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#it's like that guy at work who enjoys his work way too much when his job is literally just making spreadsheets
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Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕
Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?
I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻
Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:
I did my best c: I hope you like it!
Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)
Word Count: 1538
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?
A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!
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You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else. 
Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places. 
You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.
Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize. 
They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.  
You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in. 
A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to. 
You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much  to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods. 
You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own. 
For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly,  and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things - 
Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s? 
Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous? 
You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.
Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions. 
It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself. 
There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic. 
Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side. 
He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?” 
You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.
“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary. 
“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know? 
“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.” 
“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or  they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.” 
You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” 
You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?” 
Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.” 
You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad. 
 “I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper. 
“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew. 
You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?” 
Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face. 
Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?” 
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thevirgincherry · 3 days
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SUBSTITUTE LOVER !
ft. jack krauser x fem!reader, jack krauser x leon s. kennedy
tags. p in v, daddy-daughter incest, internalised homophobia, referenced domestic abuse, use of the f slur im so sorry, some kreon, smut, a little voyeurism, blood at the end
note. commission for @d10nyx !!!! feeding people what they want :3 nyxie wyxie i hope this is good n i hope u enjoy it!!!!’ LUV U MWAH.. ignore any mistakes… my editing sucks 😓 goes back n forth between krauser n reader pov pretty fast n the smut is a little boring 😓 pretend bootcamp is like not super top secret !!! also idk how american military works so ignore my attempt at that
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As a young girl, you understand love to be an unconditional, non-negotiable and non-refundable thing. It’s human nature to love, it is your god given right to love and for your father to deny you of the only thing your heart knows to do—It’s downright cruel.
He’s a military man and that comes with perks. You get to visit his platoon and get an eyeful of bulging quads and strong jaws and sweaty abs— That is the only perk now that you think about it. Oh, and that cute blond dude who still has all his hair. Duh. Otherwise he wouldn’t be blond. He’s a total babe and when he smiles, blinking at you with feline eyes as he watches quietly from behind his bangs, you find yourself keeling over to support the weight of your aching heart.
(Pussyache, heartache, it’s all the same to you.)
Whenever you ask your dad what’s so special about him, why’s he got such shiny hair? What shampoo does he use? Is it a medical condition, does he have to keep the hair? Does his head get cold or something? He goes all stiff like you’ve asked too much of him, which you never have, you ask for nothing but love.
Ever since your mother left—Well, no it’s not even that. He didn’t change when she left. Dad is the same ol’ dad you’ve had for years. Jack is Jack and your mother isn’t going to change that, she didn’t change that, so she left and never looked back. She left you ‘cause you’re Jack’s girl and nothing is going to change that. You carry a part of your father wherever you go and that would be unwelcome in her house. She told you over the phone that she no longer needed all that medication - it was just your father.
Oh, he’s not so bad. Jack keeps you fed and clothed and what else are you meant to expect from a dad? No dads love is adequate to the way you love them. Never has and never will be.
Still, he’s changed and that you’re sure of.
His temper is short, you’re well aware. You live with the guy, of course you know all about it. He flips out when the toilet lid isn’t closed, and when you give him a gentle reminder that you don’t carry the same junk he does down there, Jack gives you the cold shoulder. It’s all about gentle parenting with your dad, but the sulking has escalated into full blown temper tantrums and you don’t know where you’ve gone wrong.
Dad’s never gotten physical. Until he does. And now you don’t remember a time where he was ever kind. You’re beaten into a pulp by the hand that feeds you and you’re not quite sure where it all went wrong, what you’ve done to be on the receiving end of such intense resentment.
All you’ve ever known is a man devoted to anger, but he’s not violent. Your dad is not violent. He’s the one who picked you up when you toppled over, he taught you how to ride a bike and he put you on his shoulders to see the world from his point of view— And that is it really. Nothing more, nothing less.
You don’t have daddy issues so to say, more so it’s your father that has issues in general, and those issues are untouched by any flame, they burn brighter than tiger eyes. It seems that they’ve started to fracture, and now the only thing that brings him relief is his fist on your supple skin, a cathartic end to a hard fucking day.
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Let’s get one thing straight - Jack Krauser is not a faggot. Jack had a wife and he fucked that wife in the marriage bed once and they never fucked again. You were conceived on the first try.
A faggot couldn’t do that.
It starts with Leon S. Kennedy. He’s wet behind the ears and wet in his pink mouth and pink hole. He stares at Jack like he’s seen something nice, then he looks away a moment later, unable to hold his gaze.
Jack Krauser isn’t gay. It just gets lonely out here. It gets hard to keep his men in line and nothing scares them more than dick. Jack Krauser is not gay—And when Kennedy’s tight little hole cranks him in like a wine cork, it means nothing. This is how you get through to insolent brats, it’s the only way, no other method has worked as well as this.
If Jack Krauser was gay he would lounge in the bunk with Kennedy, he would tenderly wipe the sweat from his blond brows and kiss him stupid. But he does none of that. Kennedy is sent to shower, limping as he goes.
(Not before Jack gives him a nice hard smack on his backside and tells him to Pack it up, Boy Scout. Not before Leon presses his nose into the hollows of his neck, his boyish beam is that of a cat that got the cream, sweat gleaming to highlight the shape of his collarbones.)
So yeah. Jack is straight, and he can prove it. He would be able to prove it but the only bitch for miles left him. There’s you. But that’s fucked up. Jack wouldn’t go there.
Then you start to ask questions about Kennedy. And of course it’s him, with the petal lips and tawny lashes that remind Jack of toffee drizzled on coffee cake, of course he caught your attention— Of course he did.
(Like father, like daughter.)
You prod and he snaps, icy eyes a frigid landscape as his gaze pierces you with bone-chilling intensity. You shift from foot to foot, toying with loose threads at the hemline of your frayed nightdress.
“Sorry, dad.” You look down at your feet, wiggle your toes against the kitchen tiles and get sent into the edge of the counter when Jack lands a solid hit on your cheek.
Why, he oughta use some of that military training on you. Not the dick. Not ‘cause he’s gay, but because you’re his daughter. Obviously.
Definitely not ‘cause he’s gay.
Jack could fuck you if he really wanted. You have some, uh, assets. Yeah, you have tits, those are interesting. You have an ass, that’s nice. Got a pussy, an extra bonus. All of those are things that Jack loves. Really, he does, and he doesn’t need to prove it to anyone.
Jack takes your chin in his crushing grip, tilts your head to the left and then to the right, you tremble and make yourself small, clutching at the counter behind like you intend to saw yourself in half so your top half can make a quick escape.
“Dad…” Your little hand wraps around his wrist, fingers barely touching as you try to get him off, shaken up by his sudden burst of violence. “I’m sorry.”
He grunts, releasing you from his hold and watching your body crumple in on itself. You cup your cheek to check for damage, pressing the pads of your fingers into your jaw with a groan.
It throbs with each pulse of Jack’s heart.
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You think your dad has a crush on the rookie. It might be a stretch, but he never looked at your mom that way. It transcends love and turns into hatred and heat ‘cause your dad is incapable of producing any positive feelings towards anyone ever. You would know that better than anyone, you know him better than anyone, better than he knows himself.
His tongue runs along his white canines as he watches Kennedy hold a plank and man, he’s got it bad for the rookie. You don’t blame him - look at that form, at that ass. Dad has good taste, he gets it! Now that the two of you have found some common ground, maybe he’ll stop backhanding you into next year.
Kennedy’s given mercy by your oh-so gracious father and his body caves in, hitting the mud with a soft thump—He gets up ass first and you suck in a breath at the same time your dad lets one out. His hips raise and his hands find grip in the ground before he plants his feet, lifting his body despite the discomfort that tinges his muscles. Kennedy hobbles away and you love watching him leave. Dad must think the same ‘cause he reaches down to adjust his cargos. Gross.
You catch them in the showers a week later.
You got bored waiting around for him, okay? The showers were your main priority—Not to see this, but to catch some hunks mid scrub down and turn the place into a porn set. Life has a funny way of taking all your wants and twisting them into half-wants. Seeing Leon naked? Great, amazing, no notes. Seeing your father naked? Dear fucking lord, you need a bullet put through your brain stat.
They're giving each other a muscle massage or whatever. Code for the most tender groping you have ever seen in your life. Dad cradles the back of Leon’s head sweetly. Jesus, you don’t think you’ve ever used that word to describe him. Their lips brush and Kennedy is the one that pulls back, Jack’s head moves forward to chase them, settling with ghosting kisses along the soft skin of Leon’s neck, dotted in cocoa dust moles and a protruding Adam’s apple that gets the same delicate treatment. Along with a quick lick that draws a moan from the base of Leon’s throat.
You think you might be intruding on something more personal than sex. Holy fuck, you didn’t know your dad could do personal, you didn’t know he had the ability to love so ardently. To love at all. What a dick. You don’t know whether to look away or not.
Like, Leon is—He’s cute. You like when his feathery lashes dust his cheeks each time he closes his eyes, you like how his body, soft with baby fat, gives away to the roughness of your father’s touch. The flesh of his hips divots when Jack grips them. Your father presses his back to the cool shower wall, the buttery flesh of Leon’s ass moulds to the shape of his fingers when he tugs him close to his broad chest— Cute, he has back dimples. Jack slots his thumbs in them, and then he makes the mistake of lifting his eyes from Leon’s angel face.
The running water is not enough to stop him from spotting you, head poked into the shower room as you gape. For your sake, you dip out the door to make your exit and head back to the car, not sure on whether you should be traumatised or enlightened by the possibly harrowing image that’s burned into your retinas like the worst form of LASIK.
The ride home is silent. Dad is silent most of the time, he talks but not to you. There’s one thing to talk about, but you doubt either of you want to touch on that.
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Jack lets you in first. The door clicks shut behind him and you’re both alone. He’s always alone with you. He’s never missed his wife until this very moment. Not out of love for her, but out of pure convenience. She would break up the silence, she would remind him that he is in fact attracted to women and what you saw back there was nothing. Hell, he could give you another sibling if you asked—He could do that.
In one try, like a real man.
He could get it up, he can get it up, he only gets it up for women. Kennedy is the closest thing to a girl, alright? That’s all there is. Wait till you find out about what they do in prison. Every guy at camp has had a turn with Kennedy—That’s just how it works. It’s not about being gay, it’s not— It’s just tradition, isn’t it? Picking on pretty boys like that, it’s the only way to get rid of all that pent up testosterone or whatever it is that swelters within Jack.
When you turn on your heels to leave for your bedroom, Jack calls your name. You freeze so fast it’s almost comical. Like you’re playing musical chairs.
“Yes, dad?” Your gaze is stuck to your white socks, the print of the floorboards is mighty interesting.
His brow dips and his scowl morphs into a pained smile that brings you more fear than comfort, his hand is heavy on your shoulder and Jack thinks this expression suits you well.
“You think you're smart?” Barging in like that, making assumptions that only women would make—You don’t get it. You’ll never get it.
“No, sir.” The chill that runs down your spine straightens it.
“On your knees, girl.” The way you’re looking at him—He hates it. You think you got him all figured out, putting him together like a puzzle, but you’re missing one piece—He’s not gay.
“No,” you say while doing as he says.
(Kennedy does that, cries out No! as the plush of his ass meets Jack’s thighs, as he fucks himself like a faggot on a dick that belongs to a man who once had a wife, a man with a daughter.)
“Dad, no—Daddy, I’m sorry, I didn’t even see anything.” You hang your head, pleading with the ground as Jack fishes his soft cock from his cargos, refusing to meet the tip with your eyes.
Your apology is lost to the softness of his dick, hanging huge and limp against his thigh like a deflated balloon. Fuck—No, no, it’s not because Jack is gay, it’s the daughter thing. You’re his daughter, and to get hard at the sight of your daughter would only ever elicit a prison sentence.
“Daddy,” you try again, cradling what you have with him close to your chest, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—Please, daddy, I don’t—Dad.” You fail to plead your case, you fail to garner any interest from his cock. “If it’s about—I don’t like him, I don’t like Leon, dad, you can have him, he’s all yours I swear—Just don’t do this to me, daddy, please.”
Jack’s cock twitches at the mere mention of his name.
“What did I tell you ‘bout running that stupid mouth of yours, girl? Where are your fuckin’ manners?” He rubs the ruddy tip along the crease of your jutting lips, the bottom one trembles. “Thought I taught you well.”
