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hier--soir · 11 months ago

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heart to heart

john price x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: john takes you away for the weekend, and nestled in a cottage on the countryside, you show him just how much you've been missing him. warnings/tags: long term boyfriend!john, john price never finishes his cigars, explicit smut, a little body worship, oral [m receiving], fingering [f], unprotected piv sex, multiple orgasms [m], some overstim [m], come eating x2, brief cock warming, idiots in love, porn with minimal plot. word count: 4.4k masterlist a/n: this was born out of me being physically unable to stop thinking about that middle picture being john price, so here we go follow @hier--soirupdates if you’d like to be notified when i share my writing

It hasn’t rained in six days.

Late autumn spins the countryside in its grasp; a warm cloak that sends the leaves golden and the grass dewy. In a small, unfamiliar kitchen you drop teabags into mugs and gaze out the window. Admire the vast acreage that surrounds the cottage, and the marshland beyond that.

The early morning rays are bright and cool, turning the cabinets a washy yellow colour around you as you wait for the kettle to boil.

Everything is quiet, calm. If you listen closely, past the sound of birds chirping and water bubbling, you can hear John’s heavy snores down the hall; still catching up on sleep after a long few weeks away.

When he came through the front door two nights ago, you’d been quietly surprised to see him home so soon. After not hearing much for almost a month, you’d resigned yourself to getting on with things in his absence. A fairly covert operation, you knew, so you’d spent your days waking to an empty house. Working and eating and showering alone and never exceeding the appropriate number of messages you could send him in one day without stirring worry. Little Angus with his long orange tail and his soft whiskers your only company in John’s stead.

Home at last, he’d wrestled out of his heavy boots and draped himself over where you lay on the couch. Soap opera long forgotten on the tele, he’d slipped an arm around the back of your head, held you to his chest and said, Let me take you somewhere.

The kettle whistles and you pluck it from the stove, still smiling at the memory. Douse the teabags in boiled water and watch as the windows cloud with steam. You leave his black, just the way he likes it, but soften your own with sugar and milk. Your toes are numb against the cool tile, and you rub them against your calf in search of warmth. Inside, your body is at sleepy old war with itself. One half longing to be back in bed, or perhaps to have not gotten up at all yet; the other half taking great pleasure in the mundanity of doing things like this for him again, after so long of not. Tap tap tap of an impatient finger against the counter until his tea turns the perfect colour, and then you’re on your way back to the room.

Leant amongst paisley patterned pillows and white linens, John looks a little out of place knuckling sleep from the corner of his eyes. A little too rough around the edges, too big, too hardened for such soft surroundings. In your brief absence, he’s drawn the curtains and nudged the window beside the bed open a crack. A long arm stretches out toward the sill, ashing a cigar onto the small dish he’s balanced there.

Naked as the day he was born, he lifts the cigar to his lips and blinks drowsily at you. Stretches his legs out, the muscles in his thighs straining, curled toes skimming the end of the bed. Eyes wandering, you kick the door shut with your foot and slink to the end of the bed, holding out his mug.

“’Morning,” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. Accepts the tea with a soft smile, the skin beside his eyes crinkling as he watches you crawl in beside him. Hands full, he twists an ankle around yours, face pulling up at the feel of your cold skin against his. “Jesus, you’re like ice. I’ll shut the window.”

“Don’t move,” you hush, nestling your head against his shoulder. “You’re right where I want you.”

John laughs softly, warm body vibrating against yours. “Is that right, sweetheart?”

“Mhm.” You watch him tap his cigar against the dish, sipping your tea and trailing fingers through the dark hairs on his stomach. Enjoy the way his body draws tense beneath your cool touch, goose flesh sprouting across his skin. “Middle of nowhere… unfamiliar town… no one will ever find you. You’re all mine out here, Price.”

“M’all yours everywhere,” he says, abandoning his cigar in the dish so he can tug on the neckline of your—his—t-shirt. “This proves it, yeah?”

“I suppose,” you smile, lifting your mug to hide behind a sip. He watches you move, calculating and quiet as he sips his own tea. You fidget beneath the intensity of his stare, painfully aware of how well he knows you. That your want, your need, must be painted across every inch of your face.

“Love you in my clothes, sweetheart, I do.” John’s fingers curl beneath the hem of the shirt then, rough callouses tickling over your collarbones. “But you’re makin’ me feel awful naked.”

Heat flares in the base of your stomach and you chuckle, matching smirks splashed across your faces as you sit up and drag the shirt over your head. He watches as you flick it to the floor, gaze darkening as he looks over your body, focusing on the thin grey panties that cover the skin between your thighs. A thick arm curls around your waist, tugging you back onto him, and as you settle there his fingers slip down to fiddle with the band of your underwear.

“Cute,” he comments airily, middle finger dropping under the band to caress the skin beneath it.

Mug discarded off the side of the bed, you put both hands to his stomach now. Tickling his soft skin, playing with the hair there as you lean in and press a kiss to the centre of his chest. And then another, and another, with John simply humming, palm flattening against the small of your back to hold you against his side.

Your lips part, tongue dancing lazily against his nipple. Soft strokes until the flesh is stiffening and you’re practically purring against his skin, drifting across to the other one. You hear the soft clink of his mug hitting the side table, and then John’s hand falls against the back of your head. Thick fingers twist through your hair, playing as you kiss and lick over his collarbones, and the little tugs he gives have a low throb starting up between your legs.

“Feelin’ needy this mornin’, hey lovey?” John asks. His fingers come to the front of your face, cupping your jaw and forcing you to look up at him. Big blue eyes watch you pout, cheeks squished between his fingers as you nod.

“I missed you,” you say, turning to press your nose into his palm and inhale the smell of him.

His eyes soften, and all sense of teasing seems to slip out the window. “I know, sweetheart, m’sorry. Come here’n give us a kiss.”

His lips are soft against yours. Warm, and familiar, with a hint of Darjeeling. Pulling you up to straddle his waist, he coaxes your chest down against his and huffs into your mouth at the feel of your nipples against his skin, teeth sneaking out to smart at your bottom lip.

“Thought about you every day,” he mumbles against your lips. “Missed you every second, love, always do.”

You feel something hot and sharp spark behind your eyelids at those words, and flick your tongue against the seam of his lips, pushing it away, not now not now. You go soft and pliant against him; let him guide you through the kiss, coaxing your mouth open with his long tongue as his fingers dance down your spine. When his hand reaches the round of your ass he grips your flesh there, kneading it between his fingers and pushing down so your clothed cunt comes flush with his cock.

“Feel that?” John says, pulling away an inch to nose at your cheek. His cock is heavy between your legs, thick and stiff where it presses against the gusset of your panties. You gasp as he rocks his hips up, grinding against you until the damp fabric slips between your slick folds and rubs over your clit. “That’s how much I missed you, sweetheart.”

