#stepford x reader

[driftd0ll]

afab gn house owner wears a different type of red shirt... tight crop top tee, braless, and low waist jorts!

I wanna see Curt & Rod, Stepford and maybe Mateo Manta's reactions?

*specially* Curt & Rod's...

*Especially* curt and rod’s!!! alsoni think this is my first time writing stepford? yay!

Dateables w/ a Different Kind of Red Shirt

warnings; nsfw/18+, not any actual sex ig but heavy make outs, groping, boners, mommy k.

That red shirt you seem to have a certain penchant for. It was a bright red cotton shirt, nothing special but you certainly wore it good! It was soft, not itchy or awkward in sizing, probably what drew you to it so much- Not to mention it went with so many different outfits.

What bothered so many in the house wasn't the shirt itself, and 'bothered' isn't so much the word as 'flustered', but the combined facts that you'd seemed to have something against wearing bras (especially around the house), and the fact that the shirt was tight. The way they can all feel your soft chest when you’re pushed against them, the lack of bra plus how thin the fabric is making for a dangerously arousing combination. Not to mention it’s cropped, the exposed midriff, the way the shirt sometimes rides up, exposing even more? It’s enough to drive a man crazy.

It's easy to think, but not so much when you have two of the most delicious looking tits pressed against your back as your beloved homeowner peeks out the window to watch some guy trying to serenade a girl who probably isn't even home. Curt plays cool, well, tries to! He acts suave until it's actually happening, to which his eyes dilate, and his usually sassy remarks are becoming stuttered before Rod shakes his head in disappointment at his friend's pitiful attempt. Curt already has a major thing for your chest, the first thing he eyes when you wear something a little tighter than usual, when you come out the bathroom wrapped in a towel- When you're fucking, the first thing his hands and lips are attached to are your pretty nipples, and seeing them hard against your shirt? He just wonders if the marks he's made the last time are still showing, or he'll need to do a quick refresher.

Rod, despite his obvious disapproval for his friend's weakness to your tits, isn't actually much better. More forward about it? Maybe, he's hard as a rock when you slide beside him on the kitchen counter, tits pressed against him through your shirt. It's sinful, and he knows you're doing it on purpose, he just can't prove that you are! Either way, it usually ends with him palming your clothed breasts while sucking on your tongue, your nails scraping down his skin. One hand’ll slide down your exposed midriff before coming up again, his shockingly warm hand sliding under your shirt to expose both of your pretty tits- He may even slide your shirt up wholly, exposing your to the cold air, not only as petty revenge, but the tiny gasp you let out when the chill of the room catches up, nipples hardening, the instinctive way you reach up to protect yourself? It’s entirely worth your glare and the swat to his head you give him.

Mateo loves you and wants you to be comfortable, but why in God’s name have you decided that the most comfortable position was on top of him? Pressed so firmly against him that he can practically feel your naked skin, even through your shirt? He’ll hold you close, burying his face in your neck in order to hide his flushing face. He’s trying so hard not to focus solely on how the softness of your chest is squished against him, trying not to draw your attention to the raging bulge hidden away in his pants.

Stepford has no shame in his love of your fantastically cropped, red shirt! He grins, eyes trailing over the curve of your breasts, your nipples, hard and poking tantalizingly through the cloth. “You look good enough to eat, mommy.” His hands’ll expertly massage your sides, thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks before he dips his head down, keeping direct eye contact while mouthing at you through the fabric. He lets out a little giggle when you tsk, chiding at him for leaving wet spots on the shirt that you’d ‘just washed’, but it doesn’t mean much to him when you look so pretty like that. It’s not his fault!

[barleyo]

Glittering Gold.

Stepford X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: nobody loves this golden twink like i do, i swear it. special thanks to @fuckinbanjos for nursing this kinky ass idea with me, love you for matching my freak, girl!

Tags: mommy kink, slight mdlb themes, dirty talk, praise, blowjobs, handjobs, no female orgasm (sadly)

Wordcount: 1.5k

Stepford was a trophy and as such, he did his best to keep his natural radiance alive and well. He shined himself nearly every day, slathering his "for decoration" muscles in oil. He kept himself fit and show ready, but age was catching up to him slowly. There was nothing he could do to stop it—he knew, because he had already tried everything. 

