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#men who simp over their women
rp-partnerfinder · 26 days
Note
Hi, you can call me Storm! I'm 30 and the mom of a loud and demanding cat ❤️
I’m a multiple paragraphs/novella style writer. I love to write detailed descriptions and delve into a character’s head/emotions as well as surroundings. I compare it to writing a novel together. Not every reply has to be novella length, however. If there are action or dialogue heavy scenes, I tend to do a shorter back and forth to keep the momentum going. 
I only do MxF (with me writing the female role). I don’t double, but I’m more than happy to write side characters of either gender to help move the story along. I only want female authors writing male characters as I’ve had bad experiences with cis male authors. (Trans men and nonbinary pals are exceptions).
I'm really hoping to find a friendship, someone who can add to our story, and most importantly, someone who wants a long-term connection. It's difficult for me to write with someone if I don't feel that genuine bond. It's also important to me to have a high level of activity, with at least one reply a day. 
If you suddenly stop replying ic and ooc, I'll drop the story after 2 attempts of gauging interest spaced a week apart. But feel free to message me if you want to pick the story back up again, even months later. 
Searching For: 
20+ partners only 
An excellent grasp of grammar, punctuation, spelling, and capitalization. (Literate to advanced writers only, please. I'm not looking for newbies)
Plot before smut. While mature themes will be in my writing, there needs to be chemistry between our characters. I normally do a 60/40 plot to smut ratio and my characters tend to be subs/switches depending on the circumstances 
 An older male character (early forties to mid-late fifties). I love the gruff and tough men with dark pasts who secretly have a soft heart. I also love grumpy, hypermasculine men being intimidated by sweet but fiery women. My characters are mid-late twenties to early-mid thirties so the age gap is legal. 
Enthusiasm to chat about our character and ship, how to crush them and then gushing over fluffy moments. I love crying over characters and what the heck they’re doing. I want my heart ripped from my chest from angst, then feeling like it’s going to burst from overwhelming cuteness. I want us to love these characters and the world we create. I want to make pinterest boards, spotify playlists, graphics, and toss headcanons back and forth until late at night. 
Have an idea for a scene? Found a picture that inspired you? Send it to me! Be invested when it comes to plotting/worldbuilding. There’s nothing worse than receiving one sentence in reply to two paragraphs of ideas, or having a doormat partner who says “sure” to whatever I ask. Building ideas one on top of the other, watching them snowball into amazing plot threads brings me joy. But having to pull plot ideas like I’m pulling teeth makes me think you’re not interested, and I will lose interest in return.
Interests: 
Modern fantasy, monsters, sci-fi, omegaverse, southern gothic/midwest gothic (i’m a sucker for that southern/texas drawl), horror, height/size difference, cheating/affair, enemies to lovers, slow burn romance, spooky small towns, post apocalyptic/dystopia, crime/mysteries, emotionally charged/dark and gritty, bodyguard x assignment, forced proximity, opposites attract, fated mates, anti heroes/morally gray characters, traumatic pasts, grumpy x sunshine, one bed, men who simp over their women, touch her / him and die, and more.
I have lots of original plot ideas in mind as well!
Fandoms (OCs ONLY) 
Star Wars, Stranger Things, Mercy Thompson Series, True Blood, The Last of Us, Hunger Games
I write only on discord using servers with organized channels. Like this post or add me on discord (magicofrain) if you’re interested. The most effective way to grab my genuine interest is by messaging me as if we've been friends for years. Please let me know which interests you liked from my ad.
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infriga · 8 months
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Some people have been saying that live action Sanji feels a little bit more soft and endearing than manga Sanji, but they can't pinpoint why because he does still feel like Sanji. Some people think it's just Taz's acting, and he does do a great job, but I don't think that's the main reason. Others think his flirting has been turned down a bit, but honestly it hasn't really? He still openly flirts with Nami when they first meet, and he still says things like "women are a mystery to be unraveled" and other goofy simp stuff. And his kindness like being willing to feed the hungry no matter what is obviously something that was always there (it's why Luffy chose him in the first place. Hell, in the manga he chooses Sanji as his cook before he ever actually tastes Sanji's cooking, simply because he sees Sanji feed Gin and realizes what kind of person Sanji is).
But there is a difference! And I've figured out what it is, because there IS one manga/anime Sanji trait that wasn't present in live action Sanji: his hatred of men.
Live action Sanji isn't a misandrist anymore 😳
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misslovasstuff · 18 days
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If you have a type it’s likely that you attract a certain type as well.
This is true, right? BUT THEN, you have Sanji, whose type we all know, and all he attracts are either women who want to kill him at first or men. That’s it, that’s the range.
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kouhaiofcolor · 1 year
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"Toxic femininity isn't real men are way worse that terminology is misogynistic—"
Girl be serious. That IS the toxicity. That shit right there.😅
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beretheiv · 2 years
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i know it's been years but if teresa agnes was a man, she'd have lots of apologists and fangirl simps, i live for girlies who are morally ambiguous, i love her, I'm her apologist, she's my girl idc, teresa just wanted to find a cure and I'll stand by my girlfriend, she didn't deserve to die
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tariah23 · 2 years
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Oh wow
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crxss01 · 10 months
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request ! 😌
i saw something about Mrs. Morales having a picture of Miles’ girlfriend in her wallet and i think it’s literally the cutest thing ever 😭😭😭 could you write some headcannons about Mrs. Morales absolutely loving Miles’ girlfriend? for both E-1610 Miles and E-42 Miles? thank you !!!
— Mama Love
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pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x fem!reader, 1610!miles morales x fem!reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ tía morales really enjoys having you as her son’s girlfriend.
warnings ✧˖ ° fluff, cursing, tía morales offering to whoop miles’s ass for you.
m. list, main m. list.
translations ✧࿓☾ mi niña preciosa: my precious little girl, si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—: if you hurt her again i swear that i’ll—, no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!: don’t you ever stand her up again, niño no hagas que te golpé: boy don’t make me whoop you.
a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i think i know what fic you’re talking about, but i don’t remember the author. i love tía morales, hope you enjoy!
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42!miles morales
this boy does not play with his girl and mom so you better believe that he was so happy that his mom loved you so much.
at first he was worried that his mom wouldn’t accept you or get along with you because in that case he would’ve no choice but to break up with you in order to not make his mom uncomfortable.
she matters too much to him for him to just go and date someone she doesn’t approve of.
but his worries vanished the moment he saw the two of you in the kitchen after he had come from some prowler business and heard his mom talking about how beautiful you were and how you and miles complemented each other.
that was the first time you two had met and since then you were inseparable.
you were the it mom and future daughter-in-law duo.
many times you and tía morales were talking about him and she found absolutely adorable the way your eyes lid up when talking about her son
“mi niña preciosa,” she would sigh. “you and miles are made for each other.”
other times you would talk about the world of fashion and gossip about the women and men in the neighborhood.
one time tía morales argued with a woman after she had cursed at you, telling her about how she was too grown to be acting like that.
you two laughed about it later and she let you know that if you ever needed help from ladies who acted like children to just call her.
one time miles even complained about the amount of time his mother spent with his girlfriend and he got called selfish.
never complained to either of you again.
his uncle aaron once got to hear this complain and laughed at him telling him he’s a simp
miles got you and his mom matching neckless and you two absolutely loved them.
now, neither of you takes it off.
then he got jealous of that so he got you and him matching bracelets.
you have a picture of him and his mom as your homescreen and he got jealous because it used to be only him.
tía morales has you as her homescreen and everytime someone sees it she would tell them that you were her son’s girlfriend who was her niña preciosa.
you would come over even when miles was not there just to spend time with her.
she taught you how to cook many dishes puertorriqueños.
and if you didn’t speak spanish already, she would teach you many words.
would feel guilty when she said a bad word around you and you would repeat it.
