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sundrop-writes · 3 months ago

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BRAINWASHED

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Everything’s clean - except for my thoughts. (Thinking about me getting you off.)

Can’t stop thinking you got me B R A I N W A S H E D .

Summary:

Stiles likes you. He really, really, really likes you. It's bordering on obsession, but he likes to believe that he has it under control.

So when you accidentally leave a pair of your panties in his presence, ripe for the taking, and they're in his backpack faster than he can blink - he realizes that he might not have it as under control as he would like to think. But he can't find it to be too much of a problem when he has those panties wrapped around his cock.

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Pining!Stiles/One Sided Fantasies. Panty Stealing. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 8,000

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as having a vagina; Stiles and the reader have been best friends since childhood and they are in high school now (they are both the same age) (for argument's sake, they are both 18, but the horny parts were motivated by the hotness of a 20-something actor so idc what age you interpret the characters as); the reader's looks are mostly undescribed and left neutral in terms of race, hair texture/colour, height, etc. however the reader is implied to be fat/plus sized; mentions of the reader wearing dresses and tights (things that the other characters on the show would typically wear); mentions of the reader having a cat - I did not give the cat a name so you can imagine it's the same as your cat's name/what you would want your cat to be called if you had one; use of Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); brief mention that the reader would like wearing bikinis; the reader calls Stiles 'good boy' in non-sexual contexts and it turns him on; mentions of Stiles looking up the reader's skirt when she doesn't know it; some slight dubious consent because Stiles steals the reader's underwear without her consent and uses them in a sexual act (his masturbation); masturbation (Stiles touching himself); this is a one-sided/pining fic - all the sexual acts take place inside Stiles's mind as sexual fantasies while he masturbates; the reader character is described in these sexual acts as they play out in his mind, so that's why she is included heavily in the warnings; Stiles is submissive (even in his own fantasies) and he fantasies about the reader being dominant toward him; Stiles becoming aroused by the idea of the reader not shaving her pussy; technically there is edging - because Stiles edges himself to make his fantasies last longer; panty sniffing (though the panties Stiles took are freshly launder and not used ones); scent kink/sweat kink - Stiles likes the way you smell, including your sweat; kinks and sexual acts mentioned only in Stiles's fantasies (taking place only in his mind in this fic): car sex (in the back of the Jeep (typical, I know)), fingering (reader receiving), degradation kink (Stiles receiving - he likes the idea of the reader insulting him and being mean to him); pussy eating (Stiles fantasizes in depth about this); Reader makes a joke about spanking Stiles and Stiles has a small fantasy about being spanked by her; I think that's finally it.

A/N: Title for the fic comes from the song Brainwashed by Waterparks. Warning - Stiles might be a bit OOC in this because I wrote it before I started re-watching Teen Wolf again (and before I started watching Season 1 for the first time, because previously I had only seen 3B and beyond). In this, I have said that he's flunking classes and he's not really great with studying, while in the show, he's really smart and bookish and really well studied - but it could just be chalked up to the fact that he has a huge crush on the Reader that is distracting him from studying. So, interpret it how you want. I hope that you enjoy it, and please read through to my end notes to find out about a potential sequel to the fic!!

...

Stiles was hopeless.

That was the only way to describe his current state of being. Completely, utterly hopeless.

He was a complete and total loser, hopelessly in love with his best friend. And he was getting more stupidly caught up in that crush every single day. And of course, he didn’t even have the courage to admit his feelings for you so that it could be awkwardly out in the open. So that the two of you could get the rejection part over with, at least.

Basically - his feelings for you were slowly ruining his life.

Stiles had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Well, maybe not that long.

See, you, him, and Scott had all been friends since the beginning of kindergarten, and naturally, Stiles always liked you as a person. He always thought of you as a good friend, even if he gravitated toward Scott more.

But he distinctly remembered the first moment when he had started to develop a crush on you. It was a very special memory to him - the day when you shifted in his eyes from annoying, slightly nagging friend to a beautiful, fierce woman.

It was the day when the three of you were out on Halloween night during the third grade - and that was around the time people started whispering about crushes in school, when people would have playground girlfriends and boyfriends that they broke up with every other week. That night, a group of eighth grade bullies began chasing the three of you, trying to take your candy.

Without hesitation, you picked up the largest rock in sight and threw it at one of them, causing a large cut across his forehead - and you loudly told them to ‘fuck off’ (the first time Stiles had ever heard such a word when it wasn’t coming from his dad). They had run away, somehow terrified of a girl a foot shorter than them.

That night, you had become his hero.

And since then, you had been the only object of his affections.

Of course, over the years, Stiles had plenty of opportunities to tell you about his feelings for you. He just… always felt too cowardly to do so.

In seventh grade, he had come very close to asking you out to the winter dance - only to have Scott beat him to the punch. When he pulled Scott aside to ask him about it, Scott confessed to him that he also had a crush on you. This resulted in their first ever fistfight. The first ever true rift in their otherwise close, brotherly friendship.

The boys didn’t speak to each other for days. Which, naturally, annoyed the hell out of you. Especially because, of course, neither of them told you why they were fighting, not wanting you to know that you were the source of the rift in their friendship. And to you, this only made the fight seem more stupid and immature.

So finally, when you demanded it, they called a truce. They agreed that they didn’t want to lose their friendship or lose you. They didn’t want to make you choose between them when it wouldn’t make any of you happy.

So Stiles proposed that the three of you should go to the dance as friends, which you loved, and they both got you a corsage, one for each wrist - and the three of you still laughed at the pictures of you holding each of their arms.

Eventually, Scott grew out of his crush on you and moved onto other girls, and he loved that he got to keep you as a close best friend, someone he could go to for dating advice if needed. Scott kept trying to convince Stiles to simply ‘man up’ and tell you about his feelings, but Stiles kept that same sentiment they had concluded upon years ago. Telling you about his feelings would only ruin the friendship. Not just between you, but between the entire group - it would fuck up the pack.

Though it felt like the more he tried to ignore his feelings for you, the more they festered like a tumor. While Scott was able to mature past his crush on you, Stiles only grew more intense, and more insane when it came to his ‘crush’ on you.

Over the years, his crush on you had grown from something sweet and childish into something much more. When puberty truly took over and lust was added into the mix, he now had to deal with the fact that you had grown into a gorgeous woman. He could barely control his arousal when looking at you, hearing your voice, smelling you, talking to you, thinking about you - even simply being in your presence made something in his mind melt. And it was growing much worse with each passing day. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t wake up with a raging boner fueled by sexual dreams of you.

And naturally, he would say that not telling you about his feelings for you was ultimately the best thing for him. He would steadfastly refuse to admit that him being distracted by all these fantasies of you was slowly eroding your friendship from the inside out. Slowly, bit by bit, his worst fears were coming true - your friendship was being ruined by his crush anyway.

But he tried to ignore that. Even if you were the most gorgeous, perfect being ever put on the planet, he tried his hardest to simply enjoy the platonic version of you. He tried to act like he wasn’t stupidly, head over heels in love with you.

He tried not to act like it.

But on nights like this, it was just so hard.

Tonight, the two of you were studying for an upcoming English mid-term that would be worth a decent portion of your final grade.

Logically, Stiles knew that he should have locked himself in his room and forced himself to study independently. Or he should have taken up Scott on his offer to study with him and Allison.

But no, he just had to ask you for your ‘help’.

And you pitied him and said yes, because he was doing poorly in the class. The only reason for that being because it was one of the classes that he shared with you, and he spent all of his damn time staring at you across the room during it. He had tried to tell himself that he really would study tonight, that he would really take advantage of your intelligence here and now to get his shit together in order to up his grade.

But no. That was just one of many daily lies that he told himself. Since the moment he had set foot in your bedroom that afternoon (and it was dark out now, well into the evening) - he hadn’t been able to focus on anything but you.

Sure, sometimes that worked to his benefit. Hearing you recite Shakespeare, the words coming off your sweet lips - it did force him to focus on the material at hand for at least a short period of time. But it wasn’t like he was actually retaining any of it. He was just thinking about how gorgeous your voice sounded and how amazing you would be in an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. One where he played Romeo, of course - and he would get to use someone else’s well-crafted words to romance you, finally getting to kiss you for the first time.

Again - he was hopeless.

Currently, Stiles was laying diagonally on your bed, sitting among a mess of books - the English textbooks, the assigned novels, the published copies of the play, along with binders of your notes and other notebooks, stray papers. He couldn’t pay attention to the notes he was supposed to be writing, not for a moment, not if his life depended on it. Not when you looked this stunningly beautiful while busy writing your own notes.

With the soft lighting from your bedside lamp brushing across your skin, making that skin look even softer, you were a goddess-like vision sitting on the bed across from him. You were wearing the simple dress that you had worn to school earlier that day, your modest tights since shed off in the name of ‘comfort’ (and so that your cat wouldn’t rip holes in them while crawling across your lap, you had remarked to Stiles). When you had stood at your hamper and peeled them off your legs, Stiles had a hard time not letting the drool spill out across his chin.

Your thighs were gorgeous. Thick, wide, spread out like a buffet for his eyes to feast on every single time you sat down. From his angle, laying down the way he was, he was up close and personal with the dimpling cellulite and stretchmarks you had there. The hem of your dress had ridden up when you had adjusted your position to get comfortable, and he felt absolutely spoiled by how much more of your thighs were revealed to him.

A few times throughout the evening, he had to physically clench his fingers, tight, to remind himself not to reach out and touch. To remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to touch. The last thing he wanted to do was to creep you out by randomly reaching out and touching your thigh. But he wanted so badly to touch.

How many times had he imagined what those thighs would look like bouncing and jiggling while you rode his cock? How many times had he imagined those thighs clamped around his head while he licked your pussy? (Far too many times for the good of his own sanity.)

Not to mention the concentration spread across your face - you were so fucking hot when you showed off your intelligence. Hell everything about you was hot - your sweetness, your laughter, your sarcasm, even your bitchy side. But your bookish side had to be one of Stiles’s favorites.

The way you would nibble your own lip when thinking, the way your brows furrowed slightly in thought. Everything about you - from the bra strap sticking out of the neckline of your dress to the chipped edge of your nail polish where you had chewed on it - you were a fucking vision. And Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off you, no matter how hard he tried.

It was a wonder that you didn’t notice Stiles staring at you - not as often as he did it.

Stiles felt strangely caught when you put down your pen and looked up from your notebook, then. He quickly scrambled to grab his own pencil and start writing something, to look busy. But of course, he just looked like more of an idiot when the eraser end began scraping across the page in nonsense patterns.

“Stiles,” You scolded him with a sigh, a way he was used to hearing his name come off your lips. “Have you gotten anything done? I told you to copy down at least half my notes-”

Of course. You pegged his blank page as simple laziness, rather than his brain slowly melting out through his ears due to his inability to think about anything but you (especially when he was in the same room as you). At least he hadn’t been caught staring at you in that creepy way yet.

You snatched up his notebook to check his work, and his heart dropped - if you looked too carefully, then he would be caught. In the back of that notebook, there were about three pages of his name and yours in hearts, and a few times he had practiced writing his signature as ‘Mr Stiles L/N’. (He was a feminist, and he liked the idea of starting a new tradition.) There was even a drawing he had made designing your theoretical wedding cake, including a cake topper where he was Superman and you were riding on his back while he was flying.

“Y/N, uh-”

He quickly snatched the notebook back, causing a glare from you while he sighed in defeat.

“Fine.” He shrugged, knowing that he had to admit to a smaller crime in order to cover up the larger one. It was something that he did with his father all too often. “I didn’t get anything done. I was slacking off. You caught me.”

“Stiles!” You scolded him again, reaching out to gently smack his shoulder. “If you keep this shit up, you’re never gonna graduate!”

Sadly, you were probably right. His crush on you was absolutely going to ruin him.

“Well, you could just let me copy off you,” He replied, giving you a wide grin that let you know he was mostly kidding.

You rolled your eyes in reply, and soon your gaze caught sight of the clock on your nightstand.

“Well, it seems like you have wasted enough of my time for tonight.” You scoffed sarcastically.

Stiles knew that you had intended this to be a joke - but he couldn’t help the twinge of pain the words caused in his gut. The idea that he was truly just a waste of time in your life. He pressed his lips tightly together to suppress a frown and didn’t say anything more, and then you continued.

“It’s almost your curfew anyway.” You pointed out, gesturing toward the clock. You were right. Stiles hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting - too busy enjoying his time with you. “We’ll pack it up for the night - but you should meet me at the library tomorrow morning, early, so we can go over everything again before the exam.”

Of course, you were still invested in the idea of him getting a good grade, even if that seemed unlikely to happen.

“You’re gonna make me get up early?” He whined, hating the idea of missing out on even ten extra minutes of sleep.

“Yes.” You stressed. “I want you there at seven o’clock. Sharp.”

Your ultra serious voice ordering him around was undeniably a turn-on for him. No matter what sexual fantasies Stiles cooked up about you in his mind, he could never picture himself having full control over you. In fact, most of the time, he found himself covered in cum at the idea of you having complete control over him. And it was likely because this was how most of your friendship went - you told him what to do, and he did it. And that was a huge part of why he fell for you in the first place.

When he didn’t verbally confirm the time, too caught up in his infatuation yet again, you let out a gentle growl of frustration.

“Stiles!” You called out his name. “You have to be there at seven. So you can’t get out of bed at seven - you have to set your alarm for like six-thirty, got it? Don’t make me come over there and get your ass out of bed like last time.”

This thought caused Stiles’s stomach to clench.

The last time you had come to his house to wake him up for school (because he had agreed to help you with some bakesale project and you were pissed off that he wasn’t there early to help you set up tables and whatnot) - you had charged into his house in a fury. You had your own key, of course, and his dad wasn’t there to busy you with conversation or pleasantries.

And you charged right up the stairs and nearly caught him with a hand around his cock, jerking off to a picture of you in a bikini from the summer before. And he had rushed to shove the picture in his nightstand and cocoon himself in the comforter to hide his body just as you made it to the top of the stairs, shouting at him for being late. Luckily, he had gotten away with the lie that he had slept in, rather than revealing the truth that he had been distracted because he had woken up with morning wood after having a heated dream about you.

When Stiles didn’t respond yet again, you grabbed a smaller decorative pillow from behind you and lightly hit him with it for emphasis, causing him to burst into laughter.

“Promise me you’ll be on time!” You said, smacking him with the pillow again.

“Yes, yes! I promise!” He finally agreed, his face becoming pink from laughter.

You dropped the pillow then, and leaned down, causing his eyes to inadvertently go straight to your cleavage while you gave him a gentle, friendly kiss on the forehead.

