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jiminjamms · 1 year ago

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sex therapy :: 21. daddy toji

chapter tags/warnings: **can be read as a stand-alone!** daddy toji, in every sense of the word. toji also calls himself daddy. unprotected sex. creampies. megumi is down the hall! masturbation. exhibitionism. toji likes that it’s his cousin’s wife that he’s fucking. infidelity/adultery. possessiveness. sexual frustration. degradation. praising. pet names (‘princess’ and ‘sweetheart’). manipulative undertones. family drama. strong language.

word count: 3.6k

notes: tattooed dr. fushiguro can only be a gentleman for so long when it's his little cousin's wifey around. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

“Why don’t you give daddy a show?”

Nothing could make you feel more exposed than this very moment on Toji Fushiguro’s bathroom counter—your bosom heaving from irregular breaths, your arms holding up your body, and your legs spreading across the granite surface so that you could offer up a good view. So that you could put your naked self on display.

Just for him. Just for your sex therapist.

Just for Dr. Fushiguro.

You gulped while pressing your back against the cold ceramic walls, hoping for some relief from your impending humiliation. “E-Excuse me?”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Toji crooned, and the pet name had your heart skipping a beat. Lazily, he dragged a lone finger from your stomach to your center, prodding right at your soaking entrance despite your efforts to shrink away. “Don’t be shy. I’m just your therapist. Let me see what you’ve learned.”

With much endearment, he watched you writhe. Being in the spotlight scared you, but he knew you would hate to disappoint.

At the very least, you should demonstrate some appreciation.

“Like what?” you asked, voice barely above a squeak.

“Well,” and amusement riddled his grin, “show daddy what he had taught you, baby.”

And goodness did all this daddy talk really turn you on. Toji could see how your figure tensed at the words, how you clenched around nothing from sheer need. (Did you think he would not notice?)

“Please,” you sighed, poorly hiding how your breath hitched. “Please don’t call yourself that.”

“Call myself what?”

Obviously a rhetorical question, yet Toji loved the bafflement on your ditzy face nevertheless.

“You know…‘daddy,’” you murmured, uncomfortable to the point you were staring at the floor as you spoke. “Because as someone who loves my dad, and hearing this from someone who actually is a dad, I find the name…disturbing.”

Disturbing but also hot, and Toji could tell.

“Don’t lie, princess. You like when I call myself that,” he chuckled. Pinching at your waist, he chortled in that same giddy manner whenever he felt particularly amused. “So, who’s going to be daddy’s obedient little girl?”

He noticed that you were doing that thing again whenever you were a little nervous: pursing your lips into a quivering pout and twisting at the meaningless rings on your fourth digit. Too loyal for your own good. Maybe that was what Naoya really loved about you, enough to keep you as his cute little trophy wife.

Swallowing loudly, in the end, you responded, “Me.”

Using one uneven breath to center yourself, your hands steadily grazed over your hips and your thighs before your dear fingers rested above your clit. Nothing could beat the embarrassment from how you flinched at your own contact.

Here went nothing.

Timidly, you drew your middlemost fingers through your folds and circled the digits around your entrance. The opening was warm, sensitive, and utterly soaked. The slick that had slipped past those puffy lips allowed you to push one, and then two fingers inside as your back arched gently at the stimulation.

A dull pleasure started to thrum in your body especially as you brought your ample juices back in using slow, deliberate motions.

To much frustration, your dainty digits couldn’t quite stroke that special spot within you with much expertise. Why wasn’t Toji helping? You wanted him to help. But, if you didn’t think too hard, you could lose yourself in the sensuality of your ministrations and imagine Toji’s fingers curling inside you instead. His fingers were larger and thicker and longer, after all.

While Toji’s true emotions had always been as mystifying as the man himself, never had that troubled you more than now. Those steely green eyes had been staring at you for what felt like hours now.

Did he like what he saw? Did he want more?

The people pleaser within you was just looking for a reaction—any reaction—to validate the hard and honest work you were putting in.

“Good kitty,” he complimented suddenly, as though he had been reading you like an open book all along. He did not realize since when, but he had begun stroking his cock through his pants.

How could he not? You had been listening so well, and his free hand reached down to rub tight circles at your puffy clit.

“Toji!” you shrieked immediately, body caving in.

“Keep going, sweetheart,” he commanded, dipping his index and middle fingers in as well, his thumb still drawing tight movements at your precious button.

His fingers slid against yours, aided by the thick coat of arousal that lubricated the movements, and his dick twitched from excitement, a situation exacerbated when he relished in the way you angled your hips to accommodate all four fingers plunging into your sopping cunt.

“Don’t stop working on yourself.”

“I won’t,” you struggled to whimper.

“This is nice, isn’t it? When someone else is touching you, too.” His statement was softened by the same tone he liked to use when playing that ‘friendly neighborhood sex therapist’ role. “Your fingers are delicate, but they can’t reach all the places mine can, can they?”

“No, they can’t,” you breathed out in helpless agreement, shaking pathetically at the combined ministrations. “Everything feels better when you are the one finger fucking me.”

Toji hummed deeply in satisfaction. “I know, princess.”

He lowered his head to press his lips into your jaw, but the subtle softness in his searing kisses convinced you to tilt your head gently and bring your unoccupied hand up to run up his hard triceps and dig into the jet-black ink peeking from his sleeves.

In response, Toji sank his teeth into your skin every so often, eliciting your squeals.

Painful. Yes, this was painful.

But more than painful, the gush that flooded your veins was fucking phenomenal.

“What’s wrong?” Toji asked innocently, biting harder as your nails pressed visible crescent marks into his tattoos. “I only want to taste you,” and he soothed the sore spots by licking the assaulted areas, just to repeat the process on another target.

Pussy feeling empty but needy, you shifted on the countertop in order to grind desperately against your therapist’s clothed crotch.

“Please,” you mewled, now begging for Toji’s attention rather than cowering away. “Please fuck me.”

Funny.

Just an hour ago, you were bawling about your loser husband. Naoya Zenin this. Naoya Zenin that. Well, duh. Of course, his baby cousin was an asshole partner.

Now, here you were, pleading for Toji Fushiguro’s cock?

Toji rewarded your change of heart with a deep kiss pressed on your lips, a gesture that you passionately reciprocated. Even as he devoured your mouth like a starved man, your tongue fought like a maniac into his mouth, satisfied sighs slipping from your lips to his.

Only when there was an unexpected slam coming from Megumi’s door did you two pull away, faces only centimeters apart and connected by an almost translucent string of saliva.

Toji panted, watching your chest rise and fall from similarly irregular breathing.

If nothing else stopped him, he would be falling onto his knees right now from how dazed you appeared: face flushed, lips parted, and lids heavy.

But both he and you had one concern in mind right now.

Megumi.

Given the sound earlier, Toji awaited footsteps from the younger Fushiguro.

Was he grabbing a midnight snack from the kitchen downstairs? Was he planning to pace the halls to alleviate stress?

Or worse yet, was he heading to the bathroom?