“No… No, don’t do that, dad—God, no.” Your complaints are snuffed out by the fat dick that stuffs itself down your throat, half-hard and thick enough to be a choking hazard.
(It poses a threat to you, but not to Kennedy. Man can that kid suck cock, with a face like that he’s lucky he’s not begging for his life.)
You gag and Jack pinches your nose. If he had a son, he would’ve taught him to play ball. But he’s stuck with a daughter, and the most you can do is dig your nails into his thighs, mucusy spit hanging from your chin in stringy strands.
“You’re made for this,” Jack tells you, and he’s right. Biologically, those lips of yours have evolved to maximum pout to suck cock. They bear resemblance to Leon’s—The vein on the underside of his dick throbs. Jack’s jaw is offset as his teeth grind together, splintering into thin shards of bone. Not the fucking time to be thinking of the rookie and his floppy hair, softer than cotton beneath Jack’s fingers, the rookie who is shaven clean save the shadow that lines his lips, the rookie that sports hardened lines on his otherwise plush abdomen, pink skin leading to an even pinker dick—Holy shit, what’s wrong with him?
At this pace, Jack’s going to contact a fucking therapist—Have it out with his bitch wife. That’s exactly what it is. Sexual frustration he's not been able to take out on your mother.
His cock slips from your mouth, it rests heavy on your face, casts a shadow as you cower at the sheer size. “Dad…” You cough wetly, hacking up bile that you push back down with a pained gulp. “Daddy… Don’t do it to me, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to look, dad, I’m not—I’m not mad at you.”
He scoffs, lifting you by the Peter Pan collar of your floral blouse—You look like a fucking Mormon. That pisses him off. Jack’s not a Mormon or a faggot, there are so many accusations in the air and it all rises to crescendo. You’re bent over the dining table, the fullness of your skirt is hoisted up to ruche around your waist in makeshift pleats and your white cotton panties are dangling around your ankles.
The lips of your puffy cunt cushion his dick and Jack starts to feel a little queasy. Not because—Not ‘cause of the pussy. It’s not that. It’s the daughter thing. Seriously—There’s no time to waste, Jack forces himself into your pussy before his dick folds in on itself. As he pistons himself in and out of your only partially wet cunt, it feels like nothing. Jack is numb.
Feels nothing, hears nothing—Sees nothing but him. The anger inside of him rises like a devastating wave, ready to engulf every skyscraper in its path. You end up being on the receiving end as you have been for as long as you’ve been alive—His very own punching bag. What else are kids for, huh?
Your stubborn pussy pushes him out, you dig your nails into the glazed wood of the table, clawing like they might find purchase in the grooves. Dad, dad, daddy, dad—It doesn’t work on him, you do nothing for him. When you cry, he doesn’t feel sad, and when your cunt clamps down on him, it brings him no pleasure.
A hand comes to rest on your back, forcing you into a sharp arch as Jack’s hips smack into yours at a bruising pace. Somewhere along the line, a very thin line that Jack snorts, it blurs—Your salty tears become the tang of Leon’s sweat, your hips become buttercream smooth in his grip, and your pussy—Your hole milks Jack for all he’s worth. The shroud has lifted from his shoulders and Jack feels weightless.
You lift your head, blood leaking from your nose, it congeals in fat lumps on your skin. “Daddy…” You sniffle, having had your head held down, grinding your bloody nose to a pulp against the smooth of the dinner table.
“Clean yourself up, girl.” Jack rolls his shoulders back, fists tightly balled by his side as he has proved nothing. Nothing at all. He’ll have to try again. No father of yours is a faggot. Can’t do that to his little girl.
(Excuse after fucking excuse.)
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gardenschedule · 1 day
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Perceptions of Paul as calculating & John's paranoia
“McCartney’s mistake, which he now admits, was to seem invulnerable. […] And yet, he says, the contrast between himself and Lennon, so assiduously cultivated by journalists, was a fabrication. “I wasn’t brilliant at school. I was trouble, just like John. I got caned practically every day, and the only exam I ever passed was Spanish. John and I weren’t black and white, although people took John, for all his aggression, to be the good guy, because he showed his warts. I’ve only just realized, after all this time, that people like to see warts. It makes them sympathetic. I’d always though that, in order to be liked, you had to be unwarty.””
Living with The Beatles’ legacy, the smears that Lennon left behind… and the battle to win my babies back, The Times Newspaper, Monday January 4, 1982.
Paul was the easiest to talk to. He had such energy and such keenness and, unlike John, enjoyed being liked, at least most of the time. I don't see this as a criticism; John himself could be very cruel about Paul's puppy dog eagerness to please. The irony was, and still is, that John's awfulness to people, his rudeness and cruelty, made people like him more, whereas Paul's genuine niceness made many people suspicious, accusing him of being calculating. Paul does look ahead, seeing what might happen, working out the effect of certain actions, but he often ends up tying himself in knots, not necessarily getting what he thought he wanted. I think there is some insecurity in Paul's nature, which makes him try so hard, work so hard. It also means he can be easily hurt by criticism, which was something that just washed over John.
Hunter Davies, Western Mail: The Beatles. (April 9th, 2004)
Even Paul’s immaculate manners could not thaw her. ‘Oh, yes, he was well-mannered–too well-mannered. He was what we call in Liverpool “talking posh” and I thought he was taking the mickey out of me. I thought “He’s a snake-charmer all right,” John’s little friend, Mr Charming. I wasn’t falling for it. After he’d gone, I said to John, “What are you doing with him? He’s younger than you… and he’s from Speke!”’ After that, when Paul appeared, she would always tell John sarcastically that his ‘little friend’ was here. ‘I used to tease John by saying “chalk and cheese”, meaning how different they were,’ she remembered, ‘and John would start hurling himself around the room like a wild dervish shouting “Chalkandcheese! Chalkandcheese!” with this stupid grin on his face.’
Philip Norman, Paul McCartney: The Life. (2016)
“He always suspected me. He accused me of scheming to buy over Northern Songs without telling him. I was thinking of something to invest in, and Peter Brown said what about Northern Songs, invest in yourself, so I bought a few shares, about 1,000 I think. John went mad, suspecting some plot. Then he bought some himself. He was always thinking I was cunning and devious. That’s my reputation, someone who’s charming, but a clever lad. “It happened the other day at Ringo’s wedding. I was saying to Cilia [Black] that I liked Bobby [her husband]. That’s all I said. Bobby’s a nice bloke. Ah, but what do you REALLY think Paul? You don’t mean that, do you, you’re getting at something? I was being absolutely straight. But she couldn’t believe it. No one ever does. They think I’m calculating all the time.
Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981
In the wake of his death you didn’t tour for most of the ‘80s. People suggested that you were scared to go on the road. Was that true? No. People speculate about anything. They always credit me with motives I haven’t even dreamed of. It’s interesting, the way they sort of perceive my life and analyse it for me. In that case, I never thought about touring much. People used to say, “Oh, it’s 10 years since you’ve toured.” I’d go, “Is it? Y’know, I’m not counting.” That’s all that was, really. I don’t know why. Maybe I didn’t fancy it.
The Q Interview, 2007
Astrid in Germany was always a bit suspicious of Paul at first, though his relationship with Stu was also bound up in this. 'It used to frighten me that someone could be so nice all the time. Which is silly. It's ridiculous to feel at home with nasty people, just because you feel that at least you know where you are with them. It's silly to be wary of nice people.'
The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)
Paul is the easiest to get to know for an outsider, but in the end he is the hardest to get to know. There is a feeling that he is holding things back, that he is one jump ahead, aware of the impression he is giving. He is self-conscious, which the others are not. John doesn't care, either way, what people think. Ringo is too adult to think about such things, and George in many ways isn't conscious. He is above it all.
The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)
Paul today is still the public Beatle, giving interviews at fairly regular intervals, being open and honest about himself and his past, his worries and his pleasures. Naturally, as ever, there are people who suspect his motives, putting him down for being too charming. Paul may be a bit of an actor, acting the part of Paul McCartney, the charming superstar, still loved by every mum, which can make him sound rather prissy at times, but I believe he does tell the truth about himself.
The Beatles (Updated Edition) (Hunter Davies)
“My problem is to me, I come over as this very together guy, always got his finger on top of everything: the man with no problems. School – a doddle, got all the exams. This is the sort of image of me. Actually, I had murder getting through exams, like I was saying about being on tour during my GCEs. I was like the kid who was getting the cane. Just like John was, but he [Phillip Norman] makes me the very shrewd, always-going-to-succeed guy, and John is the kind of cute, working-class hero. In actual fact though, John was just as shrewd and ambitious as I was. What does me in is he adds to this image I’ve got; I resent that, because I know I’m not that, and I know I’ve never been that.
Paul McCartney’s thoughts from 1983 on Phillip Norman’s ‘Shout!’
The funny thing is, when Apple [started], everything was laid out on the table, it’s like a Monopoly game. We saw who had what. I suddenly had more Northern Song shares than anybody, and it was like, oops, sorry. John was like, “You bastard, you’ve been buying behind my back.” John saw everything like a Harold Robbins movie, you know, which it was. He’s not incorrect. I couldn’t get over the fact that we were really involved in all this. I think to this day, he’ll not understand. I don’t think he would accept right now, my naïveté in it. I think he still suspects me of trying to take over Apple. He still suspects that when I offered the Eastmans as [managers] instead of Allen Klein, he naturally assumed that I would be taken care of better than the others, and that the Eastmans could never be moral enough to be equal in their judgment and do the Beatles’ thing rather than Paul’s thing. I think they still suspect to this day.
The point I was trying to illustrate is that it wasn’t so much John being a bastard as it was his being suspicious towards me, always being suspicious towards me. There was Northern Song shares. And I swear on any holy book you want, I know he won’t believe it, but I know for sure that I didn’t buy them with the view to— If I was really trying to do it, I could have bought an awful lot more. So it does hurt a little bit that there’s someone who still thinks, like, I’m out to get them, or that I always was. That’s one of the nice things about it— It’s a pity [I never said to John, “Fuck off, I’m not trying to do it”—and never was]. But he knows I was kind of— We were behind the scenes, and we did a few little [things] that we had to do, and our ambitions, and it was never a kind of terrifying skeletons in the closet. It was always just normal—but, uh, they …
All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines
SG: Were the other Beatles anti-Linda? PMcC: Uh, yeah. I should think so. Like we were anti-Yoko. But you know John and Yoko, you can see it now, the way to get their friendship is to do everything the way they require it. To do anything else is how to not get their friendship. This is still how it is with John and Yoko. I know that if I absolutely lie down on the ground and just do everything like they say and laugh at all their jokes and don’t expect my jokes to ever get laughed at, and don’t expect any of my opinions ever to carry any weight whatsoever, if I’m willing to do all that, then we can be friends. But if I have an opinion that differs from theirs, then I’m a sort of an enemy. And naturally, paint myself a villain with a big mustache on, because to the ends of the earth, that’s how they both see me. They’re very suspicious people [John and Yoko], and one of the things that hurt me out of the whole affair, was that we’d come all that way together, and out of either a fault in my character, or out of lack of understanding in their character, I’d still never managed to impress upon them that I wasn’t trying to screw them. I don’t think that I have to this day.
All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines
I was never out to screw him, never. He could be a maneuvering swine, which no one ever realized. Now since the death he’s became Martin Luther Lennon. But that really wasn’t him either. He wasn’t some sort of holy saint. He was still really a debunker. “For ten years together he took my songs apart. He was paranoiac about my songs. We have great screaming sessions about them.
Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981
SALEWICZ: Oh, he was presumably very paranoid. PAUL: I think so. I mean, he warned me off Yoko once. You know, “Look, this is my chick!” ’Cause he knew my reputation. I mean, we knew each other rather well. And um, I felt… I just said, “Yeah, no problem.” But I did sort of feel he ought to have known I wouldn’t, but. You know, he was going through “I’m just a jealous guy”. He was a paranoid guy. And he was into drugs. Heavy.
September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London)
Miles says, “I think Jane was always a bit irritated by John. Because he was so acerbic and difficult to get on with. And paranoid. He didn’t make life easy. I suppose it’s a sort of rapier wit, but it was usually just plain ordinary rudeness. There was nothing special about it.”
