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#hange x read
kringkroll · 3 months
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They got into trouble at Wu Shi, what else is new
Did they stop? (No)
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starry-bi-sky · 3 months
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miscellaneous danyal al ghul things
specifically about the danyal al ghul from my post/prompt here and i wanna get my misc. headcanons/thoughts on him (especially in his early stay with the fentons) out here before i make any other danyal al ghul aus
list under the cut because whoops this got longer than i expected. which really i should have expected
the Fentons are unaffiliated with the League, which was perfect for Danny faking his death.
he struggles with empathy. Empathy was not taught nor encouraged while he was with the League, so it's a skill that's been pretty stunted. At 15 he's better at empathizing with people, but he still struggles with it. He's pretty bad at reassuring/comforting people and usually acts as an emotional rubber duck for Sam and Tucker to vent to if need be. He sometimes offers blunt and sometimes mean opinions, especially if its about another person.
Sam and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin, they are however, pretty positive that he used to be part of an eco-fascist cult with a focus on martial arts?? They've been helping him tone down some of his more,,, extreme views on humanity ever since they caught wind of his more extreme ideologies.
He and Sam are still avid environmentalists and feed into each other quite a bit. They spend plenty of time at protests and pestering the school into more eco-friendly options.
Dash is not dead on the sole fact that Danny knew he had to lay low in Amity Park and killing someone was not, in fact, 'laying low'.
he did, however, traumatize him when Dash first tried to bully him. Safe to say, Danny is not bullied at school and neither are Sam and Tucker.
Danny didn't make any friends in his first year at Amity Park. He was surly, grumpy, standoffish, more stubborn than Sam, and pretty self-important about himself. Jazz was trying to teach him against these things, but she is a 12 year old unaffiliated with the League. Danny did not respect her nor listen to a word she said. It wasn't until like, year two that he finally started paying to mind what she was saying and slowly started to improve on himself
Sam approached him first, he rebuffed her quite harshly, and then Danny approached her sometime afterward when he overheard her talking about environmental rights. Sam completely ignored him though when he agreed with her, and Danny had to later learn that he needed to apologize for being rude to her when they first met. He did so eventually, and they started to talk more with Tucker and Sam.
Danny's a bit more reserved than he is in canon, although he steadily learns how to act as a regular teenager when he's out in public. He's a bit more friendlier at least, although when he's around Sam and Tucker he drops the act. He still has a somewhat formal way of talking, it's just become more casual after a lot of ribbing from Sam and Tucker. When he's angry or annoyed he starts talking poshly though.
His humor is relatively the same as in canon, if somehow dryer and more insulting at some points
Those rare moments where he gets really pissed usually ends up with him insulting someone in arabic or any of the other languages he picked up from the league. He is the go-to for Tucker's Spanish homework. (Tucker makes that mistake and learns that Danny is a very strict teacher)
while Danny doesn't view the Fentons as his parents, even five years after living with them, he does respect them to some amount. He respects them enough at least that when Vlad Masters comes sniffing around, he is suitably offended on both Maddie and Jack's behalf. And when he finds out Vlad was the one who tried to kill Jack and tried to tell him to renounce him as his father/parental guardian, danny threw a suitably sharp object at him and insulted him quite horrendously
Vlad still wants him as his kid. In fact perhaps even moreso after this.
Danny trains with Maddie to keep up with his training. It's not quite the same but it prevents him from getting completely rusty
Sam and Tucker know that Danny has a little brother, but nothing else beyond that other than Danny cares about him quite a lot and that he got his facial scar from keeping him safe.
Danny cares about Sam, Tucker, and Jazz quite a bit, but he struggles to convey it. Especially early on when he realized he cared about them and like instinct started being harsher to them and more critical of their actions. This resulted in quite a few arguments with Sam and Tucker and Jazz until he got sat down and told outright that the way he was treating them wasn't okay. It's a process he's still trying to unlearn even at 15. He has become kinder towards them as a result, and has begun looking for what they did right rather than what they did wrong.
He harbors a lot of guilt over how he treated Damian in the League, and its a pretty big conflict he has with himself since he's torn between telling himself it was for the best to make sure Damian survived the League, and feeling like crap over how harsh/critical of Damian he was and realizing that he probably could have come up with a better way of training him despite being a child himself at the time. Danny comes to the realization that more than anything, that he just wants to apologize.
His ghost form, specifically is outfit, is a combination of his hazmat suit and his uniform from the league, and he carries a sword with him. He also doesn't know how to react to Dani, honestly. Although it is fair to say that he figures out she's a clone instantly because of her whole 'I'm your third cousin once removed' thing and he freaks out. She spills the beans pretty quickly after that. And Danny is pretty skittish around her - or the equivalent of skittish. Her being younger than him kinda reminds him of Damian, so he's uncomfortable by her presence but learns to warm up to her.
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grimesgirll · 28 days
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like your weapons trainings or conditioning, getting to rick’s place for bedtime had become a nightly duty.
and okafor stressed the importance of being on time to you. after all, he needed his best soldier bright eyed and bushy tailed in the mornings.
you had to have your ass in rick’s bed by the time he was ready to hit the hay. it didn’t matter if he was planning on fucking you that night or just enjoying having another warm body around. okafor had clocked that you somehow increased the average hours of sleep rick gained each night and assigned you to a semi-permanent sleepover.
you watch from your elbows as the handsome man in front of you brushes his teeth.
this isn’t the first time okafor’s utilized your “girlish charm” or whatever the fuck he sees in you to get what he wants.
this is the farthest he’s ever asked you to go however. it was always innocent before; distracting important people, taking advantage of certain perversions to finish the mission. you shouldn’t complain. okafor did get you the job of your dreams, all things considered.
where else could you spend hours designing maps, establishing operation routes, and do it all with the help of formerly world renowned military engineers and some of the most advanced technology still left on the planet?
besides, the lieutenant colonel had kept his word; there isn’t a thing you want for at the moment. aside from the occasional homesickness which was gradually dulling into a numb, nearly nonexistent feeling, you didn’t yearn for much - only rick.
so now you spend your days in your new state of the art geospatial mapping studio and on your rare but highly anticipated surveying trips. okafor had reviewed your past surveying maps of the delaware valley with general beale and other senior staff - including rick - and your work proved fruitful enough to allow you a small team to continue surveying operations under the umbrella of logistics.
in all reality, okafor’s rewarding you handsomely.
and so is rick.
his southern drawl breaks you from your staring.
“huh?” utterly oblivious, you fall under his deep blue gaze.
“i asked you if i can turn the lights off." he repeats, fingers hovering over the light switch.
you nod. "yeah, i'm ready for bed."
the bed dips with rick's weight and like routine, you're drawn into his crushing embrace. rick liked to cuddle before bed. you don’t ask but there has to have been some wife or some woman somewhere who used to be in your position.
the soldier is stoic and stands on business, but that sour expression had begun to soften since you’d first seduced him on his sofa. little bits and pieces of a southern, east coast kind of background popped up through the twang of rick’s accent. anyone with a history with law enforcement instantly picked up on his past as a cop. you’d playfully asked if he had to cuff anyone before and just received a dim smile that started to sour until you threw yourself into his lap and cast away whatever storm clouds you’d brought on with kisses.
he’ll never outright tell you why he sleeps better with you or how he slept before he was even a consignee, but you don’t mind. the cozy embrace really gets you conked out every night, without fail. his dick does too.
that’s how you end up backing against him and tempting the hard outline that never seemed to disappear due to his size.
rick chuckles behind you but doesn’t move, just pulls you closer. "good night." he says with a kiss to the back of your head.
