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imagines-for-teens · 4 years

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I Hate This Damn Jeep

(Stiles Stilinski x Reader)

Summary: when Roscoe breaks down for what must be the hundredth time, you and Stiles find a creative way to warm up while waiting to be rescued from a chilly fall night

Word count: 2,431

Warnings: public-ish smut, unprotected sex, slightly? dom Stiles if you squint

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“Are you shivering right now?”

You blew out a trembling breath, pulling your arms in tighter against your chest. “N-No.”

Stiles scoffed from beside you, seeing right through your stubborn act. You’d been sitting there, on the side of the road, for the last thirty minutes. It was the middle of November and nearly thirty degrees outside by now.

If there was one shortcoming of his beloved Jeep that he would acknowledge, it was the lack of insulation. There was pretty much nothing protecting either of you from the freezing night air.

“I’m sorry, okay? How many times do I have to say it before you’ll just come over here?” Stiles rubbed his hands together in front of him and exhaled on them in an effort to return some of the feeling beneath his numb skin.

You rolled your eyes and finally looked at him, something you’d refused to do since breaking down on the way home. “I don’t know, how many times did I remind you to replace the fuel gage?”

Stiles pursed his lips, very aware you’d nagged him countless times about that very issue. He was just always so busy and, admittedly, scatterbrained. He meant to fix it so many times, but always forgot for one reason or another.

His eyes flickered over your tense body, all hunched over and shaking, and he sighed. He loved Roscoe with all of his heart, but even he was annoyed at the current situation. It was supposed to be a quick drive home from the lacrosse game and now you were stranded.

Your eyes widened in alarm when he shrugged off his thick jacket from the driver’s seat, leaving him in only his undershirt and green flannel. “What are you doing? Stop that.”

“I’m not letting you get frostbite.” He hissed, balling up the fabric and shoving it toward you.

You glanced from his outstretched hand to his face repeatedly for a few long moments in hesitation. If the frown pulling at his lips and the crease between his brows were any indication, he wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.

“And what about you?” You took the jacket with a huff but didn’t move to put it on, resting it in your lap instead and running your fingers along the course material absently.

“I guess,” He quipped, his breath condensing in a thick cloud inches away from his lips. “You’ll just have to deal with the fact that you could’ve easily prevented my slow, painful death.”

Your face dropped into an unimpressed glower as he fumbled around beside you, trying to get comfortable. The car swayed with his spastic movements while you finally caved and slipped your arms through his jacket. You were stubborn to a fault, yes, but you were also cold as hell and very much over this situation.

You let out a content sigh as the leftover warmth trapped in his jacket enveloped your body. You wrapped the sides tightly around yourself and relaxed back into your seat.

“You know what? Sometimes I hate this damn Jeep.”

He audibly gasped and whipped his head in your direction, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You take that back right now.”

Anyone who knew Stiles knew that this car was everything to him. He’d refused to abandon it even in the pack’s most dire moments, which often caused a lot of issues. Regardless, everyone understood the sentimental value it held.

“Absolutely not.” You scoffed, turning in the passenger seat to face him. “Do you know how many times this piece of crap has broken down on us? In the last month?”

“Hey! Don’t call Roscoe names. She’s trying her best.” His voice rose incredulously, a hot spark of anger igniting in his chest.

He may love you to pieces, but that didn’t give you any right to insult his most prized possession. He would go to the ends of the earth with this car, even if it killed him.

“You do know she’s an inanimate object that’s your responsibility, right?” You deadpanned, watching with pursed lips as he slid down to rest his head on the top of the seat behind him.

He let it lull toward you, his honey eyes rounded innocently. You felt your heart skip a beat at the sight, already knowing you were going to give him whatever it was he wanted.

“Just c’mere, baby. Please? I could literally die if you don’t cuddle me right now.” He murmured, his voice gentle as he opened his arms expectantly.

You rolled your eyes, despite the fact that he wasn’t actually being that dramatic. Every one of his shaky breaths were visible in the small space between you, and the tips of his fingers were turning blue. With a sigh of defeat, you scooted across the bench seat and leaned into him.

