#stiles stilinski fanfiction

[strangerstilinski]

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 1 — 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐞

| 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟑 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟒 |

You'd both sworn. You'd sworn that you wouldn't subject yourselves to sex in the Jeep ever again. Not after the last time ended with so many unnecessary injuries between the two of you. Following one rolled ankle, a noticeable egg on the back of your head, and a bruise to Stiles' elbow that had been so worryingly dark that the purple had been mottled with spots nearly black in color, it was decided that handjobs were fine, blowjobs were great, fingering was.. sufficient. But full-out sex — You had sworn, never again. And, yet..

You can't find it in yourself to care when the dizzying warmth of Stiles' breath falls against your spit slick, kiss swollen lips. Your mouths have separated only as a result of the way he's trying to maneuver you into a better position, a closer position, large hands encasing your waist as he drags you over to straddle his lap. The moment you've settled against his thighs, his hands are already pushing their way up underneath your skirt, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties as his mouth finds its way to your cheek, your jaw, your neck.

And fuck if your own hands aren't already scrambling to undo the button on his jeans, tearing them open and pushing up on your knees just enough that you two of you can work his pants and boxers down his thighs just a few inches.

His cock springs free, already almost fully hard with the anticipation of what's to come, and your mouth nearly waters at the sight. You will never tire of the sight of Stiles' cock, you're sure of it. When your hand wraps around him, your fingers don't meet, and when you give the fat length of him a gentle tug, he groans deliciously into the skin of your throat, hips jerking up as he chases the feeling.

“Hey, slow down, why don'tcha?” Stiles teases softly, “Why're you in such a hurry, huh? Got somewhere else to be or-” He cuts off with another quiet groan as you twist your wrist the way he likes, “Or something?”

“Shush, you.” You reply with a smacking kiss to his mouth.

His fingers are moving in a teasing touch beneath your skirt, skimming the sensitive skin of your belly before finding home on your thighs. He gives the softness a pinch just hard enough to have you gasping before he's slipping beneath the fabric to drag long fingers between your folds.

“Shit, babe,” Stiles groans, his lips finding your cheek again before he drops a light kiss to your chin, “You're this wet already?” He asks, as if you haven't been working each other up for the last twenty minutes with heated touches and even hotter kisses.

He punctuates his question by slipping two fingers inside you in a ridiculously easy glide, the stretch making your eyebrows pull together as your jaw falls slack. He's giving you shallow thrusts, trying to open you up a little and get you ready for what will come next, and your free hand falls to his arm, tethering yourself with fingers circling his wrist in a firm grip. The way the muscles in his arm work with each drag out and then back in has your fingernails digging little crescent moons beneath the dark hairs on his forearm.

Your head is thrown back in pleasure, and it feels like it might weigh a million pounds when you drag it forward again to drop your forehead to his, your hips rocking down onto his fingers and your hand still working him to full hardness, closing over the head of his cock and collecting his precome just to slip back down his length again and again.

It had been days of longing glances across crowded rooms, and lingering touches that were a little unnecessary but desperately craved, and pushing maybe a little too far into each other's space when one of you needed to grab something just to feel the sparks along your skin. Each tiny moment shared had built upon one another slowly, day after day, and now that you're together, skin on skin and teeth and tongues on lips — that fire between you finally burns bright again.

You're both panting a little breathlessly already, worked up beyond belief after not finding moment alone like this in what feels like ages. Hot breaths mingle between your parted lips, the sound of it broken up by the quiet little noises clawing their way up your throats.

You've missed him desperately amidst the chaos that the week has brought. You find yourself wanting him to wreck you beyond repair, to turn your brain inside out until he is all that remains — no stresses about infuriating assholes in the form of college professors, or pack disputes, or the supernatural threat of the week — and the way Stiles continues to work his fingers inside you, pushing in deep until he's caressing that spot that makes your vision white out a bit at the edges, you think he's well on his way toward that wreckage.

“Condom?” You question desperately, tugging at his wrist in signal for him to extract himself from you.

He's muttering to himself while he fumbles to get access to where his back pocket is scrunched up beneath his thighs and you push up onto your knees all the while, maneuvering your underwear down one leg and then the other until you're free of them. When he produces the little foil packet, you take it from him without prompt, tearing it open and rolling it down over him in a quick, practiced motion that has him biting his lips together to hold back a curse.

Stiles slides his hips down the seat a bit further and grips the backs of your thighs to support you as you guide his tip to your entrance. The moment you start to sink down, his fingers dig into the doughy flesh of your thighs, fingertips curling below the curve of your ass to help spread you wider as he fills you up nice and slow.

“You got it, baby,” Stiles praises quietly, lips catching against your cheekbone to leave a small peck to your flushed skin, “There y'go.”

You're shuddering through your breaths as you accommodate to the stretch, knowing that every inch just a precursor to where he's thickest at the base. It's slow going, painful and delicious all at once, but when your hips finally meet his, clit nestling right up against the thatch of hair that trails from his belly button down to where you're connected, you let out a breathy sigh of relief.

Now that you're seated, his hands leave your backside to skate higher, rough fingertips dragging up to the back of your skirt to massage at your spine. You feel him fiddle with the zip at the back, his eyes meeting yours in silent question before you're nodding and he's giving it a tug and freeing you from the thick fabric.

You can't help but look down, and that first glimpse of where you've sucked him in, where he's filling you to the brim, has you eagerly rocking your hips a little to test the stretch. There's still a bit of an ache, a sharp little sting where you're stretched the widest, but it's lessening already and you can feel that pleasurable fullness behind your navel settling in.

“Almost,” You update him quietly, combing your fingers through the strands of his hair and grinning softly when he cranes into your touch, “Jus' need another minute.”

“Take as much time as you need,” He returns earnestly, “You know I'm just enjoying gettin' you like this. Missed you. This week was the worst.”

And it truly has been. Nearly every minute of every day, start to finish, has been an onslaught of lectures and assignments due and pack bullshit that you're both inevitably dragged into every goddamn time — the presence of the token pack humans always necessary if only to give another perspective to a mundane issue that, really, probably could've been solved by your brother and his co-alpha alone. Scott and Derek really shouldn't need to drag the two of you into every little problem — which in turn would leave the two of you with ample time to sneak off somewhere to do this, perhaps in a bed, without the risk of bonked heads or twisted ankles or the bruises that came with ravishing each other in such close confines. And yet, and yet.

You nod in agreement, fingers tangling in the hair at his nape to give it a soft tug, “Been so busy with classes. N' there've been way, way too many pack meetings,” You complain in a quiet huff, “Not enough time for this..” He grumbles his own agreement as your thumb finds the large beauty mark beneath his ear, “I missed you too.” You return softly.

Stiles is patient as ever, his fingers taking the time to explore every bit of exposed skin on your body with a gentle touch. His arms circle your waist only to release you a second later to run his warm palms up your spine and give your shoulders a squeeze. His movements slow for a moment when he finds the band of your bra, pinching and unclasping it in a practiced motion, and then his big hands are making their way back to the front of your ribs, thumbs dragging against the soft underside of your breasts as he dips his head to press kisses to the newly exposed skin.

You lean back a bit to give him more space to work, savoring in the feeling of his mouth peppering soft kisses over your breasts as your own hands fall from his neck to rest on his pecs. Your fingers trail over dark freckles that dot his skin, nails scraping ever so gently into the patch of hair at the center of his chest.

Even with the windows cracked to let in a bit of the crisp autumnal air, the temperature in the Jeep creeps higher, the windows already fogged over with a thin sheen of condensation that smears lightly when you brace your right hand against the window. Five little streaks through the microscopic drops of water covering the cool glass, one to mark where each of your fingers scrape across the surface as you finally rise up onto your knees.

A pitiful little grunt falls from your lips as you drop back down, the sound pushed out with the sheer depth that his cock manages to reach in this position, so full that you can nearly taste him at the back of your throat.

You settle into a slow rhythm and Stiles grabs a hold of your hips as you do, but he's not guiding you, no. He's not aiming for control, not pushing you to go harder or faster, but rather simply holding on and following your movements, his thumbs tracing little concentric circles against the sides of you belly as you go at your own pace.

“Fuck,” You groan when your knees slip a little against the leather seat. It pushes him impossibly deeper than before, driving his tip against your cervix in a way that erupts goosebumps along your skin even in the warm car. “You’re so deep. 'S so big, baby. You're so big-”

You're not even sure what's coming out of your mouth, already a little drunk on the feeling of being filled so completely, on the slick drag every time you rise up and then the sharp jolt to every one of your nerve endings with each thrust back down. Despite the ramblings falling from your lips, or perhaps because of them, Stiles begins to make little noises of his own — guttural moans against the curve of your throat, quiet grunts each time he hits deep.

He tips his head back and the warm brown in his eyes is almost completely taken over by black with how his pupils have blown wide. You catch sight of a small bead of sweat as it works its way out of his hair and begins a slow trail down his temple but you're kissing it away before it can reach his cheekbone. The salt of it lingers on your lips when your tongue runs over them just a moment later.

Dark eyes watch you move with rapt attention, his lips parted to let out low groans of encouragement. It takes a few minutes for him to find his voice, but when he does, his words send heat flooding through you.

“So good,” He tells you, hand tucking a lock of sweat-dampened hair behind your ear before his wide palm settles against the side of your neck, his voice thick with arousal, “Always so good. You're- Shit, y're so tight. So warm. So perfect.”

The thumb resting at the bottom of your cheek creeps up higher, rubbing the plush of your bottom lip until your jaw falls slack in acceptance and then he's cupping your chin and pushing the pad of his finger down against the softness of your tongue. You bite down softly with a moan and your bottom teeth dig into the meat of his palm with just how deep he's got his thumb before you're pulling off just a little and closing your lips around it, sucking and swirling your tongue and reeling at the way his eyes flutter shut with a groan, like he can't quite handle the sight in combination with the way you're riding him slow and deep.

When he removes his thumb, you suck harder to combat the spit that threatens to cling to the digit, but it doesn't make much of a difference because he's already sliding his hand around the back of your neck and bringing your mouth down against his.

You brace one hand on his stomach to aid your moments as your tongues meet in a hungry kiss. A whimper finds its way up your throat when he rubs his free hand achingly slow up and down the front of your thigh, around to grope your ass and then back, smoothing and squeezing along your skin like he wants to be touching you more — Harder, tighter, everywhere all at once.

He's so, so deep like this and you can tell it's affecting him too. His kisses are hungry as he licks into your mouth, a little messy while his nose presses into your cheek and his fingers graze your waist on their journey toward your chest. He's thumbing over the peaks of your nipples, swallowing up your moans with his own, breathing a little like he's the one getting the air punched out of his lungs every time you seat yourself, burying him deep enough that the head of his cock is driving into that spot that makes you see stars.

Your brain goes a little hazy with your budding orgasm, tiny noises becoming more frequent, falling against his mouth a bit like a plea. You don't need to explain, Stiles is already dragging his hand up to push between your thighs, thumb circling your clit the way he knows you like. Your eyebrows furrow as you slip from the kiss, far too focussed on chasing your high now. You bounce a little faster, shallower, fingers scraping at the pale skin of his chest, eyes pinched shut as your thighs tremble with exertion and your knees ache.

Heat licks across your body, a bead of sweat trickling down your spine as your movements start to become a little more difficult. You're so close — so close-

“C'mon, you're doing so good, baby.” Stiles says with far too much tenderness, far too much amazement.

“Fuck,” You whimper, shaky breaths tearing from your chest as you teeter closer and closer, “Fuckfuckfuck-”

“You got it. You can do it. C'mon-”

His gentle praises send you careening over the edge and your whole body shakes as you try to work through it. You're struggling, but then Stiles' hands are under your ass again, guiding you this time, gripping the backs of your thighs tight as he supports some of your weight and helps you ride out your high. Every nudge of his cock against the deepest parts of you has you moaning louder, brain going a little fuzzy as your orgasm peaks but never quite dies off.

Your arms curl around his shoulders, digging your face into his neck as you gasp against his skin, thighs shaking as he keeps guiding you back and forth, not pulling out nearly as far now before he's dragging you against him and filling you back up. Your breasts are pushed tight against his chest. The smell of his aftershave is in your nose and your forehead is pressed into his sweat slicked neck. You're panting, nearly drooling on his shoulder as you try to lock your knees to hold yourself in place, thighs feeling exhausted and like jelly all at once.

“Sti. Fuck, baby, I can't-” A moan cuts you off as it rolls off your tongue, “My legs can't-”

“Aw, your legs too tired, baby girl?” He asks, and it comes out a little condescending. You can practically see the satisfied little smirk on his face, even from where your own is buried in his neck as you nod. He lifts you up a little higher, hands still grasping at the crease where your thighs meet your ass as he adjusts his hips beneath you, “Need me to do the work now?”

The teasing in his voice has your body going traitorously pliant, your voice weak when it finally comes, “Please.”

“I got you,” Stiles promises, taking a little pity. He drags one hand toward the center of your spine while the other falls to the outside of your knee to hold you steady, “I got you..”

The first thrust up into you has you crying out. Not hitting nearly as deep as before, but he's driving in so much harder, so much faster. It pulls whiny little gasps from your lips with each thrust and your jaw's gone slack where it's buried in his neck as his skin slaps against yours with every snap of his hips. The sound of it is loud, and the combination of noises both lewd and salacious only proves to turn you on that much more.

“Shit.” Stiles grunts, voice a little hoarse and yet somehow high as it catches in his throat, “You make the prettiest noises, baby. Fuck. Just listen t' you.”

You don't entirely mean for it, but your next moan is just a little louder in response, unabashed and desperate even as you attempt to muffle the sound of it in the curve of his shoulder. The pitch his voice has taken is one that you only get to hear when he's getting unbearably close to his own peak. The sound of it is so, so sweet to your ears, mingling with the obscenely wet glide of his cock sliding in and out of you.

“'M gonna come,” He warns, his hips jerking just a bit rougher, a bit less coordinated as he fucks up into you, “Shit. Shit, sweetheart, 'm.. gonna.. come-”

His arms curl and lock around your waist as he does, dragging you down against him and burying himself so deep that it has you crying out again, fingers digging into his shoulders where your arms have curled under his to hold tight. He comes with a moan and a grunt that both get muffled with the way his face is now hidden in your hair, his cock kicking up inside you as he releases into the condom.

The increased stimulation against your sensitive walls has you going a little teary in the best way, overwhelmed but loving every moment of it, and you roll your hips over him despite the soreness in your thighs just to hear the way he groans in response.

You pull back just enough to lock your fingers in the hair at his nape and tug him into a sweet kiss, it's warm and a little sweaty as your lips slide together but it's also so full of unspoken thanks and emotion and undeclared love.

When you lean back again to collectively catch your breath, his thumb finds your wet eyelashes and swipes at them gently.

“Oh- hey, you good?” He checks with concern, his free hand already at your waist and drawing soft patterns along your skin, “You okay?”

You turn your head into the hand on your cheek and press a kiss to the center of his palm, scraping at his scalp beneath sweat-dampened locks, “I'm good,” You promise, “Gonna be sore as fuck tomorrow though, God.”

A smirk finds its way onto his face, “Fucked you so good you're gonna have trouble walkin', huh?”

“Shut up,” You huff, a laugh slipping out in contradiction to your weak display of annoyance, “But with the way my thighs feel right now? Yeah.”

You wince as you push up onto your knees, both from the ache left behind as he slips out and from the soreness in your legs. When you rise up a little higher, your head hits the roof with a painful thump and you can't bite back a curse.

Stiles is quick to bring a hand up to the back of your head with a sympathetic wince, cradling the tender spot on your skull softly, “Oh, shit, y'alright?”

“Ow,” You respond with a pout, your own hand reaching back to cover his over your hair, “Stupid Jeep n' stupid metal roof..”

“Hey,” Stiles frowns, “Don't blame the Jeep, alright? It's not Roscoe's fault you bumped your head.”

“Is too.”

It comes out in a huff and Stiles chuckles in amusement at your disgruntled expression as he slips his hands under your thighs to help you dismount from his lap completely. You fall into the seat beside him and drop your calves over his knees, bumping your forehead against his shoulder in a silent gesture of gratitude.

After a few long minutes wrapped up in each other as you collect yourselves, you both gather your haphazardly discarded clothing and redress. Stiles digs out a new air freshener from the glove compartment and adds it to the hoard of them already hanging from the rearview mirror. Another little tree to the collection, this one a pretty shade of purple and smelling of berries, dropping to sit right atop number of similarly shaped scented hangers in a wide array of colors.

