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#Stiles Stilinski x-readers
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And They Were Twins
Full Masterlist | Teen Wolf Masterlist
Anonymous Request: Hi! Could you do an angsty, kinda Twin! Reader x brother best friend! Stiles? Where Scott’s not been a great brother and is never there for her, and Stiles notices and confronts him. (I swear I don’t want Scott to be evil; I just had a lightbulb moment today).
Summary: Being twins has its ups and downs. For you, it mainly consists of multiple 'downs'. You and Scott, your twin, were always close growing up, but since starting high school, he changed. He began not supporting you, not attending your track meets, and just overall not being there for you. Your best friend, Stiles, takes notice of it and doesn't hesitate to confront Scott, his other best friend.
Notes:
Y/N/N: Your Nick Name
You're a part of Beacon Hills' track team ;)
Warnings: slight language
Stiles Stilinski x-reader
(Third Person View)
Y/N stood in front of the mirror, putting her hair away from her face. She had exactly one hour until she had to leave for her track meet. Y/N overslept a bit but managed to wake up before her mom got mad at her. Y/N adjusted the strap of her tank top. Her mom lightly knocked on her door.
"Yeah?" Y/N grabbed the maroon headband from her vanity. Melissa, Y/N and Scott's mother, opened the door. "Hey, ready for the meet?" she asked. Y/N nodded and pulled out a few strands of hair, so it framed her face. Melissa leaned against the frame of the door with her arms crossed.
She smiled at her daughter, admiring as Y/N quickly applied some makeup, not that she needed it. Y/N looked up at her mother and noticed her expression. "What?" she said. Melissa sighed and stood up straight. "Scott isn't able to make it to your meet," she said. Y/N's shoulders dropped at the news.
That would've been the fourth meet that Scott has missed. It seemed as of lately that he was never at her events. Like, when she had a choir concert her freshmen year, Scott never showed up. Or, when she won an award at a school program, Scott wasn't there.
Now, it was their senior year, and Scott continued. Stiles was really the only one who noticed, but Y/N insisted that it was fine, stating that she was used to it at this point. It didn't matter that she and Scott were the same age, Y/N looked up to Scott in a way.
But now, she was beginning to question if she should be looking up to him. "Oh," was all Y/N had to say. "I'm sorry," her mother said. Y/N smiled softly and went back to getting herself ready. Melissa kissed her daughter on the forehead.
Y/N's phone vibrated from beside her. Stiles' silly face popped up on the screen, telling Y/N that he messaged her:
Billinski: Hey! Good luck today. Me and my dad are on our way.
Y/N: Great!
Billinski: Is Scott coming?
Y/N: No
Bilinski: Y/N/N, that's like the fifth time.
Y/N: Fourth time
Bilinski: Doesn't matter
Bilinski: We'll see you there tho!
She smiled at his messages and put her phone down, getting up from her vanity. Y/N grabbed her bag, dropping an extra pair of clothes and some other things she thought she might need. Her mother was waiting in the living room, playing some random game on her phone.
"Ready," Y/N said, slipping on her sneakers. Melissa grabbed her purse, and the two of them set off to the rival school. Y/N sat in the passenger seat, wishing that Scott was sitting in the back, but part of her knew that would never happen.
It didn't take long till they pulled into the parking lot. Y/N got out first, telling her mom that she'd see her later. Y/N joined her friends on the side where their coach waited patiently. Sally and Becca, Y/N's teammates, high-fived Y/N as they walked over.
Their coach gave them his normal pep talk, reminding them who was doing each event. Y/N was happy that she was doing hurdles and distance medley, two things she was good at. A few minutes passed and it was time for the meet to start.
Y/N stood in her spot. Her friends stood on either side of her. She spotted her mom, Stiles, Mr. Stilinski, and Lydia in the stands. Stiles gave Y/N a thumbs up while Lydia screamed Y/N's name. Y/N smiled and turned her head to the man on the side.
He raised his hand, and the race started, beginning with the distance medley. Y/N started off slow before gaining enough speed to run past her opponents. She breathed in and out, controlling her breathing when she began to feel her legs ache. The end of the medley came, landing her in tenth place.
She rested her hands on her hips, catching her breath. Her family and friends cheered her on from the stands. Sally, Becca, and Y/N exchanged a fist bump before turning their attention to the other events. Next came the hurdles, Y/N's second and last event of the meet.
Y/N took a quick sip of her water before joining the other girls. She let out a heavy sigh, positioning herself like she always did. Then the whistle blew, and everyone was off. She jumped over each hurdle, careful not to brush the top. Y/N thought she was careful enough, but her foot collided with the top of the hurdle.
She stumbled forward, her arms meeting the track before the hurdle fell on her leg. The cheering of the crowd paused, along with everyone who was running the event. Y/N winced, trying to get the hurdle off her leg. Her coach and the nurse ran over to where Y/N sat.
