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kitten4sannie · 7 months ago

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trendsetter

reach for my goals, hit it dead center

pairing: idol ex! mingi x fem! reader

genre: an actual idol au omg, smut

summary: mingi reminds you why he was so hard to leave in the first place, well, the first few times, anyway.

w.c: 3.3k

bc i’m bigger, better

warnings: brief weed use/shotgunning (mingi’s a plug in another life btw <3), mingi’s kinda a dickhead and a master manipulator (damn double homicide), dom! mingi, subby! reader, mingi’s got a big cawk, glove ? kink? idk bro, exhibitionism, teasing, praise/degradation, pet names galore/name calling, tit play, spit, fingering, finger sucking (leads to some gagging), oral (giving), deep-throating, cum eating, grinding, kissing, size kink, breeding kink, mingi fucks reader raw on the hood of her own car hallelujahhhh

a/n: don’t blame me for this btw,, blame mingi mango and the things he’s been posting on ig 😮‍💨 this man makes me delirious istg. also i wrote this while incredibly sleep deprived just so yk !! there might be some grammar and spelling errors (as well as a general sense of lunacy ✨) regardless i hope you enjoy and please do let me know if you liked it bc feedback is like a treat for me and im a treat hungry lil goblin uwu <3

song recs: so damn into you by vlad holiday - come 2 me by johnny goth - liquid by boston manor

Mingi barely made it two steps past one of the various emergency exit doors of the booming, hectic arena, dropping his lighter on the ground when his favorite ex suddenly came waltzing back into his life again after just swiftly exiting it for the nth time.

“Where are my car keys? I know you have them,” you abruptly confronted him, snatching the lighter from the ground before he could grab it and sliding it inside your tank top, right in between your tits.

“Why would I have your car keys, sugar?” Mingi sighed exasperatedly, walking in your direction until he towered over you, gently clasping his calloused hands around your upper arms so he could rub them up and down in an effort to calm you, gently turning you around until your back pressed into the cool metal of the emergency door. “Can you use that pretty little head of yours for me, Y/N? I just performed right now. I was busy rehearsing before that. Do you really think I would take your keys from you just to keep you from leaving?”

“Yes, I do. You always do some fuck shit like this when I try to leave. Every time, Mingi.” Despite the furrow of your brow and the contempt present within your words, you couldn’t help but watch as Mingi’s thumbs began to press into the sides of your tits. When you didn’t say anything, he began to press the rest of his gloved fingers into the softness of your chest.

“Some fuck shit like this?” Mingi asked under his breath, studying your flushed face to gauge your reaction as he squeezed your tits against the palms of his rough hands, rubbing his thumbs teasingly against the thin material of your sports bra until he felt your nipples harden. “You aren’t tell me to stop, baby. Cat got your tongue?”

“I hate you…” you whispered softly, not understanding why you never had the strength to deny him, even in a public, though empty alleyway, even after you just broke up with him only a little while ago.

“You don’t seem to hate this…Your body’s responding to me…” Mingi suddenly pinched your nipples through your sports bra, chuckling at the gasp you let out. He leaned down, bringing his lips to your ear to whisper, “I bet you don’t hate how wet I’m making you right now, either. Is your cunt throbbing for me already, Y/N?”

“N-no…” You bit into your bottom lip when your ex let out a disapproving ‘uh-uh’ as you turned your head to look away from him, squeezing your thighs together, hoping your arousal wouldn’t drip past your short skirt.

With one hand still clasped around your tit to play with it, Mingi brought the other up to grasp your chin, making you face him again, so close that you were breathing in each other’s air, your parted lips almost touching. “You’ll let me check to see if you’re lying, won’t you, sugar? Can I see how many fingers I can fit inside your tight little cunt?”

You hated how much your body and soul still burned for your lecherous ex, hated how desperate you suddenly were for him to have his way with you, but what you hated most of all was the way you whimpered out, “Please, Minnie.”

Mingi groaned softly at the use of his pet name, feeling most of his blood began to head below the belt, letting go of your chin, the both of you watching as his hand disappeared underneath your skirt. He instantly slipped two thick fingers inside you up to the knuckles, despite wearing a pair of thick leather gloves, the both of you moaning at the squelching sound your bare, wet cunt made. “That’s my girl. You wore this slutty little skirt and no panties just for me, didn’t you? You don’t even care about getting out of here with your keys. You just wanted me to put my hands all over you one last time, yeah?”

Just as you were about to respond, Mingi suddenly stuffed his leather-bound fingers into your mouth, making you taste your own warm wetness. “A-aaahn,” you moaned around his moving digits, feeling them slip along your hot tongue, looking up at your ex’s intensely dark gaze.

“Suck,” he simply requested, smiling fondly at the sight of your plush lips closing around his fingers, pushing them further and further back until he made you gag around them, his cock throbbing at the sight of your teary doe eyes. “Oh, baby, if you’re going to be looking at me like that and making those pretty noises, I’m gonna lose it…but, you can take it, right? My fingers in your throat?”

You whined softly, trying your best not to gag more around his moving fingers, relaxing your throat enough so that the only sound that could be heard was your moans and the abundance of saliva in your mouth.

“Good girl.” Mingi slipped his fingers out of your mouth and pressed his lips onto your cheek, whispering, “Can you take my cock down your throat next, pretty girl? I worked so hard to perform tonight, you know. Don’t you think I deserve head from my favorite ex?”

“Uh-huh,” you found yourself agreeing, your head still fuzzy from having his fingers inside your mouth, desperate to have something else warm and thick on your tongue, thankful for the heavy hand that began to push your head down until your bare knees were resting against the cold concrete below.

“Say ‘aaah’,” Mingi cooed darkly from above, expertly undoing his thick belt buckle and lowering his pants until his stiff, reddened cock smacked up into his abdomen. It was then that his hands were drawn to either side of your head, barely giving you enough time to open your mouth before he thrusted forward, the tip of his cock instantly hitting the back of your throat. “Fuckkkk, that’s a good slut. You don’t have to be my girlfriend to be my fuck toy, huh, baby?”

Your moans of approval were instantly muffled by the massive cock that was being stuffed inside your throat by your eager ex, as you reached up to grasp at his hips, the shiny lighter that was still sitting in between your tits starting to jostle around due to Mingi’s rough movements.

Suddenly reminded of his post-concert ritual, Mingi reached into his back pocket and placed a joint between his lips, then fished the lighter out from between your tits, but not before he squished one of them for the hell of it. He rolled the dial on the lighter a few times before a flame sparked, bringing it up and lighting the tip of his joint.

The strong aroma of Mingi’s flower reached you in an instant, having to blink your many tears away to watch him take a deep puff of it and blow it out into your face. Your lips tingling from the immense stretch, you sputtered around his pulsing cock, suddenly pulling away, letting your spit laced lips rest against his leaking tip, weakly licking at the pre-cum that spilled from it. “M-minnie…”

“Why’d you stop?” Mingi grunted, biting on the tip of the joint to keep it from falling from his lips, looking down at you with his sharp, slightly red eyes. Using his free hand to jerk himself off with his cockhead pressed to your lips and smearing his pre-cum over them just for his own enjoyment, he slowly realized what was up. “Oh, you want a hit? Aren’t you precious? Come here.”

Mingi slowly lowered himself down into a crouching position, letting go of his cock to grab your chin with his arousal coated fingers, taking in a deeper inhale, the majority of the joint turning to ash, just as he flicked it away into the gutter. He pressed his lips onto yours in an open-mouthed kiss, neither of you bothering to close your eyes as he slowly filled your lungs with smoke.

Just as you began to choke while trying to exhale all the smoke, Mingi dragged his tongue across your own and over your top set of teeth just because he felt like it, before standing back up. “I bet you’re feeling real good now, baby. That was top shelf.” He spat into the palm of his hand and lubed up his cock, before patting your cheek and sliding himself back into the hot haven that was your throat, not wasting a single second to begin pumping himself inside it again, almost like he had never stopped.

Now that both your body and brain were delightfully clouded with a heavy, lustful high, you felt like you could cum just from getting ruthlessly throat-fucked alone, your nails digging into Mingi’s bare hips, more and more tears and saliva dripping along your flushed skin the longer he abused your tiny throat with his oversized length.

“Fuck, I can’t handle it when you cry and drool like that just from sucking my cock, baby. I’m gonna fucking cum,” Mingi groaned deeply from above you, rested his forearms against the emergency door, thrusting sloppily into your mouth. He let out a few short, whiny moans once he began to shudder, plunging his throbbing cock deep inside your throat and staying still. “Oh, shit, I’m cumming. Take my load, princess, ohh my god, that’s it.”

You swallowed the warm, salty liquid as it shot down your throat, only to open your mouth and present your tongue when Mingi pulled out and began to slowly milk his cock, taking the rest of his load on your tongue, not swallowing and simply letting it drip down, a few drops spilling down your chin and getting onto your tits.

“Mm, that’s my messy girl. You’re waiting for me to feed it to you, huh?” Mingi licked at his plush lips from witnessing your obedient nod, pushing his soft cock back into his pants and waiting for you to stand up so that he could collect some of the cum that had escaped your mouth and pushed it back into your mouth. “That’s right, babygirl, clean it all up for me. Mm-hmm, just like that.”

Once you slurped the rest of his load off of his fingers, you wrapped your arms around Mingi’s neck, pressing your heated body into his. “Mingiiii, please fuck me, I can’t take it,” you begged him underneath your breath, pressing your lips onto his neck up to his tense jawline.

“Oh, yeah? You can’t live without this dick, can you?” he questioned you huskily, bringing his wrists up to his mouth one by one to pull his gloves off with his teeth, before reaching past your waist to roughly squeeze his warm hands into your ass. When you grimaced up at him, he tugged your skirt up and spread your ass open to run his fingers down your wet slit from behind, making you whimper. “Admit it, and i’ll fuck you stupid, princess.”

Swallowing down any remaining dignity you had along with the remnants of your ex’s load, you lifted one leg up to hook it around his slim waist, allowing him easier access to you wet cunt, shuddering at the sensation of him shallowly slipping his fingers into and out of you just to tease you. “I can’t live without your cock, Mingi, okay? No one fucks me like you do, so please, make me yours.”

Mingi rubbed the abundant wetness around your cunt, licking his lips hungrily, staring down at you past his dark shades. “Right here? Right now?”

“Yes.”

“What if someone sees, princess?”

“I don’t give a fuck if someone sees, just fuck me, please!”

Mingi grinned crookedly, finding deep amusement in your desperation, considering how you were acting just a little while ago. “Where’s your car, baby?”

You pointed down the dark alleyway. “It’s just around the corner over there.��

Mingi looked over his shoulder, then picked you up from the ground, hooking both of your thighs around his waist and carrying you over to your car, massaging his hands into your thighs on the way. “I don’t have any condoms, you know.”

When Mingi laid you down on the hood of your car, the cool metal sending goosebumps up and down your exposed, heated skin, you shook your head and smiled softly. “When has that ever stopped you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t love when I fuck you raw, and leave you stuffed full of my cum…” Still in between your legs, Mingi bent down to leave kisses, licks, and bites along your neck and collarbone, lowering his pants down just enough to free his length, his slick cock growing hard and heavy against your bare cunt. “Fuck, and when I use my fingers to shove my nut back inside your cunt after…mm, I’m honestly surprised you’re not knocked up for me already…”

“Mingi,” you whined disapprovingly, despite the fresh wave of slick coating your ex’s cock as it repeatedly rubbed back and forth along your cunt.

“What, I thought you liked being my cumslut…my little breeding bitch…my pump n’ dump princess…” Mingi recited playfully, teasing your fluttering hole with the tip of his cockhead, just about driving you to the brink of insanity withi his teasing.

“Shut up, Min, oh my god…”

“Why don’t you shut me up then?” he suggested, hovering close enough to your face for you to pull him in for a desperate kiss that consisted mainly of tongue and teeth, your mouths occasionally making contact in between tongue swipes and lip bites, the both of you panting all the while.

Growing impatient, you slipped your fingers into his choppy hair, tugging his head back until your lips parted, a few strands of saliva still connecting them. “If you don’t put your cock inside me in the next two seconds, I’m going to bite it off. You hear me, Song Mingi?”

Groaning breathily when you tugged at his hair again, Mingi let out a few soft chuckles, taking his shades off and setting them down on the corner of the hood. “Using my government name like that….I must’ve teased you too much. My poor angel, so desperate for cock. I’ll fuck you good, baby. I’ll make it up to you,” he sighed, as he wrapped his fingers around his length, guiding the tip to your entrance and sliding all the way in with ease, the both of you letting out obscene moans. Without any hesitation, Mingi began to buck his hips wildly, his metal belt banging against the hood of your car with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. You feel that? Is it good for you?”

“Yes…!” you cried out, barely about to speak, let alone function, now that your beloved ex was rearranging your guts with his colossal cock.

Huffing, Mingi threw your legs up over his shoulders and laid his body weight on you, essentially folding you in half. He ran his tongue along your jaw, before nipping at it, whispering, “God, you’re always so fucking tight, princess. Gonna milk me for all I’ve got, huh? Cuz’ you’re my good little slut, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh, just for you, Minnie…”

“Mm-hmm, that’s why you’re still here even after you broke up with me earlier, baby…why you’re taking my cock on the hood of your car where anyone can see you…” Mingi continued, squeezing his hands into the plumpness of your thighs, getting a good grip on them, so that he could drive himself into you as hard as he possibly could, punching short, breathy moans out of you. “You sound so pretty for me, baby, and fuck, you’re so wet right now….You’re gonna cream all over my cock, aren’t you?”

As soon as it felt like Mingi’s oversized cock had slammed directly into your cervix, you let out an abrupt yell, an overwhelming amount of pleasure suddenly shooting through your body like lightning. “Fuck…! I’m cumming, Minnie, it’s so– oh my god.” You were gonna start whimpering and crying when Mingi gently placed his warm hand over your mouth, watching him nod his head knowingly at you, his suddenly softened gaze never leaving yours.

“That’s a good girl, such a good girl for me, Y/N,” Mingi sighed against your ear, the hot, wet sounds of your bodies colliding together and the ringing inside your ears almost too loud for you to hear him properly. Feeling your wetness pour out onto his cock, Mingi let go of your mouth and cradled your face instead, pressing slow, meaningful kisses onto your lips, a few drops of sweat dripping along the shaved sections of his hair just as your trembling fingers drifted along it. “Want it inside, yeah?”

“Yeah…” you whispered against his moving lips, not even realizing when you were clutching him impossibly close to you.

“That’s my baby…” Mingi pulled all the way out, your mixed arousal forming a milky foam around the base of his cock, before he slowly pushed all the way back in, just in time for him to paint your insides white with his seemingly endless load. He hugged you close to him all the while, pressing kiss and kiss onto your lips, face, and neck, knowing that your turbulent time together was about to come to an end, and wishing he could turn the clock back to spend another second with you.

Once your highs began to fade, you cleared your throat and slowly sat up, the both of you silently fixing your disheveled clothes and hair in a poor attempt to look presentable in the case of a random passerby.

“So…since you don’t have my keys, I’m not sure how I’m gonna get out of here,” you sighed, about to push yourself off of the hood of your car when Mingi helped you off instead, annoyed that he was suddenly acting gentlemanly when he had shown you nothing of the sort beforehand.

Smiling apologetically, Mingi fished around in one of his pockets and held your keys up to you. “I took them out of your purse before the show started.” Seeing the anger blossom on your pretty, flushed face, he continued, “Listen, I just wanted you to hear me out before you left and never came back to me, baby. I love you.”

You snatched the keys out of his hand and crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back to sit on the hood of your car, keeping your thighs pressed together to keep everything from leaking out of you. “You don’t get to say that after you just made me your ‘pump n’ dump princess’, you idiot.”

“But I didn’t dump you, Y/N. You’re the one who dumped me!” Mingi whined, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, his brown eyes growing wide and puppy-like.

You couldn’t help but begin to laugh, not only at the ludicrous situation you were both in, but at the truth of his statement. Wiping a tear from your eye, you clicked your keys to unlock your car and walked around to the driver’s side.

“Where are you going? Are you leaving me?”

“No, we’re going to the store to get Plan B, dummy. I’m not about to let Mingi Jr. run around and terrorize the city,” you replied, gazing at your ex, the sight of his childlike amusement making you feel a bit soft towards him.

“I call shotgun!” Mingi called, eagerly heading to the passenger door, practically bouncing on his heels.

“There’s only two of us,” you giggled, sitting down in the car with him.

“For now.” Mingi wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You turned the ignition on, shaking your head, the corners of your lips hurting from how long you had been smiling. “Never say that shit again.”

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grugruel · 1 year ago

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The Girl Who Cried Cowboy

Parings: dbf!cowboy!bucky x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: When drinking too much at one of her father's summer parties, she realises just how inappropriate her feelings are for her fathers best friend. And he has to drive her home.

Word count: 3.2

Warnings: cowboy hat, rough sex, pinv sex, kintchen-counter sex (woooh), doggy, creampie, praise, strong feelings, "I love you", mutual pining, tension, pet names (sweetheart, girl, ma'am, darlin', woman), slight angst, sundress kink, hair pulling.

Low chatter and calm music soothed her, tuning her mind to familiar nostalgia as she faded into memory of old summer nights.

Nights much like this one.

The singing birds, the perfectly temperatured air, and the warm kisses from the last rays of the setting sun.

Her parents' big grass-clad backyard in which she sometimes slept, like now, she enjoyed the infiltrating clovers that softened the ground beneath her.

And the blue open sky that stretched above her like a lustriously painted ceiling. It was deep at this hour, but not dark. Even so, it slowly lightened as it merged into the pastel colors of the horizon.

Her world whirled, stretching and contracting mildly as a slight buzz from her many emptied beers took a pleasant hold of her senses. She smiled, putting the half spilled bottle to her lips once again. Not minding one bit that she had toppled over, rather just loving the way the grass tickled her skin as her sheer sundress bunched high on her thighs. Especially enjoying the way it moved against her nipples, now very glad she'd opted out of wearing a bra today–

'You sure know how to catch my attention, sweetheart.' A voice mused.

