#stiles Stilinski imagine

[fourmoony]

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱. 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞. 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞.

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝. |𝟐.𝟖𝐤|

|𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.|𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝟐)|

I liked the way his breath felt on my neck, warm, but still somehow able to raise goosebumps across the surface. It was the same way his touch ignited fire, yet left coldness in its wake. He made me dizzy with his attention to detail, the way he'd leave my head spinning and vision blurry all because he knew exactly what buttons to press and when to press them. He was rough, and yet careful, like every move was calculated in an effort not to cause me unnecessary pain, and he never left any unintentional bruises. Time after time, he made me feel intoxicated by the taste of his tongue - sometimes his spearmint toothpaste and sometimes, me. He was god like, when he had me like that, and I knew he liked the power trip, knew he liked to feel superior in this one part of his life he could control; me.

I never questioned his abilities, never doubted how easily he could turn me to putty in his hands. I liked to be looked after, liked the feeling of everything in our chaotic lives slipping away for the moment, being replaced with absolutely nothing but the feeling of being with him.

Stiles Stilinski knew exactly how to play me, until I was singing like a canary, his name falling off my tongue like a prayer, like gospel, like I should get down on my damn knees and pray to him - and if that would make me feel like that forever, I would.

But I wasn't an idiot, I knew the rules, knew the deal. I knew that the things we did, the way we made each other feel, I knew it was to serve one purpose - other than pure, filthy pleasure - a distraction. In Beacon Hills, it was rare to have a mind occupied by anything other than what supernatural creature was lurking in the shadows, trying to make its way into the light. Our agreement served as a distraction to the nightmares, the stress and the anxiety of the lives we lead. It was an out. A glorious, toe curling, filthy, out.

"I can't see a thing." Stiles complained, voice raised so he could be heard over the pounding of the rain against his windscreen and the screeching of his wipers, fighting against the persistent awful weather, despite having little affect.

I watched from the passenger seat as he squinted his eyes, leaning closer to the window as though that would help. The car swayed with the heavy wind, headlights doing little to illuminate the reserve road in the dead of night. The blanket wrapped around me was damp, my body shivering uncontrollably despite the heat in the car being up full blast. I couldn't find the energy to talk, to agree that the weather was possibly too dangerous to be driving in, that maybe we should have stayed at Scott's place until it was clear. But I also knew that staying there, with everyone else, meant having to stew in the memories and emotions of the previous twenty four hours.

Stiles noticed my lack of response a moment later, looking over to find me already staring at him. His eyes didn't stay with mine very long, returning to the road a moment later in the name of safety. I had silently thanked him for that.

The storm had been brewing for days, dark skies and heavy clouds were dead set over Beacon Hills, a form of warning for what was to come. Most of the county would remember the storm as the one that destroyed their flowers or knocked over their garden furniture. I'd forever remember it as the storm that signified the end of the latest battle against foreign supernatural creatures. I was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of constantly looking over my shoulder, of needing distractions, of the nightmares and the insomnia and delusions and of the drama of it all.

I wanted to feel normal, again.

I wanted to shower and change out of my dirty, bloody clothes and climb into fresh sheets and my comfortable mattress.

Stiles' porch light was off, which meant that the Sheriff was at the station, likely dealing with the ever-ringing storm-related phone calls. I barely questioned why he hadn't taken me home, like I'd asked. Maybe it was because his house was closer, less dangerous to drive to, or because he knew I shouldn't have been left alone. We made it into the house in silence, into his bedroom in silence, before I finally spoke up.

He'd set out clothes for us on the radiator, warming them for our exit from the shower, and was messing around with the heat settings.

"Do you think things will go back to normal now?" I asked, rather naively.

We both knew the answer.

Just like he knew what I wanted to hear.

Stiles stood up, a softness in his eyes I only ever saw when we were clothed, and put his hands on either side of my head, tangling them in my damp, matted hair, "For a while, maybe."

I nodded.

He was gentle with me while we showered, letting the soap melt away with the adrenaline of the previous hours. Reality had started to set back in, my mind already fighting and kicking the bad thoughts, desperate for distraction.

When we were done, washed of the day's exertions and back in his bedroom, I started to feel the familiar kick of adrenaline. It was the familiar feeling of his hands, gentle on my skin as they left goosebumps in their wake, heat swirling within me to takeover from cold, emptiness. His eyes were dark, hollow, the way they often were when we fucked. It was a sure reminder that there were to be no emotions, no feelings involved in this act. We were different when we were like this. We weren't best friends with the same sarcastic humour, we were two people, pleasing and distracting one another the only way we knew how. We might as well have been strangers.

My towel didn't last long, dropped in a damp heap along with Stiles'. His room was dark, lights off aside from the red glow of the lamp attached to his investigation board. His hands grasped at the skin on my waist, head tilting down until his nose gently brushed my own. I found myself lost in the darkness of his eyes, drowning in them, captured and unable to look away. He was powerful then, in control, in so many ways. I knew thats what he got off on, having at least one thing in his chaotic life that he could control.

"Hands and knees, baby." It comes as a whisper and yet I still feel the weight of it's power pressing down on me, pushing the air from my lungs.

I'd do anything he said, be anything he wanted me to be, all because of the way it - he - makes me feel.

I nod once, leaving his hold and making my way to his bed. He watches me as I situate myself, unknowing that he's barely even touched me and the metaphorical elastic band is pulling taught in my stomach, already. I taste the anticipation like acid on my tongue before a storm, feel myself slipping into the familiar mind space he always sends me to - the one free of worry and anxieties, the one with only him and the pleasure he ensues.

When he joins me, hands on my hips and pelvic bone flush against my ass, I whine. I whine at his patience, and my lack-there-of. I whine because he's so close, and not close enough.

Stiles leans forwards, warm torso flush against my back, an exact copy of my own position and links his fingers through mine. His entire being surrounds me, engulfs me, takes over, and I give the entirety of myself to him, just as I always have.

"Stiles-" I pant, embarrassingly so as he's barely even touched me, "Please."

He kisses my shoulder, uses his left hand to push my hair off of the bare skin, lights it on fire beneath his lips. My head tilts back into the side of his neck, the feeling of him brushing against me too much and not enough all at once. The air is heavy, both from the storm raging outside and the atmosphere in his room, and I struggle to breathe.

"Please what?" His voice is hollow, a shell of a man, emotionless and it sends a chill down my spine.

"Fuck me."

He pushes my shoulder blades, arching my back which he kisses, down my spine until he reaches my tail bone. One arm wraps itself around my front, palm flat against my stomach, warm and it sends a flutter to where I need him most.

I clench my jaw, fighting the urge to push back against him.

"Tell me if it gets too much, I'll stop." Stiles speaks into my slickness, the air his mouth exudes causing me to clench around nothing.

I nod, sure that if I speak, I'll let out a pleading sob for him to do something, anything to get me to my release.

I feel him seconds later, a single finger gently making its way through my folds until he makes his way back to my clit. I let out a moan in relief. Everything floods away until all I can feel is him, him, him. He's careful, precise, teasing me in a way that will make sure I'm ready for him. I shove my face into his jersey sheets, hoping to quiet the whimpers leaving me as he circles his finger slowly, all too slowly.

"I need you to be loud tonight, baby. Don't want to hear anything but you." Stiles finally talks, the permission I need to let go.

It's all not enough, but the energy is too much, the built up is too much, the adrenaline is too much.

Stiles pulls back, I hear the sound of him licking me from his fingers, roll my eyes because even though I can't see it, I know how hot he looks. He pulls my hips up and onto his lap, my torso following until my back is against his chest. I hold onto the headboard in front of me and sink down when he pushes my hips in the direction. My head falls back onto his shoulder in relief and pleasure, a choked gasp leaving my lips. Stiles' fingers flex, his teeth sinking into my shoulder, muffled groan leaving him as I land on his thighs.

One hand leaves my hips, wraps around my front to slide up my body and land on my throat. He squeezes gently as I melt into him, drunk on the full feeling he gives me, on how nice he's pressed against that one spot inside of me that makes me go weak. I whimper and wine as I move my hips gently and he lets me for a moment. I can feel his head turned slightly to watch my facial expressions in the red hue lighting of his room. It's sexy and sultry and exactly what we both need.

"Sit still. Want to see how long you can last while I play with you." Stiles orders, hand leaving my neck to join his other on my opposite hip.

I stop immediately, willing to do anything he says, anything he wants. He's got me. Well and truly.

One of his hands grabs at my boob, squeezing roughly. I clench around him, head falling forwards between my outstretched arms on his headboard. I arch forward slightly and he shifts inside me, both of us moaning at the feeling. His other hand reaches down, collects my pooling wetness and picks up a soft pace on my clit.

I gasp, the feeling too much.

I can feel him smirk against my shoulder, pace picking up on my clit until I have to force myself not to buck against him. The band in my stomach pulls tighter, tighter, until I feel dizzy.

His name falls from my tongue along with words and phrases I don't even register, so drunk on my nearing orgasm that I lose all sense of self. All I know is him, him, him. His pleasure, his fingers, the way he feels inside me, still and full and how his skin is pressed against mine and how he's egging me on, telling me to let go, his hand around my throat, forcing my head to lull back onto his chest.

I'm high pitched, tense, all his for the taking, and when I finally register that I'm seeing white, that I'm cumming, screaming out for him, he lifts me up, only to slam me back down onto him, my hands too weak to hold onto the headboard, to hold me up as I gasp and moan and that his hand around my throat is the only thing keeping me upright.

He doesn't stop, fucks me through my orgasm, lifting me up and down on him until my vision comes back red and blurry.

I hear him tell me, somewhere near or far, how good I am, how well I'm doing as he moves me, onto my back and he's hovering over me. I smile as he looks down, makes sure I'm okay.

I still need him, like some kind of drug, I need to feel that kind of high again.

He's rough when he slams back into me, lifting one of my thighs to his waist to get a better angle. This time I watch his face, speckled with little moles and beading with sweat as his hips snap forcibly back and forwards.

Stiles attaches his lips to my collarbone, opening after a moment to bite down. I moan louder, the feeling of his teeth against my skin adding to the heat in my stomach. His hands are everywhere, pressing against my stomach, scraping against my skin, playing with my tits.

His hips snap feverishly against mine, profanities leaving both of our mouths so loud it drowns out the storm outside. He feels so good, feels intoxicating as he fills me, every inch, every part of him hitting every spot where I need him.

"Stiles-" I gasp out when he reaches for my clit, thrusting halting only for a second until he gains his balance.

His silhouette hovers over me, looming and dark and ominous. I notice then that he's not Stiles, not the sweet sarcastic know it all boy I've known all my life. He's a ghost of himself, wrapped up in pleasure and sex and it's fucking hot.

He lifts both of my legs until they rest in his arms, his length still repeatedly slamming into me at new angles. I scream, beg, feel like I should pray at his godly actions as I feel myself starting to slip again. I lose track of reality, lost in him and only him, in his pleasure and encouraging but filthy words as he holds his relentless pace, my body burning, searing with pleasure. It's all gone, the red hue of the room, the soft jersey sheets, the sorrow of the last twenty four hours, the stress, anxiety, he's taken it all away.

His hands leave my thighs and they fall to his waist, one of his arms sliding around my back. He picks me up, lifts me ever so slightly until I'm angled against him, his thrusts getting sloppy as his own release nears.

"You're so fucking good." I can hear him say before he leans forward to take my nipple in his mouth.

I scream his name, head hanging into the air, eyes squeezed shut, body completely wrecked as he fills me, over and over and over. His teeth bite at the skin of my breast roughly, hips battering my own, hitting that perfect spot every time. I'm so far gone I barely register when he reaches down to draw tight figure eights on my clit that send me soaring into my orgasm, screaming and clutching at him.

Stiles follows with a few sloppy thrusts, his hands a bruising grip on my hips, my name falling from his lips like honey, before he spills inside me, fucking himself back into me slowly, a sickening grin on his face.

My back hits the mattress abruptly, sticky against my sweaty back. His body returns to hovering over me. Stiles is back, sweet, caring, Stiles, who looks at me like he's scared he's broken me. I struggle to breathe, struggle to come back to reality. I can still feel him everywhere, his hands, his mouth, teeth, his body.

His eyes are soft, fingers running over my cheek bones to collect fallen tears.

"Are you okay?" He asks, gently.

I smile, eyelids heavy, "Better than okay."

He chuckles softly, presses a gentle kiss to my forehead and rolls to the side where he reaches for our discarded towels. I whine and flinch while he cleans me off, but happily roll into his arms, satisfied and well and truly distracted, when he pulls me into him.

We talk for a while, voices quiet in the heat of the storm outside, until eventually we both drift off into a dreamless sleep, content and happy.

[sweet-pea-channie]

Never have I ever - Stiles Stilinski Imagine

Author: @sweet-pea-channie​​

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!reader

Words: 4,7k+

Warnings: underage drinking, spicy questions, oral (f receiving), fingering, slight begging, swearing, overstimulation

Requested by @moumouton4​​: I have a request It's a Stiles x fem!reader and the pack are having a party and they are playing a drinking game where they ask each other questions and people who have already done the thing have to drink, but as the game progresses the questions get more sexual "Who did it in a car? Who did it in high school? ) and Stiles and Y/n drink every time but no one knows they are together, and the suspicious ones ask more and more direct questions to make them confess

AN: This was so much fun to write! AAAAAH. Also I was struggling with myself, because I didn’t know if I should make it smutty or not, so I decided to go with that. I really hope you like it! :) 

Masterlist

“Okay, never have I ever cheated on a test,” Lydia said and waited for everyone’s reaction. 

“C’mon, Lydia. That’s boring,” Malia groaned as she leaned back into her chair. 

“Well, I have never. So I don’t have to drink,” Lydia said proudly and told you to hurry up with a single hand motion. 

You couldn't help but sigh as you reached for your glass and lifted it in the air. “Well...”

Everyone else reached for their glasses as well and all took a sip. They definitely hadn't imagined these questions when Kira suggested playing Never Have I Ever.

The party at Lydia's was in full swing after Mason had once again shown up with half the school, and so you had looked for a "quiet" corner outside in front of the pool under the canopy. Even Liam and Mason, who were actually now almost responsible for the party, had joined you. And of course Mason was the first one who thought that Kira's suggestion was perfect and had started directly with a statement. But if the questions would remain so normal, you were sure that soon everybody would be very drunk. Well, everyone for whom alcohol at least had an effect.

“Okay, okay, how about this? Never have I ever made out in the janitor’s closet,” Malia said and looked at Lydia. Because it was clear to everyone that this time, our strawberry blonde friend had to drink. Lydia just rolled her eyes and drank without saying a word. Stiles also reached for his glass, followed by Scott and Kira. 

"Who the fuck did you make out with in the janitor's closet?" asked Scott Stiles, before looking at Malia, who shook her head.

"Um...," Stiles stammered, trying to come up with a lie that his best friend wouldn't notice. "This isn't truth or dare."

"Barely saved it," Scott laughed.

The game continued as you watched Stiles reach for his phone and type furiously on it.

Sti: Why didn’t you drink?  

You: It wasn’t in the janitor’s closet. 

Sti: It was. 

You: It was the room in front of it. That’s not the closet.

Stiles sighed and was quickly putting his phone away again when Scott beside him nudged him. "Who are you texting with now? Like, that girl you apparently made out with at the janitor's closet?"

"Maybe," Stiles replied, picking up his glass again.

"So if it wasn't Malia, who was it? Come on, Stiles, tell us. We want to know who managed to wrap you around their finger again," Scott kept on insisting that Stiles would tell us.

"As if anyone would volunteer to make out with him now," you laughed, seeing Stiles give you a dirty look.

“Is it Liza from trig?” Scott asked as he nudged Stiles again. 

“No,” Stiles shook his head. “Not her.”

“Who is it then?”

"Can we just get on with the game?" begged Stiles, who by now was sitting slightly flushed in front of us.