If his son really did walk into this scene, discovering what his father was doing to his sweet and pretty guest several doors away, Toji would be speechless because the idea was purely mortifying.

Also a little sexy.

But anyway.

“I’m sure he just closed and locked his door for the evening,” Toji deduced when the boy’s footsteps never came.

Immediately, your shoulders slumped with ensuing relief.

“Thank goodness,” you sighed, still tense and high-strung. “We don’t want Megumi to hear us,” you pointed out, completely oblivious to how loud you had been when merely kissing. “Let’s wait for him to sleep first. I don’t want us to get caught.”

The way you cared this much was adorable.

“Why would we have to wait, though?” Toji pointed out, and his tongue swiped over his scar. “I can be quiet. But the real question is: can you be quiet?”

At first, you were stunned and silent.

But after a long while, you gulped and your neck bobbed noticeably. "Yeah. I…can be quiet, too.”

“Good girl," and at that, Toji flashed a quick and lascivious grin. “Then, why don’t we test that out?”

Not waiting for your reply, he grabbed the collar of his white shirt and dragged the top off his shoulders.

His movements were slow, just so he could catch your marveling reaction as he revealed his bare torso, but the fabric had been too fitting and tight for his body anyway.

As soon as he pulled his shirt over his head and off his body, your eyes locked on his body to admire his brawny and toned physique. But more stunningly was how Toji Fushiguro was a mural of tattoos, intricate artworks that had been carefully selected and embedded into his torso—stylized letters, entwined violets, and hyper-realistic scenery. What demanded the most attention, though, was a prominent phoenix that covered his right chest, emerging victorious from a plume of smoke and ashes, its feathers spanning into his shoulder and back.

Easily, you were enchanted. You didn't have a chance to view his tattoos before. But Toji himself had always been enchanting.

“Come closer,” the man commanded, tone low and gravelly. He dragged his waistband down until his hardened dick sprang free with great force. His cock was swollen and red and violently angry, precum beading at the tip after he had long neglected himself from his release. "I’ve missed you."

You shifted forward on the countertop.

“Then do anything to me.”

Just to test you, he experimented a little, pinching your nipples with the knuckles of his fingers and smiling like a mad dog when you squeaked. "Anything?"

"Yes," you breathed out, nodding and back arching into his touch.

Obviously, you were too lost in arousal to comprehend the power placed into your tattooed therapist's hands, and Toji silently wished that Naoya Zenin could hear his wife begging for someone else like this.

He patted your cheek and cooed.

So silly, so cock drunk, so desperate.

That was what you were, and he wasn’t even inside you yet.

You reached between your legs to grab at his dick, lining the tip up to your entrance as Toji groaned from the contact.

"How are you so wet for me?” he hissed, gritting his teeth hard.

“Please, please, come on—” After a long bout of negligence, you had become incredibly whiny and desperate, seeking attention and affection like never before. “I’m too turned on. Just…please ruin me.”

Toji had been close to bursting already, but an intense flash stifled him when your words registered as music to his ears, his large hands helping you swipe his dick between your folds slowly. Teasing them both.

He had been well lubricated from the precum that slipped from the head, his massive cock so hard from the anticipation that awaited such that he could feel electricity buzzing at his fingertips. All because he couldn't handle himself when you begged for him like this. Yet, Toji resolved to fuck you with everything he had—for as long as he could, anyway—and slipped himself gradually into your warm and moist heat.

Shudders.

All that filled the room were shudders.

Toji’s eyes darkened as he pressed through the tight resistance, your muscles squeezing around his length. He had to will every fiber within him to not lose himself. He was this close to falling apart, unraveling. Because holy shit, were you fucking tight.

Beneath him, you suppressed a whimper.

“Damn,” you sputtered, abandoning any remaining hesitation and clenching around him. Compared to his pathetic cousin, your therapist was not small by any means. "You feel so good inside of me, Toji."

Ah, hell.

He needed to get you to relax. He could barely move and, if your walls squeezed him any harder, he might just be hurled over the edge and cum all over your thighs, staining your freshly showered body.

“Oh,” he managed to hum in contentment, closing his eyes momentarily so that he could shut down all other senses except for one. His arms wobbled a little, his hands digging hard into your sides as his hips moved slowly—very, very slowly—out before going back in again.

At the languid thrusts, your head fell back and your hips lifted upon instinct, one hand pressed against the counter for stability as the other skimmed over his tattoos. He's so hot. You're so hot. He makes you feel so hot.

Toji growled again when your fingers brushed against the inked phoenix's wings, gliding over his pectoral muscle. He loved being touched like this and only wanted you to examine him more, rewarding you with movements wholly deep and stimulating.

As moans flowed freely from your mouth, Toji would tell you to shut up. After all, Megumi dwelled only a few doors away and must not be forgotten. But how could Toji bring himself to hush the sweet sounds that you sang?

“Yes, just like that,” you whined at some point, fingers clawing into his chest. “Fuck. Fuck, Toji.”

He raised a disapproving brow. “Just Toji?”

“Fuck, daddy.”

And Toji lost his fucking mind.

Since when did you talk like this? Pretty princess with a potty mouth. Who would’ve thought? It was sexy. So goddamn sexy.

"You’re incredible,” he found himself saying.

Toji had never been harder than he was at this moment, his cock like a fucking titanium rod as his listless movements degraded into an onslaught, throbbing and twitching as he replayed your dirty words in his head.

He felt extraordinarily horny, aroused, and invigorated.

Meanwhile, you looked like a fucking fairy—his fucking fairy, to be clear: features glowing golden under the ambient lights, pupils dilated and blown out wide, skin glistening from both water and sweat.

Long ago, Toji figured that you had given up in your attempts to get away from him, the sole struggle from your body being how your walls involuntarily twitched and tensed amidst the storm of pleasure and pain he had brewing within your core.

If only Toji had more hands. That way, he could simultaneously pull at your hair, wrap his fingers around your neck, and swat at your bouncing tits.

In a moment like this, he hated having to choose and grabbed your legs in the end, moving them from the counter to his shoulders. Toji could now go even deeper, and boy, did this new angle  have you seeing stars.

“Oh, goodness,” you blubbered, coughing and drooling and panting. “Oh, that feels so good.”

“I know,” Toji said arrogantly.

Lucky for you, he was a mature man who could hold his load. Other boys didn’t know shit. If they were in his current position, they would have busted their nuts long ago, too impulsive and easily excited to exert much self-control.

Toji, on the other hand, knew how to dig his fat cock into your cervix over and over, brushing that one special spot within you along the way. To make you scream. To keep you addicted. To take his cousin’s wife at his mercy.

The room filled with sounds that resulted from skin contacting skin—squelches and wet smacks—and you were left loud and messy, feeling so good that you could not think straight. 

“Shit, you’re so good to me. Can’t get enough of this pussy,” he grunted, hand pulling back before connecting with the meat of your ass with one loud  slap.

You cried out, fighting back tears that welled from the pain. “That… hurts!”

“But my kitten loves being roughened up, no?” he taunted, licking at his scar again as he observed you: love bites littered over your neck, nipples perked into pebbles, skin marked and slightly bruised.