His lips pulled up into a small, satisfied smile as one of his hands instantly moved to cradle the back of your head. You thought he was going to pull you into his chest, like he usually did when you were cuddling, but he surprised you by capturing your mouth with his.

A tiny gasp escaped your lips when his freezing skin connected with yours, but you made no moves to break the kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed as you ran your hands through his hair, eliciting a low groan from him that only spurred you on.

When you landed on the cooled skin of his neck, you pulled away, concerned. “Damn, you really are freezing.”

He hummed in disapproval and chased after your lips with a pout, his hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head as he tried to coax you back in. “I told you.”

You hiked a leg over his waist, your chest tightening with guilt at being so stubborn as you felt his body trembling beneath you.

“Want me to warm you up?” Your voice was a low murmur as you settled down into his lap.

His eyes widened fractionally, his free hand instantly moving to squeeze at your hip. You ducked your head down and began peppering gentle kisses along the column of his throat, his head tilting up to give you more access.

“Mmm. But Scott will be here any minute...”

You leaned back and quirked an eyebrow at him in amusement. “Is that a challenge?”

His eyes fluttered open lazily, and he chuckled. He wordlessly pulled you back in with the hand still tangled in your hair, connecting your lips heatedly. You returned the kiss with equal fervor, dragging your hands across his broad shoulders and down his chest.

You fisted the soft material of his flannel and ground your hips down into his. He grunted against your lips, sending a warm puff of air around your face. The hand on your hip twitched before sliding around to your front.

Stiles dipped two fingers into the waistband of your leggings and tugged the stretchy material away from your body. You shivered, a combination of his feather light touch and the rush of cold air bringing goosebumps to your skin.

Your hands moved down to the waistband of his jeans as your lips moved steadily against his. He pulled away with a trembling breath when your chilled fingers undid the button, and you groaned in annoyance.

“Are you sure you want to...?”

You rolled your eyes, loving the fact that he was always so respectful, but knowing you didn’t have time for his usual timidness. Instead of responding verbally, you grabbed the hand that still rested on the front of your leggings. Your eyes connected with his as you moved his fingers below the stretchy material, past your panties, and into your sopping heat.

He looked at you with widened eyes and parted lips, surprised that you were so turned on already. Although, he shouldn’t be that caught off guard with the way his cock had been straining in his jeans for the last several minutes.

“What do you think?” You breathed, back arching as he started thrusting his fingers slowly.

His lips moved to your neck and he hummed against you, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. You whined when his fingers pulled out of you, the complaint instantly dying on your lips as his fingers moved to your clit instead.

Your shaky fingers fumbled with his zipper, finding it hard to concentrate with the pleasure rippling through your body. One thing you loved about Stiles is that he always knew exactly how to touch you. He could make you cum in seconds if he wanted to.

Finally, you got his jeans undone and practically tore his boxers down, letting his hard cock spring free.

He instantly shivered as the freezing air hit his skin, his fingers pausing against you for a brief moment. “Fuck, that’s cold.”

You wrapped your hand around his thick length, pumping him a few times to take his mind off your uncomfortable surroundings. He let out a ragged moan at the feeling of your smooth skin against him, and tangled his free hand in your hair again.

He jerked your head toward his, losing a bit of his usual gentleness. Your lips pulled into a small smile against his, loving this side of him. It was always fun to see how much you could rile him up before he’d snap and unleash this rougher part of himself.

Your hands left him so you could slide your leggings and panties down your legs. You pulled away and let out a trembling breath as the cool night air fanned against your exposed skin, moving back to him quickly in an effort to warm up.

You lined yourself up with his tip, using the hand that was still wrapped around him to guide him inside you. Both of you let out a loud moan as you sunk down onto his length in one fluid movement.

“Shit, Y/N.” He grunted, hands instantly moving to your hips.

He wasted no time in taking control, gripping your hips tightly so he could lift you up before slamming you back down onto him. Your lips parted in a silent gasp, your head tilting back in pleasure. He was stretching you so good, moving at just the right pace, everything was perfect.

