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#so scott takes to her so stiles takes to her
kitchenisking · 2 days
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Day 3
The Pot Of Gold At The End Of The Rainbow by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving - (Rating: T, Words: 8,881, sterek)
Stiles meets his first Hale when he's seven, and the most important Stilinski-Hale twenty years later.
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In which Derek's family meets the love of his life years before he does, but Derek still gets the better end of the bargain.
As You Lay Dying by FelOllie - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 9,360, sterek)
Seven excruciatingly long days since Mexico: Take Two, and Stiles still couldn't get the sound of Derek's breath rattling wetly in his lungs out of his head. He heard it in his sleep, over the the pounding rain and the sound of Malia breathing softly beside him. He heard it when he was wide awake, over the din of crowded hallways and classrooms, cutting through the noise of the last lacrosse game of the season and the bustle of the locker room.
One hundred and sixty-eight hours, give or take, and Stiles had yet to wipe the sight of a bloodied and dying Derek from behind his eyelids. He saw it with every blink and sometimes even when his eyes were open and each time it made his chest feel like it was caving in.
Soulsick by theroguesgambit - (Rating: T, Words: 3,476, sterek)
Derek loathes this idiot of a soulmate, whoever they are. For not coming to Stiles’ call, for being too useless do just to this one simple thing, for failing Stiles, proving how utterly unworthy they are before they’ve ever met him. -- Stiles is cursed with a disease that will eventually destroy his soul unless his soulmate helps strengthen it. The pack performs a ritual to call his soulmate to his side. But days pass and no one appears... 
Maybe they're already here?
Making love is how we'll pray by lanalua - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,742, sterek)
Stiles and Derek perform a ritual in the woods.
In a Moment of Vulnerability by cloudsarefluffy - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 87,097, sterek)
While in New York City to visit his aspiring and success-hungry friend Scott, who left for an internship he fought for over several years ago, Stiles runs into an alpha with a devilish reputation and a dark, tantalizing look that precedes him. Couple that with horny loneliness and failed suppressants, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for a one-night stand that will set the bar forever.
But what if forever isn’t something that the one person you’ve given yourself to wants? What if a forever is somehow growing inside of you after a few months pass and a planned heat is missed? What if you don’t know what to do and there’s only so much chocolate that can soothe an aching heart before you feel like you've got morning sickness all over again?
This is a story about how Stiles loses his virginity alongside himself, and somehow, he manages to find something he never thought he’d ever have along the way.
Looking forward by Smowkie - (Rating: T, Words: 6,953, sterek)
Derek’s cabin was small. Tiny, even. He liked it, sometimes he missed having a big house, like the one he had grown up in, but the cabin was good, comfortable, and he, well, it was somewhere to hide, somewhere no one would find him. Somewhere no one would bother him.
He was happy, though, sort of. Happier than in a long time, he had a comfortable little home, lots of land he could run on—and he did, shifted to his full wolf form and ran for hours, it was wonderful—and his life wasn’t bad at all.
Then one day, the 21st of December on his second year living there, Stiles came to visit.
Written for the prompt cuddles in a power outage.
I Want You to be Happy by lvmehtme - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 13,851, sterek)
Stiles' dad has finally founds someone and the way he looks at her like she hung the moon and the joy in his every smile after all these years is worth everything that she does to him in the dead of night when no one's looking.
I'm giving everyone a fair warning right now, there's statutory rape and psychological trauma in this fic. It ends happy, but it does get graphic. Please proceed with care.
loyalty. courage. integrity. by redhoodedwolf - (Rating: G, Words: 707, sterek)
“Derek what the fuck!”
“Hard first day?” Derek guessed. He pushed himself forward and extended a hand towards Stiles. “You can vent, I have time to listen.”
Little Kid Crush by orphan_account - (Rating: T, Words: 5,052, sterek)
“What’s your name?” Derek asks, wiping the last of the tears off the kid’s face with his sleeve.
“’tiles,” the kid mumbles, and Derek frowns, wondering if he heard correctly.
“Tiles?” Derek repeats.
“Stiles,” the kid repeats, pouting at Derek slightly, defiant even though his eyes are still puffy and red and his cheeks tear-stained.
Witches Wrath by alikatastic - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,063, sterek)
Derek is cursed by witches giving him a hard problem. Nothing works, not cold showers, not his hand. He goes to Stiles for help, and the great friend he is Stiles won't turn him away.
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Characters talking about Derek
What I mean by this is when sometimes, throughout the show, someone said something almost unnotible or that almost no one would really give much tought about Derek, but nothing rude or bad, just some 'complimentes' you might say.
Satomi
Like in 4x7, during the virus outbreak and Satomi is in the hospital with Derek, Deaton and Melissa.
Sorry, I just noticed how much you remind me of Talia
She said this while looking at Derek, and he looked down for a second.
Maybe she saw something in him, not only the resemblances with his mother, maybe she saw Talia's morals and values is Derek before he did himself or anyone else. Maybe she meant Derek could be like his mother: someone you can got for advice and guidance, someone you can rely onto but that will hold you accountable.
And maybe Derek looked down cause he would never think of himself that way, he would never see how much of his mother he has inherited (and not his beauty or stuff like that) and how much potential he's holding within himself, but Satomi sees it and can't help but smile and be a bit sad. Smile because there'll be someone like Talia - guidance, relyable, strong and respected - and sad cause Talia isn't there anymore and because Derek never really got the change to learn a lot from her.
Yet Satomi complimented him kindly, hoping he would eventually be somehow like his mother.
Chris
In season 6B, when he's asked if he 'believes in werewolves' as if they are legends, he says this:
I believe in Derek Hale
which might just be a way to reintroduce his character in the show, but let's give it some depth.
Chris have seen Derek go from 'bad' to good guy, and he also knows (if I remeber correctly) that Derek 'goes around bringing justice' - let's put it like that.
Chris is not a man to believe in legends and superstitions, that's why he believes in Derek. He's very much real and maybe to Chris, Derek is someone who knows justice (and before anyone says something, everyone has different views of it, I know) and who actually does something to ensure it in the world, even if just in a small part of it.
Derek gives his life at risk to ensure other's justice and put himself up as a jury and decides the verdict. And maybe Chris sees in this someone worth believing in, deserving to be believed and not as a legend, but as someone who does something.
Noah
Of course I have to put what the sheriff says about Derek in the movie.
I have never seen anyone take the kind of punishment that Derek Hale took… And kept taking… In order to protect the people he loved.
Maybe Noah sees half of what Chris sees but also someone who knows love and sacrifice, not only justice and maybe even revenge.
To the sheriff, Derek is someone willing to risk his life endlessly to save those he loves, arriving to the point that he completely sacrifice himself and dies.
He loves his people, he does it with his whole heart and Noah knows it, he knows Derek Hale, who lost everything time and time again, would give up his life and did it to save other people, leaving his son behind to save him (along with others too).
Noah knows Derek's heart, how resilient it is and how much love it holds.
Stiles
So, Stiles had not really 'complimented' Derek, he was more 'protective' of him.
"I have given a lot of benetifs to a lot of people" "Like Derek?" Scott & Stiles
Stiles freezes for a second, he did give Derek the benefit of the doubt and he had to fight to prove he wasn't the bad guy, he never really saw Derek as someone 'completely evil'.
To Stiles, Derek is just another person who went through shit and had to deal with it on his own, he knows Derek isn't evil, he knows it by heart cause he trusts him with proof, Derek's worthy of trust to Stiles' eyes while Scott gives his trust to everyone regardless of them deserving it.
"Did Scott try to kill you on the full moon? Did you have to lock him up?" "I did handcuff him to a radiator, why? Would you prefer I locked him in the basement and burned the whole house down around him?" Chris & Stiles
Stiles stands by Derek's side and doesn't accept the hunter's way of handling things - even if isn't aware that Chris didn't do it - and say it straight in his face. Stiles sees the cruelty Derek had to endure, not simply cause he lost his family, but also because the hunters trapped them and burned them alive.
Stiles doesn't agree with such cruelty and anger, he understands Derek somehow, they both lost some family memebers and since the whole Hale family's death wasn't necessary to Stiles' eyes, he's angry for Derek.
Also, even if in this Stiles didn't say anything, he did something very meaningful:
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He didn't have to say anything, while everyone went to Boyd's body, he went to Derek. He knew Derek didn't want to do that and felt guilty for his death despite he was forced to do it. Stiles choose Derek.
Stiles saw Boyd's body and Derek staying still, and decided to comfort Derek, standing by his side and 'grounding' him.
But then we also have when Stiles' jeep broke down in Mexico.
BRAEDEN: Scott, we need to get there by night. It's too dangerous, otherwise. STILES: Go. SCOTT: Not without you! STILES: Dude, someone needs to find Derek. We'll figure something out. We always do. STILES: Just go.
What I want to say here is that Stiles won't give up on Derek nor the jeep and he risk it all for both, somehow he does while caring for Derek, pushing the others to go and find him before it's too late.
So, at the end, what I want to say is:
All these characters talked of Derek as someone worthy of trust, who know justice, love and sacrifice, someone not everyone understand but that those who does knows he's a good person despite everything that happened to him. Because think about it, after all this man went through, he was still kind and still cared for others - in his own way.
(and before someone might think 'you are saying so much about Stiles because you ship Sterek or anything similiar. Yes, I'm a sterek shipper, but right now I'm not asking you to see Sterek in this, I'm asking you to read this objectivly, cause I believe you don't have to ship Sterek to see how Stiles and Derek both cared for each other and how Stiles was probably the one who risked the most to protect/save Derek whenever it was needed and how Derek did the same)
Addiction:
This is my personal opinion (which doesn't directly attaches to Teen Wolf, but I think it fits and could be helpful).
Many people don't talk enough about the people they find... good.
When you see somehow doing the right thing, maybe help along and share how good it is to see somehow still being kind in a world that, if you look closely, it's very cruel for no reason.
Whe you think someone is a good person, please tell them. Please. they might think they aren't cause they made a mistake you aren't even aware of but maybe your little 'ehi, you're a good one' could bright their day and make them more confident and overall, you both would be better persons.
Please, be kind reasonless.
Tell that person you agree with them, tell them you like their dress or makeup, tell them you think their opinion is good and maybe even have a conversation about it, just strangers talking (but still, be careful).
We underestimate the power of words when it comes to love, kindness, respect... we think of 'powerful words' when we think something bad, that why sometimes we think 'that's such a bad thing to think/say'. But whenever it's something lovely or kind, that could bust up someone's day, confidence, self-respect and self-love, we stay quiet, we don't even think of saying it most of the time.
So, please, BE KIND REASONLESS AND REGARDLESS. BE KIND JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN.
