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minisugakoobies · 4 months

Text

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted.

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem.

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you.

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around.

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around.

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous?

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye.

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago.

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him.

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late.

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs.

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back.

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that.

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You: It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me?

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort.

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little.

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is.

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one.

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance.

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response.

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing.

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man.

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible.

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not?

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now.

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide.

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge.

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?”

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back.

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands.

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu.

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon.

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it?

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses.

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.”

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close.

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?”

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment.

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now.

“I want what you promised me.”

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.”

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.”

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him.

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can.

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.”

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips.

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face.

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel.

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.”

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want.

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation.

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now.

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?”

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat.

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes.

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.”

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you.

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck.

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly.

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo.

“‘Gyu, please.”

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around.

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?”

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.”

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you.

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up.

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements.

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!”

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.”

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids.

“It’ll be something like this.”

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.”

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over.

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!”

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you.

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again.

“Kiss me.”

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.”

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip.

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.”

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands.

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.”

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture?

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.”

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?”

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.”

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?”

“I might have some ideas.”

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!”

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a-b-riddle · 5 months

Text

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst with a happy ending #angst #grovel #jealousy

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whimsyfinny · 19 days

Text

Sexy F*cking Nerd

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean discovers a little secret of (Y/n)'s during a case research session he can't help but let temptation get the best of him.

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, Oral (M receiving), slight angst if you squint, Dean having a glasses kink (not really a warning but not everyone wears them hahaha lucky bastards)

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 5688

A/N: It's taken a little while but here is the second competition winner from a few weeks back, the prompt provided by the wonderful @foxyjwls007 - I hope you like it!

The motel room was stuffy to say the least - that usual aroma of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener lingering around us. There was a dripping sound coming from God knows where and the AC hummed in between the concerning clinking from deep within the vents. It was crap. So crap. But it was home for a few nights; just like all the motel rooms that came before. Dean stepped past me and over the threshold, immediately slinging his duffle and jacket onto his chosen bed. He stretched his arms above his head, the grey Henley clutching his muscular abdomen and rising enough to flaunt what lay beneath. I sighed, following him in and slumping onto the bed beside his - the musty stench from the sheets enveloping me.

“Well…” Dean started, pulling Sam's laptop out of his bag and placing it on the small table by the window.

“Well…?” My voice echoed as I focused on the ceiling fan that spun off centre.

“...This is… nice?” His statement was more of a question as he looked around with raised eyebrows. I propped myself up on my elbows, flashing him a look of speculation.

“Seriously?” A moment passed before he huffed a long-held breath and slapped his large palms on his thighs.

“No of course not, this place sucks more dick than a hooker on payday.”

“You got that right,” I flopped back down onto the bed, a small dust cloud erupting under my weight. I closed my eyes and listened as Dean pulled a chair out from under the table, slumping down into it. Then there was the familiar click of the laptop opening followed by the sound of stuttered not-quite-touch-typing, presumably he was starting work on the case that we’d come here to investigate. The tap tap tap of whatever was leaking began to drill into my brain, my patience already wearing thin with the rooms dire ambiance. I pulled myself up to sitting, criss-crossing my legs on the bed and brushing whatever that dust from the bedding was off my sweater sleeves.

“When's Sam back?” I asked, watching as Dean searched the keyboard in front of him for some long lost letter.

“Uuuh, I'm not sure. He said to work this case without him.”

“Ugghhh, I bet he's having way more fun than us right now, it's not fair,” I plopped my chin into my palm and stared past the older Winchester out the window, almost willing Sam to appear and walk in like any other day.

“It's just some dumb wedding, I doubt he's having that much fun.”

I scoffed before I could stop myself, Dean breaking eye contact with the screen to throw me a raised eyebrow.

“Look,” I collected myself, “you didn't know Sam in college. He won't admit it but he was popular. Really popular. Not the total nerd you think he is. He's absolutely having fun with these people.”

“Yeah right. So who's at this wedding anyway? Why was it so important that he just had to be there?”

I rolled my eyes, knowing full well Sam had already told him all the details. Typical Dean.

“It's for a couple of friends who he and Jess were close with back then. Pretty sure the bride was prom queen in highschool or something and the groom was a trust fund jock. Either way, not my crowd,” I sighed slightly, memories from my college days flooding my mind.

Deans eyebrows twitched into a small frown, his thoughts seeming to cloud his vision for a second before he reluctantly dismissed them. I looked down into my lap for a moment, reminiscing how I always kept my distance from Sam whilst at Stanford, but he had always been that boy that would make my heart flutter when he spoke up in class or when I'd see him on the quad with his friends. I remember seeing him with his nose in a book once at my usual desk in the library, my cheeks burning when he caught me staring. Who would've thought several years down the line I'd be sat in a bottom-rung motel room with his obscenely good looking older brother researching monster lore. At least we would be researching monster lore, if it wasn't for the small growl my empty stomach had gurgled out. I couldn't stop the small pulse of embarrassment burning into my cheeks as Dean eyed me with a grin.

“Wanna get some lunch?” He asked, standing up like he already knew my answer.

“Fuck yes. I'm feeling burgers,” I shuffled to the edge of the bed and stood up, watching as Dean shrugged on his leather jacket and headed to the door, holding it open for me.

“Now you're speaking my language.”

The diner was almost as sad and withered as the motel room, however the food was nothing short of spectacular. I watched in awe as Dean polished off his second burger, a small glob of sauce sticking to his stubble and threatening to drip off his chin. He must've felt me watching in wonder - or perhaps disgust - as when he looked up from his plate he shot me a questioning glance.

“What?” His tone was a little defensive through the mouthful of fries he'd just shovelled in. I took a second before asking, half-genuine:

“Where do you put all of that?”

“Put what?”

“The food - where does it go? Do you have hollow legs? Two stomachs? Does it just evaporate as soon as you swallow it?”

He grinned, wiping the sauce from his face with a napkin.

“Goes straight to the abs baby. It's muscle fuel,” he leant back in his chair, stretching a little before patting his stomach to punctuate his statement. I simply rolled my eyes.

“Yeah right, you're not that muscly Dean.”

“How would you know? You've never seen me with my shirt off.”

“I know, and I plan to keep it that way.”

He feigned a pout before returning to his fries. We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, my mind absently going back to all the lore we should be trying to gather. I gripped my milkshake that had so generously been served in a thin paper cup, attempting to suck the practically solid beverage up the equally thin paper straw. Finding the nearest library would be the next task on our to-do list, despite the protesting I know I'll get from Dean.

“Hey, (Y/n)?” My train of thought was derailed at the sound of my name. The slurping of over-thickened milkshake from myself ceased.

“What's up?”

“What were you like in college?”

I eyed him with caution, wondering what part of his brain was in control right now.

