#STILES IMAGINE

[strangerstilinski]

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐭. 1 — 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐞

minors/ageless blogs please DNI.

REBLOGS are important. please reblog to share.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got it. You can do it. C'mon-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝐒 𝐜 𝐨 𝐭 𝐭 𝐲 𝐃 𝐨 𝐞 𝐬 𝐧 ' 𝐭 𝐊 𝐧 𝐨 𝐰 .

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

again, REBLOGS are important.

please have the curtesy to reblog to share/save your ur fave fics.

[star-girl-05]

Were Dating?

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

His signature blue jeep pulled into your driveway at exactly eight. Surprisingly the brunette was on time for once. As soon as he parks he’s jumping out of the jeep, giving you his dorky smile before opening the passenger side door for you. You just chuckle at his actions. 

You and Stiles have been friends for years though it was only lately that he's been acting somewhat differently. He’s been sweeter to you, more thoughtful, you contribute it to the fact the two of you have been spending more alone time together. Tonight the two of you are going to see a new horror movie that you’ve been dying to see. 

You and Stiles just buttered your popcorn when you bump into Scott and allison. Coincidentally they are going to see the same movie, so you decided to join each other. ‘A double date’ in Stiles' own words. The night went amazing, after the movie the four of you decided to get food. At the end of the night Stiles drives you back to your house. Even going as far as walking you to the door. Just as you're about to say goodnight he kisses you. You freeze when his lips meet yours, completely stunned by the boy's bold move. 

“Uh.. What was that?” You weren't against Stiles kissing you but you wanted to know why he's kissing you out of the blue. 

Stiles tilted his head a blush still coating his cheeks, “It’s a goodnight kiss, can’t I kiss my girlfriend” Now you're really confused. 

“I’m your girlfriend?” 

“Of course you're my girlfriend”, he chuckled thinking you were teasing him. It's only when you ask since when with a completely straight face does he realize you're being serious. “A week in a half, I asked you out two tuesdays ago.”

It took a few seconds to place the day.

It was an average day, Stiles was driving you home like he does everyday. Only this time when you pulled up to your house he stops you. “Hey before you go I wanted to ask you something” He was oddly nervous but you didn't think anything about it, giving him a nod of encouragement. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang-out, like just the two of us.” Why he’s so nervous to ask you to hang out you don’t know but you answer right away. 

“Of course, I don’t know why you were so nervous to ask. I could never say no to you.” A huge smile blooms on Stiles face, his dimples fully on show. 

“Thank goodness, I was so nervous that you would say no” you laugh at his reaction, why on earth would you ever say no. 

Now looking back on it’s so obvious that he was asking you on a date. In your defense he never used the word date or the word girlfriend. So it wasn’t totally your fault for not connecting the dots. 

“I didn’t realize you were asking me out” your voice is soft 

“Oh” an awkward silence covers the two of you as both stare at each other. He had no idea how to respond, this whole time he thought you were his girlfriend, but you thought the two of you were only friends. He had no idea how you thought the two of you were friends. He wasn't hiding his affection for you. The two of you would hold hands, and cuddle yet you thought you were friends. He felt like an idiot, he just kissed you when you saw him as just a friend. “Well then goodnight I guess sorry I kissed you let's just forget about it” he tried to laugh off his discomfort, this is not how he thought tonight was going to go. This morning he was dating his longtime crush and now he’s finding out it was all a lie. He just wanted to run away and die of embarrassment. 

Before he could leave you grab his arm pulling him back to you and placing a kiss on his lips. His mind short-circuited, he’s on a rollercoaster. One second he's dating you then you're rejecting him and now you're kissing him. 

“Stiles, do you want to be my Boyfriend?” 

“Yeah I would love too” his smiles huge 

“That's how you ask someone out” you giggle out

“Well when someone takes you on dates and holds your hands that means your dating” the both of you laugh kissing each other once more.

[elilovesredacted]

I love the HC that Stiles is absolutely obsessed with you. Like, this man is head over heels in love and everyone around him thinks it’s hilarious.

You walk through the school, chatting away to Lydia and Issac.

Stiles was supposed to be listening to Scott, but his eyes are trained on your smile, your eyes, your hands, everything.

“dude, hello?” -Scott

“Huh, what? yeah, yeah i’m uh.. i’m listening.” -Stiles ‘heart eyes’ Stilinski

[little-miss-alone-n-in-love]

Ok but inexperienced girlfriend with stiles

Inexperienced girlfriend who just wants to please him

Stiles who can’t tell if being the only person to ever see her like this (under him, on top of him, kneeling in front of him) is what turns him on or if he’s just that drunk on her

Inexperienced girlfriend who squirms and huffs and curls her fingers into his shirt, his back, his wrinkled bedsheets with every touch and stiles can’t tell if she’s just super responsive or if it’s because everything is so new and foreign to her

YES. He's hooked on the power this dynamic gives him, he loves that someone needs him so much and listens to him. The attention drives him wild.

Since all of these intense feelings are so new to her, her reactions to every move he makes is fascinating to him, and he can't help but let his ego inflate a little bit. He didn't realize that just his hands alone could influence someone so greatly...

Her lips that instinctively part when his thumb brushes across her cheek, inviting him to sneak it inside the warm opening.

Her head that tilts when his mouth moves against her neck.

Her diaphragm that expands and shrinks at an increasing pace as he places kisses down her body, nearly taking her breath away.

Her nails that scratch his scalp while his tongue laps at her cunt.

Her toes curl as he brings her to the edge.

And of course, the mind-swirling sounds that escape her without her consent, making her face flush and his dick harden even more.

Stiles often takes a moment to watch her, every inch of her deliciously responsive body, so he can remember these activities better later. And when he does think back to them, he has a hard time processing the fact that it all happened. Well, until he invites her over again...

[harrywavycurly]

Because I’ve seen him on your page lately how would Stiles text you when he can’t find you at a house party?😍🩷

Hiii babes!! This made me laugh writing it so I hope you enjoy it! I haven’t written anything like this for Stiles before so be gentle 😂💖

[kowbelll]

Mollified

Word count: 799

Note: The beginning of this is kind of sad, so I apologize, but I did my best to make the ending fluffy because that's what everyone decided on (in this poll). I can't tell if this sucks... I tried though, so oh well.

Feeling his body tremble from his soft sobs was devastating. Every tear that fell was another crack in her broken heart. She wished she knew what to do or say to make it all better for her sweet Stiles. 

It had been a long, grueling week, particularly for him. Between attending school, playing lacrosse, battling the supernatural, being a good, and supporting his girlfriend, he couldn’t find the time to process emotions, and resorted to shoving them downward instead. This was a horrible habit he knew he had, but Stiles didn’t try to break it because he didn’t know how to address it. There was always something more important he had to do. 

So, he was back where he was every few weeks, laying stomach-down on his girlfriend’s bed with his face buried into lap as he finally let himself feel. Exhaustion, frustration, disappointment, sadness, and hopelessness poured out of his soul, nearly drowning him.  

She did everything she could to soothe his tense muscles and labored breathing – combing her fingers through his already disheveled hair, rubbing his back and shoulder blades, and whispering the insufficient words of comfort that came to mind – but this was out of both of their control. Although, he did feel a sense of safety with his face pressed against her thighs, as if it was a shelter for his tears.  

All he could do was ride out the episode, a necessary evil to reset himself and empty that jar in the dark corner of his heart that was reserved for emotions he didn’t want or couldn’t be bothered with. Unfortunately, this ride was not on a clear path, but rather one with ups and downs, and bumps and twists. Some points were much more intense and painful, while others were softer and sadder. Time was unidentifiable.  

Eventually, his torment faded away and his usually light gradually began to fill him again. She gave him the time he needed to completely calm down and regain his strength, so Stiles stayed where he was while his breathing evened out and his heartbeat returned to a normal pace. He was grateful that her soft gestures continued on. It was truly astonishing that she never ceased, showing her patience and dedication to him with every movement.  

Suddenly, he lifted his head up to look into her eyes with his swollen red ones. “Do you want to go get some ice cream?” 

Of all things, she was not expecting this. She stared back at him with confusion, questioning his sanity yet again. “What? Right now?” she managed to say. 

“Yeah,” he responded simply, sniffling. 

“Um... I mean, yeah, we can, but are you ok?” She was clearly still concerned; who wouldn’t be after everything she just witnessed seconds ago? 

He sniffled again before speaking again. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Let’s go get some ice cream.” A little smile began growing on his lips, causing the same to happen to his girlfriend. 

“Alright, but Stiles-” 

“I’ll be absolutely perfect as soon as you let me buy us some ice cream, ok?” he insisted as he sat up right in front of her. 

“Wait, no, you can’t pay.” 

“And why’s that?”  

“Because I’m taking care of you tonight.” She scowled just slightly at his smirk. 

“No, you already did take care of me,” he persisted, leaning in kiss her lips gently. “It’s my turn now, and I want ice cream.” 

She was flustered, very flustered, but couldn’t say no to him, especially after his kiss. So, she reluctantly gave in. “Fine. But are you sure you’re ok? Do you need to talk about anything?” 

Stiles was already getting up and putting his hand out for her to take, helping her up. “Maybe on the way we can chat a little, but seriously, I’m good. All thanks to you.” 

Smiling, he pulled her closer by her waist. It wasn’t fair that he knew exactly how to make her melt. He had complete control over her in a hypnotizing way, and she loved it. She couldn’t explain it with words, but she was addicted to his, well, everything. 