“Good boy.” You responded, praising him for agreeing to your terms. Obviously, it was another joke.

But these praising words combined with your lips even slightly brushing against his skin, along with your tits dangling so close to his face, had his cock swelling to hardness nearly instantly. He grabbed the pillow then, trying to look subtle as he put it over his crotch, desperately trying to hide the very obvious bulge that had popped up at the front of his jeans within seconds.

He was lucky when you shifted your attention away from him, now busy with cleaning off the bed, gathering your textbooks in a pile and moving to put them on your desk in the corner. You being distracted gave him a few moments to try and mentally will his dick down, which worked slightly. Only slightly.

“You could help me, you know.” You mocked him lightly - distracting him from his thoughts of baseball, trying to will the blood out of his cock.

He looked up and saw you standing there with his backpack, putting away his textbooks and notebooks now. He had been so dumbly distracted by his own dick that he hadn’t noticed you taking the kind initiative to clean up his things for him too.

“Right, sorry.” He jumped into action and did so, taking things from your hands and shoving them into his bag with haste.

“You don’t have to rush out, I just need the bed cleared off so I can pick out my clothes for tomorrow.” You told him.

“Wait - you actually pick out your clothes in advance?” He asked, thinking that this was entirely adorable, and explained why you were always so well dressed.

(And it explained why you were always so punctual in the mornings while Stiles was usually a mess - running around his house still half-asleep, shoving his head into a shirt that he had sniffed to see if it was clean, shoving things frantically into his bag in order to get out the door five minutes late.)

“Well you know not all of us are okay with just throwing on last week’s mustard stained tee shirt,” You said, playfully pointing to a mustard stain that he had on his shirt from lunch.

He rolled his eyes in return, trying to ignore the slight twist of embarrassment that wanted to swell up inside of him at the comment.

There had been a point where he used to make a very pointed effort to impress you. Back when his crush on you had first gotten serious - likely around the beginning of high school. He used to get up early every single morning, spending a lot of time being intensely picky about the clothes he wore. He drowned himself in cologne (until you had complained about it), he wore certain colors just because you mentioned liking them. But none of it seemed to garner any more of your attention than usual.

And so, he resigned himself to be the loser best friend who would always just float at the corners of your life, drowning in his secret affection for you until some better, hotter guy came along and swept you off your feet one day.

He was just glad that day hadn’t come yet.

Stiles was hesitant to leave - he wasn’t done being around you for the day yet, too emotionally attached. But he guessed that he would need to get some decent sleep before waking up at the asscrack of dawn in order to see more of you the next morning. (Even if it would include the horrors of studying at the library.)

“So - I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” He posed, ready to take his leave as he swung his backpack over his shoulder.

“Ooh, wait one second.” You said, eagerness twinging through your voice.

His heart pounded hard in his chest for a moment, wondering if this could be the moment he had been waiting so long for - would you stop him there, grab him by the shoulders and kiss him hard, and then tell him that you had been feeling the exact same way as he had for all these years?

“Which one?” You asked, spinning around from your closet to face him, holding up two dresses on hangers.

Oh. You were asking for his opinion about what you should wear to school the next day.

“The blue one.” Stiles said, motioning towards it. “That shade of blue looks beautiful on you - it compliments your skin tone well, and it makes you shine. But ya know, you look gorgeous in everything. You could wear a paper bag to school and everyone would still be jealous of how amazing you look.”

He rambled on for a moment too long, and realized that his genuine fondness for you - something straying too far into romantic territory - was slipping out.

“But - uh, yeah. I’ll see you later.” He quickly added on, now eager to leave before you could make any further comments.

Then he dashed out of your room and down the stairs, getting out the front door so fast that he practically left a poof of cartoon dust behind him.

He got into the Jeep and tossed his bag into the passenger’s seat - which, he hadn’t realized was not even zipped up. (A habit you often scolded him for - going around with his bag unzipped.) Papers and books spilled across the seat and underneath it, and he let out a loud growl of frustration.

“Idiot!” He screamed, scolding himself as he leaned down, trying to clean everything up. “Idiot, idiot, idiot!”

Partially, he was feeling so idiotic because he had just been so vulnerable with you and you probably thought he was weird for it. Actually, that was mostly why.

As he was picking up his things, he realized that - yup, he was missing his English textbook. He had forgotten it in your room. He heaved out a sigh and collapsed back against his seat. He could leave without it - but then he would get an earful from you in the morning about how he was ‘forgetful’ and ‘irresponsible’. Ugh.

He got out of the Jeep again and shuffled his way back into your house - your mom was working late, so there was nobody there to question him running out of the house at top speed and then appearing back so soon. All he got was a curious chirp and a head tilt from your cat, who was sitting on the top of the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Stiles remarked to the animal, stopping for a moment to pet him. “I’m pathetic. But you can’t rat me out, okay? I know she thinks highly of your opinion and I need you to put in a good word for me. Got it?”

The cat purred and pushed his face into Stiles’s hand, so he assumed that was a positive affirmation that he would root for Stiles - or at the very least, keep his secret.

Stiles linger for a moment to scratch the cat’s furry cheek, and then he stepped over the cat and made his way back toward your room. He passed the closed bathroom door and heard the shower running, and he almost cheered. If you were in the shower, then you wouldn’t notice him slipping back in to grab his book, so you couldn’t scold him for being a forgetful idiot.

He went into your room, and the second he made it through the mouth of your open bedroom, his eyes locked onto your bed like a hot target. Your clothes for the following day were spread out so neatly, and right there, on top of the blue dress he had suggested - there was a pair of lacy purple panties that were something right out of one of his fantasies.

Stiles had thought about your underwear before - many times. Too many times to count.

He had even caught small, passing glimpses of your underwear before - when you had worn dresses without tights and bent over in front of him. But he had only seen enough of it to determine the color, not to know if it was lacy or silk or cotton. And even that was enough to send him into a tailspin that had him rushing to the bathroom to relieve his aching cock.

In the back of his mind - or truly, the forefront of his mind whenever he jerked off to thoughts of you - he always wondered what kind of underwear you wore. What kind of decorative wrapping your pretty pussy would come in if he ever got the other-worldly privilege of getting his hands up your skirt.

Would they be simple, practical cotton underwear? Would they be cute? Would they be sinfully sexy? Would they be those underwear with the days of the week written across the front?

But seeing this now - seeing the tangible evidence in front of him that you actually planned to wear purple lacy lingerie to school - it was something that had all sense draining from his mind as blood rushed to his cock once again. He barely had time to think about it - and he didn’t think about it. Because then, they were in his hands, in his pocket, and he was back in the Jeep, hiding his stolen goods in his bag and hastily zipping it up so he could slam his foot on the gas and race home.

He didn’t even have a chance to think about the fact that he left without the textbook that he had gone back into your room looking for. He didn’t have the attention span to notice that said textbook was in a stack along with your own - almost as if purposefully kept there like an excuse to lure him back into your room, rather than clumsily forgotten by him.

…

When Stiles got into his room, he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, now entirely frantic, and thankful that his father was working a late shift again. He sat down on the edge of his bed, his hands shaking with anticipation as he unzipped his bag and pulled out the thing he had so hastily snagged.

His mind was warring with so many sensations. Guilt for taking the panties, paranoia that he would get caught, shame that he even had the urge to take them in the first place - but all of that was easily toppled over and forgotten in the name of lust. Overwhelming lust and arousal that he felt for you. Greed and joy at knowing that he had something so private of yours in his hands now - something so secret that he shouldn’t have. A perfect little piece of you.

His little secret piece of you.

He still couldn’t believe that this was the kind of underwear you wore on a daily basis.

Just imagining that this was what you wore to school - thinking about the fact that this was what you were wearing under your clothes during your everyday interactions with him: it drove him wild.

He easily pictured this pretty lace sticking to your cunt when you were wet, the lavender colored material getting slick and slightly darker, soaked through and visibly sticky when you spread your legs for him to see. He wondered if your pussy would be shaved or not - but you didn’t have a boyfriend, so currently, you didn’t have anybody to shave for.

He remembered a conversation from a few weeks ago where Scott had wondered if he should shave his pubes for Allison and you had remarked that ‘putting a razor near your junk’ was ‘ill-advised and stupid’ - so you probably didn’t even like shaving your pussy on principle.

This immediately put a picture in his mind of your pussy being covered in soft hair that matched the shade on your head - maybe a bit darker. It would clump together with your juices and become soaked when you got wet. The little hairs would probably stick out cutely from the sides of the bikini cut underwear, peeking at him.

Your pussy would be the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he knew that for certain.

Stiles imagined getting you in the backseat of the Jeep one night after a game.

He would still be covered in sweat from his efforts, worn out from trying his best. Sure, he wasn’t the best player, but you wanted to ‘reward’ him for his efforts on the winning side, even if he hadn’t directly contributed to the win.

So as soon as the game was over, before he even had time to change out of his pads or shower, you hauled him to the parking lot and shoved him into the car. His gear was only half-off, ditched hastily by your feet, and you were in his lap - a perfect prize after all the hard work he had done, sitting astride his already sore thigh muscles while you kissed him - hard. Your mouth greedily sucked the oxygen out of his lungs while you shoved your tongue past his lips, painting his tongue with your sweet spit - and fuck, it felt like he was made for this.

He got sucked so deep into the fantasy - it felt so damn real.

He imagined having his hands splayed out against your beautiful, plump ass, gripping you tightly, noting wanting you to separate from him for even a section. While you held on tightly to his face, sealing him into the kiss until his lips were sore. And you would only pull back to look into his eyes with glossy desperation and utter out:

“Please, Stiles. I need you. I need you to touch my pussy.”

And what else could he do but obey?

So he would lift up your skirt - a particularly short skirt that you had worn with nothing else but a pair of knee-high socks. Something that you knew he loved to see you cheer for him on the sidelines while wearing. Even though it was a chilly night, you couldn’t feel too cold when you saw him glancing at you every single chance he got. Of course, those distracted stares had gotten him screamed at by Coach more than once. But he loved the way your skirt would flutter up in the nighttime breeze, teasing him. The way the fucking beautiful thick fat of your thighs would jiggle whenever you would jump around in order to cheer him on.

He was a man of simple, divine tastes.

So - he would lift up that perfect skirt to find those purple lacy panties underneath; to find the perfection of your wet cunt waiting for him, growing slicker by the second, more needy for him. You were humping yourself against his athletic cup, which his hard cock was practically dying inside of, bursting to get out of the hard shell of plastic to touch you. But he ignored his own needs for a few minutes longer in favor of yours. Reaching forward, sliding his fingers along the wet spot at the front of your panties, absolutely indulging in the beautiful gasp you let out when his touch grazed across your swollen clit through the fabric.

“Stiles, please.”

He could almost hear it - it was so fucking clear inside his mind. The way your voice would be so pitched with desperation, so perfectly needy curled around his name. He wanted so badly to hear it in real life.

And he would push those panties to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your hot, wet cunt-

Back in the real world, Stiles’s cock gave a needy pulse, leaking into his boxers.

He heaved out a sigh, his cock practically vibrating with blood. He had driven home the whole time trying to ignore that boner, but he simply couldn’t do that anymore. He just had to give in.

He hesitantly put your panties aside - already feeling a strange sense of attachment to them - and reached to his nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube that he had in the drawer. Shamefully, it was already half empty, mostly due to the fantasies that he had about you. He undid his pants and had them around his ankles in record time, and whipped off his shirt for good measure, knowing that he was quite a ‘splasher’ and not wanting to get cum on it to pair with that ugly mustard stain.

He lubed up his cock more than a healthy amount, knowing that it would contribute to the fantasy of you being so wet around him. It was a distant fantasy that he would never actually get to achieve, but hell - a man can dream. Then he began to slowly pump his cock in hand, wanting to milk it and truly enjoy it, and he let his mind get back to work.

He thought back to your place. A place he was comfortable, spent a lot of time at hanging out with you.

He imagined that early that night when he had forgotten his book, rather than you being in the shower, he went back to your room and found that you had been getting ready for bed. You were rubbing sweet-smelling lotion on your arms, pulling back the covers, wearing nothing but a pair of cute little socks, a tiny camisole - where he could very visibly see that you weren’t wearing a bra, with the natural teardrop shape of your breasts bared to the eye, your nipples poking through the fabric - and those purple lace panties.

When he would appear in the doorway, you would gawk at him and ask:

“Stiles? What are you doing? Did you… forget something?”

But you would be positioned half leaning over the bed, taking back the covers so it would be comfortable for you to sleep - and your ass would be unintentionally on full display. Your sweet pussy lips peeking at him from behind, the roundness of your ass so fucking inviting, daring him to leave bite marks across the beautifully fat flesh.

And after a few moments of him staring so brazenly, saying nothing, simply drinking in the gorgeous sight of your body bent over, wearing so little clothing, wearing those perfect little lace panties-

(Stiles sped up his hand on his cock, the lube sounding downright sloppy in the silence of the room.)

You would stand up to your full height, come to him in the doorway, put your face so close to his and say:

“If you’re gonna spend so much time staring at me like a gaping idiot, then you should do something about it.”

Stiles had to stop the swift movements of his hand and clutch his grip tightly around the base of his cock, making his entire dick throb hard as he edged off his own orgasm.

He still wasn’t sure why the idea of you calling him an ‘idiot’ in such a brazen tone made him want to cum so hard - but he didn’t have time to unpack all that now.

He grabbed up the panties again with his non-lubed hand. Something in the back of his mind thought that it would be a crime for him to get them dirty. Another part argued that he would absolutely love to get them covered in his cum, not clean them, and then return them to you. That it would be fucking thrilling to have you wear them in that dirtied state.

Though he knew that would never fucking happen.

If he returned the panties to you covered in his cum, then you would slap him, call him a pervert, and likely have Scott beat the shit out of him with his newly harnessed werewolf strength. Stiles pushed this thought to the back of his mind, though.

Out of curiosity, he lifted the fabric to his nose and took a whiff. They smelled like fresh laundry - a nice lemony detergent. Of course they weren’t ones you had previously worn - they were a pair you had been planning on wearing tomorrow.

He distantly wondered if that meant you would not be wearing underwear tomorrow, because he had taken your intended pair. And that could have led his mind down a whole different filthy track, but instead - he began to wonder what a pair of your dirty underwear might smell like.

You should take a pair of used ones. A voice in his mind told him. Snatch them right out of the hamper. Come on, you’re over at her place all the time. She won’t even notice them gone.

Terrible idea. Terrible rabbit hole.

But what would they smell like?

