throat when he rocked his hips against you.

"Don't... do that.. I need.. I need.." you whined breathlessly, your words getting cut off by a moan as he pushed inside of you.

The ecstasy that flooded your veins was already making you melt into his arms, but when he reached between your legs to rub at your clit, you were putty in his hands. You were reduced to a mewling, moaning mess as he thrusted into your sweet cunt so deep yet softly, reaching parts of yourself you never knew existed.

"Ah know wha' you need.." he whispered against your temple, so sweetly, in fact, it made your head spin. You fit like puzzle pieces, made for each other. A choked moan escaped Johnny as he slid in to the hilt, pulling you impossibly closer. He pulled his hips back only to fit them snuggly against yours again in one smooth stroke.

Johnny quickly set a satisfying pace, fucking into you so nicely your eyes were rolling to the back of your head. The furs were soft against the exposed skin of your thigh and the popping fire started to fill the cabin with warmth.

The praises he cooed into your ear were a jumbled mess, not only from his pleasure but you were too far gone to think about what he was saying to you.

He held you close to his chest, grasping you so tightly as if you were to disappear the second he'd let go.

"Ah love you, my bonnie lass. Love you s'much." He muttered into your ear, the stutter in the movement of his hips indicating he was close.

But so were you, with him filing you so perfectly and his fingers rubbing over your clit.

"O-Oh, Gods... feels s'good.." you babbled mindlessly, sharp breaths and moans falling from your lips at the delicious drag of his cock against the warm walls of your cunt.

He was panting heavily into your ear, a few groans and moans making it into the mix, while he continued to snap his hips against your supple ass.

"Johnny, please..!" you cried out, every muscle in your body tensing up as that buzzing feeling of bliss gnawed at your bones, slowly working its way up to the crown of your head.

"C'mon, ma beauty, let go f'me.." he heaved, his lips attaching themselves to your neck once again.

A cry of pleasure ripped from your throat, his fingers swiping over your clit making you topple over the edge. You clenched down on him, going lax in his arms when he reached his end as well, a few more thrust making him spill inside of you with a groan.

A fuzzy feeling crawled up your spine, a dazed smile on your face as you pulled his arms around you even tighter. You laid in pleasant silence as your breath evened and the exhaustion of the say really started to set in. With a twist of your head you looked at Johnny with a soft smile.

"I love you too." You said quietly, watching how his eyes filled with warmth.

"Ah know, my love. Don't need tae say it. Ah can feel it." He mumbled until your skin, sighing as he finally settled in, ready to rest his body to prepare for the last part of the trek. Hopefully the rain would give the two of you a break, even just enough to get into town dry and warm.

The harsh fall of water softened during the night, leaving you with the sounds of Johnny's breathing, the crackling fire and the vast Highlands, stretching on for miles.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The next morning, you were up and about as soon as the sun peaked behind the horizon. The rain had subsided, and you'd use every opportunity to not get drenched again.

Everything was packed up quickly and the pack frame was hoisted onto Johnny's back once again as you left the little cabin just as neat as you'd found it.

Although the sun had decided to hide behind the clouds, there was no downpour. Only a gentle breeze that combed through the heather on the hills.

The green and purple swayed in the wind, painting a beautiful scene before you. Hand in hand, you made your through hill and glen, past trickling streams and past spots of trees huddled together.

While Johnny was busy keeping the both of you on track and occasionally admiring landscape, you were spending your time looking at him.

You wanted to etch his profile into every mountain face so the world may see what you fell in love with.

Those blue eyes that lit up whenever he smiled but had no problem becoming cold and piercing if the moment called for it.

Those lips of which you dreamed whenever you went to sleep, the feeling of them always lingering on your skin.

That voice that you could spend listening to until the world came to its end. Even if Johnny babbled and talked about things that made no sense to you, you'd always listen.

Those strong arms that could hold and protect you all at once. He'd carry you across the world if you'd ask.

You could list things about him until dusk. Until poets ran out of words. Until you'd both lay on your deathbed, ready to cross into the next realm together.

"You're starin', love." Johnny pointed out, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"I'd call it admiring, really." You quipped back, a smile on your face.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

"Oh, and what're you admirin', mo leannan?" He asked teasingly, taking his eyes off the path for the first time in hours. Johnny didn't want to admit it, but his heart leaped every time he saw you.

No matter how many times he'd seen you before, or how you'd never changed, your beauty would never fail to knock the wind out of his lungs.

"You." You hummed in response.