“no, mi niña. don’t say that!”
miles always got an earful from his mom whenever he did something to you that she found out of line, like one time he yelled at you.
“si la vuelves a lastimar te juro que—”
yeah, he never yelled at you after that.
or like ever did anything that would hurt you.
miles might act like he didn’t like how close you and his mom were but he secretly loved that.
you and tía morales couldn’t care less if he liked your closeness or not.
1610!miles morales
now this one does love his mom but wouldn’t break up with you if you two didn’t get along.
but since day one you and tía morales got along right away.
it was like you were destined to be her daughter-in-law, like she would often say.
miles absolutely loved that and would often join both of you in your conversations and cooking lessons.
one time you were learning how to make patacón and miles was absolutely freaking out because he felt like you would get burned.
tía morales took him out of the kitchen, telling him that if he kept being in there with all that bad energy then you will end up burning yourself.
she taught you a lot of different recipes from her culture and if you are boricua then you would just make them together, since people use different seasonings for everything.
tía morales and you would walk around the neighborhood, talking about some lady from there who cheated on her husband and how he publicly humiliated her right in front of everyone.
one time miles stood you up for the fifth time and since you didn’t know he was spiderman, you just felt neglected by him for no reason.
his mom made sure to make things clear for him.
“no la vuelvas a dejar plantada!” the look she gave him was enough for him not to make his patrols around the same time as your dates.
he had to apologize with flowers and chocolates that his mom helped pick out for you, she also told him to give you some money.
after that you felt better and forgave miles, but not before thanking tía morales for talking to him.
tía morales and you went out a lot.
like going shopping,
buying ice cream,
going to restaurants where miles tagged along.
miles never felt jealousy of you spending time with his mom but he felt a little mad when he found out that he was no longer your homescreen wallpaper.
he was, but his mom was in the picture too so he got pouty.
he complained right there in front of his mom, acting like a damn child.
“niño, no hagas que te golpé.” tía morales had said, giving him a blank stare.
yeah, never complained again.
but you had to make him your perfile picture in every socia media or he will ignore you.
you made his mom your whatsapp perfile pic though, since she made you download it. (if you had it before then you just put it because you wanted to show off your bfs mother).
she had you as her homescreen and would feel so proud whenever someone called the girl in the picture gorgeous and would immediately say that it was her son’s gf.
in the end you and tía morales are besties.
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taglist: @anikaluv @janaeby @queerponcho
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ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
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7K notes · View notes
rp-partnerfinder · 17 days
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Hi, you can call me Storm! I'm 30 and the mom of a loud and demanding cat ❤️
I’m a multiple paragraphs/novella style writer. I love to write detailed descriptions and delve into a character’s head/emotions as well as surroundings. I compare it to writing a novel together. Not every reply has to be novella length, however. If there are action or dialogue heavy scenes, I tend to do a shorter back and forth to keep the momentum going. 
I only do MxF (with me writing the female role). I don’t double, but I’m more than happy to write side characters of either gender to help move the story along. I only want female authors writing male characters as I’ve had bad experiences with cis male authors. (Trans men and nonbinary pals are exceptions).
I'm really hoping to find a friendship, someone who can add to our story, and most importantly, someone who wants a long-term connection. It's difficult for me to write with someone if I don't feel that genuine bond. It's also important to me to have a high level of activity, with at least one reply a day. 
If you suddenly stop replying ic and ooc, I'll drop the story after 2 attempts of gauging interest spaced a week apart. But feel free to message me if you want to pick the story back up again, even months later. 
Searching For: 
20+ partners only 
An excellent grasp of grammar, punctuation, spelling, and capitalization. (Literate to advanced writers only, please. I'm not looking for newbies)
Plot before smut. While mature themes will be in my writing, there needs to be chemistry between our characters. I normally do a 60/40 plot to smut ratio and my characters tend to be subs/switches depending on the circumstances 
 An older male character (early forties to mid-late fifties). I love the gruff and tough men with dark pasts who secretly have a soft heart. I also love grumpy, hypermasculine men being intimidated by sweet but fiery women. My characters are mid-late twenties to early-mid thirties so the age gap is legal. 
Enthusiasm to chat about our character and ship, how to crush them and then gushing over fluffy moments. I love crying over characters and what the heck they’re doing. I want my heart ripped from my chest from angst, then feeling like it’s going to burst from overwhelming cuteness. I want us to love these characters and the world we create. I want to make pinterest boards, spotify playlists, graphics, and toss headcanons back and forth until late at night. 
Have an idea for a scene? Found a picture that inspired you? Send it to me! Be invested when it comes to plotting/worldbuilding. There’s nothing worse than receiving one sentence in reply to two paragraphs of ideas, or having a doormat partner who says “sure” to whatever I ask. Building ideas one on top of the other, watching them snowball into amazing plot threads brings me joy. But having to pull plot ideas like I’m pulling teeth makes me think you’re not interested, and I will lose interest in return.
Interests: 
Modern fantasy, monsters, sci-fi, omegaverse, southern gothic/midwest gothic (i’m a sucker for that southern/texas drawl), horror, height/size difference, cheating/affair, enemies to lovers, slow burn romance, spooky small towns, post apocalyptic/dystopia, crime/mysteries, emotionally charged/dark and gritty, bodyguard x assignment, forced proximity, opposites attract, fated mates, anti heroes/morally gray characters, traumatic pasts, grumpy x sunshine, one bed, men who simp over their women, touch her / him and die, and more.
I have lots of original plot ideas in mind as well!
Fandoms (OCs ONLY) 
Star Wars, Stranger Things, Mercy Thompson Series, True Blood, The Last of Us, Hunger Games
I write only on discord using servers with organized channels. Like this post or add me on discord (magicofrain) if you’re interested. The most effective way to grab my genuine interest is by messaging me as if we've been friends for years. Please let me know which interests you liked from my ad.
.
0 notes
vixeneptune · 5 months
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Miss steal the spotlight 🌟
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Star girl effect ✨️
Everywhere I go , they all know my name. A girl like me can never go unnoticed with her magnetic personality and tantalising beauty. I was born with star quality and my aura shines bright, it catches everyone's attention. I'm the ultimate fantasy, I'm a star girl, im everyone's dream girl.
There's something about me that stands out which is why im known as an IT GIRL, I'm unique and unforgettable, I stick in people's minds with my powerful presence and my addictive beauty, and I naturally inspire them. Im so iconic that people try to copy me bc they're so inspired by me, but no one does it better than me 💅🏻
I'm easily the most charismatic icon, my presence alone has people fangirling about me. Idk why, but my energy is so addictive everyone ends up being obsessed with me the moment they see me, or meet me, or even hear about me. People love bringing me up in conversations talking about how pretty , smart, lucky, rich, and attractive I am. They literally brag about knowing me or being in my presence bc it's a privilege to know me personally.
My reputation is powerful, I'm known as the prettiest, most desired girl. The girl both men and women swoon over and simp for. The girl everyone falls in love with. In a group I'm always the one who steals the spotlight, not only do I catch people's attention but also their interest bc im so intriguingly mysterious. They'd literally beg for my attention like "please notice me!!😭" like whys everyone so desperate for me?