After a lovely drive and a bit of chatting, Stiles bought them they’re favorite ice cream, as promised, and they enjoyed it between more kisses while sitting in the Jeep. As much as he loved treats, she was his favorite treat of all. 

“You’re delicious, you know that?” 

“Shut up, you weirdo.” 

“I can see you blushing. It might be dark outside, but I can still see it. Don’t be ashamed of how delicious you are.” 

“Stiles, I will throw your cone out of this window right now if you don’t shut the hell up.” 

“Ha! I’d like to see you try.” 

And just like that, Stiles was back to his normal, whacky self. 

[semicolonsspace]

Thinking about Needy! Stiles and how he wants to be with you all the time. Even when you're bathing... You're in your bathtub relaxing in the warmth of the water. You're lights bathroom lights are off so you can sensory unplug yourself. He would be in there as well being the control of the music until he gives up on being quiet and starts asking you questions.

You had your time to unplug so you take it as a good time to start doing self-care. He turns the lights on as you begin shaving and he just watches you with heart-eyes. He eventually asks you to let him do it while you relax. You grant him access to the razor, you just relax now as he shaves your prickly legs; He moves your legs every now and then to get better access.

Stiles' breathing was extremely heavy as he did all of this. Eventually, you just tell him to strip and join. He smirks and obeys without a word, literally jumping into the bath and cuddling you into the water. From him jumping you could hear the water splash onto the tiled floor and you just playful groan and smack his shoulder.

[dylobilysmomg]

Winter Nights (Blurb)

𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: <𝟭𝗸

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗼𝗻𝗲

𝗢𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁: 𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗯𝘆 @𝗔𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗶𝗔𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗧𝘂𝗯𝗲

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗛𝗼𝘄𝗱𝘆 𝘆’𝗮𝗹𝗹, 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗯 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗮 𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗜 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗯𝘆 @amorchai 𝘀𝗼 𝗴𝗼 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗼𝘂𝘁! 𝗔𝗹𝘀𝗼, 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝗳 𝘆’𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗟𝗣 𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗜 𝗱𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗹, 𝗜 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝗔𝗞𝗔 𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗖 𝗜 𝗪𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗘 𝗜𝗧) 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!

𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙞𝙛! 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙚𝙧!

So here you two are, sitting in the back of Roscoe, bundled up in your warm clothes and the blankets Stiles has brought. There’s a shitty excuse for a charcuterie board between you two. Really, it’s just some cheap plastic container you bought with crackers and meat and cheese slices. You both sit criss cross against the walls of the jeep, facing each other.

“It’s chilly in here.” You say amidst conversation, and Stiles makes a face, to which you laugh in response, “What? What is it?”

“You’re wearing sweatpants, your jacket, my hoodie, and you’ve got not one but two blankets. How could you be cold?” He laughs, reaching for some crackers. “Just am, maybe you should warm me up.” You say jokingly, and he laughs with his mouth full of cracker crumbs. He finishes chewing the food before speaking, “Thought I did!” He says, referring to the time you spent on his dick in the front seat no more than an hour ago.

“And I hate to break it to ya, but I’m not turning Roscoe on. Don’t wanna waste the gas.” He says, pushing the food aside to scoot closer to you.

“I guess I’ll just freeze.” You sigh, and Stiles is close enough now that your knees touch. “No you won’t, I won’t allow it.” He says, hands coming up to cup you face and bring your lips to his. One kiss. Two. It’s the third you pull away.

“Stiles,” You whine, “I don’t have any chapstick on.” You say, feeling your chapped lips, embarrassed. He scoffs, “I don’t care! I was kissing these same lips an hour ago and you weren’t complaining.” He laughs, but you shoo him off, moving to grab some cheese and crackers.

He sighs, leaning back to his side of the jeep, picking up some crackers and salami. “I don’t know why you even bought the salami and pepperoni if you don’t even like it.” He says, popping the cracker in his mouth.

“Yeah but you do, sharing is caring, Sti.” You say, moving to wrap the blanket a little tighter around yourself.

You’re about to say something else to carry conversation when Stiles’s phone buzzes from the front seat. At first he ignores it, and you start to talk about My Little Pony. But his phone continues to buzz and buzz and you can tell Stiles is no longer listening to you ramble about the sad ending you were so excited to tell him about. He’s biting his lips, peeling skin and without a doubt drawing blood.

“Stiles.” You say, and his eyes blink a few times, “Hmm?” “You’re not listening to me.” You say, not in an accusatory tone but just matter-of-fact-ly. He continues to bite at his bottom lip, “Sorry, babe. I just hope it’s not important.” He says, and you just give him a smile.

“I’m sure if it was important, there’d be a call.” You say, and he decides for the time being to agree with you and try to enjoy this date. So you go back to telling him about how Rainbow Dash and Applejack get together and Pinkie has a baby and—he’s not listening. He’s ripping up his lip and his mind is a million miles away.

“Stiles, babe, you gotta stop biting your lips.” You say, forgetting about the ponies all together. “Huh? Why?” He says, your comment pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Because, then you’ll taste like blood when I kiss you.” You complain, and he smiles, and suddenly he’s back. Whatever thought he had completely gone, and all he can think about is how fucking cute you are and how cute that comment was.

He leans closer you you, hands on your knees to kiss you. You smile into his lips, and he hums.

“Okay so tell me about your ponies.”

!!𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙐𝙎!!

“No fucking way.”

“Yes way! And they live together and Apple Jack wears her grandma’s little shawl thing after she dies.” You say. And while Stiles doesn’t understand a thing of what you’re talking about, he still listens because he loves nothing more than the little sparkle in your eyes when you’re so giddy to tell him all about it.

“I knew they had a thing for each other from the beginning.” He says, and you laugh and nod your head.

“Me too! And not to get super dark or anything, but what they don’t tell you, and for obvious reason, is that Twilight is an alicorn right? So guess what? She’s gonna live longer than all of them, so the sad truth is that she’ll out-live all her friends.”

“No!” Stiles is dumbfounded.

“Yes!”

𝟐/𝟏𝟐/𝟐𝟒

[somestardeww]

something with stiles x fem!reader ;D

¹reader is punk alternative and is a bit provocative too, but in a confident way. ²contains inaccurate descriptions of college dorms, smut under the cut :)

side note: this was supposed to be something short, maybe a pwp lmaooo

Stiles was never a guy with a lot of free time, as he spent half of his time dealing with the supernatural and the other half was divided between his dream college and taking care of his father, who, even though he was much older than him, left your food automatically, without worrying too much about your health.

So moving into college housing freshman year at the age of 18 was a… frighteningly interesting experience. He feared for his father, even though Scott had assured him he would keep an eye on him. He had also forced his friends to talk to him if something supernatural happened in Beacon Hills (he knew that his friends would try to solve everything themselves so as not to bother him, but there was no harm in trying).

For the first few months he was alone in the accommodation, it seems the universe finally smiled on him; the privacy and peace he had to do everything, from studying to doing nothing, was incredible.

Well, until now. The middle of the college year was approaching, and with it some students who transferred from other colleges to their unit, for various reasons. This was apparently the reason why some dorms had one or no people when they were made for doubles.

Stiles was on his way to the principal's office to find out who he would be sharing a room with when he ran into her.

He doesn't know what he gave himself, but there was something about that person in front of him that attracted him in every way. He didn't realize he was staring until he saw you heading towards him, stopping right in front of him. He thought he might faint.

"you can take a photo, beautiful, it will last longer" She said and smiled. The tone wasn't mocking… it was more of an amusing tone, as if it had entertained her. "What is your name?" You speak, and Stiles takes a couple seconds to reason. Damn, after all those years of liking Lydia he really thought he would know how to deal with female gender better.

"Ah, my name is Stiles! It's nice to meet you. You transferred, right?"

You introduce yourself and agree, and then ask him for directions "Can you tell me which is dominion 53? I was placed there"

Stiles didn't know if he would jump up and down with excitement or if he would curl up in a fetal position for the next few minutes.

That was his dorm.

"It's my dorm, actually" He says and scratches the back of his head, his hair was growing there. Maybe it was time to a cut…

"Then show me the way, sir" You say in a slightly excited way, looking at him.

As you walk and talk through the halls on your way to your own dorm, he can't take his eyes off you. His alternative punk style suited his personality. He also noticed that it was very, very easy to talk to you, as if you had known each other for a while.

When they arrive at the dorm, he notices that you are impressed with the place, looking around for a while and then asking what your room would be. The place was made up of a common room, with a TV, sofa and bookshelf with some books with an armchair nearby and a small kitchen with a fridge, stove and some cupboards, with a table that was full of Stiles' papers, who thought the place very comfortable.

────────────────────────────────

After a few weeks you were already used to living together, and you talked every day like old friends. the table that stiles used in the room slowly started to be used by the two of you, who also began to study frequently together, sometimes spending the night studying some old cold and unsolved FBI case.

One of the only times of the day you weren't together was in your own classes and when you both went to sleep.

And as time went by, Stiles started to hate that last part.

Not that he didn't like sleeping, but, you see, it's not easy to sleep with a painful, throbbing erection between your legs, which starts releasing pre-cum whenever Stiles thinks about you in the privacy of his own room. That was the moment when, outside of classes, he had nowhere to divert the thoughts he had about you.