It started when his face started to lose its natural rouge. The apples of cheeks faded from their warm red to a humble, pinkish hue. He stared at himself for hours, wondering why this was happening to him, of all people. 

It crushed him, really, but he had to remain unfazed in the eyes of others. If his demeanor slipped, perhaps everyone else would notice his growing flaws. His appearance was everything, it was his whole purpose, his whole livelihood! If others were to see his imperfections, why would they keep him around? He already felt hated by most, so if his looks slipped away, would he lose those who bothered to stick around? 

More importantly, would he lose you?

The Breaker Box was holding a talent show. Stepford was invited to stand in as a prize for the winner, he agreed of course. There hadn't been many competitions in the house in a while. This would be an opportunity to impress, he thought. 

He worried about his little problem, but he rationalized it to just being nerves. Nerves were normal before any event, you told him that constantly. You were so good at soothing him in his most anxious, complex moods. Your voice and presence were enough to calm him, especially when you were cheering him on.

Unfortunately for him, you were out the night of the talent show, and things couldn't have gone any worse.

After a characteristically bad performance from Johnny and a poorly received G&G themed standup set from Chance, Jean Loo was pronounced the winner. His rhymes were profane at best and disgusting at worst, but out of the slew of performers, he was the cream of the crop.

Stepford had been standing behind the curtain on stage, peeking out periodically to see if you had slipped into the crowd. Painted nails pawed at the velvet drapes, his eyes darting around, laced with anxiety. He had told you about the talent show, he had even got you to pinky promise to show up. Where were you?

"Merci beaucoup," Jean said, taking over the stage, beaming under the scattered applause. "And my honors?"

Stepford felt someone nudge the small of his back, pushing him out into the spotlight of the stage next to Jean Loo.

He swallowed thickly, putting on his winning smile. It was less convincing than he hoped for, but it was all he had at the moment.

"Congratulations on your win."

With pursed lips, Jean shoved his hands in his pockets. His smug look gained a hint of judgement as he scanned over Stepford.

"I thought trophies were meant to shine, no?" he asked, only loud enough for Stepford to hear. "Seems you've gone dull, my friend."

By the time you got home, Stepford was curled up in your bed, sobbing into your pillows, and clawing at your sheets. The opinion of one French bastard had ruined his self image. He was already teetering on the edge for days now, but this? It broke his sweet, little heart.

"Step', what's wrong?"

You shifted out of your flats quickly, abandoning them at the door with haste. Hearing your pretty boy's broken cries rocked you. You only wanted him happy, and seeing this? You were beyond worried. 

Taking a seat on the edge of your bed, you slipped your hand over his back. He was warm, but his body still shivered and convulsed. You heard his voice mumble something into your pillow.

"Hm?"

When his head reeled up to look at you, you flinched. You had never seen him look so... distraught. 

His eyes were glazed and leaking, with tears that clung to his lashes—dew on blades of grass. The tears carved a clear path through his concealer, marking out where each drop of humiliation passed. 

His lips twitched before he spoke, and when he did, the words gushed out like water from a broken dam. 

"You weren't there to watch me." Stepford sat up as best he could, pulling himself onto his side with his forearms supporting his weight. "You promised."

Ah, shit.

"Oh, baby, something came up at work, I didn't mean—" as you explained, he shook his head, cutting you off.

"You promised," he continued, "and you weren't there. They made fun of me, said I lost my luster." 

He only got bratty like this when he had a reason. He needed you, really needed you, right now.

You sighed softly and patted your lap. 

"C'mere baby. Let mommy make it up to you, yeah?"

"S'okay to cry, Steppy," you cooed, humming as you felt his wet lashes flutter against your neck. You coaxed him into your arms long ago. Now, you were simply toying with him, making him tick. "I know, it feels so good, huh? Lift your hips for me."

You ran your thumb over his oozing slit for longer than he could stand. Each little movement felt like too much and not enough. He was needy, but tender. You were so good at striking a balance with him, but you still loved to keep him on his toes, especially with your words. 