He nodded thoughtfully, trying to hide a bright smile.

"And why, might Ah ask?" He was teasing, a grin on his face.

He expected a compliment, how you liked his eyes, or the shape of his nose or his broad chest. And while all of that was true, the words that left you caught him off guard.

You gently stopped him, standing atop a hill, spotting the local tavern that was just out of town. Your hand went to cup his cheek, caressing his cheekbone.

"Because I'm utterly in love with you."

His jaw slacked. He knew that you loved him, of course he did, but this was the first time you'd said something like this. And what he wouldn't give to have you say it again and again. He'd never get sick of it.

Johnny cupped your hand, keeping it pressed against his cheek while his other pulled you in by your waist.

The baffled expression was quickly replaced with a soft smile and eyes that were looking at you with so much love and devotion even the sweetest honey would taste bitter in comparison.

"As am I." He spoke softly, connecting your lips in a kiss full of passion and adoration.

Caught up in your feelings, you'd failed to notice how thick clouds darkened the sky. In a change of fate, it started pouring once more, leaving you and Johnny without cover and in the middle of a kiss that could be written in a fairytale.

As the first drops fell down on you, your brows furrowed and you let out a sound of disapproval against his lips. Johnny chuckled, keeping you firmly in place when you tried to pull away.

"We need to get to that tavern-"

"Let's enjoy this, yeah?" He spoke softly, chasing your lips once again.

The rain was pounding down on you but how could you ever care about that when Johnny was kissing your breath away. You were held firmly in his embrace, melting into the kiss as water droplets were running down your face, the rain drenching you to the bone.

There was nowhere you'd rather be at this moment. The rain and wind were making you uncomfortable, shivers running through you, but the warmth Johnny ignited in your heart was enough to keep you warm for centuries. You pulled away, breathless, smiling at him.

"Come on!" You giggled, pulling him by the hands to follow you as you ran down the hill.

He had to hold onto his bonnet so it wouldn't go flying with the amount of force you'd tugged at him.

Between the heavy rain, only your pounding footsteps, along with giggled and laughter, was heard as you rushed down the slope, hand in hand.

"Slow down, will ya?" Johnny laughed, almost tripping and landing face first in the mud.

It was scene straight from a book. Two lovers running free, not even the worst storms being able to stop them.

The mud and wet grass made you stumble more than once, but the sheer happiness of such a special moment made the dirt caking your dress and the water running down the back of your neck a worthy sacrifice.

When you reached the bottom of the hill, Johnny slowed the both of you down and wrapped his arms around your middle. You were hoisted up, a noise of surprise falling from your lips, as he spun you around.

You pressed your lips to his in a giggly kiss while Johnny set you back down.

"Ah truly love you more than ya could ever know, my love." He said softly, rubbing his thumb over your wet cheek.

"I love you too. I know I've said it a million times, but I can't stop." You chuckled softly, earning yourself another soft kiss from Johnny before he finally pulled you into the tavern.

The evening was spent wrapped in blankets, an ale in hand while you sat in your favorite little corner. Music was playing and people were dancing, but you were content right here.

Next to Johnny, your head on his shoulder, gently nodding off so you could dream of him and wake up tomorrow, just to do it all over again.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

What do we think of Highlander!Johnny? 👀

More of my work -> 💫

We're gonna ignore the typos.... pls

[jesswriteswrongs]

After School Special

Fandom: Shameless USA

Characters: Lip Gallagher x Female Northside!Reader

Summary: Reader and Lip return to her house after school, but Reader’s mom comes home early and has a lot to say

Warnings: body shaming, discussion of food, discussion of exercise, discussion of weight

A/N: Readers mom reads like Emily Gilmore because I’ve been binge watching Gilmore Girls

It was mid-October and you had no idea how Lip survived without a coat, when you were dreading pulling your hand out of your pocket to unlock the door. Once you were both inside the warmth of your house you lead Lip upstairs to your room. “Wanna help me with my literature homework?” You asked him, putting your backpack on the floor and hanging up your coat.

“I do love you in that uniform…” he replied, sitting on your bed. You never thought that the kilt, sweater vest, blazer and saddle shoes were particularly attractive, but Lip always seemed to think so.

“Really?” You asked, straddling his lap.

“Mmm…” He replied, pushing your blazer off your shoulders “Southside bad boy corrupts private school girl? It’s like something from a romance novel.” You let your blazer fall to the floor. “Shall I compare thee to a summers day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do-“ You interrupted Lip’s recitation of Shakespeare by clapping your hand over his mouth, hearing the front door open and close.