And he remembered well when you started to disturb his nights: it was when he went to gather the clothes to be washed, since it was his week to do this task, and went to his room. he hadn't found anything out of the ordinary, until the moment he picked up something… wet? He lifts it to see what it was and finds his panties all wet with obvious cum, they were almost dripping with something he assumed was his excitement.

until it got worse lmfao

A few nights after that, he found himself lying in his own bed,

with his limbs spread out while one of his arms covered his own eyes. He was ready to give in to taking a cold shower to try to get rid of that erection that wouldn't go away, because he avoided touching himself too much thinking about you (he would definitely remember this at some random moment of the day and would be embarrassed) when he heard a soft moan. He thought it was something in his own mind with tension, so he ignored it… until he heard it again, louder.

The noises became frequent and then the penny dropped: you were making a fuss. And apparently, I was thinking about him too, if the loud moans that said "Stiles~ oh, fuuucckkk" that you let out were anything to go by.

He stopped in his bed, frozen halfway to standing up as he listened to her sounds, which were getting louder and louder, when his hand automatically went to his own erection, squeezing it tightly as he sighed in relief at the light contact. His hand started moving up and down faster and faster, and he could feel his dick throb every time you moaned louder and he could hear it.

How were you? Was she squeezing her breasts, or was her attention focused solely on her pussy? Was she touching her own clitoris while thinking about his tongue there? He didn't know, but just the possibility that his thoughts were, for the first time, real, he felt his hips rise against his own hands as he tightened his grip on his own cock, increasing the pace almost automatically.

This went on for a few moments, but he wouldn't be able to get there, not with you touching yourself so audibly so close to him. Then he got up and left the room. Without thinking too much, so as not to lose his courage, he went to your door and was surprised by the fact that it was ajar, giving him a partial view of you, wrapped in the blankets with one hand between your legs, obviously touching your own pussy. , while gripping the pillow above you.

He sees your absolutely beautiful breasts move with your heavy breathing and, taking advantage of the exact moment when you moan his name in such an obscene and beautiful way, he responds:

"Yes Princess?" as he leans against the frame of his door, smiling as he becomes deeply distracted by the sight before him.

You look at him in shock, your movements stopping as you stare at him, speechless and analyzing the boy in front of you.

It was no secret to you how attractive Stiles was, and you really didn't know how he didn't have anyone to call hers. From the first moment you were enchanted by him, by how naturally funny he is and how he didn't judge you based on your appearance and style; right now he didn't seem to be judging you… he even seemed horny.

Seeing his expression and how he was behaving you relaxed on the bed, your pussy still pulsing as you gave him a drunken smile, saying "hi Stiles, have you been there for a long time darling?"

"I just arrived, but I've been listening for a while, yes. These walls are very thin, you know" He speaks and you pay attention to him. He turns more towards you as the words leave his mouth, him becoming more comfortable, and gives you the view of his cock forming a tent in the pants he probably wears without underwear.

"I know… why don't you come closer and tell me about it, pretty boy?" You talk and smile, patting the bed in an invitation that wasn't meant to talk about the dorm's infrastructure.

"Gorgeous woman speaks, I obey." He responds, heading towards you.

He gets to the foot of the bed and looks at you, saying "Hi" to which you respond by pulling him on top of you while kissing him.

"Do you realize how much I wanted to do that, baby? Kiss you like that?" You say, wrapping your legs around his hips and caressing Stiles' bare arms.

"I haven't wanted you for as long as I have, I guarantee it" He replies, holding your waist and kissing you on your neck, the trail continuing to your breasts as he feels your legs wrapping around him, smiling at the gesture while squeezing your waist.

"Why don't you show me what else you want to do to me, sti?" You speak finally, looking him in the eyes as he looks back at you, kissing your nipples.

"I would love"

[hotchfiles]

stiles stilinski + i was all over her 🤞🤞

lari's 100th follower bash + send me a song and one of my boys for a drabble

stiles + salvia palth's i was all over her (back at that party, I was all over her, we didn't make out or do anything, I just remember I was lonely)

i didn't usually drink, alcohol always slowed me down and that was the exact opposite of what i usually wanted. i liked my senses sharp, i needed my senses sharp. being too slow meant losing important clues, missing clues meant an unfinished puzzle. when the puzzle wasn't finished, people died.

a huge responsibility to carry, i never minded it though, it kept me busy, kept my mind busy, made me important, gave me purpose: helping my friends. assisting. being useful.

today none of them needed that assistance though, busy with with college applications, graduation stuff that maybe i should be busying myself with as well, but thinking about that made me uneasy. so today i drink.

more than i should, i admit it.

beacon hills shitty life or death threats have surrounded me for years, being helpful was all i knew. i had no idea what to do, where to go, and watching as my friends so eagerly made plans to leave was unnerving. who was i if not stiles, scott's best friend?

thinking like that could keep me awake at night more than any monster.

so today i drink.

and i watch as people my age have fun, no idea of all the danger there is around, possibly not feeling the weight i felt deep in my soul. i observe many of them before one catches my eyes. girl my age, smile bright. happy. carefree.

the eyes though. heavy. dark. preoccupied. she did something intriguing whenever she went back to the bar, shot of tequila was her only choice, her smile would vanish for a few seconds, take a deep breath and shoot down, shaking her head quickly before going back to her friends. just then, when she was close to them, her smile would appear again.

she seemed lonely, like me today. but she was a better actress than i was, or i just didn't have the company to force myself to act like she did. i couldn't keep my eyes off of her though, some sort of magnetic energy that glued my eyes to her.

maybe she was just beautiful and i was drinking too much. i wanted to talk to her, ask her about the fake smiles, the deep sighs, the tequila, but i didn't want her to meet me like this, and watching her, weirdly, was enough feel less alone.

she noticed the staring, it didn't creep her out apparently. concerning, really, she should be more careful. instead she took something out of the tiniest bag i've ever seen (what does even fit inside those? definitely not a weapon if she ended up needing one) and turned to the bartender, still looking at me as she handed him a piece of paper.

odd. a bit hurtful.

i looked the other way then, but the bartender soon handed me a tequila shot with a paper under it.

her number. guess i wouldn't be so lonely after all.

[strangerstilinski]

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary; stiles lets it slip that he hasn't had his first kiss yet and, as his friend, you're more than happy to remedy that.

warnings; no use of y/n, fluff, established friendship, some pretty intense kissing, one instance of reader being referred to as a girl

word count; +3.5k

a/n; no smut here, but i am currently planning a couple nsfw pieces to work on between bouts of writing my ongoing (long suffering) stiles fic.

please think about leaving a comment/reblogging if you enjoy! it would actually mean the world to me

“-And it was just.. So wet. Way, way too much spit, y’know? And there was entirely too much tongue on his part considering the fact that his hands, like, never even left his pockets-”

You’re not entirely sure how, nor at what point, the conversation devolved into a mostly one-sided and incredibly detailed analysis of Mark Hagan’s kissing technique, or lack thereof, but by the time your eyes fall to the boy sitting in the driver’s seat, you realize that you’ve been rambling for at least a full minute in the patchy darkness of the parked car.

“-And I’m not saying I wanted to be groped or anything but, I mean, it’s a little awkward when a guy just-”

You falter suddenly, when you notice the awkward slump in Stiles’ posture, and your words taper out without warning. He has one hand white-knuckled on the steering wheel and the other gripped tightly on the back of the seat where he’d turned to face you when he first asked how your date had gone the night before. And- God. That had been minutes ago, now.

“Sorry,” You apologize immediately with a grimace, “Was that, like, way too much information? Sorry.”

“No, I, uh,” He releases the steering wheel and shakes out his hand as if only just realizing how tight his grip had truly been. Your eyes are embarrassingly distracted by the long line of his fingers as he continues, “I guess I just didn’t realize how many things you could do wrong, y’know? I assumed it’d be more straight forward than that. You lean in, press your lips together, kiss, done. Right?”

You laugh softly at his rushed response, “I mean, I guess. I’d like to think there’s a little more skill that goes into it than that.”

“And, uh, Mark..” Stiles has been seemingly overwhelmed with reasons to dislike the other boy since you’d announced your upcoming date the week before, and he nearly spits the name with disdain when he says it now. “No skill, huh? Not quite, uh.. Not up to your standards?” He’s fiddling with the straw from his long-finished milkshake as he speaks, eyes downcast and determinedly focussed on his fingers, “Considering the overabundance of tongue, the lack of groping, and the, uh.. All-around wetness-?”

Another small huff of laugher escapes you as you drop your own empty cup into the greasy paper bag the diner had stuffed your to-go order into a half hour before, your socked feet returning to the Jeep’s dashboard only a moment later.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” You fight back a cringe at the mere memory of the drool that coated Mark’s chin when you’d finally decided you’d had enough and pulled away.

“What about you?”

His question catches you off guard and your brows furrow as you meet his gaze, “What about me?”

He twists and folds the straw of his drink with more vigor, nose crinkling before he elaborates, “What would you say your, uh.. Your skill level.. is?”

You pitch forward to grab one of the few remaining curly fries from the container perched by your feet on the dash, falling back into your seat and munching slowly as you genuinely ponder the question.

“I think I’m probably alright,” You shrug after a moment, “I mean, it’s hard to say, right? But I’ve never had any complaints. And considering Lydia is, like, the queen of complaining-”

You’re caught off guard by the entirely inhuman squawk of disbelief and surprise that escapes him. He’s scrambling in his seat with no real purpose before he slowly comes back to a standstill, now sitting just a few inches closer to the passenger side than he was before.

“Lydia? You.. You and Lydia have-?”

You shrug again as you wipe your greasy fingertips on the leg of your jeans, “Yeah, like, twice. Maybe three times?”

“Three-?”

“What about you?” You interrupt.

