#Dylan Obrien !
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masterstiles · 12 hours ago
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Stiles. 💙
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masterstiles · 3 days ago
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Okay, these are convincing.
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heradion · 8 months ago
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Ya'll remember this cute ass BTS pic of Tyler Hoechlin and Dylan O brien from Season 6B where their umbrellas literally represent their personalities?
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Stiles being the rainbow sunshine character/light while Derek has black cat energy/ is the dark grumpy brooding character.
Edit : I can't believe this reached 1000 notes.
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mysticallystilinski · 1 year ago
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FEELING [ stiles x fem! reader ]
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desc. STILES CAN’T KEEP HIS HANDS OFF YOUR BODY
has : SMUT 17+, fingering, very clingy stiles, tit sucking, tit playing, sub!reader, heavy teasing, whimper!kink.
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“please stiles”, you moan out as he rubs against your body. it has been days since he has even came close to touching you. it was an understatement on how badly you needed him. his large hands run up and down your delicate body. he grinned in excitement at any little whimper that comes out of you.
“be patient”, he whispers in your ear. his heavy breath coming that close to you was enough to make you cum. you had no articles of clothing taken off you quite yet, but you knew soon enough he would have to cave in. you push off his torso and place your feet on the cold floor.
you lower your hands to the rim of your shirt, and proceed to pull it off in a quick flash. stiles sat on the bed, practically mind blown at this sudden boost of confidence. you walked closer to him as you heard his breathing pattern get quicker.
stiles had a certain feeling that you were putting on a false show. he tugged onto the waistband of your pants, and pulled you closer in between his legs. he looked up at you with those soft brown eyes. “why are you acting like this sweetheart”, he groaned out. your words got caught in the back of your throat as he slowly stood up and placed you to the side.
he looked down upon you in lust as you scanned his large figure. his brown eyes almost certainly turned to black as he grabbed your shoulders and sat you down upon the bed. he now stood above you while you were in the opposite position as before. he got onto his knees, and slowly ran his hands up and down your thighs.
“stiles please, don’t tease”, you practically whimpered. he interlocked his fingers into your waistband, and slid the soft flannel pants down your legs and to the side of the bed. he was now approached with your light red panties. he slowly moved his head toward your core, took his mouth and dug his teeth upon them.
he smirked as you looked down onto him in waiting. he lowered his head as the panties followed along with him intertwined in his teeth. he dug his fingers into your things as he made his away along your silky legs. he reached the bottom and discarded your sweet panties. stiles mind filled with all the things he wanted to do with you. he thought first about fingering you, then slowly moving onto other things.
he lifted his head up, and saw your facial expression. it was a mix of impression and excitement. your smile lit up the room as stiles started to giggle as he got closer to your heat. he used his large hands to spread your thighs apart, and lowered his head closer. his fingers untangled your thighs and moved to your throbbing pussy.
he slowly inserted one finger, then heard a gasp for air. you whimpered as his long finger headed deeper inside of you. he took it slightly out, and inserted one more finger. your head was thrown back in pleasure as he slowly pumped both fingers in and out. you felt him get closer to you as his fingers continued to glide in and out at the perfect speed.
your body filled with tingles as he increased his speed. one hand was gripping your boob, while the other was heading inside of you. you quickly moved and scrambled as his fingers hit just the right spot. he slowly used the hand on your boob to play with your nipple, slightly pinching it for a pleasurable feeling.
your body was feeling hot and heavy while stiles slowly talked you up to an orgasm. “you’re doing so good y/n”, he spoke. you gasped in shock and pleasure when he said those five words. “please cum for me”, he groaned out. you saw his eyes focused on your wet pussy when he looked up and smirked in a devilish way.
he held eye contact with you as he spoke softly, “baby you look so good taking my fingers.” your head filled with the things he was doing to you, and how good it felt. your core tightened as you felt the moment coming. he hit your g-spot one last time, and you collapsed. cum overflowed out of you as stiles latched his mouth onto your pussy.
he sucked up all he could, and gripped onto your thighs with both hands. you saw him look up at you with his lustful eyes. his tongue delved all around your area as he grinned. he lifted his head and moved his body so that he was on top of you. he lowered his head to your boob as slightly used his tongue to head around the area of your nipple.
stiles couldn’t help but groan as your body smelled sweet. his tongue clenched around your hard nipple, and you moaned out in peace. he slightly chuckled at your noise, but still was focused. he unlatched his mouth, and slightly placed his lips onto yours. he pulled back, “i want you to taste yourself.” your eyes widened but you complied as he stuck his tongue into your mouth. your eyes got heavier as he slid his hand up your bare body.
he made out with you to help you release some tension. you felt on cloud nine as your soft lips intertwined with yours. he removed his lips, and slowly smirked. “what are you up to stilinski?”, you groaned and rolled your eyes.
“round 2?”
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ruerecs · 9 months ago
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WHERE. ARE. THE. NEW. STILES STILINSKI FICS?!?!?!
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silentmacabre · 1 year ago
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man stays baffled
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bellzsad · 9 months ago
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honestly in the movie it’s not the “please, tommy, please” that gets me, it’s the “it’s okay… it’s okay,” from thomas
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dcangel · 1 year ago
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kinda hyper-fixated on riding stiles and calling him a big boy at the same time.
because this man boy would sit there underneath you, bottom teeth scraping at his upper lip as he tries to contain his pretty whimpers that kept escaping him. his fingers gripping, digging into the pudgy fluff of your hips and thighs. “y’so tight.”
your nails scratched at his v-line, deep red lines being left by pretty maroon nails—his favorite colors. “jus’so fucking big, sti…” you breathed out, “such a big boy, hmm?”