I have secret admirers everywhere I go. Everyone can't help but fall under my spell, they crave my presence ,they yearn for me, they're constantly seeking my attention and validation. People keep inviting me bc my presence alone makes everything 10000x times better , they love having me around. Im such an entertainer. I'm the life of the party, the main event, the main character and the main attraction. I'm a magnetic force and a powerful goddess. People feel lucky and blessed to even know me.
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queers-gambit · 5 months
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Love What You've Done with the Place
song by Rascal Flatts
prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 1.8k+
warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.
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It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.
So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.
It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.
Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.
His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.
Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.
He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.
Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.
He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.
"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."
"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.
"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."
He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.
"What?" You giggled.
"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."
You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.
Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.
But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.
This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.
He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.
It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.
When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.
How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.
The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.
"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."
"Fuck off with that!"
"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"
Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "
"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"
It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."
This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."
Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.
It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.
However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.
Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.
It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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zephyrrr101 · 1 month
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Not like her
Pairing: Daemon x niece reader
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Warning: Targcest/incest, DUBCON?, size kink and breeding kink light, mention of somnophilia, slight manipulation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, first intercourse, sweet Daemon, Daemon being a soft uncle hubby.(Because I simp) All ASOIAF warnings. MINOR DNI (but do with hungry bitches care?) also not proof read. High Valyrian translation might or not be wrong.
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You looked around the Throne Room which had now was filled with hoards of people, All the nobles have made there way to King’s Landing to attend your sider sister, Rhaenyra’s wedding to your cousin Ser Laenor Velaryon. It was a match made out of convenience, you had known that.
Father had not told you much, nor had your maids and lady companions, all having been sworn to silence by your father. But it didn’t take much for news to not get to your ears. Red Keep was never able to keep gossips.
Apparently, Rhaenyra had been seen beyond the walls of Rad Keep during hour of wolf with someone in unseemly situations. There were no proofs that anyone had, but it had been enough for your father to set this betrothal to push the rumours away.
They weren’t rumours.
It was your sister’s sworn shield who had been the man who Rheernyra had shared her bad with that night. She had spoke to you of this a week after, since you broth were always close, your mother’s death bringing you even closer. You did not mind. Several lords went around having bastards, women too laid with men before marriages, you knew of it, why must Rhaenyra be kept from something she wanted But your sombre mood was not for your sister’s situation. Rhaenyra was strong and she welcomed things in her life with courage, even this marriage. Your issue was that your father, after he had talked with Rhaenyra, had a conversation with you too. You will be wed by the next year to a man of your father’s choosing. He did not seem to want another one of his daughters going and finding trouble.
You had hoped your father would give you the same liberty of choosing your husband that was given to Rhaenyra. You would not had minded choosing, you weren’t picky. You were a second daughter, getting many in a good family was always supposed to be your job. But you would have rather preferred if you could have a little bit of choice in it.
Thank you, Rhaenyra, I love you. But you fucked it up for me, Fuck you.
“Something on your mind, sweet niece?” You turned to Daemon who sat on your right. You were given the seat beside the Queen Alicent, not your preferable place, things between you and Alicent were awkward. She was your sister’s friend turned step-mother. You didn’t talk much, it was weird.
You sighed, turning to your uncle, who had come back from his trip to Stepstones a few days back. He had proven is determination when it came to the barren land. He had won it and now with your father’s blessings looked after the protection of Westros from there, visiting the place some times. “Father is setting up my betrothal.”
Daemon frowned, you could tell he was not happy, Daemon had been a constant in your and Rhaenyra’s life even of he was banished half of the time, more to you. While Rhaenyra had your father, you had your uncle. “Who?”
“I cannot say,” You fiddled with your cup of wine, you had lost your focus, drifting off in solace of solitude. “Father has not told me. But he says I will be wed by this time next year.”
Daemon did not reply. And you turned your attention to middle of room, Rhaenyra and Laenor had started to dance. You tipped your cup up, finishing your wine in one go you did not notice anything after that.
You did not notice how Daemon’s hand clenched around his cup as he glared at anything he could see, how his lilac eyes would fall over you, locking at your distressed race, how he counted each line that marred your forehead, how your tongue had slipped out of your mouth to catch the stray drop of wine and how licked it, your red tinged tongue moving over your lips wetting them. And you certainly did not notice the way he gripped Dark Sister’s pommel when Ser Harwin had come to ask you for a dance and you had agreed, leaving with the large dark haired knight.
No you did not.
You danced with other lords but again found Your way to Ser Harwin, or he did to you.
He spoke something to you, learned down so only you could hear him, Daemon could only imagine how he would be taking in your scent of jasmines, such a calming fragrance.
You nod.
He could not hear you from the distance but he had been around you for a lot longer to imagine how sweet your laughter must be in Strong knight’s ears.
This was it.
Daemon slammed his cup on the table, gathering attention of a few people around him and walked away, his brother’s cautioned words, blurred in his ears.
Ser Harwin was telling you about his tales of City Watch, how he sometimes sees the most hilarious things. Your favourite being the one where a certain lord was hit and thrown out of a pleasure house by one the workers and Ser Harwin had found him crying drunk with a bruised cheek. You had not noticed Daemon’s presence until he asked Ser Harwin if he could have a dance with you.
Who was he to say no to a seasoned warrior and dragon rider who could burn him to ashes if declined what he wanted.
“Ziry issa?” Is it him? Daemon asked you, you had well spotted the frown on his face and anger that was flowing in his lilac eyes. Something you could not comprehend.
“Skoros?” What?
Daemon takes your hand his, you let him guide to where ever he wants to, which happens to the farthest part of the dancing area, lesser people are here and you understand that whatever it must be that he wants to speak of he doesn’t want other to hear.
“Harwin,” He looks away from you and you follow his eyes, finding them on your father. It takes a moment for you to realise what he is asking.
“gimin daor,” I don’t know. You sighed. “It doesn’t matter does it, kepus? I must trust Father in his choice.”
“Your father’s choice?” He whispered, you could feel his breath tickling on your neck. “Look at this choice of his. Laenor is a good man but he will bore your sister senseless. And let us not forget his tastes.”
“It’s not that I don’t wish to marry, kepus,” You mutter, you suddenly found his doublet more interesting than the music or the dance. “But...”
Daemon hummed, his hand softly drew circles on the small of you back, you felt a shiver going through you.
“I understand politics but... I’d rather not be used as a pawn for gain without my say. At least without me knowing who I will be tied to for my whole life. I love my father, I really do,” you sighed, your eyes fell on your father and Alicent sitting beside him in a green dress. This wedding looked more like a disaster. “Look how miserable Alicent is. I do not wish to be another Alicent, kepus.”
Daemon listened to every word that left your mouth keenly. He embedded all of them in his very soul. His niece, his sweet and young niece who had been nothing but kind to him despite everything he might have one that could have hurt her. Even when his brother had sent him away for giving a moniker to his dead nephew all those years before. She had come to say good bye to him. Told him how she did not care for a boy who she didn’t even knew and wished him a safe journey, His little doll who always came to him when she didn’t like the braids her maid would put in her hair and have him redo everything.
I do not wish to be another Alicent, kepus.
And he imagined you, sitting beside some very aged lord, with life span of no long than a few years, who didn’t seem to be caring about anything but the cup of wine in his hands, children standing beside you and one in your hands, all while you looked sullen.
No. He couldn’t let it happen, Not when he knew how marriages like that ended up being.