You tip your head against the backrest to look at him in the dim light of the parking lot as you await his response. The Jeep is barely getting hit with the residual light from the windows of the diner, but the bright neon sign on the roof of the building casts a pretty red hue over Stiles’ face. His mole-dotted skin is flushed with it, the only bits safe from the red-tinted glow are the shadows beneath his brows and the tiny divot in the tip of his nose that extends up from his cupid’s bow. You want to trace the darkness on his skin with the tip of your finger — with your lips.

You find yourself getting lost in just how gorgeous he is, not for the first time.

“Huh?” Stiles asks dumbly.

“Skill level,” You elaborate with a grin, lifting one foot from the dash to poke your toes into his knee, “What about you? Are the girls positively swooning? Melting under your touch? ‘Oh, Stiles. You’re the best kisser on this side of the Rockies-’”

Your teasing is silenced when his hand comes out to cover your mouth, long fingers trapping the words beneath your lips. Your knee is squished awkwardly between you, but he’s so warm you can feel the heat of his body seeping into your own, and the scent of his body wash fills your nose now rather than the lingering smell of grease from your shared dinner. You can hardly focus on his words as the smell of teakwood and pine invades your senses.

“No one in their right mind would ever say something like that after being kissed,” He tells you, face pinched in a cringe, “Like, not even something remotely along those lines. Not even in those weird old-timey romance movies you make me w-”

You grab ahold of his fingers to pull his palm from your lips with a small giggle, “Oh, c’mon, the suspense is killing me! Are you a good kisser or not?” Your mind is reeling a bit as you think about it. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss Stiles, to feel his lips on your own, his hands on you. “I feel like you probably are. Just the right about of enthusiasm but you’re also a total perfectionist so it’d-”

“I don’t know!”

His exclamation is entirely too loud for the confined space of the car, his voice ricocheting sharply off the metal shell of the vehicle and causing you both to flinch a little. Stiles looks as if he wishes he could stuff the words back into his mouth and try again. You’re simply looking him over with a more critical eye, searching for the reason for his recent outburst as if it might be written plainly on his face, like you might find big emboldened letters of explanation etched across his skin.

“What’d’you mean you don’t know?” You scoff in amusement, “Y’know what? Fine-” You shuffle closer as an idea pops into your head — a brilliant, glorious, heaven-sent idea. His fingertips are still trapped within the palm of your hand and your knee slips over the top of his thigh as you slide closer and move into the center seat, “C’mere. I’ll give you review-”

Your face edges closer and closer to his own until your noses bump and the delicate touch seems to zap Stiles into alertness, sending him jolting back as if he’s been electrocuted.

The sourness that erupts in your belly at his reaction isn’t wholly unexpected, but a small flicker of shame joins it and burns like acid in your chest.

“Well, shit..” You murmur with an awkward chuckle.

It’s difficult to bite back the nagging feeling of embarrassment that swirls through your veins in response to being shot down by your best friend — your best friend that you’ve desperately been wanting to kiss since middle school.

You swallow harshly before continuing with a self-deprecating laugh, “I didn’t realize the thought of kissing me was quite so.. Horrifying. My bad.. I.. I’m sorry. You don’t- I didn’t think and I just- Sorry.” The last bit comes out quieter, the sound of it buried beneath the sudden tightness in your throat.

You find yourself avoiding his eyes, but that only means that your gaze is drawn to the smooth expanse of his neck — and there’s that glow from the diner’s neon sign again. His skin is cast in that red hue, smooth expanses of scarlet broken up by the speckles of dark moles and beauty marks scattered here, there, everywhere. You can almost make out his jumping pulse beneath the hollow of his throat, the dark crimson shadow twitching nearly imperceptibly with each too-quick beat of his heart.

They’re all spots that you’ve only dreamt of having your lips touch.

On rainy days when he shakes his hair out like a dog with the sole purpose of hearing the way you squeal in surprise, the drops of water finding their way down his temple and filling you with the urge to kiss it away.

When you slip into daydreams from the desk behind him during class, your eyes stuck on the exposed curve of his shoulder where his shirt collar is stretched just a little too loose, your lips tingling with the all-too vivid phantom feeling of his skin beneath them.

Trapped in his embrace, his height just enough that your face is smushed into his collarbones, nose crushed against him and pulling in the woodsy scent of his cologne, your mouth pressed limply to the soft cotton over his chest but aching with the desire to pucker and leave behind a gentle peck.

“No! No, it’s not that!” Stiles denies immediately. He’s already reaching out to drag you closer again, hands curling into your waist the moment you attempt to slip backwards into a bubble of shame in the passenger seat. “Kissing you would be the opposite of horrifying! It would be, like, a dream come true or- Or-”

Your eyebrows creep up your forehead at that, the barely there curve of a nervous smile pulling at the corners of your lips as his words seem to tumble out faster, growing increasingly difficult to understand as he rambles in a way that you’re all-too familiar with.

“-Because if I was going to kiss anyone, I’d want it to be you, but if I do kiss you and I’m horrible at it and you’re, like, repulsed-”

You’re still trying to piece things together despite the jumbled bits you seem to have missed. Your lips part in astonishment and his fingers tighten where they’ve begun to anxiously dig into your hips as he continues.

“-What if I’m worse than Mark? What if.. What if I’m so bad that you kiss me once and then you never, ever want to kiss me again because I was so unbelievably-”

“Stiles!”

You cut him off, already scooting closer until your left thigh is practically in his lap. His words cut off, a sharp inhale tearing past his lips as your hands find his shoulders, your thumb dragging over the freckled skin of his neck. You can feel his pulse jumping wildly against the pad of your finger as you finally voice your question.

“Are you telling me you’ve never kissed anyone before?” You ask the question as delicately as you can manage, but he still winces as an embarrassed flush colors his cheeks further.

“Not.. Not technically.” He admits quietly, big brown eyes still tinted beneath the crimson glow from outside the Jeep.

“Not technically?” You repeat slowly.

“I don’t know why I thought saying it like that would make it sound better,” He says weakly, “It didn’t. It was still just as mortifying. And so, so lame.”

Your heart flutters, cracks, and then ticks up in quick succession as your flooded with a wide array of conflicting emotions. You can’t quite believe what it is you’re hearing.

“You haven’t had your first kiss?” The words come out a bit more heartbroken than you intended.

Stiles looks horrified at the bluntness of your statement for a moment before he’s swallowing harshly, eyes dropping from your own for a fleeting second.

“No,” He says in a quiet voice, nearly a whisper as his eyes flick back up to yours, “But, um, if- If you’re still offering.. I mean-”

Your heart is positively hammering in your chest, so hard you worry he might be able to hear it, but then your thumb drags up and brushes over his own racing pulse again and his nerves seem to somehow calm yours. Your lean forward until the tip of your nose catches on the bridge of his again, eyes not leaving his as you move achingly slow, giving him time in case he decides to change his mind.

“You’re sure?” You ask softly, the whispered question little more than a breath of warm air against the bow of his upper lip.

“Uh huh.” He just manages the quiet sound of affirmation, a small nod of his head has your lips brushing lightly and the barely-there touch pulls a sharp breath of anticipation from him.

“Okay,” You say quietly, dragging one hand to the back of his neck so you can guide the angle of his head just a touch to one side.

His grip on your hips readjusts and tightens further, one of his clammy palms slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, and the warmth of skin on skin has you breathing out harshly in the sliver of space between your lips again. Your eyes flick slow between his, wide pools of scarlet-tinted whiskey watching you with rapt attention. Your mouth curves up with the hint of a smile, a soft breath of laughter falling into his parted lips as your fingers dig into the thick muscle of his neck.

“Close your eyes, weirdo.” You whisper fondly.

“Shit, fuck. Sorry, yeah. Eyes closed.” He rambles off quickly, eyes pinching shut immediately and hands squeezing your hips as if silently promising that he’s ready.

Endeared. You’re so fucking endeared your organs feel as if they’ve gone warm and syrupy beneath your skin.

Despite your admonishment of his eyes being open, you find yourself unable to pull your own away from watching every small tick in his features. Your hand on his shoulder tightens as you brush your nose across his and when the tight pinch of his eyes slackens and he takes a small nervous breath of anticipation, you finally press your lips to his.

It starts with just a small peck as your brain whites out for just a second. His lips are soft and chapped and plush against your own. You linger for a brief moment before you’re separating just enough to slot your mouths back together a little better.

His lower lip finds itself between yours and he gravitates toward you when you make like you’re about to draw back a second time, his mouth blindly searching for yours. He applies more pressure as he seems to become more sure of himself, one of his hands sliding to the base of your spine to drag you closer.

Impressed, you guide the angle of his head to tip just a hair further, your lips parting to exhale a hot breath into the gap between his own. A small sound rumbles from his chest as he tries to replicate the heat of your kiss on the next meeting. His lips fall open just enough that his breath mingles with your own and your brain goes a little heady with it, thighs tensing as blood rushes in your ears and heat pools in your gut.

You draw back and you’re forced to tangle your fingers in his hair to hold him in place when he tries to chase your mouth again. His eyes crack open to meet your own when he finds himself unable to catch you in another kiss and his pupils are blown a little wide, black overtaking brown until only a small ring of rich chocolate remains. You’re sure you don’t look much better, with the way our chest is threatening to heave with excitement, your fingers trembling where they’re gripping onto the muscle of his shoulder and woven into his hair.

“That was.. That was good.” You tell him after a moment, voice embarrassingly shaky, “What.. What’d you think?”

“Good.” He returns just as weak, “Great. That- Mhm. Awesome.”

His eyes are on your lips again and he looks downright hungry, but then, so are you.