"Maybe, we'll get it out of him if we can get him to keep drinking," Liam said, getting right on with the game.

Once again, Stiles gave you a nasty look, which you skillfully ignored. You knew exactly why he gave you that look. After all, it was you who didn't want to tell anyone about your secret meetings. Not because you didn't want to be seen with him, no. It had nothing to do with that. It had more to do with the fact that no one would take it seriously, given with your past.

It was known to everyone when you transferred to Beacon High that Stiles had a bloody nose because of you. He claims it was accidental. But secretly, you both knew that you hit the ball so hard against his face on purpose back in gym class.

If it wasn't for Allison back then, you never would have gotten into the friendship circle either. But since you were both new to the school, you couldn't help but become friends. And so she dragged you along all the time. And of course, she had to fall in love with Scott. Endless meetings you had to endure with her, Scott, and Stiles. Allison and Scott had tried to set you up several times back then. But somehow the chemistry between you was not right. You were always bickering and fighting.

But at some point you noticed, that the tension between you two was so much different from what you thought. 

“Never have I ever used handcuffs or other implements,” Mason said, grinning at Stiles. It was clear to everyone that Stiles had to drink. After all, he was the sheriff's son. And of course he reached for the glass, followed by Malia and Lydia. While everyone looked at Lydia in shock, no one noticed that you also took a sip from your glass and thus drank your glass empty. 

"What you?" asked Kira, horrified. 

“He said other implements, right? Doesn’t have to be the handcuffs,” she huffed out and took another sip, probably just wanted to taste her vodka soda once more. 

And while Malia, Liam, and Mason were trying to squeeze the information out of Lydia, no one had noticed Scott reaching for his cell phone to start writing messages. Even you were too caught up in the conversation from the teens. 

Scott had seen something, and he was probably the only one. But he needed to share his thoughts with someone now. 

Scott: Did you see Y/N always drinking when Stiles did, too?

Kira: What do you mean?

Instead of answering, he just gave her a look. It took Kira a moment to catch on, but when she understood what Scott was trying to tell her, her mouth dropped wide open. She had never expected this. Never. Before that would ever happen, she was still sure Peter would finally get it that he was evil and switch to the good guys. 

"Are you sure?" she whispered to Scott, looking at you. Your expression didn't let on that you were attracted to Stiles, though. You took the furthest chair away from him, as always, but not right across from him, or you'd have to keep looking at him, at least that was always your reasoning. And even so during the party you were never where Stiles was. But now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember where Stiles had been all evening either. He had also disappeared for a while. 

"Maybe we need to ask more specific questions. If they both drink all the time, maybe, we'll find out. They both don't have superpowers. They get drunk and eventually tell the truth," Scott chimed in, quickly pulling back from Kira as everyone looked at him. "What?"

"Your turn," you said as you refilled your glass. "And please stop with the boring questions Lydia always asks."

"I don't ask boring questions!" defended Lydia, but Liam also felt that the questions could be a little spicier. 

"They may not be boring to you. But they are to us."

"Aren't you only 14?" asked Stiles, raising one of his eyebrows. 

"I just had my birthday last week, remember? We celebrated my 16th birthday together!" retorted Liam, horrified. "Plus, I have a girlfriend right now, and you don't."

Stiles then gave Liam a warning look to continue keeping your little friendship plus secret, but he didn't know that Scott and Kira had now made it their mission to expose it. 

“Okay, never have I ever...”

Not so carefully anymore, you tried to push your way back out through the crowds of people. Your inebriated state didn't make it any easier, of course, and again and again you found yourself bumping into someone or running into an object. All the drinking eventually led to you having to empty your bladder while the others continued to play the game outside.

The party in here was still in full swing and the house was filling up with more and more people. Luckily, Lydia's mother was traveling for the whole weekend and would hopefully not notice any of this. After the party at the boathouse escalated that much last year, she wasn't so excited about Lydia and her parties anymore, because you could see the traces of the party everywhere around the house. But Lydia just could not be stopped.

Back outside, Mason was sitting on the armchair you had made yourself comfortable on before, and his place on the floor, where he was only sitting on a cushion, was free. You looked at him annoyed, but got a shrug back from him. "My butt is starting to hurt."

But one look to the left was enough to make your heart start racing. After all, Stiles had previously been sitting next to Mason on the two-seater along with Scott. However, to maintain your image, you gave a short grunt and rolled your eyes as you sat down on the cushion in front of the couch. Your back was leaning against the couch and Stiles' leg was inches away from you.

Of course, Scott immediately noticed that your heart began to race. But not just yours. He glanced over at his best friend sitting to his right and grinned at him.

“What?” Stiles asked confused and Scott could hear him being tipsy or much rather almost drunk. 

“Nothing.”

Lydia reached for your glass that was on the other end of the table and gave it to you with a simple nod. “You good?”

“Tipsy, but good. Not feeling too drunk.”

“Maybe we could stop playing?” Lydia suggested and looked around, but Kira was already shaking her head. She and Scott had not yet succeeded in their plan. 

"Just two more questions. Or until everyone finishes their glass," Kira said quickly, pointing to her glass. "I don't have much left in it at all."

"Okay, then you ask a question," Malia countered, apparently not really in the mood for the game anymore either and preferring to mingle with the crowd. After all, she loved to dance. 

“Okay, never have I ever faked an orgasm.”

Laughing, you reached for your glass and took a big sip of, probably too big of a sip, because Stiles' gaze was immediately on you when he saw you had drunk a third of the glass. "Come on, Kira, come up with something better. We're women, it's normal."

And sure enough, all the girls in the round had been drinking. Stiles and Scott were completely beside themselves. Of course, now they thought it was their fault as men, and now they were questioning whether they were that bad in bed. 

"Did you see that?" Kira whispered to Scott, while Mason and Liam questioned you in the meantime why you always had to fake your orgasms. 

"That you've been drinking?"

"No," Kira sighed, sliding even closer to Scott. "When Y/N was drinking, Stiles' eyes went straight to her, not Malia. Surely he should have given Malia such a shocked look and not Y/N? Besides, Y/N only had this friendship plus once with this guy who was a year above us at the time. And I'm sure she always said that sex with him was pretty boring. I don't think she experienced that much with him."

"Okay, that's way too much information for now. But I have an idea how we can blow their cover. Trust me."

"Never have I ever slept with someone of the same sex," you tossed in. Who knew which of your friends were out doing something experimental. Of course, Mason rolled his eyes and let out a quiet duh. But Malia and Lydia also reached for their glasses. You widened your eyes and mouth as you looked at Lydia. You weren't shocked that she had done that. Rather, that she hadn't told you. "Why didn't you ever say that?"

“Well, somehow you are quite busy lately,” she replied, pressing her lips to a thin line. “I’m wondering why...”

You didn't even try to answer her question, because you were sure that you would say something wrong, which she would never believe anyway. Therefore, you thought it would be the easiest just to shrug your shoulders. Lydia just shook her head with a slight grin. She was sure it had to do with a boy. However, she hadn't seen all the hints, like Scott and Kira. 

But while you were trying to get out of the situation, you hadn't even noticed that you had been leaning further and further to the left and by now you had already leaned completely against Stiles' leg. Of course, Kira noticed immediately, followed by Stiles, who had unconsciously put his hand on your shoulder. For him it was already normal to feel the body proximity of you, at least as long as you were alone and never among your friends. 

Scott cleared his throat and readied himself for the ultimate question. He knew he was going to uncover it now. At least, he hoped he would. "Never have I ever had sex in Stiles' jeep."

Kira was so shocked by Scott's question that she had already opened her mouth so wide before anyone could even take a sip. So Scott and his friends could now watch as Stiles, Malia and likewise you drank. Of course, you were so out of it that you hadn't considered that this one gesture would now reveal everything. 

When Malia put her glass back down, she looked at you confused as you still held the glass to your mouth and at the same time as Lydia, she retorted a quiet "What?!"

However, Lydia's was not as quiet as Malia's, she shouted it so loudly that everyone in the circle was startled and now looked at you and Stiles as well. 

"I knew it," Scott laughed, jabbing Stiles with his shoulder. 

"What's going on... I don't really understand what's going on right now," Stiles stammered as he set his now empty glass down on the table. 

"Okay, I understand that you've been drinking, Stiles. And Malia too, of course. But you! Y/N!...and Stiles?!!" still yelled Lydia, as it was also a bit louder around you. However, she screamed, but mainly because she still could not believe it. 

“Oh shit,” you mumbled as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “I just blew it, right?” 

“Yeah, I think you did,” Stiles said, taking a deep breath. 

"So it's true. You two-" Scott began, but was interrupted by Lydia. 

“Wait, hold up. So you’re trying to tell me that you two are sleeping together?! I mean... it’s amazing! I was always rooting for you two because of all the sexual tension going on between the both of you, but you always made me think that you two didn't really like each other. You made it clear to me several times. How could you?!"

“I’m sorry, okay. And yes, Stiles and I we’re... you know-”

“Together?” Kira asked. 

“Yeah, you could say so. We never made it official, I guess,” Stiles replied simply, and only now noticed that he had his hand on your shoulder the whole time. His hand now wandered to the back of your neck and disappeared between your hair, where he reached for a tuft of hair and pulled it lightly so that you looked at him. Your look was a mixture of oops, I'm sorry and well that's awkward, and he could only agree. But you had gotten yourself into this, so...

"How long has this been going on between you two?" asked Kira, leaning forward on her knees in her chair to hear you better. 

"Um... For a while... I think the game is over now, right? No one feels like playing anymore, right? Then, if you'll excuse me," you rattled off and quickly got up from your spot on the floor to escape the infinitely awkward situation. After all, this is not how you imagined telling your friends. But before you could walk out the door into the house, you quickly turned around, rushed back to your friends and grabbed Stiles' hand, who was already looking at you in confusion. "Now that you know, I'll take him with me. Bye."

Stiles stumbled as you jerked him up from the couch and pulled him after you. "Where are we going?"

"Now that they know, I can do that," you smiled, pulling him closer to you as you now stood among the dancing teens. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, while he rested his hands on your hips and grinned seductively at you. "Feels illegal to do this now."

“That makes it even more interesting,” you whispered into his ear.

Stiles got goosebumps all over his body. Mainly because of the light breath of you on his ear, but also because of the sensation. He could finally do all the things he wanted to do with you all the time. If he felt the urge to kiss you at school, he could do that from now on. Finally, he could pick you up in the morning before school without it raising any questions.

“Why are you smiling like that?” you asked him. 

“I just had in mind what I can do with you now that it’s all out.”

“So tell me, lover boy, what were you thinking about?”

“Well, mostly I was thinking about doing this,” he smiled and leaned down to lock his lips with yours.  His hands gripped your hips tighter as he let himself indulge your taste. Your hands around his neck gripped the curls at the back of his head as you kissed him deeply. The kiss was different from what you were used to or ever experienced before, but none of you could quite make out why that was. But right then, you didn’t really seem to care. 

One of Stiles’ hands began tracing a path from your hip, up your side and slows as it passed over the side of your chest, but still making sure that you were okay with doing that much PDA in public. The same hand then came up to your head, grabbing some hair in it and pulled you even closer, if that was even possible. You let out an involuntary, sharp gasp, before that same hand pulled you back in for more. Holding you in place with enough force to feel like he was in control, but light enough that you could pull away if you wanted to. 

Of course, you didn't want to stop kissing him, but when a thought crossed your mind, you gently pushed him away from you. His lips were red and swollen, longing for the warmth of yours again. He didn't want to waste any time either and came closer to you again, but a hand on his chest stopped him. "Come with me."

This time, Stiles followed you without questioning where it would go this time. He trusted you completely. So while you pulled him behind you through the crowds, he couldn't help it and pulled you back strongly by the hand he was holding. You stumbled against his chest and looked at him in wonder, but the darker eyes told you exactly what he was about to do. "Almost there."

Stiles smiled at you and pressed his lips to yours once again. His tongue slipped through your lips in no time and touched yours. So while he kissed you full of fire, you carefully walked backwards, your destination not far away. And as your back slammed against the door, you disengaged yourself from Stiles and opened the door. 

Stiles smiled seductively when he saw where you had pulled him. “You said you never made out in a bathroom while there was a party going on outside.”

He licked his lips before he pushed you into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, making sure that no one was going to interrupt you.

Even though you thought it was no longer possible, his eyes darkened even more as he followed you step by step further into the bathroom. When the cold sink behind you came into contact with your naked thighs, you gasped loudly, and Stiles used the moment to throw himself on you. 

His lips found yours directly as he placed you high on the sink. Goosebumps from the cold spread down your arms and legs, but were quickly forgotten as Stiles' lips broke away from yours and now caressed your neck. He quickly found the one spot that drove you crazy every time and sucked hard on it. A loud moan escaped your lips. 

Stiles pulled away from your neck and pressed his hand flat against your mouth. "Shh."

"Oh, come on," you sighed as you pushed his hand away. "It's way too loud outside." And before Stiles could get another stupid thought, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pressed your heels into his thighs to pull him even closer to you. Stiles' torso slammed against yours and your breasts pressed against his sturdy chest. This turned Stiles on even more, but he knew he couldn't do all the things he was going to do to you, here and now. 

Before Stiles could even attack your lips again, the first knock on the bathroom door filled the room. Stiles grunted and rested his forehead on your shoulder. "Occupied," he mumbled into your shoulder, loud enough for the person outside to hear.

“Okay, seems like we don’t have enough time for all of that,” he said and dropped to his knees. Looking up at you with lustful eyes, he unbuttoned your jeans shorts and yanked them down your legs with such a force your butt was almost falling down the sink. 

Stiles giggled and pushed you back up while he was working on your panties. And once they were off, Stiles didn’t hesitate and opened your legs wide for him. ”You’re already soaking wet,” he groaned, kissing your flesh, ripping the drenched garment down your legs completely.

You bit on your lower lips as you watched him peppering kisses all over your thighs, but not where you wanted him the most. You whimpered, bucking your hips through his face. “Stop teasing, Stiles!”

“Okay, okay,” he giggled, pressing your hips down. His index finger spreading your slick around your lips, while he watched you gasp loudly with dreaming eyes.

Your cunt clenched around nothing when Stiles attached his mouth to your dripping core without a warning to suck your engorged clit, thighs closing around his ears, making it hard for him to hear your pretty moans. But fuck, he was so drunk on your sweet juices, he didn’t even care at all. He just kept licking and sucking your slobbering pussy, his tongue pumping in and out.

Leaning back on your elbows, you knocked over the soap and all the other things on the sink, but you couldn’t really care less at the moment, all you could think about was Stiles’s face, sitting right in between your thighs. 

With his left hand, he forced your legs apart and started to work his tongue in between your folds. “Holy fuck,” you cried out, remembering just how good at this he was. “Stiles, fuck. Please,” you whimpered, tugging on his hair.

That familiar feeling started to form in your belly and toes as you groaned louder. He hooked your leg over his shoulder, pulling you in close. You were vulnerable like this, letting yourself get swept up in pleasure at Stiles’ tongue.

Your walls were clenching around his tongue as he pulled it out and dipped a finger in, his hands holding you still, not letting you move from his grasp. But just as you were about to really fucking enjoy it and let it all go, Stiles pulled his finger out and brought his glistening finger to his mouth, letting his calloused fingertip brush against his plump lips, tasting the sweetness of your cunt. 

“You always taste like Heaven,” Stiles groaned, his lips hitting the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he spoke.

 “Stiles, please,” you whined, missing his touch. Stiles bit his lip before he dove right back in. Another load moan escaped your lips as you had to focus on your breathing. His tongue on your clit was driving you crazy while he pushed two of his long delicate finger deep up into your deep channel. You tightened your walls around his fingers, causing him to hum against your nub. 

Stiles was really enjoying himself as he felt you shaking against him. He really wanted to make sure that you were having one of your best orgasm ever. He never wanted you to fake an orgasm, ever again. And that was his very intention. His fingers curled within you, easily pinpointing your most intimate spot that had you arching your back off the sink.