You whimpered and let your forehead fall against his shoulder as one of his hands left you to bring some attention back to your clit. He gathered a bit of your wetness and swirled it around the sensitive bud just the way you like. Your back arched, feeling your stomach tightening already.

Stiles let his head fall back against the seat and moaned hoarsely, snapping his hips up each time he thrusted you against him. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer with the way you were clenching around him. Your hands gripped the top of the seat as you felt your high building, low moans and whimpers leaving your lips with each of his movements.

“What do you want, baby?” Stiles gripped the back of your neck with his free hand and tugged your head up so he could look into your eyes.

You shuddered against him, only seconds away from falling over the edge, and huffed impatiently. “You already know.”

His honey eyes twitched incredulously and his lips pursed at your attitude. He lifted you off of him, ignoring your groan of protest, and easily pushed you down onto the seat. He was hovering over you instantly, your eyes locked onto the way he was pumping himself slowly.

“Mouthy girls don’t get what they want.” He murmured lowly, the sight of you squirming desperately beneath him pushing him closer to his own high. “Do I need to ask again?”

You chewed on your bottom lip to fight the smirk threatening to break through. You weren’t expecting him to become so dominant tonight, but you were loving every second of it. The two of you often switched between those roles, taking turns driving each other wild.

Your hands moved up to drag through his hair before you tugged him down. He let you, but paused when his lips were only an inch away from yours.

You pouted, knowing you had to give him what he wanted for him to continue. “Make me cum. Please?”

He instantly crashed his lips against yours and entered you with a harsh trust. You moaned against him, back arching up off the seat beneath you. He held himself up with one hand, the other moving back to your clit. You began trembling as you were instantly brought back to the edge.

It only took a few seconds for the orgasm to wash over you, your entire body shaking with intense pleasure. He was right behind you, coming with a series of grunts against your lips. He continued thrusting into you slowly as he rode out his orgasm, only pulling out when both of you were spent.

A satisfied smile pulled at your lips as you looked up at him with heavy lidded eyes. He pecked your lips gently and tugged his jeans back up onto his hips. “I love you.”

“Love you too, dork.” You stretched your arms over your head, noticing that your muscles were a little tense after having sex in such a tight space.

Just then, the rumbling sound of a motorcycle fluttered to your ears. Your eyes widened as you scrambled to gather your clothes from the floor. Stiles jerked upright bedside you, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel nervously as he silently urged you to hurry up.

You managed to get dressed just as Scott pulled up behind the Jeep. Stiles immediately got out as you took a second to glance at yourself in the rear view mirror, smoothing your hair down as best you could before popping the passenger door open.

Your eyes landed on Scott as he walked toward you, holding his helmet in one hand and a can of gas in the other. He smiled sheepishly as you wrapped your arms around yourself, instantly shivering against the freezing air. You suddenly felt bad for being mean to Roscoe. It was much worse without her slightly inadequate protection from the elements.

“Sorry it took so long.” Scott handed the red container to Stiles, who wasted no time in walking around the Jeep to pour it into the tank. “How did you guys stay warm, anyway?”

Your eyes widened and flickered toward Stiles, seeing his cheeks turning pink beneath the moonlight. You tried keeping your heartbeat steady and schooled your expression as you glanced back to Scott.

“We uh...cuddled.”

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imagines-for-teens · 4 years

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How Drunk Are You? (Stiles Stilinski x Reader)

Summary: You and your best friend, Stiles, can’t decide who’s more drunk after a night out with the pack. It doesn’t take long for your little competition to get out of hand.

Word count: 4,752

Warnings: drunk (but consensual) sexy times

Notes: I got this idea while drunk and may have gotten a little carried away but this one really just spoke to me so here ya go 😅

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You tumble out of the Uber, nearly falling flat on your face before a firm hand juts out of the car to steady you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” Stiles chuckles from behind you as he steps out onto the sidewalk. “You’re way more fucked up than I thought.”

You twirl around to face him, nearly losing your balance for the second time. You furrow your brows and poke a finger into his chest harshly.