He smiled at you, one his hand grabbing yours and other one caressing the soft skin of your cheeks, He looked at you with such intensity, with such fondness that you couldn’t help but feet the heat crawling up your neck.
“You won’t end up like her.” He told you and you knew better than anyone that his words were not hollow. It was an unsaid promise.
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The wedding did turn out to be a disaster. Rhaenyra’s sworn shield had murdered Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, an event which had led to a rushed marriage between Rhaenyra and Laenor. As soon as the chaos erupted, your uncle had pulled you away towards the doors of the hall since you both were closer to it than the royal table.
The stress had caused your father to collapse and another thing had come to light some disease was eating him alive and now he had lost his arm.
In all, the day had been a like riding a wild dragon.
From what you could tell it was past midnight. And you could think of nothing better than trying to put yourself to sleep. It hadn’t taken much too. As your head hit the pillow and darkness engulfed you.
You had been sleeping deeply and peacefully. The tiring and stressed moments of the wedding had lulled you like an infant after having drunk a tummy full of milk.
You could not understand what it was that had woken you up. You felt hot. Surely it wasn’t winter and days in King’s Landing were hot sometimes but not so much to cause her such bother. Though it was not enough to cause you to get out of your sleepy reverie.
You let out a whine when you felt something moving over you leg and your shoulder, making you pull your leg away and shake your shoulder to put whatever was causing you discomfort away. The point between your legs felt wet, making you a bit worried about your moon blood but you were too far gone in sleep to care.
It was the wine you had drank like water before going to sleep. Curse the fucking thing.
It was a sound, something like a chimes that hit each other when wind flowed, that made you snap out of our daze a little bit. You forced you eyes your to open as much as they could which wasn’t a lot. You were drunk and sleepy. But you could recognise that voice and figure even in your blurred sight.
“Kepus?”
Daemon smiles at you. There were very few people who had seen him really smile genuinely. You were one of them. But this smile was different. There was something different about it. You couldn’t comprehend it.
Daemon hushed you, his hand softly laying you back again, It was then when you slowly started to come to sense. He was hovering over you and you felt his other hand between your legs, right on your...
“Kepus, what are you doing?” You almost shrieked, understanding what was going on, “Kepus, what—"
“Be quiet, sweet girl,” Daemon whispered, and leaned down, his lips falling on your cheeks, so, so close to your lips. His fingers circling your cunny, a place that was not supposed to be bare to anyone but your husband. “You didn’t want to be a pawn, right?”
“But-but Daemon—” whatever you were thinking of saying was long forgotten when you felt his his finger entering you, your breath hitched at the foreign sensation. “We shouldn’t.” You whispered, you weren’t sure if you had spoken it or if it was in your mind only.
“And why?” His voice low, you felt as if you were speaking of some centuries old secret with him. “I promised you that I wouldn’t let you be married just like this. I will keep my promise, sweet niece.”
“Daemon,” you whispered, your denial was dying on your lips with him adding another finger in you, his thumb rolling around your nub and his lips on your neck. He hummed and those were the sweetest vibration you had ever felt on your skin, a shiver passing from the junction of your neck and shoulder to your core. Some cold wind had not caused this. This you know. It was him, your kepus who did this.
Your hands went to his shoulders, bare shoulders, he did not have his tunic on. Your skin touching his warm one. He was always warm. Like a dragon. “Please,” you gasped feeling his fingers go deep in you and you squeezed his shoulders.
His fingers moved faster in you, his teeth biting at your ear, “Is this what you are asking, sweetling?”
If only you knew what you wanted. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to let go of this feeling. “Yes-fuck-kepus!” You moaned feeling his fingers curl in you. And then another on being added.
“Don’t worry,” Daemon kissed your forehead, and you realised how really small you were in front of his tall stature. Even laying he could easily reach you forehead when his fingers were far down. “Kepus will take care of. Always.”
You knew he would. Mayhap, it was that fact that you had not called out for someone.
You felt your lower abdomen clenched, you weren’t sure it was. It felt as if someone was pulling at it but from inside. And somehow it felt good too. “Kepus, Kepus, there...”
“I know, sweet girl,” his fingers moved in you even more faster, and that was all you could feel. “Let go. Just let go.”
His thumb softly pressed on your nub and you gasped.
Something washed over you, something ecstatic. You felt free. Just like when you were on dragon back.
You panted, feeling as if you were knocked out of breath. Maybe you were. You look at Daemon, as he softly pulls his fingers out of you, putting them in his mouth, you couldn’t help the heat on your face when you remembered that it was your arousal that he was happily sucking off his fingers.
You looked at him in daze, everything seemed hazy for a few moments. Daemon leaned over you, his knuckles brushing your cheeks before his lips dropped on yours.
They were surprisingly soft, you had always imagined him having a hard touch but here he was, touching you as if you were made of glass, that you would break at the slight wrong caress. You felt his tongue on your lips, and you opened, letting his soft muscle of his mouth melt into yours.
You let him do what he wished to for some moments, unaware of what you were supposed to do but it didn’t take you long to catch up and you moved your tongue against his, you felt losing breath by every moment though nothing seemed to matter. It was heaven where Daemon was taking you. And you did not want to fall down from there.
“Fuck!” You heard Daemon curse as he parted from you, and his lips fell on your jaw and something hard rubbing your core. Your hips bucked up, unconsciously and you moaned. “Stop doing that, sweet girl,” Daemon spoke, his lips were moving down and down from your jaw to your neck, his hands pushing the sleeves of your slip down, his mouth leaving wet trails between your breast.
“kepus,” you were too lost. Your uncle looked like one of those Gods of Old Valyria. So beautiful, his burnt skin like stars on the dark sky. Your hands wrapped around his arms, feeling his full strong muscles, your finger traced the healed wounds, you felt your inside twist and turn. “kepus,”
Daemon pulled away, his eyes were dark, almost pitch black, he was sat between your legs. When did that happen you weren’t aware. You chest heaved as you took each breath greedily and watched his hands moving to his breeches’ laces, pulling them and he shed off them off. You eyes were on him, whole of him and your breath hitched.
So lost in the sight of him you didn’t know when he came back and kissed you, until his cock rubbed into you and you moaned. “Kepus,”
“Shh. It’s alright.” He whispered, his hips moved, you could feel him even when he wasn’t inside you. “Fucking hells, you are wet. You want this just much, don’t you?”
You didn’t get to answer him, feeling his head on your entrance, at this moment.
“This will hurt, sweetling.” Daemon kissed your forehead, his hands brushed your cheeks and hair just like when he wanted to comfort you at any peril of your. “but it will become better. I will make it all better.” And with that he pushed inside you, slowly, and you felt yourself stretching around him as he moved in slow, sucking in breath sharply and curses leaving his mouth, all faded to you.
He wasn’t lying when he said to would hurt. “kepus,” Your nails dug into his shoulders and he kissed your cheek with caressing your head all the while.
“Good girl, such a sweet girl, taking my cock so nicely.” You could hear his groans loud and clear even when he was speaking softly and slowly. “so tight, so firm. But you will take it, won’t you?”
You didn’t answer but hid your face in his neck, tightening your hold on him. You felt tore apart, yet you didn’t want to let go. “so big, kepus,” you whispered as he continued to bottom himself inside you and he kissed your neck saying words of praises.
It felt like hours when he stopped, Daemon by then had bit on your neck several times, you felt as if you’d had bled, but there was no worry about it. He won’t hurt you. You knew.