“Cum for me, love. I’ve got you,” he mumbled against your pulsing sex as he felt you shaking in front of him. Biting your lips to maintain your moans, you continued to rake your fingers through his hair. And he was definitely enjoying it, the grunts he pushed against your core had you building up climax even more. The vibrations shaking through your whole sex. 

You cried out his name over and over again, stepping closer to your orgasm with every maneuver of his skilled tongue, as you felt your belly tightening. You knew you were about to lose control, and he knew it, too. He wrapped his lips around your clit and started to suck at a steady pace, sending you falling over the edge. 

One curse after another left your lips as you came hard, pulling at the strands of hair in your hand. Stiles groaned due to the slight pain that was still turning him on. So he pulled your sopping cunt closer to his face as he buried his nose deep within, licking every ounce of you as if it was the last time he could taste you. He really made sure to ride you through your orgasm. 

But once the sensation became too much, you had to push his face away with such a force, he was not getting enough of you. Never. And soon your legs were shaking again, you couldn’t handle him between your thighs any longer. Thankfully he pulled his face away from your not so dripping core anymore, his lips were still swollen from the activity and glimmered thanks to your fluids. 

He got back up on his feed and leaned forward, kissing you, so you could taste yourself on him. “I could taste you every day,” he hummed against your lips. 

“I think we’re making a really good team,” you mumbled as you licked your lips. Stiles grinned proudly when he saw you in front of him, with your legs spread wide between which he was still standing, your vagina all to himself, just for him. He just couldn't get enough of you.

“Okay, guys, now come on! I gave you ten minutes, that’s enough for a quickie!” you heard Scott groaning on the other side of the door while he kept banging on it this time.

Stiles sighed and bent down on the floor to hand you your panties and jeans, watching you quickly jump down from the sink to put your clothes back on. "What about you?" you asked, pointing at his jeans. The bulge was clearly visible, and he couldn't hide it that easily.

“It’s not about me. I wanted to make sure that you’re feeling good. I’ll take you as my personal shield to save me from embarrassment,” he said as he was positioning himself behind you. He wrapped his arms around your shoulder from behind and pressed his crotch against your lower back, so you could feel his erection poking right at you. “Now open the door.”

With a short laugh, you unlocked the door and saw Scott standing in front of the door. Relieved, he sighed and pushed past you into the bathroom. 

"Well, if ten minutes is all you need for a quick round, then I can see why Kira has to fake her orgasms," Stiles mocked his best friend before he slammed the door in your faces, annoyed. “Now where were we?”

“We could always ditch the party and continue where we had to stop at my place, what do you think?” you asked as you turned around in his arms, looking up so you could see his beautiful amber eyes. 

“I say, why the fuck are we still here?” he answered and grabbed your hand to pull you out of the house as quickly as possible.

[katsu28]

can i request a stiles imagine where he gets the reader mad and she ignores him and he spends all day trying to get her to forgive him

this request has literally been sitting in my inbox for months, i’m so sorry it took so long!! hope you like it <3

cold shoulder

pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader 

summary: see request! 

warnings: swearing as always but i think that's pretty much it

masterlist + taglist

(gif from google, credit to owner)

It was just another morning in Beacon Hills. You were driving to school like you always did, when you saw a familiar figure with a head of brown hair hurrying along the sidewalk. 

Smiling, you pulled over and rolled down your window, calling Liam’s name. His head whipped in your direction, recognition dawning in his blue eyes when he saw that it was you trying to get his attention. 

“Need a ride?” You offered, tilting your head at him. Liam hesitated, opening his mouth like he wanted to say something, but then closed it, nodding and hopping into the passenger seat. You made sure he was buckled before pulling back out onto the road. 

“Thanks.” He said quietly, shifting his backpack on the floor between his feet. 

“No problem.” You replied. “So, what’d you do last night?” 

“What? Nothing.” Liam blurted. “I didn’t do anything last night. Just homework. Really boring, actually.” 

If there was one thing you knew about Liam, it was that he was a god awful liar. 

“Yeah? What class?” You played along, despite your growing suspicions. 

“History.” 

“Liam, you didn’t have any history homework last night. Mr. Yukimura was out sick, all of his classes had a sub.” 

“Oh.” 

“What did you really do last night?” You sighed, glancing over at him with a pointed look. 

“I don’t think I’m supposed to say.” He muttered, hunkering down in his seat. 

“You don’t think? Who told you to say that?” You asked incredulously as you pulled up to a red light, which gave you the opportunity to aim a glare over at the younger boy. He shifted uncomfortably under your pointed look. “Liam, I swear to god—”

“I went with Stiles to spy on Theo, okay?” He blurted. “He’s gonna be so mad at me, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” 

Liam was with Stiles last night? That couldn’t be right. “No, Stiles told me he was having a movie night with his dad last night.”

“Well, he wasn’t. He dragged me out to the preserve for the whole night, and Theo didn’t even freaking do anything. I didn’t get home till after midnight, my stepdad was pissed.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. He grounded me for two weeks!” 

“No, I meant you’re sure Stiles was with you?” 

“Again, yeah, I’m sure.” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, because if Stiles had been with Liam last night, that meant he’d lied to you about missing movie night. And if he’d lied to you so effortlessly this time, what else had he lied to you about throughout your relationship? 

“Uh, Y/N?” Liam’s hesitant voice drew you out of your thoughts. “The light’s green.” 

Your eyes refocused on the road ahead to see that the light was in fact green, foot pressing down on the gas as you finished out your drive to school with Liam in awkward silence. As soon as you shifted into park, he was scrambling out of the car with a mumbled ‘thanks for the ride’ before hurrying off, presumably to get away from you as quickly as he could.

You on the other hand, remained frozen in the driver’s seat, mind running through every possible reason you could think of for why Stiles had lied to you. Stiles never lied to you. Your honesty with each other was one of your favorite things about your relationship with him—the fact that no matter what, you’d always tell each other the truth. 

What had changed? Was it something you’d done? 

You barely heard the first bell ring through your muddled thoughts, but you gathered yourself, grabbing your bag and heading inside.

Usually, you’d stop off at your locker to unload some books, but you remembered that Stiles always waited for you there so you could walk to your first class together. And right now, he was the one person that you definitely didn’t want to see. For sanity’s sake, you needed to avoid him the best you could until you sorted out how you were feeling about him lying to you. 

So you beelined for chemistry, sitting in your usual seat and praying that some other student would come sit next to you so you wouldn’t have to face Stiles yet. 

Your prayers were very much not answered when you spotted Stiles and Scott making their way into the classroom right as the bell rang again. 

“Hey, babe!” Stiles chirped, sliding into the empty seat next to you. He leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek like he always did, but you turned your head, causing him to faceplant into your shoulder. “Uh…okay. Did you get my texts last night?” 

You shifted your body away from him, busying yourself with rummaging through your bag for a pencil instead of answering him. Of course you got his texts, but now that you knew he was lying about what he was doing, his i love you and see you tomorrow, sweetheart texts just left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“Y/N?” Stiles’ voice held a tinge of concern now. “Is everything okay?” You ignored him still, looking straight ahead at the board as Ms. Finch started writing your lab for the day on the board. Stiles shared a confused look with Scott behind your back at your actions (or lack thereof). 

“What’s wrong?” Scott mouthed, eyes flitting from your set jaw to Stiles’ bewildered gaze. Stiles merely shrugged. He opened his mouth to voice his confusion at your sudden aloofness, but Ms. Finch’s sharp voice had his eyes snapping to the front of the room. 

“Listen up, you guys, today we’re going to be doing another lab, so I need everyone to find a lab partner or I will find one for you!” She announced, looking around the room of students before her. “You have two minutes to pick your partners, so go now and quickly.” 

Fuck. 

You and Stiles always paired up for labs, him claiming that it was your undeniable chemistry with each other that allowed you to earn top marks on them. And if this were any other day, your heart would do a little dance in your chest at his sweet words, but it wasn’t just any other day.

And maybe you were overreacting, but you didn’t really care right now. All you knew was that you didn’t want to work with him today. 

You shot up from your chair as soon as you saw Stiles turn to you out of the corner of your eye, still avoiding eye contact with him as you made your way across the room and settled next to another student. 

“Dude, what did you do?” Scott asked incredulously, sliding into your old seat next to Stiles. 

“I don’t know!” 

“Well, you obviously did something, or else Y/N wouldn’t be avoiding you like the plague.” 

“You don’t think I know that?” Stiles huffed, frowning as he racked through his brain to try and figure out why you were— “Oh. I fucked up.” 

“What happened?” 

Stiles dragged a hand down his face, letting out a strangled groan. “I lied to her. Told her I was watching a movie with my dad last night, but I was really in the preserve staking out Theo.” 

“How did she even find out?” 

“I don’t—Liam. I bet he told her, that little shit! Control your Beta, dude!” 

“How is this my fault?” Scott exclaimed. “You’re the one who lied to your girlfriend!” 

Stiles was about to shoot back a sarcastic response (as usual), but was cut off when Ms. Finch started going over the lab instructions. Instead, he glanced over at you, taking note of your scowl and growing increasingly more guilty by the second. 

He needed to fix this. Fast. 

------- 

Your attempts to avoid Stiles were successful until you were exchanging books at your locker afterschool. 

You’d only made it this far by pure luck—spotting him a split second before he spotted you and taking a different route to class, stepping behind a taller student in the hallway, even so much as ducking into the bathroom when you saw him coming just so he would have to move on eventually. 

It was safe to say that you were in quite the hurry, wanting to get your things and get home before he tried to corner you again. 

“Y/N.” Stiles’ voice from right next to you made your jaw clench. You refused to look at him, instead passive aggressively (or really just aggressively) shoving a textbook into your backpack. “I know you’re ignoring me, and I deserve it, okay? I’m sorry for not telling you.”

Still silence from you. “Look, can we just talk about this instead of you being mad at me and icing me out?” You slammed your locker shut with a loud bang, fixing him to the spot with a glare before turning to walk away. Before you could get far, he grabbed your arm gently, turning you back to face him. “Babe, please—” 

“You’re a liar, Stiles. We said we’d be honest with each other from the start, and I trusted you to keep your word, but you’re a fucking liar.” You snapped, wrenching your arm out of his grip. He opened his mouth to respond, but you shook your head. "I think I deserve the right to be mad at you for once.” 

“I didn’t tell you because I was trying to protect you.” 

“You’re kidding me, right?” You scoffed. “I’m part of the pack too, I don’t need you to protect me all the time, okay? I can take care of myself just fine.” 

“I know that, baby, trust me, I do,” He sighed, dragging a hand through his already messy dark hair as he tried to figure out how to express his thoughts without sounding like a jackass. “I just—this is different than the shit we’ve dealt with in the past. It’s not that I don’t think you can handle yourself, because I know you can. I’ve seen you in action. But this…Theo’s different. I don’t know how to explain it, but I’m scared for us.” 

“It’s okay to be scared, Stiles, nobody could face the stuff that we have and not be scared out of their fucking mind, but I thought we were a team. Finding out that you lied and went off on with Liam instead of me made me feel like you didn’t want my help anymore. That you’d found someone better and were gonna leave me in the dark from now on.”

Your anger had dissipated now that you knew Stiles wasn’t just ditching you for shits and giggles. 

His expression softened instantly, and he took your hands in his, pressing soft kisses to your knuckles as he pulled you closer. “I would never ditch you for anyone else. Especially not Liam—god, do you know how much of a little shit that kid is?” 

A giggle erupted out of your mouth at that, giving Stiles the courage he needed to tug you flush against his chest. With his lips pressed against your hair, he murmured out a promise he intended never to break ever again. 

“I swear on my life that I won’t lie to you ever again, Y/N. I’m sorry.” 

“You’re forgiven. Mostly.” You sighed, looping your arms around his neck and tilting your head up to look at him.

“Mostly?” 

“You still owe me a movie night, Stilinski.” 

“Oh, definitely,” Stiles let out a relieved laugh, smiling down at you. “Anything you want, sweetheart.” 

“I was thinking we could have a romcom marathon?” 

“Anything except that.” Your elbow jabbed into his ribs. “Ow, shit—no, I’d love that! So much.” 

You smiled innocently. “That’s what I thought.” 

“Of course.” 

“Because you did say anything I wanted.” 

“Did I? I don’t remember saying that.” 

Taglist!

@doublecrazyyymofo @unbelievablystillafangirl @wittiestrain184 @sk3lby @raajali3 @conans-folk @eichenhouseproperty

[laheysdork]

STILES STILINSKI getting all sweaty in 4x03

[starshipsofstarlord]

Noise Complaint

Stiles Stilinski Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Navigation

Summary: Keeping multiple hormone enraged students in a motel for a night wasn’t going to end well for anyone, except them

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Female Reader, mentioned Scott McCall x Allison Argent

Warnings: 18+ minors dni if you do then I take no responsibility, smut, strip tease, protected sex, vaginal penetration, and a noise complaint

The motel room was exactly what you had expected, shabby rather than chic, and despite the low expectations that you had initially had, you couldn't help but pout; a part of you was more lenient to sleep on the school bus instead of these already combusted mattresses that were dressed in the most hideous sheets that you had ever laid your eyes on. But you supposed that this was the punishment that you had earned yourself by tagging along with Lydia and Allison; it hadn't quite been a fool proof plan, more so considering that it hadn't taken Stiles long to realise that you three were in the vehicle behind them. The room that you had been given the key to was a single, and it haunted and disgusted you as he said that you were to be sleeping in this horror setting alone; no Stiles he had meant.

It wasn't justified fairness, you'd even argue that it commended against your human rights. But old Bobby enjoyed to make everyone suffer, and that was the type of pain that you were undergoing as you dealt with the separation that - hold that thought, a notification sprang from the speaker of your phone, and as you read the iMessage that bombarded your lock screen, excitement coursed through your veins. Open up, it said, and giddily you hurried to the door, instantly obliging to what the message had said. On the other side stood Stiles who didn't waste a moment before he pushed the both of you back into the room, being quick to ensure that nobody saw the both of you blatantly disobeying the rules. To be honest you didn't know what Finstock had expected, bringing well over a handful of hormonal teenagers to stay at a dingy motel overnight couldn't possibly respect the restrictions of chastity; nobody was going to listen, including Stiles and yourself.

"Let me guess, you couldn't sleep?" You crawled onto the bed after your boyfriend who had gone up the length of the mattress to rest his head upon the flat pillows that had been provided, weaving yourself beneath his arm and dancing your fingers across his chest. "You're still worried about Scott, aren't you?" The scratch that the alpha had left on him was nasty, and went further than surface deep. His worry towards his best friend was understandable, you were concerned too. Stiles hummed in reply, combing his long fingers through your hair, his body shifting as he found it quire difficult to go on considering everything that was going on.

"He's gone to see Allison now." Stiles revealed, it was no doubt that if Scott had remained in their room that he'd have stayed too. They weren't just best friends, they were brothers and that bond would always be his first priority, you had never met anybody as loyal as Stiles Stilinski. "But I could use a distraction from all the sacrifices and alphas and whatever else is going to happen." He rambled, his hands tossing about a little as he spoke, and you found the action rather adorable, he was always very expressive as he spoke, in fact the two of you had met first day of freshman year by him whipping you around the face with his flying hands, and it had been rather hard to forget him since you had a black eye for the rest of the week.

"I've got the perfect thing in mind." You informed him, coercing him to grumble as you got up, searching for your phone and scrolling on it until you came across the playlist that you had created for a moment like this. 'Hands to myself' began to play, perking Stiles up as he watched you stand by the end of the bed, dragging your own hands up your body, prompting him to lick his lips that were feeling rather dry. He sat upright as you slowly peeled the shirt up to reveal your bare skin until you were dressed in nothing more than your bra and shorts and walking closer to Stiles. The music was quite loud, drowning out any sounds of Stiles' laboured breaths that he was trying to control, it made you feel strong seeing the affect that you had upon him, and only served to encourage you more to act more deviously. Your thumbs tucked into the elastic band of your shorts, toying with them, the sight alone had the poor yet lucky boy before you feel lightheaded.