“mm-mhm.” he whines softly. stiles couldn’t believe how turned on he was by her dirty words, by how much he wanted to please her. who knew such an innocent, doe-eyed girl could spew such filthy words from such a pretty mouth.
you couldn’t help it, with the way he was stretching your walls and pressing those oh so good spots inside you that your own fingers couldn’t reach, how were you supposed to maintain that ingenuousness?
his nails burrowed into your soft skin, leaving little crescent shapes. his eyes were glued to where he disappeared inside you with each bounce and thrust. the wet squelching noises were squalid, and most times he couldn’t hear much else. only when his view was obstructed by your face did his pull his eyes up to meet yours. you flattened yourself against him; your stomach on his, and your breasts resting on his chest. to stiles, the feeling of skin-on-skin contact was worth more than words. it was the only thing that could bring him back to this planet after you overworked him.
you smiled when you saw those gorgeous brown eyes of his finally connecting with yours. “there we go.”
stiles was overwhelmed; you were on top of him, giving him so many sensations, so many things to touch or relish in. he couldn’t choose. you leaned down to darken the fading hickey right at the base of his neck, having given him one in that spot a few days ago. you simply didn’t see a point in letting it fade. he might as well have gotten it tattooed if he wasn’t so afraid of needles.
a deep-purple mark bloomed right over the spotty red one, and you made sure he would still be able to hide it with his flannels for a few days. your thumb wiped the spit from the bruised skin so you could get a full view of your work. stiles knew he’d be admiring the mark in every mirror he passed by, thankful that it was only one tug of a shirt collar away.
your hips rocked against his, not even pulling up anymore. you just loved the way his tip grazed your cervix—like scratching an itch only he could get—and how your swollen clit ground against his lower abdomen.
“you’re so perfect,” his words came from a place deep in his mind, so breathy, so pussydrunk, “i love you.”
knowing stiles didn’t even care for a response in return, not that he’d even be aware of one, you kissed his swollen lips (both his and your doing) to bring him back down to earth, even if only for a few seconds. you thumbed over the plush skin, purely admiring your boy, feeling both proud of and admirable of his prevailing state.
“you’re so good, sti.” the words weren’t really meant as a praise for him. rather, you said it because you genuinely meant it. “my big boy. fillin’ me up so well.”
you swore you saw something behind his eyes malfunction. his cock twitched inside you as he grasped at your hips, unintentionally taking control for just a few seconds so he could move you back and forth, his dick slapping against your spongy walls. your fingers pressed into his shoulders as you clung around him like a vice.
stiles was whimpering desperately and hastily, each one interrupting the next. it was so refreshing that stiles wasn’t afraid to let those sound freely flow from his pretty mouth or be loud for you. he didn’t care if his noises weren’t deep and guttural, although they certainly could be at times. and you favored either or depending on who was taking care of who; his whiny whimpers and soft moans coming out when he was desperate and being especially needy, or his low, throaty groans and praises when he needed to show you how much he loved you.
“i—shit,” he whimpered, high pitched and needy like you adored. “f-fuck,” stiles groaned deeply. it was so broken up, his voice so cracked, so desperate that it sounded like he was pleading. not pleading for a release, but pleading for forgiveness. you quickly felt his reason for pleading spill inside you: warm and thick.
“sorry, sorry, m’sorry.” stiles’ breaths were reduced ragged gasps as he clutched your waist, his arms finding their home around your body. “love you so much.”
you bit your lip at the gushing feeling flooding your already-filled hole. “hmnn, stiles.” you felt him bury his face in your neck, sweaty skin on sweaty skin as he murmured apologies and compliments of how good you feel.
it was moments like these that softened your heart even through such intimacy; moments where he came without warning or any signs, where his forehead nestled perfectly in the curve at the base of your neck, where he was reduced to muffled, strangled whines and sometimes apologies if he could muster them. and all because of a few words—of course with the help of being inside you, but you were sure you could probably just make him come with your words alone.
somewhere along the way of your cunt throbbing in time with his milked cock, and slowly lifting your hips only to drop them back down lazily, you found your own sweet release. stiles was slightly overworked, slightly overstimulated, but this was such a perfect sight in your eyes.
you took a peek down at where the two of you connected, and a thin, white-ish ring was formed at the base of his length. each time you lifted yourself up, strings of milky white liquid kept another physical attachment with him. the build up was definitely worth it in its own way, but the release was divine. as always, though. stiles, even when he may not be completely all there in the moment, always knew how to send you hurdling toward what you swear is the best orgasm each time. he’s definitely fought you before for who had the better orgasm, ending in round twos all the way to round fives. how you two managed to make it that far was a damn mystery as well as a miracle.
but right now, you were only focused on your boy—your pretty boy, and the alluring noises seeping from those pink, kiss-bitten lips. “’love you more, pretty boy.” you halfheartedly chaffed.
his response was the reason for the returning gibes: a small muffled whine of some muddled words. and stiles never failed to live up to any nicknames or unserious expectations you tauntingly gave him.
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sourwulf · 2 months ago
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stiles comes to you after his female anatomy class and asks you to help. he says he’s never even watched torn so has never even seen a vagina, but yours is the first one he winds up seeing and eating out
༄  word count  —  2.3k
፨  characters  —  stiles stilinski
☓  tw  —  none
⊹  cw  —  smut & oral, losing of virginity
☼  a/n— i have... severely neglected this blog
✎  masterlist
you were sitting on your couch watching tv, a root beer flavored sucker between your lips. you were channel surfing, nothing catching your eye. your front door opened unannounced, making your head whip towards it.
after it closed, the familiar face of stiles poked around the corner.
you sighed, glad it wasn't an intruder.
"hey," you greeted. "ever heard of knocking?"
"sorry, it's raining and the door was unlocked. i figured you wouldn't mind."
he kicked his shoes off and walked over to sit next to you, mimicking your position by crossing his arms.
"what flavor is that?" he asked, looking at the stick in your mouth.
"root beer."
"nice."
"so what's up?"
"i was hoping you could help me study."
"as long as it's not math."
"honestly, i kinda wish it was."
"why? what is it?"
"so... it's for my health class. we're doing a human anatomy course for the sex ed unit."
"and you need my help... why?"
"well... it's female anatomy." you raised your eyebrows. "you're the only person i'm comfortable with asking for help on this."
you just looked at him for a second before taking in a deep breath and turning off the tv.
"alright, fine."
within a couple of minutes you were both upstairs on your bed. you sat against your headboard, him laying on his side horizontal across the bed with his assignment in front of him.
so far, it was just multiple choice and fill in the blank questions. he was reading them out, getting your answers.
"what do the ovaries do?" he asked, a diagram of the uterus, ovaries, and fallopian tubes above the questions, with lines to label each.