And later, when you're forced to part ways, you push up onto your toes as you lean back in through the driver's side window of the Jeep for one final kiss. The breeze is cool against your thighs as it catches beneath your skirt, goosebumps causing you to tighten your fingers around the window frame as you prepare to lean back. Stiles has a hand coming up to the back of your neck to hold you in place at the first sign that you're about to pull away, stretching the kiss out for as long as he can get away with. It's a sickly sweet press of lips. One that will hopefully be enough to hold you over until you get the chance to have him like this again.

A glance over your shoulder as you walk away has your gaze meeting Stiles one last time, elation and melancholy both pulling at the edges of your lips until you're left with a saccarine smile to pair with your tiny wave goodbye. Your fingers come up to brush your lips as you begin to turn away, and when you extend your hand in his direction Stiles nearly throws himself out the open window to catch the invisible kiss that you've sent his way. His unnecessary enthusiasm has you stifling a giggle as you finally turn your back to him and make your way down the street.

You're forced to jog around the block from where Stiles has dropped you a safe distance from your house, hopping into the shower the moment you get home to wash away any and all evidence of the afternoon from your skin.

It's with skin scrubbed clean and a heavy heart that you head to the washing machine and dump your clothes inside to extinguish the lingering smell of Stiles that you know clings to the fabric, of you and Stiles, together.

And when Scott pauses the load mid-wash with the intention of throwing a shirt in, your brother is sure to complain about the way you've pointedly used the scented detergent — the overpowering artificial smell of lavender much too strong an irritant to his overly-sensitive, supernatural, wolfy nose — But, you remind yourself, if you want to keep up this thing with Stiles, which you desperately do, then that's just how this has to go, because, well.

𝐒 𝐜 𝐨 𝐭 𝐭 𝐲 𝐃 𝐨 𝐞 𝐬 𝐧 ' 𝐭 𝐊 𝐧 𝐨 𝐰 .

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝!𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠!! 𝐢 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬. 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐦 — 𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐬.

#don't tell scotty #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #stiles imagine #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles smut #teen wolf imagine #stiles fanfiction #* #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf smut #dylan o'brien fanfiction #mccall!reader #stiles x mccall!reader

[sarcasm-and-stiles]

Stiles: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE

Y/N: sarcastic brunettes

Stiles, desperately, as Y/N bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE

Y/N: Oh! B positive.

Stiles: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE

Y/N:

#fanfiction #sarcasm and stiles #incorrect quotes #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles x reader #incorrect teen wolf quotes #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf #incoorect quotes #x reader #x yn

[voidpetrova]

pretty boy — stiles stilinski x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, tit play, unprotected p in v sex, virgin!sub!stiles x experienced!dom!reader — smut

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: the closest thing he had come to having sex was with his fist, until he confessed to you, that is

✧.*

in a dimly lit motel room, the buzzing neon sign outside cast intermittent flashes of light across the peeling wallpaper. the air was thick with tension as stiles stilinski, the epitome of social awkwardness and love-deprivation, sat on one of the twin beds, fumbling with his phone. scott had left to chase after allison, leaving stiles alone with his thoughts and an abundance of uncomfortable silence. just as he contemplated diving into another episode of his favorite tv show to escape the loneliness, there was a soft knock on the door. with a puzzled expression, he pulled it open, revealing you—bold, snarky, and an undeniable knockout. you sauntered in, a sly grin playing on your lips, and in your hand, a six-pack of beer.

“hey there, loser,” you greeted, taking in the melancholic atmosphere. “looks like we've got a room all to ourselves tonight. mind if i join the pity party?” stiles' eyes widened in surprise, a mix of embarrassment and relief washing over him. “uh, sure, come on in,” he stammered, hastily clearing a space on the other bed for you.

you cracked open a beer, handing one to stiles, and settled in comfortably. “so, what's got you wallowing in self-pity?” you asked, your tone laced with genuine curiosity. stiles took a sip of his beer and sighed, avoiding eye contact. “i've been doing some thinking,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “how is it that i've never gotten laid?”

you observed him for a moment, your sharp wit temporarily softened by empathy. “stiles, being in a relationship isn't the be-all and end-all of life,” you said, your voice reassuring. “besides, you're unique in your own quirky way. maybe you just haven't found the right person yet.” he looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of longing and insecurity. “you think so?”

“absolutely,” you affirmed, leaning in a bit closer. “you're a good guy, stiles. you deserve someone who appreciates your quirks and cares about you for who you are.” as the night wore on and the beer cans dwindled, a connection grew between you two. stiles, usually tongue-tied and nervous around others, found himself opening up to you like he never had before. your witty banter and genuine interest put him at ease, making him forget his insecurities.

and then, in the quiet of that dingy motel room, stiles found the courage to confess his feelings. “you know, i've had a crush on you for a while now,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. you raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk gracing your lips. “oh, really? i had no idea,” you teased.

stiles chuckled nervously, his heart pounding in his chest. “yeah, well, i guess it's hard not to when you're so—amazing.” you leaned in closer until your faces were just inches apart. “you know, stiles,” you whispered, “i've had my eye on you too.”

in that small, dimly lit motel room, something shifted between you and stiles. two people, seemingly different in every way, found a connection that transcended their differences. as the night deepened, you and stiles shared more than just beer; you shared stories, dreams, and a newfound closeness that neither of you had expected. it was a moment of vulnerability and connection that would change the course of their lives, igniting a spark of something beautiful amidst the chaos of teenagehood. and as the neon sign outside flickered on and off, it seemed to mirror the uncertainty and excitement of the journey that lay ahead for stiles and the you.

“so,” you began, discarding the empty can of liquid gold as you spoke. you met his gaze, his nervous, shaky gaze with a hint of something unexplainable in your own. whatever it was, it drew him to you. just as much as his nervousness drew you to him. “never been laid, huh?”

the question had him taken aback, leaving him with an almost offended expression as he scoffed. “you almost sound surprised.” he inquired with a, yet again nervous, chuckle. you shrugged, taking the opportunity to sit next to him on the ragged, uncomfortable sheets. “you're a pretty boy, sti, you could say i'm surprised, sure.” he didn't know which part got to him first—perhaps it was the way your tone shifted from playful to seductive in a matter of seconds, or maybe it was the way your siren-like eyes held his shy gaze with an immense need to ruin him. before everything else, he was absolutely sure it was your words that had gotten to him first. pretty boy. yes, the way his jeans tightened only confirmed his lingering thoughts.

“you think i'm pretty?” it almost sounded like a statement, rather than your typical question. you smiled rather gently, fingertips slowly creeping up on him, brushing his hair softly, trailing down his clothed chest, gracefully caressing his bulge through his jeans. “so pretty.” you affirmed.

stiles didn't know how to kiss, he didn't have as much experience as you did. he lacked the experience and tact you had, but not the passion. not the passion, not with you guiding him every step of the way ever so gently. your hands cupped his cheeks, tracing his jawline as you coaxed him into the kiss, allowing him to take baby steps into relaxing and finally melting into it. once he did, you found your tongue sliding into his mouth, intertwining with his as your teeth tugged at his bottom lip, sucking gently. you heard him gasp, and it was adorable. he was like putty under your touch.

“you sure you wanna do this?” the question came out almost as soon as the kiss was broken, leaving him panting with a painful ache in his cock. he nodded, almost too eagerly, puppy eyes desperate to experience this more than ever. you littered kitten licks and kisses down his neck, relishing in the way he shivered at the sensation. you had successfully gotten rid of his shirt, feeling how he only grew more and more eager to get on with it. before you could go any further, you found yourself pushing him back onto the bed, straddling his lap.

he watched in awe from below as you peeled your top off, pulling it off your head, leaving you in a stunning black bra. his eyes admired the curve of your tits, the way the bra squished them together, the recoil incoming with every move you made. “c'mere, baby, don't be shy.” you cooed, encouraging stiles to do more than just stare. it was just what he needed to hear. though inexperienced, he allowed himself to do what he felt was right—peeling your bra off, soft moans of pleasure leaving his mouth as he allowed him to fondle and grope your fatty tits, sucking on them and toying with them in a way that made both of you moan. he had his face buried into the valley of your boobs, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as you pulled at his dark hair. he looked up at you, with an utterly innocent, horny gaze, saliva dripping down his chin as you watched him rut against the mattress, desperate for some kind of soothing friction. it made you all the more ready to ruin him.

“please, (y/n),” you had him begging for you to help him out, just a little bit. while you helped him remove his jeans, you couldn't ignore the way his moans got you worked up and wet. “gotta fuck you, please, please, please.” it was a string of incoherent pleading and whining, he was even more worked up than you were. he had no other way to act, what, with your tongue dragging alongside his clothed dick, teasing and taunting the wet spot on his boxers. you nuzzled your nose against him, tongue tracing his balls as you listened to the way he meweled, beads of sweat dropping down his temple.

that night, the first thing you found out about stiles was that he was sensitive. extremely sensitive. the second thing? he was hung. the sight of his bare dick made your eyes widen, the same way the feeling of the cool air hitting his hot, angry, hard cock made him hiss. unbeknownst to you, he had been carrying a, vaguely-spoken, above-average size this entire time. it wasn't something he chose to brag about—what would the context be? certainly not how he jacked off to photos of you every night, to polaroids he had taken of you on the beach or the mere thought of you in the position you were currently in. no, surprising you like this was much better.

“big boy, aren't you, sti?” the way you cooed, as if talking to a toddler, made his cock throb. he whined in response, breath hitching in his throat as you used your thumb to smear his dripping precum all over his cock, lubricating it with the thin layer of arousal. “you're gonna make a mess of me.” he hadn't planned on it until now.

he truly didn't know what to expect fron sex up until now. sure, he's heard stories from friends thay included scott and danny, he's heard the standard it set compared to using a hand to get off. however, feeling it for the first time—it was absolutely incomparable. it was another realm of euphoria, feeling his throbbing, aching cock slip into your wet, tight heat. you didn't have to prep yourself or anything, his long, hard dick gliding into the tight ring of muscle without a care in the world. he felt you flutter around him, the sensation better and tighter than when he uaually jacked off. his jaw slacked, eyelashes fluttering as a moan got caught in his throat. he knew he wasn't gonna last long.

“too fuck—fucking tight, jesus, shit—” none of his words were easy to make out, each one coming out slower than the last as you allowed yourself to bounce on his dick, hands pressed to his chest as his cock slid in and out of you. your tits were pressed to his face, and you couldn't help but moan lowly, the thin motel walls offering you little to no support. “so big, stiles,” you gasped out. you were full, fuller than you've ever been or felt up until now. his thick tip was pressing against your cervix, kissing it as he fucked you. “shit, too fucking big, sti.”

he loved it, loved knowing how good he made you feel. he used it to his advantage, repeating things he had only seen in pornos—rubbing your clit, fondling your tits, and grabbing onto your hips, grinding you down onto his dick as he fucked himself into you. he knew he was close, especially fast for his first time, especially fast for your third time. “i—i can't,” he forewarned, and he couldn't.

when he came, his mind went absolutely blank. he came hard, with a loud moan that had come off as unexpected for both of you. he came long and hard, harder than ever before, shooting all of his cum into your cunt, your pussy milking his cock completely, sucking every last drop out. his vision was blurry for a few seconds, and his mouth dry, the inability to form sentences overpowering him. if there was one thing you were good at, it was fucking.

and boy, were you a fucking good one.

#tw #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fanficfion #teen wolf smut #teen wolf angst #teen wolf fluff #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski smut #stilea stilinski angst #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinski x reader smut #stiles is so fine bye

[ateotd-izzy]

rainstorms | stiles stilinski x fem!reader

summary: it’s the middle of the night and you wake up due to the heavy rainstorm outside, and after you get up, your boyfriend can’t really sleep on his own.

warnings: none, just sleepy stiles

☾

you were woken up in the early hours of the morning by the sound of rain pattering against the window.

a few moments of lying awake made you shiver (that was because stiles was hogging the blanket) and realize how thirsty you were.

so, with a sigh, you slipped out from under the little amount of blanket you had (thanks, stiles) and let your legs drop over the side of his bed.

one leg of your grey sweatpants had hiked up your leg so it was rolled up to your shin and you fixed that before standing up.

the floor was cold against your bare feet as you slowly and quietly exited stiles' bedroom, careful not to disturb your sleeping boyfriend and his adorable snores.

you made it through the dark house and to the kitchen, where you got yourself a glass of water.

it was still raining heavily outside and you smiled at the sound as you headed back to stiles' room with your cup.

you opened the bedroom door and your eyes drifted over to the bed immediately. stiles was lying on his stomach, eyes closed, mouth open and one arm draped across the bed where you were lying before.

you smiled to yourself. he was so adorable.

you watched as more rain drops hit his window and it started thundering. you saw a flash of lightning and immediately walked over to the window and staring out at the dark night outside.

it was calming. watching as the rain stormed outside as you sipped your water at 3 in the morning.

you were so distracted that you didn't even hear the creak of the bed as stiles got up and walked up behind you.

"what're you doing up?" he mumbled, his arms finding their way around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, his face buried into your neck from behind.

"the rain woke me up." you answered, leaning your head against his ever-so slightly. "and i was thirsty."

"what time is it?"

"it's 3 am."

he pulled his head up to look at you. "you're a psychopath to be up at this time, i swear."

his voice was raspy and all a big mumble. he was clearly still half asleep.

"sure, buddy."

"crazy woman." he shook his head and closed his eyes, leaning against your shoulder again. "look at you, just watching the rain."

"it's nice, stiles."

"sleep is also nice." one of his hands moved from its place on your stomach and connected with yours. he tugged lightly. "please sleep."

"in a minute." you sipped your water again.

"it's so cold."

"then go back to bed."

"i'm not gonna go without you." he whispered, kissing the back of your neck. "i hate sleeping alone, you know that."

you took one last long sip of your water until it was all gone. you turned your body and walked back towards the bed with stiles, placing the cup on his nightstand.

stiles practically dropped onto his bed before rolling back into his place. he pulled the blankets over himself and patted the spot on the bed next to him for you.

you did lie down, except horizontally across the bed, rather than vertically. your head found its place, using stiles' chest as a pillow and he chuckled softly, his eyes fluttering shut.

"what are you doing?"

"sleeping."

"stop being a dork and lie down properly," he wrapped one arm across your chest. "dork."

"stiles, don't complain because you're a good pillow."

"yeah, but how am i supposed to cuddle you — or move for that matter — if i'm stuck like this?" he asked, his words still a jumble of nonsense.

"okay, fine, you win." you sighed playfully. you were already going to move, you didn't like the feeling of your legs hanging over the side of the bed.

you adjusted your position so you were lying next to him properly. he gave you a dumb smile in return.

"i love you." he whispered, still smiling, just now with his eyes shut again.

"i know."

his eyes shot open quickly.

"you didn't—"

"good night, stiles."

"hey." he glared slightly. "you gotta say it back."

"why?"

"because i need validation. tell me you love me."

you chuckled softly, pulling the blanket over yourself and moving closer to stiles, placing a light kiss on his lips.

"i love you too, you big nerd."

"thank you." he closed his eyes and held you as close to him as humanly possible. "now i'll see you in about... seven hours when i decide to wake up."

"good night, stiles."

"wait, what if—"

"good night, stiles."

"yep, good night." he peeked his eyes open. "going back to sleep now."

you chuckled and shook your head, lying down and closing your own eyes.

"what if i can't go back to sleep?" he asked after about a minute of silence and you groaned. "okay, well you woke me up."

"and you're the one who dragged me back to bed to sleep, stiles, not talk."

"touché."

a/n: just a little one shot from my wattpad that i felt like putting on here

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o’brien #teen wolf #stiles stilinski x you #midnights #stiles stilinski oneshot #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski fluff #teen wolf fanfiction

[stilinskibaby]

brother's best friend.

PAIRING : stiles stilinski x mccall!reader.

