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strangerstilinski · 8 months

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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

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voltronisanobsession · 7 months

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A small teen wolf thought I had

I’m really missing season 1 Stiles, so let’s imagine him having a crush on reader😍

We all know how Stiles had an enormous crush on Lydia, it was absolutely devastating tbh. Like this dude was lowkey devoted to her💀💀

So what if a new student (reader) moved into town and it’s love at first sight for him. He’d bump into you after rambling to Scott about whatever was on his mind and knocks your binder and books to the ground.

Helping you pick up your stuff, right when he’s giving you your notebook, he’d look up and just. Stare. Cuz ZOOWEEMAMA YOURE ABSOLUTELY STUNNING IN HIS EYES

You’re busy thanking him and apologizing for the collision, waiting for him to let go of the notebook, voice slowly fading out when you notice him just staring at you with his mouth slightly open.

“Thanks for helping me. Can I have my book?”

“Uh huh.”

“…”

“Stiles, you know you have to let go of the notebook.” Scott is trying his best not to slam his head in a locker when his friend still doesn’t let go LMAO

Your chuckle snaps him out of whatever daze he was in, causing him to blush and apologize awkwardly. You’d smile at him and in good nature, joke about it and walk away, leaving him in awe.

Most people would normally give him the stink eye, but seeing how you joked about it made his heart flutter a bit.

Everything is HISTORY after that. If you have any classes with Stiles, you already KNOW he’s gonna try and sit as close to you as possible. Teacher assigns partner or group projects? He’s springing out of his seat and going to you first. You both have the same lunch period? He’s inviting you to sit with him and his friends. You’re having trouble with a certain class? Man, he’s already offering to help you after school, you’ll nail that test with flying colors!

You just get him! You like his sarcasm and MIRACULOUSLY understand his random references from movies and video games! With all the time you guys spend together, his crush on you grows more and more.

You appreciate how Stiles is so interested in the things you like and dislike. You love how he asks why you enjoy a certain movie despite the terrible reviews it got. Why you dislike an artist he just began listening to. You both love the same things, but have different opinions on everything, every conversation flows so naturally with him that you can’t help but develop a crush on him too.

You’ve never met anyone as eccentric and energetic as him, he never fails to bring a smile to your face teehee

Stiles is the type to remember every little, seemingly insignificant, thing about his crush. When your birthday rolls around, this dude has so many gifts ready😭 a warm feeling fills you when you open one gift to see it’s an item you’ve mentioned in a passing convo yall had MONTHS ago

He’s so sweet and kind with you too like don’t get me started. Stiles just enjoys being around you and seeing you happy makes him happy. SEASON 1 STILES IS THE DEFINITION OF PUPPY LOVE LIKE UGGHH

Takes you out on late night drives, barges into your room through the window with any takeout food you’ve been craving. Hed even take you out on a mini ‘date’ to the local arcade!!! his dad sees how much you mean to his son and is super happy that Stiles is happy. Loves when you come over to study with him, he’s always telling you stories about when stiles was younger (he would definitely cover your ears with his hands and speak loudly over his dad LMAO)

I’m telling y’all, stiles having a crush on you is the cutest thing ever, especially if you reciprocate his feelings!!!When you guys get together, cuz it’s not a matter of if with his friends, you’re the ultimate duo.

He’d confess his feelings for you in the most cheesiest way ever, probably during or after a school dance cuz why not.

UGH I NEED TO WRITE MORE STILES STUFF I LIVE HIM SM‼️ HE WAS NEVER THE SAME AFTER SEASON 3😭😭😭

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

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sarcasm-and-stiles · 5 months

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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

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months

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✎ masterlist ✎

this is a collection of all my one shots. more will be added as i continue to write. requests are closed!

[ key: ]

🌷 ≈ fluff

🍑 ≈ smut

🌪️ ≈ angst

💻 ≈ wip

•finnick odair•

— the five stages » 🌪️

— hungry eyes » 🍑

— love(rs) and war » 🍑

— what friends do » 🍑🌷

— lionfish, seahorses, and dolphins, oh my! » 🌷

— beautiful mess » 🌷🌪️

— two souls, one heart » 🌪️

— nsfw alphabet » 🍑

— flower therapy » 🌪️🌷

— bad idea, right? » 🍑🌪️

— red wine: part 1, part 2, part 3 »🌷🌪️

— forbidden fruit » 🍑

— a darling and a virgin » 🌪️🍑

•bellamy blake•

— close call » 🍑

— bioluminescence » 🌷

— pretty fixation, wicked temptation » 🍑

•gally (the maze runner)•

— relationship headcanons pt. two » 🌷

— relationship headcanons » 🌷🌪️🍑

• (more characters to be added)•

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xob1tchs · 7 months

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〈 freaks! — stiles stilinski

warnings; somnophilia (sex when one person is asleep), dubcon, handjob, minimal talking, slight dirty talk, squirting, unprotected sex, cream pie.

taglist; @normsdaughter-alt @f4yerite @skyesthebomb @love4ldr @slut4drudy @certified-stargirl @thievin-stealing @creepydollie

a/n; this was only edited once, so my apologies for the grammar and spelling errors bound to appear. hope y’all like 💞

You sigh heavily, dragging yourself up the stairs to your boyfriends dorm room, backpack adding a weight to your already aching shoulders. Your eyes are heavy, sore from hours spent staring at your computer screen.

You smile at the students that pass you, looking equally as drained, exam season might just be the death of you.

Twisting the knob for stiles door, you slip in quietly, not bothering with the lights, letting your backpack hit the ground with a thump. You can hear sheets rustling as you creep towards his bed, blinking to see sleepy stiles smile up at you, you yawn quietly.

“Hi baby, don’t wanna wake you”.

You shimmy out of your pants, kicking them towards the over spilling laundry basket in the corner, reaching under your shirt to unclasp your bra. Stiles scoots over opening the covers so you can slip in — enveloping you in his arms and duvet. It doesn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep.

—

You stir sometime after you fall asleep, blinking groggily, turning beneath the covers. Sweat has caused your shirt to cling to your bare skin, legs squishing together with an uncomfortable heat — pleasure stirring in the pit of your stomach. You frown, chewing your bottom lip, squinting in the darkness at stiles side profile. Moonlight cascades over his face, peeking through the blinds, just enough for you to see his peaceful face.

You fidget, fingers trailing down your shirt, toying with the hem. Skeptically you ponder your options, peeking at stiles under the covers, eyebrows knitting together as you trail down his toned torso, to the waistband of his sweats. What would he do?

You’re careful as you reach over to his body, fingertips gentle, skimming over his abdomen. You watch his face for any kind of reaction, but he seems completely knocked out. Your knuckles slip into sweatpants, gasping at the lack of boxers, fingers immediately greeted by the thick base of his cock. You swallow thicky, drool pooling at the back of your throat. Heat stirs in the pit of your stomach, and you whine to yourself gently.

Shifting to your knees, you use your free hand to tug the covers down his body, tugging his cock free from the constraints of his sweats. You watch as his face shifts, lips parting in a tired huff, eyes still closed nonetheless. You jerk up his length, fist tightening around the head, precum beading out, slipping past your knuckles. Glancing to his face one again, you lean forward, trying your best to keep silent as you let spit gather on your tongue, before you spit onto his tip, flattening your palm against the slit, coating him in your saliva before you tug it down the rest of his length. By the third tug, he is hard in your palm, veins prominent as you continue to jerk him off. Wetness continues to pool in your panties, breath becoming heavy in your chest. Fingers curling around the thick base, you squeeze tightly, milking him, licking your lips as you cum dribble down his length, running over your knuckles.