"make hormones and contain eggs."
he skimmed the answers, finding the one that fit that description the best.
once he finished that chart, he flipped the page to see a very detailed diagram of a vagina, also with lines pointing to specific parts of it for him to label.
he looked at it for a moment, as if he was really studying it.
"vulva."
"i'm pretty sure that's just an all-inclusive word to include everything."
he circled the right answer
"what is the... clitoris? did i say that right?"
hearing stiles say the word 'clitoris' was a bit weird, but to be fair most people don't really say the full word.
"are you really asking me what the clit is?"
"yeah, what is it?"
you looked at him slightly in disbelief, chuckling a bit.
"come on, stiles."
"what?"
you were dumbfounded. everyone knows what the clit is.
"you've never even heard the word?"
"i've heard of it, i just don't know what it is."
"it's kind of obvious if you're looking at a vagina."
he shrugged. "never seen one. well, other than this drawing."
now this left you stunned. never seen a vagina? how was it possible for a teenage boy to never have seen one?
"you've watched porn, though."
he shook his head. "nope."
somehow he continued to shock you more with every sentence.
"never?"
"never."
"stiles, you're a teenage boy, and you're telling me you've never watched porn?"
"never needed to."
"the clitoris is... it's like a little bud above the vaginal opening. it's full of nerve endings and it's really only there for pleasure purposes."
"huh. interesting. can i ask you a question?"
"shoot."
"does every vagina look like this?"
"what do you mean?"
"like... are they all identical?"
"uh... no. every vagina is different. just like every penis is different. some of them are dangly, some are hairy, it just depends on the person."
"does yours look like this?"
your eyebrows dipped.
"did you really just ask me that?"
"i thought i was allowed to ask questions."
"yeah, general questions."
"that is a general question."
you sighed. "similar. but not really. i mean, they all have the same basic parts. but the anatomy is different sometimes."
he nodded. "wish i could see a real one up close."
it was kind of funny, how he was talking about vaginas like a specimen he could study.
"you will someday." he made eye contact with you and raised his eyebrows slightly. "stiles. you're not implying what i think you are, are you?"
"i mean... i'm not gonna say no."
"i'm not showing you my vagina!"
"that's not what i was asking, pervert," he said in an unconvincing tone.
to be completely honest, you weren't completely against the idea. the best way to learn was to see the real thing, not just a drawing.
you sighed. "fine." his eyes lit up a bit. "on one condition."
"mm?"
"no touching. only looking."
he nodded.
"sounds fair to me."
you could not believe you were fully exposing yourself to him right now, your vagina just out. your upper body was propped up on your pillows, your knees bent and thighs spread with his eyes glued to you.
"and no judging my lack of shaving."
he shrugged. "doesn't bother me."
he was looking at you like it was a book and he was reading every word.
"this is kinda weird, right?" you asked, trying to break the tension. and trying to distract him from the fact that his gaze was causing you to grow wetter and wetter with every second.
"a little bit, yeah."
"so... my vagina is the first one you've ever seen."
"yep. looks pretty similar to the drawing."
a few seconds of heavy silence went by.
"i mean... it's hard to learn when you're not... hands-on." you mentally slapped yourself for how cringey that sounded.
he froze, looking up into your eyes.
"what?"
"yeah, i mean... how are you supposed to learn what the clitoris is if you don't get to see what it does?"
"oh. i don't- i don't know."
"exactly."
"but you said no touching."
"i know what i said. maybe sometimes it's good to... break rules."
he slowly crawled closer to you and you spread your thighs wider. the cold air against your wetness could've given you chills.
"what... what do i do?" he asked, his face only a couple of inches away.
"see if you can find the words on your paper."
he looked over at it. "labia."
he lightly poked your wet lips — not the ones on your face.
"good."
"was that it?"
"mhm. good job."
"clitoris," he said without looking back at the paper.
"you remembered that one."
he looked around for a second before, without warning, placing the pad of his pointer finger onto your clit, making you take in a deep breath.
"that?"
"yep. right again."
"what do you... do with it?"
it was uncomfortable to explain, especially with a face in your vagina and a finger on your clit.
"uh... lots of things. really it's just different ways of touching it and touching it with different things. so, you could go in circles, back and forth, up and down. you can also use your tongue or some kind of toy. it's another thing that just depends on the person, everyone likes different things."
"what do you like?"
"circles, usually."
with a second of hesitation, he began slowly moving that finger in circles. you let out a breathy moan and closed your eyes, but he stopped.
"was that okay?"
you opened your eyes and looked down at him.
"that was good."
"so... what happens? is there like... an end goal here?"
"orgasm. it's how most women have to get there. sex, like penetration, usually isn't enough to get a lot of us there."
"really?"
"yeah. that's why it's important for our partners to do something other than just regular sex."
"so... do you usually prefer fingers or... a tongue?"
"well... me personally, i usually prefer a tongue. i feel like it's just more intimate."
"and what do you do with the tongue?"
"same thing you would with fingers. circles, back and forth, up and down-"
you were interrupted by a warm tongue on your clit, unable to hold in a gasp. he was going in circles like you said to do, and it was like he knew what to do immediately.
it felt good. you looked down at him to see him returning the gaze, a smirk creeping across his face.
"good, just like that, stiles."
you were doing your darndest to keep your hips still, ensuring he did everything right his first time. he placed his hands atop your thighs, making sure they stayed spread.
you reached up and pushed your hair out of your face, fisting a ball of your own hair. you were moaning, which he wasn't expecting to hear the first time he did this.
"you're doing good, stiles. that feels good."
he didn't answer, but his ego grew a few sizes at that. the closer you got to your orgasm, the more he had to hold you still. his arms were now wrapped around your thighs, his hands flat against your belly.
"fuck, okay, i can feel it coming," you said, looking down at him. "keep going, i'm gonna cum."
when you did look at him, it looked like he was experienced in this. his positioning, his hands, his pace, everything screamed 'i've done this a thousand times before'.
he liked this. being able to make you melt with just his tongue was making him hard, but he couldn't help it. your sweet voice moaning his name was like music to his ears, and the closer you got the louder you became.
your fingers tangled in his hair, trying not to pull too hard.