"night," you return, like you’re not jutting your ass backwards into him.
you’re shocked that he hasn’t said anything. rick doesn’t always take your touch so lightly. he’d punished you for teasing him in front of some of the air fleet’s officers by fingering you until you were begging to come in the repurposed law library next door just the other day.
the man only speaks up once your tight ass is rounding indisputable, deep circles against his groin. you couldn’t be anymore obvious with the gasp that flies out of you like a kite as soon as rick’s newly throbbing length twitches through his sleep pants.
“honey.”
“please, rick!” you pull out the begging already, having expected you would be fucked silly tonight.
“tonight’s not the night, darlin’.”
needy and craving the man beside you, your knees squirm. it’s only when you’re lightly kicking rick that he pays you any mind; your legs are shut closed by the force of his human hand and the prosthetic digging into your soft flesh.
the look he gives you is lacking patience. “now, what’re you doin’?”
“i need you tonight, rick,” you state plainly.
he scoffs and lets go of your thighs. “c’mon, honey, why don’t you just lay down and get a good night’s rest?” the gears are turning in your head and you’re lifting your legs and shifting between his legs before he can even try to draw you back to your pillow. he croaks your name when you start pawing at the drawstring of his pants. “honey, you need to-,”
“you need this,” you insist.
you’re not giving him enough time to complain with his sensitive head already on your tongue. rick curses his traitorous groans, and himself when he does nothing to fight against the firm hand you're utilizing to usher him onto his back.
"so, you want to relax?" he manages, despite the shudder inducing way in which fully go for it and swallow around him. midway down your throat, a light thrust and a near gag from you is all he needs to know your answer.
rick can only lean back and take what you give him. he's pretty sure that you're going to have him coming in your mouth but before he knows it, you’re face to face again. there’s no reason to be disappointed by the firm hold you still have on him with your hand. a few more sluggish licks and you’re readjusting, straddling him to tease his tip with the slick of your entrance.
"what about you?" rick’s rasping, not yet prepared after you removed him from your sweet mouth.
"what if i told you i came here ready?"
the statement has his cock jumping. you swivel slightly, clit bumping his own sensitive slippery skin. spit strewn, his head falls back at the feeling of his dick dipped into your engulfing heat - even half an inch.
“you sure, honey?”
“mhmm,” you confirm with a kiss and a grind onto him.
“really wanted it, didn’t you, darlin’?”
your confirmation comes out as a whimper. "i just wanna be full before bed. i wanna be full of you rick," and once those words leave your mouth, rick is decided and sending you from your knees to your back. he could never say no to those watery eyes.
a courtesy finger and some intricately placed kisses on your knees, thighs, and clit have you straining upwards. you're not burning for long because rick is ready to indulge you just as you wished tonight. without warning - not that you were wanting it tonight - rick fit himself as far inside your thick muscle as he could on the first thrust.
the stretch is familiar but striking enough for you to nearly double over onto him. you won’t fold in the face of your reward - at least not yet. determined to hold on, you plant two hands on the older man’s chest as you sink onto his thick length. his groans and your steady breaths are enough to lower yourself, and even fuck yourself you and down on him.
"thank you for fucking me tonight, rick." you cry through swollen lips and damp lashes. "i really need you to fall asleep," you confess in a tone no higher than a hushed hiss.
you don't know if you're expecting an answer but the quickened pace is to be expected. without a doubt, the man is sinking deeper inside of you as he forces his hips flush to yours.
"does this satisfy being full enough to fall asleep?"
the jolt he’s sending through your abdomen with each maddening plunge into you, has you fluttering around him.
“rick!”
you wake up with a hand on your ass and a breath behind you in your hair. it doesn’t last though. rick is gone before you know it and you’re left aching, craving him. you get him out of your system with your early morning physical training - pt - and a meal with your favorite fellow soldiers.
you’re not expecting to see rick again soon.
the office facing the arboretum and the airfield is typically a still place, plagued by the constant thrum of the planes and helicopters, yes, but those who worked in the building had grown accustomed to the white noise. you're so grateful everyone in your division is out at lunch when rick slams the thick wooden door open.
stirred from your half drafted map of the midwest, your head surges up. you don't have time to open your mouth before rick is talking at you in his sergeant's voice.
“there are ten minutes until i need to be down at the helicopter hanger. you need to get me off in eight.”
stunned, the command doesn't urge you to your feet just yet. it's the sudden slamming of the door that jostles you from desk to the plaid loveseat where you settle onto your knees on a cushion facing sideways.
rick shakes his head. "no, i want you on your knees on the floor in front of me. now." you sigh and carry yourself down to the polished wooden floors. "i don't have time to sit."
"why?"
"because what i said was an order. don't question it."
with that preamble, you waste no time finding his belt and expertly undoing the buckle in record time. your hands move as fast as they can given all of the work this bulky uniform requires. somehow you breeze through the layers and ignore the ache growing in your knees. your second pt of the day is going to destroy you.
as you strip down rick's thermal boxers, you wonder if he's keen on fucking you now too. perhaps you'd gotten your allotted pounding last night and this would be it for the week. you really can never know with rick.
the issue of time returns to your mind however, so when you grip his length, you only lick up and down enough to get him taking coordinated breaths through his nose and tautening.
“you’ve been demandin’ lately, doll.”
your thighs squeeze together at the nickname.
“maybe i want to be a little demandin’ of you.”
a gloved hand shoves your head down. the incentive to keep your moans quiet doubles when you hear commotion outside your office. right on time; your colleagues are returning to lunch.
“think you can quiet that big mouth enough?”
no words leave your mouth, you just swallow around his length, glancing up into his expanded pupils; almost void of blue. hollowing your cheeks, you remember the time crunch he’s in and put a little more pep into your step. this leads to you rocking a bit on your knees.
rick snorts once he catches sight of the development. “so needy, even just with a cock in your mouth, huh?” his teasing is cut off by the orgasm building up as he throbs against your tongue.
putting in the effort to counter more than a couple of gags, you allow your jaw to slack so rick can enjoy the unobstructed tightness of your throat - perfect for him to come without the mess, leaving it to your mouth.
you weren’t prepared to suck rick off in your office today but you’re determined to leave no trace of this interaction. when he spills down your throat, only a little bit remains on your reddened puffy lips. you wipe your mouth nonchalantly once rick flops out of your mouth, still gazing down at you.
“clean me up.”
an order is an order.
exhaustively, you trace patterns from his base to the spit covered tip that’s still twitching. “fuck,” he utters when you take him into your mouth again. “don’t have time for this,” he’s scolding and palming himself back into his pants, grabbing your hand to stand you up with him for some scattered kisses across your forehead.
he presses a kiss to your temple, traveling lower to embellish purple marks on your collarbone. you’re sure he’s about to do more than just wantonly groping your perky tits but a few more moan inducing punches for your nipple and he’s sealing the interaction with one wolffish kiss. you’re nearly stumbling after him when he pulls away, tugging the last of his belts on.
the door is flung shut and that’s that. rick’s gone.
you’re on rick’s bed before he retires for the night.