“What do you wanna know?”

Catching the wariness to divulge him to such information, he smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I'm not asking to be weird, I just-” he paused, choosing his next words tactfully, “the way you described Sam as being a totally different person - some hot-shot with the perfect grades, popular friends and a girlfriend like Jess - it just got me thinking. How would Sam have described you?”

I almost spat my dairy-goop back into the straw, my brain freezing.

“Dean,” I started before planning what I was going to say, placing my cup on the table. “Sam wouldn't be able to describe me.”

My words brought a small smirk to his lips.

“You were that hot, huh?”

“What the fuck- no- I wasn't- he didn't- Sam never- ” I stopped myself before I had an aneurysm and took a deep breath.

“I was in a totally different crowd to Sam. He was always surrounded by people and, well, I barely even had a crowd.”

“Lone wolf?”

“Bingo. But definitely not the cool, collected, stoic type. Think more, invisible to the public eye, always carrying books, and borderline selective mute because of how shy I was.”

“Oh… what changed?,” Deans tone changed entirely, genuine intrigue seeming to take the wheel. I couldn't help but laugh slightly, remembering my method to forcing myself out of my bubble.

“The only job I could get was in a bar. No one else wanted the hours and I desperately needed cash. I didn't really have a choice after that,” I paused, remembering how terrified I was on my first day and grinned slightly, grateful for the extra confidence I had now because I took that leap.

“Hey, what sort of crowd do you think I would've been in?”

I snorted, looking up into his expectant eyes - almost captivated by the glistening greens.

“What am I? A BuzzFeed quiz? I have no idea Dean, you're too much of a wildcard to predict. You probably would've fit in with anyone and everyone.”

“Even you?”

For reasons unbeknownst to even myself, my breath caught in my throat. The sudden soft sincerity of his voice contradicting his usual temperament, my heart starting to flutter in my chest. If the college version of myself had met Dean back then I just know I would have been enthralled at first glance.

“I don't think you would've noticed me. You would've been surrounded by every tall, thin blonde and brunette with perfect tits. Trust me, you would've been distracted,” I smiled an almost sad smile at the thought of him simply being on university grounds and having the time of his life - knowing it was something that he was never going to get the chance to experience in this upside down life of his. Of ours. He tapped his fingers on the table for a second, likely lost in some ludicrous thought I don't think I'd want to be privy to. I attempted another slurp of my milkshake when the paper straw gave out and flopped in half, the need to leave conversation and the diner suddenly looming over me.

“Come on, let's get to the library before it closes,” I stood and pulled my oversized sweater down so it covered my ass before reaching for my backpack. Just as my fingers touched the worn fabric of the strap it was torn away, my head snapping up to Dean who flung it over one shoulder with his signature grin on his face.

“Lead the way nerd.”

I couldn't help but beam at his playfulness. I hated the fact that he made it so easy to adore him. Hated that he completely overlooked how I was his total opposite in almost every way. How when we were talking, his eyes never left mine - how he was genuinely interested in what I was like in the past. And how, when I had his attention, he didn't even notice that the hot waitress had written her number on a napkin and left it next to him.

The trip to the library was about as eventful as it sounded. After checking out multiple books on cursed items, local lore and popular antiques from the seventies, we loaded ourselves back into the impala, made an all-important beer run before heading back to the motel.

The small table by the window was now totally smothered by a blanket of books, maps and empty beer bottles. Deans chin rested in his palms as he stared blankly at the screen in front of him, and I must've read the last sentence of the paragraph laid before me a dozen times without it even sinking in. The obnoxious dripping and humming of ancient appliances was starting to make me feel restless.

“It has to be the boots,” Dean groaned, draining the last of his beer.

“Either the boots or the disco ball. But my money is on boots as well,” I sighed, pushing the book away from me and standing slowly, gathering the quickly accumulating litter now scattered around us.

“I'm gonna make some coffee, my brain is fried over how fucking ridiculous this case is,” I ditched the trash in the bin before filling the coffee machine, listening to it whir to life whilst I headed to my bed. I could feel Deans gaze on my back as I rummaged around my bag in search of a specific item.

“What are you looking fo-” he'd started to ask the question but his voice died in his throat when I turned around. I quickly pushed my newly adorned glasses up the bridge of my nose, already feeling the oversized frame start to slip down as I tried not to make a big deal over them.

“What?” My tone was a fraction off aggressive when I realised he was staring. He seemed to snap out of his daze, quickly rubbing the back of his neck and turning back to the laptop screen. He cleared his throat

“I uh, I didn't know you wore glasses,” I could tell from the slight tremble in his voice that his mind was reeling.

“Is there a problem with that?”

“No! I mean, no, absolutely not. They look good. The glasses, I mean. The glasses look good. Not on their own, obviously. On your face. They look good on your face. You have a great fa-”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set it on the counter, filling it to the brim with caffeinated goodness. I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my lips at Deans fumbling, almost finding the whole ordeal a little charming. I sat back down at the table and pulled the books back towards me, also grabbing my pen and tattered notebook.

“The guests at the club mentioned hearing footsteps - so it has to be the boots, right? A disco ball wouldn't make that sound…” my voice trailed off when I realised that, even though Dean was looking at me, he wasn't listening to a word I was saying.

“Earth to Dean?”

He flinched slightly at his name, but felt no shame delving in with a completely off-topic question.

“So how long have you worn glasses?”

“I’ve always worn them,” I slid back into my chair at the table opposite him, not sure whether to laugh at the shocked expression on his face or whether to be concerned about his observation skills.

“What?! No way, I would’ve noticed,” He opened another beer and took a sip before tracing the opening to the bottle over his bottom lip.

“ I only wear them for concentration work, and I have emergency contact lenses if I know I’m going to be around a lot of people as I don’t particularly like how they look.”

Dean made a small disagreeable expression before averting his gaze from mine back to the laptop, taking another swig of his beer. I placed my coffee mug down and settled back into the book I was reading before, and after a few moments I could feel my skin begin to prickle - as though I could feel a pair of eyes on me. I glanced up, my breath immediately catching in my throat. Deans eyes found mine, burning with an intensity that made my heart hammer in my chest. I didn’t want to look away, but under his gaze I felt like I’d been stripped bare, unable to hide my insecurities from an eye that seemed to scorch through to my very core.

“Dean-”

“(Y/n), you should really have more confidence in yourself; I think the glasses look cute as fuck. You should wear them more,” a fierce blush erupted across my face when he spoke, his assured tone leaving no room for disagreement. I tried desperately not to let on that his words held any sort of impact over my decisions so I looked down, away from his scrutiny and simply said:

“Maybe I will.”

He hummed in approval, finally looking elsewhere and I couldn’t stop myself from breathing a sigh of relief when the pressure of his stare was averted.

