#dylan n

[caitlinsinterlude]

jeff buckley in an interview about bob dylan writing for nina simone. bob dylan’s wrote sad-eyed lady about sara.

[mysticallystilinski]

FEELING [ stiles x fem! reader ]

desc. STILES CAN’T KEEP HIS HANDS OFF YOUR BODY

has : SMUT 17+, fingering, very clingy stiles, tit sucking, tit playing, sub!reader, heavy teasing, whimper!kink.

“please stiles”, you moan out as he rubs against your body. it has been days since he has even came close to touching you. it was an understatement on how badly you needed him. his large hands run up and down your delicate body. he grinned in excitement at any little whimper that comes out of you.

“be patient”, he whispers in your ear. his heavy breath coming that close to you was enough to make you cum. you had no articles of clothing taken off you quite yet, but you knew soon enough he would have to cave in. you push off his torso and place your feet on the cold floor.

you lower your hands to the rim of your shirt, and proceed to pull it off in a quick flash. stiles sat on the bed, practically mind blown at this sudden boost of confidence. you walked closer to him as you heard his breathing pattern get quicker.

stiles had a certain feeling that you were putting on a false show. he tugged onto the waistband of your pants, and pulled you closer in between his legs. he looked up at you with those soft brown eyes. “why are you acting like this sweetheart”, he groaned out. your words got caught in the back of your throat as he slowly stood up and placed you to the side.

he looked down upon you in lust as you scanned his large figure. his brown eyes almost certainly turned to black as he grabbed your shoulders and sat you down upon the bed. he now stood above you while you were in the opposite position as before. he got onto his knees, and slowly ran his hands up and down your thighs.

“stiles please, don’t tease”, you practically whimpered. he interlocked his fingers into your waistband, and slid the soft flannel pants down your legs and to the side of the bed. he was now approached with your light red panties. he slowly moved his head toward your core, took his mouth and dug his teeth upon them.

he smirked as you looked down onto him in waiting. he lowered his head as the panties followed along with him intertwined in his teeth. he dug his fingers into your things as he made his away along your silky legs. he reached the bottom and discarded your sweet panties. stiles mind filled with all the things he wanted to do with you. he thought first about fingering you, then slowly moving onto other things.

he lifted his head up, and saw your facial expression. it was a mix of impression and excitement. your smile lit up the room as stiles started to giggle as he got closer to your heat. he used his large hands to spread your thighs apart, and lowered his head closer. his fingers untangled your thighs and moved to your throbbing pussy.

he slowly inserted one finger, then heard a gasp for air. you whimpered as his long finger headed deeper inside of you. he took it slightly out, and inserted one more finger. your head was thrown back in pleasure as he slowly pumped both fingers in and out. you felt him get closer to you as his fingers continued to glide in and out at the perfect speed.

your body filled with tingles as he increased his speed. one hand was gripping your boob, while the other was heading inside of you. you quickly moved and scrambled as his fingers hit just the right spot. he slowly used the hand on your boob to play with your nipple, slightly pinching it for a pleasurable feeling.

your body was feeling hot and heavy while stiles slowly talked you up to an orgasm. “you’re doing so good y/n”, he spoke. you gasped in shock and pleasure when he said those five words. “please cum for me”, he groaned out. you saw his eyes focused on your wet pussy when he looked up and smirked in a devilish way.

he held eye contact with you as he spoke softly, “baby you look so good taking my fingers.” your head filled with the things he was doing to you, and how good it felt. your core tightened as you felt the moment coming. he hit your g-spot one last time, and you collapsed. cum overflowed out of you as stiles latched his mouth onto your pussy.

he sucked up all he could, and gripped onto your thighs with both hands. you saw him look up at you with his lustful eyes. his tongue delved all around your area as he grinned. he lifted his head and moved his body so that he was on top of you. he lowered his head to your boob as slightly used his tongue to head around the area of your nipple.

stiles couldn’t help but groan as your body smelled sweet. his tongue clenched around your hard nipple, and you moaned out in peace. he slightly chuckled at your noise, but still was focused. he unlatched his mouth, and slightly placed his lips onto yours. he pulled back, “i want you to taste yourself.” your eyes widened but you complied as he stuck his tongue into your mouth. your eyes got heavier as he slid his hand up your bare body.

he made out with you to help you release some tension. you felt on cloud nine as your soft lips intertwined with yours. he removed his lips, and slowly smirked. “what are you up to stilinski?”, you groaned and rolled your eyes.

“round 2?”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

a little fashion show

kinktober, day four

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

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

word count: 990

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

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm,” he nearly groaned. 

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

“Y-yeah…”

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

“Anything,” flowed from his lips nearly instantly.

“Would you have sex with me?”

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

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

“Would I-… I’m sorry, what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[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.

[sundrop-writes]

BRAINWASHED

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Everything’s clean - except for my thoughts. (Thinking about me getting you off.)

Can’t stop thinking you got me B R A I N W A S H E D .

Summary:

Stiles likes you. He really, really, really likes you. It's bordering on obsession, but he likes to believe that he has it under control.

So when you accidentally leave a pair of your panties in his presence, ripe for the taking, and they're in his backpack faster than he can blink - he realizes that he might not have it as under control as he would like to think. But he can't find it to be too much of a problem when he has those panties wrapped around his cock.

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Pining!Stiles/One Sided Fantasies. Panty Stealing. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 8,000

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as having a vagina; Stiles and the reader have been best friends since childhood and they are in high school now (they are both the same age) (for argument's sake, they are both 18, but the horny parts were motivated by the hotness of a 20-something actor so idc what age you interpret the characters as); the reader's looks are mostly undescribed and left neutral in terms of race, hair texture/colour, height, etc. however the reader is implied to be fat/plus sized; mentions of the reader wearing dresses and tights (things that the other characters on the show would typically wear); mentions of the reader having a cat - I did not give the cat a name so you can imagine it's the same as your cat's name/what you would want your cat to be called if you had one; use of Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); brief mention that the reader would like wearing bikinis; the reader calls Stiles 'good boy' in non-sexual contexts and it turns him on; mentions of Stiles looking up the reader's skirt when she doesn't know it; some slight dubious consent because Stiles steals the reader's underwear without her consent and uses them in a sexual act (his masturbation); masturbation (Stiles touching himself); this is a one-sided/pining fic - all the sexual acts take place inside Stiles's mind as sexual fantasies while he masturbates; the reader character is described in these sexual acts as they play out in his mind, so that's why she is included heavily in the warnings; Stiles is submissive (even in his own fantasies) and he fantasies about the reader being dominant toward him; Stiles becoming aroused by the idea of the reader not shaving her pussy; technically there is edging - because Stiles edges himself to make his fantasies last longer; panty sniffing (though the panties Stiles took are freshly launder and not used ones); scent kink/sweat kink - Stiles likes the way you smell, including your sweat; kinks and sexual acts mentioned only in Stiles's fantasies (taking place only in his mind in this fic): car sex (in the back of the Jeep (typical, I know)), fingering (reader receiving), degradation kink (Stiles receiving - he likes the idea of the reader insulting him and being mean to him); pussy eating (Stiles fantasizes in depth about this); Reader makes a joke about spanking Stiles and Stiles has a small fantasy about being spanked by her; I think that's finally it.

A/N: Title for the fic comes from the song Brainwashed by Waterparks. Warning - Stiles might be a bit OOC in this because I wrote it before I started re-watching Teen Wolf again (and before I started watching Season 1 for the first time, because previously I had only seen 3B and beyond). In this, I have said that he's flunking classes and he's not really great with studying, while in the show, he's really smart and bookish and really well studied - but it could just be chalked up to the fact that he has a huge crush on the Reader that is distracting him from studying. So, interpret it how you want. I hope that you enjoy it, and please read through to my end notes to find out about a potential sequel to the fic!!

...

Stiles was hopeless. 

That was the only way to describe his current state of being. Completely, utterly hopeless. 

He was a complete and total loser, hopelessly in love with his best friend. And he was getting more stupidly caught up in that crush every single day. And of course, he didn’t even have the courage to admit his feelings for you so that it could be awkwardly out in the open. So that the two of you could get the rejection part over with, at least. 

Basically - his feelings for you were slowly ruining his life. 

Stiles had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Well, maybe not that long. 

See, you, him, and Scott had all been friends since the beginning of kindergarten, and naturally, Stiles always liked you as a person. He always thought of you as a good friend, even if he gravitated toward Scott more.  

But he distinctly remembered the first moment when he had started to develop a crush on you. It was a very special memory to him - the day when you shifted in his eyes from annoying, slightly nagging friend to a beautiful, fierce woman. 

It was the day when the three of you were out on Halloween night during the third grade - and that was around the time people started whispering about crushes in school, when people would have playground girlfriends and boyfriends that they broke up with every other week. That night, a group of eighth grade bullies began chasing the three of you, trying to take your candy. 

Without hesitation, you picked up the largest rock in sight and threw it at one of them, causing a large cut across his forehead - and you loudly told them to ‘fuck off’ (the first time Stiles had ever heard such a word when it wasn’t coming from his dad). They had run away, somehow terrified of a girl a foot shorter than them. 

That night, you had become his hero. 

And since then, you had been the only object of his affections. 

Of course, over the years, Stiles had plenty of opportunities to tell you about his feelings for you. He just… always felt too cowardly to do so. 

In seventh grade, he had come very close to asking you out to the winter dance - only to have Scott beat him to the punch. When he pulled Scott aside to ask him about it, Scott confessed to him that he also had a crush on you. This resulted in their first ever fistfight. The first ever true rift in their otherwise close, brotherly friendship. 

The boys didn’t speak to each other for days. Which, naturally, annoyed the hell out of you. Especially because, of course, neither of them told you why they were fighting, not wanting you to know that you were the source of the rift in their friendship. And to you, this only made the fight seem more stupid and immature. 

So finally, when you demanded it, they called a truce. They agreed that they didn’t want to lose their friendship or lose you. They didn’t want to make you choose between them when it wouldn’t make any of you happy. 

So Stiles proposed that the three of you should go to the dance as friends, which you loved, and they both got you a corsage, one for each wrist - and the three of you still laughed at the pictures of you holding each of their arms. 

Eventually, Scott grew out of his crush on you and moved onto other girls, and he loved that he got to keep you as a close best friend, someone he could go to for dating advice if needed. Scott kept trying to convince Stiles to simply ‘man up’ and tell you about his feelings, but Stiles kept that same sentiment they had concluded upon years ago. Telling you about his feelings would only ruin the friendship. Not just between you, but between the entire group - it would fuck up the pack. 

Though it felt like the more he tried to ignore his feelings for you, the more they festered like a tumor. While Scott was able to mature past his crush on you, Stiles only grew more intense, and more insane when it came to his ‘crush’ on you. 