“I,” several huffs in between, “I can’t take this for much longer. I’m so close. I think I’m going to—”

“Only if you tell me who owns you.”

His words made you whine, and the therapist took great pleasure in the way you contorted. The demand had taken you by surprise because Toji had never denied you the right to your pleasure before. In fact, he had always been the type to coax you to cum, telling you to cream all over him instead.

Tonight, however, he wanted to set things straight. For a while, he had been thinking that he ought to buy you a collar just so you would remember who you actually belonged to—who really taught you what sex feels like—and heat tore through his skin again from the fantasy.

Admittedly, Toji was a tad bit possessive.

But he needed to drill into your head that you were not Sukuna’s or Choso’s or Geto’s.

And most certainly, not Naoya Zenin’s.

“Well?” He was fully aware of what was happening and taking true delight in your futile struggle, knowing exactly what you needed but wanting you to obey him first. Snaking an arm around your body, he pressed his lips to the shell of your ear and purred, “Who knows how to fuck you right?”

“Toji Fushiguro does,” you chanted, lacing your fingers with his, your body in sheer pain from need. “Guys my age could never.”

Which was exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Then cum for me, baby.”

So, you did.

His permission sent you vaulting over the edge, your whole body spasming as your orgasm ripped through.

Your lips parted. Your cheeks hollowed. Your arms wavered.

Despite everything, you continued begging for his cock harder, faster, just like that. At some point, the hand once tangled with your therapist’s now slotted into your mouth to muffle any exclamations of pleasure as the waves continued to ripple fiercely through your body. Throwing your head back against the wall, you could dully feel your teeth puncture the skin between your thumb and pointer finger. Yet, that didn’t bother you, didn’t even hurt, and only served to add to your masochistic satisfaction as your cunt fluttered and clenched around him.

“What a good girl.”

Toji was remorseless as he continued his abuse, the tendons of his hands and arms flexing from the effort needed to keep your lower body still, the tattoos on his wrists appearing pitch black under the glimmer of your juices. The wetness that spilled from you was so abundant, dripping down onto the floor. With any luck, once this was all over, you would have left a mess such that Toji would be forced to assign Megumi to bathroom cleaning duty in the morning.

"I'm gonna cum inside you, baby," was what he managed to say just as his gut suddenly tensed. He couldn't even control it. Without further warning, thick ropes of semen shot from him and into your womb. He grunted loudly, lurid fantasies dissipating as his mind went blank from his climax, his own groan hardly recognizable from how guttural his voice had become.

“Give me all your cum, daddy,” you wailed as you came again, pussy tightening impossibly on his cock and practically massaging every single drop out of him.

Toji was not done, he didn’t want to be done.

Despite his blurred vision and terse jaw, Toji wanted to give you every ounce that he was worth. He gritted his teeth as he fucked up into you, pace irregular and sloppy. He made sure to push every possible milliliter of his seed deep into your stomach, the rest of his load spilling against his balls.

His cock was far too sensitive and overstimulated, but he felt  so goddamn good that he wanted to keep going and going until he was completely spent with nothing more to give.

“Fuck,” he choked, on the brink of tears.

Toji had to take a moment to recover fully, keeping his eyes closed while his chest heaved from the sheer exertion of his orgasm. His breathing was deep, wet, and haggard, and he was blistering hot even without clothes on. His slicked-back hair was soaked with sweat and hung limply in front of his flushed face. As he slumped over, he sensed a new pain in his shoulder, and he guessed that he must have strained something without noticing. Cum inevitably dribbled from your hole as he pulled out, splattering on the floor and mixing with your juices earlier.

He strode toward the bathroom closet, grabbing additional towels.

After wrapping them around you and himself, Toji brought you close to his frame and directed you into his bedroom diagonally across the hall. The rest of the night was quiet, especially since you both were consumed by exhaustion and post-coital haze. You rolled onto his canopied bed without sound, Toji lying next to you and pulling you snugly against his chest. After ensuring that you were okay, he kissed the sweet temple by your forehead and the bruises on your collar, smiling softly when you hummed in response.

He could hardly recall the last time he had felt so warm and so content, wanting nothing more than to cling onto this moment for as long as he could. In the back of his head, his conscience scolded him harshly. He still owed you plenty of explanations. For how he had been hiding his family, his relationships, and his original motive in using you to help him get back at his enemies.

Yet, as he pushed aside these intrusive thoughts and murmured to you ‘Goodnight,’ one thing became clear:

Toji Fushiguro was far too selfish to let you go.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: This is my first time writing smut that comprehensively includes Toji’s POV. While we have always gotten Y/N's POV in sex, I wanted to include Toji's perspective so that we could get into his psyche a little since he's battling his own demons as well.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @hinativity @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @piqer @nobody289x @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @vvestwoodrose @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @obitohno @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @blackdragoncigarette @puffaloxx @shoisae @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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hellsslibrary · 1 year ago

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✧･ﾟ:*NSFW Alphabet with Riddle Rosehearts*:･ﾟ✧

DNI : minors.

!!Warnings : switch(mostly sub)!bottom!Riddle, kink for size difference, oral, praise kink, soft sex, teasing, roleplay(King and Queen of Hearts), pet play, male reader.

Trey <————«« Riddle »»————> Jack

Heartslabyul. Riddle Rosehearts.

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

He is very tired after sex, no matter what the pace was, no matter who dominated, no matter how many rounds and how intense the sex was. He is always tired. He also has a weak throat, I think, so he's always thirsty. So take care of the cute, red-haired boy, okay?

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Well... I guess his favorite body part in you is your eyes. He loves the way they shrink, looking down at him as he lies helpless underneath you, writhing in pleasure. He loves the way you close them when he pleases you. And he just loves your loving, sensual look when you talk about loving him.

His favorite body part in him is probably all parts of his body anyway. He's been very prepared for your first time by reading everything there is to know about two men having sex and... He's probably been doing some practice so somehow he loves everything about him and won't pick out anything about him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Considering his overly balanced and proper diet, his sperm is probably one of the most perfect. Like the truth, this is the most ordinary sperm, and it is released in a measured, normal amount, absolutely nothing unusual.