The nurse set a hand on Y/N's shoulder, looking at her ankle. "Okay, honey, let's get you up," the nurse said. Y/N winced when she was lifted from the ground with the help of the nurse and her coach. Melissa didn't hesitate to run down the bleachers with the others following.
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(Later At The Hospital. Third Person View)
Y/N laid on the hospital bed, her leg elevated. She hadn't realized how hard she hit her foot and leg on the hurdle, mainly focusing on how it felt to have everyone's eyes on her once she fell. Stiles and Lydia hadn't left Y/N's side since they arrived at the hospital.
Her mother was out speaking with the doctor. Thankfully, it didn't appear that Y/N had been severely injured, but it still landed her with a low chance of participating in another track meet or practice.
"How're you feeling?" Lydia asked.
Y/N sighed and shrugged her shoulders. Stiles walked into the room with some snacks in hand. "Okay, the cafeteria didn't have many options, but I got the ones that I think you'd like," he said.
Stiles dropped the snacks at the table and passed a bag to Y/N. She chuckled, opening the bag of chips. "Any news?" he asked. "Not yet. Mrs. McCall is out speaking with the doctor," Lydia answered. Stiles nodded and sat on the bed, making sure he didn't sit on Y/N's foot.
They sat in silence for a bit, listening to the TV in the background. Lydia had put on a terrible Soap Drama but insisted that it was worth the watch. "Have you heard from Scott?" Lydia asked. Y/N sighed again, shaking her head in response. Lydia nodded and didn't say anything, knowing that it wouldn't do well.
Of course, Scott hadn't responded to Y/N's calls or messages. Melissa was pissed, to say the least, even leaving her son different messages and phone calls. Y/N couldn't help but notice Stiles' demeanor change when she answered with just a nod.
He let out a long sigh and threw the half-eaten chip bag into the trash. Stiles grabbed his sweatshirt from the chair, taking out his keys and phone. "Stiles, where are you going?" Lydia asked him. "I'll be back," he said.
"Stiles," Y/N spoke. He looked over his shoulder at Y/N, his face softening at the sight of her expression. He walked over and lightly kissed her forehead. "I'll be right back. I just gotta deal with something real quick," he said. And then he left, confusing both Y/N and Lydia. Lydia shrugged her shoulders and leaned back in the chair.
Meanwhile, Stiles had surprisingly found Y/N's brother. He didn't know what he was going to say to Scott, but he knew what he was feeling, which was frustration. Stiles got out of his Jeep and walked over to the Lacrosse field.
There Scott stood, practicing with Isaac on the other side of the field. "Scott!" Stiles shouted. They stopped what they were doing to turn their attention to Stiles. Scott's brows furrowed with arms swaying from side to side, a hand still holding his Lacrosse Stick.
"I need to talk to you," Stiles said.
Scott looked at Isaac and then back to Stiles, whose brows were raised. "Can't it wait?" Scott remarked. "No," Stiles shook his head. Isaac left the two of them, making his way over to the locker room. It was silent for a second before Stiles broke that pause.
"What the hell is your problem?"
Scott turned to Stiles, his brows now furrowed. He dropped the Lacrosse stick to cross his arms. "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" Stiles continued. Scott never responded. His arms crossed and brows furrowed said it all.
"Why aren't you ever there for Y/N?" Stiles said, "She does everything for you, yet you do nothing. Like, you missed her track meet for the fourth time. And, now, she's in the hospital. And, you would be there if you had known that."
Scott's face changed suddenly. Since starting high school, as usual with most teenagers, Scott's life changed but more unique than others. With everything that happened to him, Scott never realized how much of an impact it had on the people around him. And now, his twin sister was in the hospital.
Instead of him being in his own world, he'd actually be there for Y/N. Stiles watched as Scott thought to himself. "You're not even gonna say anything? I guess everything that I've said hasn't even made its way into your thick skull," Stiles remarked. Stiles left Scott on the field alone. He got back into his Jeep and headed to the hospital.
________
(Later)
"Good news, Ms. McCall," Doctor Williams said, standing beside the bed. Melissa held her daughter's hand as they listened to the doctor's update. "There doesn't appear to be anything severe. I would keep an eye out on it, it'll swell, but that should go down in a couple weeks," he said, "In the meantime, try to keep less pressure on it."
Dr. Williams explained a bit, stating that there would be a few bruises. Y/N smiled and sighed in relief. It would be a bit before she can join her track friends. Melissa left the room to sign out and get any medication that Y/N might need.
Scott walked down the hallway in his own thoughts. He felt guilty for not knowing about his sister's position. Scott lightly knocked on the door after finding out what room Y/N was in. She turned away from the conversation with Lydia and Stiles.
