warning: it’s smut. and it’s rough. Wilbur highly teases reader about their situation, squirting, breeding (use protection please!) fluff at the end- (I don’t condone stepcest nor incest, this is purely fiction!)
-
“You’re so fucking loud-” Wilbur groaned out, grabbing a fist full of your hair, turning your face and stuffing it into the pillows. The roughness of his actions making you moan into the cotton as his thrust never ceased.
You don’t know how this happened. One moment you and Wilbur were studying together, telling your parents how you both do better when studying with the other, usually asking for input on things. And the next moment you’re being bent over on Wilbur’s bed, face being suffocated, and his dick hitting every spot imaginable.
Wilbur wasn’t being soft. No. Not when he wanted to test just how well you could stay quiet for him while he dicks you down and reminds you who really matters in this situation.
“Shh baby, mommy and daddy are home remember? Don’t want them waking up to the sounds of their daughter being a whore for their son yeah?” Wilbur whispered in your ear, hand still covering your mouth, your moans being muffled and drool spilling over his palm.
Your eyes rolled back at his words, and you clenched around his dick at the idea of being caught in an act you shouldn’t even be in. But it sounded good coming from him… maybe a little bit too good.
Wilbur hissed as he felt your walls trap him inside of you, hips stuttering at the feeling of your warmth sucking him in. “Shit- you dirty little slut. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Wilbur laughed in your ear, his free hand was now buried in your hair, moving your head to be facing his door.
“Mother dearest hearing her baby screaming so loud over her step son’s cock, banging on the door to let her in but you don’t care, no. You wouldn’t want me to stop. You’d want me to continue to pound you into the mattress until you’ve taken every. last. drop of me, yeah?” Wilbur hissed out, his lips brushing against your ear every so often as he spoke venom into your veins.
The worst part is, he wasn’t wrong.
He knew you had some sort of fear of being caught by your parents. But he also knows you like when it’s exploited and a possibility. It’s disgusting, yes, but with the situation you’re in, it goes hand and hand.
Wilbur chuckled as you turned your head back into the pillow, trying to bite down your whines and moans as he pressed your back down further into the mattress, your ass perfectly in line for him to go as deep as he could.
“Oh so now she wants to be quiet? Well too bad my love, you’re a little bit late to pull that card-“ Wilbur hissed once more at you as he pressed you fully into the mattress. He kept his hands pressed on your back, making sure you stayed put as he thrusted harder and faster, chasing a high that was so close.
The new position made everything too much. He felt bigger, stretching you out even more than he did before, hitting spots inside of you no one else ever could. Your hands fisted the pillows underneath you, drool seeping out of your mouth and onto the cloth your face had found comfort in as of late.
“Oh my- Wil! ‘m gonna cum!” You slurred out into the pillow, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tried to thrust back and meet his hips, wanting him deeper inside you if possible. Your body felt numb, legs shaking from the overwhelming sensation of want and need. Want to come and need for Wilbur to make it happen.
Wilbur’s hips moved faster than before, going at an almost inhuman pace in your opinion, but you weren’t complaining. His hand crept up your back, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he pulled your head up from the pillows, taking in your expression.
Tears stained your face from how good you felt, drool dripping from your chin onto the sheets as your eyes rolled back into your head. Your mouth dropped open in an empty moan, quickly biting your lip to contain any groans you would let out.
You looked pathetic.
But oh so beautiful.
“Fucking hell- gonna make me come just from your face baby… “ Wilbur whispered in your ear, a whine slipping through your teeth as he continued rocking into to. Wilbur couldn’t hold it anymore, you felt so good and you sounded even better, all this build up was making him insane. “Go ahead baby- be a good girl and cum on my cock!”
After the words left his mouth, you didn’t waste a second. The pressure in your body snapped, making your body tense up at the feeling of finally being able to release all of it. Wilbur’s hand quickly let go of your hair, moving his hand to cover your mouth the best he could, preventing as much sound as he could.