Stiles whines under his breath, hips jutting into the air, pressing the side of his face into his pillow. His torso caves in. You flinch, glancing at his face, relieved to see his expression go lax again, eyes still kept closed. You let go of him, licking the drying cum from the back of your hand, humming under your breath.

Carefully maneuvering your legs over his, you place your hand on the wall in front of you, using your free one to tug your panties to the side, hovering over the tip of his cock. Nerves gather in the pit of your stomach, chewing your lip, you watch his face as you lower yourself down. The tip protrudes your hole, burning as you sink down, stretching with reluctance due to the lack of prep. The first noise stiles makes is a low and deep whine, eyes clenching together tightly, face winding up in pleasure. But he doesn’t seem to wake. So you settle comfortably on his length, doing your best to keep quiet, evening your breath despite the feeling of his cock stretching you open.

Your pussy is so wet that when you rise up, and fall back down, it squelches, wetness coating the bare skin above his cock. Splashing out with every move you make, you start to lose your strength, already so close to cumming. You tug your shirt up your body, stuffing the fabric between your lips, muffling the grunts and groans from your lips. Blinking down at stiles face you can’t help but whine out even louder at seeing his peaceful face twitch in pleasure, soft pants escaping his lips, fingers twitching by your knees on either side of his hips.

Trailing your free hand down your bare torso, you spread your labia folds wide, pinching your clit between your fingers, crying out at the feeling, knees buckling as an unexpected orgasm washes over your body, making you stumble forward as wetness spurts out around the base of his cock, covering your thighs and his sweats in the milky liquid.

This wakes him, a groan ripping from the back of his throat, hands clasping your hips, squeezing the meaty flesh, forcing you to stay in place.

“fuck baby, thought i was dreaming” he groans into your hair, hips jutting up gently, making you cry out from overstimulation. he smooths his hands over the skin of your back, before he digs into your ass, kneading the soft skin, rocking you back and forth on his cock just enough to have you clenching around him.

you place your palms on his chest, lifting your body up just enough to be able to look in his eyes, lips forming a pout “wanted you bad, sorry baby” squeezing your eyes tight in pleasure you let your body slump back into his embrace.

He hums thoughtfully, thrusting up into your cunt again, rocking his bed beneath your bodies. You whine into his chest, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, spit staining his bare skin.

He continues his pace, ruthless, ignoring all the pleas you make, forcing you to babble nonsense into his chest, chuckling at your small voice inel between moans and crys of pleasure.

You can feel his cock pulsate, deep in your pussy, rocking against that spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You shift your face to look up at him, tears welling along your lashes “stiles baby, im gonna cum again” you warn, clenching when he coos down at you, fingers tangling in your hair, massaging your scalp in a gentle manner compared to the pace of his hips.

He sits your bodies up, cradling you in his hold, cock buried deeper between your walls, wetness gushing down his balls. You limply wrap your arms around his shoulders, knee’s aching when you start to meet his thrusts, bouncing up and down on cock roughly.

Your pussy suctions around him like a vice, almost too tight to take him even still, but it makes it easier to feel every ridge and vein, the way he twitches and jumps inside of you, not as obvious on the outside but equally as gone as you from how his cock feels. He cradles your jaw, forcing your head back, mouth open wide, louds whines and whimpers filling the space of his dorm room. “Want you to cum baby, cream all over my cock” his voice is gentle, way too sweet despite the crude words. It makes you cry out, rapidly nodding your head, slurring a string of ‘yes’ out before your body goes limp in his hold.

Your mind completely blanks, a ringing in your ears causes your head to pound, orgasm your knees give out, sending both of you back down to the mattress with a loud thud.

The only thing that brings you back is the grunts and moans stiles let out, warm seed spilling inside your pussy. You smack your lips, panting like a dog as you support yourself on shaky arms, blinking down at stiles as his eyes flutter open.

“Shut the fuck up, freaks!” Comes from the other side of his wall, along with a pounding that makes the pens and other stationary on his desk rattle.

#— kinktober ‘23 🎃#stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles smut #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf smut #fanfic smut #smut #kinktober

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dcangel · 3 months

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kinda hyper-fixated on riding stiles and calling him a big boy at the same time.

because this man boy would sit there underneath you, bottom teeth scraping at his upper lip as he tries to contain his pretty whimpers that kept escaping him. his fingers gripping, digging into the pudgy fluff of your hips and thighs. “y’so tight.”

your nails scratched at his v-line, deep red lines being left by pretty maroon nails—his favorite colors. “jus’so fucking big, sti…” you breathed out, “such a big boy, hmm?”

“mm-mhm.” he whines softly. stiles couldn’t believe how turned on he was by her dirty words, by how much he wanted to please her. who knew such an innocent, doe-eyed girl could spew such filthy words from such a pretty mouth.

you couldn’t help it, with the way he was stretching your walls and pressing those oh so good spots inside you that your own fingers couldn’t reach, how were you supposed to maintain that ingenuousness?

his nails burrowed into your soft skin, leaving little crescent shapes. his eyes were glued to where he disappeared inside you with each bounce and thrust. the wet squelching noises were squalid, and most times he couldn’t hear much else. only when his view was obstructed by your face did his pull his eyes up to meet yours. you flattened yourself against him; your stomach on his, and your breasts resting on his chest. to stiles, the feeling of skin-on-skin contact was worth more than words. it was the only thing that could bring him back to this planet after you overworked him.

you smiled when you saw those gorgeous brown eyes of his finally connecting with yours. “there we go.”

stiles was overwhelmed; you were on top of him, giving him so many sensations, so many things to touch or relish in. he couldn’t choose. you leaned down to darken the fading hickey right at the base of his neck, having given him one in that spot a few days ago. you simply didn’t see a point in letting it fade. he might as well have gotten it tattooed if he wasn’t so afraid of needles.

a deep-purple mark bloomed right over the spotty red one, and you made sure he would still be able to hide it with his flannels for a few days. your thumb wiped the spit from the bruised skin so you could get a full view of your work. stiles knew he’d be admiring the mark in every mirror he passed by, thankful that it was only one tug of a shirt collar away.

your hips rocked against his, not even pulling up anymore. you just loved the way his tip grazed your cervix—like scratching an itch only he could get—and how your swollen clit ground against his lower abdomen.

“you’re so perfect,” his words came from a place deep in his mind, so breathy, so pussydrunk, “i love you.”

knowing stiles didn’t even care for a response in return, not that he’d even be aware of one, you kissed his swollen lips (both his and your doing) to bring him back down to earth, even if only for a few seconds. you thumbed over the plush skin, purely admiring your boy, feeling both proud of and admirable of his prevailing state.

“you’re so good, sti.” the words weren’t really meant as a praise for him. rather, you said it because you genuinely meant it. “my big boy. fillin’ me up so well.”

you swore you saw something behind his eyes malfunction. his cock twitched inside you as he grasped at your hips, unintentionally taking control for just a few seconds so he could move you back and forth, his dick slapping against your spongy walls. your fingers pressed into his shoulders as you clung around him like a vice.

stiles was whimpering desperately and hastily, each one interrupting the next. it was so refreshing that stiles wasn’t afraid to let those sound freely flow from his pretty mouth or be loud for you. he didn’t care if his noises weren’t deep and guttural, although they certainly could be at times. and you favored either or depending on who was taking care of who; his whiny whimpers and soft moans coming out when he was desperate and being especially needy, or his low, throaty groans and praises when he needed to show you how much he loved you.