“good to see you again today.” you purr, nearly kicking your feet. “i’m feeling spoiled seeing you three times in one day.”
the soldier rolls his eyes. he drops his tactical bag on the ottoman in front of the bed. “you here to sleep? or mess around?”
you shrug. “your choice.”
hints of a sly smile are on the sergeant’s face but he walks away shaking his head before you can call him down to bed just yet.
you could just sleep tonight. rick had been turning you on enough for you to take a night off, preferably drifting off in his arms until you had to wake for your quarterly river survey with the geologists, engineers, and biologists in your neighboring divisions. you had a lot to prepare for come the morning. it wouldn't be terrible to unwind by getting off tonight.
the thought's put on pause once rick's arms wrap around you as he sinks into the soft, bedding. smelling of fresh toothpaste and some kind of beard balm, he’s more than ready to hold onto you like a vice for the night.
“hey.” you coo.
“hey there,” an arm escapes you to turn out the wall light still on over on his side of the bed. only the dim glow of the hallway light touches the darkened room now.
you turn slightly so rick can at least see the outline of your face - your eyes, nose, and lips in the dark. “what was that all about early?”
“hmm?”
"the asshole act earlier?"
“you needed to remember rank.”
an exasperated heave almost sends you to a seated position. “rank?”
“yes.”
the lack of playfulness in your voice has you wondrously thankful that he can’t see your eye rolls in the dark.
“that’s kinda fucked, rick.”
“says the one who just loves getting fucked.”
you shut up.
“getting on her knees, i don’t remember you complainin’ once i got you beneath me earlier today.”
you can’t say that you recall complaining either.
it feels like muscle memory when he gets you onto all fours.
set up on his knees with your cunt under his nose, rick licks a devastating stripe from top to bottom. then he’s coming back up again and squeezing muffled shrieks from you.
“you like that, honey?”
“i do, rick,” you reply breathlessly. you dig a clenched fist into the comforter. “fuck!” tears threaten your waterline already.
“like my tongue?”
“mhmm,” you writhe as he makes it his mission to bury his warm, wriggly appendage as far inside of you as he can. he’ll never be as deep as his cock but the difference in sensation has you nearly folding into the mattress.
the added finger has you squirming in conjunction with the taunting, flickering tongue working back out to your clit. eventually there’s a two pronged attempt to open you up. you’re clenching around his fingers when you hear him ask, “do you think you’re ready?”
“one hundred percent,” you breathe.
“‘kay, i need you to be one hundred percent sure of that, soldier.”
you tease on top of him at the mention, nearly jumping once you feel him at your entrance. lust centered, you nod your head assuredly. “yes, sergeant. i’m ready for your cock. ready to fulfill the mission.”
rick’s smirk and tousled curls are the last thing you see before you’re manhandled like a rag doll into the mattress.
then that rhythm that had you so worked up is paling in comparison to how full you feel with just a few inches of rick. whispering sweet praise and reminding you of the task at hand, you exhale and puff soft cheeks. the biting kisses from rick as he settles inside of you have your eyes already rolling back. his newfound rhythm only fulfills the trance you knew only ne could put you in.
crammed tight full of cock, you’re chanting his name and he’s petting your hair, praising you as you squeeze around him just excellently.
“you gonna come on my cock, soldier?”
“only if you’ll let me, sergeant.”
his balls slap against your clit, wonderfully matching the dull tap he’s testing on your cervix. it doesn’t matter though as he’s repositioning constantly and brushing the forlorn parts, placing his fingers in a painstakingly strategic position on your clit.
“want you so bad, rick.” the words tumble out as rick brings another hand from the fat of your ass to your tit. the touch has you arching, gasping and clawing at the sheets. “rick, rick!”
“love hearin’ you say my name,” he’s grunting into your hair when he lowers himself down to fuck you deeper.
this new angle that rick’s fucking you at has you incoherent. hips pistoning you into the mattress and closer to the mounting heat in your core that was threatening to ruin rick’s sheets. the pressure has tears cascading down your cheeks. if it was lighter you’d see them on the sheets but your bleary eyes only take in pillow, as your cunt takes all of rick.
a palm pushing down on the flat of your back. you sink further into the bed, allowing rick to penetrate you deeper. this newfound depth has you face down with a single trembling clawed hand to the sheets.
“rick,” you’re croaking, crying out for him.
one more thrust of his hips and you swear he’s going to break you.
he mutters a “fuck” and croons deep;
“michonne.”
pt. 1
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rowenas-megacoven · 1 year
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“Don’t start sounding like him” - please don’t get sappy with me and make this harder than it already is but the last time someone I loved said this to me I had to order him to die and I’m not ready to lose you too
“Don’t ruin what I have going” - please don’t get sappy with me and make this harder than it already is but I’ve made up my mind and it can’t be changed, please let me go
“You understand, don’t you Levi?” - I’m sorry, can you forgive me?
“Devote your heart” - I forgive you. Go
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viperwhispered · 1 month
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Rest
Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.
At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 
However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.
You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.
So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.
It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.
At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.
“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.
Of course.
It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.
You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.
“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.
“Yes.”
“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”
“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.
Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.
“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.
Really, when did he get so tired?
And how did you not notice it earlier?
You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.
Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.
You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.
Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.
Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.
“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.
Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.
“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”
“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.
Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.
But sometimes you really wish it would be.
Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.
Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.
“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”
You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.
“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”
Still, Jamil frowns.
You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?
“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.
And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.
“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.
It seems he has accepted his fate.
You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.
And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.
Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!
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booasaur · 1 year
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Ted Lasso - 3x05
Bonus:
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sanjifucker42069 · 6 months
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Looks Like Lingerie to Me - Part Two
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Word Count: 1.4k
Part 1
A belated and awkward part 2. I’ll start writing part 3 in the morning (it’s like 1am lmao)
For those who need a visual aid, here. (oof feels like wattpad or quotev but girlypops i am cringe but i am free. it isnt a perfect representation, but its pretty accurate. titilating, no? ;) )
Warnings: Lingerie lmao…this is pretty short, and is just a set-up for part 3. A lot of this is my own feelings surrounding cis men in lingerie. As with part 1 gender neutral reader. Yeah! Hope you enjoy!
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Sanji couldn't stop thinking about it. You thought he'd look hot in lingerie? You thought he looked slutty?
It had overtaken every waking moment. Any time he wasn't focused on a task all he could see was the dumb stare you gave him, eyes focused on his thighs.
He'd love to wear lingerie for you if it meant you'd stare at him like that.
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The Going Merry was docked, the Straw Hats carrying out their duties, and Sanji had a plan.
"I'm gonna go shopping. You coming (Name)? Sanji can carry our bags." Nami preened, looking absolutely glowing at the prospect of new clothes. Sanji bit his lip. He wanted to go with Nami and you, really he did, but if either of you caught on he'd die of embarrassment.
"You okay, Ji?"
Huh?
You were asking something.
"What? Oh, yeah, love. I'm fine. I'm afraid I have business to attend to on the island."
You blinked at him before smiling that dazzling smile up at him. He was smitten, his fortitude nearly wavering. "Of course. You do what you gotta do!"
Business his ass. Instead he hurried to check out the town.
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A small, seedy shop tucked away in an alley. Sanji entered the store warily. A small, old woman trotted out from the back. Sanji blanched. He didn't want to discuss this with a grandma! 
"Hello young man, here for something for your wife?"
Sanji felt himself flush. He tried to wander around the store. "No, no-"
"Your girlfriend then?" 
Ah. This grandmother didn't know when to quit.
"Not exactly?"
The old lady grabbed his arm. Sanji raised a brow, turning back to her. She was grinning at him, eyes narrowed and sparkling with something he couldn't place.
"Is it for you? Such a handsome young man as yourself." 