Your hand held onto his wrist, digging your nails into the skin while your eyes rolled back into your head once more, body twitching as you clenched around his cock. Your mouth opened to scream yet nothing came out, at least that you know of. All of your senses flew out the window as the tension snapped in two, ringing filling your ears as your vision went white, hands twisted into the sheets.
Wilbur bit back his own moan as he watched you come undone underneath him, his thrust not ceasing as your release flowed out of you, making a mess of his thighs and his sheets. The sight of your body shaking and your muffled screams and groans made Wilbur finish quicker than he thought, hips stuttering as his release filled you up even more than you already were.
Wilbur came with a groan, not caring to muffle or surpress it, body fully lying on yours as his hips rocked into you once more, fucking his cum deeper in you. You rested your body on the mattress, spent and tired from the actions that just occurred, hands untangling from the pillows, reaching up to rest one of them in Wilbur’s hair.
Your fingers ran through his curls, untangling knots as gently as you could without making Wilbur whine at you. The brunette pressed his face further in your neck, almost purring at your work on his hair, breathing slowing down.
“As much as I would love to stay like this, I’m currently lying in my wetness and want a shower, desperately.” You told the man on top of you, starting to push off of the bed, making him whine at the sudden movement.
“5 more minutes?” He questioned, lips pressing against your neck once more as his cock stirred inside of you once more.
You moved your ass against his groin, grinding against his member as you turned your head towards him. Connecting your lips to his, the kiss was soft yet deep, pulling his head closer to you. You smiled into the kiss as he groaned into your mouth, his member fully hard inside you now, hips trying to rock against yours.
The kiss lasted for a while, tongue colliding with his as you both got sloppier and sloppier. He tasted good; a mix of mint from his gum he had earlier intermingled with the taste of you from his earlier advances. You don’t know how long this all lasted, starting to finish. But all you knew is you wanted more….
Later on.
Pulling away, a string of spit fell onto your chin from the ongoing kiss, making you bite your lip from the heat of it all and Wilbur’s expression. His eyes hooded over, lips swollen and his pupils wide from what you could see. He looked fucked out, yet begging for more of you.
Oh how the roles have reversed.
“Times up baby. Now get up, I want a shower-“ you patted him on the head, rolling over on your side, feeling him slip out of you. You bit your lip at the sensation of it, swallowing a moan before Wilbur could make you stay.
“You’re lucky I love you. I could bend you over my desk and make you take it again-“
“Don’t threaten me with a good time…” you smirked back at him, walking over to his dresser, trying to be quick as his cum was dripping out of you slowly, grabbing a shirt of his and a new sheet for his bed from his closet. “Now change the sheets so we can sleep.”
Wilbur groaned in annoyance as you threw the cloth at his face, ripping it away as he watched you walk towards the door. “So… are you done done, or done for now?”
You threw your head back as you turned to look at him, tilting your head in thought as you took him in. Cock hard against his stomach, arms resting behind his head as he looked you up and down, legs spread like he was ready for you to ride him.
And that does sound good as of right now.
“Change the sheet and if your like that when I come back in, you might just be lucky…” you smirked at the brunette, slipping into the dark hallway to the bathroom across the hall.
Wilbur would never admit how fast he changed his bed.
taglist: @heartofwritiing @mercurymk @charliehonks (if you want added, send me an ask and I’ll get you on here pronto)
I'm gonna suck his dick until I fuckin pass out and gonna beg him to wake me up just to suck it again until I pass out again so he can wake me up again so I can suck it again
𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 wilbur’s kinks and whatnot (because i can)
cw. sexual content. variety of kinks mentioned; praise, humiliation, sadomasochism, overstimulation, etc.