“You, sir, are wrong. I’m completely sober.” You wobble a bit in your heels, and he just rolls his eyes before slamming the car door shut and waving off your driver.

He takes only one step forward before his knees buckle, almost sending him crumpling to the ground beside you. He puts a hand on your shoulder to steady himself, breaking into a fit of giggles at his own intoxicated state. He’s trying to be the responsible one but honestly, he may be more gone than you.

You can’t help but laugh along with him as you help each other to your front door. Once there, you try turning the knob before realizing with a huff that you have to unlock it first. You let go of Stiles, who nearly loses his balance again, to rummage through your purse for the keys.

The bag suddenly seems endless as you shove receipts, sticks of gum, lip gloss, and other random shit out of the way to find your keychain. Finally, after what feels like several minutes to your drunk brain, you find them.

“Ah ha!” You call triumphantly and hold them up against your dim porch light.

“Hey. I’ll prove I’m more sober.” Stiles perks up with an idea, his caramel eyes dancing with amusement. “I bet I can unlock the door without looking.”

A laugh bubbles in your chest at the image of him doing that, and you instantly hand him the keys. You don’t think he’s actually coherent enough to succeed, but you know it’ll be entertaining to watch him try.

He waggles his eyebrows at you as he takes the keys and turns so that his back is to the door. He fumbles around blindly, chewing on his bottom lip in concentration. Your breathing slows as your eyes track the movement. You swallow thickly, feeling the familiar attraction you have for your best friend—that you usually keep tightly packed away—rise to the surface.

Admittedly, you’re a horny drunk. You can’t help but flirt with everyone and anyone you encounter while out partying, including your best friends that you’d never consider sleeping with, not even while intoxicated. But Stiles was a different story.

You’d been attracted to the spaz since you met him freshman year, although it was clear nothing was going to happen due to his obsession with a certain raven haired beauty. That was a couple years ago at this point, and he’d moved on, but the two of you were much too close to act on any lingering feelings now.

You laugh again as he continually fails to unlock the door, and decide to help him out. You lean forward, your chest only an inch away from his, and wrap your fingers around his hand. He stiffens against you, but you don’t notice through your drunk haze.

You peer over his shoulder and guide the key to where it needs to be, easily unlocking the door within seconds.

“You lose.” You quip, standing up straight to smirk at him before popping the door open and skipping inside.

What you don’t see is the way Stiles stands there for several moments collecting himself. You hadn’t even done anything, he thought. You’d barely touched him and here he was, clutching his chest in an effort to slow his racing heart. He was so screwed, being alone with you right now, but he was also way too drunk to do anything about it.

He clears his throat and finally walks inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Even while completely plastered, he knows a random supernatural creature could attack at any moment. Not that a wooden door would do much to keep them out, but the action was just muscle memory at this point.

He finds you lounging on the couch, your legs dangling over the armrest. He scratches at the side of his head as his eyes trail over you, trying his best not to make his simmering lust obvious. You were easily the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and that was when you were wearing sweats.

Right now, with you laying there, your skirt riding up and your breasts peaking out from the low neckline of your crop top, he was finding it hard to control his attraction.

“It’s my turn.” You push yourself up onto your elbows and let your eyes sweep around your living room and kitchen. “I bet I can make the fries I have in my freezer without burning the whole place down.”

Stiles groans excitedly at the idea. Anything greasy sounds like the absolute best thing he could put into his stomach right now. He nods encouragingly and you sway to your feet, giggling as you almost fall once again. You take a detour and slide your heels off at the front door, sighing with content as your feet finally relax.

He follows close behind you as you prance your way into the kitchen, telling himself it’s to keep you safe but knowing it’s actually because it gives him an amazing view of your ass. You preheat the oven and pop the freezer open before crouching down to rummage through your cabinets for a pan.

Stiles wants to avert his eyes. He wants to be a respectable young man and not openly gawk at his best friend, but he can see the edge of your red lacy panties with you bending over like that. He chews on his bottom lip and watches as you search for whatever it is you’re looking for. He can’t even remember what you’re supposed to be doing with your body on display like that.