If you came this far, thank you for reading my 'kind of' TEDTalk I guess. I hope you'll excuse my grammar and whatever errors might be in this.
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bericas · 2 years
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the heart is the toughest part of the body. tenderness is in the hands. (twaw2022: october 6 ↣ power)
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capricornsicle · 1 year
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Teen Wolf 4x12 "Smoke and Mirrors" + Arsonist's Lullabye (Hozier)
All you have is your fire And the place you need to reach
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letthestorieslive · 2 years
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It all goes back to your family
For @kirayukimuraappreciation week, day 3 : what if the nogitsune chooses to possess Kira
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camellcat · 6 months
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allison argent I celebrated when I first found out you would die and now I just miss you all the time (I never want you around in the early stages but I always end up liking you sometime within s3 without fail) ((which is tragic in and of itself, being so late))
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lunaccult · 1 year
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allison being the only normal person on my roster who has absolutely no time or patience for little games is why she’s the daddiest of them all
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johnbronze · 1 year
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ok for real I know they were limited in their options for explaining Stiles’ actions because DOB didnt come back but like SERIOUSLY. I have so many questions and complaints and not even all of them are Stydia related….. spoilers obviously
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Uhhh I can’t figure out how to add a read more on mobile sorry folks hopefully this is a good enough buffer !!!!!
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Did…. Did anyone bother to tell Stiles that Allison is alive?  are we meant to believe that nobody did?? or what’s worse, that he was told and he just didn’t come to Beacon Hills or call or anything?
On that note, are we actually supposed to believe — and I am not a Sterek girlie by any means, love and light to y’all but it’s just not my cup of tea — that Derek fucking DIED and there was a whole ass memorial service that Stiles just didn’t bother to show up to???? HELLO????
I mean it’s also nearing levels of ‘spn finale Dean Winchester ending’ stupid that Derek died in the first place, given that his whooooole character arc (by my book, anyway) is springing from the place of his trauma, and the way that he has blamed himself, struggled with guilt and loneliness and has been atoning for all of the pain of what he perceives to be personal failures the ENTIRE TIME, never letting himself get too close to people, never asking for help, and instead sacrificing for and nurturing Scott as the ideal alpha that he feels he couldn’t be… I don’t know. It just feels like a needless sacrifice to me, like there are so many ways that you can restrain someone and prevent them from moving from the place where you need to. Oh I don’t know burn them alive ?maybe? Which don’t involve sacrificing yourself and burning alive yourself, right in front of your son and the rest of your loved ones. I know again there are production factors at play, maybe it’s likely that they knew damn well Tyler H wouldn’t or couldn’t come back for another movie so they decided to kill off his character?? but suffice to say I was not happy with that at all (and not in the way I think it was INTENDED to upset me.)
Anyway, I know that Stiles needed to be absent because Dylan O’Brien was not a part of this movie, but if I’m being honest, I kind of would rather that Stiles had died ! Obviously I love Stiles’s character and it’s not that I want him dead at all!! it’s just. if they were going to fully send it, and they know he’s not coming back, and they knew that they were going to make up this premonition dream to break up Stydia and (poorly) explain his absence, then it would’ve done a lot better to make that separation as permanent as in life and death. The Stiles we know would never want to be separated from the people he loves as much as he has been now because of all of the external, real life factors. In fact, the season arc with the ghost riders proved to us just how far Stiles can and would go to be present! It was aaaactually a whole thing ! So, if I’m being honest… (1) the way that he and Lydia parted, (2) the way that he isn’t present or even mentioned in the light of his loved ones dying/being resurrected, and (3) again the fact that he wasn’t even at Derek’s memorial … it all feels like a silent character assassination to me. It feels like the mentioning of “Stiles” in this new canon contains less essence of Stiles than it would’ve if he had died. I know it’s easy to have a hater moment and make criticisms and piss and moan about how I would’ve done it better, and I know it’s not always as easy as it sounds… but JESUS CHRIST
Also congrats to the sterek girlies on your own personal y yo a ti moment……that jeep shit was CRAZY
#this is only like an iceberg tip of the things I have to say about this movie#like there’s a clear estrangement between some of the main characters that honestly..stiles feared! we know he did#and we know how hard he fought to hold onto everyone#like he was the glue between them and it would’ve been so sad to see that confirmed. he really WAS the glue#seriously. stiles dies. they all fall apart into little groups and fragments pieces of my HEART!!!! I would’ve bawled.#we could’ve had a closed casket funeral flashback! Scott tries to take Malia’s hand and she pulls away. boom Scali breakup explained!#*​scalia (obvi)#and I feel it would’ve been more evocative emotionally to see Lydia grapple with guilt#that stiles died (in her mind at least) because she was too selfish to heed her power’s warning and keep away from him#it would’ve made the moments where Eli is SOOO similar to stiles HURT more for us as an audience AND to the characters who would see it too#like. raise the stakes! heighten Derek’s (and all of their) fierce protectiveness for this baby !!#make us ACHE thinking about the cycle of it all. how this kid is Scott but he’s also stiles and he’s (literally) a little bit of Derek and—#also this is another thing but I’m also pissed that Liam and Mason had like ZERO interactions lmfao theyre fucking besties ??? or#if they’re not anymore then you should TELL US THAT!!!#I wanna know why Scalia broke up and why she’s fucking Parrish FR#for REALLLL it’s so left field and don’t get me started on what they did to her character and how it highlights Stiles’ absence further#also I miss Theo. to ME he’s under the Hale’s wings. to ME he’s a mechanic and an artist and him and Liam are boyfriends. haters stay mad#TAKES A DEEP BREATH.#okay I think I’m done for now#I can’t figure out how to add a read more on mobile so I hope tagging for spoilers will be good enough (!)#teen wolf#teen wolf movie#teen wolf movie spoilers#teen wolf spoilers#tw#…. I mentioned Dean so.#supernatural finale#supernatural spoilers#alright. bases covered?#long post
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voltronisanobsession · 7 months
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A small teen wolf thought I had
I’m really missing season 1 Stiles, so let’s imagine him having a crush on reader😍
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We all know how Stiles had an enormous crush on Lydia, it was absolutely devastating tbh. Like this dude was lowkey devoted to her💀💀
So what if a new student (reader) moved into town and it’s love at first sight for him. He’d bump into you after rambling to Scott about whatever was on his mind and knocks your binder and books to the ground.
Helping you pick up your stuff, right when he’s giving you your notebook, he’d look up and just. Stare. Cuz ZOOWEEMAMA YOURE ABSOLUTELY STUNNING IN HIS EYES
You’re busy thanking him and apologizing for the collision, waiting for him to let go of the notebook, voice slowly fading out when you notice him just staring at you with his mouth slightly open.
“Thanks for helping me. Can I have my book?”
“Uh huh.”
“…”
“…”
“Stiles, you know you have to let go of the notebook.” Scott is trying his best not to slam his head in a locker when his friend still doesn’t let go LMAO
Your chuckle snaps him out of whatever daze he was in, causing him to blush and apologize awkwardly. You’d smile at him and in good nature, joke about it and walk away, leaving him in awe.
Most people would normally give him the stink eye, but seeing how you joked about it made his heart flutter a bit.
Everything is HISTORY after that. If you have any classes with Stiles, you already KNOW he’s gonna try and sit as close to you as possible. Teacher assigns partner or group projects? He’s springing out of his seat and going to you first. You both have the same lunch period? He’s inviting you to sit with him and his friends. You’re having trouble with a certain class? Man, he’s already offering to help you after school, you’ll nail that test with flying colors!
You just get him! You like his sarcasm and MIRACULOUSLY understand his random references from movies and video games! With all the time you guys spend together, his crush on you grows more and more.
You appreciate how Stiles is so interested in the things you like and dislike. You love how he asks why you enjoy a certain movie despite the terrible reviews it got. Why you dislike an artist he just began listening to. You both love the same things, but have different opinions on everything, every conversation flows so naturally with him that you can’t help but develop a crush on him too.
You’ve never met anyone as eccentric and energetic as him, he never fails to bring a smile to your face teehee
Stiles is the type to remember every little, seemingly insignificant, thing about his crush. When your birthday rolls around, this dude has so many gifts ready😭 a warm feeling fills you when you open one gift to see it’s an item you’ve mentioned in a passing convo yall had MONTHS ago
He’s so sweet and kind with you too like don’t get me started. Stiles just enjoys being around you and seeing you happy makes him happy. SEASON 1 STILES IS THE DEFINITION OF PUPPY LOVE LIKE UGGHH
Takes you out on late night drives, barges into your room through the window with any takeout food you’ve been craving. Hed even take you out on a mini ‘date’ to the local arcade!!! his dad sees how much you mean to his son and is super happy that Stiles is happy. Loves when you come over to study with him, he’s always telling you stories about when stiles was younger (he would definitely cover your ears with his hands and speak loudly over his dad LMAO)
I’m telling y’all, stiles having a crush on you is the cutest thing ever, especially if you reciprocate his feelings!!!When you guys get together, cuz it’s not a matter of if with his friends, you’re the ultimate duo.
He’d confess his feelings for you in the most cheesiest way ever, probably during or after a school dance cuz why not.
UGH I NEED TO WRITE MORE STILES STUFF I LIVE HIM SM‼️ HE WAS NEVER THE SAME AFTER SEASON 3😭😭😭
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murdrdocs · 1 month
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she’s driving me crazy
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description. STILES STILINSKI finally gets another chance with you, and he won’t take it for granted
includes. SMUT 18+, riding, car sex, fem!reader, protective p n v, lots of making out, loser!stiles, awkward stiles, bi!stiles, exes getting back together, slightly manipulative reader, reader has easily malleable hair, reader wears makeup, drinking (but no drunk intercourse), bickering, scott guest appearance
wc. 6k+
a/n: long awaited stiles fic. bestie boo this one's for u. title from confidence by ocean alley. art credits unknown.
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Stiles knows he fucked up. 
He had you, after almost a full year of tortuous pining, and he let you slip through his hands. All of it, your relationship with Stiles, really didn’t last more than two months. Two months where date nights were rain checked and eventually canceled. Sleepovers were lackluster, and nothing more than a movie playing in the back while Stiles worked over something that wouldn’t rest in his brain, leaving you alone in the center of his unmade bed. Promises were made, and never kept. It was a mess, a horrible, murky mess of Stiles’ own creation. 
He knows this. But he still allows himself to mourn what could have been. He grieves what was. All while nursing a warm beer that doesn’t sit well in his stomach, mostly because of the sight he has been doomed to acknowledge—also his own doing as he could definitely turn his gaze elsewhere. 