As for you, he'd rather you cum outside of him. He just doesn't want to give you the hassle of washing it out of him and himself too. Although he doesn't mind if you want to cum inside, yes.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Mmm, since the beginning of the relationship, he may have had the idea of role-playing the King and Queen of Hearts (Well, she's literally his prototype, so yeah). And, given that the king is much more loyal and kind (albeit still as infantile as his wifey), you would take a more submissive position, and he would, on the contrary, be more dominant and then you would violate one of the rules of the queen and on you would have hung a collar, though very unpleasant and heavy :( .Well, I leave everything else to your taste, imps~.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

He's... a total virgin. His mother is clearly "one partner for life", at least for her ideal son, so yes, he is definitely a virgin. Although his mother probably taught how to handle the female body and certain parts of it, apparently confident that her son would not be able to fall in love with a guy.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Mmm, doggy style? He doesn't really like it when you see his face, although he loves when you play with his body however you want, but in the end he definitely gives up and puts his head on the pillows, exposing half of his face to you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He is definitely serious. Although if you have the most ordinary relaxed, sensual sex where you just enjoy each other, then he can lower his walls a little and joke here and there, but not much.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Definitely very clean, the hair is just completely shaved off. Like really, how can Riddle of all people not be clean there? Although the color matches, the same strawberry red.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Of course very strongly! For him, sex is primarily a moment of your privacy, a moment where you can enjoy each other without unnecessary factors. He is incredibly romantic, even if sometimes he can be shy about it.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He hardly has time for that, anyway. But I guess he doesn't do it often anyway, he'd rather have sex with you than his hand or anything.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Kink for praise, obviously! I won't even explain it, it's just Riddle. I think pet play. Like why not? He will gladly put himself under your command, knowing that you do not want to harm him. Or he will take command. Depends on your tastes. And I have one thought that maybe he has a kink for tenderness(?). I don't know how to explain it better, but I think it's the caring and gentle handling of him that turns him on during sex.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Within those places where ABSOLUTELY NO ONE can see or hear you. But probably the bed, he's simple enough in his looks.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

I think it fires up surprisingly fast or not at all. Although given his temperament, this should not be surprising. It's just the truth... One moment he'll have a hard-on from a few words whispered in his ear from you, and the next time he won't have a hard-on even after you teasingly rub his cock through his pants.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Sex in public or semi-public places. Too much use of pain. And probably humiliation (albeit in a playful or, uh, romantic way maybe), but if you tease him like that... You better not do it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He loves to give. After all, he read a lot of books before your first time, like I said before, so he definitely knows what he's doing... Only in his head, of course.

Although he still loves to receive, of course! Blowjob, rimming, eating out, whatever! He likes everything as long as you do it. (Although for some reason it seems to me that he preferred rimming/eating out).

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slower and gentler tempo. He does not like to rush, he wants everything to be beautiful, cute and romantic. So he definitely prefers this pace.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He... Not a fan of that. Absolutely not a fan of this. One orgasm is probably not enough for him to satisfy himself. But if you or he really wants to fuck, but you don't have too much time, then of course he will agree.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He won't take risks, nope. Experiments of course. But he will not risk your reputation, health, or anything else. But to satisfy your perverted fantasies or offer his own, he is happy to.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Well, it lasts quite an average amount of about 5-10 I guess. Although somewhere around 12, he is already starting to get overstimulated.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He didn't have them. He considered it too dirty and unpleasant. Like who needs toys if there are hands, genitals and stuff? He... Began to treat them neutrally after starting a relationship with you. At least he doesn't mind them, and he'll keep something if you give it to him, but he's unlikely to buy it himself.

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease)

Riddle will not tease you if you are dominant. He wants to be completely obedient and a good boy for you, although he may tease you a little if it pleases you, but he will immediately finish with any disapproval from you. But he loves to tease you when he dominates. He just finds something sexy in your pleading or in your facial expression when he teases you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He thought he would be quiet like 1/10. But finished somewhere at 7-8/10. It's loud enough, yes. He doesn't scream though. But it's still very loud and that changes that fact. It's too easy for him to feel pleasure when it all starts, so he just can't handle it.

W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice)

He definitely has a kink to the size difference, it's true, you can't deny it. He's just tiny, and he's tiny there too. I'm just heading the headcanon for the fact that he has a small dick and has always been shy about it, even at the beginning of a relationship with you (well, I mean you're a guy biologically, if not, grow your dick). But after all, why does he need a big dick if he's the bottom, right? :)

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

Very slim. Maybe a little muscle, but it seems to me that there are not so many of them. Well, his penis is small in both size and girth, as I said earlier. 3-4 inches / 7-10 cm.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It is very low. I doubt he ever wanted to have too much sex, other than his puberty, of course. But on his own, he doesn't want to fuck very often, so in almost all situations you need to offer it.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fell asleep afterwards)

He... I think he generally has a hard time falling asleep, worrying about something or remembering. But I think next to you and even more so, given that he is tired, I think he will fall asleep quickly enough.

#seme male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #a!writes.#sub character #sub twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle x male reader #sub riddle #riddle x reader #riddle smut #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle Rosehearts x male reader #twisted wonderland headcanons

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 25 days ago

Text

A Pirate's Life for Me Chapter 2

Summary: Captain Bucky Barnes and his crew on the Armored Star are the most fearsome pirates in the known world. They’ve given the British fleet a run for their money as they try to free the enslaved and take from the rich, but they could have never guessed how the British empire would retaliate against them. When a new pirate ship appears and lays waste to all in its path, will Bucky and his crew be ready for the wrath of a woman scorned?

Warnings: piracy, pillaging, sexual assault, death/murder, blood/gore, violence, smut

*manbo: voodoo priestess

Previous chapter Next chapter

After a long few months at sea that finally ended in a successful takeover of the British trade ships, freeing the enslaved people aboard and taking the other supplies and gold, Bucky was sitting in a tavern on Tortuga, celebrating their victory with his crew and stocking up on supplies before they would head back home in the morning. He finished drinking his second pint, shooing away a prostitute before standing to relieve himself outside. When he finished he headed toward the front door when he heard–

“Did you hear about Barataria Bay?” one of the prostitutes leaning against the wall said quietly to the one next to her.

“Barataria Bay? No,” the other replied.

“The story is the British tracked down Barnes’ wifey and his crew’s families there,” the first continued, leaning toward her conspiratorially. “Leveled it. It’s still smoking to this day they say.”

“What?” Bucky barked, making them both jump at his voice. He cornered them so they wouldn’t run. “Where did you hear this?”

“At the docks!” The first said quickly, looking at him with wide eyes, the other’s mouth open wide as she stared at him. “Captain of the Jolly Sailor said something about the smoke being a thousand feet high.”

Bucky’s eyes bulged, his breaths getting faster and heavier. “What else did he say?” he demanded.

“I…I…” she stuttered.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “What else did he say?!”

“Please sir!” the first cried. “He said he was sailing by and they saw the fire and smoke and a large British ship leaving! He said he heard sirens crying. That’s all I know!”

“When was this?” he whispered, his fingers digging into the flesh of her arms.

She squirmed. “I don’t know, he mentioned passing through Dominica, so a few weeks ago?”

Bucky was going to be sick. He let go of her and thanked her quietly before running inside. He started gathering his crew and they got to the Armored Star in record time. It was still a few days trip home, and he was praying to whatever sea god he could think of to favor their sails to get home faster and prove it wasn’t true.

***

Ash. Smoking embers. Dried blood everywhere. Bucky fell to his knees when he reached his home to find it torched, one wall still standing that was riddled with bullet holes. The crew members had run through the surrounding village, calling out for their lovers, wives, and children, but no one was there. He cried heavily as he looked around. Y/N was right. She was always right. Why didn’t he listen to her? Now she was gone. Everyone was gone. The cries of his crew were too much to bear, but he sat still and listened. This was his punishment, surely, to hear the anguished cries of men who lost everything like him. He looked to his left to the cemetery just beyond the hill and saw multiple rows of freshly dug graves. His heart lurched to his stomach and he vomited profusely, the reality of it all settling in. He’d abandoned her when she begged him not to. He’d betrayed her. He screamed as he felt something deep inside him fracture. Bucky would never forgive himself.