“You’re a natural,” You praise breathlessly, eyes flicking between his rapidly as your fingers unconsciously tighten in his hair, “I’d never guess that was your first kiss – It was.. You learn fast.”

“We- You should probably show me more,” He insists, already leaning back in until his forehead finds your own, “That way I won’t end up like Mark, y’know? With pretty girls complaining to their friends about how wet and gross and bad it-”

“You think I’m pretty?”

He blinks at you as his lips curve up at the corners, the tip of his nose catching against yours to shoot sparks down your spine when he replies, “I think you’re beautiful.”

“Oh.” Is all you manage to get out as a smile tugs at your own lips.

“You want to maybe show me how to use tongue without, being completely repulsive and, like, drowning you or whatever?”

“Mhm,” You agree easily through a breathless laugh. You can’t quite help the quick press of your lips to his and you feel the relieved exhale that falls from his nose and fans out in a warm puff against your face. “Just for the record, though-” You feel the need to elaborate, “There is a time and a place for wet. When things are really hot and heavy and you’re in the throes of passion or whatever — a little too much tongue is great. It can be really, really hot. But- Like I said, time and place.”

The information leaves Stiles looking mildly overwhelmed and severely aroused, but he’s nodding dutifully, “Uh huh. Got it. Noted. I’ll remember that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

His mouth is claiming yours again before the word is even fully out, the sound of it lost in your lips and what remains is smothered by your gasp of surprise. You let him control the pace for a moment before remembering that you’re supposed to be the one guiding him.

You bring one hand up to his face, thumb catching his chin so you can guide his jaw to drop open a bit further as your tongue teases against the inside of his lip. His groan meets your ears, the sound of it sending a shockwave through your body that you’re still reeling from as he repeats your action with truly startling ease. The warm wetness of his tongue has you feeling hot all over, and when it catches against the tip of your own before retreating, you nearly whimper in protest at the loss.

He effortlessly settles into the pattern of give and take, hot brushes of tongues broken up by soft pecks against slick lips. His fingertips dig into your skin like he’s afraid you might slip away into nothing if he doesn’t hold you tight enough and you find your own fingers scraping at his scalp in response.

You’re both making soft little noises between the quiet smack of lips, the leather seats creaking every time your weight shifts in an attempt to get closer.

The lack of oxygen has your head a little fuzzy at the edges when you finally pull back and each of your exhales mingle warmly in the small sliver of space between your mouths as you both fight to catch your breath.

“I, um. I don’t think you have to worry about your kissing technique.” You tell him breathlessly just to break the silence, “You’re all good. A, uh, a great kisser. Eleven out of ten.”

“Cool. Cool. That’s great, I, um-” He coughs quietly, nervously, as he leans back to put a bit more space between you, “Would you maybe want to do it again sometime?”

He’s looking at you with pretty brown eyes blown wide and bleeding earnestness. The hand around your back has fallen to your upper thigh, the grip of it tightening as if punctuating certain words as he speaks. It’s entirely possible that your brain sort-circuits, because a moment of silence passes before he’s barreling on.

“-because I, for one, would really like to do that again sometime. Maybe.. Maybe after a date? Or during a date — that part doesn’t really matter. I just really like you and I have pretty much since forever and now that I’ve kissed you-”

“You like me?” Is all you manage past the heavy thumping of your heart in your chest, your ears — Shit, you’re pretty sure you can feel every pump of it in each trembling twitch of your fingers.

“So much that’s borderline embarrassing, yeah.” He admits, throat bobbing as he swallows nervously.

A breath whooshes past your lips, filled with relief and surprise and elation.

“I like you too.” You say after a beat too long, “Holy shit. Stiles, are you kidding me? I’ve liked you since the fifth grade.”

“Really?” He looks mildly shocked.

A giddy laugh escapes you as you drag him forward again to bring your lips back together. The kiss is chaste, but filled with so much emotion it makes your head swim a bit.

“Damn,” Stiles mutters suddenly, the frustrated curse puffing out against your cheek, “Does that mean we could’ve been doing this the whole time? Like, years of kissing-?”

His words cut off when your lips find his once more and he gives in easily, his train of thought thoroughly derailed.

“I guess we’ve got a lot of time to make up for then, Stilinski.. You up for the challenge?”

Stiles nods wildly and he’s pulling you back in before you can say anything else.

[star-girl-05]

Knight in Shining Armour

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

There were a hundred reasons why Stiles hates Theo Raeken. He’s a douche and on multiple occasions he has tried to kill his friends. Lately though his hatred for the man has grown, all because of you. More specifically the way Theo interacts with you. He’s always overly touchy with you, finding any excuse to touch you. Even going as far as whispering in your ear. The worst part is you let him do it. 

Stiles wants to be the only one allowed to be that close to you. To whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Instead you let Theo, and it takes everything in Stiles not to do something about it, scared you’d get mad at him. Tonight though that all changes…

Tonight is one of the few nights the pack is doing something normal teens do, Partying. Everyone’s just cutting loose, forgetting about all their responsibilities and just living in the moment. Of course just as they were having fun Theo has to show up souring everyone's mood. He only says a few words before disappearing into another room but his presence is enough to put everyone on guard, especially Stiles. 

While the others try to get back into a partying mood, Stiles is focused solely on Theo. Watching closely as he walks over to you, standing much too close for his liking. This time however instead of letting Theo stand close to you you're shoving him away earning a silent cheer from Stiles. However his smile quickly falls when he sees Theo roughly pull you back to him. 

Stiles moves on instinct making his way across the room to you. As he approaches Theo drops your arm rolling his eyes once Stiles is in front of him. 

“Are you okay?” Stiles asks immediately, concern evident in his voice. 

“Yeah I’m fine, Theo was just leaving” you set Theo with a glare making sure he got the message. Not that he ever does no matter how many times you tell him off he just comes back. 

“Oh come on Princess” he moves to reach you again but Stiles intervenes. Theo chuckles as Stiles stands in front of you, “Oh I see, you’re her knight in shining armour. Well when you get sick of this dumbass give me a call”, with a final smirk he walks away. 

You let out a breath of relief, before turning to Stiles. “Thank you, he just never listens” 

“This has happened before?” He looks so concerned, it warms your heart that he cares so much. 

“Yeah he’s always bugging me can never take no as an answer”  

“Well if he tries something again call me” you can’t help but chuckle a little, stepping closer to him. 

“Guess you really are my knight in shining armour”, Stiles blushes at your words, “Every hero deserves an award” he freezes as you lean in, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

“I- it was no problem” he stutters doing his best to try to seem like he wasn’t totally freaking out. 

“Come one my knight, let’s dance” you grab his hands leading him into the crowd of teens all dancing.

[elilovesredacted]

stiles x witch!reader part two

( reader should be GN. I’m imagining Kathryn Hahn as the readers mother just because she’s so good as Agatha Harkness, feel free to change that however you want! )

- After your powers started to manifest, Stiles never left your side.

- Always worried you’d be overwhelmed by the voices in your mind, or whatever decided to come next.

- You both began researching like crazy, spending nights in your bedrooms surrounded by massive tombs stolen borrowed from the Argents.

- “What even is that symbol?”

- “You know what, I couldn’t tell you even if I tried.”

- You usually ended your researching sessions with takeout and lots of movies.

- “How about The Craft?”

- “Stiles..”

- “What?”

——————————————————

- Your powers keep growing even without you trying.

- You begin searching into your family’s past, trying to figure out where this magic in your veins stemmed from.

- Your mother had disappeared only a few years after Claudia’s death, so you couldn’t ask her.

- All you had was the old family tree in the attic, and some photos of a woman who looked suspiciously like your mom, though the photo came from 1946.

- Stiles had his own theories, but even his ideas seemed far-fetched.

- Some nights were harder than others.

- You sat on Stiles’ bed, one of his clean lacrosse jerseys over your body as you cried into his neck.

- “What even am I.. What if she knew and she left because-“

- “Hey, whoa, no way. Your mom loves you. I promise you, Sparks, that’s not why she’s gone. You’d be crazy to leave you.” He whispered into the crown of your head, one hand rubbing your back while the other drummed its fingers on your knee.

- You spent a lot of nights at the Stilinski house after that.

——————————————————

- Sitting in a circle of candles was not how you had planned to spend your Wednesday night.

- You had arrived at the Stilinski house, fully prepared to cover your calculus textbook back to front.

- Instead, Stiles rushed down the stairs with papers flying behind him.

- “Okay, okay I think I can get you to levitate.”

- “I’m sorry what?”

- And then you find yourself sitting on his floor, white candles all around you.

- “Okay so, you just need to hold this sigil and concentrate.”

- “You’ve told me that already.”

- “Right, sorry.”

- You give him a soft smile before closing your eyes, taking a deep breath.

- The feeling of your magic fills your chest. The voices of Beacon Hills, the years of supernatural energy flowing all around you.

- You hear Stiles gasp, but choose to ignore him, holding your concentration as best you can.

- “Sparks..”

- “Shhh, i’m concentrating.”

- “Look down, Sparks.”

- You slowly peak out from one eye, before letting out a gasp. The circle of candles and wooden floor was more than a foot below you.

- “H-Holy shit!”

- “I got you!”

- Losing your concentration, you quickly plummet towards the floor, though a set of arms quickly wrap around you.

- Stiles’ face is about two inches from yours as you scramble to hold onto him.

- “I.. uh..”

- “You… You okay?”

- You nod slowly, one hand instinctively moving up to play with the hair at the bottom of his neck.