The first time that you had actually performed a strip tease for Stiles, he had literally fainted; looking back on that time was quite funny, more so since you had been sworn to secrecy by the victim himself when he groggily came back to consciousness. But it had become the faintest memory in Stiles' head as your shorts piled around your feet, he couldn't help but lean forwards, his eyes delicately tracing the sultry edges of your underwear. Drool began to seep out from the corner of his mouth whence you played with the frills that decorated your panties, hips still swaying as your hand that was not dancing along the front of your left thigh was swimming in your hair as your tongue deliciously ran across your teeth.

"You're so hot." Stiles murmured, his leg began to jitter against the ground as his body endured the rush of desire. "Come here baby, need you." Sweetly you tip toed over to him and placed your hands onto his shoulders, taking a seat of placement upon his aroused lap, feeling his hard cock through the layers of material which separated each of the parts of your bodies that hungered to unite in a rouse of passion. The music faded away from your sense whilst his eyes ravenously scaled up your bare torso, his hands were starved as they refused to miss an opportunity to touch any skin on your body that they possibly could - no doubt he was struggling to keep his hands to himself.

You didn't mind in the slightest as you fiddled with the straps on your loose shoulders, reaching behind you Stiles disconnected the clasps on the back of your bra, to which obeyed his command by dropping the garment between your bodies, only serving to build misdemeanour tension within the room. Both of your hands ravelled in his dark locks that he had allowed to grow out not so long ago as he threw your bra to the floor, raising his large and desirable palms to cup both your breasts, becoming vastly more turned on by feeling the natural weight in his grip. Leaning down, you hungrily joined your lips in a sloppily paced kiss which remained elongated in time for a while, your bodies rutting in unison to build up pressure to which was called pleasure. Thank god for Scott for not being over Allison, otherwise this event would never have fitted the occasion!

Soon the rest of your and his clothes were scattered around the room like an image from a spot the difference game, though if it were a then it'd have definitely have been R-rated as the pair of you were completely in the nude, Stiles now atop of you and teasing his cock head upon your sweet clit. He ran his tip up and down your slit, collecting wetness, the notion alone causing you to drop your head back into the pillow supporting you as your eyes deliriously fluttered closed. But they fixated open no more than a minute later as a disastrous thought bombarded your mind, leading you to tightly grip your boyfriend’s forearms and dig your nails a little into his flesh, all to refrain him from going further for a moment. “Do you have a condom?” He blinked multiple times before springing into action.

Despite it resulting in you and him groaning simultaneously, he stir up so that he could rummage through his belongings until he found one. Once he did he wasted no more time and instead put the contraceptive method onto his length and resumed his previous position. Your legs twitched and coiled around him as he began to push into your walls, his right hand roughly grabbing the back of your thigh to bring some pain upon your body to mix with the exonerating pleasure that shuttled through it. The collaboration of your bodies was heaven with the bitterness of hell that raked through them via the bruising grip below your ass, the passion transcended into the clouds from aggressive and hungry flames, creating a breathless hue to burn beneath your flesh. Each breath that pardoned out from Stiles' panting lips scorned your skin, he was desperate for release and was feeling close, his quickening thrusts only made the endurance of your orgasm slacken as everything around you felt as though it was crashing down.

There was a storm within the room, the lightning struck above both of you in the form of a bulb with faulty wire as the thunder resonated in pounding, which you could not register as such, against the door to the motel room. The music that you had earlier put on acted as a soundtrack to the scene, and your sounds of ecstasy dwindled down into as you reached the climax to the intimate story that you had shared with Stiles. "Stilinski! Y/l/n! Open up but only if you're decent." The level of the music was still loud and therefore you hoped that the lyrics of Ariana Grande and other artists that had recently performed on your playlist had masked your moans of synchronised pleasure but you knew that that specific hope was far too good to be true.

And so you and Stiles scrambled to cover yourselves and answer the door as Finstock began to rampantly knock again. He was like a flu that you couldn't get rid of, and it was no surprise to when you eventually opened up the door it looked as though he had caught a fever. It was a blessing to his ears that the variety of sounds had ceased including those that had exhumed from your phone that was now somewhere on the floor. "The two of you are one of the reasons that I drink." Bobby defeatedly spoke, waving his finger like a madman to which it was already believable prior that he was one. You cocked your head waiting for him to scold the of you more however Stiles had already beaten him to it, silencing him with his natural wit in the moment. "In my defence I am only here because I felt lonely, nobody else is in my room." He practically dubbed Scott in the trouble, but you also knew that Stiles had the intention of having someone check up on his best friend and so he was using Bobby as the surrogate to do so.

Coach's face crinkled, this was more work than he was cut out for, and he wasn't enjoying a moment of it. At least he didn't have to worry about Greenberg as he strongly doubted that he had the moved to get into such a compromising position with any other example of the human species, he'd just be yelled at because he was annoying and an absolute kiss ass all whilst being terrible at lacrosse. "Wait, where is McCall?" He was slowly putting the pieces together... if there was another noise complaint then he'd be at fault since he was the adult, and so he rushed off in hopes of not having to succumb to responsibility. The opportunity arose to shut the door and so you took it, and Stiles dropped his head in relief as he hurriedly began to remove his jeans again. "Oh thank god." He sighed when he dropped them and you laughed when you realised that it was not his intent to continue what you were doing beforehand but instead the condom the condom that he had forgone and forgotten to remove in the rush of things.

[fitzells]

“I fell in love with you.” “No, you fell down the stairs. You should really learn to hold your liquor.”

For Stiles? <3

drunken confessions, stiles stilinski.

notes: stiles won’t be in the movie because we’re too busy raising our three children, two dogs and one cat in the suburbs! also im not happy with this i haven’t been writing that good recently

inbox is very full so im replying to random reqs that inspire me!!

word count: 1.8k!!!! longer than i intended but oh well.

warnings: hints of smut towards the end but other than that i think we’re good!

A drunken giggle fell past lipstick stained lips as you stumbled into your dorm room; Stiles following close behind, strong hands holding onto the small of your waist to guide you into the room. “I’m serious, Stilinski! You’re a real catch.”

“Uh huh.” He let out a grunt, wincing as you flopped your body down onto your bed, curling into the sheets with a whimsical grin. “How’d you figure that one out?”

He sat on the edge of your bed, lifting your feet onto his lap so that he could undo the straps of your heels. You pouted, reaching up to grab his face with both of your hands, staring at him with lovesick eyes. He almost melted into your embrace on the spot, not being able to handle the pure adoration you were shooting his way. You were the girl he’d been in love with since he was 6 years old, he’d been planning your wedding in his brain since the first time you’d ever even waved at him. Here he was, a couple of inches away from your face, watching your eyes light up and your mouth stretch into one of the prettiest grins he’d ever seen you give.

He wished he could take a picture of this moment, partly to show all those assholes in high school that made fun of him any time you looked his way; but also, for himself; because he knew how you got when you were drunk, you were overly affectionate, to everyone. In a moment, he’d reluctantly drag your hands away from his face and you’d pass out on your bed in a full face of makeup and an uncomfortable dress. So, he wanted to soak it in, because he’d probably never get to be this close to you again.

“I mean,” you paused for a moment, a quiet hiccup sounding through the room before you took up speaking again. “You’re super sweet, when you’re not being a paranoid asshole with major trust issues— sorry, that was mean. You’re funny, and smart and you do this cute little thing with your nose when you’re concentrating that makes me want to slam my head in a door, in a good way; obviously.”

He allowed his eyebrows to raise, a flabbergasted hum leaving his rosy lips at your words. He only shook his head, believing that it was just the alcohol talking; because, there’s no way you could ever want to date him, right?

“And you’re super hot, but I mean. . . that goes without saying.” Your hands were still cupping his face, squeezing it every now and again, making his cheeks smush together and causing little giggles to exit your mouth. You cackled at the look of confusion he’d sent you, an annoyed eye roll being shot his way. “Oh, c’mon; Stilinski. You’re not blind, you’re an attractive guy! You got that hair, and those eyes; and that cute ass of yours.”

He emitted a loud yelp when you’d nudged your heel into his ass, as if to emphasise your point. A look of pure shock painted his face, and your laughs only increased in ferocity; leading to him joining you in your drunken giggles. “You know you’re hot.”

He let out another little hum, watching as your eyes drifted away from his, mind wandering to somewhere else. “And you’re always there for me when I need you. Like when I was dragged into all this supernatural bullshit because my best friend is a frickin’ banshee. You always looked out for me—“

He smiled softly, dark eyes meeting your hazy ones. “I’ll always have your back, you know that.”

“—and then I was finally realising how I felt, and you got possessed, which was terrifying. And then, we got you back, but we lost Alli, and I wasn’t ready to let anyone else get close to me. Then the whole dead pool thing didn't really give us much extra time for a declaration of my undying love. Then senior year was just-- I mean, Theo and everything else. . . and then you got erased from existence. Isn’t high school meant to be the best years of our lives?”

He was bewildered at your ramblings, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly eyes wide and eyebrows raised. No, you were just drunk; you didn’t even know what you were saying. He should just ignore it, get you to go to sleep and forget this ever happened. “God, I hope not.”

You let out a soft sigh, your thumbs running against his cheekbones gently. “Now we’re in college together; and you’re my best friend. I messed all this up, should’ve just kissed you at prom like I wanted to.”

“You wanted to kiss me at prom?”

You let out another giggle. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the end of sophomore year. Your little buzzcut was so cute, you were like a pale, flannel wearing teddy bear.”

“Right.” He sighed, your level of intoxication becoming clear again as he gently pulled your hands from his face. “Lets get you into bed, okay?”

He turned his back to find some of that makeup removed he’d seen you use. Was it a pink bottle? Or a blue one? Actually he was pretty sure it was gree—

“I fell in love with you.” You muttered from behind him. He scolded himself when he felt his heart flutter and his thoughts flitter from his head at your words. You didn’t feel like this, not really, it was simply the copious amount of alcohol in your system talking.

“No,” he replied, once he’d found the face wash hidden in your bedside table. “You fell down the stairs. You really should learn how to hold your liquor.”

He tapped at the fresh cut just below your knee, from when you’d missed a step halfway up the stairs to your dorm only a half an hour ago, and you’d tumbled down them, landing in a laughing heap on the ground. Your eyebrows knitted together, leaning over to inspect the cut. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that— Hey! Don’t change the subject, Stilinski.”

“I mean it; this isn't the alcohol talking. Maybe, I have some liquid courage but that’s it. I’ve felt like this since I was fifteen years old, Stiles. I’m in love with you.”

He paused for a moment, face wash coated cotton pad held in mid air as he observed your expression, it was desperate, and frustrated; but also fuelled with the utmost love and appreciation.

“I love you.” You repeated, voice softer this time.

He hesitated, wanting to utter the words back to you desperately, for a moment, your were sure he was going to, your eyes twinkling with hope as you stared up at him.

“I should take your makeup off.”

Your head was pounding as you opened your eyes, your hand coming up to cradle your forehead as you winced at the sunlight gleaming through the window. You kicked the body beside you, hard, prompting him to curse before turning off whatever video he was watching on his phone. “Morning sunshine, how do you feel?”

You turned to face him, eyes narrow and mouth dry. “Fantastic.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, but it was clear that something else had been weighing on his mind. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, a soft gaze being cast over you. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

“You mean, do I remember getting sick all over the side walk and then falling down a slight of stairs once you’d managed to get me into the building? Yes, trust me; I remember it all.”

You couldn’t ignore the look of disappointment on his face at your words as you clambered out of bed, walking to the bathroom; turning on the shower to let the water heat up, before applying toothpaste to your toothbrush and walking back out into your room. You scrubbed at your teeth as you walked around the room, picking up your clothes from last night and tossing them in the laundry basket, only now noticing you were wearing one of Stiles’ t-shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts. You looked over at him, trying to word your next words carefully. Your toothbrush hung out of your mouth, foamy lips opening as you walked into the bathroom to spit.

“I also remember declaring my undying love for you in a way that was exactly like that one scene in ‘definitely, maybe’ where Ryan Reynolds declares his undying love for Isla Fisher? Except, maybe it was a little less angsty than theirs— but anyway, that doesn’t even matter. What matters is that I love you. And not to sound too egotistical, but I’m pretty sure you might love me too.” You were back in your dorm at this point, standing right in front of your bed, where he was staring at you with wide eyes.

“You really do love me? Like actually?”

You nodded, a smile being hidden as you bit down on your lip. “Do you love me too?”

He rolled his eyes fondly, quickly fumbling out of bed in his usual clumsy manner and cupping your face in his hands. “Are you kidding me? You're talking to the guy who's been mapping out our perfect suburban life with three kids and a golden retriever since I was six years old. Of course I love you.”

His lips found yours in a soft kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he held you close to him, a quiet hum of approval leaving his mouth. It perfectly showcased all the love and affection you’d both been hiding for years, your hands knotting in his hair before you pulled away reluctantly.

“I have to go shower.” You whispered against his lips.

He nodded, a big dopey grin on his face. “I have to go call Scott, and my dad— and everyone from high school. I got the fucking girl.”

“You haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet, Stilinski.” You tutted falsely, standing in the doorway between your room and your bathroom.

“I think you’ve been my girlfriend for a long time, baby. I just think that we’re only catching on now.” He muttered. “But, nonetheless; my dad raised me right, so; will you be my girlfriend Ms. Y/L/N?”

“It’d be my honour, Mr. Stilinski.” You grinned. “Now, go call whoever you need to call. I’ll be in the shower if you want me.”

He paused, throwing his phone down on the bed as you pulled your shirt over your head; and he swallowed thickly. “You know what? I think my gloating can wait a couple hours.”

“A couple hours? You think you got that kind of stamina, Stilinski?” You teased, pulling your shorts down your legs and stepping into the shower.

“Guess we better find out.”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

I only bought this dress so you could take it off | Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: You confessed your feelings to Stiles

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word count: 0.5k

Taylor Swift bingo square: Dress

-

You left Lydia's birthday party early. Stiles had offered to take you home after faking to feel unwell. You felt bad for lying to him, but he didn't seem to be getting the many hints that you liked him, so you took the matter into your own hands.

Stiles got in the driver seat and pulled out of Lydia's driveway and onto the street. ''Are you going to be sick? Just tell me and I'll pull over. I don't want to have to clean the jeep-''

''Stiles. I'm not feeling unwell,'' you admitted, playing with the hem of your dress. ''That was an excuse to have you to myself.''

He pulled his eyebrows together, not getting it. ''Eh, why?''

You sighed. Stiles might be one of the most intelligent person you knew, but sometimes he was terrible at taking hints and flirting. ''I don't want us to be friends anymore.'' 

''Wow.'' A veil of emotion crashed over his face, truly hurt, getting the wrong message. ''You know there's gentler ways to say things like that?''

''No! You don't get it,'' you corrected. ''Stiles, I...I want us to be more than friends.''

The light before you turned red and Stiles hit the brakes, the Jeep coming to an abrupt stop. You put your hand on the dashboard to stop you from hitting your head on it. 

He was usually a smoother driver.

Stiles turned to you. ''Why? I mean...why did you have to say this now? I'm driving, Y/N! You distracted me. I almost burned a red!'' He was full on word vomiting, not knowing how to process the bomb you had just dropped on him.

You looked down in guilt. ''I'm sorry.''

Stiles shook his head, still recovering from his initial shock. ''It's okay. I just wasn't expecting that. Give a guy a warning next time.'' He breathed out, running a hand through his hair.

''Next time?!'' you exclaimed, turning your whole body toward him on the seat. ''Stiles, I'm being serious.''

''And so am I!''

''Did you not register anything that I said? I said-''

''I did. Trust me, I did.'' His hands were sweaty and his shirt was suddenly tight around his neck. He needed to roll down a window. Get some fresh air.

