#i like how stiles wearing glasses was mentioned like once and i said yes to that always

[sterekcraptrash]

look siand starts posting a new part and suddenly i’m drawing again

no joke, fanfic writers fuel me.. if i’m drawing again guaranteed someone started posting

[whyaretheyfictionalcharacters]

Kinktober - Day 5

Ok so, second Sterek instalment. Good stuff.

Originally posted on AO3.

xoxo Lexi

“I don't think anyone is really taking this seriously”, Stiles comments, stepping over a tree trunk with the same grace Derek has just showed. Exactly the same. He flays around his arms a tid bit but apart from that? They could be mistaken for the same person.

Derek twists around and goes to help him. “Are you?”.

“Well, considering who thought about this you're damn right I am”.

The treasure hunt was Lydia's idea, a way to build in-pack relationships and create a more stable net of connections among them. If Stiles thinks her intention was to simply prove again to everyone else who's the smartest in the pack—he's certainly not going to tell anyone, he's not suicidal. And that's exactly the same reason he's taking this (honestly a bit ridiculous) relationship building exercise seriously. Or as seriously as he can take it, anyway.

“Lydia scares you?”.

“Of course she does! Doesn't she scare you?”.

“Oh, I'm terrified of her”, Derek answers with a frown. “And she's tiny”.

Stiles laughs, dried leaves crunching underneath his sneakers. “Don't let her hear you”.

“She's not a werewolf”. A small shrug. “Jackson is the only one around and he's at least a mile away”.

As they walk in silence, the only noise around them being their footsteps thudding on the ground, Stiles finally finds some appreciation for the quietness of the preserve. Being here with Derek, letting their shoulders and fingers brush against each other after the messy few weeks they've had with threats in the supernatural world feels comfortable and surreal. And probably it's his leftover-teenage hormones speaking but he can't wait for this treasure hunt to end so Derek and he can run off to his room and blow off some steam. Or blow off something else. That does sound like a plan.

His dad would not come back until later that night, probably after dinner, and that'd give them – Stiles calculates quickly in his mind – five hours to get funky, to jelly roll. Scrog a bit and schtupp together. To take old one eye to the optometrist. To play hide the salami. To dip Derek's cookie in Stiles glass of milk. Numerous times, if the werewolf's refractory period gives any clue. They could start small; make out on Stiles bed and test the sturdiness of the frame – which they've already done, by the way and sneaking out a broken bed slat out of the Sheriff's home is not as easy as it might sound. Which doesn't sound easy. At all. So one can only imagine the uncomfortable conversation he's had to have with Mrs Wunderby from across the road – and then get rid of their clothes because Stiles is a selfless person and Derek's body is something that needs to be cherished and admired. Keeping it clothed would be like...like clipping wings off of a mighty eagle. Or shut down the Smithsonian. It'd have that much of a cultural backfire. It'd be immoral.

So Stiles would take Derek's clothes off and admire that chest of his, all wide and muscly and warm and furry in a sexy way. He'd dip his hand down to follow the line of hairs to his navel, go over it and open his jeans because if unclothing Derek's chest is a cultural aid for the entire state of California, than the sight of his cock is a spiritual experience.

Derek Hale is big. Not impossibly big – Stiles is sure he doesn't live in one of those ridiculous stories people read with enhanced and horse-sized dicks – but nevertheless he's...gifted. Must have something to do with those werewolf genes of his and if that's the case, dear Mother Nature, wolves are a gift to them all. What turns on Stiles though it's not just the size of his shaft – still has a pretty high place in the list of 'Reasons why Derek Hale is a gift from the gods and Stiles is grateful he's his boyfriend' – it's the utter difference there is between the two of them. And that's not a euphemism about his own cock, Stiles is pretty content with his genitals, no complaints there. No, that's not it at all.

Stiles still remember when he recognised what the issue was and he probably has to thank Erica for that.

“You're such a twink, Stiles”, she had said once during their weekly coffee meetings and Stiles has seen enough gay porn after his surprising epiphany in high school to know what a 'twink' is. He's not oblivious, or his name would've been Scott McCall.

He had tried to deny that in front of his salted caramel frappuccino but as usual Erica had her own arguments. “You are, Stiles. You and Derek are literally the epitome of a bear-twink relationship”.

And God, was she right.

The werewolf might be only slightly taller than him but his presence is mightier, his shoulders wider and his arms definitely bigger. Stiles always feels dwarfed every time he's in close proximity with Derek and he does not complaint about that. Not. One. Bit. Dude can pick him up without breaking a sweat and fuck him against the wall as if he weighted less than a baked potato with bacon sprinkles on top. Jeez, those are good times. Hot times. As in Death Valley hot.