Her twin brother cleared his throat, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. Stiles looked at Scott, a small smile appearing on his face when he knew that he had gotten through to Scott. He patted Scott on the shoulder as he left the room with Lydia behind him.
"Hey," Scott spoke softly. His sister sat up so Scott had more room to sit. He cleared his throat and broke the awkward pause. "I'm sorry, I don't know if it's too late," Scott said, "But I'm sorry for not being there."
He played with the frayed edge of his jacket. "I've been a complete asshole, and I know that," Scott said, "I guess... ever since I was bitten, everything around me changed. And that doesn't excuse what I've done to you and our friends, especially you."
Y/N softly smiled at her brother's apology. "And I promise that I'm going to be better, Y/N/N. I'm sorry, I really am," Scott finished. She set a hand on his shoulder.
Her action let Scott know that she accepted his apology. He was surprised that she even accepted it, but he was glad. She leaned over and hugged him. Scott sighed, hugging his sister tightly. "I love you, Y/N/N," Scott said. "Love you too," Y/N smiled.
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bethsvrse · 7 months
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STOP MAKING MY LIL AWKWARD NERDY BOYS BE CONFIDENT AND SO SURE OF THEMSELVES!!! I LIKE THEM BECAUSE THEY’RE NERDY NOT BECAUSE YOU FANFIC WRITERS MAKE THEM EGO MANIC ASSHOLES
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reidiot · 10 months
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don't fucking interrupt me when i'm reading my x reader fics it's rude
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murdrdocs · 7 months
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minors dni.
on nerdy flustered boys who would fuck if given the chance:
he starts with little glances. staring at you on opposite ends of the classroom, thanking past him for accidentally picking a seat that gave him a perfect view of you, the seating allowing him to slide his eyes over your profile as you write something down, he quickly realizing that he's paying for a college education and not to stare at his pretty classmate like a creep.
the glances turn to stares, giving him a way to start noticing the small things about you. the changes in your skin tone from your under eye to your cheek, the way your nose curves and bends, the way the fluorescent light reflects off your bare shoulders. and then his eyes almost fucking bulge out of his head when he sees two pebbles poking through the material of your thin white tee.
he's too busy trying not to ogle to notice the small smirk on your lips, or to hear the professor enthusiastically encouraging you all to partner up. next thing he knows, you're walking over to him and his mouth is dry and he's going to say something but you do first.
"you dropped your pencil." you bend down, grab it from the floor, and look up at him through your lashes as you do so, sliding the mechanical tool over to him with a gentle smirk on your lips. he manages to blurt out a thanks that's no where near as appreciative as it should have been due to the way his brain is short circuiting.
you saunter away to a girl seated next to him, and he can feel the boner forming in his jeans. because for just a second there, a pathetic second, he had front row seats to the shape of your tits and the way your nipples poke perfectly through your tee.
ever since that one day, it's like anytime he sees you he sees your nipples too.
at the coffee shop on campus when he is getting something to power him through another day of assignments, you're sitting at a table by the window in a loose tee that pushes against your tits when you stretch a wave to him, exposing the little mountain just enough to have him salivating.
at the gym when he is there to bring something to his roommate, you're on the treadmill, running with a sports bra that strains as it holds your tits in, not doing much to conceal your pestering nipples.
and somehow, some fucking way, when he's in your bed, staring down at your bare nipples for the second time (by some miracle), concentrating hard and following them as they move with the thrusts that he delivers to you.
he's lost in it, head spinning from the sensations of your cunt squeezing around him near-perfectly, eyes blurring from staring at your tits and your face and the way your stomach contracts as he angles his cock just a little differently and you gasp appreciatively.
you babble out an almost incoherent sentence, the distinguishable words being along the lines of insinuating that he had to have some prior experience to this, the way he fucks you a clear guess as to why you’re assuming that.
and he tries to respond, the reply easy and on the tip of his tongue, but the starts of his orgasms brews low in his stomach and he can only focus on getting both of you to that point.
his thrusts sharpen, and his hand goes down to play with your clit a little, thumb finding the bud after a moment or two of fumbling around.
when you cum, he’s right behind you, shooting warm spurts into the latex of the condom as drool falls from his parted lips falls onto your chest. he watches it glide down the expanse, gather around your nipple, and slide the rest of the way down and onto your bed sheets.
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murc0ck · 1 year
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i know he's fictional but i would love nothing but to devour that man
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xspeter · 1 month
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do yall ever think about the jaw dropping fics that are probably sitting collecting dust in someone’s drafts rn.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 7 months
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a little fashion show
kinktober, day four
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a/n: bro, the amount of time this idea has been in the notes app on my phone....
warnings: stiles stilinski x reader, smut, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, trying on lingerie, teasing, flashing, kissing
word count: 990
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
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“Who was at the door?” Stiles asked as your giddy form appeared in the doorway to your room once more. 