You’re tucked under the arm of some guy who looks nothing like Stiles, and he doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse. Is that your dream guy? Or are you forcing yourself to branch out and try something that wasn’t him? He tries to resist the spiral that sends him on, and is only able to start crawling out of the self-deprecating and insecurity tunnel through Scott’s voice beside him. 
“What’re you staring at?” 
Scott reeks of alcohol and fruit-flavored syrup. If he wasn’t a werewolf, Stiles knows his best friend would be unable to stand straight by now. But Scott stands like his usual self next to Stiles, a big grin on his face probably from the attention he’s been getting from Kira. (It was sickening for Stiles to watch but he forced himself to be happy for the strong relationship his best friend has.)
Stiles’ immediate instinct is to lie. “Nothing.” He says it a little too fast. He tries to cover his slip up by taking a sip of his beer, but the flavor is unappealing to the point where the face of disgust he presents makes him look more guilty than he really is. 
Scott stares at Stiles, waiting. Stiles knows he won’t lie to Scott, not about something this small anyway, and it is only a matter of a few seconds before Stiles sighs. 
“Look,” he points at you and your suitor. “Don’t you think he’s making her uncomfortable? Look at that. He’s all over her. Probably reeks of Axe body spray.”
It’s then that the guy cracks another joke, your head throwing back in laughter just before you rest your ear against his chest. It’s so affectionate. As if you’ve known this guy for years, and not just mere minutes. 
Stiles flicks his eyes over to Scott, expecting to see his best friend analyzing the situation with at least a small amount of attention that Stiles is. Instead, Scott is looking over at Stiles, wearing what Stiles can only describe as a knowing smirk on his lips. 
Stiles steps back, a little bewildered. “What?” 
Scott, annoyingly, shrugs. He sips his drink, one he has solely for taste as Stiles knows, and only responds once he’s taken a long, slow swallow. 
“She seems fine to me. I thought you guys were broken up anyway.” 
“We are!” 
“Then why do you care so much?” 
Stiles can’t help but petulantly roll his eyes. He turns to face you and your human shaped bag of bricks once again, gesturing for Scott to do the same. His mouth opens, lips parted and tongue ready to spew out the analytics he’d been gathering this entire time in lieu of an excuse. 
Then Scott interrupts. 
“Do you want me to see what’s going on?” Scott throws a finger up towards his ear, one eyebrow lifted as he waits for Stiles to gather the implications and then make a decision. 
It takes Stiles longer to complete the latter than the former. 
He waits, thinks, looks at you and the guy. And then remembers the strict ‘no listening’ rule you all have set in place, the one he most definitely won’t betray in the name of jealousy, even if you aren’t particularly aware of all of the intricacies. 
When he sighs, it’s defeated and with his entire body. He knows he’s pouting, he assumes he resembles his teenage self—mopey and brooding. He doesn’t mean to speak through gritted teeth, but he ends up doing it anyway. 
“No. She’s probably … fine. I guess.” It hurts to admit, deep in Stiles' jealousy-filled gut. Scott’s way of comforting him is by clapping a hand on his shoulder, and telling him that you’re a grown adult who is allowed to make her own decisions, the same as him. 
Scott’s intentions aren’t understood until he points at someone in the opposite direction of you. A guy who, from the looks of it, has been eyeing Stiles for a while. He’s Stiles’ type. Exactly his type, actually, and Scott knows this. 
“Instead of sulking around …” Scott doesn’t need to finish his sentence in order for Stiles to understand. He only lingers for a few seconds, and then is pulled back towards the larger group by Kira’s eyes and grin. 
The guy on the other side of the bar is still watching Stiles. He’s smiling a small but confident smile, like he knows Stiles wants him as much as he wants Stiles. He tilts his head in a beckon, and Stiles is close to letting the guy pull him over there. Until he sees you step away from the man, smile dismissively up to him, and start towards Stiles instead. 
Instantly, it’s like a flip has been switched. 
He starts to feel the effects of the alcohol, even though he’d been nursing the same bottle the entire night. Still, he chooses to attribute the buzz flowing throughout his body to the overpriced beer and not excitement of finally having your attention. 
He watches your path, trying not to feel too disappointed as he takes notice of the way you’re struggling to walk in a straight line. 
You fall into his arms in a fit of giggles. Your head resting on his chest, your hands circling around his back. 
“Stiles,” you sing, long and drawn out and definitely drunk.  
He repeats your name in the same tune, placing his drink onto a tabletop next to him and abandoning it for good. Keeping you away from self destruction is his new main priority. 
You slump against him even more, turning yourself around and leaning back against his body. Your position leaves Stiles with nothing else to do other than stand stiffly. He knows that if you were sober, you wouldn’t be nearly as affectionate as you are now. He ignores the way your ass brushes against his crotch. He ignores the smell of your perfume wafting up to him, a scent he had the privilege of seeing you apply a few times before when you were dating. (The image of you getting ready for the day, lathering yourself in the oils and lotions and scents that worked to create your unique scent will never leave his brain, for better or for worse.)
He does his best to remain unaffected, but then you tilt your head up, the crown of your hair rubbing against Stiles’ shirt as you look at him. As soon as he glances down, he sees you pouting, clearly over exaggerated but it’s a look he, pathetically, will never be able to resist. 
“Why won’t you touch me?” You manage to sound pitiful, as if you had lost every single thing you hold dear to your heart in the last couple of minutes. 
In his response, he tries to remain neutral. Drunk or not, you know the game you’re playing, and Stiles foolishly believes that his knowledge of the ploy makes him insusceptible. 
“Because you’re drunk,” he platonically rests his hands on your shoulders and encourages you off of him. “And we aren’t together anymore.” 
You turn around to face him, grinning up at him like the cat with the canary as you tell him, “it didn’t stop us last time, right?”
That, and the way you almost throw yourself at some guy walking past, is enough reason for Stiles to link his hand in yours and pull you towards the others. Scott stares down at your interlinked palms for only a moment before Stiles explains his plan, which entails getting you back to your apartment before you do something you could regret. 
This isn’t an excuse for Stiles to continue hanging out with you. He makes sure he clarifies that to himself and his best friend before he’s pulling you out of the bar and towards his Jeep.
You’re both less than ten steps away from the entrance to the bar when you suddenly have your lips pressed to Stiles’. 
There is a moment where Stiles fails to resist. Where he reciprocates quicker than his brain can realize, acting on pure instinct and muscle memory instead of logic. He is unable to stop himself from getting comfortable, from linking this kiss to the last one he’d received from you. Hotter and messier than this one. (Lost in his appreciation to finally be kissing you again, Stiles fails to notice how you don’t taste like alcohol at all)
Only a few more seconds pass before Stiles reminds himself that you’re drunk, and that this is wrong. When he pulls away from your lips—regretfully, that is—he’s tempted into staying by the slight stickiness of your lipgloss and the almost-disgusting string of saliva that briefly keeps you two sewn together. 
You try to lean back in, but Stiles stops you with his hands on your shoulders. 
“You’re drunk,” he reminds you. 
You’re fixing him with a look, one that feels strong and weirdly sober. His suspicions have more proof to back them up when you say his name with the same matter-of-fact tone he had just used on you. 
“I’m not drunk.” 
He scrunches his eyebrows together, the muscles in his face mimicking the movement as well. His lips part as he nonverbally exclaims his confusion. He lifts one of his hands from your shoulder to hook his thumb towards the bar entrance. He looks around, for nothing or no one in particular, but as if the night will have an explanation that you would surely be willing to provide if he asks. 
He didn’t even need to ask before you provide an explanation. It’s cut and dry, matter-of-fact, spoken like it is the most casual thing in the world. 
“I faked being drunk so you could take me home.” 
Stiles knows what you mean. He’s not dumb. But he surely does feel it when he says, “If you didn’t feel well you could’ve just told Lydia. She would’ve taken you back to yours.” 
You roll your eyes. “If you don’t wanna sleep with me, that’s fine. Just let me know before I waste my time.” 
Stiles should stand up for himself. He should reprimand your attitude, and exclaim how unnecessary it was. Instead, he flounders and almost falls to your feet with the speed he clarifies himself. 
“No. I do wanna sleep with you. Like, really bad. But … um … well,” you lift your eyebrows and Stiles clears his throat. “How many fingers am I holding up.” 
“Jesus, fuck, Stiles.” He continues holding up his first three fingers on his right hand until you answer. “Three.” 
You lean in but Stiles takes a step back. And then another. And then another, until he’s standing against the wall of the bar and you’re standing at the edge of the sidewalk. 
“Walk in a straight line towards me.” 
You don’t seem happy about it, but you place one foot in front of the other over and over again until you’re in front of Stiles. Nothing more has to be said before Stiles places his hands on your hips, pulls you flush to him, and finally allows himself to kiss you. 
It’s been a while since Stiles had the privilege of kissing you. The last time, just a month ago, didn’t count in his mind. Sure, he remembered nearly every detail, but your shared inebriated state at the time overruled any legitimacy the encounter could have held. Now, it only acts as a reminder and motivator for Stiles to enjoy every moment of this that he can. 
Eventually, it would be smart, and preferable, to leave the outside of the bar and actually take you home where you two could be alone. But for now, Stiles presses his hands into the middle of your back as a way to pull you as close to him as possible. He has his legs spread, creating space for your limbs to stagger. Your hands rest on his shoulders, then at the back of his neck, then in his hair. Both of you are attempting to get as close to the other as possible, all while engaging in the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever had. You both kissed cleaner when you were drunk. 
Now, outside this bar with your closest friends inside, and with nothing but the night (and the bouncer) as witness, you submit to the other. There is a level of appreciation in the way your lips slide together. There is a level of gratitude in the presses of your tongues against each other. There is an exorbitant amount of longing that is solved each time you jerk your hips into Stiles and each time he reciprocates. 
You thread your hands through Stiles’ hair the same time that he slides his hands down to your ass and squeezes, pulling you as close to him as possible and rubbing his thigh against the center seam of your jeans. You both groan into each other's mouths—Stiles from the way you tug just right on his hair, and you from the feeling of his leg between yours. 
Sensing—knowing that he did something right, something good, Stiles does it again. And again. And again. The steady slide of his thigh between your legs does the job. You let your head fall, leaning the top of it against Stiles’ chest just right under his sternum. 
The sound of you moaning Stiles’ name goes straight to his dick, with a few remnants traveling to his head, leaving him dizzy and with a steady growing semi. His actions make you grip his hair stronger. His actions indirectly cause pleasure for him, too. 
It all disappears when the sound of spitting—loud and boisterous, almost cartoonish—breaks up the moment. Stiles stops his movements. He lays his hands flat on the back pockets of your jeans as he turns his head to the side. 
The eyes of the bouncer meet Stiles and Stiles’ ears burn. 