You finally find the right pan for the job and pull it out with a triumphant smile before standing upright, much to Stiles’ dismay. You place the baking sheet on the stovetop and pour out a heaping pile of fries before resealing the bag and putting them away.

You turn on your heel to face your best friend, who was still somewhat in a daze, giving him jazz hands with a big grin.

“Ta-da!” You bounce your way over to the large island in the middle of your kitchen, proud of yourself for completing the first step of your bet.

Stiles’ hooded eyes follow you, his heart racing in his chest. He honestly can’t believe how lucky he is to call you his best friend. The two of you—along with the pack of course—had gone through so much the last few years. It was a miracle any of you were still alive, although not all of you were.

It was with the realization, that life is short and that he loves the shit out of you, that he decides to throw caution to the wind. You jump up onto the island, blissfully unaware of the breakthrough he just made. He gulps, the sight of you level with him now, your mini skirt all hiked up around your thighs and your tight crop top giving him a peak of midriff almost too much to handle.

He isn’t sure if he’ll regret this in the morning, but he’s also too drunk to care. Right now, he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything. He walks toward you slowly, his eyes trailing up and down your form as if it’s the first time he’s seeing it.

Your brows furrow at his sudden change in demeanor, the darkness swirling in his caramel eyes too hard to decipher from this distance. You watch closely as he moves forward until he’s only a foot away. He leans down, still taller than you even while you’re sitting on the counter, each of his hands bracing against the marble beside your hips.

“Stiles…?” Your voice trials off in question as you search his face.

“I bet,” He swallows down the last bit of hesitation bubbling in his throat and lets his eyes flutter down to your lips. “You won’t kiss me right now.”

Your breath catches at his words. Your eyes widen and you aren’t even sure you heard him correctly. Your mind instantly starts racing with questions. Is he just saying this because he’s drunk? Or could he possibly return the feelings you’ve been harboring for years?

To be completely honest, you don’t really care. You’ve wanted him for so long, and he looks ridiculously enticing in his red flannel and black bomber jacket. It was the alcohol that made you do it, sure, but it was more so the fact that you’ve wanted to kiss this man since you met him.

You cup the sides of his face and jerk him down to you, closing those last few inches. Your lips wrestle with his and he stiffens against you as if surprised, despite being the one to initiate this. The kiss isn’t pretty. It’s messy and heated. A battle of tongues and teeth as both of you fight for dominance.

One of his hands moves to your exposed knee, the other gripping your waist firmly. He lets out a broken moan against you, his head tilting to give him more room to devour you. Your hands tangle in his hair and you arch into him as his long fingers tentatively slide beneath the edge of your crop top.

Internally, he’s freaking the fuck out. He didn’t think you’d actually do it. He fully expected you to laugh the bet off and move on, but here you are. Kissing the shit out of him. He knows that he will never be able to come back from this moment. No matter what happens after this, he has to have you.

You pull away first, breathless, not from the kiss itself but because it’s him. It’s Stiles. Your best friend. You’re honestly a little surprised that he’s such a good kisser. Sure, he’s had girlfriends over the years, but damn.

The two of you sit painfully still for several moments. Stiles is afraid that if he moves even an inch, he’ll break whatever spell had come over you. He leans forward minutely, desperately wanting to kiss you again, but you press a hand to his chest and practically shove him away.

His eyes widen as he stumbles back, nearly falling to the floor, panic tightening in his chest. Did he fuck up? You regret it already? Is everything ruined forever?

You chew on your bottom lip as you look at him. His hair is all wild, his cheeks are flushed, his lips are plump and glistening. He’s sex on legs, and you’ve barely even gotten a taste. That one kiss is all it took to ignite the lust that’d been simmering within you all night.

You pull in a shaky breath, knowing that if you’re ever going to make a move, it has to be right now.

“I bet,” You say slowly, your voice low and sultry as you watch his eyes flicker over your face. “I can make you hard without even touching you.”