“i—shit,” he whimpered, high pitched and needy like you adored. “f-fuck,” stiles groaned deeply. it was so broken up, his voice so cracked, so desperate that it sounded like he was pleading. not pleading for a release, but pleading for forgiveness. you quickly felt his reason for pleading spill inside you: warm and thick.

“sorry, sorry, m’sorry.” stiles’ breaths were reduced ragged gasps as he clutched your waist, his arms finding their home around your body. “love you so much.”

you bit your lip at the gushing feeling flooding your already-filled hole. “hmnn, stiles.” you felt him bury his face in your neck, sweaty skin on sweaty skin as he murmured apologies and compliments of how good you feel.

it was moments like these that softened your heart even through such intimacy; moments where he came without warning or any signs, where his forehead nestled perfectly in the curve at the base of your neck, where he was reduced to muffled, strangled whines and sometimes apologies if he could muster them. and all because of a few words—of course with the help of being inside you, but you were sure you could probably just make him come with your words alone.

somewhere along the way of your cunt throbbing in time with his milked cock, and slowly lifting your hips only to drop them back down lazily, you found your own sweet release. stiles was slightly overworked, slightly overstimulated, but this was such a perfect sight in your eyes.

you took a peek down at where the two of you connected, and a thin, white-ish ring was formed at the base of his length. each time you lifted yourself up, strings of milky white liquid kept another physical attachment with him. the build up was definitely worth it in its own way, but the release was divine. as always, though. stiles, even when he may not be completely all there in the moment, always knew how to send you hurdling toward what you swear is the best orgasm each time. he’s definitely fought you before for who had the better orgasm, ending in round twos all the way to round fives. how you two managed to make it that far was a damn mystery as well as a miracle.

but right now, you were only focused on your boy—your pretty boy, and the alluring noises seeping from those pink, kiss-bitten lips. “’love you more, pretty boy.” you halfheartedly chaffed.

his response was the reason for the returning gibes: a small muffled whine of some muddled words. and stiles never failed to live up to any nicknames or unserious expectations you tauntingly gave him.

#heavily unedited #stiles stilinski #stiles’!world #teen wolf #dylan obrien #stiles stilinski teenwolf #stiles smut #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles x reader #teen wolf stiles #stilesstilinskismut

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messylustt · 11 months

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hii since u said you’d do something for stilinski can i request a fic where the alpha twins were just introduced and stiles and reader (best friends) like each other (everyone in the pack knows but them) and reader thinks stiles doesn’t like her so they start hanging out with the twins more and stiles gets jealous and it’s like a angry love confession and maybe smut?

++ thank u so much for taking the time to read & write this!! your writing is actually making me happy as sappy as that sounds💗💗

i need to watch teen wolf again — that shit was gooood, and thank you so much ur actually so sweet 🥹

౨ৎ ‧˚ 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬

jealous stiles; kissing; sorry no actual p in v — stiles getting jealous over the blooming friendship between you and the twins

"I want one." Lydia said, eyes focused behind you and Allison.

You both turn in your chairs to see the two new twins talking by a bookshelf. "Which one?" Allison asked, turning back. You kept your gaze on the twins, mainly for the fact that they were said—by your strange friend group—to be alphas.

Why they chose to go to school you could only guess. Most likely not to actually enjoy classes, but to keep an eye on said strange friend group.

"The straight one." You answered for Lydia. "I'd hope." You turn back in your chair to see Lydia narrowing her eyes.

You smile, just as Stiles slumps in the free chair beside you. Scott taking one beside Lydia. You glance back around at the twins, tilting your head in a slight observation.

Then you feel a poke on your arm. You turn your head to face Stiles, who is eyeing you with furrowed brows. "What are you looking at?"

"Our new classmates." You say, gazing back.

"You know they're alphas, right?" Stiles asks, making you nod. "Like, deadly...scary alphas?" He re-asks narrowing his eyes, as you chuckle.

"I heard they can shift into...like...one big werewolf." You say, in slight awe.

Stiles scoffs. "It's not that impressive."

"It kind of is." You mutter. Then you hear your seat scraping against the floor as Stiles jolts you around to face away from the twins.

"Do you know the distinction between friends and enemies?" Stiles asks, making you scoff. "Scott, did you know that y/n's rather stupid?" He asks Scott, making you elbow his arm.

"Yeah. She thinks the twins are cool." He continues, as you try to shut him up with your hand.

"I'm not the only one." You say defensively, before gesturing to Lydia, who is still eyeing up the straight twin.

"Well that's...Lydia." Stiles grabs your wrist, removing your hand from his mouth.

"Wow, your reasoning is impeccable, Stiles."

Stiles tilts his head at your sarcasm, the edges of his lips curving up a fraction. You get your wrist out of his grip before looking at Lydia—Allison and Scott caught up in conversation. "It's called having taste, Stiles."

Stiles raises his brows. "Taste?" He nearly exclaims. "Did you get hit in the head?"

"Alright...I'm gonna head to science." You say, ignoring stiles, standing, as the others spare you 'goodbyes'.

Stiles calls to your leaving form. "You have zero taste, y/n. Nada!"

You chuckle as you walk out into the hall. Stiles has been your best friend for almost forever. You enjoyed his jokes and even his incessant sarcasm. But you hated the fact that whenever he smiled butterflies would swarm your stomach. Whenever he would look at you a certain way your cheeks would pinken.

You had to brush it all way, knowing he wouldn't feel the same. And ruining such a long friendship would be horrible. Your mind is caught as you nearly collide with someone.

"Shit— sorry." You say looking up, holding a tighter grip on your notes.

One of the alpha twins stares back at you, a small smirk edging his lips. You quickly take in his appearance and the way he holds himself. "And I'd take it your the...straight one?"

He chuckles before beginning to nod. "Aiden." He introduces.

You nod. "Nice to meet you."

He raises his brows awaiting your own introduction. You go to speak, opening your mouth, but pause, seeming to remember exactly who Aiden is. "Will I be in danger if you know my name?" You whisper ask.

Aiden leans down to whisper back. "You might be safe."

"I might?" You ask, raising your brows.

Aiden smirks. "A pretty face usually makes it far."

Your mouth partly opens in slight shock. "Ha. So, you are a flirt." You straighten up. "Lydia's gonna love you."

"Mm, and what about you?" He asks, brushing a strand of hair away from your shoulder.

You chuckle. "Again—Lydia's gonna love you." You then step around him, walking into your class.

Stiles had seen one of the alpha twins follow you out. And of course, with a narrowed gaze—he followed him. He stopped upon seeing the twin speaking to you. Stiles' grip on the doorway was tight as he watched. A scowl formed as he saw the twin brush your hair over your shoulder, you chuckling about something.

What the hell were you talking about?—Stiles wondered, wishing he had scott's hearing. His stomach had tightened the moment he saw you with him. Hating seeing you smile at the enemy. But it wasn't just for the sake that it was the twin you were talking to. Stiles would feel like it no matter what dude it was. He wanted you to smile at him like that. Not someone else.