Over the years, his crush on you had grown from something sweet and childish into something much more. When puberty truly took over and lust was added into the mix, he now had to deal with the fact that you had grown into a gorgeous woman. He could barely control his arousal when looking at you, hearing your voice, smelling you, talking to you, thinking about you - even simply being in your presence made something in his mind melt. And it was growing much worse with each passing day. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t wake up with a raging boner fueled by sexual dreams of you. 

And naturally, he would say that not telling you about his feelings for you was ultimately the best thing for him. He would steadfastly refuse to admit that him being distracted by all these fantasies of you was slowly eroding your friendship from the inside out. Slowly, bit by bit, his worst fears were coming true - your friendship was being ruined by his crush anyway. 

But he tried to ignore that. Even if you were the most gorgeous, perfect being ever put on the planet, he tried his hardest to simply enjoy the platonic version of you. He tried to act like he wasn’t stupidly, head over heels in love with you. 

He tried not to act like it. 

But on nights like this, it was just so hard. 

Tonight, the two of you were studying for an upcoming English mid-term that would be worth a decent portion of your final grade. 

Logically, Stiles knew that he should have locked himself in his room and forced himself to study independently. Or he should have taken up Scott on his offer to study with him and Allison. 

But no, he just had to ask you for your ‘help’. 

And you pitied him and said yes, because he was doing poorly in the class. The only reason for that being because it was one of the classes that he shared with you, and he spent all of his damn time staring at you across the room during it. He had tried to tell himself that he really would study tonight, that he would really take advantage of your intelligence here and now to get his shit together in order to up his grade. 

But no. That was just one of many daily lies that he told himself. Since the moment he had set foot in your bedroom that afternoon (and it was dark out now, well into the evening) - he hadn’t been able to focus on anything but you. 

Sure, sometimes that worked to his benefit. Hearing you recite Shakespeare, the words coming off your sweet lips - it did force him to focus on the material at hand for at least a short period of time. But it wasn’t like he was actually retaining any of it. He was just thinking about how gorgeous your voice sounded and how amazing you would be in an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. One where he played Romeo, of course - and he would get to use someone else’s well-crafted words to romance you, finally getting to kiss you for the first time. 

Again - he was hopeless. 

Currently, Stiles was laying diagonally on your bed, sitting among a mess of books - the English textbooks, the assigned novels, the published copies of the play, along with binders of your notes and other notebooks, stray papers. He couldn’t pay attention to the notes he was supposed to be writing, not for a moment, not if his life depended on it. Not when you looked this stunningly beautiful while busy writing your own notes. 

With the soft lighting from your bedside lamp brushing across your skin, making that skin look even softer, you were a goddess-like vision sitting on the bed across from him. You were wearing the simple dress that you had worn to school earlier that day, your modest tights since shed off in the name of ‘comfort’ (and so that your cat wouldn’t rip holes in them while crawling across your lap, you had remarked to Stiles). When you had stood at your hamper and peeled them off your legs, Stiles had a hard time not letting the drool spill out across his chin. 

Your thighs were gorgeous. Thick, wide, spread out like a buffet for his eyes to feast on every single time you sat down. From his angle, laying down the way he was, he was up close and personal with the dimpling cellulite and stretchmarks you had there. The hem of your dress had ridden up when you had adjusted your position to get comfortable, and he felt absolutely spoiled by how much more of your thighs were revealed to him. 

A few times throughout the evening, he had to physically clench his fingers, tight, to remind himself not to reach out and touch. To remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to touch. The last thing he wanted to do was to creep you out by randomly reaching out and touching your thigh. But he wanted so badly to touch. 

How many times had he imagined what those thighs would look like bouncing and jiggling while you rode his cock? How many times had he imagined those thighs clamped around his head while he licked your pussy? (Far too many times for the good of his own sanity.) 

Not to mention the concentration spread across your face - you were so fucking hot when you showed off your intelligence. Hell everything about you was hot - your sweetness, your laughter, your sarcasm, even your bitchy side. But your bookish side had to be one of Stiles’s favorites. 

The way you would nibble your own lip when thinking, the way your brows furrowed slightly in thought. Everything about you - from the bra strap sticking out of the neckline of your dress to the chipped edge of your nail polish where you had chewed on it - you were a fucking vision. And Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off you, no matter how hard he tried. 

It was a wonder that you didn’t notice Stiles staring at you - not as often as he did it. 

Stiles felt strangely caught when you put down your pen and looked up from your notebook, then. He quickly scrambled to grab his own pencil and start writing something, to look busy. But of course, he just looked like more of an idiot when the eraser end began scraping across the page in nonsense patterns. 

“Stiles,” You scolded him with a sigh, a way he was used to hearing his name come off your lips. “Have you gotten anything done? I told you to copy down at least half my notes-” 

Of course. You pegged his blank page as simple laziness, rather than his brain slowly melting out through his ears due to his inability to think about anything but you (especially when he was in the same room as you). At least he hadn’t been caught staring at you in that creepy way yet. 

You snatched up his notebook to check his work, and his heart dropped - if you looked too carefully, then he would be caught. In the back of that notebook, there were about three pages of his name and yours in hearts, and a few times he had practiced writing his signature as ‘Mr Stiles L/N’. (He was a feminist, and he liked the idea of starting a new tradition.) There was even a drawing he had made designing your theoretical wedding cake, including a cake topper where he was Superman and you were riding on his back while he was flying. 

“Y/N, uh-” 

He quickly snatched the notebook back, causing a glare from you while he sighed in defeat. 

“Fine.” He shrugged, knowing that he had to admit to a smaller crime in order to cover up the larger one. It was something that he did with his father all too often. “I didn’t get anything done. I was slacking off. You caught me.” 

“Stiles!” You scolded him again, reaching out to gently smack his shoulder. “If you keep this shit up, you’re never gonna graduate!” 

Sadly, you were probably right. His crush on you was absolutely going to ruin him. 

“Well, you could just let me copy off you,” He replied, giving you a wide grin that let you know he was mostly kidding. 

You rolled your eyes in reply, and soon your gaze caught sight of the clock on your nightstand. 

“Well, it seems like you have wasted enough of my time for tonight.” You scoffed sarcastically. 

Stiles knew that you had intended this to be a joke - but he couldn’t help the twinge of pain the words caused in his gut. The idea that he was truly just a waste of time in your life. He pressed his lips tightly together to suppress a frown and didn’t say anything more, and then you continued. 

“It’s almost your curfew anyway.” You pointed out, gesturing toward the clock. You were right. Stiles hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting - too busy enjoying his time with you. “We’ll pack it up for the night - but you should meet me at the library tomorrow morning, early, so we can go over everything again before the exam.” 

Of course, you were still invested in the idea of him getting a good grade, even if that seemed unlikely to happen. 

“You’re gonna make me get up early?” He whined, hating the idea of missing out on even ten extra minutes of sleep. 

“Yes.” You stressed. “I want you there at seven o’clock. Sharp.” 

Your ultra serious voice ordering him around was undeniably a turn-on for him. No matter what sexual fantasies Stiles cooked up about you in his mind, he could never picture himself having full control over you. In fact, most of the time, he found himself covered in cum at the idea of you having complete control over him. And it was likely because this was how most of your friendship went - you told him what to do, and he did it. And that was a huge part of why he fell for you in the first place. 

When he didn’t verbally confirm the time, too caught up in his infatuation yet again, you let out a gentle growl of frustration. 

“Stiles!” You called out his name. “You have to be there at seven. So you can’t get out of bed at seven - you have to set your alarm for like six-thirty, got it? Don’t make me come over there and get your ass out of bed like last time.” 

This thought caused Stiles’s stomach to clench. 

The last time you had come to his house to wake him up for school (because he had agreed to help you with some bakesale project and you were pissed off that he wasn’t there early to help you set up tables and whatnot) - you had charged into his house in a fury. You had your own key, of course, and his dad wasn’t there to busy you with conversation or pleasantries. 

And you charged right up the stairs and nearly caught him with a hand around his cock, jerking off to a picture of you in a bikini from the summer before. And he had rushed to shove the picture in his nightstand and cocoon himself in the comforter to hide his body just as you made it to the top of the stairs, shouting at him for being late. Luckily, he had gotten away with the lie that he had slept in, rather than revealing the truth that he had been distracted because he had woken up with morning wood after having a heated dream about you. 

When Stiles didn’t respond yet again, you grabbed a smaller decorative pillow from behind you and lightly hit him with it for emphasis, causing him to burst into laughter. 

“Promise me you’ll be on time!” You said, smacking him with the pillow again. 

“Yes, yes! I promise!” He finally agreed, his face becoming pink from laughter. 

You dropped the pillow then, and leaned down, causing his eyes to inadvertently go straight to your cleavage while you gave him a gentle, friendly kiss on the forehead. 

“Good boy.” You responded, praising him for agreeing to your terms. Obviously, it was another joke. 

But these praising words combined with your lips even slightly brushing against his skin, along with your tits dangling so close to his face, had his cock swelling to hardness nearly instantly. He grabbed the pillow then, trying to look subtle as he put it over his crotch, desperately trying to hide the very obvious bulge that had popped up at the front of his jeans within seconds. 

He was lucky when you shifted your attention away from him, now busy with cleaning off the bed, gathering your textbooks in a pile and moving to put them on your desk in the corner. You being distracted gave him a few moments to try and mentally will his dick down, which worked slightly. Only slightly. 

“You could help me, you know.” You mocked him lightly - distracting him from his thoughts of baseball, trying to will the blood out of his cock. 

He looked up and saw you standing there with his backpack, putting away his textbooks and notebooks now. He had been so dumbly distracted by his own dick that he hadn’t noticed you taking the kind initiative to clean up his things for him too. 

“Right, sorry.” He jumped into action and did so, taking things from your hands and shoving them into his bag with haste. 

“You don’t have to rush out, I just need the bed cleared off so I can pick out my clothes for tomorrow.” You told him. 

“Wait - you actually pick out your clothes in advance?” He asked, thinking that this was entirely adorable, and explained why you were always so well dressed. 

(And it explained why you were always so punctual in the mornings while Stiles was usually a mess - running around his house still half-asleep, shoving his head into a shirt that he had sniffed to see if it was clean, shoving things frantically into his bag in order to get out the door five minutes late.) 

“Well you know not all of us are okay with just throwing on last week’s mustard stained tee shirt,” You said, playfully pointing to a mustard stain that he had on his shirt from lunch. 

He rolled his eyes in return, trying to ignore the slight twist of embarrassment that wanted to swell up inside of him at the comment. 

There had been a point where he used to make a very pointed effort to impress you. Back when his crush on you had first gotten serious - likely around the beginning of high school. He used to get up early every single morning, spending a lot of time being intensely picky about the clothes he wore. He drowned himself in cologne (until you had complained about it), he wore certain colors just because you mentioned liking them. But none of it seemed to garner any more of your attention than usual. 