“Open your eyes, love,” He whispered and you did, he was just a hair width away from you and you could look at his eyes so clearly, his pools of lilac, light than that was your. You wished to have his eyes in your childhood.
He kissed you again and you kissed back. You couldn’t have enough of his mouth on yours, the taste of yourself and the wine mixed in both of your mouth was so sweet to you.
“Come to Dragonstone with me,” His forehead touched yours. Both of you were breathing each other in, “Take me to husband and I will take to you wife, in tradition of our house. You won’t be like her. Ever.”
You won’t be like her, he said. And you knew he was true to his words. He will be. He will not. Not like Alicent.
Not like her.
“Avy jorraelan, Kepus.” I love you, uncle.
Daemon smiled. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen in your life. “Avy jorraelan, donus rinus.” I love you, sweet girl.
Daemon moved in you, slow at first, so deep, you moaned at each stroke, every time his hips met yours, you couldn’t help but cry out first in discomfort and then in pleasure.
His lips descended upon your breast, taking your nubs in his mouth, he suckled at one like a babe hungry for their mother’s milk, his other hand playing with your other and his hips pushing into yours. You couldn’t hear anything but his grunt and groans and your moans and whimper.
Daemon held your legs, putting them around his waist. If you thought he was deep before, he was reaching way inside you.
“This cunt, your cunt was made for me, sweet girl. Look how good it take me. Even when you were asleep. Getting wet for me. It knows it’s mine. You know that too, don’t you?” you ought to feel humiliated and offended at such words. Being owned by some was not something you liked. But the way Daemon said it only made you clench harder around him making him groan, “fuck, yes. Yes, you do.”
“Yes. Yes, Kepus.” You whimpered at his fast pace inside you. Lost in the world of pleasure you were, you couldn’t hold your noises anymore. But of course you uncle would remedy it for you, putting his lips on yours, drinking every single sound in which left your mouth.
You clenched, your hands in his hair, pulling at them, feeling the tugging feeling as before in you. Daemon knew it all well.
“Going to give you my seed and you will swell with our child, sweet,” Daemon muttered in your ear. You felt yourself liking the prospect. Even imagining it in your head as your uncle rutted in you.
Our child.
“Yes”, you nodded, kissing his neck, “a babe, Kepus. With your eyes. I love your eyes.”
“Whatever, my sweet girl wants.” He grunted and you clenched on him again.
“Fuck, kepus.” You moaned, you were sure by now you had scratched his back bloody. “I... I feel it. It hurts.”
“I know, sweetling,” he muttered, “Let go. Just like before. Let it go.”
It wasn’t long you felt the same bliss wash over you and you felt warmth fill you in. Daemon’s seed, you knew it was as you both panted. Daemon stopped moving inside you after a few more strokes, but he did not pull out. He lowered himself to your bed and pulled you on him.
You rested your head on his chest, some silver hair, rubbing against your cheek, you took in the scent of his sweat, his skin glistening under the moonlight that fell in your room.
You felt him pull the sheet over the both of you, his hand running over your hair and exhaustion began to take over you. Your eyes drooped but you kept blinking the sleep away.
“Sleep,” Daemon kissed your head and you fell asleep just as quick as you had woken up, you hands wounded around his neck.
You prayed it not to be a dream.
495 notes · View notes
bimbobaggins69 · 11 months
Text
Heavy metal parking lot
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eddie munson x metal head fem!reader
summary: the last thing you ever expected was to hit it off with a cute guy at a Judas Priest concert, but stranger things have happened.
warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, all porn almost no plot, no use of y/n, use of pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl etc.), smoking the devils lettuce, queer!eddie, reader has nipple piercings, dom/sub dynamics, some degradation (but eddie is still a simp), oral (m receiving), unprotected rough p in v sex (this is fantasy, pls don’t have unprotected sex with strangers), anal play (f receiving).
notes: just a dirty little one shot. Sorry, there will not be a part two. Thank you to my loves: @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can & @stwritings for beta reading <3 also, blame @bettyfrommars & @xxhellfiregirlxx for me posting this filth on our holy day.
wc: 3.1k
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This was a stupid idea, stupid, stupid.
But here you are driving to the market square arena, an hour away from home, dead in the middle of a scorching summer, alone.
You had this elaborate plan for months, ever since you had bought your tickets. You and your best friend Abbee were supposed to meet up at your house, get ready together, go grab some fuel and head to the show a little early to hang out in the parking lot. That unfortunately is not what ended up happening. You got ready…alone, got food…alone and now you’re making the trip…alone.
You can’t be mad at your friend, she did have a very valid excuse as to why she was unable to make it. You couldn’t help but to kick yourself for never being brave enough to put yourself out there and make new friends, but maybe that would change, maybe you would meet some cool people at the show, some Judas Priest fans seemed like the perfect place to start.
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The parking lot was jam packed, men and women in all their Judas Priest or Dokken gear, huge banners held out by adoring fans, beer cans littering the lot as weed and cigarette smoke fog the air.
You finally find parking, lucky for you it seems to be the last vacant spot left, squeezed tight between a red Camaro and a brown van.
Better than nothing.
As you exit your black Honda accord, your eyes flit around the lot, taking in your surroundings as you breathe in the second hand smoke.
“Hey, sick shirt.” A gruff voice towards your left calls out. You look around for a second before your eyes finally land on the owner of the van that's parked beside you.
His brown wavy hair gets hit by a gust of wind, as if he’s some hot character in one of those movies that the protagonist is in love with. You definitely couldn’t deny his hotness.
His defenders of the faith shirt clung to his body like a second skin, tight dark blue jeans with a chain adorned his lower half along with white reeboks.
He had a joint perched between his two fingers as his eyes so boldly roamed your figure.
“Thanks,” you acknowledge, as you look down at your ‘hell bent for leather’ cropped tee, and then back up to meet his mischievous smirk. “Yours is sick, too.” You offer in a small but cheerful voice.
“You wanna come smoke with me, pretty girl?” He offers as the mischievous smile grows, like the grinch who stole Christmas.
“Uhh, sure why not?” You shrug, making your way over to the van and taking a seat on the red carpeted floor, your leather mini skirt now hiked up around the very tops of your thighs while your knee high boots hang out the side, resting on the asphalt below you.
“I’m Eddie.” He declares while holding out a heavily ringed hand, you stare it down ogling between his tattoos, black nail polish and badass rings before placing your smaller appendage in his, you firmly shake it with a smile as you tell him your name.
“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He chuckles before handing you the dwindling joint.
You take a hit while you let your eyes wander around the inside of his van, a small mattress set up with a colorful quilt and two fluffy pillows.
Various magazines of the adult variety scrawled out haphazardly on the floor, a six pack of coors lite sits on the arm rest between the two front seats, breaking the law plays out through the speakers.
Though he’s not the only one, various Judas Priest songs could be heard throughout the stadium's parking lot.
You take another small hit, passing back the now roach sized spliff. Eddie tries to get one more hit out of it, before throwing it to the ground and stepping on it with the toe of his white sneaker.
You begin to stand up with the thought that you may be overstaying your welcome, until Eddie puts a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“You don’t have to go.” The shy look on his face is the total antithesis of his cocky demeanor when he’d first waved you over.
“Oh, okay. I just didn’t want to bother or keep you from anything.” Your response is sheepish and the butterflies in your belly begin fluttering about.
“No baby, you're not keeping me from anything.” He beams.
That damn nickname pulls you in like a moth to a flame.
As you and Eddie grow better acquainted, you realize he has a great sense of humor with an eccentric personality.