***

“Did you hear about the pirate attack at the Brimstone Hill Fortress?”

“Yes! It was a bloodbath!”

“What about the one at Fort King George?”

“Was that the same ship?”

“I saw it! It was a deep, emerald green hull. It used to be the British fleet’s Vanquisher, but was stolen and renamed Dido’s Lament. It’s been wreaking havoc along the islands.”

“Dido’s Lament?”

Bucky tuned out the chatter around him. A new, up and coming group of pirates that had taken the islands by storm, or something like that. He didn’t care anymore. Nothing mattered. After he and his crew left Barataria Bay they had wandered the sea aimlessly, still fighting back the British and looting, but it all seemed meaningless now. His crew’s morale was gone, all looking like shells of themselves as they went about their regular duties on board. Bucky nearly inhaled his sixth pint, unsteadily standing and heading back to his room in the tavern. He couldn’t remember what island they were on now.

“They say you can hear sirens scream before they attack.”

“The sea is on Dido’s side…”

Bucky grabbed a prostitute by the arm and hauled her to his room. She protested at first until he jingled a money bag in her face. He slammed the door behind them and sat on a chair, undoing his belt and pulling his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free. She kneeled in front of him and started to pleasure him, her mouth warm and inviting as she bobbed her head up and down. He shut his eyes tight and envisioned his treasure pleasuring him and how perfect she was at it. This woman could never compare, but it would have to do. His hands gripped the chair’s armrests as his hips trembled, his breath getting heavier. He could see Y/N now, smiling up at him as he caressed her cheek, her eyes twinkling with mirth as she sucked him just right so he was at her mercy. The way her pussy would envelop him perfectly, like it was made just for him. Her bright smile. Her boisterous laugh. Her love of the sea and the stories he would tell her of his travels and finding creatures of the deep. Her kisses…

Bucky held the woman’s head down on him as he came in her mouth, spilling thick ropes of cum down her throat, making her cough and slightly gag. When he was finished he opened his eyes and let her up. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, sir, you're gonna have to pay extra for that!” she spat at him, wiping her mouth.

“Fine,” Bucky said in a bored tone, grabbing the money bag and pulling out a handful of coins. “This enough?”

“Yessir,” she said with a wide smile. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something more?”

“No,” he grumbled. “Get out.”

She huffed but stood and nodded, quickly leaving his room and shutting the door hard behind her. Bucky tucked his cock back into his pants, standing to lock the door and then walking to the bed. He let his body fall on it with a grunt. He hadn’t fully made love since he’d left Y/N then found the Bay a year ago, and he didn’t think he ever would again. He only used prostitutes for quick relief while he was on land, then would let himself suffer. That’s what he deserved, a lifetime of suffering for his sins. He began to cry, like he did every night, exhausting himself into a fitful night’s sleep of memories of Y/N, and the harrowing cries of his crew.

#marvel #smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #series fanfic #pirate!bucky barnes #chapter 2 #siren

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randomgurl2326 · 10 months ago

Text

Harry Potter Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ask Box: Open

Gryffindors

Harry Potter

Coming Soon…

Hermione Granger

Coming Soon…

Ron Weasley

Coming Soon…

Fred Weasley

Coming Soon…

George Weasley

Coming Soon…

Bill Weasley

Coming Soon…

Neville Longbottom

Coming Soon…

Slytherins

Theodore Nott

Andromeda and Perseus: Destined SERIES

Summary: Theodore Nott and Y/N Riddle have been betrothed to each other from a young age. Some say it was a betrothal of convenience, some say it was destined.

All movies will be included, plus a prologue and epilogue.

Stars and Book Annotations

Summary: the one where real love is shown, not only through words, but by little observations.

Coming Soon…

Smile Pt. 1

Mattheo Riddle

Coming Soon…

Lorenzo Berkshire

Coming Soon…

Blaise Zabini

Coming Soon…

Draco Malfoy

Coming Soon…

Pansy Parkinson

Coming Soon…

Ravenclaws

Luna Lovegood

Coming Soon…

Hufflepuffs

Cedric Diggory

Coming Soon…

Head Cannons

Coming Soon…

Incorrect Quotes

Slytherin Boys + Wifey Pansy + Y/N Slytherin Boys + Wifey Pansy + Y/N 2 Slytherin Boys + Wifey Pansy + Y/N 3

Coming Soon…

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merakiui · 1 year ago

Note

Tell us more about Dr. Riddle and his captive pregnant wifey please!! Omg

Riddle has this delusion that you’re incapable of taking care of yourself without his aid. After all, he’s the licensed professional. He knows your body more than you do—at least on a professional level. He keeps you chained and collared to a metal support beam in the basement, and there’s a fluffy mattress for a bed. He feels immensely bad for subjecting you to these conditions, but the last time he thought he could trust you enough to bring you upstairs you nearly ran away. So for now you’re given fluffy sheets and pillows in hopes that it’ll provide enough comfort and soften you to this situation. Riddle doesn’t want to hurt you, but he has no choice sometimes, especially when you try to escape.

Still, it’s in a doctor’s nature to be patient and so he remains calm when interacting with you, even when you yell and struggle and kick. Sometimes he snaps at you, but for the most part he’s always sweet. Always smiling so adoringly at you, even when you’re crouched and shivering, too fearful to do anything but nod. You pick at your meals and he tries so hard to get you to eat everything on your plate. You need the energy. Don’t starve yourself; he won’t allow it. He sits in front of you and tries to start conversations as if everything is completely normal.

Inevitably, you’ll get pregnant. He wants a lot from you, and there’s no chance you’ll ever escape him. You’re trapped here; you have no say in the matter. Riddle keeps you just weak enough so you won’t feel compelled to squirm or hit him when he’s near you. It’s medicine, he claims, but you never know where medicine starts and when magic fades away. You have no clue if any of this is even a spell or the result of some prescription he thinks you need. During copulation, you feel so foggy and distant, as if you’re wading through a sea of smoke. Shamefully enough, you hate that it feels good. You hate that you cling to him when he’s making love to you, and it’s always so telling when you soak through the sheets with your slick arousal. How can you not when he’s whispering the sweetest things—things no one has ever told you before?

He’s even more of a controlling mess when you start getting symptoms, even more so when you start showing. He treats you as if you’re glass. Everything must be perfect; he can’t lose the baby. He can’t lose you. He drives himself half-mad ensuring you’re content and healthy, but with each passing month you only grow more hormonal. You’re so protective of the baby. Every time he attempts to get close to you, you curl in on yourself and hide your belly with the duvet or your arms. Riddle understands the bond between mother and child is a special, sacred thing, but please let him take your temperature, let him rub the oil on your belly, let him help you to the bathroom. You’re so stubborn, but he remains patient, scarily so.