And so, he resigned himself to be the loser best friend who would always just float at the corners of your life, drowning in his secret affection for you until some better, hotter guy came along and swept you off your feet one day. 

He was just glad that day hadn’t come yet. 

Stiles was hesitant to leave - he wasn’t done being around you for the day yet, too emotionally attached. But he guessed that he would need to get some decent sleep before waking up at the asscrack of dawn in order to see more of you the next morning. (Even if it would include the horrors of studying at the library.) 

“So - I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” He posed, ready to take his leave as he swung his backpack over his shoulder. 

“Ooh, wait one second.” You said, eagerness twinging through your voice. 

His heart pounded hard in his chest for a moment, wondering if this could be the moment he had been waiting so long for - would you stop him there, grab him by the shoulders and kiss him hard, and then tell him that you had been feeling the exact same way as he had for all these years? 

“Which one?” You asked, spinning around from your closet to face him, holding up two dresses on hangers. 

Oh. You were asking for his opinion about what you should wear to school the next day. 

“The blue one.” Stiles said, motioning towards it. “That shade of blue looks beautiful on you - it compliments your skin tone well, and it makes you shine. But ya know, you look gorgeous in everything. You could wear a paper bag to school and everyone would still be jealous of how amazing you look.” 

He rambled on for a moment too long, and realized that his genuine fondness for you - something straying too far into romantic territory - was slipping out. 

“But - uh, yeah. I’ll see you later.” He quickly added on, now eager to leave before you could make any further comments. 

Then he dashed out of your room and down the stairs, getting out the front door so fast that he practically left a poof of cartoon dust behind him. 

He got into the Jeep and tossed his bag into the passenger’s seat - which, he hadn’t realized was not even zipped up. (A habit you often scolded him for - going around with his bag unzipped.) Papers and books spilled across the seat and underneath it, and he let out a loud growl of frustration. 

“Idiot!” He screamed, scolding himself as he leaned down, trying to clean everything up. “Idiot, idiot, idiot!” 

Partially, he was feeling so idiotic because he had just been so vulnerable with you and you probably thought he was weird for it. Actually, that was mostly why. 

As he was picking up his things, he realized that - yup, he was missing his English textbook. He had forgotten it in your room. He heaved out a sigh and collapsed back against his seat. He could leave without it - but then he would get an earful from you in the morning about how he was ‘forgetful’ and ‘irresponsible’. Ugh. 

He got out of the Jeep again and shuffled his way back into your house - your mom was working late, so there was nobody there to question him running out of the house at top speed and then appearing back so soon. All he got was a curious chirp and a head tilt from your cat, who was sitting on the top of the stairs. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Stiles remarked to the animal, stopping for a moment to pet him. “I’m pathetic. But you can’t rat me out, okay? I know she thinks highly of your opinion and I need you to put in a good word for me. Got it?” 

The cat purred and pushed his face into Stiles’s hand, so he assumed that was a positive affirmation that he would root for Stiles - or at the very least, keep his secret. 

Stiles linger for a moment to scratch the cat’s furry cheek, and then he stepped over the cat and made his way back toward your room. He passed the closed bathroom door and heard the shower running, and he almost cheered. If you were in the shower, then you wouldn’t notice him slipping back in to grab his book, so you couldn’t scold him for being a forgetful idiot. 

He went into your room, and the second he made it through the mouth of your open bedroom, his eyes locked onto your bed like a hot target. Your clothes for the following day were spread out so neatly, and right there, on top of the blue dress he had suggested - there was a pair of lacy purple panties that were something right out of one of his fantasies. 

Stiles had thought about your underwear before - many times. Too many times to count. 

He had even caught small, passing glimpses of your underwear before - when you had worn dresses without tights and bent over in front of him. But he had only seen enough of it to determine the color, not to know if it was lacy or silk or cotton. And even that was enough to send him into a tailspin that had him rushing to the bathroom to relieve his aching cock. 

In the back of his mind - or truly, the forefront of his mind whenever he jerked off to thoughts of you - he always wondered what kind of underwear you wore. What kind of decorative wrapping your pretty pussy would come in if he ever got the other-worldly privilege of getting his hands up your skirt. 

Would they be simple, practical cotton underwear? Would they be cute? Would they be sinfully sexy? Would they be those underwear with the days of the week written across the front? 

But seeing this now - seeing the tangible evidence in front of him that you actually planned to wear purple lacy lingerie to school - it was something that had all sense draining from his mind as blood rushed to his cock once again. He barely had time to think about it - and he didn’t think about it. Because then, they were in his hands, in his pocket, and he was back in the Jeep, hiding his stolen goods in his bag and hastily zipping it up so he could slam his foot on the gas and race home. 

He didn’t even have a chance to think about the fact that he left without the textbook that he had gone back into your room looking for. He didn’t have the attention span to notice that said textbook was in a stack along with your own - almost as if purposefully kept there like an excuse to lure him back into your room, rather than clumsily forgotten by him. 

… 

When Stiles got into his room, he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, now entirely frantic, and thankful that his father was working a late shift again. He sat down on the edge of his bed, his hands shaking with anticipation as he unzipped his bag and pulled out the thing he had so hastily snagged. 

His mind was warring with so many sensations. Guilt for taking the panties, paranoia that he would get caught, shame that he even had the urge to take them in the first place - but all of that was easily toppled over and forgotten in the name of lust. Overwhelming lust and arousal that he felt for you. Greed and joy at knowing that he had something so private of yours in his hands now - something so secret that he shouldn’t have. A perfect little piece of you. 

His little secret piece of you. 

He still couldn’t believe that this was the kind of underwear you wore on a daily basis. 

Just imagining that this was what you wore to school - thinking about the fact that this was what you were wearing under your clothes during your everyday interactions with him: it drove him wild. 

He easily pictured this pretty lace sticking to your cunt when you were wet, the lavender colored material getting slick and slightly darker, soaked through and visibly sticky when you spread your legs for him to see. He wondered if your pussy would be shaved or not - but you didn’t have a boyfriend, so currently, you didn’t have anybody to shave for. 

He remembered a conversation from a few weeks ago where Scott had wondered if he should shave his pubes for Allison and you had remarked that ‘putting a razor near your junk’ was ‘ill-advised and stupid’ - so you probably didn’t even like shaving your pussy on principle. 

This immediately put a picture in his mind of your pussy being covered in soft hair that matched the shade on your head - maybe a bit darker. It would clump together with your juices and become soaked when you got wet. The little hairs would probably stick out cutely from the sides of the bikini cut underwear, peeking at him. 

Your pussy would be the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he knew that for certain. 

Stiles imagined getting you in the backseat of the Jeep one night after a game. 

He would still be covered in sweat from his efforts, worn out from trying his best. Sure, he wasn’t the best player, but you wanted to ‘reward’ him for his efforts on the winning side, even if he hadn’t directly contributed to the win. 

So as soon as the game was over, before he even had time to change out of his pads or shower, you hauled him to the parking lot and shoved him into the car. His gear was only half-off, ditched hastily by your feet, and you were in his lap - a perfect prize after all the hard work he had done, sitting astride his already sore thigh muscles while you kissed him - hard. Your mouth greedily sucked the oxygen out of his lungs while you shoved your tongue past his lips, painting his tongue with your sweet spit - and fuck, it felt like he was made for this. 

He got sucked so deep into the fantasy - it felt so damn real. 

He imagined having his hands splayed out against your beautiful, plump ass, gripping you tightly, noting wanting you to separate from him for even a section. While you held on tightly to his face, sealing him into the kiss until his lips were sore. And you would only pull back to look into his eyes with glossy desperation and utter out: 

“Please, Stiles. I need you. I need you to touch my pussy.” 

And what else could he do but obey? 

So he would lift up your skirt - a particularly short skirt that you had worn with nothing else but a pair of knee-high socks. Something that you knew he loved to see you cheer for him on the sidelines while wearing. Even though it was a chilly night, you couldn’t feel too cold when you saw him glancing at you every single chance he got. Of course, those distracted stares had gotten him screamed at by Coach more than once. But he loved the way your skirt would flutter up in the nighttime breeze, teasing him. The way the fucking beautiful thick fat of your thighs would jiggle whenever you would jump around in order to cheer him on. 

He was a man of simple, divine tastes. 

So - he would lift up that perfect skirt to find those purple lacy panties underneath; to find the perfection of your wet cunt waiting for him, growing slicker by the second, more needy for him. You were humping yourself against his athletic cup, which his hard cock was practically dying inside of, bursting to get out of the hard shell of plastic to touch you. But he ignored his own needs for a few minutes longer in favor of yours. Reaching forward, sliding his fingers along the wet spot at the front of your panties, absolutely indulging in the beautiful gasp you let out when his touch grazed across your swollen clit through the fabric. 

“Stiles, please.” 

He could almost hear it - it was so fucking clear inside his mind. The way your voice would be so pitched with desperation, so perfectly needy curled around his name. He wanted so badly to hear it in real life. 

And he would push those panties to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your hot, wet cunt-

Back in the real world, Stiles’s cock gave a needy pulse, leaking into his boxers. 

He heaved out a sigh, his cock practically vibrating with blood. He had driven home the whole time trying to ignore that boner, but he simply couldn’t do that anymore. He just had to give in. 

He hesitantly put your panties aside - already feeling a strange sense of attachment to them - and reached to his nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube that he had in the drawer. Shamefully, it was already half empty, mostly due to the fantasies that he had about you. He undid his pants and had them around his ankles in record time, and whipped off his shirt for good measure, knowing that he was quite a ‘splasher’ and not wanting to get cum on it to pair with that ugly mustard stain. 

He lubed up his cock more than a healthy amount, knowing that it would contribute to the fantasy of you being so wet around him. It was a distant fantasy that he would never actually get to achieve, but hell - a man can dream. Then he began to slowly pump his cock in hand, wanting to milk it and truly enjoy it, and he let his mind get back to work. 

He thought back to your place. A place he was comfortable, spent a lot of time at hanging out with you. 

He imagined that early that night when he had forgotten his book, rather than you being in the shower, he went back to your room and found that you had been getting ready for bed. You were rubbing sweet-smelling lotion on your arms, pulling back the covers, wearing nothing but a pair of cute little socks, a tiny camisole - where he could very visibly see that you weren’t wearing a bra, with the natural teardrop shape of your breasts bared to the eye, your nipples poking through the fabric - and those purple lace panties. 

When he would appear in the doorway, you would gawk at him and ask: 

“Stiles? What are you doing? Did you… forget something?” 

But you would be positioned half leaning over the bed, taking back the covers so it would be comfortable for you to sleep - and your ass would be unintentionally on full display. Your sweet pussy lips peeking at him from behind, the roundness of your ass so fucking inviting, daring him to leave bite marks across the beautifully fat flesh. 