"don't stop, stiles. i'm almost there. i'll tell you when to stop."
he obeyed, not changing a single thing he was doing. if it hadn't have been so obvious, he might not have known you were cumming.
your back arched sharply, you took in a loud gasp, and your legs were trembling.
this was an incredible orgasm. you were perplexed by his skill, as ten minutes ago he had never even laid eyes on a vagina, much less eaten one out. but he was a quick learner, as you'd figured out from all the werewolf stuff.
"alright, stop, stop," you choked out. he immediately pulled away, using his shirt to wipe his mouth. you closed your legs and reveled in your high. your hand covered your eyes and you struggled to catch your breath.
"was that okay?" he asked innocently.
"are you kidding?" a moment later, you propped yourself up on your elbows. "how did you know how to do that?"
he shrugged. "i just did what you described."
"i've had more than one guy go down on me who was experienced and couldn't make me cum at all. that was, what, two minutes?"
"i guess i'm a natural," he joked.
you tilted your head to the side. "c'mere." you spread your legs again and his eyes widened, slowly following your directions. he held himself above you and you pulled him down to kiss you.
your hand trailed down his chest and landed on his belt, the clanking of the buckle making him pull away.
"what're you doing?" he whispered, looking at your half-closed eyes.
"well... i can see you're rock hard. i just figured, if you're losing your oral virginity, you might as well lose the regular one too."
he gulped hard, not moving.
"oh."
you stopped messing with his belt, furrowing your brow.
"unless you don't want to. you don't have to. don't feel like i'm pressuring you."
he shook his head.
"i don't. it's just... i didn't expect this. i wasn't planning on doing that when i came over, and i definitely didn't expect this. i didn't bring a condom or anything."
"i have some." you reached down and cupped his bulge in your hand, which made him falter a bit. "they might be a bit snug, but they'll fit."
he nodded, and you continued unbuckling his belt. when you got his pants shimmied down a bit and he was exposed to you, you noticed how red his cheeks were.
"what's wrong?"
"nothing. just... i don't want to disappoint you."
"stiles, it's your first time. i'm not expecting you to last past the first thrust." you can tell he took that as an insult. "i didn't mean it like that. no guy lasts past the first thrust during their first time. vaginas are different than hands or socks. i want you to feel comfortable with this. i promise i'm not judging you."
he nodded. "okay."
"if you don't want to have sex yet i could always just blow you instead. you might last longer that way."
"no, i want to do this."
"okay."
you reached over and grabbed a condom out of your nightstand drawer and opened it for him.
"want me to put it on for you?" you asked, to which you received a nod.
the feeling of your hand stroking down on him could've made him cum right then and there. but he wanted to wait until he was at least inside of you.
the feeling of his tip pressing into you was magical for both of you, and once he was fully nestled into you, he pressed a deep kiss onto your mouth.
he didn't move for a moment, wanting this to last as long as possible.
he was a nice size, not small by any means but not the biggest you'd had. he was perfect.
"you okay?" you whispered, pushing his hair off his forehead.
he nodded, the redness in his cheeks spreading to his chest. he slowly pulled out, and let out a loud, shaky moan with the next thrust. him laying his forehead against your chest let you know that he had cum, his arms trembling a bit.
when he looked at you again, he chuckled.
"what?" you asked.
"lasted past the first thrust." you both laughed at that, and you kissed him again. "next time it'll be better."
"next time?" he nodded. "when will that be?"
he thought for a second. "give me a couple of hours."
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Scott: How long do you think it will be until Stiles finally snaps and commits murder? Derek: I've been going through life assuming it's already happened at some point, and it's just that no one was ever able to trace it back to him.
(source)
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sevenratz · 5 months ago
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people in the mountains.
mountain people.
that's your plan?
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stilinskibaby · 11 months ago
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dylan obrien, the man that you are
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ruewrote · 9 months ago
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𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡.
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PAIRING: stiles stilinski x fem!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: teenage dream by katy perry WORD COUNT: 1.2k
navigation | ask | stiles stilinski masterlist
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it wasn't out of the blue for you and stiles to have a sleepover on fridays, actually it was a sort of unspoken rule between the two of you.
it first started when you said that you had never watched star wars before, which led to the both of you sitting on your couch with a big bowl of popcorn in between.
him explaining the little parts you'd get confused about or him just ranting about his favourite scenes. after that it was a back and forth of showing each other your favourite unseen movies.
when finishing said movie the following days you'd receive multiple memes from him about the specific films, it had become a recurring pattern that you'd come to love. it almost felt weird if he didn't.
tonight it was your turn to introduce him to the to all the boys i loved before trilogy since you'd been obsessed with the movies since they first came out.
he was on the fence about watching them since he wasn't a huge fan of romcoms, you somehow convinced him by saying "it's practice for watching them with your future girlfriend!" internally wincing at that.
every friday you felt more anxious before stiles showed, trying to fluff up your pillows and straighten out your blankets. wanting to make everything perfect.
you had a huge crush on stiles, how could you not after spending so much time together, learning all of his little quirks, his likes and his dislikes, the only thing you weren't sure about was the way he felt about you.
it was the one thing you wanted to know the most about him. did he think about you the same ways you thought about him? did he like the way cuddled when you'd watch these movies and shows with him?
you couldn't tell him though, what if he didn't feel the same way you did and it completely ruins the good friendship you have right now?
what would it take for you to finally tell him?
ding dong!
the doorbell ringing a couple times had you jogging down the stairs, opening the door with a warm smile to see hyper stiles.
"i'm so ready to get my movie night on! i had a math test today and let me tell you it sucked," he whines as he dramatically wraps his arms around your waist as he fake cries into your shoulder.
"well if it helps i have enough microwaveable popcorn to keep us going through the apocalypse soo you coming upstairs or what?"
with that said he zips past you up your stairs, falling up them in the process, making you giggle at his eagerness as you follow close behind him.
watching stiles practically swan dive onto your bed and aggressively sniff your pillow has you side eyeing him, "why is your bed so much comfier and smells so much nicer than mine? it's so not fair."
"it's a little thing called fabric softener and if you continuously jump into your bed the way you do mine, then i guess you've got your answer you dufus," you laugh at him burrowing himself deep under your duvet.