The evening dragged on and an hour and a half had passed since his loaded comment. I was on the third book we’d checked out of the library, now trying desperately to find the curse that would cause a pair of 1970s glam rock boots to dance for eternity and haunt anyone who tried to wear them. This case was absurd, and I could feel myself growing restless with the small amount of progress we’d made. I huffed out a sigh and leant back in my chair, the faux leather and rusted metal creaking under my weight. Pulling the hair bobble from around my wrist I scooped my hair into a bundle on the top of my head, securing it in place; the sensation of air on my neck seemed to clear some of the fog from my brain. The messy bun was comfortably enough that I could forget it was there, and I allowed myself a stretch before leaning back over the table, grasping my pen. As I began to read the next segment, I absently traced the end of the pen over my bottom lip, running it back and forth a few times before gently nibbling on the end. I heard the shuffling of Dean moving in his seat and a ragged clearing of his throat before the sound of vigorous laptop keys clicking ensued. Without looking up at him I continued reading, the pen still tapping my bottom lip, and when I neared the bottom of the paragraph, I slowly licked the pad of my index finger. My eyes never leaving the words, I turned the page swiftly with my dampened digit, the transition from one page to the next perfectly seamless. Another shuffle from the man opposite followed by a quiet groan filled the silence between us. Pen still between my teeth, I lifted only my eyes to glance at him and noted the dusting of pink across his cheeks and the furrow in his brow. Concluding that he’d had one too many beers I decided to ignore his persistent fidgeting, returning to my previous task on monotonous reading. Several sentences in and I’d almost forgotten Deans restlessness - that was until I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, deep in thought, that I earned myself a throaty groan and an exasperated sigh. I looked up just in time to watch him wipe a large hand down his face, momentarily masking his pained expression.

“Can you not do that? I can’t concentrate when you do that.”

“Do what?” Upon asking my question I absently took the pen between my teeth again, quickly glancing down at the book to place a mental bookmark.

“That.”

“What?”

“That. That thing you do with our mouth, and the pen, and your tongue and your finger. Can you please stop before it kills me.”

The heat beneath my skin was immediate at his admission, knowing my small, absent-minded actions were playing on his mind and making it hard for him to think straight. I instinctively crossed my legs, a fluttering in my lower belly instantly dragging my mind back to the deprived things I’d imagined Dean doing to me in the depths of night. The places I’d imagined his hands travelling, the areas his lips would touch and the sensations his tongue could create. These were deeply, deeply personal fantasies, and right now as Dean looked at me with a restrained hunger, I felt like I was wearing these fantasies for the world to see. For Dean to see.

“It doesn’t help that you’ve been sat over there like a sexy fucking librarian all evening, but every time you do that anything with that mouth - shit, sweetheart you’re driving me insane.” His voice was gravelly as he looked at me with desperate eyes across the table. The overly rational part of my brain had shut down completely, and now the part of my mind that had spent hours conjuring vivid scenes of Dean Winchester ravishing me in my entirety had taken the charge. I stood slowly, taking a moment to reason with myself - unsuccessfully of course - before sinking to my knees in front of my chair. I could see Deans strong thighs were spread wide beneath the table so I crawled forwards, across the cold tiles and placed myself between his legs. Resting my palms softly on his thighs I made him flinch at the unexpected contact. He immediately scooted his chair back, allowing a gap for me to poke my head through - his hand instantly acting as a barrier between the edge of the table and my skull. I got comfortable and allowed myself a moment to gaze up at him, to take in the strained furrow in his brow and the parting of his lips. I observed the way his chest rose and fell in apprehensive breaths, and the way his free hand clenched into a fist on his thigh - like he was so desperate yet so scared to touch me.

“(Y/n)-”

“Dean,” I spoke softly, slowly running my hands up his thighs - delicate palms against rough denim, “you’re a smart boy - you know I wouldn’t do something I didn’t want to do. So please, don’t say I don’t have to do this.”

Dean released a shaky breath the moment my fingers unclasped his jeans. I tugged them down slightly with his help, just enough so I could dip my hand into his boxers and wrap my fingers around his half-hard length. The moment my skin touched his, his head lolled back and his eyes fluttered closed with a breathy moan on his lips.

“Fuck…”

I gently pulled him from his confines, coming face to face with the cock I’d literally dreamt of again and again. I took the scene in, committing to memory the sharp outline of his jaw and the way his long lashes rested on his lightly-freckled cheeks. The way that, every time he breathed in, I could see his defined muscle tone through the thin fabric of his shirt; and with every small caress that my fingers made against his length, it made his fingers twitch and teeth clench. I licked my lips before leaning in and took his tip into my mouth, not giving him a chance to finish sucking in air through his teeth before I plunged his entire length down my throat.

“Oh FUCK.”

His hands flew to my hair, fingers gripping tight as they loosened strands from the messy bun, causing them to fall around my face. He’d lifted his head to look down at me, pupils blown as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked nothing more than enthralled. Infatuated. Entranced. I moved my head up and down, up and down, again and again to a steady rhythm, pressing my tongue to the underside of his now rock-hard cock to trace every vein and nerve-ending.

“Shit, (Y/n), I didn’t know you could suck cock, like, at all… how’re you s’fuckin’ good…” his voice was breathless as he continued to grip my hair, his head flopping to the side as pleasure started to overcome his senses. I released him with a small ‘pop’, wrapping my fingers around him and smearing the warm mixture of saliva and precum from tip to base.

“Despite everything I told you earlier, Dean, I’m not a virgin - and this certainly isn’t my first rodeo,” my voice came out more sultry than I’d expected and I could feel Dean tremble beneath my palms.

“Fuck, I wish I’d known that sooner,” I chewed on my bottom lip, quickly becoming addicted to the way he writhed at my touch. The way he moaned and gripped my hair tighter when I sucked him back into my mouth was like pure ecstasy, my insides heating up and throbbing with an ache of familiar arousal. Like a thirst that could only be satisfied by him. By tasting him, feeling him on my tongue and drinking in every sound that passed his plush parted lips. The sensation of my glasses slipping down my nose as I sped up my ministrations had me reaching to push them back up, but not before Dean beat me to it. With the rough pad of his thumb he pushed on the plastic bridge, his palm and fingers pressed to my flushed cheek in the most tender, almost heart wrenching caress. I thought my heart might stop when he tilted my face up to his; lustful eyes burning into mine with a vehemence I’d never encountered. I stopped in my tracks, all actions ceased as the spell he’d somehow put me under wouldn’t let me look away.