Stiles sputters silently, brain short circuiting at your words. He’s frozen in place. He wants to pump a fist into the air because this is actually happening but his muscles won’t move. He just nods, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

You giggle at his dumbstruck expression as you jump down from the island, the food on the stove completely forgotten. The edge of your lips twitch up into a smirk when you take a small step toward him and he stiffens. A surge of confidence moves through you at the sight of unmistakable desire in his eyes.

You hold his gaze as you grip the edge of your top and peel it over your head slowly. You’re suddenly very grateful that past you chose to wear your favorite matching red lacy set. Stiles’ eyes instantly trail down your exposed torso, although they keep flickering back to your breasts as if unable to look away.

You run your hands slowly along your shoulders, over your chest, and down your stomach. Stiles watches every one of your movements like they’re supplying the air he needs to breathe. You push your thumbs into the waistband of your mini skirt and pull it down a fraction of an inch before letting it go with a snap against your skin.

Stiles jumps at the sound, his glazed eyes locked onto the place your hands had just been. You take a few steps toward him, swaying slightly, and can’t help but giggle. This situation really is pretty ridiculous. You’re in your kitchen, preforming a strip tease for your best friend. It’s not something you ever thought you’d do.

You don’t stop until you’re only inches away from his heaving chest. You bat your eyelashes up at him and turn around so your back is just a hairs length from him. You bend over slowly, flicking your hair over your shoulder to look up at him as you wiggle your hips sensually.

You hear his shaky intake of breath and can’t help but smirk. If you’d known the effect you had on him, you would’ve done this years ago. He’s absolutely itching to touch you. His fingers are twitching at his sides in anticipation, but he doesn’t want to overstep your boundaries.

He wants to take you. To claim you as his. Pull you back against him and ravish you like the goddess you are. But he holds himself back. The ball is in your court, and he’s going to let you have your fun until he’s sure you’re ready for him.

You stand up straight and turn to face him, eyes skimming down to the obvious bulge at the front of his jeans. A slow smile pulls at your lips.

“You lose again.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. You’re afraid that if you speak any louder, it’ll break this tension, this electricity between you.

It’s at this moment that he snaps, his earlier thoughts instantly forgotten. He just can’t take it anymore. He’s been restraining himself for years and right now, after the show you just gave him, he can’t wait even a second longer to have you.

At once, you’re in his arms. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, sliding his palms down the backs of your legs before hiking them up around his waist. You squeal against him and tighten your thighs to hold yourself up.

His hands are on your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he blindly walks both of you toward the stairs. He doesn’t need to look. He has the entire layout of your house memorized after being here almost daily for years. He clambers up to the second floor, staggering and pausing a few times to deepen your kisses.

You feel feverish. His skin on yours is causing some sort of reaction. You’re burning up, hot crackling desire twisting in your stomach. You don’t even realize that he shoves his way through your bedroom door until he tosses you onto your bed. You bounce a few times, bracing your hands on the soft mattress to keep yourself upright.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him at the foot of your bed. He’s looking at you with this heat, this need. It makes you want to give him anything he asks for. You’re his, whether he knows it yet or not. You’re completely gone for your spaz of a best friend.

He suddenly takes a step forward and grips your ankles in each of his hands. He jerks you toward him until your legs are dangling off the edge of the bed. He pulls them apart and stands between them before dropping to his knees. Your eyes widen knowingly, a spark of excitement igniting in your chest.

“I bet I can make you cum in less than five minutes.” He smirks at the awestruck expression overtaking your face.

You nod your head enthusiastically, wanting nothing more than for him to ease the throbbing need between your legs. He runs his fingers up your shins, torturously slow, before stopping to squeeze your thighs gently. His eyes never leave yours as he moves higher and higher, dangerously close to exactly where you want him.

Stiles leans up and connects your lips again, this time a languid kiss as he lightly guides you down to the bed. You prop yourself up onto your elbows as he peppers gentle kisses down the column of your throat. A shudder moves through you at the feeling of his hair brushing against your heated skin as he moves across your collarbone.

He traces a path down your chest, stopping at your breasts to lap at your hardened nipples. You moan loudly, the feeling of his warm breath against you, along with the course material of your lacy bra enough to make you cum on its own.