What? Sanji's face was on fire. He was flustered beyond belief. His hands were lightly shaking, eyes darting around for anyone else in the store.
"Come with me darling. My name's Bea." The old lady chimed, dragging Sanji with her. "What colour were you thinking?"
"Oh, um." Sanji was panicking, voice high. Did she even have lingerie for men? "Blue?" 
Bea hummed. "I do have blue, but I have a lovely pink set that would just make your skin pop."
Pink? Sanji didn't think it was possible to flush darker, and yet here he was. "I, uh, would it even fit me?"
"Of course sonny! You're quite slim." Bea swatted at his arm, patting his biceps for good measure as she led him through the store. "So, tell me about the lucky one."
"They're beautiful." Sanji began dreamily. Where should he even start? "The most gorgeous creature I've ever laid my eyes on. They have this laugh that just brightens up any room, and such a sense of humour. I’ve been smitten with them since I met them.”
“You two aren’t together?”
Sanji shook his head sadly. “No, no. We’re just good friends. They, uh… Do you know what shirt stays are?”
Bea laughed, patting the cook on the arm. “Say no more.”
She let go of him when they reached the back of the store. Sanji watched nervously as she carded through a rack of, well, did it really constitute clothing? Skimpy piece after skimpy piece were revealed.
And then he saw it.
It was a gorgeous baby pink. Bea ahhed as she removed it from the rack, holding it up to inspect it. She turned to face him, sizing him up next to the set. Sanji felt his throat go dry as he really took it in.
The set was a simple baby pink bralette, made from some kind of sheer lacy material with a flower motif. The plunging neckline was created to draw attention to the cleavage, and it was adorned with some delicate string of pearl-like decoration to highlight the collarbones. The panties were the same sheer material, clear that they weren’t to hide much. The sides of it were accentuated with cute ruffles that further added a feminine touch. Sanji felt lightheaded. 
Finally, it was a beautiful pastel garter belt that sat in the middle, completing the look. It too was made from the same stretchy, sheer lace. It would wrap around the waist, strategic cutouts to accentuate the waist, hips, and the bellybutton. The central cutout had a simple chain of pearls to add interest and movement. Four satin-looking ribbons led from bottom front and back, with clips attached to hold up stockings.
Oh, maybe his shirt stays were kinda…
Nonetheless, it was breathtaking. Sanji had clearly marvelled at it for too long, as Bea chuckled, causing him to flush red. The old woman, lingerie in hand, led him to a mirror. 
“I’m…I can’t.”
Bea just chuckled, holding the hanger up against him. “Look in the mirror boy, I’ve been making lingerie for fifty years. This suits you.”
Sanji obeyed her, staring at himself in the mirror. What he saw took his breath away. He looked a mess, face red and hair messy. He had to hand it to the old woman, the colour was flattering against him. Even the cut looked good. Sanji shifted from foot to foot, anxiety creeping in. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about looking so…so feminine. 
Sanji was a man. It wouldn’t be right for him to wear something so delicate and gorgeous. Right? Of course women’s clothing was beautiful, the fabrics they used, the stylish designs he’d seen the girls on the ship sport. Men’s clothing just, well it was meant to be masculine and boring. Right? He couldn’t let himself give in to that want to feel pretty, that would be wrong.
Right?
Bea, clearly noticing his inner struggle, scoffed.
“Sonny.”
“Sanji.” “Right. Sonny, I’ve been doing this for a long time.” “You, uh, you already said that.”
“I know that!” Bea snapped, swatting at him. Sanji’s gaze drifted back to the pink lace. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. When I started, well, I made boring beige bras and the same lacy black underwear again, and again, and again. I got bored. I got creative! And when I got creative, I became determined to make people feel pretty. People, Sonny, not women.”
Sanji went rigid, his throat was so dry. Was he that obvious? All he could make out was a simple, “Oh?”
Bea grinned. “Everyone deserves the right to feel pretty.” Sanji opened his mouth to speak but the old woman just held up a wrinkled hand. “Nope. Don’t care if you’re a ‘man’. Everyone. Sonny, one day you’ll realise that being a ‘man’ is more than just grunting like an ape, or never showing any vulnerability, or even having a penis. Man is a state of mind, and Sonny, the sooner you feel comfortable in who you are, the more beautiful life is going to be for you.”
Sanji felt breathless. “Really?”
“Really.” Bea nodded, a fondness in her eyes. “Come, we’ll get you a choker to go with it, I have just the one.”
Sanji felt a million miles away as Bea led him to the shop counter. She handled a delicate pink satin choker with care, presenting it to him. It was a giant bow, a simple snap holding it in place around the neck. Simple, but delicate. If Sanji was honest with himself, he liked it.
“Like a million berry! Your precious one will love you in it!” Bea smiled fondly at him. “So, Sonny, you buying?”
Sanji sucked in a deep breath. When he spoke his voice was foreign to him, a shakiness underlying the wispiness. Sanji felt like he was treading water, unsure and scared of the newness of it all. He could drown at any moment.
“Yeah.”
“Good, good!”
So Sanji paid. Bea took extra care to wrap the lingerie up in a delicate pink tissue paper. His own little present. She then promptly put it in an unmarked bag. She understood, shooting him a wink.
“So, anyone, huh?”
“Oh yes, yes. You see, originally I made them for my girlfriend when I was a much younger lady. She was a farmer’s daughter, wonderful girl, shared many a kiss with her, and then some! Now I make these lovely ones for my current husband. You remind me a lot of him, Sonny. You see he lets me wear this harness thing that I put in his a-”
“Thank you grandma, I’ll be out of here now!”
“Yes, yes. Good luck, Sonny! Stop by with your sweetie and get something nice one day, okay?” Bea waved her goodbyes from the doorway, smiling that same sweet old woman smile. Sanji clutched the bag to his chest tightly. 
Right. Time to put the plan into place.
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sydneys-adamu · 8 months
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there’s something so classic storybook romantic about syd and carmy’s insistence on choosing each other. sydney chose an opportunity with carm to work with him and learn from him, carm chose to hire her and let her teach him too. syd chose to come back to the restaurant and start something new with carmy, carmy chose to believe that someone must be on his side that he miraculously got a second chance with her.
“I wouldn’t even want to do this without you” soulmate this soulmate that yeah we know but it’s not even just that. it’s the fact that in a million scenarios, in a million lifetimes, sydney will choose to come back. carmy will choose to believe he can make his brother’s dream a reality because syd exists and she’s there and she’s real. there is no one else either of them would want to be having this experience with.
it’s I want you to have everything, and I want to be the one to give it to you, in any universe, every single time.
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dont-f-with-moogles · 6 months
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WIP It Wednesday
A couple of you have asked if I could post some of my Levihan drabbles on AO3...