As he talks, the hairs on his moustache prickle against your lips, and you find yourself opening your mouth. Breathy moans spill as you roll your hips against his, lathing hot opened mouthed kisses over his jaw.

“Looked at your picture every night,” he continues raggedly, breath hitching as you suck at the hollow of his throat. His cock twitches against you, the slide only getting smoother as more slick spills into your panties. “Thought about comin’ home ‘n’ never leavin’ again, just so I could play with this pretty little cunt whenever I like.”

Your hips stutter into his and you whine, a tiny glimpse of an orgasm fluttering through you just from those words.

“S’yours,” you whisper against his skin, the words he spoke moments before dancing through your mind. “All yours everywhere.”

Faster than he can stop you, you’re slipping off his lap and settling beside him on the bed. Continuing the onslaught, you lick hot, messy kisses over the skin of his neck, across the broad span of his shoulders.

“My big man,” you say tenderly, fingers itching their way across his chest. You skirt your teeth down the middle of his sternum, squeaking a little when he murmurs in enjoyment and presses a hand to your ass again. “I missed your body so much.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.”

“Show me then,” he goads lightly, grunting around a smirk when you sink your teeth into the soft flesh over his ribs in response.

His fingers toy with the material of your panties as you drag your tongue over the dip of his belly button, and when you kiss the soft curve of his lower stomach, nose buried in the dark hairs above it, you feel him grip the fabric tight. You can see his cock in your peripheral vision. Swollen and heavy against his hip now. The tip has turned a pretty shade of dark pink, accented by little streaks of white where pre-come oozes from his slit and glides down his throbbing shaft. With your mouth on his belly, you reach out and wrap your fingers around him.

“Fuck,” John grunts, head lolling back against the pillows.

You smile, stroking him slowly as you drag your nose through his thick happy trail, all the way down to nuzzle against the dark thatch of curls above his base. Insistent now, his fingers push beneath the edge of your panties and drag through your slick seam.

You whimper, forehead resting heavily against his skin as he slides two fingers through the wet mess of you. Lewd sounds of your arousal fill the room as John traces featherlight circles around your clit, and your face heats against his stomach, fingers returning to their lazy pace around his length.

The throb between your legs has become a second heartbeat now, so strong that you’re sure he must feel it beneath his fingertips. If he does, he just sighs softly. Lets the thrumming of your cunt sync with the pulse in his fingertips, heart to heart, and murmurs low encouragements as you tilt your head to the side and begin mouthing at his cock.

“Missed my cock.” Your voice is low and unfamiliar in your ears, mouth overrun with desire and spilling your guts before you can stop it. “So pretty, John…”

Circling your entrance with a thick finger, he just says, “I know, love, s’yours. Go on.”

As slow as you can bring yourself to be, you lay gentle kisses down the entire length of him. Wetting your lips and gliding them over his warm, silken skin, before dipping lower and sucking his balls between your lips. A harsh grunt sounds behind you, and, as if in retaliation, he sinks two thick fingers inside you. You moan around his sensitive skin, holding his balls in your mouth and jerking him off until he’s trembling beneath you, broad thighs straining as he tries to hold himself together.

“That’s good, love,” he murmurs softly, almost speaking to himself as he curls his fingers inside you, humming when you grind into his hand. “Need ta get my fuckin’ mouth on you.”

But you just shake your head. Let his balls slip from your mouth with a soft pop before sticking out your tongue and guiding the weeping tip of his cock towards your mouth. Hasty, too needy for your own good, you slip your lips around him and try to take him deep on the first pass. Out of practice after weeks away, your throat constricts and you choke a little around him. So big, so overbearing, you’re too eager to be filled by him that you push and push until you’re gagging and sputtering. Cheeks hot and eyes downturned, you draw back, skin prickling as you hear him say something past the rushing in your ears. Take a moment to catch your breath and ground yourself, fingers tight on his thigh as your tongue swirls around his tip.

“This what you missed then?” he’s saying, collecting your hair in his fist to keep it off your face. “Hm, missed bein’ all full of me?”

“Mhm,” you hum around him, pulling back with a gasp only to press his head against your cheek. Eyes closed, you rub his ruddy tip against your chin, your lips, painting your skin with his precome. Feel the weight of him warm your skin and sigh in quiet delight. And when he groans, exhaling a heavy, ragged breath, you press your mouth around him again, desperate to hear him make that sound over and over again.

“Easy, darlin’, lemme see you,” John chokes out, thumbing sliding over the apple of your cheek. “So pretty with your lips around my cock.”

Heat floods your chest, and you drool around him. The words seem to trigger something in your mind, some insatiable desire to please, to make him feel good, because you’re relaxing, sinking your mouth down further on him. A low, drawn-out curse falls from his lips, fingers curling in the hair behind your ear.

Gaudy sounds of sucking and slurping fill your ears, and you would be self-conscious if it weren’t for the way John’s growls met them in the air. Wordlessly, he slips a third digit inside and the stretch brings a dull burn that has your mouth slowing against him.

Your eyelids flutter as his thick fingers stroke at your walls, searching for the spot that makes you spill every time, but your wanton cries of desperation are muffled by the heavy weight of him on your tongue. In slow, measured movements, he begins to shift his hips in time with your head. Feeding his cock to you and grunting when he feels your throat go soft and easy around him, letting him slip further in until your nose buries in the hair at his base.

John watches you, the blue in his eyes almost entirely swallowed by desire fattened pupils. Rakes his gaze over the way your lips stretch around his thick cock, tears dancing on your lashes as you take him in your throat. The heady taste of him is intoxicating, and you can only hold his gaze for so long before your eyes are rolling back, stomach pulling tight as you swallow around him.

Stuffed to the brim with John, John, John. He’s everywhere, filling your mouth, your aching cunt; it sends your heart racing, thighs trembling as your orgasm begins to crest.

Molten heats swims in the base of your stomach, curling and bubbling there as he you ride his long fingers, moaning his name around his cock. But just as you feel everything begin to go tight and tingly, John’s pulling on your hair and dragging you off him.

A thin strand of spit dangles between his tip and your mouth and he snarls at the sight, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Fuck, c’mere,” he huffs, squeezing insistently at your shoulders. “Wanna feel you on my cock when you come for me, yeah?”

Mind a hazy blur, you let the weight of him fall from your mouth, the hinge of your jaw still burning as you peel your underwear down your legs and spread yourself over his lap. John doesn’t pull his hand away though. No, he keeps his fingers between your legs, pumping them in and out, slowly, as you hover over his cock.