While the bouncer doesn’t say anything to him, Stiles knows the message he’s trying to communicate. 
Get the fuck out of here. 
Stiles is forced to push you back by hooking his fingers in your belt loops. He’s still touching you, at least an extension of you, but then your hands drop to your sides and Stiles can feel his body crying out for you. The same way his body calls out for vital needs—food, water, sleep, entertainment. He squashes his emotions for a second, plasters on a—truthfully sympathetic—face, one that comes off more as a tight lipped smile than anything else. 
“Sorry, man. You — uh. You have a goodnight.” He throws a hand up to the bouncer, hoping it is received as friendly. When the bouncer returns the gesture, still with that same look in his eyes, Stiles heads down the street and pulls you with him. 
The walk to the car is tortuous. His boner keeps rubbing against his jeans, leaving him to stop every few paces, face away from the street, and try to adjust himself. After the third time, you were voicing your frustration, claiming that it was taking forever to reach the car because of Stiles’ worry about who could see his erection. He tries things your way, ignoring the way his dick calls for his attention and instead focusing all of his attention on you. 
The way your hips sway in your tight jeans. The way the wind blows your perfume to him and lifts the edge of your shirt in one, giving Stiles a peek of your skin. It’s such a small look, nothing more than a glimpse, and Stiles feels like a Victorian man the way he’s having to bite his fist at the next crosswalk to avoid groaning. The street lights illuminate your face in just the right ways, highlighting your makeup in an unnaturally ethereal way. Everything about you is driving Stiles crazy. There’s no way he’s going to make it to your house. If he doesn’t get to his car soon, he might pull you into the next bar bathroom that he could find just for a semblance of privacy. 
If he could just get to his Jeep. 
It’s then that Stiles realizes he’s been walking for far too long. He stops in the center of the sidewalk. You stop right beside him. 
Stiles doesn’t say anything as he turns around and leads you three blocks down the street, one street over, and then into the parking garage elevator. 
The way you’re grinning at him alerts Stiles of the words soon to come out of your mouth, definitely words that would be at his expense. He stops you while you’re ahead. 
It’s nice to have the position switched. Your back against the wall instead of his. His hands are still on your hips, but he uses them to push you into the metal instead of pulling you into him. You have that part covered, your arms once more thrown over his shoulders, pressed into the back of his neck and head, drawing him in until the pressure of his lips against yours is a little painful. 
In the rush neither of you have pushed the button, leaving the elevator stagnant on the ground floor. Stiles notices at the same time that you scratch his scalp. He moans, he really can’t help it. His mouth opens as you purse your lips again, and he feels a little bad but you aren’t deterred. In fact, you do it again, your nails scratching in just the right spot and Stiles feels like an animal the way he shudders and keens. 
He’s more human when he admits, “Missed this.” He presses his lips to yours again, pulling back with a smack. “Missed you.” 
Your lips slide against his with what Stiles can only describe as desperation. Pure, unadulterated desperation and desire. You’re breathing a little heavy, deep exhales through your nose and inhales in the in between moments, and it doesn’t turn Stiles off at all. He wants more of you. He takes more of you. 
He doesn’t know how long you two are in there, but it is eventually you who pulls back first, your lips visibly swollen and lacking any of the makeup that was previously on it. 
“Has the elevator been moving at all?” You could check for yourself. Just one look over Stiles’ shoulder and you could see that the small screen still displayed a digital ‘1’. Yet, you’re looking up at him instead. Like Stiles is the most important thing in the elevator. Like he’s the most important thing in the world to you. (Maybe it’s Stiles’ delusion talking, but he chooses to believe it either way)
Still, Stiles looks over his shoulder, confirms that he hadn’t hit the button at all, and leans back to correct his mistakes. 
The elevator beeps twice, bringing you both to the third floor, and as much as Stiles’ wants to continue standing there and just admire you, he can hear the door daring to slide close. Again, he pulls you out behind him. 
As soon as he turns the corner, Stiles is immediately made aware of the lack of other cars on the level. It’s a little eerie, and if he wasn’t about to get his dick wet he would possibly be on the lookout for potential threats that could turn one of the best moments of his life into another inconvenience. 
Your hands are on his shoulders, his back, his arms, as you hold onto him. 
“Why did you park all alone? Did you plan this? Were you trying to get in my pants all night?” 
Stiles digs into the front pocket of his jeans and searches for his keys. “No. There were other people parked here earlier. They’re just all gone now.” 
You hum unconvincingly. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Stiles.” 
As soon as Stiles has the passenger door unlocked, he holds the door open for you and stares, hoping the annoyance is overpowering every other feeling he’s currently having towards you. 
“In the back,” he tells you. You smile up at him, big and entertained, and then do as he says. 
He climbs in right behind you. At this point in the night, there was no point in attempting to get back to your apartment or his. Stiles couldn’t wait much longer, and you two are no stranger to the back of his Jeep. You’ve been in this situation before. 
It’s all completely effortless. You’re already in the process of slipping your jeans off whenever Stiles has the door closed. He mourns for just a second, pouting to himself over not being the one to take those sinful jeans off of you. But then you climb over his lap, situating yourself to hover just a bit above him. 
Stiles plants his hands on your hips, just like he did before, and pulls you to sit right over him, just like you have before. He knows that the status of your relationship has changed since the last time he had the privilege of being in this space with you like this, but that doesn’t mean the way you do things has to change, too. 
You were never shy before. You would always be quick to attach yourself to Stiles in whatever ways you could, just like you had been doing just a little earlier into the night. But that’s gone now. Now, you’re staring at him, your teeth pressed into your bottom lip. 
Before you were together for a short time, Stiles had spent months pining. Months analyzing whatever he could about you. Months mentally cataloging your tells. And now, he calls on that information to declare that you’re hesitant. You’re nervous. No, not just nervous. You’re worried. Almost regretful. 
He tilts his head. “What’s wrong?” 
You shrug but Stiles knows you’re aware of what has you like this. He just gives you the time to voice it. 
Eventually, you say: “Will this change anything between us?” 
It’s his turn to shrug. “I dunno. Do you want anything to change?” 
You shrug again. 
“Well … do you want to keep going? And we decide that afterwards?” Stiles really wants to fuck you, but deep down he knows that if you stopped and got up off of him in this moment, he would be okay with it. Well, he would be okay with it after a few days. Maybe a week or two. 
A little part in him swells, jumps, and clicks its heels when you nod. 
“Yeah. That sounds good.” You press your lips to his once. 
“You just tell me when you decide, okay? I’m cool with whatever you’re cool with.” And Stiles means that. If he gets just one more time with you, if this is his final time with you, he would cut his losses and be grateful for the time that he was allowed. What else was he supposed to do? He would never dream of doing anything that could jeopardize his spot in your life. 
Stiles can feel the warmth of your center is his hand when he trails his touch down. He cups your mound and his eyes flutter shut. He feels like a pervert for only a second before you start to work your lips down his neck and rock your hips into his hand. The way your mouth suctions around his favorite spot almost has him distracted enough to not notice your hands working on his pants. Almost. 
He can’t really tell in the dark, but he can slightly feel your once confident movements start to falter. You stop on his neck, keeping your lips as nothing but a pucker against his skin before you pull away completely to look down between the two of you. 
“When the fuck did you start wearing a belt?” 
Stiles doesn’t want to tell you the truth, he feels like it would be too embarrassing. Really, he knows it wouldn’t, but something about having to tell you that he decided to wear a belt because you always said he should makes him feel a little meek. So instead of filling the silence with the truth, he fills the silence with the clinks of his belt buckle as he undos it himself. 
“Recently,” is all he tells you when you’re still staring at him for a response. Somehow, it’s enough for you and your hands are back on his waistband. 
In record speed, your hands are down the elastic of his boxers and wrapping around Stiles’ cock. He doesn’t hiss, but he does shudder. He tries to hide it by pretending that the car is cold, which it was beforehand, but now it’s warm. It becomes warmer when you spit in your hand, wrap it around Stiles’ cock and pump him a few times, and then push your underwear to the side and hover above him. 
It really pains Stiles to stop you, but he does. He asks if you have a condom, then he asks if you want to use a condom, and the entire time he’s kicking himself. Because he can feel the warmth radiating. He has his tip already nudged between your folds, and just this small touch is already making him lose it. His nails are digging into your hips, he’s breathing harder than he was before, and he has to blink a few times to really focus on you. 
It feels like Stiles blinks and suddenly you’re tearing the foil packet open and slipping the condom over him. He watches it go down as best as he can, and the light doesn’t reveal much. Just the bottom of you and the tip of him is visible, the rest Stiles is forced to make out through squints and memorization. 
He’s just briefly dejected about the lack of visuals, but then your hands rest on his shoulders and he hears you take a breath and he knows it’s time. 
Stiles rests his hands on your side and looks up at you. 
You go down slowly. Softly. It allows Stiles to feel each delicious inch as they go by, revealing more and more of the inside of you as time passes. He battles between watching your face and simply basking in it. Eventually, he settles on the former. 
Your eyebrows are tightened just enough to show your discomfort. You have your lips parted, long breaths leaving them every so often, usually right before you sink down again. And Stiles has seen you take him before. He knows that you have been able to take him faster than this before. And then he wonders: is this your first time doing this, with anyone, in a while? Have you been as lost without him as he has been without you? Have you even attempted to fill that hole, and was your stunt earlier tonight just that: a stunt?
There isn’t time for him to ponder over his questions like he would have wanted to whenever you bottom out. It’s with a sigh, the back of your thighs meeting the top of his just briefly. 
You rest your forehead against his, and you both breathe together. Or, it’s more so you breathing and Stiles matching the pattern. 
You lean up, you move your hair out of your face, and you tell him, “Don’t remember it being this hard.” 
Slightly cocky, Stiles tilts his head.  At first he doesn’t say anything. He smiles, his eyes are heavy when they look you up and down, and then he rubs your back. “Take your time.” 
You take the time you need and then you start moving. Up and down. Up and down. Agonizingly slowly at first, and then faster when you get more comfortable. 
This is what Stiles has needed. This is what he has been missing in his life. You’re like a drug for him, and one hit seems like enough at the time, but by the time this is all over he knows he’s going to be searching for more. He’ll do anything he has to, so long as it gets him in a spot similar to this again. 
He searches for your hand, refusing to look away from the way your body moves atop of him for even a second. You help him out, bringing your hand to his, pressing the fingertips together, leaving Stiles to interlock them. He lifts your hands, looking at them in the white light that enters the foggy window. Somehow, this image is even more captivating. There is a more pornographic way the two of you are connected, one that demands Stiles’ attention. There is something about the innocence of this. He’s doing nothing but holding your hand, and Stiles feels like he might either lose his mind, or cum too quickly. 