*Boom*
The Little Book of Levihan (Tumblr Prompts)
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oatbugs · 1 month
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pls i need to provide updates
#basically yesterday night was chaharshanbe suri . which is a solar new yr tradition where we let go of the past suffering in our year#and like...start the new yr w fresh vigour . anyway so my friend was at the event and we were abt to leap over the fire#and she was like bro im im glad u blocked her (situationship) etc etc . and then. my phone started vibrating. and i look at it. and my f#friend looks at it. and its her. and were both like what the fuck?? i blocked her things r Over and anyway so i pick up the phone and shesl#acting like nothing happened (bc nothing DID happen for her) and she was like ohh ur doing chaharshanbe suri im not doing anything etc what#are ur new yr plans so i jusr .IDK WHY I DID THIS . but ig i didnt wanna come off as like lonely i said probably hanging out w family and#friends maybe reading poetry together . et cetera and she was like wait that sounds so fun why didnt u invite me!#LIKE WDYM YOUVE BEEN CONSISTENTLY MAKING IT CLEAR U DONT WANT TO BE IN MY PRESENCE . and i told her that after#everything i thought she didnt want to see me again and she was like you always think that 😐 . like. ?? ok anyway so she expects me to#invite her . and like. there is an above 0% but sub-5% chance she will actually show up . but the panic that gripped me#i started making calls to my friends asking them if they can come on the 23rd bc there must be an event and also i asked my mother#and she said actually yeah i am doing a thing on the 23rd :D it involves over 16 ppl (we live in a v small flat) of which like...7 are kids#so you wont have space to be in ur own room let alone invite others. which tbh like ...being around a bunch of loud kids doesnt seem fun fo#any of my friends or me etc so i thought maybe i should arrange things so that we all go out together and if she shows up she shows up 🤷‍♀️#but . im so. WHY DID I SAY THAT . i had to panic-call my research partner and ask him to get from oxf to where i live on the 23rd#and when he heard the explanation he like. the light in his voice disappeared 💀 but he potentially agreed so idk#THE ISSUE IS. 23rd im supposed to also have . a date#w this girl that i had a huge crush on when i was 15-16 (posted abt this b4 but id get shitty black coffee in the mornings just to spend a#few more minuted w her each day and she was the cleverest girl in school and she cared abt nothing but her academics but now shes very gay#scraggly homosexual etc etc shes cute) and YEAH IDK#like id have to go there on the date come back fast meet ppl POTENTIALLY (again under 5%) meet situationship girl#like is that even doable#but the thing is it would be so so so funny bc all of my friends dislike her sooo much#.........what if i invited the girl im supposed to have a date w over to hang out w us#god that would be so hilarious and chaotic . i wont do it tho im a mature person x#but it would be soooo funny#I HAVE AN ASSIGNMENT DUE TMRW 12:30PM IT IS 10:49PM RN I HAVENT STARTED IT bc i was rotting sadly in bed#popped a ritalin pill tho so here we go x#i have found myself in a state of such sheer agony and rage and sorrow and grief over this girl that atp i feel like#its just so entertaining . like i feel vaguely over it? ik nothing will come of it so its like just . have fun . vibe
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arlertdarling · 8 months
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Congrats on 100 followers! This is such a sweet thing to do to celebrate and I hope you have as much fun writing them as I'm sure we will reading them 💜
I don't want to take up a slot if you get too many requests, but the prompt of photograph made me think about Hange's excitement over Marleyan technology. Would you consider doing a canonverse drabble about Hange getting their photo taken for the first time (or something similar)? Whatever level of platonic or romantic so long as its sweet and fluffy because it's what Hange deserves ☺️
thank you so much! so far i’m really enjoying writing these and i don’t have many at all, so no worries, but i appreciate your consideration<3
i absolutely adore this idea, i hope i did it justice! i got carried away so this is about 900+ words whoops. also i did a lot of research on cameras from the 1910s lol i hope it’s accurate
PHOTOGRAPH
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hange x gn!photographer!reader, anti-marleyan volunteer!reader, reader is a lame and insecure little photography nerd (affectionate), canonverse
this request is a part of my 100+ follower event; if you’re interested, check out this post!
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people have asked to hold your camera before, but never to examine it — which is exactly what commander hange did after discovering what you do for a living. along with that, they also insisted on a demonstration of what your ‘fascinating marleyan tech’ does — and that’s how you’ve ended up here, with hange turning over and inspecting a heavy, nickel-plated invention called the ‘camera’.
“oi, be careful with that thing,” levi says to hange, but they completely ignore him and continue to handle the instrument with frenzied interest, studying every component up-close and fiddling with its mechanics.
it’s not every day — at least not before you arrived in paradis with yelena and the others — that you see someone so in awe of the technology you’ve grown accustomed to and use regularly. it makes you nostalgic, in a way, seeing hange so amazed by the camera and all its intricate features, as it reminds you of when you first saw one.
“wow,” hange breathes, probably the only thing they’ve said that isn’t mumbled, unintelligible word vomit. “wow, this is just– wow!”
you giggle at their reaction as they take one last look over the camera before handing it back to you, a greater level of care and respect in their hold than before.
“so...” they point their thumb at the chair and backdrop set up behind them with a grin. “we just stand here and you make the ‘photograph’?”
the way they phrase it makes you smile, not bothering to correct them since it’s so endearing and instead just nodding. hange is already by the chair, gesturing to it for levi to sit in. he glares and slaps their hands away, telling them to sit in it. hange teases him about having a complex but complies anyway. you laugh at the scene inwardly while you set the camera on its tripod and readjust its mechanisms. in your peripheral vision, you see hange in the chair, rambling to levi — who’s standing awkwardly behind them — about how they should sit and what expression they should make. you smile and continue to make adjustments; turning the dial, tweaking the aperture, checking the eyepiece. once you’re sure that everything is calibrated, you straighten up.
“okay. please be as still as possible for at least eight seconds,” you announce.
hange sits up. “wait, wait! eight seconds? why is that?”
you’re a little caught off guard by their questions. usually people just nod and do as they’re told because ‘you’re the expert here’ but you admire their curiosity. “um, the camera has a slow shutter speed,” you answer, lightly tapping the lens, “so the photograph will be blurry if you move.”
hange frowns in thought. “what happens if i move on accident? what if i need to sneeze? what if– hey! maybe if you could make a quicker ‘shutter speed’–” they gasp. “or maybe if there was a way to allow it to capture movement–”
“focus, four-eyes,” levi snaps at them, “and quit fidgeting or else the photograph will be shitty.”
“ah, i can’t help it!” hange exclaims. the entire time, they haven’t stopped squirming, too giddy and ecstatic. they keep thinking back to the photo they found in eren’s basement and how soon they’ll have one of their own; a physical, permanent reflection of a moment in time. “this is just so exciting!”
they finally settle down and smile, all teeth. levi has been ready the entire time, posed with his arms folded across his chest; not even looking at the camera, but you suppose that’s likely the best you’ll get and press the button under the lens. the camera clicks and you wait a few seconds before taking it off the stand and opening up the shutter compartment.
hange is by your side in a flash and levi has to catch their chair as it’s almost knocked back from how suddenly they leap out of it. “is it done? can i see?” hange pesters eagerly, hovering over your shoulder and trying to catch a glimpse of the photo. levi follows after them, but stands to the side, waiting.
you laugh. “ah, no, it’s not ready yet,” you tell them. “it needs to be exposed to light for a minute or so before i remove it, and then it’ll take some time to develop, and after that, some more time to print... it’s, uh– it’s quite the tedious process, really.” instead of the typical confused or dumbfounded expression you’re used to, you see admiration and wonder and bewilderment, like hange wants to hear you keep talking, to tell them more about photo production — and that’s when you get an idea.
“actually,” you say, meeting their keen eyes, “i can show you, if you’d like?” they just stare at you, expressionless. “um, it’s– it’s time-consuming so i understand if you don’t want to stay for the whole process–”
“i can?! really?!” they cling to your arm like a puppy, almost delirious in their excitement. their face lurches forward, eyes wide and eager behind their glasses. “can i try making a photograph? please say yes!”
you chuckle. “i’ll have to think about it,” you say and take out the film, then lift it up and show it to hange. “for now, let’s go get this developed.”
hange’s glasses glint as they snicker almost maniacally before grabbing levi by the arm. “leviii!” they shout, and the short man winces at their volume, grumbling a ‘stop yelling’ to which hange responds, “wanna tag along?”