She faced its source but already knew who it belonged to, its presence only making her night better. He'd always been her favorite out of her dad's friends.

The sun painted her face a golden orange, as she turned toward him. A tall, blurry figure stood by her side, she squinted, and a handsome cowboy materialised. The shapes forming him steadied. She could make out the gruff hands around his belt buckle, his face, and the cowboy hat on his head. Which was busy shielding his eyes from the sun, their intent gaze observing her from beneath its rim.

She smiled knowingly. 'Buck!' She erupted, throwing her arms upward as if to hug him from the ground, spilling beer all around her in the process. 'Join me.' She giggled, and her arms fell to pat the ground at her sides.

The cowboy shook his head with a chuckle. He had never been able to say no to her.

Her bare, bent knees lulled against his lap as she moved closer to his relaxed form. She took another swig of beer, then pointed at the sky above them.

Towering over their laying forms, the sky held a full moon in its mixing colors, the suns reflection only illuminating its silvery brightness and amplifying the contrasts.

'Ain't it pretty?'

His wandering eyes roamed her face, the alcohol fueled blush that adorned it, and the strands of wild hair that framed her like a canvas. He wanted noting more than to push them behind her ears so he could admire her in full. He willed his eyes from traveling south. He could not, it was unfair to her and her father.

He hummed. 'Sure is.'

She shut her eyes, attempting to collect herself. It must be the alcohol, surely. But she hadn't even had that much to drink, had she? She placed the hat on her head properly. Forgetting herself entierly.

She faced him again, meeting his eyes. He watched the blush expand across her face as she realised it was her that he was talking about. The girl, suddenly shy. Grabbed his hat from his head and covered her giggling face. His charm was dangerous, she couldnt help herself around him. Her face poked out from beneath the hat, eyes studying him carefully as he looked back up at the moon. The colors of the sky and the green of the grass running parallel to his profile. His forehead, nose, lips, and chin placed perfectly in between them, running like a mountain range in a horizon. She got a strong urge the kiss his perfectly handsome face– ugh, fuck. . .

'Buck?'

He hummed.

'Could you drive me home?' She just needed to sleep it off, these feeling would be gone in the morning. She was sure.

He looked back at her. '. . .'Course darlin.' His eyes wandered over his hat, on her head. His lips tightened into a line as he cleared his throat.

The girl nodded. 'Can you tell dad? I hate to leave the party early, but I think I over did the drinkin'. . .' She lied. She wasn't sick, nor drunk, drunk. She just felt too guilty to speak with her dad directly when these types of thoughts ran rampid about his best friend.

Her world devolved into streaks of color as he pulled her to her feet. The booze affected body betrayed her as the footing failed beneath her feet– she collided with his chest, and his quick hands shot to her waist– catching her before she took another tumble. 'Easy there.' His drawl in full effect.

He laughed, but nodded. 'He'll understand, im sure. Your father's a wise man.' And grabbed her shoulder, and squeezing it reassuringly. Then stood, and held his hand out for her to take.

Everything whirled around her, everything except him. She could see him perfectly clear. The pair locked eyes, enjoying the feeling of his big hands molding to her waist. Something tugged on them, pulling them closer to each other. Lips brushing, noses touching. She felt dizzy, the pair of them hiding their faces under the brim of his hat. It somehow felt easier. Hands slipping to her hips, squeezing. Their heavy breathing, drinking each other in, and the squeeking of the patio door– in horror they pulled off of each other, akwardness seeping into the space between them. She kept her eyes on the ground as she realised she was wearing his hat. She'd put it on, hadn't she? Oh. . . Fuck– but she had no time to worry about its insinuations right now, and quickly removed it, pushing it back into Bucky's hands.

'Ah, there you both are!' It was her dad, walking in a straight line toward them.

She prayed he hadn't seen anything. As everyone had moved the party inside when the night began to fall.

He slapped a hand on buckys shoulder, greeting him happily.

Thank god, she sighed in relief.

But there was an akward silence, where none of them said much of anything for a second.

'Whats goin' on, who died?' Her father joked, a dry chuckle following it. But a tinge of true uncertainty lingered in his voice as he looked at them with skeptical eyes.

'Im just not feelin' to good.' She scrambled to explain, as bucky scratched his neck, not managing to come up with a good excuse himself. 'I was thinkin' of headin' home. Buck'll drive me.'

Her father gave her a slanted smile and ruffled her hair. 'Yeah? To much to fast?'

She nodded, a faint smile on her lips. 'Sorry.'

He tilted his head, searching her eyes. 'Dont apologize sweetheart. Its ok. I'll see ya' later, yeah?'

She nodded again, and he kissed her on top of her head.

She loves her dad, and to prove it she'd almost kissed his best friend. Shame gnawed at her, she couldn't do that to him.

He turned to Bucky. 'You comin' back later then?'

'I'm not sure.' Bucky dared a flicker of a glance in her direction, and lowered his voice. 'Gotta get 'er home first, make sure shes alright.'

Her father nodded, seamingly appreciating the gesture. If he only knew.

'But you'll notice if I turn up.' Bucky laughed, attempting a joke to defuse the situation and playfully hit her father on the arm.

He smiled. 'Well, alright, good then. Drive safe.' The men gave each other a short embrace. 'Thank you, Buck. You're a good friend.' She heard her father whisper as they patted each other on the back warmly.

Guilt, shame, neither could begin to describe what she was feeling. She'd need to invent a new word for it.

The walk to the truck was quiet. The only proof of the life altering almost-kiss was the comforting hand he placed on her back, and now held much more meaning than that in which an old friend once had.

The sun disappeared beyond the distant treeline. A big wheatfield separated it from the dirtroad they found themselves driving down. Trees lined its path, their leafy crowns casting a high overhang above them.

Oh, how stunning, but the window would not wind down. Frustrated, she pushed it repeatedly. Her mind was not wrapping around the fact that it just wouldn't work, pure stubbornness egging her on. As she dared not ask Bucky for help. They'd been riding in silence ever since the encounter with her dad–

'You feelin' any better?' He asked, clearing his throat. The anxious avoidance of speaking had created a croak in it.

She had too much on her mind. She was overheating, just wanting some air. 'I'm fine, just a little warm.' The button was taunting her, no matter how hard she pushed it.

'Just– slow down, doll.' Bucky reached over her seat to unlock the door, then pushed the button to lower the window. Oh. . .

Sweet relief, she leaned her head against the frame of the open window. The freshness of nature and its many scents rolled into the truck in waves of pure air, clearing her mind of what it could. But as it mixed and matched with Buckys own, his perfume and masculine musk, rubbed her senses just right. It began working in the opposite effect.

'Thank you.' She spared him a glance, smiling faintly. Immidietly regretting it as she was reminded of how good he looked in the hat.

His hand fell from the door to her knee. It was supposed to be a harmless gesture, one he'd done may times before. 'You're welcome, sweetheart.'

Oh. . But this time, everything slowed, shes sure of it. Flames that should not have sparked inside her were now, in fact, raging. She screwed her eyes shut. Damp breeze, floweres, grass, birds. . . She tried to focus, to think of something else, but– hand, his hand. Moving in slow-motion, squeezing the flesh above her knee. Then, the loss of his touch.

Her eyes shot open, and suddenly, time hastened again– she grabbed his hand and without even thinking, replaced it higher on her thigh. Her eyes widened in realisation, and she felt the cowboys eyes bore into her. God, it's hard to breathe all of a sudden.

'Girl. . .' There laid warning in his tone. They were headed into dangerous territory. Yet without heeding his own warning, his fingers dug into her upper thigh, eyes landing on the pushed up skirt of her dress. He grabbed it between his fingertips and pulled it down, exhaling a big breath as if it took everything in him not to do the opposite.

She shook her head in compressed motions, the feeling of his skin was heavenly. His hand alone, without touching any crucial parts of her, set her aflame. Hesitation still lingering in her body as she fought her thoughts.

The car screeched to a halt, they'd arrived at her house. Fuck, thank, god.

She reached for the door, realising in horror that she still held onto his hand. As she made to shake herself free, he entwined his fingers with hers and sighed, knowing full well why she was in such a rush. 'Hold on now, darlin', slow down.' He met her eyes. 'Let me help you down, at least.'

Breathe, she willed herself, and nodded to him. Waiting impatiently for Bucky to open her door. Her world spinning, the real problem was that it simply wasn't alcohol induced anymore.

The door opened, and he gripped her waist, lifting her out in a swift motion. Her skin– well, everything tingled at his touch. He set her down, on steady feet, and unsteady mind. 'We should talk about this.' He tried, following her as she marched toward her door.

'About what? There's nothing to talk about.'

'Darlin'. . .'

'Stop.' She whipped around to face him. 'Just stop. I'm not your darlin', 'N I'm sure as hell not your sweetheart.' She hissed and continued walking. The words hurt her as much as they must've hurt him. God, the walk to her house felt never ending.

'I just– I care for you sweeth–' He stopped, footsteps no longer sounding behind her. '. . .'N I love your father too. I've known him for most of my life. Feeling this way 'bout ya' doesn't come for free.'

Too? He said "too" didn't he?

She turned around. 'Too?' Her knees felt weak, her mind muddled by conflicting thoughts of her father and the man in front of her. And he was quite a sight, the picture of a cowboy in fact. Putting weight on one leg, he held his belt, and his hat covered his face as he tilted it down in silent brooding. How she imagined all cowboys did.

He sighed. 'Well–' shoulders shrugging. 'What'ya expect, beautiful as you are. Inside 'n out.' He walked up to her. His hand reached for her face. She should back away. She knew she should, but her feet wouldn't move. The backs of his fingers stroked strands of hair from her face, thumb caressing her cheekbone, his touch gentler than any man before him.

He laid his forehead against hers. 'I love y–'

She kissed him. He could not utter those words. Not yet. This was not the time.

Electricity shocked her nervous system. She could feel his hunger as he cupped her face, deeping the kiss. Yet, his needy lips slowed themselves for her sake, her uncertainty.

She pulled free, gasping for breath as she had forgotten it was a necessity and grabbed his hand, leading him to the house. Eyes looking back at him, speaking more than words ever could. It was just the matter of interpreting them.

He stood leaning against her kitchen counter, observing her as she sauntered toward him. Dress billowing around her thighs. Was this really happening?

He reached for her, laying his hands at her waist and taking the fabric of her dress between his fingers, pulling her toward him. 'I really do, you know.'

Her hand reached up to comb through his hair. 'Save it.' She smiled, her other hand sliding over her dress, stopping at her waist where the bow that tied the dress together was. Slowly, as he kept his eyes locked on hers. She pulled on the string, letting it come undone, and her dress fell open.

Bucky made a sound between a gasp and a moan, barely daring to take his eyes from hers. 'I'm at your mercy, sweet girl. Tell me what to do.' He breathed, eager fingers waiting for her approval.

His words were setting butterflies to flight. Her free hand grabbed his, and led it between the fabric of her dress and her body. Laying it atop her breast. 'Touch me.' She whispered.

Shivers, shivers, and goosebumps spread in waves over her chest as his fingers came in contact with her soft flesh.

She advanced, and he obliged her request as his other hand ran down her side, snaking around her back and grabbing her ass to pull her closer against his chest.

'Please. . .' He pleaded. 'I need to feel you.' His hands squeezed her breast, producing a whimper from her lips. 'Taste you.' He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers, lining her bottom lip with his tongue. 'Anything, anything you're willin' to give me.'

Her brows furrow in tortured pleasure. Waves of pressure inside her that had no outlet, nowhere to go except to her core and mind. Her thoughts were mere static at this point, all of them reduced to neurons.

'Take all of me. . . All at once.' She exhaled, the air that they exchanged with one another merged into one unisome breath.

A pained grunt. 'You sure?' He grabbed his hat to remove it.

She grabbed his hand, stopping. 'You better keep that hat on,' she warned, then nodded. 'And, im sure.' She looked into his eyes. 'Now. . . fuck. me.' She demanded.

With that, he grinned and spun her around, pressing her up against the counter. Hips colliding with the countertop in a hard thud, but she did not care. All she wanted was him, and for this short moment when they were together, truly together, her father could be damned.

His hands ran up the side of her thighs, hiking her skirt onto his wrist, and flipped it over her ass. She groaned in pain. 'Can't wait any longer, hurry up.'

'Easy girl. . ' He slowed her as he tugged her pretty lace panties to the side, moaning at the sight of her. 'Stunnin'. . '

Her mind fogged, she disappeared for a moment, not really thinking about what was happening until she heard his belt buckle and then, finally. She felt him.

His hand moved to her hip as the other aligned his tip with her entrance, and without any more thinking and delaying, he pushed inside.

A mix between a whimper and a moan pushed its way out of her lungs. 'Fuck, yes.'

Her hands braced against the countertop, protecting her hipbones against the hard surface as he began thrusting.

But it wasn't enough. 'C'mon cowboy, harder.' A moan and breath combined into one.

His hand slid up her back, unintentionally tickling her the entire way. He grabbed her hair and circled it around his fist, then held her steady as he pushed himself into her even rougher.

'Mmmh. .' She hummed. But she needed more. She'd waited so long for this that she'd be damned if there wouldn't be bruises to remember him by. 'You can do better. . Mhh- fuck.' She moaned, struggling to get her words out as he bent over her, his thrusts reaching even deeper. He leveled his head with hers, and bit into her shoulder. His blissfull muffled moans made right at her ear, and along with them came the hot puffs of breath and the dirty sounds of slapping skin. Everything scratched the nervous center in her brain, just right. 'Yeah. . . Like that, mhm. . Show me how much you, uh-huh. –need me.' She managed, her words stuttering and stumbling.

'Feels so good.' He groaned. 'My darlin' girl.'

She no longer protested. She was his, in every sense of the word. And she loved it

'Yours, just yours.' She breathed.

'Good girl.' He moaned, obviously approving of her recognition.

She could not take much more. '. . 'M close Buck.'

He nodded, his forehead resting against her shoulder. She could barely make out his nodding against her shoulder in response. He must be close, too.

'I need to see ya' girl– wanna see ya'. . . See ya' cum.'

She couldn't answer. She only moaned in approval. But it was enough for him. His swollen member had her walls clenching, sucking and squelching around his member. Pulling him closer and closer to the edge.

He pulled out of her, spun her around, and lifted her by the hips onto the counter. His strength would never, not turn her on. And without missing a beat, slammed back into her again. 'Fuck! Just like that cowboy.' She cried. Their lips meeting in needy, rushed movements as they both approached their climax. Knots tightening, pressure building, and pressure realising.

In blinding hot waves, pleasure coursed through her as her orgasm finally arrived. 'Oh, girl. .' he moaned, sounding close to a whimper as it was uttered against her lips and into her mouth. 'My good, good girl.'

Oh, she wanted to cry. She wanted to cry so badly. But Bucky got there first, as he too came. Tears of joy and pleasure fell down his cheeks as powerful spurts of seed filled her core, and he collapsed to his knees. Throwing his arms around her hips, his head lulled into her lap.

'I love you.' He murmured, kissing her thighs in slow, sloppy kisses. Lovingly holding his arms tightly around her, afraid she'd disappear. He uttered, 'I love you.' Over and over again, between and during his kisses, it did not matter to him. He just needed to say it, and for her to hear it.

She watched him with awe, how could she never have known, or felt– not even seen a glimpse of the man before her, a man that worshipped her in this way. She ran her hands through his hair, scratching his scalp and nape soothingly as she smiled. Heart filled to the brim, for him.

'I love you too, Buck.' She whispered. 'Love you terribly, I think have for a long time, cowboy.'

He looked up at her, his chin resting on her knees as she slumped back against the cabinets, both catching their breaths. 'You'll be the death of me, woman.' Another tear rolled down his cheek, but there was no sorrow. Only proof of powerful stimulation, along with long pent-up feelings and needs.

She jumped off of the counter. 'Need ya' once more, before you head back.'

He grabbed her wrist and kissed his way up her forearm from his place on the floor. 'Yes, ma'am.'

She laid an index finger under his chin, tilting his face upward so their eyes could meet. 'Good. . .' She lifted the hat from his head, and placed it on herself with a smile. '. . .'Cause I still gotta ride ya'.'

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky #bucky smut #bucky x femalre reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanficition #bucky imagine #cowboy!bucky #dbf!bucky #smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic

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revelboo · 2 months ago

Note

[/slams a request form on your desk like an over zealous court room anime dude]

Mx.Revel, consider this a request of the utmost importance! This request is for none other than your personal favorite cybertronian, whom ever they may be.

Thank you for your time, your honor, I concede.

That’s Wheeljack, buuuut how about an angst ficlet? Was thinking about how utterly ill equipped Shockwave is to deal with emotions other than anger and a scenario where Soundwave is grieving a cassette. Shock wanting to do something for his friend, basically the only Cybertronian that doesn’t find him deeply unsettling, and he doesn’t understand he can’t just replace the cassette with something near the same size. Honestly, I just wanted to do an alternate take with these two. Title is ‘Clumsy Heart’ by The Matches

Clumsy Heart

IDW Shockwave x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Servos of his one hand flexing as the uncomfortable noise in his processor grows, those invasive thoughts and shadows of memory that aren’t his floating to the surface, half seen and hazy. Watching Soundwave cradle the still form of a cassette to himself, the way his servos ghost over that small shape making the chaos worse. Becoming uncomfortable, unable to really understand this grief, but realizing that he should know this. That he hates this. He can repair the frame, but the spark is gone. Senses his friend won’t appreciate it if he resurrects a pale shadow, even if he’s not sure why he knows that.

• Spark aching at the loss, Soundwave is aware of his other cassettes echoing his pain. Of Shockwave lingering nearby, head tipped to study him like his grief is something foreign and fascinating. “Leave me,” he says, servos gently touching that little face. Had they looked for him at the end? Knowing he’d be there in time to save them like he always is. All of them trusting without question that he’ll protect them. And he’d failed. Feels like coming apart, losing something so dear to him, a part of him. Finally, Shockwave drifts away, leaving him to grieve with his surviving cassettes.