He might do both. One after the other. 
You sink down on him again, a little awkwardly this time, but it does it for you. You hit a spot that makes your mouth widen and your eyes flutter shut. You search for it, and find it miraculously. Your head throws back as you hit that spot over and over again, pleasing yourself on Stiles’ dick. The image is heavenly for him. It’s euphoric. 
He lets his eyes wander down your neck, along your clavicle, and your shirt reveals just a bit of your bust but it’s not enough. With his free hand, he pulls the rest of the fabric down, and when he sees that you’re not wearing a bra, he almost cums into the condom then and there. He doesn’t wonder how he hadn’t noticed, he doesn't consider how he hadn’t taken into account the natural shape of your breasts pushing through the fabric, almost reaching out to him. Instead, he leans forward, presses his hand into the curve of your back, and attaches his mouth to the untouched skin. 
Your free hand sinks into Stiles’ hair. Your fingers weave through the back of his hair first, and then you make your way up to the front, pushing back his bangs blindly. 
Stiles peers up at you from his spot around your nipples. You’re still in ecstasy—your head now level once more, but your mouth still open and your eyes still closed. 
He detaches from your nipple to tell you: “Look at me.” 
It fuels Stiles’ ego when you do as told quickly. 
You’re looking at him on his command yet Stiles feels like he’s the one entranced. Because of your eyes. Fuck, your eyes. Watery, lazy, but your pupils are dilated. Your mascara has transferred to under your eyes by now, and it’s smudged a bit, making you look completely fucked out. Stiles thinks some of your makeup along your face has disappeared too, but it allows for a fresh skinned appearance instead. 
Really, there is nothing else for him to do except kiss you. It’s so messy but so good. You flatter in your movements on his cock, but Stiles feels absolutely no remorse when he takes over. 
He unlocks your hands and plants them both on your hips again. This time, he uses the leverage to pull you down on him again and again. He lets you lead the kiss, while he leads this. 
Your hands land on the leather of the seat behind Stiles' back and the foggy glass pane of the window. He hears your fingertips glide down the surface as he starts to fuck you harder, and then the sound is combined with your moans when your lips separate from Stiles’. 
You call his name, low and breathy. 
He hums. 
“‘m so close. Keep going. Just like that.” He nods. Then you add, “Little faster.” And he does as told. 
Your forehead pressed against his, the sweat on both of your skin making your heads glide more than anticipated. It doesn’t deter either of you. When your nose bumps against Stiles’, he kisses you again. When your head becomes too heavy for you to hold it up, he presses his thumb under your jaw, rests his fingers on the side of your neck, and holds the weight for you. 
“You’re so pretty,” he tells you, adding your name at the end to seal the deal. “Baby,” he says, and his heart swells when you hum in response. So he says it again. “Baby, you feel so good. Feel so good, babe.” 
He doesn’t know what more he says. He can vaguely recognize his lips forming the words and his own voice in his ears calling you the prettiest girl ever, telling you that he could never get this anywhere else, telling you he never wanted to get this from anywhere else. 
“Needed this so bad. I needed you so bad. I’ve missed you.” And just as his words finish, yours begin. 
“Stiles, Stiles. Right there. ‘m … I’m…!” 
He singles two fingers out, slips them between your thighs, and rubs along your clit until you’re shaking above him and holding onto his wrist between your bodies. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to pull him closer or push him away, but watching you cum is too gorgeous for him to ever dream of making it stop. 
So he doesn’t. 
Not even when your eyes start to leak and your lips start to plead and you contract around him. 
“One more,” he asks. “I just need to see it one more time. Please.” 
The sound of him moving in and out of you is loud. He drifts his eyes down to watch it happen, groaning when he just barely sees a broken ring of white glinting in the fluorescents from the parking garage. 
It feels a little romantic when you cum and then Stiles follows right after. 
The Jeep is warm, the windows are foggy, and there’s an ache in Stiles’ thighs. He knows for every one of his aches, you have three. The condom has been removed, tied, and disposed of in an old paper bag Stiles had sitting on the floor of his car. His pants are pulled back up, but his belt is still undone. His shirt sticks to his skin and he really needs greasy food and a shower. 
But if that means leaving this moment, and never returning to it, he could put off his needs and wants for an eternity. 
You’re sitting next to him, redressed with the button of your jeans still undone. You’re staring straight ahead, trying to catch your breath as you rub the muscles in your thighs. 
Stiles doesn’t know what to say, so he licks his lips and he says, “Uh … do you … um. Would you like some … ice or something? For your legs?” 
You smile ahead, turn to face him, and shake your head. “It’ll be fine. Nothing a shower and good sleep won’t fix.” You pause. “And maybe some food.” 
Which is how Stiles ends up sitting in your bed, sipping the remnants of his Dr. Pepper as he watches you lather lotion on your legs with your towel still hanging off of your body. 
“Your food’s cold,” he tells you. He doesn’t tell you about the handful of fries he stole earlier, but he knows you’ll notice it and hold the grudge for later. 
Later. Will there be a ‘later’? 
“Be there in a second.” You start to walk back to the bathroom. “Should we go to that place in the morning? Or …” you look at your clock and wince at the time. “Later. The one with the really good pancakes?” 
Stiles is quick to agree. He would love to do something with you later. 
680 notes · View notes
messylustt · 1 year
Note
hii since u said you’d do something for stilinski can i request a fic where the alpha twins were just introduced and stiles and reader (best friends) like each other (everyone in the pack knows but them) and reader thinks stiles doesn’t like her so they start hanging out with the twins more and stiles gets jealous and it’s like a angry love confession and maybe smut?
++ thank u so much for taking the time to read & write this!! your writing is actually making me happy as sappy as that sounds💗💗
i need to watch teen wolf again — that shit was gooood, and thank you so much ur actually so sweet 🥹
౨ৎ ‧˚ 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬
jealous stiles; kissing; sorry no actual p in v — stiles getting jealous over the blooming friendship between you and the twins
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"I want one." Lydia said, eyes focused behind you and Allison.
You both turn in your chairs to see the two new twins talking by a bookshelf. "Which one?" Allison asked, turning back. You kept your gaze on the twins, mainly for the fact that they were said—by your strange friend group—to be alphas.
Why they chose to go to school you could only guess. Most likely not to actually enjoy classes, but to keep an eye on said strange friend group.
"The straight one." You answered for Lydia. "I'd hope." You turn back in your chair to see Lydia narrowing her eyes.
You smile, just as Stiles slumps in the free chair beside you. Scott taking one beside Lydia. You glance back around at the twins, tilting your head in a slight observation.
Then you feel a poke on your arm. You turn your head to face Stiles, who is eyeing you with furrowed brows. "What are you looking at?"
"Our new classmates." You say, gazing back.
"You know they're alphas, right?" Stiles asks, making you nod. "Like, deadly...scary alphas?" He re-asks narrowing his eyes, as you chuckle.
"I heard they can shift into...like...one big werewolf." You say, in slight awe.
Stiles scoffs. "It's not that impressive."
"It kind of is." You mutter. Then you hear your seat scraping against the floor as Stiles jolts you around to face away from the twins.
"Do you know the distinction between friends and enemies?" Stiles asks, making you scoff. "Scott, did you know that y/n's rather stupid?" He asks Scott, making you elbow his arm.
"Yeah. She thinks the twins are cool." He continues, as you try to shut him up with your hand.
"I'm not the only one." You say defensively, before gesturing to Lydia, who is still eyeing up the straight twin.
"Well that's...Lydia." Stiles grabs your wrist, removing your hand from his mouth.
"Wow, your reasoning is impeccable, Stiles."
Stiles tilts his head at your sarcasm, the edges of his lips curving up a fraction. You get your wrist out of his grip before looking at Lydia—Allison and Scott caught up in conversation. "It's called having taste, Stiles."
Stiles raises his brows. "Taste?" He nearly exclaims. "Did you get hit in the head?"
"Alright...I'm gonna head to science." You say, ignoring stiles, standing, as the others spare you 'goodbyes'.
Stiles calls to your leaving form. "You have zero taste, y/n. Nada!"
You chuckle as you walk out into the hall. Stiles has been your best friend for almost forever. You enjoyed his jokes and even his incessant sarcasm. But you hated the fact that whenever he smiled butterflies would swarm your stomach. Whenever he would look at you a certain way your cheeks would pinken.
You had to brush it all way, knowing he wouldn't feel the same. And ruining such a long friendship would be horrible. Your mind is caught as you nearly collide with someone.
"Shit— sorry." You say looking up, holding a tighter grip on your notes.
One of the alpha twins stares back at you, a small smirk edging his lips. You quickly take in his appearance and the way he holds himself. "And I'd take it your the...straight one?"
He chuckles before beginning to nod. "Aiden." He introduces.
You nod. "Nice to meet you."
He raises his brows awaiting your own introduction. You go to speak, opening your mouth, but pause, seeming to remember exactly who Aiden is. "Will I be in danger if you know my name?" You whisper ask.
Aiden leans down to whisper back. "You might be safe."
"I might?" You ask, raising your brows.
Aiden smirks. "A pretty face usually makes it far."
Your mouth partly opens in slight shock. "Ha. So, you are a flirt." You straighten up. "Lydia's gonna love you."
"Mm, and what about you?" He asks, brushing a strand of hair away from your shoulder.
You chuckle. "Again—Lydia's gonna love you." You then step around him, walking into your class.
Stiles had seen one of the alpha twins follow you out. And of course, with a narrowed gaze—he followed him. He stopped upon seeing the twin speaking to you. Stiles' grip on the doorway was tight as he watched. A scowl formed as he saw the twin brush your hair over your shoulder, you chuckling about something.
What the hell were you talking about?—Stiles wondered, wishing he had scott's hearing. His stomach had tightened the moment he saw you with him. Hating seeing you smile at the enemy. But it wasn't just for the sake that it was the twin you were talking to. Stiles would feel like it no matter what dude it was. He wanted you to smile at him like that. Not someone else.
When you passed the twin for your class Stiles saw the way he eyed your form before leaving for his own class. Stiles scoffed to himself, glaring holes into the back of the alpha's head. No way was that beast getting you.
A few days had passed and through the halls you had caught yourself talking to the twins. It started off brief, just passing nods and a few hello's. But then you started picking up conversations where you'd left off the next time you'd pass eachother.
Stiles saw as you would wave at them or smile, them cracking a joke or a compliment. On the occasion that he would walk with you, Stiles' expression couldn't be more gloomy. You'd bump his shoulder making a comment on the "glare" he'd mastered, but Stiles' couldn't laugh, only hearing Aiden's compliments on your outfit or hair.