And after a few moments of him staring so brazenly, saying nothing, simply drinking in the gorgeous sight of your body bent over, wearing so little clothing, wearing those perfect little lace panties-

(Stiles sped up his hand on his cock, the lube sounding downright sloppy in the silence of the room.) 

You would stand up to your full height, come to him in the doorway, put your face so close to his and say: 

“If you’re gonna spend so much time staring at me like a gaping idiot, then you should do something about it.” 

Stiles had to stop the swift movements of his hand and clutch his grip tightly around the base of his cock, making his entire dick throb hard as he edged off his own orgasm. 

He still wasn’t sure why the idea of you calling him an ‘idiot’ in such a brazen tone made him want to cum so hard - but he didn’t have time to unpack all that now. 

He grabbed up the panties again with his non-lubed hand. Something in the back of his mind thought that it would be a crime for him to get them dirty. Another part argued that he would absolutely love to get them covered in his cum, not clean them, and then return them to you. That it would be fucking thrilling to have you wear them in that dirtied state. 

Though he knew that would never fucking happen. 

If he returned the panties to you covered in his cum, then you would slap him, call him a pervert, and likely have Scott beat the shit out of him with his newly harnessed werewolf strength. Stiles pushed this thought to the back of his mind, though. 

Out of curiosity, he lifted the fabric to his nose and took a whiff. They smelled like fresh laundry - a nice lemony detergent. Of course they weren’t ones you had previously worn - they were a pair you had been planning on wearing tomorrow. 

He distantly wondered if that meant you would not be wearing underwear tomorrow, because he had taken your intended pair. And that could have led his mind down a whole different filthy track, but instead - he began to wonder what a pair of your dirty underwear might smell like. 

You should take a pair of used ones. A voice in his mind told him. Snatch them right out of the hamper. Come on, you’re over at her place all the time. She won’t even notice them gone. 

Terrible idea. Terrible rabbit hole. 

But what would they smell like? 

He wasn’t deluded enough to think that pussy smelled like roses. He had never been close enough to one - a real pussy - before to actually know. Yes, he was a virgin. He could have said that he was waiting, ‘saving it’ for you - but every other girl, including you, was smart enough to look past him. There were plenty of other guys who were better looking and more charming than him, and probably better in bed than him, that girls had chosen instead of him. 

He wondered if your pussy smelled like that perfect bit of sweat that you gathered at the end of a long day. Sometimes when he went to hug you before the two of you parted ways, he would catch a whiff of the tiniest undertone of musk, a good amount of sweat paired with the berry scented body spray you had put on that morning, and orange tic-tacs you had popped after lunch. It was a delectable combination. 

He imagined that your cunt would smell like that bit of sweat, combined with the blueberry body wash you used - the one he knew about and loved because of the time you had insisted he use your shower while stinking up a study session because he had skipped the showers after lacrosse practice when he was late to be with you. 

He imagined getting hints of that blueberry body wash smell coming off your thighs when his head was buried between them. What would your cunt taste like? That was a mystery he wanted to solve live. 

He could always imagine the other aspects so well. 

He could imagine the feeling of the heat under his tongue, the perfect feeling of your wetness mixing with his spit. He imagined getting to bounce your swollen clit against his tongue and while feeling your moans and cries of his name vibrate through your body as he pleasured you so well - the feeling of your pubes brushing against his cheeks as his entire face became soaked with your wetness. 

But the taste - that was something he could never conjure up in his mind, no matter how hard he tried. 

He knew that eating your pussy would be perfect. Not just because he would be giving you pleasure, serving you. But he so often dreamed of having his head smothered by your thighs, having you grab his head and shove him tighter into your cunt, you purposeful and demanding. You having that beautiful control over him while he drowned in your wetness. 

He knew that he would likely cum in his pants from eating you out if he ever got the privilege of doing so, and even if you laughed at him - stupidly, he would find that hot too. 

Stiles picked up the pace again, pumping his cock in hand evenly and firmly - even reaching down with the other hand to cradle his balls, gently rolling the flesh in his hand as he got lost in another fantasy of you. 

He imagined the two of you in his bed - textbooks forgotten and pushed off onto the floor, your dress hiked up around your hips, and again, those fucking purple lace panties. He was on top of you, hovering on his knees so that his hard cock wouldn’t brush against you (even through his jeans) while the two of you sloppily made-out. 

It wasn’t long before you pulled away from his kiss-swollen lips. 

“Stiles,” You purred into his ear, kissing along his neck. “You know, you’re so pathetic.” 

These words had his cock jumping, spurting out precum - in his fantasy, it made his underwear messy as you undid his fly. 

In the real world, it made his hand messy as he continued to rhythmically jerk his cock. 

“I’m not gonna let you fuck me.” You told him, contrasting these words with your intentions as you put your hands inside his waistband and shoved his pants and underwear down over his hips - down to his knees until his hard, throbbing cock was exposed. “Not until you prove yourself.” 

Before Stiles could ask the question, the beautiful, fantastic you that he had made up inside his mind gave him the perfect answer. 

“Get yourself off by rubbing your pathetic dick against my panties. And then - I might let you fuck me.” 

In the real world, Stiles let out a throttled moan - a choked sound that surely would have had his father knocking on the door to ask if he was okay if he was at home. And then he rushed to grab the panties again, and without even thinking, he used his sticky lubed up hand to position the fabric around his dick. It was a coarse roughness compared to the slick smoothness he had previously been feeling, but it did wonders to complete his fantasy as he delved back to the you inside of his mind. 

He started rubbing the slightly lube-sticky rough fabric up and down his dick at a very slow pace as he imagined it: 

Being perched between your thighs, with the fabric of the panties stuck to your wet cunt, his cock hard and leaking as he tucked himself right up against you and began to rub his dick against you in order to get off. Just like you wanted, just like you had ordered him to do. 

“Please.” Stiles chanted, the words leaking out of his lips, chanted into his empty bedroom as he pleaded to the imaginary you that would always have a hold over him - just as tight of a hold as the real you had. “Please, please - oh fuck.” 

He moved the fabric over his cock faster as he moved his hips faster in the fantasy, imagining how hot your pussy would feel against him, imagining your nails digging into his hips as you looked up at him with mocking and adoration in your eyes. He imagined you forcing his hips faster, trapping him in place with your knees bracketed around his thighs, showing him absolutely no mercy. 

“Please, please, please.” He chanted, knowing with a distant part of his mind that he must have sounded utterly delirious. “Please, Y/N, lemme cum-” 

“Cum for me, Stiles.” 

Confirmed by that fantasy version of you and truly unable to hold it any longer, Stiles arched up off the bed, cumming all over his own fist. Just as he had predicted, it was an utter, uncontrollable mess. He shot cum all over his stomach, and absolutely soaked the fabric of the panties - making a horrible mess of them. Which, the lube had definitely already done. He laid there for a single moment catching his breath before it truly hit him. 

Fuck. He had fucked up. 

You would definitely notice the underwear missing after a while and he certainly couldn’t return them to you in this condition. 

… 

Stiles spent the next hour in the bathroom, absolutely panicking over how to get them clean. Luckily, he wasn’t a total idiot and he looked up the washing instructions online - and after hand-washing them in warm water with a ‘gentle’ detergent (handsoap was the best that he could do), they came out perfectly clean. 

The only problem? 

Hang to dry. 

He set his alarm for early, earlier than you suggested, and prayed that he wouldn’t sleep through it. In fact, he set three more alarms just to make sure. He couldn’t have you or his father barging into his room to wake him up when he had a pair of your stolen panties pinned to his corkboard in order to properly dry them so that he could sneak them back to you in good condition. 

… 

The next day, he departed for school by 6:45 with the stolen goods hidden away in his bag, ready to sneak them back into your room later that afternoon. He made it to the library ten whole minutes before seven, and you seemed shocked that he was not only on time - but early. 

“Wow.” You said, having just gotten there yourself, spreading out your items at a table - including a tray with some coffees. “You know, Stiles, I am impressed.” 

“You don’t have to act so - so shocked.” He replied, partially interrupted by a yawn. 

You leaned over to get a pen from your bag, and Stiles’s eyes immediately went to your ass, unconsciously trying to spot panty lines through your dress and tights - wondering if you were even wearing underwear because he had stolen the ones you had intended for today. 

Focus, Stiles. Focus. 

“Well, if you weren’t here by seven sharp like I told you, I was gonna pour this in the garbage.” You told him, taking his coffee out of the paper tray and sliding it toward him. 

“You don’t have to be so mean.” He chuckled, airy and light - very secretly annoyed with the way your ‘mean’ streak affected him sometimes. Why did he have to be turned on by you scolding him and punishing him? Why? 

“Hey, if I’m not mean then you never get anything done.” You told him truthfully. “And you know how it works by now. Good boys get rewards and bad boys get spanked.” You told him, letting out a bright laugh - indicating that it was clearly meant to be a joke. 

But instantly, it shook his mind with imagery of you bending him over the table, ripping his pants down and spanking him until he came untouched and cried for mercy, forcing him to agree that he would behave and listen to you. He became downright dizzy at the thought. 

You meant it as a joke - he had to sharply remind himself. But the way you so casually called him a ‘good boy’, said that he was deserving of a ‘reward’ - it sent chills down his spine and already had his cock waking up. Too early. Bad rabbit hole. 

If he was any sort of brave, he would have pushed it more and asked you what kind of ‘reward’ you had in mind. But he wasn’t, and he was too tired to analyze the potential consequences. 

“Oh!” You said, as though suddenly remembering something. You moved to grab your bag again and Stiles closed his eyes to forcefully keep himself from staring at your ass. “You left this at my place last night.” You told him, sliding his English textbook across the table toward him. 

He was too busy trying to calm his own lust that he missed the smirk on your face - the mischief lingering in your eyes, the intention in your tone. He was too caught up, drowning in his own affections for you that he never would have pieced together that you had taken in and hidden it on purpose as a ploy to get him to come back. That you had put out some other bait for him to find. 

“Thanks.” He said quietly. “So - what do we need to go over before the test?”

“Everything.” 

Stiles groaned.

...

A/N: Yes, there is a sequel for this fic in my drafts. It is something that I worked on during my hiatus. It's 10k long, and it's pretty much done.

If you would like to see the sequel edited and posted in a timely manner, I would like to see at least 30 reblogs and 25 comments on this fic - in the form of replies or anon asks.

102 people liked the preview for this fic and I know a lot of people are interested in it, so I am only asking for a 1/4 of the people who liked the preview to interact this fic before I release the sequel. But please, keep comments to the content of this fic rather than just asking for the next part to be released.