You also quickly realize you want him.
Right here in the back of his van.
You scoot your bottom back, making your way into the wagon. The action causes your skirt to roll up further along your thighs, giving Eddie the perfect glimpse of your black panties.
You swing your feet inside and hoist yourself up on your knees, as graceful as possible. Waddling over like a penguin to fling yourself onto the mattress that had your mind wandering.
“Mmm, this is comfy.” You sigh with a smile, as your body burrows deeper into the off white sheets below you.
Eddie stands just outside the door, eyes unable to leave your backside as you cuddle up on his mattress. ‘Was this his lucky day?’ This shit never happens to him, well at least not with women anyway. He had better luck with men.
Thank you Judas Priest, Eddie silently prays to the sky before making his way inside the vehicle to join you.
“Mind if I lay down?” He mumbles, surprising you with his close proximity.
You turn, catching onto the puppy dog eyes he’s giving you; and what you would give to have them looking down at you while he’s working your body to sweet, sweet release.
“No, of course not.” You giggle, the sound makes Eddie twitch in his pants.
He was a sweet boy, you wanted him to fucking ruin you.
You turn to face him, head resting on your palm as you pat the spot beside you.
The sly smirk returns as he lays down on the mattress, mirroring your exact position.
“Shows gonna start in an hour.” He whispers, scooting in closer towards you, the warmth radiating off of his skin is sending your body into a frenzy.
“Mm, so we have enough time?” You sweetly whisper back.
“Enough time for what? Hmm?” Your bodies continue to gravitate together, a pull so strong it was like you were both attached to magnets.
“For this..” you breathily huff before straddling Eddie’s waist, the groan that escapes him makes your eyes roll back, as you begin to grind down on his growing erection.
“Fuck” Eddie hisses as his hands fall to your waist, now controlling your movements and pulling you in deeper.
“That’s exactly what I intend on doing.” The air gets caught in your throat as a small laugh leaves your lips, your clit catching on rough denim fabric, Eddie swears every time you giggle it’s like an angel gets its wings. It’s sweet and soft, just like you.
You lean in closer, soft plump lips meeting yours in a tangle of tongues, it’s hot and desperate as you are for each other.
Eddie moans into your mouth as your movements get more daring, practically bouncing on his clothed lap. His eyes quickly flicker to your tits as they jiggle with each bounce, it’s clear you’re not wearing a bra, and the idea makes Eddie’s mouth water and his cock stiffen. It feels the hardest it's been since he took a dick in his ass for the very first time. He needs to be inside you and he hopes you're willing to give him that, he’ll do anything for it, at this moment. He feels like a desperate idiot; but he is, he really is so fucking desperate for you.
You immediately notice the way Eddie’s eyes have been trained on the perky slopes of your breasts, with an ever growing smirk you take the hem and hike the shirt up and over your head to be discarded on the red carpet of his van.
“Holy shit!” Eddie practically pants, like a dog who’s out of water.
His decorated hands move up from your hips as they begin to tweak at your nipples, nimble fingers rubbing over the double balled jewelry that sits on each hardened peak.
“Fuck, such pretty tits!” He groans “and they’re pierced, Jesus.” Eddie was enthralled, absolutely fucking enthralled by you.
You lean down, planting soft kisses to Eddie’s long, beautiful neck, leaving behind remenits of your red lipstick and spit soaked bruises.
“Mmm…” he hums as you suck and bite at a spot under his ear lobe.
“Please, fuck me.” You breathily murmur into his ear, before you lift yourself back up using his pecs as leverage, eyes meeting his as you gauge his reaction to your plea.
“You sure, baby?” He whispers before leaving a sloppy kiss to your jaw.
“I’m so sure, please Eddie.” The way you moan his name as you beg for him creates something feral inside of Eddie, his eyes now glazed over into something dark, his jaw tightens as he grabs two rough handfuls of your ass, that are now exposed while your skirt sits carelessly on your lower back.
His right hand slowly glides up your body and into your hair, quickly tightening his fingers around the strands at the base of your neck.
“You want my cock, princess?” He challenges through his teeth.
“Yes, mmhmm, so bad!” You insist with a shout, having your hair pulled has always made you drip between your legs.
“Then go on.. take my cock out, you cock hungry little slut.” He growls as his fingers wrap tighter around your hair before quickly pulling his hand away, he gives your ass one hard spank before he’s back to grabbing at the meat.
You make quick work of his handcuff belt, unbuttoning and swiftly pulling down the zipper before dipping your thumbs into the waistband of both his boxers and jeans and peeling them off, leaving both garments to sit around the tops of his knees.
The sight you’re met with causes you to gasp, he has to be at least 9 inches, it was red and throbbing, wetness from his precum already saturating the mushroom tip.
“Like what you see, baby?” He brags with a smirk that could make Satan himself shiver.
“You’re so pretty, every part of you.” You admit as you lick your bottom lip, with hunger in your eyes.
Eddie wraps a ringed hand around the base of his cock, vulgarly slapping the air with it,
“Where do you want it, huh sweetheart?” His grunt made more slick pool from your needy cunt.
Showing is better than telling, so you plant your knees between his thighs, bringing your face mere inches from his pulsing hard sex.
“Holy fuck, are you gonna—” his eyes roll back as your tongue glides up the underside of his cock, before wrapping your lips around his tip. “No girl has ever given me head.” He huffs while throwing his head back.
You let go of his cock with a wet pop, “no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” You scrunch your face up in confusion, there’s no way he’s never been treated to some head, that would be a travesty.
“I have, j-just not by a-a women.” He stutters out in embarrassment, as his face flushes a bright red that travels down his neck.
It takes you a second to understand what he means, “oh” was all you said, before shrugging and getting back to work on his tip.
He smiles down at you, pulling all of your hair out of your face and holding it together in a makeshift ponytail as he gently guides your head up and down on him, until you’re taking him deeper, so deep your nose is now brushing against the curly hairs at his base, you swallow his tip down before you begin rapidly moving and twisting your head as if a women possessed.
“Oh my— whoa, fuck baby!” He keens into the stuffy air of the van, “your mouth feels so fucking good!” He begins rapidly pumping his hips up, fucking your throat as spit strings fall to his balls, you reach a hand out and begin massaging them, making him growl in pleasure.
“Okay baby, okay angel please, please stop.” Eddie whimpers as he pulls you off of his cock, the spit on your lips remains connected to Eddie’s tip.
He rubs over the messy swollen flesh with the pad of his thumb, as he hums in satisfaction.
“All fours, now.” He commands before shifting up and onto his knees, you crawl further up the mattress, finally laying your head against the sheets that were now dampened by his back, you arch your ass up while making sure your stomach was equally lowered, the position causing your ass to stick out more for him.
“Good girl.” He praised before giving your ass another harsh slap. “Let’s get these off of you.” Eddie slides your black thong over your butt and down your legs, slowly pulling them off from around your feet.
He throws your panties towards the front of the driver's seat, the black fabric lands perfectly on his dashboard. “M’keepin’ those.” He chuckles.
You’re so lost in desire, that someone could’ve told you Rob Halford himself was out signing autographs and you wouldn’t have bat an eyelash or made any attempts to move.
“Fuck, look at these pretty holes.” Eddie groans while running the tips of his fingers from your clit up towards your asshole. “You like getting all of your holes filled, princess?” He smirks at the way your body reacts to him and how loud you moan at his words.
Your ‘yes’ is muffled by the mattress, Eddie’s having none of it.
SLAP!