CONTENT : fluff ๑ angst ๑ smut

it started out as a childhood crush, as most longterm infatuations do. you couldn't have been older than four when you met stiles, your stiles. he was missing his front tooth and he spoke with a lisp.

he was wildly loud and animated and you know when you're a kid and you think a boy is so cute that you're sure there's hearts in your eyes. he spoke of playing dragons and knights with scott, “oh! and you can be the princess.”

it was a memory that you kept crawling back to, a time much simpler than now. you could have let out a cold laugh, now you were in constant fear of your life, scott’s life, stiles’ life. it wasn't anything you couldn't handle but you wished for the times when all you had to worry about was your silly schoolgirl crush on stiles.

today was surprisingly quiet, just defeating peter and dealing with the deadpool, you were tired. all of you were, but you kept an eye open just on the off chance that something would try to kill one of your friends.

you stared at your reflection in the mirror, and dotted some concealer under your eyes, anything to make it look like you got some sleep last night. you didn't have scott’s powers to fall back on, nor lydia’s intelligence and intuition. everyday you wondered if you'd be another human lost in the fight against the preternatural.

you tried to wipe the thoughts from your head before walking down the main hall of the high school, stiles stood leaning against his locker while your brother talked about god knows what.

you walked up to the two of them and tried to act normal. like stiles isn't a whole foot away from you, like his cologne isn't enough to make your knees quiver, like every little wink, smile and joke doesn't make you wanna beg him to love you.

you'd been dealing with this crush for as long as you have memories, it should be easier by now. it seemed like lately though, it was getting harder. almost like he was purposefully invading all your thoughts.

“helllloooo?” you came back to the present because of stiles’ voice and scott's hand waving in front of your face. your skin warmed from the embarrassment of getting caught zoning out.

“what? sorry, I'm just tired,” you sighed, seemingly having said that alot recently. but dealing with what you can only assume to be a unrequited crush is tiring. especially when that crush happens to be on your brother's best friend.

stiles eyes squinted with disbelief. if there was one thing you hated about the boy, it was his ability to tell when anyone was lying.

“right, anyways,” scott continued eyeing you from the corner of his eyes but you were already zoning out again.

your day continued on like that, just skating by with your mind constantly drifting back to stiles. it felt almost like you were cursed, your brain almost short circuiting whenever you tried to think of literally anything else.

before you knew it, as if on airplane mode you found yourself walking out the doors towards the jeep. since scott started working at the clinic, you'd just been riding home with stiles. and due to the supernatural nature of your life, it's easier this way.

you climbed into the jeep and tried to keep a semblance of calm. stiles scent was invading your nostrils, with his lacrosse gear in the back seat and him sitting directly next to you. a soft song played on the radio, and if your emotions weren't getting the best of you ; you'd romanticize the man before you.

you were almost never quiet when left alone with stiles, it almost like you don't know how to shut up when around him. so the silence filling the jeep was becoming a bit much even for the hyperactive mind of stiles stilinski.

“you sure you're okay, sunshine?” his hand awkwardly patted your leg. stiles has been calling you sunshine forever, it's yours-and-his special little thing and even when you feel like the world is crushing you, it still gives you butterflies.

you had be around ten, you sat on the bus one seat in front of stiles and scott. stiles was talking mindlessly about lydia ( 12 year olds and their crushes ). and some kid was in the seat in front of you talking about how weird you were. being just a kid, you were almost to tears until stiles heard what the unkind words sprouted from the kid’s mouth.

“you don't even know what you're talking about! she's like sunshine.”

you found yourself blushing and feeling embarrassed, just for the kid to start making fun of you and stiles.

you let the silence hang a bit longer, trying to buy some time to tell a somewhat believable lie. the jeep came to a stop in front of stiles’ house. your eyebrows knit together trying to remember if there was some prior agreement that you forgot about.

“i think i know exactly what you need!” stiles spoke excitedly, and your heart felt like it was gonna fall out of your chest.

“a-and what's that?” you tried to convey a sarcastic tone but your voice shook as spoke. you prayed to whoever was listening that he didn't notice.

his eyes scanned your face as if trying to pry into your mind and it would give him all the answers. “movie night! i know we haven't done one in forever, but i think it'll help get your mind off whatever is bothering you. I know scott is usually here for this,” he sighed a little and rubbed the back of his neck.

your heart warmed, you couldn't believe the absolute kindness this boy had to offer. though every moment around him, was a kick to ego and a kiss for your heart.

“thank you, stiles,” his hand still awkwardly sat on your thigh, burning a metaphorical hole through your jeans.

he grinned that big smile, the one where his whole face turns into pure joy. it took everything in you not to just kiss him right there. and right as you began to get the courage he pops open his door and falls out the jeep. you chuckled to yourself bitterly.

you followed him into his room where you plopped yourself down on the bed. “so what's on tonight, star wars again?” you giggled as you watched him fumble through his dvds.

“actually, i rented heathers last night just for you, i know it's your favorite!” this boy was going to kill you.

and just like old times, he made popcorn and let you lay on his chest. you thought you might throw up. watching your favorite film, with the biggest crush of your life and it started to feel like you were suffocating.

you sat up anxiously, leaning against the wall, stiles’ head lazily rolled to the side, watching your every move.

“stiles,” your voice shook, your lips quivered and you were rubbing your hands intensely.

“hey! woah, hey, it's okay, whatever it is, it's okay, what's got you so upset? did you kill someone or something?” he tried to joke and relieve the tension and at this moment you think that might be an easier conversation.

“no, no, nothing like that,” the Perception of rejection was getting to you, an anvil falling on your heart. you laughed bitterly, “actually, now it feels so dumb. i just, stiles, i-i love you. i love you so much and i cant, i tried to swallow it and for a while that worked,” you were basically sobbing now eyes closed and lip shaking and you were about to lose your breath.

“but i can't, and I can't keep pretending i dont, but it's killing me and that feels dramatic but please, please don't hate me.” he knew this was very serious for you, a girl that almost never let anyone see her cry. amd he didn't mean to, and he feels so bad for it but he laughs, it just thr awkwardness that's in his bones.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, please I didn't mean to laugh, but i guess it just seems so silly to me that you wouldn't just tell me or someone and let it get so bad.” he pauses almost like he's trying to find his words. and all you can think about is running, running as fast as you can but his hand is on your leg and you'd feel so bad for it.

“i can't believe you could be so oblivious, I've been trying to hint to you for years now that i felt the same,” you didn't let him finish his sentence instead, doing what you've always wanted to do : kiss him. your lips mold together perfectly, you felt so far away, like you were in a dream.

the dream felt more hazy, when his hands find your hips and pull you into his lap. you can feel his cock hardened underth you, restrained by his jeans. you grind against and whimper into his mouth.

“stiles, stiles if you don't do something right now,” your words were breathless, somewhere between a whimper and a whine. his fingers move quickly to undo his jeans, while you shed yourself of everything but your bra and panties. you always wore cute panties in a secret way to manifest this happening.

as soon as he has you below, his hands are moving to grope your tits, he groans, eyes scanning every inch of your body, trying to commit every part of you to memory.

“fuck, you're so pretty, baby.” his words go straight to your core, warm, wet and clenching around nothing. you're thoughtless, the only thing left in your mind is him, so you just whine.

his fingers trace around your hips and slide your thong to the side to get a view of your beautiful cunt.

“you ready?” you nod, and he shakes his head, as if a new man. “say it,” as his hands slide over every part of your body except where you need him most.

“m ready, please stiles need you, need your cock. please, please” you were practically begging so pumped himself a few times before sheathing his full length into your cunt. it's so deliciously painful.

“mm such a good girl, taking me so well,” he pressed his lips against your forehead in a long kiss. before giving you long thick strokes, ans his hand reaching between you to rub little circles onto your clit. you were seeing white as continued to fuck you, your fingernails scraping against his pale skin.

his teeth gritted as he moaned, trying so hard to hold back. “m close, please please.” you whined and he fucked you faster, and harder. rough groans falling out of his lips.

your climax was closing in on your, your nails skating harder against him, your legs closing in around his hips. you basically screamed your orgasm out against stiles neck. he chuckled to himself, proud he could do all this. he funally let go, fucking you both through your climaxes. and keeping his now soft cock in your cunt, to keep his cum in you. thank god for birth control.

#scout.fic #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles smut #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski drabble #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinksi smut #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinski angst #stiles stilinski x mccall!reader #stiles teen wolf

[star-girl-05]

Game Night

Stiles Stilinski x reader

“Scott hates me” you whine, laying against the bed. In the beginning you thought it was your imagination. Now though you know it’s not all in your head, Scott hates you.

Today Stiles had a lacrosse game so you being his girlfriend were there. The game went amazing. Stiles ended up scoring the final goal of the game. You were so proud of him, the smile on his face made yours grow. You ran onto the field embracing him in a big hug giving him a kiss on the lips. He laughed against your lips holding you close to him and twirling you around. “Congrats, baby” you mumble against his lips.

He placed another kiss on your lips before telling you that he had to go to the locker room. You nodded watching him head to the locker room with the other players. He gave you a final wave before disappearing from your sight.

After a few minutes you decide to wait by the locker rooms for him. The two of you have plans to go back to his house. While waiting for him that's where you heard it. You hadn't meant to eavesdrop but when you heard your name you couldn’t help but listen.

“Is Stiles coming tonight?” you recognized the voice as Lydia.

“No he’s going with Y/n” you could hear the annoyance in Scott's voice. “This is the third time he’s declined hanging out to spend time with Y/n.”

“What’s wrong with you thats his girlfriend? Don’t tell me you're jealous” you could hear her laugh at the thought but Scott doesn’t.

“Of course I’m not jealous I just don’t like her” you could hear Lydia question why that was. His answer solidified the idea that he hates you. “Stiles can do so much better than her.” You tuned out the rest of their conversation.

You knew Scott didn’t like you but you hoped that over time he would warm up to but he never did. The rest of the group didn’t mind you the girls would invite you out shopping and to sleepovers. It was just Scott that didn't like you and you had no idea what you did. Now you find out it was nothing you did, he just didn’t like you; he thought Stiles could do better. You finally had the answer to the question that had been plaguing your mind for months.

Your problems weren't over though with one question answered, more showed up. Did Stiles know how Scott felt about you? If he knows about how Scott felt about you, would he break up with you? You know how much Stiles loves Scott so the idea that Stiles would break up with you to make Scott happy wasn’t too far-fetched.

You watched as Stiles took off his jersey throwing it in the hamper. He changed into his pajamas before sitting on the bed next to you. “Scott doesn’t hate you” he grabbed your arm pulling you into him. The two of you are cuddled up in bed together, your head on his chest while his hand runs up and down your side. You lean up and place a kiss on his lips. You weren't planning on telling him about what you heard but you did want to gauge if he knew how Scott felt.

“If Scott asked you to break up with me would you” you could tell the question surprised him. He tensed under you. Stiles had just had a big win, his shining moment and you felt you were running it and you were. It was selfish of you to bring this up but you needed to know before it got any worse.

“Where is this coming from?” he chuckled at the sudden question but stopped when he saw the look in your eyes. You were being dead serious. He could see the doubt in your eyes about your answer. It hurt him thinking that you doubted his love towards you. “Of course not baby” the sincerity in his voice made you believe him. The look of complete love in his eyes settled all your doubt.

You lift yourself up off his chest placing a deep kiss on his lips he returned the gesture right away. Pulling you into his lap, his hands on your hips as he deepened the kiss. He started to place kisses on your neck. Sucking dark hickeys into your neck mumbling small ‘I love yous’ against your neck. You whisper ‘I love yous’ back to him.Every last one of your doubts disappeared with every ‘I love you’ and kiss. You're not going to let Scott come between the two of you again. It no longer mattered if Scott liked you because Stiles did he loved you and you love him.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #scott mcall #lydia martin #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fandom #stiles fluff #stiles imagine #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski fluff #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fluff #beacon hills #beacon hills fanfiction #beacon hills fic

[twjournals]

summary: you're drunk at the club and Stiles takes you home

word count: over 1.4k

warning: two besties in love but neither will make the first move, drunken kiss, protective Stiles

"Think she's even good to drive?" Scott leaned into Stiles to talk over the music.

Stiles' eyes never left your as he shook his head. "Not a chance."

He had watched you nearly all night, between dragging Lydia to the dance floor with you every time your song come in (who knew you had so many) and nursing your drinks. He watched mainly because he wanted to make sure your night wasn't ruined by some scum. Or at least that's what he told himself. Either way, he was only looking out for you.

Lydia dragged you back to the bar with her arm around your waist. "Come on, Y/n, help a girl out." She huffed which caused you to giggle.

You propped yourself up against the bar, leaning your head against Stiles' shoulder with a sigh. His arm protectively rested around your waist to keep you up and though you were damn near wasted, you noticed.

"Keep an eye on her please. I need to use the bathroom." She says as she's already walking in the direction on the bathroom.

Stiles watched as you nuzzled your face in his neck for a moment. He wondered if you even knew who he was after that many shots. You were his best friend, aside from Scott, and he was in love with you. As much as he hated to admit it. Maybe he shouldn't hate it so much because you were after all his best friend. You knew each other in and out. No one could truly love you for everything you are like him, but it was also because you were his best friend that he hated to admit it. He feared even risking your friendship especially over his feelings.

"We should get you home." Stiles suggested.

You grumbled a noise as you started to sit up on the stool properly. Your hands held the bar for support. "I'm not ready to go though." You probably should go before you embarrassed yourself more, but right now, you had no shame.

You started to call the bartender over again, lifting yourself over the bar. Nevermind the way your dress was riding up, nor the fact that people could see your underwear. You had to get that man's attention. Just one more drink. That's what you kept telling yourself.

"Y/n," Stiles grumbled in your ear, feeling his chest quickly pressed against your back. He used his body to block everyone else from the show they would get. You weren't making this easy for him. "Sit down."

"Or what?" You shivered at the feeling of him pressed against your bare back, his warm breath against your ear. But you must stay focused.

"Where are your keys? I'm taking you home." He proceeded. You wondered if he was even listening.

"Stiles, I- I can take myself." You could feel your skin getting hot having him so close, or maybe that was the alcohol.

"Not a chance. Where are your keys?"

"No, I'm not leaving yet- that tickles-" You giggled as his hands tickled your sides while trying to reach your bag. "Nooo, I don't wanna go yet, Stiles-" You push yourself further into the counter, nearly throwing yourself over it in attempt to get out of his reach.

You're bent over the bar with a grin on your lips, your hands clinging onto his arms to keep him from getting your keys.

"You leave me no choice." He mumbled as he slips the bartender money to pay your tab just as you were about to order again.

You didn't have much time to ponder what he mean't by that before he was picking you up suddenly, pulling you over his shoulder. His hand shielded your ass to keep people from seeing up your dress as he carried out of the club.

"Stiles, put me down!" You protest.

You hear the door to the jeep open before he's putting you in passenger seat. He pointed a finger at you as he blocked you in. "You're drunk and I want you getting home safe." He stood still to make sure you didn't try to jump out on him. "Stay."

Your eyes lingered on him for a moment, the soft look at his eyes easing any emotion of anger. He shut the door before walking around to the driver side.

You could feel his eyes on you as you gazed out the window at your car still parked in the parking lot. "What about my car?" You hiccuped.

"It'll be okay. We'll come back for it tomorrow." He assured as he started to drive you home.

The car ride was quiet aside from your hiccups. Stiles glanced in your direction when your hiccups died down, hoping he might find you asleep, but you were still awake with your stare lingering out the window. He worried he might have pissed you off for carrying you out of the club, but then again he knew you would thank him in the morning.

He pulled the door open while you were in front of your place.

"Mad at me?" He couldn't help but to question.

You shook your head though, reaching your arms out for him to pick you up. He smiled, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you bridal style up the sidewalk toward your apartment building.

You listened to his heart beating against his chest and how it increased when your hand rubbed across it. You really couldn't ask for a better best friend. No one had ever looked out for you like Stiles did, cared for you the way he did. You almost laughed at the thought of Lydia trying to get you up to your apartment.

Stiles sat you down when you finally reached your bed, taking a moment to help you out of your heels so you could get into bed. "Before I go, can I get you any-" You caught him off guard when your lips pressed to his suddenly. Maybe you shouldn't have, but given how much liquor you had consumed, nothing was stopping you now. In fact, it only made the craving worse.

His lips were still against yours, processing what was happening. You were kissing him. This was really happening.

His arms wrapped around your body when he finally kissed you back. Your hands gripping the back of his neck to pull him further on the bed with you until his hands met the mattress.

"Wait-" He mumbled against your lips.

You parted from the kiss to look at him, still holding the back of his neck.

He closed his eyes with a frown. "Not like this." He started as he pushed himself up on the bed.

"Oh." You sat up on the bed, awkwardly crossing your legs as you adjusted your dress.

"No, I didn't mean it like that- I just Fuck.. You're perfect. Really you are. I have wanted this for so long, but I can't do it like this."

"Stiles.."

You watched the way he ran his hand down his face in frustration. You crawled closer to him on the bed, rubbing your hand in soothing circles against his back in attempt to calm him through his panic.

"You didn't do anything wrong." You assured.

"You're drunk-"

You interrupted him with a giggle. "To be fair, I kissed you first."