''Then why haven't you said anything? I'm dying over here, drowning in anxiety, waiting for you to say something. Anything.''

''Because I don't know what to say. You know I don't do well under pressure or with unplanned things.''

''Do you like me or not, Stiles? It's simple.''

''Yes! Of course I do, I-''

That's all you needed to hear to lean over the gearshift and kiss him.

For the second time tonight, Stiles was speechless. 

It took him a few seconds to kiss back, but you soon felt his hand on your cheek and put yours at the back of his neck, your fingers grazing against his hair.

 ''Wow. That was a good kiss. An excellent kiss. Not that I have many to compare to. I’m not that kind of guy. You know, the one that kisses multiple girls. I’m not saying it’s wrong. Everyone can do whatever they want and kiss whoever they want, but- ''

''Stiles. Shut. Up.'' You pressed your forehead against his, holding back a laugh at his rambling.

He nodded, his eyes flickering down to your dress. ''That's a really pretty dress you got on.'' 

''I know. I wore it for you,'' you replied. ''But I'd rather you take it off.'' 

[theinternetisfulloftrash]

AH 🤍 could you do ❛ you can kiss me, you know.❜ with stiles pleaseeeeee?

This sounds so sweet!

I don't know how smutty this will end up being, but I have very little control when I get writing, it just kinda happens. Let's see what goes down, huh?

Author's Note: Malia who? You'd moved in across the street from Stiles and his father in sophomore year, and you could never really put your finger on what was going on with him and his friends, but it hadn't stopped you from falling pretty hard for the chaotic, doe-eyed boy next door ;)

Prompt list HERE

His Anchor

Was this really happening? Everything felt like it was falling apart. The whole pack was a mess and the last person he expected to make him feel like a fuck up was Scott, but sitting here now, soaked down to his underwear—his windshield smashed to pieces—that was his reality.

It was never easy being ordinary among the extraordinary. Stiles had always tried to contribute what he could, and he'd grown to believe he was valued and useful—more than useful—so it was hard feeling like his best friend didn't seem to understand his sacrifices, how hard it was to feel adequate, how important it was to him to be what everyone needed, what everyone wanted. The pressure was so immense sometimes that he'd lay down to sleep and the sun would come shining in through the windows without him catching a wink. Adderall was a crutch he leaned on so hard it was bound to snap any minute. He felt like he was being held together by a fraying thread.

He was sitting there—water dripping from his sleeves—when his phone vibrated in the seat next to him. The screen lit, displaying your name. Stiles picked it up but didn't answer. He let it ring in his hand until the screen went black. He wasn't sure he was ready to talk to anyone, even you. You were this part of his life that was untainted. You weren't a part of the mess. You were his escape. His anchor. If he answered the phone right now, he'd be blurring the lines.

No one in the pack really knew how close he'd gotten to you. He wanted to protect you from all that. He texted you in the middle of the night after one bullshit werewolf-related catastrophe or another, and you always answered. You were there to slide open your bedroom window and let him in. It was innocent enough in the beginning. Just friends. Just talking. Until one night a couple of weeks ago when he showed up in a torn shirt with a split lip. He tried to explain it away as clumsiness, a lacrosse incident, but you didn't buy it. You'd used a damp cloth to help clean his wound and he'd been so impulsively stupid that he thought that soft way you were looking at him was some kind of invitation, and he'd almost kissed you.

It had been different since then. He'd felt so stupid when he'd seen how shocked you looked, how you'd pulled back. Ever since, he'd avoided talking to you about it, despite the few times you'd tried. He hadn't climbed up the side of your back porch to your window since. But right now—with everything falling apart the way it was—he wished you were here, wished things were different, wished he could tell you who he really was.

His phone rang again. It was you. He wet his lips with his tongue, drumming his fingers against his phone, his forearms resting on the steering wheel. On the last ring, he swiped to answer.

"Hello?" he said, his voice trembling. He shouldn't have answered.

"Stiles?" There was a brief pause. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah..." he lied, looking out through the shattered glass at the flickering streetlight above him, "everything's fine."

There was dead air on the line for a few moments before you spoke again. "Bullshit, Stilinski."

Stiles, pulled in a short breath and gripped the wheel tight in his palms. "It's nothing."

"It's not."

"Can we just drop— Can we just talk about something else?" he pleaded, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Okay," you quickly agreed. "You wanna talk about that night then?"

"God no!"

"Well..." you paused, "it's gotta be one or the other, because I'm tired of you freezing me out like this."

Stiles flopped back in the driver seat, letting his shoulders relax as he picked at the chapped skin of his lower lip with his teeth.

"Talk to me..."

You had no idea how badly he wanted just that. He wanted to let you in, he just didn't know that if he did he could keep you safe. But he was a master of vaguery at this point, so he'd try to figure out how to explain without spilling the 'creatures of the night live among you' specifics.

"Everything... everything is falling apart..." You were quiet, so he continued. "You ever have those dreams where you lose control of the car you're driving? Like you can't steer it anymore no matter what you do?"

"Uh...I have, yeah."

"Well," Stiles let his head fall back against the headrest, "it feels like that, except I'm awake.... Don't think I could sleep if I wanted to..."

There was a long pause, but he could hear you breathing.

"You there?"

"Yeah... yeah, I'm here..."

He knew he'd barely said anything, but even sharing what little he had made him feel a little less compressed, like he was shouldering the weight of one island less than the entire world.

"Where are you?"

"Down by the clinic..."

"The vet clinic? Where Scott works?"

"Mhm," he hummed, scrubbing the toe of his shoe into the floormat.

"I'm coming down there—"

"No. You're not."

"Stiles..." you sighed and he could hear the frustration in it. "Let me help you...please?"

He softly murmured your name, looking down at the keys stuck hanging in the ignition. "I don't...I'm not sure there's anyone that can help me.."

"Can I at least...try?"

God, you had no idea what you were asking for. If you knew everything, all of it—what Beacon Hills really was, who he really was, all the things he'd done, the people he'd hurt...killed—you wouldn't want to be within 50 miles of him. And yet, here you were, offering him grace and kindness that he wasn't sure he deserved.

"Stiles?"

It was selfish and stupid, but everything inside of him ached for comfort. For a break. For just a single damn second to breathe. He reached down and turned the key in the ignition. "I'm coming to you."

•~~○☆○~~•

You were standing at the front door looking out at the street. It was wet and the streetlights glared up from it like the flat of a calm lake. When Stiles pulled into the driveway, you could see Roscoe's shattered windshield.

"What the hell?" You opened the door and stepped out onto the front porch as his headlights went out.

He climbed out of the driver's seat and struggled to get the door closed behind him. "Piece of shit!" he yelled.

"Hey!" you called out, rushing down the stairs.

He slammed the door over and over until it finally latched. "Son of a..." He was looking down at his hand, clenching his fist.

You rushed toward him and grabbed his arm. He was soaked. "Stiles...hey." You squeezed his forearm. "Look at me..."

He turned to you. His features twisted up and tortured. You'd seen him look troubled many times, but this was something new. Whatever it was that had been eating away at him for as long as you'd known him seemed to finally have made its way to his foundation. He was crumbling apart right there in front of you.

"Let's go inside?" you said calmly, leading him toward the house.

He nodded and followed along behind you after you dropped his arm.

When you'd made it up the stairs to your room, he stood just inside the closed door. His clothes were plastered to him, wet from the rain that had only just stopped.

You crossed your room to your closet and pulled out an old oversized Stanford hoodie your father had almost donated to Goodwill and you handed it to him.

"I wish I had more than just a shirt... but..."

"Thanks," he said before he pressed his lips together in a tight, brief smile.

He pulled his thin hoodie up over his body, and the t-shirt beneath rode up a bit along with it, giving you a brief peek at his stomach before you turned away to give him more privacy. When you turned back, he was adjusting the hood of the sweater.

"Where...uh..." He was holding his wet clothes in his hand.

"Here, let me..." you reached out and took them and walked across the room to the door that led to the adjoining bathroom. You hung them over the top of the glass shower and then grabbed a towel from the bar.

When you walked back into your bedroom, Stiles was staring out the window, leaning against the frame of it.

"So what happened tonight?" you asked gently. "The Jeep...and you..."

He turned around and you handed him the towel and he scrubbed it through his hair before he draped it over your desk chair and sat down. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't know?"

You smiled weakly and sat down on the bed across from him. "Maybe, actually..."

He smiled back before he slouched back in the chair and let his head dangle behind it, staring up at the ceiling. "I don't know what to do anymore..." he muttered, clearly more to himself than anyone.

You didn't interject, instead, you gave him space and time to continue.

"Things with Scott are so fucked up."

"Oh?"

"I think I broke it...what we had..."

"I'm sure that's not true..."

He let out an exasperated huff. "You didn't see the way he looked at me tonight...like I was a stranger to him..." Stiles sat up again and you could see the pain in his eyes.

"Friends fight."

"Not like this."

"Maybe he just needs to cool off?"

Stiles leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Or maybe he needs better friends..."

Those words hurt. Stiles was the best friend you had. He was loyal and kind. Thoughtful and protective to a fault. While you wished he was a little more straightforward and a little less secretive, you never felt that he ever did a single thing with ill-intent. Yet here he was, crushed by the thought that he was somehow inadequate at what you considered to be one of his greatest assets.

"Maybe you shouldn't assume you're the one to blame?" You didn't want to step on toes or stick your nose where it didn't belong, but you couldn't just sit here across from him looking so broken and say nothing.

His lips teased at a smile that never formed before he replied. "What...what would you do to protect someone you love?"

Your breath caught in your lungs and your heart began to beat a little more quickly in your chest.

His hands were clenched together between his knees, his fingers knit together as he waited for your response.

Instinctively, you knew he meant for your family, but you couldn't help imagining what you would do to protect him. Just about anything, you decided.

"Whatever it takes."

His hands relaxed a bit, and he smoothed one palm over the other. "Really?"

You swallowed down your nerves and nodded. "Yes."

He wheeled the chair a bit closer to you. "I— I've..."

"Stiles... you can talk to me..." you inched forward until you were perched on the edge of the matress, "whatever it is..."

"I really can't."

"But—"

"And before you try to change my mind. I really can't." He got up from the chair and ran his hand through his damp hair. "Some secrets aren't mine to tell..."

It crushed you to know something was torturing him the way this clearly was. You knew he kept secrets from you. So many unexplained injuries, sudden absences, hushed conversations that ended right when you arrived. If he hadn't always made you feel so special when you were alone, it would have nagged at you so much more than it did. One thing was clear. The place? Beacon Hills? Wasn't just a town. And Stiles? Wasn't just the cute boy from across the street.

As much as you wanted to push him to let you in on the secrets you knew he was guarding, right now, you just wanted to be of some comfort.

"Whatever happened... Whatever you might have done..." You reached out for him and took his hand and pulled him down next to you on the bed. "I know you, Stiles..."

He turned, folding his leg under the other, bent at the knee.

"You wouldn't have done it unless you had to."

His eyes fluttered, and you could see tears building in their corners. He looked so grateful and utterly broken at the same time. You just wanted to make it stop. Whatever it was that was eating away at him.

"Come here..." you whispered, reaching out for him and pulling him into your arms. You hugged him tightly until you felt his arms encircle your waist and he hugged you back.

The tension in his body slowly eased and you felt him relax into your touch. His hands splayed out across your back and you tried not to let the way it made you feel to be held tight in his arms distract you from your mission. Comfort.

You felt his hold on you weaken and you pulled back. He was looking at you the way he had that night you'd freaked out and ruined what should have been such a special moment. You'd wanted him to kiss you for so long that you practically ached for it every time the two of you were in a room together for the last year. You just didn't have the nerve to tell him how you felt. You'd been keeping secrets of your own.

His breathing was uneven as his gaze met yours. You watched as his eyes flicked across your features and down to your lips.

You swallowed before he looked back up. Maybe if you could be honest, if you could finally let him in, you wouldn't feel like such a hypocrite for always wishing he would do the same. You mustered all the nerve you had to say what you were about to.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

You felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest it was pounding so hard. "You can kiss me, you know?"

His eyes widened and his perfect lips hung open the tiniest bit before he managed a response. "But... you... you stopped me—"

"You just shocked me..." you said, interrupting him. "I panicked..."

"I— I thought you..."

"I know..." you breathed. "I wanted to try to explain, but you just—"

"Avoided you ever since..."

"Yeah..." You pressed your lips together in an awkward smile.

"Wow..." he pressed his tongue into the side of his cheek. "I really am just that stupid, huh?"

You let out a tiny laugh, your cheeks warming with a flush you were sure he could see.

He smiled at you, his hand trembling a bit as he lifted it from the blankets and laid it on your thigh.

You laid your hand over it and smoothed your thumb over his knuckles.

He leaned closer and your nerves kicked into high gear, your breath catching in a little gasp when he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.

"Is this okay?" he breathed the question against your skin.

You nodded and you felt him smile before his lips brushed past yours so closely you could almost taste them. Then he pressed a kiss to the other cheek.

"What about this?"

"Mhm," you hummed in approval.

His nose traced along your skin until it was tip to tip with your own. "And this?" he whispered before he pressed his lips so gently to yours it felt like you might have made it up.

"Yes..." It was more plea than an answer that you breathed into his soft lips.

The soft sound of satisfaction he made at your admission was proof enough that he'd been waiting for this moment just as long as you had. His hands moved to cup your cheeks as he kissed you the way you'd dreamed he might, only it was better than you could have imagined.

His lips were so soft and skilled as they moved in harmony with yours. He held you to him so tenderly, but there was a desire in his touch that made you feel wanted and desperate. Your kiss deepened when he parted his lips and pulled your lower lip into his mouth.

You let out a soft groan when his teeth grazed over it and you let him in. Let him explore and please you with his tongue as you did the same.

One of his hands held you in place, cupped behind your neck while the other hand slid down your body to your waist. He gripped at the fabric of your shirt and pulled you forward into him.

You took it as a cue, and with only a panted little breath in the tiny space you created between your lips, you got up onto your knees and straddled his hips, your fingers knotting into his hair.

Now he was the one groaning. When your fingernails dragged across the skin on the back of his neck both of his hands dropped to your waist and he gripped your body tightly just above your hips.

His wet pants were soaking through your own. You could feel the effect your kiss was having on him pressing against your thigh, and you smiled into the kiss before you pulled back, your smile widening when he was chasing after your lips.

"What's wrong?" he asked, breathless and flushed. His ears were bright red, and the sides of his cheeks were a soft pink.

"It's nothing... you're just wet..."

He looked down his body, shifting his hips. "Oh. Right..." He clicked his tongue in his mouth.

You knew what you wanted to say, but weren't sure you had the nerve.

"I...uh..." Stiles stammered, his hands still kneading at your waist.

You'd wanted him almost as long as you'd known him, and here he was in your room, on your bed, kissing you, wanting you too. Screw it. "Take them off..."

You felt him tense, his hands finally stilling their movement. "Wait...what?"

You looked down at him and rolled your hips to make your point a little clearer.

"Are...are you serious?" he asked, his eyes as wide as saucers.

You nodded and his bewildered expression turned to one of soft appreciation before he pulled you back in for another incredible kiss.

[farfromharry]

Hello can I please request a Stiles prompt “stop avoiding my kisses.” where reader is mad at him?

summary: stiles keeps missing your planned dates for his friend and you finally refuse to let it slide

w/c 656

stiles stilinski x reader

Stiles Stilinski was a fucking idiot. Or at least that was what you currently believed while you were so incredibly angry at him. Usually on a good day you were completely infatuated with the pretty boy.

You understood it must’ve been hard with all the supernatural stuff that was suddenly dropped on him with Scott being bitten by Derek Hale’s uncle. But you were thrown into that mess too and you still remembered the dates he planned.