“If you keep going like that darlin’ this whole thing is gonna be over before you know it,” his voice was raspy, a rawness to it from the harsh breaths and ragged moans that had been pulled from his throat. He slowly pulled his cock from my spit-slick lips and grasped it loosely, giving himself a few lazy pumps whilst his other hand never left my face. He stared down at me, taking a few moments as though he was committing the sight of me, knelt between his knees with flushed cheeks and swollen lips to memory. Once it seemed that memory was locked away in the depths of his mind, he grasped me by the arm and pulled me effortlessly into his lap, his fingers almost bruising against my skin. Immediately I felt him, in his entirety, press against me with the heat and wetness seeping through my jeans and past my panties. This time when our eyes met, there was a mutual desperation; a need to consume each other and to feel every inch of his heated skin against mine. He pulled me frantically down to him and crashed his lips against mine.

Some people describe their first kiss with someone like butterflies in their stomach, or fireworks exploding all around them. That wasn’t at all what this was like. Kissing Dean Winchester was different - it was wild and untamed - and describing this experience in such a mundane way would be like adding water to a top-shelf whiskey. Kissing Dean Winchester was like driving the impala at one thirty with the roar of the engine drowning out the rest of the world. It was like trying to ride a wild mustang without a saddle, or daring to stand on the highest peak on Earth with nothing to tie you down. It was exhilarating in the most dangerous way imaginable - and I was now officially a thrill seeker.

The warm taste of the beer on his tongue and the masculine scent of old leather and cologne was pulling me under. Breathing no longer mattered as long as his mouth was on mine and his fingers were in my hair, now tugging the bobble out and throwing it to the floor. As my hair tumbled free he grabbed under my thighs and stood effortlessly, moving me from his lap to the edge of the table without his lips leaving mine. I winced slightly as the corners and several books and the laptop jabbed into my rear and I fumbled to move everything aside, failing when I refused to unlock our lips. Deans patience was non-existent and with one sweep of his strong arm everything tumbled to the floor - including the laptop. I threw the remaining books from underneath me down to join them, no longer caring for their wellbeing. Before I could pull Dean back in - to allow him to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to me - he hastily pulled off my boots and tugged down my jeans, throwing every item to the growing pile of chaos beside us. I discarded my sweater and top, but before I let his fingers touch my bra I wanted nothing more than to return the favour.

“I guess you can forget about that whole ‘never seeing me shirtless’ thing, huh?” he smirked through the sexual fog, not waiting for a reply as his lips hungrily found mine again, his own top falling to the floor.

“Shut up Winchester. Now are you gonna fuck me or wh- OH FUCK-”

Two thick fingers crept under my panties and plunged into me with zero hesitation, curling up and stroking the sensual cushion deep within my core with skillful precision.

“Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you?” Even with my face now buried in the crook of his neck, I could hear the smirk in his voice, the tormenting tone going straight to my brain.

“Y-yes- fuck- please,” my knees twitched either side of him, squeezing at his hips with every push of his fingers. I gripped his shoulders tight, nails indenting his skin as I leant back to look at him better. Seeing the beads of sweat on his chest and brow alongside the raw, carnal desire in his eyes could have undone me there and then. He frowned in disapproval when I moved to remove my glasses, the fingers that were just inside me now wrapped forcefully around my wrist.

“What d’ya think you’re doing?” straight away I knew his growling question left no room for negotiation.

“I was just-”

“The glasses stay on.”

“To the end?”

“‘Til I say you can take them off.”

I did as I was told, moving my hand to grip the soft strands on the back of his neck, softly dragging my nails over his scalp and drawing a shiver from his spine and a groan from his lungs. He pulled me against him, crushing his lips against mine one more time. He swiftly pulled away and I leant back on my hands, both of us taking a moment to drink each other in - to bask in lascivious glory. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and looked up at him through my lashes, the lenses of my glasses starting to fog around the edges. Another deep moan rumbled from his chest as his heated gaze stayed locked to mine.

“I can’t wait any longer now that you’ve looked at me like that. Fuck.”

With a large hand gripping the soft flesh of my thigh he pulled my underwear to one side and lined himself up, slowly sinking in. Blissful moans harmonised between us, the rawness of him stretching me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced and my quivering thighs wrapped around him, pushing him to the hilt. He secured his large hands on the soft flesh of my hips and held me in place as he slowly withdrew. I could feel him; feel every ridge and vein drag out and then in, out and in, over my most sensitive, intimate, area. The slick sounds of our intimacy began to echo around the room as he picked up speed, strong thighs working at a feverish pace. With every thrust he pushed against that one spot that made my legs jerk and eyes water, my arms almost giving out underneath me as the table rattled beneath my weight. With the ferocity of his pounding and the heightened sensitivity he’d curated between my legs only moments before, we both knew that neither of us would last long. The sounds of his ragged breaths and throaty moans alone had me clenching around him already, and I know my constricting muscles already had his hips stuttering as I sucked him in with every thrust.

“Fuck (Y/n)- You’re so fuckin’ tight-”

I chewed on my bottom lip as his desperate eyes met mine.

“Oh yeah? Well I feel like you’re cock is in my fucking ribcage- oh fuck-”

He slipped one hand between us, his large palm resting on my lower belly as his thumb drew fast circles around my clit. The immediate contact on my bundle of nerves had my whole body quivering, the knot of an impending climax already starting to twist tighter and tighter in the depths of my core. The way that Dean fucked me into the motel room table was something that I would be able to feel deep in my soul for the rest of my life - my body and entire nervous system having never been worked in such a feral way before. Dean dropped forward and crushed my body into his - one large strong arm wrapped around my trembling body and kept me pressed against him as his head dropped to the crook of my neck. Soft lips pressed hot kisses against my shoulder, teeth gently nibbling the soft flesh as the coil wound and wound, the wave of orgasmic bliss rising higher and higher as my mind emptied, leaving behind only one thought.

Dean.

He was all consuming - all I could see, taste and smell. All I could feel. Oh God could I feel him; driving me to the brink of pure bliss as he frantically sped up - desperate to seek his own undoing as well as my own. One… two… three more fervid thrusts and the peak he’d helped me ascend to shattered around me as I practically screamed his name, the white-hot euphoria scorching my insides as I clamped like a vice around him.

“Oh shit- (Y/n) I can’t- fuck-”

I grabbed the back of his head and pushed his mouth to mine as he came undone, spilling inside me as he worked through his own white-hot euphoria.

The kiss we shared evolved from hot and needy to soft and wanting - the sensation of hot cum running down the inside of my thigh and cooling against my skin being the only thing to pull me away. Dean continued to lean over me for a moment, looking down at me with an expression that told me he had so much he wanted to say. Instead, he looked down at his release now starting to pool on the floor beneath us, then to the books and laptop that had been thrown across the floor before turning back to face me with the most devilish grin on his face.

“You know that this mess is all your fault, right?”

I scoffed.

“My fault? How is it my fault?”

“Because, sweetheart…” he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and pushed lightly on the plastic bridge sitting on my nose.

“You put on on those fucking glasses.”