At first he didn't want to acknowledge that he was jealous. Because then he'd have to remember his large crush on you. He had had to push it away, knowing you wouldn't feel the same. You were freinds, and Stiles hid behind that concept, forcing himself to reason his glares to him just being a good friend, not wanting you to date someone like Aiden.
But once the days drew out, you and the twins seeming to grow closer, Stiles finally accepted his jealousy. You were his friend not there's. So, when he saw you smile and blush at a compliment Aiden gave you, he couldn't help himself but grab your wrist and pull you somewhere secluded.
You swiftly turned to face Stiles as you stared at him in confusion. You both are in the boys locker room, it being empty—the laccrosse team not practicing today. "What the hell-"
"What the hell is that?" Stiles cuts you off angrily. You stare at him, brows furrowing.
"What?"
"That." Stiles gestured to the now closed door. "Them. The twins."
"Aiden and Ethan?" You ask.
Stiles scoffs at the first name basis. "Yeah, Aiden and Ethan."
"What about them?" You slowly ask, never really having seen Stiles so mad.
Stiles clenches his jaw, all the past days annoyance bubbling up. "What about them? Really, y/n?"
Your still displaying confusion, as Stiles steps closer. "Why the fuck are you talking to them?"
"You're mad at me becasue I've said hi?"
"Oh, you've said more than hi." Stiles scoffs. "You keep talking with them in the halls as if your the closest of friends."
"Look Stiles, I know you don't like them. And I know they aren't particually saints. But if you spoke to them you'd realise how not in control they are. Deucalion—"
"I don't care for their sobstory, y/n. And you shouldn't either. You barely know them." Stiles has progressively gotten closer, before he's backing away, running his hands through his hair in annoyance. "God." He mutters.
"Stiles." You say, making him meet your gaze. "What is this?" Your tone has stayed calm, not wanting to start an arguement with Stiles of all people. "Are you okay?"
"No, y/n. I'm not." He finally says, fully stepping closer. You slightly stumble back at how swift his movement was. "Why do you want to talk to them?"
"Stiles, they...they're nice. They make me feel good, strangely enough."
"They make you feel good?" Stiles asks, eyeing you.
"They make me laugh. They are quite funny." You mutter, seeing how close Stiles is getting.
"Oh." Stiles chuckles, though the humour is lost. "Aren't they just amazing. Making you laugh and smile. You even blush around Aiden."
Your cheeks begin to redden on embarrassment as you cough. "No, I don't."
"Yeah, you do. And it's really annoying." Stiles says. "You know what else is annoying?" You meet his gaze, pressing your lips together. "The fact that you're blushing for him right now."
You scoff. "I'm not."
You can feel Stiles' breath hit your face. "I really hope that's true."
"Stiles, why are you so angry about this?"
And he cracks. "Because I don't want you to like some rabid wolf, I want you to like me!"
Stiles freezes, processing what he just revealed. Fuck. You stare at him, mouth beginning to open.
"What..." You drift off, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.
"I-" Stiles begins, stepping back, shocked and incredibly nervous at his own words. "I didn't-"
"You...like me?" You slowly ask.
Stiles goes to shake his head for fear of your rejection, but then he thinks of Aiden, and switches to a small nod.
Now your shocked, confirmation that his first confession wasn't a slip up. Silence has engulfed the locker room and Stiles can't bear it. "Say something...please."
"I didn't know...you liked me like that." You mutter, your life long crush's words having taken a toll on you.
He couldn't let you date Aiden and now you knew why. But your moments of silence were crushing his heart. He began to step farther away, thinking he just ruined your friendship, when you quickly grabbed his cheeks, and kissed him.
Stiles eyes widened, before they became hooded, the feel of your soft lips making his stomach do somersaults. But then your pulling away far too soon, eyes wide, your own shock at what you just did easily visible.
But Stiles doesn't waste another moment, smashing his lips back to yours. You slightly stumbled back at the force as Stiles began to lick and eat at your lips. He groaned into your mouth when he was able to finally push himself against you, your back hitting a locker.
"Oh, god." Stiles muttered against your lips. "This means you like me back...right?" He asks as he began to kiss your cheek and jaw, leading all the way to your neck, as his hand slipt around your waist.
"No, Stiles." You sarcastically say, making him chuckle against your skin. You grab his face, bringing him back to your face. "Kissing you doesn't mean I like you." You kiss him, your tongues eagerly meeting.
"I'm glad you've picked up my sacrasm." He says, continusously kissing you. "Otherwise that would hurt."
You smile into the kiss, your head buzzing with this reality. You had begun to unbutton his jeans, making his breath hitch, but he quickly grabs your hand, making you meet his gaze in question. "I didn't like hearing that the twins make you feel good." Stiles says, putting your hands over his shoulders, as he lead one of his hands back down.
He unbuttoned your jeans, slipping his hand inside making you grip his shirt. "I want to make you feel good." Stiles kisses you, as he reaches your panties, pushing them aside as he finds your wetness. You jolt when his fingers find your clit. "Much better than them." He whispered as he began to rub your pussy, circling around.
"Christ." You whispered into his neck, before your head hit back against the locker.
Stiles trailed one finger to your hole, pushing inside, making you whimper. "At first I was hurt, because you were my friend not theirs." Stiles said as he pushed another finger inside you making your hips stutter. "But now that doesn't matter, because you can be their freind all you like." Stiles littered kisses along you collerbone and neck. "As long as I can kiss and touch you like this." He grinned against your skin as you moaned, his pace quickening.
"Oh, god— please." You breathe, finding your hand in his hair. You kiss him, letting your lips bruise as he laps at your tongue. Stiles then kisses your cheeks. "You look so cute when you blush."
Your cheeks had heated due to the actions given by Stiles. "I thought you got annoyed when I b-blushed."
Stiles chuckles, curling his fingers inside you. You pant, sweat forming across your forehead. "That's only because you were blushing for Aiden. But now your blushing for me." Stiles smiles. “All for me."
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dylobilysmomg · 3 months
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Motel Fever
𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟯.𝟭𝗸
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪! 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 (𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗽𝗻𝘃, 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀
𝗢𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁: 𝗦𝗻𝗮𝗽 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗢𝗳 𝗜𝘁 𝗯𝘆 𝗔𝗿𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
𝗔/𝗡: 𝗜 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝘄 𝗗𝘆𝗹𝗮𝗻’𝘀 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!
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𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗶𝗳!
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I groan from beside Allison, taking a look at the disaster coach calls a motel.
“I’ve seen worse.” Scott says, and I scoff. “Where have you see worse?” Stiles replies, rolling his eyes. I pull my jacket closer to my body, trying to shield myself from the wind the storm brings.
The track team circles up as Coach speaks up. “Listen up! The meet’s been pushed til tomorrow.” There’s a groan that comes from just about all of us in unison at that. “This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and the least amount of good judgment when it comes to accepting a bunch of…degenerates like yourselves. You’ll be pairing up, choose wisely.”
Me and Allison walk up and grab a key from Coach, checking out the number and practically stomping to our room. Scott and Stiles close behind us.
“And I’ll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants, got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!” Coach shouts as everyone makes their way to their rooms for the night.
“I can’t believe this. How much you wanna bet we wake up to a cancelled track meet tomorrow.” I complain, approaching our motel room, which is oh so conveniently right next to Scott and Stiles’ 𝘖𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵.
I stop at the door, waiting for Allison to unlock it, but she’s taking her sweet time chatting it up with Scott. Stiles whips past me, brushing my shoulder.
“Hey Stiles, will you and Scott do me a favor and keep the moans down tonight. I would rather not listen to you two get in on while I get my beauty sleep.” I taunt him, leaning against the door, burning time while I wait for Allison.
Stiles halts his actions of unlocking his door to turn to me, “Didn’t you hear the coach, Y/N? ‘𝘕𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.’ Or is that word too big for you? Need me to dumb it down?” He jabs and I scoff in his face.
“Oh I heard him all right. I just wonder if you did.” I counter, watching as he scoffs, tongue poking out to glide over his teeth.
“We’ll be quiet, Y/N/N. Besides, I don’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep; God knows you need it.” He says, and before I can come up with a comeback, Allison is coming up behind me and unlocking our door.
Scott passes us both and bypasses Stiles into their room, “Sleep tight, Y/N.” Stiles sneers before disappearing behind Scott.
I join Allison in our room, shutting and locking the door behind me. “I hope you don’t kick in your sleep, or someone’s gonna sleep on the floor tonight and it won’t be me.” I say, looking at the single bed in the middle of the dreary room.
“About that…” Allison says, her face already completely giving away what she’s about to tell me.
“Allison,” I warn her, and she trots in front of me with pleading eyes. “Would you do me a huge, huge favor and switch with Scott tonight?” She begs, and I’m completely and utterly in shock.
“You cannot be serious. You want me, to share a room, a 𝘣𝘦𝘥, with 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴?!” I try to wrap my head around the idea of having to survive a night with Stiles Stilinski. Yeah right, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺.
“Yeah, no, no way in hell!” I shout, hands flailing in the air. “Have you even met me?!” I ask, baffled that she’d even think that I’d ever agree to such a thing. “I mean? have you even met Stiles?! I can’t stand him for more than a few seconds, let alone hours!” I exclaim.
“Then don’t stand him, sit on him instead.” Allison says, the tone in her voice suggestive. I scoff, “Yeah right, me and Stiles? Never in a million years.” I say, the idea completely out of the question.
“Oh come on, Y/N! You could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife! You guys just need to fuck and make up.” Allison tries to convince me, and I’m trying to deny the pit in my stomach that tells me she might be right.
“Allison you’re crazy. There’s no tension between Stiles and I.” I answer, rolling my eyes. “Oh please, Y/N! Please, please, pleaseeeee!” She begs, not backing down.
I groan out, “Alright! Alright! But you owe me big time for this.” I finally give in, and Allison pounces onto me to give me a tight hug.
“Y/N you won’t regret this, I’m texting Scott now.” She says giddily, and I change into my pajamas while we wait for Scott.
After a few minutes, there’s a knock at our door, and I open it to reveal a just-as-giddy Scott McCall. “Y/N,” He greets me with a tight lipped smile. “Scott.” I answer, brushing passed him and out the door.
It’s dark, rainy, and cold outside. I stand in front of Stiles’ motel room, shivering in my pajama shorts and matching t-shirt. I knock. No answer. I knock again. Still nothing.
“Stiles I know this isn’t the most pleasant arrangement but it’s freezing outside, please let me in.” I plead, my teeth chattering. Still nothing. Nothing but the howling of the wind and the drops of rain.
I sigh, sliding my back down against the door, sitting down on the cold cement. I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver.