And yet he still couldn't stop himself from feeling this way. Not because it happened but more because he wanted to do it again. Just to pull you into his arms and kiss your lips all over again. He had no shame in kissing you, only never wanting to stop.

"I'm sorry for kissing you." You apologized.

He watched you lay back on the bed and sighed as he helped you pull the covers over your body. "Don't apologize."

"I don't want you upset."

"I'm not upset." He assured.

"Then I'm not sorry." You admitted honestly, quickly taking back your apology. Despite how much you had to drink, you would never be able to drown out the feelings you truly had for Stiles.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise before letting out a chuckle. "Well next time, would you mind doing it sober?"

Next time. Silly boy. It would be tempting. There was no doubt about it. You smiled instantly against the covers, turning over to get comfortable on the bed with your back facing him. You only hoped you would have the courage you do now to do it again sober.

"Goodnight, Stiles." You finally answered.

Though you couldn't see him, you could feel his eyes lingering on you. It was nowhere near the answer he was hoping for, but it was the answer he settled for. "Goodnight, Y/n."

#stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski fanfiction #this is probably a cringe but this man is too cute

[dcangel]

can you do another stiles smut?

Thinking about road head with stiles...

Stiles was the one who gave you those eyes; the kind that you do a double take at from across the room when you were with the pack, already onto the third night in a row of trying to figure out the mysteries of the latest supernatural threat.

But why would you even think to question it? Right now the rest of the pack thought you two had left because you simply told them you were tired and couldn't think straight—but that might've been because stiles was occupying your mind.

You hopped in the passenger seat and thought it was going to be a quick ride to his house—his dad had yet another late night shift thanks to the disappearances that certain people seemed to know more about than others—but when you realized you weren't on those familiar roads, you started thinking. Was stiles going to take you to the lookout point that overlooked beacon hills?

Honestly, it wouldn't surprise you if he just pulled over to have you on the side of the isolated back roads. It wouldn't be the first time you two went at it in the Jeep, you just felt bad for your friends with heightened senses that might've smelt the lingering aroma.

He didn't put his hand on your thigh like usual, not until you grabbed his hand and innocently intertwined your fingers did he pull away after pressing a light kiss to the back of your hand and rest his on the exposed skin of your thigh. Innocent enough, right?

Wrong. You couldn't have been anymore wrong. It didn't take long for his fingers to slide up the smooth skin, the side of his pinky and palm rubbing your jean-clad heat. Each time his knuckle nudged you in just the right spot, your hips twitched — more like bucked.

And it took even less time for you to unbutton them, his fingers soon pumping in and out of the wetness he smiled at when he felt it through your panties. Neither of you had even said a word, just small huffs that could be separated into either a laugh or a muffled moan, of course you were the one tallying up the latter category.

His index and middle fingers curled upward in come hither motions while his other hand remained on the wheel. He would've loved to see your face; the way you chewed your bottom lip, eying his hand and the way his fingers disappeared inside you before you threw your head backward against the head rest. Good thing the road was empty, because he may or may not have driven over the double yellow lines a few times.

You noticed the way his hips shifted a bit uncomfortably, but he hadn't said anything. At first, you thought that maybe he was a little uncomfortable with you, but you somehow hadn't found the bulge he was readjusting every now and then — leaving none of his hands to steer the wheel.

You didn't want to stop his rhythmic movements, especially since you had just started to feel a little something building now, but at the same time you also got your pleasure from pleasing him. You appreciated that stiles wasn't needy in the sense that when he was pleasing you he would stop and tell you it was his turn because he couldn't wait any longer.

Instead, he never said anything about it and as far as you knew, he didn't even think about it—having said so to you multiple times before.

But that didn't mean stiles was never needy, because stiles knew how to be needy and whiny in just the right ways to get whatever he wanted from you, and you'd easily comply.

"Stiles... wanna touch you." You breathed out, unaware that these are some of the first words spoken since you two got in the Jeep together.

"You are." He pressed his fingers upward in a pulsing motion, stifling a laugh at his own humor.

You rolled your eyes, at first you started to because of his bad joke, but they rolled further back at the feeling of his fingers pressing that spot inside you. "No, just—stiles, please..?" You said in that tone. That airy, whiny tone that sounded like your every word contained a soft moan of its own; the one that had him biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about fighting it, but knowing he'd give up eventually, so he just allowed himself to cut straight to the chase.

He gave your cunt if few more quick, harsh pumps and when he pulled his fingers back for what you thought would be another one, he didn't thrust them back in. Your body missed the touch, but your mind left no time to process as you had already unbuckled and leaned partially over the center console. Your ribs leaned against the edge while your elbow propped you up.

Reaching your other hand over, you saw as stiles watched you-rather, your hand—with quick glances between the road and your dainty fingers trailing over the already-strained bulge in his jeans. When you looked up at him, he licked his lips out of nervous or anxious habit, but said nothing as he fixed his gaze on the pavement ahead.

Like stiles, you wasted no time pulled the zipper down and unbuttoning them and opening the fly. Because of his seated position and the obvious lack of ability to move due to the need to maintain at least a few rules of the road and get you both home safe, he couldn't just lift his hips like every other night and allow you pull the denim down.

Slowly, as his wriggled his hips more-albeit unintentionally-his dick had formed a tent in his boxers. You didn't have the patience for teasing or talking things slow, and judging by the sighed moan he let out when you placed a palm on his covered shaft, neither did he.

Your dainty fingers quickly reached under his boxers, finding what they wanted easily. You looked up at him, only your eyes, not tilting your head up at all. You were entranced by him, all of him. The way his brown eyes were wide and his pupils were blown with lust, the way his pale freckled skin had a reddish hue settled on it, the way his short, brown, fluffy hair started to stick to his forehead from the thin coat of sweat.

You liked his current state, but you wanted to make a mess of him. Your hand guided his length from his boxers, freeing him from the confines of the restricting fabric. Your thighs clenched, and you bit your lip.

As soon as your hand touched him, he groaned. Your hand was warm and light on his skin. He mumbled out your name as you began to slowly stroke him.

You turned your body to face him more; the front of your thighs pressing against the center console while your knees situated on the gap between the seat and the center console. Luckily for you, your hair was already tied back. You bent down and placed a kiss on his tip, your lips leaving with a small coating of wet, salty warmth from his precum. Your tongue poked out and cleaned them, also grazing his pink tip.

Stiles wasn’t sure if it was even humanly possible to focus on the road while you went down on him. The way the flat of your tongue dragged up his (almost) painfully hard cock alone was making his hips gyrate, his foot heavy on the excelerator as his lower back arched lightly.

You wrapped your lips around his swollen head, sucking gently as your tongue licked and swirled around the sensitive skin like a lollipop. Unbeknownst to you, one of his hand left the wheel and gentle wrapped around the back of your neck, finding its place from muscle memory. His thumb pressed against the corner of your jaw, right below your ear, from behind, gently coaxing your head downwards.

You complied, slowly taking him in your mouth as your saliva dripped down the rest of his length, as well as your chin. You couldn’t fully get all the way down, because, despite your gag reflex not being as bad as it used to be (thanks to stiles,) you still coughed when his tip nudged your uvula.

The vibrations made his cock twitch, his head falling back momentarily before remembering to keep his eyes on the road. Thank god it was empty tonight.

He must’ve been driving in circles around the outskirts of town, because by the time you had familiarized yourself with his dick hitting the back of your throat, stiles could’ve came right then and there. The tip of your nose nestled against the trimmed patch of curls at his base as you let yourself adjust, hoping you wouldn’t gag again.

Your tongue was flat; pressed against the side of his cock and the bottom of your mouth. Reminding yourself to breathe through your nostrils, you slowly began to move up and down.

“Fuck,” He groaned, “faster.”

You obeyed, bobbing your head up and down quicker. You felt his large hand ravel in your hair, his fingers pressing on your head when he wanted you to take him deeper.

Your eyes watered, your vision becoming blurred, but you literally could not care less. You knew stiles would flip out if he saw your misty eyes, one; because he was constantly weary of accidentally hurting you, and two; once he knew you were okay, he was covertly hooked on seeing you look up at him with glossy doe eyes.

You felt the jeep suddenly speed up, sending your head back and hitting his stomach from the acceleration.

“Shi—Sorry, fuck… just like that.” He murmured, his thumb rubbing across the nape of your neck. You pulled your lips up, leaving them around the swollen tip of his pulsing cock. You knew exactly how to drive him crazy, and he knew it too.

You kissed and licked his tip, sucking lightly in ways that made his eyes roll back and caused him to forget that he was behind the wheel.

the tires trembled on the rumble strip rooted in the double yellow lines, suggesting that the jeep had crossed to the wrong side of the road. you hummed around him at the shaking, making his fingers thread through the hair at your nape, tugging at the soft strands.

suddenly, his attention was brought back to the endangering scenario by the wail of a horn coming from another car. you jumped, letting out a small squeal on his length before reflexively lifting your head. your skull met his forearms that were outstretched in an iron grip on the wheel. his knuckles turning white while he yanked the vehicle to the right, passing the left side tires back over the double yellows. the two cars’ tires produced equal squeals on pavement as they straightened out.

scooting back, you worked your way from under his arms and mostly back into your seat, leaving his neglected cock struggling with the loss of pleasure.

“m-maybe we shouldn’t… do this on the road.” he’d paused to look to you between words.

you hastily nodded. “yeah, no.”

nevertheless, your eyes found his swollen length. “i’m definitely not leaving you like that.”

his teeth scraped at his cheek to conceal a whimper, but it left in the form of his hips shifting. “o-okay.”

#stiles stilinski #stiles’!world #teen wolf #dylan obrien #stiles’s!world #stiles stilinski teenwolf #stiles smut #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles teen wolf #stiles x reader #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles teen wolf smut

[bubbly-parker]

~Stiles x Reader Best Friends to Lovers~

warnings: Angst, family fights, bullying by family member(grandma), body insecurities, plus size reader, f reader, SMUT: face sitting, oral both m and f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (WRAP UP) 18+ NO MINORS I'll tell your Mom! Stiles and Y/N are 18 yo in this and in their last year of highschool.

summary: After another nasty comment about your body by your grandma you stormed out of the house, your best friend Stiles picked you up and decided that today would be the night he shows you how hot you really are.

probably like 5-6k words ? just guessing here

REQUESTED? : YES

spoiler : Stiles didn't think you could get any hotter, but when he looked up into your eyes from this position, taking you in in your blushing form, he swore you got even more beautiful

a/n: my insomnia is kicking my ass rn, I have an exam in 5 hours its 3 am and I can't sleep so enjoy, also if things don't make the most sense in some parts of the story it's because it is 3am- the ending was rushed i have no brain energy left to think of a real ending I'll revisit this story in the next few days and fix it if necessary enjoy and don't forget to please reblog if you liked it and leave a request right here

"So, Do you want to talk about it?" Stiles asked, looking over to you in his passenger seat.He could tell you were in a sour mood before he even picked you up.

You were rounding the street, leaving your house behind. You didn't want to answer at all; tears were already burning behind your eyes, threatening to spill. "No" was all you managed to choke out before your tears started freefalling. You hung your head low, watching your tears drop on your lap.

Stiles had no idea what was going on; just a few hours ago after school, he dropped you off at home, and you had a bright smile on your face knowing your family was over for a visit and you hadn't seen most of them since moving to Beacon Hill with your parents two years ago. In the last two years, Stiles and you have grown inseparable; he's the best friend you could have ever asked for, so when you texted him at 1 in the morning asking him to come to pick you up, he knew something was off. He could always tell.

It wasn't unusual for you two to go on late-night drives, but the way you had conveyed your message seemed off immediately: "You need to come pick me up right now." Stiles didn't hesitate; he threw on whatever clothes he could find and took an extra hoodie with him, sneaking past his dad and out into the cold night air. He tossed the extra hoodie onto Roscoe's back seat, knowing you probably didn't even put a jacket on. And he was right, driving towards your house. He saw your silhouette standing in your driveway, no jacket on, just your PJ shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he swore were missing from his closet. You walked towards the jeep, and when Stiles stopped, you entered without a word, put your seatbelt on, and all you said was a quiet "drive".

Stiles didn't know what to do; you didn't want to talk, but he couldn't stand watching you cry; it made his stomach churn and his chest feel tight in a sickening way. He needed you to be okay.

He reached his right hand over to you, taking your hand that was fidgeting with your shirt in his. You loved the way his fingers wrapped around your hand; it always made butterflies erupt in your stomach, even if he was just doing it to comfort you. You let out a choked sob that went straight to Stiles's heart breaking it a little. "I can't help you feel better if you don't talk to me," Stiles whispered, but the Jeep was so quiet that you understood him perfectly. You knew he was right, and you also knew that if anyone could make you feel better, it was Stiles.

Stiles already had a feeling about what was wrong but didn't want to say anything in case he was wrong. He knew you loved your family, but they could be harsh at times. You told him about a year ago how, especially, your grandma would often give you a hard time because of your weight. He found it ridiculous because a) it was none of your grandma's business what your body looked like, and b) he thought you looked amazing—the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on. He loved holding you close and loved the way your body felt pressed against him. You've slept over at his place multiple times in the last two years, and holding you close as you slept is still his favorite pastime ever. Of course, he told you multiple times that you look amazing either way, but he understands how hard it is to feel comfortable in your own body, especially when your personal bully used to live with you.

Ever since moving away, your relationship with your family has gotten far better. Before, you used to live in one big house with your grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousins constantly around you.

You wanted to tell Stiles what happened and wanted him to hold you and make it seem like everything was alright, but your grandma's voice kept nagging you: "You better start dropping a few Pounds if you ever want that boy to like you back." That was the first thing she dared say to you as you walked into the house earlier. She had been watching you through the kitchen window as Stiles dropped you off after school.

Anyone could tell how in love you were with Stiles by the way you smiled at him. You'd have to be an absolute idiot to miss it, like Stiles, as Lydia likes to point out; he was one of those absolute idiots, as he doesn't seem to notice your feelings for him. Your mother immediately interfered with your grandmother and told her to back off; they never got along, as she treated your mother with just as much kindness as she showed you, none.

You didn't feel hungry sitting with your family during dinner, and even though your mother had served your favorite lasagna, you could only stomach a little salad from the side dishes before you excused yourself and went back to your room. Part of you knew your grandma was right. Stiles would never like you back in the way that you like him; your name doesn't start with Lyd and end with ia, nor are you a fit strawberry blonde; no, you're about the exact opposite of what Stiles has always desired.

Shortly before you texted Stiles to come pick you up, your grandma had entered your room. You had honestly thought that she would be in bed by now, as you hadn't heard any noise from down the stairs in hours as you kept to yourself in your room. "You know, I am just looking out for you." Your grandmother had started her lecture, a lecture that you are all too familiar with; you've heard it about 250 times by now. She's just looking out for you; she just wants to motivate you to lose some weight; she doesn't want you to end up alone with no man. You never understood where your grandma took her audacity from, considering that she wasn't the skinniest woman herself.

"I saw the way you look at that boy; be real with yourself. Do you really think you'd have a chance with him right now?" Knowing your parents and your family, you couldn't exactly lash out at your grandma, so you did the next best thing you could do, which was only moderately disrespectful: you walked right past her out of your room, put your shoes on, and left the house. You stood in the driveway, and the only person that you wanted to see right now was Stiles. You knew he would pick you up at any time of the day, so you shot him a quick text and ducked yourself into the shadows under a tree in your driveway. You didn't want your grandma to see you, but you knew she was watching again.

Stiles couldn't bear your silence anymore, so he spoke again. This time it startled you, as his voice was more firm and he sounded quite angry. "Was it your grandma?" he asked. Your head shot up, and you looked over at him in disbelief, wondering how he knew. When your eyes met his, they softened; his angry stare was gone. Of course, Stiles knew he always did, didn't he? You weakly nodded your head before looking down at your hand again. You suddenly noticed how cold it was in Roscoe, and you shivered. Stile's hand let go of yours as he reached behind your seat to get his hoodie from the back seat. "Here, I had a feeling you would be freezing," he said as he handed you his hoodie. As you pulled his hoodie over your head, you inhaled Stile's scent deeply, hoping he didn't notice. There was something so intoxicating about Stiles that you didn't know if it was just him in general or if your feelings for him were playing a trick on your mind.

"You know everything your grandma has ever said is not true, right?" You have heard this from many people over the years, but only when Stiles said it did you feel put at ease for a little bit. You sat in comfortable silence, knowing Stiles took over the conversation when you were sad, so you could just listen. "Y/N, I mean it; there's nothing about you that could count as a flaw in the slightest, and I don't know how to make you believe that... Sometimes I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so you could realize." Stiles sighed in frustration. You know his frustration wasn't directed at you, but it still made you upset. "Thank you, Stiles," is all you could say.