“Stiles”.

Surely they can do something like that today. There are so many options to spend five hours sexing up a werewolf Stiles gets a bit dizzy sometimes: this is literally his teenage dream, with no skinny jeans on and a comfy mattress instead of bedsheets forts in a motel room. Take that Katy Perry.

“Stiles”.

“What? Whassup?”, he asks turning to look at Derek.

Who is currently staring angrily at him. He seems pretty pissed actually, if Stiles has to tell the truth. Unfortunately he thought he had left all those annoyed stares and growled words in the past so this is turning out to be a shocking turn of events. In a not-so-sexy way.

“Uhm...Der? Everything okay?”.

Green eyes seems to struggle to not turn bright blue, flashing dangerously between the two shades. “Where's your head at?”.

Okay, this does seem like a trick question. Lydia taught me about this sort of things. “On my...shoulders?”.

Derek does not seem impressed. “You smell—you're stinking up the place”.

“Oh. Sorry”, he mutters self-consciously.

He thought Derek liked his smell. Sometimes he also finds him with his face deep into his own pillow when he comes back from the bathroom after Derek spends the night; or he would dip his nose along Stiles' neck while they're watching a film on the were's laptop in his apartment. When they're in public and Stiles thinks about sexy-times-ensuring things Derek always can smell him and he gets this intense expression that almost resembles his old…

Oh. Oh.

“Oh”.

“Yeah”, Derek agrees tightly as he steps forward. “Oh”.

“I think—I think my head is not taking this, uh. This treasure hunt as seriously as before, big guy”.

One step forward. “Really now?”.

“Mmh-mm”. Stiles steps back. “I mean. Can you blame me?”.

“I don't know. We were just talking about Jackson”. Another step.

Urgh. “Let's not mention him, deal?”. Last step backwards and Stiles' back hits the thick trunk of a tree. “I really don't wanna think about him and sex together. That's just plain wrong”.

He can see a gleam of amusement and coyness as Derek stops in front of him, face just inches away from Stiles'. “Oh, is that what you were thinking about? Sex?”.

“Uh, duh. I was thinking about, you know, when this stupid treasure hunt is other and we can go back to mine and the fact that my dad is going to be out for at least five hours – I know, I counted them – and we could, you know. Get some stankie on hang down—”.

“God, Stiles”. Derek's face scrunches up horrified. “No”.

“No? You don't like that? Okay, how about I ride your flagpole?”.

“Stiles”.

“Storm the cotton gin”.

“Stiles”.

“Hit a home run”.

“Stiles”.

“Sorry!”, he says with a small smile at Derek's exasperation. “Thought you'd appreciate the baseball reference. But another thing I was thinking was—”.

Derek glares at him. “I swear to God, Stiles. If you say one more—”.

“—you said Jackson is at least a mile away and we're all alone now”. Stiles looks down bashfully and hooks his finger in Derek's waistband. “And who knows when this awful thing is going to end. Might not have time when we get home”. Looking up from under his eyelashes he smirk a bit. “We could save time and...do this. Now. Here”.

 He sees a shiver running up Derek's arms just before they're placed on the tree caging his head. “You want to do it here?”.

“Yes”, he whispers.

“Now?”.

“Yeah”. A breath and a whimper.

He has enough time to think about the possibilities when a mouth descends on him and sharp, human teeth bite his lower lip, pulling reverently before nipping it. Stiles gasps when Derek's body presses up against his through the many, too many layers of clothes they're currently wearing. Derek takes that opportunity to slip his tongue between the other's lips, teasing the wet muscle and probing the mouth with deep, hungry movements.

“Lydia's—shit. Lydia's going to be so angry”, Stiles weakly comments before moaning as Derek's hips press against his, trapping him between his warm, strong body and the cold trunk behind him.

“Do you care?”.

“Fuck no”.

He snakes his hands underneath Derek's t-shirt, revelling in the heat of his olive skin, the softness of his hairs and the hardness of his muscles. One of the wolf's thighs gets between his own, providing some blessed friction for Stiles' awakening cock. He rubs himself against Derek, feeling the need to open his legs for him and the sensation of emptiness is starting to get too uncomfortable to be ignored as they're kissing. He's never been an exhibitionist (he thinks, though he's discovering all kinds of kinks in his relationship with Derek) but the idea of having the wolf inside him, right here and now in the middle of the preserve with the afternoon light out still, the terrifying possibility of the pack finding them out—it seems to be exciting in all the wrong ways.