--------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @libby99hb @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #supernatural reader insert #supernatural one shot #dean winchester one shot #dean smut #supernatural smut #smut

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wandaslittlebird · 1 month

Text

Gentle With Mama

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

After waking up next to Wanda for the first time in years, you find yourself rediscovering who taught you to be gentle.

CW: Stepmother/Stepdaughter, wet dreams, MOMMY ISSUES, breastfeeding, size kink, strap ons, first time? (kinda?), flashbacks, dacryphilia, R is a terrible fuck.

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: This one is straight up Freudian filth, but I'm unironically proud of it so be nice to me.

A/N: There will be a third part to this eventually, but don’t hold your breath I’ve got a lot of other WIPs I’m going to try to finish first.

Part 2 of Her Special Girl

Wanda was almost embarrassed of the way her heart sang when she woke up with you in her arms the next morning. You were home! Her baby is finally home!

She hadn’t really even realized how much she’d missed until you’d come back. Sure she thought about you everyday, wondered how you were doing, slept in your bed when she found herself unable to sleep, wore your hoodies around the house, fantasized about you while she…okay so maybe she had missed you more than she cared to admit.

She giggled when she peeled the covers up to find both your thighs and hers covered in cum, as well as the sheets and the blankets. “Aww my sweet girl,” she cooed, pulling your head up under her chin. She kissed the top of your head stroking it gently with her thumb. “Did you have a good dream?” Even in your sleep, she could’ve sworn she felt you nod.

It was tempting to shake you awake now. Maybe she’d even make a little fuss about the mess you’d made, watch your face get all red with embarrassment while you tried to hide under the blankets, covered in your own slick. God you’d be so cute. And she was willing to bet you’d do anything to make it up to her, little doe eyes pleading for forgiveness over something Wanda was not even upset about in the first place. She could have you as putty in her hands all morning.

She shook the thought from her head. As tempting as it was, you’d had a rough week already. She opted instead to grab the discarded towel from last night and use it to clean herself up. Then she pulled back the blankets, smiling when you whined and grabbed around for them in your sleep. “Shh, detka. Keep sleeping. Mama’s gonna get you all cleaned up.”

She gently wiped you down with the towel, shushing your whines as the cool fabric hit the warm skin of your thighs. You moaned when the fabric hit your core, stuttering your little hips against the fluffy towel. Wanda chuckled. “Settle down, honey. You're gonna get yourself all worked up again.”

When she finished with the towel, she pulled a sheet from the closet. She climbed onto the bed between your legs, lifting you off the bed while she scooted the clean sheet underneath you. She heard a sleepy little whimper in her ear as she lifted you up against her chest. “Mama?”

She laid you back down against the clean sheet, pulling up the duvet to tuck you back in. “Shh, it’s okay little love. Go back to sleep.” She wiped the hair off of your sleepy face, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

She wadded up the wet blanket, throwing it into a pile with the towel. You groaned. The extra blanket was definitely missed without any clothes on in the middle of winter. Your face reddened as you started to realize she was cleaning up a mess. Probably your mess.

“Did I wet myself last night?” You asked, sitting up in bed as panic started to build in your chest. Did you seriously just wet the bed at 22 years old? Did you seriously just wet your parents bed at 22 years old?

She sat down next to you pulling you in to kiss your head. So much for not embarrassing you. “You made a little bit of a mess, but it’s okay. Mama took care of it. It wasn’t a potty mess, if that’s what you're worried about. My sweet girl just had a really good dream is all. You don’t need to be embarrassed, honey.”

“O-okay,” you nodded, still blushing fiercely as you curl into her. You were unsure if it was more or less embarrassing that you’d cum in sleep rather than having pissed the bed. Still, you were able to relax into her, recalling bits of the dream that had caused the mess in the first place. “Mama?”

“Yes, little love?”

“It’s not a bad thing to have naughty dreams, is it? Cause, like, you’re asleep and you can’t control it.” You couldn’t look her in the eyes as you spoke.

Wanda chuckled and kissed the top of your head. She knew your shame well and never wished to perpetuate it anyway. “No sweetheart. It’s not a bad thing.”

You nodded shyly. “Not even if they’re about mama?”

Wanda smiled, pleasantly surprised by your admission. “Especially not if they’re about mama, honey.” She squeezed you tight, pressing a long kiss to your forehead. She bent and whispered in your ear. “Sometimes mama has naughty dreams about you too.”

You smiled up at her, kissing her jaw before kissing your way further down her body. You rubbed your hands over the soft expanse of her stomach, admiring each curve and dip with endless wonder, caressing her with gentle hands. You traced the stretch marks that littered her side, curving upwards from her underbelly and her hips.

She’d always loathed this part of herself. She never, for a second, regretted her boys, but she could not deny the havoc having twins wrecked on her body. Two babies meant she grew bigger all at once, leaving her skin stretched grotesquely. She hated when people brought any attention to at all.

Yet, when she looked down at your face, she could not bring herself to ask you to stop. You look at her with a wonder she’d never experienced before. The innocent look in your eyes was not one of someone trying to console her about her broken body, but one of pure worship. It had never even crossed your mind that such attributes could be considered ugly. To you, she was nothing short of pure perfection.

You kissed her just below her navel, nuzzling your nose in the space above it. You hummed contentedly, resting your head on her stomach, rubbing small circles on her lower abdomen.

But after a while, your face fell from one of contentment and joy, to one of an almost sad longing.

Wanda noticed the shift immediately. “Is everything alright, love?”

You paused, unsure of what to say without making it weird. You could barely speak above a whisper. “It’s not fair.”

Wanda tried to pull you up her body so she could hear you better and give you comforting kisses, but you were cemented in place. “What’s not fair, detka?”

“I didn’t get to grow inside of you. I had to grow inside of some rotten woman who doesn’t even love me anyway!” Frustrated tears pricked your eyes. Nothing was fair. Your hands continued to gently caress the womb you envied. “I hate her! She was never my mama!”

Wanda sighed, playing with your hair. She held an equal amount of hatred for your mother, if not more. Her lack of dedication and responsibility towards you had always been equal parts confusing and infuriating. “I’m sorry, detka. I’m sorry she doesn’t treat you like the special, important little girl you are. You deserve so much better than her. She doesn’t deserve to call herself your mother.” Wanda pulled you up her body again, this time dragging you up by force. She needed you closer.

You conceded allowing her to slide you up the bed and tuck your head under her chin. She gently petted your hair and rocked you against her, shushing your cries and wiping away your tears. “Why doesn’t she love me?”

Wanda felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. She wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t understand how any mother could treat their child so carelessly, least of all when that child was as brilliant and wonderful as you were. “Because she’s only ever looking out for herself. Because she’s so blinded by her own misery to see what a beautiful thing she has created.”

Your hand gently caressed her chest, feeling her nipples harden under your fingertips. She shivered under your touch, watching you as you looked longingly at her chest.

