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strangerstilinski · 9 months

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𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary; they say ‘showering together saves water’ or.. something like that.. right? otherwise known as, the one where sheer stupidity leads stiles into the shower with his very naked girlfriend. neither one of them is complaining about the turn of events.

warnings; no use of y/n, established relationship, explicit sexual content (vaginal fingering, handjobs, mentions of oral)

word count; +3k

a/n; i fear i'm going to be perpetually unhappy with this so i'm just biting the bullet and posting it and i'm camping so here it is an hour early!! — please be nice. if you’re interested in the original version cut from my Selenophiles series, you can find that here.

please think about leaving a comment/reblogging if you enjoy! i would appreciate either one to the actual ends of the earth.

Wrapped up in a softly hummed rendition of a song that had been rattling around in your brain all day, you didn’t even hear the bathroom door open or click shut again, not alerted to Stiles’ presence until his voice suddenly sounded just to the other side of the shower curtain.

“Hey.”

It was a simple greeting. Your boyfriend remaining entirely unaware as you flinched wildly in surprise and nearly slipped in the shower on the other side of the thin sheet of plastic that separated you.

“You mind if I brush my teeth real quick?” He asked.

Your heart was still pounding away in your chest from the scare but you forced out a breathy laugh as you reached for the shampoo.

“No, of course not,” You told him easily, “Why would I mind?”

Fingertips scrubbed at your scalp, the sounds of him already beginning to brush his teeth meeting your ears over the rush of the shower as he finally responded.

“I dunno,” He said, words garbled by the toothbrush and foam in his mouth, “You’re all.. naked, so-”

“Well that’s very noble of you,” You smiled softly to yourself, “But you really didn’t have to ask.”

“Noted.” He said through a mouthful of foam before spitting into the sink.

As you began to rinse suds from your hair, you heard the telltale clacking of his toothbrush against the side of the sink as he flicked beads of water away from the bristles. You were awaiting Stiles’ quick words of goodbye when there was a loud knock at the bathroom door.

“Stiles! You in the shower?” His father’s voice sounded loudly from the hallway.

Your heart thumped quick in your chest with sudden misplaced adrenaline and you found yourself poking your head outside of the shower curtain only to be greeted by Stiles already looking in your direction with wide brown eyes.

“Uh, yeah!” He called back weakly, gaze darting around the small room as if he might suddenly find a perfect place to hide.

“Does he not know I’m here?” You whispered sharply, brows pinched together in confusion.

“No.” Stiles hissed back, “I’m kind of a little bit grounded-”

“What?” You interrupted, still whispering despite your incredulity. “You’re grounded?”

“It’s an unspoken kind of thing but definitely implied and- And I didn’t think he’d be home ‘til late!” Stiles defended in an equally hushed whisper.

“Alright, well.. You mind if I just come in and grab the Asprin real quick?” Sheriff Stilinski's voice asked loudly.

Stiles’ eyes seemed to widen even further with a small squeak of distress, “Um-”

You threw the shower curtain open just enough to to fist your hand in the front of his shirt, yanking him forward until he stumbled and was forced to climb over the lip of the bathtub. The shower curtain was tugged back closed just as the doorknob turned and Stiles’ father cautiously peeked into the room through a cloud of steam.

Stiles was now the one standing directly under the spray of warm water, his pajamas quickly soaking through and plastering themselves to his body.

He was unable to help the way his eyes immediately dropped to the wet skin of your naked chest, but somehow, your instincts seemed to know exactly what was coming next because your hand found its way up to cover his mouth just before a soft groan could slip past his lips, the sound of it smothered by your palm.

“Sorry, my head’s killin’ me.” The Sheriff apologized as the medicine cabinet clicked open.

You uncovered Stiles’ mouth slowly and with caution, narrowing your eyes and tipping your head in a silent urge for him to formulate some sort of response. Brown eyes flicked between yours, his tongue poking out to wet his lips enticingly before he responded to his father.

“Nah, it’s cool, dad. Uh.. No biggie.”

Stiles’ eyes found their way to your naked chest yet again, bouncing back up to your face for a fraction of a second only for his gaze to fall back down to your breasts as if drawn there by an unstoppable force. His mind was decidedly blank, suddenly equipped with only enough brainpower to attempt to memorize the exact shade of your pert nipples in the soft light of the bathroom. A few beads of water from your hair curled their way around your collarbone, pooling in the small dip in your clavicle before welling over and cascading down to the swell of your breast.

You watched him swallow hard, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as the shower continued to spray against his fully-clothed back.

“Right. Well. G’night.” Sheriff Stilinski called out as the medicine cabinet slammed shut again.

The boy’s eyes snapped up to yours at the sharp sound, a pink flush creeping up his neck from either the warm steam of the shower, the sight of your naked body, or most likely some combination of the two.

“N-night, daddio-” Stiles replied in an admittedly high voice, shaking his head at his you in warning as he watched you pinch your lips between your teeth to hold back a laugh.

The bathroom door finally closed with a loud click and you let your head drop forward onto your boyfriend’s shoulder as you released a quiet giggle.

“Oh my god.” You breathed out.

“Sorry,” Stiles apologized, “For, uh, invading your shower.”

You lifted your head, “I quite literally pulled you in against your will.”

Stiles nodded, “Yeah. I, uh, I guess you did.”

You snorted softly in amusement and watched his eyes flick over your face in a slow trail. His gaze eventually found something of interest behind you and he seemed to hone in on it with a determined focus.

“What are you looking at?” You questioned quietly, craning your neck to examine the shower products on the shelf at your back before returning your gaze to the boy in front of you.

“I, uh.. Well. Literally, y’know.. Anything but your extremely naked body.” He choked out weakly.

A smile pulled at your lips and you inched forward to drag your hands lightly over the soaked-through cotton of his shirt, “There something wrong with my naked body, Stilinski?”

You’d said the words with a teasing lilt to your voice, but Stiles’ eyes seemed to snap back to your own sharply, “No! No, absolutely nothing-” He denied immediately.

“Okay, well, you are allowed to look, y’know,” You told him softly, like you were revealing a secret, “It isn’t like it’s anything you haven’t already seen-”

“Well, yeah but, you- You’re trying to shower and.. If I’m being totally honest, if I look now I’m gonna get painfully hard painfully fast ‘cause I’m already barely holding on here-”

At his words, you shuffled back just a fraction so you could peek down in between you, your eyes catching on the wet, tented fabric of his pajama bottoms. Your hands twitched with the desperate need to touch and you hesitated for only a second before taking ahold of the soaked material of his shirt beneath your fingers.

“Maybe you should shower, too,” You interrupted, licking your lips as you gazed back up at your boyfriend, “I mean, your dad already thinks you are, and you’re already all wet, so y’know.. We should probably get you naked-”

The moment the word left your mouth, you tightened your fingers around wet fabric and stammered quietly, ridiculously nervous considering that you were already naked. And wet.

“-And clean. Naked, to clean your- To wash your body, obviously. I mean, it only makes sense, right?” You suggested eagerly.

The fabric of his shirt inched up his torso, your deft hands revealing his hips and the thick trail of hair at his belly button, but that was where you stopped, waiting for him to give some sort of approval before lifting it any further.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s smart.” He agreed quickly, nodding for you to continue.

You stripped him of the wet article, dropping it at the opposite end of the tub with a quiet smack. When your eyes returned to his, Stiles barely held your gaze before he was cupping your face and dragging your mouth to his. He turned you back into the shower wall and you sighed in contentment as the spray of warm water finally cascaded over the side of your body once again, pleasant goosebumps erupting over your skin.

Stiles’ kisses were an enigma and they very nearly managed to catch you by surprise every time — the way he devoured your mouth with so much hunger yet was still somehow able to hold you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. His lips dragged over yours sickly sweet, thumb stroking over your cheek, fingertips digging into your scalp beneath wet hair.

You only managed to hold out for a few desperate brushes of his mouth before you were parting your lips beneath his in silent invitation. When his tongue teased against yours, you caught the taste of mint left behind from his toothpaste and you couldn’t hold back the groan that poured from your mouth into his. You suddenly found yourself craving the taste of it, prodding your own tongue between his lips on the next kiss to chase the lingering flavor in his mouth.

The wet drag of his pajama pants against your naked thighs beneath the stream of water was an immediate reminder that he was still wearing the wet article of clothing and you flicked at them idly, fingertips dipping beneath the drawstring waist. His stomach tensed beneath your hands and he pulled back from the kiss just enough to drop his forehead to yours, eyes raking over your face slowly as he attempted to catch his breath.

“What, um. What do you- I mean, do you, um..” His eyes pinched shut in frustration as his own inability to convey himself.

Your hand slid over his water-slick hip, arm circling around his waist until you could run your fingertips gently along his spine beneath the water, forcing a contented sigh from his kiss-swollen mouth at the contact.

You licked your lips in thought, “I could either jerk you off in here, or we could wait and I can blow you in your bedroom,” You offered quietly, “I’d blow you in here but I’m honestly not entirely sure how it would work with all the water in my face and-”

Stiles nearly whimpered, “You cannot say that shit and seriously expect me to not blow my load, like, immediately.”

Your mouth twisted up into a grin, “Sorry.”

You weren’t.

He dragged you just a bit closer beneath the spray, bare chests sliding against one another. A shaky exhale left his lips and cascaded across your damp cheek, his nose skating softly against clean skin as he craned down to push his face into your neck.

“No you’re not.” He shot back without hesitation.

You sighed softly, head tipping back of its own accord in an open invitation for his lips to find your skin. The soaked through material of his pajama bottoms did nothing to hide the warm, hard length of him pressing against your hip. You slipped your hand just a bit farther beneath the damp cotton until your fist found its home around him, beginning to move in firm jerks as a choked groan sounded in his throat.

“No, I’m not.” You agreed easily.

“Jesus Christ.”

“So?” You asked quietly, words spilling out toward the ceiling as your head rested against the shower wall.

“Huh?” Stiles articulated weakly, the sound swallowed up by the way his mouth was pressed into the skin beneath your jaw. A large hand slipped down the length of your spine, long fingers finding their way to your ass, merely resting there for a moment before a flick of your wrist seemed to spur him on, hand tightening over the soft flesh as he dragged you up against him just a bit harder.

Your ankle hooked around his knee easily, pulling yourself up a bit higher, warm, wet cotton still separating you as you continued to work his length beneath the material.

“Handjob in shower or blowjob in room.” You repeated the options stiffly, thoughts scattered from the feel of his fingertips digging into your backside.

“Shit.” He murmured against your neck, his hips jerking forward to meet your hand, making the movement of your wrist more difficult when it was pinned between your bodies. “I- Um.. I.. Shit-”

“It’s kinda looking like its gonna be handjob if you don’t decide otherwise pretty quick here-”

“But I-” A sharp sound was pulled from him when your hand slipped over the head of his cock, a delicious but quiet uh squeaking out onto the wet skin of your throat. “God, I really want your mouth but-” A quiet groan interrupts him but he carries on after only a brief pause, “If you stop I might die.”

He says the words so seriously that you can’t help the small laugh that pops out.

“Oh, so you want both? That’s what you’re telling me?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, fuck.. Please-”

“Seems a little-” Its your hushed words that are cut off this time, a small gasp of surprise falling from your lips when the hand on your ass creeps lower, hiking your leg up higher as two of his fingers find your wet entrance. “Little, um. A little greedy, don't you- Ah! Don’t you think?” Your teasing statement was tainted halfway through as he dipped his fingers inside, long and thick and pushing in to the third knuckle almost immediately.

He begins thrusting in time with the jerks of your hand, synchronized gasps and groans falling from your mouths for a minute before he thinks to respond.

“If you think I’m not gonna give as good as I get then-”

His words cut off with an unabashed moan against wet skin and you nosed at his jaw until he tipped his head up to meet your lips, your scolding shh silenced within the kiss.

“-Then you don’t think very highly of me, huh?” He continued as if he’d never paused at all, his words murmured between slick lips as his mouth slid against yours again and again. “It’d, uh- It’d be a fair trade-”

“Yeah?”

The whispered question was stolen from your mouth when he licked inside, hot and dirty as his nose pushed into your cheek.

“Yeah.”

His own utterance of the word was swallowed up by your gasp when his fingers crooked just so the next time he pushed them in deep. Your grip on him fell slack for only a moment before you recovered with newfound determination, matching his efforts as he sped up the rhythm of his hand.

Your thigh hitched up on his waist that much higher, all but consumed by the desperate hunger you felt to be closer. He returned the sentiment, pulling you in and crowding you back and devouring each of your sounds until it seemed as if he were everywhere all at once.

You traded kisses between stuttered breaths and heady gasps, bodies rolling into one another’s hands as you both chased after the tight pleasure coiling in your guts and building up, higher, stronger, closer–

Stiles came first, a soft whine against your tongue when your fist circled at the head of his cock, twisting and pulling his release from him in thick spurts beneath the wet cotton of his pajama bottoms. You worked him through it, taking control of the kiss as he went slack with his orgasm and finally pushing his pants to the floor of the bathtub with a wet thwack once his hips stopped twitching into your hand.

He fell back into the kiss urgently and you relinquished control without a fight, weak to do little more than throw an arm around his shoulders for support as he redoubled his efforts to make you come.

Thighs trembling, toes curling, your muscles tensed as you were worked closer and closer to your peak. His fingers hit a spot deep inside of you with every thrust and each time sparks danced up your spine with the impact, sharp noises of pleasure were dragged from your lips.

“Sti-” You whined softly, wet mouth falling against his cheek as you tried to alert him to your swiftly approaching release, “’m so close. Shit, I- ’m so close-”

“Shit,” He returned in an urgent whisper, “Shit, okay-”

He eased his hips back from your own, his free hand falling to the apex of your thighs. His lips covered yours again as he began swirling his fingertips around the swollen bud there and your whole body jolted at the sensation. Your mouth fell open with a soft cry as you came, the glide of his fingers both smoother and more sharp as he worked you through it.

As you came down you were panting, hot breaths mingling between your mouths. The steam of the shower felt almost cloying, both of you a little lightheaded from the heat and the exertion. You cracked your eyes open and found his gaze already on you, eyes hooded and heavy, the tip of his nose bumping your own.

“Holy shit.”

It came out as nothing more than a whisper against his lips, your chest heaving in time with his as you both fought to catch your breath. You loosened the tight grip your arm had taken up around his shoulders and neck, mouth slack as you tried to pull in enough oxygen to clear your head.

“That was-”

“Yeah.” He whispered in agreement, forehead falling against yours.

The tip of your thumb pressed into a dark freckle on his chest as your hand made its way down from his shoulder in a slow drag over slick skin. You swallowed around your dry mouth as your leg finally fell free from its place around him and provided instant relief to your muscles.

“You sure you can handle two more orgasms?” You questioned breathlessly, not entirely sure which response you wanted to hear as you swayed against him in the overpowering steam of the shower.

In lieu of an immediate response, his gaze fell downward and your own followed on instinct, catching sight of the long thickness of his cock, already fattening back up against his thigh with arousal.

Tongue feeling suddenly heavy, you were filled with the urge to fulfill your teasing promise, to work him toward his peak all over again with your mouth.

You voice was a breathless whisper when it finally sounded.

“Oh.”

#stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #stiles stilinski smut #stiles smut #teen wolf stiles #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski #*#dylan obrien fanfic #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o’brien fanfiction #dylan o’brien smut #dylan o’brien imagine #dylan o'brien imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction

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babyflorencee · 4 months

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My flannel

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

I awoke to an involuntary shiver coursing through my body. Instinctively, I stretched my arm out in search of my boyfriend, Stiles, but he wasn't there. Emitting a disheartened groan, I shifted my focus towards Stiles' side of the bed, only to discover the window agape, permitting the morning sun to cascade within, its brilliance so intense it could potentially blind those who dared to gaze in its direction. Flipping on my back, I rubbed away the remnants of sleep from my eyes before lifting the sheets away from my nearly exposed form. The moment that the fabric was off my body, the wintry breeze made its presence known, caressing my bare arms and legs. I got out of bed, stumbling over towards the window, almost falling down multiple times, but eventually managing to close and lock it.

I looked around the room, seeing my clothes scattered about. Sighing, I made my way to the open closet, rummaging through Stiles' collection of flannels and jackets until I found the one I wanted to wear. I pulled a multi-colored flannel out of his closet, putting it over my shoulders, and buttoning up all the buttons before descending out of his room, making my way down the stairs and into his kitchen.

Immediately upon entering the room, I saw Stiles sitting at the island table, scrolling through his phone. Sneaking up behind him, I wrapped my arms loosely around his neck, before placing multiple kisses from his jaw to his cheek "Morning," he mumbled, leaning back into my arms.

"Hey Sti," I murmured into his neck.

After a few minutes of staying in that position, I reluctantly pulled away, only to perch myself upon his lap moments later. Settling into a crisscrossed posture, I leaned back into his chest. "Am I just a chair to you?" He teased, a laugh accompanying his joke.

"Yes, and my own personal footrest," I retorted, offering a bratty smile before quickly turning away.

"Ouch, I feel so used." He faux- pouted, before dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if it was wounded.

Glancing back at him, I noticed his gaze fixed upon me. However, he wasn't looking at my face; he was looking at what I was wearing. He bit his lip before speaking up. "Is this mine?" He lightly pinched a portion of the fabric, tugging it lightly.

"No, it's mine," I asserted, looking down at my hands.

With an eyebrow raised and a smirk plastered on his face, only made my protectiveness over the flannel intensify. "My shirt," I declared, arms crossed defensively as I turned my head aside, a pout evident on my face, as I hoped Stiles wouldn't make me return his flannel.

Stiles lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, all while looking me dead in the eyes. "What does that say?" He asked, pointing to his name that was written on the the tag.

"Fine, it's yours," I said, sighing in defeat.

"I like how it looks on you," he pressed a light kiss to my temple, quietly laughing at the way my eyes lit up.

"Does that mean I can keep it?" I asked, offering the widest smile I could muster.

"Absolutely not. But you can wear it whenever you want." He said, his hands settling on my thighs, as he rubbed his hands up and down.

"I'll take it!" I said, grabbing his coffee and drinking out of it before making a face of disgust.

"Ew, what did you put in this?" I questioned, frowning as he laughed at me.

"I didn't put anything in it love, it's just coffee," he explained, pointing to the dark liquid in the cup.

"Well, you're weird for liking this; it's gross." I said, pouting even more as his laughter persisted.

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asterias-record-shop · 11 months

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ok but like maybe stiles stilinski with a spoiled rich reader maybe who has vibes like lydia?¿? maybe w number 21 ?¿? possibly…

—𓆩[warmth]𓆪—

omg, this is literally the longest fic I've ever written for this blog, I really hope you guys enjoy it!

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Stiles Stilinski x Fem! Rich! Vampire! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, maybe slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 6.0K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - No one expected you and Stiles to start dating. Come on, a rich vampire posing as a high school student who could’ve been a real life Cullen? Fuck no. But, it happened, and Stiles fucking loves you - and your fangs - probably more than he should, and he wants to try something.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - foul language and smut || I was forced to watch twilight and this is what happened I love it || kinda sub stiles || mentions of mates || scent glands || marking || mentions of Wattpad & fanfic || i got WAY too into this shit man- || stiles did research || biting kink || blood kink || multiple rounds || oral || face sitting || cum eating || creampie || unprotected sex ||

“So, tell me again how this happened?” Coach was baffled as you sat in his class, your hand in Stiles’ as the topic interrupted your lesson in your economics class. “Like, the dating part. How the heck did you end up with her, Stilinski?!”

You cleared your throat, raising your hand. “I uhm… we’ve been dating for a while, Coach.”

“Yeah, I know! I just didn’t believe it until I saw Stilinski trying to kiss you when he thought I wasn’t looking! Come on kid, you’re that desperate?!” Bobby groaned, pressing his face into his hands. “Why is it always the nice ones who get with the… the Stiles?”

You laughed. “I don’t know who you’ve talked to, Coach, but I am not nice.”

“Yeah, she’s not!” Scott said, twirling his pencil before you glared at him. “Nice. Sh-She’s not nice.”

“Oh, shut up, McCall! You’re just mad because Stiles likes hanging out more with me than you,” you stuck your tongue out at him, letting out a soft humph as you cross your legs under the desk. “And he’s mad I took his boyfriend too.”

“Y/N, we weren’t-”

“Hush darling, Scott and I are talking,” you say, smiling widely at him as you kiss his nose. “Thank you baby.”

“This isn’t happening,” Coach groaned into his hand before the bell rings, a giggle falling from your lips. “Right? This isn’t happening?”

“Oh it’s happening!” You laughed, standing as Stiles cleared his throat.

“Y/N, baby, I have practice today.” He said, Scott coming behind him and sticking his tongue out at you. “I’m sorry.”

You pouted, pretending to think. “Why don’t you just skip? I’ll buy the school new lacrosse gear.”

“I’m right here!” Coach yelled, but quickly got up. “I would be interested in new lacrosse gear though.”

“Yeah, see? Come on, let’s skip.”

“No! We have the quarter-finals this week, he can’t miss. Y/N, he can’t miss,” Scott turned to you, hoping that he could persuade you with those stupid puppy dog eyes. “Come on.”

“Oh I forgot about that,” coach mumbles, glaring at the wall. “Okay, he’s gotta come, but the school would like new lacrosse gear.”

“Here, how about this,” you say, shaking your head as you fix your skirt. “Stiles goes to practice and I’m on the field.”