“Derek”, he sighs, lips sensitive from beard burn. “I need—God—I need you to—to fuck me. Like. Yesterday”.

Derek's mouth descends on his neck and at the deep inhale of his arousal Stiles shivers, feeling like the teenager he used to be five years ago. “We don't have anything”.

AH! With a dramatic flourish – probably more ridiculous than dramatic. If only that Sourwolf would stop doing what he was doing with his mouth on his ne—oh. Oh, that's nice – Stiles takes out his phone from his back pocket and slips off the case. “Speak for yourself”. The small packet of KY seems to shine in their eyes, a little lost treasure, their own small miracle. “I think I have a rubber in my wallet as well”.

“Have you always had lube inside your phone case?”, Derek asks with a shocked expression. “And do we need a condom?”.

“Don't want to leak all over my underwear. Especially not around a pack of werewolves, thank you very much”. Stiles takes out a wrapper from his wallet and hands it to Derek before he resumes touching underneath the other's shirt. “And the answer is yes. From the moment we've started dating”.

They kiss, lips open and sharing breath. “Nice to know”.

“We need to—god—”. An aimed thrust sends shivers up his legs. “Derek—we need to move”.

He gets one of his hands down, slipping in the tight fit of Derek's jeans and the hard, big cock he touches through his underwear makes him moan and spread his legs as he leans back to push his hips outward. Stiles has touched it an endless number of times yet every time seems like a new experience, a new discovery.

At Stiles' touch Derek exhales, relieved and aroused. Those lean, slender fingers massage his cock with experienced motions and the grip they use after teasing it into full firmness is heaven for Derek's spurred mind. It doesn't matter if they're in the middle of the woods with a pack of werewolves only a mile away and probably listening in, the Beta can't help but await impatiently to be inside Stiles body and thrust into that heated tightness in abandonment. Maybe there's a part of him – the wild wolf that seems to constantly seek out freedom and nature – that is turned on exactly by that fact; the possibility of being found out while collecting his prize and marking his territory, his mate in the open.

The moment their jeans are undone and their erections brush against each other, Derek grabs Stiles slim hips and turns him quickly but not violently, his cheek now resting on the roughness of the bark and ass pushed back to rub on the wolf's cock. There's only their erratic panting for what feels like ages as Derek rips the lube open and then, “God, Der—Fuck me already”.

“I'm not gonna hurt you, Stiles. Especially not out here”.

“Then shove your fingers in me!”, he cries out turning at an odd angle to plead the wolf with his eyes. “Please, I need you inside. Right now. Please”.

Derek wants that. Oh, he so wants that. And from around that pale, sinewy body he can see Stiles' red dick skim slightly against the trunk of the tree. It can't be comfortable nor pleasurable and even though Stiles seems to have other things in his mind, Derek pulls his hips back a bit more to put more space between the delicate part and the pine husk. He doesn't spend much time warming up the lube and the moment his forefinger touches the puckered hole in front of him he sees Stiles jerk up before quickly settling down again. He prepared him as swiftly and efficiently as standing in the preserve half-naked would allow, Stiles moans and whimpers accompanying each thrust of his fingers.

“Please. Please, just fuck me. Just fuck me, Der”.

Through his lust-fogged mind Stiles hears Derek opening the condom wrapper and sigh deeply as he rolls it on. He wants to reach behind him and touch his shaft, feel the girth of it and its size. Wrap his fingers around it and when noticing he can't fit it all in one hand envelope it with his other one as well. He wants to feel its thickness opening him up, make him almost worry he's gonna split in two.

The first few inches are painful, they always are: Derek might not be overworldly big but he's certainly packing down there and every time he slips inside Stiles needs to relax, bear down and bite his lip until the head is in. It's what happens now, particularly because it's not the most convenient place to have sex despite the packet of lube and the arousal he gets from being so exposed to the elements. After the head is in though...that's when Stiles can remind himself why he craved it so much in the first place. Derek is inside him balls deep and at Stiles' nod he starts to move, thrust in and out. In and out. It's slow at first, careful but they do need to be quick in this situation. The aim is a bit off, the head of the hard cock pounding him simply caresses his prostate in the most heavenly torture sending abortive shivers up from his toes, shocking through his hips and reaching the tip of his own erection like an electric shock. Each thrust, each withdrawal forces moan after moan from his mouth, noises he can't control. Mumbling reaches his ears and with a small sense of amazement he notices it's him.