- You barely hear it, but a low, quiet moan leaves Stiles’ move before he blinks quickly and shakes his head.

- “I’ll.. I’ll put you down now.”

- When your feet hit the ground, you both stand in each other’s arms.

- “Thanks, Mischief..” You whisper.

- “Anytime, Sparks.”

[little-miss-alone-n-in-love]

Stiles Stilinski who whines for more, even after being told to stay quiet.

Stiles Stilinski who drools at the sight of his girl, no matter what position they're in or what they're doing; he can't help it, not when she looks, sounds, and feels like that.

Stiles Stilinski who talks about how good their sex was (only to her, of course) hours later when they're trying to fall asleep, at dinner, in the car, etc.

Hey! I appreciate all the love I've gotten so much! You guys are amazing, seriously. Unfortunately, the next few weeks are going to be super hectic for me and I am running out of smutty ideas. So, if anyone has some ideas/concepts they'd like to chat about, send them my way and I will try to respond and add to them when I can! My inbox will always be open. Thank you! 💜

[fandomnsfw]

Take Me Dancing -

Stiles Stilinski x Plus size!Reader

(Because my boy can dance 😭...fuck)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Prompt:

Warning: Smut! Stiles got a obsession with asses! Because in my mind he’s an ass man or legs man!

Description: Malia made you buy a dress you aren’t so comfortable in...she’s taking yes as an answer only. Grin and bare it you guess...until you finally got the boy you like to notice you.

ENJOY!!!

**********

However before you could change Malia bust into your room without so much as a knock, looking you over with a satisfied smile. You shook your head, your eyes widening as she grabbed your arm.

However before you could change Malia bust into your room without so much as a knock, looking you over with a satisfied smile. You shook your head, your eyes widening as she grabbed your arm.

“Nope! I need to change!” You screamed dramatically as she dragged you out your room with ease, god damn werewolf strength, your size clearly didn’t faze the wolfs when they flung you around like you were a size 6.

“Nope you need to get in the nice expensive car Peter bribed my love with.” Malia deadpanned as she opened the passenger door to her car.

“Malia I look like a big red marshmallow!” You screamed childishly as she was wrapping the seatbelt over your body clearly not taking any chances with you running back into your house.

“Stop. You look sexy and if he doesn’t see that, find someone better. I heard that Brett has a thing for curvy girls.” Malia supplied and you rolled your eyes at her words like she was lying through her teeth.

“You mean fat?” You supplied bitterly and she shot you the deadliest glare she could muster, her eyes flashing at you in warning.

“Listen to me now woman you look so fucking good so when we get there you’re going to get a drink, then we’re going to dance and ignore everyone else? Okay?” She demanded as we started pulling up to the loft.

“Fine. I do love dancing… also does Derek know we’re using his loft this time?” You asked with a raised brow as you stared at the glowing light coming from the loft.

“It was his idea since he’s away he said we could use it as long as we cleaned up and replaced whatever gets broken.” Malia shrugged as she turned off the car.

You stepped out of the car, looking down at the red, long sleeved wrap dress that came to the middle of your thighs and your black heels with a sigh before taking a deep breath. You put on your best fake confidence and linked arms with Malia who was in a plain tight black dress.

The second you walked into the loft your eyes widened at the sight of all the bright lights flashing on the make shift dance floor, there was a make shift bar in the corner too making you cheer happily. You dragged Malia to the bar in desperate need of alcohol to loosen you up.

You ordered your favourite drink, taking a few heavy gulps, your throat burning as it went down and you finished the drink and looked at Malia with a wide grin as she laughed at your antics.

“Happiness, ain’t something you sit back and ya wait for.” Selena Gomez’s voice sounded through the speaker and your arm shot in the air happily.

You cheered happily as you dragged Malia to the dance floor swaying your hips as you went, the beat rippling through your body as the body’s mushed together dancing along to the beat.

You and Malia danced closely, resting your hands on each other as you danced, getting lost in the beat. You were enjoying dancing, it had been so long since you felt this free you were shocked when someone started dancing behind you, their hands on your hips but Malia just nodded so you went with it, not looking who is was.

You could feel they were tall, their muscles pressing against your back and your best guess was Brett which made you laugh softly as you danced, he was a friend so you had no problem with it and you were very single. However since you never looked back, scared you’d lose your nerve, you couldn’t confirm it was Brett.

You danced for the rest of the song pressed against Malia and the unknown guy behind you until the DJ announced he’d had a request from someone called Stiles and your eyes widened as Stiles came to the side of you glaring at the guy behind you making Malia chuckle.

“Don’t mind if I steal Y/N do you? Of course not.” Stiles stated sarcastically as he drug you away from, who you now saw was indeed, Brett who looked beyond amused by Stiles as he continued dancing with Malia.

As Jason Derulo’s Take You Dancing came on you raised a brow at Stiles who just shrugged as he took you hand with a suggestive brow wiggle as he did a little bow, making you giggle softly. He suddenly spun you outwards before bringing you back into his chest as started grinding your body together his leg slightly between you leg.

“When did you learn to dance?” You chuckled awkwardly as you felt you face heat up being this close to the man you liked so much.

“Last year when I was living in Washington. I went to a few clubs and I met an older woman who took pity on me. She taught me how to dance telling me it was a waste that I had such a pretty face. She was an old dance teacher.” He huffed shyly into your ear before pulling away at arms length encouraging you to dance for him.

You shook your head at his confidence but for some reason it only seemed to boost your own. Right now the boy of your affections is showing you attention whether it was only for tonight or not, you were going to enjoy it.

“Well you do have a very pretty face.” You agreed casually, a mischievous grin taking over your face.

“So does Brett.” Stiles muttered childishly but you caught it, his words instantly made you feel elated.

“I prefer yours.” You purred in his ear as you rolled your body against his, his hand tightening on your hip as he pulled you closer, his forehead rest against yours.

“Wanna get out of here?” Stiles whispered, his hot breath hitting your lips as he spoke causing your breath to stutter so you gave him a nod letting him know you wanted to.

He intertwined his fingers with yours, pulling you towards the loft door not caring who saw which shocked you but what shocked you more is he approached Scott his hand still in yours clearly not ashamed of you which made your eyes widen.

“Scott I’m leaving with Y/N can you get a lift off Lydia?” Stiles shouted from a respectable distance.

“Okay man. Use protection!” Scott shouted with a smirk and you flushed instantly.

“Fuck you Scotty! I know how to wrap up okay!?” Stiles shouted back his tone full of playful hate.

Stiles took out his car keys and dragged you to the elevator in the loft, pressing ground floor and as soon as the door closed you looked up at him and his eyes were flickering so quickly between your lips and eyes you lost track as he started bouncing in his spot like he always did when he was nervous.

“Fuck it.” He whispered before pinning you against the elevator wall his lips on yours, one of his hands cupping your cheek as his other rested on the wall at the side of your head.

He seemed hesitant to deepen the kiss so you ran your tongue along his bottom lip begging for entrance and he let out a husky groan, the sound going straight to your core. His lips were so soft and pliable it made you feel so confident and in control.

The elevator made a small rattle when it reached the bottom floor and you pushed him back, allowing your hands to drift down his abdomen as you pulled away. You walked out of the elevator swaying your hips as you went not stopping, even when your dress rode up your thighs, until you reached the jeep.

Stiles scrambled to unlock the vehicle opening the door for you, and you couldn’t help the smirk on your lips as you noticed his shell shocked expression. He practically ran to the drivers side of the jeep, hopping in the seat before slamming the door, his gaze drifting to you as he turned the keys starting the jeep up surprisingly easily.

“My p-place or yours?” He asked nervously earning a chuckle from you.

“Mine.” You answered easily knowing you didn’t have roommates or parents living with you so you’d be free to do what you wanted without worrying someone would be home soon.

He nodded shakily, his face flushing as he started driving towards your home barely 10 minutes from Derek’s loft. You were starting to lose your nerve as silence of the drive took over you, your anxiety spiking as you glance at Stiles’ jittery fingers drumming on the steering wheel of the jeep.

“If you’ve changed you mind you can just drop me at home and leave Stiles.” You offered softly and he looked at you in panic.

“Do you not wanna do this?” He ask in worry.

“Stiles I want to do this.” You snorted and he nodded suddenly relaxing against his seat as he pulled up outside your apartment block.

“I really wanna do this.” Stiles confirmed, making you smile at him happily.

Stiles got out the vehicle before running around to yours, opening it and holding out his hand for you. You took his offered hand and stepped out of the jeep gracefully. Stiles locked up roscoe with a nod before allowing you to drag him inside the build straight to the elevator.

You got out at the 3rd floor making your way to you apartment pulling Stiles with you, who had yet to say a word. You were nervous but you ignored it in favour for the excited feeling you had for having finally gotten Stiles’ attention. He was always too concerned with Lydia to notice anyone else at least until Malia but when that ended you were to scared to tell him how you felt, scared of rejection from this beautiful man.

You opened your apartment door, letting go of Stiles hand allowing him to come in at his own pace. However the second you closed you door his lips were on your again with more confidence this time, his tongue wrapping around your as he dominated every inch of your mouth. You moaned into his mouth, the sound clearly pleasing him because he let gripped your hair, that was tangled in his longer fingers, tightly.

He pulled away, his lips wet and swollen as he stared down at you with a look you’d never seen on him and you could swear he looked hungry. Your cheeks flushed as his hands tugged at your hair so you were looking up at him, not allowing you to look away from him as he pinned your gaze.

“This dress is sinful Y/N.” Stiles whispered darkly against your lips.

