#fanfiction dylan o'brien

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

a little fashion show

kinktober, day four

a/n: bro, the amount of time this idea has been in the notes app on my phone....

warnings: stiles stilinski x reader, smut, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, trying on lingerie, teasing, flashing, kissing

word count: 990

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“Who was at the door?” Stiles asked as your giddy form appeared in the doorway to your room once more. 

“The mailman,” you giggled, unable to contain your excitement, “and look!”

“You got a package!” not getting as revved up in the excitement as you were, he nonchalantly pointed out the parcel in your palms, “oh, cool!”

“Not just any package, only the one I’ve been waiting about a billion years to arrive,” you shut the door behind you, gazing down at the bundle in your hands with heart-shaped eyes, “you don’t mind if I just try this stuff on right now, do you? I just don’t know if I can wait till you leave.”

Discretely readjusting in his comfortable seat on your mattress, he waved a hand, “no, no, it’s fine.”

“Really? Great!” you squealed, digging your fingers into the opening of the package, “you can help me see if any of it doesn’t suit me or fit right, give you a little fashion show and everything.” 

“Alright, sure,” he agreed with a soft chuckle as you disappeared behind the wide bookcase that acted as a divider in the middle of your room.

After changing into the first item, you couldn’t stop yourself from springing back out, arms raised high above your head as you sang, “tada! What do you think?”

“Wow, oh, wow,” you watched Stiles eyes grow wide as they landed on the extremely short nightgown hanging around your form, “that’s-, that’s-…”

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” you turned your back to your stunned friend to glance at yourself in the mirror, “the floral pattern especially.” 

Gaze tracing your hands as they played with the tiny skirt, “y-yeah, it is,” you just barely managed to catch sight of his reflection discreetly move one of your pink pillows over his lap, “it’s good, you should definitely keep that one.”

You hadn’t thought that his blush could have gotten any worse, but evidently, as you soon pranced out clad in the next thing, it very much could. 

“What about this one?” you innocently observed the lingerie set in the long mirror, turning a bit to see how the high-waisted, black underwear hugged your bottom, “do you think it fits alright?” 

Looking like a broken PlayStation 2 game you’d have to pull out and blow on, Stiles simply hummed, “huh?”

“I just feel like if I jump around or bend over in this, the girls are just gonna spill out,” your nose crinkled as your fingertips ghosted over the cups of the matching bra. 

“I mean,” he blinked hazily, “you could test it out, if you want.”

Obliging twice, jumping gently in place, the squint to your eye didn’t fade away as not only you observed how your boobs jiggled in the cups, “hm, I don’t know, maybe one of the ones that has a different cut then this one…”

Peeping through the shy slivers of the bookcase, you bit down on your smirk as you watched the trouble you’d stirred up on the other side. As you slid off the black number, daringly arching your back and purposefully sticking your butt out far enough for him to catch a glimpse, you spotted how a string of your want clung to the panties as you dragged the down your legs. 

If this last one wasn’t gonna do the trick, make the guy you’d had a crush on forever fess up and make a move, then you didn’t know what would.

Pink, skimpy and sheer, your pebbly nipples weren’t the only thing on full display as the see-through thong also made your puffy pussylips no secret to anyone. 

Your pace as you returned to the mirror was purposefully slow, not looking to Stiles even once as you felt your desperation for him soak the pretty garments. 

“T-that-, yeah,” his fluttering eyes were trained on your bare bottom, “that’s nice.”

“Yeah?” you still didn’t dare to look at him, “you think so?”

“Mhm,” he nearly groaned. 

Grazing your touch ever so lightly over the elastic edges, you uttered, “you really think it’s pretty?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Stiles,” you sucked in a deep breath and gathered up the courage through the pumping adrenalin of being so exposed before your crush, “can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” flowed from his lips nearly instantly.

“Would you have sex with me?”

The room was dead silent a moment before Stiles choked, “what?”

“Would you fuck me?” you rephrased, still not looking back at him in the refection. 

“Would I-… I’m sorry, what?”

“Would you fuck me?” gnawing at your bottom lips, you finally turned to face him, “because I kinda really like you, like a lot,” your feet slowly carried you closer to where he sat, “and I don’t know, I’m sorry, am I being too forward? Is this too much? Do you not like me in that way? Because I totally get it if you do, I’m really sorry for everything. I thought you’d picked up on the hints I’ve been dropping for a while now and that you-”

“I do like you!” he rushed to cut off your concern, “I-I-, yes,” seizing your hand in his as he emphasized, “yes.” 

“Yes or yes?” you asked, eyes flickering to the pillow hiding his own excitement. 

“Yes,” he nodded, swiftly tugging you down in his lap before you could withdraw your proposal. 

An airy whimper escaped your lips as he then kissed you, your whole body feeling like puddy in his grasp. Drawing back a moment from his long-awaited pecks, you found yourself offering bashfully, “you know, I could also just give you a handjob or blow you or something if you’re not-”

Using his leverage, he suddenly flung you down against the mattress, effectively cutting your suggestion off as he scurried to hover above you, an earnest grin adorning his lips as he then exclaimed “oh my god, just shut up and let me screw my best friend.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #kinktober 2023 #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #teen wolf smut #teen wolf imagine #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brian imagine #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #stiles smut #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

[strangerstilinski]

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 1 — 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐞

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got it. You can do it. C'mon-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐒 𝐜 𝐨 𝐭 𝐭 𝐲 𝐃 𝐨 𝐞 𝐬 𝐧 ' 𝐭 𝐊 𝐧 𝐨 𝐰 .