๋ ✿ ˚ㅤ
receiving wise i do think he has a preference for praise, but again i think you can get away with tossing in some degradation in there, but i think he best enjoys it in a very particular way.
he wants to be praised, play it up for a bigger reaction, stroke his ego. one of my writings briefly touched on this but he’s big on ‘only him’, only he can make his partner feel this way—they belong to him—not technically a kink, but in short, he’s possessive! (i have an entire piece on it, granted it’s short, but it does a relatively good job summarising how i think his praise/possessive side operates in terms of sex!)
speaking of possessive… use that against him, and that’s the kind of degradation he likes! humiliate him. comment on his obsessive nature, how pathetic he can be, how annoying he is trailing after you like a puppy.
caution on that last one though, if you use it when he’s in the wrong headspace he’ll take it to heart and turn on you, (and you can’t even ask him what’s wrong because he’s such an asshole about it). but! more likely than not, speaking down to him like that will make his head go all fuzzy.
i put (both) on humiliation because he also enjoys talking down to his partner, and he speaks in such a sweet tone while doing it too—faux sympathy is his bread and butter. if his partner is shy he will not allow them to close their eyes or turn away from him, he is going to force that eye contact—“see? all embarrassed for nothing, what a ridiculous angel i’ve saddled myself with”/“ah, ah, ah, open those pretty eyes”, breathless as he mumbles ‘wow’ and says: “oh, lovely, you look so stupid looking up at me like that” but he follows it up with gentle kiss and a pinch on your cheek for good measure.
in addition to talking down, a hundred percent likely to mock his partner’s moans and whines if he’s really feeling it… which he is no place to do because he’s even more pathetic-sounding but whatever… call him out on it and he’ll deny, deny, deny!
sadomasochist.... woah, whaat who said that!
also incredibly vaguely touched on before (one line or so, blink and you’ll miss it), but adores being even a bit hurt by his partner. scratch him, pinch him, pull his hair, overstimulate him (that’s a biggie, it’s genuinely the only reason he’s into overstimulation, the sting). asphyxiation, specifically being done to him, gives him that same gratification. a bit of a sick thought, but i think the knowledge that you hold even a smidge of his life-force in your hands makes him feel dizzy and his heart swirls. ‘specially if you treat him gently afterwards, run a hand through his hair and slowly move your hand down to reach his cheek, thumb stroking it kindly—swears he falls in love with you all over again. he’s not likely to feel genuinely threatened by his partner, even if they’re a bit… off (or at least not super threatened, maybe just a bit. ha. reference to a draft?)
anyways because of that, and the fact that he knows he can probably just throw you off if he struggles enough, he’s not actually scared at any point. would he be open to feeling a bit scared? i think so. take the risk. scare him.
back to the old points: between overstimulation or edging/orgasm denial though i think he has a preference for overstimulation simply because likes seeing his release on/around his partner. if his partner is interested in overstimulation he’ll return the gesture, but if they’re not he won’t push too much. maybe just a little, just enough to elicit some begging. maybe a tear or two.
segue into dacryphilia. my favourite!!!!! i fucking love talking about it. half of his reasoning for being so obsessed with his partner crying is sweet, and the other half is… less sweet.
half of it is because he views it as his partner opening up completely. eyes are the window to the soul and tears are the purest form of vulnerability, or he believes that at least. it’s a non-verbal way of saying you love him. the other half of it is because it gives him such a fucking power trip knowing he reduced his partner to tears accompanied by quick words and sniffles because your mind can’t muster up anything else. feeds into his ‘only me’/‘you’re his special person’. do not take this away from him by saying you just cry easily. will take it as a challenge and after he’s done with you, he’s going to ice you out until you apologise.
final quick thoughts, i think anything that gives him a sense of control he’s up for! not to say he’ll never relinquish that control, i think he’d enjoy letting his partner take the reigns a bit. he believes he has the real power anyways.
tw—nsfw, some parts suggestive, he’s so mean sry (im not)
mean!wilbur who knows you like it. that’s what makes him even worse! the first time you don’t pull away when he says something a little too harsh, his eyes narrow slightly and he tilts his head at you, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek, “you’re not even gonna argue?” and when you just look at him like that—soft, a little hurt, but also in awe—he exhales through his nose and mutters, “you like that, huh?”