“The mailman,” you giggled, unable to contain your excitement, “and look!”
“You got a package!” not getting as revved up in the excitement as you were, he nonchalantly pointed out the parcel in your palms, “oh, cool!”
“Not just any package, only the one I’ve been waiting about a billion years to arrive,” you shut the door behind you, gazing down at the bundle in your hands with heart-shaped eyes, “you don’t mind if I just try this stuff on right now, do you? I just don’t know if I can wait till you leave.”
Discretely readjusting in his comfortable seat on your mattress, he waved a hand, “no, no, it’s fine.”
“Really? Great!” you squealed, digging your fingers into the opening of the package, “you can help me see if any of it doesn’t suit me or fit right, give you a little fashion show and everything.” 
“Alright, sure,” he agreed with a soft chuckle as you disappeared behind the wide bookcase that acted as a divider in the middle of your room.
After changing into the first item, you couldn’t stop yourself from springing back out, arms raised high above your head as you sang, “tada! What do you think?”
“Wow, oh, wow,” you watched Stiles eyes grow wide as they landed on the extremely short nightgown hanging around your form, “that’s-, that’s-…”
“It’s cute, isn’t it?” you turned your back to your stunned friend to glance at yourself in the mirror, “the floral pattern especially.” 
Gaze tracing your hands as they played with the tiny skirt, “y-yeah, it is,” you just barely managed to catch sight of his reflection discreetly move one of your pink pillows over his lap, “it’s good, you should definitely keep that one.”
You hadn’t thought that his blush could have gotten any worse, but evidently, as you soon pranced out clad in the next thing, it very much could. 
“What about this one?” you innocently observed the lingerie set in the long mirror, turning a bit to see how the high-waisted, black underwear hugged your bottom, “do you think it fits alright?” 
Looking like a broken PlayStation 2 game you’d have to pull out and blow on, Stiles simply hummed, “huh?”
“I just feel like if I jump around or bend over in this, the girls are just gonna spill out,” your nose crinkled as your fingertips ghosted over the cups of the matching bra. 
“I mean,” he blinked hazily, “you could test it out, if you want.”
Obliging twice, jumping gently in place, the squint to your eye didn’t fade away as not only you observed how your boobs jiggled in the cups, “hm, I don’t know, maybe one of the ones that has a different cut then this one…”
Peeping through the shy slivers of the bookcase, you bit down on your smirk as you watched the trouble you’d stirred up on the other side. As you slid off the black number, daringly arching your back and purposefully sticking your butt out far enough for him to catch a glimpse, you spotted how a string of your want clung to the panties as you dragged the down your legs. 
If this last one wasn’t gonna do the trick, make the guy you’d had a crush on forever fess up and make a move, then you didn’t know what would.
Pink, skimpy and sheer, your pebbly nipples weren’t the only thing on full display as the see-through thong also made your puffy pussylips no secret to anyone. 
Your pace as you returned to the mirror was purposefully slow, not looking to Stiles even once as you felt your desperation for him soak the pretty garments. 
“T-that-, yeah,” his fluttering eyes were trained on your bare bottom, “that’s nice.”
“Yeah?” you still didn’t dare to look at him, “you think so?”
“Mhm,” he nearly groaned. 
Grazing your touch ever so lightly over the elastic edges, you uttered, “you really think it’s pretty?”
“Y-yeah…”
“Stiles,” you sucked in a deep breath and gathered up the courage through the pumping adrenalin of being so exposed before your crush, “can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” flowed from his lips nearly instantly.
“Would you have sex with me?”
The room was dead silent a moment before Stiles choked, “what?”
“Would you fuck me?” you rephrased, still not looking back at him in the refection. 
“Would I-… I’m sorry, what?”
“Would you fuck me?” gnawing at your bottom lips, you finally turned to face him, “because I kinda really like you, like a lot,” your feet slowly carried you closer to where he sat, “and I don’t know, I’m sorry, am I being too forward? Is this too much? Do you not like me in that way? Because I totally get it if you do, I’m really sorry for everything. I thought you’d picked up on the hints I’ve been dropping for a while now and that you-”
“I do like you!” he rushed to cut off your concern, “I-I-, yes,” seizing your hand in his as he emphasized, “yes.” 
“Yes or yes?” you asked, eyes flickering to the pillow hiding his own excitement. 
“Yes,” he nodded, swiftly tugging you down in his lap before you could withdraw your proposal. 