Stepford did what you said, letting his hips raise to meet your palm. He shivered. Despite being a small stroke, the feeling of pushing his cock through your grip warmed his belly. 

"That's good, why don't you try again?"

He repeated the action, pulling his hips back before angling them up again. It was such a turn on to him, using your hand to jerk himself off. If he were in a better position, he'd rather be rutting into your pussy, but this? This was good too. More than good.

"F—fuck, mommy," he whined, moving away from the crook of your neck, not before getting another whiff of your perfume, of course. "Can I?" 

Stepford looked at your tits, wanting to get any contact with them he could. It was unfair, he thought, that you were still fully clothed while he was bare and sprawled out on your lap. He wanted a peak.

You nodded, huffing a soft laugh when he plucked at the buttons of your blouse with needy fingers. He pressed a hand to one, roughly palming it. He wanted to rip your bra off, but before he could move further, you gave the base of his cock a firm squeeze.

"No, baby, tonight is for you," you said, grabbing his wrist with your free hand. Your other was busy pumping his length. "Gotta let me apologize. You don't want to make me sad, do you?"

He let out a whiny, strangled sound. Relenting but bratty. 

You rolled him off of your lap, carefully adjusting his head onto your pillows. You slotted between his knees, one hand resting on his lower stomach and the other wrapped around his cock. 

"Spread, Steppy, make room for me." You nudged his toned thigh with your shoulder, eyes dipping up to look at him.

Your head sunk down far too quickly, taking all of him down your throat like a woman starved. 

Stepford gasped, eyes going wide and unfocused. He tried to push your head away, to wriggle out of your grasp. He was strong enough to pull you away if he really wanted to, but your mouth felt so warm and wet around him. He couldn't fight it. 

He accidentally bucked his hips. He didn't mean to, but the choking sound you made when he did made blood rush to his ears.

When you pulled off of him with a pop, spit slicked lips pulled into a smile, he groaned. "Sorry, mommy, didn't mean it."

Blinking at him slowly, you gave his dick soft kitten licks. Your tongue dragged from base to tip and back down, savoring each vein that crossed your path.

You pressed a soft kiss to his tip.

"Stepford."

"Ah?" He gripped the sheets under him. 

"You know how pretty you are, don't you?"

He melted under your words, feeling his face flush. Yes, he knew, but doubt had started to cloud his mind in the past weeks. He needed more than anything for you to remind him. 

"You think so?" he goaded, playing coy to get more out of you. Sneaky wretch. "Y'think I'm pretty?"

"Yes, baby," you spat a glob onto your palm and continued to stroke him, stopping at his tip to abuse the sensitive spot, pumping it, "mommy loves how you look. Thinks she's got the prettiest boy ever."

"Fuck."

"With the sexiest body," you said, voice dripping with love, "and the most handsome face. What's not to like, huh?"

He turned his head to the side, eyes boring into the wall beside him as he felt his orgasm build. He bit one of his slender, manicured fingers, his porcelain teeth nipping the skin. 

"And now, mommy's pretty boy is gonna cum for her. Right?"

[hxney-lemcn]

Trophy Boys, Trophy Wives — Stepford x gn! reader

summary: An offhand comment leads to a lovely revelation

a/n: this just randomly popped into my head and I had to write it down, I haven't written in a while so it might be a bit rusty but eh.

wc: 0.5k

Master List

It was a random post, not something you’d normally stumble upon your social media feed. A brunette was cutting some vegetables in the kitchen, a bright cheery smile as she wore an apron. The words at the top caused you to lift an eyebrow. ‘I don’t care if I’m called a trophy wife, as long as my husband loves me that’s all that matters’. 

“All I see are trophy wives, what about trophy husbands, huh?” You question no one in particular, but a certain bronze skinned trophy glances your way. His head tilts at your seemingly random comment, honey brown eyes flitting over your figure for a second. 

A thousand thoughts suddenly occupied his mind. Were you hinting at something? Does he make a move? Does he want to make a move? Yes. Should he? Or were you just being your silly random self? He decided to test the waters.

“What about them?” Stepford asks, honeyed voice clearly a bit too interested in this topic.