“Shit! My mom’s home early.” You whispered.

“Y/N!” Your mom shouted. You put your finger to your lips to signal Lip to be quiet, and climbed off his lap. You headed downstairs to see what she wanted.

“Hi Mom.” You said nonchalantly.

“Y/N! How long have you been home?” She asked, looking you up and down. You squirmed under her gaze.

“Just a few minutes, I was just about to start my homework.” She frowned.

“Hm… well, remember your sister is coming home from Yale this weekend.”

“Yes, Mom.” You replied monotonously.

“How’s your application to Princeton going?”

“I don't need to apply until next year.”

“Yes, darling, but Princeton will look closely at your junior year. Extracurriculars are important.” She placed her handbag on the bureau, paying more attention to the wood grain than to you.

“Mom, I’m already president of the Model United Nations and VP of the astronomical society.”

“Yes, but you’ll need more. Your sister was captain of the swim team, president of the key club, class president and valedictorian.”

“Mom, I’m not Laura.” You sighed, playing with your sleeve cuffs

“Don’t I know it.” Your mother retorted. She looked you up and down once more. “You’re looking fat. I’ll tell Maria to skip the after school snack, you can wait until dinner, and you’ll be taking salad for lunch for the rest of the week. Your father and I pay for the gym, you should use it.”

“Yes, Mom.” You said once more. “Can I go back to my homework now?” Your mother literally looked down her nose at you before she spoke.

“Fine. But I expect you to be exercising after dinner.” You nodded, fisting your hands inside your sleeves and wiling the tears not to fall. You quickly turned and ran back up the stairs, shutting yourself in your bedroom, back against the door, before you let the tears fall. You had completely forgotten Lip was waiting for you in there.

“Y/N?” He asked quietly.

“How much of that did you hear?” Your voice was low and quiet, almost trembling.

“Enough.” Lip replied. He opened his arms. “Everything she said is total bullshit. You’re not anywhere near fat, and you’re going to get into Princeton.” You allowed yourself to be hugged and comforted by Lip, tears falling on to the blue shirt you loved on him. “And if your mom really wants you to get some exercise I can think of an exercise regiment that she’ll hate.” You laughed wetly, before wiping your eyes with your sleeve.

“This is why I prefer your house.” You said quietly.

“What, too loud to think with the police turning up anytime they want?” Lip chuckled. You rested your temple against his shoulder.

“Yeah but it’s family. You may not have much but you love each other, and most of the time you even like each other.” Lip laughed at that. “You’re not competing against each other or trying to outdo each other’s achievements. Everything Laura does I have to be the same or better, whether I want to or not.” Lip seemed to think about that for a moment.

“I guess you’re right.” He said after a moment of silence. “We’re dysfunctional, sure, but I’d do anything for my family. Our achievements are what they are. Shit, I’ll be the first Gallagher to finish high school. Plus, Fiona likes you a lot more than she’s liked my other girlfriends.” You ran your thumb over his shirt collar.

“It’s refreshing. Fiona thinks it’s great when I get a C, Debbie likes when I bring my art homework, it feels safe.” You said quietly.

“Even with Carl running around?” Lip asked

“Even with Carl running around.” You laughed, and kissed him. “I’m totally serious though, my literature homework is due tomorrow.”

“Hmmm, can I be your reward afterwards?” Lip asked.

“Can we go to your house tomorrow?” Lip smiled and nodded. You smiled back and climbed off his lap, grabbing your book and sitting back on his lap.

“What are you doing, Y/N? I thought you were doing homework?” You grinned wickedly at Lip.

“You really want to wait until after?”

[solar-powered-potato]

My gran just sent me photos of my grandad putting his feet up to try out the new kilt hose I made him as a gift, after a busy day celebrating his 80th.

He's a size 15 and hasn't had new hose made since around '96 he thinks. I didn't realise how bad his old ones were til gran asked me to darn them for her last year as her eyes are too bad now (she was never much of a knitter but did teach me the basics to get me started). I didn't realise he couldn't just...buy new ones. Even at 80, he's still 6'5" and a size 15 UK shoe. So when the lady from their village who knew how to make custom hose passed away he just, stopped getting new hose made.

I am so proud of these. I've never made hose before! I read books! I designed them myself! I bought FOUR (4) different yarns to try! I made more samples than I can remember! AND. THEY. FIT.

I love my grandad so much, I'm so happy he is going to wear these to their diamond anniversary party later in the month.