“Speak up!” He grumbles, before taking both cheeks roughly in his hands and spreading them.
“Yes! I love it!” Your wail has Eddie’s smirk growing more devilish
“I know you do.” He mocks as his middle finger teases your entrance, he causes your body to writhe and groan in desperation by slipping just the tip of his finger in and out of your aching hole.
Finally after all of his teasing, he slips his full finger inside, pumping in and out at a splitting speed.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He gasps while resting his head on your backside as he still works you with his finger, finally slipping another one in and scissoring them in an attempt to stretch you out.
He hasn’t even fucked you, yet you’re still an incoherent mess as slobber begins to pool on the sheets below your face.
His head starts to slowly move closer to where you’re spread, you gasp and wiggle when you feel his wet tongue slowly lick over your puckered hole.
“Oh fuck!” You blubber, the action making you clench around Eddie’s fingers.
“Mm, oh you like getting your asshole licked?” He scoffs in a teasing tone “it feels good, doesn’t it?”
All you can do is nod and sob into his cheap cologne smelling sheets.
Slowly slipping his fingers out as he moves in closer, replacing his digits with his throbbing cock.
“You ready, princess?” He surveys as he runs his calloused hands up and down your back, gently rubbing at your soft skin.
“Mmhm, I’m ready.” You consent while lifting your head to get a good look at him as he slides into you.
His tip begins breaching your entrance as your eyes remain locked on each other, you and Eddie’s brows are both furrowed and jaws slack as he pushes in deeper.
“Oh, fuck!” Eddie growls as he continues to stretch you out. If he were to die in this very moment, he would die a happy man, the way your pussy is squeezing and choking him; he’s fucked tight assholes, but never a pussy this tight and he thinks it might be his new favorite thing, the way you get so effortlessly wet and the ridges on your walls that stimulate his cock so sensationally. The weed makes his mind go to some weird places; maybe I found some kind of holy grail pussy? He shakes his head of the weird thoughts beginning to plague his mind.
“Yes, right there!” Your screeching brings him back down to this dimension, making him drive deeper and pound harder into you, hitting that spongy spot over and over until you’re shaking underneath him, knees almost buckling at the intense pleasure that is now conquering your body. His fingers are pressed so deep into the skin of your upper thighs, that you’re positive they’ll be bruised by tomorrow.
“Right there?” Eddie mockingly smirks as he hits it over and over with his tip, “that your spot, baby?”
Your “mmhmm” comes out so whiny and desperate, he knew you were close and so was he but he needed to see you fall apart first.
Eddie quickly brings his thumb up to his lips, the calloused finger dipping into his mouth as he sucks, getting it all nice and wet before you feel it prodding your unused hole, he begins thrusting faster as his digit reaches the second knuckle. “Oh my god, you have the tightest fucking holes.” He sounds so out of breath and fucked out by this point, his loud groans, filthy words and extra finger are making you reach that peak of toe curling completion at a hurdling speed.
“I’m gonna cum.” You whine as you begin to back up into his thrusts, making his cock and finger hit deeper depths.
“Yes, cum for me baby.” He urges as he’s on the precipice of his own high.
“Yes, yes…” you babble as your body tenses, uncontrollably shaking as you come undone, Eddie’s thumb continues to work your asshole, while he fucks you through the most intense orgasm you’ll probably ever have.
“I-I’m coming baby, fuck!” Eddie shouts before he pulls himself out of your tight heat, hand maniacally working his cock until his warm seed spurts into your stretched out asshole.
“Holy shit!” He groans while his body falls over yours, you both begin to laugh until you hear someone pound their fist on the side of the van.
“Hey, Eddie—” you gasp at the disturbance, eyes going wide when you catch a glance at the metalhead, “the show's about to start man, everyone’s lining up at the door!” The raspy masculine voice calls out again, before you’re left in silence.
You and Eddie begin frantically getting dressed in hopes to get a good spot in line.
Once out into the fresh summer air, Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders, “you wanna watch the show with us, princess?” He proposes with a sweet grin, while lighting a cigarette.
You were right, a Judas Priest concert was the perfect place to make new friends.
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taglist:
@michellecrusher @ali-r3n @crybabyddl @definitelynotecho @ajkamins @daniellabrandt @bl4ckt00thgr1n
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cheesesoda · 1 year
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calling you out based on ur one piece comfort character/character you simp for
this is just for fun ! don’t take it too seriously :)
luffy : you’ve got some pretty serious abandonment and trust issues. you’ve been hurt so many times by friends over and over, to the point where you have kinda given up. you just want someone to love you unconditionally.
zoro : “i can fix him” b*tch no u can’t. you love the “he hates everyone but her” trope. you also want someone to protect you. and you probably hate sanji.
sanji : you’re really insecure and having sanji as your comfort character helps. you love that he loves all women. you want a man to be HEAD OVER HEELS in love with you, to appreciate you the way you deserve, to worship you.
ace : …daddy issues. whitebeard’s crew is probably your favorite crew. you—like the sanji fans—are probably very insecure. ace being insecure is comforting to you in a way. you just wanna give him a big hug and a kiss and tell him how amazing he is (me too). you like guys you can relate to, so ace; the insecure man with daddy issues, complements your insecure woman/enby/man/other with daddy issues. you might wanna drop the habit of liking men who are unattainable tho.
law : much like the zoro fans, you think “oh i can fix him” and you live for the “he hates everyone but me” trope. you probably got a thing for hands and tattoos/piercings and probably veins too. you’re extremely h0rny.
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fangirleaconmigo · 1 year
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You know what I think is missing from modern M/F ships? Women who Fuck Shit Up to protect the men they love.
Yes ok I’m queer and I love queer ships but I was thinking…I did used to have a M/F ship. I did love Mulder/Scully. What did they have?
It was this:
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This is like ep TWO and Scully finds out that someone has kidnapped Mulder and THIS is what she does to find and rescue him. LOOK AT THOSE EYES THE HOMICIDE IN THEM!
I feel like modern writers think feminism and Strong Female means that women characters have to be unimpressed and cool and so critical of the love interest that you can’t even tell she likes the guy.
Fuck that.
Because when that happens I COULDNT GIVE TWO SHITS About that ship. She doesn’t even like his ass!! She should find someone she likes!!
The only caveat of course is that you make the man someone who is worthy of her (I.e. he respects her mind, supports her dreams, is loyal etc)
David Duchovny was asked about the chemistry between them in 1996 and he said:
Do you play it like Fox has impure thoughts about Scully?
No, what I tend to play is that I always want to check with her. Whenever I hear something interesting, I’ll look at her. That’s sexy to people.
If you’ve established that he respects her, then yes she should be a fucking simp. Otherwise I am not rooting for them!!! Otherwise! I! do! Not! Care!
Scully believed in Mulder immediately! She didn’t believe in aliens but she believed IN HIM. She defended him from DAY ONE to the higher ups, she fought for him, she respected how he really listened and how he really cared about regular people getting fucked over by the government.
In the same interview, Gillian said:
I think what makes the relationship between Scully and Mulder sexy is the respect they have for one another. They don’t manipulate or take advantage of one another. I’m sure that’s very intriguing for the audience.
So yeah.
Real respect. Real devotion.
And a woman who will demolish a motherfucker for harming her man.