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

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

[dylobilysmomg]

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

#dylan obrien #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien x reader #stiles stilinski smut #dylan o’brien #dylan obrien smut #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles smut #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien masterlist #ponyboi

[stilessflannel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"can you let me ask him something?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

repost off my old a03 account

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

[jpnriikicore]

── scotty doesn’t know

paring stiles stilinski x mccall!reader, word count 548, genre kinda suggestive, ( masterlist )

scott can’t find out. you’ve somehow managed to hide a big secret from your brother. you’ve been secretly dating his best friend, stiles now for a couple months without scotty knowing. he would freak if he found out that his baby sister was dating his best friend because of his rule "my sister is off limits" that scott made up in middle school after stiles looked at you for "a bit too long" for his liking.

you just wanted a moment where you could be together intimately and not get caught. so, the best you could do in a spur of the moment on a sunday night was in the middle of a empty parking lot. since stiles dad is home and, so was scott with alison in his bedroom doing god knows what.

stiles turned his key, turning his jeeps engine off. you balled up his flannel in a fist drawing him closer to your lips into a desperate kiss. it wasn’t a want at this point it was a need. it was a craving that needed to be fulfilled.

stiles didn’t hesitate as his hand reached up to your jaw, cradling it and bringing you closer. your hand slipped down to under his shirt your fingertips dancing over his skin.

stiles disconnected his lips from yours, so that he could kiss down your neck. he made sure to leave marks that was definitely going to be visible and hard to cover up for school the next day, but that was your last concern at the moment. your head tilted back to give him more access. your hand now finding a place in his hair tugging at the roots drawing a muffled whine from him.

"backseat, l-lets go to the backseat." a whine falls from your mouth.

your shirts discarded in the front seats as you followed him climbing over the console to the backseat. your hands exploring each other bodies in desperation and desire. out of desperation he tugs at your jeans without breaking the kiss. he fumbles with the button before quickly abandoned them in the floor of the jeep.

he grabbed your thigh rubbing smoothing circles with his thumb. every single touch seemed to set fire to your skin and a chill up your spine. his hand rested on the car door pulling away from your lips to catch his breathe. you take a moment to adore the beauty of the man in front of you. the soft lighting that lit his features. the moles scattered across his face. his brown eyes. gosh, he was too perfect. if anyone asked you the definition of what is perfect he would be the first one to pop into your mind.

the sound of heavy breathing and the melody of "scotty doesn’t know" that played on the radio was heard in the jeep.

his head dropped in the crook of your neck pressing a gentle kiss on your skin. your hand reaching down to unbutton his jeans as he brings you into a heated kiss once again.

"my brother can’t know." you mumbled against his lips. his agreement was muffled as he was too focused on you to think about anything else especially an actually answer. he’s mind was too cloudy and hazy.

scotty doesn’t know.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2023

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles x reader #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brian imagine

[voidpetrova]

stiles would def talk u through it

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

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

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

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

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

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

[babyflorencee]

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.

#dylan o'brien #stiles stilinksi imagine #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o’brien fanfiction #dylan o'brien one shot #dylan o’brien smut #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski smut #teen wolf imagines #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o'brien fanfiction

[ghostgardn]

no plot needed

synopsis: porn without plot guys idk. stiles stilinski x reader, very horny, established relationship ig. enjoy

a/n: I am FEEDING y'all today jesus christ. thank me later (>ᴗ•)

“Kiss me again.” You whisper. Stiles smiles brightly, pulling you onto his lap. Your knees and shins press into his mattress. Legs separated as you straddle him. Your arms drape across his shoulders, and your hands connect behind his neck. His hands settle on your waist.

Stiles pulls you impossibly close and his mouth meets yours once again. Your fingers thread through his soft black hair. His tongue dancing with yours, and every tug of his hair had him groaning into your mouth. You settle into his lap more grinding softly into him. Pulling back briefly he looks into your eyes.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to have to lock my door.” Stiles mutters into your mouth. Giving you a quick peck.

“Then lock your door,” He raised a brow, which led you to start leaving wet kisses along his jaw. Which was enough convincing he needed. He nods quickly and lets you get up and move further onto his bed. A knock causes him to open the door and peek his head out. Stiles holds a quick conversation with his father before locking and shutting the door again.

“He’s gonna be out for the rest of the night.” Stiles said, approaching you on the bed and slotting himself between your legs. You smiled brightly and brought his lips to yours once again.

Stiles worked your shirt over your head, and pulled his own off. As he worked your bra off your hands grazed along his chest, pressing down against his stomach. Once he took it off his hands replaced their material. Holding them, two fingers rolled your nipple. Causing your back to arch.

Stiles’ mouth latched onto the other, giving attention to both. He soon started sucking love-bites onto your boobs, blooming purple marks across the expanse of your chest. Stiles dragged his arms down your body, his fingers hooking on the waistband of your sweatpants. Pulling them down with the help of your lifted hips. Leaving you in just your plain white panties.

Stiles stands up and sheds his own pants and is left in his boxer briefs, a large bulge straining against his underwear. He pushed his hair back with his hand and settled on top of you again. He kissed your neck, sucking at your pulse point and making you moan.