He wasn’t deluded enough to think that pussy smelled like roses. He had never been close enough to one - a real pussy - before to actually know. Yes, he was a virgin. He could have said that he was waiting, ‘saving it’ for you - but every other girl, including you, was smart enough to look past him. There were plenty of other guys who were better looking and more charming than him, and probably better in bed than him, that girls had chosen instead of him.

He wondered if your pussy smelled like that perfect bit of sweat that you gathered at the end of a long day. Sometimes when he went to hug you before the two of you parted ways, he would catch a whiff of the tiniest undertone of musk, a good amount of sweat paired with the berry scented body spray you had put on that morning, and orange tic-tacs you had popped after lunch. It was a delectable combination.

He imagined that your cunt would smell like that bit of sweat, combined with the blueberry body wash you used - the one he knew about and loved because of the time you had insisted he use your shower while stinking up a study session because he had skipped the showers after lacrosse practice when he was late to be with you.

He imagined getting hints of that blueberry body wash smell coming off your thighs when his head was buried between them. What would your cunt taste like? That was a mystery he wanted to solve live.

He could always imagine the other aspects so well.

He could imagine the feeling of the heat under his tongue, the perfect feeling of your wetness mixing with his spit. He imagined getting to bounce your swollen clit against his tongue and while feeling your moans and cries of his name vibrate through your body as he pleasured you so well - the feeling of your pubes brushing against his cheeks as his entire face became soaked with your wetness.

But the taste - that was something he could never conjure up in his mind, no matter how hard he tried.

He knew that eating your pussy would be perfect. Not just because he would be giving you pleasure, serving you. But he so often dreamed of having his head smothered by your thighs, having you grab his head and shove him tighter into your cunt, you purposeful and demanding. You having that beautiful control over him while he drowned in your wetness.

He knew that he would likely cum in his pants from eating you out if he ever got the privilege of doing so, and even if you laughed at him - stupidly, he would find that hot too.

Stiles picked up the pace again, pumping his cock in hand evenly and firmly - even reaching down with the other hand to cradle his balls, gently rolling the flesh in his hand as he got lost in another fantasy of you.

He imagined the two of you in his bed - textbooks forgotten and pushed off onto the floor, your dress hiked up around your hips, and again, those fucking purple lace panties. He was on top of you, hovering on his knees so that his hard cock wouldn’t brush against you (even through his jeans) while the two of you sloppily made-out.

It wasn’t long before you pulled away from his kiss-swollen lips.

“Stiles,” You purred into his ear, kissing along his neck. “You know, you’re so pathetic.”

These words had his cock jumping, spurting out precum - in his fantasy, it made his underwear messy as you undid his fly.

In the real world, it made his hand messy as he continued to rhythmically jerk his cock.

“I’m not gonna let you fuck me.” You told him, contrasting these words with your intentions as you put your hands inside his waistband and shoved his pants and underwear down over his hips - down to his knees until his hard, throbbing cock was exposed. “Not until you prove yourself.”

Before Stiles could ask the question, the beautiful, fantastic you that he had made up inside his mind gave him the perfect answer.

“Get yourself off by rubbing your pathetic dick against my panties. And then - I might let you fuck me.”

In the real world, Stiles let out a throttled moan - a choked sound that surely would have had his father knocking on the door to ask if he was okay if he was at home. And then he rushed to grab the panties again, and without even thinking, he used his sticky lubed up hand to position the fabric around his dick. It was a coarse roughness compared to the slick smoothness he had previously been feeling, but it did wonders to complete his fantasy as he delved back to the you inside of his mind.

He started rubbing the slightly lube-sticky rough fabric up and down his dick at a very slow pace as he imagined it:

Being perched between your thighs, with the fabric of the panties stuck to your wet cunt, his cock hard and leaking as he tucked himself right up against you and began to rub his dick against you in order to get off. Just like you wanted, just like you had ordered him to do.

“Please.” Stiles chanted, the words leaking out of his lips, chanted into his empty bedroom as he pleaded to the imaginary you that would always have a hold over him - just as tight of a hold as the real you had. “Please, please - oh fuck.”

He moved the fabric over his cock faster as he moved his hips faster in the fantasy, imagining how hot your pussy would feel against him, imagining your nails digging into his hips as you looked up at him with mocking and adoration in your eyes. He imagined you forcing his hips faster, trapping him in place with your knees bracketed around his thighs, showing him absolutely no mercy.

“Please, please, please.” He chanted, knowing with a distant part of his mind that he must have sounded utterly delirious. “Please, Y/N, lemme cum-”

“Cum for me, Stiles.”

Confirmed by that fantasy version of you and truly unable to hold it any longer, Stiles arched up off the bed, cumming all over his own fist. Just as he had predicted, it was an utter, uncontrollable mess. He shot cum all over his stomach, and absolutely soaked the fabric of the panties - making a horrible mess of them. Which, the lube had definitely already done. He laid there for a single moment catching his breath before it truly hit him.

Fuck. He had fucked up.

You would definitely notice the underwear missing after a while and he certainly couldn’t return them to you in this condition.

…

Stiles spent the next hour in the bathroom, absolutely panicking over how to get them clean. Luckily, he wasn’t a total idiot and he looked up the washing instructions online - and after hand-washing them in warm water with a ‘gentle’ detergent (handsoap was the best that he could do), they came out perfectly clean.

The only problem?

Hang to dry.

He set his alarm for early, earlier than you suggested, and prayed that he wouldn’t sleep through it. In fact, he set three more alarms just to make sure. He couldn’t have you or his father barging into his room to wake him up when he had a pair of your stolen panties pinned to his corkboard in order to properly dry them so that he could sneak them back to you in good condition.

…

The next day, he departed for school by 6:45 with the stolen goods hidden away in his bag, ready to sneak them back into your room later that afternoon. He made it to the library ten whole minutes before seven, and you seemed shocked that he was not only on time - but early.

“Wow.” You said, having just gotten there yourself, spreading out your items at a table - including a tray with some coffees. “You know, Stiles, I am impressed.”

“You don’t have to act so - so shocked.” He replied, partially interrupted by a yawn.

You leaned over to get a pen from your bag, and Stiles’s eyes immediately went to your ass, unconsciously trying to spot panty lines through your dress and tights - wondering if you were even wearing underwear because he had stolen the ones you had intended for today.

Focus, Stiles. Focus.

“Well, if you weren’t here by seven sharp like I told you, I was gonna pour this in the garbage.” You told him, taking his coffee out of the paper tray and sliding it toward him.

“You don’t have to be so mean.” He chuckled, airy and light - very secretly annoyed with the way your ‘mean’ streak affected him sometimes. Why did he have to be turned on by you scolding him and punishing him? Why?

“Hey, if I’m not mean then you never get anything done.” You told him truthfully. “And you know how it works by now. Good boys get rewards and bad boys get spanked.” You told him, letting out a bright laugh - indicating that it was clearly meant to be a joke.

But instantly, it shook his mind with imagery of you bending him over the table, ripping his pants down and spanking him until he came untouched and cried for mercy, forcing him to agree that he would behave and listen to you. He became downright dizzy at the thought.

You meant it as a joke - he had to sharply remind himself. But the way you so casually called him a ‘good boy’, said that he was deserving of a ‘reward’ - it sent chills down his spine and already had his cock waking up. Too early. Bad rabbit hole.

If he was any sort of brave, he would have pushed it more and asked you what kind of ‘reward’ you had in mind. But he wasn’t, and he was too tired to analyze the potential consequences.

“Oh!” You said, as though suddenly remembering something. You moved to grab your bag again and Stiles closed his eyes to forcefully keep himself from staring at your ass. “You left this at my place last night.” You told him, sliding his English textbook across the table toward him.

He was too busy trying to calm his own lust that he missed the smirk on your face - the mischief lingering in your eyes, the intention in your tone. He was too caught up, drowning in his own affections for you that he never would have pieced together that you had taken in and hidden it on purpose as a ploy to get him to come back. That you had put out some other bait for him to find.

“Thanks.” He said quietly. “So - what do we need to go over before the test?”

“Everything.”

Stiles groaned.

...

Edit to my notes as of Oct. 9th, 2024:

It is now my biggest regret announcing that there is a sequel to this fic in my drafts, but there is one that is fully written and just needs to be edited (but that is something that takes time and effort - neither of which I am going to put into the fic right now). However, it will not be posted anytime soon, and it is delayed infinitely. It will be posted when it is posted (and currently I don't know when that will be), and I would appreciate people not chasing me down and not asking about it.

Originally, my point of having a comment and reblog goal on this fic was so that a certain percentage of the people who read and liked the preview for this fic would have to reblog it, but the ratio on this fic is still absolutely horrendous, and it's clear to me that once people saw that goal was met, they didn't care to reblog this fic or comment on it if they enjoyed it - they only care to nag me and chase me down for the sequel while this fic sits at over 600 likes and less than 100 reblogs and comments (including my replies to people's comments).

If you are reading this fic after the edit, I hope you enjoyed it. I hope you do stick around on my blog while I work on and post other things. But the sequel to this fic will not be coming out anytime soon because I am a person with shifting interests, not a robot. Those shifting interests (and me chasing them organically) is the reason that I can produce 200k of fanfiction in a year and post all of it for free for people to enjoy.

And as always - if you enjoyed this fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written. And perhaps, consider reblogging it to show your appreciation. Please do not comment about the sequel.

If you want to be tagged in the next part, you can ask to be put on my Teen Wolf taglist by interacting with this post, but please know that if you don't follow my taglist rules, you will be removed from the taglist promptly. If that happens, you are still welcome to read and enjoy future fics, you just won't be included in my taglists ever again.

Happy reading, and I hope you enjoyed the fic!!

#sundrop writes #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brien smut #stiles stilinksi smut #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf smut

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gabbytbll · 23 days ago

Text

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐘𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆'𝐒 ⚠: 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭/𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤.

𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈⊘

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄'𝐒 ╰┈➤: 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬. 𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐎𝐎𝐂! 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭.

𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 - 𝑨𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑨𝒕𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒌

𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐲 @k1ssyoursister 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡♡

ྐ✚ We all know he stalks you with mephisto 24/7 from his stalking he has learned everything about you and i mean everything.

ྐ✚ He knows what you like to eat the most so he will randomly buy food for you whenever he feels like u didn't eat enough.

ྐ✚ He is a VERY possessive man, so whenever he sees a guy or girl flirting with you then their usually dead by tomorrow for messing with his darling without his permission.

ྐ✚ He hates to make you scared of him but if he has to do something you don't like he throws that thought out the window to do what he thinks is best for his darling.

ྐ✚ You know not to go on dates with people but whenever sylus makes you mad, you disobey him to get back at him for something he did.

ྐ✚ He favorite punishment method is tying you up to the bed post and leaving you for hours with a vibrator teasing you while he leaves to go do work or he just sits there and watches you while playing with the settings to the vibrator on his phone.

ྐ✚ You know the rules he has set in place for you and he KNOW'S you like breaking them so every time you break a rule, he finds out different ways to punish you.

ྐ✚ This guy is the type of guy to break your legs if you try to leave him, he just loves his darling so much he can't help it.

ྐ✚ He would never force you to have sex with him, but he will get more needy and clingy until you give in to him.

ྐ✚ One of his favorite things to do in bed is to eat your pussy that man gets pussy drunk from how good you taste on his tongue, it's one of his favorite flavors he said.

ྐ✚ He would most definitely get your name tattooed on his chest or abs he doesn't care if you like it or not because he loves it.

ྐ✚ He can be submissive for you if you like him like that, but he prefers being dominate and in control of things.

ྐ✚ He loves how his dick can make you turn into a dumb whore, he likes to take videos of you like that and then show you later to embarrass you.

ྐ✚ Whenever you would be possessive back he would get instantly turned on he thinks you look so hot whenever your mad someone flirts with him.

ྐ✚ He loves to mark you anyway he can to show that you belong to him and no one else, he marks you in places you know you can't hide like under your chin or near your ear.

ྐ✚ When you got kidnapped by his enemy's, he started a war with the people who kidnapped or hurt you and of course he won just for you.

ྐ✚ Will have sex with you ANYWHERE he doesn't care about public decency when it comes to you, would kill anyone who seen you while you and him have sex cause only he can see you like that.

ྐ✚ He would kill anyone just because you said so or complained about them, he can't have his darling sad about what another person did to you that's a no no for him.

ྐ✚ You know how much he's obsessed with you, and you use it to your advantage sometimes because you love how he would do ANYTHING for you and i mean anything.

ྐ✚ He loves to take you on random expensive dates to whatever he feels like would impress you the most or what you love to do, from a sky restaurant to a massage place.

ྐ❤︎ " p- please slow d- down sylus" you said while arching your back, trying to run from his rough thrust's. He let out a breathy chuckle while watching you struggle from his rough pace " but darling you love it so much- i can feel you clench around me so tight" he said with a groan. You run your hands up his body to wrap your arms around his head to hold onto something. "ughnn please i c- cant" you said, eyes rolling into the back of your head. You clench around his dick as you have your third orgasm of the night. He lets out a small moan. "yesss good girl, cum on my dick" He groaned, words breathy. He started to move his head down to suck on your abused nipples. Your leg's give out as they start to shake around his hips from the overstimulation.

He grabs your hips and starts slamming you back against him making him go even deeper. The sounds of wet skin slapping fill's the hot air. You start moaning louder close to another orgasm. "I'm going to ungh cum ah- again" you said, out of breath. His thrusts turn irregular the more he gets close to his own release. "Fuck darling you're so tight you're going to cut my dick off" Sylus said, teeth grinding together he thinks he can taste metal.

His pace gets more desperate the more he thrusts into you. You start to lose your mind from how deep his is in you, you swear you can feel him in your womb. "Fuckk- ah- i'm cumming ugnh darling~" Sylus said, words slurring as his vison turns white for a couple seconds. It's like something snapped. You let out a loud moan as liquid squirted out from around his dick trying to push his dick out from your tight hole. You whole world turns white from pleasure. He lets out a groan from overstimulation, he almost cum's again from how tight you feel around him.

As you slowly come back down from pleasure you see him above you with a smug smirk. You ignore that look and tried to move from out of his hold to go clean up. "Aww don't be embarrassed darling it was rly hot" he said, with a breathy chuckle. You ignored his remark and tried to get up from the bed to stand up but failed. You let out a sigh "can you help me please" You said in a small voice. He gets up to help you to the bathroom to clean the both of you up.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃

✧𝐓𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞,𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭✧

𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭<𝟑

©️ 𝐠𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲𝐭𝐛𝐥𝐥. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

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surielstea · 2 months ago

Text

“Just one more, baby.”

Kinktober day 1: Overstim + Praise

Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rhys is a sex god, that is all your honor

A. Note: First day of kinktober! Enjoy this Rhys fic that is simply 2k words of pure smut 💋♥️

2.3k words.