“My girl,” he says, eyes focusing on where the puffy lips of your cunt almost touch his cock. “My filthy, sweet girl.”

“John,” you puff his name, abdomen tensing when he rubs his thumb against your clit. Balanced on your knees and the tips of your toes, your legs shake a bit. Fingers dance forward to touch his shoulder, desperate for an anchor.

You frown a little, swollen lips parted in a torturous mix of desire and confusion, but he just offers a filthy grin and says, “Tell me you missed me again.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you smart instinctually, lips twitching when he barks a laugh and slips his fingers from your wet clutch, grasp drifting to your waist. “Please.”

“There she is,” he rumbles, jaw tensing as you glide his tip through your folds, coating him in your slick. A heavy rush of air spills from his nose. “My impatient girl.”

Once he’s got you on his cock, it doesn’t take long for you to fall apart.

He lets you keep having it your way for a bit. Watches, gaze heavy, as you bounce on his cock, hands gripping his shoulders for leverage. You squirm on him, face twisted up as you adjust to the thick stretch of him after so long. It burns and aches between your thighs, but you can’t help but keep coming back for more, sinking down on his length faster each time. He tilts his head forward to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning against the plush of your breast when you arch your back, crying out at the feeling of his teeth on the sensitive bud.

After a while he slots his greedy lips against yours. Presses hot, sucking kisses to your mouth, swallowing down every gasp and moan that crawls its way up your chest. The bristles of his facial hair scratch at your cheeks, your nose, and you love it. Have desperately missed the way it warms your skin as he presses his tongue inside your mouth and tastes behind your teeth.

Using his hold on your hips, he rolls you against his lap. Meets you thrust for thrust until you start to soak his length, jaw going slack as he growls into your open mouth.

“Fuckin’ hell, love, that’s it,” John groans, fingers tightening on your waist as your cunt pulls tight and hot around him. Thighs shaking, you let your forehead fall against his chest and ride out the flood of your orgasm. “I know, darlin’, I know, I’ve got you.”

Fingers fly up to grip the back of your neck, his other arm snaking around your waist as he continues fucking up into you. His cock presses hot and heavy into that soft, gushy spot deep inside you and you shudder against him, helpless little moans slipping from your parted lips. Face smushed against his hairy chest, you drool a little. Feel it pool between his pecs and smear across your cheek as your eyes roll back, dopamine pounding in your veins as he pushes you relentlessly through the high.

“Gonna let me fill you up?” he’s panting, feet planted on the bed now as he bucks into you, hips stuttering as he sinks closer and closer to his end. “Fuck, I’m gonna make a right mess of you, darlin’. That’s it, lovey, show me that pretty face.”

“John,” you mewl, toes curling against the sheets. “Shit, oh shit.”

“Christ,” he grunts when you meet his eyes, jaw pulled tight. “So tight, m’ gonna come—”

“Wait,” you mumble suddenly, senses sharpening despite the way your thighs still shake against his hips. John stills immediately, grip tightening on your waist. “In my mouth, I want you in my mouth.”

His face crumples at that, a guttural noise sputtering from his lips as you lift off him and slip down to rest between his legs. He nods, brushing hair back off your face as you sink your mouth down on him, slick tongue hungry on the underside of his pulsing cock. He mutters your name, tells you how perfect you feel as he rocks his hips forward, tip nudging the back of your throat with every careful thrust.

“My sweet girl, doing so good for me,” he breathes, a coy grin on his face and a firm hand at the base of your skull. He holds your head in place as he fucks your mouth with slow, steady strokes. Groans every time you swallow, warm wet throat drawing tight around his swollen head.

“Look at me, let me see those eyes,” he mutters urgently, tugging on your hair until you’re blinking, focusing blurry eyes on his face. He thumbs at the teary streaks on your cheeks and gives a rough, prolonged groan as he begins to spill down your throat. “Fuck, fuck.”

You bob your head as his cock twitches and jerks against your tongue, sucking until he’s filled your mouth with warm come and it starts seeping from the corner of your mouth, dribbling down his shaft. You catch the spill with your fingers, swallowing his thick spend down and then licking what’s left from your trembling hands.

John watches on, chest heaving, and tuts fondly when you whimper, head spinning with the salty taste of him on your tongue.

“Bloody hell,” he exhales after a moment, dragging his knuckles over his face. “We’re never goin’ home.”

You laugh, drowsily nuzzling your cheek against the inside of his thigh as his cock softens against his stomach. John cards his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, legs still twitching and eyes drifting closed as he tries to catch his breath. Lips slick with spit and come, you lay soft pecks along his sweaty skin. Smile when he shudders, fingers tightening against your scalp, but doesn’t pull you off.

There’s a hot flush of red splashed across the skin of his neck, his cheekbones, and his stomach is still warm to the touch when you reach out to graze his soft flesh. Sated and sleepy, he wets his lips and continues to play with your hair. Lovingly curls strands of it around his fingers and tugs gently before letting go, only to pick a new strand and do it again.

Overcome with emotion, and unable to stop yourself, you lean forward and take his soft cock back into your mouth.

John hisses through his teeth in surprise, eyes flashing open.

You don’t do anything crazy yet. Just let him feel the warmth of your mouth around him, the soft glide of your tongue against the ridge around his head. When he doesn’t pull you off after a second, you give him a little suck. Not hard—just enough to make his hips flinch down into the mattress and his legs pull tight at your sides.

“Fuck,” he exhales, face pinched. His hand trembles against your head. “Fu—hang on, fuckin’ hell, love.”

You peer up past his stomach to where his mouth hangs open and his eyes are shiny and wide. His nails scratch against your scalp. Needy little nudges that blur the line between too much and not enough. You hum in pleasure around him when a choked sound falls from his mouth. Feeling a little mean, though, you pull back, licking your lips and smiling apologetically.

“Sorry,” you murmur, face hot as you squeeze his thigh. “Just want to love on you a little longer, that’s all.”

He hums deep in his chest, brow creasing a little as he brings his big hands to cup your face. His thumb swipes at your chin, smearing the saliva there, and you part your lips for him. He makes a sort of pained sound as he slots the digit into your mouth and watches you hollow out your cheeks out around it, swirling your tongue and sucking like you’d done to his cock just moments ago.

“Christ,” John breathes. Something needy and desperate glints in his eye, and he slips his finger from your mouth. Grips the back of your neck and gives a short nod. “Gonna be the death of me, ain’tcha?”

Guided by his hand, you take him back in your mouth and sigh in relief. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you rest your face against his hip, taking deep breaths through your nose and just holding him like that for a while. You can hear the way his breathing goes haggard above your head; short sharp bursts of air huffing from his nostrils. Sensitive as he must be, John lets you have your fun, shivering and spiting low curses as your touches get increasingly needier. And when you begin to suck softly at his length again, he seems unable to help the way his strong legs writhe against the mattress.