• Leaving the base, trying to get rid of that tangling, unpleasant feeling of dissonance, Shockwave tips his head up to the night sky. Trying to understand. Wanting to. Can’t bring back the cassette, but he can find a replacement. Something similar. If it’s the loss of a small symbiote he cares for that is paining Soundwave, maybe another small thing he can care for will ease that grief? Doesn’t know, can’t really understand why he grieves at the loss. Everything dies. It’s inevitable. And it’s illogical to mourn the inevitable. Striding into the night, he ponders replacements. Something that can speak with him like a cassette. Something small and alive. One of the little, organic natives would do.

• Breath fogging in the morning air, you check the rifle. Exhausted after being up all night finding every single photo he’s in and cutting out his face. Taping those hateful little visages all over his Xbox, all his games, those stupid baseball cards and then lining them up for execution on the lawn. A petty bit of satisfaction as you line up the first shot and fire. For the bra hanging on the back of a kitchen chair. A game disc explodes in jagged shards. For those slutty lace panties on your kitchen counter. The cards aren’t as satisfying, just scattering. For that bitch in your bed and the look on his face when you’d come home early because work was slow. Slowly, picking targets and destroying them since you can’t go after him, he’s not worth it. The crap he’d left when you’d grabbed the rifle and chased him and her naked out of your house last night? Fair game.

• Is this a valid course of action? It seems logical. If something has been lost and is causing a problem, replacing it should resolve the issue. Aware that it might be a bit more nuanced than that, because of emotions he can’t grasp, he moves through the woods outside the base. It’s a sound theory and it can’t make things worse to try. Probably. That, too, eludes him. An answer that relies on emotion.

• Reloading the rifle, you hear a branch crack and come crashing down in the woods behind you. Making you flinch and nearly drop the gun. It’d been windy the day before, a branch must have broken. Turning toward the sound, your mouth falls open as a giant steps out of the woods, a single red optic finding you, antenna flicking up. “Acceptable,” it growls as the fine hair at your nape prickles. Opening fire on it as it strides your way, completely unfazed. Dropping the rifle to run, you scream as it bends and snags you in a giant hand.

• Still weighed down by grief even after laying the cassette to rest, Soundwave’s head lifts at the sound of screaming. Of terror and pain that goes right through so soon after his own loss. Freezing as he spots Shockwave entering his quarters and his attention drops to the small form wriggling like mad in his grip. Speechless as the scientist drops the human on the desk and the tiny creature lunges to their feet and runs, only to stop short as they hit the edge and realize how high up it is. Can feel the chaos and fear in their mind, that panic so bright and hurtful. “A replacement,” Shockwave says, gesturing at the terrified thing with his cannon. Like it’s as simple as that. Like a human can replace his cassette. That people are interchangeable. Turning away from the edge, terrified eyes look up at him and that fear nearly cripples him. You can’t replace what he’s lost, but you do need him. Hates Shockwave right then and those frightened eyes.

#transformers x reader #shockwave x reader #idw soundwave #soundwave x reader #idw shockwave

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nastyaromatherapy · 1 year ago

Text

"All yours" (18+)

You're left home alone with your stepbrother Ethan.

Tried to make a dark fic for (this) request (sorry if it isnt dark enough😭)

pairing - perv!StepBrother!Ethan Landry x fem!reader

one shot length, 1.7k+ word fic

warnings: dub con, stepcest, corruption kink, I lowkey have a voice kink so ethan talks A LOT, slightly innocent reader

Your mom always told you to cover up around your stepbrother, Ethan. But you always asked her, "why?" He was your brother after all.

So, when your mom and stepdad were out for dinner, and your stepsister was at a study session, you naturally broke the rules. The house was hot- and your parents didn't let you blast the air conditioning.

You walked through the living room where Ethan watched tv wearing spandex, and a thin white tee without a bra. Instantaneous boner for Ethan. He covered it up with a decorative pillow.

"Your mom okay with you wearing that?" He asks you as you wander into the kitchen for a soda. "What does it matter?" You respond. "Care to join me?" He asks, patting the seat next to him on the sofa. You turn to see the tv, it was a horror film. You shook your head profusely.

"Come on, don't be lame," he said, throwing his head back, exposing his adam's apple. "I'll buy you pizza," he bargains. "Fine," you say, plopping your ass onto the cushion. He immediately smirks and slaps the opened can out of your hand, making it spill on the floor.

"Ethan!" You yelled, annoyed. When you bent down to grab the can he slapped your ass hard, probably making a mark. You shoot your head back, "Stop being a perv."

He chuckled to himself as you cleaned the mess, now squatting to prevent further pestering.

You sat with him on the couch and he turned on the movie. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you give in to his warm, brotherly touch.

Suddenly on screen there's a jump scare and you jump, accidently rubbing your forearm on his erect cock, making him groan. "Fuck, I'm sorry," you apologized. "You keep doing that!" He says annoyed through gritted teeth.

"What?" You ask confused. "You keep touching me there, like you want me to get hard." You were utterly bewildered. What was he talking about? "Ethan what the fuck are you-" "just shut the fuck up. You're a slut. Admit it."

Truth is you haven't touched him once. Well besides the part with a jump scare. He needed an excuse for him being hard.

"I have nothing to admit," you say. He bites his cheek, looking at the ceiling with an astonished look. "You're really just gonna say that? Okay so if I felt in between your legs right now," he started as he got closer to your ear. "You wouldn't be wet?"

You weren't before, but his words sent shivers down your spine causing you to pool into your spandex. "I won't," you chuckled out, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Uhuh," he sounded, fingers reaching for your dampening crotch.

"Ethan c'mon," you whined. "Let's just watch the movie." He shook his head. "Not till we find out if you're a liar or no." You pulled away from his clutch, which made it easy for him to push you onto your back. You sat up with your elbows, and as you got up you felt a sense of heat in your core.

You look down to see Ethan's fingers, teasing the cloth that covered your pussy. You whimper at his touch and quickly close your legs. You notice his mouth corners start to curl up. He knew you were wet, could feel through your bottoms. But he pretended as if he didn't know.

"'Kay, whatever, let's just watch the damn movie." You got back up into his arms as the movie continued to play. It seems everything just went back to normal.

After awhile, however, Ethan started grazing his fingers on your clit through the fabric of your spandex. You shivered a little when reunited with his touch. He held back a chuckle when he saw your cute reaction, biting your lip to keep composure.

His motions were put together and circular, definitely not accidental. Your breathing grows heavier and your chest heaves. He gets a good look at your perky nipples poking out of your tight tee.

You involuntarily inch your legs wider, giving him more access to your parts. You whimper when he presses down harder against your clit, and grab onto him a little tighter. He groans at your grip.

You start to grind against his hand, humping it, desperately needing more friction. You weren't even thinking, just mindlessly fucking your brother's hand.

Your juices and cum start to seep through your spandex, leaving slimy, sticky residue on your crotch area. When Ethan feels it on his fingers, he removes his hand, making you whine. "Not a slut, huh? As if you didn't just take your stepbrother's hand without hesitation." You look at him, ashamed of yourself, ashamed you'd let him touch you in that way.

"Not gonna answer? That's okay, it's better for bitches to shut up." He grabs you by your waist and pulls you onto his lap. He guides you by your hips on his sweat pant covered boner. "Ethan," you moaned out. "We shouldn't." You said, sounding hesitant. "Oh but we've come so far," he said, reaching under your shirt to grope your breasts which made you gasp. "Be a shame to just stop now."

You felt disgusted at your self, but he was right. He was so hard, and you were so wet. Why stop now?

"I wonder how many men have had the pleasure of being inside you," he inquired as he shut his eyes, just imagining. "J-just my boyfriend," you stuttered out. His eyes shot open. "You've only ever had sex with your boyfriend of 3 months?" You nodded. "And I didn't like it."

He chuckled, bucking his hips into yours. "Oh you're gonna love it with me." You shook your head. "Ethan we really can't, you're my brothe-" he slammed his lips onto yours, forcing your plush ones to meet his chapped, grabbing your head from behind. You restrained at first but in the end you gave in. He was pretty damn good at it.

He pulled away and slipped your top off, being quick to take a breast into his mouth. He looked up at you with dark eyes as he sucked on its bud, making your heat throb. You moaned and continued to grind on his length, hornier than ever. He massaged the lonely one in his hand as he continued to feast on your tit, groaning into it. "Ethan," you moaned out, twisting fingers in his hair.

He pulled off of your puffy nipple, "Fuck, on your knees baby." You got on your knees in front of him and his sweats and boxers dropped to his ankles. His cock sprung out, resting on his lower abdomen. He takes hold of the lower shaft, guiding it towards your mouth. "Ever suck a cock, baby?" You shook your head a no. "It's easy. Just take as much as you can and don't use your teeth." His teaching was painfully vague, but you were desperate to taste him anyways you might've just been a natural.

You opened for him, letting his head slip in. "Fuck," he panted out. You took in about a fourth of his length, tasting every vein and every muscle. God was he tasty. You slowly got the hang of it, being able to take a little more of him. Ethan had his head thrown back in ecstasy, groaning and whining.

He looked at you, and it was a sight. Hair messy, eyes wide and teary with fluttering eyelashes, and of course your tits were hanging out in full view. He went to grip the back of your head, becoming in control of your movements, but he didn't go to deep.

"What do you think our parents would think, hm?" He asked. You just didn't want to think about it. "Plastered on the ground for me so prettily," he says smirking. "Sucking off her brother's cock? God. Fuck," he says breathily, pulling out of your mouth. Your saliva dripped off of his throbbing length.

"Bet they're so proud," he teases, laying out on the couch and putting you on top of him, pulling off your spandex in the process. He reaches down for his cock, lining it up with your entrance. He teases around the sticky area, rubbing his tip all over your folds. "So wet," he whispers to himself.

"Ethan, please," you cry out, pussy aching. "Yeah? Want your brother to fuck you senseless?" He asks and you respond with a pleading nod.

He slides himself in your tight cunt. "Jesus christ," he groans, holding you in place by the hips as he thrusts up into you. Your legs shake and you moan high pitched and pathetically. "So fucking tight. Guess your boyfriend hasn't been stretching you out, huh?" He asks through gritted teeth, closing his eyes whenever he lets out a groan. "Whenever he fucks you again, he's not gonna find any pleasure in it cause i'm gonna leave you so loose," he says, gloating at his size.

"No, no one after this, just you," you whine as tears well in your eyes. "That so, baby? That works, we just gotta sneak better around our parents now. I'm gonna be fucking this pussy every fucking date night." Your walls clench around him, only making him go harder.

He lets go of you and you fall on top of him and whimper. "Fuck yourself on me baby, c'mon." You start riding him impatiently, needing desperately a release. He reaches for your jaw to pull you down into a hard kiss, teeth colliding. "Riding me so good- shit, yeah?" He says into the kiss. You moan into his mouth whenever your clit comes in contact with his groin, only adding more friction.

"You're mine now, yeah? Mine to use whenever I please?" He asks. "Mhm! Yes Ethan oh my god i'm yours," you scream out before you cum over his cock. A trickle of your warm cum coats his cock as you stop your movements in recovery. He gets a hold of your waist once more and thrusts a couple more times, just to get himself over the edge. With a final thrust he buries himself inside, thick cum painting your inner walls. The two of you lay together, huffing, covered in sweat. "All yours, Ethan." You whisper.

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blckbrrybasket · 4 months ago

Text

1. “Hotter Than A Burning Fire”

Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader

꒰Face Sitting + Inexperienced꒱ - 1.6k

• oral (f receiving), mentions of fingering and masturbation, friends to lovers

kinktober m.list

Your hand swept over the wrinkles of the blankets, smoothing them down only for another ripple to appear where you couldn’t reach it. A groan erupted from your mouth, only silenced when Robin dropped her hand on top of the ripple, eliminating it. You snickered and turned to look at her lying beside you, “Thank you,” you said in a sing-song voice.

Yet, she didn’t look as amused as she usually would. In fact, Robin looked worried. “Robin?” She blinked at her name, snapping out of whatever daze it was. You had no clue her trance was due to the fact you had abandoned your shirt on the floor from the heat. Robin had done the same, severely underestimating what seeing you in your underwear would do to her body and mind.

Both of you had your feet propped up on your respective pillows, laying upside down in the heated room. The summer in Hawkins was hot, but the humidity was unbearable at best. Even with your ceiling fan at full blast you were sticky from the muggy heat. Robin was in the same boat, except her shorts were more uncomfortably syrupy when she noticed the outline of your soft nipples under your bra.

So much was shown yet not enough. Robin had opted for wearing a pair of your smaller shorts, the secure material making it hard to ignore the slick being pressed back up against her heated skin. “Huh?” Robin asked blindly, turning her head to look at you. “Are you okay?” Your voice was breathless, laughing out your question at her red face.

Her mouth felt dryer than a fucking desert when she studied your face. Robin’s eyes felt a magnetic pull to look at your chest again, but she held back, internally panicking at her turmoil. “Yeah. No, yeah I’m okay…totally fine. Why?” The corner of your lips curled up towards a smirk, “You look a little hot over there.” If her cheeks hadn’t been red before, they were one hundred percent cherry red now.

“What!?” She blurted out to your shock and bemusement, shooting up. “You look…hot? Ohhhh!” You erupted into giggles, sitting up after her. “No, no, like temperature wise, Rob. But I mean, sure that way too.” Robin had died and gone to heaven, she was sure of it. Sometime between you taking your shirt off and the both of you lying down she had succumbed to heatstroke. “You can’t say that!”

“Why can’t I? I just did.” You teased, leaning into her space when you sensed her fluster. It didn’t take a fortune teller to show how riled up she was, your words aside. You honestly didn’t know how she had figured you wouldn’t notice the way her thighs had been rubbing together for the past few minutes. Robin choked, leaning back when you leaned towards her, your arm slithering around her waist to pull her back onto the bed, and you, when she slipped. “Careful,” you murmured smugly.

Shit. If that wasn’t the hottest thing she had heard, she didn’t know what was. All she could do was nod at your warning, leaning back into you. When she noticed your eyes trailing down she let hers fall, looking at her thighs spreading over your knees. It wasn’t the first time you’d been in a compromising position, not by a long shot. It also wasn’t the first time she felt like this.

She could go home and finger herself to quell the ache for a bit, but it always came back around you. Only you. She wanted you so badly it hurt, even without a notch of experience under her belt. You could take the lead, she wouldn’t mind one bit. Robin could sometimes mask how much you messed with her head, but watching a droplet of her arousal roll down her freckled thigh she knew there was no hiding that.

The click of your tongue had her perking her head up, lips parting in surprise when your fingertip swept up her inner thigh. “You’re that hot?” Your question was borderline a joke knowing it wasn’t sweat, but it offered her a way out. She felt the pause of your fingers, settling where you had smeared her wetness. However, your reaction spurred her on. You hadn’t seemed grossed out, the opposite of it with how your eyes were locked on the silhouette of her cunt in your shorts.

Robin couldn’t tear her eyes away from your face though, “No.” “Are you finally speechless?” The following silence answered your question, eyes finding her wide ones. “Need me to take care of that?” Surely, she was truly dead this time. Her slow nod wasn’t good enough for you, fingers sliding away. “Please,” she whined, face dropping to a pathetic pleading expression.

You grinned, all teeth when your fingers roughly hooked around the edge of your shorts, dragging her forward. “There’s my talkative girl.” Robin rewarded you with a shaky sigh, eyes falling shut as your fingers relaxed, turning to slide through her folds. You had no clue she had gone commando under your shorts, but the wet material you felt on the back of your knuckles removed any potential aversion to her choice. You’d use them later, but for now you needed to take care of her.

Robin’s folds were so swollen you could easily sink two flattened fingers between them and have them disappear without having to push them into her fluttering entrance. “Why don’t you get out of these?” If the offer wasn’t enough, the way your fingers curled to gently pet her pussy had her head reeling. “Good idea,” she rushed to bend over, your fingertips barely dipping into her cunt at the new angle, slipping out to give her space.

Her eyebrows pinched together when she whined, hurriedly shoving her shorts off. You watched as she squirmed in frustration, kicking them haphazardly. Granting her more room, you turned and laid back on your bed, licking your fingers clean. Her musk was tangy, wetness thick like molasses. Perfect.

Robin triumphantly let the shorts fall to the ground, slipping them off her ankle, when she raised her head to look at you. The shape of your fingertips poked at your cheeks as you sucked your fingers clean. “Jesus,” she sighed, stumbling to crawl over you. Robin seemed to realize what position you were in, pausing to hover over your abdomen.

You answered her before she needed to ask where to sit. Well…you answered in a way. Smirking, you tapped your lips with two fingers that still shone with your spit. “No way,” Robin gasped. “I’ll crush you!” You laughed at her statement, “Good way to go,” you murmured. The palms of your hands wrapped around the backs of her thighs, urging her up your body. Robin shakily moved up to kneel over your face.

“Are you sure?” Her voice came out as a squeak, cut off by you confidently pulling her down. The first thing you felt was the heat of her pussy soaking into your skin, the second being her actually soaking her skin. Robin whined, squirming as she tried to get used to sitting on your face while she held onto the headboard.

Only once she finally settled, did you draw your tongue up through her folds. Tasting her on your fingers was good, but nothing compared to it straight from the source. Instantly, Robin gave a wobbly mewl, not surprising you that she was loud. With how often she rambled on or was brash in day-to-day settings, it made it plausible that she was loud in bed. You definitely had never thought about it before.

Did it even matter to deny it anymore when Robin was humping your face so desperately? One second you were lapping languidly at her cunt, the next her hips speeding up newfound determination. Laying your tongue flat, you let her ride it as she pleased. “Oh shit, ohmygod. Thank you, thank you..” Any following words died in her throat as you flicked your tongue against her sensitive clit.

Something akin to a squeal left her lips, her hips jolting yet not moving far with your grip on her thighs keeping her to your face. Her hands clutched the wood of your headboard, straining under her grip and she knew she would be addicted to your mouth. Robin couldn’t find it inside herself to be embarrassed at the sounds her pussy made, molten on your mouth. You didn’t care either, pulling her down further to put your heart and soul into teasing her clit.