You leaned your head back against your headrest and closed your eyes. Just now, you noticed that there was music quietly playing in the background. Stiles must have turned it on at some point. It was your playlist, with Until Forever Falls Apart by Ashe playing in the background. You closed your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of driving around.

You were startled when Stiles woke you up. You noticed the Jeep was parked in front of his house. Sometime during the drive, you must have fallen asleep. Stiles still sat across from you in the driver's seat, his hand on your cheek as he slowly stroked across it to wake you up. You felt a yawn make its way across your lips and stretched your legs. Stiles got out and rounded the Jeep, opening your door for you. He held it open as you jumped out. Stiles took your hand as he walked toward the door. You shuffled a little closer, putting your head on his arm. You noticed the sheriff's car was gone. "My dad was called back to the station about an hour ago." Stiles said he had noticed you staring at the empty spot where the sheriff's car usually stood. Once inside, you made your way to Stiles's room; according to his alarm clock, it was almost 2 a.m. Stiles must have been driving a bunch of circles around the city while you were asleep. You made a mental note to quickly steal Roscoe tomorrow and fill his tank for Stiles.

You took your shoes off and crawled into Stiles's bed. You heard him shuffle around behind you like he was searching for something, but you just wanted to lie down. A few seconds late, you felt Stiles get in bed behind you, his chest pressed to yours as his arms sneaked around your waist. At first, you hated when Stiles touched your stomach, but at first, you were also not used to cuddling with a boy in general. To anybody walking in, you two would seem like more than just friends, and the thought of that made your heart race. As you lay in silence, you once again noticed music playing in the background. Stiles must have looked for his speakers; your favorite playlist was quietly playing from the direction of his desk.

Stiles's hand sneaked under your, or well, his, hoodie, and he laid it right under your breast on top of your pajama shirt. Suddenly you noticed how hot it was getting under the hoodie and blanket, but you didn't dare move to take it off out of fear Stiles would move back.

Stiles shifted slightly behind you and buried his head in your neck. While you were absentmindedly intertwining your legs, you swore you could feel something poke you from behind. Your eyes widened. You have felt Stiles boner against you before a few times in the mornings and always just shrugged it off as morning wood. You felt Stiles move a little again when he whispered "I'm sorry" right in the nape of your neck. You didn't know how to react as goosebumps covered your skin and a shiver ran down your spine. You thought Stiles would move away from you, but instead, he pulled you in, making you gasp out when you felt his hard-on fully pressed against you.

Stile's head was still buried in your neck when you felt him slightly lift it and press a kiss right between your neck and shoulder. Another shiver wrecked your body as you turned your head slightly to look Stiles in the eyes; he had fully lifted his head, looking down on you.

Stiles didn't know where his sudden boost in confidence had come from, but ever since he saw your tear-filled eyes in the car, he wanted to confess his feelings to you and make you feel beautiful. Usually, when he got a boner around you, he would run off to the bathroom and take care of it, but right now, he wanted you to feel what you do to him.

He felt like he was about to explode with the way you were looking up at him—your big doe eyes, pupils blown wide, and lips gaping. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you.

You couldn't make out what you saw in Stiles's eyes right now; his dark eyes were almost black. "I really want to kiss you right now." Stiles's raspy voice said in a whisper that had your breath stuck. When you didn't respond, he moved his head a little closer to your ear. "Can I?" he asked again in a whisper. You could only nod your head. That's when Stiles removed his hand from under your hoodie to cup your face. When his lips finally met yours, you were sure time had stopped. You felt a new set of goosebumps rise on your skin as you kissed Stiles back eagerly, and you both smiled into the kiss when Stiles suddenly moved back. He pushed you back to lay flat on your back as he climbed in between your legs before kissing you again.

He couldn't believe that he was actually kissing you, mentally thanking every god out there for today. Stiles ground your crotches together, which ripped a loud moan from you. You turned your head away, embarrassed by what just happened. You felt Stiles heavy breathing. He took your face back in his hand and turned your head so you would look at him again. He looked heavenly; you can't believe what just happened.

"I've been wanting to do that for two years."

With these few words, Stiles had your whole world crumbling as tears slowly started falling from your eyes. You stared up at Stiles as he slowly started to panic, not knowing what he had done wrong. You couldn't stop the tears from falling. For the past two years, you thought that Stiles only saw you as a friend, when he might have wanted you just the way you wanted him. "Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I didn't want to cross any boundaries. I- I m so stupid." Stiles started to sit back and move away from you when you reached for his arm to hold him still. You still had tears in your eyes, but you couldn't stop a smile from stretching across your face. "And I've been waiting for you to do that for the past two years, you idiot." Now, it was Stiles's turn to look absolutely shocked and dumbfounded at the same time. "HuuH?" was the only thing he managed to get past his lips. You laughed at him and leaned forward, reconnecting your lips. You felt like a heavy weight was lifted off your chest. A lump in your throat that you didn't know was there dissipated, and when Stiles started kissing you back, you finally wrapped your arm around his neck. Stiles deepened the kiss, asking for permission with his tongue, which you happily granted.

Stiles groaned into your mouth when he finally got to kiss you the way he wanted to for so long, and when you pushed your hips up to grind against him, he swore he lost his sanity. His hands traveled down your sides and under your hoodie, where they settled at your waist. "Can I take these off?" he referred to his Hoodie on you and your shirt. You hummed, opening your eyes and looking back at him. "I need verbal confirmation, y/n." He chuckled at you. " Yes, Stiles, please." He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead before pulling your shirt and hoodie above your head in one go. What Stiles didn't know was that you wore no Bra underneath. He tried not to stare at your naked body chest underneath him, so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable when he looked up at you. You had your head turned away again, slightly covering part of your chest with one hand. He took your hand in his own slowly moving, removing it from your chest. He leaned back down and started spreading small pecks along your neck and down to your collarbone, which had you whimpering and trusting back up against him. You felt him smile into your skin. His hand slowly traveled down your body, settling onto your hips and pushing them back down into the mattress. "Patience, baby, we will get there." Stiles moved his head back up and turned your face to look at him. You couldn't keep yourself from blushing at his words. You've never known that Stiles had such a side to him. Your hands tucked slightly at Stiles's shirt, signaling that you wanted it off; he sat back on his knees and pulled his shirt above his head. You've seen Stiles shirtless before, and every time it makes your skin heat up, you're sure you couldn't blush a deeper shade of red as you were staring at his perfect form. When you looked at his face, you noticed he was already looking at you. Watching as you stared at his body, you felt flustered under his dark eyes. Stiles's hands were back on your thighs, rubbing small circles with his thumbs that made your legs twitch.

"Do you want me to stop? We don't have to go further," Stiles asked. "Honestly, this was already way more than I ever expected to happen. You don't -"

You giggled as you noticed Stiles was starting to get into a nervous ramble. "Stiles, calm down, you're fine, I don't want to stop." For the first time tonight, it felt like you could talk freely with nothing holding you back. "Okay, good, good, but tell me if I need to stop. I will I prom-"

"Stiles! "

"Will you please shut up and get back here?" You reached your arms out to him, signaling to him that you wanted him back on top of you. Stiles smiled as he leaned back down, capturing your lips in another kiss. Both of you hadn't planned this, and neither one of you knew how to make the next move. You both knew you wanted more, and you knew that Stiles had slightly more experience than you and hoped he would make the next move.

And thankfully he did. Stiles slowly moved his hand that was still on your thigh a little higher, feeling your breath hitch as he cupped your heat through your pants, slowly rubbing his palm against you. You let a small moan escape your lips, which was swallowed by Stiles as he kept kissing you. He undid the tie of your (his) sweatpants and pushed his hand inside he moved his fingers down over your panties to feel how damp they were. "Stiles, please," you whimpered against his lips. Stiles swore he was so hard that he could come from just looking at you right now. He pulled his hand out, and you buckled your hips in protest. A small laugh passed his lips. He decided not to torture you any longer and started to pull your pants down. You lifted your hips for him to make it easier, and when they were finally off, he ran his hands up and down your thighs, feeling your soft skin.

You reached one of your hands between you to cup Stiles's erection through his own sweatpants. Feeling your hands on him for the first time made Stiles let out a loud groan that went straight to your own core.

You pushed Stiles slightly so he would lay on his back as you climbed between his legs. He stared at you as you settled on your stomach between his legs. He wet his lips and groaned when you palmed him harder. He lifted his hips off the bed and watched you pull his sweats and boxers down in one go. You wrapped your hands around him and looked up at him as you leaned forward to lick one long stripe along the underside of his dick up to his tip, where you collected his precum on your tongue. "Fuck, Y/N, don't do that." Stiles threw his head back; there was no way he could look at you if he wanted to last. You wrapped your lips around him and started bobbing your head up and down in a slow rhythm. Stiles groaned above you as his hands grabbed the sheets, and you saw his knuckles turn white.

You took his hand in yours and guided it to the back of your head to signal him that he could take control. Stiles took your hair in his hand and wrapped the other one around your scalp, holding you close. Suddenly, he started thrusting up while simultaneously pulling your head down, his cock going further down your throat with every thrust. You tried your best to breathe through your nose. Stiles moans fueled your desire to make him finish, so you hollowed your checks more and sucked harder. One of his hands left your head, and he draped it lazily over his eyes, thrusting his hips fast and keeping your head down. "I'm I'm close- fu- so close, Y/N." You felt a stutter in his rhythm, and after a few more thrusts, his hips lifted up one last time. He pushed your head down fully, your nose pressed against his pelvis as he came down your throat. You swallowed around him, the overstimulation making him pull out.

"Come here," Stiles pulled you towards him. You had to crawl on his lap because you were too short to reach him from your position. Stiles pulled you into another kiss and groaned when your wet panties rubbed against his half-erect dick.

Stiles's hands roamed over your body and settled on your ass; he pushed your hips down to grind harder against him as you were still mostly hovering over him, unsure whether you should put your whole weight on him.

When Stiles finally felt you let go and sink down on his lap he moved one of his hands from your ass and in between your bodies where he pulled your panties aside, he moved back a little so he could see you fully and ran one of his fingers up and down your slit collecting your wetness, you moaned at the feelings of stiles finger on you, he moved his finger up and slowly started drawing circles on your clit with his finger pad, you fell forward and put your hands against stiles chest as you let your moans slip freely from your mouth you started grinding against stiles hand as he finally inserted his finger into you, you needed more already soaking stiles hand you begged Stiles for more "More, please Stiles" he added another finger, spreading you open, the hand on your ass helping you move faster against his hand. The palm of his hand rubbed against your clit. 

Stiles couldn't believe the sight above him, trying to implant your beauty into his brain forever as you threw your head back. "I'm gonna come- Stiles!" Your hips stuttered, but his hand on your ass helped you move through your orgasm. You collapsed on top of him. He slowly stroked your back, but Stiles wasn't done with you yet. He waited for your breathing to calm down before he spoke again. "I want to taste you." You felt another blush creep up on your cheeks. You weren't going to deny Stiles his wish and were going to move off him to lie down when he held you still. "Sit on my face," Stiles said as he pulled your hips upward. Your cheeks fired up as you started stuttering. "Whaat no, I can't, we can't," you tried to move off. "Baby, look at me. I know what you're thinking, and I promise you won't hurt me." Stiles insisted looking up at you. "N-no, what if I crush you?" you said quietly, not looking Stiles in the eyes. Stiles smiled at you, and his hands traveled up your thighs, gripping them tightly. "You won't, and even if you did, it sounds like a great way to go out." You frowned and slapped him across the chest, earning you a laugh from Stiles. "Y/n, I mean it; you won't hurt me if it makes you feel better. How about I tap your thighs like this if I need you to move up?" He asked while tapping two of his fingers against your thigh three times. He looked up at you, giving you the best puppy eyes he could muster. You knew you could never deny him when he looks like this, and with a sigh, you gave in "Ookay- but..."

"No more buts!" Stiles interrupted you. He lifted you up slightly as if you weighed nothing and helped you out of your panties before moving your body towards the headboard until you were hovering over his face. He caressed your inner thighs, spreading your legs further apart. Stiles didn't think you could get any hotter, but when he looked up into your eyes from this position, taking you in in your blushing form, he swore you got even more beautiful. Stiles's hands moved up to your hips, which he grabbed tightly before pressing you down onto him, finally having your cunt on his face. He liked a long stripe up from your hole to your clit, moaning at the taste, which sent vibration right through your clit and a shock up your spine.

Stiles ate you out like a man starving, pulling you even closer and fully burying his head into your cunt. He rocked your body against his face, his nose brushing against your clit as he pushed his tongue into you. You grabbed his hair with one hand and the headboard with the other, rocking your body back and forth against Stiles's face, letting moans of his name echo through his room, which only fueled Stiles on more. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, you ground down right into him. "Shit Stiles, s-sorry," you tried to lift yourself back up, but Stiles held you close, pressed up against his mouth. He opened his eyes and looked up at you, the eye contact sending shivers down your spine.

Stiles moaned against your clit making you throw your head back. One of his hands sneaked up your body and ghosted over your breast. Stiles has always wanted to touch them. When you put your hands over his to grab them harder, Stiles finally lost his last reserve and started rolling your nipple between his fingers. "Stiles, Stiles..." His name fell off your lips like a mantra as you came a second time that night, your legs clamping together around Stiles's head, trying to keep him there. He tried his best to lap up all your juices, and when the stimulation became too much, you lifted yourself up, much to Stiles's displeasure, as he would much rather have kept you there. You moved to the side, lying down next to Stiles.

You looked at him, his face glistening in your juice. "That was the best thing ever!" Stiles exclaimed with a smile on his face. You chuckled at his bright smile. He looked like a kid on Christmas. He leaned over to you, connecting your lips. You could taste yourself on his lips. You felt Stiles hard on press against your thigh. You moved your hand down his stomach and wrapped it around your shaft. You moved, so Stiles was in between your legs. "I want you inside me," you mumbled against Stiles's lips.

Stile's mind went haywire. He didn't expect to ever get so far with you, so he didn't have any condoms. You saw the worried look on his face as you watched his eyes scan the room. "I'm on birth control, Stiles," you reassured him as you ground your wet cunt against his hard cock. "Are you sure this is okay?" Stiles asked as he lined himself up with your entrance. "Yes, Stiles, I've never been more sure."

Stiles slowly pushed in, making sure not to hurt you. He knew you hadn't slept with anyone since losing your virginity over two years ago, so it stung a little when Stiles was fully inside you. He stayed still for a moment, just taking in your beautiful face and the feeling. "You're beautiful," Stiles said, smiling down at you. Stiles has called you beautiful before, but it had never made you feel the way it did now that you knew he felt the same way about you.

You moved your hips a little, signaling Stiles to move. "Stiles, move, ple-ase!" Stiles pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in. He immediately found the right spots that had you moaning under him, "fuck- fast- stiles faster!" You moaned in his ear. Stiles picked up the pace and felt your nails dig into his back. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder so he could reach even deeper. The new position made him hit your g-spot with every thrust and had you tightening incredibly around him. "Fuck Y/N, you're too tight." Stiles swore you were sent to earth just for him, as he filled you perfectly. He propped himself down on his elbow, pressing himself even closer to you. He reached one hand between your legs, rubbing your clit. 

You were still incredibly sensitive from earlier and came almost instantly while he continued rubbing your clit in slow circles to help you back down from your high. Your thighs were shivering. Stiles pulled out of you and turned you around; he gently pushed you on your stomach. You slightly lifted your ass up towards him as well as your shaking legs could support you. Stiles trusted back inside you, but with the first thrust of his hips, your legs already gave out. You were gripping the sheets between your fingers as Stiles held you against him, chasing his own orgasm. "Fuck y/n, I'm going cum," he said, his rhythm breaking. "In-inside... please stileees" you whined out for him. The thought of coming inside sent Stiles over the edge. He pressed his chest against your back as he slowly emptied himself inside you.

When he pulled out, you flopped back on the bed and said, "Don't move; wait here!" Stiles got off the bed and ran into the bathroom, you guessed. When he came back, he had a roll of toilet paper and a warm washcloth. He cleaned up between your legs the best he could before crawling back in bed with you. He pulled you flush against his chest, loving the way you curled into his side. You laid your head on your chest, listening to Stiles's heartbeat as he played with your hair. You heard Stiles say something but didn't register it, exhaustion finally catching up on you as you fell asleep.