Then suddenly, the door is pulled open without warning and I look up to see a half naked Stiles. “What’re you doing?” He asks, looking down at me as I scurry up and onto my feet. “Waiting for you to let me in, dumbass. It’s cold out here.” I chatter, pushing past his naked upper half and into the room.
The room is ice cold, not any better than outside in the elements. Stiles rolls his eyes coming back into the room and locking the door behind him.
I turn to him to ask why the heater isn’t on when he beats me to it. “Yeah, well, the heater is broken to shit so it’s not much better in here.” He answers my unspoken question. I shake my head, sitting on the bed, head in my hands. “This cannot be happening right now.” I complain, more to myself than Stiles.
“You wanna complain some more, Y/N? Since you’re so good at it.” He jabs, padding to his bag, digging through it. I scoff in response, and it’s then that I look up and take real notice of him frame. 𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦?
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He says, pulling me out of my daze. “Whatever, get some other desperate girl to be your paparazzi.” I reply, digging into my bag for my phone charger, but it’s nowhere to be found.
Stiles goes into the dinky bathroom to change, coming out to me huffing and puffing. “What is it now?” He asks irritated, emerging from the bathroom in plaid pajama pants and a navy blue t-shirt. “I think I left my fucking charger at home.” I groan, checking my phone percentage. 12%
He chuckles, getting snuggled into the single bed and plugging his phone in, rubbing it right in my face. He turns his phone to the side, putting on some tv show. I grab my bag off the bed and drop it to the floor, “Make some room will you?” I push his feet from above the covers, and he scoots a millimeter to the side.
I curse under my breath, jumping into the bed and shoving him over some as he watched his phone. “Jeez, Y/N/N. If you wanted to get in bed with me that bad you should’ve just said so.” Stiles quips, and I pull at the cold blanket to cover myself.
“Oh please, get over yourself. You’re the last person I’d ever want to be in bed with.” I roll my eyes, getting out my phone to distract myself from him until it inevitably dies.
We’re laying shoulder the shoulder. He’s holding up his phone as he watches Supernatural, and before long my phone is dead.
I set my phone on the nightstand to my right, then turning over to lay on my left side and watch his show. My face is millimeters away from his broad shoulder, and he turns his head to me, peering down.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, attention split between me and the phone. “My phone died, and I like Supernatural.” I say, my eyes flick from the screen to him.
“You like this? Scott hates it.” He says, turning his face back to his phone. Is he starting a normal conversation with me? What universe is this?
“Of course Scott hates it, he hates all things 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭.” I say, wiggling magic fingers in his face. He chuckles, “Yeah, guess it’s too close to home for him. I like it though, I like to think we’re like them.” He says, comparing him and Scott to Sam and Dean.
“So which one are you? Sam or Dean?” I ask, giggling. “Which one do you think I am?” Stiles ponders, his attention fully turned toward me by now. “Definitely Sam,” I answer confidently, “he’s my favorite.” I add, my eyes suddenly avoiding his own.
There’s an awkward silence for a moment before Stiles breaks it. “Awe, so you like me more than Scott?” He pokes fun at me, and I roll my eyes. “In your dreams, Stilinski. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you unless the situation was dire.” I counter, rolling over to my back, his phone long forgotten.
He turns it off, setting it on the nightstand on his side. “See that’s where you’re wrong.” He says, and the tone in the chilly room shifts. He sits up to almost hover over me. His face the closest it’s ever been to mine, and I can’t help but flicker my eyes from his to his lips and back again.
“I think you wanted this. I think you want me.” He says, voice huskier and hushed. “Stiles…” I can’t think of a witty response, I can’t think about anything besides his lips, and how impossibly close they are to my own.
“Say it. Tell me, Y/N.” He demands, a veiny hand dipping under the covers to slink down my thigh. My mind is running a hundred miles a minute, short circuiting.
“Awe, fuck it.” I whisper, more to myself than him, closing the gap between us. Our lips connect in a searing kiss, and my hands shoot up to his neck, pulling him down to me.
He growls into my mouth, moving to now completely hover on top of me, my legs instinctively opening to make room for him. His arms prop himself up over me, and my hands explore his body, moving to slide up and under his shirt. I slowly push up his shirt til his sits up, pulling it off in one swoop.
He’s so fucking hot. My hands dance along his slightly defined abs, speckled like his face. “Like what you see?” He taunts, leaning back down over me to assault my neck with his lips. “Oh, bite me.” I snip, and he nips at my throat in response.
Stiles trails his nimble fingers up my shirt, but I stop him, pushing his chest until he’s off of me. I push him over to his back, straddling his waist to be on top. I settle myself into his lap, his hands gripping my hips tightly. I pull my shirt up and off my body, revealing myself to him. The cold nips at my now half naked frame, nipples perking up and gossebumps cover my body.
I shiver a little, “It’s so cold in here, Stiles.” I whisper, and he snakes a hand up my waist and all the way up to my neck, pulling my face down to his. “Don’t worry, baby,” He whispers seductively, “I’ll warm you up.”
Our lips meet once again, tongues fighting for dominance. I grind down into his lap, his boner prominently poking me beneath his pants. He moans deliciously into my mouth as I do so, hands slipping into my shorts, groping my ass.
I moan as he rocks me in his lap, “God, why did we wait so long for this?” I whispers, looking up at me with those auburn eyes. “Because we hate each other.” I answer breathlessly.
“I could never hate you, baby.”
Then he’s forcefully pushing me back over, hands dipping into the waist band or my sleep shorts, pulling them and my panties down in one go. He places a palm on each of my knees, spreading my legs apart. I’m now fully bare and at his mercy.
I moan in anticipation as he methodically kisses up my thigh, getting close and closer to my dripping heat. He then brings a finger to swipe through my folds, my slick covering his digit as it glistens. “All this and I’ve barely even touched you.” He taunts me.
“Stiles please,” I beg, but he’s not ready to give in just yet. “Please what? Use your words.” He says huskily. “Please Stiles, please touch me.” I plead.
Stiles licks a stripe through my folds, sending shivers sound my spine. His mouth attacks my heat, his tongue working wonders. Stiles is like a starved man, feeding on anything and everything he can get his hands on. Feasting upon me. He sends me over the edge almost immediately. My hands shoot down to his head, gripping his hair til my knuckles turn white.
Stiles detaches his lips from my clit, sitting up to his knees and standing up off the bed. He drops his pajama pants to the ground, before zipping over to his bag to retrieve a condom from it. He rushes back over to the bed, pulling his boxers off in an instant, kneeling onto the bed in front of you as he rolls the condom into his think length.
My fists grip the bed covers, watching as he lines his swollen tip with my entrance, teasing me with it. “Stiles,” I moan, and he slides himself in completely.
He hisses as he does so, burying himself to the hilt. “Fuck, Stiles.” I moan out breathlessly. Stiles thrusts are hard, his rhythm unbearable. “Yeah, you like that?” He whispers, leaning down to me ear. His voice deep and husky, full of lust. His lips dip down to nip at my throat. “Yes, Stiles.” I moan, and I feel him smile against my kiss peppered skin.
“Awe, fuck.” Stiles drawls out into my ear, sitting up to his knees, still fucking me, his rhythm perfect. “Say my name.” He orders me, his hands gripping my hips as he pistons into me. I can barely take it.
Of course I do as he says. I moan his name, eyes rolling back, my mouth hung wide open as moans spill out of me. He slides a hand to my cunt, his thumb moving to circle my clit. He watches with hooded eyes where we meet as he fucks me senseless.
“Say it again.”
“Stiles.”
“Again.”
“𝘖𝘩 Stiles.”
“Yeah, you getting close? Do I fuck you that good? Say it.” He seethes, his dirty words rattling in my head. I’m breathless, the cold room now unbearably hot. “You fuck me so good, Sti.” I moan, the ball in the pit of my stomach tightening with every touch of his. His hand gripping my hip. His cock hitting that sweet spot inside me with every thrust. His thumb pressing to my clit.
“Yeah? You like that, baby.” I can’t take it anymore. “Stiles,” I moan, my limbs restless, I can’t stay still. “Tell me.” He says, leaning down over me to envelope my lips in a wet, searing kiss. I moan as he parts, “I’m gonna cum, Stiles.”
“Then do it.”
I obey his every word, my release washing over like a wave. My back arches into him, and Stiles buckles down, chasing his nearing high. I’m just about to tell him I can’t take it anymore when he cums, spilling into the condom. His brows furrowing and his mouth agape. He lets out the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard, I never want it to stop.
He pumps a few more times, riding out his high. “Oh, fuck.” He whispers, slowly pulling out of me. I moan as he does, partly in pleasure and partly in pain. I’m sore now, I can’t even imagine how sore I’ll be tomorrow.
Stiles gets up from the bed, he quickly discards the condoms and pulls his boxers on. He pads to the bathroom, and I lay there for a minute not sure of what to do. I close my legs and watch as he comes back with a damp rag.
He comes back to me, kneeling on the bed in front of my closed legs. “Open.” He says, placing a hand on my knee to pry them open once more. He cleans me up, and I’m completely and utterly in shock. Did he really just do that? What have I been missing out on?
When he’s does, I sit up so our faces meet, and I peck his kiss swollen lips. “Thank you.” I whisper, and he hums in response, kissing me once more.
As he goes to the bathroom to put the rag away, I gather my scattered clothes from the floor, and I’m slipping them on as he comes back, hopping back into the bed.
It’s at this point that I’m not really sure what to expect now. Are we never gonna talk about this again? Are we just gonna hate each other and fuck on the side? I’m nervous to get back in bed with him.
“Come here.” Stiles mumbles, laying his arm out for me. I crawl into bed, snuggling into him. “Do we still hate each other?” I whisper. He says nothing, reaching om his other arm over to his nightstand.
“Here.” He says, handing me his phone charger.
!𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎!
“Jesus Stiles, turn it off.” I grumble, his alarm blaring in my ears. Stiles is dead asleep, how he’s able to sleep through his excruciating alarm? No idea.
I reach over him to grab his phone, hitting the snooze button. But before I put it down I see a text from none other than Scott, at 12:31 AM.
𝙎𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩 𝙈𝙘𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙡: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙨
𝟏/𝟐𝟕/𝟐𝟒
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xob1tchs · 3 months
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idk if you taking requests, but can you do a smut where reader and stiles are in a secret relationship cause reader is scott’s brother, n like one day stiles is so pussy drunk that he’s a whimpering moaning mess. and then scott just so happens to walk in. THEN reader starts to try and get up to follow her brother once he storms out the room, but stiles holds her back and continues until they both cum? just a thought..🫶🏽.