She recalled a random conversation she’d once had with your mother in which she had said she didn’t breastfeed any of her children because it was quote “not her responsibility to get up in the middle of night when the baby got hungry.”

God I would’ve been so much better at being your mother. I would’ve stayed up all night just to watch your sweet little face as you nursed.

She smiled sadly. She couldn’t turn back the clock, but she had you here with her now. She couldn’t change what you did and didn’t have then, but she could give it to you now.

“Come here, sweet girl. You can suck on mama. It’s okay. You don’t have to be embarrassed.” She manually parted your hesitant lips with her thumb, allowing you to take her into your mouth. “That’s it sweet girl,” she cooed, stroking her hands through your hair. She ran her knuckle over your soft cheek, still covered in fine baby fuzz. Your lips were soft and warm around her. She thought she’d never get tired of the sight or the sensation.

For a moment, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. Despite never actually having been breastfed, your body knew instinctively what to do. It’s like it had been waiting all along, for Wanda to come around. You sucked at her with effortless rhythm, perfectly massing her nipple with your tongue. But then, a new sadness and longing creeped into your mind. There was no milk here. There was no milk here for you, and there never was because she was never truly yours.

You pulled away, shrinking back down her body. You clutched at her waist, nuzzling into her so hard it was like you were trying to crawl under her skin. You wanted to be inside of her where you'd be safe and warm and comfortable. You needed to be inside of her. It felt like the only thing that could quell the aching in your heart.

“Mama?”

“Yes, little love?”

“Can I…?” You pressed on her lower abdomen in indication. “Please?”

She looked down at you, your big soft eyes pleading with her. How could she ever deny you anything? “Aww sweetheart, do you wanna be inside mama?”

You nodded eagerly, still clinging to her lower half.

She stroked your temple with her knuckle. “Alright, honey. You can be inside mama. You just have to be gentle. Can you do that? Do you remember how mama taught you to be gentle?”

You laid with your head pressed to her stomach, recalling what it meant to be gentle.

—————

“I’m scared, mama,” you said, voice shaking slightly. You were 18 again, a newly deflowered girl who was yet to explore anything beyond a few fingers. The two of you’d been talking about this for a couple weeks now, and you were sure you wanted to try it, but you were still so nervous. “Is it gonna hurt?”

Wanda gently slid a soft towel under your butt. She warned you that you might bleed a little tiny bit, since it was your first time. “It might. But it will only hurt for a little bit, I promise. And then you’re going to feel so so good, baby. I just know you’re gonna love it.”

Wanda knew what she was getting herself into here. She knew the moment she was inside of you, you were going to be hooked on the feeling. She had no doubt you’d be begging for her strap every single time you were alone together.

And god she could nearly cum from the thought alone.

You, sitting at her feet while she worked, begging to be fucked just one more time. You, falling apart as she buried herself inside of you. You, incoherently mumbling her name while you cried on her big toy.

Deep breaths. She had to pace herself. This was only your first time after all.

“Mama’s gonna be so gentle, okay? And if you don’t like it, we can stop and you don’t have to try it again,” she cooed.

You nodded. Poor thing, you looked like you were already about to cry and she hadn’t even touched you yet.

“It’s okay to cry, sweetheart,” she insisted, more for her own purposes than for your comfort. She stroked your cheek gently, watching the first of many tears roll down. “It’s okay. Mama’s got you. Take a deep breath for me honey.”

You nodded again, closing your eyes to take a deep breath. “I trust you, mama.”

“I know, love. Mama’s gonna take good care of you.” She opened a little bottle on the side table. “Now this is gonna be a little cold, okay?” She said before pouring a little bit of lube down your folds. She slowly massaged it inside of you with her fingers, shushing your little squeaks of discomfort as the cool liquid hit your most sensitive parts. Then she massaged a generous amount onto the shaft of her toy.

She could have, admittedly, gone a bit smaller for your first time. But, as much as she didn’t want to hurt you, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to watch you squirm on a bigger toy. It wasn’t anything outrageous, of course, but it was still a generous 8 inches and probably twice as thick as the three fingers you’d had inside of you before.

She slid the tip of the toy through your center, wiggling it against your clit. You shivered at the new sensation, your nerves still growing inside of you. She lined the toy up with your entrance. “Okay, baby. Take a big deep breath for me.”

You did as instructed, taking in a long shaky inhale, and exhaling. On the exhale though, she pushed the first inches of the toy inside of you. You cried out, flailing around underneath her as she pushed into slowly. Your hands shot down between your legs, pushing against her lower abdomen to keep her from pushing in any further. “Mama please, please mama it hurts.”

She took your hand from her stomach, gently placing it over your head. She intertwined her fingers with yours, allowing you to squeeze her hand as much as you needed. “Shh baby, it’ll only hurt for a second. I promise it’ll feel good in a minute. Just trust me love.”

You bit your lip hard, but nodded your head, allowing her to keep going. You whimpered and cried with each cruel inch that made its way into you, but eventually she stopped.

“That’s it baby. It’s all the way in. Aww, sweet girl mama’s so so proud of you. I know it hurts baby but you’re doing so good,” she praised, kissing away your tears and softly caressing your face. Her body was flushed with yours. You squeezed her hand, trying to relieve some of the pain.

She whispered soft words of comfort and soothed you while your face slowly shifted from contorted in pain, to mindless with pleasure. She used her free hand to wipe your hair from your forehead. “There you go sweet girl. Does it still hurt?”

You shook your head. “N-no. I just feel… you.”

She kissed your forehead gently. “I’m going to start moving now, okay? Just tell me if it hurts again and I’ll stop.”

You nodded, wrapping your free arm around her back, clinging to her. Your other hand still squeezed hers.

She started slow, just as she promised she would. It stung, a little, but more than anything, you just felt full of her. It felt heavenly. You weren’t sure how you’d live your entire life without it. You wanted her buried inside you forever. Anything less, you thought, would be unsatisfactory. You’d felt heaven, and now you’d never be satisfied on Earth.

Almost unintentionally, you scratched her back, leaving red tracks down her spine. She gasped and thrust into you. You cried out, freeing your other hand from her grip and wrapping it around her back, now clinging to her with both arms.

“I’m sorry baby,” she whispered, kissing your temple in apology.

“It’s okay, mama,” you mumbled, face buried in her shoulder. “Please don’t stop. Please don’t leave me.” You wrapped your legs around her waist, holding her inside of you.

Wanda knew in that moment, she had you hooked. She rocked into you faster, your old bed creaking with her movements. You whined and whimpered with each thrust, but matched her hips with your own. You were so desperate for her, so desperate for her to make you hers.

“I-I love you. Mama I love you. Please don’t stop. Please mama never… I want you inside of me forever. Please, you feel so good,” you rambled breathlessly, clawing into her back. You hadn’t stopped crying through the whole ordeal. You were unsure when the crying had turned from pain to pleasure.