When you passed the twin for your class Stiles saw the way he eyed your form before leaving for his own class. Stiles scoffed to himself, glaring holes into the back of the alpha's head. No way was that beast getting you.

A few days had passed and through the halls you had caught yourself talking to the twins. It started off brief, just passing nods and a few hello's. But then you started picking up conversations where you'd left off the next time you'd pass eachother.

Stiles saw as you would wave at them or smile, them cracking a joke or a compliment. On the occasion that he would walk with you, Stiles' expression couldn't be more gloomy. You'd bump his shoulder making a comment on the "glare" he'd mastered, but Stiles' couldn't laugh, only hearing Aiden's compliments on your outfit or hair.

At first he didn't want to acknowledge that he was jealous. Because then he'd have to remember his large crush on you. He had had to push it away, knowing you wouldn't feel the same. You were freinds, and Stiles hid behind that concept, forcing himself to reason his glares to him just being a good friend, not wanting you to date someone like Aiden.

But once the days drew out, you and the twins seeming to grow closer, Stiles finally accepted his jealousy. You were his friend not there's. So, when he saw you smile and blush at a compliment Aiden gave you, he couldn't help himself but grab your wrist and pull you somewhere secluded.

You swiftly turned to face Stiles as you stared at him in confusion. You both are in the boys locker room, it being empty—the laccrosse team not practicing today. "What the hell-"

"What the hell is that?" Stiles cuts you off angrily. You stare at him, brows furrowing.

"What?"

"That." Stiles gestured to the now closed door. "Them. The twins."

"Aiden and Ethan?" You ask.

Stiles scoffs at the first name basis. "Yeah, Aiden and Ethan."

"What about them?" You slowly ask, never really having seen Stiles so mad.

Stiles clenches his jaw, all the past days annoyance bubbling up. "What about them? Really, y/n?"

Your still displaying confusion, as Stiles steps closer. "Why the fuck are you talking to them?"

"You're mad at me becasue I've said hi?"

"Oh, you've said more than hi." Stiles scoffs. "You keep talking with them in the halls as if your the closest of friends."

"Look Stiles, I know you don't like them. And I know they aren't particually saints. But if you spoke to them you'd realise how not in control they are. Deucalion—"

"I don't care for their sobstory, y/n. And you shouldn't either. You barely know them." Stiles has progressively gotten closer, before he's backing away, running his hands through his hair in annoyance. "God." He mutters.

"Stiles." You say, making him meet your gaze. "What is this?" Your tone has stayed calm, not wanting to start an arguement with Stiles of all people. "Are you okay?"

"No, y/n. I'm not." He finally says, fully stepping closer. You slightly stumble back at how swift his movement was. "Why do you want to talk to them?"

"Stiles, they...they're nice. They make me feel good, strangely enough."

"They make you feel good?" Stiles asks, eyeing you.

"They make me laugh. They are quite funny." You mutter, seeing how close Stiles is getting.

"Oh." Stiles chuckles, though the humour is lost. "Aren't they just amazing. Making you laugh and smile. You even blush around Aiden."

Your cheeks begin to redden on embarrassment as you cough. "No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do. And it's really annoying." Stiles says. "You know what else is annoying?" You meet his gaze, pressing your lips together. "The fact that you're blushing for him right now."

You scoff. "I'm not."

You can feel Stiles' breath hit your face. "I really hope that's true."

"Stiles, why are you so angry about this?"

And he cracks. "Because I don't want you to like some rabid wolf, I want you to like me!"

Stiles freezes, processing what he just revealed. Fuck. You stare at him, mouth beginning to open.

"What..." You drift off, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

"I-" Stiles begins, stepping back, shocked and incredibly nervous at his own words. "I didn't-"

"You...like me?" You slowly ask.

Stiles goes to shake his head for fear of your rejection, but then he thinks of Aiden, and switches to a small nod.

Now your shocked, confirmation that his first confession wasn't a slip up. Silence has engulfed the locker room and Stiles can't bear it. "Say something...please."

"I didn't know...you liked me like that." You mutter, your life long crush's words having taken a toll on you.

He couldn't let you date Aiden and now you knew why. But your moments of silence were crushing his heart. He began to step farther away, thinking he just ruined your friendship, when you quickly grabbed his cheeks, and kissed him.

Stiles eyes widened, before they became hooded, the feel of your soft lips making his stomach do somersaults. But then your pulling away far too soon, eyes wide, your own shock at what you just did easily visible.

But Stiles doesn't waste another moment, smashing his lips back to yours. You slightly stumbled back at the force as Stiles began to lick and eat at your lips. He groaned into your mouth when he was able to finally push himself against you, your back hitting a locker.

"Oh, god." Stiles muttered against your lips. "This means you like me back...right?" He asks as he began to kiss your cheek and jaw, leading all the way to your neck, as his hand slipt around your waist.

"No, Stiles." You sarcastically say, making him chuckle against your skin. You grab his face, bringing him back to your face. "Kissing you doesn't mean I like you." You kiss him, your tongues eagerly meeting.

"I'm glad you've picked up my sacrasm." He says, continusously kissing you. "Otherwise that would hurt."

You smile into the kiss, your head buzzing with this reality. You had begun to unbutton his jeans, making his breath hitch, but he quickly grabs your hand, making you meet his gaze in question. "I didn't like hearing that the twins make you feel good." Stiles says, putting your hands over his shoulders, as he lead one of his hands back down.

He unbuttoned your jeans, slipping his hand inside making you grip his shirt. "I want to make you feel good." Stiles kisses you, as he reaches your panties, pushing them aside as he finds your wetness. You jolt when his fingers find your clit. "Much better than them." He whispered as he began to rub your pussy, circling around.

"Christ." You whispered into his neck, before your head hit back against the locker.

Stiles trailed one finger to your hole, pushing inside, making you whimper. "At first I was hurt, because you were my friend not theirs." Stiles said as he pushed another finger inside you making your hips stutter. "But now that doesn't matter, because you can be their freind all you like." Stiles littered kisses along you collerbone and neck. "As long as I can kiss and touch you like this." He grinned against your skin as you moaned, his pace quickening.

"Oh, god— please." You breathe, finding your hand in his hair. You kiss him, letting your lips bruise as he laps at your tongue. Stiles then kisses your cheeks. "You look so cute when you blush."

Your cheeks had heated due to the actions given by Stiles. "I thought you got annoyed when I b-blushed."

Stiles chuckles, curling his fingers inside you. You pant, sweat forming across your forehead. "That's only because you were blushing for Aiden. But now your blushing for me." Stiles smiles. “All for me."

#teen wolf #teen wolf smut #teen wolf stiles stilinski #smut #stiles smut #angry confession #stiles x reader #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinski #jealous stiles #stiles x y/n #stiles x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski fan fiction

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voidpetrova · 8 months

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captive hearts — void!stiles x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, degradation, slut-shaming, breeding kink, obsession

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: it wasn't something your best friend would do, but it's what the nogitsune wanted for him. it was supposed to be against your will, but you couldn't stop yourself from falling for the familiar face that was holding you hostage

✧.*

the night hung heavy with a sense of unease, casting shadows that seemed to dance with malevolent intent. in the dimly lit hallway of eichen house, you stood, the distant echoes of your friends' voices fading into the background. anxiety clawed at your chest, a gnawing feeling that something was deeply wrong.

as you rounded a corner, a figure stepped out of the shadows, and your breath caught in your throat. your best friend stood before you, his eyes dark and haunted, his presence radiating with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“(y/n),” his voice was a low, almost chilling whisper, a stark contrast to the stiles you knew so well. “you shouldn't be here.”

despite the warning in his words, you felt a surge of concern for your friend, your best friend. the stiles you had grown up with, the one who had shared countless memories and inside jokes. but now, as you looked into those void-black eyes, you couldn't deny the presence of something darker and far more sinister.