He says your name, rough and urgent, when you pull back only to snake your tongue out against his slit. Eyes fluttering open, you look up at him as you lathe your tongue down his length, smiling at how red his face has gotten, at how he seems to be holding his breath. John’s cock starts to swell and stiffen beneath your touch.

“D’you want me to stop?” you whisper, tracing the blue vein that pulses down the side of his length with your tongue.

“No,” he pants, head lolling from side to side. “Fuck no, gorgeous. Just go easy on me, yeah? It’s ohh—” he winces “—s’a lot.”

You nod understandingly and press a kiss to his tip, smearing the fresh pearl of precome there against your lips. He’s fully hard now, throbbing when you wrap your fingers around his thick base and wrap your lips around his head. A guttural sound rips from his chest and he’s tugging at your hair. For a moment you pause, unsure, but then he’s pushing a little on you. Nudging you closer, further, so you take him deeper and deeper until his tip is nudging against your throat.

“Fuck,” John gasps, hips stuttering against your palms, sensitive cock twitching against your tongue. “S’too much, love, it’s—oh fuck.”

With a ragged grunt his cock pulses in your mouth, and a little spurt of come dribbles from his head. You moan, eyes closed, and swallow tight around him, milking every last drop of spend from his cock until he’s winded and clumsily pushing you off of him.

Breathless, you fall flat on the mattress beside him, feet dangling off the end of the bed. John’s broad palm cradles the back of your head still, a comforting weight as you wipe your face against the sheets.

Ears pricking, you realise it’s begun to rain outside. Soft patters of liquid that knock against the window, thin rivulets that drip down to splash and splutter against the sill. Long forgotten, his cigar sizzles and dies beneath the spray.

“Another tea?” you murmur finally, pushing up onto your elbows.

But with a soft, startled laugh, you find that John’s eyes are closed, chest rising with steady breaths; already back to sleep. Shaking your head a little, you smile fondly at his lax form, and consider closing the window. You settle instead for pulling the duvet from the corner of the bed. Curled against his thick side, you settle the blanket over the two of you and lay an arm over his stomach, content to have a proper lie in after such a busy morning.

thanks for reading, i'd love to hear what you thought x

#my writing #fic: heart to heart #john price x reader #john price smut #john price fanfiction #john price x you #john price cod #captain john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price smut

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scotianostra · 6 months ago

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youtube

On June 23rd 1927 the singer Kenneth McKellar was born.

One of the most accomplished classical tenors of his generation, Kenneth McKellar was born in Paisley, the son of a grocer his earliest musical experiences came from the family gramophone, but he was also taken toconcerts at St Andrew’s Halls, Glasgow.

Kenneth was soon entertaining family friends by impersonating his favourite singers. But his greatest pleasure in his early years was exploring the Scottish Highlands. The depletion of Scotland’s forest reserves during the World War II left him with a burning desire to help restore them, and after leaving the John Neilson school, Paisley,

Despite a keen interest in music, McKellar initially studied forestry at Aberdeen University. He also joined the university choir, where his vocal talent was apparent, and he received individual coaching from the university’s director of music. While still a student, McKellar made his first broadcast, from the BBC studios in Glasgow, after gaining his degree he joined the Scottish Forestry Commission. Over the next two years he took part in a research and survey programme on the woodlands travelling by horseback up and down the Scottish countryside.

After two years as a forester, McKellar decided to switch careers and take up a scholarship at the Royal College of Music in London. While still a student, he made a private recording in a booth at the HMV record shop in Oxford Street singing Roger Quilter’s O Mistress Mine and a few Scottish ballads. HMV sent the recording to Parlophone, which immediately gave him a recording contract. He recorded eight sides of songs and ballads on 78 rpm’s.

These records helped him to get a job in the chorus of the Carl Rosa opera company after graduation. There, he was given an opportunity to sing the opening aria from Rossini’s Barber of Seville so well that he was promoted to principal tenor.

After two years of touring, McKellar decided that a career in opera was “like living in a goldfish bowl, and I thought, I don’t need this. All I want to do is sing.” A few months after leaving, he signed a new recording contract with Decca, for whom he went on to make more than 30 LPs between the mid-1950s and the early 80s. These encompassed a huge range, from mainstream classical and religious songs through excerpts from Broadway musicals to the Scottish popular tradition of Robert Burns, Harry Lauder and well-known folk pieces.

With his 1960 album, Songs of Robert Burns, McKellar was among the first contemporary singers to revisit the poet’s whole body of work. He also recorded and performed more recent songs by Scottish composers, notably The Song of the Clyde by RY Bell and Ian Gourlay. If you have watched the 60’s film Billy Liar you will have heard Kenneth belting out Song of the Clyde at the start of the film! Another fact on this song is it was the very first record played on Scotland’s first commercial radio station on 31st December 1973.

McKellar occasionally wrote songs too, including the comic piece The Midges and the patriotic The Tartan, he was not averse to participating in the “tartanry” side of Scottish culture, which emphasised the more kitsch elements of national song, dance, dress and cuisine. With Jimmy Shand and his band plus the hosts Andy Stewart and Moira Anderson, he is indelibly associated with the White Heather Club, the BBC TV show that saw in the New Year in the late 1950s and 60s.

McKellar supported a number of charities, was an honorary president of Burns societies around the world and was a trustee of the Scottish International Education Trust.

As we await the crucial game tonight against Hungary it is only fitting I post this song......

#scotland #scottish #history #singer #Youtube

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concook20 · 2 months ago

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Wild Kratts New Backstory And Headcanons! (Villains)

Same thing as the Crew, only, it's not only for the villains, but also with two people, Paisley and Rex, and I decided to add them after I did some research and I actually enjoy the dynamic!

Now I've added the assistants with their bosses, but I'll do their background separately to cause any issues.

Zach's Bio:

Full Name: Zach Alexander Lee Varmitech

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay (VERY! Closeted)

Birthday: August 26th

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Job Application: Inventor/Business Owner

Relationship:

Martin: Moral Enemy

Chris: Secret Friend/Crush

Aviva: Moral Enemy

Koki: Enemy

JZ: Enemy

Khris: Best Friend Ever!

Donita: Best Friend

Dabio: Neutral

Gourmand: Friend

Paisley: Don't Mind

Rex: Neutral

Vert: Introvert

Phobia: Entomophobia (Fear Of Insects)

Favoritism:

Color: Black, red, and green

Singers: Classical musicians, opera, and musicals/plays

YouTube: None

Animal: None

Hobbies: Playing piano and violin, organizing stuff (books, albums, etc.), reading books, and playing board games (chess, checkers, etc.)