"plus i've slept in your bed it's plenty comfy, the key is lots of pillows and fluffy blankets." he hums as you settle yourself beside him before pressing play on the movie.
it was like ten minutes into the film when you could feel him slightly shuffle closer to you, keeping your eyes on the screen pretending it didn't happen. just patiently waiting until he felt comfortable enough to say something.
"can...can we cuddle?" you wordlessly lifted your arm, letting him slip himself under, his head on your chest, the rest of his body lightly pressed to your side.
it was like second nature to you two, whether either one of you had a bad week you'd take turns holding each other. you helped install healthy mannerisms that proved that it was okay for a man to be held because they deserve it too and that it was okay for guys to cry no matter who they're with.
so yes , when he had a rough day he'd often walk up to you and bury his face into your neck, his arms firmly wrapped around you as you cupped the back of his head and rubbed soft circles on his back just letting him know that you were there for him.
with everything he had gone through he deserved all the comfort he could get and if the source was you then so be it.
you would be lying if you said that your heart didn't speed up at the closeness and how his touch on your skin left goosebumps.
trying to be as casual as possible, you raise the hand that was currently wrapped around his shoulders to gently stroke his hair, feeling him physically melt into you calmed your nerves.
feeling your eyelids slowly droop, your hand movements become slower so your palm now laid on the back of his neck, fighting sleep felt so difficult when he was beside you. his presence was so peaceful, comforting even without him saying anything.
the early start of your day hitting even harder now. He won't mind if you rested your eyes for a little bit, right?
stiles noticed the similarities between the two characters to the both of you, but there's no way that you deliberately put this on as a sign? was he reading too deep into it?
when he went to question you about it, lifting his head he was met with you sleeping peacefully. his gaze softened at the sight, gently tucking the piece of hair that fell in front of your face.
"you are so goddamn beautiful and don't even know it, even when you sleep? like can you save some beauty for the rest of us?" he chuckles at his own joke.
"i don't know how long i can keep pretending that i'm not totally in love with you...there really isn't anything that i wouldn't do for you." he whispers and he studies your features.
"it's honestly crazy how i feel your absence in everything that i do when i'm alone, in every place i go without you." he sighs, going to go back to watching the tv.
"you really mean all of that?" you whisper, making him jump back.
"uh- i-i do, but i thought you were asleep?"
"no i was just resting my eyes, but i'm sorta glad that you thought i was for you to finally confess your feelings for me." you smirk at him.
his mouth opens and closes, utterly bewildered at what you just said, "what do you mean finally?"
"You realise that i like you too, right? that i have for the longest time?" stiles eyes now wide, looking even more lost than before.
"you like me? like like me like me?"
sitting up, grasping the back of his neck, "what are you..." pulling him closer, your lips brushing against his. it takes him a second to register the kiss before melting into it. leaning closer to deepen the kiss. his hands brushing over your hips as he laid you down, now hovering over you. your hand running through his hair, tugging at the roots.
you're both now smiling as you share a few more pecks before pulling away. "so you do like me!" he grins, "oh my god. dude yes!"
"ya know if you're gonna be my girlfriend, you're gonna have to calling me dude."
"would you prefer shnookums?"
"that's it!" he pulled away just enough to tickle you.
from that night forth you and stiles had become inseparable, practically connected at the hip. but you wouldn't want it any other way.
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comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡
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© ruewrote 2024.
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mysticallystilinski · 1 year ago
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stiles being head over heels for reader and reader is scotts sister so she’s off limits but stiles can’t contain himself
can be smut or fluff whatever you’d like !! 🤭🤭
I’M TOO HIGH FOR THIS [ stiles x fem!reader ]
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desc. MIXING WEED WITH EMOTIONS IS THE BEST SOLUTION FOR YOU AND STILES
has : substance use (weed), very in character stiles, hidden relationship, underage? smoking (under 21), heavy making out, undertones of sexual intercourse.
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the rain was heavy and so were your eyes. it’s been 28 hours since you’ve last heard from stiles. your face was a pure mix of puffy eyes, from sadness and not to mention smoking.
a few minutes ago, you had gotten a text from your brother, scott. he had mentioned that stiles would be on his way to your house, and to keep the doors unlocked because he had forgotten his key. it will be any minute now that he comes barging through the door, and pinning you against the wall. at least, that’s what you would hope would happen.
being lost in your own trance of thoughts helped guide you from hearing the knock of your front door. the knocks kept repeating until your gaze turned away from the phone in your hand to the large door. you slowly moved up and off the couch, and slight pattered to the door. you couldn’t tell if the knocking was in your head, or really happening until the door slammed open.
you fell with someone’s body laid upon you. you started to giggle as he fell off of you. your head was in the clouds as you picked yourself up only to see stiles sprawled out on the floor. you could not stop giggling as he held out his hand for you to help him up. as soon as you gave him your hand, he pulled you back down on top of him.
stiles made you smile deeply as his arms wrapped around your body. he gave you a quick kiss, and then pushed you lightly off of him. your butt hit the floor as you started to laugh once again. “are you high?”, stiles questioned jokingly. “would that be a bad thing?”, you snickered. “oh god you are high.”, he laughed.
“do you have anymore weed?”, he asked. your face went from a giggly expression, to straight serious. “stiles stilinski, getting high for the first time?”, you questioned. “i mean, maybe, i just, i really wanna know how it is”, he stuttered. you smiled, “okay then, i have a cart for your first time. a joint or a blunt would get you too high”, you spoke.
you pushed yourself up off the ground, and lazily walked to your room. your hand grabbed the knob of the desk, and pulled it open. hidden in a bag was a few joints, and your cart with a battery. you pulled out the cart and headed back to the front door where stiles was still sitting.