Coach scoffed. “On the field? Doing what?”

“I don’t know,” you hummed, leaning on the table as you pulled Stiles closer. He followed obediently as you licked your teeth, humming. “Play lacrosse?”

Scott scoffed. “Play lacrosse?”

You tilted your head, crossing your legs. “What, like it’s hard?”

Coach starts to laugh, nodding. “Okay! Okay, you’ll be on the field! Stiles, lend your girlfriend some clothes, we’re getting new lacrosse gear!”

Coach walked out as you giggle, Stiles staring at your smile and the sharpened canines that he fucking loved to stare at.

Scott starts to walk out, pausing to look back at the two of you. “Stiles, you coming?”

“I-In a minute, Scott,” he smiled back at his friend before looking at you who positioned yourself on the desk with crossed legs. “I’ll be there.”

He hummed as he walked out, Stiles letting his hands settle on your hips as you parted your legs so he could slot himself between them. “Hey, my darling.”

You giggled, pushing back his hair. “Hey, honey,” you whisper back, smiling as you nuzzle your nose against his with a soft sigh. “Do you… do you think I’m too mean to Scott?”

“You’re not mean,” he says, laughing. “You and him have like… an ancestral rivalry. He’ll get over it.”

You giggle, pulling him closer for another firm kiss, groaning as your tongue pushed into his mouth, your hand pulling his head back by tugging on his hair. He groaned loudly as your tongue circled around his, humming as your head pounded. You could hear his heart beating incredibly fast, his arteries pulsating, and by hell’s name, you could smell the horniness drifting off of his body, along with the smell of dog because of Scott.

Even newly turned, you could still control yourself with Stiles as of yet. You both had had sex a few times, more than a few actually, but that was before you were actually aware of his… human-ness. You were born a vampire, now in your final years of highschool as you aged regularly and your family was kept alive by blood bags supplied by the numerous hospitals your family owned.

Your instincts never got in the way because of how well fed you were, but this was different. You could feel everything; his heart, his arteries, his veins, fuck even his cock pulsating. Your heightened senses caught everything, groaning as you attempted to pull him closer, another loud groan falling from his lips as you pulled him closer, a choke filling your ears making you pull away, your fangs grazing his bottom lip making him hiss.

A shiver runs down your back as he lets out a soft groan, laughing slightly as he licks his lip. “You alright, Y/N?”

You hummed, not really paying attention to his words as you stared at his lip dripping with that delicious coppery liquid, leaning forward to lick against his lip and a loud groan left his mouth as you sucked on his lip, desperate for that taste. It was different though, his blood tasted sweet, unlike blood bags, animals, and even humans for fucks sake.

“Y-Y/N,” he whispered, groaning. “I-It kind of hurts.”

You gasped as you pulled away, staring at his slightly swollen bottom lip as he smiled down at you, pushing back your hair. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, humming so that you would look at him. “Hey, Y/N, don’t worry about it,” he says, his smile growing as he leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to your lips. “I’ll be a blood bank for you any day.”

You inhale sharply, shaking your head. “Don’t say that. Y-You don’t know how dangerous that is.”

“Why?” He asked, tilting his head. “I know you can control yourself.”

You scoffed, pushing him back. “Did you not see what I just did? If you wouldn’t have said something, I would’ve kept going.”

“But I did say something,” he says, quickly stepping forward and holding your hips again. “Just because I said it hurt-ed, doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, shaking your head. “Hurt-ed?”

He hummed, nodding. “Hurted. It’s the past tense.”

You shook your head, laughing. “No it’s not, the past tense is still hurt.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not anymore, it’s hurted now.”

You giggle, shaking your head before sighing. “I’m gonna go write that check, okay? I… I think I’m gonna go home, too.”

His brows ruffled, quickly blocking you from jumping down. “Why?”

“Because it’s not safe for me to be around so many people,” you responded, humming as you quickly went around him. “Come to my house after school? We need to talk.”

He quickly caught your hand, one you could’ve easily avoided, but he shook his head. “Y-You’re not breaking up with me, right?”

You giggled, smiling sadly with a shake of your head. “Just meet me at my house, alright?”

He cleared his throat but nodded, inhaling deeply before slowly pulling you in for a soft kiss. “I love you, Y/N, I love you so much.”

You hummed softly, nodding. “I love you too, my darling.”

He swallowed as you walked out, pulling out your checkbook and writing a number with a lot of zeros on the main line before crossing out the rest, signing and doing the rest of the things before passing by Coach and pressing it to his chest. “Let me know if you need more, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“What? Where are you going?” He yelled out as you waved back at him.

“Have something to do at home! I’ll see you!” You yelled, looking back with a smile. “Good luck, Coach!”

He mumbled something as you walked out, quickly making your way back home and parking outside your secluded mansion that truly could’ve been out of the movie. It didn’t take you long to get up to your room, quickly getting caught by Kirshe, one of the vampire elders that your parents were friends with. “Y/N, are you alright?”

Of course she knew what you were feeling. “O-Oh, I’m fine,” you responded, humming with a slight smile. “Just some… relationship problems.”

She paused, her golden eyes trailing down your body before flashing a bright red. “He doesn’t know he’s your mate, does he?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Not only that, Kirshe.”

She hummed, taking a deep inhale. “And he’s human too, isn’t he?”

You inhaled deeply, nodding. “Taken in by a pack of dogs.”

Kirshe laughed. “Oh, it’s always the best of us, my love. He’s… why are there problems now?”

“I tasted his blood,” you giggled, shaking your head with a scoff. “It’s just like the stories describe it. Addicting, sweet… perfect.”

“Do you want to turn him?” She asked, making you shrug. “Does he want to be turned?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

Back at the school, Stiles was going crazy. “Do you think she’s going to break up with me?”

“She would never,” Scott responded, scoffing. “She’s too in love with you.”

“You’re just mad because you thought she was hot,” Stiles grinned, putting on a shirt that hadn’t been near Scott. He knew how much you hated the smell of wolves. “Right?”

“Oh shut up,” Scott scoffed, shaking his head. “Where did she go anyways?”

“Home.” Stiles said, humming. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I can smell how horny you are.”

Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I uhm… we were making out earlier. She was… sucking on my lip after it started bleeding.”

Scott froze, quickly looking at him. “What?”

“You’re overreacting so much,” Stiles said, shrugging. “We’ve had sex before.”

“But she’s never sucked your blood, right?”

Stiles could feel his cheeks heat up, about to say something before Scott groaned loudly. “Dude, the smell got stronger! Holy shit, does that turn you on?!”

“Fuck yeah it does!” Stiles said, thankful the two of them were the only ones in the locker room. “Dude, when we like, get heated, she runs her fangs along my neck, holy shit, it’s so hot.”

“And you want her to suck your blood?” Scott paused, staring at him. “You want her to turn you?”

Stiles paused, staring down at his bag before inhaling deeply. Is this what Bella Swan was feeling when she was with Edward Cullen?

“I want to be with her for the rest of my life,” Stiles said, grabbing his bag before smiling at Scott. “If it’s this one or one hundred, I don’t care. I want her, forever.”

Scott inhaled deeply before sighing, shaking his head with a slight smile. “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?”

Stiles smiled, all sarcasm gone. “Yeah, I am.”

“What about your dad?” Scott asked the inevitable question, inhaling deeply. “I-I’m not trying to like… ruin anything, but if you get turned… what are you going to do to him?”

Stiles smiled, shrugging. “He’ll be my dad. Always. What he wants to do is up to him.”

After that, he waved goodbye and quickly drove to your house, way over the speed limit to get there faster. As soon as he pulled up, he smiled when he saw you on your balcony, staring at him like you knew he was coming - which you probably did.

He quickly got out, waving up at you as you giggled. Normally your family was there to greet him, but they were obviously gone as he walked inside and up to your room.

He doesn’t knock, mainly because there was no point, slowly walking behind you as you stood on your balcony. His arms go to wrap around your waist, leaning onto your body as he pressed soft kisses to your neck, your hand going to hold his jaw as you exhaled deeply. “How was practice?”

“Good,” he mumbled, shrugging. “Missed you. I changed into something that I hope doesn’t smell like Scott.”

You giggle, nodding. “And it doesn’t, thank you.”

“So uhm…” he whispered, humming against your neck as you moved your hands to settle over his. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Well, you read up on vampires when you met me, right?” You hummed, smiling as he nodded into your neck. “Did you get to the part about mates?”

He paused, his hands tightening around your waist. Did you find your mate? He had read up about them, but never really retained the information because no one ever spoke of them, but obviously for pure blooded vampires like your family, of course they existed.

“I-I… I did,” he whispers, pulling you closer. “There wasn’t much about how it works for bloodborne vampires.”

“Would you like for me to tell you how it works?” You asked, smiling up at him.

“Wh-Why would you tell me if I’m not your mate?” Stiles whispered, slight annoyance in his voice before you started laughing. “What?”

“Stiles, you’re so lucky you’re hot,” you turned in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re my mate.”

He paused, staring down at you blankly. He was your mate? Why?

When you started laughing, he realized he must’ve said it out loud, your hands cupping his face. “Why not? I think it’s fitting, don’t you?”

“Th-That’s not what I meant,” he didn’t mean to stutter, it always happened around you though. He groaned loudly as your fingers dragged down his neck, sparks following your touch as you smiled up at him. “I meant like… how are we mates?”

You paused, pursing your lips. “Kirshe said mates are decided by the gods where in past lives their love ‘changed the fate of the world’,” you mumbled, inhaling deeply as you stroked his hair. “Do you think we could’ve changed the fate of the world, Stiles? In our past lives?”

He inhaled deeply, nodding as he leaned his forehead down against yours. “I know we could’ve,” he whispered back, pressing his lips softly against yours. “Because I love you more than anything else in the world.”

You smiled widely, letting out a loud laugh as he picked you up and turned the both of you around to go back into your bedroom. He slowly laid you in the bed, crawling over your body and laying down next to you to pull you into his chest. You sighed heavily against his chest, stroking his shirt before pulling it down slightly to see his exposed skin. You could hear his heart beating, his valves and ventricles pumping, his lungs inhaling and exhaling, his diaphragm expanding and deflating - fuck, at this point, you hated that he was human at this point.

“Y/N?”

You hummed, looking up at him as your fingers trail over his exposed collarbone. “Yes, my love?”

“I-I was wondering… if you could uhm… turn me. Like, actually turn me… into a vampire like you,” Stiles said as you started to sit up, staring at your face pinched up as you inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“Stiles, why do you want to be a vampire?” You asked, staring at him like he was crazy. “You would watch the people you love die over and over again. You have the choice to grow old and-”

“And what about you?” He whispered, taking your hand in his. Besides his dad and Scott, you were the only person alive right now that he cared for, especially after he was impacted by Void. You stuck with him even after that, how could he let you go now? “You would watch me grow old and wait for me to be born again? Huh?”

“That’s not what I meant, Stiles-”

“I want to be with you,” the brunette filled in, staring at you with those whiskey colored eyes. “For the rest of my life, and I want it to be where you don’t have to watch me die in the end. I want to spend… the rest of my life young with you.”

“But in turning you, I’d watch you die too,” you whispered, inhaling deeply as your eyes watered. You had thought about this before, turning him, but then you thought about what he would go through. You were the first bloodborne vampire ever recorded, because of course the Court took note of every vampire turned, but you were the first one born of two Elders who didn’t think they could get pregnant. You knew what vampires went through when they’re turned, but what would Stiles go through? Turned by a bloodborne who was their mate? “You have to die to become a vampire, Stiles. I would have to kill you.”

“Then kill me.” He sat up, holding your face in his hands as he smiled at you. “I’ve died before, what's another time?”

“Not like this, Stiles,” you whisper, gasping as he wiped the tears from falling down your cheeks, leaning forward to kiss against your skin. “The turning of a mate isn’t something that just happens. It takes days, months, rituals, I have to mark you, we have to be married for fucks sake-!”

You couldn’t finish, gasping as he pressed his lips to yours, pulling you into his lap with a loud groan. “Well then mark me. That’s the start, right?”

You gaped at him, his stupid smile as he stared at you. “You know that means I have to bite you, right?”

“Yeah, it’s like those werewolf stories on Wattpad.”

“You were on Wattpad?”

“It was a dare, moving along. Does it like stay a bite mark or does it like turn into a tattoo?”

“I don’t know, a bloodborne has never marked anyone before,” you say, but your eyes narrow at him. “The hell are you reading where it turns into a tattoo?”

“I don’t know, it turns into their initials,” he shrugged, but paused. “Do I get to mark you too?”

“You want to mark me?” You say, smiling with a slight bounce making him hold back a grunt. “You can mark me right now.”

He smirked, staring at you as you slipped off your shirt to expose your shoulder. “Didn’t you say there’s a process?”

“Not for marking,” you respond, but pause. “But if you mark me, we have to get married soon, because I have to turn you in the span of a few months. Or maybe not because I'm bloodborne, so it could be different.”

“What if I don’t get turned?”

“You turn into a lust crazed monster until I do turn you, but it’s more lethal because since you’re so obsessed with sex, your mind doesn’t process the turn until your body is on fire. Well, it feels like it’s on fire.”

He pursed his lips. “So for the rest of eternity we’re just going to be a rich family hidden in the woods? Like the Cullens?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re just gonna ignore the fact that you’ll turn into a lust crazed monster?”

He grinned. “Well, who am I lusting for? You, right?”

“Well yeah, you have my blood in your veins, so of course you lust after me.”

“I see no problem in that.” He responds, ignoring the fact that his body might not register the turn.

You laughed, shaking your head as you pulled his hands to your back to unclasp your bra. “Well, you want to get this mating thing started, don’t you?” Your fingers move to trail down his chest after he unclasped your bra, your skin cold to the touch until his warm hands flattened against your back. “When you first bite, it’ll taste odd until that zing runs up your back. Then, I’ll tell you when to stop, alright? As soon as you stop, your mind might get kind of hazy and you’ll probably be really horny, alright?”

He laughed. “More horny than I am now? Impossible.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, tugging on the hem of his shirt to pull it off. Immediately, he pulls away and raises his arms for you to take off his shirt, your eyes staring at his mole covered chest. You inhale shakily as you finally meet his eyes, your hands pressed against his warm chest as he pushed his face into your neck, pressing firm kisses to your neck as you pulled him closer before kissing his ear.

“Are you sure you want this, Stiles?” You whisper, holding his face as you pull away. “It doesn’t have to happen now.”

He smiled up at you, shaking his head as he continued to press kisses to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “For the rest of eternity, remember?”

You smile, inhaling deeply as his tongue flattened against your neck making you lean your head to the side.

“Where do I bite?”

“Anywhere,” you mumbled, your mind hazy as you inhaled the smell that was so uniquely him, whiskey and mountain air combined with pine that made you walk straight toward him when you moved to town. “Anywhere you want.”

He pauses, pulling away to tilt his head up at you. “So it doesn’t have to be on your neck like in the stories?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Of course not. Anywhere you bite, like you said, it turns into initials surrounded by a slight imprint of your bite.”

He pauses, letting his eyes trail over your bare torso as he slowly moves so that you were actually seated in his lap. “Can I do it…” he lets his eyes trail over your skin, humming as he pressed a soft kiss to the space of skin a little lower to where the end of your clavicle was. “Here?”

“Why there?”

“Because,” he whispered, his eyes almost darkening as he let his tongue flatten against your skin, getting it wet with his spit as you groaned, tilting your head back. Your hips automatically roll into his, a loud groan falling from his mouth as he pulls away for a minute. “You gotta show it off, don’t you? Gets you to wear those low cut shirts I fuckin’ love.”

You gasped as his teeth finally sunk into your skin, your body basically on fire as he groaned against your skin. Like you said, it tasted weird at first, coppery and tangy until it flooded his mouth, the smell of the perfume you wore that he learned wasn’t actually perfume shifting into taste instead of the layers of smell you always smelled like. It was sweet and fruity, like strawberries and cherries with sweet cream and that white angel cake, tangy from the berries and sweet from the pastries.

Fuck, it tasted so good. His teeth were deep in your skin, the only cooling part of your body where his teeth sank and drew blood, his hot body making yours feel even hotter.

You could feel your mind get hazy, your eyes rolling back as he tried to suck harder, a loud groan falling from his lips as his hands pawed at your ass, your hips rutting into his almost automatically before you tugged on his hair. “St-Sti, not too much, you could get sick.”

He basically whined, only pulling away by the tug of his hair before licking over the bite mark left on your skin. He panted, watching it as though it would change into the black tattoo-ink like color he was truly expecting it to turn in an instant.

You giggled, quickly catching his jaw before pulling him up to look at you. “It’s not going to happen until I mark you first, my love.”

He stared up at you, eyes a dark chocolate color, lips slightly stained and his tongue tinted a darker red. “Oh.”

You giggle, leaning down to press firm kisses to his skin, never stopping your firm thrusts of your clothed hips against his own, tongue trailing around his skin scattered with moles. “Where do you want it, baby?”

“Where everyone can see,” his hands were shaking from excitement, the taste of your blood sending electricity through his body, tongue flattening against your shoulder and holding back the urge to sink his teeth in again. “Wherever you want it to be, as long as it’s on show.”

“So…” you whisper, letting your tongue trail down the side of his jaw, pushing against the moles under his ear. “Like, here? Or… lower?”

“A-A little lower, please,” he whispered, words breathy as he focused on your hips rolling into his, hard and your hot cunt sliding against his hard cock. He could feel your wetness through your shorts and his jeans, hissing as you leaned forward and kept your hips there, releasing your weight just a bit to keep his cock slotted between your folds. “Fuck, please.”

You hummed, your tongue flattening on the pulse filling your ears until going to the side of his neck. “Here?”

“Mhm,” he merely hummed, nodding into your neck as his hands shakily grabbed your hips. “D-Don’t stop your moving hips, please.”

You giggle, your eyesight basically blurring as you stare at his neck, that one mole catching your eye before you inhaled deeply and felt your canines extend, a comical shing filling the room as you sunk your teeth into his skin. You could barely focus on his cock rubbing against your clothed cunt, one of his hands slipping in between you both to tug your shorts and underwear to the side, pushing his fingers into your leaking cunt and his fingers thrusting into your cunt. You were so tight, so so tight and wet, two of his fingers easily pushing into you and rolling his fingers inside of you.

You were so distracted with the taste of his blood, pushing in and out, in and out, but it was nothing compared to how good he tasted. He tasted like caramel, underlying with nutty butterscotch and whiskey, maybe a slight bit of salt that balanced everything out. You groaned loudly, eyes flying open as he pulled his finger out, the sound of him unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them to pull his cock out of his boxers and push his tip into you making you moan loudly against his skin.

Oh it was almost as though you couldn’t stop, your head pounding as you felt his veins pumping and heart beating, a soft gasp making you pull away, cursing. Was it too much? Did you take too much from him?

“Why did you stop?” He whispered, staring up at you with hazy eyes. “I liked it. I-I loved it. It felt like lightning-”

“Stiles.”

“L-Like lightning was traveling down my spine and filling my veins-”

“Stiles.”

He paused, staring up at you as you looked down at your skin, smiling when you saw the initials MS surrounded by the faded gray bite mark. “Mieczysław. Fuck, I love that name, I love your name.”

“I love you,” he whispers back, smiling as you giggled down at him, his face pressing against your skin before kissing his initials. “I love you so much.”

You smile as he slowly pushes you onto your back, his eyes a dark chocolate brown as he pulls out just for a minute, pulling off his pants after kicking off his shoes and tugging down your shorts and pretty panties. Your eyes rolled back as he flattened his tongue against your wet slit, flicking his tongue against your puffed up clit before sitting back on his feet and pumping his cock. You could see his cock covered in cum, inhaling deeply as you looked over at his discarded boxers, a splatter of cum making you giggle.

“I made you cum in your pants, Mieczysław?”

He groaned as he pushed back into you, staring at the creamy ring he started to leave around your entrance that kept sucking him farther and farther into you. He groaned, his mind fully attentive to your cunt basically swallowing his length, whimpers and squirming finally starting when he left the last few inches. His eyes flickered up to your face, a groan falling from his lips as he saw his initials on your skin, your face pinched in pleasure and eyes rolling back as he thrusted into you sharply to watch that creamy ring settle on his base and your hands flying to his forearms.

“Fuck, fuck Stiles!”

He shook his head, holding your hips with a grunt. “No baby, call me by my real name,” he said, cursing softly as he started to thrust his hips, watching your body bounce with each thrust, your tits moving and his eyes trained on the mark he made. You were right, he was so fucking addicted to the feeling of you around his cock, more lightning traveling up his spine as your nails dug into his forearm, blood making your eyes flash red. “You always say it so fucking nice.”

He watched you groan loudly, moving so his chest pressed against yours and moving his arms to support him. He watched your mouth move to his forearms, your tongue flattening against his skin and licking up all of the blood, his mouth moving to your head to press kisses against your hair, groans falling from his mouth with each thrust before you moved to stare up at him, pulling him down to kiss him, that same coppery tang disappearing and fading into the same whiskey flavor you had been addicted to.

“Mieczysław,” you whispered, gasping as his thrusts got faster, whining as his hand pushed down to circle against your clit torturously before his other hand gripped your thigh, digging his nails so deep into your skin he drew blood. “F-Fuck!”

He groaned as he pushed his fingertips against your skin, covering them with that crimson liquid before pushing them into his mouth and slamming into you one last time to cum inside of you, the gushing of his cum making you cum from the almost inflation like feeling. It didn’t take you long to push him over, though, staring at his already healed forearm. You smiled as you began to roll your hips, desperate as his tip kissed your cervix, pushing deeper and deeper at this new angle as you moaned loudly, holding his chest and staring down at the mark with your own initials on his skin.