Swirling the tip of your sharp tongue around the bundle of nerves, your lips cupped it gently contrasting how you sucked adamantly. Robin fell farther into silence, at a loss for words, hips almost bouncing as she tilted her head back. Her blue eyes disappeared from sight, rolling back as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

She wished she could verbalize how good it felt, to keep doing that right there, but this was a rare occasion of her completely shutting up. The only indication of her impending release was her tensing body and the choked sound she finally let pass her chapped lips.

One, two, three sucks more and her thighs were clamped around your head. Your reward came as did she, salty cum dripping into your mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut at your happy moan when you hungrily drank her up. Stars burst behind her eyes at your continued ministrations, disgustingly loud sounds finally leaving her again.

You took the cue, reluctantly unlatching from her bullied pussy. Robin sat mounted on your face, head fuzzy until you tapped her thigh a moment later. She slowly moved back, sitting on your chest as she panted and looked down at you. “That good?” Even with her blurry vision she could see your wide smirk. “Shut up,” She smiled, leaning down to lick your soaked chin clean.

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @marirxse, @chx-rrryc0la, @adventures-of-impala, @shesadilema13

#robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley #robin buckley oneshot #robin buckley stranger things #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley smut #robin buckley fanfic #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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dunmeshichilchuck · 8 months ago

Text

For That One Guy on Tumblr part 5

Chilchuck x !fem !halffoot reader

Your first thought on waking up was to wonder what the hell you'd drunk last night to give you such a nasty hangover.

Your second thought was "is something...breathing on me?"

You opened your eyes and stared straight into the worried gaze of an uncomfortably close and extremely blond elf.

She sighed with apparent relief. "Oh thank goodness! You've been sleeping for hours! I thought maybe something had gone wrong with the resurrection spell and you might not wake up, it's just such an unknown area of resurrection magic as to how long someone can be dead before they're resurrected!"

You squinted, brain churning a long for a few minutes before you caught up with the fact that you had, in fact, died and been turned into a Popsicle. "Hrghhh....yeah...yeah 'm fine. Got one hell of a headache though. Why didn't you just wake me up if it's so late?"

Marcille fidgeted with her staff. "I wanted to but -" she shot a glare at the other party members. "They wouldn't let me!"

"It's not like it would make much sense to wake someone up just to make sure they still can wake up." Chilchuck grumbled. "do you want them fully recovered or not? They'll need to rest without you poking them awake every 10 minutes."

Laois nodded. "Yeah and if something WAS going wrong you'd be able to see it right? Falin told me if resurrection magic went wrong you'd just kinda melt!"

"You wouldn't- it's not melting! Why would you say it like that?"

You interjected before they could get going again. "Who's Falin?"

Chilchuck glanced over at you. "Falin's his sister." He gestured at Laois. "She's the main reason we're here. We were trying to rescue and ressurect her but something...." He glanced at Marcille briefly, an odd, almost warning look on his face. "went wrong. And now the mad mage has transformed her into something else and is controlling her." He shrugged. "If we want to get Falin back we're going to need to defeat the mad mage."

Huh, that was. Interesting.

"What...what exactly went wrong?" You asked, unsure if you actually wanted to know the answer.

Laois opened his mouth to say something, but Chilchuck shot him a glare and jumped in. "We don't know, she'd been dead for a long time and we had to reassemble her body." He shrugged again. "Who knows with resurrection magic? Shit just goes south sometimes."

Well that was even more interesting. With that and what you'd heard before they realized you were conscious....there was definitely some shady magical shit going down.

You looked at Marcille dubiously. Normally you'd think some kind of black magic, but was this prim and proper cream puff of a barely adult child really capable of crimes against god? For heavens sakes she'd been so embarrassed about the bra thing even. You couldn't picture her in combat, let alone casting some kind of banned black magic. She'd probably get too anxious and not be able to go through with it, and why would she even study that? It seemed like her field was relatively narrow if she didn't know the leaving spell.

Definitely very interesting, and potentially very dangerous. If they knew what you'd heard and what you suspected this could get very dicey for you. The best course of action would be to play dumb as a rock.

You nodded. "Oh yeah no I know, I don't know much about magic but I know ressurrection magic is one of those things that we don't know much about, right? Cause it's so new and everything. I've heard of some weeeiiiirrrddd stuff happening in other groups. People not fully resurrecting or even getting body swapped. And who knows how the mad mage is involved in that? Hell maybe he could control ANYONE resurrected in his dungeon, but he just went after your sister for some reason."

Lies. Blatant lies too. You weren't dumb and you'd asked as many questions as you could of the mage in your old group. You could even cast some basic healing magic if it came down to it. You'd only had one mage in the party, and you were the only one not directly involved in combat every time, so it made sense for him to teach you some quick and dirty spells in case he was incapacitated. Not that you'd ever reveal that, you knew what happened to halffoots who learned magic. Resurrection magic wasn't complicated at all. No way they weren't doing shady shit.

Laois and Marcille chimed in with agreements that sounded just a bit too relieved, but Chilchuck just shot you an indecipherable look and then turned back and said. "alright now that that's settled we need to get packed up and head out. We've wasted too much time waiting for y/n to wake up as it is."

You clenched your jaw and firmly reminded yourself that you were already in a precarious position, and that seemed to just be the way Chilchuck talked.

You could put up with it. You could put up with anything if it meant getting to take down the bastard that had built this dungeon.

Tag list, ask to tag:

@night-shadowblood-writes2

@thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry

@dunmeshimeshi

@leguink

@gh0st-spider

@reh-llik

@sy1v30n

@qardasngan

#chilchuk dungeon meshi #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck #chilchuk tims #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi x reader #for that one guy on tumblr

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bangchansgirlsblog · 1 year ago

Note

i’ve been craving this for ages and finally decided to request upon it!!

stray kids x little sister reader (she’s about 17/18) she has been having a secret relationship with one of her school teachers called Mr. Kang (name inspo from song kang) and she has a “sleepover” arranged with her friend for a week.. on day 3 the boys went for a group walk and saw y/ns friend with her family but without y/n. The boys go over and find out that you were never staying with her.. They check your location after panicking only to realise it’s your teacher Mr. Kang’s house. They log into your computer and find all the messages between Kang and you. They are infuriated, when you return back.. let’s just say it’s hell reincarnated.

Thank you daddy- I mean Mr.Kang.

Part one.

"We can't keep doing this.." she whispered through her heavy breathes. Her skirt was slowly riding up her thigh as her pink laced panties were slowly being exposed.

Her face was red due to the heat from the make out session she was just in. Her shirt now unbuttoned halfway exposing her bra.

"What do you mean baby," he whispered in her ear as his hands slowly wondered around her body. "Jump for me princess,"

She wasn't thinking at all. The thought of being pleasured by him was all she could think about. Her legs wrapped around his torso as he slowly put her on top of the desk, knocking down books and papers to the floor.

"My brothers are gonna find out about us soon Mr.Kang. They'll kill me-"

"Shhh, we'll worry about that later bunny," he hushed her while slowly unzipping her skirt.

"Mr.Kang just- uhm," a moan escaped her mouth as his lips made contact with her sensitive skin. She was a mess. Her hair was everywhere and the hickeys that she received from a few hours ago were on display.

She felt good. She loved him. She loved being with him. She loved every moment with him but it was so wrong. Their relationship was so wrong. It had been 3 months. They had been going for 3 months and she still wasn't caught. It was baffling.

Their relationship only began during summer. She had no idea that he would end up being her teacher. They had met at one of the concerts the boys were doing. He had come with his friends and he really didn't want to go but his friends had convinced him too and when he set his eyes on her, he couldn't look away. She was beautiful and he knew he wanted her.

"Do you feel-" his deep voice was interrupted by a loud knocking. Y/n's eyes widen as she jumped off the desk and started to fix herself.

"Who is it?" He called as he too tried to fix himself.

"Mr.Kang? It's Chan. Y/n's brother," a familiar voice replied. He looked over at her small body and saw she had managed to get herself together quite quickly and started to collect her books.

"Come in!"

The door opened and a happy looking Chan walked in. His face was glowing and his hair was covered with a beanie meaning he had just come from the studio.

He quickly said a quick hello before helping Y/n grab her bag. "I hope you guys had a good study session. Thank you so much for watching her Sir," he thanks the older man.

"Oh, you don't need to thank me. She was an Angel and I hope, with all the studying we've done, she'll pass the next quiz," he had a smirk on his face. A smirk Y/n hated. He knew what he was doing.

"Well, I'll make sure to make her study more. Other than that. Have a good weekend," Chan gave him one last smile before waving goodbye and leaving the room with Y/n right behind her.

"Why do you look so red?" Chan asked when they got into the car. He had been watching and analyzing her for the past 5 minutes. "Do you not feel well?" He asked.

"No Channie, it was just really hot in there and I've been studying for hours," she sighed and played with her skirt.

"Oh, makes sense. Do you wanna eat something? We can stop for some hotpot-"

"No actually, I'm really tired Oppa. Maybe later in the evening?"

"Yeah that sounds fine, we can go with the boys," he replied and got his phone out of his pocket to text the family group chat.

They had a family group chat because once when they were traveling for one of their tours, I.N and Han thought it would be a good idea to disappear from the group which led them to missing their flight and Chan was so mad he made sure to make a group chat for whenever they had to split up.

Y/n looked out the window. The past few hours running through her mind. The thoughts making her feel wet under there as she thought about the way Mr.Kang would touch her, make her feel good, make her feel like-

One message:

Come over to mines tomorrow. Sleepover😘

The butterflies in her stomach started to dance once again. Her tummy doing somersaults making her feel all giddy and excited.

"Oppa? Can I go to Franchesca's tomorrow for a sleepover?" She looked over at her brother.

"Again? You've been going over there so much! We barley get time with you," he pouted earning a chuckle from Y/n.

"It's just for one night, I'll be back in the morning and we can hangout. All of us,"

He didn't look convinced but yet again, who was he to say no? This was his little sister. Their only girl in the family.

"Fine but make sure to tell Leeknow. You know how he gets," he shrugged and turned back his phone.

"Okay okay! Thank you, thank you," she giggled and jumped on him while kissing him all over his face.

"Okay okay, enough," he playfully rolled his eyes and raffled her hair.

Her night consisted of watching the boys do practice and have a big fat nap on the couch as they figured out the music part of it all. This was a routine most of the times after school. One of the boys would pick her up and then she would come over to the JYP building and watch the boys practice or record they even made her her own little corner in the 3 racha studio where she could do her homework and decorate it is much as she wanted to.

They really did love their little sister.

"Okay shall we go?" Han asked her since he was the last one closing up the studio. All the other boys were already down stairs waiting for them.

She grabbed her sweater and nodded, "yeah let's go jisung, I'm hungry," she groaned and carried her bag on one shoulder.

He chuckled and locked the doors and quickly made their way downstairs.

When they arrived at the restaurant and started to eat. Chan brought up the sleepover which leeknow was not so happy about.

"I don't, I just don't like them. I don't like their lifestyle and you've been over there too much jagi," he explained as he picked up the chopsticks.

"Please leeknow, she literally comes over all the time,"

"Yeah I know but I don't have a good feeling about this weekend, my older brother instincts are tingling," he looked over at the other boys trying to get some support.

"She'll be gone for one night Hyung, just let her go," Changbin backs her up. He thought about it for a bit before finally agreeing but only on one condition.

"You have to call me when you get there and I have to speak to her parents,"

Busted.

She giggled nervously before nodding, "Ofcourse min, I will. I promise," she played with her ring. A thing she only does when she's nervous and from the corner of Hyunjin's eyes, he noticed instantly and he knew for a fact something fishy was going on.

"So this sleepover...is it just the two of you?" Hyunjin asked while taking a sip from his cocktail.

"Yeah it will be, we're thinking of watching a movie-"

"What movie?" He cut her off quickly. "And what time will you leave tomorrow?"

"Hyung, chill. What's going on?" Han laughed and shoved him a little.

"Nothing...just curious," he shrugged and lifted one eyebrow. The restaurant was a bit empty and the service was good so when the waitress interrupted their conversation by giving them their bill she was so thankful because the conversation was no forgotten about.

"I just know it Changbin, I know she's lying about something," Hyunjin was pacing back and forth in the living room. Half the house was asleep and most of the boys were in their rooms.

Hyunjin and Changbin had decided to stay up and watch a movie. Leaving them alone in the living room.

"Why do you think she would lie about a sleepover Jinnie? I mean surely she wouldn't lie to us about that,"

"But Changbin, you know how suspicious she's been acting. Always over at Franchesca's. Staying for after school activities. Always coming home late. Changbin it's obvious she's doing something behind our backs,"

"Have you talked of Chan about it?" He asked while slowly taking a sip out of his mug.

"No, I just thought about it while we were at dinner. I need solid proof because if I tell Chan, he'll go absolutely crazy,"

"You're right, maybe we can check her phone while she's sleeping or something," Changbin suggested.

"Do you know her password?"

"No but she keeps it in her journal and I know where that is-"

"Her journal! Changbin that's it! We need to read her journal. Maybe she put down what she's doing in there," he whisper-shouted.

"Are you crazy?!" He whispered back, "that's like intruding her privacy Hyunjin! What if we don't find anything at all then it'll be a waste and she'll be mad,"

"I know I'm not wrong Binnie! I can feel it,"

"I hope you're right because if she finds out, we'll be the worst brothers of the century," he sighed and massaged his temples.

"Make sure to call if you need anything, okay?" Leeknow gave her assurance as he kissed her goodbye.

"And don't eat anything your not used too or don't know about!" Chan added and gave her a hug.

"I won't Oppa," she giggled and waved goodbye as she made her way to the car where the driver awaited her.

Once they saw the car drive away everyone disappeared doing their own thing while Hyunjin and Chan where on a mission. A big mission.

They went straight to her room and started looking for a journal.

"This feels so wrong," Changbin said as he opened and closed drawers.

"I know Hyung but we have too," he replied quickly and looked through her closet. It was long until they found out and it actually made Hyunjin laugh at the fact that their little sister sucked when it came to hiding her stuff from them.

"I found it!" He yelped and pulled out the book. It was old and quite beaten up but that didn't matter at all. Hyunjin made sure to remind himself to buy her a new one later.

"Okay! What does it say? What does it say?!" Changbin shrieked excitedly.

They sat on her bed and started to go through the book. Page by page by page. It was hours and hours reading boring things about highschool and boys and drama.

Hyunjin was about to run mad but Changbin was eating all the drama up. He was actually impressed at how interesting their little sisters life was.

"We're never going to find anything!" Hyunjin groaned when he looked at the time.

"I mean we can skip the parts? When did she start acting suspicious?"

"I'll say like 2-3 months ago, I don't know! What do you think?"

"I think it started during summer," Changbin commented.

"Then let's go look from there," Hyunjin started to skip the pages until finally.

September 27th 2023.

“….and we’re going to be making cookies. I just really hope everything goes well and my brothers don’t find out about this. Wish me luck!” Hyunjin slammed the book shut after finishing the last sentence.

He looked up at the boys who were listening to everything. His blood was boiling as he looked over at Changbin who was equally as angry.

They were shocked and traumatized.

What the hell was Y/n thinking?

#skz imagines #skz comfort #skz x reader #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz drabbles #skz stay #stray kids drabbles #stray kids #stray kids x y/n #straykids x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #bangchansgfblog

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daenysx · 1 year ago

Text

i really hope you enjoy reading this! (fluff + smut)

my inbox is always open if you'd like to share your opinions ♡

send me your requests for drabbles

"this feels nice." you whisper.

aemond hums as his long fingers work on your back. you are too tense, stiff as a board. he is glad for the massage oil you bought recently, the sweetened scent of lavender and blueberry fills his senses. he's got you laying on the bed, your face buried on the pillow, your back against his fingers. he made sure your hair was tied back securely, not wanting to get oil on your locks.

he was the one offering a massage, seeing you hunched over kitchen table as you studied for your next lecture. you were holding the back of your neck like it would actually work, you tried to rub the spot between your neck and shoulder. exhaustion covered your lovely face, and he just couldn't let you keep going like this.

it took you a while to leave the table, insisting you still have work to finish. he promised to wake you up early, before your classes. you couldn't resist him when he's being so sweet with you, you let him take your shirt and bra off. you placed yourself on bed, wearing your panties only, and let him do anything he wants.

the thing is, you are in love with aemond targaryen's fingers. they are longer than yours, working wonders on your achy muscles. they are hard when they need to be, soft when you need them to be. aemond uses his thumbs to rub your sore muscles harder, presses them on the spots you need the most. the oil eases his movements on your back, he focuses on your shoulders and your neck. every move he makes feels planned and confident, he knows your body too well, and still you can't help but being surprised at it.

"mhm- there, right there, baby." you say, breathless. "feels so good."

he keeps rubbing the spots you make noises at. "does it hurt when i press here?"

"just a little, but it's good when you-" you can't finish your sentence because the pressure he applies on your shoulder blades is just perfect. "oh!"

he chuckles. "i can't believe you didn't ask me to do this before, you were just trying to keep going all tense, hmm?"

you almost whimper. "no, just- your arms will ache later, i didn't want-" the words die when he kisses the back of your neck.

"it'll take more than a massage to get my arms hurt, sweetheart." he brushes one more kiss.

he keeps rubbing, same spots over and over. all you can do is making little noises at him, just closing your eyes and laying there. you can't see his face but you are absolutely sure that he smiles everytime you whisper his name.

his hands move all the way down on your back, finding your waist and pressing your sides. you lift your hips against him at the sudden pressure, not expecting him to do that. aemond rubs the skin of your waist and moves his hands lower.

"can i take this off?" his fingers fiddle with the waistband of your panties.

you turn your head to look at him, you smile as you point his sweatpants with your eyes. "sure, as long as you take that off, too."

he smirks as he takes the black cloth off himself. you don't change your position on the bed, lying facedown. you can see him taking his hardness in his hand, the remnants of scented massage oil helps him rub his cock up and down easily. he moves on his knees, takes off your panties and angles your hips the way he knows you'd like.