Stiles wasted no more time, sliding your underwear down your legs and dropping them to the floor. He lying on his stomach and placing gentle kisses on your chest, working down to your thighs. Eventually lifting them up to rest on his shoulders.

Stiles placed gentle kisses to the inside of your thighs, his hot breath spread against your cunt. Eyes fluttering closed, you felt him kiss your clit. Dispersing soft kisses before upgrading to lapping at your cunt like a man starved. Stiles sucked your clit and teased your hole with his tongue. You felt his arm reach up towards your face, two fingers right in front of your mouth.

“Y’wanna do me a favor?” He asked, you nodded lightly and opened your mouth. Letting him stick his fingers inside. You swirled your tongue around him, and sucked before he pulled them back out again. Stiles then pushed one finger into you, curling it up and thrusting it in and out.

Soon enough a second finger was added. He curled it up just right so he’d hit that sweet spot. That, paired with Stiles sucking your clit, caused your orgasm to rush in. You felt a thick wave of euphoria rush over your body, your legs shook around his head and a loud moan of his name echoed within his room.

Stiles worked you down from your high until you were able to look him in the eye. Your entire body felt on fire. He smirked knowingly, his face glistening with your cum. Stiles kissed you, your cum mixing with his saliva and yours. After a long and deep kiss he pulled back.

“Wanna take my dick, or d’you wanna rest?” Stiles asked seriously, his worry for your wellbeing never fading.

“Mmm-mmm. Want your cock Sti, please. Want your cock.” You whined pulling him in for another kiss, to show him you were fine. He smiled against your lips and nodded. Standing up before sliding his underwear off. Your eyes widened at how large his cock was. You always seemed to forget how thick Stiles’ 7 inch long dick is.

“Think you can take it?” Stiles asked, concern lacing his voice. You nodded very enthusiastically.

“I can take it Sti, please let me try.” You whimpered. “Can I ride you?” You asked, puppy eyes fixed onto his.

“Of course you can ride me baby.” Stiles responded, you very excitedly watched him move to lay on his back. A pillow supporting his lower back so he could look at you.

You took his semi-hard dick, that was laying on his soft tummy, and started pumping it. You spat into your hand and continued to rub him, thumb briefly swiping over the tip. Precum coating your finger. You watched as Stiles’ cock became harder with each pump.

You reached over to his side drawer, pulling out a condom. You ripped the foil open and shrugged the condom over his cock. Stiles watched you lift yourself over him, teasing your folds with his tip. His hips bucked in impatience and you took that as a sign to sink yourself onto his dick.

You moaned the whole way down. Stiles filled the entirety of you, you sank until your thighs met his hips and your clit rubbed against the spot above his shaft. Your hands rested on his abdomen. Still trying to adjust to his girth. Stiles watched you slowly start rising and falling. Rocking your hips back and forth. He started snapping his hips up to meet yours.

You leaned back and used his legs as stability, rolling your hips and bringing yourself up and down. Stiles filled every part of you, his long cock kissing your hilt every time. And with every roll of your hips his thick dick greeted your sweet spot with ease.

Stiles’ moans and groans filled your ears. His hands gripped your hips tightly. Holding you up and pulling you down. His dull fingernails dug into you, hands hot and heavy against your skin. You felt your orgasm approaching, speeding up and bouncing quickly you tried to bring it closer.

“I’m gonna cum Sti,” You whined, pushing yourself up and down harder and harder. Legs shaking with the pressure of staying upright.

“Cum for me babe.” Stiles says, voice hoarse. You let yourself going quickly losing your pace and squeezing him like a vice. He would’ve doubled over in pleasure if he wasn’t already lying down. He thrusted very briefly before coming himself. You lied on top of him, sweaty and still a little shaky.

Stiles pressed a brief kiss to your forehead, lying his head against yours. Soon enough he stopped relishing in your post-sex glow and grabbed a soft washcloth to clean you and him both up. Stiles pushed you into the bathroom to pee while he got you some pajamas ready.

After you finished he presented one of his oversized graphic-tees, and your underwear. You took them gratefully and put each on. Hugging Stiles soon after, he smelled like sweet cologne, fresh laundry, and home. He settled down into his bed and offered you the spot next to him. You cuddled up under his arm and smiled up at him.

“Love you Stiles.” You hummed, nuzzling into his neck.

“I love you too baby.”

copyright © 2023 ghostgardn.tumblr

taglist: @starsval

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x y/n #stiles stilinski x yn #stiles stilinski x you #stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi smut #stiles smut #stiles stilinski x reader smut #stiles stilinski x yn smut #stiles stilinski x y/n smut #stiles stilinski x you smut #teen wolf stiles #stiles is the best character in teen wolf #prove me wrong #(you can't) #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien x you #dylan o'brien x yn #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brien x reader smut #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o'brien x yn smut #dylan o'brien x y/n smut #dylan o'brien x you smut #ghost writes <3

[bouncybongfairy]

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

[soulofapatrick]

Falling Into You - Stiles Stilinski x Female Reader 

Summary: you and stiles finally give into your unknown crush on each other

Words: 2.6K

Warning: Heated makeout session; if you squint there's dry humping

Y/N’s POV

Living with Stiles has been far from boring. Ever since my dad was killed and my younger brother - Isaac - went to live with Derek, Sheriff Noah Stilinski graciously opened his home to me. That meant living with Stiles too, and let me tell you, it has been anything but dull. Stiles has this knack for turning even the most mundane day into a storytelling session filled with the antics he and Scott get up to. 