If you want to be tagged in the next part, you can ask to be put on my Teen Wolf taglist by interacting with this post, but please know that if you don't follow my taglist rules, you will be removed from the taglist promptly. If that happens, you are still welcome to read and enjoy future fics, you just won't be included in my taglists ever again.

Happy reading, and I hope you enjoyed the fic!!

[starboye]

pairing: dylan minette x male reader x ross lynch

request: what if yn works behind the scenes at coachella or a show like that where several singers perform, including ross lynch n dylan minnette, who end up fucking him that same day they meet him; before and after their perform. while ross is outside, dylan fucks him, ross comes back all sweaty and fucks yn while dylan sings on stage until he comes back sweaty too and they fuck him together (again)

warnings: smut, daddy kink, double penetration, unprotected sex, slight degrading, overstimulation

Working at Coachella wasn't the easiest job ever but the pay was good and seeing the singers come off the stage all hot and sweaty was definitely an added bonus especially when your two favorite boys Ross and Dylan were preforming there.

"Ross hi I'm a huge fan" you excitedly say as he walks past you before stopping in his tracks "well hey there sweet cheeks" he says holding out his large hand to shake yours and you eagerly shake his "I love your music so much" you say freaking out but keeping it together "how about we yo somewhere a little more quieter so we can talk" he says bringing you to his changing room and ordering everyone else out.

He closes the door behind you "can I get your autograph" you ask "I can give you something better" he says pulling you into a kiss, your inside quickly heating up as you melt into his kiss "yeah that's a lot better" you say hypnotized by him "now how about you get on that couch and bend over" ross orders smacking your ass "yes sir" you lowly say moving over to the couch.

You bend over and ross moves behind you before lowering your pants and underwear down to your knees and unbuttons his pants to let his cock out, you feel the heat radiating of his dick as it glides past your hole, he smears some lube he had hidden in the room on your hole and quickly thrusts in "shit" he huffs at the feeling as you moan.

He holds onto your hips and pounds into you relentlessly "Ross you in here" you hear Dylan knocks at the door before creaking it open "oh what do we ave here" dylan ask walking closer to the sight in front of him "desperate slut here is a big fan of mine so I decided to give him some of what he really wanted, isn't that right slut" he says smacking your ass harshly "yes ross" you whimper "that's mr lynch to you, now do you know who this fine gentleman is" he orders.

"yes mr lynch that's dylan minnette" you moan barely being able to make out his face but still recognizing him "good he's gonna keep you nice and stuffed while I go do my show okay" he says through grunts "really" you eagerly say "look at you already craving his dick" ross chuckles "fuckkk" he groans as he cums in you "use that as some lube" he huffs pulling out and zipping up his pants "will do" dylan says unzipping his pants and sliding into you "don't fuck him out dylan" ross warns sternly.

Dylan waves him away and admires how easily your hole sucks him up with ease "we're gonna fuck you so much" dylan grunts pulling you up, your back now firmly placed against his chest and his hand wrapped around your throat as you moan out "you like this dick" dylan asks "yes sir I love it" you whine with a hiccup "such a slut" he laughs as his hips pick up pace "mr minnette can I cum" you ask "I dont know can you" he smirks "please please" you whine longingly.

With those sweet moans how could he ever deny you with one more thrusts of his hips you both cum, your cum staining the leather couch and his cum now swooshing around in your hole simultaneously as Ross finishes his show and walks in all sweaty "how was it" Ross asks fist bumping Dylan "still so tight even after that fucking" Dylan says surprised "well I guess we'll have to change that" Ross chuckles before Dylan walks out to preform his part of the show.

"how did you like that slut" Ross asks pulling his pants down to let his now hard cock flop out and slide back into you "it was great mr lynch" you moan fucked out "don't pass out on me now baby boy you still have so much more work to do" Ross says pulling you up to his chest "you would wanna disappoint me now would you" he whispers in your ear "no sir" you whimper "good boy" he says thrusting into you roughly before pushing you into the couch and arching your back downwards.

"this pretty little hole was made for me" Ross says watching you turn into putty under his words and actions "thank you sir" you moan "wow your a real slut for this" he scoffs "we're gonna fill you up so much" he says before lifting you up and sitting on the couch and lowering you down onto him while facing the door as he continues to fuck you, you through your head back onto his shoulder and continue to moan "m-mr lynch" "yeah baby" "m'gonna cum" you moan "let it all out then" he growls in your ear making you spray your load all over your chest.

"fuck" you huff closing your eyes "nah keep those eyes open you still got one more task" Ross says as Dylan walks in "wow this room smells like so much sex" he laughs before noticing your hole and body on full display as Ross's dick slides in and out of you with ease "now let Dylan slide in too" Ross grunts out, you try and hide your face out of shame "no no don't be all embarrassed now you love this" Ross spits out pulling your hair back to show your face "please mr minnette I need it" you moan as tears drip down your face.

"don't have to ask me twice" Dylan says pulling his pants down and slowly but surely pushing his way into your stuffed hole but the cum making great lube "damn how is he still so tight" Dylan looks at you in disbelief before pounding into you hard as you blink in and out of consciousness "stay awake for us sugar" Ross huffs lightly slapping your face "yeah just a couple more seconds and we'll fill you up so good" Dylan says.

After a few more thrusts and grunts mixed with weak moans Dylan and Ross full you up with their cum once more before pulling out and watching their good work spill out you, Ross quickly finds a butt plug and stuffs it in you "you just got it all in here huh" Dylan asks "what can I say I've had my fair share of sluts here" he laughs is the last thing you hear before blacking out.

You wake up to find some water and snacks next to you with a note "call us sometime" it reads with their phone numbers on it, you sit up sore and barely remembering all the events that happened but still full.

[nobitchs-world]

If I ever get these men in my claws I will transform into the ultimate freak

[love-belle]

the greatest films of all time !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their love was made for the movies but it's like they all say, the greatest films of all time were never made.

or

for when you know enough to know that you want to move through time with them and them only. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // various celebrities x fem!driver!reader

warnings - language

author's note - a short series bc i literally cannot stick with my original ideas 😭😭 requests are CLOSED my inbox is 100+ i am not kidding im so sorry :((

i. milo manheim ༉‧₊˚.

( every dead end street led you straight to me )

ii. ben barnes ༉‧₊˚.

( you'll be my best friend until we grow old )

iii. drew starkey ༉‧₊˚.

( 'cause summers go so fast )

iv. dylan o'brien ༉‧₊˚.

( your past and mine are parallel lines )

v. matt sturniolo ༉‧₊˚.

( you'd be the love of my life when i was young )

...more !!!

[soulofapatrick]

Falling Into You - Stiles Stilinski x Female Reader 

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

Words: 2.6K

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

Y/N’s POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[diorsluv]

feather , part 32

“ you miss me? ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by lhughes_06, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, and 237,966 others

yourusername hughes appreciation post has come! (they wouldn’t leave me alone until i swore i would do it)

tagged: jackhughes, lhughes_06, _quinnhughes

view all comments

mackie.samo when did luke let you put flowers in his hair??

→ yourusername senior year 🙏🙏

→ lhughes_06 IT WAS FOR PROM OKAY

→ mackie.samo awww were you each others’ prom date??

→ yourusername yes 🙄

→ edwards.73 YOU OWE ME $50 mackie.samo

→ lhughes_06 you guys bet on us going to prom together??? a year after prom??

→ markestapa yes

username44 luke’s second pic 🥰

username98 OH MY GOD QUINNN

→ yourusername THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING

markestapa that pasta was fire esp with the cheese on top

→ yourusername mark.. we don’t have cheese

→ markestapa WAS THAT HIS FUCKING DANDRUFF

→ trevorzegras LMFAOOOO

→ jackhughes I DON’T HAVE DANDRUFF

→ colecaufield explain the “cheese” 🤨 jackhughes

→ jackhughes no further comment.

_quinnhughes hey wait my pics aren’t bad

→ yourusername EXACTLY I’M NOT THAT MEAN

→ yourusername i mean i still like the canadiens better but I’M NOT MEAN 🙏

→ _quinnhughes oh 😒

→ colecaufield WOOOOO

→ yourusername GO HABS 😈😈

rutgermcgroarty i’m surprised jack was able to carry you

→ jackhughes are you calling me weak

→ yourusername are you calling me hard to carry

→ rutgermcgroarty wait no i was just saying yk bc i had to carry you and i was struggling but only a bit and not because you’re hard to carry or anything 😰😰

→ adamfantilli bro can’t stop yapping

→ jackhughes maybe you’re just weak

→ yourusername maybe you’re the one that just can’t carry me

→ rutgermcgroarty stop teaming up on me 😕

lhughes_06 i’m looking pretty cute here

→ dylanduke25 yes you are 😘

→ markestapa cutest hughes brother 🙌

→ mackie.samo such a pretty princess 🥰

→ edwards.73 my little cutie patootie 😻

→ lhughes_06 oh mackie.samo edwards.73

→ yourusername even tho ur my bsf i’m gonna have to say my bf is cuter

→ lhughes_06 sad to say you’re not wrong 😔

username2 STOP TEASING USSSS

username31 girl i need to know and i need to know now

_alexturcotte now that i think about it you only have quinn and jack’s jerseys

→ yourusername i have luke’s michigan jersey 😔

→ lhughes_06 WHAT i thought i sent you mine already

→ yourusername it’s okay lukey you’re fine if i just wear quinn’s right 😁

→ trevorzegras damn lil drizz i see you (you’re not slick i know what you’re doing)

→ lhughes_06 i wanna see my name and number on your back yourusername

→ yourusername i mean.. technically it is your name and number on my back 🤗🤗

→ lhughes_06 stfu 🙄🙄

→ yourusername shutting the fuck up 😕

→ lhughes_06 i better see you wearing a DEVILS jersey with my name before the next game

→ yourusername yes sir 🫡

→ _alexturcotte what the hell did i just do 😨

luca.fantilli fantilli appreciation post??

→ yourusername OH MY GOD LEAVE ME ALONE

→ adamfantilli do you not appreciate us ☹️

→ yourusername yes i appreciate you adam

→ luca.fantilli how much

→ yourusername very much

→ luca.fantilli enough to dedicate a whole post to us?