"C'mon baby, give me one more." My mate's words were distant, barely heard through barriers of hot pleasure.

"Rhys," I whimper, his name the only word I could form on my lips anymore. "Rhys," My brows bunch as sweat beads along my hairline.

My limbs were heavy with exertion, and my core throbbed with sensitivity. It felt too good to say it hurt, but gods was it too much.

"You're doing so well," He coos, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my jaw, the featherlight touch like flames licking up my neck, heat encased me as if I was placed in a freshly put out furnace, and every touch like crackling embers on my bare skin.

"S'too much," I manage to get out, my voice raw and weak from pleading and moaning early this morning. I used the small amount of energy I had left to take a glance at the window, spotting the sun high in the sky— since dawn, he's had me beneath him like this since dawn. I lost track of how many times I had found release nearly hours ago.

Rhys had only reached that peak thrice, and when he was building that endurance back up he would use his mouth on me, there wasn't a moment where I wasn't attended to.

"Please," I cry out, "s'too much," I repeat, tears streaming down my cheeks as he delicately kissed them away, such gentleness in contrast to the way he had been pounding into me earlier.

"I know, I know darling," He murmurs, his voice a soft encouragement. "But you begged for this," He reminded. "Until you forget your own name, remember?" He nipped at the soft skin below my ear and I cried out, regretting my own words— but also thanking every god listening for a mate like this.

"Uh huh— I remember," I say breathlessly, nails scraping down his bare back, corded muscles shifting as he rolled his hips onto mine, his cock spearing into me relentlessly.

"Yeah? Tell me your name then," He suggests, moving his hand from my breast down my torso, and before I can answer his thumb finds my clit, rubbing in tight circles across the puffy, reddened bud. I gasped, my head falling back into the pillows.

I writhe, my body deflecting the overstimulation. "Yours," I rasp, my hands flowing into his dark locks. "I'm, I'm yours, Rhys."

"There she is, that's my good girl," He smiles against my neck, licking and nipping at my marked throat before sucking roughly at a highly sensitive area. I mewl at the sensation, every nerve in my body stretching taut as he continued his torturous ministrations around my clit.

"Please, please," I whine, my legs jolting with uncontrolled spasms.

"Please, what darling?" He prods, his husky voice like a velvet glove wrapped around my throat.

"Please, let me come," I beg. He grins viciously.

"Again, already?" He taunts and I whimper, my lower lip quivering as I prepared myself to plead, to grovel for that release I craved so ardently.

"Yes," I say through a breathless exhale. "Rhys I need, need it," I could hardly string together words, every sound I made another lewd moan.

He ignored my pleas and continued his torment to my pulsing core, his unrelenting and near-punishing movements sending me into a headspace one could only describe as full submission.

Rhys didn't let up, his hand working mercilessly between my legs while his cock hit a spot so deep I couldn't remember where I ended and he began. I was trembling beneath him, my entire body oversensitive, but the craving for release burned through every muscle.

"Rhys," I whimpered, the sound broken as my vision blurred with tears. "I can't—"

"You can," He purred, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "And you will." The authority in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I clung to him as though he were my only lifeline, nails raking down his back. His muscles shifted and flexed under my touch, and he groaned lowly at the pain mixed with pleasure, the primal sound making me pulse around him.

He knew exactly what he was doing—drawing me to the very edge of what I could handle and then pushing me beyond it.

My body was his to command, and the way his name fell from my lips like a desperate prayer proved it.

"You're mine," he whispered into my ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just beneath. "Every part of you, mine."

I sobbed his name again, my back arching off the bed, muscles straining as I tried to escape the overwhelming pleasure. But Rhys' strong hands held me steady, firm, and inescapable as he pressed me deeper into the bed, his weight grounding me as my body shook with the effort of holding on.

"Atta girl," he murmured, and the praise sent a new wave of heat through my already blazing body. "You're doing so well for me. Just a little more, darling."

His thumb circled my clit faster, the friction against my swollen, overstimulated flesh making my vision blur. My hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging in as if trying to anchor myself, but Rhys barely reacted to the pain, his focus entirely on me. I could hear his breathing now, ragged and uneven, and the thought that he was just as affected as me made something primal coil in my chest.

Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes, mixing with the sheen of sweat on my flushed skin. I felt raw and undone, and yet the heat in my core refused to subside. Rhys pressed another kiss to my tear-streaked cheek, his lips featherlight against my skin, in direct contrast to the way his hips slammed into mine with a ferocity that made my entire body jolt.

"You're so beautiful like this," he said, his voice filled with a quiet reverence that made my heart stutter in my chest. "Completely mine, isn't that right?"

I could barely nod, the overstimulation making it impossible to form a coherent thought, let alone words. Every inch of my skin felt like it was on fire, too sensitive to bear another touch, but Rhys didn't stop. He wanted me like this—teetering on the edge of too much, completely at his mercy.

"Tell me," he commanded, his voice rough with need. "Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," I sobbed, my voice shaking as another tremor of pleasure raced up my spine. "I'm—I'm yours, Rhys, yours."

His grip tightened on my thigh, pulling me closer until his cock was buried so deep inside me that it felt like he was part of me, like he was in my blood, in my very bones.

"So perfect," he praised, and the words washed over me like a balm, soothing the ache of pain even as he pushed me dangerously close to that edge I've already gone over a multitude of times. His pace quickened, and the sound of his skin slapping against mine filled the room, mingling with my ragged breaths and desperate moans.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful so fucked out like this, you love this don’t you?” His hot mouth ghosted my jaw. “Love being stretched out and filled up?”

I barely heard him, lost in the blinding pleasure. It coursed through every nerve, and my vision blurred with tears as my body trembled uncontrollably. But Rhys never let go, holding me steady, his hand still working my clit with maddening precision. Even as I tried to pull away from the overwhelming sensations, he kept me grounded, refusing to let me escape the pleasure.

"I—Rhys, please," I gasped, my voice breaking as the overstimulation bordered on unbearable. My legs shook, and I tried to close them, desperate for a reprieve, but my limbs felt boneless, and moving was impossible. His grip on my thigh tightened, sensing my protest and keeping me open and vulnerable beneath him.

"Just a little more, darling," he coerced, his breath hot against my ear. "You can take it, I know you can." His praise wrapped around me like a warm blanket, pulling me deeper into the haze of pleasure. Even as my body screamed for mercy, something in his voice soothed the ache, and made me want to give him everything.

"You're doing so well," he continued, his voice gentle now as if he knew I was teetering on the edge of my limits. "Such a good girl for me. Just one more, darling. I know you can give me one more."

I whimpered, my nails digging into his back as I clung to him, feeling like I might break apart at the seams. Rhys always knew exactly how to push me—just far enough to test my limits, but never so far that I couldn't handle it. And right now, his voice, his praise, was the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.

"Please," I begged, my voice hoarse from crying out his name over and over. "Rhys, I—"

"I know," he soothed, his lips brushing over the tears staining my cheeks. "I know, darling. You can come. Let go f’me."

His thumb circled my clit with devastating precision, and my body betrayed me, a fresh wave of pleasure crashing through my already trembling frame. The orgasm hit me harder than any before, and I felt myself unraveling in Rhys' arms. My entire body tensed, my toes curling as another sob escaped from the back of my throat, my mind going blank as all I could feel was him—everywhere, inside and out.

"Good girl," he praised, his voice thick with satisfaction. "That's it, come for me. Give me everything, darling."

I shattered completely, the pleasure so intense that I couldn't even scream. My body convulsed around him, my nails raking down his back as I clung to him like he was the only thing anchoring me to the earth. And I clamped down, hard. He groaned at the pressure, even pulling out and pushing in was an effort I was so tight around his cock.

His muscled back shifted beneath my nails as his cock twitched against my sensitive walls, and then warmth flooded my fluttering core as he finally found his release, his seed seeping into each of my crevices, implanting inside of me thoroughly for the fourth time that day.

“So, so good. All for me, right?” He said, his voice raw and slightly groggy as he spoke beside my ear.

I nodded weakly, tears streaming down my face as my body sagged into the bed, completely spent. Every muscle felt limp, exhausted from the endless waves of pleasure, and my chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath. But even as I fell apart, Rhys was there, his strong hands guiding me through every movement, his soothing words wrapping around me like silk.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his voice nurturing as he slowed his movements, finally giving me the mercy I so desperately needed. "You're so beautiful like this, darling. Completely mine."

I whimpered, barely able to respond, but he pressed a soft kiss to my lips, his mouth gentle against mine. "Shh, I've got you," he whispered. "You're safe, darling. You did so well."

His praise was endless, a constant stream of soft murmurs as he continued to press kisses to my flushed cheeks, my forehead, and the corner of my mouth. Each one felt like a reward, and even through the haze of exhaustion, I felt my heart swell at his words.

He held me close, his body still pressed against mine as he finally eased out of me, the loss of his warmth making me whimper. But Rhys was quick to soothe me, guiding my legs together, and allowing me to breathe a long sigh of relief.

"You were perfect," he murmured, sidling into the space beside me and pulling me close to his chest, as if unable to let me go after being connected all day. His fingers stroked through my hair as my breathing slowly steadied. "You always are."

I sighed, pressing my face into the crook of his neck, the warmth of his body and the soft praise in his voice lulling me into a comfortable haze. I felt safe, cherished, and completely undone in the best way possible.

I look into his dilated, violet eyes. Seeing only worry and admiration in that familiar gaze, none of the dark lust from earlier remained.

"Too much?" he asked, a hint of playful concern in his voice as his fingers traced lazy circles on my skin, over my hip, along my spine.

I managed a weak smile, eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Maybe just a little," I say, voice scratchy from screaming his name.

Rhys chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my very heart. "I'll keep that in mind for next time." He murmured, pressing a loving kiss to my forehead.

I groaned lightly at the promise in his voice, but couldn't find the energy to do much more. He shifted, pulling a blanket over our naked bodies before shifting me more comfortably against him.

For a long while, neither of us spoke, content to simply bask in the aftermath of the moment. My eyes fluttered closed, but before I could drift off completely, I felt Rhys's fingers tangle in my hair, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet.

"I love you," he said, his tone serious now, reverent.

My heart stuttered in my chest at the tender emotion in his voice, my eyes blinking open to find him staring down at me with that deep, endless devotion.

"I love you too," I whispered, barely able to find my voice.

He smiled then, the kind of smile that melted the world away, making me feel like nothing else mattered but this moment, the two of us wrapped up in each other. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my lips—gentle this time, doting. And at that moment, with my heart still racing from the pleasure and the love swirling between us, I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

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worldlxvlys · 9 months ago

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ANNA. GIRL. I HAVE THE BEST IDEA EVER.

ok, so I was just listening to one of the girls by the Weeknd and I need the filthiest, most pantie soaking, mouth watering, sheet gripping smut about chris based off that song. only if you want though LMAO. also probably really unpopular opinion but chris is most DEFINITELY the dominant one during sex. anyway love you pretty girl!!

one of the girls

fwb! chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smuttttt, semi-public sex, roughhhh sex, choking, slapping, spitting, degradation, dumbification, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, squirting, fingering, overstimulation, humiliation, recording, cursing

a/n: have your holy water on standby y’all

lock me up and throw away the key

he knows how to get the best of me

chris and i’s friendship was anything but normal. to some, it may even be perceived as toxic.

but me? i loved it.

i trusted him enough to do whatever he wanted to me, no matter how extreme.

tell nobody i control you

i broke you just to own you

they can’t tell that i love you

‘cause you’re loyal, baby

he was possessive, but it was hot. we weren’t actually together, but by the way he acted when other guys approached me, you would think we were.

he didn’t want to see me with anyone other than him, and i felt the exact same.

nobody else made me feel the way he did, anyway.

nobody else understood how to test my limits without going overboard.

i love when you’re submissive

love it when i break skin

you feel pain without flinching

i allow him to do whatever he wants to, and in return he he gives me a perfect mix of pleasure and pain.

he constantly pushes me to my limits, it’s almost gratifying to know that i can handle more than i think.

though my masochistic ways can be alarming to some, chris understands. he never judges or questions the things that bring me pleasure.

all it takes is a simple, “i need a distraction” and he has me pushed up against the door, his hand wrapped around my neck.

his fingers wrap around my throat, constricting my airway enough to stop my breathing.

he waits until i look like i’m about to pass out to loosen his grip.

we don’t gotta be in love, no

i don’t gotta be the one, no

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

it doesn’t matter who he fucked yesterday, or who he’s seeing tomorrow. all that matters is right now.

and right now, we’re at a party, where he has me bent over a chair on the host’s back porch.

“you forget who the fuck you belong to? letting him undress you with his eyes like that?” he struck my ass with the palm of his hand over and over, making me cry out.

“how do you think he’d feel knowing that i’m fucking you on his porch?” he asked as he thrusted into me roughly, pushing my hips into the wooden chair harshly with every movement.

i moaned uncontrollably, gripping onto the chair for dear life as he pounded into me.

deciding to play with him, i looked back at him and spoke, “bet he could fuck me better than you ever will”

we both knew it wasn’t true, but chris stopped his movements immediately, making me whine out.

“think we should go find him? let him watch me fuck your brains out?” he asked as he pulled me to stand up.

“no, chris! please, just-” he cut me off by smacking my ass.

suddenly, he spotted a camera that was aimed at a short table in the middle of the porch.

“hmm, looks like he keeps his home secure, baby. you think he gets alerts when there’s movement on his porch?” chris raised his eyebrows at me, pushing me to the table that the camera was aimed at.

“he’s gonna watch this back and see you get fucked like the dirty little cockwhore you are" he rasped into my ear as he placed me onto the low table on my hands and knees.

he held my arms behind my back as he began to fuck me from behind again.

a cool breeze filled the air, making my nipples hard and sending a shiver down my spine.

he gripped my jaw harshly, turning my face to look at him, “open” he spoke.

when i opened my mouth, he gathered his saliva in his mouth before spitting into mine.

i immediately swallowed, making him slap my cheek lightly.

“now look at the camera” he said as he gripped my jaw, angling it so i was looking straight into the camera.

he pushed my body down, holding my shoulder down as his cock continued to stretch out my tight walls.

“you better make a fucking mess all over this table, make sure he knows how good i made you feel” his mouth found its way to my neck, biting at the skin roughly.

“f-fuck, chris” i moaned as his fingers brushed my hard nipples, before squeezing them firmly.

he suddenly grabbed my throat with his hand, pulling me closer to him.

my eyes rolled into the back of my head at the feeling of his hand squeezing around my throat.

he circled my clit with his free hand, and my head fell back onto his shoulder in response.