I’ve grown to love it here. The Stilinski house is like a second home, and the sheriff is like a second dad to me. He’s been incredibly supportive, especially during the tough times. And then there’s Stiles. He’s… well, he’s Stiles. Quirky, witty and always wearing that mischievous grin. 

Lately, though, something’s shifted. I’ve caught myself stealing glances at Stiles when he’s not looking. His passion for solving mysteries, his loyalty to his friends—there’s something undeniably endearing about him. Maybe it’s the way he cares for everyone around him, or the way he throws himself into every insane situation without hesitation. But it's more than that. There's a warmth in his laughter, a genuineness in his concern, that makes my heart flutter a bit faster. And as much as I try to ignore it, I can't deny that a crush has been slowly blossoming. 

Living under the same roof, it’s hard to keep these feelings under wraps. I find myself wanting to spend more time around him, hoping for moments where it’s just the two of us, away from the chaotic everyday that is Beacon Hills. Yet, I’m also terrified. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if it ruins our friendship or makes things awkward while living with him? 

Stiles is currently sat cross legged on my bed, looking so engrossed in whatever supernatural mystery he's delving into. His dedication is admirable, even if it means sacrificing proper posture for the sake of research. I can't help but steal glances at him every now and then, admiring the furrow in his brow as he concentrates. 

I wish I could tell him how I feel. But the fear of ruining what we currently have, the fear of changing the dynamic between us, it’s suffocating. So instead, I go back to focusing on my assignment, the words blurring on the page as my thought drift back to him. 

The room is quiet except for the clicking of keys and the occasional muttered comment from Stiles. As I sit at my desk, trying to concentrate on the assignment in front of me, my mind wandering again—this time an entirely different scenario and it’s one that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. 

I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to set aside the fear and uncertainty, to sit next to Stiles and lean in, closing the distance between us. What would it be like to press my lips against Stiles’? Would they be as soft as they look, as warm as his laugh? My heart races at the mere thought, a flurry of emotions dancing within me. 

I picture the moment vividly: closing the space between us, feeling the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, and the anticipation before our lips meet. I imagine his hands, tentative yet steady, finding their place on my skin, maybe on the curve of my cheek or the small of my back. How would it feel to have his touch ignite a thousand sparks, to feel the electricity between us? 

There’s a mix of longing and hesitation, the desire to experience that connection, yet the fear of disrupting the comfortable equilibrium we've found in our friendship. But in my mind's eye, it's a beautiful chaos—a leap into the unknown, a chance to explore something deeper, something that might exist beyond our late-night conversations and shared moments.

Before I can continue imagining me and Stiles the said boy breaks my thoughts, “Hey Y/N! Come here,” He speaks, excitement in his voice but his eyes never once leaving the screen. 

I force myself out of the reverie, blinking away the vivid daydreams as Stiles called out to me. His excitement is palpable, contagious even, and I push aside the rush of emotions to focus on the present. 

I rise from my chair, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nervousness as I make my way to where Stiles is seated. He’s still hunched over the laptop, his attention entirely captured by the screen. With a careful step, I settle on the bed behind him, leaning over him enough to rest my chin on his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s got him so intrigued. 

His warmth seeps through the fabric of his shirt, radiating against my chest, a sensation I try desperately to ignore. The scent that envelopes me—a blend of old books, faint traces of motor oil and a lingering hint of coffee—should be distracting, but it’s oddly comforting. It’s quintessentially Stiles, a unique combination that feels inexplicably familiar and reassuring. 

I glance at the screen, feigning interest in whatever supernatural phenomenon has grabbed his attention. But truthfully, my focus wavers between trying to understand what he’s showing me and the proximity between us. His presence feels magnetic, drawing me in, yet I fight the urge to let my thoughts drift into forbidden territory. 

“Look at this,” He exclaims, pointing to a section on the screen. His enthusiasm is infectious, and for a moment, I forget the inner turmoil, getting lost in his excitement. 

Stiles is engrossed in explaining something on the screen, his energy palpable. I try my best to keep up, nodding along as he talks, but the proximity between us amplifies every emotion within me. 

Suddenly, he turns his head, excitement lighting up his russet eyes as he tries to make a point. His words trail off mid-sentence, and in that suspended moment, our faces are unexpected close. I feel his breath, warm against my skin, a sensation that sends a shiver down my spine. 

As if in slow motion, I notice every tiny detail—the freckles scattered across his pale skin, the way his eyes dart down to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my gaze again. My breath catches in my throat, and I’m sure he can heart the erratic beat of my heart. There's a shift in the air, an unspoken tension that crackles between us. His cheeks flush with colour, a shade of red that matches the intensity of my own emotions. I can't tear my gaze away from him, from the way his eyes flicker between mine and the way his lips part, as if searching for words that elude him. 

For a moment, time seems suspended, our silent exchange speaking volumes. I feel a surge of courage and vulnerability intertwine within me, a silent plea for something more, a leap into the unknown. 

But just as quickly as the moment arrives, it slips away. Stiles blinks, breaking the trance, and clears his throat, shifting slightly away. "Um, sorry, got carried away there," he stammers, his voice a tad higher than usual.