→ yourusername enough for you to not need a post that tells you how much i appreciate you 🙄

→ jackhughes stop stealing the spotlight guys

→ lhughes_06 fr she never appreciates us

→ _quinnhughes exactly

→ mackie.samo could never be us 🥱

→ maddy.samo say it louder for the people in the back 🗣️🗣️

→ msamoskevich she loves us more than all of you

→ colecaufield why are 3 families fighting over her

→ dylanduke25 CAN WE JOIN

→ tyler___duke5 IM READY TO FIGHT

→ trevorzegras dude come here griffinzegras

→ yourusername what the actual fuck

username74 all of them won the gene race wtf

colecaufield jack isn’t really doing it for me in that 2nd photo…

→ yourusername when is he ever doing it for you

→ colecaufield you’re right

→ jackhughes HEY this is supposed to be an appreciation post not a “let’s bully jack” post

→ _alexturcotte let’s bully jack

username90 pretty prettier and prettiest

username12 AYYYY THERES MY BOYS

username55 i have a hunch she’s doing this to throw us off even more

→ username36 i have a hunch she’s been doing this for way longer

trevorzegras why is luke’s kind of…

→ yourusername right 🤭

→ trevorzegras i meant in a bad way

→ yourusername oh

→ lhughes_06 how did you manage to turn this post into a weapon against us 😡

→ adamfantilli someone help luke’s talking like a fanfiction writer again

→ lhughes_06 I AM NOT

adamfantilli drysdale siblings try not to neglect us challenge go!

→ yourusername WHAT i don’t neglect you

→ luca.fantilli YES YOU DO

→ jamie.drysdale why did you have to rope me into this 😒

username11 fun fact guys it’s luke 😍😍

→ username79 wbk

→ username60 tell us something we don’t know

username23 they all look so ethereal

dylanduke25 won’t your bf be jealous that you keep posting these hotties

→ yourusername no bc they’re not hotties 🥰

→ _quinnhughes rude yourusername

→ lhughes_06 exactly i can’t believe he hasn’t gone insane yet

→ jackhughes we’re too 🔥

mackie.samo i heard from a little birdie that you’re not slick ‼️

→ yourusername i’m the slickest wym

→ yourusername they can’t sniff me out 🗣️🗣️

→ mackie.samo stfu ur so obvious

→ markestapa like you’re really obvious it’s embarrassing

→ dylanduke25 fr

→ yourusername NO IF WE DIDN’T TELL YOU THEN YOU WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO TELL

→ edwards.73 stop lying to yourself

→ adamfantilli we could tell wayyyyy before you even started dating

→ yourusername 😔

username35 what are they saying in mackie’s replies 🤯

username47 i could bet anyone 1k IN CASH that they’re dating and i know i would win

username81 waiting for the day she posts bad luke pics

→ yourusername not possible!

username1 yall i swear to god i saw her on a date with him yesterday

jamie.drysdale i can’t believe you appreciate them more than you appreciate me

→ yourusername NOT TRUE

→ jamie.drysdale YES TRUE

→ yourusername I MADE AN APPRECIATION POST FOR YOU ALREADY

→ jamie.drysdale THAT’S NOT ENOUGH

→ yourusername you’re so needy 😒

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, jackhughes, colecaufield, and 200,219 others

yourusername HELLO KITTY ☺️

view all comments

rutgermcgroarty i thought you were done with all your food posts

→ yourusername would you rather have me post my “lovesick” posts again

→ rutgermcgroarty i mean technically he’s still in the post

→ yourusername uh huh keep talking i dare you

→ rutgermcgroarty I MISSED YOUR FOOD POSTS SO MUCH

→ yourusername mhm 🤨

username46 OH MY GOD WHERE IS THAT STORE

username25 THE PIZZA???

_quinnhughes i was really hoping your hello kitty obsession fully died down

→ yourusername NEVERRR

jackhughes you haven’t posted ONE post without a picture of your bf since you got together

→ yourusername YES I HAVE

→ colecaufield no tf you haven’t

→ yourusername i’m sorry i love him too much 😞

→ luca.fantilli ick yourusername

→ dylanduke25 LADY BONER GONEEEEE

→ markestapa DUKER STOP

→ lhughes_06 aw that’s cute yourusername

username77 if jack said she hasn’t posted without a pic of her bf and last post ONLY had him and his brothers…….

→ username68 waiting for the day y’all stop acting like we all don’t know it’s lukey pooks

dylanduke25 when did he learn how to braid

→ yourusername when we were younger and i forced him to learn how to do my hair 🤗🤗

→ dylanduke25 AND I JUST FOUND THIS OUT?

→ _alexturcotte you’re late bro

→ jackhughes i’ve walked into his room one too many times and seen him braiding her hair

→ yourusername HEY BUT HE LIKES DOING MY HAIR

→ _quinnhughes you’re not helping his case 😭

edwards.73 your hair is so greasy

→ yourusername no it’s not yours is

→ edwards.73 if you stepped out into the sun rn you would be able to hear your hair sizzling

→ yourusername i could cook a whole five course meal from the amount of grease in your hair

→ mackie.samo DAMNN EDDY UR GONNA TAKE THAT??

→ yourusername he can’t think of a better comeback 🥱🥱

username27 WHEN HE KNOWS HOW TO DO YOUR HAIRRRR 🤭🤭

liked by yourusername

username91 hello kitty x dominos collab when 😱

username4 my foodie twinnem

lhughes_06 did you buy the pizzas?

→ yourusername no i baked them with my boyfriend 🥰

→ lhughes_06 he must be a REALLY good cook then

→ yourusername no actually he sucks ass and he almost burnt the kitchen down ‼️‼️

→ lhughes_06 oh 😐

colecaufield donuts 🤤🤤

→ yourusername is that all you got from this post

→ colecaufield DONUTS 🙂

_alexturcotte pizza 🤤🤤

→ yourusername did you two copy and paste your comments

→ _alexturcotte PIZZA 🙂

trevorzegras luke 🤤🤤

this comment has been deleted

trevorzegras your bf 🤤🤤

→ yourusername ZEGRAS I SWEAR

→ trevorzegras YOUR BF 🙂

→ yourusername next time i see you it’s on sight

luca.fantilli tell your little boyfriend that he needs to stop letting you steal him from us when you’re around

→ yourusername let’s be so honest i’ve always stolen him from you when i was around 🙄🙄

→ luca.fantilli EXACTLY SO TELL HIM

→ yourusername tell him yourself 🤬

→ lhughes_06 luca if i didn’t know any better i’d say you’re jealous

→ luca.fantilli i take it all back

jamie.drysdale you said you stopped liking hello kitty when you were 9 😐😐

→ yourusername LITERALLY WHEN DID I SAY THAT

→ jamie.drysdale you know when.

→ yourusername no i don’t?????

→ jamie.drysdale YES YOU DO

→ yourusername STOP TRYING TO GASLIGHT ME

username63 IM SO TIRED WAITING FOR THEM TO HARD LAUNCH

username41 we’ve been stuck in soft launch era for TOO LONG

username26 girl i love you but PLEASE JUST GIVE US CONFIRMATION

markestapa DID YOU SEE THAT ONE SHIRT

→ yourusername mark babe there’s a lot of shirts

→ markestapa THAT ONE HELLO KITTY SHIRT BUT IT SAID HELLO TITTY INSTEAD OF HELLO KITTY

→ yourusername NO??

→ markestapa IT’S SO FUNNY

→ yourusername you’re the type of guy to laugh at a hello titty shirt 😐

maddysamo i miss you 😞

→ mackie.samo BACK TF UP

→ yourusername I MISS YOU MORE

→ jackhughes oh my god get away

→ lhughes_06 you’re so defensive jack

→ dylanduke25 you’re one to talk lhughes_06

adamfantilli the frosting on the donuts kind of look like glue

→ yourusername throwback to your glue eating era ⁉️

→ adamfantilli I ONLY TOLD YOU THE STORY YOU WERENT EVEN THERE

→ yourusername high school sophomore eating liquid glue 😱😱

→ adamfantilli LITERALLY SHUT UP

→ lhughes_06 LMAOOO

→ yourusername don’t act like you didn’t eat glue all of your elementary school career luke

→ lhughes_06 oh 🙃

username21 hard launch when 🙁🙁

→ username59 apparently fucking never

username77 by the time they hard launch they’ll already be married with three kids and another one in the oven

liked by yourusername

→ username44 OMG SHE LIKED IT??

mackie.samo TECHNICALLY he forgot to braid and i taught him how to do it again

→ yourusername no go ahead take all the credit 🙄

→ lhughes_06 🫤🫤

→ rutgermcgroarty 🤓

→ markestapa ACKSHUALLY

→ edwards.73 nerd alerttttt 🚨🚨🚨

→ mackie.samo okay hate on me then 😒

next chapter notes ) i’ve gotten to the point where i’m posting once in a blue moon but at the same time i’ve literally been procastinating in every aspect of my life (i just spent 3 hours on one class’ assignments) anyways THE HARD LAUNCH IS COMING SOON 🫢🫢 not proofread ‼️

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys@loveforaugust@cstads-blog@h0e4fictionalme-n

[bruisedboys]

please write for tmr!thomas i beg of you

tmr!thomas x reader | established relationship, fluff and hurt/comfort, 1k words (set in the scorch trials!)

you, thomas and your friends find sanctuary from the scorch with the right arm. unfortunately, they don’t provide any sanctuary from nightmares.

“Are you awake?”

Thomas feels you shift under his arm. You’re curled into his side, arm slung over his chest and thigh pressed to his. He hums.

“Yeah, I’m awake,” he murmurs back. “What’s up?”

He feels your hand glide across his stomach and your fingers curl around his hip. It makes him shiver.

“Nothing,” you hum. “Just thinking.”

Thomas huffs. Typical you, keeping yourself awake for no good reason. “Stop thinking and go to sleep then, sweetheart. You need rest.”

You muffle a giggle in his shirt. It warms his chest all the way through. “You’re mean.”

“And you’re keeping me up,” Thomas says back, only half serious. “Go to sleep.”

Eventually you do as he says. These days Thomas always always has waits for you to fall asleep first before letting himself drift off. It makes him feel better about himself. He does everything in his power to make sure you’re safe and healthy and happy, but it’s hard when you’re on your own in a sick world, running from a government organisation that wants you for your blood.

The Scorch has been unforgiving, but you’ve braved through like you always do, never once complaining, always making sure the rest of the group are okay. Thomas thinks someone as lovely as you doesn’t deserve to live in a world like this. It’s half the reason he’s as determined as he is the find somewhere safe.

Well, you’ve found sanctuary for now, at least, with the Right Arm. You and Thomas are sharing a tent with the rest of the group — Minho, Newt, Frypan — none of whom seem to be willing to seperate from each other, despite the spare tents the Right Arm offers. It speaks volumes about where the real safety net is.

Eventually Thomas falls asleep too. He’s not sure how long he sleeps until he’s woken by you. You don’t mean to wake him, he thinks, but he’s a bad sleeper at the best of times, and he’s got a sixth sense for this kind of thing, anyway.

He blinks his eyes open sluggishly. It’s dark, but the campfire still flickers outside the tent, so he can just make out your figure. You’re sitting up straight, stiff as a board. Panic slices through his heart like a cold knife.

“Y/N?” He murmurs. He finds your thigh under the sleeping bag you’re sharing and braces his hand on it to help him sit up. “Baby, are you okay?”