He moves lower and lower until his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your skirt. His lips never leave you as he tugs it down over your hips before discarding it somewhere on the floor behind him. Your panties quickly join the pile as you shiver on your bed, dripping core now exposed to the chilly air of your bedroom.

Stiles’ darkened eyes flicker up toward yours as he parts your thighs and dives between them. You cry out when his tongue expertly brushes your clit, throwing your head back against the mattress. One of his hands glides up to squeeze your hip, while the other teases your entrance.

A pitiful whimper escapes you when he inserts a finger. It’s so long and thick and wow you’re really doing this with your best friend. He groans against you, sending delicious vibrations through your body. One of your hands tangles in his hair, pulling harshly when he flicks his tongue against your sensitive bud again.

You steal a glance down toward him and feel your heart swell at the look he’s giving you. His eyes are shining with adoration as he laps at your core like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Your eyes roll back when he pushes another finger inside you and starts pumping them quickly. You feel your stomach tightening already as his free hand snakes up to pinch your nipples delicately.

“Stiles…” You murmur breathlessly, back arching as another wave of pleasure crashes down onto you.

He nearly explodes in his jeans at the sound of his name on your lips like that. His eyes pinch shut as he tries to reel in his own desire so he can fully focus on you. He groans against you at the feeling of your core clenching around his fingers. He pulls them almost completely free before slamming them back inside, smirking at the way it makes you whine.

All it takes is one more lick against your clit, and you’re coming. You cry out, your body trembling from head to toe as intense waves of pleasure move through you. Stiles can’t help but moan at the sound as his free hand slides across your stomach to push you down against the bed.

He doesn’t stop until you sag against the mattress, completely spent. He finally pulls away, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand as a big grin overtakes his face. He’s been wanting to do that for way too long, and honestly can’t believe it just happened for real. He’s imagined it enough times to know it would be amazing, but that had exceeded his expectations.

You’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. All sweaty, flushed chest heaving, pupils blown wide from pleasure that he gave you. A sense of pride swells in his chest at the fact that he was able to make you feel so good.

Once you snap out of your blissful haze, you sit upright and jerk him toward you. You hungrily devour his lips, not feeling the least bit satiated by that mind blowing orgasm. You want—no, need—him. Right now.

He clambers up onto the bed, one of his hands moving to cup the back of your head as he climbs on top of you. You slide your hands along his shoulders beneath his flannel and practically rip it from his body. Next comes his undershirt, followed by the belt around his waist.

Your shaky hands fumble with the button of his jeans for a few seconds before he bats them away to undo it himself. Within seconds they’re gone too, joining the pile of clothes on your carpeted floor. You drag your fingers down his broad chest, pausing over the small patch of hair between his pecks.

He shudders against you, lips leaving yours to suck and lick his way down your neck. You palm him through his boxers and he grunts lowly, stiffening at the feeling. A trembling sigh falls past your lips as you explore his hard length through the thin fabric.

Suddenly impatient, you use both hands to pull the barrier down, eyes widening as his cock springs free. It’s so much bigger than you imagined. You’d spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about your best friend’s dick, but it still hadn’t prepared you for the real thing.

You wrap your fingers around him and he freezes against you. He presses his forehead to your shoulder as you pump him slowly. A moan rumbles through your chest at the feeling of him so exposed, so primal on top of you.

All he can do is huff out a few quick gasps as just your fingers set his body ablaze. He honestly feels like he might combust with the way his heart is sputtering in his chest. It takes every ounce of his willpower to peel your fingers away from him. He knows he won’t last long and he desperately wants to be inside you.

“Can I…is it okay if…” He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say. He’s so tightly wound, so high off your presence that he can barely string his thoughts together.

“I have condoms.” You breathe, trying to convey with your eyes how much you want this. How much you want him.

He swallows thickly, hesitating for only a moment before sliding onto the floor to rummage through the bedside table you’d gestured toward. He pulls out a single foil packet and moves to sit next to you on the bed. He glances between his shaky hand and your eyes, suddenly needing reassurance.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He breathes, heart clenching in his chest at the possibility of you saying no.