An airy whimper escaped your lips as he then kissed you, your whole body feeling like puddy in his grasp. Drawing back a moment from his long-awaited pecks, you found yourself offering bashfully, “you know, I could also just give you a handjob or blow you or something if you’re not-”
Using his leverage, he suddenly flung you down against the mattress, effectively cutting your suggestion off as he scurried to hover above you, an earnest grin adorning his lips as he then exclaimed “oh my god, just shut up and let me screw my best friend.”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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mysticallystilinski · 5 months
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FEELING [ stiles x fem! reader ]
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desc. STILES CAN’T KEEP HIS HANDS OFF YOUR BODY
has : SMUT 17+, fingering, very clingy stiles, tit sucking, tit playing, sub!reader, heavy teasing, whimper!kink.
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“please stiles”, you moan out as he rubs against your body. it has been days since he has even came close to touching you. it was an understatement on how badly you needed him. his large hands run up and down your delicate body. he grinned in excitement at any little whimper that comes out of you.
“be patient”, he whispers in your ear. his heavy breath coming that close to you was enough to make you cum. you had no articles of clothing taken off you quite yet, but you knew soon enough he would have to cave in. you push off his torso and place your feet on the cold floor.
you lower your hands to the rim of your shirt, and proceed to pull it off in a quick flash. stiles sat on the bed, practically mind blown at this sudden boost of confidence. you walked closer to him as you heard his breathing pattern get quicker.
stiles had a certain feeling that you were putting on a false show. he tugged onto the waistband of your pants, and pulled you closer in between his legs. he looked up at you with those soft brown eyes. “why are you acting like this sweetheart”, he groaned out. your words got caught in the back of your throat as he slowly stood up and placed you to the side.
he looked down upon you in lust as you scanned his large figure. his brown eyes almost certainly turned to black as he grabbed your shoulders and sat you down upon the bed. he now stood above you while you were in the opposite position as before. he got onto his knees, and slowly ran his hands up and down your thighs.
“stiles please, don’t tease”, you practically whimpered. he interlocked his fingers into your waistband, and slid the soft flannel pants down your legs and to the side of the bed. he was now approached with your light red panties. he slowly moved his head toward your core, took his mouth and dug his teeth upon them.
he smirked as you looked down onto him in waiting. he lowered his head as the panties followed along with him intertwined in his teeth. he dug his fingers into your things as he made his away along your silky legs. he reached the bottom and discarded your sweet panties. stiles mind filled with all the things he wanted to do with you. he thought first about fingering you, then slowly moving onto other things.
he lifted his head up, and saw your facial expression. it was a mix of impression and excitement. your smile lit up the room as stiles started to giggle as he got closer to your heat. he used his large hands to spread your thighs apart, and lowered his head closer. his fingers untangled your thighs and moved to your throbbing pussy.
he slowly inserted one finger, then heard a gasp for air. you whimpered as his long finger headed deeper inside of you. he took it slightly out, and inserted one more finger. your head was thrown back in pleasure as he slowly pumped both fingers in and out. you felt him get closer to you as his fingers continued to glide in and out at the perfect speed.
your body filled with tingles as he increased his speed. one hand was gripping your boob, while the other was heading inside of you. you quickly moved and scrambled as his fingers hit just the right spot. he slowly used the hand on your boob to play with your nipple, slightly pinching it for a pleasurable feeling.
your body was feeling hot and heavy while stiles slowly talked you up to an orgasm. “you’re doing so good y/n”, he spoke. you gasped in shock and pleasure when he said those five words. “please cum for me”, he groaned out. you saw his eyes focused on your wet pussy when he looked up and smirked in a devilish way.
he held eye contact with you as he spoke softly, “baby you look so good taking my fingers.” your head filled with the things he was doing to you, and how good it felt. your core tightened as you felt the moment coming. he hit your g-spot one last time, and you collapsed. cum overflowed out of you as stiles latched his mouth onto your pussy.
he sucked up all he could, and gripped onto your thighs with both hands. you saw him look up at you with his lustful eyes. his tongue delved all around your area as he grinned. he lifted his head and moved his body so that he was on top of you. he lowered his head to your boob as slightly used his tongue to head around the area of your nipple.
stiles couldn’t help but groan as your body smelled sweet. his tongue clenched around your hard nipple, and you moaned out in peace. he slightly chuckled at your noise, but still was focused. he unlatched his mouth, and slightly placed his lips onto yours. he pulled back, “i want you to taste yourself.” your eyes widened but you complied as he stuck his tongue into your mouth. your eyes got heavier as he slid his hand up your bare body.
he made out with you to help you release some tension. you felt on cloud nine as your soft lips intertwined with yours. he removed his lips, and slowly smirked. “what are you up to stilinski?”, you groaned and rolled your eyes.
“round 2?”
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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
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| 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟐 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟑 | ⋆ | 𝐩𝐭. 𝟒 |
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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 .
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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.