(btw idk if you do anon emojis but if so can i be ‘🧟‍♀️’)
. • °🍼✧༺ 17+ smut below the cut !
stiles has always joked about how he’s a lesser man when it comes to you, crude comments about how he’d give anything to spend all day between your legs, making you squirm just cause he likes it.
but it’s times like this when you actually think stiles might be a feign for pussy – your pussy.
the bed creaks with every rapid thrust of his hips, sheet sheilding where your bodies connect but it doesn’t matter because you can hear the squelching from your sopping folds, and feel the wetness seep down your ass crack splashing across the backs of your thigs when his sack hits your skin. and even if you could see the sight of his cock sliding in and out of you, it wouldn’t matter because – well stiles looks like that.
pupils blown wide as he stares down at you, bitten lips parted enough to let whines and groans slip free every couple of seconds, incoherent praises causing your sweaty skin to flush even more. he’s sweating too, fluffy hair matted to his forhead, sticking up in places from your gripping it.
“jesus fuck baby, love this cunt so much” he mutters, eyebrows frowning as he stares down st you with a determined pout “gonna fucking cum right in this tight pussy, feels too fucking good” you clench around him, gummy walls molding to every ridge and vein along his girthy length, arching your back off the back in hopes to feel him even deeper – whining and crying out when he does.
he drops his face to the crook of your neck, hips becoming slightly sloppy, movements less smooth and more desperate — cock twitching inside of you now, his release definitely nearing.
“oh’baby fuck me so good, feels so amazing” he’s practically crying into your shoulder, thrusting so forcefully your body begins to scoot up the bed, headboard nocking against the bed rhythmically “ — never gonna leave your cunt babe, might cry’feels so good”
your about to moan his name out, eyes rolling to the back of your skull when a creak sounds followed by a glass hitting the floor amd small whispered curse “oh shit!” he murmurs, and when you peak over stiles shoulder to lock eyes with ones that mirror your own, your breath completely leaves your lungs and sudden your trying to scramble away from stiles.
scott makes a face of disgust, throwing his hands up in the air as he spins on his heel, the sound of sneakers hitting the stairs loud as he stomps away “shit, shit, shit! stiles stop!” you cry, gasping when stiles shifts to his knees, pulling out to just the tip as he stares down at you with pleading eyes.
“gotta cum baby”
he slams back into you to punctuate his sentence, your jaw going slack in a silent moan, pussy clenching around his cock in a violent manner. your toes curl against the mattress, tears welling at your lash line – an overwhelming mix of embarrassment and pleasure taking over as he pounds into you so hard you’re worried he might actually hurt you.
you can feel the pulse and twitch of his cock against your straining walls, struggling to take him the deeper he goes, pressing your body so harshly into the bed you swear you hear the crackle of wooden planks beneathe your matress.
��s-stiles, it’s to-to much” you plead, mascara running streaks down your cheeks now, sweat and tears matting your hair to your face and neck, the sight making stiles go cross eyed, gripping the underneaths of your thighs as he leans back just enough to fold you in half, biceps rippling beneath his taut skin – prominent veins trailing up his fingers to his forearms, its enough to have your eyes rolling back into your skull, biting down on your bottom lip so hard blood fills your jaw, making you cry out in pain — but mostly because you’re cumming so hard that it drains the air from your lungs, stiles suffocating you with a wet and lazy kiss as his own orgasm creeps closer.
it’s not much longer before he’s becoming erratic in his thrusts, rhytm thrown a bump as he pumps his seed deep in your cunt, filling you so much it begins to spill put around the base of cock, and down his balls, making obscene noises as he pulls out with a weak hiss, dark eyebrows furrowing from the lack of warmth.
“maybe we’ll close the door next time?” he smirks down at your spent expression, brown eyes full of trouble.
. • °🍼✧༺ extremely unedited!
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bericas · 2 years
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scott appreciation week (day 2) → you’re a werewolf
         They will call me by the body
         & mistake bright skin
for new land. Mistake eyes
for lunar rock to be taken
                   home as a souvenir.
#twedit#scottmccallledit#scottmccallweek#scott mccall#teenwolfplus#ive had this made forever but i always wanted to redo it and then i didnt#its literally been since last june#so here it is for this!#anyway i love him#the reason scott is so babygirl is actually because like women his body is a commodity!#it was taken from him by peter and never really given back#hes something to covet and something to destroy but not someone to take care of#which becomes so starkly clear in s5 especially#in the way his mom talks to him after he dies and the way stiles attacks him and never apologizes#and the way by s6 i think lydia and malia are the only ones really treating him like an equal#but lydia treats him the way she treats herself which is with respect and expectation#and he's allowed to fail! but it doesn't mean he hasn't. you know. like i wanna be so clear there's no love lost. there's no hard feelings#and in a romantic setting it would probably be different but as friends i really think she treats him how she treats herself#which is why her holding him to a standard is different bc it isnt inhuman. its just knowing what hes capable of#but alll of that i think is why by s6 he's so surprised when malia is so tender with him#because hes either a child or a god or a hero#and always an alpha#and malias like no actually im gonna do what i want and also im gonna make you take a shower and hold your hand#anyway#the point of this#is that i love him#ALSO I DIDNT GET THE FRAYED FAKE OUT BUT EVERYONE HAS TO LEAVE IT ALONE#I THINK ITS CLEAR THAT IM NOT REMAKING THIS#SO WE ALL HAVE TO FIND A WAY TO COPE
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christinesficrecs · 4 months
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I had a request for newer fics, so here you go! Also, some other recent fics were posted here.
They’re all together ooky, the Hale family… (Snap, Snap) by DropsOfAddiction | 12.4K | Explicit
Derek realises that he’s probably squashing Stiles a little bit, right at the same moment that Stiles apparently realises that he’s still holding onto Derek’s face.
They both definitely acknowledge Derek’s nakedness at the same exact time, judging by the alarmed look on Stiles’ face.
“So, you have no clothes on,” Stiles removes his hands and holds them above his head in surrender, cheeks a muddy red.
“In my defence, I was covered in fur less than two minutes ago,” Derek rolls his eyes and he pushes himself up and off him, hands covering his junk for Stiles’ sake.
“You’re still kind of furry now…” Stiles sits up, blinking rapidly, clearly just as weirded out as Derek. “Oh my god, pretend I didn’t say that. I’m not looking or anything.”
Derek smirks, because that… that was a lie and he cocks an eyebrow at him.
as dear as a brother by endversed | 10.3K | Explicit
“You are not allowed to sleep with him,” Scott says.
“You’re not the boss of me,” Stiles scoffs.
Stiles and Scott become best friends at college. Derek is Scott's hot older brother.
Take Me Away From Here by Hedwig221b | 33.5K | Explicit
Derek Hale looked terrifying. With his broad frame and muscles, with his wild black hair and thick beard, with his eyes the color of blood and fangs of a killer. Despite his kindness and his apparent attraction to Stiles, he was still a stranger, a predator, a wolf.
The thing is, Stiles would deal, but others might not. People found Lord Hale horrid, monstrous and unapproachable.
If Stiles stood behind him, no one would touch him.
He’d be safe with the wolf. If not from him, then definitely from everyone else. And that was enough.
Messily Ever After by KaliopeShipsIt | 20.3K
When Stiles and his blue slushie have a literal and quite splashy run-in with an adorable five-year old flower girl and her panicking daddy in the middle of the mall, the last thing he expects is to get a date to a stranger's wedding out of it.
Let alone, a boyfriend and a kid.
His Accidental Touch by Hidden_Orchard | 12.8K | Explicit
It happened accidentally, the first time. All the many and varied times afterwards, Stiles would hold his hands up and admit full responsibility for. But that first time – pure chance.
Derek needs a cuddle. Stiles - generous man that he is - would never deny Derek something he needs.
An Alpha's Misunderstandings by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 48.5K | Mature
And Derek was there, as if it was a simple twist of fate.
There were so many ways Stiles wanted to forgive Derek, but then he came to his senses.
He wouldn’t risk Charlotte’s safety for that hope–never again. ~*~ Stiles and Derek are parted by war and misunderstandings, only to find each other again.
Red, Red, Red by loserchildhotpants | 9.4K | Explicit
“Just… it’s weird, I’ve been - uh. You ever, like, dream of something? Something you’ve never seen before, but then you see it out in the world?”
everywhere, everything (every day) by nerdy-stilinski (Captain_Ameriyeah), S3anchaidh | 14.3K
Derek’s never been the best at making decisions. That’s how he keeps waking up with Stiles in his arms, but never under the right circumstances.
Or: Derek agrees to a pack vacation and instantly regrets it.
Matchmaking in Fandom by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) | 13K
It wasn’t like it was a secret that the showrunners made terrible decisions when it came to their own show, so why he’d had actual faith in them��not fucking the movie up, he had no idea. Really, it was his own fault.
He hadn’t even set the bar high for the movie! The bar was so incredibly low, like mid-shin height, and they somehow managed to get it subterranean. That was talent. A bad talent, but still a talent.
if i'm not made for you, then why does my heart tell me that i am? by EvanesDust | 13K
When Derek’s kids write out their Christmas lists, they insist he writes one too. Not long after it's deposited in Santa's mailbox, he's reunited with the man of his dreams.
Stiles.
Derek can't help but fall for him again. It's really too bad Stiles is so obviously taken.
...or the one where Derek’s a grump who makes assumptions about his pregnant omega neighbor.
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mastercherry · 13 days
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Yet another Sterek idea.
So in this one.... The Hale family left Beacon Hills after the fire. They were called to protect another territory and another Nemeton. It worked out because being in the area where they were almost killed off entirely wasn't going to be great.
So Beacon Hills is unprotected until a family of Kitsune take over its protection. It's peaceful until their daughter gets caught up with a rogue alpha werewolf who turns her previously human boyfriend.
And that's how Scott and Stiles are initiated into the world of the Supernatural. Through a series of crazier and crazier situations, Stiles becomes the alpha of Beacon Hills.
Even though he's a human.
The Beacon Hills pack is bizarre to say the least. A human, a bitten wolf, a kitsune, a hunter, a kanima, and a banshee. Not to mention the veterinarian witch doctor, the hellhound deputy, and who knows what else.
Derek, his sister Laura, and their Uncle Peter are the Hale pack representatives sent to the United Packs Alliance meeting in the middle of the country. It's a meeting held every 3 years. EVERYONE has heard about the human alpha. For the first time in UPA history, every pack in the continent has sent in at least one pack member to see this bizarre event.
Everyone is gathered in a magically enlarged meeting space in an average sized hotel conference space when the Beacon Hills pack arrives. Late.
Being late would be noticeable enough but the electricity in the air is something no one could ignore. There's something powerful here.
When the doors open they just reveal a very normal pair of guys. A human and a wolf. But when all eyes shift to them, the human's eyes flash a very bright and brilliant red.
All Derek can think is.... Oh no, he's hot.
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