“what's happened to you, sti?” you asked softly, your heart heavy with worry.

a mirthless smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his voice carrying an eerie edge. ”oh, i'm still me, sweetheart. just a version you've never seen before.”

before you could react, his hand had shot out, his fingers gripping your wrist in an iron hold. panic surged within you, your heart racing as you struggled against his grasp.

“let me go, sti, please,” you pleaded, your voice quivering with a mix of fear and determination. he didn't relent, his grip unyielding as he stared down at you, his expression an enigmatic mask. “you're not leaving, (y/n). you're staying with me.”

confusion mingled with your fear. “why? what is it you want?”

his gaze held yours, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “i want you all to myself. away from distractions, away from interference. just you and me.”

his words sent a chill down your spine, the implications sinking in like a weight in your chest. your friends, the pack—they were the distractions he spoke of. stiles wanted you isolated, wanted your undivided attention. but for what purpose?

“stiles, please,” you pleaded, the fear in your voice betraying your facade of strength. “this isn't you. you're my friend.”

for a moment, something flickered in his eyes, a brief hint of the stiles you knew. but then it was gone, replaced by the darkness that had consumed him.

he leaned in, his voice a low murmur against your ear. “they don't matter, (y/n). only you.”

his words were a whisper against your skin, a dangerous allure that tugged at the edges of your resolve. despite the fear, despite the unease, you found yourself drawn to him—compelled by his magnetism, his power, and the dangerous allure of the unknown.

the air grew heavy with tension as stiles maintained his unyielding grip on your wrist. his touch was both firm and possessive, a reflection of the darkness that had consumed him. there was a twisted energy about him, an intensity that sent shivers down your spine and yet stirred an unfamiliar curiosity within you.

“why are you doing this, stiles?” your voice wavered, your heart pounding against your chest.

his eyes bore into yours, void of the warmth and familiarity you once knew. “because, (y/n), there's something about you that i can't resist. something that draws me in, that makes me crave your presence.”

his words held a certain vulnerability, an admission that cut through the layers of manipulation. and despite the fear, despite the uncertainty, you couldn't help but sense a flicker of truth in his confession.

stiles' fingers released your wrist, only to replace their grip with cold metal cuffs that bound your wrists together. he led you down the dimly lit corridor, the echo of your footsteps resonating through the silence. chains clinked softly as they trailed behind you, a physical reminder of your captivity.

“you and i, (y/n),” stiles murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “we're bound by something deeper than friendship. i can feel it. and i need you, all of you, to myself.”

as you walked beside him, the weight of his words settled over you like a cloak. the darkness within him was palpable, and yet, there was a connection that defied reason—an inexplicable link between you that drew you closer, even in the face of danger.

he led you into a room, its walls adorned with eerie symbols that seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy. chains dangled from the ceiling, their presence a stark reminder of the power stiles now wielded.

“you won't leave here until you understand,” he said, his gaze intense and unyielding. “until you see the truth of what we could be.”

stiles' hands moved deftly, securing the chains around your wrists, leaving you bound and vulnerable. the metal cuffs bit into your skin, a physical manifestation of the control he exerted over you.

“you're hurting me, sti,” you whispered, your voice laced with a mixture of pain and desperation.

his eyes softened for a moment, a trace of remorse flickering within them. “i don't want to hurt you, (y/n). but you have to see. you have to feel what I feel.”

he drew closer, his presence consuming the small space between you. his fingers brushed against your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle, and yet, beneath it all, you sensed the unrelenting darkness that had taken hold of him.

“i've watched you, wanted you,” stiles confessed, his voice laced with raw emotion. “and now, i can't resist. you're mine, (y/n). even if you don't know it yet.”

his lips brushed against yours, a kiss that held a desperate longing, a dangerous craving. and as his mouth captured yours, you couldn't help but taste the dichotomy within him—the darkness and the yearning that intertwined in a twisted symphony of desire.

for the first time since your captivity began, your resistance wavered, the line between fear and fascination blurred. stiles' kiss held a power over you that defied reason, igniting a fire within your very core.

and as he pulled away, his eyes locked onto yours, a sense of inevitability settled over you—a realization that the boundaries between captor and captive were more fluid than you had ever imagined. in the midst of the shadows, a dangerous intimacy had formed, a connection that transcended the darkness and danced on the precipice of something deeper, something you couldn't yet comprehend.

the weight of your captivity pressed down on you, the chains and cuffs a tangible reminder of your vulnerability. stiles' eyes bore into yours, a mixture of intensity and anticipation that sent a shiver down your spine. his confession, his touch, his kiss—they were all a maelstrom of emotions that threatened to consume you.

tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, your voice shaking as you found the words. “stiles, please— i can't share my feelings like this, not when you're— not when you're like this.”

his fingers brushed away your tears, his touch gentle against your skin. “(y/n),” he murmured, his voice a mixture of longing and reassurance, “you don't have to say a word. i can see it in your eyes.”

you trembled beneath his gaze, your heart a chaotic mess of conflicting emotions. his words held a truth you couldn't deny—the feelings you had suppressed, the connection you had resisted, it was all there, laid bare in the depths of your gaze.

he leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead, a tender gesture that contrasted sharply with the darkness that enveloped him. “i've waited for this,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “waited for you to see what's between us.”

your heart pounded in your chest, a symphony of fear and desire that echoed in the silence between you. his lips descended upon yours once more, a kiss that was both a declaration and an invitation. and this time, as his mouth claimed yours, you didn't hold back.

your lips met his in a fervent dance, a mixture of desperation and surrender that left you breathless. the chains that bound you became an afterthought, the darkness that surrounded you fading into the background. there was only stiles—the stiles who had once been your best friend and confidant, and the stiles who now held you captive in a web of emotions too complex to untangle.

as his kiss deepened, a sense of inevitability settled over you—a recognition that your fate was now irrevocably intertwined with his. the tears you had shed, the resistance you had fought—it all seemed inconsequential in the face of the consuming desire that pulsed between you.

his hands explored your body with a reverence that belied the darkness that had taken hold of him. Your skin tingled beneath his touch, each caress sending waves of heat through your veins. the chains that had once symbolized captivity now seemed like a conduit of connection, linking you to him in a way that defied the confines of reason.

and as the minutes stretched into moments, and the boundaries between you blurred beyond recognition, you felt a strange sense of surrender. it wasn't just to him—it was to the complex emotions that had taken root within you, to the longing and the darkness that now coursed through your veins.

stiles' lips left a trail of kisses along your jaw, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure that melded seamlessly with the turmoil of emotions you felt. the fear, the desire, the confusion—they all melded together in a symphony of sensations that left you dizzy and disoriented.

you pulled him closer, your fingers threading through his hair as you captured his lips in a fervent kiss. in that moment, the darkness that surrounded you was eclipsed by the intensity of your connection—an intensity that defied reason, logic, and the very essence of who you thought you were.

as the darkness and the desire merged into a single entity, you surrendered yourself to the storm that raged within you, a storm that was as much a part of you as the beating of your heart.