Paul McCartney profile for FAME Magazine (March 1990)
“They [Lennon & McCartney] saw each other again in 1977. The Lennons and McCartneys ate dinner together at Le Cirque, Paul’s favourite French restaurant in New York. John regretted going; it was a loathsome night. Paul and Linda blathered on and on about how perfect their lives were, how they had everything they’d ever wanted, and how they were as happy as they’d ever been. Something very paranoid suddenly occurred to John. Maybe Lorraine Boyle was spying on him for the McCartneys! He woke up the next morning still feeling disturbed; he consulted the Oracle. Swan assured him that Paul and Linda were frustrated and unsatisfied. Their marriage was in trouble, he said, predicting it would break up within the year. Lately Swan’s visions had been astonishingly accurate. Relieved, John began composing a song—a little ditty, really, that would never be released—in praise of the Oracle’s powers. But he still couldn’t understand why Paul and Linda had been together for as long as they had. There appeared to be a psychic connection between John and Paul. Every time McCartney was in town, John would hear Paul’s music in his head.”
Robert Rosen, Nowhere Man: The Final Days of John Lennon, (2000)
JOHN: […..] And he’s (Jagger) goin’ on about “he never calls. Do you think he ever calls? He never calls me. And he keeps changing his phone number all the time… And he’s hiding behind the kid.” I was hurt by it! You know… The fact that… A, I never call anybody. It’s not pride, it’s just that I never, ever have. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: I never call the other Beatles, I never call anybody. They always call me. REPORTER: Why? JOHN: Cos I’m self-involved! I’m paranoid, too. I don’t like phones… There’s nobody on this earth ever got a call from me that isn’t related, probably. Or a very old friend…
Sept 1980 – John
“Yoko was an extremist and was even more intense than John taking any idea or comment of his to the limit. If, for example, he complained about any of his fellow Beatles she would hint that that Beatle had always been an enemy implying that John should never deal with that person again. Her extreme positions fascinated John and help him take his mind off himself but when she became self-involved and paranoid herself -her paranoia usually dealt with her career, her fame and the fact that even though she had always been famous everyone conspired to keep her from getting even more famous- he had no place to turn. His insecurity about his solo career, his childhood, his relationships with the other Beatles, the way the public perceived Yoko overwhelmed him and he became more and more involved with drugs.”
May Pang, Loving John (1984)
John was lucky. He got all his hurt out. I’m a different sort of a personality. There’s still a lot inside me that’s trying to work it out. And that’s why it’s good to see that wedding-funeral bit, because I started to think, ‘Wait a minute, this is someone who’s going over the top. This is paranoia manifesting itself.’ And so my feeling is just like it was at the time, which is like, He’s my buddy, I don’t really want to do anything to hurt him, or his memory, or anything. I don’t want to hurt Yoko. But, at the same time, it doesn’t mean that I understand what went down.
Paul McCartney: An Innocent Man? (October, 1986)
Some three year later, during the making of Abbey Road, Lennon installed a twin bed in the studio so that Yoko, recuperating from a car crash, could survey proceedings and pass comment though a mike he had suspended over her. The other Beatles positioned themselves around the room as best they could. Yoko would later tell Paul that if, for any reason, he’d seemed to be standing too close to her, all hell would break loose when John got her home. Lennon, she said, was ‘very paranoid’ like that.
McCartney by Chris Sandford
But we were actually quite supportive. Not supportive enough, you know; it would have been nice to have been really supportive because then we could look back and say, “Weren’t we really terrific?” But looking back on it, I think we were okay. We were never really that mean to them. But I think a lot of the time John suspected meanness where it wasn’t really there.
Paul McCartney, interview w/ Chris Salewicz for Musician: Tug of war – Paul McCartney wants to lay his demons to rest. (October, 1986)
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moonlit-heartbreak · 23 hours
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Love Languages
Xaden, Liam, Bodhi, Garrick x Reader Warnings: Slight spoilers for FW and IF, some suggestive comments and themes but nothing too explicit a/n: I love these men a little bit too much, so now you all get to enjoy my takes on each of their love languages for my first post🤭. It’s a little short and all over the place, but once my finals are over expect some longer works. Definitely let me know what you all think!
Xaden - Acts of Service
Listen, he's an important guy both as wingleader and a lieutenant and now in being on the front lines of a war, so he has to make sure to keep everyone's respect, and of course keep them all a little scared of him, so he can't get all lovey-dovey with you in public
Instead I see him being big on acts of service. Leaving you an extra piece of bread he grabbed at breakfast that morning, sharpening your swords/daggers so you're set to go for training, things of that nature
He would want to be there for you and let you know that he's looking out for you and acts of service is the perfect way for him to do that subtly but still being more involved in directly making you happy
Don't get me wrong though, when you're alone the acts of service definitely don't stop and he's good at what he does. With this I don’t mean JUST sex (even though it’d be amazing), but he would also love to brush your hair, give you a massage, whatever he can do to make you feel loved and cared for after a long day of classes and training
If there’s something specific you liked back home like a specific snack or item just know that once he finds out he’s going to be bribing one of the fliers to get it for him during a supply run so he can surprise you with it just so he can see your face light up
It works out perfect for you because not only is he making you feel like the most special person in the world with everything he does for you and how well he knows you, but getting perks like him keeping you off the schedule for your least favorite chores doesn't hurt either
The moral of the story is that he would literally do anything to make you happy, and despite how tough he acts you've got him completely wrapped around you finger
Liam - Words of Affirmation
For someone who's experienced so much loss before, he still manages to be SO kind and caring and this would 100% come through in the way he acts with his significant other, especially in terms of how he speaks to them
In public this would probably come off more as supportive and encouraging comments, helpful tips for training, or even just a quick compliment thrown in here or there. He's one of the more laid back out of all of the guys, but he still knows not to let his kindness be mistaken for weakness or allow anyone to try and use you against him, so he's careful to keep a good balance of keeping his guard up and being sweet with you
With that though, neither of you really have anything to worry about. He's the strongest cadet in his year and he trusts that you can hold your own so he'd still be pretty open with you in public
He's the type of guy who would never want to say goodbye without an 'I love you" thrown in there, even if you'd had a disagreement or you're (somehow) upset with him. Words are so important to him and he's going to make sure to tell you how he feels no matter what
I mean think about it, with all those letter he wrote to Sloane this man is a master at communication and he knows how to do it well
SO good at reassuring you. Ever doubting yourself or your abilities? Worried you’re not being a good enough partner? Nervous about opening up to him about something? He knows exactly what to say to calm you down or make you feel better every single time without fail. He just has such a way with words, and when he speaks to you in that soft "everything's going to be alright" voice there's no way you wouldn't feel at least a bit better
I have no doubt in my mind that he would have the sweetest nicknames for you and know exactly what to say when you need it, he’s just the sweetest thing to grace the continent and you’ll be reminded of that every time he speaks his sweet words that make your heart flutter
Bodhi - Physical Touch
This man... I definitely see him lovinggg physical touch. He needs you like he needs air to breathe and he isn't afraid to let the rest of the world know it
He's a confident guy so naturally he'd love to show off his significant other; walking with an arm slung over your shoulder or around your waist, sitting right next to you during meals so that your arms and legs brush against each other, holding hands or even just loosely linking your fingers together while you study, he loves it all
You two have definitely been told to get a room once or twice during training when your sparring sessions get a little too intense (gods bless the innocent bystanders who have to bear witness to that, especially the poor boys who are practically his brothers)
Obviously he knows how to balance his leadership responsibilities with spending time with you so he knows when he has to take a step back and get serious, but trust me, every chance he gets he's finding a way to be right next to you
When you guys are alone... oh boy get ready to be next to him all night long. Whether you’re laying together on one of your beds just talking before you settle in to sleep for the night, sitting on his lap while you both work on your own assignments, showering together, he’ll find a way to make everything a team effort just to be as close to you as possible
Don’t worry though, he knows when to give you your space so if there’s ever a day where you simply want a little alone time he would never push any boundaries and would respect whatever you wanted. However, if you’re trying to avoid him because you’re upset or anything of that nature he’s going to figure out what’s wrong and make sure you’re alright
Bodhi Durran the man that you are... At the end of the day he would be such a sweet partner to you and all of his actions, from full on cuddling to just brushing past each other briefly in the hallway, proves to you every day that he adores you
Garrick - Quality Time
Garrick is definitely more on the serious side, especially in public, but don't underestimate him as a partner because this man knows how to make you feel loved
Being close to you serves multiple purposes for him; it lets him keep an eye on you to make sure you're safe, and it simply brings him the sense of comfort he always gets from being near you
He’s super secure in himself and you, not doubting either of your abilities or your love for one another but just getting to be around you makes him happy. Whether it be sitting together to study, you talking his ear off about whatever antics you and your squad got up to that day, or even just training at the same time even if you’re on opposite sides of the gym sparring with different partners. Spending time with you or just being near each other is how he shows that he's there for you and that he loves you so he'll take whatever time he can get
With spending so much time with you and the fact that he’s a very observant guy, he would be able to read you like a book. There’s no hiding how you’re feeling because he’ll pick up on all of your little tells and know exactly how to go about making you feel better
Along with how observant he is and how deeply he knows you, I also feel like he would give amazing advice too. Disagreement with a friend? Not able to get the hang of a new weapon you’ve been training with? Stressed about an exam and not sure how to study? He has advice for all of it, and he knows when to step in and help you but also when you’ll want to be left alone to figure things out yourself
Whenever you both get a day off (which wouldn’t be often, I mean you have a war to prepare for) it’s always spent together. When you’re able to get some time together in Aretia, he’d take you to some tucked away corner of Riorson House him and Xaden would hang out in as kids just so you could get a few uninterrupted moments alone together, which you both cherish more and more as you inevitably get busier
He might be one of the most intimidating out of all of his friends and arguably out of most other riders as well, but underneath that sexy muscly exterior, he’s got a crazy soft spot for you; and while it might not be fully apparent to anyone who isn’t looking closely enough, you know just how much he loves you and that’s all that matters to the two of you
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fabuloustrash05 · 2 days
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Some of My TMNT Hot Takes (PART 2) 🔥
Warning: More Opinions
Part 1 Here
I don’t like that in Mutant Mayhem Donnie is not a “science guy” but instead is more of an anime and pop culture geek. I’m not against him being an anime fan (I love anime too) but I wish we saw more of his science and being a tech genius side instead of him just liking stereotypical “nerdy stuff”. If that makes sense.
I don’t like the Punk Frogs (any version).
The 87 crossover episodes in the 2012 series (as much as I did enjoy them & are great episodes) should not have happened. They leave no real impact or development to 2012’s overarching story and just waste time. These episodes could’ve covered more important things that 202 was desperately lacking like like character exploration and character dynamic development. It was just nostalgic fanservice. The arc in S5 specifically would’ve work better as a movie instead of a 3-4 episode arc in the (most likely non canon) final season.
Shinigami being Mikey’s second love interests ruins her character a bit (for me personally). That was a pointless decision that did NOT need to happen. She would’ve been our first recurring female character to not be a love interest, but nope!
People are allowed to like/ship Donnie x April in ROTTMNT (this is coming from someone who’s not crazy about April being shipped with the Turtles).
I ship Yuichi with 2012 Leo more than Rise Leo (still ship Rise Leoichi, but I just think 2012 Leoichi is way more interesting, plus 2012 Leo deserves a good love interest).
The humans in Mutant Mayhem look ugly af (I know that was probably an intentional design choice but still. It looks bad.)
I hate Raph x Casey (any ver). I’ve stated in part one that I don’t like Raph (any version) being in a romantic relationship with human characters and yes, that meant him with Casey. Not only that but Raph and Casey being a couple ruins their whole dynamic and iconic friendship I love so much. I’m all for friends to lovers but they are a line that should not be crossed. Not every friendship needs to turn romantic.
2012 Karai’s hair looks bad.
Fans often over exaggerate Rise Donnie’s character and badly mischaracterize him in fanfics and fan comics to the point it makes him feel like he’s an entirely different character.
Shinigami should have been revealed to be a villain.
Rise Donnie was just as mean to his brother as fans claim 2012 Raph was to his. Yes, they both do love their families and I’m NOT saying either of them are abus!ce (they’re not), but fans praising Rise Donnie for doing similar things fans criticize/hate 2012 Raph for doing just makes them hypocrites.