It fueled your movements, staring down at the cum smearing along his pelvis, whimpering as you bounced on his length. “Please, please, fuck!”

“You need my help, don’t you?” He teased, lifting his hips to roll into you at the same time you pushed down, your eyes rolling back as he pushed even deeper inside of you - something you truly didn’t think could happen. “Right?”

“Yes! Yes, yes!” You pleaded, gasping as he forced his hips up into you, thrusting over and over again at the same speed you were bouncing on his cock with even more force than you could ever imagine. You were so lost in pleasure, his warm hands holding your hips as you tried to stay sitting up, your body finally registering the fresh human blood in your veins. It had been a while since you had anything other than bagged blood or animal blood, and as a result, your high was gone and inevitably coming down until he slammed his hips up into you, your eyes rolling back as the knot in your stomach snapped and a loud moan of his name - his real name - left your mouth.

He groaned underneath you, his cum gushing out of your cunt as you slowly got off, staring at his still hard cock. You giggle, smiling as you pumped his cock and licked the cum sliding down his shaft, groaning as he bucked his hips up into your mouth. You kept it in your mouth, moaning loudly as you bobbed your head, pumping what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and staring at his face.

You didn’t register his human features, not anymore, his blood pumping and his lungs filling with air or exhaling air, only the fact that the cum on his cock tasted so fucking delicious and your fingers cupping and squeezing his balls which made his hips buck and you pull back to feel his cum flood your mouth. You groaned, sucking on his pretty tip and your hand fisting his cock, swallowing the salty liquid before pulling away.

Your mind was full of lust as you slowly crawled up his body, his hands immediately catching your hips as you hovered over his face. His eyes were hazy with lust as you grinned down at him. "You're such a good boy, honey. I think you deserve a treat."

He groaned loudly as you slowly released your weight, holding the sides of his head as his hands hold your thighs, your hips rolling into his mouth as his tongue pushed into your cunt, basically pulling all of the cum from your pussy, your eyes rolling back as one of his hands pushed between your thighs and straight into your cunt.

His flexing fingers guided the rolls of your hips, moans falling from your lips as you attempted to cover your mouth before a finger pressed to your clit and his teeth grazed your pussy. You whined loudly, your stomach twisting as you attempted to chase that high, his fingers pushing into you to press against that place that made your stomach go tight and your eyes roll back, curses falling from your lips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Mieczysław!”

He hummed against your cunt, the vibrations making you shiver as he slowly lifted you from his face and push you down so you sat on his cock. He slowly pushed into you, a shiver going down your back as he held your face, pulling you up for a firm kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, Mieczysław,” you whisper back, smiling as his lips quirked up into a smile of his own, sighing heavily. “Do you feel okay?”

“Yeah, I feel great,” he smiled, shrugging. “Really horny.”

You laughed, nodding. “We can keep going,” you whisper, smiling as you lay against his warm chest. “Just… let me lay here in your warmth for a minute.”

“Will you miss it?” He whispers, stroking your cheek as he stares down at you. “M-My warmth.”

You inhale deeply, nodding as your hand rubbed against his chest where his heart was, the beating already slowing down. “Yeah, I will,” you shrug though, giggling. “But we’re the first of our kind, my love. I’m hoping you’ll keep it.”

“Then I do too.”

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bouncybongfairy · 7 months

Text

All Around Me

Void Stiles x Fem Reader

Summary: After having a bit too much fun at a friend's birthday party, you go home and wind down with a bath and a Teen Wolf marathon. You start reading a steamy fanfic about Void Stiles, which causes you to have an acid-induced trip about hooking up with him.

Word Count: 2.5k+

(!This is a smut fanfic, proceed with caution!)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It took you a couple of times to put the key in the door but you got there eventually. You were coming home from your friend’s birthday. It was almost 3am and you were cross-faded, starving and your heels were killing your feet. After dropping your purse on the kitchen island you started drunkenly wrestling the heels off your feet. The fridge was your next stop, pulling out leftover whatever and sticking it in the microwave. As you waited you pulled your food out of the microwave and headed to your bedroom. It was kind of nice having the entire house to yourself. Your parents were gone, visiting your aunt who’d just given birth. You sat on your mother’s bed and started shoving the leftovers into your mouth. The nightstand starts vibrating, prompting you to check your phone.

Heyy, glad ur home safe <3 just reminding u we dropped acid like 30 mins before u ubered home just be careful! (we should have listened to Ashley when she said no more lmao)

You completely forgot about that, at first it made your heart drop but then you realized you would probably be asleep before the effects really kicked in. Your parent’s room was so luxurious and you always looked forward to stealing it when they left. The buzz from being drunk was still there but wasn’t as intense as before. You ran the warm water and started filling the bathtub, it was huge and made you feel so fancy. Bring your hand above the bath, you feel the steam coming off the water. The feeling of washing the makeup off your face was euphoric. It was like the hot water was loosening all your joints and muscles. You kept one of your hands dry to be able to hit your pen and change the music coming from the speaker. After enjoying the bath for a while, you got out and wrapped a towel around yourself. Out of nowhere, your heart starts racing. At first you thought it was from being in the steamy bathroom. You fought through it and did your nightly routine. By the time you made it to your room, you were rolling. You turned on Teen Wolf as background noise, the silence was starting to feel too heavy on your ears. You changed into a big tshirt but didn’t have much mental focus for anything else.

You looked at the T.V and watched Void Stiles take the screen. You began to cry thinking about how sad this part of the plot was. The tears were flooding and you were feeling high off emotion. You pulled out your phone and started to read Void Stiles fanfics. The combination of hearing him through the TV and reading about him was making you feel a combination of scared and excitement. You weren’t really sure if you fell asleep or dissociated but you scared yourself awake. Your eyes immediately flew to what looked like a figure standing in the doorway. It scared the shit out of you, making you jolt and sit up. Your chest was rising and falling at an alarming rate. Its head tilted to the side in an ominous way. Part of you thought you were still drunk and high and that you were hallucinating this appreciation. You threw one of the pillows at it and when the figure turned his head to look at where it landed you gasped and began crying.

“Why are you acting scared?” the man's voice asked. Your hand flew over your mouth and you brought your knees to your chest.

He began walking closer, slowly yet confidently. When he stepped closer, he stopped where the moonlight was coming in from the window. It was Void Stile, part of you felt relief because you figured this had to be a dream. Another part of you was even more freaked out because what the fuck is happening. His skin was pale and had dark red bags underneath his eyes. His hair was disheveled, sticking up and out in several ways. Wearing all black which made him look so much more intimidating. He was walking closer but still had his head tilted to the side. At this point, he was sitting at the foot of the bed, staring you down.

“I asked why are you acting so scared?” he asked again.

“Because you’re scaring me,” you choked out, barely having the ability to form words. It was like your entire body was submerged in ice water, paralyzing you and taking your breath away.

“Oh no, I know you don’t believe that. You were just reading about me. Imagining me doing unspeakable things to you. So again, why are you scared?” he asked again but in a rhetorical way. He stood up so fast that you flinched, he walked over to your desk and picked up the framed picture of your boyfriend.

“Is this your little boyfriend?” he asked while full-on laughing, you could reply verbally and instead shook your head yes.

“Why are you with him if he’s not satisfying you?” he asked.

“He can sat-” you were interrupted by Void grabbing you by the jaw, not painfully but forcefully.

“Why do you keep lying?” he growled.

“H-how would you know if..” you couldn’t even finish your sentence because you were full-on sobbing.

“Do you know what the four things the human brain naturally craves?” he asked. As you shook your head no, he brought his hands up and wiped the tears off your face with his thumb, then licked the tear off his finger.

“Food, water, sleep and sex. Somewhere in the deepest part of your mind, you’re craving sexual gratification that the little boys in your life clearly can’t give you. I mean, why else would you have manifested me? Searched for the most ravid and lascivious versions of me on the internet to gratify your needs? They’re scared to cross a line but that’s what’s different about them to me. I can’t be satisfied until I’ve crossed it,” he was now standing again, towering over you. He was so close that his torso almost touched your nose. You squinted your eyes and turn away without moving your body.

Your ears were burning and you were starting to feel faint. Part of you felt like you couldn’t hear everything he was saying because your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears. He walked over to your dresser, opened the second drawer and grabbed the unopened bottle of Everclear that you were saving for a party coming up. He then walked over to your purse and pulled out a joint, without missing a beat he then walked over to a pair of jeans on the ground and pulled out a lighter. The fact that he knew exactly where everything was truly shook you to your core. You were becoming paranoid, convinced that he could hear your thoughts. He came back on the bed and lit the joint, blowing the smoke right in your face.

“You need to relax, take a drag,” he said, extending his arm and offering the joint. You tried to speak, even though you weren’t quite sure what to say. It was like your mouth physically couldn’t let the words out. He angrily ripped the blanket off your body and threw it across the room with such force it made a thump sound when hitting the wall.

“Do you really want me to forcibly blow the smoke into your mouth? I wouldn’t be surprised but you can just ask,” he said mocking yet angrily. When you reached out to grab it your arms and hands were shaking so badly that you were struggling to get a hold of it.

“You know..” he started as he sat down and brought the joint to your lips because your hands were too shaky to do so for yourself, “your fear is different than other people, there’s a purity to it, almost like an innocence. So much so that I can almost taste its sweetness on my tongue. The havoc and panic that is radiating off your body because part of you knows that I’ll have you but is so confused and scared by my presence,” he said, taking a swig out of the bottle.

He wedged himself between your back and the headboard of the bed. His legs were long, when they were bent his knees were significantly higher than yours. At this point you felt completely drained, still scared but it was like the adrenaline high was coming down a bit. You pulled at one of the strings on the ripped part of his jeans and took the joint from his hand. At this point, you were high enough to convince yourself this was some weird dream because you fell asleep crossfaded. You looked up at the T.V and saw void Stiles, in the scene when he stabbed Scott. You looked back so that you could face him, almost like you were checking if he was still there. His eyes were black, similar to how they looked on stuffed animals. The bags under his eyes were so red that they looked like they might hurt when touched. He was just staring at you, smirking with his head tilted. You leaned back and melded your back to his front, as you did this he slid his hands up your bare thighs. His lips were now pressed against the back of your ear, your pulse quickened when you felt his steady breathing against your skin. The hands on his skin were rough from biting at his nail beds. His breath was slow and steady, you tried to match his pace with his but couldn’t slow your heart rate down. He moved his hands to your arms, running his fingertips from your shoulders to your hands. That was when you realized you’d been subconsciously gripping the towel that you fell asleep in. Unexpectedly he grabbed your wrists and ripped them away from your body causing your towel to fall. At first, you tried to fight against his grip but then realized you didn’t really want to. You moved your hands up slowly until they were at the sides of his head. Running your fingers through his hair gently and cautiously. He let go of your wrists and moved his hands to the sides of your hips. He pulled you against him causing your bare ass to rub against his erection under his jeans. He pressed his lips against your shoulder and let out a groan. He swiftly slides out from behind you and props himself up with his shoulders on top of you. Now on your back, you used your feet trying to push his jeans off. He dropped his head a bit on your shoulder so hard it took your breath away. You gasped and squirmed in pain and in reaction Void pressed his hips into you, keeping you from squirming away.

“How are you ever gonna explain this to whatever the fuck this C stands for,” he said referring to the necklace you had around your neck. He tightens the grip on it and rips it off your neck, crushing it and letting the mangled piece of metal fall to the ground. This caused a change in the atmosphere, it was like the snap of the chain symbolized the breaking of your self-control. He sat up and pulled his pants and boxers down, they were barely past his thighs when you grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him to you. Connecting your lips for the first time, the kiss was more rough than sloppy. His shaft was now pressed against your clit, moving his hips back and forth against you as the kiss deepened. You moaned into his mouth and rocked your hips up to meet his bucks. He moves his elbows so that they are right next to your ears. His fingers running through your hair and gripping onto the strands tightly. He pulled his hips back and thrust himself into you, he moaned and dropped his forehead onto your shoulder. He kept himself still while you fully engulfed him in your heat. Continuously tightening and loosening the grip he had on the fists full of your hair. You were in pure pleasure, purposely tightening and loosening your walls, admiring the feeling of fullness. You knew he was into it because his head was still buried in your shoulder. His mouth open and his bottom lip pressed against your skin as he groaned and growled, a bit of saliva dripping onto your chest. Becoming impatient, you start trusting your hips upward. He jerks his head up so that you’re looking at each other face to face.

“Your eyes are so glossed over, enjoying yourself I see,” he growled as he began rocking his hips back and forth.

“Holy fucking shit,” you moaned out going to tilt your head back but being stopped by the grip he had on your hair.

“Oh no, I wanna see your face. I like watching the raw reactions you have to me,” he snarled as he sped up. Your core felt like it was on fire, burning in a way you’d never felt before. You raked your fingernails down his back, digging in as hard as you can. Instead of wincing like most guys did, he moaned while smirking slightly. He was pounding into you so hard that his hip bones were starting to pierce you with every thrust. The burning feeling inside your stomach was building to a level, your blood felt like fire in the best possible way as you began to cum.

“You have no idea how fucking good it feels to have you spasming around my cock,” he said swiving his hips in circles as he pressed himself as deep as he could into you,

“Fuck I can’t get any closer,” he said while bucking and cumming into you. He was grunting and moaning to your neck, catching his breath for a second or two before continuing. As he started his thrusts up again you started to feel how sensitive you were. After you both had orgasmed there was a slickness that allowed Void to move faster and deeper into you. He took one of your nipples into his mouth and circled his tongue around the peak before biting down.

“Void I’m- it feels so ahh- sensitive,” you said, running your fingers through his hair and bringing him closer but he pulled away so that he was sitting up on his knees. You moaned as he pulled his length out and started massaging your clit with his tip.

“Should I stop? I mean if you’re too sensitive then maybe I shouldn’t make you cum again. Maybe feeling my cock pulse inside you while your wall spasm around me will be too much for you,” he said repeatedly sticking his tip in and out of your slit. You reacted by wrapping your legs around his waist and trying to bring him closer to you which made him chuckle.

“Yeah that’s what I fucking thought,” he said dropping back on top of you and started furiously pounding away at you. You were yelping from pleasure after every thrust, pulling on his hair tightly. You were biting down on your lip so hard that you began to taste blood. When Void noticed, he grabbed you by the jaw and kissed you deeply while maintaining the same pace. Groaning and grunting into your mouth, you could tell he was getting close because his thrusts were becoming more sporadic and sloppy. You could no longer hold your second orgasm back and arched your back while practically screaming. Seeing you in complete ecstasy and submission caused Void to cum, the look in his eyes was feral and completely mesmerized you. It made you feel powerful to see him so tired and drained because of you. He pulled out and laid next to you, propping his head up with his elbow. A couple tears ran down your face simply because of how overstimulating the second orgasm was. He used his finger to wipe away the tears and gave you a kiss on each eyelid.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you whispered, already half asleep.

“Rest now,” and as quickly as he said it, your eyes shot open to your fully lit bedroom. The room looked completely undisturbed which caused you to shoot up. You ran over to your dresser and started throwing the underwear everywhere. When you pulled out the still-sealed bottle of Everclear, you knew it must have been a dream. You sat on your bed and took a minute to think about how real and vivid the entire ordeal felt. After grabbing your pen from your purse, you plop down on your bed to check your socials. As you bring the pen to your lips, it drops out of your hand. You sigh in frustration and go to grab the pen from the ground without looking but end up feeling some type of necklace against your fingertips. When you take a better look at it and realize it’s the crushed necklace from last night.

#teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf smut #void stiles smut #void stiles x reader #void stiles imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski smut #void stiles #dylan o'brien #dylan o’brien smut #dylan o'brian x reader

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sugarcoatedstarkey · 1 year

Text

An Office Affair

Pairing - Dylan O’brien x fem!reader

Summary - Dylan started with the company 3 years ago and you both just click.

Warning- semi public sexual intercourse, fingering, choking, hair pulling, language. [18+]

You're unsure how you ended up in this predicament. You think back to how the last 3 years had played out, you and Dylan had been flirty from the get go.

He was a new hire and you organised his desk before he started, that was one of your many tasks. You always left the new starters a little good luck note and a small chocolate bar, just something to welcome and edge them on.

Dylan had been one of the few who really appreciated the small gesture, he asked around and found out that it was you who left the note. So he responded by leaving you a note a few weeks later, suddenly it had become a game of leaving each other notes until finally you both bumped into each other on level 3.

You didn’t work on the same floor as you were always out and about with the big boss, bringing him coffees and writing minutes in meetings. So when you were actually in the office you sat on level 7, you had gone down to level 3 to fix up another new starters desk that happened to be next to Dylan’s.

You both just clicked and the flirting begun, it started on the notes and then it moved to small touches when you were in the same room, Dylan dropping you coffee on level 7 and you ‘needing’ to stock up your stationary box each week just to see him.

And now here you are, 3 years later. Skirt bunched up around your hips, panties pulled to the side and heels digging into the very expensive printer.

Dylan’s fingers deep inside your soaked cunt, your head dropped back as he licks and sucks at the skin of your neck. “Jesus Dylan” you moaned, his thumb played with your oversensitive clit.

You clenched around him, sucking his fingers in deeper. He was toying with your sweet spot, pushing you closer to your release. “Oh… faster please” you begged, your fingernails leaving half crescent moons on his shoulder blades.

His scruffy beard scratching at your collar bone, his hot breath fanning over your skin. “Fuck… I love the sounds you make” Dylan professed, his fingers picking up speed within your pussy.

Your juices running down his fingers, the sound of your wet cunt filled the stationary room. The small light left on illuminated your bodies, shadows bouncing off the four walls. “I’m so close!” You cried, grinding your hips into his hand.

He had three fingers buried deep inside, knuckles disappearing within you. Tears trickled down your cheeks as your high finally reached you, your walls pulsating around his digits.

Your soft cries muffled by his shoulder as you gripped onto him for dear life, your legs shaking against the printer. He didn’t let up his movements until you began to push him fingers away, your pussy physically crying at his touch.

He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked, your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head in delight. “Fuck… your so hot” you state, pulling him to you by the back of his head.

His lips pressed to yours harshly, your fingers fiddling with his Armani belt. You finally got him free, staring down at his cock that stood proud. The head redden and leaking pre cum, screaming to be touched.

Your hand reaches out to grip him, giving him a soft tug. He emits a choked groan, palms making contact with the printer to keep himself steady. “Sweet girl… I’m going to need to fuck you now or I’ll come in your hand” he admits.

You nod your head profusely and bring him to your folds, dragging him up and down, collecting the juices with his tip. He nudged himself against your swollen clit, a shiver running through your spine.

“Come on pretty girl”

He grips your hips and pushes inside of you without warning, a husky groan leaves his lips. You feel physically full, your walls fluttering around his girthy cock. “I’m going to move us” he states, pulling out of you momentarily.

He pulls you from the printer and spins you around, pushing your upper back down. Angling your face against the printer and bringing your ass up higher, pushing himself back into you.

“Oh sweet Jesus” you exclaim, his hips meet the swell of your ass cheeks with each thrust. You can feel his heavy balls against your clit, your fingers curling around the printer for support.

“You feel so good… I’ve wanted to fuck you in this room the moment I laid eyes on you” he admits, you let out a grunt of agreement. Pushing your hips back to meet him roughly.

“Dylan… harder!” You order, you need him to give it his all. Your pussy needed to be abused by him, it weeped for him. Arousal soaking his thick cock, his movements quickened. Hands gripping onto your hips for support once more. “Faster!”.

Your breathless moans are muffled by your biceps, burying your head against your skin. His fingers interlock with the loose ponytail and yank your upright, your back meeting his chest. “Don’t hide those sweet sounds”.

You cry out in pleasure, his hand sliding from your hair to your throat. He gives it a slight squeeze, the breath getting caught for a moment. “Fuck” you breath when he lets go, that breathless daze you get when your running out of breath washes over you. “Do it again”.

He gives you another squeeze and you claw at his arm, pressing your hips into him again. He pulls out of you again and drags you towards the desk, dropping you onto the wooden table and lining himself up with you again. “We’ve got 5 minutes before the cleaners clock on” Dylan states, eyes darting to the clock beside them.

You nod your head, his movements quicken. The desk hitting the wall in the process, the noise echoing within the stationary room. You grip onto his shoulders, biting down on your lower lip as he fucks you with such force you feel like you might both go through the wall.

“Oh god.. Dylan! Fuck!” You cry, you clit rubs against the skin of his lower stomach. The familiar tingle begins to spread through your body, your pussy pulsating around his cock.

“Dyl… I’m going to cum” you warn, squeezing your eyes shut and biting down onto his shoulder. He grabs your waist and angles himself deeper, your cries are muffled by his shirt.

You can no longer hold on, letting the wave of pleasure hit you at full force. Physically shaking around him, toes curling and walls fluttering. You're soaking his cock, pure arousal dripping from every inch of you.

He’s right behind you, cock buried deep and spurting cum into you. You can feel him shudder and jerk against you, his moans and groans of pleasure filling the room. You press your lips to his as he cums, hands holding his face against yours.

“It took us 3 years to do that” you breath, he begins to pull out of you slowly. He chuckles and takes a seat next to you. “Let’s not leave it another 3 years to repeat it” he jokes, giving you another peck on the lips.