Past Relationships

None! Zach is single and a virgin! However! Once he got back from his vacation, he took a liking towards Chris, to the point he began to design pretty rocks and left it on his window on his birthday, it's the only way he knows how to show love. He wants to tell Chris how he feels, but he's EXTREMELY nervous on how to.

Headcanons

Zach owns many tech companies, but he never goes to do them cause... He doesn't know how to!

Zach is DEFINITELY Megamind if he was a goth, and even Paisley makes fun of him with it, which makes Zach very annoyed by it.

Zach has OCD and bad anxiety.

Zach couldn't handle criticism, good or bad, cause he'll cry like a baby.

Zach uses anonymous accounts to leave bad reviews for the worst movies, and hasn't attended to stop.

Zach is a HORRIBLE singer, but he doesn't care as he enjoys singing musicals and opera songs out loud.

Zach is a insomniac.

Zach is bad at tongue twisters.

Zach doesn't own any one pair of matching socks.

Zach wants a hug, but he doesn't know how to show it, so he leans on people for a hug.

Zach has a fear of bugs, because he doesn't like how they look when they move around and after learning some bugs and what they do, he immediately hates them.

Backstory

This Zach...is a clone- HEAR ME OUT!!! Let me explain!!! I have a personal idea that Pilot Zach is the REAL Zach, meanwhile the Series Zach is actually a clone that's covering for him as he takes a long and relaxing vacation. He needs a break from 'dumbass villains' (his words), the Wild Rats, dumb animals, and his stupid robots, but he can't just up and disappear without a reason, so he created Series Zach in order to cover for him. No one, not even Zach or Khris, knows about the fact he's a clone.

Zach may not remember his family, but he does treat his Zach Bots like his own personal family, celebrate holidays and birthdays with them, naming them, even treat them like his own kids. He did create two Zach Bots of the brothers, but the "only successful one" was Khris, as he adores and cares for him like they're best friends.

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Khris's Bio:

Full Name: Khris Varmitech Cratt

Age: 22 (as programmed)

Gender: Male (as programmed)

Sexuality: Demisexual

Birthday: July 19th (as programmed)

Zodiac Sign: Cancer (as programmed)

Job Application: Assistant/Combat Trainer

Relationship:

Martin: Moral Enemy

Chris: Neutral

Aviva: Moral Enemy

Koki: Enemy

JZ: Enemy

Zach: Best Friend Ever!

Donita: Friend

Dabio: Friend

Gourmand: Neutral

Paisley: Neutral

Rex: Neutral

Vert: Ambivert

Phobia: None

Favoritism

Colors: Red and black

Singers: Classic Musicians

YouTube: None

Animal: Siberian Tiger

Hobbies: Playing board games (chess, checkers, etc.), combat fighting and training, gymnastics, and yoga and meditation.

Past Relationships

Khris has never been in a relationship, ever! Though, he does want to have a feeling of finding love, making him sad inside as Zach vents to him about his love issues with Chris, but he hides for his friend's sake, though, human or robot, he wants to find the one.

Headcanons

Khris's abilities:

Cloaking (Invisibility or camouflaging).

Shapeshift (Change into anyone he wants).

Strength (Obviously, since he's a robot).

Charging or Reducing (Taking or filling up electricity).

Voice Change (Can change voice whoever he wants).

Khris is the 'Well! Actually!-' guy, prove me wrong!

Khris is like Shego with Drago, being sarcastic and charming in his own blunt way.

Khris's outfit came from Donita, after she forced him to model for his new outfit.

Where Zach goes to get animals, Khris went off to get souvenirs or stuff from the shops there, he collects stuff like that.

Khris can eat ANYTHING! No matter what it is, glass, wood, dirt, metal, he eats it!

Even if he's intelligent, Khris doesn't have the best social skills, unless it's with Zach.

When Khris finds love, if he ever finds the one, he acts like Wall-E after he meets Eve, shy, sweet, and always wanting to hold their hands.

Khris can charge, but he doesn't sleep, because he wasn't programmed to... So he sometimes watches Zach sleep... And by sometimes, I mean often.

Obviously, there is no reason for Khris to fear anything, because Zach wants a bodyguard and a best friend, so he builds Khris to be strong and smart.

Backstory

Obviously, he's not Chris, so he ain't getting his backstory, but, he does get one of his own. So Zach built the Kratt brothers to have them against the REAL Kratt brothers, however, 'something happened' to the Martin bot, so it's just Khris all alone. Khris is envious of Chris sometimes, considering the fact he has HIS Martin, even if Khris hates him, but still... He wants his own Martin, too...

However, it ain't the same Zach we have right now, instead, it was actually Pilot Zach who created Khris and rebooted him after the Pilot Zach disappeared. Due to him being left alone old and rusty, Series Zach rebuild and reboot him in order to have a side kick and a best friend.

Khris, however, doesn't really think that much of it, considering he has his family right here, Zach, the villains, and the Zach Bots. Even if he's built by Zach, he still cares and protects him from anything, and he even protects the Zach Bots, especially from Martin, since he destroys them even more. He adores his family, even if he doesn't have a Martin... Right?...

Donita's Bio:

Full Name: Donita Annabelle Lin Donata

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday: August 11th

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Job Application: Fashion Designer/Model (Side Job)

Relationship:

Martin: Enemy/Secret Past Relationship

Chris: Enemy

Aviva: Moral Enemy

Koki: Moral Enemy

JZ: Neutral

Zach: Best Friend

Khris: Friend

Dabio: Best Friend Ever!

Gourmand: Friend

Paisley: Don't Mind

Rex: Neutral

Vert: Ambivert

Phobia: Atychiphobia (Fear Of Failing)

Favoritism

Colors: Pink, rose gold, white, and blue

Singers: Beyoncé, Whitney Houston, Alicia Keys, and Bruno Mars

YouTube: None

Animal: Puma or black widow

Hobbies: Yoga, singing, dancing, and fashion designing

Past Relationships

Donita used to date 5 people, which didn't end well for her. Her first three were with a few handsome guys when she was 15, 17, and 20, who only used her for money and status. She dated a couple of girls, who one cheated on her with her ex when they were dating when Donita was 21, and the other dumped her, due to her not liking Donita that much, and they dated a few months after her break up. She does have a thing for Martin, even before their one night stand- 🫢...

Headcanons

Donita joined a modeling gig whenever she isn't doing her fashion business, which she loves to do, but she made sure she's healthy and not in those toxic ways.

Donita loves any body shape! Chubby, thin, doesn't matter, you're beautiful in her eyes!

Donita is a theater kid, she was a star in high school. Musical, plays, even some minor roles, she's amazing at it.