“uh, i’ll... pass,” he says, shrugging off hange’s hands. he glances at you, then back at hange. “i’m leaving. i’ll see you at tomorrow’s morning meeting, hange. don’t be late.”
as he’s leaving, hange calls out, “your loss!” and waits for him to disappear down the corridor before turning back to you. “anyway! ‘developed’, you said?”
you look up from where you’re collapsing the billow back inside the camera. “oh, uh, yes.”
hange grins. “lead the way!”
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one nice thing about Webtoon is that although the audience is rotting their brains on gay romance content, they don't have the activist mindset that other fiction-based communities do. so I can read something "insensitive" in a Webtoon and think "oh man the author is gonna get torn to pieces in the comments for this," scroll down, and find not one single peep about it in the comments. they didn't even notice. they are not wired to seek the problematic. Tumblr? I don't even know her. love that.
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grimesgirll · 2 months
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you look forward to your car rides with rick.
you love your group too but sometimes a long car ride helps you unwind and recharge when your social battery is low and you just need to stare out the window at some grassy hills. besides, most days rick let you choose the soundtrack for your drive so you could DJ.
the only cds you'd had when you met up with the group were your signed cds that you couldn't part with: your parents' favorite foreigner album and taylor swift's sophomore album. after playing those albums front to back and hearing "double vision" one too many times enough to nearly ruin the song for you - and rick too probably - you set out to find some new tunes. you and daryl came back from a record store with a crate of old cds - it was a shame that you couldn't preserve the records but you had yet to run into a working record player that was worth your time. nonetheless, you found fleetwood mac albums, soft rock compilations, and music to mellow your trips.
you were itching to see him today. you’d been preoccupied mass producing buckwheat cereal and it was never a good time with him. you lavished the opportunity to spend time alone with the perpetually preoccupied rick grimes.
rick is waiting for you when you climb into the car. hickory curls frame his face which is sunburnt from all the time spent outside finishing up the harvest.
“hey,” you greet, pulling the car shut and shifting into your seat.
“hey there.” the sheriff farmer replies gruffly, hands already tensed and gripping the steering wheel.
you don’t need to ask what’s wrong because you already know: carl.
you love the boy but he wasn’t playing the part of the pacifist farm boy rick wanted him to. you don’t blame either of them. rick was right to rein carl in after he fired on that boy from woodbury as he surrendered.
that shook you up a bit too, but you remembered that carl was young and after weeks of planting, it won’t hurt to let the boy kill a walker or two on fence duty. there’s at least no reason for rick to give him shit about it.
rick’s so pent up though. it could be not just carl but the young infant going through the four month sleep regression.
settling judith for the night seemed to be a never ending battle, every battle a losing battle. you’d managed to take the little girl off of rick’s hands so he could sleep but she rarely went down for you either anymore. the baby that was once happy to fall asleep in your arms before bed was now fighting bedtime with everything she had.
your leader was saddled with stress. you can see it in the white of his knuckles against the steering wheel and how he doesn’t say anything before starting the car and pulling out of the prison, the gate being pulled behind your car by glenn and daryl.
almost forgetting to put in the new cd in your lap, your eyes are glued to the steering wheel. navigating whatever you have with rick is treacherous when just the sight of his taut hands has your breath picking up.
the two of you had no opportunity to get away lately. it’s not like you’re going to pester rick or jump him in the fields.
you’d already heard a, “later, sweetheart” earlier this week and it made you want to curl up into a ball.
waving the cd so rick can see, you ask if he likes the eagles. he shrugs. not much of a response.
“i’m gonna pop this in,” you inform him and lean over slightly to eject the cd currently residing in the media console - one of daryl’s buffalo springfield cds - to slide in an eagles’ greatest hits album.
he doesn’t pay much attention, just keeps his attention on the road and his knuckles wrapped around the steering wheel.
the sound of a guitar transitions you into the first song, which you think is aptly named. “take it easy” is exactly what rick should do but the song doesn’t seem to lighten his mood.
you two sit in silence. this isn’t unusual for you guys. sometimes you go quiet on parts of the drive.
rick breaks the silence.
“you like older stuff?”
i like older, rugged, handsome ex-cops with hands that can-
“i like all kinds of stuff.”
the older man laughs. “just wouldn’t have pegged you for an eagles girl.”
“it’s dad rock. don’t you like it?” you ask, catching his blue eyed gaze.
he slouches his shoulders. “they’re not bad. i would’ve liked if you put on that fleetwood mac cd a bit more.”
you grin. “i’ll remember to put their greatest hits cd on next.”
what you should be doing is reaching back to grab the cd booklet from the backseat but you’re fixated on rick. he’s driving, hyper focused on being aware of his surroundings again so he doesn’t notice the path your eyes take from his hands on the wheel to his pants. he doesn’t see your eyes cloud with thoughts of you two.
“pull over.”
“what?” rick questions, shooting you a skeptical look. “why?”
“i really have to go number one.”
he scoffs. “that’s why you wanna stop?” he shakes his head at you. you’re always asking him to stop on the side of the road for you to pee or find a dilapidated bathroom to go in. “next time, you gotta go before we leave.”
you nod, working overtime to conceal the early signs of victory on your lips. rick heeds your request and pulls into a rest stop parking lot, telling you to make it quick.
“be right back!” you chirp and use the bushes behind a gazebo to maintain your angle - and actually empty your bladder.
then you’re hopping back into the car and pressing the passenger side button to lock all of the doors. your hand stops rick’s when he goes to start the car, using the other to unbuckle his seatbelt. you’re in his lap by the time you’ve gotten his seat reclined by pushing down the lever.
the dark haired man is chiding your name. “what are you doin’?”
“helping you relax.”
“we gotta get on with our run.”
“i think you having fun is a bit more important.” you argue as you undo his belt. “why don’t you just relax?” you smile at him while you turn up the music slightly.
the sheriff rasps your name. “we have to stay vigilant.”
you send him a look that his him straining in his baby blue boxers. “rick, the doors are locked. we’ll hear a walker if they come up and we can drive away. just trust me and relax.”
it’s hard to argue when you’re tugging down his waistband, hands finding him and fondling him until the only sounds coming out of his mouth are pants.
opening up nice and wide, you slip him into your mouth. you smile when your tongue on the side of his length is met with a breathy moan.
one of rick’s hands are on the back of the center console and the other is pressed against the driver’s side door. between you wandering up and down his shaft with your tongue, he feels cornered. even more so when you take the opportunity to guide his hands to your hair.
it takes a few minutes but rick is no longer preoccupied with scanning the perimeter or heavy under the worry you could always sense under his skin, distracted by the curve of your ass. just leaning with his head back, basking in the soft rock playing and the woman so keen on relieving the pressure that weighed down on his reddened shoulders.
“such a good girl,” he’s gasping.
you move faster. suction your lips a little tighter. you haven’t been fooling around with rick for long but one thing is true without a doubt for him; he’s long and thick. you still haven’t mastered what must be some kind of witchcraft to fit all of him down your throat without gagging, but rick doesn’t care. as long as his dick in your mouth, he’s not complaining. especially not when you look up at him with his cock halfway down your throat.
success bubbles in your core and even with rick stuffed down your throat, you’re beaming. you’ve managed to get him to sit back and take a moment to enjoy himself - to enjoy you.
but you realize that your work is far from done when your favorite farmer cums down your throat, relishing the moment despite his still rock solid cock. he pulls your mouth off of him after you swallow, seemingly relishing the sight of you, lips in a pout in his lap.