At 6:30 a.m., just a few hours later, you were rudely awakened by Stiles's alarm. You debated for a second about just skipping class when Stiles and you heard his dad in the hallway. You both immediately sprang into action, getting your clothes back on, just as you had finished putting on your clothes and pulling your shirt down, the sheriff entered the room. He looked surprised, expecting to only find Stiles.

It's not like you have never slept over at Stiles place, but usually the sheriff knew. Judging by the way the sheriff looked at Stiles, he already knew what had happened between you two. "Just make sure you both make it to school in time, okay?" Was all he said, looking at Stiles, who nodded his head, hand scratching his neck. "We have to be quick; I need my stuff from home," you reminded Stiles after the sheriff left.

Stiles dropped you off at him with barely 10 minutes to spare, which definitely wasn't because you two took an extra long shower this morning. Your mother tried to approach you and question you about what happened and why you weren't at home, but you just brushed her off promising to fill her in later. You changed your clothes, grabbed your bag, and were back in Stiles's jeep in record time. You knew your grandma was watching again from the kitchen window, so you reached over and pulled Stiles into a kiss.

Stiles caressed your cheek and deepened the kiss. You didn't pull back until you couldn't breathe. Just as you were about to lean in again, you saw your dad leave the house out of the corner of your eye. "Drive!" You turned to Stiles, who didn't need to be told twice as you both made your way to school. You couldn't help but laugh at the face your dad made while standing alone in the driveway.

At school, you and Stiles walked in holding hands, looking for your friend group. The first one you spotted was Lydia, who gave you a knowing smirk. "It looks like you're no longer on the list of oblivious idiots, Stiles," she said, making Stiles look confused.

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf stiles #stiles x reader #fanfiction #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski imagine

[mxltifxnd0m]

𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗗𝗔𝗟𝗔 𝗩𝗦 𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦

»——•——«»——•——«

Summary: You and Stiles can’t choose a couples costume

Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x fem! Reader, Scott McCall x platonic fem! Reader 

Words: 1.6K

»——•——«»——•——«

Warnings: no use of y/n, fluff, language, suggestive, spicy, implied smut, BUT NO SMUT, kinda a college au!

A/N: This was intended to be released in October, but I could not figure out how to finish it for my life. But hey, better late than never, am I right? Anyway I had no clue that Han and Leia’s ship name was Scoundress, but the more you know. Also, it is my first time writing for Stiles!

not beta read but YOLO

𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘪 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

»——•——«»——•——«

"I don't know why you insist we should be Anakin and Padme! We would fit Leia and Han more for Halloween." Stiles whispered harshly, not looking up from the notebook that he was scribbling in.

You roll your eyes at him, "What are you talking about? I said we could do either, but I'd prefer if we were Anakin and Padme." You whisper to him. His head snaps up to protest, but a chair scrapes along the carpeted floor and interrupts Stiles. 

"There you guys are! I was wondering where you were." Scott says a little too loud, and the people at the other tables surrounding you and Stiles give Scott a dirty look.

"Scott, I know you don't visit the library often, but we typically use our inside voices." You whisper as he sits down next to Stiles. Scott shoots you a glare. 

"Anyways, I disagree. We should be Leia and Han, and that's final." You can see that Stiles is done with the conversation.

You squint suspiciously at your boyfriend, "You just want to see me in Leia's slave outfit from ROTJ, don't you?" You can see a red flush creep up Stiles's face and the tips of his ear as he stammers, trying to defend himself before giving up and returning to his notes. You chuckled under your breath to avoid disturbing the other students. 

Scott looks between the two of you, confused, "What are you guys even talking about?" 

"We are trying to figure out what costume we will wear to the party your frat is hosting." You explain, your voice low, "But we are split between two costumes. I want us to be Anakin and Padme, but Stiles-" He snaps up at the call of his name, focusing on the conversation, "-wants us to be Leia and Han." You glare at Stiles. 

"I thought Luke and Leia were together?" Scott says cluelessly. Both you and Stiles groan loudly at Scott's words. A girl from a nearby table glares at you and shushes you. You apologize quietly and turn your gaze to Scott. 

"We've gone over this before Scott. Luke and Leia are siblings, and Han and Leia are together. Do you just forget the movies as soon as we watch them?" Stiles asked exasperatedly. 

"No, I tend to fall asleep halfway through the marathons," Scott says guiltily as he scratches the back of his neck. Stiles closes his eyes and uses his hand to rub his face frustratedly. Stiles murmured something under his breath, and Scott's face screwed up into an offended expression.  

"I heard that." 

"Yeah, no shit, you did. I'm the one who said it for your little werewolf ears to hear." Stiles scoffed quietly at Scott. 

Scott goes to retort, but you snap your fingers twice to get their attention. "As much as I would love to see the two of you bicker, we all know how loud you guys get when you do, and I don't fancy getting kicked out of the library." You smile sardonically at them. They roll their eyes at you but yelp in pain as you lean over the table and tug their ears. 

"Could you guys be quiet? Some people are studying." The girl from earlier whispered firmly to you guys. 

You wince at her tone, "Sorry, we're leaving now." You whispered. You glared at Scott and Stiles and started to pack up your things to leave the library. Stiles scrambled to pack his things, and the two boys followed you outside the library. 

Stiles wraps an arm around your shoulder as you walk through the quad. You thread your fingers through his hand, and he squeezes your hand three times. The annoyed expression melted off your face, and a smile replaced it. You take a quick glance at your phone, checking the time. 

Your eyes widen, "Shit! I have to go! My class starts in 10 minutes." You untangle yourself, "Our discussion isn't over." You tell Stiles before separating yourself from him, pecking his cheek, and waving goodbye at the both of them as you speed walk to your class. 

»——•——«»——•——«

The sound of a keyboard clacking echoes through your silent bedroom. You're hunched over your laptop on your bed as you work on one of your papers for your English class. Lofi beats play quietly in your headphones as you read through your paper for the final time before returning to it tomorrow to edit it. A knock at your bedroom door catches your attention. 

"Yeah, what's up?" You say to your roommate as she peaks her head into your room. 

"You have a visitor." She says with a knowing smirk on her face. 

You roll your eyes at her, smiling, "Tell him he's actually banned from the apartment, then let him in." You instruct as you remove your headphones and stretch your back from your hunched position.  

She nods and closes your door before leaving. You can hear the voice of your roommate and Stiles's voice talking lowly in the apartment's entryway. You hear a scoff from Stiles and footsteps quickly entering the apartment and heading toward your room. He burst through your door, pointing at you. 

"You are so mean, you know that?" Stiles says with a slight pout on his face. He removed his backpack and toed off his shoes to leave near your door. He stands in the doorframe for a moment before you see a mischievous glint passes through his eye, and you catch it. 

"Stiles." You say his name warningly. 

He sends you an innocent smile before quickly running towards you and jumping onto your bed. You yelp loudly, closing your laptop and moving it out of the way of Stiles's landing. He lands on top of you, effectively pinning you to the bed. You can feel Stiles's chest move from his giggling fit as you try to squirm from underneath him. You give up after trying to push him off of you and thread your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp. He relaxes on top of you, settling his total weight on you. After a few minutes, he eventually rolls off you and sits on your bed.

"Any reason as to why you're at my apartment?" You ask him as you sit up and shift until your back rests against your headboard. You go to grab your laptop, but it's quickly moved from out of your reach, and you turn to glare at your boyfriend. 

"Oh, don't give me that look, you know what that does to me babe." Stiles sarcastically as he moves your laptop to your desk. 

"Besides, I'm here to present my argument as to why we should be Han and Leia for Halloween and not Anakin and Padme." Stiles moves closer to you and boops your nose after he finishes his sentence. You scrunch your nose at his actions and shake your head at him.  

"Nope, not going to hear it." 

He groans loudly, "I knew I shouldn't have asked you out, you prefer the prequels over the originals." He flops down on your bed, his head landing on your lap as his legs dangle over the side of the bed. 

"Is that your way of saying that we should break up?" You raise an eyebrow at him. 

He shot up from your lap, "NO! Absolutely not. You're like the woman of my dreams. I'd be an idiot if I broke up with you. Especially with the amount of shit we went through together in high school. I actually had dreams about marrying you, so-" His hands wave wildly as he begins to ramble. You roll your eyes at him and grab his chin to kiss his mouth to shut him up. He immediately shuts up and melts into the kiss. You peck his lips before pulling away. 

"You're such a dork." You smile at Stiles. 

"You're dating this dork." 

"Yeah, maybe Lydia was right. I am out of your league." You joke, and a noise of offense comes from Stiles. You chuckle at his pouty expression and peck his lips.

"I'm kidding babe." You say as you pull away. You move around the bed to straddle him, your thighs on either of his hips, his hands coming to rest on your waist, and you rest your arms on his shoulders. 

"How about we make a compromise? We go as Anakin and Padme this year, and then we can go as Han and Leia next Halloween." Stiles opens his mouth to respond, but you quickly put a finger in front of his lips. 

"I wasn't done, and to sweeten the deal, I'll wear Leia's slave outfit underneath both costumes." You lean closer to Stiles, "How does that sound." You whisper seductively in his ear and plant a kiss underneath it before pulling back to see his whiskey-colored eyes darkening slightly with desire. His hands tighten around your waist before flipping the two of you around, you landing on your back. At the same time, Stiles settles in between your open legs and hovering above you. 

"It doesn't sound fair, but if you wear the outfit often then I'll let it slide." He says lowly, lowering his face closer to yours. 

"Deal." You say breathily, your lips brushing his as you speak. 

"Deal." He says before smashing his lips against yours passionately. Your hands begin to wander and tug at each other's clothes. The room slowly grows hot and fills with low groans and whines coming from both of you. After you finished, you guys showered, went out to get the costumes, and tried them on when you returned to the apartment. 

Let's just say the slave outfit came off as soon as you put it on. 

#daisy writes #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x female reader #stiles stilinski x fem reader #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fluff #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #halloween fluff #teen wolf x reader

[strangerstilinski]

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 𝟒 — 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 𝘯𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺/𝘯, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘷𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹 (𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵), 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘺, 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨?, (𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦)

| 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟑 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟒 |

“Stop squirming around, would you?” Stiles huffs in frustration from behind you.

He's been like this for an hour, sitting between your spread legs, long fingers groping and rubbing and kneading at the doughy flesh of your backside. It had started out innocent enough, his restless hands gravitating to your ass while you'd been sprawled on your belly getting some reading done for one of your courses, but he'd gotten increasingly more distracting as time went on.

His hands had eventually slipped beneath the revealing cut of your sleep shorts to touch bare skin, calloused fingers dragging over soft flesh and the thin cotton of your underwear. Rather than simply sitting criss-cross between your thighs, he's upgraded to laying on his stomach, one arm curled beneath your leg so he can prop his chin on one of your thighs while his fingers continue to squeeze and massage.

He was right, you had begun to squirm. It was getting incredibly difficult to ignore the heat that his attention was causing to pool between your thighs.

“Since when are you an ass man, anyway?” You question as you finally give up on reading all together, trying and failing to peek over your shoulder to get a good look at him, “You've always been more of a boob guy.”

“I resent that,” Stiles is quick to defend, the pad of his thumb tracing the crease where your ass meets your thigh, “I like your ass just as much as I love your tits.”

You can't quite hold back a scoff at the blatant dishonesty and he's quick to correct himself.

“-alright, maybe I favor your tits a little, but- Oh my god, will you sit still?” Stiles snaps in mild irritation when your thighs try to clench instinctively but are unable to do so given the person currently wedged between them.

“What are you even doing back there?” You ask, voice thankfully only sounding a little affected, “You know, aside from admiring my ass and groping me.”

Your hips shift a little against the mattress and you know just by the brief moment of silence before his response comes that Stiles has noticed.

“Why?” He seemingly perks up in interest, voice pitching in a self-satisfied little drawl. His thumb dips between your thighs while he tightens his palm around you again and the digit comes achingly close to brushing against the wet patch you know has formed in the crotch of your panties, “'s'it workin' you up?’’ He questions eagerly.

“Yes.” You huff and squirm again, but there's a sharp sting on the meat of your ass, a hard pinch that makes you yelp in surprise and pain, “Did- Did you just bite me?” You ask in breathless incredulity.

Another painful pinch to your skin is the only response you receive. Stiles gives the flesh a hard suck before releasing it from his mouth and this time you're pushing up with one hand when you look over your shoulder, eyes roaming over his mischievous little grin, his full pink lips, the way that his fingers have tugged the fabric of your shorts up over the curve of your asscheek to display the evidence left behind.

“Jesus christ. Stiles! Look at what you did, what the hell-”

He looks annoyingly smug as his thumb drags over the place where his teeth have carved little indents into your skin, one of them already threatening to darken into a bruise where he'd sucked a hickey into the flesh.

“I dunno, I think it looks pretty fuckin' good.” He grins, exuding cool nonchalance right up until you catch the way that his hips roll down against the mattress to provide a little relief to his stiff cock.

“If you wanted to work me up, you could've just left a few marks on my thighs and gone down on me,” You flip your textbook closed with a huff, “Y'know, if you wanna get a little territorial or whatever. 's fine, it's hot, but there are much better ways to mark me up-”

His hand comes down on your ass in a light slap and you give him a half-hearted grumble about that not being what you meant, but he's already putting more pressure on his hand as he pushes up, and then his weight is gone completely.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t actually mean that one-” He apologizes as he tumbles from the bed in a mess of long limbs.

“What-” You start to roll onto your side to watch him, but the shout he sends over his shoulder as he digs through a drawer at his desk has you freezing.

“Don't move! Alright? I mean it!”

You settle back onto your stomach dutifully, propped up on your elbows as your gaze leaves his frantic search to re-open your textbook with a sigh, “What are you doing now? What're you even looking for?”

“You'll see. Now, quiet.”

His admonishment meets your ears sounding oddly garbled, like he's trying to speak around something in his mouth, and you make to turn toward him in curiosity, but he's already climbing back in between your thighs and giving your right asscheek a light slap in reprimand for moving. He tugs your shorts and underwear down your legs in one go and you can't help but crane your neck now, but the moment your torso twists to get a better look, he firmly pushes your hips back down onto the mattress, a wide palm spreading out over your skin to hold you in place.

Your heart pounds in excited anticipation at the feeling of your lower half being exposed while he's still fully clothed. Again, you try to clench your thighs together for just the little bit of friction the action normally provides, but there's not much relief with the way Stiles has you spread around him.

Something soft and cool meets your recently exposed skin, the texture difficult to place as it drags smoothly across the roundness of your backside.

“What's that?” You question, fighting the urge to wriggle in response to the peculiar feeling.

“Marker.” Stiles says easily, his voice taking on that edge it gets when he's focusing hard on something.

A soft snort of amusement leaves you as your palms fall to brace on the glossy pages of your textbook, “You're drawing on my ass?”

“Not.. Exactly..” He mumbles distractedly.

Another huff falls from your lips as the cap of the marker gives the telltale little click that indicates he's finished with his mysterious artwork, “Sti, seriously-”

A quiet groan cuts you off, the sound of it familiar and wholly erotic as it rumbles up his throat.

“Christ.. Fuckin' look at you..” Stiles groans, the pads of his fingers tracing over the ink on your skin.

You nearly shiver, goosebumps threatening to pebble along your skin in response to the gentle brush of his fingers across your ass. You make to ask him a question — to please just touch you where you want him, to tell you what he's drawn on your skin, to let you turn around so you can climb into his lap and devour him — but he's speaking again before you can form more than the garbled beginning of an ‘um-’.

“God, it is insane how hot that is,” Stiles grumbles as he dips down and his mouth finds the meat of your asscheek again, biting down softly this time and giving a small suck to the skin that has you nearly writhing, your fingernails scraping across the glossy pages of your textbook. His lips release you with a pop and his thumbs find the crease of your backside, spreading you and giving another little groan at the sight of your cunt shining with arousal. “Shit, I really was working you up, huh, baby? So fuckin' wet right now.”

“You've been groping me for the past thirty minutes,” Your assessment comes out a little breathless, an embarrassingly weak sounding thing, “What were you expec- ohh.. Ho-oh my-”

You're interrupted when he sinks a finger inside of you without preamble, pumping only twice before another joins the first and stretches you a little harder. It's an all-too easy glide, two of his long fingers pumping within your walls in smooth strokes with the aid of just how wet you truly are.

“Well shit, I'm sorry, babe,” Stiles says, genuine apology in his words that are dripping in an aroused sort of surprise, “Didn't mean to leave you hanging, and on our anniversary no less. If I'd known you were wound this tight I would've fucked you twenty minutes ago.”