Your wardrobe changes with each trimester. By the final few months, you’re swathed in soft, flowing, easy-to-remove nightgowns. Riddle seems to fall for you even more, if such a feat was possible. He loves you in spite of all the heartache you cause when you hide from him, protect your baby bump from him, insist you can do everything yourself. In between all of that, though, you struggle with your pregnancy libido. Grinding into your hand isn’t nearly as fulfilling as real, raw sex with Riddle. He smiles at you as he watches you try and fail to work yourself towards orgasm. Let him help; he knows you need him. You just refuse to recognize this yet and that’s okay. Your doctor always knows best, after all. He only wants to help you as a doctor (and lover) should.

Your child is raised in captivity. She’s a sweet thing, rosy-red hair like Riddle. But she has your eyes and so she’s the most precious treasure in your world. You love her to pieces in spite of everything. At first you refused to give her a name, as naming anything leads to inevitable affection, and you almost didn’t want to love her. But she deserves to be loved; it’s not her fault. You try to raise her, but it’s tiring with Riddle’s constant control. He never raises his voice at either of you, though, even when he’s frustrated. For that, you’re relieved. It’s exhausting to be a mother, but you’re determined to be the best mother for your little girl.

You hope to escape someday with your child in tow, but Riddle always has so many elaborate plans. He’s so organized when he pens all of the future goals he has for you and your child to be a good, happy family. And if you start to get just a little too smart and cunning for his liking, some medicine will provide an easy fix. That, or another pregnancy. Doctor’s orders. :)

#twisted chit chat #yandere twst #tw: pregnancy #tw: baby trapping

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return-to-twisted-wonderland · 3 days ago

Note

Timeline + Event for Emily

Prologue

Book 1

Book 2

- Not in Riddle's and Leona's overblot

- Finally back from being in the other world

Before book 3

- The 2 lover met again

- Ghost Marriage event because you know Idia

- Husband and wife

Book 3

- In Azul's overblot because of Aquarium

Before Book 4

- Fairy Gala event (the first one ver)

Book 4

- Not in Jamil's overblot

- Meeting with her mother again and maybe take Riddle back

Book 5

- Not in SDC so not in Vil's overblot

Book 6

- In Idia's overblot

- Hmn a mad wifey

Before Book 7

- Fairy Gala event (the rerun ver)

Book 7

- 100% in Malleus's overblot

- Could be fighting Malleus in the real world because more character lore

— 👻 anon

Idia, sees his wife: Oh no!

#twisted wonderland #return home au #👻 anon #emily rosehearts #idia shroud

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butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 8 months ago

Text

I've been feeling inclined to vent about the general concept of "substance use" and "dependency" recently for no particular reason, and it's probably just my own brain finally processing some of the things that happened to me in The Bad Times but what the hell lets go with it.

I was pretty much straight edge until my mid 20s, no alcohol, cigarettes, weed, nothing. Then I got into a series of abusive relationships, nearly died of Mystery Diseases, and a pandemic happened right after. My life went from barely getting by in the world to bouncing between constant crises overnight. I was in therapy and had been for years, I had self care tools and was using them. I was medicated for all of my diagnosed mental health needs (ADHD wasn't on the record yet, so was still unmanaged, but I was doing my best behaviorally to keep on top of shit, obviously that stopped working fast). I worked full time plus going to school part time plus working part time at my internship for a grand total of about 90 hrs per week of work/school related obligations. I lived with several other people who I worked to support financially and who I needed to also support emotionally, and I still managed to run my household for the most part with minimal support except from wifey who was also working about 60-70 hour weeks at her own job to help us make ends meet and was only barely medicated and managed herself. I genuinely don't know when I slept or rested.

The first thing I tried was weed. I used edibles to sleep without nightmares or the anxieties that would keep me up for the rare few hours I had to rest. It also helped with the constant pain I was in. I would get high as fuck on a weed brownie or a pre roll on the one day off I had each month so I didn't have to think or feel or exist because it was the only way I could find to genuinely relax anymore without worrying about the growing mountain of Life Responsibilities that I could never catch up on. Life eased a bit, and I kept doing that.

One day, I had a rare night off, and wifey was going to go out to a club with some friends. I hadn't been anywhere fun in years. I hadn't had time or money or energy. I was desperate to see people and relax and maybe sance a little. A pandemic was on, and the local clubs were having discounts like mad. We went and got shitfaced on cocktails that cost less than lunch at a diner for a round and I made out with a cute girl and I came home laughing for the first time in years. From then on, we would keep a cheap six pack of something in the fridge and every once in a while I would down 2-3 and get fucked up for a bit between that and the weed. Life felt a bit easier and I kept going.

But behind the scenes the cracks kept forming. It wasn't the substances that were causing them. And they weren't even what was making it worse. But they were letting me pretend those cracks weren't there. Letting me run from a reality I knew I couldn't fix. By the time I realized how bad things had gotten, how deep into the pit I was, I was living in a tent in the woods, cooking my dinners on a campfire with my family, throwing back weed and cheap booze like my life depended on it because god what the fuck else do you have when a creek and a rainstorm are the closest you get to a shower and your bed is a pile of blankets in a military surplus tent with all the warm bodies piled together so you don't fucking freeze at night?

I was still working full time though, and for those hours, I had to be sober. No if ands or buts about it. And I was okay with that line, even if it left me riddled with anxiety and trauma and stress 16 hours a day while I worked my doubles in the ER and came home to try and scrub the COVID off in the creek before I went back to the tent. And then a coworker asked me if I wanted to join her on a cigarette break. I did. I desperately wanted to feel normal. To chitchat and talk about nothing important, and feel the breeze on my face. So I bummed a cigarette and smoked with her. That one cigarette became 3 a day. Then 6. Then, a whole pack. A nervous habit of sucking on a cigarette or a vape whenever I needed to fidget or relax while still being sober. It's been 3 years now and I've tried to quit half a dozen times but here I am in my fucking home office pulling on a cigarette like it's my last hope of comfort.

I don't drink anymore though. My body won't let me. Blah blah allergic reactions blah blah. Fine. I kept trying for a while, allergies be damned. But it stopped being worth it. Sometimes the cigarettes aren't worth it either. I choke on every inhale and my body dry heaves like it knows I'm putting in something it doesn't want. On those days I don't smoke. I don't think there have been many days I've gone without weed. I honestly don't know what to do with myself on the days I abstain. Like I do? I can cope. I just. I'm still so tired.

The part of me that broke all those years ago and said fuck it, lets see what drugs do, is still recovering. It's still resting and healing. Some days are better than others. Some days it does fine and it says "lets fuckin rawdog the day my mans" and I do, and it's great. Other times it's so small and frail that I know if I tried I might break it again, and I just can't risk that.