“It’s amazing what makeup and a short dress can do.” You chuckled jokingly but instead of a laugh he frowned softly.

“Let me rephrase that. YOU look sinful in that dress.” Stiles growled uncharacteristically assertive, as he started backing you up towards your bedroom.

“I’m seeing all kind of sides of you tonight Mr Stilinski.” You giggled as you slipped out of your heels once you’d reached your room.

“You have no idea baby.” Stiles growled playfully as he grabbed your ass, squeezing both globes with his hands earning a gasp from you.

“Then educate me Mr Stilinski.” You moaned softly, grinding against him teasingly.

“Hands and knee’s baby.” Stiles instructed with a smirk and you raised your brow challengingly before doing what he asked, crawling onto your bed before looking back at him over your shoulder.

“Good girl.” Stiles praised as he got onto the bed behind you, his hands sliding up your bare legs as he went until he got to the hem of your dress. He paused for a few seconds however before you could check on him a hand came straight down onto your thinly covered ass cheek making you jump slightly at the confidence Stiles wash clearly holding right now.

“Fuck you feel so good…” Stiles groaned as he clutched your hips, grinding his jean covered cock against your ass. You felt like he had all the control which was making you uneasy so you pushed back grinding your ass against him teasingly.

“You gonna fuck me or should I kick you out and do it myself?” You said with fake confidence as you looked back at him in a challenging way and his eyes darkened as they narrowed at you.

“Well I was gonna be nice and take my time but clearly you’re too impatient, huh baby?” Stiles taunted seductively, his hands tugging your dress over your ass exposing the thong you had on and all you could do was moan in response.

His hand came down onto your lace covered ass earning a louder groan of pleasure from you, pushing your ass against him once again. He moved back a little on the bed making you look over your shoulder to see his stripping off his t-shirt leaving you to stare at him and you wouldn’t be surprised if you were drooling as your eyes flickered up and down his body.

“Fuck…” You moaned as he started pulling his cock out of his jeans.

“I intend to kitten.” Stiles chuckled darkly, a smirk taking over his face as he took out a condom from his back pocket.

He tore the packet open with his teeth before slipping the condom onto his rock hard length with slow movements clearly knowing him touching himself was effecting you. He suddenly pulled down your lace panties down your thighs and instead of his cock his tongue was on you in seconds.

“Sh-Shit! S-Stiles!” You moaned as his tongue pushed into your wet entrance.

“Mmm you taste good baby.” Stiles groaned against your fold earning another moan from you.

Your breathing was beginning to quicken as as tried to resist pushing your pussy against his face. Your hands gripped the cover as below you your moans growing louder the more the coil in your stomach built up. stomach started building with every lick and nibble.

“One of these days I’m gonna have to have you sit on my face and ride my tongue.” Stiles teased as he pulled away as you were about to cum.

You wanted to complain about him pulling away but his words stopped you. That meant he wanted this to happen again and the thought of that turned you on even more especially when the imagine of sitting on Stiles face popped into your head.

“P-Please…” You pleaded breathlessly.

“Please what baby?” Stiles taunted as his right hand slid down your spine, pushing your head into the bed roughly.

“Please fuck my pussy Stiles…I need your cock.” You moaned desperately against the covers beneath your face.

“Such a good girl for asking no nicely.” Stiles praised into you ear before pulling away.

You felt the tip of his cock brush against your entrance and before he could slowly enter you you pushed back onto him, taking his full length the stretch leaving a burn but you reviled in it. You heard Stiles curse behind you so you looked behind you to see his eyes closed in ecstasy and the sight made you clench around his member.

“Well here’s me thinking you were a good girl…looks like I’ll have to punish you.” Stile growled as he bent over you body, his lips brushing against your ear as his cock pushed into you as deep as he could go.

“Bad girl.” Stiles whispered and if that wasn’t the dirtiest two words you’d ever heard in your life you didn’t now what was.

It effected you that much you came around his cock and he lost it, pounding into you so suddenly you let out a scream from the over sensitivity but he kept mercilessly fucking into you. His cock was bigger than the very little amount you’d seen and it made you feel full to the brim. He pulled back again too watch you fall apart beneath him.

His thrust started getting more frantic as you felt him sweep up bigger inside of you, knowing he was close you started pushing back against his cock meeting his thrusts, your ass bouncing off his hips. His eyes never left your ass, almost like he was mesmerised but what shocked you more was when he stopped thrusting to watch you continue you fast harsh bouncing on your ass.

“Fuck…your ass looks so good…that’s it baby finish me off…maybe I’ll let you cum again.” He moaned huskily, his eyes never leaving your ass.

You moaned at his words but started practically twerking on his dick like you were a needy porn star and Stiles couldn’t get enough of it. You felt yourself building for the second time but you held back until you finish Stiles.

His moans and grunts of pleasure filled your dark bedroom as you worked to finish him off. This was the hottest sex you’d had and honestly even if this ended up casual you thought maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

“Hey eyes on me kitten. I’m close…” He groaned demanding my and you obliged happily your y/e/c eyes boring into his amber ones.

“Cum for me Stiles…” You moaned dirtily as you sped up you hips, your eyes never leaving his as you did and then he threw his head back and let out the sexiest moan that sounded almost like a growl.

“F-Fuck.” He stuttered as he thrust into you desperately a few more times before coming to a stop.

When he started pulling out you figured that was it but suddenly he rolled you over and started eating your pussy like it was his favourite snack. Spreading your lips, he licked and sucked at your clit, making your legs shake as you came closer to your end.

Two of his fingers were thrust inside of you before you could even comprehend what was happening, curling up to press against that special spot. Your toes scrunched up and he starting moving his finger across that spot as he tongue sucked on your clit and you came with the loudest noise you ever made as you felt liquid literally gush out of you.

“Stiles! Fuck I’m still cumming!” You cried out as he continued thrusting and sucking.

“Shit…I was gonna finish you off and then cuddle but now I’m thinking I wanna do that again as you finally stopped cumming.

“Y-You’re gonna have t-to give me a minute Stiles.” You stuttered as you tried to stop you body twitching.

“Fuck I’ve n-never cum that hard in my life.” You whimpered your mind drifting.

“Baby you didn’t just cum you fucking squirted. I thought that shit only happened in porn. Yeah no can’t wait sorry babe.” Stiles exclaimed darkly as he delved back down and started back up his finger back inside of you rubbing at that spot all over again.

******

After two more times cumming Stiles fucked you again and it must’ve been about three in the morning when you finally both collapsed from exhaustion. He laid next you staring at the ceiling as you did the same, his breathing coming out in puffs of hot air.

“Best…” Stiles huffed out, his heart racing still.

“Sex…” He added his voice rough from the hours you’d spent in your bedroom.

“Ever…” He finished with a satisfied grin and you couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Yes it was…very surprising considering I’m not a petite red head.” You joked and Stiles didn’t seem to like that because he frowned at you.

“I wanted YOU not HER. Otherwise I’d of shown HER my improved dancing skills however I didn’t I came to YOU. Because watching Bretts hands all over you was torture and if he wasn’t a giant meat head wolf I’d of punched him for touching you— He sat up to look down at you, showing you everything he was saying was the truth and you couldn’t believe what was happening…Stiles…the man you have wanted for so long…is confessing to you.

—I’ve liked you for a long time Y/N and I never made a move because I figured someone so sexy and full of sass would want someone like Derek Hale or Brett Talbot…a manly big man who can sling you around…not some skinny hyperactive boy that has little experience with girls and even less with women.” He stated seriously and you sat up to look him in the eyes.

“I like you too…I have for a while tonight was about either getting your attention or moving on for good…” You replied softly and his eyes widened.

“You had my attention already…I wish I’d said something sooner…” He whispered sadly and you shook your head.

“This was the perfect moment. We both felt ready enough to make those moves and we finally pulled our fingers out…well you did.” You jokes at the end and he started laughing as he pulled you into a kiss.

“You know people are gonna call you names if you’re seen with me…I’m a big girl Stiles…” You stated sadly as he pulled away.

“No you’re perfect. Plus real men like a little cushion for the pushing baby. Ask Hale he’s always staring at your ass, fucking just as creepy as his uncle sometimes.” Stiles snorted as his eyes narrowed at the mention of Derek.

“One, cushion for the pushing really? That saying is outdated and some people take offence and two, Derek? Really? Hmm strange I never noticed.” You mumbled sceptically.

“Yeah well if he does it again I’m gonna rip HIS throat out with MY lovely human teeth.” Stiles grumbled against your neck, nibbling on yours neck as if to prove it somehow and the though made you chuckle.

“So possessive MR Stilinski.” You gasped playfully.

“Damn right. You’re my woman.” Stiles growled before he started sucking on the skin under your ear.

“I like the sound of that…but you know what I like the sound of more?” You moaned softly.

“What’s that baby?” He asked, his voice full of dirty promises.

“The sound of you fucking me.” You purred seductively making Stiles jump into action. This night couldn’t of been more perfect.

[kowbelll]

Heyy, I saw you were looking for requests and I was wondering if you would be willing to write Stiles Stilinksi asking reader on a date? What is your interpretation of his approach? What would the pining stage look like? Would he trip over his words? Is he still his usual cocky self? Would he be straightforward? Hopefully this gave you some inspiration and don’t feel pressured to write this if you don’t feel like it <3

I love this so much and it actually inspired me to write a New Year themed imagine, so thank you! Sorry it took so long to respond, but the holidays are a hectic time for everyone. I hope you like it and Happy New Year! 💜

A Date Before Midnight 🎉

Word count: 2,001

Stiles woke up on New Year’s Eve with a heavy weight on his shoulders. Everyone around him, all of his friends, even his father – they were all ecstatic about the fresh start and the chance to improve themselves again, as if all of those unrealistic goals weren’t going to disintegrate within the first few weeks, just like every other year. It was a waste of hope. But that’s not why Stiles was feeling so discouraged with himself.