Thomas’ eyes slowly adjust to the light until he realises, with a pang in his chest, that you’re crying. Thankfully, you don’t seem to be in any immediate danger. Everyone else is still fast asleep, and everything’s quiet outside the tent. Still, he doesn’t like the way your shoulders are shaking.

“Sorry,” you gasp. You’re holding your face in two clammy hands, fingers cruel where you scrub at your tears. “Didn’t mean to wake you. I just—“

“Bad dream?” Thomas asks gently. He can guess well enough. He’s had his fair share, and while he’s not an expert on the human mind or anything, he can see that you’re pretty shaken up.

You nod. Tears splash down your front. “Yeah,” you mumble. “Sorry.”

Thomas frowns at you as he brings his hand to your shoulder.

“Stop apologising,” he says, squeezing you gently. His drags his thumb across your collarbone, soothing. He doesnt want to think about what you’d’ve done if he hadn’t woken up. Would you have suffered all by yourself? The thought alone feels like a bullet to his heart. “It’s okay, babe, really. Can I give you a hug?”

You nod viciously. Thomas makes a pitying sound from deep in his chest and wraps you up in a hug, sliding his hand to the nape of your neck to encourage your head over his shoulder. You’re shaking like a leaf, your cheek damp and warm where it presses to his neck.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs to you. It’s all he can say, really. He can’t tell you it wasn’t real, because the chances that you had dreamed about something very real, and equally horrifying, are high. He strokes your hair, feeling a little useless but a lot sorry. “I’ve got you.”

Somebody stirs across the tent. Thomas watches over your shoulder as that somebody sits up.

“Thomas?” It’s Newt. His voice is raspy with sleep but he sounds concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Thomas feels something akin to a rush of gratitude for his empathetic friend. If anything was ever to happen to Thomas, he at least knows for certain Newt would take care of you.

“Yeah, Newt,” he says. “Everything’s fine. We’re good. Just a nightmare, I’ve got it.”

Newt hums and his lanky figure drops back to the tent floor. Meanwhile you’re sniffling over Thomas’ shoulder, your hands screwed into the back of his shirt.

Thomas can’t be sure if Newt’s still awake, but he doesn’t really care if his friend hears him or not. He’s past being embarrassed about how much he cares for you. Thomas draws back and takes your face in his hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks you.

“Not really,” you whisper back. Your anguished tone breaks Thomas’ heart clean in two.

“Okay. That’s alright,” Thomas tells you, as kind as he can when he’s up to his ears with worry. He swipes his thumbs over your cheeks, rubbing away your hot tears. He gives you a reassuring smile. “Do you want some water?”

You nod. Thomas reaches behind him to pull his metal flask from a meagre pile of supplies. He unscrews the lid and encourages the bottle into your hands.

“Here, babe,” he says softly. “It’ll help.”

He steadies your shaking hands with his own and helps you have a few gulps of water. When he returns the bottle to it’s place you’ve calmed significantly. Your cheeks are still damp and sticky but your tears have ebbed, at least.

Thomas smiles at you. He’s sure he looks sick with concern but he tries not to let it show, thumbing your cheek with as much tenderness as he can manage. “Let’s lie down, yeah? C’mon, sweetheart.”

He tugs you down with him. You slump onto his chest and push your hand under his shirt. You’re really warm, but it gives him goosebumps anyway.

“You’re safe with me,” he promises. It’s a promise he doesn’t plan on breaking, ever. He rubs your back. Big, rough sweeps that have you going lax in his arms almost instantaneously. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I promise.”

-

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, and feel free to send more reqs for thomas!

[mysticallystilinski]

stiles being head over heels for reader and reader is scotts sister so she’s off limits but stiles can’t contain himself

can be smut or fluff whatever you’d like !! 🤭🤭

I’M TOO HIGH FOR THIS [ stiles x fem!reader ]

desc. MIXING WEED WITH EMOTIONS IS THE BEST SOLUTION FOR YOU AND STILES

has : substance use (weed), very in character stiles, hidden relationship, underage? smoking (under 21), heavy making out, undertones of sexual intercourse.

the rain was heavy and so were your eyes. it’s been 28 hours since you’ve last heard from stiles. your face was a pure mix of puffy eyes, from sadness and not to mention smoking.

a few minutes ago, you had gotten a text from your brother, scott. he had mentioned that stiles would be on his way to your house, and to keep the doors unlocked because he had forgotten his key. it will be any minute now that he comes barging through the door, and pinning you against the wall. at least, that’s what you would hope would happen.

being lost in your own trance of thoughts helped guide you from hearing the knock of your front door. the knocks kept repeating until your gaze turned away from the phone in your hand to the large door. you slowly moved up and off the couch, and slight pattered to the door. you couldn’t tell if the knocking was in your head, or really happening until the door slammed open.

you fell with someone’s body laid upon you. you started to giggle as he fell off of you. your head was in the clouds as you picked yourself up only to see stiles sprawled out on the floor. you could not stop giggling as he held out his hand for you to help him up. as soon as you gave him your hand, he pulled you back down on top of him.

stiles made you smile deeply as his arms wrapped around your body. he gave you a quick kiss, and then pushed you lightly off of him. your butt hit the floor as you started to laugh once again. “are you high?”, stiles questioned jokingly. “would that be a bad thing?”, you snickered. “oh god you are high.”, he laughed.

“do you have anymore weed?”, he asked. your face went from a giggly expression, to straight serious. “stiles stilinski, getting high for the first time?”, you questioned. “i mean, maybe, i just, i really wanna know how it is”, he stuttered. you smiled, “okay then, i have a cart for your first time. a joint or a blunt would get you too high”, you spoke.

you pushed yourself up off the ground, and lazily walked to your room. your hand grabbed the knob of the desk, and pulled it open. hidden in a bag was a few joints, and your cart with a battery. you pulled out the cart and headed back to the front door where stiles was still sitting.

“come on, get up stilinski”, you laughed. he got up off the floor, and took your free hand. you guys headed to the couch, and stiles immediately grabbed the remote for the tv. you gave him a smirk, “what? you just wanna watch star wars while high?” he squeezed your hand while they were still interlinked. he used the remote to put on hulu, and headed to the star wars section.

you twisted the cartridge onto the battery and clicked it 5 times to turn it on. you handed it straight to stiles as he was focused on the tv. you were nervous how stiles would react, but was also excited to see how he would act. “how do i even do this?”, he laughed. you grabbed it back from him and held it up to your mouth. you placed the cart between your lips, held the button and sucked in for about 7 seconds.

you did a quick ghost, and stiles looked very impressed. “okay, now your turn”, you said while handing it back over to him. the effects of your high were heightened as it hit you. you looked over at stiles and saw him hitting it, once he blew it out he started to cough. he hit it for a pretty long time, longer than any person would on their first time.

you already knew that stiles would be blasted, but you didn’t know to what extent. his coughing lasted about 30 seconds, but then wore off. your mind started to head in different places as you stared into the tv. soon, you felt yourself being shook by stiles, he had been calling your name as you zoned out. “y/n, i think it’s hitting”, he said calmly. his eyes were low, and seemed to be red in the low light.

“it feels like.. space”, he spoke. you guys both laughed in sync. stiles had felt like the world was spinning, just a bit. you were in some kind of trance as stiles was staring into the star wars universe on tv. you scooted closer to him as his eyes were placed on the tv. your hand slowly felt on his thighs, running up and down. he slowly turned his head to look at you, and started to nervously laugh. you went up to his ear, and whispered, “maybe we should play some music.”

your head was pulled away and he nodded. you grabbed the remote and changed the tv to spotify. your high playlist was on the recommended, so you placed that on right away. the first song to play was ‘She by Tyler, The Creator’. stiles gaze was placed upon the tv still, but you wanted to distract him. you grabbed his face for him to look at you. he smiled while seeing your sly smirk.

“sti, i want to do something”, you said while starting to feel some type of way. your body started to feel on fire as he nodded. he placed your body down onto the longer part of the couch. he then placed his body on top of yours, all while you leaned in to kiss him. the kiss was powerful, making you both feel even more horny that you have been. his dick got hard quickly as you grinded into the kiss. his tongue battled for dominance with yours, and he quickly overpowered you.

while feeling this way, it felt like you guys were in a dream. you could never have imagined making out with stiles stilinski while being high. after all, you were scotts younger sister, and he was stiles stilinski. tingles went all throughout your body as stiles hands found his way to your ass. ever since you guys took those dab hits, you were on each-other more than ever.

he slightly squeezed your ass and you whimpered into the kiss. you ran your hands up and down his back, making large scratch marks. he felt your nails dig into him which caused a load groan to emerge from his soul. he had been waiting for the chance to get you alone after his non-stop hanging out sessions with scott. you broke away from the kiss for a second, “sti, please take my shirt off.”

he got off you for a quick second, and grabbed the hem of your shirt. he lifted it off of you, which exposed your light pink bra. “can i?”, you motioned nodding to his shirt. “of course baby”, he smirked. stiles placed your hands on the hem of it and guided them to take the shirt off. his bare skin being exposed left you feeling in heaven. his abs we’re slightly creasing at the center, and his body was perfect.

you layed back down upon the couch. grabbing him by his shoulders, you pulled him down for skin-to-skin contact. your legs were now wrapped around his waist so that you could feel his boner poking through his pants. stiles looked at you for a moment, staring into your eyes, then smashed his lips on yours.

his lips detached from yours, and headed to your exposed neck. stiles fluttered light kisses all around your collarbone, and chest. he started to suck at the most delicate places, placing small love bites. he looked up at you through his long lashes and smirked at your expression. your face was in a state of bliss at the feeling. his body, to your body felt amazing. the high heightened all emotions by ten percent.

at once, the door slammed open. “stiles, y/n, i’m home!”, yelled scott. in an instant, you grabbed your shirt to cover yourself. “what the hell is going on in here?”, scott growled. stiles looked at you, you saw from the corner of your eye. you made quick eye contact with stiles, but then looked at scott. “and why the fuck does it smell like weed?”. you looked back and stiles, and smirked.

[ghostgardn]

no plot needed

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you too baby.”

copyright © 2023 ghostgardn.tumblr

taglist: @starsval

[strangerstilinski]

sharing a stiles thought i keep thinking bc brainrot and sharing bc you’d appreciate it

he would beg you to do the spiderman kiss and immediately fall as soon as it actually happens

i know this wasn't technically a request of any sort but oh boy did it tickle at the nearly nonexistent inspiration in my brain, so.. here we are. just a very short fluffy little thing that made me feel all warm inside. x

You tug at the sleeves of your sweatshirt in an attempt to cover your cold knuckles as you take an overly-cautious step out onto your front porch, hugging one arm around your ribs as a shiver wracks your body all while your grip tightens around your cell phone.