“such a fucking slut, you love being fucked out here in the open, huh?”

��good, good, so fucking good, holy shit” all i could do was chant those words, not being able to concentrate on chris’s words.

“look at you, going dumb for my cock” he spoke as he continued to fuck his hips into mine.

i mumbled a string of incoherent curses in response, grabbing his bicep as i felt my orgasm approaching.

“you gonna cum?” he asked as he felt me clench around him.

“yes, yes, yes, yes” i chanted as my eyes rolled back and i released on his cock.

“fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up” he groaned before he did exactly that, shooting his seed deep inside of my walls.

he pulled out, quickly replacing his dick with two fingers.

“chris!” i moaned in surprise as he fucked his fingers into me.

“wanna see you squirt all over this fucking table” he growled into my ear.

his fingers moved so quickly inside of me, i could barely keep up.

i reached down to move his hand, but he wasn’t having it.

he pushed me forward, pressing my face into the table.

“it feel good? you like being fingered out here where anyone could see?” he asked as he added another finger.

“yes, yes, oh my god” i cried out as i felt another orgasm coming.

“yeah? then fucking take it” he said.

“chris! i’m cumming!” i yelled as my body shook violently on the table.

“oh my god” i yelled as my juices shot out of me.

“i know you have more, ma. give it to me”

he continued to move his fingers inside of me, watching as the liquid continued to pour out of me, making me scream.

“fuck” i breathed out when his fingers stopped , allowing me to catch my breath.

chris helped me off of the table, helping me to fix my dress so i was covered again before fixing himself up.

he left for a second, coming back with paper towels to clean up our mess.

“hey, you good to get home by yourself? i got something to do” he said, looking down at his phone.

more like someone to do.

“yeah, go. have fun”

with that, he kissed my cheek and left.

we don’t gotta be in love, no

i don’t gotta be the one, no

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight

💋💋💋💋

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chiumii · 1 month ago

Text

take control ~ sunoo x reader

ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 선우 ] ☆ in which you're being a brat towards your boyfriend, telling him how you can top him so easily and make him beg for you. sunoo, being the sweet boyfriend he is- accepts your challenge. he finds it adorable how dedicated you are to make your normally dominant boyfriend submit to you, so it surprises him when he actually finds himself squirming underneath your hips while begging to cum.

word count ; 4.5k

switch/sub! sunoo x switch/dom! reader . cowgirl , face grabbing , degrading , praise , name calling , orgasm denial , oral , hand job , mommy kink , ive never written the reader to be anything other than submissive so pls be NICE. not proof read

"no baby , I really don't think you can" sunoo says to you , a small scoff leaving his lips as he picks up the remote to the TV and switching between channels , attempting to find something to watch for the night. you're standing in the hallway facing the couch sunoo sits on , watching him with a pout on your lips and your arms across your chest.

"I bet I can , you're just too pussy to let me try." sunoo's eyes snap over to your figure , beginning to get pissed off at your bratty attitude.

"y/n, sweetheart, there is no way you'll be able to dominate be baby. you can't even ride me for five seconds before you give up and let me take control. so how about you knock that attitude off or i'll fuck it out of you." his voice is demanding, but you stand your ground anyways , eyeballing your boyfriend from across the room

"you just don't want me to prove you wrong. I bet I can make you beg for me to let you cum." sunoo chokes to your words, a laugh following at your bold statement. he looks at you, his eyes questioning your dedicated attitude.

you two have tried this before, multiple times actually. the end result is always the same;

you ride him , get too tired , beg him to take control , he fucks you absolutely braindead for even thinking you have the slightest chance to be dominant , you submit to him.

He chuckles at your determination, tossing the remote on the coffee table before leaning back into the couch on his palms, racking his eyes down your figure now moving to the center of the living room. he finds your determination so fucking cute; he tongues his cheek before speaking.

"if you manage to make me beg and submit to you; I'll let you fuck me as much as you want , for as long as you want , and do whatever you want. how about that sweet heart?" you bubble in excitement , nodding your head up and down with the biggest smile on your face.

you walk over to him , standing in front of his spread legs. sunoo looks up at you his eyes half-lidded and clouded with lust. he tongues his cheek and raises his eyebrows- challenging you.

within a fraction of a second , your entire demeanor shifts. your body lowers, sitting down on your knees so you're looking up at your boyfriend , perched between his legs. your hands find their way to his belt , undoing it with a click.

you slide his belt off of him all while maintaining eye contact. you unbutton and unzip his jeans , sliding them down his legs and below his ankles, throwing them across the room without looking away.

your eyes shift and are now looking down at his boxers , his dick soft. you almost pout at the sight , feeling disappoint wash over you.

he wasn't turned on at your dominating demeanor, but you're determined to change that.

you raise your hands to palm at him through his boxers , taking sunoo by surprise. he hisses under your hand quietly, a chuckle falling from his lips right after.

the way your familiar palm moves against his clothed cock makes him feel hot , his dick quickly hardening at the feeling of your hand.

"hmm" you hum at the tent forming in his boxers , pride overwhelming your senses. before his cock can fully grow , you remove your palm, earning sunoo's eyes to snap down into yours.

you begin sliding his boxers down his legs, tauntingly slow. his half-hard cock springs out, his tip a pretty pink which compliments the rest of his pale shaft. you take him into your hand again, your manicured fingers working up and down to pump his dick.

he groans at your touch, your thumb coming up to the slit of his dick to play with his sensitive tip. your fingers smear is pearly precum , using it as lubericant to easily jerk him off.

you pump his shaft slowly, feeling each individual vein under your fingertips as you play with him.

you bring your mouth to the head of his dick, kitten licking his tip softly. sunoo moans at the warmth of your tongue, adjusting his body to get more comfortable as you take his tip into your mouth.

you swirl your tongue around his bulbous tip, hollowing out your cheeks while you just barely begin to bob your head . his tip is sensitive as it begins twitching in your mouth.

you decide to take him deeper , your cheeks remain hollowed as you start sucking him off while pretty moans dance off of his tongue. the way he sounds is so fucking angelic, you feel yourself getting unbelievably wet , your heat pooling in your panties.

you swallow around his girth , making him buck his hips into you. your throat contracts around sunoo's dick and you hum , vibrations traveling from the back of your straight into his cock, making him moan louder than before. he throws his head back and grinds his hips into your face, making you deep throat him.

your eyes begin to water , but that doesn't stop you. one of your hands move to his balls , playing with them.

the way your hand grips his balls while you take him deep into his throat , your tongue rubbing up against his sensitive vein on the underside of his dick all makes him feel overwhelmed. sunoo's hand comes to the back of your head , gripping a handful of hair and forcing you down onto him further to where you choke around his length, tears falling down your cheeks while you breathe in through your nose .

"f-fuck baby, m' gonna cum. just like that pretty, take my cock" you feel anger at his words. you were the one who was supposed to talk him through it , you were supposed to be the one dominating him.

you look up at him through your eyelashes , his Adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallows his groans.

you feel his dick twitch in his mouth, his balls contracting under your fingers and just before he can finish down your throat

you rips his hand from your hair and detach from his dick with a wet pop.

you stand up off your knees, sunoo's eyes flinging open and meeting with yours looking down at him. his shoulders heave up and down, his eyes holding an emotion of disbelief.

"I-i was so close , baby" he whines in shock. you coo at his words , leaning down to his level and grabbing his cheeks roughly in your hands.

"you wanna cum baby? wanna cum for me sweet?" he doesn't say anything , he doesn't even move as your free hand comes to his hard cock , one of your fingers rubbing up against the slit of his tip. he hisses under your touch , a whine leaving his mouth as you toy with him.

"hmm, so sensitive" your eyes move down to look at his dick, precum leaking from his head mixed with your saliva runs down his dick and balls to coat the couch under him.

"aww , look at the mess you made love" you coo at him once more.

his eyes look down to look at the mess below you. his eyes widen once more , not understanding how and why the fuck you're acting like this - but not quite complaining.

you let go of his face and quickly strip yourself from the shirt you're wearing , your soaked underwear following right after .

sunoo watches your actions in amusement , his face red with small hints of embarrassment. you look at him before roughly grabbing his hair , forcing his head back as you begin to sit on his lap.

he groans under you, a smirk on his lips while you crawl on top of him. your free hand grabs his dick and aligns it with your pulsating, wet pussy, his tip pressing up against you.

sunoo's hushed moan rings in your ears as you make eye contact, your hand still tangled in his hair. you lean down so your face hovers right above his , your lips touching but not quite in a kiss.

your breath fans his face as you speak, your eyes low.

"how bad do you want it pretty?" you ask him in a low voice. it takes sunoo a moment, a battle going on in his mind before speaking.

"so bad.." he speaks shamefully, his eyes not leaving yours. you smile, but its not enough.

"beg for it." you demand , but much to your avail , he doesn't comply.

"god you're so fucking cute,,, but im gonna have to politely decline" its his turn to smirk. just before he thinks he's won, your hips slam down onto his cock, your ass bouncing as you make contact with his thighs.

"oh good god fuck-" sunoo groans underneath you. your hand doesn't leave his hair as his eyes fling closed, his hands coming to your hips in order to grip you tightly.

you don't move , not even an inch.

your lover feels your walls convulse around him, fluttering so prettily as you sit on his shaft.

small groans leave his lips in protest, but not quite forming words.

his hips attempt to rut into yours, but you keep your ground , forcing your body to stay on his.

he starts squirming instead , his hands trying to get you to move, so you do.

your hips grind into him painfully slow , but not enough to help your boyfriend who moves around pathetically underneath you.

an idea lights up in your mind and you follow it. your hips rise up and you hear sunoo sigh in relief under you. his tip almost slips out of your sopping hole and just before it can, you slam back down onto his cock fast.

and you don't move again.

your body doesn't make any advances once as you sit back down onto him again, his dick twitching inside you. your warm, gummy walls squeeze him once more, milking his cock so sweetly.

"oh my fucking god please- can't-" he cuts himself off, not allowing himself to finish his sentence.

it takes everything inside you to not move- to stay right where you are on top of him. goosebumps arise on his skin and he bites his lip. you lower your face down to his ear and whisper into it, your breath hitting his skin

"c'mon baby, give in. let me make you cum angel. I know you want it so there's no use in running away" you bite his ear lobe and begin slowly grinding against him again, his dick ever so slightly moving inside you. he doesn't move or say anything, so you force yourself to clench around him the most you can, earning sunoo's face to contort into one of pleasure as his legs gently thrash around under you.

"fuck- please. n-ngh I ca-cant take it anymore please make me cum- s-so good please please please... I-ill do any-anything you want I ff-fuck f-uck I can't..." sunoo plays right into your hands, your eyes widening in excitement and you feel like squealing

"such a good boy" you let go of his hair and place your hands on either side of his head, gripping the couch as you begin to bounce on his cock. sunoo's moans begin to pick up volume , which then turn into whimpers and whines that create the prettiest melody that only fuels your ego further.

your breasts bounce at your rhythm into his face, his hands coming to your back to grip onto your skin , his nails digging light red marks. you throw your head back in ecstasy, your mouth parted to release breathy moans. your pussy clenches around his cock, fluttering like a butterfly as you fuck yourself.

"you're so pathetic , letting me use you as my own personal fuck toy" you degrade him , earning yourself another pretty mewl from him

"look at me when I fuck you" you grab is face, squeezing his cheeks as his eyes snap open at your command. his fucked out eyes meet yours , sweat glistening on his forehead and dripping down the side of his face- his cheeks the prettiest shade of red you've ever seen.

the sound of skin slapping and moans echos off the walls of the house. you lean down to the junction between the base of his neck and his shoulder , licking a stripe from his collarbone and up behind his ear. sunoo's body shivers , his whines picking up volume. your breasts press up against his front, his cold body makes your nipples hard as the fabric of his shirt stimulates your nipples.

"you submitted to me so easily sweetheart, such a pathetic thing you are, begging me to use you like a god damn slut" you whisper in his ear, one of your hands coming down to slip under his shirt to trail to his nipple, grabbing it inbetween your fingers and pinching it roughly.

his body thrashes under you, his hips bucking forwards to fuck unto yours. you feel the coil in your stomach form , the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching.

you squeeze him tighter , the way you're riding him has him rolling his eyes into the back of his skull , his loud whines turning into incoherent begs and mewls.

"g-gon' cum, wan' cum pl-plea-se" he begs for release. you pout at his words, a mental war happening between yourself in your head before you speak

"hmm, who do you belong to baby? what are you?" you ask, your rhythm never faltering , your hips experticely grinding into him. his cock kisses your cervix every time you spasm down onto him, making you arch your back and curl into your boyfriend.

"you, I b-belong to you mo-mommy please.. slut, m’ your slut, wan- cum please please please-"

"cum for mommy baby, let go inside me sweet boy" he obeys you, his cock twitching before shooting white ropes of his cum deep inside your tummy. you let go of his face and he instantly latches onto you, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around your frame in a hug bringing your chest to his face- burying himself in your skin.

you feel his warm cum inside you, pushing you over the edge as you cream around his cock with one final bounce , your ass meeting his thighs in a loud smack.

sunoo grips onto you for dear life , coming down from his high as you do yours.

it takes a moment for the both of you to catch your breaths , your bodies pressed together exchanging sweat and bodily fluids. sunoo lifts his head to look into your eyes , his cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. you look down at him with a soft smile, his dick softening inside you.

sunoo goes to lean back, but you wrap your arms around his frame, locking him in place.

he looks at you in confusion as you slowly start grinding down onto him once more, earning you a pleasure-filled hiss to escape passed his lips.

"you think im done with you? that's hilarious.."

"get on your fucking knees."