That day was his last chance to achieve the goal he made 364 days ago: ask her out. One of his closest friends, favorite people, and biggest inspirations was the girl he met when he was a wee tot and had the privilege of growing up with. She always knew how to make him smile and she always let him go on lengthy rants, no matter how ridiculous they were. She listened and talked back, and made him feel normal and safe. This girl was everything he needed when he was lacking something. Somehow, she figured it out and did her best, resulting in a very happy and fulfilled Stiles.

He didn’t realize how truly drawn to her he was until last December when he saw the purity and kindness in her eyes as she handed him the thoughtful, personal Christmas present she made just for him. Plus, watching her go through and finish puberty was an excellent, yet sometimes painful, bonus (wink wink).

Every single day began with determination and ended with despair and frustration. He was so good at talking, it was one of his many talents, and he used it to give himself the advantage in all settings. So, he couldn’t understand why the words “Will you go out with me?” refused to make an appearance while he conversed with her. They constantly raced through his head, but shoving them out of his mouth was like forcing a mule to bake cookies.

Maybe it was fear, or doubt, possibly a dash of incredulity. Or maybe all of the above. Stiles had no clue because his desire to just say the damn words was eating him alive. His tongue was burning, but instead of putting out the flames, he subconsciously diverted his attention by bringing up some other lame conversation topic. He wasn’t sure if he had control of his own brain at that point due to how incredibly long this was taking him.

He decided to do it at the pack’s celebration at Scott’s house. He would pull her aside at some point and casually let it slip out, and it would all be fine. Right? The party was starting at nine, giving him two hours and fifty-nine minutes to figure it out. That’s plenty of time. Right? Right...?

Stiles was frantic and pacing around his room. He didn’t intend to put it off this long, he honestly and wholeheartedly wanted to achieve his goal before the year ended, but the stakes were getting higher and more intimidating. Plus, getting rejected would be a horrible way to start a new year. He had enough bad luck, he couldn’t handle any more.

“Fuck...” he groaned under his breath, running his hands through his hair and down his face.

“Do I need to pull out the swear jar from when you were ten?”

Stiles nearly broke his neck while whipping his head to look at the man standing in the doorway of his bedroom. “Dad? What- I mean, uh, no. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be doing your sheriff duties and arresting middle-aged drunk uncles?”

“I’m leaving for the station in a few hours, it’s only noon.” Noah wasn’t too excited to lead to night shift, especially on New Year’s Eve, and Stiles’ lips made a thin line when he realized that most people weren’t drunk yet. “Why are you so tense?”

“I’m not tense!” he spit back, a little too quickly, earning him raised eyebrows from his father. Stiles relaxed his shoulders as he attempted to make a smooth recovery. “I’m just mentally preparing for all of the self-improvement I’m going to be doing tomorrow.”

The sheriff remained unamused and disbelieving. “Like what?”

“Like... jazzercise?” Stiles winced as soon as he said such an absurd fib, knowing well that it wouldn’t get him out of his interrogation.

“Really? You too?”

The boy’s jaw dropped. There was no way... “Wait, what?”

Smirking, just like his son had done countless times, and turning to walk down the hall, he said, “I better not have to arrest you too tonight.”

Stiles let out a breath of relief and called out after him. “I’ll be on my best behavior! Don’t you worry, Pops!”

With clammy hands, he drove to Scott’s house, already losing time because he was running late. He may have cut himself while attempting to shave the peach fuzz on his chin, and there was a lot of blood. Embarrassing for him, but his intentions to look his best for the biggest night of his life thus far were undoubtedly sweet.

Parking against the curb across the street, he recognized the other cars around him, signifying that he was the last to arrive. The clock was ticking way too fast. He didn’t want to believe that it was already 9:38, but he sort of had to. He had shit to do.

He took a long swig of water from the plastic bottle that had been festering in the cupholder for who knows how long, took a deep breath, and swung his door open. Marching up to the front door, he tried to shake the anxiety out through his hands and focused on taking more deep breaths, but suddenly he was sweating all over and his mouth was dry yet again. These side effects made him shake his head and roll his eyes at himself. He’d known this girl forever, the worst she could say was no. Or laugh in his face...

He slapped his own cheek and whispered harshly, “Get it together, Stiles. Be a man. It’s just a few little words. You’ve had all year to do this. You’ve done enough preparing. Be a man.”

At last, he stepped into his best friend’s home and saw everyone seated around the coffee table, playing Uno with two decks: Aiden, Isaac, Allison, and Ethan were relaxed on the couch as Scott, Kira, Malia, Mason, Liam, and Stiles’ favorite gal sat on pillows and cushions on the floor. Well, except for Malia – she “didn’t care about a hard floor” and “grew up on them.”

“Stiles! You’re here!” That pretty voice and smile caught his attention. “Here, come sit with me, you can just be on my ‘team’ until this game is over,” she said, scooting over and making room for him on her cushion.

His heart just about melted and he quickly sat down next to her, against her, which sent tingles through his body.

The game continued, but all he wanted to do was demand that everyone leave them alone so he could spill his guts and beg for a date. He was beginning to feel a bit hot and queasy, and he repeatedly checked the time as the minutes slowly passed. However, he watched her closely during her turns and quietly whispered strategy advice over her shoulder to aid her in disposing of her cards. Hearing her whisper back, raving about how smart he was made him blush furiously.

“Hey, what happened to your chin?” she asked while Allison played her turn.

Stiles looked at her with confusion at first. “My what?” Realization washed over him as his fingertips brushed over the tender mark left behind from his earlier incident. The fact that she noticed made his face turn another shade darker. “Oh, that. It’s nothing. Basically a paper cut.”

“Basically?”

“Kind of. Almost.”

“Almost a paper cut? How does paper almost cut you and still leave a mark?” she said, a smile growing on her face.

Chuckling, he gave in. “Alright, fine. I cut myself while shaving. But I swear it wasn’t my fault. The razor just came at me out of nowhere!”

Hearing her laugh at his dumb joke made him grin like a doofus (a cute doofus).

“Wow, I didn’t know you even knew how to shave. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“Hey! I’ve been shaving for years, you just haven’t noticed because I’m so skilled at it. I’m as precise as a ninja.”

“Clearly not, since you cut yourself,” she pointed out, smirking.

“I told you; it was the razor!”

After a couple more games of Uno, the group diverted into other activities: chatting, dancing, snacking, arm wrestling, etc. But every time Stiles could pull away and hunt her down, someone would drag her into another conversation or game of Connect 4. Usually, he wouldn’t mind yanking a person wherever he wanted, however, that look of joy she wore made it impossible for his hands to reach out.

Additionally, a stronger feeling of guilt was creeping over him. The fear of somehow violating her and making her feel uncomfortable with their friendship formed a blackhole in his stomach. He couldn’t bear being responsible for flipping her whole world upside down. What if she didn’t want to see him again? Or what if she tells everyone that he’s a creep? What if he has to disappear forever?

Of course, these scenarios he was conjuring were completely unrealistic; he knew that because he knew her. He knew almost everything there was to know about her. He studied her soul with interest and delight because she was so enticing and alluring to him. She was like a beautiful mystical creature who blessed him with companionship. Though, as the time inched closer to his deadline, he seemed to lose his sense of reality.

Before he knew it, the pack was gathering around the TV, watching the countdown on the local News, and finding a couch, chair, or fireplace to jump off of and into the New Year. Stiles’ heart was thumping and he felt faint. He was pulled up onto the couch by the hood of his jacket, and he looked over to see that pretty smile again, but he only frowned as people began counting down.

“10, 9...”

“Stiles?”

With a shaky jaw, he bit his lip.

“...8, 7...”

“What’s wrong?”

“...6, 5, 4...”

“Stiles-”

“...3, 2...”

“Will you go out with me?” he finally blurted, feeling hot tingles rush through him in waves.

Her jaw went slack.

“...1! Happy New Year!”

Everyone jumped down and cheered in celebration, blissfully unaware of the thick air surrounding the pair who awkwardly stepped down from the couch.

Stiles stared at her blank face before deciding to let his stupid hopes and dreams die in that living room. He didn’t want to keep looking into those eyes with the knowledge of the inevitable consequences that would soon be coming his way.

She glanced around and saw a couple kisses being shared, but when her gaze returned to Stiles, he was turning away, preparing to walk out of there as quickly as possible. Letting her instincts take over, she grabbed his shoulders, turned him around and placed a sweet but firm kiss on his cheek.

The boy’s eyes widened and his face and neck turned bright red, once again.

“Yes, I will go out with you.” She beamed at him with rosy cheeks.

Stiles kept staring at her with wide eyes until he cleared his throat and somewhat pulled himself together. “Oh, yeah, cool. That’s, um, really cool.”

“Cool? Stiles, I’ve been waiting forever for you to ask me out, and now that you have, all you’re saying is ‘cool’?”

His eyebrows shot up, realizing how insanely inappropriate his reaction was. “Oh my god, I am such an idiot, that is not what I meant at all, I swear-” He stopped suddenly. “Wait. You’ve been waiting for me to ask you out forever?”

She simply smiled at him again. “Happy New Year, Stiles.”