amid the whirlwind of emotions, your senses seemed to blur, the line between reality and desire becoming increasingly indistinct. stiles' touch was intoxicating, his kisses igniting a fire that consumed you from the inside out. the chains that bound you, once symbols of captivity, now felt like a tether to something deeper, something that defied the darkness that surrounded you.

his fingers traced the contours of your face, his touch both tender and possessive. his lips brushed against yours in a series of fervent kisses, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The world around you faded into obscurity, leaving only you and stiles, entangled in a dance that seemed to transcend time and space.

his breath was warm against your skin as he pulled away slightly, his gaze locking onto yours with a mixture of intensity and vulnerability. “(y/n),” he whispered, his voice rough with longing.

tears welled up in your eyes, your heart a tumultuous sea of emotions. the words you spoke next were laden with a raw honesty that cut through the darkness like a beacon of light. “stiles, i love you. i don't care what you do to me. just—just do whatever you want. i'm yours.”

his eyes widened, surprise mingling with a rush of desire that seemed to consume him. a mixture of conflicting emotions played across his features—a sense of disbelief, a yearning for connection, and a darkness that still clung to him.

but then, as if a dam had broken, stiles' expression shifted. the vulnerability in his eyes intensified, the conflict giving way to a single-minded determination. he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that spoke of urgency and need.

the room seemed to spin around you as the kiss deepened, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you pulled him closer. the chains and cuffs that held you were no longer barriers—they were mere threads in a tapestry woven from the emotions that bound you to him.

stiles' hands roamed your body with a possessiveness that mirrored the intensity of his emotions. your skin burned under his touch, each caress igniting a fire that seemed to spread through your veins. and with every touch, every kiss, the divide between you grew smaller, until there was nothing left but the overwhelming sensation of being consumed by him.

as the minutes stretched into eternity, you felt a sense of liberation—a liberation from the constraints of reason, from the boundaries of morality. the darkness that had once defined him was now a mere shadow, eclipsed by the force of your shared desires.

stiles pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. “you have no idea how long i've waited to hear you say that.”

your chest heaved, your heart racing as you met his gaze with unwavering sincerity. “i meant every word, stiles. i don't care about the void. i love you, all of you.”

the vulnerability in his eyes deepened, a sense of awe mingling with his desire. he kissed you again, a kiss that was both a promise and a confession—a promise of something deeper, something that defied the darkness that had brought you to this point.

and as his lips claimed yours once more, you kissed him back with a fervor that mirrored his own. In the midst of the chaos, the desires, and the emotions that swirled around you, a new truth emerged—a truth that transcended captivity and defied reason.

“i've gotta be honest, doll,” he murmured into the kiss, stroking your cuffed wrists as he attached his lips to the crease of your jawline. “spent so many nights jerking off to the thought of you.” you pressed your thighs together, attempting to ease the tingling between your legs as a soft moan left your mouth.

“stiles, please,” you moaned, tugging at his dark locks as he sucked on the sweet spot of your neck, sucking until it was marked with purple. “need you inside me already.” he smirked at the way you begged for him, your words going straight to his dick as his jeans tightened.

he pulled away from your neck as he admired your desirable state, neck marked, hands cuffed and legs spread for him. your eyes fell to the bulge in his jeans, a small gasp passing your lips. the size was incredible, you couldn't possibly imagine what was waiting for you behind the fabric. “go on, princess,” he cooed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “take it out for me, baby. show me how much you want it.”

you did as you were told, from unbuttoning his jeans, to sliding them down his legs, to ignoring the way your pussy throbbed at the sight. his grey boxers had a stain pressed right where his tip was, tight and suffocating as his dick was outlined in the most perfect way. when you slid his boxers down in anticipation, your eyes widened, the smirk on his face only growing. “it's too big,” you gasped, and you weren't exaggerating. you knew it would tear your cunt apart with the combination of length and thickness. “gonna rip me apart.”

he could only shudder as you wrapped a hand around his shaft, your other hand pulling him in by his shirt. he was practically on top of you now, big dick right in your face as you clutched it. he exchanged your hand for his own, tilting his cock towards your mouth, shuddering as he tapped his slicked, angry tip against your bottom lip. you parted your lips, saliva trickling as you engulfed his tip, swirling your tongue around the slit as salty pre-cum filled your mouth and groans of pleasure filled your ears.

“so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he cooed, hand brushing your cheek as he admired you. you were so slutty for him, so willing and eager to please the man who was holding you hostage. “needy little doll, aren't you?” you nodded as he withdrew his cock from your mouth, smearing the arousal onto your lips before pulling away.

“please give me more, sti,” you moaned as you felt your clit throb, tugging on your restraints but failing to accomplish anything. “need all of you, please.”

he took pride in the way you begged him so nicely, in the way tears clouded your vision due to the lack of friction and mercy. he held devious laughter back as the tears spilled down your cheeks, unable to resist a few pumps of his dick at the sight of your tears. he leaned down, lips grazing your ear as his hands began to roam your body.

“little sluts like you get their pussies used, you know that? walking around in tops like this with your tits out, you like it when other guys stare at you?” you shook your head but it was no use, he had torn off your shirt, leaving you in a bra that would soon fall to the floor. he groaned, dick pressing into your skin as he groped your tits, eyes practically rolling back into his head as he sucked on the soft flesh, tongue swirling around your nipples before he engulfed them whole. “and these skirts that barely cover your ass, come on. you get a thrill knowing aiden's watching your cute little thighs? knowing isaac and theo are jacking off to your ass and tits at home, wishing they could have you the way i do?” the skirt you had on met the same fate as your top, leaving you in panties that made stiles go insane—see-through, pink, and for his eyes only. his hands pulled apart the flesh of your ass as you moaned, his lips trailing along your thighs, kisses planted on every inch of skin until you could feel his hot breath fanning your pussy.

“such a pretty little thing,” he cooed, pressing his nose into your barely-clothed clit. you whimpered, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as stiles inhaled, groaning at how he was met with a damp nose. “anybody else get you this wet, sunshine?” you shook your head eagerly, thighs trembling.

“no, just you. it's always been you.” your response pleased him enough for him to push your panties to the side, a sigh of relief leaving him as he stared at your pussy—at the way your arousal made it shine in the light.

“do i have to prep you, doll?” his question was almost mocking, dripping with insincerity as he used his thumb to toy with your clit, rubbing aggressive circles into it as your moisture piled up. you shook your head through your moans, back arching into his touch. you needed more of him.

“spread your legs wider,” he ordered. you obliged, spreading them as much as you could, your pussy on display for him. “good fucking girl.”

when you felt his tip against your entrance, you knew you were in for a treat. he didn't bother putting a condom on, knowing that even if you got pregnant, it could only make him a happier man.

“i'm gonna tell you one thing,” he murmured, his voice steady yet harsh. “i'm gonna breed your fucking pussy, mark my words.” you whined at his words, the idea of birthing his children going straight to your core.

“please, sti,” you begged him, hating the empty feeling that overwhelmed you. “cum inside me, get me pregnant please.”

when he thrusted into you, your vision went black for a good few seconds. he entered you with a loud groan, his eyes glinting with a burning desire that clouded his judgement. you moaned with him, your pussy clenching around his dick like no other. if only he had given you time to get used to the size of it. you pulled at your restraints, pleasure clashing with pain at the foreign size inside you. “s-stiles,” you begged him. “t-too big, please.” your pleads only came off as a joke to him, as he mocked your words.