“it’s your turn,” rick growls before fervidly dragging you to the backseat to pin your hips down and return the favor.
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hatsunevitu · 9 months
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when kyle was 16, his parents (mostly dad) decided that he had to understand how money are earned by hard and honest work, so they cut off his pocket money and gave him an advice to finally find a part-time job. kyle didn’t mind it much, so after a week or two of choosing the right option he decided to stick to something as peaceful and less stressful as possible, so he chose to get a job at the local library as an assistant. he already had experience in working with literature and students books – he was tutoring his classmates for a year by that time, plus the librarian was his mother’s friend so he didn’t expect any difficulties to get into his way.
until cartman learned about kyle’s new work and decided it was his moral duty to go into the library that he has never visited before and pester kyle every goddamn day. because kyle couldn’t do anything to stop this since he wasn’t allowed to start conflicts as a worker there. it also was prohibited to shout at the library so most of the time he was cursing and threatening cartman in a whisper. neither was he allowed to kick him out because the librarian truly believed that every child has the right to be in this sacred temple of knowledge.
and it was terrible.
every day kyle was expecting another trick from cartman – either it was total reorganising of the books on shelves from alphabetical order to matching colours, or a request to find a very rare book that only was in the library in one copy somewhere in the farthest corner of the room at the highest shelf – only to realise cartman absolutely knows this book has been missing for, like, three years by now.
kyle: Can you please stop bothering me?! You don’t even read books!
cartman: Sure I do! But paper books are sooo last century, I’m into e-books now.
kyle: THEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THE LIBRARY EVERY DAY, YOU SADISTIC ASSHOLE?
cartman: Making your life even more miserable and complicated than it already is?…
kyle: Why am I even surprised? I should’ve really guessed.
AND THEN one day kyle sees cartman in the library and mentally prepares for another portion of mocking, but surprisingly for him, cartman doesn’t even look at him, says simple and brief “hi” and goes straight to the reading hall, grabbing one of the books on the shelf. kyle can’t help but feel curious, because he’s never seen cartman so concentrated and serious – at least not the last few weeks. he sneaks up to him from the back:
kyle: What, have you finally realised what you’re actually supposed to do at the library?
cartman, shivering a little: You’re not supposed to scare the shit out of your customers too, huh, Kahl?
kyle: What even is this book? Knowing your tastes, I won’t be surprised if it’s, like, fucking Mein Kampf or something like that.
cartman, rolling his eyes: It’s none of your fucking business. And I wouldn’t read Mein Kampf, who do you even think I am?
and then kyle grabs cartman’s book and with surprise sees that it’s one of his most favorite books (i’m not sure what exactly it is but my personal hc is that kyle is really into dystopias and stories with political controversial subtext…), and he really can’t help but start discussing it with cartman. after, like, a whole half an hour of kyle infodumping him with the history behind this book, he realises they actually have pretty similar taste, and cartman’s analysing skills are so great he really understands all of the hidden messages in books, and they, well…. eventually start hanging out in the library discussing books they’re reading rn. to the point where kyle almost forgets about his other duties at work ‘cause he gets really consumed by all these discussions with cartman.
and he tries to tell about this to stan and kenny but they both just laugh because these two nerds who have finally found a conversation partner are fucking hilarious.
+ bonus about their preferences: they both are really into morally grey and/or generally antagonistic characters. and although it’s totally predictable for cartman, he was really shocked when he realised kyle adores “bad” and “immoral” characters as well (we aaaaaall know why…)
also i think kyle is more of a “plot” person who really enjoys reading about how the world in the book works, meanwhile cartman mostly prefers digging into characters, relationships between them and their psychological traits and traumas, yk? and it really helps, because each of them often notice little details the other might’ve missed.
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augustslippedavvay · 1 year
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when i see you, the whole world reduces to just that room (eddie munson)
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summary: after what feels like the longest year of your life, you’re ready to ring in 1987 in the wheelers’ basement with your closest friends, one of whom you’ve begun to think of as a little more than that - and you’re starting to suspect he might have, too.
author’s note: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! idk i’m supposed to be finishing like, eight other wips but i decided to spur of the moment write a really self indulgent new year’s eve blurb bc why not!!! i’m feeling festive!!! i hope u like <33 also i scouted TIRELESSLY for lyrics for a good title for this before i settled on this one from ‘don’t delete the kisses’ by wolf alice - i looked through like a dozen ‘new year’s kiss’-esque playlists to find a good song LMAOOO
pairing: eddie munson x f!reader word count: 2k <3 warnings: none just fluffy nonsense, mutual pining, maybe a lil angst bc of the events of season 4 
“I swear to all that is holy, if you two don’t make out tonight, I’m–”
“It’s not that simple, Buckley, okay?”
“It totally is that simple, Eddie! You’ve been crushing for ages, just kiss her already!”
“Everything alright in here?”
Eddie and Robin look up at where you’re leaning against the doorway, both of their faces pale, like you’ve caught them in the act of something reprehensible, but really they’re just standing in front of the kitchen sink talking in hushed voices. Which, in retrospect, isn’t any less suspicious. You cock an eyebrow. “I heard shouting.”
“Yeah, fine,” Robin says, smiling, then brushes past you on her way back to the basement. “Eddie and I were just discussing some very important business. I’ll be downstairs. Happy new year!”
“Happy new year,” you murmur, pressing a hand against her arm as she passes. You glance up at Eddie, frozen on the other side of the room, hesitating for a moment before stepping three paces closer. “You okay?”
Eddie hums, his back still turned to you. His Iron Maiden tee rides up on one side, exposing the tanned plane of his back as he reaches up to grab the champagne flutes Mrs. Wheeler keeps in the cupboard above the sink, where really nobody can reach them except the big kids, and now Mike, the beanpole. You press a thumb to your bottom lip contemplatively, take a small, shuddering breath.
“Are you sure? It sounded like you and Robin–”
“Yeah, sweetheart, all’s fine,” Eddie says, turning and gesturing towards himself with three glasses in his hand. “Can you help me grab the rest of these? Told Harrington I’d make sure they were ready for midnight.”
“Of course,” you murmur, taking the ones already in his hands into yours, your knuckles brushing only briefly against his, and watch him grab four more by the stem, wincing only slightly when they clink together. He turns to face you, meeting your eye momentarily and when you go to open your mouth again, he raises his eyebrows and angles his head in the direction of the basement. You sigh. “Yeah, sure, let’s get these downstairs.”
As you descend the stairs behind Eddie, you watch Robin, Steve, Vickie, and Nancy peel themselves apart, each of them giving you their own wary glances, heading off into different corners of the basement, busying themselves and avoiding your gaze. You stop abruptly when you reach the bottom of the stairs, try to cross your arms as far as they’ll go with the champagne flutes in your grasp.
“Seriously, you guys, what the hell is going on?”
“Nothing!” You shoot a glare at Robin, who crosses her heart with her fingers. “Nothing’s going on. Swear.”
“You’re all being so weird, and upstairs, in the kitchen, you and Eddie, like, practically jumped out of your skin when I walked in the room, and now this?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Robin insists, glancing sideways at Steve. “We, uh. We’ve all just been trying to convince Eddie to apply to work at that tiny new record store going in in the spring. He thinks it’s a long shot, but we all know he’s a shoe-in. He’s being too stubborn about it, honestly.”