“Stiles, if this is one of your jokes-” A sigh escapes you, a wispy cloud of fog pushing past your lips as you look around for your boyfriend. There's a familiar blue jeep parked at the edge of your driveway, but the owner doesn’t seem to be anywhere in sight. You tut softly into the phone, “I think your pranks are cute, baby. Really, I do, but I need to study-”

Your socked feet carry you that much farther outside, shuffling slow across the smooth planks of wood underfoot while you cautiously scour the yard for his familiar figure.

“I'm right-” There's a scratchy crackle against the speaker just as you hear a scuffle from somewhere to your left. Stiles' yelp meets your ears twice, once from the dark emptiness at the edge of the porch, and then again half a second later through the phone.

It's just as you're just stepping up to the edge of the porch, hand falling to grip the railing as you squint into the darkness, when something drops down from above and makes you flinch back with a small scream.

“Here!” Stiles grins, the momentum of his body still making him sway forward and backward for a moment as he hangs upside down in front of you. He's dangling from the roof overhanging the porch, his torso curled around the edge in a way that can't possibly be comfortable, but he's grinning like he couldn't be more pleased with his current position.

“Stiles!” You scold, reining in the urge to punch his shoulder and instead redirecting the motion to simply grip at his biceps when he reaches out for you. The slow motion of his swinging slows under your steady hold, “Are you insane? You're banned from climbing on the roof! We- We have talked about this-”

“Neh, eh, eh,” He interrupts with a goofy grin, “The rule was that I can't climb on Scott's roof-”

While you don't remember the specifics, you have no doubt that your boyfriend would have been clever enough to worm some sort of loophole into his previous promise. Your nose scrunches up in annoyance while your heart continues thumping wildly in your chest, both from the scare and from the panic pooling in your gut as you watch your boyfriend shuffle and slip another inch or so over the edge of the roof.

“Sti, babe, please,” You whine anxiously, fingers digging into his arms a little meanly, “Stop moving around, alright? You're going to fall!”

“I'm not gonna fall,” Stiles rolls his eyes and he reaches a hand out to brush against your cheek, his pinky brushing the apple your cheek as his thumb presses lightly into your jaw, “Come on, don't you wanna know why I'm up here?”

You sigh softly, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips while you release him with just one hand so that you can run your fingers through his floppy hair where it hangs loosely beneath his head. Your hand scrapes lightly though the soft strands, your cheek pushing imperceptibly into the warmth of his palm.

“Why are you on the roof, Sti?” You ask begrudgingly.

“Spiderman.”

“Spiderman?” You repeat slowly.

“Spiderman!” Stiles grins, “You know, the first one. The Raimi one-”

“Like.. Andrew Garfield?” You clarify with furrowed brows.

“What?” Stiles scoffs, “No! Toby Maguire! Baby, we watched them together-”

He looks appalled, mouth gaping just slightly in incredulity.

“Well, we watched the Andrew Garfield ones together too-” You defend with a small laugh, amusement filling your chest at just how worked up he seems to be getting by your mistake.

“The first one!” Stiles repeats in a huff, “Because that's the one where it's raining and he saves MJ and he's hanging upside-down in the alley and she pulls his mask down to kiss him as a thank you-”

“Ooh, a wet, New York City alleyway,” You tease, “How romantic.”

Stiles groans woefully, “This was supposed to be romantic. You are totally ruining this for me, right now, you know-”

His words do make you feel a little bad. He'd clearly put some thought into the idea. He'd climbed all the way up onto the roof of your porch, though you're still not quite sure how — there's no ladder in sight.

You plaster a sweet smile on your lips, slipping your feet up onto the rung at the bottom of the railing to boost you up another few inches, until your nose is level with Stiles' chin.

“I'm sorry, Stiles,” You murmur softly, chin tipping toward your chest so you can look into his eyes, “You wanted a big, superhero movie kiss?”

His adam's apple bobs when he swallows, his body reacting naturally to the familiar teasing lilt in your voice, “Uh huh.” He nods.

“Well gee,” You sigh wistfully as you drag a finger up the side of his cheek in a slow trail toward his mole-speckled neck, “You are awfully brave for climbing up there. And you did do it with the intention of wooing me..” Your teeth pull lightly at your lower lip and his eyes track the movement, “Maybe I could show you just how brave and sweet I think you are. Maybe.. I could show you how grateful I am, that you were willing to risk getting hurt for me.”

Stiles is nodding along, eyes wide with anticipation and cheeks flushed dark from a combination of your words and the blood rushing to his head in his current position, “Yeah.” He rasps weakly.

Your fingers curl around the back of his neck, your lips catching against his in just a light brush of skin, teasing. His lips part beneath your own and your warm breath mingles in the narrow space, the scent of spearmint overtaking your senses for a moment.

The hand on your cheek drags you closer in a gentle nudge as he grows impatient, and your mouths meet in a slightly awkward press of lips. Something about the new angle with such a familiar action scratches at the back of your brain, and you tilt your head just slightly when your mouths separate and rejoin only a second later.

Stiles presses his thumb softly into the hinge of your jaw in a silent request for you to open your mouth, his tongue catching on your lower lip before pressing inside and meeting your own.

Your tangle your fingers in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Another wet peck to his lips has him shuffling forward to chase your mouth the moment you ease back, and he seems to slip just a little further over the edge of the roof.

“Careful.” You warn softly.

“'m always careful.” Stiles whispers, his upturned nose pushing into your jaw as he kisses you again.

You lean back after allowing him another moment of indulgence. Stiles seems to follow the movement again, pitching forward as you go back like you're two magnets, but this time around he slips just a bit too far to allow for recovery. You can only watch on with wide eyes while he comes tumbling down from the roof and crashes into the bushes below with a small scream.

“Oh my god!” You gasp, leaning over the railing to watch your boyfriend roll into the grass with a groan, “Are you okay?”

“Never better.” Stiles manages weakly, voice hoarse.

“You sure about that, Spiderman?” You tease hopefully as you watch him drag himself to his feet, brushing himself off to free the small bits of branches and leaves and dirt that are now clinging to his clothes.

“Yeah,” Stiles sighs, “Yeah, 'm good.”

“Good,” You grin, beckoning him closer when he finishes ridding himself of yard debris and meets your eye, “You should get yourself a mask though. I hear masked superheroes tend get more than just kisses and I have to admit, I think it's kinda hot-”

“Noted,” Stiles agrees with wide eyes, tripping over his own feet and the porch stairs as he rushes toward you, “Fucking- Shit, I am so on it.”

[babyflorencee]

Ignored ignorance

Merry Christmas!!

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Stiles' and I had gotten out of an adequately heated argument a couple of hours ago. He was infuriated with me because he thought that I was flirting with another man when I wasn't. So I've been ignoring him ever since. Now I'm not mad at him because he wrongfully accused of something that I didn't do, and would never do. But, I'm mad because he screamed at me nonstop for an hour before talking it out with me first.

It was currently midnight, and I was in the guest bedroom because I didn't want to be anywhere near him. I was on my phone texting Lydia when I heared a faint knock on the door. Knowing it's Stiles, I put my phone down, pretending like I'm sleeping. "Y/n?" I hear him whisper, trying to quietly open the door but failing miserably.

"Y/n, I know you're awake."

I just ignore him, trying to pretend like he isn't in the room. A couple of minutes go by and I'm just about to drift off to sleep when I feel the bed dip and an arm loosely wrapped around my waist. He put his mouth against my ear and whispers, "I'm so sorry, my love. Please come back to bed." His apology was so quiet I could just barely hear what he said.

I still don't say anything. I always end up caving in but I don't want to this time. He can't yell at me like that and expect me to forgive him so easily. "Y/n, I know you're awake. Baby please, I can't sleep without you beside me." He whines, but I still ignore him.

I feel him tighten his arm against my waist, pulling me into his chest and nuzzling his face into my hair, pressing light kisses all over my head. "I need you." And with just those three words, everything he did was completely forgotten.

[starboye]

pairing: dylan minnettee x male reader

request: could you write about dylan minette x reader fucking in the shower ILY

warnings: smut, shower sex, cursing, pet names, slight daddy kink

you hadnt expected dylan to be home for at least another few hours so you decided to take a relaxing shower after cleaning the house up a little for dylans return, he had been on tour for a couple weeks and today was the day he was supposed to come home but he came home a little earlier to surprise you.

dylan opened the door and threw his bags to the side waiting for you to greet him but you didnt, he walked through the fairly spacious house to find you, as he walked into you guys room he heard the shower running and smirked, he stripped off his clothes and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

"dylan is that you" you ask wiping the water from your face but dylan doesn't answer he only steps into the shower, leaning his chest against your back "hi baby" dylan whisper hugging you from behind "hey, how was the tour" you ask "miserable without you" dylan chuckles lightly.

"aww well you're here now" you reassure kissing dylans cheek "and now that im here i can finally have you" dylan mutters kissing down your neck "you couldn't wait till i got out the shower" you say choking back a moan "no" dylan says muffled by your neck, running his hand down to your ass to grope it.

"you want it" dylan question loving your sweet small whimpers "yes please" you plea rubbing your ass against dylans growing dick, dylan quickly flips you around and begins making out with you, you moaning it his mouth as the water falls onto your back making it hotter than it already was between you too.

"i missed you so much" dylan says "oh really" you smile pulling back from the kiss to catch a breath "for real, do you know how hard it is to jerk off to just a picture of your ass" dylan jokes but he was being honest, he sat in the dressing room of his concert for an hour trying to cum to a picture of your ass covered in his cum but he couldnt.

"then how about you cum to the real thing" you say jerking dylans cock lightly, feeling it grow even more in your hand "well how could i deny such a request" dylan deviously smirks, you see the lust growing in his eyes before he presses you onto the bathroom wall, face flat against the wet wall "already loose for me" dylan scoffs seeing your open hole.

"only for you daddy" you reply cockily, dylan almost goes feral when you say that but holds back and slaps his dick against your slick hole and without warning he thrusts into your warms walls with a groan "dylannn" you moan out as he does so "yeah baby all me" dylan says wrapping his hand around your neck while his other hand wraps around your dick, stroking it slowly.

"ngh please faster" you choke out "want daddy to go faster" dylan asks and you nod slowly, he goes faster and faster till the only sounds are groans and moans falling from your mouth masked by the shower and plaps, "im gonna..." you trail off not being able to finish your sentence but dylan understood exactly what you were saying and quickened his pace in your ass and around your dick.

you came all over dylans hand as you dropped you head onto the wall with broken moans "so good" dylan mummers licking the cum from his hand before wrapping one hand around your waist to steady you as he pounded you out, lifting your head back up by the neck with his other hand.

"right there" you whine feeling another wave of ecstasy wash over you and dylan feels it too before he cums in you, painting your walls white with his seed as he lets out deep huffs "you always know how to tire me out" dylan says "right back at you" you reply.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m