The air feels charged with an awkward tension, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. I try to ease the discomfort by standing up, intending to head back to my desk and salvage what’s left of our usual camaraderie. But before I can even take a step, Stiles’ hand shoots out, wrapped around my wrist in a swift motion that catches me off guard. 

Caught off guard by the sudden proximity, I stumble and practically find myself in Stiles's lap. His warmth envelopes me, and for a moment, our heartbeats synchronise in a chaotic rhythm that seems to echo the unspoken emotions between us. 

Stiles’ eyes lock onto mine, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability swirling within their depths. His tongue darts out to wet his pretty pink lips, a nervous gesture that betrays the intensity of the moment. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, his hand finds the back of my neck, drawing me closer. 

In that heartbeat before our lips meet, the world around us seems to still. His touch sends a surge of electricity through me, igniting a fire that I didn’t know was simmering within. And then, finally, our lips touch in a kiss that feels both anticipated and inevitable. 

As our embrace intensifies, the laptop becomes a mere afterthought, pushed aside to make way for the burgeoning heat between us. Stiles's movements are deliberate, his hands finding my hips with a confident touch, guiding me to straddle his lap as our bodies mold together. 

The kiss deepens, the connection between us sparking a newfound intensity. Stiles’ hands, warm against my skin, slip under the fabric of my teeshirt, sending shivers cascading down my spine. His touch is electric, fingers tracing patterns along my hips, a gentle yet possessive hold that ignites a fire within me. I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, feeling the soft strands between my fingertips as I tilt his head back slightly, deepening the kiss. There’s a dominance in his action, a confidence that surprises me but also excites me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. 

His lips move with purpose, fervent and seeking, a silent demand for more as our breaths mingle in the shared space between us. Each movement, each touch, feels like an unspoken confession of desires long kept hidden. 

My heart races as I lean into him, relishing the sensation of his lips against mine, the way his body responds to my touch. And as I lose myself in the passion of the moment, it becomes clear that Stiles, despite his usual playful demeanour, possesses a commanding presence that takes my breath away. 

As the intensity of the moment heightens, Stiles’ touch remains both from and reassuring, his hands guiding me with a tenderness that contrasts his newfound dominance. With a gentle yet firm pressure, his long, nimble fingers press against my back, coaxing me to lower myself onto him. There’s an undeniable pull in his touch, drawing me closer until I’m lying atop him, our chests pressing together in a shared rhythm. Our breaths mingle in the small space between y=us, the heat of the moment making the air around us feel charged. 

His chest rises and falls with each breath, syncing with mine, creating an unspoken harmony. The sensation of our bodies pressed together sends jolt through me, an electric current that ignites every nerve ending. 

As I rest against him, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat against mine, a rush of emotions floods over me—desire mingled with a newfound intimacy, vulnerability meshed with a sense of comfort in this uncharted territory. 

Stiles's gaze holds a mixture of passion and tenderness, a silent understanding passing between us in the shared silence. His fingers trace gentle patterns along my back, a gesture that speaks volumes, conveying a reassurance amidst the fervour of the moment. His lips part as if to speak but instead, in a very Stiles fashion, a torrent of words spill out in a hurried stream. 

“I-I've wanted to do this for so long, and I'm sorry, I should've asked, I mean, I wanted to ask, but then this moment happened, and I just... I didn't want to ruin it, but I should’ve—" He babbles, the words tumbling out faster than I can comprehend. His apology mixes with an admission that he’s wanted this as much as I have, and amidst his rambling, I can’t help but laugh softly, finding the sudden flood of words endearing. 

Before his apologies and explanations can continue, I decide to silence him the best way I know how. With a gentle yet decisive motion, I cup his face in both hands, capturing his lips in a kiss that speaks volumes, stealing away his words and replacing them with the silent language of our shared desires. 

The kiss is deliberate interruption, a way to convey everything I’ve been feeling in a single moment. It’s a tender yet firm assertion, an assurance that words are unnecessary amidst the eloquence of our connection. 

As our lips meet, I feel a shift in the air, the nervous energy dissipating into something more serene. Stiles’ initial surprise melts into a reciprocated warmth, and soon, the kiss becomes a dance of shared affection and unspoken apologies. In that suspended moment, the kiss becomes a story of its own—a narrative of unspoken emotions conveyed through the gentle meeting of our lips. Stiles's initial surprise gives way to a newfound ease, his lips molding against mine with a familiarity that feels surprisingly natural yet exhilaratingly new.

His touch, tender yet assured, ignites a cascade of sensations. His hands explore, tracing the contours of my back, sending tingles racing along my skin. There’s a delicate balance in his touch, a mix of reverence and longing that speaks volumes about the dept of his emotions. 

As our kiss deepens, I’m enveloped in a whirlwind of emotions. Stiles’ lips against mine feel like a discovery—a blend of softness and fervour, an unspoken language that surpasses any verbal communication. Each movement of our lips is a revelation, a testament to the unspoken connection between us. His closeness has a gravitational pull, drawing me in and enveloping me in a sense of security and desire. In this moment, I feel cherished, desired, and seen in a way that goes beyond mere words. 

The intensity of our kiss, a universe of emotions contained within, is abruptly interrupted by the jarring ring of Stiles’ phone. Startled, we break apart, a shared groan escaping both of us as the moment fractures, replacing by the intrusion of reality. Stiles fumbles for his phone, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. With a sigh, he answers and puts it on speaker, revealing Scott’s urgent voice on the other end, asking if Stiles had found any leads. 