Donita is lactose intolerant and is allergic to peanuts.

Esmeralda was Donita's bisexual crush when she was young.

Donita wants to show love, but is scared to, even when someone likes her.

Donita knows the lyrics to EVERY Bruno Mars song by heart.

Donita steals some people's clothes because she likes it... I think we all know who's.

Donita is a simp... She's very good at hiding it.

Donita feels pressured and nervous whenever her mother comes over and criticizes her about what her outfits look like and how Donita looks, making her feel more scared, hating to fail her mother.

Backstory

Donita is the only child to her mother, Rosalie, a fashion designer, and father, Theodore, a...MAFIA LEADER?! She's part of the Donata Family Mafia, who runs the mob business in Italy, where her parents stay. Her father supports and cares for her whenever she needs it, but Rosalie is like Cruella De Vil, like she forces her daughter to look beautiful, makes her do pageantry, puts her on a strict diet, and even teaches her how to use the beauty of the animals for her fashion, like skinning them, stealing webs from spiders, even force people to do whatever you want.

Donita was horrified, but she began to ignore it, as she proceeded to do whatever she can to make her mother proud, and she almost began to be like her, a monster, until she met Dabio, and she learns to calm down and be herself around him, but when she's around others, she's someone else entirely. She hates being like her mother, but only Dabio knows her true self, and that's exactly what she tends to keep.

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Dabio's Bio:

Full Name: Dabio Matteo Bendetti

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

Birthday: November 12th

Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius

Job Application: Assistant/Model

Relationship:

Martin: Neutral

Chris: Neutral

Aviva: Enemy

Koki: Enemy

JZ: Enemy

Zach: Don't Mind

Khris: Best Friend Ever!

Donita: Best Friend Ever!

Gourmand: Neutral

Paisley: Neutral

Rex: Best Friend

Vert: Extrovert

Phobia: Arachnophobia (Fear Of Spider)

Favoritism

Colors: Teal, yellow, and white

Singers: Disney music, Olivia Rodrigo, and Micheal Bublé

YouTube: None

Animal: Snow Tiger

Hobbies: Ribbon twirling, knitting, body building, and jogging

Past Relationships

He hasn't been in a relationship for a while, and he doesn't need to, since he never really thinks he could ever find love, due to the fact he gets shy and embarrassed of himself when he does find someone. Donita tries to help him, but he still feels overwhelmed and either runs away or freezes up.

Headcanons

Dabio is a brunette, but he dyed his hair blonde, JZ knows about it after the two ran into each other at the hair dye aisle.

Dabio has ✨ADHD✨ and dyslexia.

Dabio cries during Disney Movies.

Dabio hugs someone whenever they deserve it, so stay on this gentle giants good side.

Dabio adores children! He wants a child of his own, but it's impossible to know how to get a kid.

Dabio is obviously amazing at walking on platform heels.

Dabio uses two-in-one shampoo and conditioner.

Dabio is a gentle giant, but you hurt his friend Donita... You won't be found.

Dabio isn't very good with social skills that much.

Dabio has a fear of spiders, because when he was young, some boys pushed him into a basement full of spiders, making him have a full on panic attack, to the point he fainted. He never went near one ever since...

Backstory

He doesn't have a father, but he did have a helicopter mother, named Julia, who made sure her son is perfect. He feels pressured, insecure, and easily overwhelmed, due to her always being around him. It got worse and he came out, and she tried to force him to date a girl, where he met Donita. He didn't want to and broke down in front of Donita, who understood and pretended to date him until he moved.

Donita didn't want Dabio to struggle, so she offered a job for Dabio, who took it with excitement, not only did he want to be a model and a fashion designer, but he also loved to be around Donita, seeing her as his very first friend, and he vows to keep her happy like she did him.

Full Name: Gaston Alexandre Gourmand

Age: 45

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Ally

Birthday: November 20th

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Job Application: Chef

Relationship:

Martin: Moral Enemy

Chris: Enemy

Aviva: Enemy

Koki: Enemy

JZ: Moral Enemy

Zach: Friend

Khris: Friend

Donita: Best Friend

Dabio: Neutral

Paisley: Friend

Rex: Enemy

Vert: Ambivert (Mostly Extrovert)

Phobia: Pistanthrophobia (Fear Of Being Vulnerable)

Favoritism

Colors: White and gray

Singers: Classic Musicians

YouTube: None

Animal: Black bear

Hobbies: Cooking and baking, hunting, playing the banjo, and model planes

Past Relationships

Gourmand was in a relationship with his fiancee, but it didn't work out as the two didn't work out on anything, moving, dinner, even their opinions. They decided to part ways on good terms.

Headcanons

Gourmand instinctively cleans messes in their own house as well as other peoples.

Gourmand DESPISE Gordon Ramsay, and hated how Khris calls him "Chubby Ramsay", making his eye twitches.

Gourmand is pretty good in salsa dancing, but no one knows about that.

Gourmand is very generous in a rather twisted way.

No lie, Gourmand ABSOLUTELY LOVES spicy food and can eat a ghost pepper without crying or dying.

Gourmand is overanalytical about the most random bullshit.

This dude can do FUCKING SICK knife tricks on a whim!

Gourmand is very good at using chopsticks.

Gourmand has a knife under their bed... For reasons.

Gourmand has anger issues he can't really control... So... Yeah...

Gourmand kidnaps Chris mostly, to help Zach confess his feelings to him... But that just makes Martin angry... Which causes the two to hate each other, and Gourmand to fear him.

Backstory

Gourmand has a father, named Phillip, a mother, named Bella, a little sister, named Lily, and a grandmother, named Gina. His mother taught him how to cook, where he began to cook better than her and his grandmother, making his mother jealous and beginning to resent him because of it.

Gourmands father is sexist, due to him being raised different, and he didn't like his son for cooking and force him to hunt, which he actually likes, but it did make him act like a father to Zach and Khris, since they do cause more trouble than most of the villains, but he does care for them like son.

His sister is ten years younger than him, who is a golden child, but he doesn't really care, considering the fact he doesn't really think much about his family, but they do get credit to give him help with dream.

Paisley's Bio:

Full Name: Paisley Sue Ellen Paver

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Demisexual

Birthday: January 26th

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Job Application: Paving Company

Relationship:

Martin: Neutral

Chris: Likes

Aviva: Likes

Koki: Likes

JZ: Neutral

Zach: Neutral

Khris: Neutral

Donita: Neutral

Dabio: Neutral

Gourmand: Friend

Rex: Best Friend Ever!/Crush

Vert: Ambivert (Mostly Introvert)

Phobia: Haphephobia (Fear Of Being Touched)

Favoritism

Color: Light purple

Singer: Britney Spears

YouTube: None

Animal: Munchkin kitty

Hobbies: Doing crossword puzzles, ice skating, reading, and writing some things (notes, stories, etc.)