"do you want me to-"

"i only want you to lay there, stay relaxed. i'm just gonna make you feel better, my girl needs a good night sleep before her busy day, right?" he holds your hips firmly. "just tell me if you need anything."

you nod, your eyes wide open with the sudden sensation you feel at your entrance. his fingers rub your clit with ease, they open you up, and spread your wetness all over your cunt. you whisper his name, a little warning for him to do something.

he never rejects you, how can he? the tip of his cock finds your entrance, the wetness pulls him inside you, all he has to do is angling himself, and push a little. he knows the angle is perfect for you, but still he needs to give you time to adjust. he is the one in control now, and he has to make sure he's being good for both of you.

he pushes himself a little more. your breathing is heavy with want and desire, your nipples rub on the sheets and you move on bed to give yourself some relief. the movement makes aemond say your name with a shaky voice, you press your hips against him once more. he holds you with firmer hands, pinning you on bed.

the noises you make are muffled by the soft pillow but he can hear all of them clearly. what you want, what you need is very clear to him, he just knows. his fingers are skilled enough to rub your clit even when he's behind you, busy with the movements of his cock. he hates neglecting your clit because rubbing it always makes you wet when he's inside. you make a louder noise this time and he decides it's his favorite thing to hear.

"are you okay, sweetling? is this too much?" he asks.

you shake your head with a rushed movement. "i'm okay, promise." you tilt your neck to the side and he instantly feels you need something more.

"can i go faster?" he asks.

"yes- and, just a little lower." you say. he angles his hips lower and hits your g-spot, you get tighter around him. he hits the same spot over and over, the pleasure makes his head spinning. his head goes back, his eye closes with the feeling. "perfect, so perfect." he whispers. he mumbles unconciously, you can't hear him. his breathing's uneven as he chases his peak.

"close- aemond, i'm-"

he leans into your body, kisses the back of your neck. "let go, whenever you want." he whispers to your ear.

you curve your waist, your hips against his cock. he keeps moving, holding you in your place until you squeeze him so good. the world becomes blurry in his eyes as your wetness coats everywhere. you keep moaning, it's all incoherent but so beautiful. you are spent around him, laying under his body, and feeling his weight on top of you.

he moves once and twice more after you finished, he doesn't pull himself back. the orgasm feels too intense, he isn't even sure he can lift his body from yours. he comes and comes, everything feels overwhelming in a perfect way, the mixed smell of sex and lavender with the essence of blueberry.

the room is filled with breathing sounds. he lifts his hips and his softened cock presses your backside. he stays on top of you, a warm human blanket. he fixes your hair, leans closer to your head to give you kisses. you look at him with hazy eyes, a slow teardrop falls on the pillow. you smile at his last kiss, post-orgasm bliss is spread all over your body.

he forces himself to lay on his back, pulls you on his chest. your arm stays on his body, fingers tickling the fine skin of his stomach. his hand wanders on your bare back, you put your leg on his thigh. the physical contact between you never ends, you are glad it doesn't.

"we should get cleaned up, pretty girl." aemond says, his voice comes out tired.

you hum quietly, the sticky sweetness between your thighs and the absorbed massage oil feel lovely. "can we stay like this? just this once. we can have shower in the morning."

"you'll feel uncomfortable."

"no, i won't. please, baby, stay here."

he kisses your hair, pulls the covers on your bodies with a shaky hand. he holds you close on his chest, muscles melted, breathings matched. "do you feel better?" he whispers.

"yes. thank you, it was perfect."

his lips curve upwards. "the massage or the sex?"

you bury your face to his neck. "both."

"shy girl." he cups your cheek. "i love you."

you're not shy this time. "i love you, too."

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #modern!aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond one eye

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thinkingaboutbetterdays · 6 months ago

Text

the four-year ruse. ( malcolm wilkerson x reader )

gif belongs to me

You knew that you should actually be studying instead of pretending to be studying in his room. For over two weeks, Malcolm kept up the pretence that you needed the door closed to focus on homework, but he knew Lois would catch on soon - she always did.

He just wished it wasn't today.

When the door opened, Malcolm's instinct was to put as much distance between you both as possible, but quickly realized it was a poor choice and tried to shield you as he moved away. You clutched the sheet tightly, closing your eyes, internally scolding yourself for getting carried away. With Reese gone, Malcolm and Dewey no longer shared a bed, and when you were alone, it was difficult not to take advantage of the situation.

"Mom! What are you doing?"

"Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen." She was eerily calm as she tossed clothes that were on the floor, at you both.

She walked out, closing the door and you covered your eyes with your hand, head hitting the pillow in disbelief and fear. Lots of fear.

"Oh, god, we are dead." You looked at Malcolm when he didn't respond and sat up, narrowing your eyes when you saw him sitting smiling, holding your bra.

You shook your head when he directed his smile at you. "We're already dead. At this point my parents can expect my remains to be scattered with a woodchipper."

"She won't come back in." He sounded so certain as he leaned in to kiss you.

"Malcolm! Don't make me come back in there!" Lois yelled.

You couldn't help but giggle when he groaned, dropping his head on your lap. "You know she will actually do it."

So you both quickly got dressed and with great reluctance, walked to the kitchen, joining Lois at the dining table. You listened as she explained that your mother had told her about your grades slipping, and she had heard from Malcolm's teachers that his grades were drastically falling.

"From now on, there are going to be some changes around here."

You reached for his hand beneath the table and felt him squeeze your hand for comfort as Lois scolded you both for breaking the trust of both parents and that from this moment on, you were sitting in the kitchen or in the living room, until you got a hold of your teenage hormones.

You shared a glance with Malcolm when she went to pick up a large card with assigned dates you could spend together, quickly noticing that every time you were in each other's presence you were to study.

"Don't you think it's a little overkill?" Lois narrowed her eyes at him and Malcolm quickly added, "'Cause I don't."

A month passed, and the ban on you spending time with Malcolm outside of school was lifted. When you arrived at his house together, you took a seat at the kitchen table under the watchful eye of Lois. Within a week, a schedule had been formed, and you and Malcolm set specific study goals to ensure you stayed on track in time for the exams. Lois was pleased to see him taking his studies seriously and allowed him to continue seeing you.

As you spent more time together working on homework, you and Malcolm discovered that you make a great team. He helped you understand difficult concepts, and you both shared study resources and motivated each other to stay focused. Your relationship grew stronger as you supported each other academically.

Not only do you both excel in your studies, but you also find joy in learning together. Instead of a punishment, you turn the study sessions into opportunities for intellectual discussions and exploration. Malcolm loved challenging perspectives and vice versa, sparking curiosity and deepening your understanding of various subjects.

Your dedication to your studies paid off, and you both started to see improvements in your grades. You feel a sense of accomplishment and pride in your hard work. Lois noticed the positive change and acknowledged your efforts, but also denied Malcolm's request for a break - wanting to spend time with you without textbooks.

Your relationship with Malcolm became even more meaningful as you realize that you not only share a deep emotional connection but also a strong intellectual bond. You appreciate each other's intelligence and the way you challenge and inspire one another.

As you continue to prioritize your studies, you and Malcolm find a healthy balance between your academic responsibilities and your relationship. You understand the importance of maintaining individual growth while also nurturing your connection. This is why when your parents no longer watched you study, as Lois did, you stole kisses and more at your house, using his house as a chance to keep on top of your grades.

When Lois mentioned the dip in your grades would mean that you would have to break up, Malcolm knew that as long as you set time for studying and boosting your grades, she wouldn't know that when you were alone at your house studying was the last thing on your minds. As long as you both kept your grades up, she would never know that he was still leaving hickeys on your skin, just hidden more carefully.

However, there is no denying that the commitment to your studies not only benefits both of your academic success but also strengthens your relationship. You learn to rely on each other for support, encouragement, and guidance. You become his biggest cheerleader, and he is yours, celebrating each milestone and accomplishment together.

In the end, you and Malcolm's decision to make more time for your studies not only helped you excel academically but also deepened your bond. You both realize that your relationship is not just built on love, affection, and teenage hormones but also on shared goals, aspirations, and intellectual growth with a future that always seemed to co-align. However, Malcolm always said that your greatest achievement together was maintaining the pretense that you were studying at your house to Lois, who found out during your second year at university, a ruse that lasted four years.

#malcolm wilkerson #malcolm wilkerson x reader #malcolm wilkerson imagine #malcolm in the middle

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melonchews · 2 months ago

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you’re art is so fantastic do you have any tutorials that really helped you improve :3??

Oh my gosh thank you so much!!

Here are some resources/tutorials that helped me over the years.

Patreon :

Loish has a patreon that’s full of amazing tutorials and tips that expand past even art, such as workflow and scheduling. Three of the biggest takeaways that helped with me so far:

• focus studies (choosing a specific area to focus on when doing warm ups)

• exaggeration + creativity when doing studies (so eliminating the pressure of accuracy and focusing on observation + feeling).

• workflow (the ways in which we complete illustrations and work it into our schedule. In due time I will implement this better lol).

——————

YouTube:

Ahmed aldoori :

• 100 heads

• drawing practice from reference

• photo study painting tutorial

Proko :

• draw the head from any angle

• getting better faster - painting with 80/20 rule

Marco bucci :

• 10 mins to better painting (playlist)

Ethan Becker :

• draw gesture with one shape (honestly a lot of his tutorials/tips are great! I think I learned a lot of various things that are scattered thought out his videos).

—————

Books: not tutorials, but good resources that helped.

• How to draw by Scott Robertson

• Figure drawing: design and study by Michael hampton

• a ton of “art of” books, study your favorites!

—————

My own tips/things I think about when I draw that have helped a lot:

Image 1) tracing over figures then drawing the contour or using that traced contour to check my work.

I also block in the shapes of the body and redraw that (sometimes treating it as its own character. I’ll play around with those proportions or stylize them, etc).

Image 2) negative space and envelope: Creating a shape around the figure and creating shapes in the negative space helped me a lot with mapping out poses. I eventually started using it as a short cut for my own work once I memorized common shape placements.

Image 3) finding the rhythms of a figure through connections and implied lines. For example, the curve of her hip flowed into the inside of her bra cup, or the inner leg flowed into her panty line. Etc. this really helped me simplify figures and draw in a way that was enjoyable.

Image 4) is an extension of 3, sometimes it helps to see the connection of the arms + shoulders or legs + hips. As well as opposing line curves (the red).

I hope that makes sense 😭 if not I can explain it better/more thoroughly if needed.

#asks #ask #tips #tutorials #resources #melonchews #meyamor #art tips #art tutorials #anon #anonymous

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little-diable · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober Day 31 – Dean Winchester

And now Kinktober is over once again, it passed by way too quickly! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

🩶 Day 31 🩶 knife

Warnings: 18+, piv, shower, blood, use of a knife (duh)

Dean Winchester x fem!reader (1.2k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

My Kinktober Masterlist

She was heavily panting, eyes focused on Dean’s bloody features. He was breathing just as heavily as she was, still shaken up by their somewhat successful hunt. While Sammy had stayed behind, (y/n) and Dean had decided to hunt a vampire down, preparing to fight against a nest of creatures both detested. And even though both had made it out alive, neither of them felt like they’d succeeded, unable to put their thoughts into words.

The lamp of the motel bathroom alighted both their features, giving one another the chance to study their partner, trying to find wounds they’d need to take care of before sleeping this very night away. Dean took a step closer, hand still wrapped around his knife. She didn’t dare move, teeth running along her lower lip, trying to stay quiet as Dean pressed his front against hers.

With his cold hand finding her chin, he forced (y/n) to look at him, pressing his lips against hers. A moan rumbled through the both of them, searching one another’s closeness, desperate for this kind of distraction. Dean pushed her against the sink, lips kissing their way down her neck as her fingers got to work, unbuttoning his bloody flannel, exposing his toned arms, a sight that would always leave her trembling for more.

“I hate seeing you getting hurt, fuck, I wanted to kill them all, make them pay for touching you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, forest green eyes turning a shade darker. (Y/n) could only hum, watching his hand move closer with the knife pushed against the neckline of her shirt. Dean didn’t speak another warning before he cut the fabric in half, making her breath hitch in her chest. No further word left her, feeling the tip of the blade pressing into her skin, tracing its way down the valley between her breasts. “Take off your bra, baby, let me look at you.”

Trembling hands undid her bra, groaning as the cold knife was pressed against her hardening nipples, while his eyes kept searching hers, watching every reaction that tugged on her features. She was putty in his hands, would do whatever Dean asked of her, one with the man who owned her heart, one with the man she’d live through hundreds of lifetimes if she only could.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips while his eyes flickered down to his knife, cupping her left breast with his free hand. Her moans guided him on, tracing the path down to her belly, slightly digging the knife into her skin without drawing any blood. Dean couldn’t help but feel powerful, guided on by the feeling of owning (y/n), knowing that he could do as he pleases, she’d allow it all.

“Dean,” his name rolled off her tongue like a prayer, hoping that the Lord above would pick up on her begging. “I need you, please let me feel you.”

Another fast kiss was pressed against her lips, a kiss that distracted her from the feeling of the knife being moved up her body, finding its way to her neck. Her blood was rushing, senses heightened, very well knowing that even though this was nothing but a game, Dean could easily end their time together right there and then. He parted from her with a grin, hand finding her waist to turn her towards the sink, eyes finding hers in the mirror.

“I would burn earth to the ground for you, sweetheart.” His murmured words left her whimpering, watching Dean trace her skin with the knife, finding joy in the goosebumps littering her body. Their hearts roared in sync, begging one another to find solace in their company, to find their way together in the most intimate way imaginable. Without another warning Dean parted from her, with the knife finding its way to the sink and his hands pulling his shirt over his head.

No words were spoken as he turned on the shower, watching her undress with trembling movements, stepping into the shower with Dean following moments later. Their lips found back together like magnets searching opposite poles, pushing her against the shower tiles before his fingers found her pulsing clit.

“Don’t tease, Dean, fuck me.” Her whispers were swallowed by the hot water cascading down his back, washing away the reminders of their hunt, allowing them to forget about what had happened these past hours. The way he looked down on her made her wonder if anybody else had ever been fortunate enough to experience this kind of love, a love so sincere, so honest it left (y/n) breathless. She wrapped her arms around his neck as Dean lifted one of her legs up to his waist, allowing him to align his cock with her entrance.

“I love you,” he spoke the loving three words, cock slowly pushed into her tightness, groaning at the feeling of her walls clenching around him. He fucked her slow, gave her enough time to adjust to the calm rhythm, to the feeling of Dean pulling out of her only to push in deeper.

The moans leaving them echoed through the small bathroom, somewhat swallowed by the shower and yet they were loud enough to communicate with one another. The second their eyes met, Dean added more force to his thrusts, tightening his hold on her leg as his other palm was pressed against the tiles.

Dean’s thrusts turned into something rather brutal, urged on by (y/n)’s pants, by the feeling of her walls fluttering around his aching cock, by the feeling of her nails scratching at his shoulders. A moment so raw, so perfect, Dean couldn’t help but thank his lucky stars for pushing them together all these years ago. He perfectly managed to hit her sweet spot, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, riled up by all his teasing.

“Fuck, Dean, don’t you dare stop.” She could only hope that he wouldn’t tease her again, that he would push her over the edge within the next moments. One of her hands found her clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle with quick circles, set on matching his ferocious thrusts. Dean’s groans buzzed through her body, making her moan in sync as she felt the knot growing tighter, set on letting go.

With a string of curses leaving both, they came in unison, making her feel his cum painting her walls white, leaving his stain on her.

“You okay, baby?” (Y/n) could only nod, pulling Dean in for another kiss before she allowed him to pull away, finally getting to washing her, taking care of the woman he’d eventually marry, set on loving her till the end of their time together.

#Dean Winchester smut #little-diable kinktober23 #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural smut

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gazsluckyhat · 3 months ago

Text

Sarah's House

Eleven - Sports Bra

Masterlist

The fact I thought I could get on a writing schedule is a joke. My brain is mush honestly. Short chapter to fill in. Every chapter can't be a essay.

Price knew he shouldn't take the mission. The outcome seemed obvious, or so he thought. Until he wasn't anymore.

Like calls to like. Or something of the sort.

In the weeks that followed everyone seemed to open up a little bit more. Price often sat with Soap and Sarah while he did paperwork and would listen to the Scotsman's tales and teasing's. Sarah's voice chiming in every so often, easing any existing discomfort from that day. Gaz found Simon on days his brain was just a little too much for him, the quiet and reassuring's he'd speak to him better than any therapy he'd had. And Sarah? She was never alone. Not because she couldn't be alone but because there was no reason for her to be. Each night unspoken choices were chosen and no one ended up sleeping alone. Even if it was Simon squeezing into a queen matress with Soap's starfish ass. No one was alone.

"I have some news." File in hand, Gaz slipped into the breakfast table beside Sarah and Soap. He put the file in the middle towards Sarah. The name across it was familiar. KND. It was home. A joke that had stuck.

"Kate contacted some old friends and we were able to track down everyone who was on your team. Where've they gone and so forth. You don't have to open it now. But it's here if you want it." She looked around at the boys sitting there. Each giving her their own version of a uplifting smile. Nerves licked her senses as she used the tips of her fingers to drag the folder to her.

"Are they all okay?" Gaz nodded. His hand taking hers.

"Several are now partners with several wounded and missing warrior projects in your name." Her heart clinched. She shook her head.

"Not right now." And that was that. The boys didn't prod her and the day continued like normal.

"You're making amazing progress Sarah." Gerard smiled at her. Sweat sat on her hairline and slid down the back of her shirt. Peaking a look at Soap she noticed that he too seemed to be out of breath, maybe even a tad more than her. She smiled at that. The tops of her thighs burned from the stretching and her shoulders ached for a nice rub. But more so she ached for Soap. He looked extra devilish in a grey t-shirt that was stuck to him with sweat and a pair shorts that clung to his hips. Gerard had been true to his word and not once touched her. Instructed each of the boys on how to hold her and stretch her muscles out. He also never questioned the rotation of the boys. And as much as she enjoyed the doctor she would much rather the boys stretch her in other ways.