“come on, get up stilinski”, you laughed. he got up off the floor, and took your free hand. you guys headed to the couch, and stiles immediately grabbed the remote for the tv. you gave him a smirk, “what? you just wanna watch star wars while high?” he squeezed your hand while they were still interlinked. he used the remote to put on hulu, and headed to the star wars section.
you twisted the cartridge onto the battery and clicked it 5 times to turn it on. you handed it straight to stiles as he was focused on the tv. you were nervous how stiles would react, but was also excited to see how he would act. “how do i even do this?”, he laughed. you grabbed it back from him and held it up to your mouth. you placed the cart between your lips, held the button and sucked in for about 7 seconds.
you did a quick ghost, and stiles looked very impressed. “okay, now your turn”, you said while handing it back over to him. the effects of your high were heightened as it hit you. you looked over at stiles and saw him hitting it, once he blew it out he started to cough. he hit it for a pretty long time, longer than any person would on their first time.
you already knew that stiles would be blasted, but you didn’t know to what extent. his coughing lasted about 30 seconds, but then wore off. your mind started to head in different places as you stared into the tv. soon, you felt yourself being shook by stiles, he had been calling your name as you zoned out. “y/n, i think it’s hitting”, he said calmly. his eyes were low, and seemed to be red in the low light.
“it feels like.. space”, he spoke. you guys both laughed in sync. stiles had felt like the world was spinning, just a bit. you were in some kind of trance as stiles was staring into the star wars universe on tv. you scooted closer to him as his eyes were placed on the tv. your hand slowly felt on his thighs, running up and down. he slowly turned his head to look at you, and started to nervously laugh. you went up to his ear, and whispered, “maybe we should play some music.”
your head was pulled away and he nodded. you grabbed the remote and changed the tv to spotify. your high playlist was on the recommended, so you placed that on right away. the first song to play was ‘She by Tyler, The Creator’. stiles gaze was placed upon the tv still, but you wanted to distract him. you grabbed his face for him to look at you. he smiled while seeing your sly smirk.
“sti, i want to do something”, you said while starting to feel some type of way. your body started to feel on fire as he nodded. he placed your body down onto the longer part of the couch. he then placed his body on top of yours, all while you leaned in to kiss him. the kiss was powerful, making you both feel even more horny that you have been. his dick got hard quickly as you grinded into the kiss. his tongue battled for dominance with yours, and he quickly overpowered you.
while feeling this way, it felt like you guys were in a dream. you could never have imagined making out with stiles stilinski while being high. after all, you were scotts younger sister, and he was stiles stilinski. tingles went all throughout your body as stiles hands found his way to your ass. ever since you guys took those dab hits, you were on each-other more than ever.
he slightly squeezed your ass and you whimpered into the kiss. you ran your hands up and down his back, making large scratch marks. he felt your nails dig into him which caused a load groan to emerge from his soul. he had been waiting for the chance to get you alone after his non-stop hanging out sessions with scott. you broke away from the kiss for a second, “sti, please take my shirt off.”
he got off you for a quick second, and grabbed the hem of your shirt. he lifted it off of you, which exposed your light pink bra. “can i?”, you motioned nodding to his shirt. “of course baby”, he smirked. stiles placed your hands on the hem of it and guided them to take the shirt off. his bare skin being exposed left you feeling in heaven. his abs we’re slightly creasing at the center, and his body was perfect.
you layed back down upon the couch. grabbing him by his shoulders, you pulled him down for skin-to-skin contact. your legs were now wrapped around his waist so that you could feel his boner poking through his pants. stiles looked at you for a moment, staring into your eyes, then smashed his lips on yours.
his lips detached from yours, and headed to your exposed neck. stiles fluttered light kisses all around your collarbone, and chest. he started to suck at the most delicate places, placing small love bites. he looked up at you through his long lashes and smirked at your expression. your face was in a state of bliss at the feeling. his body, to your body felt amazing. the high heightened all emotions by ten percent.
at once, the door slammed open. “stiles, y/n, i’m home!”, yelled scott. in an instant, you grabbed your shirt to cover yourself. “what the hell is going on in here?”, scott growled. stiles looked at you, you saw from the corner of your eye. you made quick eye contact with stiles, but then looked at scott. “and why the fuck does it smell like weed?”. you looked back and stiles, and smirked.
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luckypunklemonade · 1 month ago
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Temptation Greets You
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| Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back. Stiles comes across a small dosage of pollen out in the woods.
[smut MDNI 18+; sex pollen; 3k words] Stiles Stilinski
This work belongs to me, luckypunklemonade (Minte_Condition on AO3). I do not give anyone permission to distribute or share my work without consent.
He was so fucking stupid. “You guys are so fucking stupid.”
Going out into the Beacon Hills Wildlife Preserve was a regular occurrence for Stiles, but you always expected them to be at least a little bit careful. You’d have thought that he’d turn back and plan for more research when Stiles stumbled upon a freshly abandoned coven ritual ground with suspicions of black magic. No, he needed to poke around and take notes without checking their surroundings or prioritizing their own safety. Stiles picked up a mortar and pestle, underestimating the powdery substance left inside, and brought it up to look closer. The wind picked up the powder, blowing it into Stiles’s face. After the initial panic, he called to tell you. The threat of a powdered drug was skeptical as the powder was a deep blue. You rambled off a thousand excuses or hopes of what it could be. Less harmful things like spirulina or a kind of dried starch, something weird but harmless that witches use. Stiles had only inhaled a small amount, but you knew that amount of a particular drug could kill in minutes. You didn’t want to risk it.
Your car was haphazardly parked halfway off of the trail. Your coat was halfway on as you rushed over the uneven ground, imagining the grief tonight would be with a broken or sprained ankle. Stiles was sitting on a tree stump, elbows resting on his knees. You step closer to get a good look at Stiles. It had been 20 minutes. That’s how long it took for you to get to the wildlife reserve in your car. He looked fine. A little tired, but he rolled his eyes as you rotated his head in your hands. “I’m okay. I feel fine. You were probably right.”
“We have to get you to a hospital. It could be-“
“It was probably that stuff you said.”
“Spirulina.”
“Yeah, witches use stuff like that all the time.”
You tried to get a better look into his eyes, but he pulled away from your touch. You thought his pupils looked blown. You fussed over him to get him up and walking. “We’re going to the hospital.”
“No-“
You grabbed his keys from his pocket before he could finish and herded him out of the woods toward the trail. Stiles went silent, walking in front of you awkwardly. He really did look fine. 
He only started having trouble breathing when you were on the trail back to the main road. You cursed and sped up, headed to the hospital, grabbing your phone to call Melissa when his hand grabbed your wrist.
“Pull over.” 
“We’re going to the hospital, it’s—“
“Pull over.”