As Stiles responds to Scott’s inquiries, I take the opportunity to sit back up, adjusting my position so that I’m straddling his waist. The shift seems to catch Stiles of guard, his breath hitching slightly, and I can feel the bulge pressing against my ass. I watch as Stiles bites his lip, a subtle attempt to suppress any involuntary sounds, his focus divided between the phone call and me, shifting on his lap. His eyes meet mine for a fleeting moment, and I can see a hint of frustration at the interruption, mixed with a smouldering intensity that sends a thrill through me. 

Leaning closer, I offer an apologetic smile, silently acknowledging the disruption but unable to resist teasing him but grinding my hips against his, pretending to get more comfortable on his lap. I notice the way his breath catches again and his hands dart for my hips unsure if they want to stop my hips or help me roll them against that growing bulge. 

“Sh-shit,” A moan escapes him and Scott falls silent as Stiles’ cheeks bloom a pretty shade of red, “Fuck, I gotta go, talk later.” And with that Stiles is hanging up, practically throwing his phone on the floor and in one quick moment has us flipped over so I’m laying underneath him. 

“Hi.” I breathe quietly, an ache between my legs. 

“Don’t you ‘hi’ me you little tease.” He grumbles, leaning on his elbows either side of my head. 

“What you gonna do about it?” I challenge, loving the gleam in his eyes. 

Stiles chuckles softly, his eyes dancing with mischief as he leans closer, his breath brushing against my lips. 

"Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you've started."

Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x you #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf fluff #teen wolf smut #teen wolf angst #teen wolf headcanons #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski headcanon #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x female reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinski angst #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski smut #dylan o'brien

[semicolonsspace]

Thinking about needy!Stiles and how he just wants to be inside you while you're busy reading or doing something.

Oh, Bitchhhh YES

You would be sitting there lying down on your bed, and he's just lying on your chest. His soft grabby hands are kneading your body. His hands would travel under your shirt, or rather his shirt that you stole from him.

Soft music would be playing from your radio, calming the both of you. The window is cracked, the soft low breeze blowing in. It moves your hair along with his. He shivers closer to you and you look down at him, moving the book out of your vision.

"You okay, baby?"

He groans in response, his hips grinding into your leg. You feel his harden groin rub against you and you chuckle. "I'll take that as a no."

He whimpers when your knee rubs the head of his dripping member. "Just please let me."

"Please what?" You asks curiously. At some point a bookmark is in the pages of your book and long forgotten. Your hands scratch into his scalp, soft breathing emitting from his parted lips. "Put it in you." His words spoke little with need but you know what he meant.

"Come here, love." He obeys and he crawls over you, hovering over you. He moves aside of your shorts and underwear and his dick slides against your slick folds. You hiss when he inserts into you, your cunt clenching on him. He groans when he's fully sheathed in you and he wraps his arms around you, his head going into the crook of his neck. "That better?" He nods into you, his hands grabbing the fabric on you. You continue playing with his hair and you chuckle when you hear soft snores. "Poor baby," You grab your book again and you continue reading, while one hand continues to play with his hair.

#stiles stilinski #stiles x reader smut #teen wolf #teen wolf smut #stiles x reader #dylan o'brien #stiles #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #Stiles blurb

[misskingshit]

𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 summary: You had no idea who you were talking to wasn't who you thought they were. Note: Another one bc i’m free and bored. This is like a mix of my two favorite Teen Wolf things, Stiles and Void Stiles😩.xoxo

"I'm here! I'm sorry I'm late I fell asleep" you said trying to catch your breath.

Scott's house was completely empty, you would have left if it hadn't been for a noise that was heard from the kitchen, like a glass I feel leaning against the counter.

"Guys? Is there anyone?" After quickly analyzing the situation for a few seconds, it's strange that Scott sent you a text message asking you to go home if he wasn't going to be there later, but the message said that the whole group was there... and here all the lights are off.

"Scott?" you asked again, slightly poking your head around the kitchen.

"You arrived" a familiar voice made you jump in place, behind you the figure of your pale friend appeared.

"Shit Stiles, don't do that again" you put a hand on your chest.

"I'm sorry" he said with his typical mocking tone.

Wait...Stiles shouldn't...?

"Stiles? where are the boys?" you asked frowning a little.

"Oh, don't worry, they went out to buy some things, they won't be long back."

He seemed perfect, the way he spoke, the way he moved, the way he looked at you, his tone of voice and even the way he looked, it seemed to be Stiles, but…

"You feel good?" you couldn't help but ask.

"I feel great, why do you ask?" He frowned a little at him.

"It's just that, with everything that's happening, with everything that's happening to you, you know, it seems strange to me that they leave you alone and without being tied up and that, without anyone to watch you" you stared at his eyes for a few seconds "whatever, I brought pizza, I didn't get to eat at home and..."

"Maybe that's why you're here" he says, interrupting you.

You just look at him strangely, you want to believe that he's Stiles, but you feel something strange, it's hard to explain "because of the pizza?" you tried to joke.

He just smiled sideways, without breaking the exchange of glances "no, you know that, no" he begins to get closer to you "you are here to watch him" he finally lets go.

"Watch him?"

"To Stiles."

Shit.