I've been told before that this is dependency. Maybe even misuse. I've been told by others that this is the point. If it's helping, then let it. I don't know what the answer is. Some days I resent not being the person I was before I started using weed and cigarettes to get through the day. I've tried other things too, and they've never done much for me, so I never went back. Does that mean that I'm not "dependent" I'm "self-medicating"? Is that a good or a bad thing? Does it fucking matter? I honestly don't know. I wish it didn't feel like it mattered. I wish that I could go through my days and feel like I had more of a choice. I actually miss being able to get high lol. Like weed hasn't given me an actual high in years, it just. Helps me get through things a little better. But how much am I really willing to keep living that way? How much of my life do I *want* impacted by whether or not I can smoke or have some thc? Some days it's fine. Some days I'm bothered by it.

The thing that gets me every time though is how at every single point when I made the choice to pick up a new "substance" it was because I was desperate, overwhelmed, and completely without alternatives. I knew full goddamn well every time what I was doing. I had years of both anti-drug war knowledge and addiction/recovery knowledge in my brain and I understood that I was at my most vulnerable, I was my most at risk. That making this choice could be fine or could be life changing or could be somewhere in between and it was worth being self aware as I did it. But I just. I was so tired. I was so broken down. I just needed to rest. I needed to feel something other than the stress and fear for a while. And no one was offering me anything else that made a dent. Trust me. I tried.

I don't say this to suggest to people that Drugs Are The Answer. I genuinely don't think they are. I still wish every day I had never picked up that first cigarette. I still wish that I felt well enough to live my life without needing help to rest and recover. But I can't blame anyone who makes the choices I did. I can't doubt the feelings of need and desperation that often drive us to interact with our support tools the way we do. I've also found over the years, that it's not just "substances" that people will turn to for help with avoidance the way I did. Avoidance is so very very human, and the way I skirted around acknowledging how beyond my capacity for repair my life was getting (even while actively working to resolve those things) had more to do with mh inability to acknowledge that I was failing people I loved than what tool I was using to avoid the acknowledgement. It could just as easily have been my work, or video games, or shopping, or gardening, or anything else in the world that allowed me to isolate myself in a world that felt smaller and simpler for a while so I could take a break from problem solving the way the rest of my world was steadily crumbling around me. I chose weed, alcohol and nicotine. Other people will make other choices. But maybe we all sometimes run away from problems we realize we can't solve until one day we're backed into a corner we can't run from. Maybe that's just human. Maybe the drugs just made me feel less like shit while I ran. And maybe that's part of how I survived to make things right for myself.

I really don't know. I can't know.

What I do know is that I left the relationship that was destroying my life. I'm safe now, and wifey and I are doing much better now that our communication isn't being actively sabotaged. I'm doing much better now healthwise that the food in my home is consistently safe to eat for me and I'm not being left without any food at all on a semi-regular basis. I *am* still the primary breadwinner of the household, but it no longer feels as though I have to run the household itself on top of that, and I *am* consistently supported (encouraged even) to rest when needed, even if that is still hard for me to do. I've stopped drinking, and that does feel better. I spend less time and energy seeking substances and I *do* smoke fewer cigarettes less often even if I do still smoke sometimes. I feel happier and more stable than I think I ever have. My life is. Mostly working? And pretty good now. The cracks have been able to heal in ways that are, if not structurally sound, at least working up to it. I am fragile, but making progress. Does that mean I made the right choices? The wrong ones? Will I ever know?

I dunno comrade. But. We all do what we can, what we must, and what we can figure out. Maybe judgement and shame about all that just doesn't help.

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daddyhausen · 2 years ago

Text

• sunflowers — hangman adam page — chapter two •

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ masterlist } | { aew masterlist } | { hangman adam page masterlist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ warnings } — none

{ word count } — 790

{ pairing } — fem!reader x hangman adam page

{ genre } — none

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ taglist } — @stxrrlightwrites13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @legit9thlunaticwarrior @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @baybay-boom @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @eddie-kingstons-wifey @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ chapter one }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ you have chosen : go with willow }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

🌻

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

fighting willow’s strength was practically impossible, for she had managed to drag you from your bedroom, down the hall and out the front door within a matter of seconds, with little to no objection from you…not that you had much of a choice in the matter.

the warm summer sun beating against your skin with a blistering heat, rays of light practically blinding your eyes, sensitive to the change of light. once they adjusted, after a few rapid blinks or so, you caught a glimpse of the beautiful mare prancing openly in the fields, her gorgeous dapple grey coat shimmering under the midday sun, with an almost blue-grey hue.

“looks like she finally had that foal” willow mentioned, momentarily distracted by the foal following behind her closely, barely leaving its mother’s side. the ranch looked especially dishevelled this day, the heat already getting to the few farmers in the fields, fanning themselves off with their hats while the other had retreated back to their quarters to cool of for a few moments, even the animals mimicked their human counterparts, the horses especially taking shelter underneath the gigantic oak tree near the far left of the pasture, those of which who had to retired back into the stable already.

“anyway, i wonder where that handsome devil is?” willow quickly returned herself back to reality, eyes scanning cautiously for this new stable hand.

“willow, i don’t think this is such a good idea-“

“there’s no harm in introducing yourself my dear, y/n” her infectious smile matched the same radiating warmth of the sun. god she could be so persuasive even without saying a word. she still held a death grip on your wrist, dragging you off the porch, almost falling flat on your face in the process as you attempted to make your way down the stairs due to willow’s brute yet unintentional force

“bet he’s in the stables” willow commented, more to herself than to you. a determined look graced her usually soft and innocent features, pouty lips furrowed slightly hellbent on your introduction to the unknown stablehand.

“if i embarrass myself i am going to kill you” you whisper-yelled as the two of you approached the stables, silently praying to god that he was not inside.

“y/n if that happens, which i highly doubt, i give you my permission” her response quick and sarcastic, her curls bouncing slightly with them quirky movements of her head

your body felt weak, chest felt heavy and riddled with an anxiety that was definitely not commonplace. you eyed willow suspiciously, her hand lightly pushing the heavy barn-like door open slightly. she’s leaked through the crack offering you a silent thumbs up mere seconds after confirming her suspicions. the two of you tip-toed inside, hoping the slight creak of the door did not alert him of your presence.

“he’s around the corner, take a look”

“are your crazy?! don’t you think this is a bit creepy?!-“

willow clasped a hand across your mouth hastily, quickly peering around the corner, noticing that he was still enamoured with the horses

“just be quiet and take a look”

you rolled your eyes exaggeratedly, perking slightly past the corner, freezing when you first caught a glimpse of him. your mouth ran dry, throat hoarse and empty of words. willow was right, he was indeed be

handsome, his hair long, golden curls tied back into a loose bun, trimmed beard matching the same golden hue, body soft, yet shapely and firm, perfect for cuddling-

you shook your head at that last part of your thought, trying to rid it from your memory.

his attire was neat, yet slightly smudged with dirt and hay, a pale blue button down, the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, a simple pair of dark washed denim jeans and brown cowboy boots hidden underneath. you caught yourself staring, not able to bring yourself to look away, simply watching on in awe, blinking absentmindedly as he tended to the horses.

his eyes twitched in your direction slightly, seemingly having caught you in his peripherals. you squeaked in embarrassment, quickly taking your place behind the stable wall, willow show you a questioning look

“what happened-“

“he saw me-“ you whisper yelled

“what-?!” willow remarked, a sliver of a smile forming across her petal-shaped lips

“he saw me!-“ you repeated immediately clasping your hand across you mouth upon realising how loud you were

“is anyone there?” his voice echoed around the stables, the slight southern drawl made your heart flutter despite your shock and horror. you could barely catch a glimpse of him scanning the stable through the small cracks in the wood, willow already, albeit silently, urging your to introduce yourself

“go.” willow urged continuously.