"Ay, leaps and bounds." Soap smiled proudly at her and it only increased the blood flow to her pussy. She wanted nothing more than to have him squeezing her throat and growling in her ear.

"Next week, can we- can we try you and I?" Her cheeks flamed and she saw the question in Soap's eyes. Gerard nodded.

"As long as you're comfortable. I'd like one of the boys to be present just in case you need to tap out, okay? Just for your safety." Sarah nodded. She then said her goodbyes and yanked Soap through the building. At the car she let him go and climbed into the car.

"Are you a'right?" He turned her face so she was holding eye contact with him.

"Of course. Why?" He looked at her, studied the look in her eyes.

"Did I do somethin in there?" She shook her head. "You don't want us thouchin' you here?" Her cheeks flamed again.

"No no no, It's the opposite of that!" He leaned back in the seat. "Having all of you there and being the ones touching me and guiding me turns it into more than therapy." A sly grin took over his lips.

"Is that so lassie? Got your knickers in a twist, have we?" Heat roared down her spine.

"Mmm, Soap. You don't understand how bad I just wanted you to fuck me." He was pulling out of the parking lot instantly, didn't even wait until she was buckled up.

Ten minuets later they pulled into the parking deck of a nondescript building and into the darkest corner he could find. Out of all the boys Soap was the one that surprised her the most when it came to sex. Of course he was constantly in the mood but he wasn't the one always wanting a quickie. No, that was Price. Soap took his time. Teased her and made her beg before fucking her into tomorrow. So when he started yanking her into the back seat she was shocked.

"What are you doing?" She squeaked when he tugged her shirt up. His eyes dark with hunger. His fingers made quick work of her sports bra and the leggings she'd picked.

"I want you. Right here and right now." And so he had her. Pushing her back onto the bench seat and tugging her legs over his shoulders. As much as he wanted to lick and taste her he needed to have her wrapped around him. "So fuckin' warm."

"Mmm. Soap." He yanked her head back by her hair, forcing her to look at him.

"Name's Johnny, lassie. Better remember it. It's all you're gonna be saying." Sarah moaned loudly. She knew it was nicknames but to hear his name while he runied her was other worldly. His teeth nipped at her neck and shoulder as she sobbed his name. Hands threaded into his mohawk. Johnny had the tendency to overstimulate her for fun. Loved to watch her squirm and writhe under him. He pulled several orgasms' out of her before he even let himself feel it. But right now, right now he was hanging on by a thread. The air in the car was stuffy and hot as both their bodies became slick with sweat. Her chest pressed right agaisnt his. His fingers leaving imprints in her thighs as he bullied his way into her. Sarah could feel that pull in her belly. That familiar heat that creeped it's way up her spine.

"Mmm. John-johnny. Gonna-nna cum." Her nails pinched his skin as she began to tighten around him. Her pussy milking him.

"Fuck!" He wasn't gonna last. Not with her whimpering in his ear and how tight she was around him. He could feel her tipping over the edge. Couldn't hold on himself.

"Fuckkk!" She was shaking, her body convulsing under him. Johnny didn't even have time to pull out. His body spilling into hers before he collapsed on top of her. Sarah felt it then. This encompassing feeling of warmth. Safety. Home. Something she'd began to feel when she was with the boys. She felt it with Gaz when he'd make breakfast with her in the morning. Price when he'd let her sit in his lap and tell her about his paperwork or past missions. And with Simon it was whenever they'd watch the telly. His body relaxed and pliant. He'd run his hand through her hair. They were her safe space.

"'m not squishing ya' am i?" His voice was muffled agaisnt her skin. She couldn't help but chuckle. Johnny and Gaz were the two she found herself joking with the most. Always had something funny to say and had to be touching he at all times. She chocked it up to Price and Simon's past. Simon had told her a bit of his but she refused to pry. They'd not once forced her to open up.

"No." And they laid there. Hearts beating in sync. "I think I'm falling in love." Johnny stilled. Fear in his mouth.

"Bonnie.."

"All of you. I'm in love with all of you." Pride replaced the fear.

#call of duty #john price #call of duty smut #johnny mactavish #kyle garrick #call of duty imagine #soap #gaz #ghost #price #gazsluckyhat

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afreakingdork · 2 months ago

Text

Attempted Execute of Non-Executable Memory - Chapter 6

RotTMNT Michelangelo x Kendra

I never had @classy-thief do two chapter arts for SunshineMoonshine and so I wanted to make good and get them back for this stunning piece!

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings/Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Revenge, Falling In Love, Love, Romance, Dating, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Love Confessions, Human/Turtle Relationships (TMNT), Step-Parents, Neglect, First Kiss, First Generation Immigrant Kids, Acculturation, Loss/Removal of Cultural Identity, Incarceration, Prison Time, I flesh Out Kendra’s Character, Character Exploration, Character Study, I Give Kendra a Backstory

Synopsis: After hitting the lowest of lows, Kendra has carved out a simple life for herself. She’s content enough to live this way until opportunity walks through her place of employment in the form of an orange turtle mutant. She just needs to get close enough to him to plant a virus in his infuriating brother’s servers, but will she be infected long the way?

Also available on Ao3

First 🧡 Previous

Today was a day of dirty work.

That was all Kendra thought as she threw on something raggedy. There were her pants, given to her after an unfortunate splitting incident that was not to be thought about. They were far too large and needed to be severely belted and rolled. She did the latter of which with a kick of her garish rubber boots. She couldn’t remember which distant relative had forced them upon her, but they fit and tucked easily under the baggy pant legs.

Her top was similarly studious. A sports bra made sense and she threw a ratty version of a college sweatshirt on top of it. It was one of Jase’s that she had stolen and stained beyond comprehension. She wouldn’t necessarily deny she’d done that on purpose, but the logo was hardly legible now. It would act as her guard against bugs and dirt, which was about as much as her half-brother was worth.

She shoved the sleeves up out of her way for the time being and looked at the abysmal state of her hair. Those damn streaks were taking over her head, but she hardly had time to do more than her weekly hair mask. She would need to make time regardless as the purple would eventually be gone and she marinated the when as she pinned the mop up in a messy bun. For the sake of the day, she put it directly on the top of her head. It gave her the comical appearance of a child, but it was a tired appearance she cared little about. She rolled her eyes away from a cloudy mirror and stormed out of her apartment.

No makeup.

Just sunscreen.

Who was she trying to impress?

No one.

The sun was already hot overhead and she glowered at it.

It forced her to wince and she hated it all the more.

She only had to round through a few connected back alleys to get where she was going and her boots squeaked the whole way. She pounded the pavement harder for the sake of it and saw a cockroach to crush. It was a single hop for a satisfying squish and she walked off the guts as she continued on. A fence soon shot up in her way and she ducked through an obvious cut between chain links. From there, there was a set of loose boards to move before she was surrounded by greenery.

She hated it.

She hated the bugs.

She hated the smell of shit.

She hated that she was somehow honor-bound to help.

The entire community had guilted her into sacrificing at least one day a month to this garbage.

To twelve agonizing hours of weeding.

To mixing dirt and manure.

To picking and rinsing things.

For what?

A meal at the end of it.

A hard day’s work that supposedly paid for itself.

It was an enormous load.

She was taken advantage of.

She had ignored them for months before they got her on a technicality.

Guilt was easy to ignore.

Passive aggressive nonsense.

Aggressive aggressive made sense.

She could openly reject that sort of request.

She basically had until she had gone by an auntie’s place to trade some empty Tupperware for a full set. She had been scraping by at the time and accepted the handouts of her supposed community. It was hard to digest the hypocrisy since the lot of them had done nothing for her in any of the years prior. That should have been enough of a payment, but she still swallowed her bile and her pride. Each exchange event was to get through banter. She needed to select the right dialog or lack thereof to get in and out as fast as possible.

Except, this time she was asked about the garden.

Why hadn’t she been seen there?

Why hadn’t she helped?

And she had mistakenly responded, why would she?

In a momentary lapse, she forgot that the judgment of her company was the reason she was being fed. She’d earned a swift tap from a wooden spoon and a lecture about where the food she was always given came from. It wasn’t just through one person’s hands, but the lot of them; many of the vegetables came from the garden.

That wasn’t what she was told.

She had to listen to more.

The uncle who had the well paying job.

The auntie with the seeds.

The Nenek who made the rice.

The Bang who dropped off the meat.

She had to show up to the garden the next day and do her toil or she wasn’t going to get another handout. She’d been stuck wasting time here ever since. At least she got by on the bare minimum. Once a month and she was off the hook. She used to work more, but now it was one day.

One whole day.

Getting up early.

Out all day.

In the dirt.

She wasn’t made for this.

She was made to be in a room of whirling fans and coolant.

She halted her thoughts, but not her body.

Those days were long gone.

She was now made for her crappy apartment or shoving bean juice past white collars.

If this were any other hot day off then she could melt in her shitty mattress and scroll endlessly.

No, she was here.

She would do this and be done with it until the next time.

An inoculation.

It was a quick jab to the bicep for temporary resistance.

She was building up a tolerance to something, she thought, as she checked in with a head kakek. The lore of the space said this man had apparently planned the garden after getting tired of his wife lamenting groceries. The prices of what she could get were too high and the specificity of what she needed wasn’t good enough. He was yet another victim of those passive aggressive complaints, but he was painted as a hero.

That was after half a year of him being treated like an idiot.

Kendra was given a pair of gloves and sent out.

The kangkung was ready to harvest again.

She picked up a pair of clippers from a small table and headed toward that bed.

She wasn’t the same as that old fool.

She couldn’t be.

His importance only manifested once the garden produced crops. She, alternatively, would never churn out a useful product for these people. She would never allow them back in after what they had done. They could support her for a lifetime, and she knew for sure they wouldn’t, and it would not be enough. They were yet another sect feeding off the oxymoron of the world. They were a support group that only served the useful and pliant. If you didn’t fit into their automatically generated box, then you were ousted.

The only benefit among her community was that they told you to your face.

Words could be ignored.

They could be blocked.

You could take them and shove them back down someone’s throat when you beat their asinine complaints into submission to prove them otherwise.

As far as she knew, Kakek Elang had never done that.

She knelt before a sea of stalks.

Why?

Did he think the garden spoke for him?

Was his wife that appreciative?

Had she begun to cook in silence?

Was he eating so well that he was sated on that alone?

That had been his goal, she supposed.

He, unlike her, couldn’t stand the jabbering.

He had also had to endure more of it.

He was arguably still flush with it since no one would shut up about the community garden.

All it did.

All it brought together.

All its glory.

Kendra snipped down a line with precision.

She pruned the plants for their worth and revealed the little weeds trying to hide amongst the hallowed ground.

They would be razed next.

Once the soil was clear, they would get another harvest from this fast-growing plant.

None of that mattered.

She was going too fast.

She was just another body.

She was damned either way.

She could mechanize the entire garden if they let her. None of them would ever have to raise a finger again. Everything would be done instantly from weeding to the soil pH levels, but they’d find a way to complain. It would probably be about the taste. The plants would be healthier than ever and far more lush, but they’d make up crap about how the lack of love made them tasteless.

She could work hard. Her body was strong enough that she could do the necessary labor. A quick calculation and she would know exactly how to divvy up a day’s work. She’d harvest methodically, till soil in-between, refreshing seedlings, weed, and water in the most efficient way possible. She would finish what would take the elderly days to complete in a single one, but the voices would inevitably come. She would have done it too precisely, she must have been trying to prove something, or she wanted to get away that bad.

She could completely give up. Bang Herman was a loaf whenever he was here and no one said a word. It always scorched her skin that the men got off easier than her. They could do half the work and be lauded just because they moved 25 lb bags of manure. They were no better than the shit they toted and she could carry them just as well. Only, they never let her. They ripped it from her hands before she even tried. They wondered what they would do if she got hurt while the other Bang they had to do it wore a back brace. It was all a poor exercise because she already knew what would happen if she stopped. That was why she had been forced to work the garden in the first place.

No matter what she did, it didn’t matter.

So she aimed for the most mediocre performance possible.

She didn’t overachieve and outshine.

She did just enough that no one could criticize.

It worked.

It had worked for months.

At some point she had finished cutting the kangkong and stared at the piles. With a dust to the dirt already muddying her jeans, she got up to get the rinsing baskets. The plants would be passed out of her hands and she loaded them up for that exact purpose. Ibus came out of their kitchens to take them and Kendra scarcely nodded at their thanks before returning to the toil.

She moved to pick all the tiny weeds and cleaned up the beds for their next crop.

She was methodical in doing so. It had taken her awhile to get the pressure to pinch right while wearing bulky gloves. Her hands were meant for the finer work of soldering processors. Now they were used for something patently beneath her. Now she wallowed down in the mud where the cool dirt barely offset the blazing sun. She wiped her brow with the back of her glove and felt a smear across her forehead.

There was something cosmic about it and she couldn’t bring herself to be mad.

Instead she kept working on the planter bed.

Mud was nature’s first sunscreen, she guessed. It was its own form of antiquity that had lost its finer properties. Especially in New York City where it was basically scarce to come by, it felt like a commodity. The parks weren’t oases. They were placating centers of an industrial complex. They gave the illusion of the outdoors so people wouldn’t be driven mad by endless greys of concrete.

They weren’t like the garden which was maximized for utility.

They were decorative.

A waste in that sense, Kendra thought as she wrangled a hose.

She could only use so much water so as not to waste.

Yet again, it was all about balancing actions.

The tight wire never stopped.

It was exhausting.

As intensive as the way the dry soil sucked up moisture.

It was soon saturated and she didn’t allow herself to get swept away.

There was more to do.

She shut the hose off and went to get her next assignment. It was a stepwise process after that. She visited Kakek Elang like he was a save point when in reality he was more like a job board. As if she would never be ready for the larger world, she was stuck doing basic level fetch quests. She supposed she was racking up experience points, but those always seemed to reset. If she had been better about tuning into the griping then she might know why. As it was now, the once-a-month deadline was actually a tedious date and more often decided by when an auntie thought it was about time she stopped by.

It would be simpler if they just stuck her on a damn work schedule like the tawdry slip of paper that was taped to a wall at work.

Even that was often done last minute and she pondered its existence.

For every nuisance there was equal and opposite pandering.

No one did their job.

No one did it well.

They couldn’t all be striving for mediocrity.

If only she could game this system.

Find a backdoor and rewrite its structure.

If it were a simple MMO, she absolutely could. She dazed off in writing the code amongst tending to a bucket of melinjo and forced herself back into her own body. Those weren’t thoughts she was supposed to entertain. Bitching was a fine use of her inner monologue because it was cathartic.

She wasn’t allowed to think of fixes. Even just wondering about the whys was dangerous enough. It led to exactly this territory. With a curling pinch, she picked off the fruit-like buds and dropped them into the bucket that was not so proverbial. It was adding up and she would need to temporarily veer off to dump its contents. It would soon be too full to carry even if the sides of the plastic were nowhere near reached. A failing of cheap containers, Kendra decided, as she readied herself to sit up.

An Ibu tittered happily from somewhere and there was a loud gushing.

Without rolling her eyes, Kendra looked up from the top half of her vision.

A male voice followed which meant someone’s son was probably home for a visit. He would be freeloading no doubt, but that was none of Kendra’s business. She wasn’t particularly interested in meeting anyone’s supposedly ‘nice boy’ and instead hunkered down. This would be one of those afforded moments of banality. She was purposefully hindering her own production for the sake of simplifying interactions.

She wished she had her phone.

She pulled one glove off and thumbed the dried dirt on her forehead.

It came off in little flecks that fell into the bucket and she scowled.

Someone might notice and give her a backhanded comment.

Kendra didn’t care about those, but it threatened her flying under the radar. She plucked up what was actually a spore and turned it over in her hand as if inspecting it. With these ready, there’d probably be a bowl of sayur asem served tonight. She hoped the Nenek making it didn’t use as much tamarind as last time. The sour had been taken to all new levels that only some toothless grandpa had thought was palatable.

“Here! Here! Here he is!”

Kendra looked up for the second time.

They had gotten closer.

They were close enough to Kendra’s personal bubble that she chanced turning her head to look out.

There was chatter back and forth about the visitor.

It wasn’t a son, Kendra gathered.

He was someone noteworthy though, based on the reaction.

There was bubbling laughter.

“Here! This is my sister.”

“Nice to meet you.” A male voice responded.

One that Kendra knew a little too well.

One that had Kendra calculatedly falling over.

One where she headed in the direction of the voices.

One she couldn’t quite see the owner of because corn stalks were in the way.

“He is Mikey-angel! Say hello!”

“That’s not quite…” Mikey laughed awkwardly.

“Mikey-angel!” There were loud kissing sounds. “You help so much! Thank you!”

“I didn’t really…” Mikey continued on.

Kendra reached the corn.

She parted huge leaves because her ears must have deceived her.

“Angel is modest!” An auntie tittered.

Though he was mostly obscured, the outline that was unmistakable Michelangelo was standing there.

He looked especially awkward as he tried to explain something to the gaggle of women who were quickly flanking him.

He would be eaten alive.

He had no idea what he was doing.

What he was walking into.

Unless he did.

The thought shot through her like a cold douse from the hose.

This was her block.

These were her family’s friends.

Her apartment was just around the corner.

Mikey was here.

He had never asked before.

He had pretended to be respectful.

He knew where she lived.

She took two crawling steps before she burst from the corn. The plants clawed at her insubordination and she felt the tough stalks catch her bun. Her hair was pulled free from its confines and tossed wildly in the momentum. She was covered in fallen corn silk and surely looked like something out of a horror film when she exploded out onto the walkway flanking the garden. “You!!!”

One of the Ibus screamed.

Another lurched forward and Kendra was struck right over the head.

“Ken-!?” Was all Mikey managed.

“Kendat!!!” The last auntie hissed before devolving into a series of curses.

The others chorused and, while she was nursing an obvious lump, Kendra refused to stop glaring at Mikey.

Mikey watched on with growing distress.

Kendra was soon grabbed and rocked, but she refused to break her gaze.

Mikey was seemingly immune as his hands reached out feebly. “Um, ladies… please…!”