Eddie scoffs, and you frown, but resume your descent, handing the champagne flutes to Steve, who sets them on a table set up in the furthest corner of the room. You glance at Eddie, suspiciously quiet, who’s ditched his own glasses and is now busying himself trying to figure out the TV.
“Fine, whatever.”
“We can have champagne tonight, too, right?” Max pipes up from the couch, and you narrow your eyes at her. She’s clearly in on whatever the others are up to, changing the subject like that. She holds her arms up defensively.
“No, Mayfield, everyone’s parents would kill me,” Steve scoffs, prompting some muttered insults from Max. “Hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m serious.”
Protests pop up around the room, all of the kids suddenly offended at the prospect that they’re too young to have champagne with the rest of you, though they hadn’t been bothered until Max brought it up. 
“I mean, I think, like, half a glass wouldn’t hurt?”
Steve looks at Nancy, eyes wide, a bewildered look passing across his face. “Nance, I thought I’d at least have you on my side!”
Jonathan laughs and throws an arm around Nancy’s shoulder. He shrugs. “What’s the harm, Harrington? Nancy’s parents are out of town, we’re all just gonna crash here anyway. Live a little, dude.”
“Yeah, Harrington,” Max grins, and Steve shoots her a warning glance. 
“Fine, fine, whatever,” Steve says, glancing up at you. “Give me a hand again?”
Plastic cups of champagne are passed around, and you watch as everyone experiences it for the first time. El is sniffing the drink, not sure what to make of it, glancing up at Will, who seems not to mind the taste. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike are all watching Max for her reaction, and when she takes her first sip she immediately pulls a face, disgusted. 
“God, it’s so…dry?”
Steve snorts. “It’s champagne, Mayfield! Get used to it!” 
On the TV, everyone is preparing for the ball to drop. Jonathan grabs Nancy, Vickie grabs Robin, and you watch all of your friends hug and preemptively wish one another a happy new year. After the year you’ve all had, you can’t help but tear up a little at the sight of everyone you love safe and happy and together in the same room.
“Hey, uh,” Eddie whispers, standing at your shoulder with a full flute of champagne in his outstretched hand. You thank him and tap the glass against his own, watching him over its rim as you take your first sip. Eddie clears his throat, one hand clasped around the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t by any chance, I don’t know, want to be my new year’s kiss?”
You swallow the sparkling wine, trying to discern from the look on his face whether he’s being serious or not. His brown eyes are so bright, even in the dimly-lit basement.
When you realize he’s not joking, you take a step closer to him. “Yeah, yes, Eddie,” you breathe, one hand pressed against his chest through his tee shirt. Your hand holding your drink drops to your side, and Eddie clasps one hand around it. 
“Yeah?” He says, grinning, and you nod one more time for good measure. One hand against the side of your face, Eddie lets out a long breath, his cheeks flushing. “You’re sure?”
“Munson,” you whisper into the space between your open mouths, and as the countdown starts, everyone in the room chants along. Five, four, three– “Kiss me.”
Eddie hardly hesitates, and when the clock strikes midnight, he presses his lips to yours before you’ve even had the chance to close your eyes. His mouth is soft, his body so warm. His nose bumps against yours when you shift your head to deepen the kiss, which he welcomes for a moment before pulling away.
You all cheer, ringing in the new year, and now your frostbitten cheeks mirror his own, laughing as you catch Steve’s eye.
“It’s about time,” Steve says, rolling his eyes, but it’s playful, and you glance up at Eddie, watching as a smile makes its way onto his face, and you start to smile, too. You shove Steve’s shoulder then tuck your face into Eddie’s neck, who wraps one protective arm around you.
“Be careful aiming that attitude at my girl, Harrington,” Eddie teases, palming the back of your neck, pulling your face back to look him in the eye. His gaze is drawn down toward your lips, still wet from his, and kiss-reddened, for only a moment before it meets yours once more. The affection you’re faced with almost knocks your knees out from under you.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” you respond, leaning forward enough to push your nose against his. Eddie grins.
“He’s right, you know,” Eddie whispers, and you nod. He is right. “Been wantin’ to do that for so long, you’ve got no clue. Just never plucked up the courage.”
“Is this what all of you were up to tonight? Which one of these hooligans finally convinced you to do it?”
“Um, all of us hooligans, actually,” Steve murmurs, chugging the rest of the champagne in his flute and pulling a face. Robin gives you a guilty look and mouths Sorry! when you aim a halfhearted glare at her. “He was like a lovesick puppy. It was gross, the way he’d moon over you, making eyes at you whenever you turned your back.”
Eddie makes a noise in the back of his throat, shaking his head. “I was not mooning, Harrington.”
“Oh, you were mooning, man. Thank God that’s over.”
“Hey,” you murmur, grinning up at Eddie. “If I tell you I was mooning, too, but I was just better at hiding it, would that make you feel any better?”
“You know what,” Eddie sighs, planting a kiss on your cheek. “That does make me feel a lot better, sweetheart. Thank you.”
“No problem, baby.”
Eddie laughs at the pet name and pushes both hands up under the back of your shirt, pulling you tight against him, one of his thumbs underneath the band of your bra.
“Seriously, should we give you guys the room, or?”
“Shut it, Henderson,” Eddie grumbles, leaning down and pressing his lips back to yours once, twice, three more times. 
You grin against Eddie’s mouth and finally pull back for good, and when he whines, you give him a searing look. “We can continue this when there aren’t minors present, Munson.”
“Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart.”
You begin to make your way around the room, hugging each of your friends close. Wishing everyone a happy new year. Knowing the cost everyone paid to be here today. Thankful to still be alive to hold the people you love. Glancing over at Eddie every once in a while, and finding that he’s already watching you, a sweet, shy smile on his face. 
And if you fall asleep that night on the couch spooning Eddie, waking up in the small hours of the morning to turn him in your arms and kiss him silly, no one else has to know. You pull away from him, lips aching from the memory of his against yours, and click your tongue.
“You really spent all year pining after me?”
“Well, not...all year long.” You give him a knowing look, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear, and he laughs softly. “Okay, yeah, most of the year. I swear it wasn’t as bad as Harrington made it seem, but you just - you made it really hard not to fall in love with you, sweetheart, what with saving my life, you know,” he whispers, biting his lip, and sucks in one more sharp breath before finishing with, “and all.”
Fondness softens your gaze. 
“You should’ve said something, Eddie,” you murmur, bringing your hand back up to run your knuckles across the side of his face. He preens at your featherlight touch, pursing his lips, his gaze slipping down to your mouth. “You should’ve said something sooner. I would’ve let you kiss me, like, six months ago, if I knew.”
“Yeah,” he says, laughing. “We got a lot of time to make up for.” 
The two of you fall into silence, and Eddie smiles at you, a slow, soft, lover’s smile, meant only for you in the dark of the Wheelers’ den, the unspoken thought that thank God you even can make it up hanging between you. It’s not lost on you that it’s a miracle you’re even holding him it all.
The others are scattered, asleep, elsewhere in the house. All of these people you love, these kids who’ve had to grow up so fast, who’ve all faced the prospect of a terrifying end head-on and found respite in one another after the fact. The strongest, bravest group of humans you’ve ever met. 
You hum, lost in thought, and shift so your face is pressed between Eddie’s neck and his pillow, your mouth against the skin right behind his ear.
“We have all the time in the world, Eddie.”
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taishaunas · 2 years
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But I did have a dream about her.
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