She breathed heavily in your ear, your desperate clinging forcing her to double her efforts. She was only spurred on by your scratching. Each jolt of pain sent her hammering into you harder than before. “You’re doing so good, baby. Mama’s close, honey. Oh love, just like that. You’re gonna make mama cum.”

You felt her hips stutter as she came, finally collapsing breathlessly on top of you. She laid there for a few moments before reaching down between your legs to pull the toy out.

“No! Mama please don’t take it out yet. Please just a little longer. Just for a little bit while we cuddle,” you pleaded.

Wanda laughed breathlessly. “Okay, sweet girl. We can leave it there for another minute longer. But then you have to sit up and drink some water.”

She laid on your chest, letting you play with her hair. You ran a gentle hand over the long red lines that covered her back, occasionally hitting a spot that would make her wince.

“Oh! Careful detka. You gotta be gentle with mama,” she said.

You bent down and kissed her back, brushing your hands over the scratches more lightly this time. “Gentle with mama,” you repeated, coddling her body until she fell asleep inside of you.

—————

You nodded. Gentle. You remembered gentle.

“Okay, detka,” she chuckled. “I’ll go get it.”

She hopped up off the bed, heading into your bedroom. She kept the secret toys in the top of your old closet with the remainder of your clothes, a place she knew your father would never look. She pulled down an old duffle bag that had remained almost entirely untouched since you left.

She returned with a large scarlet strap, your favorite, already secured to a harness. You excitedly clambered off the bed, allowing her to help you buckle it around your waist.

You were tempted to pull her into a bruising kiss right there, back her up until her knees hit the bed, and push yourself inside of her until you both forgot where you ended and she began.

But you promised to be gentle. So you would be gentle.

You waited for her to crawl up on the bed before crawling up behind her and kneeling between her legs. She reached back to grab a bottle of lube from the drawer at the side table, reaching down to rub a generous amount onto the strap.

She smirked when you whined, bucking and twitching against her hand like you could actually feel her movements. With how reactive you were, she was sometimes genuinely convinced you could.

“Already, honey. Nice and slow for mama,” she instructed, allowing you to start slowly pressing yourself into her.

You did as instructed, lining yourself with her entrance and watching in fascination as her body took more and more of you inside of it. Your eyes went wide and you watched a small bulge form at the base of her abdomen. In a moment of excitement, you pushed yourself all the way inside of her, bottoming out unexpectedly.

“Fuck!” She shouted, hands immediately pushing your hips back.

“Sorry sorry sorry!” You apologized frantically. You hadn’t meant to hurt her, you’d just gotten excited. Your hand ran gently over her abdomen, instinctively trying to soothe the pain you’d caused.

“It’s okay baby. Just nice and gentle for mama. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded eagerly. Slow and gentle. You could be slow and gentle. Just like she taught you.

You tried again, this time succeeding at a slower pace. You reached down to touch the bulge in her stomach. Your heart raced with excitement. That’s me! That’s me inside of mama!

You started to slowly rock your hips back and forth, whimpering as you watched the bump in her stomach slowly move. “Mama…”

Wanda had her head tossed back over the pillows, head spinning with the sensation of being so incredibly full. “That’s it, baby. That’s my sweet girl, being all nice and gentle for mama,” she moaned. “You can start moving, sweetheart.”

You moved slowly at first, clearly very nervous to accidentally hurt her again. But after watching the rhythmic movement of the bulge in her stomach for a few minutes, your thrust became more erratic. You rutted into her with absolutely no rhythm, your own head spinning with too much excitement to care.

Words like “slow” and “gentle” were forgotten to the wet sound of her cunt swallowing you. You panted pathetically, whimpering as thoughtlessly chased your own pleasure.

Two hands fell on your hips, stilling them and forcing you out of her. “Okay, honey,” she chuckled, amused by your lust blown eyes pleading with her to let you keep going. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay.”

She grabbed you and flipped you over, pinning you underneath her. She straddled your waist. “Now just be a good girl and lay down for me just like that. Mama’s gonna have her turn now okay?”

You nodded eagerly, propping your head up with pillows so you could look at her.

She lined the toy back up with her own entrance, slowly lowering herself down onto it. Your eyes went wide at the sight of the beautiful woman, in complete ecstasy as she took your toy down to the last inch. She threw her head back, moaning with unrestrained pleasure.

Your hands clambered up her body, desperate to grab a hold of anything at all. She took one of your hands in hers, flattening it out and placing it against her lower abdomen as she rode you. “You feel that baby? That’s you, honey!”

You nodded dumbly. “Inside mama.”

“That’s right, detka. You’re inside your mama,” she cooed. “Oh fuck, you feel so good baby. Do you like being inside mama, sweet girl. Do you like feeling your big toy moving inside of her?”

“Mhm,” you groaned, biting your lip. “You feel so good. It’s so tight and warm. You’re so beautiful mama. So so beautiful.”

She smiled. “Thank you, baby,” she said, squeezing your hand. “Fuck your making your mama feel so good.” Her voice cracked and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

You sniffled, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You could hardly take it, watching her face contorted in pleasure while you felt yourself moving inside of her. It was all too much.

“Aww, sweet girl,” she cooed. “Come here, honey.” She pulled you up by the arm so you were sitting up, flush against her. She ran her fingers through your hair. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. You feel so good buried inside of mama, right where you’re supposed to be, huh?”

You nodded against her chest, arms wrapping tight around her waist. “Uh huh.” Your nails clawed at her back in a desperate attempt to pull her closer.

She groaned at the feeling of you, slicing at her skin. “That’s it, detka. Hold onto mama, baby. I’ve got you. No need to scratch, honey. I’m not going anywhere.”

She continued to ride you while you cried into her chest. “Mama… I love you! I love you, mama! Please mama! I love you so much.”

“I love you too, darling,” she moaned. “Do you wanna make mama cum, sweet girl? Do you wanna feel mama cum around you?” She lead your hand between her legs, guiding you to play with her clit.

You nodded frantically into her chest, circling your fingers around her swollen bud. “I wanna make you cum. Please. Please cum for me, mama.”

Before you could even finish your sentence, she was crying out, pulsing around the toy. She quickly swatted your hand away, instantly overstimulated by the intensity of her orgasm.

You caught her as she nearly fell backwards. The toy popped out of her and bounced against her stomach. You eased her down against the bed, stuffing a pillow up under her head. You wrapped your arms around her torso, cradling her head in one hand. You pressed a long kiss to her forehead. “I got you, mama.”

You got up, making quick work of removing the harness before crawling back into bed with Wanda, who lay completely breathless. You managed to turn her around, laying her gently against the headboard so you could press a cold glass of water to her lips.