3K notes · View notes
voltronisanobsession · 7 months
Text
A small teen wolf thought I had
I’m really missing season 1 Stiles, so let’s imagine him having a crush on reader😍
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We all know how Stiles had an enormous crush on Lydia, it was absolutely devastating tbh. Like this dude was lowkey devoted to her💀💀
So what if a new student (reader) moved into town and it’s love at first sight for him. He’d bump into you after rambling to Scott about whatever was on his mind and knocks your binder and books to the ground.
Helping you pick up your stuff, right when he’s giving you your notebook, he’d look up and just. Stare. Cuz ZOOWEEMAMA YOURE ABSOLUTELY STUNNING IN HIS EYES
You’re busy thanking him and apologizing for the collision, waiting for him to let go of the notebook, voice slowly fading out when you notice him just staring at you with his mouth slightly open.
“Thanks for helping me. Can I have my book?”
“Uh huh.”
“…”
“…”
“Stiles, you know you have to let go of the notebook.” Scott is trying his best not to slam his head in a locker when his friend still doesn’t let go LMAO
Your chuckle snaps him out of whatever daze he was in, causing him to blush and apologize awkwardly. You’d smile at him and in good nature, joke about it and walk away, leaving him in awe.
Most people would normally give him the stink eye, but seeing how you joked about it made his heart flutter a bit.
Everything is HISTORY after that. If you have any classes with Stiles, you already KNOW he’s gonna try and sit as close to you as possible. Teacher assigns partner or group projects? He’s springing out of his seat and going to you first. You both have the same lunch period? He’s inviting you to sit with him and his friends. You’re having trouble with a certain class? Man, he’s already offering to help you after school, you’ll nail that test with flying colors!
You just get him! You like his sarcasm and MIRACULOUSLY understand his random references from movies and video games! With all the time you guys spend together, his crush on you grows more and more.
You appreciate how Stiles is so interested in the things you like and dislike. You love how he asks why you enjoy a certain movie despite the terrible reviews it got. Why you dislike an artist he just began listening to. You both love the same things, but have different opinions on everything, every conversation flows so naturally with him that you can’t help but develop a crush on him too.
You’ve never met anyone as eccentric and energetic as him, he never fails to bring a smile to your face teehee
Stiles is the type to remember every little, seemingly insignificant, thing about his crush. When your birthday rolls around, this dude has so many gifts ready😭 a warm feeling fills you when you open one gift to see it’s an item you’ve mentioned in a passing convo yall had MONTHS ago
He’s so sweet and kind with you too like don’t get me started. Stiles just enjoys being around you and seeing you happy makes him happy. SEASON 1 STILES IS THE DEFINITION OF PUPPY LOVE LIKE UGGHH
Takes you out on late night drives, barges into your room through the window with any takeout food you’ve been craving. Hed even take you out on a mini ‘date’ to the local arcade!!! his dad sees how much you mean to his son and is super happy that Stiles is happy. Loves when you come over to study with him, he’s always telling you stories about when stiles was younger (he would definitely cover your ears with his hands and speak loudly over his dad LMAO)
I’m telling y’all, stiles having a crush on you is the cutest thing ever, especially if you reciprocate his feelings!!!When you guys get together, cuz it’s not a matter of if with his friends, you’re the ultimate duo.
He’d confess his feelings for you in the most cheesiest way ever, probably during or after a school dance cuz why not.
UGH I NEED TO WRITE MORE STILES STUFF I LIVE HIM SM‼️ HE WAS NEVER THE SAME AFTER SEASON 3😭😭😭
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messylustt · 1 year
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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
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"I want one." Lydia said, eyes focused behind you and Allison.
You both turn in your chairs to see the two new twins talking by a bookshelf. "Which one?" Allison asked, turning back. You kept your gaze on the twins, mainly for the fact that they were said—by your strange friend group—to be alphas.
Why they chose to go to school you could only guess. Most likely not to actually enjoy classes, but to keep an eye on said strange friend group.
"The straight one." You answered for Lydia. "I'd hope." You turn back in your chair to see Lydia narrowing her eyes.
You smile, just as Stiles slumps in the free chair beside you. Scott taking one beside Lydia. You glance back around at the twins, tilting your head in a slight observation.
Then you feel a poke on your arm. You turn your head to face Stiles, who is eyeing you with furrowed brows. "What are you looking at?"
"Our new classmates." You say, gazing back.
"You know they're alphas, right?" Stiles asks, making you nod. "Like, deadly...scary alphas?" He re-asks narrowing his eyes, as you chuckle.
"I heard they can shift into...like...one big werewolf." You say, in slight awe.
Stiles scoffs. "It's not that impressive."
"It kind of is." You mutter. Then you hear your seat scraping against the floor as Stiles jolts you around to face away from the twins.
"Do you know the distinction between friends and enemies?" Stiles asks, making you scoff. "Scott, did you know that y/n's rather stupid?" He asks Scott, making you elbow his arm.
"Yeah. She thinks the twins are cool." He continues, as you try to shut him up with your hand.