This was the third one this month that he’d forgotten about and you were just so mad. Your mind was screaming at you not to even try and let him explain as you furiously told Lydia the situation. He was an asshole, and you weren’t going to let him forget that.

The worst part was that this one was meant to be making up for the last two he missed. He claimed it was going to be the best date of your life and by the end of the night you would be thoroughly wooed. But it didn't look like that was going to happen.

He told you to head over to his house at seven. And you had arrived just a few minutes early, knocking on the door of the Stilinski household while trying to contain your excitement. Since Scott got bitten, you hadn’t really spent any normal time with your boyfriend and it was safe to say you missed him. You missed actually acknowledging you were in a relationship.

Stiles’ dad was the one to let you in, seemingly confused as he told you his son wasn’t actually in the house. He hadn’t been for hours according to the Sheriff.

But he did allow you to wait up in his son’s room for him, little did you know you would be there for what felt like ever.

When he finally did show up, it was nearly eleven in the evening and you were close to dozing off in his bed. The booming voice of your boyfriend when he came through his bedroom door was what snapped you out of your light slumber though, all the sleep fading from your body as it was replaced by a burning anger.

“I am so sorry.” You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself up into a sitting position on the plush bed. “Where were you? You’re—“ you turned to look at the clock on his nightstand. “Three hours late, Stiles.”

He frowned, stepping over to you to take your face in his hands. You wanted to protest his touch but you honestly didn’t have the energy, plus it felt nice. “I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just Scott—“

You shook your head. “I’m sick of the excuses. Scott’s my friend too, and I have to deal with his werewolf shit too, Stiles. But I am always ready to drop everything for you.” Whereas he was only prepared to drop everything for Scott so it seemed.

“Okay look,” he gently guided your head so you were looking right at him, leaning in to try and place a sweet kiss on your lips. You pulled your head back though, his brows drawing together. “Y/N?”

He tried again only to get the same result, and it was starting to frustrate him. “Stop avoiding my kisses!” he demanded. You rolled your eyes, turning your head to the side again when he leaned in so his lips hit your cheek rather than his intended target, your lips.

He groaned. “If you want me to stop avoiding your kisses, then stop avoiding me.”

He was taken aback by your bluntness, but he supposed he did deserve it after showing up for your date over three hours later. “What can I do to show you I’m sorry?”

You sighed. “Plan a date and actually show up to it. Just put in some effort for once.”

“I will, I will. I promise. But can I have my kiss now?”

stiles stilinski taglist - @peter-parkers-gf @rqmanoff @ccosmic-illusion @hunnybunimdun @instabull @taramaria @raajali3 @raynelbabe @celestair

[fakesocialmediaa]

Dylanobrien

Liked by itsmey/n and 987,569 others

Dylanobrien thank you for choosing to love me happy anniversary pretty girl @itsmey/n

Itsmey/n 🥰

View all comments

Itsmey/n

Liked by dylanobrien and 765,341 others

Itsmey/n today marks five years of us being together and it's kind of crazy to think about but it's also one of my favorite things to think about here's to some pretty amazing memories with the most loving most funny guy I know and to hopefully a lifetime more thank you for always bringing a smile to my face happy anniversary Dylan 💙 @dylanobrien

View all comments

°

Request: can i request a dylan obrien social media with alexa demie as a fc? where they are celebrating an anniversary please

[angelblacksmith]

Sleepover (S.S)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Warning: kiss, mention stress

Summary: Sheriff Stilinski is on night duty, so the reader stays overnight at Stiles'.

Word count: 801

It was already getting dark outside the window. The clock above the kitchen cabinet ticked steadily and showed the time. It's almost seven o'clock in the evening. In autumn, the sun set early, and there was a pleasant and light coolness outside. Stiles liked this weather because he could wear his flannel shirts. Sheriff Stilinski was on night duty, so you decided to stay "a little bit" and spend the night at Stiles' house. After the story with the obsessed Stiles, you tried to spend as much time with him as possible so that he would not drown in his thoughts and constant guilt. You can say that only with you Stiles felt like himself and he was more than comfortable.

Stiles was waiting for you in the living room to watch Star Wars while you were in the kitchen looking for provisions and food for tonight's movie. After opening the refrigerator and taking out a box of ice cream, you hurried to close it, but suddenly almost jumped because of a loud exclamation behind your back.

In a panic, you turned and looked through the doorway. Bent over and clutching his chest in the heart area, Stiles was a true drama queen. Raising an eyebrow in a silent question, you nodded in the hope that it would explain to you what the deepest scene of the drama you are currently watching.

"I'm sorry, I think I just had a heart attack when I looked at you-you're so cute." Stiles smiled so that charming dimples appeared on his cheeks, he was clearly going to impress you with his statement. But you just clicked your tongue and barely smiled out of the corner of your lips.

"Should I comment on this?" It was a more rhetorical question than an interrogative one, but Stiles was quick to give an answer.

"Yes, you should have said that your boyfriend is the most beautiful and amazing." Stiles smiled even harder and leaned against the wall. A gray T-shirt and dark disheveled hair betrayed the boy the comfort you needed after all the stress you had experienced. "And also that I'm the best actor."

"In that case, you should say that I am the best girl, because no one else would tolerate all your antics." Grabbing ice cream and walking to Stilinski, you stopped in the maximum permissible proximity. The ice cream box between you was the only obstacle. "You're an insufferable fool at times. "

You weren't trying to hurt or hurt Stiles with your words. On the contrary, at times it was this childish stupidity, seasoned with practical jokes and a bunch of jokes, that made you fall in love with him more and more. Stiles took the ice cream box out of your hand and left it on the kitchen table. His arms wrapped around your waist and gently ran up and down your spine.

"Actually, miss. I'm a fool because I love you, and that's the only reason." Stiles smiled slyly and gave you a quick peck on the nose. Your hands were at that moment lying on the boy's chest and smoothing the T-shirt on him.

Leaving a light kiss on your neck, Stilinski continued to lay a path of light kisses along your jaw. You fell silent and slightly closed your eyes. Noticing this, the boy, clearly pleased with his activity with kisses and your reaction, looked into your eyes when you opened them. There was an ear-to-ear smile on his face, and there were sparkles in his eyes.

"Stop smiling, I'm going to kiss you." Your words brought even more happiness to his face, and his smile became even brighter. He deliberately tried to hide her smile, but to no avail. Shaking your head, you lightly kissed the corner of his lips. At the same moment, Stiles stopped smiling and caught your lips with his.

Stiles' hands were also resting on your waist. Slightly squeezing the T-shirt that you safely stole from his closet a couple of hours ago, he let out a light moan into your lips. Following that, you pulled Stiles by the strands of his hair, deepening the kiss and making him make another quiet half-moan. Slightly biting your lower lip, Stiles gently moved away, but did not remove his hands from your waist.

"You have such soft lips. I can kiss them all day, but I'm afraid then our ice cream will melt." He gestured to the box. You nodded affirmatively agreeing with his opinion. "After all, we still have a whole night ahead of us."

[sweet-pea-channie]

Pretty Little Fangs - Stiles Stilinski Imagine (smut)

Author: @sweet-pea-channie​​​

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!vampire!reader

Words: +5,2k

Warnings: smut, oral (male receiving), teasing, deepthroating, car sex, public sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex (be better than that!), riding

Requested by @moumouton4​​: Basically it's Stiles who has a girlfriend who is a vampire and like all vampires she has fangs and she knows from an event that Stiles is turned on by the sight of her fangs and so sometimes she gets them out and smiles at him just to turn him on "playfully" during a class, during a game, in the canteen and even at Derek's house for the pack meeting until he gets tired of it and looses his cool( smut if you want )

AN: I’ve never written anything that involved vampires, and I also never watched anything with vampires like Vampire Diaries or Twilight. So don’t judge me if I got something wrong. I had to research a lot :D But luckily, I’m a huge Supernatural fan. It took me a while to write it, thanks to another writer’s block, but here you go! :) 

Masterlist

"Okay, and why don't we just go and-"

"And what? Ask politely if they would stop attacking us?" interrupted Derek as you stood around the table in the vet clinic. Once again, the Alpha pack had surprised you as you spent another evening at Derek's to figure out how to deal with them. But before you had a plan, Derek's alarm system went off and the entire pack was downstairs in the compound, once again demanding to see Derek and to see you. Why you were so interesting to the Alpha Pack was a mystery to everyone. After all, you were anything but a werewolf. 

"How old are you again?" asked Derek, annoyed.

“17.”

"And for how long?"

"For two months," you reply with a slight shake of your head. "Do you think I would voluntarily spend my whole youth that could last up to god knows how many years in school forever? Once I graduate, that's it."

"Isn't that what all vampires do?" asked Peter, who was once again unwanted in the mix. Fortunately, he had ducked into a corner and was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. 

"Don't you live in wolf dens?"

"Okay, can we please stop this? I don't live in wolf dens!" grunted Peter, pushing himself off the wall and coming closer to you. Stiles' gaze met yours with a proud grin. After all, he had told you about how he had approached Peter about it while the rest of you were in the bank looking for Boyd and Cora.

"Okay, and now maybe we can focus on how to convince the alphas not to kill any more of us?" asked Scott in a raised voice, looking at all of you somewhat disappointed. This was something serious, after all, and once again you couldn't resist egging each other on. 

"Sorry," you mumbled, pressing your lips together. "But let's be serious now. They want something from me that I can't understand why. Why can't I just go up to them and ask what they want from me? Why are they so desperate to have me in their pack? Vampires are not made to live with werewolves. I have my nest, I'm provided with everything I need there."

"I'm strictly against it," Stiles interjected, raising his hand upward. "Who else?"

Of course, you sighed. No one could ever give you a good reason why you couldn't go to the Alphas. 

"Y/N, just because you're immortal and have stronger superpowers than us doesn't mean they can't still kill you," Scott replied, agreeing with Stiles. 

"I don't think werewolves are going to pull out a machete and chop my head off."

"That's pointless," Isaac countered, leaning against the medicine cabinet behind him. "If she wants to go so badly, just let her go."

And oh my, did that plan backfire. Of course, no one wanted you to make your way to Deucalion alone, but no one could stop you anyway. Of course, the next day Scott noticed that something was wrong with you, and so he followed you, without you noticing, into the vacant building where you had found Boyd, Cora and Erica. 

To sum it all up quickly, yes, you were right. Werewolves do not bring a machete to a fight between werewolves and a vampire. Instead, they brought a knife, soaked in dead man's blood, that had incapacitated you for a while, while Kali crouched on the ground in front of you, stroking your cheek with her claws. "You are worth so much more than you think."

The alphas disappeared without even giving you a decent answer, and Scott ran out of his hiding place to help you. Your thoughts were conflicted when you saw him. Annoyed that he didn't trust you and always had to follow you around, but on the other hand relieved that he was there to help you. 

There was no real cure for dead man's blood. Your body had to heal from it alone. Drinking human blood would speed it all up, but if you told your father now that you needed another transfusion today, even though you had just gulped one down yesterday after he got off his shift from the hospital, he certainly wouldn't help you. After all, you had brought this on yourself. He already had to make sure the hospital didn't notice if he took home multiple blood transfusions for the whole family. 

"I called Stiles to come pick you up. I can't very well drive you home on my bike like that. And I don't think your parents are going to be thrilled to see you like this now, are they?" he asked, helping you back to your feet. 

You nodded and put your arm around his shoulder, so he could transport you out without you putting much weight on him. It was already dark outside, after all, it was always safest for you to go out when it was dark. Scott set you down against the wall of the house and walked a little further along the curb toward the street to check on Stiles. "How long will it take to get the blood out of your system?" asked Scott as he turned back to you. 

"Could be a couple of hours," you replied, pressing your lips together until you felt the sharp tips of your fangs, which, thanks to the blood inside you, didn't retract as usual. "So it’d be the best if no one would see me now."

Scott nodded and looked back out at the road, where he could see the lights of Stiles' Jeep in the distance. Stiles put on the brakes when he finally arrived at the old bank and jumped out of the car while the engine was still running. "Are you all right? Is everything okay? What the hell happened? What are you doing?" 

"Everything's fine, Stiles. Just a bit of dead man's blood. It's gonna come out of my system soon," you replied, reaching out your hand for him to help you up. But Stiles suddenly stopped without moving and stared at you motionless. 

"What's wrong with your teeth?" he asked under his breath and kept staring at your fangs. 

"They don't retreat, side effects of the blood," you mumbled as you tried to stand up on your own after he didn't really want to help you. And as if he suddenly understood what was going on again, he sprinted to you and helped you get into his car. You didn't really know why he was acting that way, but it all made sense when you were back at school a few days later. 

It happened at school. Lydia once again had no appetite for the not-so-delicious food in the cafeteria, and so she decided that you would have another day of getting sandwiches from the little café across the street. So Lydia had one arm wrapped around yours and the other around Allisons as you made your way out through the school halls. 

Immediately you recognized his voice among the dozens of strange voices. Once again, Stiles couldn't stop talking. He was still far away from you, you couldn't see him yet. He was probably standing with Scott at his locker, which was around the corner from you. 

“I’m telling you man, her fangs, they just... I don’t know, something is just happening to me when I see them. It’s like they’re turning me on. And even though she was in so much pain the other night, I couldn’t stop looking at them and I couldn’t stop wondering what they’d feel like on my skin.”

“You mean her biting you?!”

“No, no, no. Well, I mean, maybe she could just nibble a bit, you know. As long as she won’t sink her teeth into my skin, I think we’re good.”

“You’re having wild fantasies, man.”

“But I know that she’d never do that. She’s too scared that she’s going to bite me. So just looking at her fangs is enough for now.”

"What's going on?" asked Lydia when she noticed you weren't really paying attention anymore. You finally walked past the hallway that led to Scott's locker, and there you could see the two of them. Stiles was standing next to Scott, who had his head buried deep in his locker, while Stiles couldn't stop talking about your fangs. You didn't even know he was that turned on by them. But one thing you were sure of, you were definitely going to take advantage of that now.

It was actually a normal Thursday, except for the fact that yet another lacrosse game was coming up. Allison and Lydia didn't want to go with you, so you were forced to spend yet another game next to Noah and Melissa. After all, you promised Stiles you would watch every game. You didn't really mind. The fact of seeing a sweaty Stiles with strands of hair stuck to his forehead made him that much more attractive. 

Stiles was finally substituted in the last quarter after having to spend the first 45 minutes on the bench, and he gave it his all for the last 15 minutes.

You were up by three goals and the last two minutes were on the clock when Stiles came closer and closer to the opponent's goal with the ball in the net. His father was already screaming his name in excitement, while everyone around you was already cheering. And who would have thought it, Stiles actually managed to get you another point. His teammates ran up to him and threw themselves at him, while his gaze went in your direction. Proudly, you smiled at him and knew that now was the perfect time. As you smiled at him, you extended your fangs and embellished your vampire smile. Stiles' mouth dropped open abruptly, and he ignored his teammates around him as he struggled to come to grips with what was happening.

He didn't know why you did that, but of course it turned him on all at once. His breath quickened and his heart raced. All he wanted right now was for the last minute to be over as quickly as possible, so he could run to you. 

Scott slapped Stiles on the helmet to get him back in the game, having noticed that Stiles zoned out for a second. Stiles shook his head and concentrated for the remaining seconds until the game finally ended. 

The students who had been watching the game ran onto the field and celebrated the victory with the players. You apologized to Noah and Melissa and made your way to the field where all the students were standing. You lost sight of Stiles when you finally got to the field; he was lost in the crowd. But you didn't have to look for long, because he had already found you. 

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him. You startled, not having seen him coming, and let out a soft gasp as you slammed into his chest. "Stiles."

Stiles' hand immediately reached around and was now on your lower back, pressing you even closer to his sweaty body. His lacrosse jersey had long been removed, and he was only wearing the tight-fitting gray undershirt. Your hands were on his chest and pushed your upper body back a little, so that you could look at him completely. And as you had feared, a few strands stuck to his forehead again, while the others stuck up wildly. You ruffled a hand through his damp hair and rested your hand on the back of his neck. 