Venus does NOT need to be in every iteration of TMNT. It gets kind of annoying when fans keep on saying that she should be in all the other iterations when in truth her presence would not make sense based on the already established canon story. The only (recent) version of TMNT where I think her being included would’ve fit the best and deserved to make her comeback in is ROTTMNT.
The side plot of 2012 Karai being mutated and later getting brainwashed by Shredder was a waste of time and the most boring arc in the series.
2012 April, Donnie and Casey being in a poly relationship does not fix anything with their problematic dynamic and massive flaws with one another. I'm not saying you can't ship all three of them together, you do you! Idc But in reality their relationship would be a train wreck, that's why I personally don't ship 2012 Capriltello.
Renet is probably one of the most powerful allies the Turtles have in the 2012 series.
Rise Donnie would NOT hate 2012 April. He’d go crazy over her psychic powers and want to study them to help her explore them more.
From what I've seen so far, Leo x Usagi seems like the only GOOD ship in the 2003 series (this hot take might change tho).
Raph had the best character arc and development in the 2012 series and changed the most out of the four brothers. Next would be Leo. With Mikey and Donnie have little development (or none at all sadly).
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Was that a fucking raccoon
Barbie dolls: rosekiller x you (Barty crouch, Evan rosier, &you)
Word: 1.8k ish
Summary: Barty goes on a fun adventure on his way to cuddling with you and Evan in his animagus form
Warnings: Barty is raccoon. Allusions to dorlene
Barty enjoyed wrecking havoc while in animagus form. A.) no one really knew who it was so there were basically no reprucusions. B.) he liked hearing people go ‘was that a fucking raccoon?’. He like how easy it was for him to take shiny things. He basically became a niffler. He liked how his tiny little raccoon hands could get into nooks and crannies he couldn’t in human form. Barty liked crawling around on the ceiling and dropping down onto people when they least expected it. He wasn’t sure how long he physically could stay in animagus form, but he knew after two days straight he’d forget his size. He’d try to scatter off through a small hole only to realize he was a people :(.
The second he found out all the student body had an extra free day, he knew he’d be in animagus form. Barty woke up quite early that day, 10 am. He jumped out of bed, immediately turning into a raccoon. Barty skittered out the door and started racing up and down the halls, deciding what to do first. He ran out towards the courtyard, deciding fresh air was his first task. Barty ran around the closest tree, before making his way up into the branches. He found a squirrel frozen in fear from his presence. Barty heard someone talking under the tree. He poked his head down.
It was the same guy from second year who tripped Evan. Barty attacked the squirrel, pushing it off the branch. The squirrel squirmed in the air as it fell. It hit the boy square in the head, before clawing at his shoulders. Barty chirped out a laugh as the squirrel ran away, leaving a large scratch mark on the boys face. Barty pranced off the branches waltzing away from the tree.
Barty walked down the halls, looking for something else to do. Barty spotted the door to his least favorite professor off to the side. Once you came in late to his class and the professor wouldn’t let you in, you missed the entire class. Barty considered it karma. He ran into the office, scattering behind the desk. He found a locked drawer. He was able to pick the lock easily, his tiny raccoon hands working swiftly. He peered inside. Boring test answers. So maybe stealing wasnt the best route, there’s nothing much to take.
He started running around the room, knocking over everything he could. He kicked over the professor’s tea, spilling it on his papers. Barty continued chasing his own tail around the room. He broke glass items. He ripped papers. He found the professor’s snack drawer. Barty was deciding which snacks he wanted more when he heard the door smack into a knocked over chair.
“What the hell?” Barty poked his head up, over the edge of the desk. The professor stared at him blankly. Barty latched onto the closest three snacks before running off. He slid between the professor’s legs, out the door. He ran down the hallway, ignoring the professors yells. He turned the corner and hid in a nearby empty closet.
Barty sat on the floor, looking to see which snacks he got. He got a bag of pretzels, Fritos, and an individually wrapped cupcake. He ripped open the pretzel bag. A few flung into the air. One smacked him in the head. He ignored it munching on his pretzels. Barty hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, though now it’d be more of a lunch. He finished his pretzels fairly quickly. Barty wiped his hands on his fur before ripping into the Fritos. He finished those fast too. He looked at the cupcake, deciding he’d save it for later. He looked around the closet. Barty climbed up the shelf. He searched through all the cleaning supplies. He found a small blue towel. He snatched it and jumped off the shelve. He landed on his feet just fine, picking the cupcake and towel in between his teeth.
He left his trash in the closet, before running back out into the halls. Barty needed to find Dorcas. He scattered off towards her favorite place. In the hall towards the astronomy tower was a cushioned bench. Dorcas often sat and read there. It was quiet and very few people actually left down that hall.
Just as he suspected, Dorcas was sitting on the bench with her book open in her lap. He ran up towards her. She glanced up at the sound of a raccoon’s paws. Barty jumped up onto the bench, dropping the small towel and cupcake on her book. She brushed her fingers between his eyes, petting the top of his head.
“Hello, Barty. I see you're stealing today.” Barty flared his teeth at her. Lies. Barty would never steal. He just borrows without permission. Barty patted the towel before jumping back onto the floor and pointing at her backpack on the ground.
“You want something out of my backpack?” Barty huffed and slapped his paw on top of the towel again. Dorcas stared at the towel for a long moment before she glanced back at her backpack.
“You want the towel to be a little raccoon backpack?” Barty celebrated her understanding by spinning around in a circle. Dorcas nodded, accepting the challenge. Dorcas was a quite crafty person, Barty was entirely certain she could do it. After a few minutes of Barty exploring the area around the bench, bored of sitting and waiting, Dorcas called out to him. He came back to her. She motioned for him to spin around. Barty followed her orders. Dorcas gently helped Barty slip his arms through the straps of his towel backpack.
He chittered happily. Barty patted the cupcake in Dorcas’ lap before spinning around again. Dorcas understood, slipping the cupcake into his backpack. Barty chittered again, giving Dorcas a nip on her finger in appreciation. He started off again, his claws clacking on the stone floors. Just as he turned the corner he ran into someone's boots. Barty pulled back, staring up at the assailant.
Marlene stared down at him in confusion. She squated down and reached out to pet him. Barty pulled his head away. He heard Dorcas call Marlene’s name. Marlene glanced up towards the corner. She stepped around Barty as he ran away. Barty slid down the stair banisters as he headed towards the Slytherin common room.
He took a shortcut through the courtyard. Barty spotted a pretty color out of the corner of his eye. He backtracked. Barty plucked the flower. He held it between his teeth as he booked it the common room again.
On his way he noticed familiar hair hanging on the wall. Pandora had found a high up window sill. It was thick enough for her to lay on her back up there. Her head was dangling upside down from the edge of the sill. Barty chittered. Pandora smiled at him upside down. Barty spun around in a circle, earning a cheer from Pandora. Barty sat back on his hind legs, pulling the flower out from between his teeth. He held it out towards Pandora. She gasped and pulled her wand from her pocket. The flower left Barty's hand, floating off towards Pandora. Just as Barty was about to leave, Pandora called to him.
A small box of dark chocolate came down from the window sill, settling gently in front of him. Barty purred, thanking Pandora. He picked up the box before prancing into the common room. The door opened. The mystery Hogwarts raccoon was an honorary Slytherin in the student body’s eyes.
The few people in the commonroom greeted him with various names. No one could pick their favorite so he was ‘Mr. Snuffles Patty-cake Betty Brian Mittens Trashy Panda Man’ most of the time. If someone reached out to pet him he jumped away.
Today Mr. Snuffles Patty-cake Betty Brian Mittens Trashy Panda Man was on a mission. He ran up the stairs to the dorms. Barty took them as fast as one raccoon can go. He found the door easily. It was propped open with a book, a divination book more specifically. Barty set the box down before nudging the door open with his nose. He grabbed onto the box with his teeth again, prancing into the dorm. He shut the door with his behind before glancing around the room.
Your shoes were set perfectly straight on the floor next to Evan's bed. Your bookbag was sat next to them. Barty ran over to Evan's bed, seeing the outline of you both on top of it. Barty tripped over your shoes, knocking them out of place. He dropped the box of chocolate out of his mouth before standing up on his hind legs, pawing at the sheets. He announced his presence with a sad chirp, missing out cuddles. You popped your head up, glancing down. You smiled at seeing your favorite raccoon.
“Hello, darling. Did you have fun?” You muttered petting Barty between his ears.
“Barty's back?” Evan whispered his voice muffled by his pillow. You watched as Barty pulled his box of chocolate up, holding it out towards you. You took it and set it on the bed, before helping Barty up onto the mattress. Barty grabbed onto the chocolate pulling it towards the gap in-between you and Evan.
Your legs were pressed against each other. There was a large gap in between you two. The only other part of your bodies that were touching were your foreheads. The space between you two was creating a makeshift nest.
Barty pushed the box of chocolate towards Evan. Evan peeked one eye open, teetering on sleep. He smiled at Barty, thanking him. Evan picked up the box, turning backwards to set on his nightstand. Evan thanked Barty again, giving him scritches behind his ears. Barty turned his back towards you, pointing his backpack out towards you.
You helped his arms out of the makeshift sleeves. Barty spun around, pulling the cupcake out of the towel. He jutted his head out towards you, the cupcake package held between his teeth. You gently took the cupcake out of his mouth. He stared at you as you awkwardly sat with it in your hands.
“For me?” Barty nodded, nudging it further back into your palm. You cooed, rubbing Barty under his chin. He purred at you. You set your cupcake on the other nightstand behind you. You laid back down pressing your forehead against Evan's again. Barty spun around in circles between you two, trying to find a comfortable place. He finally sat down, curling up into a ball.
You reached out and pet him gently. Barty's eyes fluttered close. Your movements slowed as you fell asleep yourself, your hand resting on Barty's back.
Barty loved wreaking havoc in his animagus form, but his absolute favorite thing is cuddling with his two partners in animagus form. He didn't appreciate Evan's loud ass snores, though.
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houseofevanbuckley · 12 hours
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I had some idea that made me sad last night, and I thought well, why not sharing it here
I’ve seen a lot of fics about the 118 giving the shovel talk to Tommy, and I was wondering what if they pushed too hard?
One is alright, especially from the family or the closest friends, but Tommy receives a visit from each and everyone.
And he welcomes it, takes it as part of the dating process, especially dating into the weirdness that can be the 118.
But it still gets to him, and then Hen and Chimney comes as well and that’s what struck him the most.
They knew him, and they knew how he was and they see how he is now, and he starts to worry. Because maybe they don’t mind having him around them, that they know and see his growth and it’s enough for them, but is it enough for their little brother? For the 118’s baby?
And it makes some doubt grow and fester in his mind. What if he isn’t? Would all these people come to him like that if he was good for Buck? If he was enough?
And he likes Buck so much already, so so much. But maybe, maybe their first date was a sign.
Maybe he should let go of that sun, that is Evan Buckley
And he cancels one of their date, and goes to the one after, but he’s distracted, looking at Buck and seeing if he’s really happy to be here. Except maybe his own attitude is having Buck worried as well and he frowns a little, but he still enjoys the date. They still have a good time.
But that fucking doubt, you know? And he cancels the next date. And another one.
He does run to the 118 when Buck is injured. He can’t even imagine staying away, coming in and checking on that sweet sweet man.
But Buck told the others about the 3 canceled dates and maybe Hen or Eddie make a little remark about it which fuel even more his spiraling mind.
They text a lot still, but it’s still a lot less. It’s not that visible at first, going from 100 texts a day to 90, to 80. It’s a lot more visible when it’s halved, though.
Tommy mopping at the 217, refraining himself from going all in like he wants, like he’s been fucking craving since that first date.
And Lucy fucking snaps. She knows how intense the 118 is, how they can sometimes close rank around one of them and maybe close a little too much, so she decides to visit them and have a few words with them.
Buck who sees it, who hears Lucy talking to them, telling them to fucking ease on the peer pressure, on the expectations, to let Buck&Tommy breath and the 118 wincing because yeah, they may have been a bit heavy-handed with the shovel talks.
Buck who knows his family, and knows that yeah it comes from the heart but their intensity can be off the charts so he leaves with Lucy to go to the 217 and have a talk with Tommy who’s still moping and so distraught until Buck comes up behind him and hug him.