"I'm not the only one." You say defensively, before gesturing to Lydia, who is still eyeing up the straight twin.
"Well that's...Lydia." Stiles grabs your wrist, removing your hand from his mouth.
"Wow, your reasoning is impeccable, Stiles."
Stiles tilts his head at your sarcasm, the edges of his lips curving up a fraction. You get your wrist out of his grip before looking at Lydia—Allison and Scott caught up in conversation. "It's called having taste, Stiles."
Stiles raises his brows. "Taste?" He nearly exclaims. "Did you get hit in the head?"
"Alright...I'm gonna head to science." You say, ignoring stiles, standing, as the others spare you 'goodbyes'.
Stiles calls to your leaving form. "You have zero taste, y/n. Nada!"
You chuckle as you walk out into the hall. Stiles has been your best friend for almost forever. You enjoyed his jokes and even his incessant sarcasm. But you hated the fact that whenever he smiled butterflies would swarm your stomach. Whenever he would look at you a certain way your cheeks would pinken.
You had to brush it all way, knowing he wouldn't feel the same. And ruining such a long friendship would be horrible. Your mind is caught as you nearly collide with someone.
"Shit— sorry." You say looking up, holding a tighter grip on your notes.
One of the alpha twins stares back at you, a small smirk edging his lips. You quickly take in his appearance and the way he holds himself. "And I'd take it your the...straight one?"
He chuckles before beginning to nod. "Aiden." He introduces.
You nod. "Nice to meet you."
He raises his brows awaiting your own introduction. You go to speak, opening your mouth, but pause, seeming to remember exactly who Aiden is. "Will I be in danger if you know my name?" You whisper ask.
Aiden leans down to whisper back. "You might be safe."
"I might?" You ask, raising your brows.
Aiden smirks. "A pretty face usually makes it far."
Your mouth partly opens in slight shock. "Ha. So, you are a flirt." You straighten up. "Lydia's gonna love you."
"Mm, and what about you?" He asks, brushing a strand of hair away from your shoulder.
You chuckle. "Again—Lydia's gonna love you." You then step around him, walking into your class.
Stiles had seen one of the alpha twins follow you out. And of course, with a narrowed gaze—he followed him. He stopped upon seeing the twin speaking to you. Stiles' grip on the doorway was tight as he watched. A scowl formed as he saw the twin brush your hair over your shoulder, you chuckling about something.
What the hell were you talking about?—Stiles wondered, wishing he had scott's hearing. His stomach had tightened the moment he saw you with him. Hating seeing you smile at the enemy. But it wasn't just for the sake that it was the twin you were talking to. Stiles would feel like it no matter what dude it was. He wanted you to smile at him like that. Not someone else.
When you passed the twin for your class Stiles saw the way he eyed your form before leaving for his own class. Stiles scoffed to himself, glaring holes into the back of the alpha's head. No way was that beast getting you.
A few days had passed and through the halls you had caught yourself talking to the twins. It started off brief, just passing nods and a few hello's. But then you started picking up conversations where you'd left off the next time you'd pass eachother.
Stiles saw as you would wave at them or smile, them cracking a joke or a compliment. On the occasion that he would walk with you, Stiles' expression couldn't be more gloomy. You'd bump his shoulder making a comment on the "glare" he'd mastered, but Stiles' couldn't laugh, only hearing Aiden's compliments on your outfit or hair.
At first he didn't want to acknowledge that he was jealous. Because then he'd have to remember his large crush on you. He had had to push it away, knowing you wouldn't feel the same. You were freinds, and Stiles hid behind that concept, forcing himself to reason his glares to him just being a good friend, not wanting you to date someone like Aiden.
But once the days drew out, you and the twins seeming to grow closer, Stiles finally accepted his jealousy. You were his friend not there's. So, when he saw you smile and blush at a compliment Aiden gave you, he couldn't help himself but grab your wrist and pull you somewhere secluded.
You swiftly turned to face Stiles as you stared at him in confusion. You both are in the boys locker room, it being empty—the laccrosse team not practicing today. "What the hell-"
"What the hell is that?" Stiles cuts you off angrily. You stare at him, brows furrowing.
"What?"
"That." Stiles gestured to the now closed door. "Them. The twins."
"Aiden and Ethan?" You ask.
Stiles scoffs at the first name basis. "Yeah, Aiden and Ethan."
"What about them?" You slowly ask, never really having seen Stiles so mad.
Stiles clenches his jaw, all the past days annoyance bubbling up. "What about them? Really, y/n?"
Your still displaying confusion, as Stiles steps closer. "Why the fuck are you talking to them?"
"You're mad at me becasue I've said hi?"
"Oh, you've said more than hi." Stiles scoffs. "You keep talking with them in the halls as if your the closest of friends."