"I'm all sweaty," Stiles said, rolling his eyes. 

"I don’t really care at all," you countered. 

Stiles' right corner of his mouth pulled up, and within a second he had his other hand on your cheek and pulled your face to his. He wasted no time and kissed you directly with an energy he never usually did in public. His tongue found your lower lip directly and asked for entrance. You opened your mouth a little wider and moaned softly as his tongue met yours. 

"Guys! Get a room!" someone shouted next to you. You sighed and flicked the person off without even seeing who it was. 

Stiles broke away from you and bit his lower lip as he continued to look at you intently. 

"What was that for?" you asked him, playing with the little hairs on the back of his neck. You could feel exactly how the little hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he got goosebumps on his arms. 

“Just wanted to celebrate the win with my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend,” he replied and placed another kiss, this time a gentle one, on your lips. “I gotta go back to the boys. But will you be at my place once I’m coming home?”

You nodded and pressed your lips to his one last time, and then pushed him into the crowd with the others. He turned once more and winked at you before turning around, tripping once over his own feet, and then joining the boys.

“So the items or concepts used to increase one's economic influence are called what?” Coach asked while walking from left to right in front of the class. "Stilinski!"

"What?" asked Stiles, who had just not been paying attention and looked up from his notepad. 

“Items or concepts used to increase one's economic influence are called what? Come one Stilinski, that’s an easy question! Get it wrong, and you’re benched for the next five games!”

“But Coach! Our next game is the most important one!” Stiles complained, nervously searching his notes for the right answer.

“Well then, I guess you better have the question!”

You couldn't take it from the beginning, and had already taken out your cell phone and quickly texted Stiles the answer as a message. It's capital. Capital is the answer. ;) 

Stiles' phone, which luckily was out in front of him, lit up and your message appeared right on his screen. "Um, it's capital."

Coach was already ready to yell at Stiles and bench him for the next five games. In fact, he had his back turned to the class and was walking toward the blackboard while mumbling to himself. But when he heard the correct answer, he turned abruptly and stared at Stiles in confusion. "That's right, Stilinski."

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief and turned to you. You sat two rows behind him on his right. He mouthed a simple thank you and smiled at you. You winked at him and smiled back, but instead of your normal smile, you showed him your fangs again. Stiles widened his eyes and quickly turned back to look ahead. If you didn't know why he reacted like that, you'd definitely be confused. But luckily, you knew what it was doing to him. 

With your head down, you chuckled to yourself for a moment, thinking about how you could continue to drive him up the wall before he would do something about it. 

After class, Stiles and you headed to the lunch break, where you would meet up with the others as usual. Since the weather was nice as usual, you waited outside by one of the picnic benches for your friends. Stiles was already sitting on the bench while you leaned against the table and waited for Lydia. After all, she had promised to bring you something to eat the day before. 

The break went on as usual. Isaac spent it making stupid and unnecessary comments while Scott tried to reason with him. Stiles sat across from you and stared at you the whole time while you talked with Lydia and Allison. 

"What?" you asked when you finally noticed him looking at you the whole time.

"You have something in your teeth," he said, pointing to his own to show you where, "right there."

"You mean here?" you asked, opening your mouth as you ran your tongue over your incisor. And of course you took the chance again. Before you had opened your mouth, you extended your fangs and showed them in public in front of Stiles. 

Stiles gulped and had to pull himself together to not show his emotions using his gestures. "Mhm," he agreed without really talking and nodded. 

"Is it gone?" you asked, running your tongue over your teeth once more. 

He shook his head and pressed his lips tightly together. He could already feel the sweat forming on his forehead. Why you were showing him your teeth all the time, he couldn't explain.... except...

"Oh god," he muttered and stood up. He grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the table. Lydia cried out briefly as you were yanked away all at once, and looked at Stiles in shock. You shrugged as Stiles pulled you farther and farther away from the group, and only got the same shocked look back from Lydia that she had already given Stiles. 

As soon as you were away from your friends, Stiles pushed you against the wall of the school, where you were far away from everyone else. "You're doing this on purpose!"

"What?!" you asked faithfully. 

"You heard me, I know it. You're doing all of this on purpose!"

"Stiles, I'm afraid I still don't know what you're talking about," you replied while showing him your teeth once again. 

Stiles grunted and put his head back. “You need to put these pretty little fangs away or else-”

“Or what?”

“I can’t promise for you to walk properly the next few days.”

It always turned you on a lot when Stiles told you exactly what he was going to do to you, or when the dominant side of him came out. Nothing was more exciting than that. And so you couldn't wait until school was finally over. 

You were both in his Jeep on the way to Stiles when this feeling came over you. You couldn't wait until you were home, and so you risked everything. You looked at Stiles while he had his left hand on the wheel and his right hand casually resting on his lap. So you grabbed his hand and pulled it over to you. Stiles smiled at you briefly and then focused back on the road. 

First, you played with his fingers and gently stroked each finger with your index finger. You could already see that goose bumps were spreading on Stiles' arm. Next, you took his hand in yours and brought it to your lips to place a kiss on the back of his hand. Stiles hummed softly beside you and pressed his hand against your lips again for you to place another kiss on his hand. However, as you did so, you opened your mouth slightly and thus Stiles' fingers touched your teeth and not just your normal teeth, but your fangs. 

Stiles jerked his head to the side and looked at you with a look you couldn't identify. So you took a step further and opened your mouth even wider. Stiles' pinky was now right between your teeth, and he watched you very closely as you carefully nibbled on his pinky. 

Stiles had to concentrate hard to look ahead again at the road, after all, that was all he had ever imagined that you would include your fangs in your lovemaking. And when you nibbled lightly one more time, Stiles jerked his hand back and clamped down on the wheel with it while now indicating well above the speed limit. 

Not a minute later, Stiles stopped the car in a small driveway in the woods, where hopefully no one would see you. He stopped the engine and pulled the handbrake before reaching for your wrist and pulling you slightly over the console. A soft gasp escaped your lips, darkening Stiles' eyes.

"I warned you."

"I know," you whispered, pressing your lips together as you waited to see what Stiles was going to do to you now. He put his other hand on your cheek and pulled you even closer to him, finally placing his lips on yours. The kiss was directly full of energy, he wasted no time and to show how much he wanted you right now. 

To give you a better grip, you placed your right hand on his thigh and gripped it tightly once. Stiles gave a short moan and broke away from your lips to see what you were doing. You smiled seductively at him and kept moving your hand up until your palm was now over the distinct bulge in his jeans. Stiles licked his lips before biting his bottom lip and sitting down a little further in his seat. 

You pressed your lips on his again while you continued to stroke him through his pants and could feel exactly how his penis twitched and became harder and harder in your hand. Stiles already had one hand around you and his palm was on your back, pressing you closer with it. The other hand found its way to your clothed chest, where he tried to pinch your nipple through the shirt and bra. 

His tongue was already fighting with yours, and again and again a soft moan escaped your soft, plump lips. You detached yourself from his lips and looked at his jeans, where his dick was already clearly visible through the fabric. Already missing your lips, Stiles pressed several sloppy kisses to your neck while you went for the button on his jeans. 

He found your sweet spot and sucked and licked on it until you couldn't stop moaning. It distracted you so much that you couldn't concentrate on freeing his dick from his pants. So Stiles did that for you. Hastily, he opened the rest of his pants and pulled his erect penis out of his boxers. One look at his dick was enough for you. Pre-cum was already leaking from his tip. 

You couldn't wait any longer and wrapped your hand around his erection. Stiles hoisted briefly, again and again he had to get used to the fact that you had ice-cold hands, but that was quickly forgotten, as you licked all the way from the base to the tip where this big and pulsating vein was staring right at you. 

Your tongue was swirling over the tip of his penis, trying to savor the taste of it, but Stiles couldn’t get enough of you. You could feel him pushing your head down onto his erection to finally wrap your lips around his dick. “Please, stop teasing.”

“I’m not teasing,” you mumbled against his dick, the vibration of your voice sending another wave of emotions through his body. 

“Then just suck it.”

“As you wish,” you whispered, and wasted no more time. As you slid him into your mouth, another hiss left Stiles’s lips. Taking your time to get used to his length, you kept one hand at the base of his cock, while your mouth worked on the upper half. You were trying to get as much in as possible. You stroked the part of him that wouldn't fit with one hand and fondled his balls with the other, so that no inch of him was left neglected while you pleasured him with your mouth. Simultaneously sucking and stroking on him, Stiles grabbed your hair, leading you down farther onto him, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You couldn’t hold back the moan that was trying to slip out, and you could feel him twitching in your mouth. Stiles couldn't have been shy about his sounds if he'd wanted to - he panted and moaned in time with your motions, especially on the few occasions you slowed your pace to pay special attention to the sensitive head of his cock, circling it with your tongue.

“Oh fuck, taking my cock like a champ. You want some more, huh?” Stiles grunted and pulled at your hair, so you were looking up at him while you were still sucking his cock. Saliva was running down your throat, and Stiles couldn’t think of something that was more beautiful right now than the sight of your lips wrapped around his penis. 

“I asked you a question.”

“Mhm,” you nodded and saw Stiles’ eyes darken. Suddenly, he was jerking his hip up, hitting the back of your throat once again. 

“Open up wide for me.” 

As told, you opened your mouth wide for him and let him fuck your mouth. Your hands were on his knees, trying to keep you in place while Stiles was fucking your mouth like there was no tomorrow. But Stiles had to stop himself, he wanted to make sure to give you the same pleasure. He grabbed your head and pushed you off of him, immediately missing the warmth of your lips and mouth. 

You were licking your lips and wiped all the fluids from your mouth with the back of your hand, while you kept looking at Stiles, waiting for him to give you orders. 

“Backseat now.”

You did as told and crawled into the back seat. Stiles followed you and made sure you had enough room by pushing the driver's seat forward a bit before he sat down next to you and pulled you onto his lap. His erection was still free of clothes, and you could feel him right between your bodies. Automatically, you began to move your hips on him, causing friction that made you moan. Stiles leaned in and kissed you, desperate and needy, and you almost immediately let a moan slip from your mouth and into his.

Meanwhile, he worked on your shorts, opening the button and the zipper before his hand slipped past your underwear. You gasped as you felt his fingers right between your folds, gathering all the slick. “You’re already so wet for me,” he hummed against your lips. 

“Please just take it off,” you begged. Stiles wasted no time and helped you to take off your shorts, but he stopped at your lingerie. A smirk was set on his lips as his fingers deftly pushed your panties to the side, teasing your entrance with two of them. “Is this all from me?” As the words left him, he pressed open-mouthed kisses to your skin, lips against your shoulder, slowly making their way to your neck. 

Closing your eyes, you leaned your head back to give him more access, trying to grind against his fingers. “Please, Stiles. Want you,” you whined, desperate to have anything from him at the moment, but mostly you just wanted to ride him already. 

“You want me what? Have to be specific, babe,” he said, slipping the tips of his fingers in a bit, just barely giving you a taste of what you were craving so much at the moment.

“Want you in me, Stiles. Just need you to fill me up please,” your words were breathy and desperate, and Stiles’ grin was wide. Without warning, he slid the two digits in, thumb brushing against your clit.

The pace at which he slid his fingers in and out of you was slow and torturous. With your knees buckling, you let go of your shirt to grab a hold of his shoulders and leaned your head against it, voice cracking as you spoke again. “Not- Not your fingers,” you gasped.. ”I need your cock, please, Stiles.”

He let out a light chuckle against your neck, slowly withdrawing his fingers. A whine left your lips as you felt his fingers be replaced with the tip of his dick sliding against your entrance and as he started to push into you, you slowly let yourself sink down onto him.

“Oh god, Stiles,” you wailed, pulling away from him and tilting your head backward. “Stiles, fuck, you’re so big.” There were tears in your voice, and Stiles had to bite the inside of his cheeks to ignore the forming smile.

Stiles pulled his face away, his head once again thrown back against the backseat as moans escaped his mouth, “Fuck, gorgeous. You’re always so tight,” his words burn through you as he slowly fills you up all the way. But he couldn’t wait to be buried deep within you. So with a harsh thrust he was balls deep, a loud gasp filled the car as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to steady you. He moaned when your tight walls swallowed his cock. Using his thumb, he played with your clit as he rocked his hips slowly to build up the pace.

And that’s all the permission you need as you start to drag your hips across his, the tip of his dick nudging your walls. You moan out when he starts to thrust up into you ever so slightly. 

“You’re taking me so well,” Stiles murmured as he laid his head down on your cleavage and lightly nibbled your skin. He built up the pressure with his thumb on your clit and could feel you clenching. Stiles knew he wouldn't last long like this, he loved it when you rode him. Thank god, did your strength allow you to have the stamina for this. 

"Oh god, Stiles," you moaned. The pressure in your belly was increasing, and you could feel your orgasm slowly approaching. “Please don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna last long if you keep going like that, babe,” Stiles groaned, placing his lips faintly on top of yours. “Shit.”

Feeling his member twitch, you heard him say “Fuck Y/N I’m close. Can you cum for me?” Tightening around him, you moaned “Stiles I’m gonna cum.”

Your heartbeat raised, your cunt tightened into something that made it so easy for him to spill.  “Sti- Stiles, Oh fuck-” your sentence was ruined by a moan, your body shaking as your mouth remains open.

You felt my orgasm hitting you like a brick. Cumming all over Stiles’ cock, you had to push his hand off of your clit, the feeling getting too much for you. 

Under you, Stiles moaned, his face scrunched up as he could feel his release at the edge of him. Your cunt closed around him as you were riding out your orgasm, clinging to his cock, and your lips captured his as he moaned into your mouth. One last clench of you and you had him. He spilled everything he had for you inside your tight walls, and you absorbed the lustful moan he always gave you when he came. 

Slowly, you came to a stop and sat on Stiles for a while, while you caught your breath. The beads of sweat on Stiles' forehead showed how intense it was just then. The windows were also slightly fogged, no wonder with the rising heat in the car. You could feel him softening inside you, but Stiles kept you on his laps with his strong hands on your thighs. 

“God, Y/N. The things you do to me,” Stiles breathed out and captured your lips softly. 

“Guess we have to thank them,” you replied with a smirk and showed him your fangs again, biting on your lip with them. 

“Put them away right now!” he warned you. “Or I swear to you, I’m taking you all over again, but this time on the hood of my car.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your lips against his again. “Sounds like a plan.”

[strangerquinns]

Hi gorgeous! Can I get a Stiles or Dylan fic with prompts- Showing up at enemy's door; having to undress your love interest to be able to tend to their wounds, trying your best not to stare at their bare-chest and "because I love you!"

Sort of an exes to lovers fic?

LOVE YOUR WRITING SO FUCKING MUCH!! :)

prompts that hit all the right places

Stiles x Reader

friends to lovers to ex's to lovers

Break-ups are hard, but it's even worse when your ex still seems to always be around.

angst; warnings - mentions of blood and violence

kinda long :)

Never did you think that Stiles would be a person you'd come to hate.

Ok, maybe hate wasn't the right word to use.

But lately seeing the brunette made a hot rage fill your body.

Never did you think that Stiles would break your heart. But here you are nearly a month after the breakup still feeling the burn of losing him. You'd been friends with Stiles and Scott since you were all little kids. You always knew that through whatever that you were going to have them in your life. You were the three musketeers. Or at least that's what Stiles called you when he was seven and obsessed with the movie.

But now there was a divide and you could feel and you hated it.

Stiles was the one to call the end of it. After going through everything with the nogitsune and being possessed it had changed. You thought that everything was going to be normal - oh how naïve you were. It only took a week for Stiles to break up with you.

Scott being the amazing friend that he was tried to fix it.

"He broke up with me Scott! What don't you understand!" You cried into Scott's chest as he held you. Your body was shaking from the violent sobs that rocked your body. He thought for a moment he was able to physically hear your heart split in two.