"You…Stiles are…" he cups your cheek and strokes it lightly, his thumb pressing against your lips to silence you.

"He thinks you're cute, very beautiful, I honestly think so too" being so close now it seems that dark circles have appeared out of nowhere under his eyes, you hadn't noticed them before.

"How come you…what do you want?" There were so many doubts you had, the confusion you had and, although you don't want to admit it, the fear, that your brain didn't know very well where to start questioning.

"I want a lot of things, that includes absolutely all your friends dead, but, Stiles wants you and somehow that makes me want you even more" he leans closer to you, sticking your bodies together "you could be my exception".

———

OK, for some reason I don't like anything I'm writing, but it is what it is, so I leave it in your hands, I hope you enjoy it.

(Remember that English is not my native language, so sorry for any mistakes.

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi smut #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #void stiles #void stiles x you #void stiles x reader #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan o'brien

[strangerstilinski]

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

[freedomfireflies]

hi! can i get a stiles blurb?? maybe injured and angsty? 😭

“Ow…ow…ow…ow, motherfuck—shit.”

You feel your eyes roll as you help the dramatic and rather needy patient settle onto your bed. “Baby, I told you to stay home—”

“Yeah, and I said no fucking way,” Stiles retorts quickly, huffing a stray hair from his eye before flopping onto the mattress. “See? I’m fine.”

You release him and step back, arms crossing as you offer a teasing scowl. “Right. A wrist brace and an angry letter from Coach are a clear indication of you being fine.”

To this, he waves his right arm into the air, the dark bandage wrapped around his hand not as intimidating as he had made it out to be. “It’s just a sprain, okay? Not a big deal.”

“Yeah, okay. Is that why you were crying?”

His expression falls. “I was not crying. I was just disappointed for my team cause they’re gonna miss me.”

“Uh-huh. So, what’s with all the ow-ing?”

He blinks. “I wasn’t ow-ing, I was just…I said wow. You know, like wow, get a load of that ass.”

You so badly want to scoff at him, but you feel the flush in your cheeks as he smirks victoriously, reaching his good hand out to loop around your hip and pull you onto the bed. 

He noses under your jaw, lips ghosting just below your ear as you feel your breath hitch. “Missed you,” he murmurs softly, his mischievous intentions now abundantly clear. “Did you miss me?”

Your lashes fall shut as his mouth travels down the curve of your throat. “Did I miss the constant bad jokes and sarcasm? No. No, can’t quite say that I—”

His teeth find your skin, pulling deviously as you gasp. You feel him grin to himself as his fingers slip beneath the hem of your top and for just a moment, you forget why you were so peeved with him in the first place.

“What was that?” he asks when you whimper at the practiced way his palm sweeps across your hip. “Did you say something?”

“I…you…this isn’t…” You aren’t making any sense and you’re so furious with yourself for letting him distract you like this. “Stiles…Stiles—”

“Yes, Princess?” 

You swallow. He’s a sadistic prick for using the one nickname you can’t help but fold to. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” His head rolls, tongue traveling up your pulse point as his hand moves up toward your chest. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t this why you called me over?”

Your fingers scratch down the soft brown hairs at the nape of his neck, knees deep in the mattress to brace yourself as you straddle his waist. “No, I…I called you over so I could…so I could take care of you—”

“You are,” he nearly purrs. “Promise you are. Always take care of me. Make me better. S’making me better right now. To feel you. To hear you—”

“Stiles—”

“What? Don’t you want me to get better?” The rough pad of his thumb brushes over your nipple as you swallow a gasp. “Hm?”

“I…” You exhale a shaky breath despite yourself, working desperately to find a response. “You…I just—”

“Words, Princess.”

But you don’t have any words. You don’t even have any thoughts in your head as you feel his touch travel down your stomach and toward your sweatpants, slipping beneath so casually that you could be fooled into thinking this was always his plan.

Which…to be fair, it probably was.

“Stiles,” you try again, a strained whisper as you bury your face in his neck. “Please…”

You hear him chuckle. Feel it, too. And you’d roll your eyes if it were any other moment, but he knows you. And he knows exactly how to play you like a fucking violin. You’re nothing but his toy and this is proven when he leans back to meet your eye.

“Say it,” he demands, fingers still just below your belly button. So close yet infuriatingly far. “Say it…and I’m all yours.”

You roll your lips into your mouth, your brain fighting your body on what it wants versus what it needs. “You…thought you were meeting Scott—”

“He can wait.”

You swallow a whine at the resolution in his voice. His determination to put you first. “You need to rest. You need to get better—”

“I am.” He leans closer, eyes falling to your mouth as you struggle to remain indifferent. “This is how I get better.” 

“Stiles—”

“What?” He pulls his lip between his teeth to suppress his smirk. “Come on, Princess. Thought you wanted to take care of me. Yeah?”

Your eyes close as you nod faintly, his nose brushing yours as your walls begin to fall. You know the rest of the group is waiting for him. Know the doctor told him to take it easy. Know that he has plenty of other things to do besides you.

And yet knowing does absolutely nothing to stop you from grinding down into his touch.

He murmurs something under his breath you don’t catch. But it sounds desperate and excited and your stomach churns. 

“Say it,” he whispers again. “Say it, baby, come on. Please say it.”