Even if you do, he has to give you this moment to decide. He’s painfully aware that both of you are very intoxicated and may regret this in the morning. But he also knows that he’s wanted you for years and it might just kill him to stop now.

You trail your fingers along the side of his face, eyes rounding at the respect he has for you. You really love the idiot sitting in front of you, a realization that makes you lean forward and close the distance between you.

“Stiles,” You mumble against his lips. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to lose my mind.”

His eyes widen in shock at your urgency and he chuckles, tearing the small package open and rolling the condom on quickly. He reconnects your lips and pushes you down onto the bed gently. You wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the base of his skull.

Your head tilts back, a long moan escaping you as he enters you in one swift motion. His eyes pinch shut tightly as he braces a hand against your headboard to steady himself. All he can do is grunt and gasp for air as your heat clenches around him. After only a few trusts, he knows he’s going to explode any minute.

He slides an arm under your arched back and turns you both so that he’s now laying on the mattress. Your knees settle on either side of his thighs and his brows furrow as he grips your hips tightly.

“Please…” Stiles groans, not even sure what he’s asking for. You’re everywhere. Around him, on top of him, your delicious smell is enveloping his every sense with his head on your pillow. It’s all too much.

You press your palms onto his chest and swirl your hips, pulling a broken moan from him. You lift yourself up before gliding back down slowly, wanting to see how long you can tease him before he’ll snap. The memory of the way he’d lost control earlier has your core clenching around him. You want to see that again.

“Y/N, I c-can’t…”

You lean down to steal a quick kiss, almost instantly reading his mind. He flips you over again, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip as he starts pounding into you, hard. Your head knocks into the headboard with each of his jerky movements, but you don’t care.

Your stomach tightens and you whimper, not expecting to cum again so quickly. None of your other partners had ever gotten you off more than once in a session. Stiles brings a hand down blindly to rub quick circles over your clit and you cry out against his lips.

Within seconds, you’re both tumbling over the edge, a chorus of moans and shaky breathing the only sound in your otherwise quiet bedroom.

He collapses onto the bed beside you, chest heaving as he tries to make sense of what the fuck just happened. The lustful haze is clearing from his mind as his orgasm fades away. He’s left laying there, his best friend—who he just fucked—only inches away.

He lets his eyes trail over to you slowly, honestly terrified of what he’ll find. He needs to know what you’re thinking. His eyes search yours, but they’re guarded. Unreadable. He instantly starts panicking, heart sputtering in his chest as he bolts upright and quickly discards the condom in your trash can.

Your brows furrow from your position beside him, surprised by his sudden movement. A wave of exhaustion comes over you. It’s a mixture of the alcohol and the mind blowing sex you just had, and all you want to do is sleep it off.

You reach forward to clasp a hand around Stiles’ wrist, stopping him just before he stands from the bed. “Where are you going?”

Your heart falls into your stomach at the thought of him trying to run away from what you’d just done. There wasn’t a single part of you that regretted it. You wanted to do that since you met the idiot, so there was no way you’d be going back on it now.

You honestly didn’t even care if the two of you ever slept together again. You just needed him in your life. You weren’t going to let him disappear on you just because you gave into a night of passion.

“Oh. I-I didn’t know if you…you know, would want…” He stammers, eyes widening at the frown on your face. Maybe he misread the situation.

“Of course I want you to stay, you big dork.” You chuckle, tugging on his arm again.

His lips twitch into a grin, relief washing over him. He crawls back into the bed, peeling your comforter away so that you can join him beneath the warmth. You instantly curl into his chest, his arms wrapping around you in a familiar gesture. You’d cuddled many times before, but never like this. Never naked.

Stiles tries thinking of anything else to fight off his growing erection. Now was not the time for round two. You were basically asleep against him, your breath slowing to an even rhythm. He pulls you in tighter and lets his eyes flutter closed, knowing there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

The last thought that flickers through his mind before he drifts off is that he could definitely get used to this new aspect of your relationship. He only hoped, come morning, that you’d feel the same.

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