And they talk, they talk for hours, about the shovel talks yes, but also about what it brought back, about past Tommy and his doubts. His fucking doubts that he’s going to taint Buck in some ways and the fear that goes with it, the fear of hurting such a sunny guy and how Tommy would rather hurt them both now with a simple break up even if it’d break his heart than risking to change Buck.
And Buck can’t have that, seeing this strong man being so worried, so vulnerable in front of him, and he kisses him to shut him up. Something that he knows Tommy likes to do to him, and now he absolutely sees why when he sees the little daze look on Tommy’s face.
And they talk some more, and more until they finally, finally, hug it out once it’s all out, once the silent tears finally get out of Tommy’s eyes and taking his worries with them.
They end up at Buck’s loft where they spend the night cuddling and talking, both calling off work the next day when they realize that they talked until 5am and neither of them can handle a shift.
They spend the day in bed around each-other.
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wonbadtz · 5 hours
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ riize + how much rizz do they have?
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ot7 x female!reader
genre: fluff, crack (?), suggestive
warnings: none!
a/n: this is the first time i'm trying something like this, enjoy <3
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shotaro ̗̀➛ 6/10
he's quite difficult to read when it comes to his rizzness. i feel like it would depend on the kind of vibe you give off to him as well. he seems shy, but if he feels comfortable around you then his game becomes a lot stronger. his rizzing game reaches its peak when he's at places he feels at ease, such as the dance studio. dancing is almost like a love language to him; if words don't work, he's willing to let his body do the talking.
eunseok ̗̀➛ 7/10
i know this rating could be higher but LISTEN; this man doesn't even have to try to rizz you up because he already has you hooked. and he knows it. with a face card like his, he wouldn't even bother trying anything with you. just one look from him, one smile, one single brushing of his fingers on your arm and you're done for. funny thing is, he knows exactly what effect he has on you just by looking at you, simply for just existing. plus his immaculate sense of humor is a huge bonus too. whatever he does — or doesn't do — you're very much whipped for him.
sungchan ̗̀➛ 5/10
listen, i love my man sungchan but he's just so awkward. even though he's super hot, he doesn't realize it and his rizz game becomes such a mess. he would make silly jokes and laugh awkwardly around you, hesitant to approach you because he just doesn't have the confidence to do so. and you don't understand why. his awkwardness makes him cute though, and paired with his toned arms and insanely ripped abs, you can see through his efforts to win you over. and he does win you over in the end.
wonbin ̗̀➛ 3/10
sorry... he's too babygirl to flirt and make the first move. he is the one who actually waits for you to make the move because he knows that if he approaches you, he's gonna make a mess. he's too scared of embarrassing himself. similar with sungchan, he suffers from extremely pretty face syndrome, yet his confidence is quite low. he would tend to laugh and giggle a lot, scratching the back of his neck every time you would make eye contact with him. he's just very very shy.
seunghan ̗̀➛ 1737284/10
don't tell me this man doesn't know how to rizz up girls, come on. the literal definition of charisma, he just knows how to talk to you, how to touch you and how to make you feel comfortable around him. he seems like the kind of guy you would meet at a club once and never forget him because he would leave such a big impression on you. he probably kissed you all night long and asked for your number afterwards, but he actually never called. this is all part of his game though, he just knows what he's doing.
sohee ̗̀➛ 9/10
this boy screams 90's heartthrob; he has the type of face and energy you would find in a male protagonist of 90's rom-coms. the only reason why i didn't give him the perfect 10/10 score is because he still needs to work a little bit on his rizzing tactics in order to unleash his full potential. you may find him very cute and adorable at first, but in reality he's very slick with the way he talks to you. he wins you over in a matter of a few minutes with his boyish grins and cheerful attitude.
anton ̗̀➛ 6/10
same as taro, i can't read through him. he's cute, tall, pretty, quiet and calm. he doesn't have to go to extremes to win you over, even though he feels like he should. this american energy he carries around makes him seem more carefree and laid-back, so even though he initially gives off awkward vibes, in reality he's far from that. he would start talking to you with pick-up lines, hoping they would work. they do work, but not in the way he thought they would; instead, you laugh at them and hit him back with a pick-up line too, which makes him giggle and open up to you more. next thing you know, you're waking down the beach with him, holding his hand.
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TAGS: @seunghancore <3
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Truth or dare - Joe Toye x F!Reader
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Summary: Could taking Toye's cigarette from his mouth on a dare be the push Reader and him need to cut the recent tension in their friendship?
Warnings: Cursing, heavy make-up, suggestive ending. 1st person POV (female, no use of y/n).
A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.
A/N pt 2: This is the second fic I've posted today and I'm really hoping it's good. The ending leaves room for a possible smut part 2 if anyone is interesting. Comments, likes, reblogs mean everything to me. Thank you & enjoy!
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"What's so funny?" I ask as I sit down at the nurses table in the mess hall. I got there just in time to grab the last bits of lunch options before my shift starts.
"We are playing 'truth or dare' and Emily just had to answer who she'd rather kiss: Tab or Luz." Betty told me between giggles.
"Well? Who'd you pick?" I shoot Emily a smirk, already knowing her answer as we've been the only ones in our group that came from Toccoa and therefore the closest.
"Tab." Her face gets redder, as if that was possible, then she gets a mischievous look in her eye. "Your turn. Truth or dare?"
"Dare." I know she knows too much dirt on me to let her ask a question. But judging by the smile spreading on her face, I'm not sure I chose correctly.
"Go get that cigarette Toye is smoking." Her smile widens as the girls within earshot say 'oh' and some whistle.
Joe Toye is not someone that most of the nurses like dealing with. Not that he's rude or inappropriate, he just intimidates them. Not as bad as Spiers, but they put him right up there. From an outsiders point of view I can understand, he's not overly friendly like most of the guys in Easy you have to work a little to weasel past the hard exterior.
For myself, all I had to do was shoot Tab down for the billionth time back in Georgia as I was wrapping up his ankle that he twisted on yet another Currahee run. Don't get me wrong, I like Tab but not in that way and the quicker I could make him understand that the sooner we could just enjoy being friends.
Right when I was finishing up with his wrap, he started to say another pick-up line and being at my wits end I snapped a little. Grabbing his ankle I put enough pressure on it that made him stop talking and sit up straighter.
"Tab, if you come onto me one more time I will break your ankle. Do you understand me?" I kept my voice low and hard, maintaining direct eye contact so he knew I wasn't playing. With a small gulp, he nodded his head and I put on my most charming smile. "Wonderful, now take it easy with that ankle. If Sobel gives you a hard time about it, let me know and I'll put in a word with my supervisor to find a reason to annoy him."
With a final nod, I got him off the bed and started to help him to the door when a hand pushed me to the side and took my spot next to Tab. My protest died on my lips as I came face to face with Toye.
"I can take him from here, ma'am, thanks." He threw Tab's arm over his shoulder and started moving to the door. Two steps later he looked over his shoulder back at me with a small smirk on his face and said, "Remind me to not piss you off when you're fixing me up." Without waiting for a reply, he turned back around and kept himself and Tab moving.
From that day forward a friendship of sorts grew and since landing in Europe and dealing with the horrors of the war in our faces everyday, we'd grown even closer. The past few weeks things are taken a turn to being more flirty with beginning stages of intimacy. Jokes whispered in each others ears just so we can be closer than normal, fingers touching when handing each other items, lingering hugs, forehead and cheek kisses. It was all adding up and creating a tension neither of us seemed ready yet to break but didn't want to dispel either.
Emily's foot nudging mine under the table breaks me from my memories and makes me send her a glare. She's fully aware of the gray area Toye and I are in at the moment and seems to be all too happy to add fuel to that fire. I give a loud sigh and look around till I find him sitting a few rows to our left, sitting with Guarnere and Buck. Inwardly I groan, those two are never going to let me live this down.
With a final glare in her direction, I stand up and make my way over towards the guys. I can feel all of the girls eyes on my back which does nothing in helping me stay calm.
All three of them see me at the same time and smile in greeting.
"Hey doll, how's it going?" Buck asks as I sit across from him, next to Toye.
"About to go on shift, thought I'd say a quick hi and get a smoke." I shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Here ya go." Bill tosses his pack my way from next to Buck.
"Thanks, but uh, I think I'll take this one." Before I can over think it, I pluck the cigarette resting between Toye's lips and take a long drag. I blow the smoke right in his face, hoping it'll hide how red my face is and stand up quickly. "Always a pleasure."
I practically jog to the nurses table, ignoring the laughs and 'good jobs' as I grab Emily by the arm and force her to leave the mess hall with me. I don't let go of her until we are nearly at the medic station. With a final puff I toss my stolen cigarette into the road and turn to face my friend that hasn't stopped beaming at me since I grabbed her.
"What?!" I sound almost frantic.
"Oh calm down, it's not the end of the world. It was just a cigarette."
"How do I even begin to explain what that was?" I put my hands on my hips.
Emily shrugs and flicks some invisible dust off her shoulder, "Just tell him that it was dare. But honestly, I don't think he really cares why you did it. The way he was looking at you as we left was more than mild interest. You're welcome." She pats my cheek and goes into the medic station, leaving me with no choice but to groan and follow her.
It doesn't take long for me to push the earlier experience from my mind and become overwhelmed with current and new patients in need of varying medical attention. Most are stable and just need an easy wrapping or cleaning up. There's a few that have been with us for a little while that still need monitoring but they're in relatively good spirits so it helps make the shift not too depression.
It's fully dark outside when I finally am able to step away and take a breather. With a signal to Emily letting her know I'll be around back, I slip out quietly and lean against the backwall of the building. I can't be alone more than a few minutes when I hear footsteps heading my way. I just want to be alone. But my annoyance goes away when I see who it is.
Neither of us speaks as he stops right in front of me and tucks a lose piece of hair behind my ear.
"You okay?" His words are soft and light, barely above a whisper as if he's afraid anything louder would break the small bit of peace we've managed to get in this hidden area. All I do is nod, not wanting to elaborate on the different faces and wounds I've been dealing with the past hours. His response is to pull me in his arms and spin us around so that his back is against the wall and I'm leaning against him.
We stay like that for a bit, listening to the noises on the street and each other breathing. It's nearly enough to make me fall asleep when I feel his chest rumble and the question I've been dreading is asked.
"So what was that at lunch?" I groan into his chest before pushing back far enough to look at his face. Fuck Joe Toye for being beautiful and sexy at the same time when he allows himself to give a full smile, not just a smirk.
"The girls were playing truth or dare and that was my dare. Sorry." I shoot him a small smile and pray he just drops it. He gives a small hum as he takes in my words.
"Well then, truth or dare?" He leans more against the wall, waiting for my answer. I gape at him.
"You can't be serious." The intimidating Joe Toye is trying to play 'truth or dare' with me? What the fuck.
"I'm always seriously," Joe winks, "so, truth or dare?" The glint in his eyes tells me there is no safe choice.
"Dare." I'd rather do something stupid than be asked something I'd rather not answer right now.
The silence stretches between us almost to an unbearable point, making me start to fidget in his arms.
"Close your eyes." His words make me freeze and my face scrunches up in confusion.
"That's my dare?" I'm trying to figure out what the catch is, but I can't find one.
"Close. Your. Eyes." His voice leaves no room for argument and since it's not anything crazy all I can do is comply.
With my eyes closed I try to use my others senses to figure out what his next step is. At first all he does is stand up straighter, move one hand up my back and gently cups my cheek. Joe pulls me a little closer to him and then I can feel his breathe on my lips.
"I'm going to do something now and I only want you to respond if it's something you really want. If you don't, just push me away." I barely finish processing his words when his lips brush against mine softly, teasingly.
When I don't make a move to push him away, he gently pecks my lips still in a teasing manner. The next time his lips touch mine I grab onto his jacket to hold him there and kiss him back. At the feel of his tongue tracing my lips I open my mouth and let him have complete control.
We lose track of time staying wrapped up in each others arms, making out like teenagers. We break apart at the same time when we finally need air. I'm not sure what comes over me but I kiss along his cheek, making my way to his neck and begin nipping at his exposed flesh. The hand that had been on my check moves to my the back of my head, fisting my hair but not moving me away. His breathing is becoming more ragged and when a groan escapes his lips from a particular bite I leave I feel like I've died and gone to heaven. As my tongue works to sooth the sting, the hand that was on my back drops down and grabs my ass, pushing my hips against his, letting me feel his erection.