"He's scared," Scott spoke softly, tightening his hold around you, "Just give him time, y/n."

You wanted to believe your best friend. But you no longer did.

"You should really go to the vet office and have Deaton look at that. Could need stitches." Lydia spoke as she stared down towards your blood-soaked t-shirt. The former white shirt made the wound look worse than it was. The dark red stained across your chest.

"I'll be fine, Lydia." You spoke, "I'm just gonna take a shower, bandage up and go to sleep."

"You got scratched by a werewolf...think that calls for medical attention."

"Lydia...go home."

You stared towards the redhead as she stood in your doorway. After a long and tense pause between the two of you, she caved and walked out of your bedroom. Yelling over her shoulder at how stupid you were being, but after the night you'd had, you just wanted sleep.

You winced as you reached to slowly pull your shirt over your head, dropping the ruined shirt into the hamper. When you walked over to the mirror that leaned against the wall, you got the first look at the three slices across your chest. Stepping a little closer you saw that they were in fact a little deep.

Maybe Lydia was right?

But before you could dwell on that thought anymore, the sound of the doorbell sounded from downstairs. Scott was the first person that came into your mind. You thought that Lydia had called him about what happened to you and he was coming to check on you. As the Alpha, Scott felt like it was his duty to protect and check-in with everyone in the pack.

Reaching over and grabbing your zip-up hoodie on the back of your chair, you slowly made your way towards the front door. Every step never lets you forget that pain that you were in. The knocking continued which only agitated you more than anything.

"I'm coming!" You screamed towards the closed door just as you made it towards the bottom of the stairs.

But they didn't care, they continued to knock.

As you opened the door a growl left from you, swinging the door open when more force than you wanted. That movement alone caused the cuts on your chest to open up again.

"What!" You screamed, eyes wide and wild, but soon a different feeling came over you. The anger that you were becoming all too familiar with lately. "Stiles?"

He rocked his weight from one foot to the other as he stood before you. Stiles snapped his head towards you at the sound of the door opening and your voice. His brown eyes were widened slightly before calming for a moment.

But as you watched him you thought you saw his body sag slightly as a large sigh passed his lips. Stiles reached a hand up to run through his hair slightly as he stood before you.

"Thank god," He whispered, mostly to himself.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, face still cast in confusion.

"I came to check on you. Scott wouldn't really tell me what was going on...but I knew something was wrong when Lydia called. Could nearly hear her screaming through the phone so I panicked..." Stiles stared towards you. You could feel the anxiousness rolling off him. "So I rushed over to make sure that you were ok."

There was a long pause before he spoke again.

"...So...a-are you...ok?"

"I'm fine," You answered with your voice a little more clipped than you intended. Stiles flinched back from your town and you tried to ignore it. But seeing the slightly hurt look in his brown eyes made your chest tighten.

But as Stiles' eyes slowly moved back to look towards you, you watched as his brows pulled together. Stiles whispered something to himself before stepping forward. You stumbled away from him for a moment - but you felt his hands grab at your biceps to stop you.

"Are you bleeding?" He asked as he pulled slightly on the collar of your sweatshirt.

"What?"

Your head turned down to look but couldn't see anything. Without thinking, Stiles reached for the zipper and quickly pulled it down. It all happened quickly without giving you time to react. As the zipper moved down the sweatshirt the bleeding gash that went right across your chest came into view. Stiles' eyes widened in shock before he took a step back.

"Jesus christ Stiles!" You screamed as you moved to cover yourself up.

Because in the process of the claws ripping into your skin, it tore away your bra. Meaning you were completely topless under the zip-up.

"You can't just fucking do that!" You screamed towards him.

"Are you crazy! You're openly bleeding, y/n!" Stiles screamed, his hand motioning towards the blood that'd dripped onto the floor where you once stood. "Why aren't you with Deaton right now?"

You clenched the shirt closed a little more, feeling the blood warm and drip onto your hands. "I don't need Deaton. They were scabbing over. I must've opened it again."

You hissed and moved your hand away as you pressed a little too much.

Stiles rolled his eyes and moved you quickly back up the stairs. You stumbled and tried to fight against him, but soon, it became pointless to fight against him. You took a seat on the end of your bed and Stiles walked into your bathroom, grabbing the large first aid kid you had. Once Scott turned to have this kid became something that was handy more than once.

You watched as Stiles rushed to grab your desk chair and move it in front of you. His hands shook as he looked through the kit.

"I can't fucking believe you right now," Stiles scolded

You rolled your eyes, "Why are you acting pissed right now?"

Stupid question.

"Why!? Why?" Stiles' eyes were darker as he looked towards you. For a moment flashes of Void came back into your mind. "You get hurt and don't let a single person help you! Come on, y/l/n, use your fucking head."

"Don't talk to me like that!" You snapped defensively.

Stiles scoffed and grabbed the bandages, along with a couple of cotton pads. He tipped the alcohol bottle over onto the pads before moving to you. "I'm going to need to get to the cuts."

"I'm topless under this,"

"Nothing I haven't seen before," He spoke and stared towards you. That statement made you glare towards him.

But after a few seconds, you let the hoodie fall open.

Deep down you knew there was no one else you trusted but Stiles.

Stiles sighed heavily and moved forward slightly before gently moving to clean around and along the cut. The more the two of you sat there the more intense the tension became. It was so thick it felt suffocating. It also wasn't helping to feel your ex's breath against your chest causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin. Your hands fisted on your laps as you felt your heart start to race.

"Still haven't answered me," Stiles spoke, clearing his throat, his eyes darting between you and the task before him, "Why didn't you tell anyone."

You shrugged your shoulders. "Because I didn't."

Stiles rolled his eyes before tossing the pads into the trash can. "You're lucky you don't need stitches."

You looked down and watched as Stiles, blatantly, stared at your chest.

A blush came over his cheeks as he looked up to see he'd been caught. He spoke a sorry before moving on again.

"Like you said...you'd seen it before." You spoke and hissed as he pressed the bandage down around the cut.

"Still...don't have a right anymore."

"Whose fault is that?" You snapped and glared towards him.

"Why are you like this?" Stiles asked, "I mean...we used to be friends and now you act like you hate me."

"You're seriously asking me that question" You spoke, Stiles only staring towards you as he waited for you to continue. "You broke up with me!"

"It was better we weren't together," Stiles spoke, dropping his gaze away from you, and cleaning up. You zipped your hoodie up, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

"Glad you still made that call for me, Stiles." You moved to stand, needing to be away from him. "Because I sure as hell don't think it was better for us. You ripped my heart out like it never meant anything to you."

"That's not true." Stiles snapped.

"Could've fucking fooled me, Stilinski. You were so cold that day. Walked away from me like I meant nothing to you. And you really thought I was going to be able to act like nothing happened? Go back to normal?"

"You just don't get it." Stiles shook his head as he looked down towards the floor. "You don't get it."

"Then tell me!" You moved to drop down in front of him, forcing him to look towards you. "Tell me and maybe I will. Because I don't understand why Stiles."

"Because I love you!" He shouted "Because I love you and couldn't live with the fact that I hurt you. That..."

Stiles choked back a sob and cupped his hand over his mouth. You sat back on your knees knowing exactly what he was talking about.

Void.

It seemed the entire time the nogitsune possessed Stiles, you were the one he liked to toy with the most. It started off slow with little taunts here and there.

But the night Stiles was referring to was bad. You could still feel his fingers wrapped around your throat sometimes. Hearing the maniacal laugh as your vision became more blurry. The pain and strife he needed to feed...you became the source. Void got off on knowing Stiles was screaming and begging for him to stop. Even though it was your boyfriend's hands that were hurting you.

"I still have nightmares about it..." Stiles looked towards you and you could see the tears before they fell down his cheeks. "And I...I couldn't pretend to be...ok with everything that happened."

"So you pushed me away." It wasn't a question.

Stiles nodded, "I still love you. I love you so much. And I know why you're mad at me...I'm mad at myself. I hate myself."

"You know I don't see that as you, Stiles. You know that? Please...you have to know that in my mind it wasn't you that hurt me. It was Void."

"It was my hands," He pulled his hands out between the two of you, they were shaking slightly. "My hands around your throat. My hands that were trying to kill you."

You quickly shook your head and grabbed his hands tightly, "No. We could've worked through this, Stiles."

He nodded his head and pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"I wasn't thinking." He whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"It's ok" You moved and wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Stiles moved to wrap his arms around your middle. His face buried into the crook of your neck and relaxed into you. "We're ok. We're ok, Stiles."

As you stayed there pressed against him, for the first time in weeks, you didn't feel anger anymore.

[laheysdork]

strangers - stiles stilinski

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

word count: 4.8k

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

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

masterlist

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

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

7.50 A.M.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the class goes wild.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck-

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

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

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

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

God.

“Yeah,” you replied bluntly, glancing up.

“I- um, I wanted to say-“

“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you.”

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

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

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

“Okay, how about tomorrow?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, I-“

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

“No, but-“

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know, it’s-“

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

“Y/N, we didn’t-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for being an excellent evader.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine,” you grunt in defeat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe, you’re just slightly jealous.

Okay, slightly was an understatement.

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

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

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

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

“It’s fine.”

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

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

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

“I want to help Y/N, I-“

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

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

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

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

You let out a humorless chuckle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get out,” you spat, emotionless.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to-“

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

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

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

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

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

Gosh, you look dead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck is happening?

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

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

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

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

Now you are horrified.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Out of everyone in the pack, why him?

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

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

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

“We should clean it-“

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

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

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

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

Oh God has he always been this slow?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stiles-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Stiles snaps from behind Scott.

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

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

“That’s not what I said-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The dread doctors.

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

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

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

[just-my-type-x]

Masterlist

✨smut ; 🌺fluff; 🥶angst; 💌 normal/playful

Colby Brock

Constructive Arguments ✨🥶

A Scare At The Bellaire ✨🥶

A Hot Mess ✨🌺

The Other Way Around 🌺🥶

Chill Day Headcanon 🌺

Playtime Headcanon ✨

Black Swan Inn 🌺

You're fucking with my head 🥶

Hot Piece ✨🥶-ish

Say My Name Like It's Holy ✨🥶

Thinking About You Playlist Headcanon 🌺

Not So Sneaky Afterall 💌

Call Me By My Name ✨

"Colby, i swear to God..." 💌✨-ish

Not So Shy 🌺💌

Everything I Didn't Say 🌺

Evil Lurks Here 🌺

If You Weren't Here 🌺🥶-ish

Will You Marry Me? Headcanon 🌺

Another Pretty Lie 🥶

Make Up Your Mind 🌺💌

Mizpah Hotel 💌✨-ish

Unholy ✨🥶

Bitch, U Better Be Joking 🥶

Detective Brock 🥶

Spoiled Surprise 💌🌺

Ghostly Encounter 💌🌺

The Aftermath (Part 2 for Hot Piece) ✨

Home Alone 💌🌺

The Lighthouse 🥶🌺

Old Washoe Club 🌺

Late Night In 💌🌺

Hate The Game 🥶✨

Brad Simpson

Mob The Vamps 🥶

Love Again pt 1 🌺🥶, pt 2 ✨🥶, pt 3 🌺✨

Lover Of Mine 🌺🥶✨

Drive Me Insane ✨

Don't Talk Nonsense, Darling ✨

Hush ✨

Jealousy Headcanon 💌

Protective Headcanon 💌

Naughtiness Headcanon ✨

Boyfriend Headcanon 💌

Making You Feel Better Headcanon 🌺💌

Best Of Both Worlds Headcanon ✨💌

Forever Yours ✨🌺

Birthday King✨

Countryside Escapade ✨

Just My Type/Dating a Brazilian Headcanon 💌🌺

Nice To Meet Ya 💌🌺

A Team Headcanon 💌🌺

Hell Week Headcanon 💌🌺

Sleeping with Brad Headcanon 💌🌺

My Day One 🥶🌺

Vampire Headcanon 🥶🌺💌

Playful Fingers Headcanon ✨

Call Time ✨

It Feels Too Good 🌺💌✨-ish

Tying You Up Headcanon ✨

Showstopper 🥶

You're A Vibe (Part 2 for Showstopper)🥶✨

Deadline For Love 💌

"Be a good girl" (Part 2 for DFL) ✨

Sweet Dreams 🌺✨-ish

Flirtationship ✨

"Eyes Up Here" 🥶✨

"I'd Get On My Knees For You" 🥶✨

Friendly Much 🥶✨

Smoke and Fire 🥶

Untouchable 🥶

New Us 🌺💌

Talk is Cheap 🌺💌

Another Me🌺💌

Mr. and Mrs. Simpson ✨

Night Outs and Nightclubs 🥶✨-ish

Little White Dress 🥶✨-ish

Body On Me ✨

Tell Me How You Really Feel 🥶

Glass Half Full 🥶

Honey, You Got All Of Me ✨

Most Feels Aren't Temporary 🌺✨

Tit For Tat 🥶✨

If Brad Simpson was ur boyfriend 🌺

Curly Heads and Caffè Lattes ✨

Tristan Evans

Naked Confessions ✨

Dylan O'brien & characters

From enemies to lovers 🥶✨

Misunderstood Smiles 🥶✨

Love Yourself 🌺

An unusual context // Stiles Stilinski 🥶✨

Things Take Time // Mitch Rapp ✨

Victorian Habits 🌺💌

Cody Christian & characters

Fixing You // Asher Adams 🌺

Not So Evil After All // Theo Raeken 🥶🌺

"Champagne" // Asher Adams 🌺✨

[fitzells]

would you be able to do “running your fingers through your lover's hair” with stiles please? 🤍

i’m not going anywhere, stiles stilinski.

notes: this is so short but i randomly got inspo for it after it sitting in my inbox for yonks?

word count: 470 (very short very sweet)

warnings: mentions of s5??

“It wasn’t your fault, Stiles.”

Your voice was quiet, contrasting serenely against the harsh pattering of rain pelting against the large window. He didn’t reply, and you didn’t have to look down to know he was staring out the window; mind flittering further and further away from reality. His head was resting against your collarbone, his body still trembling as your hands gently raked through the chocolate hued tresses.

It had simply been one of those nights, even though you both had long since left Beacon Hills, it hadn’t been so easy to forget all of the daunting memories of your past. Like tonight; for instance, Stiles had been disturbed from his otherwise peaceful slumber by the haunting images of Donovan (or, to be more specific, Donovan’s impaled corpse, strewn across the floor of the school library)

“I killed someone, Y/N.” He whispered against your warm skin, subconsciously nuzzling further into it when you dragged your nails across his scalp, scratching at various spots soothingly, the way you always did; you always knew how to calm him down.

“I took his life away; how can you still love me?”

You closed your eyes, letting out a soft sigh, you’d been here before; reassuring him, just as he’d reassured you when you recalled your supernatural related errors in the past. Your nimble fingers softly tugged at a knot in his hair, and you ran your free hand over his bicep carefully. “Because it was self defence, Sti. He was chasing you; it was either you, or him; and everyday, I thank whoever I need to thank, that it was him.”

“You did it for your dad, Stiles. You did it for me.” His head was buried in the crook of your neck now, your hands still soothingly running over his skin as he took in the words he’d heard so frequently. Sometimes, he just needed to hear you say it; because if you didn’t think he was a bad person, in his eyes, he wasn’t a bad person.

“I love you, Stiles.” You murmured, voice laced in fatigue whilst you cast your gaze down to stare at him in your moonlight lit bedroom. His dark, tired eyes met your own; and yet, despite all of his pain, a faint little smile barely ghosted his lips, so you took the win.

“I love you too. So much.” He mumbled into your skin, wriggling up in your embrace until he had you wrapped around his body, cradling your head close to his chest and tangling your limbs together, making you let out a sigh of content. His nervous twitching had calmed, shaky breathing slowed, and wide, anxious eyes he turned heavy as the sleep he desperately craved was finally chasing him.

“Get some sleep, Sti. I’m not going anywhere.”