“it sucks, doesn't it? when i have to put you in your place, split your pussy open?” he smirked at you from above, a dangerous spark in his eyes. “really should've thought about that before leaving the house like a cheap slut.”

tears stung in your eyes, but you couldn't ignore the way your wetness spread at his derogatory tone. it was impossible to ignore, with the way he was pounding into you at an impossible pace, hips slamming against your skin as he used you. he used you. he had turned you into his bitch in heat—screaming for more of his cock that made you delirious. he grabbed your jaw with one hand, breast with another as they began to bounce from his brutality. he watched the way tears spilled down your face from the pain, and he couldn't help the way they made his cock twitch. watching you cry like that had him cumming the first time in a matter of minutes. “keep crying—shit, fuck—cry for me, cry like a little bitch,” your first orgasm followed shortly after, cries of ecstasy passing your lips as you rode out your high. unfortunately, stiles wasn't planning on stopping.

the overstimulation was too much. stiles had himself on top of you, his legs spread farther apart in order to thrust into you at an animalistic pace, even faster and harder than the first time. you sobbed, sweaty hair sticking to your skin. he groped every part of your body, leaving bruises on your tits, waist and ass as he fucked you stupid. “come on, gorgeous, i know you've got another one for me,” he practically snarled, pounding into your sweet pussy as he thumbed your clit with a loose finger. you were so close, you could feel it. “it's too much, stiles, i can't,” you sobbed, but he wasn't having any of it.

“can you feel it? the way i'm fucking all this cum back into your little pussy?” the cum from his first orgasm had slipped out by a few drops, but he was right, it was all fucked back into you during your second round. “no one's gonna fucking touch you after i'm done with you. you're gonna be my little whore.”

“i'm all yours, sir,” you cries as his hands found its way around your throat. he gave your throat a squeeze, watching the way you moaned with your head back, boobs bouncing from the sheer force of his overpowering thrusts. “i'm your dirty whore and no one else's.”

when his thrusting reached a pace that seemed inhumane, you felt your second orgasm washing over you. you had to close your eyes to brace yourself for when it came, but when it did, it was twice as good as the first. you moaned when you squirted, juices coating his dick as it began to throb aggressively inside you, a string of curses leaving his mouth as hs held onto your tits, lips parting as he finally came a second time. he came loudly, thick, hot spurts of his cum filling you up twice in a row.

when he pulled out, he could only watch in satisfaction at the sight of your pussy overflowing with his cum.

you were worn out, an empty feeling striking you as you locked eyes with stiles. he couldn't help but smile at you, planting a kiss on your forehead.

in each other's arms, you found solace—a solace that resonated with the knowledge that, even in the heart of darkness, love could thrive.

#tw #teen wolf #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski angst #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski #void stiles #void stiles smut #void stiles x reader #smut #angst #x reader

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bethsvrse · 4 months

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me, a writer, at 3am: WHAT? I CANT FIND THE SPECIFIC FANFIC THAT I MADE UP IN MY MIND WITH A WHOLE PLOT AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS??? WHO DO THEY THINK THEY ARE??? DO THEY EXPECT ME TO WRITE THE STORY I THOUGHT UP OF???

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stilessflannel · 1 month

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"stiles," you purr, sighing with lust as your boyfriend's hands pull your hips harder towards his own, arching your back as his hand rises to gently push you down against the mattress. he hums, leaning down to kiss your lips hard, thrusting into you as your back rubs the sheets under you.

stiles leans back and his mouth opens to murmur something to you, but a ringing noise makes you jolt. both of you turn to look at your phone, which has lit up with the call from someone. stiles sighs and you groan, arm reaching out to grope around for the phone as your other hand threads into stiles' hair, tugging him as he slowly eases on his thrusts.

"oh, god," you say, half moaning as stiles' strokes slow, changing angles as he looks down at you with mischievous eyes. "it's scott." you add, tossing your phone to the edge of the bed.

stiles hums, pulling out of you and grabbing the phone. you whine, looking at him, "no, please keep going, i can call him back later." you beg, desperate to feel him again. stiles raises his brows, "you know he'll just keep calling."

you lean back, sighing because you know stiles is right. "fuck you stilinski. fine." and then you snatch the phone, pressing the answer button. "hey, wh-what's up?" you ask, breathing slightly heavily.

"hey, i was wondering what your plans are later. we need to get some supplies for that party lydia’s having." scott says with a hint of boredom, and you swallow. god, couldn't he have called any other time? at least this will be quick.

you jolt but keep quiet as you feel stiles' fingers gently run through your slick folds, thumb teasing your clit. you let out a short whine and gulp, "oh, uh, yeah i can-can hang out later, just not now-" you swallow. your face feels on fire, excited by the idea of possibly being caught.

"you okay, y/n?" scott asks genuinely, concern lacing his voice. you bite your lip so hard you think it may draw blood as you gasp, "yeah, just...not feeling good." you say, sharply inhaling as stiles quietly chuckles. you send him a glare.

"stiles and i are c-cleaning his room and there's... it's hard work." you mutter breathlessly as you go up on one elbow, eyeing stiles as he smirks, his hand trailing down to stroke his cock. you barely resist a moan as you watch him, biting your lip as you wish you could have him in your mouth.

"okay..." scott says absently, immediately dismissing your excuse as he launches into a conversation with you asking about what you're bringing to lydia's party. you're biting your lip as you fall back onto the mattress, heart racing as you think back to twenty seconds ago when stiles' cock was inside you. "-and, you know, i think stiles' bringing snacks and some games, but maybe if you still have your key you could sneak into the store and get us some-"

you accidentally cut off scott with a gasp followed by a moan as stiles suddenly pushes into you.

your eyes are wide as you stare at stiles, watching as he winks at you, finger going to his lips in a shush motion. you hate how immediate your shivers of lust flow through you, as stiles starts to slowly thrust into you again. you roll your eyes but your face heats up as scott's voice breaks the silence over the phone, "y/n, wh... -are you sure you're alright?"

you pull your hand off your mouth, "yes! yes, i just-" you cough to cover up a moan as stiles starts to thrust harder, "i stubbed my fucking toe." you mutter quietly, glaring up at stiles. he smirks darkly at your words, looking down at you as his large hand creeps up your body, splaying across your breasts and then to your neck, ghosting a squeeze before slipping a finger into your open, panting mouth.

his other hand finds purchase on the skin of your thighs and he winks at you, moving his hips and hitting the perfect spot inside you. the pleasure you feel has your eyes falling back, toes curling.

"oh. well make sure if it's bad that you ice it, don't want you missing any sport...," and then scott launches into a quick story and you hum along to make it seem like you're listening even though all you can think about is stiles and how his hand is tweaking your nipples, splaying across your sternum, as you suck on his fingers.

then he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and presses them to your clit, rubbing in a pattern that has you seeing stars.

"-wait, you said you're with stiles?" scott asks and you cough, throat rough after having stiles' hand on it, "yes, he's- he’s right here." you say breathlessly.

"can you let me ask him something?"

your eyes widen and you gasp a bit, making eye contact with stiles. "s-sure, here he is."

stiles' smirks as he grabs the phone from you, making you nervous, but you bite your lip as he mutters, "hey, scott."

it's quiet for a bit as scott's voice drawls along on the other line and suddenly stiles is pushing your legs up towards your shoulders and speeding up his thrusts, the deep angle almost making you scream in pleasure. his hand falls over your mouth, keeping you quiet as he leans over you, pumping into you and making tears of pleasure form in the corner of your eyes.

stiles mutters, “mhm? yeah, yeah.” to scott, but the sultry way he’s staring at you and the way your nails are raking down his back make you wonder if the words are also for you.