The lights on level 3 turn back on, indicating the cleaners have clocked on. The two of you rush to clean yourself up and get changed, sneaking out of the building going unnoticed.

🏷️ @novxturient

#dylan o’brien #dylan o’brien smut #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o’briens hands #dylan o'brien fic #dylan o'brien fluff #dylan o'brien fanfiction #dylan o'brien edit #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan obrien

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thankspete · 1 year

Text

Swimsuits & Sangria | dob

Word Count: 8.7k Rating: M Summary: All it takes is the hot summer sun and some boozy fruit to turn good friends into a little something more. | Also on Ao3! Warnings: friends to lovers, drunk flirting, mutual pining, SMUT (oral, fingering [F receiving], masturbation, praise kink, orgasm denial, unprotected sex) ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

You knew you loved Dylan when you were sitting at his poolside minibar, all sunglasses and swimsuits, watching him place a tiny umbrella in your drink. It was a Saturday, sometime past four and the heat beating from the sun had you sticky with a combination of SPF and sweat. Guests wouldn’t be arriving for at least another 45 minutes, but Dylan invited you to come early. You’d shown up two hours ago to make your sangria recipe as he requested. It took no longer than fifteen minutes to cut up the apples and citrus, then combine them with sugar and alcohol in a pitcher. It was placed in the fridge, ready to drink, at 3:09 and the party didn’t even begin until 5:30. Knowing your friends, that meant 6:15.

Dylan isn’t an idiot, he must’ve known he invited you far too early, but you didn’t want to feed into your own delusion. You’d met eight months ago in an ill-lit dive bar on trivia night in an unintended merging of yours and Tyler’s friend groups. Your team had managed to claw your way to third place by the end of the tournament, despite you shoo-ing Tyler’s phone away when he tried Googling answers. Dylan sat across from you on the innermost part of the booth, your friend Jade to your right. Two vodka lemonades in and you were struggling not to try to get a better look at his face. Despite the tug you felt to do so, you were terrified to really look at him, terrified that the tips of your ears would get red and your cover would be blown. You pulled the claw out of your hair and let it settle around your shoulders. You didn’t think it would be more than a silly drunk crush, primed by Deep Eddy and the fact you hadn’t gotten laid in weeks. Drunk enough to feel a tug in your abdomen when you watched his hands as he shuffled a deck of cards and dispersed them among you, but not dumb enough to try to do something about it.

The only difference now is that you could look at Dylan without feeling like you were going to fall over. Barely. Pregaming the party certainly wasn’t necessary, your sangria was boozy enough, but taste testing a new cocktail recipe devolved into three and now you’re both giggly and droopy-eyed under the California sun.

“I think the last one was the best,” he sets the glass down on the counter and pushes it in your direction. You pull the straw to your lips and take a sip.

“Hm.” Another sip. “I don’t know. The amaretto really goes off in this.”

“No, no,” he tuts, reaching for the last glass you shared. “You need a reminder.” He swaps the glass of drink three with drink two in front of you, then takes a swig and makes a face. Maybe amaretto just isn’t the liqueur for him.

“There’s, like, nothing in this, Dylan.”

“That’s definitely a taste-worth’s amount of liquid.” You look at him in disbelief. “Look, if you’re not gonna drink it I’m gonna go ahead and lick the glass clean. You have five seconds.”

“Shut up.” You take the glass and tilt it over your mouth, with no more than seven drops dripping onto your tongue.

“So? Definitely better.” He grabs the cup from your hand and replaces it with the drink he dislikes.

“Definitely good, but I made it so that’s not really news.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. You’re making it for me again soon.” He’s leaning on the bar counter in front of you on his forearms, eyeing the empty glass and seemingly genuinely debating if he should lick it clean.

“Maybe if you ask politely, Dylan.” You stir your drink with the straw before taking a big sip.

“Sorry, baby.” He grabs your hand and leans closer to your face. “Could you, please, make me that delicious drink again sometime?”

“I could send you the recipe.” You take pleasure in the way his face twists to your response. You can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses.

He squeezes your hand. “No, it’s not the same. I’ll make it worth your while.”

You laugh out loud and push his glasses up to sit behind his hairline. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to mean.” He takes the glass in front of you and pulls his glasses back onto his face. “Ugh,” he says after taking a drink. “We gotta end on a better note than this. I’m making a tequila sunrise.” He passes the drink back to you.

“You’re gonna let me finish this on my own?”

“Yeah.” He grins, all straight teeth and wide lips, as he pats your arm before leaning down to get a bottle of Espolon from under the counter.

“Dick,” you grumble as you pick up your drink and stand from the barstool. There was a set of four lounge chairs on the right side of the pool and you settle on the nearest one. On your phone, you connect to the Bluetooth speakers set up behind the bar where Dylan stood. The sound of your phone unexpectedly pairing to the speaker spooks him and you hear the ice tray fall onto the counter.

“You okay over there, butterfingers?” You take your glasses off and look in his direction.

“Yeah. Play something good, will ya?” He throws a broken piece of ice at you and misses. You put Microwave’s Much Love on shuffle, the sound of crunchy guitar blasting from the wall behind him.

Dylan walks to the chairs, two drinks in hand. You are nearly done with your drink, but happily put it aside to accept a new one.

“Are you trying to loosen me up right now?” You cock your eyebrow at him when he sits down. “I’m gonna be a whole drink ahead of you by the time I’m done with this.” You keep your eyes steady on his face while you drink. There’s so much grenadine you can’t even taste the tequila.

“You make it sound like it’s easy.” His voice is even and his lips settle into their neutral position. You wish he would take his sunglasses off.

“It’s hard? I don’t know about that.”

“Maybe boozing you up isn’t the preferred gameplan,” Dylan says flatly. He lets the words settle between you for a beat. “Let me finish your other drink.” He holds his hand out and you pass him the glass.

“Thank you.”

You sit in silence together, soaking in the sun and occasionally humming along to the music. There’s no point in dissecting whatever the hell that was, not when Jade had already texted that her, Jenny, Marcus, and Tyler were en route. But… had he done it on purpose? Just a taste, less than a taste, but more than enough to pique the part of your psyche devoted to some of your most private fantasies. Your skin felt hot, but not because of the ninety degree dry heat or the sun, far lower in the sky than when you arrived, but of the perceived intentions of the man to your right. Your sunglasses are back on, but its thin frames don’t hide your side-eye look-over of him. It’s like he was expecting it, the way he immediately turns to look at you, head tilted. You surrender and shift your torso to face him head-on, too tipsy to feel embarrassed about getting caught peeking. Maybe it was delusional, but the tightness in your lower abdomen was as real as the straw dangling from his lips. Your reflection is small in the impenetrable black of his Ray-Bans and you allow yourself to dwell on the idea that he was enjoying a far greedier look at your body than yours at his.

“Were you going to say something?” His words interrupt your train of thought, which had gone entirely off the rails as you struggled to separate your thoughts into what was and was not appropriate to say aloud. He was right, you had turned to him so confidently, but with nothing else for him to work with.

“Can a girl just have a look?”

That seemed to catch him off guard, eyebrows high and mouth ticked into a loose smile. “Are you objectifying me right now?”

You let out a noise of dismissal and grab your cup from the small glass table between you. “You love it. From the right people.” The end of your sentence is punctuated by the sound of air sucking through your straw as you finish your drink.

“You think you’re ‘the right people’?” Dylan licks his lips and finally pulls his glasses up to the crown of his head. His taunt only makes your core beat harder, body entirely uncaring of what was real and was in your imagination. If he was setting up a game, you happily play along–and win.

“I’m pretty certain, Dyl.” You shift your body again to sit up and place your feet flat on the ground. “If it were up to me, I’d be the right person.” You gather the three empty glasses from the table and get up to bring them inside.

You don’t hear him stand to follow, but you see his reflection not too far behind yours in the sliding glass door. You can’t tell if you expected him to follow you back in or if you just hoped for it. Either way, you couldn’t help but be struck with a vision as you step into his home and the kitchen island comes into view: Your chest pressed flush to the cold granite, breasts spilling out of the tiny bikini top you embarrassingly wore just for him today. One foot on the floor while your balance is supported by your knee on a stool, spread and gasping underneath the pressure of his big palms on your hips and his cock slipping in and out through the side of your swim bottoms. You attempt to get to the dishwasher without stumbling, mind hazy from the drinks and the intrusive daydreams. Dylan’s long strides bring him to the counter at the same time as you, reaching around your hip to hold you steady. His other hand opens the dishwasher and pulls out the top tray. You work together to arrange the glasses among existing dishware, awkwardly clinking against one another in an uncoordinated symphony. Despite having an approximately equal number of drinks, he was composing himself much more than you thought you even were capable of right now. Was it risk it all territory? You were unsure. LA traffic was atrocious, but not bad enough you were willing to attempt to make your wish come true. There was no way you’d be able to sneak to the bathroom, even if your little hole was already pulsing and sensitive, clenching around nothing at the sensation of his fingers resting on your side. You could do it fast, you feel like you’re about to blow, but you’re haunted by the fear he’d know. Your eyes might give you away, or maybe the way you talked to him. Even with hands freshly washed, he might smell it, might be so curious as to ask what got you so worked up while you were here, alone together. What level of desperation caused you to slip away just to get off on your own. Fuck, honestly you might even want it.

He shuts the dishwasher door, hand remaining on your hip. “Thank you for helping.”

You don’t respond to his words, focused on the light pink color spread across his cheeks and nose. “Sunburn?” You ghost your thumb over the area. He raises his eyebrows. You press down on the area, thumb a few centimeters below his eye and fingers framing the side of his face. His hair is thick, but soft against your fingertips. His skin turns from white back to pink as the blood rushes back into the region. “That hurt?”

“No.” The shade of pink deepens slightly. Not a sunburn.

You stand there playing a game of chicken with one another, trying to read the situation as if his palms weren’t sliding up your waist and you hadn’t removed your hand from his face. You refused to be the one who did it, especially after today.

The sound of the doorbell causes your hand to fall from his face, but he is unmoved. Dylan presses his lips together as he looks at you, then past you toward the direction of the door.

“Be good and get the sangria out, okay, angel?” His hands release your sides and he gently shakes your chin before brushing past you to greet your friends. You let out a breath when he’s out the room, dnomi from his proximity to your face. Your task is simple and you get to it. Six small glasses are fished from the cabinet to the left of the fridge and you get the ice tray from the freezer. Two cubes go in each glass and you refill the tray before placing it back in the freezer. You hear everyone before you see them, Jen excitedly chattering about a date last night while Tyler laments about the drive up. Once the six glasses are full, you’re greeted by a hug from Jade as the crowd enters the kitchen. Dylan wordlessly takes the half-empty pitcher from the counter in front of you, unnecessarily reaching around you for it. You savor the moment where his hand rests on your skin, warm and firm against your stomach.

You and Jade stay behind as the group moves through the room to the backyard, shuffled rock music blasting from the speaker connected to your phone. Once the room is empty, you turn to her in disbelief. “Today was weird. Like, good weird, but weird.”

“I saw… That man did not need to get so close to you to get that pitcher,” she laughs.

“He said… I don’t know, interesting things? Like, now-I’m-horny types of interesting. I don’t know, Jade, I literally–”

“I’ve been telling you! He wants it so bad and you…” She gestures to your swimsuit, “...look so fucking hot. I’m personally struggling with not motorboating you right now.”

You laugh and hope that you’re not both too delusional to read the situation. “Ah, well… We should go, they definitely think we’re talking shit.”

“We’re not?” She giggles and picks up both of your drinks. “Alright…”

The sun slowly sets as you lounge and watch your friends play 2v2 pool volleyball. Dylan and Jade are on one team, Tyler and Jenny on the other. Marcus is sitting to your left, scrolling through Twitter and occasionally tilting the phone in your direction to show you memes. Tyler and Jenny were winning, namely as a result of Dylan’s uncoordination. It was nearly a shut-out, with Marcus eventually playing ref and calling the game once it got ridiculous.

Dylan is soaked, cold water dripping from his hair onto your chest as he leans over your shoulder post-game. Goosebumps appear on your skin from the sensation.

“Can I help you?” You turn your head to face him.

“Can you make me that drink? A consolation prize? Pretty please.” His right hand is on your neck, thumb rubbing up and down the bones of your spine.

“What do I get if I do?” You stand and he removes his hand from your neck. He follows you to the bar, roles reversed as he sits on the stool and you stand behind the counter.

“What do you want?”

You line up the drink components on the counter and grab two empty glasses that had previously held your sangria. “I think you’re smart enough to figure it out, babe.”

“Honey…” He’s tapping his fingers on the table. The drink comes together quickly and you push a cup in his direction. He’s looking at you contemplatively and you lean on your elbows, pushing your face closer to his. He’s coated in the yellow glow of the sunset, light peeking from behind his hair like a halo. His brown features are enhanced by the warm light, your stomach doing flips as you try not to stare. You’re close enough to smell the sunscreen on his face. “Play volleyball with me and we can discuss.”

You roll your eyes, disappointed in his response. “You’re kinda ass at volleyball, Dylan. I don’t like being on the losing team.”

“I promise you’ll win, angel.”

You raise your eyebrows in amusement. “You promise?”

“With me?” You pretend not to catch the way his eyes move between your face and your breasts for a moment. “Yeah.”

You lose against Tyler and Jade, as expected. However, with the few successful spikes you were able to pull off, Dylan exhibited terrible sportsmanship. He gloated, picking you up and parading you, cheering in celebration around your half of the pool. You weren’t afraid that he would drop you, but happily took the opportunity to cling to his shoulders and press your breasts to the side of his face as he lifted you up and out of the water. It wasn’t winning, not yet, but you were lying if his grip on your thighs didn’t feel delicious.

Marcus starts up the grill while Jen begins to chop kebab vegetables on the bar counter. Tyler and Jade vacate the pool to help with the meal while you and Dylan remain. You sit closely on the steps on the far side of the pool, sunglasses on even as the sun disappears behind the horizon.

“Should we help out?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Dylan shrugs. “I’m providing the grill, the venue, and the propane. I don’t feel too bad about waiting a sec before stepping in.” His hand rests on your inner knee.

“Can’t say those things apply to me, Dyl.”

He smiles. “But you’re keeping me company. Counts for something.”

“When you’re already deeply indebted to me…” You place your hand on his forearm.

“There was no way in hell we were winning that game, baby, you gotta know that.” You purse your lips and he continues. “But you don’t want payment now, do you?” His hand moves further up your thigh and he moves his face closer to yours. “Not with all our friends here, right, angel?” You narrow your eyes at him. You’ve reached an impasse, heart and pussy pounding in sync with one another. His free hand cups your face and you can see all of your friends distracted on the other end of the yard in your periphery.

“Dylan,” you breathe. His hand moves further up your thigh, thumb rubbing circles into your upper inner thigh, mere centimeters from your sensitive center.

“You can be patient, can’t you?” His cheek is pressed to yours. You can’t tell if you're imagining the kisses scattered down your cheek. “You’ve been so good all day for me, yeah?”

You nod limply, but pinch his forearm lightly before dragging his hand from your thigh to the edge of your swim bottoms.

“That’s not being patient.” His tone is firm, but the tips of his fingers dip into the fabric. “We could have avoided this entirely if you just said something, baby.” You glance back at the group, still enjoying their time and minding their business. “Would’ve called it all off if I knew…” You shift your hips so he has easier access to your core. His fingers find their home between your folds, exposing the extent of your pent-up arousal. You let out a soft sigh at his touch and he pulls his face from yours to look you in the eye. Dylan continues, rubbing up and down the entirety of your cunt slowly. “Have you been like this all afternoon, angel? Thinking about when you get to go home and fuck yourself?”

“Please,” you whimper, gripping his arm.

“Do you think of me? I haven’t been able to get you out of my head for months. And now… Now when everyone is here, you’re so desperate for me. It’s torture, baby. Do you want our friends to see? To watch you fall apart beneath me?”

You shake your head, unable to form a coherent sentence. He moves his hand from your swim bottoms and places it back on your thigh.

“Then be patient. You’re my good girl, yeah? I know you can do it.” Dyaln presses a chaste kiss to your lips and stands from the pool. He chats with Marcus as he heads the grill, then collects empty glasses to bring inside. Your head is spinning as you get up and make your way to the bathroom, being sure to detour your route to brush past him a little too closely.

It’s a mostly bare room, walls hosting a couple of pieces of Mets memorabilia and not much else. Your reflection looks far less wild than you feel internally, the warm lightbulb making you look a little jaundiced. Your heart is pumping faster than it has since you met Dylan and you steady yourself on the counter. Desperately, one hand snakes into your bottoms and you’re hit with a rush of sensitivity. A few targeted rubs cause your orgasm to wash over you like a dam break. Your fingers stutter when it hits, body falling over on itself while your lonely pussy clenches around nothing. Your bottom lip is between your teeth, muffling any cries that manage to escape. Dylan’s fingers and voice were nearly enough as is, but the reality of fucking him was dawning on you. It was mere hours away, but the idea of adding them to your 8-month pining streak wasn’t favorable. A sigh of frustration leaves your mouth as you stand there, looking in the mirror and pressing your thighs together. You piss and clean yourself up before making your way back outside. It couldn’t have been more than seven minutes since you stepped in the bathroom, but when you lock eyes with Dylan, you know you’re fucked. He raises his eyebrows at you like you’re both in on a joke. You avert his gaze, embarrassed of how quickly he clocked you, and sit to chat with Jade.

“Hey, so… What’s your plan for the rest of the night?”

“Subtle.” She gives you a knowing glance. “Jen’s got work in the morning and Marcus and Tyler are going to a concert tonight. So… we’ll probably head out not too late after dinner. Got plans? More pool canoodling?”

“Fuck off.” You clear your throat. “Well, yeah. Actually. I think.”

She grins at you. “I’m tellin’ ya, your tits look–”

“Food’s ready!” Tyler calls from the grill, clicking the tongs together.

You gather around where the plate of kebabs sat on the bar counter, across the circle from Dylan. Over dinner you learn they’re seeing A Day to Remember tonight, followed by an apology for needing to dip so soon.

“No problem, man,” Dylan assures, but he’s looking at you when he says it.

Once full, everyone helps by collecting plates and glasses and stacking them near the dishwasher. Marcus loads the dishes in while you, Jen, and Jade change into dry undergarments and fresh clothes. Tyler lost, found, and lost his keys again within the span of three minutes, causing everyone to search tables and between couch cushions. Dylan’s antsy, grumbling about how Tyler’s shit memory is the weed’s fault, until Jenny finds them. Once his keys are in-hand, your friends gather their things and file up at the door to leave. Maybe it was because you were experiencing the same anticipation, but Dylan seemed to rush the group out, saying something about getting to the concert in time to get merch without ridiculously long lines.

You go to the kitchen, leftover alcohol-soaked fruit calling your name from the empty sangria pitcher. You hear everyone bid their farewells one at a time as you fish a fork from the drawer near the sink. The citrus was cut a little too thin for your liking, courtesy of Dylan’s knife skills, and slipped off the tip of the fork each time you tried impaling it. It’s fine, the apple chunks absorb wine best anyway. You are on chunk three by the time you hear the door shut.

Once the door is locked, Dylan makes his way into the room and points in your direction.

“You,” he says, walking towards you.

“Me.” You poke into a piece of apple and wave the fork in his direction. He doesn’t look like he’s in the mood for your shenanigans, but you poke the fruit between his lips anyway. His face doesn’t move and he grabs your wrist to tilt it away from his face. You accept your defeat and pop the apple chunk into your mouth instead. No need to waste it.

“What did I say about being patient?” His hands rest comfortably on your hips and he pulls you close. You don’t know what you were expecting, maybe some more back and forth, but it certainly wasn’t getting straight to the point.

“I’ve been patient, Dylan.” You put the fork down and place your hands on his biceps. Your eyes are wide as you look up at him, hoping to charm him into fucking you now.

“Mmm… I don’t know.” He starts to press kisses to your neck. “You were in the bathroom for a while…”

Your face flushes with blood. “It was like, five minutes. Dylan… please.” You avoid verbally confirming his suspicions of what you were doing in that time.

“You don’t need to hide from me.” He bites down hard enough to leave a mark, then licks the sting away. “But that’s not fair, is it?”

“Dylan.”

He pulls back from your neck to look at you, brown eyes dark under the soft lamp light. “Do you want to cum tonight?” It catches you by surprise, wide eyed watching him closely. “I said, that’s not fair, is it?” You blink, nod, then furiously shake your head. “Let me hear it.”

“No, it’s not fair. I’m sorry.” It takes everything not to squeeze your thighs together for some relief.

“Haven’t even had a taste yet and you’re helping yourself. I thought you were going to be good for me.”

“I am, Dylan, I promise.” Your hand moves from his arm to the nape of his neck, pulling at the short hairs that reside there. The game continues, and you can’t tell if you’re winning or losing right now.

His lips press messily on yours. One of his hands travels from your torso to cup your core outside of your shorts. “You gonna keep touching yourself, baby? Or are you gonna let me handle it?”

“I’m gonna let–” your breath catches when he applies hard pressure over your center. “You, please.” You’re fighting the urge to pass out, breaths shallow and labored.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, all along? You could’ve told me, angel; I would’ve done it for you.” He’s reaching under your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your stomach as his fingers find one of your nipples. “You think I’ll live up to your imagination? Tell me, baby, how hard do you think I can make you cum?” You let out a strangled groan, senses overwhelmed by his hands and voice. “Wish I thought of getting you hot and half-naked in my yard sooner. Didn’t know that’d be what did it.”