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diejager · 10 months
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hii!! Im new to your blog and i have been obsessed ever since~ i have a little req about the reader using contacts in the field but the task force doesn’t know she uses glasses so i’d like to know what would their reaction would be it can be also the monster au~
No pressure thoo, take the time you need. Keep up the good work love your stories 🥰
Oh! Then a very late welcome!🥰 I wore contacts before and I can promise you that your eyes dry out real fast, especially in dry and cold temperatures in Canada. Though they are more convenient than glasses.
Pairing : Monster!Task Force 141 x fem!reader
Cw: men simping for you, fluff. Wc: 1082
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For a human, you had good eyesight, even Gaz had said yours might’ve been one of the best he’s seen, especially for a sniper. You took down enemies within the blink of an eye as if you were born to build a nest and stay perched up for hours, scoping and hunting the enemy. You, for all the embarrassment you felt from the constant gush of compliments from them, wore glasses, needing them to see if you wanted to see anything at all. Faces blurred and shapes deformed without them, but wearing glasses while deployed was a danger. You’d had prescribed contacts ever since you started your training, paid by the military health assurance (contacts were expensive depending on the brands and the bests were exceedingly so). 
You got into the habit of wearing contacts even off duty since it made life easier to not worry about readjusting your glasses or cleaning them. The last mission in the arid desert of Urzikstan dried your eyes, even with the protective goggles, they weren’t impenetrable from the heat and dry atmosphere. You took your contacts off and showered, discarding them in the trash before you used your glasses, thick, squared lenses glued to a black frame. 
You went about your day as you usually did after that, wiping your foggy glasses before leaving your room (protective Price gave you a room with a bathroom included, he didn’t want any men or women following you into the public showers to spite them since you were the weakest link to the TF. Mostly from others peeking or watching you shower, he’s protective and possessive of his hoard.) to meet your brothers-in-arms in the Mess Hall.
Soap did a double take when he saw - smelled - you walk into the Mess Hall, blinking his wide eyes, mouth agape in shock. He took the time you spent reaching them to stare at you, adorably confused by the thick glasses over your nose. Shock followed his confusion, that their amazing sniper wore glasses. Had your eyesight been that great because of the contacts you wore? Or had it contributed to your reaction time and quick trigger finger? Passed his confusion and shock, was appreciation. You looked adorable in your black-rimmed glasses, it framed your face so well that he felt like snagging you to himself to stare and admire until you got sick of him. It made him wonder how well you could see without them.
Gaz, the harpy who praised you for your eyesight, was seemingly as shocked as Soap. He, however, recuperated faster, blinking away the questions before you sat down next to Ghost. He had questions but thought it better to leave it until you were both alone. He found you pretty in glasses, the square shape with rounded corners made you look younger than you were, resting on your nose with a slight droop. He did feel betrayed though. Learning that the person he praised so much wore glasses made him increasingly confused. You had one of the most precise aiming and timing he’d seen while being conscious of your handicap, and it never stopped you from performing well. 
Ghost knew you wore contacts and needed glasses to see outside of combat. Of course, he would, he’s searched your name on the database, he’s seen your file and read through it to find anything inconspicuously dangerous to them (a background on monster hunting or hate for monsters and hybrids). He hadn’t bothered to look up when you came in, striding to sit next to him with a schooled face, the corner of your lips threatening to curve upwards at Gaz and Soap’s shock. He, unlike you, could smirk outwardly, and he did. He’d never seen you with them, this was his first time, but you looked fine with and without glasses, cute even when you tried to adjust your slipping accessory. 
Price heard from them you wore glasses at super, Soap gushing about it like a lovesick, pubescent high schooler. He was the first to recommend you to Laswell after the higher-ups wanted to incorporate a human into the Task Force. He liked your history and you, you wore your older glasses in your picture, from years ago. They were rounder and made you look childish compared to the rounded square ones you currently wore. It was a mix between adorable and professional - the added factor that he found you increasingly sexy when you were deployed made him biassed on his beliefs of you being an eye candy for him and his boys - and you wore it well. Although he wished you’d wear them more often than on your late visits to turn in your mission reports, tired and posture slightly relaxed when you dropped by. 
Alejandro hadn’t searched your file when he knew you were a part of the Task Force he recently joined, he preferred the personal approach, to getting to know you firsthand before reading your file. He liked you as you were: efficient, warm and witty. Then your file made his eyes open, you wore glasses! He’s never seen you with them until this afternoon, striding in confidently with those warm eyes under the glistening lenses of your clean accessory. He realised you’d changed them, better suited on your face than your older ones. Corazón, that’s how he greeted you, smiling salaciously, the light gleaming over his dimpled cheeks. He was the beauty in your talent and your being, a true treasure to have on the TF.
Rudy, good ol’ Rudy, nearly blushed, as softhearted as he wore his heart on his sleeve. He tempted glances your way, starting pointless conversations to get to look at you. He admired your fluttering laces, gleaming eyes under the scope of your glasses and the lazy, yet appealing, drooping of your dark-rimmed accessory. Mija, he was tempted to call you, the words nearly slipping off his tongue as Alejandro had. He was more shy, his ears flushing lightly on the edges when you smiled at him (at all of them) when you sat down between him and Ghost. He didn’t question why you had glasses or how you performed so well with sight-related issues. He just wanted to see you wear them more often.
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edenesth · 7 days
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TWTHH Spinoff: Love to Hate You [Teaser]
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Pairing: royal secretary!San x female scholar!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Summary: San prided himself on his knack for building easy connections with women, viewing himself as a trusted ally for the opposite gender. Thanks to his deep bonds with his mother and sister, he possessed keen insights into the female mindset. Never did he imagine facing the ire of a woman, until he encountered a resolute female scholar with a strong dislike towards men.
A/N: Once again, special thanks to my one and only, my pookie, @itstheghostofmypast, for coming up with the main concept of San's spinoff.
Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist
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"I'm just trying to help, Scholar Moon," the royal secretary insisted, his arms emptying as the stack of books he was previously carrying was abruptly snatched away by the newly acquainted female scholar.
You scoffed in response, "I don't remember asking for your help, sir. I understand it must be quite intriguing to meet a female scholar for the first time. However, there's a reason I'm the first. I'm not your typical damsel in distress. I don't need saving. While you may be used to women swooning at your feet, rest assured, I won't be one of them."
San stood in stunned silence as he watched you storming off in a fit of anger, completely taken aback by your hostile response to his well-intentioned gesture.
He had stumbled upon you as you exited the royal library burdened with a stack of borrowed books, his innate helpfulness and gentlemanly nature immediately prompted him to offer assistance without hesitation. But rather than the customary grateful smile and expression of thanks he anticipated, he couldn't believe he was met with such an unexpected and vehement reaction.
Did I... do something wrong?
A court lady standing nearby widened her eyes in disbelief. "Did you seriously just say that? Do you even know who he is?"
You rolled your eyes dismissively. "Probably just a eunuch, why?" you retorted, waving off her concern. "I doubt any high-ranking officials would pay me any mind."
"Well, you're correct about that. He's not a high-ranking official, but he is someone close to the King. He's the royal secretary," she disclosed, causing your heart to nearly stop as you gaped at her.
He's the what?!
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I'll do my best to get the first part out as soon as I can! Hope you're excited about Sannie's spinoff hehe as always, let me know your thoughts on the concept! <3
Tag list (1/9): Tumblr is a bitch and won't let me mention more than 5 users in a single sentence, so now my tag list looks like a complete joke🤡
@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr |
@cheolliehugs @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline |
@green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive |
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@sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @myblovedjyh @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings |
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@scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa |
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@naps-over-degree @idfkeddieishot @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @jcalicocatj
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