"Joe." His name comes out as a whimper mixed with a moan and that makes him grind against me again.
Just as we are about to kiss again, someone clears their throat and we freeze.
"Very sorry to interrupt, and believe me I am sorry, but I need help checking wounds and restocking the stations." Emily's voice is both amused and apologetic.
"Yeah, I'll be right there, Em." My voice comes out much too ragged but it's not like she doesn't know the reason at this point. I wait till her footsteps grow faint, before beginning to pull away from Joe. He's slow to let me go and only manages to move his hands back to my waist.
"I should be off in a few more hours...can I come find you after?"
"No need, I'll be waiting outside for you. I believe we have some things to finish." He pulls me flush against him, making his point perfectly clear. Before I can think of a cheeky response, he gives me a final, firm kiss and spins me around towards to way back inside the building.
I walk a few steps, then turn around and shoot him an innocent smile, "No touching before you find me, Toye. I have a few ideas on how to spice up 'truth or dare'." I laugh lightly to myself when all I can hear as I round the corner to the building entrance is Joe cursing.
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xenomorphicdna · 3 months
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Flames,, blanket boy, my beloved
I gotta draw more art like this of him, he's such an odd creature I love him so much
There's so much to his character that I never talk about aaa I'll make a lore post eventually
#i have thoughts about this guy#he's so hungry for affection and that social and physical contact he see's all the people in his city get#he's takes up so much after them in so many ways#maintenance on this guy... mechanics working on checking all the wires and circuits and touching all the sensitive nerves and neuron flies#its nice that his entire structure is well taken care of but he also wouldnt be able to focus on anything else#he's so used to working in perfect undisturbed conitions..must be so distracting when something changes#he'd have his overseers watching as they plug things in and test stuff and poke around in his guts#and maybe he'll enjoy it a too much and he'll beep when a cable is pushed in.. its not like the sounds are unusual#the structure is alway whirling and buzzing.. whats a few extra clicks and hums when a particularly sensitive component is touched#its not like they would know unless they were really paying attention to the sounds and looking for a reaction#trying to please their beloved supercomputer#he longs for the same love they're capable of but it does quite work out. They can't hug him in a way that feels the same#does affection mean anything to him when its so little. They cant love him in a way that properly means something#i guess flames eventually getting into a relationship fills that affection hole#someone who speaks the same language. someone who he can relate to and understand#someone capable of touching all his systems in just the right way#ajfjsj went off i the tags here uh im so tired im kinda losing consciousness as i was typing oops#rain world#iterator#rain world oc#iterator oc#oc four blue flames#drawins#suggestive
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infizero · 11 months
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also his drawings. make me insane. im pretty sure ive made a post about this before a while ago but i just love looking at his silly little drawings it adds so much to his character. even after everything he's been through he's still got some humor and lightheartedness in him. and he's really good at drawing too!! so it's likely something he's been doing since he was a kid
#will always believe in closeted art kid michael who became a bully so he wouldnt get bullied himself <- REAL TO ME!#anyways all his drawings are fun but i still cant get over the little hearts he scribbled in the margins of that one page#theyre just so simple and....... human. i dont know ToT#this guy is literally an undead purple zombie and he's doodling little hearts in a book#it just reminds you that michael IS a Real Guy. like canon fnaf kind of sucks ass when it comes to actually attaching any people or real#human emotion to the events of the games (very much focuses more on What Happened over actual character stuff)#(which is fine but not what i rlly look for in media usually lol.... which is why i love stuff like og fnaf vhs#which is much more character-driven)#but anyways. i think his comments and drawings in the logbook work wonders in making michael feel more real#and less like just unseen protagonist who we know about vaguely#thats why i cling so hard onto little things like his habit of chewing gum. or just him liking to draw in general#usually i dont like when fandoms make One Trait of a character super prominent/their whole personality#but with michael we know SO UNFATHOMABLY LITTLE about his character/personality that these little scraps of info are rlly all we have#in terms of his character beyond The Things That Happened To/Around Him#OH also. his love of that stupid fucking vampire show is SOOOO near and dear to my heart#another thing that makes him so painfully human. yes he is serious protagonist guy who goes thru the most unimaginable shit ever#but at the end of the day. he like many of us enjoys a stupid cartoon that he probably takes way too seriously for what it actually is#his comment about it in the logbook still makes me laugh THIS MF IS PROJECTING ONTO A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN HIS LITTLE SHOW#HE JUST LIKE ME FR#ANYWAYS holy fucking shit i did NOT mean to go on this long of a rant#i just fucking love michael afton so much im sorry#serena.txt
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dabidagoose · 11 months
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Oh. My god. He's a DRUID!!
#ok ok so. context for this#my cursed baby boy wugglies is a sorcerer very much not by will in my dnd game. and at some point pals and i considered AU where we're all#like living relatively happy suburban lives in an HOA. and the big question there for me is like. what the hell class would wugglies be#when he actually has a *choice*#and like. y'know we've played this game for a while now and I was still a pretty baby player at the beginning. so i didn't really#understand how the hell a cleric worked nevermind a druid#but. now that I'm Big. and i Know Things (thx dimension 20). I'm like. oh. he's a druid. DUH!#it's like. i think he has a connection to magic no matter what cause i think he *does* enjoy it. but also the sorcerer stuff is a little#too much premeditated destiny stuff for wugglies who likes to have choice over his life. he's not religious so cleric doesn't work and he's#not really someone i see as a wizard (although i feel like he would want to practice doing magic he wouldn't want to study or get into the#theory or anything). and he's very much not a bard vibe. so the question is what the hell is he#but like. if he were at his best self he WOULD be connected to nature. when he accidentally killed a horse in combat he cried and when he#thoughtlessly smashed a bug it was indicative of him losing his sense of self and a horrifying moment#wugglies would always be a magic user but it'd be because he's connected to the natural world and be using nature in that way#also like. my lion guy be transforming into animals anyways (polymorph beloved). it's just tight#right*#so happy to have made this realization#crowned#DND blorbo posts
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hecksupremechips · 2 months
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I love me some homoerotic torture 🥰
#the letter#the letter visual novel#i have not included the visuals for this scene cuz i just#i hate it ashton should not have those nasty anime boy abs they are DISGUSTING#the scene was so hot and then they did that to him what the fuck why would you offend me like this#alsjks but yeah no i just love the fucked up dynamic between johannes and luke so much#and damn we kinda were robbed of a johannes chapter hes like way too good to just be a side character#but idk what would be in his chapter or how itd possibly fit cuz my assumption is itd be like the marianne chapter#where its like the perspective of someone whos simply on the side working for the wrights who gets involved by association#and as much as i am obsessed with marianne like it does kinda show that her chapter wasnt part of the original version of this game#so i think johannes would be in the same boat and i do wonder if he was considered against marianne and they went with the latter#i definitely get it but still i do wish we were given just a wee bit more information about him#like he and luke dont really like each other at all but theyre glued at the hip#they cannot function without each other and its clear that luke essentially owns johannes and he cant escape this dynamic#unless he wants to have his life utterly ruined#so you can definitely see their relationship and think johannes is just this obedient servant who does as hes told even when its fucked up#but then this scene happens and its clear hes enjoying himself he loves torturing pretty boys who can blame him#HES NOT A BAD GUY HE JUST LOVES TO DO SOME FILTHY SINFUL THINGS#but unlike luke hes actually like a nice guy like he has an iconic solidarity with marianne hes sweet with kylie#he shows favoritism towards hannah and tries to warn her about luke trying to kill her and encourages her to leave him#and hes said to have a husband and kids so like hes got a loving family at home that he probably never gets to see#idk its just really interesting seeing him flip flop and you have no clue what his motives are or what he truly thinks#does he assist luke in murder because luke holds his life in his hands and they have a deal#or does he do it because he has a thirst for blood? or maybe it started as the former and devolved into the latter#aaghhhh its just very frustrating i am feasting on crumbs here i need more of my man i fucking LOVE this guy so much#if he wants to do torture i think he should get to cuz working with luke wright and being his fucking babysitter is ass
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nkogneatho · 3 months
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"𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊"
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𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊
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—cw: lactation kink, mentions of pregnancy, dirty, nasty, depraved stuff, vaginal sex, period oral mention, monsterfucking in kuna's (sukuna's is way too dirty), dry humping, drinking breast milk obv, not proofread (this is too long and i have an event tomorrow)
—a/n: i have officially lost it. is it obvious i have lost it? idk if this is the best or the worst thing you will ever read but this is very depraved and nasty. like...aaaaaaaaaahh okay i am normal. i put my big titties non existent breast milk into this so please read it all and i hope you enjoy.
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
— satoru is the man who is always up for something new. especially, if it involves pleasing you because he's a good husband and that's good what husbands do. he knows how to pull out the naughty parts out of you, but he had to work his way up.
"I am just saying. It helps. Believe me," your husband was arguing with you.
"Cut it out, Toru. I am not letting you suck my boobs."
"But why?"
"Because it's gross and weird." The moment those words left your mouth, he audibly gasped.
"Did you just call our baby's food gross?" You rolled your eyes. He's always like this. It's not like you weren't curious of his reaction when he does taste you, you were just scared that he'd be disgusted. Plus the post pregnancy hormones are worst as they make you emotional over the silliest things.
"Please, baby? Just this one time. I'll be a good boy I promise." You hate when he addresses himself as if he's an angel. He is a mischievous devil inside. But rather than having him pester you for the rest of the night and ruin your hard earned sleep (since your baby's cries always wakes you up) You thought maybe let him and just get it over with...
"mmph ffhuck." His moans vibrated through your skin, "mhmm god ywo twaste shwo good." The moment he said that, all the insecurity left your body, and heat forming between your legs.
"Ngh—toru..." you felt so embarrassed—so dirty when his eyes locked with you. Your lashes fluttered and you looked away but you swore you could feel him smiling on your nipples. Your husband really digs out the emotions you never thought existed within you.
He was pressing them together, playing like he had just found a new toy. You had never seen so much amusement in those blue eyes as much as of now. Bright pink tongue lolling out to taste the squirting liquid when he squeezed both your breasts together.
"Feels good, right baby? ah!" *slurp* He wiped the dripping milk at the end of his lips with his tongue, and you couldn't process. You felt so wet. And he knew you very well. After all, you've been together for so many years.
"Lay down baby. I'll fuck you while I drink you." You never thought you'd ever hear that sentence but there it was.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
— toji has always been an experienced man. he has definitely tried a lot of things. but there's always areas to expand knowledge and new things to learn. he wouldn't do anything that makes you uncomfortable but he knew the person he was marrying wasn't ordinary. you, deep down, were just very dirty like him.
You had your legs stretched on the sofa, upper body resting on your husband's lap. Since you guys had a baby, it was very rare for you rest. Being a parent is the best thing in the world but it also feels worse than a 9to5 sometimes. Today was a good day though. Your boy was sleeping soundly and you had some quality time to spend with each other. Well, it's hard to go on a date at this time, but you both were just happy to be in each other's presence.
Toji was mindlessly flipping through some channels after he got bored halfway through that one movie he was watching. His emerald eyes fell on your ipad screen where you were scrolling through what seemed like a baby product websites.
"I thought we had bought everything for little gumi." You looked up at him then back to the screen.
"Oh this isn't for gumi bear. This is for me. These are called breast shells."
"What? Show me." He took the ipad from you and carefully observed the product you were supposedly buying. "So what is this a fashion accessory for mommies now?"
"Hehehe," you giggled. "No, baby. My breast oversupplies sometimes and it ruins my dress. They prevent that." You watched him as he sat there in silence, poking his tongue inside his mouth. Within two seconds, he flipped you on the sofa, and gently climbed on you.
"Why are you buying that shitty thing when I am right here?"
"Toji, what do y—OH MY GOD!" he pulled out both your breast pretty quickly, all thanks to your maternity clothes. He knew you won't stop him. He knew you would get wet when he'd do that. And he was right on the money. He started sucking so hard, you felt...foreign. He had sucked them a hundred times before but watching him flick your nipples with his tongue and the milk trailing down, fusing with the tastebuds until it goes transparent and his adam's apple bobs when he gulps it. fuck.
Toji's obvious boner grinds against your heat as he suckled on those pretty tits. The wet patch on your panties were now staining his grey bottoms too.