"Look Stiles, I know you don't like them. And I know they aren't particually saints. But if you spoke to them you'd realise how not in control they are. Deucalion—"
"I don't care for their sobstory, y/n. And you shouldn't either. You barely know them." Stiles has progressively gotten closer, before he's backing away, running his hands through his hair in annoyance. "God." He mutters.
"Stiles." You say, making him meet your gaze. "What is this?" Your tone has stayed calm, not wanting to start an arguement with Stiles of all people. "Are you okay?"
"No, y/n. I'm not." He finally says, fully stepping closer. You slightly stumble back at how swift his movement was. "Why do you want to talk to them?"
"Stiles, they...they're nice. They make me feel good, strangely enough."
"They make you feel good?" Stiles asks, eyeing you.
"They make me laugh. They are quite funny." You mutter, seeing how close Stiles is getting.
"Oh." Stiles chuckles, though the humour is lost. "Aren't they just amazing. Making you laugh and smile. You even blush around Aiden."
Your cheeks begin to redden on embarrassment as you cough. "No, I don't."
"Yeah, you do. And it's really annoying." Stiles says. "You know what else is annoying?" You meet his gaze, pressing your lips together. "The fact that you're blushing for him right now."
You scoff. "I'm not."
You can feel Stiles' breath hit your face. "I really hope that's true."
"Stiles, why are you so angry about this?"
And he cracks. "Because I don't want you to like some rabid wolf, I want you to like me!"
Stiles freezes, processing what he just revealed. Fuck. You stare at him, mouth beginning to open.
"What..." You drift off, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.
"I-" Stiles begins, stepping back, shocked and incredibly nervous at his own words. "I didn't-"
"You...like me?" You slowly ask.
Stiles goes to shake his head for fear of your rejection, but then he thinks of Aiden, and switches to a small nod.
Now your shocked, confirmation that his first confession wasn't a slip up. Silence has engulfed the locker room and Stiles can't bear it. "Say something...please."
"I didn't know...you liked me like that." You mutter, your life long crush's words having taken a toll on you.
He couldn't let you date Aiden and now you knew why. But your moments of silence were crushing his heart. He began to step farther away, thinking he just ruined your friendship, when you quickly grabbed his cheeks, and kissed him.
Stiles eyes widened, before they became hooded, the feel of your soft lips making his stomach do somersaults. But then your pulling away far too soon, eyes wide, your own shock at what you just did easily visible.
But Stiles doesn't waste another moment, smashing his lips back to yours. You slightly stumbled back at the force as Stiles began to lick and eat at your lips. He groaned into your mouth when he was able to finally push himself against you, your back hitting a locker.
"Oh, god." Stiles muttered against your lips. "This means you like me back...right?" He asks as he began to kiss your cheek and jaw, leading all the way to your neck, as his hand slipt around your waist.
"No, Stiles." You sarcastically say, making him chuckle against your skin. You grab his face, bringing him back to your face. "Kissing you doesn't mean I like you." You kiss him, your tongues eagerly meeting.
"I'm glad you've picked up my sacrasm." He says, continusously kissing you. "Otherwise that would hurt."
You smile into the kiss, your head buzzing with this reality. You had begun to unbutton his jeans, making his breath hitch, but he quickly grabs your hand, making you meet his gaze in question. "I didn't like hearing that the twins make you feel good." Stiles says, putting your hands over his shoulders, as he lead one of his hands back down.
He unbuttoned your jeans, slipping his hand inside making you grip his shirt. "I want to make you feel good." Stiles kisses you, as he reaches your panties, pushing them aside as he finds your wetness. You jolt when his fingers find your clit. "Much better than them." He whispered as he began to rub your pussy, circling around.
"Christ." You whispered into his neck, before your head hit back against the locker.
Stiles trailed one finger to your hole, pushing inside, making you whimper. "At first I was hurt, because you were my friend not theirs." Stiles said as he pushed another finger inside you making your hips stutter. "But now that doesn't matter, because you can be their freind all you like." Stiles littered kisses along you collerbone and neck. "As long as I can kiss and touch you like this." He grinned against your skin as you moaned, his pace quickening.
"Oh, god— please." You breathe, finding your hand in his hair. You kiss him, letting your lips bruise as he laps at your tongue. Stiles then kisses your cheeks. "You look so cute when you blush."
Your cheeks had heated due to the actions given by Stiles. "I thought you got annoyed when I b-blushed."
Stiles chuckles, curling his fingers inside you. You pant, sweat forming across your forehead. "That's only because you were blushing for Aiden. But now your blushing for me." Stiles smiles. “All for me."
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Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.
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bethsvrse · 5 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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sarcasm-and-stiles · 6 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:
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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."
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mxltifxnd0m · 7 months
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i just need a dorky nerdy man with brown hair and big brown eyes to be my boyfriend PLEASE
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