It's not the best sex they've had but Jesus if it's not the hottest. Derek's hand gripping his hips in a tight hold, his puckered hole contracting around the fat shaft sliding inside and out of him in pure abandonment. Derek slides closer, t-shirt covered chest shaping around Stiles' back, and the slight change of angle causes the wolf to groan in the brunet's ear. It's a sound so primal, so inborn in Derek that Stiles needs to close his eyes not to come right in that moment.

He's so close, though. So close. After getting used to Derek being inside of him without a barrier the rubber desensitises the feeling of being fucked a bit but it's not totally unpleasant; it's smoother and easier. Stiles doesn't know if it's the build-up, the idea of being out here in the forest in broad daylight or Derek's fat, big cock beating into him but he's about to come. He spreads the legs as wide as he can manage with the jeans around his knees and he almost brings his hands back to grab his cheeks and expose himself even further. He doesn't. He needs an anchor and right now the roughness of the bark on his fingertips, under his nails is the thing that keeps him grounded.

“Oh, my God. Der—Derek. Oh, God. Fuck me. Please, fuck me”.

“I am. Shit. You're gripping me so tight”.

“What if—oh, fuck. What if they see us? What if they find us?”.

Stiles senses Derek breath itch next to his ear. “Let them. You're mine. Let them see”.

Oh. My. God. Possessiveness is certainly a kink he didn't know he had. “Say that again”.

“You're mine. Let them see, I don't care. I want them to see. I want them to see you're mine”.

Oh God. Oh God, oh Godohgodohgod.

The orgasm hits him like a blinding light. His back snaps and he arches with the force of it, his cock pulsating and trembling as his cum sprays white on the dark bark. It's seemingly artistic in an erotic way. His insides constrict around Derek and through the condom he can feel his rod vibrate as his thrust become irregular. Slower. Deeper. He misses the sensation of Derek's come hitting his walls but he guesses they still have five hours if they leave now.

“Derek—shit”, Stiles pants out after they both regain their breaths, cheek still against the tree and hips still held by Derek.

“Yeah”.

“Who would've thought? Public sex is hot”.

“What the fuck guys?!”.

They both jump at the disgusted shout from behind them, Isaac currently standing there dumbstruck, hand on his eyes. “I'm gonna need bleach”.

Yeah. Maybe not as hot around a pack of werewolves.

[spencerreidsthings]

Economics Project

Masterlist

Here’s a Stile fanfic I wrote about a year ago. Let me know what you think!

“Hi, Sheriff Stilinski” I beamed after the door swung open. “Is Stiles here?” I’ve been crushing on him for a few months and could finally make a move because we were paired up for a project. We are both in the coach’s econ class and have to do research on the glass ceiling and how to break through it. “we’re working on a project together…”

The sheriff stared at me for a while before swinging the door open for me to walk in. “Stiles is in his room. I can take you up there.” He was still wearing his uniform and his boots sounded heavy on the hardwood.

“Did you just get off work, Sheriff?”

“Yeah. What’s your name?��

            “Oh, sorry I’m Alyssa. I forgot to introduce myself.”                     

The sheriff stopped in front of a closed door and knocked. “Will you be staying for dinner?” He asked as we waited for the door to open. “Stiles?” The sheriff asked again before moving in front of me to open the door and walk-in. “He’s not here. Jeez, if he snuck out again…” His voice trailed off before he turned to you. “Go ahead and sit down. I’ll figure out where he is.”

The sheriff walked out, and I set my bag on the ground. His room was very neat. The only thing that seemed out of place was a giant clear board with writing and photos. It looked like a crime board on the investigation shows. I sit down on the bed and notice the sheets and comforter match very well. All in a navy blue, which was sophisticated enough for stiles. The blanket was very fluffy, and I found myself wondering what it would be like to lay under it with Stiles.

Bare feet made slapping noises in the hallway and soon the door was filled with Stiles whose bare skin was covered in beads of water. The towel hanging low on his waist was held in place by one of his hands. “Shit. Um... Alyssa.” He did a double-take on you sitting there as if he didn’t believe that you were actually in his room. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here. Uh… what are you doing here?” His eyebrows furrowed at the end of his sentence and he stared at you seemingly having forgotten his current state of clothing.

“Our Econ projects. We decided to work on it today… right now.” I spoke slowly enough to make it seem as though Stiles was an idiot. He looked at me and then at the clock. The realization was evident on his face when his eyebrows reached his hairline.

“Right. Well- “

“Stiles” His dad interrupted with a booming voice. “Put some goddamn clothes on.” The sheriff still hadn’t removed his uniform and looked very tired.