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

#{ my fics : 🤍 }#hangman adam page #hangman adam page x reader #hangman adam page fanfic #hangman adam page imagine #hangman page smut #interactive fic #interactive fanfic #aew fanfiction #aew smut #aew wrestling #aew imagine #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut

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fatedstrands · 1 year ago

Note

16. Be embarrassed or be afraid?

OOC//Munday Meme

I would rather be embarrassed. I'm tired of being afraid, tired of being scared, call it my villain era or whatever but I don't care anymore, yknow?

Besides, embarrassing moments sometimes become your greatest memories. Like with my sister's name, or with my wifey we've had MANY silly moments I was embarrassed about but now are some of my most beloved memories.

Like the Nib Ribbler or when I try to speak and flub so hard I just sound like a seal, we both fall into the happy little seal flubs and it makes us laugh and my days so much brighter.

Fear just lingers, it clutches your heart and hauls you down into anxiety riddled freezing and I just can't handle it more than I'm already forced to.

'I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees' - Citizen Soldier's 'Face to Face' song.

#The Angelic Choir #bishopinblue #ooc//#t//munday funday answers

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emoryinaboat · 2 years ago

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!! !! !!

TYSM Does this mean introduce 3 ocs??? Idk it does now, just for u bestie <33

(Also important info, all my OCs are magic like it started as a Harry Potter thing but then we obviously transferred them to our own thing and here we are, gay idiots at magic schools)

Cassidy💫

(Bby ur my -inhale- aNGELLL)

Name: Cassidy

Age: 17

Pronouns: She/her (cis)

Sexuality: Omnisexual

General description: The sunshine in the biggest sunshine x stormcloud relationship we have

TRIVIA:

- She has spastic diaplegic cerebral palsy, she can walk independently but not for long so she uses crutches most of the time, wheelchair on low energy days

- All her mobility aids are covered in sanrio stickers or is otherwize bedazzled somehow

- She actually always has beads in her braids, picrew is just a bitch and never has her hairstyle :')

- Has an angsty autistic Kaz Brekker core boyfriend named Booker (my S/O made him) and they are disgustingly in love it's very cute

- She's really good at making origami and she's constantly making little lotuses and dinosaurs for Booker and little frog hoppers for his little sister Bessie

- Talks to her stuffies, she has s o many of them.

- Has been keeping diaries since she was 6, never doesn't have it on her. She's painted a bunch of little white rabbits on the cover because they're her lucky animal

- When she was 9-12 she put those bicycle beads that go click-click-click when you turn the wheel on her chair

- Adores puzzles, riddles and brain teasers. Her rubix cube record is 31 seconds, she's very proud of it

- Idk man she's just really pretty in an aesthetic way, like she always has cute patterns painted on her nails, she has hearts in her edges and eyeliner, she wears cute pajamas to bed, she's just very cute-

- Feels love pains in her arms, needs to squish something

- Love languages are physical touch, gift giving and quality time

Milan⚡

(Bastard./affectionate)

Name: Milan

Age: 18

Pronouns: He/him (cis)

Sexuality: Bisexual

General description: Leading man but he's a little fucked up actually/lh

TRIVIA

- Lead singer and frontman of a famous pop-punk-kindof boyband, at first me and wifey dearest(/lh) couldn't think of a name for the band so we started just calling them Guys Being Dudes but that's what they're called now.

- Is dating his other bandmates, Ruben (mine), AJ and Zach (both my S/O's). Won't shut tf up about them in interviews

- Early diagnosed with bipolar disorder after very nearly decimating their careers.

- Had a really traumatic fanmail incident when they were really starting to break it big. Has some issues with their fans now but he's working on that-

- Has a therapy rat named Eddie (after Venom, not Stranger Things). The band also has one of those crusty white woman dogs/lh named MJ

- He will tell you his favourite movie is Back to the Future. This is a lie, his favourite is How to Train Your Dragon

- Best friends with an Olympic gymnast named Evangeline, she's had to hear his pining for his bandmates for years now

- Was really emo when the band was just starting out. Like bottle blond smeared eyeshadow Set It Off Band-T over striped shirt emo

- He gave Ruben his first haircut and thus saved Ruben from the "Awful First Trans Haircut" narrative because he's been cutting his own hair since he was 11

- Kind of emotionally distant Catholic family. Didn't outright say they don't like his lifestyle but by god they made it known. He only sees them around holidays and he only attends church loosely or for special occasions

- Really loves interacting with fan content, his twitter is a constant spam of fanart and fanfic, he follows back content creators, he reads and hypes up fanfic, all the time

- When he's scared (like harmless horror movie viewing kind) he doesn't scream or jump or anything, he just tenses up and starts crying-

- Colours his nails in with sharpie

Caio 🏁

(I promise you he is not as threatening as the picrew shows he's just got a ~persona~)

Name: Caio

Age: 18

Pronouns: He/him (Cis)

Sexuality: Bisexual with a bigg male preference

General description: We're genius for this ship trope.

TRIVIA

- Drag racer, his cars are his fucking babies

- Yes that's cars plural, his adoptive parents are RICH rich and are away for work a lot so they give him and his sister Genesis more allowance than they know what to do with. So what's an ND adrenaline-seeking teenage boy gonna do? Drag racing of course.

- Autism and ADHD and enough people-pleasing trauma to power a small nation. Most of his past relationships were his partners not communicating their relationship expectations and him wanting more than casual hookups and kinda being used :/ and now he doesn't really know how to value his own needs he's working on it-

- But he has a boyfriend now and they are also disgustingly in love and they're gonna make it everyones problem. His name is Keanu (S/O's) and he's a drag queen and I told you we were geniuses for that

- HoH and always forgets to wear his hearing aids, he mostly relies on lip reading. He has a walkie-talkie-radio-thing in his car that flashes when Genesis needs to contact him mid-race (cos like. Cops)

- When he has meltdowns it creates these magic power surges, he's been known to blow out lightbulbs. Once broke down so hard that he cut off the whole house's power

- He used to be on the cheer team and he can still do the flips and stuff, still super flexible

- Has like. No actual friends-

- He acts big at races and stuff but he is just the embodiment of the autism creature. He is just an excitable affection puppy who intensely autism stares when he's hyped

- Is an awful gossip, he needs to know everything about everyone at all times

- He makes rly good coffee-

- Him and Genesis are both fluent in ASL but his parents never bothered to learn. Genesis goes nonverbal sometimes though so Caio acts as translator when that happens

- Love languages are quality time, physical touch, verbal affection and late night drives

#I could talk about these idiots forever.#pls keep this going guys this is fun <3

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