“Ibu!” One of the aunties smacked his hand. “Use honorifics!”

“Ibus…?” Mikey tested the plural he wasn’t sure of.

“With names!” Another shouted before pointing between them. “Ibu Dewi. Ibu Eka and…” She pointed at herself. “Ibu Ade.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend…” Mikey looked between them. “Ibu Ade…”

She nodded appropriately. “Eh! Kendat! Why you’re rude to Mikey-angel?”

Ibu Dewi went next. “It’s not his fault he’s ugly!”

Then Ibu Eka. “We’ve gotten past it. He’s helped! Tell her!”

Kendra flashed red eyes amongst the women before landing on Mikey. “What did you do?”

They quieted, but shared looks.

Mikey stuttered over her appearance.

She probably looked ready to rip him to shreds.

“Well?” She pressed with a foot forward.

“What did I do!? I’m confused! I don’t understand what’s going on!” Mikey squeaked out.

The aunties all burst out laughing.

Falling over themselves, they sought fixtures. Before Kendra could move, they descended on her. They grabbed Mikey too, but he seemed far less perturbed. If it was anyone else, Kendra might have bucked them off. As it stood, these ladies were the representation panel of her meal committee. Even if she was on a better financial footing these days, she relied on the leftovers. Which meant she had to keep some semblance of peace. She hated having to be the one to do so.

“Ibu Ade.” She chose the fairest of the bunch.

“Yes, Dat.” Said woman was also the one who clung the most to her arm.

“Who is this?”

Though not without her faults, Ibu Ade looked to the other women before peering back at Kendra. “Now, Dat, we heard him call to you.”

“He’s gone to the coffee shop. You know I take names to call the orders. We’ve talked about this.” Kendra spoke as calmly as she could.

The other women watched on like vultures.

They would pick up dying weakness if she breathed a hint of exposure.

“Say his name, Dat.” Ibu Ade looked up at Kendra with all knowing eyes.

“Michelangelo.” Kendra tried not to bite the syllables.

“Mikey-angel.” Ibu Ade confirmed to the others.

They cooed.

Mikey exhaled with some acceptance to his new moniker.

“And what did he so graciously do, Ibu Ade?” Kendra prompted after an appropriate amount of time had passed.

“Oh!” The woman finally released her.

Kendra felt like she took her first breath in ages.

The woman shuffled over to Mikey and slapped his chest. “Mikey-angel got the city’s approval! Our garden is secured!”

The women all moved in various states of prayer.

Kendra appraised them and Mikey with a sharp eye.

Mikey’s lips thinned out in a long line.

“He helped with the garden?” Kendra asked.

“Oh, Dat!” Ibu Dewi made a crude gesture. “Of course, he did.”

“He did!” Ibu Eka repeated.

Kendra hummed.

Mikey looked like he wanted to speak.

Kendra waited out the women’s glances and shot him a glower when she had cover.

He kept quiet, but eyed her with a plea.

“He looks strong.” Kendra commented casually before starting to turn on cue. “I gotta get back to the melinjo.”

“He does look strong…” Ibu Ade took the bait first.

“True! I feel muscles!” Ibu Dewi squeezed Mikey’s arm.

“You came by for a reason, that’s right?” Ibu Eka crooned.

Kendra slipped right back through the corn.

Mikey would follow her soon.

She pretended to clean up the leaves behind her and meandered to her full bucket.

Within minutes Mikey was escorted over by Kakek Elang.

He had a pair of gloves in hand and she hid her smirk.

Mikey looked more confused than ever as Kakek told her to direct him in picking and watch him in case he messed up the crop.

She agreed and the older man hobbled off.

A useless chain of command that saw nothing through.

For once it was to her advantage and as soon as the elder was gone, she got right in Mikey’s face. “What the fuck are you doing here!?”

Mikey’s gloves flopped as his hands shot up.

“Those don’t fit!” She seethed at a quiet enough level. “Did they not look at your hands?!”

“I know! What was I supposed to say!?” Mikey huffed like it was a relief to finally be able to comment on something.

“Don’t think you got off from stalking me!” She sent him her broiling rage. “How did you think this was going to play out, you-!”

“Hold up!” His brow ridge drooped. “I did not stalk you!”

“Then explain why you’re here?!”

“I needed calabash!”

Kendra’s lips tore as she pursed them and, for a moment, she worried about her lipstick.

She then remembered she wasn’t wearing any. She had none of her usual armor and was wearing her stupid step-brother’s sweatshirt. In her striping she felt a sense of reality. She had known Mikey long enough that she could identify actual confusion. She didn’t have to give him the benefit of the doubt, but she knew there was more.

He knew her too. She could tell by the way he had concisely answered her question. He cut the fat and told her the simplest truth first. She liked to break apart everything he said and he had opened the door for exactly that. It was now her turn to extrapolate what she wanted. He was aware of his place and she gave him a bit of space by dropping to the flats of her feet.

“Short sentences, explain everything.”

He disengaged with some exhaustion. “Okay, let’s see…”

She folded her arms.

“I’ve been really into making curries.” He started and his hands moved to gesture wildly. “Curry is so cool. The history is wild and each country has its own version!”

She eyed him for the conjunction.

“Right.” He pointed at her genially. “You can make dudhi basundi in an Instant Pot, but-” He caught himself and thought for a moment before continuing. “Instant Pots are scams. I have a pressure cooker. Same thing, but better.”

She loosened her grip on her torso.

“Dudhi basundi needs bottle gourd. Well, it said it needed lauki, which is also dudhi, but whenever I searched for those I got calabash.”

She let it all slide along with her arms. “The point?”

“I couldn’t find it!” He sent her wild eyes that were a reflection of his memory. “I went to all the specialty markets! The hole-in-the-wall grocery stores! The more obscure the better! It wasn’t even out of season! No one had any!”

She listened.

“Then someone said they knew someone of someone and poof! I’m here!”

He took several steps back with his outstretched arms and twirled.

“A community garden! These are so cool! I love them! Rare produce grown with love! Food cooked right off the vines!” He yelled affectionately and slowed himself to look at her. “I had to get a piece of the action.”

“When?”

He almost asked another question, but thought better of it.

Her lids were heavy. “When was this?”

“Like eight months ago.”

“What!?”

In spite of her exclamation, that made sense.

Even if she was working on orders, she had seen the garden as she walked through it. She could make educated guesses. There was no calabash ready to harvest. Mikey’s details fit a larger picture which gave him credence. She couldn’t remember exactly, but Kendra had remembered that some calabash was ripe earlier this year.

They had certainly eaten enough lauki ki sabzi.

That meant Mikey knew her community since a time well before he saw her at the coffee shop.

What did that mean?

Was this a ruse?

Had it been one all along?

If Donatello wanted to have his last laugh-

She stopped herself.

A full tilt stop that came with an aggravated assault on her memories with Mikey.

She knew the truth.

She knew enough about him to know his ridiculous heart was on his sleeve.

She looked at him.

He was waiting with tepid hope.

That she would believe him.

That she would clear all this up.

She lowered her gaze and took an uncharacteristic breath. “Did you know I was going to be here?”

“No.” He stood a little straighter and looked a little happier. “Can I ask a question?”

She guessed so. “Sure.”

“Are you Indonesian?”

This time she did roll her eyes. “You’re joking.”

“No!”

“Mikey…”

“I didn’t want to assume!”

“Indoeskrim!?” She threw an obvious hand up.

“Indo-what?!”

“The affogato!”

“The ice cream!” He snapped his finger.

They stared for a moment and both disengaged as coolly as they could.

They only glanced at each other twice to see if the timing was appropriate.

“Keep going.” She told him.

“So I know the deal, I’m in like five co-ops! You do work and get rewarded. Since the guy of a guy I knew had one of the grocery stores, they asked if I could liaison to sell some of the extra calabash crop. I bought some since I was the middle man.”

“You made the dudhi basundi.”

“Curry was on, but like there’s this garden here and I gotta get my hands on more of this stuff. I’m seeing stuff I’ve never seen before!”

“You didn’t steal…”

“Of course not!” He chuffed at the mere mention. “I wanted to work, but they wouldn’t let me! I tried to weasel my way in, but I was boxed out.”

“Really?” That was Mikey’s foul card.

Mutant or not, these people loved a strapping young man that wanted to work.

Mikey’s body language said he felt the frustration.

“Seriously! I think I wanted it too bad! Also I may have insulted someone because I wanted the ingredients more than their version of the dishes, but I wanted to make my own…”

A tiny referee version of Kendra called for play to continue. “Yeah! Insulted is right! You basically said you hated their cooking to their face and that you could do better.”

Mikey gasped loud. “I would never!!”

Kendra popped a brow.

“Okay maybe after I practice, but you tell me that after making ten thousand omurices that I’m not on par with that Kichi Kichi guy!”

“Ten thousand?” Kendra pressed her incredulity.

“Swear!” Mikey crossed an ‘x’ over his chest then almost poked himself in the eye. “It’s a thing about curds and pride.”

“Same here.” She swept a hand around the garden.

“Exactly! I knew I messed up!” Mikey walked a little closer to share his misery. “I couldn’t work here here so I did odd jobs. It was mostly delivery stuff and I noticed something.”

She gave him her ear.

Mikey came close enough to whisper. “Besides insulting them unintentionally, I noticed they were real touchy about the space, I mean look…”

Together they glanced at how the buildings enclosed the lot.

They looked toward the two high layers of fence surrounding the small parts that had a chance of being exposed.

He brought their attention back where it was his brow’s turn to pop.

“This place was off the books. Guerilla gardening, which I dig, but it’s not, as they say, ‘kosher.’”

“Yeah, duh.”

“So I went through the New York rules and regulations to make it not that. Whatever I needed to do to make it legit.”

“You did?” She eyed him.

“I did and hated every second of it!” Mikey puffed out his plastron.

Kendra pushed him with a playful edge.

He swept along with a stumble, but rotated sideways to circle her in a wide arch.

She spun to keep him in front.

When he finally approached it was almost with a purr. “You’ve got mud on your face.”

“Don’t!” She hissed. “They’re watching. It’s bad enough we’re talking.”

He nodded, but still dug into his person. “Permit took awhile. I came by today to say it was approved.”

“Then where is it?” She watched on.

He found a multi-colored scrap of fabric and offered it to her.

She found it dubious, but still used it to blot her face.

Mikey smiled and she snapped the cloth at him.

“They won’t give it to me because I’m not the owner or operator whatever. I needed an address.”

“Use the internet.”

“But…!” Mikey threw up his arms and did one quick spin toward all the buildings. “I can, but which one!? Look how many apartments there are!”

She frowned deeply.

She doubted the many families updated their online credentials. She bet several of the apartments were all under one man’s name. There was also the issue of landlording. The man in question who owned the building had been out of the country for as long as she could remember. If this was a hoax, and Kendra would never rule out the possibility, Mikey was clearly working every possible technicality.

“You got your vegetables. Five co-ops? I doubt you needed more. This all sounds like a huge hassle just to get people to like you…” She spoke in a voice that surprised her with its softness. “Why?”

“This again…” Mikey deflated with some meter of affection.

She sent him a wary gaze.

“This place is amazing.” He approached her again and finally took the fabric from her.

He turned it over in his hand to get a clean scrap and pinched it off.

She scowled at it with readied nails.

He gave her a look that told her to give him a chance.

She stewed, didn’t let up, but also didn’t move.

He took that to mean he got about as much permission he could and was clinical in reaching out to wipe her forehead with little scuffs.

“I love community gardens. I first found out about them when I was really young. Back when we were eating tossed leftovers or whatever restaurants didn’t sell. Dad was worried about vitamins and kept mentioning vegetables. Each of us had our own idea of how to find them and mine was finding gardens with Leo.”

“So, what?” She leaned into him.

He wiped toward her hairline and picked up some sweat before dropping his arm. “So, I can’t say I’m good with paperwork or county offices or whatever. It’s the most boring thing in the world, but I can say that I have an idea of how to make the process legit. I did that for your favorite reason: just cause. You’re right. It stopped being about the vegetables.”

“You always say that, but it’s never actually that…”

Mikey’s lip pursed and he folded up his makeshift hanky.

“You’re like obsessed.”

“Why were you mad when you first saw me?”

She sort of expected him to shift attention and looked at him expectantly.

“You were extra mad.”

“Why do you think I’m here?”

“Your family lives here?” Mikey ventured.

“No.” She spoke solemnly and looked out at the plants.

She hoped there was some sort of answer among them, but there never had been one before.

There wasn’t one now.

She sighed.

“I do.”

Mikey twitched.

She swept her gaze back to him.

His lips had turned down so sharply that his entire face sagged around his despair.

“Stop!” She smashed her palm into his beak. “Don’t pity me! The neighborhood isn’t that bad!”

“What?!” He caught her wrist and pulled her arm straight down.

Their faces came together from the momentum.

“That is not what I’m upset about!”

“What then!? How is that not pity!?”

“You were protecting your privacy! I wasn’t supposed to know!”

“Exactly!” She could feel herself spittle.

He didn’t react at all other than his eyes growing wider. “You thought I figured it out and stalked you here!!!”

“Not so loud!” Her tongue clicked.

He released and tossed his head away and back. “Wait, no! I’m thinking about it! This looks so bad and scary!!”

She let her head similarly hang. “You take so long to put things together.”

“How was I supposed to know!?”

“I’m here!”

“So?!”

“Look at me!”

“You look like you’re doing yard work!”

“You think I would go more than 5 minutes from home like this!?”

“Don’t pull that!” Mikey puffed up. “Everyone has a down in the dumps day where they don’t care! If anyone could own that, it’s you!”

She was equally flattered and insulted. “I have pride! So, no! I don’t get down in the dumps! I have appearances to keep!”

“For who!?”

“For everyone!”

“Why?!” He reared. “Who cares?!”

“Everyone!!” She descended on him and he had to scramble so they wouldn’t collide. “Everyone all the time! You know how much shit I get about my hair!? How much I’ve always gotten!? The one thing that’s mine!?”

The fight fell off Mikey with each sentence.

“And we’re back to pity!” She scoffed away.

He chased her. “It’s not pity!”

“Then what?!” She tried to turn away.

“It’s self expression!” He curled around her side. “That’s everything to me!”

“Yeah, well…” She stopped with a turned head.

He stood close by. “I trusted your attitude.”

She said nothing.

“You’re right.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“No, about it… Well, me… not being so simple. It’s hard to remember everything! There’s so much that goes into a person and it’s hard to remember that’s a byproduct of everything they’ve been through. It’s not just an, ‘oh, I like this thing.’ It’s when you were shown. It’s why you found out about it. It’s how long you’ve had it. It’s the joy you felt the first time. Heck, it could be the bad! It could have been the only good thing you had on a bad day and it’s a comfort. It’s anything. It’s everything… It’s everyone. Even when we’re alone we’re all these pieces whether we know it or not.”

She was slow to glance at him.

He gave her a meaningful look.

She relented the slightest amount.

“I think I like community gardens because they represent what I don’t have.”

Her lips parted to mention all the co-ops, but she thought better.

“Community…” Mikey looked around. “You all have a hand in this. You all care about what it makes, together. The things that grow here are special. This is your heritage. Of knowing where these foods came from. Of making up for how you couldn’t normally get them. Of who knew how to get the seeds. How to grow them. How to keep them alive. How to use them. How to cook them. It’s all passed down. It’s all amazing and it’s… something I’ve never had.”

Kendra watched openly.

Mikey looked a sort of wounded that seemed nostalgic. “I’m Japanese, among other things if my cloaking brooch human self is any indication, and I’m always going to be disconnected from that.”

Her fingers twitched.

“Like dad shared some.” He glanced at her. “He taught us martial arts. He talked a lot about honor and respect even if he didn’t always use those words. When he made us apologize, there were hints, but he left his culture behind when he came here. It became comod… comodo… Ugh, what’s the word for when it becomes a thing to sell?”

“Commodified.” Her body spoke.

“Yeah, that. He had been a commodity for years. The martial arts movies are an ideal, not reality. Though dang… fish and ladders really do work.”

She allowed a skeptical look.

“Trust me. I thought the same thing.” He returned a faraway smile. “But that’s… it. No food. His special dish is green bean casserole! Like what?! He was born in Japan. I know he lost grandma when he was young, but great grandpa tried! From the little I’ve found out, he ate regional stuff when he was young and he just… dropped it. All the food and everything else. I know why. I get it. I get that he wanted to break the cycle. Give us the freedom he wanted, but I always felt… like there was this piece of me missing.”

She looked down her arm.

“And there’s all the ‘hidden underground for years’ thing. We didn’t meet April until we were like ten. Dad gave us the best childhood he could, but it’s kind of a bummer when the only person you can sell lemonade to from your lemonade stand is your dad!”

She turned her hand over to see her palm.

“There was so much world and we obviously dove into it, but I didn’t know it. I knew the commercial side of it. The abridged version and it was never enough. Even when we found out the whole Hamato lineage fate situation, I thought maybe that was what I’d always been missing, but it was more fundamental. I don’t know. Some people would wonder why it even matters, but it connects us. Food connects us. We’re all already connected, but there’s so much more… I’m rambling… I don’t know.”

She moved with creaky hesitation until her hand landed on his arm.

He blinked first at the contact in general and then to the one who offered it. “Sorry. That was a lot.”

She shook her head.

He leaned into her touch. “It’s hard to understand.”

“I’m first generation too.”

Mikey looked at her anew.

“My mom was a missionary.”

His hand moved to cover hers.

She sighed and closed her eyes. “She traveled a lot before she met my dad. They sort of knew each other, but got close when they immigrated in the 90s like most people here.”

He nodded.

She shrugged. “It’s basic stuff. They got married here. Named their kid something they hoped passed, and I took PB&Js to lunch. The classic ‘try not to stick out’ tactic.”

She could tell he wanted to ask more.

She sent him a look that there wasn’t much beyond that. “We had weekly dinners that were close enough to their version of home. I didn’t really notice. To me, that was home. How we did things was normal, but once a week, we were a little different. I figured it was a spiritual thing. I didn’t realize until it stopped that-”

Mikey squeezed her hand and she adjusted her fingers so they were woven in his.