“At the risk of getting another lecture on patience, could you politely get on with it?”

He removes his hand from your cunt to hold your jaw. His lips are in a sweet pout. “Honey… you’ve got a lot to learn.” You’re unmoving, unsure of what he has planned. “Tell me what you were thinking about.” All the blood in your body feels like it’s rushing between your face and your pussy, back and forth as the words fall from his lips. His eyes are unrelenting, holding your gaze like a deer caught in a snare.

“Well…” you let out a shaky breath. Your hands spread to the kitchen island behind you as you speak, “Us, right here.” Dylan’s still stoic, seemingly unaffected by your confession. The game was just getting fun, even if your mind was screaming to tap out, go home, figure out another way. You can hear your heartbeat conducting through the bones in your head and feel it pumping all the way to your fingertips. You’re trying to focus on the man whose face is mere inches from yours, the way he’s touching you, but the thick, heavy pump in your chest overwhelms your senses.

“Go on.” His hand moves from your jaw to your collarbone. “I know that’s not all.”

You’re trying to hide the tremble in your arms as you lean back against the edge of the countertop. “I guess…” You slowly turn 180 degrees, palms flat against the granite and his hot chest flush to your back. His hands remain on your body as you move and travel down your back. They land exactly where you’d envisioned they would. “Something kind of like this.” You raise yourself on your toes, pushing your ass into his crotch and leaning your elbows on the counter for support.

“Kind of?” One hand moves up your back underneath your shirt while the other fiddles with the elastic on your shorts.

“Less clothes, maybe?”

He laughs for the first time since your friends left. “I think I got that part.” His hands move again, this time settling on your outer upper thighs, gripping the area where your legs meet your torso. You don’t know what else to say. He is toying with you, seeing how much humiliation you can bear before begging for some relief. “Feeling shy? That all you wanna tell me?” You gulp and nod. Hopefully it’s enough. His left arm wraps around your torso to lift you to press tight against his chest. His right hand is still firmly on your pelvis, pulling you to rest on his semi. “You don’t need these, do you?” Dylan’s right hand moves to your front, fingers just barely dipping past your waistband.

“No.” It comes out far shakier than you intended.

“Take them off, then.” He releases you from his grip and you’re left supporting your own weight. Your arms and legs feel frail, like they should snap at any moment. You can sense his frame looming behind you, just far enough that you’re unable to touch him. Your clammy fingers wrap around your waistband and gently slide the shorts over the curve of your ass and down your legs. They fall to the floor with a gentle swish. After all the dreaming, three quarters of a year’s worth of thoughts kept between you and your bedside drawer, you feel unsure of what to do next. The anxieties of fumbling your course of action disappear as you hear Dylan drop to his knees and use a firm hand to spread you apart. You’re trying to steady your breathing, or at least reduce the noise you’re making, as he pulls your underwear to the side. “Hm.” Hm? “You put these on, like, half an hour ago. Already pr’soaked through.” Your head falls into your hands.

“Dylan.”

“Yeah, angel?” His fingers are gentle in their prodding, spreading your arousal to the outer edges of your cunt. “You’re real pretty.” He glides his wet thumb once over your clit, causing you to twitch into him.

“Please.”

“Please what?” He taps your leg and pulls a stool from your left. You’re fucking kidding. You appreciate the extra support as you lift your knee to the plush seat. With the new angle, he’s able to fully spread you with two fingers.

“I–anything, Dylan, please just touch me.” He blows air over your sensitive core and as much as you try to restrain yourself, your body betrays you. Your hole pulsates at the stimulus, as minor as it was. He circles your entrance with his thumb like he’s trying to calm the area, hysterically clenching and grasping, begging for his fingers.

“I know, it’s not fair.” He pulls your underwear back to its proper place and pulls your leg down to stand. This is retribution. The game is sick, you’ve come to learn.

He stands up and turns you around, fingers holding your hips beneath your waistband. Your hands are pressed to his stomach. “You’re evil.” He smiles at that, proud of his ability to get you so distraught with nothing more than a few words and fingers.

“You don’t mean that.” He moves a hand to cradle your face.

You nod. “I do mean it.” For all your begging to God to make this moment happen, you still need to beg Dylan to give it to you.

“I keep my promises, baby.” He helps you sit up on the counter and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna win.” He kisses you deep and slow, strong hands shifting your hips to hang off the edge of the granite. One of your arms is locked around his neck holding you flush to him. Your right hand ghosts the waistband of his swim trunks before pulling the drawstring out of its knot. He grunts when your hand brushes his clothed cock as you pull the shorts down his legs. He pulls your hands from his body and holds them on the countertop behind you, pressing himself into your core as he licks the inside of your teeth. Your ankles lock behind his back and press him further into you. You groan into each other's mouths as you rock against each other. He’s calculated in his thrusts, snapping his hips right as your cunt rocks over him. The friction against your sensitive little nub pulls the strings in your abdomen tight, soon to snap. You attempt to break free from his grasp to no avail. Your movements stutter as every swipe feels like it’s shooting electricity up your spine.

“Ah, please, harder. Please!” Your legs tremble as your orgasm begins to overcome you. Dylan steps back from your body abruptly, the force of his movement unclasping your ankles and leaving them without support. Your hands are still held flat on the counter, keeping you from touching him. His eyes are dark, lips swollen and open from his labored breathing. You’re frustrated, shaking and reeling from your almost-completion. “What the f–!”

“Don’t move.” He pulls his hands from yours. He moves your thighs to spread you open for him again. He palms your cunt over your underwear, pressing firmly as you squirm beneath him. “You think I’m gonna make this easy on you?”

“Clearly not,” you huff.

“You haven’t made it easy on me either, angel.”

“Is this some sort of sick revenge for you?” You regret your rebuttal as soon as he stops the circling of his palm.

“You love it. Swear to God…” He pulls your underwear aside again, reviewing his work. You are glistening everywhere, cunt clenching and dripping for him. “Just need the right person.” He places the underwear back where it belongs. “Are you feeling tired, angel? Spent all afternoon lounging in the sun and now here I am, taking care of you, and you’re still unhappy?” He caresses your face, but keeps his hard dick away from your core. “Tell me, baby, do you really think I’m evil?”

“No.” You’re overwhelmed, and maybe he is evil, but you have one goal in mind. “I want you to fuck me,” you say bluntly.

He chuckles. “You only had to say so.”

He pulls you off the counter and tugs you to his bedroom with him, leaving your discarded shorts on the kitchen floor. He’s not so coy here, open mouth on yours and hands tugging to remove your shirt. You assumed it’d be more of a marathon than a sprint with Dylan, but he had you completely naked, lying on the bed within two minutes. He was a gentleman, of course, stripping himself of his underwear to match your level of vulnerability. You try to keep your focus on his face, but his red-hot cock pressing into your thigh is understandably making it difficult.

“You’re gonna tell me what you like, okay angel?” He slips a finger between your folds, collecting your wetness and rubbing your clit vertically like he was in the pool. You nod. “How’s that?”

“Mm… it’s good.”

“Just good?”

“A little to the right maybe? My right?” He shifts slightly, finding the spot you use to make yourself cum. You cover your mouth with your hand as he uses the tip of his finger to gently brush over the area, sending shockwaves through your body. You were already so sensitive from your denied orgasm, you had no clue what you were capable of handling.

“Better.” It’s not a question, but you nod anyway. He continues, kissing up your neck and telling you to relax. “Remember, I got you. I’m gonna make you feel good, okay? I’m here to make you feel good.”

“Ah..!” You twitch away from his hand from the hypersensitivity. “Uh-huh. You got me.”

His finger moves from your clit to your pulsing little hole, circling it and spreading your wetness slowly. It wasn’t going to make you cum on its own, but it still felt divine. “Can I taste?”

“Please,” you beg.

“So needy for me.” He bites your breast on his way down. “My needy baby. How long have you been dreamin’ about me, angel?” He’s kissing your inner thigh, waiting for a response to his question.

You’re honest. “Forever. Since I met you.” The words rush out with your breath, uneven. You sit up and look at him, big brown eyes and pink lips mere inches from where you wanted him.

“Forever,” he mumbles into your skin. “You did a good job keeping it to yourself for the first few months.”

“I’m glad I don’t anymore.”

“And why’s that?” He’s smiling up at you, far too goofy for being between your aching legs.

“Ugh. I take it back.” You groan and lie back down on the bed.

“Okay, okay…” He taps your clit with his thumb. “You still gotta tell me what you like, okay?”

“Okay.” You reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair as he swipes his broad, flat tongue over your cunt. You can’t help the noise that comes out of your mouth, nor the clench of your pussy that he certainly felt against his tongue. He circles your clit, saliva mixing with your own arousal and creating wet noises that are sure to reappear in the fantasies that result from this encounter. You scratch his scalp lightly. “I think vertical is a little better.” He grunts and changes his technique. You squirm at the feeling of his hot, wet tongue pressing onto you, eating like it was his first meal in months. His left arm is wrapped around your leg, hand resting on your lower stomach pulling you to his face. You’re unable to move under his grip, every twitch or flail impeded by his strength. His tongue travels further down to your hole, slipping in and out of it as excruciating intervals. It feels good on its own, but great when coupled with the way his nose brushes against your clit with every pump. “That’s good. That’s so good,” you gasp. Your forearm is clamped between your teeth, muffling your cries.

“You’re close?” The vibration of his words against your cunt cause you to twitch into his mouth.

“Uh-huh.”

“I can feel it.” You tug on his hair, encouraging him to allow you to finish. The way his tongue licks up your pussy, pushing and rubbing firmly against your clit, elicits a choked moan. Again, he pulls back suddenly. You thrash your hips in frustration, letting go of his hair to grip the sheets beneath you. Before you’re able to complain, he presses his wet lips to yours. His tongue tastes like you, tangy and familiar. He settles between your legs, pressing his cock between your folds. Dylan rocks across you, never moving from your lips. The only noises in the room are the wet ones coming from your two points of connection. To regain some semblance of control, you snake your hand down between you to grab his cock. It’s already well lubricated from the way it was nestled in your cunt. He bites down on your lip when you grasp him, losing control for a moment and fucking into your tight fist. Your hand twists around him so your fingers are pressing into the most sensitive part of his cock and your knuckles brush against your core. He’s gasping and biting at your neck as you pump him, clearly wound up after your afternoon of back-and-forth. He’s not distracted for long, as the sweet symphony of your cries tip him off to exactly what you’re doing. “That definitely counts as touching yourself, angel,” he says while pulling your hand away from where your bodies meet. You’re frustrated, body brought so close and kept so far from your release for what felt like hours.

“Can you blame me?” Your breathing is heavy; your eyes are looking into his for an ounce of mercy. He only holds your gaze for a moment before sitting back on his knees and scanning your body, saving its image for his own lonely nights.

“No,” he says, caressing your thigh. “Definitely not. Roll over.” You do, making the decision not to press your hips into the bed for a twinge of relief. Dylan is being needlessly cruel, but the end has to be near. You can be good; you can do it for him, give him what he likes. You never thought you’d see this side of him, domineering, competent, and so incredibly sexy. It was almost worth the eight months of fumbling and awkward quasi-flirting–given that he actually lets you finish. The game was fun, but you both knew the feeling of clenching around him with stars behind your eyelids was infinitely better. He sighs as he pulls your hips up off the bed, finally ready to play fair. Gently, he pulls your legs apart. His fingers are no longer exploratory; his purpose is explicit as he swipes his thumb against your clit at a casual pace. His middle finger circles your hole so lightly it feels like a tickle. “This okay?” He presses onto your entrance, but doesn’t push in. “Jus’ wanna see…”

“Yes,” you say, voice muffled by the sheets pressing against your face.

“Wanna know what you feel like,” he continues, talking to nobody but himself. His middle finger slides in easily. “Jesus.” Your body is ecstatic to finally have something to tremble around. “Why y’been keeping this from me, baby?” He pumps slowly, rotating his wrist to push down on your g-spot. His thumb still rubs across your clit in an almost excruciating manner. You’re lubricated and loose enough to allow him to put his index finger into the mix, your cunt grasping and twitching around him.

“I could say the same thing,” you sigh. Your arms are outstretched to hold onto the mattress for support as you move your hips to softly fuck onto his fingers. He’s motionless, fingers curled and allowing you to use him for your pleasure. It’s good, it’s building, but it doesn’t fill you right. “Dylan?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not gonna let me cum on your fingers, are you?”

“Absolutely not.” His thumb picks up speed on your clit, continuing to play with you, to challenge you. Your breath hitches, sheets between your teeth.

“Please, Dylan, I think I’ve learned my lesson.” You clench around his fingers, hoping to entice him for just long enough to want to know how his cock would feel inside of you. A soft groan escapes his throat. You’re warm and soft and wet, perfect and ready for his pretty pink dick. “I need you to fill me up. Please, I can’t–“ You’re interrupted by your own pleasure, shooting it’s way up your body as he presses into your g-spot and taps your clit in unison.

“You need me that bad? Been waiting for so long, haven’t you?” He purrs and removes his hands from your center. Despite the shakiness in your thighs and the beat of your cunt, relief washes over you.

“Please. So bad.” Dylan pushes your lifted hips back down onto the bed and lies overtop of you.

“Okay,” he says while tucking your stray hair behind your ear. He’s looking at you–really looking at you for the first time since your friends left. You wish you knew what his eyes were searching for. He’s the same Dylan he’s always been, but it’s different. His tousled hair was your doing, as were his kiss-bitten lips and the haziness behind his eyes. You soak it all in on the off-chance this is a fluke, that you’ll never find yourself here again. He rubs the underside of your thigh as you hook your ankles over his back. “Are you ready?” His tone is softer than it’s been in nearly an hour.

“Yes.” He aligns himself with your entrance and gently presses into you.

“Ah, relax…” He braces himself on one hand, placed to the left of your head. His other hand grips your side. He continues to inch himself into you, eyes watching your face to gauge your comfort. You’re gripping his shoulders, trying not to dig your nails into his skin. “It’s okay, relax, I got you.”

“Okay, okay,” you whisper as he bottoms out inside of you. He grunts, pressing in as much as he can and holding it, pubic mound pressing to your clit. He partially pulls out, then pushes himself back in. Air escapes through your teeth as you cling harder to him, no longer giving a damn if you mark him or not. He fills you just like you hoped he would: to the brim until it stung with pleasure.

“Fuck.” Dylan finds a comfortable pace to allow you to get used to him, mumbling expletives and replacing his faded bite mark on your neck. “So wet for me.” You use the leverage from your locked ankles to meet his thrust midway, pushing him even deeper into your core. You squeak with every scrape against your g-spot, bottom lip clamped firmly between your teeth. His hips quicken their pace as his lips press to yours. You feel a shift behind your head, then Dylan pulls back. “Up,” he says, tapping your hip. He slides a pillow, silk case and all, underneath your ass to provide him with better access. He pushes your leg up so your knee is near your head and holds it there as he begins to roll into you. His head pokes into your g-spot at the same cadence of the skin of his lower stomach scraping against your sensitive clit. Your pussy clings to him each time he pulls out; its only purpose is to milk him dry. The adam’s apple in his throat bobs as he watches himself disappear within you. “Jesus Christ, how are you still so tight?” It rushes out of him in one breath. You tug him back down, needing to feel his chest on yours as he brings you, finally, to your completion. Every thrust feels like it’s stretching the rubber band in your stomach further and further, its elasticity painfully endless.

“Ah, yeah, like that.” You can feel your cunt gripping him, pulling at him as he hammers into you. “Don’t stop, please, Dylan, please,” you cry, holding on for dear life as his thrusts begin to shake the bed.

“I know, I know,” he coos. “Me too, baby.” All his weight is on the elbow by your head, spare hand on your hip to hold you still as he stutters into you. The pit of your stomach feels like you’re on a roller coaster lift, up, up, up until–

“Oh, my God.” Your eyes screw shut when it hits you, the pulsations of your cunt reverberating up your torso and through your limbs. Your back arches uncontrollably, stomach pressed to his. Your heart is beating out of your chest, wet and heavy like the cock still pistoning in and out if you.

“You’re so good. Fuck, you’re so good.” It’s muffled in your ears, your overstimulated body focusing on the stretch of his dick and the shakiness in your thighs. He presses himself fully into you and holds it there, a yelp escaping from your lips as he does. “Where?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you choke out. He sits up as he pulls out quickly, though you wouldn’t mind if he didn’t. Next time, maybe. Before he’s able to finish, you grasp and pump him from where his cock rests on your mound. It takes one tight squeeze before he twitches in your fist and ribbons of cum adorn your stomach. He’s holding onto your knee for support, breathing labored. You’re flat on your back, sinking into the mattress to center yourself and organize your thoughts.

“You okay?” He leans over you again, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You nod, a small smile gracing your face as you notice the sweat on his brow. He grins and places another kiss on your mouth before getting up and retrieving a towel from the en suite. He wipes your pussy first, needing to hold you still as the feeling of the towel is still too much, then delicately cleans up your stomach. The towel gets tossed to the floor, a responsibility for another time. The room is dark, but he finds you anyway, pulling you to his chest. “Was it worth the wait?” You laugh, unsure if he was referring to the day or the year.

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?” He feigns offense at your response.

“I need a few more data points before I’m sure.” He scoffs.

“Oh, fuck off,” he laughs and pulls you tighter to him. “You don’t need some elaborate ploy to get me again, baby. I saw you–no, felt you cum so hard; no need to be coy with me.”

“Okay…” You fiddle with the hairs on the back of his neck. “Definitely worth it, but I want it again. And I don’t wanna wait.”

“I can make that happen,” he says while ghosting kisses on your shoulder. You lie comfortably together, skin-on-skin listening to each other breathe. Your mind is a haze of the day’s activities, unsure of what memories you can truly believe.

“Dylan?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“What did you mean when you said I did a good job ‘keeping it to myself for the first few months’?” He laughs and his hand travels down to rest on your ass.

“God, see this is why I couldn’t do anything. You tried making out with me on, like, four separate occasions at Jenny’s birthday party. Very persistent.” You groan as you remember, or more, don’t remember that evening. The first thing you know about Jenny’s party was walking in, already riding the high of a successful pregame, with a bottle of tequila tied with a bow for her, and taking a required shot at the door. The second thing you remember is waking up in Dylan’s spare bedroom the next morning. This was three months ago.

“That… explains a lot.” You hadn’t noticed at the time, far too in awe of Dylan’s attention, but he did act differently as the spring transitioned to the summer. He would sit next to you at group brunch, suggest outings with just the two of you, occasionally get a little handsy, and start peppering pet names in his conversations with you until it became second nature. You weren’t delusional, at least not in the ways you thought you were.

“It’s okay. It’s cute.” He rubs your thigh as he speaks. “It’s funny though, you refused to get in an Uber with Jade to take you home. You literally wouldn’t let go of my hand.”

“So fucking embarrassing.” You cover your eyes with your hand as you cringe at the thought.

“Look where it got you, though.” He pulls your hand from your face and presses a kiss to your lips.

well. that’s it. hope u enjoyed <3 i have some (many) ideas for continuing this soooo maybe that’ll show up soon ;) pls feel free to leave me feedback, like, n reblog!

#dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o’brien smut #dylan o’brien imagine #dylan o’brien x you #so about that fic i promised a few weeks ago…… mama got writers block at 10.3k so i will prob edit and scrap for parts soon #anyway new 5sos (calum. lmao) smut coming soon i promise <3 #dylan o’brien

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laheysdork · 2 years

Text

strangers - stiles stilinski

summary: you decided that he’s a stranger to you a long time ago, but what if tragedy strikes and the only person that could help you is him?

word count: 4.8k

warnings: cursing, fights, angst, slight fluff, vomit?, a little violence

a/n: so sorry i have been mia for months, i moved out and am finally living (as in not being stuck in my room all the time) i have this enemies-to-lovers fic siting for the longest time in my draft so hope yall like it! the italic bolded ones are flashbacks in case it gets pretty confusing. and i would like to apologize beforehand 🤠

masterlist

Strangers—they’re not always the people we don’t know. Some of them can be by choice, someone we chose to forget.

Sighing at the thought of another dreadful day at school, you drag your feet towards your first class. Your muscle memory kicking in, you pick the seat at the back corner, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible as you wish you can hide under a huge invisible cloak. After dumping your bag onto the floor next to the table, your body lazily sinks into the chair. Shuffling inside the pocket of your hoodie, you take out your phone and click it on, looking at the time.

7.50 A.M.

For once, you are early. Class starts at 8, so you have an extra 10 minutes to waste. As you begin to think about ways to kill the time, you hear two familiar voices growing louder as they enter the class.

You know those voices by heart. The voices that would always cheer you up when you were sad, the voices that continuously came up with jokes every day, but also the same voices that have shattered the only living soul you have left. How could one bring so much joy but also pain?

“Come on, Stiles. Star Wars? Again? Don’t you have any other movies to watch for our weekly movie nights?” you grumbled irritatedly.

“Last week, Scott picked some lame-ass rom-com and forced us to sit through it so this week it’s MY turn for revenge.” He emphasized the ‘my’ and crossed his arms across his chest, smirking at the thought of his genius evil plan.

“Fine, but next week I’m making you watch Spiderman.”

His curled lips dropped flat instantly. “Spiderman? Y/N, you know I am a DC man. Why would you do this to me?” he whined in disbelief which earned a maniacal laugh from you.