“I mean, trophy wives, so overdone. Patriarchy at its finest, but a trophy husband? Now that’s more my speed,” You rambled, phone forgotten as you turned your attention towards your (literally) glowing companion. “I mean who doesn’t wanna come home to a pretty face and a nice home made meal, then spend some quality time for the rest of the night.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Stepford replied, biting his lip to try and hide his growing grin. 

“Yeah,” You let out a dejected sigh. “Too bad it’ll probably stay just that.”

“Y’know,” Stepford muttered, rocking back and forth on his heels nervously. “I think you’ve won a trophy.”

“Huh?” You furrowed your eyebrows. You hadn’t competed in anything in forever, nor have you put anything into any lotteries.

“Yup,” Stepford says, popping the p, a blush coating his cheeks as he continues. “You have won the trophy of my heart, after all. So what better prize than a trophy?” 

You tilted your head, feeling your cheeks heat at the confession. Seeing your confusion, he clarifies, “If it’s a trophy husband you want, who better for the role than me?”

You felt your heart beat out of your chest at the thought, coming home from a long day of work, only to have Stepford greet you at the door with a bright smile and a mediocre (at best) meal (but you wouldn’t mind because he tried his best). 

“It makes sense,” You nod, inching closer and toying with the medal that rests against his chest. It’s almost impossible to ignore the way his breath hitches at your proximity, or how he seems to lean into your touch. “I’d be an idiot to turn away such a prize.”

“Good thing you’re so smart,” Stepford winked, and you couldn’t hold yourself back, leaning in and capturing his perfect lips in a delectable kiss. It wasn’t a rare occurrence to catch Stepford on your arm after that, looking all poised and pretty, completely smug that he was the one you chose to show off.

[saffron-seraph]

When you told the objects that you’d be interested in a day of free use, they all turned to Ben-hwa assuming this was an idea they got in your head. Not that any of them were against it, but they just assumed it was their idea. When you assured them that it was something you’d wanted for a while, half of them almost pounced on you right there.

That led to a bit of a full house at the Breaker Box that night with you all dressed up in an easily removable outfit and some makeup that Barry made sure was long lasting. Anyone could take you at any time, in their lap, against a table, against a wall, or even on stage. Just not against the bar- that is, unless you’re Eddie or Volt. It took a lot of convincing from Volt but he insisted that tonight is a special occasion and theres something special about them being the only ones to be allowed to fuck you on the bar.

The first half of the night your mouth was the hot topic, being passed around a table consisting of Betty, Ben-hwa, Bev, and Stepford, all enoying petting your hair under the table.

Then ofc came Amir being showy and taking you against a table, making sure to praise you for your beauty why pointing it out to others as some watched you be fucked and filled by the gorgeous mirror.

Johnny and Jean Loo bring you up to the stage to ‘serenade’ and insist that whoever does it best gets to have you first. People actually love the act cause it involves you just sitting there looking pretty and deciding its hot and you should take off your top, meanwhile those two are singing so intently at each other that they don’t notice. It’s practically a commedy when Volt shoos them off the stage only to take the mic snd point out how they missed their chance, only for their jaws to drop as they see you shirtless.

Volt, ever the showman he is, takes the time to go behind you, talking to the crowd as if you’re not there and as if he isn’t suddenly massaging your chest in one hand while he hosts. Everyone watching him play with you just gets you more hot and bothered, you almost don’t wanna leave the stage.

But Cam buys you a drink and bluntly asks you to sit on his dick as he lounges in a booth. Ofc, you’re gonna be good for him and sit, only for him to roughly take your hips and fill you at least twice before he even lets you sip that drink he got you.

Finally you get to the bat sitting on top of it like you own the place cause Volt lifted you up without a word and sat you there like a doll. He lifts your legs over the side and positioned you so your ass was towards Eddie, underwear long gone by now. The night is winding down and Volt keeps petting your thighs and trying to entice Eddie to have his turn, and it’s working. Sandwiched between them with your mouth full of Volt and your backside full of Eddie while others finished their drinks and watched with nothing but lust and affection for you was exactly how you wanted to end your night, fucked full, stupid, and loved.

The kisses and praise that followed that night and the next following days went straight to your head and you were already planning for a next time.