"Overflowing down there too, mama? Hmph," he chuckled. You were to focused on the feeling of his lips on your nipples that you forgot to see his right hand moving down to cup your heat.
"Ngh—twoji," you mewled.
"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you." Thick fingers circled your wet clit, "Ya don't need those shells or whateva when i am right here." He is a great husband. He even saved you so much money that you were gonna spend on those silicones.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
—suguru worships you. it isn't obvious but you can feel his devotion towards you. the way his droopy eyes lights up when they fall on you, or his ears turn red when you kiss him. he loves how you take him in, struggling a little at first because he is girthy and a bit long, but when he bottoms out, you finally exhale and relax your walls around him. holy shit. he loves it. but this time, something different struck his curiosity.
"fuck. you sure we can do this baby?" He asked.
"'s okay, sugu. doc said we had to wait like six weeks and it's been three months." You were so busy in your post pregnancy life that you barely got time for just each other. You hadn't even kissed properly in months. "plus," you reached for his cock, "i need you." Those last words came off as a whine. You needed him and who is he to deny you off your pleasure.
You were on top of him as you positioned his boner to your entrance. He watched as your cunt swallowed him. This time, not struggling as much. Thanks to dilation.
"anh! suguuu~ mhmm missed your cock." You moaned so beautifully, he found himself falling in love over and over again. Yet, something was different. Normally, his eyes would focus down on how you well you take him as you ride it, but today he had found something rather more interesting. Your big tits bumped against his face and he couldn't take his eyes of those nipples. Those glistening nipples. He could see droplets of milk settling and honestly, they looked so fucking tempting. He let his intrusive thoughts win as you felt a warm sensation on your boobs.
"haaa—fuck. sugu, mhmm—no, it's gross" He didn't reply. He didn't need to. Pretending he didn't hear that was just right. Why would you even think anything about you is gross. He would kiss the soil you walked on.
"so fucking sweet. my sweet girl." *sucksucksuck* "these are f'me too, right? these were made f'me. hmm...sweet *suck* fucking *suck* girl.
congratulations. you just unlocked his new kink.
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
—nanami is a gentke lover. we all know that. he is only mean in bed if you ask him too. that alone needs a lot of convincing because he is scared of hurting you. he is not too kinky but you can't say he's completely vanilla. he enjoys wrapping a tie around wrist as be eats you out. he also found himself getting hard when you called him "daddy." So yeah, he is a little kinky. But not in a million years Nanami Kento would've thought he would get hard watching you wipe the excess milk off your breasts.
"So i just put her down to sleep," you walked out of the baby room, with your left tit out, wiping it with a napkin. "What do you want for lunch—Kento?" He immediately broke the staring contest he was having with your boobs and looked at you.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Is everything alright? Is there something on my breasts?"
"Yes—I mean no. of course not." It was rare to hear panic in his voice which only made you mroe curious. You walked closer to him, hsi breath heavier than usual.
"What's wrong, Ken? Talk to me." shit shit shit. you were too close. he could feel your wet boobs rubbing against his cyan blue shirt. If you got any closer, you would loathe him for having a boner for such thing. He was ashamed of himself.
"Why are you looking away, baby? Do you not like me anymore?" Fuck. You're so stupid. Not like you? That man is in love with you so much. He cannot contain himself. You tried to get closer but he tripped on the foot of the couch and felk on it upright, and you on top of him.
oh.
OH.
You could feel it between your legs. You didn't even kiss him and it's not like you were seducing him earlier so you connected the dots pretty quickly on why he was hard.
"hmm hmm" you giggled. "is this what makes you hard you, ken? my lactating tits?"
"don't say it out loud, please." it was so fun seeing him all flustered. you adjusted yourself on top him as you thought of something very dirty.
"wanna taste? i know you're curious." he hesitated a bit, but a man like him can only go so high with his walls before he breaks them and let's his wife take control.
He started off with a few licks, testing his feet into the water. It was sweet with a hint of tanginess. The moment he felt it squirting a lot when he sucked, he fell in love. He acted like a kid who had just discovered magic. You chuckled between your heavy moans as you witnessed him trying to fit in your tits in his mouth as much as he can. You start grinding on him and it only makes him more desperate. He taps your thighs, a cue to pull your dress up and throw it in the floor. You watch as he hungrily latches his lips on your nipples quickly again. Your dress was not even off your arms yet. Nanami had discovered his obsession when he watched you squeeze you tits to squirt your milk on him.
𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
—sukuna didn't even think it was possible for him to have a child as him being a curse and you being a human but here you were. he was in love with you. maybe his expression for love was different than others, but you felt it. be wasn't an embodiment of rage, but rather an overflowing confidence in his skills. That's where the cockiness came from. Existing for over a 1000 years, he thought he had experienced everything. Well...he was wrong.
"So...you just out this device on your chest and it gathers your milk?"
"Yes. It's called a "breast pump" and not a device," his vocabulary according to the new era was still weak but he was working on it.
When you detached the the vaccum of the breast pump from your boobs, Sukuna's eyes were fixated on them. He loved your tits. He had his fair share of biting and sucking on them till they were sore, but today they looked so plumped and so...succulent??
"What are you staring at? You want to drink it too or what?" You joked as you closed the lid of the bottle.
"Yes." You stared at him. Two minutes of complete shock snd silence.
"What?"
"What? You said if I want to drink it, and I answered."
"Yeah but—"
"Be a good wife, my little human. Good wives obey their husband's wishes." (Please let the feminist in you shut up for a sec and enjoy cuz i know he'd say smtg like this)
"Kuna...I don't know. It's nasty, y'know?"
"I think you're forgetting that I am a monster, baby. I ate you out during your those days of the month. This is less dirty." He yaps a lot someone shit him up before I die from embarrassment.
Sukuna laid you on the bed gently after getting you undressed. For the first time in so.many years, you were feeling shy again in front of him. It was quite an amusing sight to enjoy for him. He summoned a mouth on both his palm and licked your nipples. He wasn't sucking yet, but the hint of sweetness still laced his tastebuds.
"I am going to squeeze your breasts in my mouth now, okay?" Why did he feel the need to announce it? Weren't you already so flustered?
The tongues on his palm licked the skin of your tits before squeezing it when his mouth crashed against your nipples, spraying the milk. Sukuna sometimes forget you're a human. You're delicate unlike. The strong force of the suction made you whine and moan so loudly, it vibrated through the walls of the bedroom.
"mhmm I did not know my beloved wife enjoyed such depraved acts," he smirked when his thighs brushed against your bare pussy. you were dripping wet.
"Don't worry, little one. Let me please you. Hope you have pumped out enough in that bottle of yours. Because, I am going to milk you dry today."
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luvmila444 · 3 months
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SWEET RELIEF - C.S
…………………………………………….. ☆ ★ ………………………………………………
Chris sturniolo x fmreader
summary: Chris can’t help but get a bit worked up while on a tutoring study call with you, when you realise what he’s doing, you only pushing him further to the edge.
content warning: male masturbtion; dirty thoughts; praise kink
word count: 2.8k
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Chris was a little embarrassed with how fast he had picked up the phone call from you, not to mention the blush that had spread across his cheeks and his quickly paced heartbeat when he heard your sweet voice ring through the speakers. 
“Hey, Chris!” You smiled as you spread your small pile of assessments and study papers across your desk to get yourself prepared. This had been a regular thing on Wednesdays and Saturdays for the past two months. You guys would set up a phone call together as you would help him study as Chris was falling behind in class…a lot. You guys had to do it over the phone as both houses were always so busy due to Chris’s brothers and your family always occupying your living spaces, making it difficult to have privacy and quiet to help him focus and bring his grades up. Therefore, you resulted in two easy phone calls across the week, which Chris always enjoyed a little too much. 
Chris loved that you could never see him and what he was doing at the sound of your voice over the phone. The sweet ring of it through the speakers. The way you ramble so passionately about the work. Yeah… he definitely liked having the privacy of his room for these calls more then he’d like to admit. Although he can never help but imagine what you looked like, what you were doing. Fuck… he’s been on the call for no more than ten second and he’s already getting himself worked up. 
“Chris…?” He heard you voice agin. Fuck that voice. 
“Yeah... I’m here, hey y/n.” He couldn’t help the smile that rose onto his lips hearing hear giggle at his slow usual response. 
“Okay well glad you're here,” you say readying the paper you had recently got giving by your teacher, on to the top of the pill of books you had been working on, “why don’t you fine the paper that mr Hudson gave us today and we will work through that one today, yeah?” You say cutely but trying not to talk so fast so Chris could take in the information. 
“Yeah, yeah sure…” he buries his way through his overflowing piles of unfinished homework to find the paper that was given to him today by his teacher “why did he give us the paper today, anyway?” Chris huffs, flipping to the first page that you wanted to start working on. 
“I have no idea, it’s not like we don’t already get enough work given to us on Mondays and Fridays, but now on Wednesdays too? It’s getting a bit intense at this point!”
Chris hums in agreement, loving the way you get worked up about things. However, once you were done with your small rant, you let out a sign that was so quiet only the most observant person would notice it, lucky for you, Chris was that person. As you made the noise Chris felt a familiar warm feeling in his lower stomach, just imagining you making that noise in a very different scenario…
“Did you see jenny today?” You interrupted his quickly drifting dirty thought, referring to girl who passes every class, not using her smarts but her body instead, fucking her way to good grades. 
“No, why? What was she doing this time?” Chris asked slowly, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and suppress his dirty thought of you. 
“Woah I’m surprised you didn’t see her! She was practically pushing her tits out of her very tiny top to try and get out of this paper…. practically had all the guys drooling,” you huffed. You’d always been quite jealous of Jennifer. She could literally get any guy she wanted and could always get out of these stupid papers. It was irritating to people like you who tried their very hardest in their schoolwork and seem to go zero appreciation for it, when all jenny does is gossip, do her obnoxiously babyish laugh and pop a tit, therefore having the whole classroom wrapped around her finger. It was pathetic.
“Nah, guess i don’t really care that much about her,” Chris was very aware of Jenny’s usual inappropriate behaviour, yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you all through that class. He was sat near the back of the class, so he had a good view of his surroundings and could easily see you sat a few rows in-front of him, at the perfect angle so her couple see you left side perfectly. Chris simply couldn’t understand how anyone could pay attention in that class knowing that you were in there, not jenny but you. 
Your short denim mini shirt that accentuated you ass and hips so perfectly and highlighting your legs. However, to keep yourself warmer and seem more modest, you through a knitted sweater over the top, making Chris’s eager to rip it off and see what you hid beneath the layers of warm wear. God, if there was nobody else in that classroom, he would not hesitate you lift you up on the desk and kiss up your legs to your perfect thighs and up your body. He would make sure to take perfect care of you, bring his lips underneath your sweater and bring his hand to you perfectly round and covered tits. 
Full, he could barely take it anymore. He could feel his harder member quickly growing underneath his get sweats, but he didn’t want to stop. No… he couldn’t stop himself.
“Huh, thats surprising, i could’ve sworn that the guys next to me literally had dribble on his chin, it was crazy.” You laughed. 
Fuck that laugh. Chris brought his hand up to his crotch and felt where he had grown harder just thinking of you. He began to palm himself, trying to relieve the growing soreness between his legs. 
"We should get started now." You unintentionally break his train of thought, as he gulps, silently cursing at himself. "Because I you barely understood what was going on it that class."
"Uh, yeah." Chris coughed, forcing himself to focus. "What did you want to start with?" 
You voice begins to drift into an explanation of what was said at the beginning of the class, only worded in a simpler way, yet Chris could barely take in any of this information. You speak so innocently, brows furrowed, as Chris furrows his own for an entirely different reason. 
He continues to palm his dick through his pants while your voice was sending small electric jolts through him. All the way down to his dick, which has begun to strain painfully against his pants beneath his hand. Christ, i can’t actually be doing this right now-he thinks to himself. He licked his lips, quickly responding to what you were saying with a hum and an "ah, that makes makes more sense." 
Chris doesn't mean to drown out your words. Because he's listening. But more so to the hilt of your voice, and how it would sound much breathier, as you gazed up at him. One of his fantasies had you on your knees, teasingly licking at his cock, as your devious eyes held his. He had orgasmed extremely quickly, multiple times, when he found this imagine in his head. 
“So thats basically the first part,” you continued to explain, unaware and completely oblivious to Chris’s hand rubbing at himself on the other end of the line.  