#⊹ ⋆꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹#girlblog ♡#kim sunoo #enhypen sunoo #sunoo #sunoo x readee smut #sunoo x y/n #enha sunoo #sunoo x reader #sunoo smut #kim sunoo x reader #kim sunoo x you #kim sunoo smut #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader smut #enhypen x reader

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fawnhunter · 4 months ago

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cregan stark aka mr attitude adjustment.

sometimes cregan needs to check himself, and make sure ur good too

this is part of a series which at the moment also includes benjicot blackwood. if there's anyone you'd like to see done next please let me know! general NSFW content warning, talk of impregnation.

lalala cregan stark lalala tom taylor...can i just preface this by saying he causes the ultimate brain rot. i look at him and my brain just goes " big man in pelts and amour big man in pelts and-" anyway!

to me cregan stark is the physical embodiment of non sexual dominance. i mean we all know how well the men of the north treat their women, like they are queens even if they wear the crown or not. and being with the lord of winterfell himself only makes things better. He walks into a room and he demands control and attention, and when people see you his pretty little wife hanging off his arm it only makes him feel that much more powerful.

back to the n.s.d thing, lets just says he's a natural "father" figure. i can see him falling for someone who needs some... light correcting... are u following me. finding love with someone who may be a bit mouthy. who isn't afraid to look him in the face and disagree with him, to offer a different opinion from the other daft cunts int he room. someone who will watch him train, who will watch him knock new coming knights onto the ground without flinching away.

i just think he would find excitement in someone with a little fight in them. someone he can back into a corner with his body mass alone, looking down his nose at you no matter how much to try to stand tall in front of him. staring you down into submission until you don't have a peep left in you, giving him the talking space to tell you how exactly things are going to go from here on out. [nsfw]

its hard to imagine actual angry sex with cregan, a man made of honor like that would never try and apologize with his cock before he does so with his words. however, i can imagine jealous, possessive, and passionate sex with cregan after his honor towards you has been tested. maybe someone eludes to you having an hard time producing heirs, suggesting someone else. or maybe they have the audacity to marry you off or send you away for some sort of gain for winterfell. all of a sudden there's knocking on ur chamber doors, and ur being pushed into ur room instead of opening the door properly.

from there the evening existed entirely of hot and heavy breathing accompanied by his harsh grip moving along ur skin. he touches you with purpose, like he's trying to leave some sort of trace of him on ur skin. teeth biting into ur neck, the feeling similar to that of a wolfs fangs leaving bruises on ur skin after a harsh nip. if it was up to him he would've torn ur shift away from ur body and throw it into the fire, leaving you bare before his eyes for the rest of time. his war torn hands run up along whatever parts of you he can reach. his touches are desperate in the way he pushes you into the chaise, in way too much of a hurry to move both of you to the bed it seems. fingers prepping ur sweet cunt while muttering words of owners ship and adoration into ur neck. his hair tickles ur skin as you begin to claw at the part of him you can. its clumsy and desperate, the kind of intercourse where you know there's something he's trying to get off his chest but he just doesn't have the words to say it. its when he finally sheathes himself inside of you that he tells you all about the lords who dared to speak of you to his face. heavy girth pumping in and out of you while his voice gets louder and louder, crying out ur name over the sounds of lilted moans. making sure all the lords and ladies down the hall know that you won't be going anywhere. especially away from him.

this is my first work for cregan i love him so much that wolf of a man. my ask box is always open tbh i love to yap especially abt hotd

#hotd #hotd smut #hotd imagine #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan fanfiction #cregan x you #house of the dragon #hotd headcanons #cregan stark fanfic #chatterboxclaire

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youryanderedaddy · 11 months ago

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Tw: female reader, nsfw, m!sub to m!dom, con to dub-con/non-con, slight degradation, hinted baby trapping My Ko - fi <3

When you and Gerald started hooking up, you didn't think much of it. Sure, it was fun to play around with your high - school enemy turned academic rival now that both of you were in the same old prestigious college. And you would be lying if you said that it didn't stroke your ego to have the man who used to underestimate you all your childhood pussy drunk and wrapped around your little finger. But nowadays he was just acting off - even for his nerdy oddball self.

Before he used to feel so nervous around you, cheeks growing hot at your light - hearted touch. Your rival used to let you lead - with your body, with your eyes keeping him down, groaning underneath you as you rode him to overstimulation. He always broke beautifully, crying out your name as your heat milked him dry over and over again. He was quite cute like that, moaning obscenely, happy to let you use him as a stress toy.

But slowly things started to change. As university work kept piling up and the once friendly environment turned hostile and competitive, your fuck buddy caved to the pressure. His clear green eyes muddied, turning gray - and his fist would wrap around your hair unprompted, pulling instead of caressing. His kisses got desperate, aggressive - he wasn't trying to please you, but devour you completely. Even his tongue, once so sweet and wanton, turned sharp and degrading.

"Like that, little slut?" Gerald would hiss in your ear while taking you from behind - only stopping to slap your ass when you didn't nod quickly enough. "Just like I thought." He would smirk, and it reminded you of that stupid self satisfied grin he used to do in the past when he managed to beat you at something. "I should have known you were only good for one thing." He'd keep going, egging himself on as he thrust into you roughly.

You, for one, didn't care. In a way you even liked the change in him - it was new and exciting to let him take control and ruin you for once. You just needed to take off some steam - you could play both the master and the slave, the dominant and the submissive; as long as he made you cum your brains out, you were content enough.

The thing was, this change was too sudden to be organic or born out of desire. The shift in his behavior had been too frantic, too emotional - and the trigger seemed to be you once again. You two had just started a new course together - perhaps the most important one in your career so far. You were tasked with a big project and you were making a lot of progress - so much so that your professor had tried to find you a start-up sponsor, something most students weren't granted unless they were close to graduating. Gerald didn't like that - although he didn't make it known at first.

The next time you met him, he insisted you go to his place. It was your first time stepping foot inside his den - which was, frankly, equally exciting and nerve - wrecking.

He greeted at you at the door - said his roommate won't be coming back today, so you have the whole flat to yourselves. Your rival had even cooked dinner for you along with your favourite dessert. The whole romantic atmosphere made you feel uncomfortable - you had never seen Gerald as anything more than some quick weekend fun, but your well mannered nature prevailed and you didn't say anything.

Eventually he got you laying on his small creeking bed, naked and tipsy off cheap wine. You were giggling when your lips met - his tasted like whiskey and cigarettes, although he didn't really smoke. There was something weird in the air tonight, but you were too drunk and horny to figure out what exactly.

Gerald started fucking into you with slow precision, making sure to hit your sweet spot - licking the tears off your cheeks as you cried out in pleasure.

"You feel like Heaven." He whispered, burying his head in your neck, his nose tickling your sensitive skin. "And you smell so good. So perfect for me." The man kept blabbering. His words began to sober you up - there were nothing like his initial boyish whimpers or the degrading praise he'd shower you in nowadays. This felt... genuine. Rehearsed. Somehow it made your skin crawl.

"You're too fucking pretty for your own good." He murmured to himself, bottoming out just to push himself all the way inside you - making you whine pathetically. You couldn't even think properly when he was making you feel so much. "Is that how you got that sponsorship, baby?" The man cooed at you, cupping your cheek - voice dropping dangerously. "Did you spread your legs for Mr. Smith like a nasty little whore? Hm? Is your dignity so cheap you're willing to do anything to climb the ladder now?"

He was rubbing his tip along your slit, teasing you in just the right way - but even the electric joints of pleasure weren't enough to numb the pain his words had caused you.

"What do you mean? I've never done anything like that!" You stated defensively, pushing at his chest - but he didn't bulge. "We've known each other since forever. You should know better to than to throw such baseless accusation. I'm capable - I'd never sink so low t–

He didn't wait for you to finish, driving into you with mad ferocity, eyes almost black now.

"I know. I know!" Your rival screamed as if possessed by a madman - then gripped your shoulders tightly, shaking you to your core. "But I don't need you to be capable. I don't need you to be smart or strong or ambitious." His nails were digging into your flesh, but you didn't dare complain. "I just need you to be mine."

You opened your mouth, ready to confront him - to ask him what the fuck was going on, whether this was even real, or just a cruel joke on his part. But you couldn't because in the next moment you felt his warm seed filling you up so deep it dripped down your thighs. You closed your eyes, terrified. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't be coming inside you when he knew fully well that you weren't on the pill. Fuck.

"All mine."

#yandere #yancore #yandere smut #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere male x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader

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depravitycentral · 4 months ago

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Demon Slayer Dick Headcannons ft. the Demons

TW: yandere, mentions of non-con, kidnapping, excessive talk about balls and cum, breeding, cumplay, MDNI

Featuring: Muzan Kibutsuji, Kokushibou, Douma, Akaza, Gyutaro

The first thing you’ll notice when you first see him nude is how perfectly and pristinely groomed he is. There’s not a hair out of place; his skin is perfectly smooth along his navel, happy trail meticulously waxed on a regular basis to keep himself clean and presentable. (Presentable for you, of course, though he’d never admit it, because although you don’t really have the option of rejecting him, it still makes him feel better to know that he looks as good as possible.) He’s even anal about shaving his balls, too – making sure that everything is as perfect as possible. His navel and v-line are absolutely drool-worthy; muscle sharp enough to be defined under your fingertip when you touch him, lines seeming to point directly towards the pale, slender cock hanging between them. He’s thoroughly average in size – a solid five or so inches with moderate girth, his tip rather bulbous and a rich, flush pink color. He has a tendency to produce a lot of precum, beads practically oozing out as he watches you with those sharp, intense eyes. The only sign you’ll get that he’s even remotely aroused by you is just how painfully swollen his tip becomes, just how wet and sticky his slacks become as he watches you touch yourself, thighs squirming and your face feeling warm because he’s just staring, not even bothering to touch himself.

He's not very physically sensitive, but Muzan becomes extremely engrossed into whatever scenario or dynamic he’s forced you into during sex. He’s always in charge, of course, the dominant figure, but he finds himself becoming monumentally more sensitive and effected by your touch when you’re in physically submissive positions; on your knees while he stands before you, all your clothing stripped off to reveal your bare form while he’s only unzipped his slacks and his cock’s pulled out, a hand already buried into your hair as he forces you to lick and drool along his length. When you’re on your knees with your ass poised in the air, face pressed against the mattress as he smacks at you, watching your cheeks bounce with ever harsh thrust as he degrades you and calls you just a toy to fuck. There’s something about being able to see his cock physically entering you and seeing the way you react to it that makes him hurtle closer to his orgasm, the pleasure making his head spin a bit and his composure wane ever so slightly, enough so that if you were to listen hard, you’d hear him very, very quietly mutter your name in pleasure. It takes him a moderate amount of time to reach his orgasm, though he prefers to prolong the experience for as long as possible and will intentionally edge himself so that he can keep watching you slobber on his cock, so that he can keep fucking into you, so that he can keep feeling you you you. His cum is runny and an off-white, creamy color. He doesn’t produce a huge amount, but it’s always hot, the heat feeling uncomfortable on your skin. (And reminding you that he’s not human, because what human could produce cum that warm?) He’s not especially vocal when he’s orgasming, but you’ll notice that he always lets out a signature grunt right as he lets go, his teeth bared and his eyes fluttering shut, hips bucking seemingly without his control as he pushes himself into you deeper, harder, further.

His favorite way for you to touch his cock is when you’re worshipping it. His ego absolutely must be stroked during sex – he wants you to recognize that you’re inferior to him, and having you praise him and give him such lewd attention gets his head and cock swelling. He likes when you get particularly depraved with the worship – the more dehumanizing, the better. He wants you to rub his tip along the outline of your lips as you kneel for him, his fist tucked under his chin as he sits back in the leather chair, watching you with eyes like a hawk as you try to please him. He wants you to kiss the tip, then drag it along your cheekbones. Nudge it with your nose, let your tongue loll out and lick at him, even trace down your jugular and around a nipple. He wants his precum smeared absolutely everywhere on your body, and he wants you to thank him for it, your voice airy and light, admiring and loving. He wants you to kitten lick him and suckle at his tip, big doe eyes flicking up to meet his gaze and immediately averting it, bashfulness written across your face that makes Muzan’s lip curl up and his hips twitch. He wants you to stay still and play with your clit while he grasps himself right at the base, smacking his shaft against your cheek and sneering down at you, going on about how you’re really just a little whore, aren’t you? You enjoy being treated like dirt, don’t you? He wants you to drool on him as you take him down your throat, sucking hard enough to hollow your cheeks and moaning around him, the vibrations making his eyes flutter closed. He wants you to lick and suck at his balls, telling him how good he tastes, thanking him over and over for letting you touch him. He wants you to show him that you know your place – and when he makes you close your eyes and open your mouth wide while he fists his cock and holds your head in place, you’d better tell him thank you, sir as rope after rope of hot, runny cum splatter onto your face. Maybe then he’ll consider fucking you – only if you’ve behaved.

Kokushibou’s cock is long, with hardly any veins decorating the length. When he’s hard it curves ever so slightly upwards, allowing him the perfect angle to brush against the spongy spot that makes you scream when he’s got you pinned underneath him. He’s on the skinnier side, your fingers very comfortably wrapping around his girth, but what he lacks in width he makes up for with just how deeply he can reach inside of you. It’s nearly painful, really, because when he presses in as far as your cunt will let him, tears sting at your eyes and you’re gasping because it feels like he’s splitting you in two, the pressure too much and the feeling of being full nearly overwhelming. His balls droop a bit, looking heavy to the touch and a much deeper red color than the rest of him, always drawing your attention. The color is so rich that in certain lights, namely moonlight, they almost look purple. When he’s hard, they’ll oftentimes throb and pulse, particularly when his patience begins running out and the desperation to fuck you becomes too strong to ignore. And even when he’s fucking you, if you pay attention you’ll feel the way they sporadically clench against you, his balls indicating exactly what he’s feeling and how close to his orgasm he is. His cock is genuinely hard – there’s hardly any give when you squeeze at it, feeling so solid and firm that when he slaps it lightly against your clit before he pushes inside it nearly hurts. And once it’s inside, it bullies its way past your walls, muscles being parted and molded to his shape because he views your cunt as his. (Just as he views his own cock as partially yours, as well.)

Kokushibou is moderately sensitive, though he’s particularly weak to the feeling of your walls. He enjoys the sensation of your hand, mouth, breasts, thighs, and everything else you offer to him, but he’ll always preference your pussy over anything else. It’s partially based in traditional ideas about what sex is for and a weakness for seeing the way you respond to his cock. He loves the way you go dumb the moment he starts thrusting into you – your mouth parts into a permanent gasp, fingers grasping at the sheets underneath you, back arching up off the ground and your nipples perking into hard little buds that he can’t help but stare at. It doesn’t take him too terribly long to orgasm, and the moment you start clenching down on him with any sort of regularity, you’ll notice the way his thrusts start to get sloppy and uncoordinated, the rhythm faltering and his hair covering his upper eyes as he tries to regain his composure, unable to let the moment end quite yet. You’ll always be able to tell when he’s orgasming because his hips momentarily freeze up and a very small, slight shiver wracks his whole body before he’s letting rope after rope spurt from his tip. He prefers to finish inside you, but on the rare occasion when you’re using your hands on him, you’ll see the way his cum shoots out in perfect little arches, landing in puddles against your chest or fist and drying fairly quickly. His cum is oddly fragrant – it doesn’t smell good or bad necessarily, but the scent is extremely masculine and you’ll quickly learn to associate it with him. (This is the primary way you learn that he’s grown a penchant for humping at your sleeping pillow, the same familiar scent imbued into the fabric that you lay your head on each night.) His refraction period is rather long, so it’s unlikely you’ll get more than a single round out of him on any given sexual encounter, but after a long while of being stuck by his side, you’ll learn that if you request it of him, he’ll gladly bring you to your high a few times over with his fingers and mouth even after he’s finished himself. He won’t explicitly offer it for fear of both rejection and his own pride, but you’ll notice the way his semi-flaccid, rather pathetic looking cock twitches at your request, an obvious sign that he very much wants to please you.