[fangirlbot]

PLEASE MAKE MORE STEPFORD NSFW I NEED THIS MAN SO BAD IM GONNA PASS OUT

wait!! i wrote this just for you so don’t pass out!!! nsfw warning obvi ,, anyways i hope you enjoy

“Ohh, you are soaked, aren’t you?”

Stepford cooed the words against your inner thigh, his plush lips brushing where they shouldn’t yet be, just to make you twitch. He was already kneeling, perfectly posed between your legs, hands stroking slowly up your thighs.

He wasn’t trying to make you come—not yet. He was just looking, admiring. Breathing you in like it was enough to get him off.

“Mmh… you’re always so sweet when I get you like this,” he murmured, eyes fluttering half-shut. “Warm, soft, just dripping for me…”

You sighed, hips shifting closer. “You gonna keep talking, or are you gonna—”

“Manners,” he scolded lightly, though his voice was thick with arousal. “If you want me to put my mouth where it belongs, you’ve gotta say please…”

He looked up at you through those fluttery lashes, lips just barely brushing your folds now. “Come on… say it. You know you like it when I beg.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“Please, Stepford,” you breathed, curling your fingers in his hair. “…Be good and eat me out.”

That was all it took.

He groaned before his tongue was on you, slow and warm and deliberate, licking through your cunt with such focus it made your head fall back. One hand tangled in his gold locks, tugging slightly.

“Ohh, there,” he whimpered, rutting slightly into the bed like he was getting off on it. “That’s it, that’s the taste I missed…”

You whined as he moaned into you again, open-mouthed, noisy, messy. He wasn’t shy with it—he never was—tongue gliding in deep strokes, nose bumping against your clit as he mouthed and kissed and devoured.

You barely had to guide him. He knew your body too well. Every flick of his tongue had purpose, every whimper he let out only made you wetter. When he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, you cried out, and he smiled against you.

“So good,” he whispered, voice sticky with praise and slick with your arousal. “So perfect for me. You always taste so good when I make you melt like this…”

You whimpered as your thighs trembled around his head.

“You gonna come for me?” he cooed, barely pulling back. His lips were soaked, face slick with spit and your arousal. “Come on… Give it to me. Let me taste it, let me feel you come on my tongue—I’ll be so good—”

You came with a gasp, voice breaking, legs clamping around his head as your fingers yanked him closer. He moaned like he’d been waiting for that—like he had climaxed from it—and he didn’t stop. His tongue kept working you through it, slow, greedy, savoring you like a reward.

When you finally relaxed, breathless, thighs trembling, Stepford kissed the inside of your thigh, a proud little grin curling on his lips.

“There she is,” he purred. “You came so pretty for me… You always do.”

Then, he whispered,

“…Think I could make you do it again?”

[pervoshi]

MOMMY . stepford ( date everything )

fem!reader ⸝ switch!stepford ⸝ MOMMY KINK ⸝ fingering ⸝ praise ⸝ teasing ⸝ slight degradation ⸝ begging ⸝ one mention of p in v ⸝ stepford is a little shit

you and stepford had a, well, unspoken thing going on.

neither of you considered it a relationship, more so a friends with benefits ordeal.

he’d come to you asking to hook up and vice versa.

which lead to the position you were currently in.

“f—fuck, babe, you don’t waste any time.”

stepford was underneath you, thighs straddling his lap as you left a trail of kisses down his neck.

“i’m not allowed to get needy for you?”

you felt his neck vibrate from a chuckle, guiding his hands up to your waist.

“didn’t say that— plus,”

he moved his hand to grip the plump of your ass, amused by the way you whined against him.

“i think it’s cute when you’re worked up”

“s—shut up.”

your lips detached from his skin, now gazing down at him, a dopey grin on his face.

“make me, then.”

god, he was such a brat.

but you were too, so could you really get that mad about it?

“bet you’d like if i did.”

he didn’t say a word, he simply kept his eyes on you, daring you to do something.

you weren’t exactly confident in your skills as a dominant person in bed, it wasn’t your strong suit.

the man beneath you knew this, yet he always liked to push you as far as you would go.

for a moment, you sat still, clearly trying to conjure up a plan on what to do with stepford.