“Well, as you said before Stilinski, that is MY turn for revenge.”

Losing yourself in your thoughts, 10 minutes have long passed as the coach abruptly enters the classroom.

“This is the right class, right? Yeah, I think so.” He mumbles to himself as he places his stuff onto the teacher’s desk and clears his throat.

“Since I’m busy today, you will be doing a pair project.”

And the class goes wild.

“Hey, shut up. I’m not done yet.” Coach yells which gradually silences the class.

“Before all of you got too happy, I will be picking the pairs. Some of you depended on other students too much and that is not good.” He shakes his head, trailing off the subject.

“So, uhm, I’m just going to write the pairs on the board and the instructions. While I’m at it, please for the love of God shut your mouth.”

You are surprised. As a generally unlucky person, today doesn’t seem so bad. You won’t have to sit through coach’s lectures for 2 periods, which you consider as a total win.

However, your triumph does not last long as the words written messily on the board haunt you.

Pair 3: Y/F/N Y/L/N, Stiles Stilinski

Fuck-

“Okay, so all you have to do is collect some general information regarding the market structures and make a mind map. Simple. Now, huddle up with your buddies and get to work.”

Even after everyone starts grouping up with their partners, you are still slumped in the corner, not having any sort of will or energy left to interact with Stiles Stilinski.

Thankfully (or not), Stiles decides to make the first move, his silhouette towering your sitting figure. As you strictly look at your phone, a loud screech filled your ears, Stiles noisily dragging a vacant chair next to your table.

“Y/N,” he called in a tone you can’t quite comprehend.

God.

“Yeah,” you replied bluntly, glancing up.

“I- um, I wanted to say-“

“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you.”

In fact, you actually can. Hell, you even know what he’s about to say. But you do not brace yourself for this. You can barely look at him, let alone talk to him.

“Hey, movie night at 7?” You nudged on Stiles' arms, startling him, busy going through a bunch of papers on his desk.

“Uhh, no. I’m busy tonight.” He glanced to you for a second then proceeds to occupy himself.

“Okay, how about tomorrow?”

Missing your best friends, you were determined to get the band back together. Stiles and Scott had been exceptionally busy for the past few days and you were not quite sure why.

At first, you thought maybe it had something to do with the new girl, Allison. Scott seemed to be all over her. But then there was that creepy peculiar guy, Derek, who was borderline stalking them. They started to ditch you alone, running off to some secret mission, and you were tired of it. Why were they keeping it from you? Did they not trust you enough?

“Also busy,” he muttered, his focus still fully on the pile of paper. Your mouth gaped to come up with something that would get them to spend time with you but was interrupted by the ringing of the bell. In a flash, Stiles stood up, aimlessly gathering his papers, and zoomed out of the class, leaving your deadpanned state unattended.

From the widely-opened door, you could see Stiles rushing over to Scott. He told Scott something inaudible unless you got some sort of super-hearing, but from the look on Scott’s face, it must’ve been urgently distressing. Both of them bolted out of the school together without you, once again.

“I’ll do the monopoly and monopolistic competition and you do perfect competition and oligopoly. I’ll draw the mind map after school,” you state clearly and monotonously, wanting to quickly get this over with.

“Y/N, I-“

“Is it unclear?” you snap, rather cold.

“No, but-“

“Okay, then. You better start reading.” You heavily lift your book out of the bag and drop it on top of your table.

“What the hell just happened? Scott? Stiles?”

Your quizzical eyes darted waveringly between the two jittery boys, confused and infuriated.

Earlier, the boys had invited you, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson to come over and study. For a while there, you were hopeful. You thought that this small gathering could be a step closer to things going back to how it was, but displeasingly, you were absolutely mistaken.

“I don’t know, it’s-“

“What kind of lie are you coming up with now huh, Stiles? I know you know something!” you confronted.

“Y/N, we didn’t-“

“Oh, you think I didn’t notice? That guy Derek? Then both of you suddenly went M.I.A for days? And don’t get me started with the ‘Sorry, Deaton needs me at the clinic’ or ‘Sorry, my dad called me, gotta go’. We’ve been friends since we were 10 for fucks sake!”

Gladly the three of you were left alone because you were furiously shouting at this point. Allison offered to drive Lydia home the moment she sensed the unnerving tension between the three of you.

“And now, even after whatever that thing is just almost killed us, you still think I don’t deserve to know the truth?”

You shot the two boys death glares through your teary eyes which they actively try to avoid. They looked miserably guilty, something you currently want them to feel.

“You know what, I’m done. Don’t bother chasing after me to explain. I can just ask Allison.” And with that bitter statement, you left the two stunned boys standing frozen on the front porch.

Both of you are quietly reading through the materials and highlighting the key points. You silently thank Stiles for not trying to initiate another awkward conversation, which probably is caused by your previous intimidation.

Luckily, time seems to fly as the bell rings, indicating the end of the class. Not wanting to spend another second in this hellhole, you immediately left the class.

Following that incident, Stiles and Scott tried to reach you for days. Your phone would constantly light up once every few hours with either Scott’s or Stiles’ name lighting up the lockscreen.

After a week or so, the calls eventually came to a halt. You were relieved the ongoing calls that you have convinced yourself were bothering you stopped. But deep down all those denials, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that they gave up on you so effortlessly.

At the same time, you couldn’t blame them either. You were pretty ruthless.

Things never went back to normal. You avoided them at all cost, stop sitting at their table, vowing to never speak to them ever again.

You knew that keeping grudges would eventually hurt you more than it should but you were headstrong.

They did not trust you. They lied to you. They have made their bed and now you’re just simply letting them sleep on it.

However, this didn’t stop you from being attentive towards them. From time to time, you tried to keep tabs on them by checking in with Allison. But that was until she passed away.

The news left you completely devastated and heartbroken. Even though you were not on good terms with Scott and Stiles, you were still close with Allison.

She was your best friend. She patiently supported you through the heartache of losing your two best friends, she taught you how to stand strong independently, she gave you hope on the brighter days that had yet to come, but most importantly, she trusted you when Scott and Stiles didn’t.

You were also aware of the whole void situation, which pained you more than you thought it would. The thought of the vibrant, eccentric Stiles going through unspeakable agony and remorse wrecked you.

During Allison’s funeral, you decided that letting your distant facade down just for a day to console the pack won’t kill you.

Approaching them after the reception, a surprised look was painted on each of their faces, especially Scott and Stiles. You gave your condolences to everyone and hugged Stiles and Scott, something you haven’t done in ages. Their bodies stiffen from your unexpected action, but soon they melt into the hug and cling onto you tightly, finally accepting that you were really embracing them.

After pulling apart, you excused Scott to give you and Stiles a moment alone.

“Stiles, I know you’re thinking that this is your fault but listen to me, it is not. You were not in control. You were not you. You did not do this.”

Upon hearing comforting words from his long-lost friend, he let out an excruciating sob. Instinctively, you pulled him into your embrace once again as he squeezed you tighter.

You might not be able to forgive him yet but at least you could be there with him through this disastrous nightmare.

The whole day, you try to steer clear of Stiles or the pack. You know he’s trying to get a hold of you, probably wanting to discuss the unfinished project; but we don’t need to add more to the plate, don’t we?

Once school ended, you quickly rush home. From a distance, you can hear Stiles call out your name. But being the excellent evader you claim to be, you ignore them.

Just as you think the day can’t get any worse, the doorbell in your house chimes, indicating a guest present on your doorsteps. You sigh, knowing who is standing behind that door and this time you can’t dodge it.

So much for being an excellent evader.

“What?” you ask, getting straight to the point.

“We haven’t finished our project. I want to help you do the mind map.” He stares at you innocently, fumbling with his hands.

After all these years and he still got those puppy eyes.

“It’s fine, I can do it myself.” You try closing the door but he beats you to it.

“Come on, Y/N. I don’t want you ratting me out to Coach for forced labor, so please just let me in and we’ll work on it together,” he whines, hand still holding the door open.

Even after everything, you still can’t bring yourself to decline him. You have always had a soft spot for Stiles, which you are planning to terminate because it is starting to be troublesome.

“Fine,” you grunt in defeat.

A favorable grin is plastered on his face as he steps into your house.

Things seemed to change after Allison’s death. You noticed fresh faces joining the pack while familiar ones went away.

But out of the several new members, one had caught your eye the most. Her name’s Malia if you’re not mistaken; a snarky brunette, who’s built like a model too by the way.

From what you could tell from the persistent PDA, she was dating Stiles. Yeah, you weren’t exactly in a position to have a say on it, but you were getting real sketchy vibes from her, or so you thought.

“Stiles, you’re still coming over right?” you heard Malia speak to your ex-best friend as you opened your locker across from them.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll teach you maths too since you’re so bad at it.” You tried not to overhear their conversation but you just couldn’t help it.

“Thanks. You’re the best!” she cried out as she treaded away from Stiles, a pang striking your chest.

Maybe, you’re just slightly jealous.

Okay, slightly was an understatement.

It seemed like you’re still unable to completely erase your suppressed attraction towards him, even when clearly he had.

To minimize any sort of unnecessary interaction, you try to fully put your focus on the project—which works. For the past 15 minutes, the two of you are settled in your living room in silence, minding your own business.

At least until Stiles decides to be clumsy and drop his plastic cup, water spilling all over the floor. You roll your eyes and grab a cloth from the kitchen to clean up the mess.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he curses under his breath as you are drying up the floor.

“It’s fine.”

No actually, it’s not. This situation right here is not fine. You’ve had the shittiest day at school and to make it even worse, Stiles decides to show up uninvitedly at your house which is supposedly your only stress-free zone.

“I’ll help you clean it up.” He squats down, trying to get the cloth from your grip.

“No, you don’t have to.” You don’t want him to cause any more inconvenience, even though you know very well he doesn’t mean it.

“I want to help Y/N, I-“

“What, Stiles? You want to help? Then please for the love of God, leave me alone!” You stand up and snap at him, a bit too loudly. You feel bad for being too hard on him when he’s only trying to help, but you’re unable to extinguish your growing anger.

He straightens up, his once warm face turn into an enraged frown.

“Is this still about what happened back then? Fuck, Y/N. I’ve said sorry, Scott has, thousands of times. But you still don’t want to forgive us. So tell me now Y/N, what should I do, huh?”

The sudden increase in his volume catch you by surprise. He has always been so radiant and carefree, you have never seen him this mad. But despite that, the rage inside of you still does not subdue.

You let out a humorless chuckle.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Stiles. You think that I get to choose not to forgive you, that I’m the evil one and maybe I am at some point. But don’t you dare pull the victim card here.”

Your sight becomes blurry as your eyes start to sting from all the overwhelming emotions but you can care less.

“You lied to me. You left me alone, confused, scared, even after knowing very well how my mom lied to me about my father abandoning me. You know how much I relied on you and Scott, but you still broke my trust. You hurt me. And you think a bunch of “sorry”s will immediately fix that? It’s not that simple, Stiles.”

You’re not screaming as loud as you did before. The tone of your voice softens as a new emotion takes control over your body—pain.

Frustrated, Stiles rummages through his hair while letting out a scoff.

“But it’s not just a bunch of “sorry”s isn’t it? We kept on calling you after that day. We tried approaching you at school. Fuck, I even tried to be nice to you earlier today. But guess what I got in return? Another silent treatment. Why can’t you just fucking move on already? You’re being too overdramatic. No wonder your mom lied to you.”

Bang. His words hit you like a bullet, piercing right through your heart.

Your once agape mouth closes shut, your furrowed eyebrows straighten. Stiles has crossed the line this time.

“Get out,” you spat, emotionless.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to-“

“I SAID GET OUT, STILES,” you yell at the top of your lungs, frightening him. With horror painted all over his face, he immediately picks up his bag and exits your house, too frightened to say anything else.

As the door shuts, more tears start to flow down your cheeks. You are exhausted. Today’s fiascos have drained every ounce of energy you have left, leaving you like a corpse.

After getting your lifeless, sickly self to shower, you directly plop into your bed, curling yourself in the soft quilt of your blanket. Needing an escape from this dreadful reality, you flutter your eyes shut, instantaneously falling asleep.

You wake up to your accustomed alarm, growling at the blaring sound you set. Finally having enough will to get out of bed, you head to your bathroom.

Turning on the lights, your reflection in the mirror stares back at you.

Gosh, you look dead.

Your skin is as pale as a sheet, your eyes are puffy with prominent dark circles forming under them, your hair is messy and icky. You feel disgustingly terrible.

Dabbing a whole lot of concealer on your skin, you get ready for school; deciding to put whatever catastrophe that had happened yesterday behind you.

Fortunately, you only have one class with Stiles for the day. The day goes by pretty fast and to your delight, pretty decent too, probably because you spend a few periods in the infirmary.

But again, the universe seems to find so much pleasure in inflicting pain on you.

Midway through the class, a sharp sting strikes your head. Interrupting Mr. Yukimura, you excuse yourself to leave the class.

As you reach the empty halls, you feel an eerie sensation creeping all over your body. Alarmed for some reason you don’t know, you scan the halls hastily. You can see nothing, but you do hear something. A bug-like, rattling noise gradually fills your ears, followed by a raspy, unearthly wheeze.

What the fuck is happening?

You’re shivering, cold sweats covering your body. Not being able to stand the unknown terrors, you abruptly sprint to the vacant locker room.

Bad idea. Should’ve picked a more crowded room.

Securing yourself in a room alone definitely does not make you feel any safer. The rattling has stopped but the ominous feeling only grew more prominent.

You are about to escape before sudden nausea hits you. Before you knew it, your knees drop to the floor, your throat retching, vomiting a slimy, ink-like substance.

Now you are horrified.

The door to the locker room flies open, showing two familiar figures. Their eyes find your unusually glowing whiskey-colored ones.

“Fuck, she’s one of them,” Stiles spoke, eyes fixated only on you.

Scott rushes over to you as Stiles stands still, trying to let the sight in front of him sink in. While bracing your fragile body to a steady sitting position, Scott checks in on you with a few “are you okay?”s to which you shake your head.

“What is happening to me, Scott?” you question, panic in your eyes.

After hearing a very complicated and detailed explanation about chimeras and the dread doctors, you are left speechless in front of all the members of the pack who came running right away at the bad news a while ago when you were still seated frozen in a shocked haze.

“Okay so, let me summarize everything,” you mutter so softly to the point it sounds like a whisper while standing up, Stiles hands instinctively finding your body to support you.

“I am a chimera, which is a scientifically-made supernatural creature. The dread doctors, the psychos who are behind this, are going to take me away,” you enunciate to the pack—more like to yourself—to prove your understanding of the matter in which Scott nods in return.

He then tries to come up with a plan to save you from being taken, but you’re not really listening.

Even though you look composed, you are actually on edge, occasionally convincing yourself that everything is under control.

From the very little you heard, basically, they plan on keeping you here in the locker room for the rest of the day—something to do with the telluric currents.

After the plan is finalized, everyone departs for their appointed roles, leaving only one person behind to watch over you.

Out of everyone in the pack, why him?

“I have a spare shirt in my locker, do you maybe want to change into them?” Stiles pointed to your now stained white T-shirt.

You are about to refuse the boy’s offer but looking at the matching black splatter on your shirt and the floor makes you feel queasy, so you comply.

“Okay, we’ll go to the boy’s locker room and leave this mess here.”

“We should clean it-“

“No, you’re not in the state to do any work. I’ll ask someone to clean it up later.” He grabs your arm and leads you out the door to the boy’s locker room, which is no different than the girl’s, pretty disappointing.

Stiles rummages his locker for a second before handing his grey shirt to you.

You stare at him, waiting for him to give you some privacy to change your clothes. But it seems like he isn’t getting the memo.

“What?” he blurts so blatantly as you sigh in return.

Oh God has he always been this slow?

“Are you planning on cheating on Malia? Because I’m about to change here and unless you’re blind, you’re going to have to see me pretty much naked.” His jaw drops at your snarky remark. His face growing warmer as it’s tinted with a crimson color.

“O-Oh yeah, of course. I’m no longer dating Malia though but uhh that’s not important. I’ll turn around- Or do you want me to leave the room? I can do that.” He fidgeted, totally taken aback and flustered.

“Don’t leave me alone, please. Just turn around.”

Both of you are astonished by your statement. But it’s the truth. Alone, you were petrified. At least being with Stiles makes you feel a little more secure.

Just a day ago you were shouting for him to leave, but now you practically begged him to stay. How ironic.

After you have changed into his cozy oversized shirt which for the record smells like his aftershave that you liked, you keep away your dirty shirt, sit on the bench beside him, and thank him.

Once again, silence befalls the both of you. The air between you two today has somehow shifted from yesterday. It’s still thick and tensed, but not full of rage and resentment.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he mutters after a while with his head low.

“Stiles-“

“No, I have to say it. You were right. I was so stupid. I should have never blamed you for not being able to trust me. I’ve hurt you, Y/N, and I deserve this.” His regretful honey eyes are fixed deeply into yours.

Despite the guilt building up inside your body, you do not reply to him straight away. You need time to process this.

Are you still mad at him? Yes. But do you feel bad for being mean towards him? Also yes.

As you are contemplating, the door to the locker room swings open, revealing Scott and the others.

Liam is clutching a large navy duffel bag in his hand, its contents still a mystery to you. Lydia and a man who you aren’t familiar with are carrying a bunch of radio transmitters. Malia is holding a steel bat, which later on is passed over to Stiles.

Once they are all inside, they start to get busy. Lydia, Stiles, and the guy—Parrish, according to what you heard the pack calls him—go around the room, placing the equipment all over it. Malia and Liam are near the door, pushing the shelves to cover all the exits except the main one. And Scott is hovering over the duffel bag which was placed earlier on the bench across you.

He slowly zips the bag open, inspecting it. Being your inquisitive self, you lift your head up to get a better view. But before you get a sight of anything, Scott zips it back close and takes it with him.

After everyone’s done with their designated tasks, they all gather to form a small circle, yourself included.

“Okay, Lydia and Parrish, you two stay in the car outside. Malia and Liam, stand by in the halls. Me, Stiles, and Y/N will stay here. Got it?” Scott instructs clearly to which everybody nods and proceed to their assigned areas.

All of them seem so prepared as if they are properly equipped for battle, except you.

Minutes have passed as there is no sign of the dread doctors. You are sitting quietly on the bench, fumbling with your fingers as Stiles and Scott pace around the room.

Your eyes darted from the two mobile boys to the duffel bag resting on the bench in front of you. Now, you’re curious.

When Scott isn’t looking, you swiftly slide to the opposite bench and zip the bag open, uncovering a bunch of weighty chains.

“What are these for?” Your voice echoes through the noiseless room, earning glances from them both.

“I brought them, just in case.” Scott moves closer to where you are.

“In case of what?” You don’t quite understand what he is implying.

“In case we have a chance to catch one of them,” Scott answered composedly.

“What?” Stiles snaps from behind Scott.

“If we can’t make the school a fortress, maybe we can make it a trap.” Scott’s attempt to explain to the two of you only receives a scoff of disbelief from Stiles.

“And you’re making her the bait?” he questions sharply.

“That’s not what I said-“

“Yeah, right.” Stiles rolls his eyes as Scott glances over to you, an apologetic look plastered on his face.

You don’t know what to feel about this situation. Yes, you are hurt that Scott possibly considered you as bait. But rationally, he does have a point. At the same time, you are also impressed at Stiles' initiative to immediately defend you.

“Wait a minute, I hear something. I’ll go out and check it. You two stay here.” Before any of you can protest, Scott fleets out of the room.

And then there’s two. Awkward silence once again engulfs the two of you. But this time, you’re the one who breaks it.

“Thank you, for defending me,” you utter gently as he sat beside you.

“Of course, Y/N. Always. I will always protect you.” He grasps your hands into his, giving you a reassuring smile, relieved that you finally drop your cold exterior.

The long-awaited moment of truce you two are sharing is sadly interrupted by the familiar rattling noise that unexpectedly appeared, causing you to stand up, followed by Stiles.

“Stiles, I hear them,” you quiver, fear rushing through your body.

“Me too. Hey, Scott?” He forms a half-circle using his palms, cupping them around this mouth. He continues to call out his best friend’s name a few more times before he retreats.

“Where the fuck is he?” Exasperated and worried, he restlessly gazes around the room.

“They’re coming, Stiles.” Feeling hopeless and discouraged, you put your hand on his shoulder, trying to calm his agitated body. You have accepted your fate. They’re taking you away.

“No, I’m not letting them take you.” His hands caress the sides of your arms, tears forming in his eyes.

“They will.” Your palms cup his face, thumb wiping away the warm teardrops streaming down his cheeks.

Mirroring your actions, he also cups your cheeks, staring at the little details of your face, memorizing them like it’s the last time he’ll get to be close to you.

Then he tilts his head and leans closer, shutting the distance between your lips. Fluttering your previously widened eyes shut, your lips passionately brushed along his plump ones as your hands fall from his cheeks to his chest, heart pounding loudly, warmth radiating throughout your body.

Just as he initiated it, he pulls away, honey eyes never leaving yours.

“I will find you, okay?” You nod as shadows appear behind Stiles’ figure.

The dread doctors.

He also sensed their presence as he immediately snatches his bat from the bench. He commands you to stay behind him which you obey.

Cowering behind Stiles’ figure, they have the two of you cornered and helpless. He tightens his grip and aggressively swings his bat at one of them but to no avail. Inching closer, they shove him away, grabbing a hold of both your arms.