The innocence in how he says it contrasts sharply with the actual filth spilling from his mouth and it has you reeling a bit, your ass pitching up and spine arching just a little to better the angle of his hand. You're so focused on the drag of his knuckles against your sensitive walls that you almost miss what he'd said beforehand.

“Wh-ah.. Wha'd you say?” You gasp, “Our annivers-uh!- 'versary?”

There's a sharp smack as he slaps the unmarked cheek of your rear, his lips pressing a quick kiss to soothe the warmed flesh before speaking, “Cannot believe you don't know that today marks six months since we started doing this-”

This, of course referring to the addictive situationship you've both found yourself in behind closed doors, in secret from the pack consisting of your friends and family, behind your brother's back.

“-You're gonna hurt my feelings, sweetheart, honestly.”

“Didn't.. Didn't realize.” You pant, a keening exclamation of ‘oh my god’ slipping past your lips when you feel Stiles push a third finger into your entrance, the stretch sending your eyes rolling back and your mouth dropping open with a keening whine.

“And to think,” Stiles starts slowly, his voice rumbling with clear arousal in his throat. There's a lewd squelch as his fingers drive in and out of your soaking cunt, a breathy moan punched out of your lungs when his fingers curl to reach that spot that makes your brain turn to mush. “To think I was gonna be so good t'you later. Was gonna let my girl ride my face for as long as she wanted, longer than she wanted probably, if we're bein' realistic-”

“Fuck..” His words have you moaning high and wrecked and unashamed. Stiles twists his fingers as he pulls them out and then thrusts back in, wide knuckles pulling a keening whine from you. “Please, fuck, Sti-”

“What's wrong baby? My fingers aren't good enough for you?” His voice is dripping with that teasing lilt that makes you weak in the knees. Right now, it makes you lift your hips from the mattress just a little bit more.

“So unfair-” You gasp.

“Unfair?” Stiles repeats in a slow drawl, “Baby, no offense but I'm the one rockin' a painfully neglected hard on right now,” His fingers push in to the third knuckle, his hand driving in so deep that it has a pleasurable ache building between your thighs. “Meanwhile, you've got three fingers stretching you out. Seems like you got it pretty good, to me. What more could you want, huh?”

His fingers are heaven, and he knows exactly how to use them, knows exactly where to aim and how hard and fast you like it, but you still need more. He's not touching you enough. His fingers in your cunt and his weight between your thighs isn't nearly enough to satisfy the need building up and twisting tight in your belly. You want his weight to crush you into the mattress, need his cock to give you that extra stretch that his fingers can't, need his sweat on your skin and his hands on your breasts-

“Please,” You whimper again, “Babe, please, c'mon, need you inside me.”

You probably should've been expecting the easy snark that spills from his mouth in response.

“I am inside you.” He replies all too smartly, repeatedly rubbing that tender spot on your inner wall until tears actually prickle at your eyes, a sharp sort of pleasure burning in your gut.

“Stiles.” You demand desperately.

Your pleading seems to finally break his resolve and his mouth finds the heated skin on the back of your thigh. He places a small kiss to the curve of your ass, then the dimples at the base of your spine. His lips make a slow trail up, small kisses left behind on his journey to the curve of your neck. Stiles pulls your hair to the side and leans in to taste your exposed skin, his fingers finally slipping from your cunt so that he can pull you up onto your knees, your back falling against his chest as you both sit up.

“Wha'd'you need, babe, huh?” Stiles murmurs the question over the shell of your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine as it fans out over your overheated skin, “You know I'll give you whatever you want.”

He holds you to his chest with one arm locked around your waist. His right hand leaves a scorching trail across your tummy on its way to your cunt, fingers dipping between your dripping folds and collecting a bit of your arousal before moving back up to circle your sensitive clit. The glide of his fingers is slick and intoxicating, a breathy gasp leaving your lips as your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“This all you wanted?” Stiles asks, voice a whisper against your skin, “Just wanted me to play with your clit? Is that all?”

You shake your head, brows furrowing and hips bucking into his touch.

“No?” He questions, lips finding the spot just behind your ear, “What'd'you need then, babe? You gotta tell me.”

One of your hands reaches back to grab the back of his thigh, fingers coming into contact with the soft material of his lounge pants as you tug his hips to yours. You can feel the length of his erection pressing into you through the thin layers of his clothing, his cock warm and stiff where it presses into the curve of your ass.

“Need.. Need you t'fuck me,” You pant, his fingers already so close to pulling an orgasm from you as he continues to play with your clit, “God, please, Stiles. I want you inside, please, please-”

“How 'bout you come for me and then I'll let you have it, huh?” He murmurs against your skin, his hips bucking forward into yours in a teasing thrust as the euphoric heat beneath your skin spreads further. “You're close, aren't you?”

A pathetic whimpered excuse of a ‘yes’ slips past your parted lips, your free hand reaching back as well to grab ahold of the back of his neck. Your grip is tight as your climax begins to crest, fingernails digging into the top of his spine as a wanton moan is forced from your throat.

“Just gimme one now and I promise I'll fuck another one outta you, okay? Come on-”

You come so hard that your legs give out, the arm Stiles still has curled around your waist forced to tighten to keep you against his chest, his bicep bulging as he supports your weight through the throes of your orgasm. His fingers slow against your clit as you come down before stopping all together, his slick hand sliding up to rub soft along your tummy as you pant in exertion.

He gives you a moment to recover, but you're still breathing heavily by the time he presses a kiss to your cheek and urges you down on all fours. You assume the position easily, resting on your elbows with your sweaty forehead stuck against the pages of the textbook still spread out on the bed. Stiles strips down as your heart rate struggles to slow, the mattress moving under his weight a few times before the warmth of his body settles behind you again.

“You good, baby?” He checks softly, one wide palm running up the length of your spine to rub at your shoulder.

“'m good, 'm good, just hurry up.” You plead, arching your back when his hand trails back down. His thumb and forefinger pinch your backside, an effective reminder of the ink he'd stained your skin with, “Never told me what you drew on my ass.” You laugh quietly, wiggling your hips in the hopes of enticing him into picking up the pace of things.

“Oh,” Stiles chuckles, thumbnail dragging over the ink as he grabs ahold of his cock and guides the head through your slick folds, “Wrote my name.”

Your responding laugh comes out in a breathy burst of air as he teases your entrance, pressing the tip in only to pull back and run it along the length of your wet cunt again.

“My.. My ass says ‘Stiles’?” You question through a body-wracking shudder when he teases his tip at your entrance again, pressing in just far enough for you to feel the stretch of his fat cock before he's pulling out all over again, the head bumping your swollen clit on the next pass through your folds.

“Stiles? No way, babe. I went full-name for this one. Mark-h.. ohh..” He stutters through his words the next time he presses in, letting the first couple of inches push into the tight heat of your cunt, “Marked my property accordingly n' all that.”

You swallow down a moan as the head of his cock drags against your sensitive walls, already fluttering around his length as your fingers fist the bedspread in a white-knuckled grip.

“Oh, fuck off,” You gasp in mild incredulity, “Your property?” You bite back, though the thought of the image admittedly prompts a swarm of butterflies in your tummy.

“Mhm,” Stiles hums a little breathlessly as his restraint wavers, pushing in another inch or so as his grip on your hip tightens, “Don't act like you don't think it's super hot. My name marked on your skin-”

“Shut up,” You scoff weakly, “I do not.. Don't think it's hot.”

“Sure, babe,” Stiles agrees condescendingly, “Wanna write yours on my ass after we're done? Equality n' all that.”

“Somehow, I'm not sure having McCall scrawled across your ass cheek is gonna have the same effect, even if it's got my name in front of it.” You manage before rocking your hips back to force more of his cock in.

“Fine, fine,” Stiles huffs, “But don't say I didn't offer-”

“God, will you just shut up and fuck me alread-”

You're effectively cut off when Stiles drives all the way in with a hard thrust, a loud moan tearing from your throat.

“Better?” Stiles asks, already breathing a little heavy as he sets a punishing pace, the sound of skin slapping skin with each smack of his hairy thighs against the smooth backs of your own.

“Yeah. Yeah, fuck, like that-” You cry out in whimpered praise, “Harder. Sti, please, need it, harder.”

His only response is a groan as he pounds into you with redoubled effort, the thick head of his cock hitting your cervix in a hard jolt with each thrust.

It doesn't take long for you to begin to fall apart all over again, Stiles' fingernails biting into the skin at your hips as he tugs you back down onto his cock again and again.

“Feel so fucking good.” Stiles groans as you fuck yourself back in time with his thrusts.

A gasp tears past your lips when he slips an arm underneath you and drags you up until your back is flush with his sweaty chest again, the angle of his cock changing just enough to have you letting out a drawn out moan.

Your thighs settle on either side of his as he continues to pound up into you and then his hand is finding your face, forcing your head to the side so that he can draw you into a heated kiss. Your hand ensnares his wrist to hold Stiles' in place on your jaw, his fingers pressing into the sensitive spot beneath your ear as your mouths work in a sloppy mess of tongues and teeth and hot breaths.

His sweat-slicked forehead drops against yours, his cock managing to hit all of the right places as his thrusts slow slightly, each one a slow drag against your sensitive walls.

“God, you.. You look so fuckin' pretty like this.” Stiles tells you with another lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth.

The white-hot flame in your gut has you trembling in his arms and you reach back to tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, the soft strands trapped in an iron-tight grip as your back arches, your own head falling back against the curve of his shoulder.

“Stiles-” You whimper desperately, fingers tightening impossibly further around his sweat-damp hair.

He pants into your mouth, each of his slow, deep thrusts prompting obscene sounds from the place where the two of you are joined.

“You close, babe?” He asks breathlessly as he tries to hold off his own steadily approaching end, “God, I need you t'come. Need more? Need me to touch you, baby?” He questions in a rasp, ever attentive and desperate to please you as he always is.

Before you can even respond, he's already switching the placement of his hands on your body so that he can drop his right one down to cup your heat. His big hand finds the wetness between your thighs, fingers zeroing in on your clit with the sort of effortless precision that can only come from months intimacy, from hours upon hours spent learning every inch of your body, studying your reactions to his touch with a hyper-focussed intensity that was just so Stiles.

You cry out at the feeling of his fingers rubbing you with practiced movements, his cock driving against that spot inside of you only a handful more times before you're bearing down on him, mind whiting out with the toe-curling euphoria that takes over your body. The shaky moans that Stiles pushes from your lips as he keeps fucking into you are something that you'd be horrified to hear come from your own mouth if you had the brain capacity to process them through the fog of your orgasm — but as it is, they tumble from your throat freely, your body trembling against the tight cocoon of Stiles' arms curled around your ribs as he supports your weight.

Your ears are only just beginning to hear sounds beyond the high-pitched ringing brought on by the strength of your climax when Stiles' thrusts begin to falter. The jerky slap of his hips against the backs of your thighs, his heavy breaths into the curve of your neck.

His fingers find where yours are still tangled in his hair and he tries to pry your grip away, “Baby, baby 'm gonna come,” Stiles moans in warning, “Wanna come on your ass. Please. Please, baby, I wanna-”

You pitch forward easily, dropping onto your elbows with shaking arms and arching your back enticingly for him. Stiles groans loud at the sight, the sound of it getting caught in his throat as he pulls out and begins to jerk his cock in earnest. Lewd, slick noises fill the room over the sounds of your labored breathing, the wetness that coats him aiding the smooth drag of skin on skin as he fucks into his fist with a gut twisting sort of desperation.

With a little wiggle of your hips, you encourage him despite still being a little breathless, “Come on, Sti, give it to me. Paint it right there on your name-”

“'m gonna,” He promises in a weak groan, the fingers of his free hand biting into the plush flesh at your hip with a bruising grip, “Gonna fuckin'.. Shit, 'm gonna put it right there. Gonna.. Gonna mark my girl up so.. So fucking good. Fuck.. Fuck, I love you. Loveyouloveyouloveyou, I'm, shit, 'm coming-”

Your mind is reeling a little bit in the wake of his lust-fueled admission, the dull beat of your heart echoing with his words as the warmth of his come meets your skin, dripping down the curve of your ass in thick ropes.

Stiles plasters himself to your back as he catches his breath, entirely uncaring of the mess of bodily fluids between you as lays down on the bed and pulls you into his chest. His breath falls against the sweat-slicked skin of your neck in warm puffs while his voice rings in your ears still — the memory of those words, the wrecked rasp of them slipping past his lips.

Loveyouloveyouloveyou.

I love you.

You twist around in his arms, late-afternoon sunlight coming in through his bedroom window displaying the pink flush that lingers on his mole-speckled cheeks. Your head drops against the pillow currently underneath his own while your knee pushes between his hairy thighs, brown eyes finding yours, Stiles' gaze soft and sated.

“I love you too.” You whisper through the nerves twisting in your stomach.

A wide array of emotions flicker across his face, initial confusion quickly melting away into a relieved sort of surprise.

“Holy shit,” Stiles breathes, wide palm coming up to cover your jaw. His thumb swipes the apple of your cheek with smooth strokes and his eyes flick quick between yours, his lips pulling into a grin that dimples cutely in his cheek, “I can't believe I- Shit. No, I do though, I.. I love you.”

“I love you.” You repeat in a daze, fingertips tracing idle circles through the dark patch of hair at the center of his chest.

“Does that mean you're gonna let me do this again when my name eventually washes off?” He asks with a mischievous little grin that makes your insides twist warmly, his brows jumping up his forehead playfully.

“You're an annoyingly territorial little shit, y'know that?” You laugh softly before your brows are drawing together in slow confusion, “Wait. Wha'd'you mean eventually? Why'd you say it like that?”

“Well, y'know, I used a sharpie, so-”

“You used a permanent marker?” You repeat incredulously, pinching his skin between your thumb and forefinger a little meanly as your nose scrunches up, “Such a dickhead.”

Stiles gives you a grin that spreads wide across his face until you can see those very same perfectly straight teeth that have left bruising love bites into the soft flesh on your backside. He dips his head and his lips find yours, the salty tang of the sweat clinging to his upper lip meeting your tongue as he speaks into your mouth with easy confidence.

“You're totally gonna let me do it again.”

And well.. He's probably not wrong.

𝐚𝐧; 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧.. 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬.. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲. 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡. 🥴

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲! 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭!! 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐞𝐥, 𝐬𝐨. 🤍🥰🤍

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #stiles stilinski smut #stiles smut #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o’brien smut #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o’brien imagine #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf smut #stiles x mccall!reader #mccall!reader #teen wolf stiles #don't tell scotty #*

[sarcasm-and-stiles]

Y/N: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night?

Stiles: It was autocorrect.

Y/N: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."?

Stiles: Yes.

#fanfiction #incorrect quotes #x reader #incorrect quote generator #sarcasm and stiles #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x reader #incorrect teen wolf quotes #teen wolf #x yn

[voidpetrova]

stiles would def talk u through it

your bodies collided with an almost aggressive passion as stiles' pelvis drove into yours, hips colliding as he practically began rutting against you, savoring the friction—savoring the way your cunt swallowed him whole, gripping his cock with an intensity that barely allowed him to pull out. he hit your sweet spot with every thrust, each attack more brutal than the previous one.

he loved to touch you. he loved having his hands all over your body, exploring every inch of skin. every curve and every surface was violated, your softest bits littered with hickies. he was messy, he was desperate. he was practically drooling because the high he so desperately chased was absolutely insatiable.

you squirmed from beneath him, your body quivering under his touch. the stimulation was too much for you—your boyfriend was big, so incredibly big and girthy and he knew exactly how you liked to be fucked. he knew how to make you see stars, and he used it to his advantage. your legs were on his shoulders, giving him absolute access to your pussy. he leaned forward, leaving sloppy kisses all over your face to balance out the sheer desire coursing through your veins. he was quick to notice how fast you crumbled, how quick you were to give in. it made his heart melt as much as it made his dick hard.

“doing s'good for me, princess,” he practically purred in your ear. he had his right hand on your throat, fingers wrapped around your jaw, tilting it up and pressing the side of your face against his as he quickened his pace, his balls slapping against your ass in an absolutely sinful way. “i got you, baby, i'm right here.” he talked you through it all, he knew it helped. you liked the way you had all the power over him. nobody made stiles as crazy as you did—nobody made him as horny as you did. you knew it from the way the animalistic growls left his mouth, to the way his thrusts became as sloppy as his kisses—lips and tongue trailing from your mouth to your tits as he fueled his own need to cum into you.