“what’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

“didn’t i tell you to shut up.”

in a flash your hand was on his neck, squeezing just enough to make him glue his lips together.

you grinned, satisfied with his silence before guiding a hand down to his clothed crotch, massaging the surface in your palm.

“that’s all it takes to keep you quiet, huh?”

next, you rolled your hips, making sure to angle it perfectly against his cock, taking in the way stepford’s face flushed over, his teeth biting into his bottom lip.

“already getting worked up? just from that?” you teased, cocking your head to the side.

“not— not worked up,”

“oh? so if i do this—,”

your hand slipped into his pants, now cupping the entirety of his cock through his boxers.

“o—oh.”

“thats what i thought.”

you continued your teasing, rubbing his cock lazily as your hips would grind against him in between strokes, the sound of his moans echoing throughout the room.

stepford was in pure bliss — you, on top of him, eyes glued to his face, your face slightly flushed due to the sight below you.

of course the man loved when you got all cocky with him, the way you put him in his place whenever he got too mouthy with you.

but, he couldn’t help how much he loved watching you fall apart because of him.

and stepford knew just the thing that would make you spiral out your head.

as you moved against him again, he threw his head back, mouth agape, breathy moans escaping from his throat.

“s—so good to me, mommy.”

it felt like everything in your head froze, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt your face heat up, body stopping its movements entirely.

“don’t— don’t say that.”

he knew from there it was all over.

your voice was already wavering, a hand had come to cover the flush on your cheeks, and he felt the way your hips stuttered against his own.

“hm? what’s the matter?

fuck, if you weren’t dripping already, you most definitely were now.

stepford slipped a hand up the front of your shirt, his fingers drawing shapes and figures on the skin.

“where’d all that confidence go? you were having so much fun with me.”

“y—you’re still under me, i can—,”

your voice was cut off by a whine slipping through, feeling his fingers pinch one your nipples ever so gently, twisting the bud between them.

“seems like you’re distracted, babe.”

“shut—, ngh—!”

his lips brushed against your neck, sneaking his tongue out to lick the flesh, one of his free hands cupping the back of it.

you could barley hold yourself together from the mixture of his touch and mind numbing words.

he always knew just what to say to make you crumble, to make you fall right back down into his clutches.

“now you’re all quiet? not gonna boss me around anymore?”

“fuck—,”

stepford inched the hand on your breast down to the waistband of your (his) boxers, pulling it forwards before letting it go, the fabric snapping against your stomach.

“you want me to touch you here, mommy?”

another snap, the impact making the flesh turn a light red as you hissed, your hands now gripping onto his shoulders.

“s—such a brat,” you huffed out, eyes piercing into his own.

“i guess that’s a no—,”

he started to retract his hand before you snapped one of yours down, wrapping around his wrist.

“so needy, but,”

you felt stepford shift forwards, his head leaning upwards as he smiled at you.

“i want to hear you to say it.”

“fine — please touch m—me.”

the man shook his head, laying back on the couch as he continued to fiddle with your pants.

“c’mon, you can do better than that.”

he was silent for a moment, before an idea popped into his mind.

“want to hear you say “mommy wants you to touch her”, okay?”

this damn man was going to be the death of you.

“i— i’m not gonna say that.”

“well, i’ll just leave you here then — all desperate and worked up.”

stepford watched as you furrowed your eyebrows, nails digging into his skin before finally, you let a defeated sigh.

“m—mommy wants you to touch her.”

“good girl, was that so hard?”

after what felt like days, he finally slipped his hand into your boxers, fingers teasing your clit.

just from a single touch, you were gone.

your eyes closed, your hips slowly starting to move against stepford’s digits, desperate for more.

“that’s it, use my hand to get off.”

and you did exactly that.

he didn’t move his fingers from your bud, offering lazy circles as you did most of the work.

“n—need more,”

“more? so greedy, mommy.”

you felt him move two of his fingers to your hole, pushing in just a smidge before finally sinking them further.

it felt like pure ecstasy being filled, your movements borderline erratic as stepford rubbed your clit with his thumb, offering a deeper sensation.

your walls clenched against his fingers, a bubbling feeling building up in your stomach.