[ghostsslutss]

joost klein x vodka soda x rex club x chips and salsa

heres your order:

joost klien x f!reader

tags: cheating , degradation, praise, size kink

fuck why why did I do this. You thought. Your boyfriend went on a lad's trip with his friends, knowing him he was probably drunk clubbing in Ibiza. Joost Klein was your ex, that pesky ex that didn’t care if you had a boyfriend still. How his cock used to pound you endlessly again and again made you wet so bad. How his large hands managed to cover the whole of your throat while choking you. or how he used to pick you up so easily.

-

You were doing a DJ at the escape in Amsterdam, you dated Joost in private to avoid media and rumours. But it was one of the best times of your life. The love still burned within you for him, not for your boyfriend. For months you tried to avoid the pain of cheating on your boyfriend. But you wanted that fucking blonde so bad.

After your set, you left backstage. Hearing a swarm of fans, it probably was for you you opened the door to see him. that fucking idiot. Joost. There were people all around him asking for pictures one by one he signed them. Flirting and complimenting his fans, made you sick to your stomach. He should be praising you not them. as the crowd died down. Joost walked towards you, he was wearing one of his ridiculous outfit statements again. Kilt, tie and polo shirt with socks that go up way too high then some trainers. With his oversized glasses and messy mullet to finish the look.

“coming back to me again?”

Joost teased. You rolled your eyes crossing your arms and looking at him up and down. The fact he looked so hot made you clench your teeth. fuck. His blue eyes glared at you, wondering what was going on in your head. You finally snapped back into reality, covering your mouth and looking away.

“shut up joost.”

you mumbled, he grabbed you by the hips. Pulling you towards him. His tall frame towering over you. Feeling all of your curves, he inhaled deeply. Take in all of your alluring, strong perfume. You didn’t want to push him away. He felt and smelt too good. Forgive me father I have sinned.

“beautiful than ever.”

you tried to look away, his hand grabbing your chin. He bent down to adjust to your height and began kissing you deeply in the middle of the streets of Amsterdam. Tasting all of you, you softly moaned as he pulled away. A string of saliva left when he pulled away.

“lets go to yours it’s near isn’t it, little one.”

He grabbed your hand softly, watching you lead him the way. He was your protector, guard dog. That man would do anything to protect you. As you walked down the streets of Amsterdam people turned heads as Joost glared at people, watching people to not even look at you or touch you.

as you unlocked the door to your apartment, Joost quickly went in, throwing his shoes wherever they landed. of course he didn't give two fucks, he just wanted to fuck that sweet sweet pussy.

He went down to his knees, taking off your shoes and kissing your leg. As soon as he stood up, you slightly blushed struggling to keep eye contact as he towered over you again. Joost knew your weak points unlike your boyfriend did. He picked you up, you gasping as soon as he did.

“little one don’t worry.”

he smiled as he hummed one of his songs as he walked into your bedroom. Same room with the same Ikea furniture before he left. What a cheap useless boyfriend he thought. He gently placed you on the bed, taking your clothes off until your fully naked body was on full show to him. he licked his lips, already feeling his cock straining through his boxers. Joost started from your neck, kissing you softly. He moved to your tits, putting one in his mouth and sucking it softly.

“my favourite body part.”

you nodded as you moaned softly. Your breathing going more rapid and he moved down. He took his face away from your thighs. he pulled his kilt down and then his boxers. Revealing his lengthy and straining cock, you drooled at the sight of it. How you missed it railing you all night.

“on all fours.”

You obeyed like a dog. Arching your back for him, as he thrusted into you. You gasped. Your walls squeezing against his cock. he rolled his head back, groaning loudly. He delved deeper into you, penetrating you slowly but deeply. His nails dug on to your waist and he thrusted in to you.

“your boyfriend wont fuck you like this. hm?”

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

the bafta livestream out of context: top 60 cursed quotes.

There is nothing more cursed than the livestream I just witnessed, and I made a summary post but now I'm just going to put in quotes by the worthy maggots in the stream with no context, because BELIEVE ME THE CONTEXT DIDN'T MAKE ANYTHING BETTER. The livestream chat was NOT A PLACE OF THE LORD.