“keep those legs up, j's like that,” he'd keep your legs spread even further apart, his veiny hands gripping your thighs, nails digging into the soft flesh as he pounded into you. you felt so good, velvety walls milking his cock greedily, sucking all the cum he had to offer you. “that's a good fucking girl.”

#teen wolf #tw #teen wolf smut #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski smut #stiles smut #stiles x reader smut #dylan o'brien smut

[ateotd-izzy]

right where you left me - stiles stilinski x fem!reader

“did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?”

summary: you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to go on a date, considering your last was when your then boyfriend broke up with you. so imagine the surprise when you see him at the restaurant too.

“time went on for everybody else, she won’t know it”

notes: i feel like i write too many cute and happy fics on here so here’s a change of pace, sadness and angst.

“she’s still 23 inside her fantasy, how it was supposed to be”

☾

you brushed the front of your dress as you exited your car. you could see the restaurant’s front door from the parking lot as you took deep breaths.

agreeing to meet up with a man you barely knew for a fancy dinner date was not something you had exactly expected when you moved to a new city, but it was happening.

a fresh start had been what you needed after everything that happened, but you still weren’t sure if a date with a work colleague was exactly the best idea.

you stepped into the restaurant, the building much warmer than the cold breeze that blew outdoors, and carefully fiddled with a few stray hairs until you were soon being escorted to the table where your date was sitting.

seeing you approach, he slowly stood up with a smile to greet you.

“hi,” you gave a small wave as a waiter pulled your chair out for you. you turned your head to look back at the waiter. “oh, thank you.”

you took your seat and your date, a young man named isaac, just wouldn’t stop smiling.

“what?” you asked, puzzled slightly as you scrunched your eyebrows.

“nothing. i’m just glad you’re here,” he looked down at the menu on the table in front of him, picking it up. “do you want to order?”

your eyes drifted around the restaurant as you answered. “yeah, sounds good.”

then your breath caught in your throat at the sight of a familiar face sitting at a table not too far away.

“stiles, this place is fancy,” you chuckled as the two of you were seated. “this is not our usual kind of restaurant.”

stiles didn’t say anything. he just adjusted his tie and put on a smile.

you and stiles had been together for five years, having began dating back when you were 18. and you were positive the two of you were meant to be.

you looked down at the menu, where some of the meals you could order were things you had never even heard of.

you then looked back up at your boyfriend, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of the empty wine glasses sitting on the table before you.

“you’re unusually quiet,” you spoke and he seemed to snap back to reality, meeting your eyes. “you okay?”

“yeah, i’m okay,” stiles then picked up his menu and started looking at the drinks.

soon the two of you had glasses of red wine in front of you and were waiting for your food to arrive.

stiles was still acting a little strange, giving mostly short, curt answers to your questions and seemingly zoning out every so often.

“so, what’s with the fancy restaurant, stilinski?” you asked curiously, a part of you hoping that he was going to propose to you that night.

stiles shrugged a little. “i just thought a change of pace would be nice.”

you reached out and put your hand on top of his. “well i think it’s great. we should do this more often.”

“uh, yeah,” stiles cleared his throat. “um… about that-”

before he could start talking, a waiter appeared beside your table.

“your meals.” two plates were placed down before you.

“so, what are you thinking about getting?” isaac asked you and you turned to look at him again, tearing your eyes away from the man just a few feet away.

“i’m not too sure,” you forced out a small, breathy laugh. “there’s a lot to chose from.”

“i’m thinking maybe steak,” isaac told you, still looking down at his menu, and your eyes flickered over to that other table again. “you can never go wrong with steak.”

“some of these pastas sound good,” you forced yourself to talk to isaac and not be distracted by him.

“oh, i love pasta,” isaac lowered his menu to look at you. “i can make great spaghetti and meatballs.”

you smiled and looked back to your menu when a waitress approached your table.

“hi,” she smiled brightly. “are the two of you ready to order anything? otherwise i can come back around.”

“oh, drinks would be great.” isaac nodded and turned his head to you. “uh, you good with red w-”

“i’ll just have water.” you cut in, before slinking back into your chair a little. “sorry. i don’t really drink wine.”

“oh, well, we have other drink options if you’d like,” the waitress spoke but you shook your head.

“no, thank you. water’s fine.”

“okay,” the waitress smiled after taking both your drink and food orders. “i’ll be back with your drinks in just a moment.”

“thank you,” isaac then looked back to you as the waitress headed in the direction of the kitchen. “oh, hey, did you hear about what happened with james yesterday?”

james was another coworker who isaac was friends with. you kept more to yourself and only really spoke with your best friend, kira.

“no, what happened?” you asked and isaac began to tell a story of some event the day before.

but you could keep your eyes on the man sitting in front of you, and instead kept looking at the man laughing with a red-haired woman just a few tables away.

looking so happy.

as you began to eat, stiles pushed his steak around with his fork.

“are you sure you’re okay, babe?” you asked as you finished your food and wiped your mouth. “you’ve barely said anything all night.”

stiles didn’t reply, or even meet your eyes. you had started to worry something was wrong.

“um, not quite,” stiles lowered his fork, sitting it next to his plate of mostly untouched food. “it’s just…”

you crossed one leg over the other as you brought your glass of wine to your lips. the dim lights reflected off of stiles’ still full glass of wine as he struggled to find the right words.

“stiles?” you spoke and he lifted his eyes to meet yours again.

“i don’t think…” stiles took a deep breath. “y/n, i think we need to break up.”

the entire moment seemed to stop as your wine glass slipped from your hand and dropped onto the table.

the glass shattered and red stained the white cloth on the table. the sudden loud noise drew a silence from the room, a number of heads turning to look.

but you paid no notice, your eyes trained on stiles, who was now struggling to keep eye contact with you.

“what?” you had to choke the word out and the silence that followed was almost deafening.

“we need to break up.” he repeated quietly and that’s when the tears began to brim in your eyes.

you didn’t get it. it had been five years. you loved him more than anything and everything had been seeming fine. what the hell changed?

“so, isaac, we barely know each other outside of work,” you started creating small talk after your food arrived. “what kind of stuff do you do for fun?”

“well, i like reading,” he told you. “books mostly, but i used to love reading, like, superhero comics when i was a kid, and i still do.”

“oh, i love comics too!” you smiled, but it quickly dropped when you heard his laugh from that table.

your head turned and you looked over again.

“something wrong?” isaac asked and you shook your head.

“no, no, don’t worry,” you waved it off and sipped your water. “so you like comics? what about movies?”

you did your best to keep the conversation going, and while some topics actually lasted a while, most conversations fizzled out after a short time.

it was like the two of you couldn’t really connect.

then you glanced back at stiles at his table.

what a coincidence that he would be here of all places. especially after you moved.

then you turned your focus to the woman with him. red-hair and a bright smile.

you could only really see the back of her head, just glimpses of her face when she would turn.

but as she pushed some of her hair back, it felt like a part of you died when something caught your eye.

your heart sunk in your chest at the sight of the shiny engagement ring on her finger.

it had only been two years since you and stiles broke up. two years. and yet she was the one with the ring.

you were with stiles for five whole years and as much as you wanted one, there was never a proposal.

“y/n, are you sure nothing’s bothering you?” isaac asked and that was the moment stiles noticed you.

he had been laughing at something his fiancé had said when his smile slowly dropped and his eyes connected with yours.

that solemn look on his face was enough to transport you back to that restaurant. but a part of you was always there.

“why?” your voice asked softly as the tears threatened to spill.

the wine had began to drip down from the table and onto the carpeted floor beside you.

stiles didn’t say a word, which just started to make you angry.

“stiles, why?” your voice was wavering and stiles squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. he held his hands together in front of his mouth before sighing.

“i met this girl,” he started and you could physically feel your heart break in your chest, snapping into two.

“a different girl,” that’s when you started to cry, but you did your best to keep your voice as steady as possible. “did you cheat on me?”

“no! no, i would never,” stiles’ eyes went wide before his face sank. “i just… whenever i talk to her, ever since we first met, i get this feeling. and it…”

his voice trailed off.

“go on,” you sniffled, feeling the mascara run down your face.

“it was something i hadn’t felt with you in a while.”

you stared at him. you just sat and stared.

“and it’s not that i don’t… look, i love you, y/n,” stiles reached out to grab your hand, and you were too frozen to move. “but i don’t think i’m in love with you anymore.”

those words sent your entire world crashing down. all those plans and dreams you had felt like they were just fading away, the product of your heart being destroyed by the only person you had ever trusted with it.

after almost a minute of dead silence between not only the two of you, but majority of the restaurant, you managed to find your voice again.

“what’s her name?” you asked shakily. you didn’t want to know how they met, or when. you didn’t want to know how long it had been with him thinking about doing this. you just wanted a name.

“uh, her name’s lydia,” stiles mumbled and you forced a smile, your lips trembling.

“pretty name,” you nodded and looked down at the wine-stained tablecloth.

not a word was shared between the two of you until stiles inhaled deeply, slowly standing up.

then he went up to one of the waiters, paid the bill, and left you in the restaurant. alone.

eventually the restaurant fell back into its original chatter, though there were some whispers of “what a sad sight.”

your hands found their way to your face, your elbows sitting on the table as you cried.

you sat at that table until the restaurant closed.

after dessert and then paying, you and isaac started leaving the restaurant.

“i had a nice time tonight,” you told him, holding your bag close to your body. “no matter how distracted i seemed.”

the two of you had stopped on the footpath outside the door, so it wasn’t hard to notice stiles and his fiancé as they left the restaurant too.

you froze again, staring at stiles and his unreadable expression on his face.

“um,” isaac looked from your face, then followed your gaze to see stiles. “i’ll call you tomorrow. goodnight, y/n.”

“bye, isaac.”

as isaac walked away you looked down at your shoes as stiles’ fiancé kissed him.

“hey, lyd, why don’t you go to the car,” he handed her the keys. “i’ll catch up in a minute.”

“no problem,” she smiled, kissing his cheek before walking away, her high heels clicking as she went.

there was a silence as you looked up to watch her.

“hey,” stiles spoke to you, taking a few steps so he was standing beside you. it had been so long since he was this close.

“hi,” you mumbled before sighing. “so that’s lydia.”

“yeah,” stiles nodded. “that’s her.”

“she’s pretty,” you said softly. “really pretty.”

“yeah, she is,” a faint smile ghosted on stiles’ lips and you looked down.

“are you in love with her?” you asked and there was a quiet moment on stiles’ end.

“yeah, i am,” he answered and it was like you were in that restaurant all over again, sitting beneath the dim lights and feeling your heart breaking in your chest.

all those emotions had come back a second time and realizing he would never be able to love you like that made you want to cry.

“congratulations, by the way,” you told him. “when’s the wedding?”

“a few months,” he replied, his hands slipping into the pockets of his pants.

there was a silence between the two of you for a moment.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” stiles spoke and you shrugged.

you were still in that restaurant, the moment constantly played over in your head. the exact moment he told you that after five years, he didn’t want to be with you anymore.

he wasn’t in love with you anymore.

a part of you wished he would take everything back. decide he didn’t actually want to be with lydia. that he would come back to you, and you would gladly fall in love with him all over again, because you never really fell out of love.

then, once again, stiles left you alone at a restaurant.

you watched as he walked down to the parking lot and climbed into the driver’s seat of a car, kissing lydia after he closed the door.

of course in your mind, that was you he was kissing. the two of you were still happily together, the way things were supposed to be.

in your fantasy, stiles had proposed to you that night at the restaurant and the two of you got married, and there was only happiness and love between the two of you.

but as you watched the car pull out of the parking lot, reality hit you in the face again and you were ripped from your delusions as the car disappeared around the corner.

so you took a deep breath and forced one foot in front of the other, finally walking to your car.

a/n: just wrote this whole thing in one sitting in 3 hours (it’s currently 3:38 am)

tags: @brvceyamada

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #dylan o’brien #dylan o’brien x reader #taylor swift #isaac lahey #evermore #stiles stilinski oneshot #angst #rwylm #right where you left me #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski fanfiction

[stilinskibaby]

PAIRING : stiles x reader

CONTENT : fluff

stiles falls asleep the best when his head on your chest. it's a well-known fact, that stiles has insomnia and trouble getting comfortable. but once his head is on your chest, your steady heartbeat becoming his favorite lullaby. it's moments before you hear his breathing settle, and it brings the tiniest smile to your face. you are the only sleeping medication that works for him.

on the worse nights where it takes him a bit longer to fall asleep, he fidgets a little more, half asleep murmurs. when he finally fully passes out, his fingers grasp the hem of your shirt, almost as if he's scared you'll disappear if he isn't actively looking at you.

#stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinski angst #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinski drabble #stiles stilinski blurb #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski fluff imagine #stiles stilinski ficlet #stiles stilinski imagine #scout.fic #stiles. ♡

[samdeancass]

The Alphas Best Friend

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x McCall!fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Stiles, Y/N, Scott

Description: Y/N is Scott's little sister and she has to find a way to tell him that she's in love with his best friend.

"You know, we do have to tell him. He's gonna find out, and I'd rather it be from us rather than him walking in on us like this."

You and Stiles were laying together on your bed, basking in the afterglow of what you could only describe as the best sex you had ever had. You trailed your fingers up and down his chest, chewing your lip anxiously.

"I know, I know. Just with his temper recently, he's very unpredictable." "Hey." Stiles hooked his fingers under your chin and brought your head up to face him. "Everything's going to be ok." He kissed your lips which seemed to release all of the anxiety you were just feeling.

__________________

You and Stiles were sitting on the sofa in your living room awaiting Scott's arrival from work. Your leg was bouncing anxiously, moving quicker and quicker as time ticked on. Stiles noticed and placed a hand on your knee, his fingers pressing patterns into your skin.

The sound of Scott's motorbike sounded outside and your breath hitched immediately. "It's going to be alright." Stiles pressed a kiss to your temple and removed his hand from your knee when Scott opened the front door.

He immediately sensed something was wrong with the aroma you were giving off. "Y/N, what's wrong? Has something happened?" You shook your head and motioned for him to come and sit with the two of you.

Scott raised his eyebrows questioningly but followed your motion. "What's going on?" You could tell that Scott was becoming increasingly impatient with the slight tone change of his voice. You swallowed slowly and took a deep breath. "Scott, there's something that I've been meaning to tell you for a while now. I just hadn't gathered up the courage to do so."

Scott leaned closer, his elbows resting on his knees. "And what does it have to do with Stiles?" He moved his attention over to his best friend who was trying his best to stay calm, but his elevated heart rate and increased breathing was giving him away.

You grabbed Stiles's hand and gave him a smile before turning back to Scott. "I'm in love with him, Scott. I have been for a while. We've been seeing each other for a couple of months, in secret, to see where our relationship would go. It turns out that...I've fallen for him. I love him, Scott."

Both Scott and Stiles raised their eyebrows. "You...you love me?" You grabbed his other hand and squeezed gently. "Yeah, I do. I didn't know when the right time was to tell you. I didn't know how you were going to react." Stiles's face lit up as he engulfed you in a hug. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say that. I love you to, Y/N. I have done for a really long time."

Scott shook his head. "What?! When did all this happen? How did I not see this happening right under my nose?" "We've been very careful Scott. Nobody knows, not even mom. You were the first person that we both wanted to tell. You mean so much to the both of us."

Scott rested his head in his hands before looking back up at the both of you with a wide grin on his face, chuckling. "You haven't been as careful as you think. I've known since the beginning, Y/N. I seen the sneaky glances the two of you had been giving each other. I've just been patiently waiting for the two of you to tell me."

You and Stiles stared at him with your mouths hanging open. "I have been so scared to tell you, Scott, and you're telling me that you knew this whole time?!" He sheepishly nodded his head before you walked over and slapped him on the back of the head.

"You could have at least gave me an indication that you knew so that I didn't have to crap my pants every time I seen you, you jerk." Stiles laughed at his best friends misfortune which caused you to let out a small giggle.

"Seriously though, I'm glad that it's you that Y/N fell in love with, Stiles. I couldn't think of anyone better to date my sister. But if you do anything, and I mean anything, I will hurt you." Scott flashed his red eyes at Stiles who shook his head at Scott. "You seriously don't need to do the big brother routine with me, I know what you'd do. Besides, I would never hurt Y/N, I love her too much."

You walked back over to Stiles and pecked him on the lips before taking your place beside him again. "Just please try and keep the PDA to a minimum, I really don't need to see my sister and my best friend getting it on every time I step foot inside the house."

Teen Wolf Tags:

@bxoken-heartss @hellomyweirdos @redcoatgirl

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski fluff #scott mccall #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fluff