mean!wilbur who leans into it after that. his voice gets quieter when he’s mean. serious with a hint of faux tenderness—was he really being mean if his voice sounded so sweet? “you like when i talk to you like this, don’t you?” and he doesn’t wait for an answer. he just tilts your head so you have to look at him. he’d run his thumb over your bottom lip, sometimes dipping it into your mouth. you’d always swirl your tongue around him in response, doe-eyed and everything. “yeah… s’what i thought sweet thing.”
mean!wilbur who will pick at your insecurities in a way that feels too... personal. it’s never enough to break you, but it’s just enough to tighten your chest. “always so desperate for attention… it’s embarrassing.” but his thumb is tracing your jaw while he says it. he’s studying your reaction. and when your thighs shift tighter together, of course he notices! his free hand always wanders its way down to your panties where he circles slow, deliberate strokes against your clit. you only shudder in response. “this the kind of attention you need babydoll?”
mean!wilbur who when your eyes start watering, he goes still. he watches you with a deep intent. there’s something almost unfair about how soft his expression gets compared to his words. “there it is…”
mean!wilbur who scoffs, “don’t hide it. i wanna see.” so you lean into him when he’s like that, and it messes with him more than he’d admit. the tears didn’t mean you were shrinking—just surrendering yourself to it. he’ll let out a low, almost irritated sigh. like he’s annoyed you’ve figured him out. all the ways he likes to play with you. “gonna make me worse, you know that?”
mean!wilbur who gets colder. he’s less teasing, more cut-throat. you’re smarter than the others, and maybe that’s why he can’t walk away from you. “stop acting like you don’t know what you’re doing, love…you push and push and then look at me like that—what’d you expect dear?”
mean!wilbur who loves to crowd your space, one hand always firm on your jaw or waist. he holds you in place while he talks down to you. it’s not out of control—he’s very in control. maybe that’s the problem. sometimes he can’t help himself, you just look so pretty. you’re something for him to take, and he loves it. when he’s got his two long, calloused fingers inside of you, his body pressed close to yours, something inside of him snaps. you look so helpless below him almost crushed beneath his weight. “so pathetic baby, y’know that?”
mean!wilbur who if you decide to get bratty back or mouth off when he’s already in a mood, he just smiles at you slyly—but it isn’t nice. is it ever? “oh, now you’ve got something to say?” a quiet laugh under his breath “careful. you’re not gonna like how it ends.”
mean!wilbur who loves leaving reminders when he’s like this. nothing obvious but just enough that you’ll feel it later and think of him. his most favorite recent spot is just below your collarbone! he loves sucking hard enough to hear your skin pop, accompanied by his sharp canines biting down—harsh. a fresh, purple-blue mark would always appear, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t admire them in the mirror when he was away.
mean!wilbur who when you don’t pull away after, it gets to him. because you never do. even when your eyes are glassy and your voice is small, you stay close. he’ll look at you like he’s trying to figure out whether he should feel guilty or possessive. and usually, it always lands on possessive. “you’re so…” he stops, jaw tightening. “you let me get away with too much, darling.”
mean!wilbur whose hand will soften. always. one sliding up into your hair, the other pulling you against him. he holds you there like he doesn’t trust you not to disappear on him. they always did. his voice drops again, quieter than before, “and you still stay.” a pause. “…insane, or do you want me to keep going?” but if you admit you liked it—even just a little—he exhales. “you’re unbelievable.” but he pulls you closer when he says it.
mean!wilbur who will always make up for it in the end, just not in the way most would expect. no big apologies or dramatic softness. it didn’t need to be that way. he’d tend to linger. he’d touch you more gentler than before, like he was recalibrating.
mean!wilbur who brushes his thumb under your eye, smirks just a little, and murmurs, “you’d tell me if it was too much… right?” you’d shift below him, your bare legs pressed against his under soft blankets. you didn’t answer.
2087
stormborns
yousharknotpass