I'm going to make the quotes that were by me a different colour. Please know that I am NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR A SINGLE QUOTE OTHER THAN THOSE. SO HERE'S THE TOP 60 IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

Barbenhimer awakened things in me ok

aroace people the most disturbingly sexual talkers on the planet fight me on this

WHO JUST GASPED

MICHAEL SHEENS BABY TALKING BARK BADK IM A DOG BARK WOOF

I feel so sorry for this woman. She's being so heartfelt and we're here thristing over a slinky that possessed a man

IRELAAAND PLEASE ADOPT ME AS YOUR OWN PLEASE TAKE ME TO THE LAND OF UNPRONOUNCABLE WORDS, GREEN FEILD, CATHOLISISM AND HOZIER PLEASE

the urge to go to france and misgender a croissant is real

Devastated the slutty knees have gone away

So many men nowadays are so submissive and breedable like thank you lord for these men thank you

witches and murder slime tutorial

speaking of royals did the bloke who ISN'T lizzy's husband but her son apparently die yet

Turtleneck Crowley is my gender.

WE COULD HAVE LEFT IT AS NOT SAFE FOR WORK WHY THE DRTAOLS ASMI

SAY AN BFUIL CEAD AGAM DUL GO DTÍ AN LEITHREAS AN WE'LL LET YOU THROUGJ

"Oompa loompa doopety dee, I really hated being in this movie" -Hugh grant probably

IF YOU'RE A CHILD AVERT YOUR EYES FROM THAT MESSAGE IM SORRY

i want the kilt back this a betrayal

if someone put me in a room with kilt!david tennant one of us is walking out of that room pregnant and its not gonna be me

a lot of these words are in the bible and none of them should be in that order you need jesus

Can we vote to make david wear that kilt back? Maybe make him do a twirl this time

You mean Bildaddy? 😏

Honey what make you think a dude who roamed around with prostitutes and got himself more holes for mankind won't be calling bildad bildaddy? [this was about jesus btw.]

FREE THE KNEE

Show us the knees!

AND YOU'RE COMING AFTER ME FOR MY BLOWJOB BANANA

He looks like those fancy chocolates. Imma take a bite outta him. Think you'll leak molten goo like them?

My brain isn't working, I read "bratty couch jr"

i'm sorry the what holes

FIND ME ON GOAD AND I WILL MAKE YOU PAY APPROPRIATELY

I genuinely thought it was a road typo and I thought you were threatening asmi with physical violence on the road

OHH FLOWER OF SCOTLAAAAAAND

Combine that with the unfortunate oranges and see what happens.

DEVASTATING NEWS I ATE UP ALL OF THEM SO I'VE BROUGHT A BLOWJOB BANANA INSTEAD

That reminded me of the army video where the guy was deepthroating a 7 inch banana without a hitch.

OMG THEY JUST FLASHED BACK & I GOT A GLIMPSE OF THAT KILT 🥵🥵🥵

thats why apollo had to deliver you at an illegal sushi restaurant

How long do you think it would take to get david naked from his chocolate man suit? Can we set a new speedrun category?

SUPERBOWL FOR TENNANTISTS

Big feelings about pants straps in the chat tonight

Last time i check yoire supposed to thank the lord gor his gifts

HEY GUYS ASMI'S FROM A PARALLEL UNIVERSE CONFIRMED

I just have a deep appreciation for ireland

Can you use suspenders as bondage gear? I mean it looks like it would be fine? I mean if you make the length a bit more they might be more comfortable than ropes. Just sayin

All i can think when i see him in the costume is the one specific ken and oppenhimer slash fic. Lord help me i can't be saved

GIVE MY LOVE TO THE LEPRECHAAAAAAAAAAAUNSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Like a giant orange slice on her one arm.

Stop hitting the lectern geez / what if its into that?

Men who wear suspenders are such losers like why do you need so much cloth to keep your pants up. Why dont you just wear a belt. Where do you live. What is your timezone. What are you office hours

what is this suspender shaming ari chappal for you

Aziraphales office hours are: fuck off

Put me ina room with a suspender wearing man and he shall have the same fate as kilttennant

MARIYADAM E ILLAI

It was titled "snake in my b***" It meant butt lmfao

CROWLEY AND LOKI MY GENDERFLUID ICONS

THE KNEES ARE BACK

THEKNEES GOD SAVE ME FROM THESE SINFUL THOUGHTS

What if slutshaming is my kink?

NOT THE BLOWJOB FACE NO

AT THIS POINT IF NEIL HASN'T UNFOLLOWED ME YET HE'S ASKING TO BE MENTALLY SCARRED IM SORRY

I am failing

Tagging the main culprits whose tumblr handles I know:

@thearoacemess @vitrilol @queermarzipan @good-usernames-were-taken

Cheers, maggots.