Past Relationships

Paisley was in one, and of course, it ended badly... She was SA'd, and she never felt comfortable with being touched, even with her best friend, Rex, she despised being touched.

Headcanons

Paisley, desperately, needs a hug, but doesn't know it and refuses to ask for one.

Paisley likes being alone most of the time, but other times, she enjoys her time with her friends.

Paisley hates short jokes, I don't blame her, they are a LITTLE annoying.

Paisley is a cat person.

Paisley is oblivous to any and all romantic interest someone may show them.

Paisley never had a pretty color or flower, until Rex said light purple and lilies, which made her happy to see him happy.

Paisley can design pretty well, like drawing and inventing, but it's sometimes rare to see her do any of those things.

Paisley instinctively cleans messes in their own house as well as other peoples.

Paisley knows 5 languages, French, Spanish, Italian, German, and Russian.

Backstory

Paisley is in the Paver company, who paves things, places, or anything the client wants. Her father, Alexander, teaches her how to run the company, since he has cancer, where she began to do the company to make her father proud, only... Her father is a corrupted business man, who hurt animals, even selling some, in order to have his paving company booming.

Paisley meets Rex during the construction of her company, and she didn't like him at first, thinking he was annoying, but she slowly grew fond of him, to the point the two began to bond and work together to make her father proud. Once she saw the beauty of the animals though... It made her realize her father was wrong and immediately stopped.

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Rex's Bio:

Full Name: Rexford William James Roosevelt

Age: 29

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Ally

Birthday: March 3rd

Zodiac Sign: Pisces

Job Application: Assistant/Construction Worker

Relationship:

Martin: Neutral/Don't Mind

Chris: Neutral/Don't Mind

Aviva: Neutral

Koki: Neutral

JZ: Likes

Zach: Neutral

Khris: Friend

Donita: Neutral

Dabio: Friend

Gourmand: Enemy

Paisley: Best Friend Ever!/Crush

Vert: Ambivert (Mostly Extrovert)

Phobia: Hemophobia (Fear Of Blood)

Favoritism

Color: Orange and green

Singer: Britney Spears

YouTube: None

Animal: Woodpecker

Hobbies: Collecting action figures, Artistry (drawing, painting, sculpting, etc), gardening, and ice hockey

Past Relationships

Same as Khris, he's single and looking for love, only he found one with Paisley, and he wanted to confess his feelings to her, but he's nervous since she was in a bad relationship and they're friends, and he doesn't wanna ruin it, because of his love for her, so he keeps it to himself.

Headcanons

Martin may prank people, but Rex joins in when it comes to Gourmand, making a neutral friendship between the two.

Rex knocks people over by hugging them.

Yes, Theodore Roosevelt is Rex's ancestor.

Rex is chaotic as hell, but he secretly acts innocent and sweet to throw people off.

Rex was forced to eat cement as a child, which made him more careful.

Rex has a anonymous account of anything DC or Marvel, he does it whenever he feels like he needed drama.

Rex looks like he wants to kill anyone when he wakes up without coffee.

Rex writes poems and leaves them for Paisley to make her day happy when she has a rough day.

Rex has fallen asleep at their desk, while working in the middle of the night. He wakes up with a blanket on him and a coffee next to him most of the time.

Rex has a stimming issue most of the time, and he doesn't mind it if it doesn't bother anyone.

Rex doesn't own a single pair of matching socks.

Rex hates blood after an incident at work that almost killed him, and there was blood everywhere, that made him immediately quizzy and sick, to the point he passed out and worked up at the hospital

Backstory

Rex has no parents or family, since they died in a freak accident, leaving him all alone. He was an orphan, who has to work his way up to make money, to the point he works at a construction place at the age of 13. It was a hard struggle, and he almost died, but he still worked hard to get cash and make a living.

As he worked his way to the top, he met Paisley and immediately fell in love, he tried to tell her funny stories and do stupid stuff to get her attention, which never works, until he calmed down and takes things slow with her, as that actually began to work and the two form a friendship. And he vowed to make her happy and loved whenever she needed it.

OMG! FINALLY FINISHED! I hope you guys enjoy this!

#wild kratts #zach varmitech #wild kratts khris #donita donata #wild kratts dabio #gaston gourmand #paisley paver #wild kratts rex #wild kratts villains #headcanon #my personal opinion #please don't judge me

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truly-sincerely · 6 months ago

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This Is A Masterpost

I'm Sincerely DeGelder. I'm a writer and part time kaiju. This is my writer bio: I will die if I go too long without seeing the ocean. My cat is Paisley and my wife is @elliwiny. I like writing comics the most, but I'm trying to teach myself to love prose too. My favorite thing to write about is awful people getting second chances. I prefer a hard-earned happy ending to a tragedy.

(art by Elliwiny, colors by me and @justerithings)

Opportunities

Sci-Fi Thriller webcomic about rotten people doing crimes and the amateur detective caught up in the middle of their schemes. Imagine if Nancy Drew was an alien who stumbled ass-backwards into the villains from Die Hard.

Currently updating Monday - Wednesday - Friday

The Verdant Deep

Action-adventure romance webcomic with an ensemble cast. It's about a group of adventurers who find themselves trapped in a dangerous underground realm. To their surprise, they find a home and a family in the sunless caverns… and a creeping otherworldly evil that seeks to devour it all.

Currently on indefinite hiatus

Cincerely on AO3

(Baldur's Gate 3)

Dark Star Falling M - durgetash/durgestarion - just act 3

Lifetaker / ɹǝʞɐɯƃuᴉʞ Gloomstalker M - part of a long-fic, durgetash - pre-canon

I'm also outlining a space opera called Black Dog Star and I talk about that and post concept work from time to time.

#Opportunities comic #The Verdant Deep #Dark Star Falling #Black Dog Star #lifetaker / kingmaker #it's me I'm cin

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jaxteller87 · 2 years ago

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Five Seconds

So, there I was, lying in bed with Amber, the woman who had come all the way from New York to spend the weekend with me. We had been sharing this bed for a few nights now, enjoying each other’s company. While I was happy to see her, and pretty sure she was happy to see me, she seemed to really love what I did with the place.

Amber has been raving about the room since she got here. Yeah, it looked nice, but I spend more time on two wheels than I do on a couch, so I don’t quite understand what she sees in it. The centerpiece of the room is a large, dark oak four-poster bed. Its rich, polished wood gushes with elegance, kind of reminds me of the luxurious bedrooms I used to see on TV when Gemma would occasionally tune into one of those cheesy soap operas. The bed is a dark earthy tone, and there are these two blankets with plaid and paisley patterns stitched into them. Amber says it reflects a touch of rustic Southern charm; I think it looks more like something my old man would have had. Not the expensive bedspread but the dated patterns.