“No, you could be-“
“It’s not a drug, not like that. I knew it wasn’t- I shouldn’t have let you- I didn’t think it was enough.”
“Stiles, if it wasn’t a drug, what the hell was it?”
“Please just pull over.”
“It’s not fatal? Will it hurt you?”
“Please.”
The crack in his voice and the way he pushed his head against the headrest and squeezed his eyes closed shifted your attitude from panicked to empathetic. You pulled the jeep off the trail and parked it, still buzzing with anxiety as his breath came out almost violently. He breathed like that in between fragments of his thoughts.
“I did some research about the coven.”
He kept his eyes closed, and his hand gripped the Jeep’s door handle tight.
“The blue powder wasn’t a drug. It- I couldn’t tell….”
He seemed beyond embarrassed; his ears were red. “It’s an aphrodisiac derived from a mix of herbs and flowers. Pollen. The members of the coven use it for various holistic purposes but mostly in rituals to gods of fertility or prosperity. They mix it with water to create a paste and-“ 
He winces, leaning forward and harshly thumping his head against the dash and resting it there. You reach forward out of pity. 
“Please don’t.” He takes a deep breath and continues, “They make markings, they…fuck, whatever. You need to- I should…” 
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He opens the Jeep door and stumbles out. You yell his name, but he turns around. “Just leave the woods for a few hours. Come back at dusk. I should be better.” 
“Stiles, if it’s an aphrodisiac, why is it hurting you?”
“This- God, it’s not- aphrodisiac is a simplification; if I don’t get some sort of…of release, it’s gonna keep hurting. It’s gonna get worse. I’m not gonna be in my right mind. I need you to just go home and come back in a few hours, okay?”
“I’m not gonna leave you out here, hurting in the cold woods for a few hours, Stiles.”
Stiles actually whimpers. It’s like the sound of you saying his name hurts. Or something else. 
“I won’t be able to think straight, just drive. I’ll be okay. Don’t call anyone. Don’t tell Scott or Isaac. I’ll figure it out. Just go.” The words are starting to seem taxing, hard even to say. He begins to walk into the trees. You think about how hard it’ll be to find him in the huge wildlife preserve. For a minute, you consider leaving him. He’s done the research; he’s been out in these woods alone before and gotten home okay, but he wasn’t under the influence of anything then.
You get out of the Jeep and walk around to the passenger side, where he had walked off the trail. As soon as he hears the door shut, he turns, the sight of you out of the vehicle making him throw his head back in frustration. He yells, and it stops you in your tracks. “Get back in the Jeep, just get back in the fucking Jeep!”
And he’s walking toward you. He’s almost scary, his voice a little unrecognizable in such a low register. You do; you get back in and yelp a little as he reaches the passenger door. He presses his palm to it, almost hitting the metal. He looks utterly desperate, upset, frustrated, scared, even. “Please, just…just stay inside. Just..”
Stiles leans his forehead against the door, shoulders heaving up and down. His pleas fade. Before they become silent, though, his tone shifts from “Please stay inside” to “Please help me.” He mutters softly, no longer even speaking to himself and, if you weren’t listening hard enough, to no one. “I need..” he says breathily, pathetically. 
He moves to lean against the front bumper, resting his forehead against the cold metal. You crank the window down just slightly and speak in a small voice, “Stiles?” 
He doesn’t move. He just keeps sucking in air and huffing it out. You’re worried now. It’s not what you thought. He looked like he couldn’t breathe, and his fists were clenched, his head buried in his arms on the cold hood of his Jeep. 
“It’s cold, Stiles. I can’t leave you, just…just get in, okay?”
“I can’t- not you.”
“What? Stiles, if you need help, we can figure it out. I’ll find a witch or something, just-“
“You can’t help me. The only thing…”
You remember his words. He needs some kind of release, aphrodisiac, understatement, et cetera. “Stiles. Let me help you figure this out. I understand. Please get back in the Jeep.” 
And then, you unlock the vehicle and pop the door open. It swings wide, and he looks up. He looks a little scared, a little worried. His eyebrows are knitted together painfully, his shoulders heaving up and down, hot breath leaving his airways visibly in the cold. Stiles shakes his head.
“I understand. Let me…let me help. I can-“
He’s slowly walking around the door, hands still in clenched fists and breath labored. “I can’t.”
“It’s okay, I can help. I know what you need, and I know it hurts. Just let me help you.”
“Not you…Not like this.”
“Come here.”
His eyes flutter, and he takes a few steps toward the car, toward you. Your hand touches his shoulder, and he whimpers. His hands moved quickly, grabbing the seat lever and pulling it back. The back of the seat fell, lying flat, catching your attention until you looked back at Stiles. He was hefting himself up into the Jeep toward you. You didn’t realize he was herding you into the back until you were sitting on the reclined back of the passenger seat. His arms, after reaching to shut the door, spanned wide. One hand was on the driver's seat headrest, the other bracing himself against the interior. It made him look bigger. He looked hesitant. “You don’t know what you’re doing…”
“It’s okay. I can…help. I can help.” Your hand reached up to bring his down from the headrest.
“I can’t…not to you.”
“Well, I’m not leaving you, and I want to help.”
His eyes scanned the Jeep, taking in the cramped space. His eyes seemed unfocused, the effects worsening. He didn’t speak as he pushed your shoulders down, cradling your head as you lowered. He planted his knees on the sides of the seat, hooked his arms around your thighs, and pulled you down by your hips. He looked desperately up at you, trying to convey an ask but failing and giving you the most pleading look you’d ever seen. You breathlessly nodded, and he dramatically dropped his head onto your chest in relief. His hands immediately gripped your hips, but they were restless and curious, and needy. He watched as his own hand relaxed and kneaded the denim-trapped skin of your hips as if he didn’t know what his perverted hands would do next. His other palm leveled, and his fingers parted, relaxed from fists, and moved slowly, experimentally up your ribcage under your shirt. The entire time, his face looked guilty—upset, even.
“I should’a brought you.” His voice is distracted, but he means it. “You’re so careful.” His eyes are glued to the way his hands line your curves, up and down, but his words are genuine. When his short-lived need to just touch you was gone, he closed his eyes in shame. He needed more. 