Your chest begins to heave. Your dad will be home in half an hour, and he already forbid you from seeing Stiles once and you don’t imagine you want him to do it again and you really need to get off of him and take him home and tell Scott he’s on his way and tell his dad that he’s okay and make sure Coach isn’t too upset and—

“I need you,” you hear yourself say before you can stop it. “Please…please, Stiles. I just…I need—”

He kisses you. Finally, and fervently, and it’s everything you’ve wanted since the moment he climbed through your window fifteen minutes ago and crashed to the floor. 

And he’s everywhere. You know nothing else but him and his fingers and his touch as he makes your cunt his personal plaything. As he tastes you, as he talks to you, as he lays you down on your stomach so he can ruin you from behind.

And with your face buried into the pillow and his tongue buried in you, you realize maybe he was right.

He makes you better, too.

~ Full Masterlist

~ Other Dylan Blurbs

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[silentmacabre]

stiles is so autumn coded

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[jpnriikicore]

── super shy

paring stiles stilinski x mccall!reader, word count 1k, genre fluff, authors note ngl this is my fav writing piece i've done so far 🫶🏻( masterlist )

your standing on the bleachers during a lacrosse practice before tonight’s game. as your a photographer for the year book club you decided to take a few pictures of the lacrosse team for the page that was going to be dedicated to them.

you zoomed your lens in on one player in particular, stiles stilinski. he was talking with the coach - well, more like arguing which wasn’t unusual for the two. you snap a few pictures of him. truth be told, you had a crush on stilinski since fourth grade finding the boy's humor and sarcasm charming.

as he gets back into line to continue to practice he notices you and waves at you. you back away from the camera shyly waving back at him.

you sit down on the bleachers searching through your bag to find a different lens. you were too busy with finding the lens that you completely ignored the sound of someone walking up the bleachers.

"you coming to the game tonight?" his voice slightly startled you as you look up at him. he knew that it was a stupid question. you came to every single game, but he got to nervous and just asked the first question that came to his mind.

he was always incredibly nervous in front of you. either he’s to shy to talk to you which like never happens when talking with anyone else. if you asked everybody else in the school if stiles was talkative or not they would reply that stiles never shuts up. or he would ramble on about the most stupidest topics. well, he believed that it was stupid, but you didn’t you find it to add to his charm and personality.

"yeah!" you nodded looking up at him.

"stilinski!" coach yelled grabbing the attention of the two teenagers.

"see you there," he pointed finger guns at her. she smiled at the playful action. "i-i gotta go get back to practice." he pointed with his thumb behind towards the field.

"yeah, okay. see you at the game stilinski."

luckily, stiles wasn’t on the bench anymore and actually got to play. you sat down on the bleachers next the sheriff and your mom, melissa. like normal game day your wearing braids with red ribbons and a red sweater due to the cold weather with the number '11' on the back to support your brother.

you bought your camera to take a few more pictures. though you tried to take pictures of all of the players fairly for the yearbook you couldn’t help, but notice that the majority of the pictures you took was of stiles. you put your camera down to focus on the game happening in front of you. you looked over to the scoreboard taking notice that beacon hills was winning a few points ahead.

stiles glanced over at you and now is completely emerged about the thought of you. his mind wasn’t focused on the game by any means. you looked too alluring making all his interest go on you. the wind moves a few pieces of your hair that managed to get loose from your braids that exposed '24' painted in red on your cheek. it was a small subtle thing, but it made butterflies irrupt in his stomach.

he managed to get his focus back on the game after getting snapped back into reality by scott. he threw the ball into the net scoring the last point for beacon hills to win. while the other players celebrated he searched for you in the crowd that formed on the field.

you snapped a few more pictures of the players celebrating after the win before packing up your camera equipment which lead to you being one of the last ones to get off the bleachers. you walked through the crowd trying to find your brother to tell him congratulations.

stiles found you first though rushing up to you lifting you up from the ground spinning you around. in shock a few giggles escaped your mouth. a rush of excitement and adrenaline filled stiles as his body reacted before his mind could comprehend what he was doing. he kissed you.

"do you want to go on a date with me?" the words slipped without him thinking by the time he realized it was too late to backtrack his question. he swallowed nervously waiting for your answer.

"i would love to." you nodded, smiling up at him. you held his hand as you walk to the parking lot to your truck. you could tell your brother congratulations once he got home.

you chuck your camera equipment in the passenger seat through the rolled down window of the drivers seat. once you turns around to face stiles once again he trapped you between his body and the truck. his hand resting on the truck and the other carefully cradling your jaw. he leans in kissing you yet again. you melted into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him closer. you could definitely get used to this.

"can i see the pictures you took?" he mumbled against your lips.

"yeah." you nodded reaching for the bag that sitting in the driver seat and unzips it getting the camera. you turn to him as you turn the camera on handing it to him. a bright smile paints his face.

"seems like you have a crush on someone." he teased, playfully pushing his shoulder on yours. you looks down in embarrassment kicking the small pebbles in the parking lot with you shoe.

"i've had a crush on you since fourth grade." you admitted lowly.

"i've had a crush on you since we met in the sandbox."

your face lit up at his confession. one night could truly change everything. at one point of tonight you was just childhood friends now you planned on going on a date next friday and kissed twice within the span of five minutes. what you believed was unrequited love for so many years turns out not to be as unrequited as what you believed.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2023

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #void stiles imagines #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles x reader #void stiles #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brian imagine