In fact, I think I recall a picture of him with a plaid bedroll on his chopper that kind of looked like the comforter on the bed.

I’ll have to look for that photo later.

Opposite the bed, against the wall, stand a set of hard oak dressers, pretty close to the ones Donna and Ope have in their place. As I walk across the room, my feet sink into an opulent rug pressed with some intricate design, and I almost forget for a moment that I’m some rough and tough biker. Instead, I just pretend I’m an average white-collar, picket-fence guy.

Yeah, could you imagine? Me neither.

Both Amber and I are a little more morning than we are night which means that a prominent feature we both enjoy of this bedroom is the large window that floods the room in natural light. During the day, the sun beams through the window, casting warm, golden hues across the space. The dark red curtains are made from some sort of rich fabric like velvet or silk; I don’t know, Amber said they were expensive, but when drawn, they envelop the room in a warm, pink tint.

Long story short, she loves it here. But despite all the fancy furniture and inviting allure of the room, my favorite thing in it was her. As I nuzzled her neck and playfully pecked at her cheek, she gently moved away and uttered those words that any guy in the heat of the moment doesn’t want to hear, “I’m not in the mood.”

It wasn’t just what she said but how she said it. There was something deeper behind her words, her tone, a sense that something was wrong. Concerned, I asked her gently, “What’s wrong, darlin’?”

“It’s nothing,” she replied. Again, this was not the way I planned this moment going, and conversation-wise, she was giving me nothing to work with.

“Babe? Amber? You came all the way out here to visit me, and now that you’re here, you’re acting like you rather be somewhere else.”

“What? No,” she hesitated, “it’s not that. It’s just—”

“It’s just what? Tell me, so we can try and fix it together,” I laid my hand on her thigh and looked into her troubled eyes.

We stayed silent for a few seconds, but as I waited for her to say something, I couldn’t resist teasing her a little. “You know, we can’t fix it if we don’t talk about it, my love,” I gently nudged.

She sighed, burying her face in my chest.

With a huff, she replied, “I suck in bed,” pulling the blanket over her head. I followed suit, covering my head with the blanket to be close to her. I wanted to hear her, to be there for my girl.

She continued, sharing her frustrations, “Last night, it only lasted a second. You had barely done anything, Jax. Just a few kisses and nibbles, and I was already panting for more. It’s not right.”

I knew I shouldn’t have let my cockiness get the better of me. “It was just one time, Amber. Were you counting? Come on now, that’s not fair. You’re not horrible in bed,” I said firmly, pulling the blanket off her so she had no choice but to look at me.

“Look at me, Amber Lynn, please. The last few weeks have been the best sex I’ve ever had, and I mean that! We’re learning together. When we took our relationship to the next level, it was bound to hit a bump in the road, but that’s just part of the journey. A relationship is about learning and adapting to one another, right?”

“Yeah, I guess. But It’s not just about lasting longer,” she sighed. “I was so turned on; I couldn’t do anything but lie there. It’s not fair.”

“Well, it doesn’t bother me at all. Don’t I get a say in what I do or don’t enjoy?” I glanced at her.

“I guess, but I don’t know,” she paused, “it’s just different.”

“How so?” I pushed.

“You are Jax Teller,” she responded, “You could have anyone, even a damn porn star. But for whatever reason, you chose me.”

“Yeah, I did choose you. Take a moment and let that sink in. And it’s not just about experience; it’s about the connection we share.” Curious, I asked, “Has someone said something to you?”

“No, it’s not what they say, but how they look at me,” she turned away from me. “I feel like you should be with someone more experienced. Someone who you can do more with.”

I stopped her, gently making her look at me again. “Stop,” I said firmly, “You’re doing wonderful. I’m having a blast teaching you and growing with you, Amber. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” I leaned in and kissed her forehead tenderly.

“Part of the problem might be my cerebral palsy. Maybe it’s why I feel things differently or don’t like certain things. But I don’t want to blame everything on that.”

“Maybe, but you need to trust that when something does bother me, that I’ll speak up and tell you. There’s no use in getting yourself worked up over speculating on what you think, Im thinking.”I stared into her eyes.

“I wish you knew how wonderful it feels when you hold me in your arms. Words can’t even explain it,” she whispered softly, returning my embrace.

“I know what you mean; it’s the same way I feel when I’m hittin’ dat ass.” I snuck a little joke in there to try and lighten the mood.

She smiled, then became serious again, “I want us to be on an even playing field, as we discussed in my notebook a while ago. That’s why sex never interested me before because people can be so self-centered. And I’m not just talking about guys; ladies can be the same.”

“Don’t I know it,” I replied.

“I think it’s the emotional connection we have, especially last night, that gets me going more than the physical stuff,” she admitted.

“Hey, while we’re on the topic of being honest, let me just say that when you said, ‘That’s it, Jax, don’t stop,’ as I was touching you, do you know how good that made me feel?” I didn’t want to sound self-centered, but damn it all if I wasn’t being truthful.

“Really?” she asked with her big innocent eyes.

“Yes! Really!” I couldn’t help but laugh at the fact she even had to ask. “Okay, so can we be done with this for today and just get back to enjoying each other’s company?”

“Yes, of course,” she hugged me tightly, “just promise me we’ll keep growing together. I’ll never find anyone like you, Jackson Nathaniel Teller. If I’d ever lose you, I’d just—”

“Don’t say it, don’t worry about it, and don’t even think it! I ain’t goin’ nowhere, darlin’” I kissed her lips.

“I love you,” she said, kissing me back.

“So, if you want, we can explore different positions if you think it might help, but do you know why I think you don’t last very long?” I said, trying to hide my smile.

She looked up at me, curious.

“All that pent-up energy you have,” I joked, “you’re like a little sexual volcano, ready to blow.”

“Oh, you’re funny,” she gave me a sarcastic grin, “although you might be right, Jax.”

“Or it could be that you said the magic words to me, and anytime I hear you utter that majestical phrase, I become some sort of feral fuck boy,” I suggested.

“Magical phrase?” she asked.

I couldn’t help myself, responding in a sing-songy voice, “How I love it when you call me Big Poppa.”

Amber looked up at me and almost died of laughter. “Well played, Teller. Well played.”

“We laughed so hard my ribs hurt later that day. But it was in that moment I knew that we would navigate this journey together, finding pleasure and fulfillment in each other’s company.

#jax teller x disabled reader #jax teller x oc #jax teller fluff #jax teller fanfiction

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