He presses himself against you, eyes hardening in intense and conflicted emotions, and his hands squeezing and grabbing at you mindlessly. It would be pathetic if he weren’t so completely driven. He still wasn’t saying much, kneeling between your legs as he bent them at the knees and pushed them up and out wide to make room for himself. Once he does, he’s pressed into you again. You think the warmth between you is only something you notice, but Stiles groans and rests his forehead back against your chest again, even if it takes some craning of his neck downward. His forehead was burning up, and the sheen of sweat, while thin, made him almost glow in the early-setting winter sun. You can feel him hardening in his jeans. It was impossible to ignore, especially when he started rocking against you.
His hands retreated from your hip, from the seat beneath you, holding him up, to unzip his jeans. His mind is foggy, you can tell because his hands shake and struggle between his zipper and yours, not knowing which to focus on first. You softly reach down and unzip his jeans. His hands pause, and you look up, making debilitating eye contact, and you think he might pass out. He’s sweating, shaking, silent. All things your Stiles isn’t usually—or at least not all at once. Of course, he’s never seen you like this, conversely. Underneath him and willing to let him, rather, wanting him to touch you. 
You jumped when he scrambled to get your jeans undone and yanked down—or up. Up your legs in your position. Everything about this made Stiles want to whine. You, how close you are, how long he’s wanted you, the position he’s got you in, what you’re gonna let him do, where you’re letting him do it. In his Jeep, out in the woods off a secluded trail. He wanted to speak, to make this perfect like he wanted. How he imagined when he was in his room mumbling your name and pumping his hand as if it was yours. But he was so damn impatient and it hurt and you were so willing. He spoke softly and barely intelligibly as he pulled his jeans and boxers down just enough and your underwear to the side, “M’gonna make it up to you, ‘kay? When I don’t need it so bad, I’ll make it good.”
You couldn’t respond before he’s got his tip pressed against you, and he’s pushing forward. It’s too late to stop him to ask for the mercy of preparation or caution and the sound you let out is proof. It’s an open-mouthed, guttural gasp as if he knocked the wind out of you. He stops once he can feel you completely envelop him, and he almost collapses on top of you. He felt a sense of relief, a scratch to the itch of the substance, but he could feel the discomfort of it saturating again. Two times worse now that the release was wrapped warmly around him. He was still, though. He stopped as soon as you made a noise of pain, even though his hips twitched. He looked up after telling himself that if you looked the least bit upset when your eyes found him, he’d stop even if it killed him.
But before he could find your pretty eyes, you clenched around him. It was an encouragement. More so torture when he was so sensitive. He moaned and resorted to broken rambles, some of which were not even audible. “Please-‘
You told him to move and he didn’t rock back as you had expected, only forward more, burying himself fully into you. His breath fanned across your ear as he was so close on top of you, the sound of his breathing laced with whines and moans as you satisfied the twinge in his stomach. Then, he set a slow pace. Somewhere, his need to be close intensified, and he looped his arm around your head, ushering your face softly into his shoulder as he pushed his hips into yours, trying not to focus on how quickly the release would come if he didn’t care about hurting you. Eventually, he couldn’t stop himself from speeding up, his other hand holding your hip down. The hand cradling your head held you tighter, more secure as if you’d break. You made small noises that punctuated his thrusts, each of them gripping his conscience as harder than he should be handling you. 
“I’m so sorry,” He choked out against your hair. “Feels so fucking good, I’m sorry.”
He was unsure of how much pain he was causing. All he could tell was you were taking away his pain. You just moaned into his shoulder as he sped up against his better judgment.
”I was so irresponsible, I was so stupid, I’m sorry-“ He moaned as he drove himself deeper. It matched the one you breathed out in response as well. 
He couldn’t be sure at first, but he thought he felt you press your lips against the fabric stretched across his shoulder. As he felt the vibration from your lips as you strained out another moan, he was certain. The small act being something he was too impatient and hazy to do, but something he wanted to give you made him squeeze his eyes shut, his climax on the horizon. Chasing harder, his words were almost cries, “Thank you.’
”For letting me do this- thank you.” He moved his head so he wasn’t facing away from you and began sucking messy kisses into your neck. They were somewhat controlled, but he needed to communicate his gratitude in a way that wouldn’t betray how unintelligible his thoughts were.
“I’ll be more careful. I’m so sorry, I’m- Thank you. Fuck-“ he’s cut off as you clench around him again. He doesn’t know why, but you do. The sounds of his whines sent you nearer and nearer to your ruin. In your ear, mixed with his moans and utterly desperate. Amplified by his need from the pollen.
His breathing stuttered in time with his hips, and his fingers tightened in your hair. He frantically pulled himself away from you, pulling out. The last rational decision he could make before tipping over the edge. When he came, his whole body tensed, and he let out a breathy whine. He breathed heavily and desperately in your ear, whining out, “Thank you.” Due to the amount of the pollen he’d consumed, he felt satisfied. Relieved. It felt as if he’d been waiting weeks for it. His arm gave out, and he laid himself on top of your chest.
“Thank you,” He pressed a long kiss to your collarbone, lazily letting his head fall down. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve-“
He’s too tired. Presumably crashing hard from the powder. Your hand comes up to his hair, gently running your nails over the shorter hair at the nape of his neck. “Mh- Stiles, look up at me.” 
Your focus was his eyes, but it was too dark to see. He sits up at your command and pulls his jeans up quickly, turning to help you. He pushes your hands away, tugging your pants up and buttoning them back, his hands gentle. 
He’s crying. You hop down from the jeep. The sun had set, and the temperature quickly dropped. You awkwardly get out, turning back with your phone flashlight to check on him, and he’s silently crying. You gently tilt his head toward you, focused on his health first. Once you’ve made sure his eyes look fine, you hold his head to look at you without the light. “Hey.” 
He looks down, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”
“But I did, as soon as I-“
“Well, it happened, okay? How do you feel?” Your hands brush tears away from his eyes.
He describes how he feels, coming down from the sort of ‘high.’ His eyes fill with new tears but you lean forward to his confused surprise and kiss him, assuring him with a new, soft tone of voice. “I’m glad it happened.”
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silentmacabre · 6 months ago
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I am a sucker for this man wielding a weapon (and this man only)
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