“ngh—!”

“you gonna cum? can feel you squeezing around me.”

“y—yes, ‘m so— so close,”

stepford curled his digits inside you, pushing the tips of them right into your sweet spot.

“o—oh, fuck—!”

“yeah, yeah — cum for me mommy, p—please.”

your vision went white, thighs shaking as your juices soaked his fingers, dripping down on his arm.

he worked you through your release, rubbing messy circles on your clit as you collapsed onto him, head resting in the crook of his neck.

“that good, huh?”

“q—quiet,”

“c’mere—.”

his hands moved to your waist, turning your body around so your back was pressed against his front.

“what are you—,”

“did you think we were done?”

stepford pulled down his pants, revealing his hardened cock.

he moved to your pants next, yanking the material down your thighs.

“i still haven’t cum yet,”

you felt your body get lifted just slightly, his tip teasing the entrance of your cunt before slowly sinking you down, cock stretching out your walls.

“o—oh—!”

“so you’re gonna help me, aren’t you?”

your hands shot back to grip stepford’s thighs, eyes squeezed shut as he inched into you.

once he finally bottomed out, you both let out shaky moans, taking a moment to adjust to the feeling.

“now,”

you heard the man finally speak, breaking the tension in the room.

“make me cum, mommy.”

© pervoshi

[headcanon-everything]

More stepford headcanons please. I’m starving (thank you !!)

YES STEPFORD MY BABY I wanna squish his cheeks so bad

Romantic Stepford Headcanons

okay okay so he likes the idea of being a trophy, he likes even more the thought of being a trophy husband but has to deal with his issues of feeling like he has to win/be valuable first

weirdly the thought that a trophy husband is jokingly/affectionately not meant to contribute anything besides being pretty is comforting to him??

it's the fact that someone wants him around because he's there and not because he's a prize despite the name

is confident in his looks, but will have a mini crash out if something happens like a pimple or something

a few comforting words is enough to fix it

sunbathes like a cat. is there a sunbeam? he's in it and probably half awake if not fully sleeping

(does nap with Timmy like that on occasion, but never thinks to bring it up)

is a big platonic cuddler tbh he will curl up with anyone when it's sunshine nap time

is a bit of a lightweight, and somehow gets even MORE sappy than he already is

it's kinda cute honestly

also gets very demanding for cuddles, even in public

will be happiest sitting on your lap/laying his head in your lap while you try to talk around him

definitely gets tears in his eyes when he starts to pout, but 90% of the time they're crocodile tears and he's doing it on purpose

likes playfully teasing you on occasion; he's taller? he'll grab something for you but hold it up and demand a kiss for payment. you trip on air? he'll giggle very obviously behind his hand (for plausible deniability) when it's obvious you're alright

likes stuffed animals and soft things but is a little ashamed of it at first because it seems "childish"

the more he actually starts working out just to maintain his physique, the more confident he is in both his looks and socializing

loves socializing but has to build up his social battery - it's pretty short at first because he's shy

the more he gets over the being shy, the longer he can stay and socialize

eventually gets to the point where you're telling him you want to leave instead of the other way around

is very very sweet when holding you, is afraid he'll hurt you somehow (? there's no basis for this, he's just paranoid and that's the worst thing that could every happen to him)

if he ever accidentally bruises you by tripping into you or messing around? he's INCONSOLABLE

it could be the smallest thing and he's already crying when he notices it. needs a lot of kisses and comfort that you're fine and don't hate him

likes to hug you from behind the most, likes being able to bury his face in your neck/hair/shoulder blades depending on your height

prefers to smell like vanilla based scents, has no preference for you though

likes to wear matching clothes and jewelry

and if he sees you in one of his shirts? he's a WRECK

I just realized that you didn't say romantic oops haha I hope this still works

[hashemovitch]

Stepford is underRATED, I tell you. Whiteboyfailure twink of the month. Shallow enough to seem like a himbo yet self-critical enough to prove it's just his looks. He has that weird sparkly eyed cherub look that reminds you of shoujo manga. That noticeable dick print we're expected to just ignore when speaking to him. He's so easy to objectify. He has a mommy/daddy kink… I;m drooling.