"yeah, she's helping me out, she's always so good like that." stiles says, voice shockingly even for the way that he's fucking you into your mattress. and yeah, that definitely is for you.

the desperation and pleasure creep up on you alarmingly quick and you can't help the whimpers that quietly escape you - you thank god for the loud fan in your room to cover your noises.

stiles hums to scott a few more times, then he slaps your thigh gently as you try to close your legs from the pleasure, knowing when you cum you won't be able to keep quiet. it makes you feel even closer, though. "yeah, scott, i can do that. now listen, i got something important to finish off here so i'm going to give you back to my girl."

you bite your lip, feeling warm as you squirm under his touch, hands shakily taking the phone back from him, then stiles is kneeling above you, fucking you down into the mattress and filling you up fully. "scott," you gasp, "i also have to go, i'll - i'll call you later?" you say, trying your hardest to hold off your orgasm as stiles leans down to kiss along your chest, leaving a purple mark to bloom in the same spot as he thrusts hard into you.

"sure, see you later" scott says as he hangs up.

and then the second your finger presses the off button you're a begging mess, eyes screwing shut as you reach up to grip stiles' neck. his hands push your knees up towards your head, hitting a spot that has you clenching around him, legs shaking as your chest stutters.

"stilinski, god, i'm going to kill you for that." you hiss, causing him to grin, "i fucking hate you, i hate you." you mutter, smacking his cheek lightly. the grin after you leave the smack makes you even closer to the edge, and his hands grip your tits as he leans towards your ear.

his strokes are hitting you deep and hotly as he chuckles, "you liked it. i saw it in your face. pathetic desperation. i can feel it." he whispers against your clammy skin, his fingers brushing against your slick heat as he mutters. your cheeks are hot in embarrassment, and you whimper in need.

you bite your lip hard, resisting a moan as a sharp cry falls from your lips, shaking as you beg, "stiles, just - please, let me cum. please."

"you're so pretty when you beg, look at you. talkin' on the phone to my best friend while i fuck you." he mutters, hand caressing your burning cheek as you whimper. "all mine, so eager and willing to do whatever i want."

you nod, "yes, i'm yours, just - please, please." you whimper. "please say i can cum."

he smiles as he kisses your nose, "would you do whatever i want?”

you stutter an exhale, “yes! fuck, stiles, yes, yes i would. i’m yours.”

he smiles, “cum, then." you do after the next three thrusts, shaking and gasping and calling stiles' name. the euphoria rushes through your body and makes your eyes roll back, chest rising and falling as stiles rides you through your high.

only a minute later, stiles pulls out of you, hand moving to pump himself. "my perfect girl." he mutters as you sit up slightly on shaky elbows, tongue out and mouth open as you pant, stiles' hand moving in quick movements as he chases his own high. then he's grabbing your neck and pulling you toward him, moans leaving his lips as he cums in spurts onto your open tongue and down your chin, a bit dripping onto your chest. his thumb caresses you, opening your mouth wider and smearing his cum on your lips, wiping it from your tits and slapping them lightly, pinching your nipples and making you grin up at him.

and his chest is heaving as he smiles down at you, shaking his head as you swallow his cum, "christ, you're perfect." you tug his arms so that he falls down onto you and you're both chuckling as you become a tangled mess of limbs and beating hearts and blushy cheeks, sticky bodies cuddling close.

"he's going to find out." you say after a few seconds. stiles hums, "what makes you say that, baby? it's not like you were all 'stiles, fuck me harder, please, yes!' while you were on the phone. that was only after." he teases, and you smack his chest lightly, "shut the fuck up, stiles. i hate you." you say through a laugh. he's laughing too as he pulls you even closer, kissing your hairline, "i love you so much, y/n." he says, smiling giddily.

you pull his chin to you, kissing him sweetly. "i love you too, stilinski. but scott's coming over later, he's going to see that we didn't clean the room."

stiles laughs, shrugging as he runs a hand through his ruffled hair, "let him guess. it's funnier that way." and then he's kissing you, rolling on top of you and tickling your sides as you scream and squeal.

repost off my old a03 account

#chiarawritesabout.stilesstilinski #holy crap where did this come from #forgot about writing this #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski x reader smut #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski #teen wolf stiles #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o'brien

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murdrdocs · 9 months

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eye ... just had a thought but abt stiles (cw unprotected piv + creampies)

stiles fucking you, hips pushing into yours with a certain desperation you only get to see in small doses. tonight, he's let completely go, doe eyes bigger and more watery than usual, his tongue looser than it's ever been before as he babbles praises, his grip tight and unyielding against your skin. it's cute, adorable even, to watch him drive himself insane as you purposefully squeeze around him, your nails dragging along his scalp, pushing the sweat-matted hair off of his forehead affectionately.

you know that the cause of his demise is technically your fault, as you were the one begging to forgo the use of a condom for the night. you needed stiles, you really did, but he'd made you cum twice, and a third was brewing, and at this point you were more entranced with the way he managed to hold off throughout your own orgasms. you were transfixed with his appearance, eagerly awaiting for his warning.

the words follow quicker than you'd expected, a pathetic whimper of, "i'm close," slipping past his swollen lips. you know he's telling you to unlink your ankles from his back. he's asking you to let him pull away from you, to prevent a potential accident that would cause more trouble than it's worth.

but you couldn't care less right now, reckless behavior be damned. your link at his back tightens, you pull him closer into you, your nails dig into his scalp as a warning when his eyes widen, almost comically.

"sweetheart, ah, lemme, i gotta–" you shake your head, pulling stiles down for a kiss. he hesitates, but he could never resist your lips, his own puckering to meet yours in a messy, sloppy kiss that is more clashing of teeth and tongue and swapping of saliva than anything else.

your lips separate from his with enough room to speak, enough room for his attentive ears—used to seeking out your moans and whimpers and whines—to hear you.

"come in me, stiles. please, i need it."

stiles would never deprive you of something you wanted, much less something you needed. so he nods, obedient in nature, and then his thrusts get sloppy and he stills with one hard thrust, warm spurts of cum painting your walls. you gasp, unused to the feeling, back arching as stiles' thumb circles your clit. your own orgasm (the third of the night) sinks into you, sliding down throughout your body as stiles is still twitching from his.

he doesn't pull out, not yet, instead burying his head in the crook of your neck, letting you comb through his hair as the both of you attempt to regain your breath. stiles miraculously recovers first, lips appreciatively kissing over your sweaty skin, hand rubbing along your side until it stops.

he stills once more, lifting himself up to look you in the eye. "you took your pill this morning, right?" you nod, still a little hazy from the feeling of stiles' cum leaking out around his cock still sheathed inside of you. "and uh ... how much is plan b again?"

you shrug. "around 50 i think?"

a beat. "shit."

#stilesworld!#deep sigh #need so so bad #but im not on bc anymore #so I dont rlly need #but I want #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski #Dylan o'brien x reader #Dylan o'brien x you #Dylan o'brien smut #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x you #teen wolf smut #teen wolf

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strangerstilinski · 6 months

Text

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. 🤍🥰🤍

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