You’re hysterically crying out for help, vigorously attempting to break free. Forcefully holding you still, they jab a sharp needle to the side of your neck as your limp body dropped to the ground. Your vision turns dark, the last thing you see is Stiles’ unconscious body lying in front of you.

1K notes · View notes

stargirlfics · 2 years

Text

Night Fever

Dylan O’Brien x Black Reader

Summary: Dancing the night away with your favorite person and being a tease while you’re at it

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of alcohol, established relationship, smut: fingering, praise kink, voice kink, unprotected sex, light hair pulling, creampie

Word Count: 2.3k

The cool nighttime breeze was welcome on your skin as your body swayed to the bass of the music filling the air, the hum of bodies around you making the space feel alive, vibrant.

Condensation from the drink in your hand dripped down to your wrist but you didn’t mind, because the way a pair of hands gripped your waist was more than enough to keep your thoughts preoccupied on the man you were here with tonight, Dylan.

It wasn’t just the sweet cocktail making you feel warm, no, your date had drawn you in closer, your front pressed against his snugly as you moved, letting him lead you, trying your best not to think the thoughts already popping into your head at the eye contact you now held with him.

This was headed into very familiar and dangerous territory, both of you no strangers to this kind of quiet foreplay. Many get-togethers and parties had started and ended just like this, you and him caught in an embrace on the dance floor, steadily headed towards saying your goodbyes to your friends early and racing home to be alone.

Tonight would be no different. Not with the sparkly look in your eyes, and the way your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers pressing into his muscles just a tad suggestive.

“Behave.” The words left his lips in warning, that slight scolding edge to his voice making you smile, you wondered if he knew how badly that made you want to do the opposite.

“Why? I haven’t even done anything!” you roll your eyes playfully, a laugh held back when he spins you around so you’re facing away from him, his hips nudged against yours, lips next to your ear.

“Yet. So behave and I won’t have to make you wait for what you want.”

The slight register of shock on your face made Dylan grin. If you wanted to tease, so could he.

It was a challenge you both knew you’d accept, making it a point to circle your hips a little, grinding your ass back against his front, heat spreading across your spine at the way his hands moved down to grip the side of your thigh, his fingertips left a trail of goosebumps on your pretty brown skin where they caressed.

The song playing ends and fades into another, one with a heavier, dirtier beat, and it encourages you. Sure he could threaten, sure you knew he could very well back up his words but tonight you had your own agenda running and you had all the right cards in your hands.

“Come on, baby. Don’t you wanna fuck me?” was all it took. Your body pressed up a little more against his, an all too knowing edge to your voice that made him want to bend you over right there and then.

It wasn’t long before your hand was in his, letting him weave you through the crowd to let the group you came with know you were headed out.

Stifled were your giggles as you climbed into the car, very pleased with yourself though Dylan made it clear he was still going to make you wait, evidently there would be no teasing touches offered on the ride back home.

You pouted at the realization but sat back in your seat without a fuss, you’d be rewarded soon enough. And this gave you ample time to just gaze at him, admiring the way his arms and hands looked on the steering wheel, the peek of his chest through the tank top and open button down he wore tonight, how his other hand came up to smooth through his beard, everything about him sparking up your arousal.

Despite him holding back, Dylan enjoyed when you got like this, enjoyed watching you sink further into your desires, your fantasies, his ego softly boosted by your need for him.

The tension was thick as you arrived home, hands laced together again as he came around to open your door, leading you inside, the two of you silent but saying everything with your eyes at the same time, now faced towards one another as the door closed and locked behind you.

Finally.

“C’mere…” he beckoned to you with a short wave of his fingers, a broad hand stretched out to cup your face when you stepped closer.

Time seemed to slow the more the distance between you diminished, your nose brushing against his as his thumb swept over your cheek softly, such a contrast to the filthy things he thought of doing to you.

You weren’t sure when you started to kiss or how long it had been but you didn’t care, happy to be lost in his touch, in the taste of his lips, the slight tang of beer still on his tongue.

The exchange of smiles and breathy laughs in between the kisses made you want him even more as you and Dylan stumbled through the hallway. Your lips kiss swollen as his hold on you came to rest on your hips, guiding you to his bedroom.

It was amongst your favorite places, the soft plush of his bed, just being in his space in general. A lazy smile on your face when you’re sat at the foot of the bed, leaning back to let him kiss and touch as he pleased.

Your legs parted for him to stand between when his leg nudged against yours, the soft sigh the very sound he was looking for as his mouth lowered to kiss your neck while his fingers found the skin of your inner thigh, brushing, squeezing, wanting to warm you up, withhold just a second longer before sliding them to where you wanted them most.

The bottom of your dress was already wrinkled and bunched up at your hips, giving him the access he wanted.

“There she is,” he hummed, watching you grind against his fingers, his own body reacting to the way the fabric of your underwear dampened beneath his touch.

His lips shifted back to yours, muffling your little whimpers and moans. This was exactly what you’d been waiting, hoping for tonight and it showed, your panties now tugged to the side because he was too impatient, too wound up to slip them off you.

You let your legs fall open a little more, lifting them up to give him better access as you leaned back further, letting your forearms and elbows support you.

“Please, baby, I want you so bad.” your words quickly turned to a high gasp when his fingers moved from your clit to tease lower, gathering your arousal onto the pads of his fingers just to bring them back up to swirl around your clit again.

“Mm I can see that, you’re such a mess already. I bet I could just-” the amused edge to his voice had you rocking your hips up almost on their own accord, another little gasp leaving your lips when he slowly nudged his middle finger inside.

Eyelids fluttered but you didn’t dare close them, not wanting to look away from him, the way his hand looked working you open with his ring finger added now, how dirty the eye contact was between you and him, all of it had you melting against the duvet.

Dylan couldn’t help but be a little selfish then, drawing out the movement of his fingers just to watch you respond to him, in love with the shape your mouth makes when you cry out at the angle of his fingers when he strokes over a spot, showing you that he knows your body like his own.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous you know that?” The husk to his voice made goosebumps rise along your chest, a whimper and a nod the only response you could muster as he moved his wrist a little quicker, heated kisses placed on your legs as your hips found the rhythm he set, rocking against his hand steadily.

It’s exactly the relief you had wanted, every thrust of his fingers tempering the ache, your body tensing and yet also unwinding by the second, whimpers climbing up into moans, and Dylan’s voice coaxing you to fall apart for him.

“Oh my god…I’m-” the rest was stuck in your throat as you clenched around his fingers, earning you a searing kiss.

“Shit, I know, baby. I can feel how close you are, come on, do it. Know you want to, come on,” his sultry coos hit you like bricks.

It was wild, what his voice did to you, how it combined with all the other stimulation he was giving you to be the pinnacle. Giving you something to concentrate on, giving you no choice but to do what he said.

The last few rocks of your hips got you there, everything in your body going tight, arms that had been lax against the bed now grasped at his arms, clinging to him as you came with a gasp. A tremble ran through your thighs at the way he looked at you the entire time, his encouragements turning to praise as you rode out the pleasure, his fingers still pressed against that spot only slower, wanting you to ride it out as long as possible.

When you finally slumped back against the bed, he withdrew his fingers slowly, smiling at how you tried to catch your breath, your body still squirming from how hard you just came.

“Fuck, I love you…” you sighed in content, another wave of heat hitting your core as you watched him taste you off his fingers.

“Mm, that’s my girl. I love you too. Scoot back for me, baby we’re not done yet.”

You thought just as much, a sly smirk finding its way to your face as you scrambled back towards the head of the bed, only a little bit bummed you weren’t going to return the favor for him with your own mouth.

“Will you let me lick you clean after at least?” you teased but he could see you were being serious too.

Dylan loved that about you, how much of a slut for him you became, as if you ever had to ask, he’d let you have whatever you wanted.

“Mhm, whatever you want.” his response almost a growl as he gripped your chin and answered you with a kiss.

As much as he loved to see your mouth stuffed full of him, the need to feel your walls wrapped around him first was greater.

It had been all he could think of since he’d picked you up tonight, since the moment you had teased him at the party, and he’d drawn it out for as long as he could, teasing you right back. Now, he decided, you both could indulge.

The rest of your clothes had been peeled off in a rush, thrown to the ground without a second thought, your eyes closing as you’re wrapped in another kiss, letting him lay you back against the pillows, position you how he wanted, your heartbeat thumping in your chest.

Your legs were pushed back, knees far apart to make room for him as he settled between them, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock, sliding the tip up over the slick mess of your pussy before working himself inside your heat.

The groaned out moan from you was the sign he was looking for as he bottomed out, every single inch pushed snugly inside you, his own curses filling your ears while you adjusted to the stretch, till you were rocking your hips again, encouraging him to move, to fuck you.

“Dyl…please, that feels so good,” you couldn’t stop from crying out from his thrusts, each one knocking desperate whimpers from your chest.

“Yeah? I bet it does, that’s all you needed huh, just had to fuck you to get you to stop acting up,” his words grunted against your skin had you reaching for him again, arms wrapped around his shoulders, clinging to him.

The cute little huff of laughter you gave in response made him press his weight into you a little more, so unbelievably turned on by you and your antics.

His pace picked up a little more, giving you a smile of his own when your hands moved up to dive into his hair, clenching and tugging gently as your bodies met in a rhythm, your own fully melted into his hold, your skin aflame with how his hands gripped your sides, using the grip to keep you in place.

It wasn’t long before you felt that familiar cliff edge, your legs tensing around his torso as you let it take you under, only able to warn him with sharp gasp before you were coming again, your nails biting into his shoulders, spurring on the string of curses and praise that left his lips.

“Fuck! There you go, good girl,” the light rasp to his voice made you shiver.

Dylan never wanted to stop, hurtling towards his own release from the way your walls fluttered around him, from the sound of your pretty whines and praises and how your hands tugged at his hair again.

His thrusts turned heavier, deeper, unable to hold himself back at your pleas for him to fill you up, his hold on your growing tighter the closer he got until he was grinding into you, both of you groaning as he came hard, breaths going heavy from the effort.

The fucked out smile that graced your features then made him throb, his face falling to your shoulder to press a kiss there as his hips slowed save for a few shallow thrusts, making sure you took every drop he had to give, pushing in all the way and holding you there as you both caught your breaths.

It was everything you’d hoped you’d get tonight and you were reminded how happy you were to be with him, to get to do this with him, feeling lucky that even without the little games you play with each other, he’d always give you the pleasure you deserved.

----

A/N: Happy to have written my first Dylan fic! Ever since those “behave” and “slut era” tweets I’ve been down bad lol and here we are! Thanks for reading!!!

some tags, no pressure! @emilykjh @kechiwrites @persona-enthusiast @its-not-just-a-phase-m0m @lovieebbymain @amesstilinski

#amalia writes #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o’brien x black reader #dylan o’brien x you #dylan o’brien smut #dylan o’brien imagine #dylan o’brien fanfiction #dylan o’brien fanfic #dylan o'brien fics

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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. 🤍🥰🤍

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

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babyflorencee · 4 months

Text

I love you

Dylan O'brien x fem!Reader

I leaned the side of my head against Dylan’s arm as I watched him type on his keyboard. I was bored, to say the least, but as of right now, it didn't really matter to me. I was content with just being in the presence of my boyfriend.

I looked up, admiring his features, as I smiled, happy with the fact that he was indeed mine and only mine. "Are you bored?" Dylan asked, looking down at me with a smile on his face.

I shook my head, snuggling up more into his arm, causing him to laugh, "I'm almost done," he whispered into my ear, before placing a kiss on my forehead.

I closed my eyes, letting myself drown in his aroma, as I slowly started to drift asleep.

***

I woke up in Dylan's bed, letting out a groan as I sat up. I looked over at his clock to see that I had been asleep for more than an hour. I let out a shiver as I pulled his covers off my body, now realizing just how cold it was in his room. I made my way over towards Dylan's wardrobe, grabbing the first sweater I could find, putting it on as I went to go look for him.

I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen to see him sitting down on the couch, remote in his hand as he clicked through channel to channel, in the search to find something interesting. "Hey babe," he said, patting down a spot next to him, not taking his eyes off the television.

"Hey love," I replied, making my way over towards him, taking a seat on his lap.

I buried the side of my head against his chest as I felt his free hand wrap around me. "What are you watching?" I asked, looking up at him.

He let out a sigh before turning the television off. "Nothing, there's nothing good on," he said, now directing his full attention to me.

I acknowledged him by nodding my head before wrapping my arms and legs around him, wanting to feel his body as close to mine as possible.

We stayed in that position for a while, the both of us soaking in the soothing feeling of each other's embrace, content with the monotonous, yet oddly comforting silence. "I love you," I said, breaking the silence.

"I love you too," he said back, placing a small kiss on my cheek.

We stayed in that position for a while longer. We had our eyes closed and a wide smile plastered on our faces. As every now and then, one of us would slowly inch closer to the other, trying to not only be able to feel but to be able to absorb the warmth generated between the both of our bodies.

#dylan o'brien x read #dylan o’brien smut #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi fanfiction

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asterias-record-shop · 11 months

Note

prompt 6? high school sweethearts. dylan o brian ofc. could u do it where maybe the reader is also an actress or something and they are both celebrities. maybe add in a scene where they are in an interview where someone asks them ab how they met or soemtjing and idk it ends with smut lol

—𓆩[red suit, red dress]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Dylan O’Brien x Fem! Actress! Fiancée! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.8K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Dylan had been together since he was shooting YouTube videos, and even replaced Holland as Lydia in Teen Wolf after a family emergency, and had been his partner in every film he shot from American Assassin to Love and Monsters to The Outfit. Besides, who could have better chemistry with Dylan than you?

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing & foul language || Drew Barrymore is now interviewing you and Dylan || nvm I saw an opportunity and took it, you didn’t make it to the interview || smut warnings include hickies, fingering, semi-public sex, car sex, oral, raw sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

“Dylan, we have the interview soon!” You yelled out as you slipped on your dress. You were careful choosing this one out, especially because Drew sent you both a pretty fruit basket and you were insanely excited to talk to her.

“I know!” He yelled out, walking out of the restroom with a towel around his waist and his face cleanly shaven. His hazel eyes were bright as they stared at you smooth the sides of your red dress, the perfect color that suited you amazingly and one he could never look away from. “You look so amazing.”

You paused as you started to put the gold and garnet earrings he got for you as a monthly anniversary present. “Thanks, baby.”

He smiled widely as he walked over, the towel around his waist falling slightly with every step as he came behind you. He was about to press his chest to your back before you glared at him through the mirror.

“If you get this dress wet, we’re going to have problems.” You threaten playfully making him hum as he takes the earring from you and slips it into your ear.

He mumbled, rubbing his hands against your hips after officially securing it on the lobe of your ear. “I’m trying to be romantical here.”

You giggle, ignoring your own words and leaning back into his chest. “There’s ways of being romantical without getting me wet.”

He grinned, his fingers slowly trailing down your thighs. “But making you wet is my specialty, angel cakes.”

You giggled at the nickname, stroking his hair. “Angel cakes? That’s a new one.”

“Got it from our friend MC Mikey,” he grinned at you through the mirror. “Y’know, in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”

You giggle, nodding. “I remember. I like it.”

“Do you now?” His hands slipped underneath your red dress, rubbing at your thighs as he hummed against your neck. “What else do you like?”

“I think I liked the blond,” you say, pushing your hands through his now grown out brown hair. “But I do like you clean shaven.”

He smiled, nodding. “Maybe I’ll go blond again for you,” his fingers slowly pulled up your dress, letting you watch him through the mirror as he let his fingers graze your slit up and down slowly. “Whatever you want me to do, angel cakes.”

You groaned as you tilted your head back, humming as his finger softly trailed over your underwear that you wore specifically not to leave any panty-lines on the dress. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, ignoring the slight wetness that settled on your back that would definitely mean that you’d have to change your dress, which was a shame because you really liked it.

“You need to calm down, Dylan,” you whisper, holding back a whimper as he dipped his fingers into your underwear and his mouth sucked against your neck. “D-Don’t leave hickeys, Dylan, I won’t be able to cover them up.”

“You don’t have to,” he mumbled, humming against your skin. “I like it when people can see them.”

You gasped, knowing you wouldn’t be able to stop him, so you hummed with a slight nod. “Just not too many, alright? And not too dark.”

“Whatever you say, angel cakes.”

You giggled as he pushed his fingers through your wet slit, his mouth wide and sucking against your skin as your hands tightly held his wrists, whimpers falling from your mouth as you leaned back into him, gasping. “Y-You need… you need to change, Dylan.”

“Do I have a red suit to match your dress?”

“Y-Yeah, i-it’s Valentino,” you whisper, whimpering. “K-Kinda like the one Pedro wore for the Met Gala, just with pants.”

He laughed, his mouth sucking on your earlobe. “What if we’re just a little late?”

“No, Dylan, she sent us a fruit basket!”

“Fuck her fruit basket,” he basically growled, groaning as he bucked his hips up into you. “Tell me what you chose me to wear, angel cakes.”

“Th-The red oversized coat… red button down, black Valentino tie and some slacks,” you groaned as his thumb slid over your clit, rolling the sensitive bud between two fingers before his mouth pressed to your jaw. “Fuck, Dylan.”

“Who are you imagining wearing that suit, huh baby? Me or Pedro, I know you’ve had a crush on him since Narcos,” he teased you, his tongue peeking out as you groaned. “Me or Pedro, angel cakes?”

You hold his jaw, delicately grazing your teeth over his mole as he groans. “Definitely Pedro.”

You both laughed loudly as he took out his fingers from your panties, a squeal echoing off of the walls from your mouth as he pushed them in between his lips and walked to the walk-in closet. “Are you going to change, baby?!”

“No!” You yelled back, fixing your dress and checking that a wet spot wasn't peeking through. “It’ll dry by the time we get there!”

You put on the gold choker you bought and a gold and diamond bracelet with Dylan’s initials engraved on the nameplate on your wrist, fixing your engagement ring and his rope chain that you had been wearing the past few days. You loved stealing his jewelry, but it’s more like the two of you swapped because as soon as he walked out of the closet dressed like a fucking god with some combat boots on to match Pedro’s, he slipped on a small gold hoop onto the helix of his right ear because of the lack of a needle.

You hummed as you grabbed a stack of hoops from your jewelry box, coming next to him as you kissed his cheek softly, sliding the stack onto the lower area of his helix on his other ear. “I was imagining you, Dylan,” you whisper with a firm tug to his thigh. “I’m always imagining you, baby.”

He smiled at you, holding your cheek with a firm hand and pressing another kiss to your lips. “Well then, we have another thing in common, baby.”

You giggled as he held your hip, guiding you out of the room and down the stairs.

“If your dress isn’t dry by the time we get there, I’ll give you my jacket, okay?”

You hummed, smiling as you both walked out of your home and he helped you into the SUV, quickly sliding into the car and putting his arm around you. “How are we doing on time, angel cakes?”

“We’re running a little late, but not by much. When we get there, we should just have enough time to be fitted with mics and then go on air,” you say, leaning forward to look at your reflection in the rearview mirror. “Dylan! You left, like, a dozen!”

“I left four!” He said, laughing as you started tugging on his jacket. “What, you’re that eager? Mycroft, put up the privacy screen!”

“What? No, no Mycroft, don’t do that!” You yell, your driver laughing as you groan. “I need to cover them up because you’re acting like a fucking vampire and leaving hickies all over me!”

“Here, I’ll give it to you when we get there, alright?” He whispers, pressing firm kisses to your neck as you roll your eyes playfully. “But we still have like fifteen minutes until we get there, angel cakes. Why don’t you put that pretty mouth to use for something else, hm? Repay me for earlier?”

You glared at him, but looked at Mycroft through the mirror. “Will you put the privacy screen up, please Mycroft?”

“Whatever you say, Ms. Y/N.” He reached forward, slowly pushing the button to make the privacy screen go up and a deep sigh left your mouth.

“We have half an hour, maybe more, Dylan,” you say, a smile on your face as you slowly take off your seatbelt. You could feel Mycroft slow down as you kneeled on the seat, slowly unzipping his slacks after unbuttoning them. It didn’t surprise you when his cock immediately bulged through his underwear, a hum leaving your mouth as you licked over the fabric. “Why am I not surprised?”

He groaned loudly, hips bucking as you hushed him softly. “Fuck, Y/N.”

“Careful, darling,” you whispered, humming with another soft lick to the growing wet patch on his black briefs. “Our windows might be tinted and the privacy screen might be up, but nothing muffles how loud you’re going to be.”

You giggled as he groaned out, holding the back of your head with a hand covered in golden rings. He hissed as you pulled out his cock, head rolling back as you pumped him slowly just how he liked it, slowly and tightly. Your hand barely went around his girth, your mouth sucking loudly against his pretty tip before licking down the bottom of his shaft.

You could feel his cock pulse in your mouth, pulling him farther down your throat as his hand held your butt, rubbing and pushing into your cunt. Your eyes rolled back as his fingertips circle the rim of your entrance, warm and clenching around nothing so desperately.

You couldn't even focus on his cock, choking and gagging around his length as he pulled his fingers away and pushed them into his mouth. His other hand held your waist tightly, his mouth kissing against your shoulder as he leaned down and pushed a finger into you slowly. Your eyes rolled back as you bobbed your head, pumping your hands as he slowly pushed in and out of your cunt.

You pulled away for a second, gasping for air as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you, teasingly pushing another into your cunt. You basically mewled as both of his fingers pushed in and out, in and out, a steady rhythm you couldn’t stop thinking about as you relax your jaw and bobbed your head around the tip of his cock, pulling it to the back of your throat as you hollow your cheeks around it.