His more traditional views of sex and intimacy are showcased in the way that he prefers to fuck you in simple missionary style. He likes the simplicity of the position, and the way you feel in his position makes him quietly grunt under his breath and throw one of your legs up over his shoulder. The new angle makes your walls feel incredibly tight, the sensation making his fingertips grip onto your thighs just a hair too tight, leaving finger shaped bruises behind. He’ll pin you down, spitting onto his hand and giving himself a few good pumps, before lining himself and pushing inside slowly, all six eyes intently watching your face and seeing the way your eyes roll to the back of your head. Kokushibou, despite coming off as rather cold and indifferent in most aspects of your relationship, is actually extremely in touch and sensitive to your perception of him – he wants you to like him, maybe even love him, and to see the way you respond so quickly and easily to his cock makes him giddy with pride. The way you clench down on him spurs him to fuck into you with fuller, deeper strokes, the constant stimulation against his sensitive skin making his fight back the orgasm that’s steadily building in his navel. Sometimes he’ll even throw both of your legs over his shoulders, your cunt feeling even more tight with the new angle, loving the way you gasp and claw at him, his name a mantra on your lips as his thrusts get a little more animalistic. Having you underneath him like that helps quell his possessiveness – the knowledge that no one else will ever get to touch you like this brings him hurtling towards his orgasm, and although it’s very slight, as the first few ropes of cum flood into your cunt, you’ll be able to hear him lowly growl an almost unintelligible mine under his breath.

He’s solidly average in nearly every way – average length with an average girth, just a truly utilitarian cock. It’s mostly pale, with the tip being a softer pink color that grows darker by the second when he’s hard. What makes him thoroughly not average, however, is that his length is almost always extremely cold to the touch. The skin is always cool, not quite feeling like ice but certainly unnatural against your fingertips. It’s an odd sensation – when he’s fucking you, the shivers that run up and down your spine aren’t just from the way he’s expertly rolling his hips and managing to hammer into that one spot that makes you see stars. Rather, it’s the temperature difference, how the sensation of something so hard and cold inside of you gets your toes curling and the softest gasp slipping off your tongue because it all just feels so very strange. But Douma absolutely loves the way it catches you so off guard, knowing that even if you’ve slept with men before him (a thought that makes something ugly stir in his gut), surely no one else had made you feel quite like this. He’s not the best with matinence, preferring to occasionally trim when he has the time, but he doesn’t expect you to be hairless either. He likes the buildup of hair, actually, because Douma loves to see the way your combined slick and cum settles against the hair, clumping it together and leaving a mark of the two of you together. (Often times, he’ll delay showering or cleaning himself after sleeping with you simply so that he can keep the scent of you on him with easy access. He’ll dip a finger down and swipe it through his pubic hair, bringing the finger up to smell and letting his eyes close and a rather boyish smile settle onto his lips, other palm already cupping at and rubbing the bulge forming in his pants.)

Douma isn’t sensitive. Once his obsession with you develops, he stops sleeping with other cult-followers, but the damage is already done. He’s slept with dozens of human women and men, and as a result his body has grown used to constant stimulation and pleasure by many different hands. It takes a long while for him to orgasm, the combination of his stamina and experience combining together to make your job much more difficult when Douma simply orders you to get him off. The one thing that consistently helps bring him closer to the edge, however, is when you use a significant amount of pressure against his cock. When you’re pumping your fist up and down his length, squeeze just a bit tighter than what seems correct and he’ll hiss, those eyes of his shining as he tells you to keep going, his hips bucking and thrusting up in time. When you’ve got him against your tongue, suck as hard as you can while you run the tip of your tongue along the underside of the shaft and you’ll feel his whole body sag in pleasure, the small little giggle-lick sigh he lets out letting you know that your actions have effected him. And when he’s fucking you, clench down on him sporadically and you’ll notice the way his cool, unbothered tone and expression grow just a hair darker, his voice getting a bit gruffer and his eyebrows drawing tight as he fucks into you meanly, like he’s got something to prove. It’ll still take him a long while to get off, but once he finally reaches his high, you’ll be rewarded with a very copious amount of thick, glue-like cum that will plug you so full that you’ll be leaking it around his length. It’s oddly sweet, the consistency smooth against your tongue. This is particularly lucky because Douma absolutely loves to finish on your face, loving the way you look all tainted and ruined and pathetic with his cum smeared across your cheeks and lips, clumped up in your eyelashes, even staining your hair. Cute.

His favorite way for you to touch his cock is when you simply open your mouth as wide as you can go and let him use you. Fucking you face is one of his favorite past times – there’s something about the power trip that drives Douma wild, the visual of you on your knees for him while his nails dig against your scalp and he physically moves your head up and down his length like you’re some kind of human fleshlight gets blood rushing straight between his legs. He can be rather unassuming in bed at times, but Douma absolutely hates to give up control, and having you so willingly let him do as he pleases with your mouth makes him giddy over both the sensation of your tongue and throat against his skin but also at your complete and utter submission to him. He likes watching the way your lips pucker around his girth, the way his cock disappears and reappears as he keeps up the motions. He likes the sight of your spit against his skin, reflecting the candlelight as he thrusts his hips forward to meet the motions of your head. He likes when you gag, the way your throat closes up making him moan lowly and only push deeper, wanting to hear more of the choking sound you let out. He likes knowing that he has an effect on you, enjoying the way your body responds to him. He likes how you desperately try to control yourself, to stop yourself from choking and pulling back, watching you fight your instincts because you don’t want to displease him. It strokes his ego and has his cock swelling inside your throat, and when he finally, finally reaches his orgasm, he’ll pull back without warning, your lips releasing his tip with a wet, lewd pop noise. He'll smack his tip against your cheeks a few times, eyes fluttering closed as his fist pumps up and down his fist so quickly that it’s a blur, until suddenly you feel slightly cold cum spraying across your face, Douma’s airy moans and laughter ringing in your ears as he strokes and strokes and strokes so that every last drop lands on your pretty, human face. Afterwards, as you’re still on your knees and he’s standing before you, he’ll tell you to kiss it, dear, insisting you press your lips against his tip in one final thank-you for giving you his cum, a commodity you should be truly grateful for.

He’s a solid five inches with moderate girth. The base is thicker, tapering down near the tip but still significant enough to feel when he slips inside of you. The thick, bold lines decorating his body continue down between his legs, with a single line running the length of his cock on either side. A single vein follows each line, sensitive to the touch and making Akaza grunt when you run your tongue along them. It’s pale, and even his tip is rather pale – the softest, baby pink that only grows to a darker red color right on the brink of his orgasm. He keeps himself neatly trimmed, the pink hairs standing out against pale skin and dark lines, tickling your nose when he’s pushing himself down your throat. His balls are low-set, nearly swinging with every step he takes, and though not terribly sensitive, Akaza loves when you pay attention to them and squeeze them a bit harshly. It takes a bit to arouse him, and you can actually watch and feel in real time as he grows hard, the process a bit slow but entertaining to watch because it’s like you can see him start to grow restless, his entire body starting to grow flushed and hot because he needs you. He’s already clingy and constantly trying to be in your space, but once he’s turned on and aroused this only increases, his hands in constant motion as he touches every spot he can reach, groping and squeezing and kneading because wants every part of you in his palm.

He's not terribly sensitive, taking a while to reach his high. His orgasms are long, though, lasting easily twenty or more seconds – once the pleasure peaks, his jaw drops and his lips part, eyes squeezed shut and his eyebrows scrunched together as he gasps each breath. He loses control of his hips in the moment, fucking into your cunt, ass, mouth, or wherever else like a madman, too lost in his pleasure to register your gags or pleas for him to slow down. And for the entirety of his orgasm, cum drools from his tip – it’s a constant flow, thick pearls forming and landing in big, fat splats against your skin or inside you. If given the preference, Akaza always picks finishing inside of you – he knows he can’t actually get you pregnant, but the prospect of breeding you is attractive nonetheless, and so he’ll try to finish every time plugging you up, letting out that half-gasp half-moan as he rides out his high. He’s so insistent on finishing inside that when you’re using your mouth or hand on him, he’ll pull away at the last moment, hands moving faster than you can keep up with as he pins you down, spreading your legs and nudging his tip into you, letting out a shuddering groan as he lets go just in time, cum flooding your cunt while you stare in shock at just how quickly he’d manhandled you. It’s a preference, sure, but with the way he start muttering under his breath ‘m gonna come inside, let me come inside, need to come inside over and over, it feels more like some sort of carnal need rather than a mere enjoyment.

Akaza’s favorite way for you to touch his cock is when he’s got you folded in half, pretty body bent into the tightest mating press you’ve ever experienced. He likes the intimacy of the position; he can press every inch of his body against yours, making sure that he’s the only thing you can feel, see, hear, and taste. And god, the way your cunt feels makes him lose his fucking mind. You’re so tight like this – the angle making your walls clamp down on him even harder than normal, his tip brushing against that sensitive spot inside you again and again, the way your walls clench onto him like a vice only serving to push his hips faster, his thrusts getting harder and more animalistic. He likes that he can get as deep as possible in this position – he can press in so tightly that his balls are flush with the curve of your ass, every inch of himself buried inside of you, the feeling of your warmth and wetness surrounding him and making him grit his teeth in pleasure. He has a penchant for watching himself in this position – watching the way his cock appears and disappears inside of you, the ring of white sitting at the base making his balls clench. Seeing the way your cunt stretches for him makes him giddy, the sense of possessiveness he feels over you only growing with each thrust. He just likes the way you feel in this position – and how incredibly responsive you are when he finds that perfect angle, feeling you clench down and beg for him, almost as if you love him.

It’s just the slightest bit crooked, like it somehow got broken and didn’t quite heal right. It’s something that Gyutaro is initially embarrassed about, worried that you’ll think it’s strange or unappealing or – worst of all – painful, but he’ relieved to find out that it actually managed to fit inside of you perfectly, snugly rubbing against the sensitive parts of your cunt that leave you gasping his name and begging for more. The same spotted birthmarks decorate the length, sitting so prettily against his tan skin. The spots are more sensitive than the skin around them, and if you run a finger along them he’ll shiver a bit, teeth gnawing together as he stops himself from whining out again, please please please! It’s long, too – long enough to smack against his thigh a bit as he walks, the length sizable even when he’s completely flaccid. His tip is a dark, deep red-pink color, always swelling up to the size of a walnut, the skin wrinkled and sensitive and absolutely dripping in pre-cum. He produces enough that the inside of his pants have countless stains, wet splotches and patches always appearing on them every time he sees you and watches you go about your business. He’s not particularly good at keeping himself groomed, finding that the hair grows back much too quickly and unruly for shaving to be of any use, and although he’s self-concious about it at first, he eventually grows to not mind showing you his naked pelvis. The hair is dark and curly, and because there’s so much of it, the bottom half of his shaft and flushed tip are the only visible parts of him underneath the hair. His balls are extremely sensitive – any pressure or the slightest touch makes something akin to a whine fall from his lips, his hips immediately and uncontrollably jerking forward, his cock visibly throbbing in response because god, he needs to touch you so badly and won’t you just please let him fuck you? He promises he’ll be good, he’ll make you feel so good he promises he promises he promises…

He's almost comically sensitive. Having had no experience in his human years, Gyutaro finds himself painfully effected every time your fingertips brush against his skin. Even outside of his cock, he’s able to get shivers and grow aroused just from you touching his hands, brushing past his side, even feeling your breath against his cheek as you kiss him. He gets hard embaressingly easily, and he absolutely cannot hide it. The obvious tent in his pants is already difficult enough to conceal, but the way his entire body flushes red and he starts panting like some sort of dog makes it obvious what’s going on. And once you’ve got him nude before you, that sensitivity doesn’t go away – he’s shuddering the first time you wrap your fist around him, licking at his lips in nerves and excitement because god you feel better than his own bony hand. He’s like putty in your hands every time you touch his cock, really – he gets hazy, like a fog’s lifted over his brain, and all he can do is mindlessly reach out and grope you, to fuck into you and kiss and lick at you like a man possessed. Consequently, he doesn’t last very long – his orgasms are quick, and he has very little warning before they’re suddenly upon them. He has the decency to warn you, at least, a slurred and rushed ‘m c-coming falling past his lips as his eyes go wide, your name like a mantra as he shakes and spasms. He’s loud when he’s orgasming, nearly incoherent as the pleasure overwhelms him, but you’ll always be able to make out the vague sound of your name and what sounds like ‘thank you’. His cum is thin, almost watery, making it an absolute nightmare to clean up because it gets everywhere. Luckily, Gyutaro has a penchant for coming inside of you and down your throat - although the taste is rather bitter and makes you gag. But every time he pulls out and sees the white ooze out of your pretty, clenching hole, he can only gulp, already growing hard again and practically begging you to give him another round.

His favorite way for you to touch him is simply letting you grind on him. He knows he’s the one in control in your relationship, but there’s something so freeing and wonderful about giving up his power, about letting you take care of him and treat him so gently and sweetly that makes his heart race. He likes when he’s laying flat on his back, eyes staring transfixed up at you straddling his lap. He likes the way you look on top of him, the feeling of your thighs caging around his hips, and the pressure of your weight against his cock makes him gulp. He likes when you move in slow, sensual circles, the sway of your hips and the warmth of your cunt seeping through the thin layer of your panties against his cock. He likes when you keep a consistent rhythm, letting the pleasure build up and up, only for you to suddenly switch to grinding back and forth right as he’s on the edge, the change making him groan and arch his back ever so slightly. He likes giving you control, and the way you’re able to dictate the pressure against his cock keeps him guessing and keeps his pleasure ebbing and flowing – keeping him from orgasming much too quickly. He particularly likes when you’re grinding against him while he’s fully nude and you only have a measly pair of panties on – something about the skimpiness and the slight taboo gets him hot under the collar, balls clenching and unclenching against your ass as he watches the way the mix of his pre-cum and your slick wets the fabric of the panties. He just likes the intimacy of the moment, and if you were to reach down and play with his tip as you hips move and scoop? Well, you won’t be mad if he soils the pretty fabric of your panties, right? Don’t worry about washing them – he’ll keep them, and take care of it for you. Just give him a few days.