She shook her head. “I didn’t notice until later. Until I couldn’t really go back.”

“Community.” Mikey whispered.

“I guess.” She sent him a frustrated look. “It may look like it’s all gushy support, uplifting each other and emotional crap, but it’s not. There’s alienation. I’m assuming that’s what your dad tried to get away from even without the prophecy or whatever it was you had. People here band together out of necessity. They’ll say it’s to preserve the old ways, but it’s not always that. Some of it is preservation against the world itself. Some of it is shit they need to unlearn. You know how intense the caste system is where my family’s from!? It’s illegal, but try to tell people to replace centuries of tradition! It’s a ruse. They say they’re upholding something, but they’re not! They’ll treat you like shit one second and gold the next depending on how useful you are!”

Mikey’s expression fell.

“And that’s when they’re not crapping over you for not knowing all these supposed ways when they didn’t teach you because they said they wanted to give you a better life! Double standard after double standard!”

She sent him a crazed look and he returned it with a crestfallen one.

“But that prejudice… or some form of it. You would know, being a mutant.”

He nodded. “Yeah… from both humans and yokai.”

“Yokai?”

“So like part of me has the American-Japanese thing going on, but there’s also the turtle-mutant thing which is like a yokai-human thing.”

“Yokai is… what you call your animal part?”

“Kind… of…? They’re mythological creatures that are actually real.”

“Like spirits or demons...”

“Yeah, that and folklore. Usually, they’re all those things in history that anyone noticed long enough to tell a tall tale. You can probably assume that’s actually a yokai.”

“Huh.”

“One of my dads is pure yokai so he tries to share that culture, which has a lot of hating humans in it, but that also might be him because I don’t know if all yokai are like that. It can be tough, but yeah… there’s another two worlds thing I’m straddling.”

“Hard.” She sympathized.

He nodded with a bobbing brow ridge. “It’s a lot and totally why I try not to think about it. What’s the point? It’s a thing and man, I hate things like that. Too many parts and too much to worry about. I just want to be me.”

“That is why I wanted to crush the system.”

Mikey’s eyes lit up.

She broke from his hold and put up walls that were albeit shorter than usual. “Not doing that again. Look where it got me. The gardening is whatever. I do the gardening because they make me. I don’t get my meal ticket otherwise.”

She walked toward her bucket.

He hopped after. “Tell me one day? Not all of dismantling oppression is illegal. Fight the power.”

“Stop.” She chuckled and got the handle.

“Wanna share it?”

“I said stop.” She rolled her eyes to him.

“Not that.” He approached her side and moved to grab a portion of the plastic handle. “This. Don’t underestimate our combined power!”

She eyed how he hadn’t offered or pushed to carry it himself.

He did have his advantages.

She slid her hand to one side so he had better room and together they picked the container of spores up. “You talk a big game, but you’re too pure. You couldn’t even correct the aunties about your name.”

“Did you see how happy they were?!” Mikey sent her a watery look.

She brushed it off. “Uh huh.”

He pouted openly as they moved in tandem. “What about your name? They said it differently. Is that how you say your name in Indonesian?”

She flinched and was silent through most of the process of dropping off the bucket and exchanging it for another.

Mikey’s curiosity obviously grew.

When they were enough out of earshot, she allowed a scowl. “Kendat is an insult.”

He jarred.

“They don’t paint it like that, but I know.”

“Kendra…”

“They always told me it meant ‘interruption.’ It comes from when I was younger. I asked too many questions. My dad let me get away with too much. Poor Kendra, she’s annoying, hopefully all those questions mean she’ll be smart. She can get into a good school with all that interest. She’s smart enough to become a doctor...”

They reached the gnetum plants and she put the bucket down.

“It means ‘fart.’”

Mikey’s jaw dropped.

“Interruption.” She seethed. “Kentat is fart. They dolled it up real nice because it sounds the same.”

“And like your name…”

“That they hate.” She put her gloves on with a snap to the weathered leather. “There’s the heritage you want so bad. You tell a little kid that doesn’t know the language one thing knowing full well they’ll never know otherwise.”

“But you learned…”

“Had to. Enough to get by at least.” She pinched off a few spores before remembering she was supposed to show him. “Get them like this and put them in the bucket.”

He followed suit with bare hands.

For a while there was the quiet of berry-like objects thumping against plastic. Eventually they built up a thin layer that morphed the sound into a soft plop of spores against one another. The bucket filled up to about a quarter of the way before Mikey broke and pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“I’m so mad… I can barely think straight.”

Kendra said nothing and kept picking.

“That would drive me insane. I want to do something. I want to fix it!”

A handful of red buds trickled into the container.

“But I get that you can’t!!” He groaned. “We were reduced to our colors! I don’t know if his eyesight is bad for what!? Dad still does it! He gave us the masks, I guess, to tell us apart, but it doesn’t matter! And if we ever complained, he got mad at us for trying to correct him and had all these reasons why we shouldn’t, but those kept changing! It was always so he wouldn’t be at fault and he could keep calling us what he wanted to!”

She slowed and smirked right into the leaves.

“Exactly. Ugh.” He shook his head. “Well from orange to interruption, I’m sorry.”

She tipped her head to him.

“Yours is worse, obviously.”

“Yep.”

“It doesn’t help, but I’ll never call you anything like that.”

“Thanks.”

“I like your name.”

She paused for a moment before cracking the first bits of a smile. “I do too.”

“Who picked it?”

“Mom.”

“She has great taste.”

“Yeah… She did.” She glanced at him. “Come on, you’re gonna get an earful.”

“Good thing I don’t have ears.”

“You have ears.” She scolded him lightly.

“La la la!” He pretended not to hear.

She flicked a melinjo at him.

He caught it and showed her that he placed it in the bucket with grace. “Waste not!”

“Yeah, I doubt that’s a problem. We’re gonna be drowning in sour soup.”

“Sour soup?!” Mikey lit up with excitement. “What’s that? How’s it sour?”

“These, dummy.” She showed him the bucket. “I don’t know if that’s what they’re gonna make. It’s just a guess, don’t get excited. You won’t get any if you don’t work.”

“The community garden cert wasn’t enough!?”

“Would your dad think it was?” Kendra shot him a look.

Mikey was affronted and yielded with a chuff. “Not even kind of.”

“Work and I’ll introduce you to an Ibu that makes really good calabash curry that I bet rivals yours.”

Instead of gawking, he went to work at twice the speed.

Kendra slowed and waited for his first flickers of excitement to die out so she could explain to him how the workload should be handled.

🧡 NEXT 🧡

My laptops out of commission again, but my betas keep going @tmntxthings @thepinkpanther83 and @unrestrainedhotsoup

#AENEMfic #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt Michelangelo #rise Michelangelo #Michelangelo hamato #rottmnt mikey #rise mikey #rise kendra #rottmnt kendra #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction #kenkey #i didnt forget to post because I was playing monopoly and mouthwashing

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helplesslypurple77 · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Day 1-Atsushi/Reader w/ promts Cunnilingus and First Time

Notes: Kinktober day 1 yayayay, also i intended for all of these to be cutsy little drabbles, you know like 800 words or something, but now all of them sit at over 2,000 words sooooooo

Never before has four feet felt so far apart. It's like you're stranded on one side of a large crater, just barely able to see your boyfriend on the other side. And if that wasn't enough, the crater is clearly made up of the most awkward silence known to man. Not a single bird dares to fly across the skies, scared of the consequences that might ensue, less they dare to traverse these tense skies.

Ok maybe you're being a bit dramatic, but the inocuos four feet of comforter between you and your boyfriend Atsushi really does feel so big, and yet so small. Your fingers tap anxiously against the blankets, drawing little invisible patterns on the blue comforter. Atsushi’s own fingers are clasped anxiously in his lap, his foot tapping on the floor. You clear your throat, and interrupt the silence that had enveloped the two of you.

“Where’s Kyoka?”

Atsushi startles, a little shiver running the length of his body and he avoids your eyes as he responds. “Dazai took her and Ranpo out for all you can eat dessert.” The silence envelopes the two of you again. Your heart pounds against your chest, your pulse embarrassingly fast, and you know for a fact Atsushi can hear it with those tiger senses of his. Your only reassurance is that you can hear his heartbeat as well, pounding just as embarrassingly as your own.

Atsushi jumps to his feet, startling you out of your own embarrassment. “I'll get you some water.” he stutters out and with that he's gone, and you can hear the sound of the kitchen tap running. You take a deep breath, studying your breath and taking off your coat and hat, forgotten in your mortification.

You and Atsushi have been dating for about a month, and had gotten pretty comfortable with each other, but one step into his house alone and all of a sudden it was like the first date all over again. If you were being honest, you were really hoping something would happen. You loved Atsushi dearly, and would want nothing more than to move to the next step with him, and finally connect on a more intimate level. And it would also be nice to shed your Virgin status.

Footsteps notify you of the return of your boyfriend, as he makes his way back out of the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand. It happens in slow motion. Your usually careful boyfriend’s foot catches on the side of the rug, and he trips, the glass in his hand flying towards you. You dodge the glass, but you're not so lucky with the water, and it splashes all over your shirt, soaking the white fabric. Atsushi rushes forward, apologies on his lips.

“I'm so sorry, Name! Are you ok?” He grips your shoulders, checking you over for injuries just in case. You let out a laugh, all the earlier awkwardness gone from the air. “Yeah i'm fine, i just got a little wet,” You don't notice as your boyfriend looks down, his eyes widening at the sight of your black lacy bra, showing through the see through fabric of your shirt. He interrupts with a shriek, falling backwards onto the floor in an effort to get away, his hands over his eyes as he babbles, “I'm so sorry I didn't mean to see! I mean I swear I didn't see anything! Nope! Nothing at all!”

You stare at him, confused, until your eyes follow his as they drift down. You feel your cheeks flush, and you want to cover your chest, but fate seems to have presented you with an opportunity. You ignore the burning on your cheeks as you pull your shirt over your head. The only sounds in the room are the garbled noises of distress from your boyfriend. You toss your wet shirt to the floor, the wet slap echoing in the room. You crook your finger at Atsushi, and act as if your own cheeks aren't burning. “Wanna touch me?” You put a little pur in your voice, and unzip your skirt, tossing it to the floor as well. Your boyfriend manages a whole sentence, his cheeks still furiously red.

“Well I want to touch you. A lot.” He averts his eyes, looking a little two guilty for your liking. “But I would never want to pressure you into anything—” You slip off the bed and bend down, shutting him up with a sweet kiss. One of the many things you love about him is his considerate nature, but sometimes it really bites you in the butt. You pull back, meeting his eyes. “I want you Atsushi, I've been wanting this for a while.”

His lips meet yours again, and he stands, pulling you with him to the bed. He sits and you follow suit, sinking onto his lap, your lips still sealed. His kiss is soft and familiar, but as you settle on his lap it changes, becoming a little more hungry. Atsushi’s hands fall to your waist, holding you against him as your hands tangle in his hair, your bodies pressed so close. You can feel his heartbeat, pounding against his chest, and you know he can feel yours in turn. You feel unstable and out of breath as you pull apart, udjusting on his lap as you feel a hardness pressed against your panties. Atsushi muffles a groan and a muttered apology in your neck. You move your hips back and forth, copying what you see in porn, and let out a little moan as a bolt of pleasure shoots up your body, electrifying your nerves with pleasure. It feels amazing, and you press down a little harder. Atsushi’s hands feel like a brand on your waist as they grip you tighter, helping you move your hips along the hot length still trapped in his pants.

Everything feels warm and fuzzy and wonderful and you love the little noises Atsushi makes into your neck, but all you want is more. Your voice sounds strange when you speak, all raspy and sexy. “More…”

Atsushi stops, lifting his head from your neck and meeting your eyes. “What?” “I want more.” The air seems to crackle between you two, and you feel a wetness in your underwear rubbing against your thighs as you roll off him, positioning yourself back on his bed.

Atsushi still has that dazed look in his eye, but he returns to the world as you flick off your bra. He averts his eyes and holds out hand. “Wait!” You look up, in the process of shedding your panties, and eye him impatiently. “What?” He's worrying his hands in his lap, twisting his fingers round and round in an anxious display. The impatient mood melts from your body, and you sink back into the pillow, a slight bit of insecurity worming its way into your brain. “Do you not want me?” Atsushi shakes his head vigorously. “No, god no that's not it.” he says, his eyes dropping ever so much to the tent in his pants and his cheeks turning pink. “It's just, um, im a virgin…” he almost whisperes the last part, his cheeks pink, his pretty eyes averted.

You can't help the little laugh you let out. You smile at him as he stares incredulously at you. You're still giggling when you speak. “Me too.” The tension melts out of his frame, and he laughs a little as well. But you watch as his shoulders sink again, and he stops starting at your boobs and meets your eyes instead. “Are you sure you want me to take your virginity—” You kiss him again, pulling him back onto the bed with you. You love Atsushi, so so much and it hurts to see his opinion of himself. To you, he deserves everything in the world, but he doesn't seem to think so. So it's your job as his girlfriend to show him that he deserved the world, and anything else he wanted as well.

His complaints seem to have died down, but that's probably because he's far too busy devouring your mouth with his own, all while your hands work the buttons of his shirt down, fingers shaky with urgency. Kissing is a song and dance the two of you have done many times before, and as your hands rid him of his shirt and tie, tossing them somewhere on the floor, his skillful tongue plays with your own, teasing your mouth in a way that makes your nether regions throb with desire. You want him to eat you out.

You tell him as much when the two of you pull away for air, and watch with desire as his cheeks flush a dark red, and he slowly makes his way down your chest, leaving little love bits on your skin. He gets a little distracted by your boobs, but you're not complaining as the sensations of his tongue on your nipples sends shocks of pleasure to your clit.

His eyes are hazy, their brilliant purple and yellow tones clouded with devotion and love, something that looks very familiar to hunger. Lust.

He already feels much more experienced than you, and that feeling is only heightened by the feeling of his rough tongue on your lower region. He finds the clit almost alarmingly fast, and as you grip his hair with a cry, you question him. “How are you this good?”

He pulls his face away from your pussy and sends you a little smile, more suited to another activity than this one. “Dazai forced most of the Agency to watch him do a presentation on cunnilingus. He got almost all the way through before Kunikida died of mortification, and Ranpo doubted his ability to ‘get pussy’.” You are momentarily distracted by imagining the scene but all thoughts of the others flee your mind as he dives back down, layving little kitten(heh) licks to your clit interspersed with slower licks around your hole, occasionally dipping in, doing his best to drive you insane with pleasure.

Your eyes want to close, but the sight between your legs is motivation enough to keep them wide open. Atsushi looks wrecked. His hair is a mess, the soft silver strands tangled between your fingers as you buck your hips, pushing your clit against his nose as he tongue fucks you hole. His eyes have fallen closed, and sweat pebbles at his temple as you moan, a tight ball of heat pooling in your lower stomach. You feel like you know what that means, and as much as you want him to do this forever, you want something else more. You want him inside of you. You pull him off you, his relentless tongue leaving you, as he openes hi eyes in confusion.

His eyes are heavy lidded, foggy and so lidded with desire that the purple is almost entirely covered, the usually brilliant yellow a more heavy golden shade. He cocks his head in confusion.

“Condom?” You choke out as he crawls forward, looking far too similar to a predator eyeing its next meal. You suppose that's not entirely untrue. He shakes some of the haze out of his eyes. “In the bedside table.” You reach around blindly, and your fingers come in contact with it, pulling it out and raising an eyebrow, reading the words written in blindingly white text on the wrapper.

“John's ultra soft bandages?” Atsushi, who has just finished shedding his pants, coughs and snatches it from you. “Dazai gave them to me, he said they were from a free giveaway.”

If you were not in the middle of something, the fact that apparently bandage companies give away free condoms now would have more of an impact, but you're far too distracted by Atsushi’s clumsy hands as they tear open the packaging, and roll the condom down his length.

Maybe it's because you trust him with your entire heart, but you don't feel apprehensive or nervous, even as he lines his throbbing length up with your hole, and ever so slowly nudges in. The stretch isn't painful, not even by a longshot with all that preparation he did, but it still burns a bit as he finally bottoms out with a breath, his hips trembling as he holds himself still for your sake.

You feel so close, so connected, so loved. You can feel his heartbeat pressed against your chest, his warm throbbing length buried deep inside you, his ragged breaths in your ear. You can tell how much effort it takes to hold himself back, to not rut into you desperately, and yet he still holds still, just for you. You feel so full, both literally and figuratively, and you love it.

“Move baby.” You rasp in his ear, your hands gripping his shoulders as he whimpers, doing as you request. His thrustsq aren't steady, but what he lacks in experience he makes up for in sheer size and accuracy, his well aimed thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge of the metaphorical cliff.

Your moans fill the air, joining his little grunts and moans to make a wonderful orchestra of pleasure, your shouts of his name only encouraging him more. And then he hits it, a spot inside of you that makes white hot pleasure race through your body. “There! Right there Sushi!” He obeys and makes sure to hit that spot every. single. time. You move your hand down, rubbing your clit furiously, and now you're truly done for. You can tell he's getting close as well, when you open your eyes, and almost lose it right there.

He looks almost feral, eyes alight with lust and pleasure, sweat dripping down his temples, the lowlight doing its best to turn him to an angel, hallowed by the silver main of hair falling around his face. Your lips part as he meets your eyes. “Sushi?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.”

You cum with a cry, fingernails leaving long scratches in his pale skin. You feel like the tight line of tensions inside you has finally snapped, leaving you falling into a well of deep pleasure, drowning inside him.

You feel his hips still, and you hear his raspy reply as his dick twitches inside you. “I love you to Name, so much.”

...

End Notes: Just imagine Dazai forcing them all to watch a slideshow thats actually pretty informative, but full of dumb memes and stupid emojis and every metafore has something to do with suicide. And of course, Ranpo isnt paying attention, Kunikida is mortified, and Atsushi is actually taking notes

#bungou stray dogs #atsushi x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd smut #mariannacrxss #helplesslypurple77Kinktober #kinktober 2023

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