He won’t do more. He can’t, this is just so wrong of him Just…relieve a hint of tension. You continued to speak, and your words began to sound like something he wished he could grab, as his hand tightened on his bulge, his rubbing growing messy. His breathing had grown heavier, but he covered it up by saying ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, answering your questions. 
“Sorry, I’m rambling. Did you have any questions?” You ask, feeling as if Chris wasn’t getting everything he needed out of your words. He had to spare a glance at his incomplete work, scanning to see if he’d written down any problems, trying to remember if he had any. Because the only problem he could think of right now is how his over-the-clothes rubbing was doing little to satisfy his need. 
His cock was now rock hard, it was torturous. His mind began to glaze over with lustful thought of you “I—I don’t think so.” He mutters out, his fingers reaching into the waistband of his sweats and briefs, pulling his cock, which was now leaking with drops of pre-cum and the tip was a bright rosy, red, much like his cheeks.
He imagined the way you would touch him. Would you be gentle and slow, or would you edge him and make sure he’s extremely overstimulated as you milk him dry. Chris’s breathing stutters as he strokes himself. The little hums you make when you think have begun to make his hips thrust up into his palm. His other hand had tightened around the sheet, praying that you can’t hear him jerking off to you. Chris becomes lost in your tone as his cock twitches. 
“Chris?” You slowly ask, making his hips jolt at the utterance of his name from your lips, but he tries to keep his voice of some composure. 
“Yeah?” He had to press his lips together after a needy whimper nearly falling. 
“Are you…okay?” 
Your question makes him halt, much to his cock’s dismay. “W-what?”
“You sound… i don’t know, out of breath?” You say, behind the line trying to think of why.
“Really, you think?” He hums with a small smirk on his face enjoying the uncertainty in your tone and how innocent you mind must have been.  You nod to yourself, but then you catch the smallest of sounds fall straight from Chris’s lips. You had to be mistaken, as it had almost sounded like one full of pleasure that could have only been as a result of one thing... 
Your mouth opened in shock as you realise. He’s out of breath because he’s…
“Chris.” You say again, hearing a stuttering whimper from him before he tries to cover it up by asking ‘yes?’ again.  
“What are you doing?” 
Chris curses himself because you sound suspicious. “I’m studying obviously. Being tutored s-so well... by you.” He says, really forcing down his cock’s wanting to just ask you to keep talking so he could reach his orgasm, attempting to stop himself from stuttering his words, but he just couldn’t help it. 
“You’re sure you’re good?” You asked unconvinced, as a small smirk rose to your lips.
“No. No, I’m all good, i swear.” He says, really forcing his words to sound normal, as he had slowly begun to stroke himself again, his cock angry. 
“Ah huh, yeah…okay,” you knew what you were going to do, this was going to be fun. “Did i tell you how good you looked today?”
Chris’s eyes opened, looking at his phone slightly trying to keep a steady pace of his raging cock but if you were going down this road of compliments, he probably wouldn’t be able to take it much longer.
“Uh, n-no,” he stutters pathetically, somehow unaware of the game you were playing. 
“Well, you did, your hair…wow. I could just run my hands through it! How do you always get it looking so soft?” You paused momentarily, hearing Chris’s surprised whimper. “Sorry thats kind of a goofy thing to say…sorry.” You were basically just teasing him now, the basic matters of the studying gone.
“I- no i don’t think its goofy. a-at all…” his words are broken up by that heaving panting.
“God. really? You’re so sweet chris…wow,” You hum, making Chris’s hips thrust up into his hand, his legs having widened as you spoke. 
“R-really?” His eyelids began to feel heavy again, wanted nothing more but to see the darkness and use it as a canvas to paint his dirty images of you in his mind. 
“Yeah, i mean you’re the literal sweetest” you hum lightly, “you always make sure i havea seat in class, you listen to me when i speak and when i help you i study, you defend me in-front of your friends! You’re so sweet! Such a sweet, good boy for me” you were practically grinning at this point.
Chris could have sworn that your words could have sent him spiralling over the edge.“I a-am?” He asked, almost to clarify that this was real, that you were actually saying this to him.
“Well of course, and you’re always so busy as well, yet you always make time for me in your busy schedule. You must be stressed a lot of the time. I could always help you…relax sometime, relieve some of your…tension.” You had lowered your voice now in order to have a more seductive tone to your voice now.
Chris chokes on a whimper as he places his hand over his mouth, still thinking you don’t know. “My tension…?”
“I mean, yeah… i could alway give you a massage, rub you down, you know I’ve been told I am very good at giving…massages.” It was becoming blatantly obvious what you were doing now but Chris must’ve been blinded and in a lustful haze because he still seemed to be completely oblivious to what you were doing. Continuously pumping his dick eagerly and chasing his release.
The thought of you sat on top of him, rubbing all down him in order to relax him was definitely doing the opposite effect and only working him up more. Fuck. He had almost come from the thought of you taking care of him. the tone you had dropped to makes his hand quicken as his hips had begun to grind into his palm.
“You’d do that for me?” Chris whined, only imaging what else you would do for him almost sent him over the edge.
“Of course, i would baby, you would tell me where it feels good before i drag my hands down your body…” Chris let out a pathetic whimper at not only the simple thought but at the nickname as well. Baby? Baby??! Oh, my lord he was going absolutely feral at this point, “however, through your clothes it mind be hard to properly get that tension out.” 
Chris moans through his teeth, as his hips pathetically thrust at your words. “No clothes?” 
“No clothes.” You confirm. “Would that be, okay? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable— “
“Yes.” His answer was immediate, cutting you short. He coughs. “That would be fine.” 
You grin. “Good. Because that way I could really relieve some tension. I’d have to straddle you of course.” You pause to hear chris’s heavy breathing and the faint sound of his hand gliding along his cock. “You may even have to flip around, because I’ve heard that the most tension can be by your collarbones and neck.” 
Chris nearly orgasmed at the thought of you straddling him, as your hands wandered his body. “As in straddling..my front?” 
“Yeah, is that okay?” 
“Uh huh.” He hums, his cock twitching with a soon need to release. 
“I could give you that massage the next time we study.” You say, making chris’s breathing quicken at the possible reality of all that. “I could come over to yours.” 
At this point he couldn’t care how desperate he sounded. “Yes. Please, come anytime.” 
“Or maybe you should cum?” You ask, your innuendo strong, as pleasure began to rock through chris’s body. 
“W—what?” 
“Come to my place, i know yours is always super hectic.” You play it off, listening to the wet sounds his cock was making as you could hear how close he was to his orgasm. 
“Fuck…yeah that sounds good, i-if you’re happy then s-so am i…” he was no biting his own lip so hard he could’ve sworn he was drawing some blood. He now had his back so far arched up off of his bed and was practically fucking up into his own hand. 
“See, again, you are alway thinking…of me,” oh he was definitely thinking of you, thats for sure, “you are such a good boy.” And that did it. His orgasm wracked through him as quiet whimpers and moans left his lips his hips grinding into nothing. Wishing the air was you. He watched as the white strings of cum coated and stained his dark shirt. 
“Fuck” he let out a relieved groan, now not even hiding the action that he had just did. 
“Maybe next time we study i should just jerk you off instead,”
Chris’s eyes widened at what you had said, before realising how blatantly obvious what he was doing was. You giggled once again hearing Chris’s heavy breathes, pleased to know that it was you who had pushed him over the edge. 
“Fuck, you can do whatever you want to me,” Chris let out with a deep breathe. 
Oh, you certainly would…
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A/n : thank you so much for reading, this is literally my 3rd time trying to post this because I keep making mistakes 😭😭I really hope you enjoy and if there are any more mistakes pls lmk
ily my angels 💞 (especially @gamermattsgf)
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reveluving · 5 months
Note
Ok, so Soap and shy wife. We all know he's the definition of sunshine/happy puppy and has the energy of an entire class of kindengarden. Imagine when they first meet the couple and he's all loud and jolly, and wife quietly shakes their hand and says "Nice to meet you" and he INSTANTLY quiets, because he's proud of his Darling to meet his friends/family, also because they're all wondering how she puts up with him🤣❤
LOSING MY MIND AT "they're all wondering how she puts up with him" BECAUSE THAT IS BASICALLY THEIR DYNAMIC 🤧💗💗
Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!
COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌
Come & check out my COD m.list!
You just know this man does not shut up about you every time he meets up with his team for work. 
And then, one day, he surprises them with a “she’d love y’all to come over one day.”
“Didn’t you say she’s a lil’ shy?” Kyle voiced out everyone’s thoughts, so to be offered not by the man himself but the meek lady in question was a little surprising, to say the least.
“She is, yeah, but she’s open t’meeting a few pals o’mine.” Johnny meant it to sound casual, but with his mates knowing him for a long time, it wasn’t hard to catch the hint of care in his voice.
And, well, it would be rude to decline a lady’s generous offer, now, would it?
Johnny’s hyped, no doubt, his friends—no, brothers, and his other half finally meeting in person. They didn’t even have to ask, just by the way he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel or the way he hummed to the radio, likely a playlist the two of you shared.
And with the boys holding some sort of gift for you, just as a thank you for the invite, you greet them by the door as soon as your husband announces his and his friends’ arrival. 
With Simon physically being the closest to you, you wiped your hands on your apron before holding your hand out. Simon nearly struggled with his strength, not expecting your lack of hesitation to greet him, out of all of them.
You introduced yourself, “It’s nice to finally meet you guys.”
Ah, such a sweet voice. So sweet that had Johnny not gone on and on about your shyness, they would’ve thought you were scared of them. But, you weren’t and the proud smile on Johnny’s face says it all. 
Why wouldn’t he? With your warm smile and even willingness to shake Kyle and John’s hands as well. Albeit, you had a habit of looking down every once in a while, especially if they tried to show their respect, i.e. complimenting your cooking, the decor or you in general, it was hard not to find you endearing.
But God knows how you, of all people, manage to put up with his nonsense. 
In the words of Johnny; “Opposites attract, after all.”
And seeing it now, to say Johnny was whipped…. Was putting it lightly.
It’s funny to see Johnny trying his best when it comes to lowering his gruff voice for you, even if you loved it just the way it is.
Though he has a lot of things to tell you, so much love to give you, you have his full attention the moment your lips part.
Each time you open your mouth, he closes his. As if fearing that one word from him would mean talking over you entirely, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that. The hearts in his eyes were tough to miss. He’s expressive, too, hanging on your every word like you were giving him a task when it was just you talking about how you learnt to make the lasagna you served for dinner.
‘SHUT UP, MY BABY HAS SOMETHING TO SAY’ type of beat, but it’s the man who’s saying it that has the loudest voice (and the gentlest heart).
But they’d be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy listening to the stories of how you met and how emo Johnny gets when the dates or outings don’t go his way, even though it all went well in the end.
Why wouldn’t they enjoy seeing his soul leave his body when you mentioned his baby pictures that his mother not only showed you but gave some to you as well?
“Johnny, c’mon, now, she’s a part of the family! She’ll need some photos o’you for when you move in together soon.” Says his mother, gifting you probably a stack of them, as if unfazed by the sight of you and Johnny covering your faces, the temperature of your body heat rising that even you feared you might pass out right then and there. He couldn’t even find the energy to stop his sisters from teasing him.
But besides allowing you to embarrass him a little, even if it wasn’t your intention, your home is another.
A small unit, located on the second floor. The candlelight colour, the cute indoor plants in each room, and the seats. 
Oh, the seats.
John nearly passed out just moments after he sat on it. 
Just by the way you maximized the apartment space, it’s no wonder Johnny always looked forward to returning home. Not necessarily the apartment, but to you. 
Dare they say, the visit felt like a ‘cultural reset’ (is that what the kids are saying these days?). Largely because one; they were able to finally confirm that Mrs MacTavish is a real person and two; one cannot simply ignore the dynamic you and Johnny have. It may be eye-roll-worthy to some, but Johnny learns it isn’t something worth fighting about. So long he has you, those people can yap and nag about it all they want. 
Bonus: John’s definitely the type of person to tell Laswell about it like it was some kind of a mission—like it was almost unbelievable to see you, well, you!
“M’tellin’ ya, Laswell. As soon as his wife had something t’say, he shuts up faster than when I tell him to.” He chuckled before taking a sip of his drink.
“Sounds like a keeper to me.”
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