#yandere kny #kny smut #yandere demon slayer #_kny #_muzan kibutsuji #_kokushibou #_douma #_akaza #_gyutaro

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spencerreidenjoyer · 6 months ago

Text

stress relief | spencer reid x reader

wc: 3k, rating: explicit/18+

warning/tags: established relationship, face fucking, blowjobs, vaginal sex, submissive!spencer, whiny!spencer, insecure!spencer (just a little, more like awkward lol), confident (and insanely horny) fem!reader

a/n: i'm back with more pwp!! surprise!!! i have no excuse. i wrote this in about 2 days. i needed to get it out of my system i think this spencer (s3-4) is crazy and perfect and i need him. also thank you for 100 followers on this little reid blog of mine! i hope to keep writing more on here <3

(p.s: you can find this fic on ao3!)

When you get on your knees between Spencer’s legs, looking up at him with wide eyes that spell sin, Spencer knows he’s in for a wild ride.

“You’ve been working too hard, Spence,” you say, shaking your head, speaking like you’re talking about the weather and not like you have a hand on his crotch, steadily stiffening under your touch.

You watch Spencer’s throat bob as he gulps. He blinks quickly, once, twice. “Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so,” you hum, fingers already toying with the button of his work slacks. Spencer had gotten home late from work tonight, but was still fretting over the stacks of reports on his desk in his home office in the apartment you share. After dinner, you’d convinced him to lounge on the couch for a bit, instead of getting back to work – leading you to where you are right now. “I think you need to relieve some of your stress.”

Almost like he’s nervous, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “What are you thinking?”

“Orgasms release endorphins which contribute to stress relief, no?” You parrot the fun fact Spencer’s told you countless times, a small smirk on your face. As if your hand gently palming his cock hasn’t made your intentions more than obvious.

His eyebrows raise. “Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

“Wow, you could at least sound a little more enthusiastic about your girlfriend giving you head.” You deadpan, but you pop the button of his slacks anyway.

Spencer squeaks. “Sorry. I– I really want you to blow me.”

“I know, darling,” you coo, pulling down the zipper of his fly slowly, feeling the hardness of his cock pressed against it. His underwear is a bright pink when it gets exposed. You chuckle to yourself. “Cute."

Spencer flusters, laughing nervously. “Oh my God. I kind of forgot I was wearing those. Haha. Sorry."

“Baby,” you frown slightly. You’re not mad, not in the slightest, just amused with how he’s acting. You place your hands on his thighs, pausing with any of the action. “Why are you sorry? I think you’re so cute, you know.”

“My head isn’t on straight right now,” Spencer sighs, shaking his head. “I just want– Like, it’s going to be good for me, obviously, because you’re so good at this. I don’t need to want anything. I just– Want this to be good for you too.”

“It’ll be good for me if you stop overthinking it, Spence.” You smile. “It’s chill. Also, when do I not enjoy sucking your cock?”

Spencer covers his face with his hand, but you see him smile, laughing to himself. “You’re so crude, y’know? But I suppose you do really enjoy sucking me off.”

“I know.” You chirp. “And I do."

Your hand is down Spencer’s pants before he can even tell you to go ahead, but he knows that you know he wants it. Spencer hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, taking them off. His cock jumps up and you watch, fascinated with the obscenity of it all. Spencer’s cock curves up towards his stomach, reddening at the tip already.

You wrap your hand around his hardening cock, as you start to jerk him off. He lets out a high-pitched whimper, like he can’t control himself, and he cups a hand over his mouth. His eyes are wide as he stares down at you. You giggle, “It’s cute.”

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” Spencer says, his face a little red already.

You pout. “Come on, Spence. It’s really hot.”

His hand falls from his face to his lap, coming up to cup your cheek gently. “You like it?”

“You’re so sexy.” You nod. “Of course I like it. Now, make those noises for me again, pretty boy.”

Spencer squeaks as you tighten your grip around his cock, eyes fluttering shut as you stroke him. You work him up to full hardness – not that it takes very long for him to get there. You flick your thumb over the head of Spencer’s cock, tease into his slit where he’s steadily leaking already. His precome makes everything slick and sticky, easing the slide of your fist over his length.

Your eyes flit between Spencer’s face and his cock, marvelling at the growing mess in your hand and how his face is slowly but surely revealing his pleasure. He’s flushed, lower lip pulled in between his teeth, as you watch his chest rise and fall. His gaze pierces you, the intensity of how he looks sending shivers down your spine.

Knowing Spencer’s looking down at you, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, pressing it flat against the tip of his cock. Spencer lets out a strangled breath, eyes bugging out at the erotic sight of you between his legs. You wrap your lips around him, suckling gently on the head of his cock. You hope to make Spencer lose his mind like this. With the way he’s breathing heavily, lips parted as he takes in all of you, you think it’s working.

His whines are more frequent, accenting his hard breaths. You see how Spencer doesn’t know what to do with his hands, watch as he digs his nails into the flesh of his palms, and you instead hold him by his wrists to put his hands in your hair. The weight is comforting, and encourages you to sink down on his cock more. You take more than half of him into your mouth, but Spencer being… well-endowed meant that you often never were able to fit all of him in, unless you were in a particular mood.

The tip of Spencer’s cock hits the back of your throat, once it’s slid in. You gag at the intrusion, and Spencer lifts you off of him, slightly freaked out. “Are- Are you okay?”

“Baby, please,” you sigh, endeared but annoyed at the fact that he’s getting in the way of his own pleasure. “Trust me with this. Just focus on feeling good?”

Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, lips drawn into a little pout, but you nod to soothe his concerns. “Spencer, I want you to use me–” You stick your tongue out to lick at his length again, making him shudder. “–Just like this.”

“You want– You want me to…?” Spencer trails off, unsure if he’s picking up what you’re putting down.

“Fuck my face, Spencer,” you say bluntly, tired of flirting in circles. It’s fun flirting with Spencer, because it’s fun to fluster him when he isn’t expecting it, but right now, when he isn’t getting the hint, you need to lay it all out for him. “Use my mouth like a fleshlight. Whatever you want to do. Please.”

He inhales sharply, stunned at your explicitness. He pushes his hair back, out of his face, taking the time to process… everything. His gaze is tender, though, as he gently cups your cheek. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that. But if you don’t want it anymore, you– You have to let me know, okay?”

You smile up at him, pleased that he’s finally letting some of his inhibitions go, even if he still seems hesitant. You pat the side of his thigh thrice. “I’ll do that if it’s too much.”

“I love you.” Spencer says softly.

“I love you too, Spence.” You hum. “Now hurry up and fuck my face.”

“Jesus, you’re so crude,” Spencer laughs. He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Pulling back, he guides his cock to your mouth, the head of his cock pressing against the plush of your lips. His mouth is open when he looks at you like this. He whispers, “Fuck.”

You open your mouth to take him in, like you were before, sinking down inch by inch, until he’s comfortably settled in the back of your throat. Spencer doesn’t move to fuck your face yet, so you make the first move. You bob your head up and down on his length, making sure your mouth is wet and slick as you suck him off. He lets out a moan, hand fisted in your hair.

And here’s where it starts: You slow on his cock, and Spencer, finally taking what he wants, pushes your head down onto his cock for more. You gag slightly. Spencer pulls your head back up, pushes you back down. While you appreciate how much he cares about you, him putting his pleasure first in using you like this makes your toes curl.

Spencer’s cock in the back of your throat is not uncomfortable, not yet, but Spencer steels himself to fuck your mouth and you find your veins thrumming with adrenaline. Spencer’s first thrust is exploratory, cautious. He’s nervous, or it at least feels like it when he fucks into your mouth. You would tell him off, but your mouth is kind of occupied right now. Instead, you glance up at him, and hope that your gaze tells him to just fuck me.

One arm against the backrest of the couch, Spencer thrusts into your mouth again. He gasps. Chasing his own pleasure, his eyes flutter shut as he fucks your mouth. His thrusts are shallow, desperate, hurried, but his mouth falls open in stuttered, eager moans. He’s so gorgeous.

You’ve never heard anything so perfect, the way Spencer moans, the way he cries out your name. You press your legs together to stave off the arousal building between them. You feel like a mess, Spencer’s hand making a mess of your hair, Spencer’s cock making a mess of your mouth. You think spit is probably all over your chin right now, but he’d probably think you still look great anyway.

Spencer gasps, out of breath as he whimpers, “I’m– I’m close, I can’t–”

He fucks into your mouth once, twice more, before slumping back down onto the couch. There’s a slick, wet ‘pop’ as you pull off of Spencer, pouting slightly. “You know I’m happy to swallow, Spence.”

Spencer laughs, tired, and explains, “I know you do, dear. I just don’t think I have it in me to come more than once. And I really want to come inside of you.”

His words make you blush. Spencer doesn’t get too explicit too often, so hearing him say dirty things always turns you on. You reach up to wipe yourself clean, but Spencer’s already ahead of you with a tissue pressed to your face, gentle as he wipes your mouth and chin.

After cleaning you up, he helps you up off your knees and onto the couch. You’re both still clothed, sure, but Spencer’s boxers and pants have been pushed down to reveal his cock; you must be even more of a mess, hair rustled and face messy, and the desperation that makes itself clear at the sight of the both of you makes you giggle.

Spencer smiles at you. “What are you laughing about?”

“We must look insane right now,” you laugh. “We’re not even naked yet and we’re like this.”

“Well, I think you look beautiful,” Spencer says earnestly in a quiet voice, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear. Spencer’s touch is gentle, it always is, and especially in stark contrast to the way he’d fucked your face, just like you told him to. “My lovely girl.”

“Spence,” you purr, nuzzling into his hand as he cradles your face. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” Spencer’s answer is immediate, certain, and it makes you acutely aware of how turned on you are.

“I love you so much, and I really need you to fuck me right now.” You look up at him, watch as his face warms from serious to amused. You shift away from him slightly on the couch, but use the extra space to spread your legs. “Use this pussy, baby.”

Now, he presses his finger to his temple, shaking his head playfully. “Your mouth is filthy. You’re filthy.”

You grin. “Aww, Spence, at least tell me you like it!”

He leans forward to kiss you, hard and eager and desperate. You moan into the kiss, as his hand is pressed into the small of your back. You run your hand through his hair, where it’s starting to curl past the nape of his neck. When he pulls away, he says, looking deep into your eyes: “I like you. And your filthy mouth. Now let me fuck you.”

You giggle, wildly turned on as his long, deft fingers push your shorts and panties off. He kisses along your neck as he does so, then lays you back on the couch, and his thumb rubs circles into your inner thigh softly as he regards you, admires you. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“You are too,” you say, awed, as Spencer takes off his nerdy little button-up. His body is perfect – not skin-and-bones skinny, but there’s a healthy litheness to him that you appreciate, especially when you’re grabbing at him while he fucks you. “Want you right now.”

“I know,” Spencer hums soothingly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Come on, love.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch, slack-jawed, as he wraps a hand around himself. His eyes flutter shut as he strokes himself, but he quickly snaps himself back to reality: guiding his cock in between your legs. He presses the tip to your clit, messy and glistening with your slick, and rubs against you in circles. You moan, feeling a little pathetic as you rut your hips forward to find any more pleasure like this.

Now, he presses the head of his cock to your hole, teasing, pushing it in slightly before it slips back out and spreads more of your slick across the rest of your cunt. You whine, pouting up at Spencer. He coos at you, “Okay, okay.”

Finally, he’s settled against your hole, the blunt head of his cock pressing into you excruciatingly slowly. It’s exhilarating, feeling him feed his cock into your hole, feeling him stretch you open, feeling like you were made for each other. He holds your leg up so he can press up closer to you, feeling so full as he puts his cock inside of you.

“Spencer,” you moan when he stops moving. “Fuck me. Just like earlier.”

”Okay, love.” Spencer nods, trails his hand down your waist and hips, down your thighs. “My gorgeous girl.”

Spencer thrusts into you, the first one sending electric pleasure through your body. He always loves to do it like this, make love to you slowly, intensely rocking into you until you feel all his love. You always do, but you don’t want that tonight. He knows that’s not what you want tonight.

When Spencer starts fucking you, his hips have gained a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together obscenely. It’s so wet between you two, where he’s pressed inside you. He fucks you hard and fast, eyebrows furrowed as he chases his own high. He’s so fucking cute, even while naked and trying his best to make you feel just as good as he does. He’s panting and groaning, your own moans mixing in with his. He knows you want him like this, hard and fast and messy.

You can’t form a coherent sentence, only able to babble and cry out for Spencer, for more, and you cling onto his arms as he pounds into you. You’ve never felt Spencer like this before. Sure, he’s always eager to please, doing whatever makes you feel good, but him going so hard, just like this, just the way you want makes you feel so needy, the both of you feeding off of each other’s desperation. All you can focus on is Spencer’s skin touching yours, the in-out slide of his cock, the slapping of skin on skin, the wet, slick noises of his cock fucking in and out of you.

“Cumming, Spence, I’m cumming,” You cry out needily, desperately, and you moan when he presses his thumb to your clit. He flicks at your clit in rough, hurried little circles. The pressure is cruel but just what you need for your release, and your whole body shakes as you orgasm. The high is so good, a different type of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You clench around Spencer, your cunt like a vice grip on him. Moaning loudly, his hips are stuttering as he comes inside of you too. He fucks out whatever momentum’s left in him, but pulls out quickly and gently, because he knows how fast you get overstimulated afterward.

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth, then presses his lips to yours. The kiss is soft, sweet, tame, unlike the depravity you were engaged in before, and the juxtaposition makes your head spin. Spencer, who is usually such a sweet, soft guy, being able to fuck you so hard and fast until the couch was creaking underneath you. You suppose that’s what he’s capable of when you ask. You like it. You wonder what else you can ask him to do. You think he’d do it in a heartbeat, knowing him.

“That was amazing,” you giggle breathlessly. “Spence, you’re a madman.”

”For you, my dear,” Spencer smiles. “Anything for you.”

You snuggle into his side, resting your head on his chest as you lay on the couch. You’re both sticky and gross, but you’re sure Spencer will be more than happy to clean up later. Right now, you’re just pleased to be cuddling your boyfriend.

”So, do you feel less stressed out about work now?” You ask, after a moment of comfortable silence.

”Well, I certainly wasn’t thinking about work,” Spencer laughs. “You know, some sociologists believe stress can be caused by positive events too? I think you cause me stress, but it’s good stress.”

”Watch your mouth, genius,” you snark playfully. “You’re lucky you’re cute enough that I’d take being called a stressor a compliment.”

“I love you,” Spencer sing-songs.

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the stupid grin that forms on your face. “Yeah, yeah.”

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencerreidenjoyer writes #spencer reid #spencer reid x you

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