She smiled, taking the water from you and happily gulping it down. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

You smiled back at her and kissed her temple, grabbing your pajama shirt and using it to very gently clean her up. She winced when you touched between her legs, still terribly sensitive from her orgasm.

You grabbed her hand, intertwining her fingers with your own. “It’s okay, mama. I’ll be gentle.”

She smiled down at you, beaming with pride. “You really do remember how to be gentle with mama.”

You grinned. “I learned from the best.”

You tossed the dirty shirt towards the hamper, just barely missing and landing on the towel and blanket from earlier. Wanda chuckled, pulling your body against her own. She guided your head down to her chest, encouraging you to take her nipple into your mouth. “Do you wanna try again, little love?”

You nodded, wrapping your lips around her, suckling peacefully. This time, it didn’t matter that there was no milk there for you. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t grown inside of her, or that she wasn’t the first person to ever hold you. She was holding you now.

She was still your mama, and you were still her baby. Everything else was white noise.

Taglist: @wandasdove @themilfsland @moonxytcn @jordy-12 @the-lakes89 @boredandneedfanfics @bwe-esfr @wandasslut3000 @kaymariesworld @wandasfreak @lesbiansweet

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #mommy wanda #mommy!wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #stepmom wanda #stepmom!wanda #mama Wanda

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sweetnans · 3 months

Text

"You know, for the past few days, I expected to see you sooner than later but It never came to my mind seeing you sitting here in the couch of my vacation home wearing flip flops and swimsuit briefs"

Katsuki was no fool when it came to you.

"What are you doing?" He asked, leaning with his arms into his knees.

"Washing my clothes?" You were dumbfounded by his question when he was watching you closely.

"Uh-uh no, you know what I mean"

You rolled your eyes. There wasn't really a way out of this. Bakugo had known you since you were little toddlers running in the mud and getting bruises and scratches, he knew you like the palm of his hands.

"Fine" You sat in front of him and played with your naked fingers. Yeah, you took off your engagement ring after you ran off your own wedding.

"I'm fucking listening, brat"

A man of patience.

"I didn't want to get married in the first place" you blurted out lifting a heavy weight of your chest. "I solely started to hate him in the process and I thought, hey, that's not cool"

"You sound exactly like Kirishima, disgusting" he rolled his eyes but you knew what he was doing, trying to make everything more bearable for you with his twisted and weird humor.

"I just, I love him really but it's not the quite of love when you see a person and feel all these explosions and you feel that you might be torn apart because of them, breaking down in a meltdown of hearts and flowers and-and confetti" you stuttered. "I know it's lame but, I really think that's what love should feel"

Oh, you just hit the nail. Poor him, he came all the way from Musutafu to Okuto Island to be there for his best friend but instead, he was there watching you describe all his feelings for you.

"Well if you don't feel like that when it comes to that bastard then that's it. You can force it" he shrugged.

Let's face it. He was happy to see you so chill about you splitting something that almost lasted what? four years? but, he was also happy that you didn't get married.

When you told him the news, he felt torn, but he shook the feeling right away to be by your side. When you didn't show up at the church, he couldn't help but feel the happiness rising up in his body.

It wasn't so hard to find you. The first thing that he did was use the spare key you gave him of your apartment and went through your stuff. It was classic you, always leaving tracing marks wherever you go. He found your apartment neat, so he thought that probably the fact that you ran off was something premeditated.

He found the receipts of your plane tickets when he snoop through your mail, and it clicked. He needed to see you.

"I guess you're right." You sighed and clapped your hands in your knees. You stood up to move closer to him and sit by his side. "Anyway, thanks for coming all the way here"

"Of course," he said and felt bold enough to add. "You've always been my girl, and I'll back you up any day of the week, no question asked"

"I'll pack my things so we can go back." You wiggled your toes and caught him staring at your weirdness, you let a laugh.

"Hah? Nah, that won't do. They won't give me back the days I asked to get here, " he said nonchalantly.

"Days? You mean-what? Bakugo Katsuki, are you telling me that you are willingly taking your days off? For me??" You laughed at him, but in a good way, he smirked at you, kicking your feet like a little child.

"Yeah yeah shithead, whatever, let's enjoy this little shack you got." he pressed his big ass hand in your mouth to keep your laughs quiet.

"There's only one bed, tho." You quirked a brow at him, but he just shrugged you off.

"Tch, like we never had shared a bed before," he rolled his eyes. "Now come on, I want to get in the fucking ocean and hopefully get bit by a shark so I can howitzer it to the moon"

"You're joking right now, Have you ever heard of meditation?" you stumbled through his giant feet, and he pushed you. You completely lost your balance but miraculously stayed still. "Oh fuck off you psycho"

"Ha-ha, you think you're funny, don't you?" He followed you, grabbing his suitcase to leave it in your room while you stretched yourself to get the towels.

"I am fucking funny you asshole" you poked your tongue out and threw the towels at his face.

The beach was just perfect. The sun glistening in your face, leaving you with sunkisses marks that would last for a few months, giving you the ideal tan that everyone in your agency will envy. Bakugo was at your side, skin dried after he made a run towards the ocean, trying to catch a fight with any animal or kid that would get on his way. He was resting with a magazine on his face because the sun hurt his eyes.

You took a peek at him, and the memories flooded in your brain. The first time his mom introduced you to play with the only kid that was alone. You remembered thinking how that was possible, well, after he tackled you and put your face in the ground, you knew. After that, and because you punched him in the gut, you were inseparable. You remembered you two walking to school in the morning and then studying together in your house in the afternoon. You remembered when you two got in UA and how excited he was even though he didn't demonstrate it. You remembered graduating by his side and the hangover after you went partying with your shared friends, how he took care of your drunk ass, even though he was drunk too. The nostalgia invaded you, but it felt like it was more than just that.

"You know, I know we don't say this very often," you said while taking off the magazine of his face to make him look at you, "but I love you, Katsuki."

He pretended to gag. He felt things on the pit of his stomach, and it only made it worse the fact that you, for the first time, didn't add the "as a friend" part.

"You are making me sick," he murmured, putting the magazine all over his face again to hide the redness in his cheeks.

"Say it back, you bastard," you screamed at him, tickling his ribs, which was still his weak point.

The gremlin spatted your hand away and then took both of your hands in one of his, locking them behind his head in the sand. The sudden movement made you squeak and land on his perfect and toned abs.

"You damn bastard, let me go!" You tried to release your hands from his grip, but it was useless. "At least tell me you love me too"

He loved you more than anything.

"Over my dead body." he closed his eyes and ignored you, completely zoning off your attempts to get your hands back and to avoid being laid on top of him.

"You're going to pay"

"I wanna see you try," he mocked you pinching your hips.

The thought of having other feelings for your best friend scared the shit out of you, but you knew, deep down, that maybe after seeing him caring so deeply for you, maybe just maybe, the feeling was something mutual.

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