He groaned loudly against your shoulder, your mouth enclosed around his length as his other hand held the back of your head and pressed kisses to your shoulder. “Just like that baby, just like that. Fuck, you’re doing so good.”

You hummed around his length, thighs shaking as he twisted his fingers inside of you and another circled around your cunt, slowly pushing in another finger that made your cunt clench and a loud moan fell from your lips. “Who’s being loud now, hm? Your cunt is clenching more than usual, are you about to cum?”

You whined, humming around his length as you pulled away, nodding. “Yes! Yes, I am, fuck!”

He groaned as his mouth sucked against your shoulder, leaving another hickey in your skin as you pulled his cock into your mouth, a feeling of emptiness settling in the pit of your stomach as he pulled his fingers out of you, his mouth leaving a blaze of warmth wherever he went and a shudder run down your spine as he bucked his hips.

Your eyes rolled back, a loud groan falling from your mouth making him choke and push you down until your mouth was fully enveloping his cock and giving him a chance to come undone underneath you. You hummed as you continued to bob your head, pulling away just enough so that his cum flooded your mouth.

You pulled away, swallowing as he grinned down at you, his cock still hard. “You know damn well that getting me off once does nothing.”

You giggled as you slowly pushed yourself over his cock, humming as you held his shoulders. “I know.”

He smiled as you slowly held his shaft, hissing as you slowly sank onto his cock, your head tilting back as he held your hips. He pressed soft kisses to your jaw, humming as his fingers dug into the fabric of your dress, his mouth leaving more heat onto your skin which already felt like it was on fire. “Dy-Dylan, I want to take it off,” you whispered, whining. “Take off my dress.”

He smiled, laughing slightly as he held the hem of your dress. “It’s going to take a minute to put it on again, my darling. Are you sure you want to take it off?”

You whined, rolling your hips as he groaned underneath you. “I-It’s just so hot, it’s so fucking hot.”

“I know baby, but I don’t want you stressed out when we get there,” his fingers held your waist, your hips rolling as he slowly took off his seatbelt. “Do you want me to tell Mycroft to turn up the AC?”

You thought about it for a minute, but shook your head. You always got hot whenever he fucked you, or was about to fuck you, his hips strong as he began to thrust. “N-No, just keep fucking me, don’t stop.”

He hummed into your ear, grunting as he held your hips and his mouth attached to the same hickies he had made earlier. “Remember the first time I had you like this? Fucked you in the backseat whenever that stupid movie was playing in the football field, they were trying to take us back to the 80s or some shit?”

You groaned loudly, his mouth making your mind hazy as you bucked your hips into his. “Yeah, I remember. It had to be like our… What, fourth time having sex? You were so desperate.”

“Who’s desperate now, hm?” He says, leaning back and fixing your legs around his waist and grunting as he positioned your hips a little higher, leaning down to press his wet lips to yours. “I know your body gets all hot when you’re desperate. Like you want to cum. You’re desperate, aren’t you? You want to cum again?”

You whined, nodding. “Y-Yes,” your fingers ran over his clothed chest, your head lulling up and down in a pathetic nod. “I want you to fuck me harder, Dylan.”

“Do you?” He teased, groaning as he leaned forward as he pressed kisses to your lips. “I will, I’ll do whatever you want.”

You laughed, pulling his face into your neck. “You’re still so fucking desperate.”

He laughed, his nose nuzzling into your neck as his hips moved faster, just like you wanted him to. He groaned, his mouth still pushing against the same hickies that he had made earlier, his fingers pushing down to rub firm circles into your clit. His cock was pounding into you making your stomach twist and turn, tightening as your walls would clamp down onto his shaft, his broken moans filling the back seats along with the wet squelching of your cunt and the slaps of skin against skin.

“I might be desperate,” he grunted, his mouth quickly finding yours to kiss and push his tongue into your mouth, groaning loudly. “But you’re one fucking worthy person to be desperate for. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, falling in love with you quicker than a bitch could say ‘fuck’.”

You laughed as he pulled you closer, his other hand pushing into your hair to pull you in for another kiss, his teeth grazing your lips that were painted with lipstick and his tongue pushing into your mouth making a loud groan leaving your mouth. That combined with the strong thrusts of his hips, his cock imminently and repeatedly ramming into you made your stomach tighten and your nails dig into his back.

His hips slam into you, a loud groan falling from his lips as he choked against your lips, pulling away to inhale deeply. “F-Fuck, I think I made a mess.”

You hummed, feeling his cum flood into your stomach as you run your fingers through his hair before a soft tap on the privacy screen makes both of you stiffen. “We’re here!”

omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!

Bingo tag 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪 𓆩[@yoongiwife23]𓆪 𓆩[@urlocalbum12-blog]𓆪

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mysticallystilinski · 5 months

Text

FEELING [ stiles x fem! reader ]

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.

“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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sugarcoatedstarkey · 1 year

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𝕾𝖚𝖌𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖔𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖊𝖞 𝟒𝕶 𝕮𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓🖤

Thank you so much for following me, I appreciate every single one of you. I can’t believe it, I have been posting on Wattpad for so long and never received the love I have on here. It amazes me how much love I get, so I’m spreading the love back to you! ♡

ℜ𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔰 -

Only 1 request per ask. However, you can send multiple asks.

State which prompt list you have chosen your number from if you choose fandom.

This event will end midnight Friday 5th May.

𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔪 -You may send in a request with 1-2 smut prompts from the below links with the character/actor of your choosing from the list of people I write for.

𝔖𝔪𝔲𝔱 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔱 𝔬𝔫𝔢

𝔖𝔪𝔲𝔱 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔱 𝔱𝔴𝔬

𝔖𝔪𝔲𝔱 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢

𝔊𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔭 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔱- send me this and I’ll write you a note (mutuals only!!)

𝔉𝔲𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔶 - Send in a few facts about yourself along with gender and fandom and I will ship you with someone.

𝔅𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔴𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔡- send this and I’ll press shuffle and give you a song.

🏷️ tagging mutuals- @amournoir @cecesrings @dreamingwithrafe @fangirlwithlou @pankhoeforlife @promiscuousbarnes @glutenfreepeach @illicitfixations @laineywilsons @rafesmoon @rafesmuse @softcoremaybank @multifandomwhore-003 @folkloreslovechild @mvybanks @maybankslover @fangirlwithlou @whoisdrewstarkey

#Rach’s 4K celebration #Spreading the love #outerbanks smut #dylan o’brien smut #drew starkey smut #rafe cameron smut #rudy pankow smut #jj maybank smut #chase stokes smut #john b smut #Barry obx smut #Mitch rapp smut #stiles stilinski smut #smut prompts

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dylobilysmomg · 3 months

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Motel Fever

𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟯.𝟭𝗸

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪! 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 (𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗽𝗻𝘃, 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀

𝗢𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁: 𝗦𝗻𝗮𝗽 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗢𝗳 𝗜𝘁 𝗯𝘆 𝗔𝗿𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗜 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝘄 𝗗𝘆𝗹𝗮𝗻’𝘀 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!

𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗶𝗳!

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I groan from beside Allison, taking a look at the disaster coach calls a motel.

“I’ve seen worse.” Scott says, and I scoff. “Where have you see worse?” Stiles replies, rolling his eyes. I pull my jacket closer to my body, trying to shield myself from the wind the storm brings.

The track team circles up as Coach speaks up. “Listen up! The meet’s been pushed til tomorrow.” There’s a groan that comes from just about all of us in unison at that. “This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and the least amount of good judgment when it comes to accepting a bunch of…degenerates like yourselves. You’ll be pairing up, choose wisely.”

Me and Allison walk up and grab a key from Coach, checking out the number and practically stomping to our room. Scott and Stiles close behind us.

“And I’ll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants, got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!” Coach shouts as everyone makes their way to their rooms for the night.

“I can’t believe this. How much you wanna bet we wake up to a cancelled track meet tomorrow.” I complain, approaching our motel room, which is oh so conveniently right next to Scott and Stiles’ 𝘖𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵.

I stop at the door, waiting for Allison to unlock it, but she’s taking her sweet time chatting it up with Scott. Stiles whips past me, brushing my shoulder.

“Hey Stiles, will you and Scott do me a favor and keep the moans down tonight. I would rather not listen to you two get in on while I get my beauty sleep.” I taunt him, leaning against the door, burning time while I wait for Allison.

Stiles halts his actions of unlocking his door to turn to me, “Didn’t you hear the coach, Y/N? ‘𝘕𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.’ Or is that word too big for you? Need me to dumb it down?” He jabs and I scoff in his face.

“Oh I heard him all right. I just wonder if you did.” I counter, watching as he scoffs, tongue poking out to glide over his teeth.

“We’ll be quiet, Y/N/N. Besides, I don’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep; God knows you need it.” He says, and before I can come up with a comeback, Allison is coming up behind me and unlocking our door.

Scott passes us both and bypasses Stiles into their room, “Sleep tight, Y/N.” Stiles sneers before disappearing behind Scott.

I join Allison in our room, shutting and locking the door behind me. “I hope you don’t kick in your sleep, or someone’s gonna sleep on the floor tonight and it won’t be me.” I say, looking at the single bed in the middle of the dreary room.

“About that…” Allison says, her face already completely giving away what she’s about to tell me.

“Allison,” I warn her, and she trots in front of me with pleading eyes. “Would you do me a huge, huge favor and switch with Scott tonight?” She begs, and I’m completely and utterly in shock.

“You cannot be serious. You want me, to share a room, a 𝘣𝘦𝘥, with 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴?!” I try to wrap my head around the idea of having to survive a night with Stiles Stilinski. Yeah right, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺.

“Yeah, no, no way in hell!” I shout, hands flailing in the air. “Have you even met me?!” I ask, baffled that she’d even think that I’d ever agree to such a thing. “I mean? have you even met Stiles?! I can’t stand him for more than a few seconds, let alone hours!” I exclaim.

“Then don’t stand him, sit on him instead.” Allison says, the tone in her voice suggestive. I scoff, “Yeah right, me and Stiles? Never in a million years.” I say, the idea completely out of the question.

“Oh come on, Y/N! You could cut the sexual tension between you two with a knife! You guys just need to fuck and make up.” Allison tries to convince me, and I’m trying to deny the pit in my stomach that tells me she might be right.

“Allison you’re crazy. There’s no tension between Stiles and I.” I answer, rolling my eyes. “Oh please, Y/N! Please, please, pleaseeeee!” She begs, not backing down.

I groan out, “Alright! Alright! But you owe me big time for this.” I finally give in, and Allison pounces onto me to give me a tight hug.

“Y/N you won’t regret this, I’m texting Scott now.” She says giddily, and I change into my pajamas while we wait for Scott.

After a few minutes, there’s a knock at our door, and I open it to reveal a just-as-giddy Scott McCall. “Y/N,” He greets me with a tight lipped smile. “Scott.” I answer, brushing passed him and out the door.

It’s dark, rainy, and cold outside. I stand in front of Stiles’ motel room, shivering in my pajama shorts and matching t-shirt. I knock. No answer. I knock again. Still nothing.

“Stiles I know this isn’t the most pleasant arrangement but it’s freezing outside, please let me in.” I plead, my teeth chattering. Still nothing. Nothing but the howling of the wind and the drops of rain.

I sigh, sliding my back down against the door, sitting down on the cold cement. I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself as I shiver.

Then suddenly, the door is pulled open without warning and I look up to see a half naked Stiles. “What’re you doing?” He asks, looking down at me as I scurry up and onto my feet. “Waiting for you to let me in, dumbass. It’s cold out here.” I chatter, pushing past his naked upper half and into the room.

The room is ice cold, not any better than outside in the elements. Stiles rolls his eyes coming back into the room and locking the door behind him.

I turn to him to ask why the heater isn’t on when he beats me to it. “Yeah, well, the heater is broken to shit so it’s not much better in here.” He answers my unspoken question. I shake my head, sitting on the bed, head in my hands. “This cannot be happening right now.” I complain, more to myself than Stiles.

“You wanna complain some more, Y/N? Since you’re so good at it.” He jabs, padding to his bag, digging through it. I scoff in response, and it’s then that I look up and take real notice of him frame. 𝘏𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦?

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He says, pulling me out of my daze. “Whatever, get some other desperate girl to be your paparazzi.” I reply, digging into my bag for my phone charger, but it’s nowhere to be found.

Stiles goes into the dinky bathroom to change, coming out to me huffing and puffing. “What is it now?” He asks irritated, emerging from the bathroom in plaid pajama pants and a navy blue t-shirt. “I think I left my fucking charger at home.” I groan, checking my phone percentage. 12%

He chuckles, getting snuggled into the single bed and plugging his phone in, rubbing it right in my face. He turns his phone to the side, putting on some tv show. I grab my bag off the bed and drop it to the floor, “Make some room will you?” I push his feet from above the covers, and he scoots a millimeter to the side.

I curse under my breath, jumping into the bed and shoving him over some as he watched his phone. “Jeez, Y/N/N. If you wanted to get in bed with me that bad you should’ve just said so.” Stiles quips, and I pull at the cold blanket to cover myself.

“Oh please, get over yourself. You’re the last person I’d ever want to be in bed with.” I roll my eyes, getting out my phone to distract myself from him until it inevitably dies.

We’re laying shoulder the shoulder. He’s holding up his phone as he watches Supernatural, and before long my phone is dead.

I set my phone on the nightstand to my right, then turning over to lay on my left side and watch his show. My face is millimeters away from his broad shoulder, and he turns his head to me, peering down.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, attention split between me and the phone. “My phone died, and I like Supernatural.” I say, my eyes flick from the screen to him.

“You like this? Scott hates it.” He says, turning his face back to his phone. Is he starting a normal conversation with me? What universe is this?

“Of course Scott hates it, he hates all things 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭.” I say, wiggling magic fingers in his face. He chuckles, “Yeah, guess it’s too close to home for him. I like it though, I like to think we’re like them.” He says, comparing him and Scott to Sam and Dean.

“So which one are you? Sam or Dean?” I ask, giggling. “Which one do you think I am?” Stiles ponders, his attention fully turned toward me by now. “Definitely Sam,” I answer confidently, “he’s my favorite.” I add, my eyes suddenly avoiding his own.

There’s an awkward silence for a moment before Stiles breaks it. “Awe, so you like me more than Scott?” He pokes fun at me, and I roll my eyes. “In your dreams, Stilinski. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you unless the situation was dire.” I counter, rolling over to my back, his phone long forgotten.

He turns it off, setting it on the nightstand on his side. “See that’s where you’re wrong.” He says, and the tone in the chilly room shifts. He sits up to almost hover over me. His face the closest it’s ever been to mine, and I can’t help but flicker my eyes from his to his lips and back again.

“I think you wanted this. I think you want me.” He says, voice huskier and hushed. “Stiles…” I can’t think of a witty response, I can’t think about anything besides his lips, and how impossibly close they are to my own.

“Say it. Tell me, Y/N.” He demands, a veiny hand dipping under the covers to slink down my thigh. My mind is running a hundred miles a minute, short circuiting.

“Awe, fuck it.” I whisper, more to myself than him, closing the gap between us. Our lips connect in a searing kiss, and my hands shoot up to his neck, pulling him down to me.

He growls into my mouth, moving to now completely hover on top of me, my legs instinctively opening to make room for him. His arms prop himself up over me, and my hands explore his body, moving to slide up and under his shirt. I slowly push up his shirt til his sits up, pulling it off in one swoop.

He’s so fucking hot. My hands dance along his slightly defined abs, speckled like his face. “Like what you see?” He taunts, leaning back down over me to assault my neck with his lips. “Oh, bite me.” I snip, and he nips at my throat in response.

Stiles trails his nimble fingers up my shirt, but I stop him, pushing his chest until he’s off of me. I push him over to his back, straddling his waist to be on top. I settle myself into his lap, his hands gripping my hips tightly. I pull my shirt up and off my body, revealing myself to him. The cold nips at my now half naked frame, nipples perking up and gossebumps cover my body.

I shiver a little, “It’s so cold in here, Stiles.” I whisper, and he snakes a hand up my waist and all the way up to my neck, pulling my face down to his. “Don’t worry, baby,” He whispers seductively, “I’ll warm you up.”

Our lips meet once again, tongues fighting for dominance. I grind down into his lap, his boner prominently poking me beneath his pants. He moans deliciously into my mouth as I do so, hands slipping into my shorts, groping my ass.

I moan as he rocks me in his lap, “God, why did we wait so long for this?” I whispers, looking up at me with those auburn eyes. “Because we hate each other.” I answer breathlessly.

“I could never hate you, baby.”

Then he’s forcefully pushing me back over, hands dipping into the waist band or my sleep shorts, pulling them and my panties down in one go. He places a palm on each of my knees, spreading my legs apart. I’m now fully bare and at his mercy.

I moan in anticipation as he methodically kisses up my thigh, getting close and closer to my dripping heat. He then brings a finger to swipe through my folds, my slick covering his digit as it glistens. “All this and I’ve barely even touched you.” He taunts me.

“Stiles please,” I beg, but he’s not ready to give in just yet. “Please what? Use your words.” He says huskily. “Please Stiles, please touch me.” I plead.

Stiles licks a stripe through my folds, sending shivers sound my spine. His mouth attacks my heat, his tongue working wonders. Stiles is like a starved man, feeding on anything and everything he can get his hands on. Feasting upon me. He sends me over the edge almost immediately. My hands shoot down to his head, gripping his hair til my knuckles turn white.

Stiles detaches his lips from my clit, sitting up to his knees and standing up off the bed. He drops his pajama pants to the ground, before zipping over to his bag to retrieve a condom from it. He rushes back over to the bed, pulling his boxers off in an instant, kneeling onto the bed in front of you as he rolls the condom into his think length.

My fists grip the bed covers, watching as he lines his swollen tip with my entrance, teasing me with it. “Stiles,” I moan, and he slides himself in completely.

He hisses as he does so, burying himself to the hilt. “Fuck, Stiles.” I moan out breathlessly. Stiles thrusts are hard, his rhythm unbearable. “Yeah, you like that?” He whispers, leaning down to me ear. His voice deep and husky, full of lust. His lips dip down to nip at my throat. “Yes, Stiles.” I moan, and I feel him smile against my kiss peppered skin.

“Awe, fuck.” Stiles drawls out into my ear, sitting up to his knees, still fucking me, his rhythm perfect. “Say my name.” He orders me, his hands gripping my hips as he pistons into me. I can barely take it.

Of course I do as he says. I moan his name, eyes rolling back, my mouth hung wide open as moans spill out of me. He slides a hand to my cunt, his thumb moving to circle my clit. He watches with hooded eyes where we meet as he fucks me senseless.

“Say it again.”

“Stiles.”

“Again.”

“𝘖𝘩 Stiles.”

“Yeah, you getting close? Do I fuck you that good? Say it.” He seethes, his dirty words rattling in my head. I’m breathless, the cold room now unbearably hot. “You fuck me so good, Sti.” I moan, the ball in the pit of my stomach tightening with every touch of his. His hand gripping my hip. His cock hitting that sweet spot inside me with every thrust. His thumb pressing to my clit.

“Yeah? You like that, baby.” I can’t take it anymore. “Stiles,” I moan, my limbs restless, I can’t stay still. “Tell me.” He says, leaning down over me to envelope my lips in a wet, searing kiss. I moan as he parts, “I’m gonna cum, Stiles.”

“Then do it.”

I obey his every word, my release washing over like a wave. My back arches into him, and Stiles buckles down, chasing his nearing high. I’m just about to tell him I can’t take it anymore when he cums, spilling into the condom. His brows furrowing and his mouth agape. He lets out the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard, I never want it to stop.

He pumps a few more times, riding out his high. “Oh, fuck.” He whispers, slowly pulling out of me. I moan as he does, partly in pleasure and partly in pain. I’m sore now, I can’t even imagine how sore I’ll be tomorrow.

Stiles gets up from the bed, he quickly discards the condoms and pulls his boxers on. He pads to the bathroom, and I lay there for a minute not sure of what to do. I close my legs and watch as he comes back with a damp rag.

He comes back to me, kneeling on the bed in front of my closed legs. “Open.” He says, placing a hand on my knee to pry them open once more. He cleans me up, and I’m completely and utterly in shock. Did he really just do that? What have I been missing out on?

When he’s does, I sit up so our faces meet, and I peck his kiss swollen lips. “Thank you.” I whisper, and he hums in response, kissing me once more.

As he goes to the bathroom to put the rag away, I gather my scattered clothes from the floor, and I’m slipping them on as he comes back, hopping back into the bed.

It’s at this point that I’m not really sure what to expect now. Are we never gonna talk about this again? Are we just gonna hate each other and fuck on the side? I’m nervous to get back in bed with him.

“Come here.” Stiles mumbles, laying his arm out for me. I crawl into bed, snuggling into him. “Do we still hate each other?” I whisper. He says nothing, reaching om his other arm over to his nightstand.

“Here.” He says, handing me his phone charger.

!𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎!

“Jesus Stiles, turn it off.” I grumble, his alarm blaring in my ears. Stiles is dead asleep, how he’s able to sleep through his excruciating alarm? No idea.

I reach over him to grab his phone, hitting the snooze button. But before I put it down I see a text from none other than Scott, at 12:31 AM.

𝙎𝙘𝙤𝙩𝙩 𝙈𝙘𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙡: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙨

𝟏/𝟐𝟕/𝟐𝟒

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