 Stiles had asked me to wait outside his room while he got dressed so I made my way downstairs to get some water from the kitchen. Sheriff Stilinski was staring at a few pork chops on an oven pan. “Hi, Sheriff.” He jolted a little when he heard my voice but smiled when he turned around. “Could I get a glass of water?”

“Sure Alyssa, anything to get me away from this.” He mentioned wildly to the pork chops and sighed. “I just can’t figure out how to cook them. It’s been so many years and my wife usually made dinner”

My heart warmed at his words and I stared at the meal remembering how to cook the meal quickly in a skillet. “Do you mind if I do it?”

“Please.” The Sheriff got me everything I asked for and then sat himself down at the table to watch. His shoulders were more relaxed than I had seen since I walked into the house.  

Soon after I started and Stiles came downstairs fully dressed, I had finished the meal and was putting food on plates. Stiles’ feet shuffled across the tile toward the refrigerator. I was painfully aware of his presence behind me. And the whole thing seemed mundane. I was finishing up dinner and he poured the milk into glasses. He looked amazing in his dark red shirt and the way he looked up at me as I set the plate in front of him made me like him more.

“Alyssa, this looks amazing” the Sheriff expressed his gratitude without looking up from his plate. He immediately sunk his knife into the meat as I took the chair next to Stiles. “Thank you for making this. I couldn’t have done half as well as you did.” I smiled and began to eat. Throughout the meal, I glance at Stiles out of the corner of your eye.

“How’s the season?” I asked Stiles hoping to get him talking. I didn’t mind the silence but loved hearing him talk, especially when he gets excited. I go to every lacrosse game even if I only get to see him sitting on the bench. If the high school had a cheerleading squad, I would have joined so quickly.

“Well it only just started, but the team is getting really good.”

“I love going to the games and seeing you play” I blushed to myself after realizing what I had said in front of him and his dad and began to subconsciously backpedal. “I- I mean. It’s great that- that you get to play more. You’re getting really – really good.” My voice trails off when I look up and realize that they are both staring right at me. The sheriff froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. “I – uh. Sorry”

Dinner finished quietly and I was soon the only one eating. “Stiles.” His dad said, “Come help me with the dishes. Alyssa, you finish eating.” The two of them got to work on the table and washing the dishes. After they had cleared all the dishes but mine, I heard the water running and Stiles talking to his father. “Do you like Alyssa, son?” Mr. Stilinski asked.

“What do you mean, Dad?”

“I mean do you like her? Like, want to date her.”

My heart began racing as I waited in anticipation of his answer. I came to Beacon Hills a year ago and immediately made friends with Allison and Lydia. They told me that Lydia had just gotten out of a relationship that ended weird. I could tell they were leaving things out, but I was so glad to have friends that I didn’t want to push. They introduced me to Scott and Stiles who welcomed me into their friend group with open arms. I know there are things that they leave me out of, but it seems so serious that I really don’t feel as though I am missing anything. I really only see them during school. This is the first time I am visiting any of them outside of school. I noticed Stiles before I met him, and I was smitten. I could tell he would do anything for his friends and that even though he wasn’t as strong as Scott, he could protect his friends just as well. The clanging of dishes stopped and all that was heard was a steady stream of water. I knew that all actions had ceased and Stiles’ dad was staring at him waiting for an answer. So was I

“I-uh… I mean. I don’t know, dad” He sighed after saying this. That wasn’t exactly what I was expecting to hear, but it wasn’t a no. He had stopped looking at Lydia like a lost puppy, but he hasn’t mentioned anyone else.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” His dad’s voice was firm.

“I just, I can’t think about that right now. It’s just… I mean. Jackson just left and we just dealt with the alpha pack. Things are just settling down and I don’t want to mess things up in our friend group. As is, Scott and Allison are being awkward because they just broke up and I can just tell – “

“So, in other words. Yes?” Mr. Stilinski interrupted Stiles with a simple yes or no question. I was anxious to hear the answer.

“Uh… Yeah, Dad. Yeah”

I did a little victory dance in my head because I knew for sure. Stiles was into me and I had a chance. I won’t have to see him pining over Lydia anymore.

“She likes you too, ya know?” Mr. Stilinski continued. “I can tell by the way she looks at you. She got so excited talking about lacrosse and I can guarantee you that she did her hair before coming here to study. Didn’t she?”

“Her hair does look different.”

“How different?”

“It was in a braid during school. It’s down now.” He actually noticed how I did my hair. I braided it the night before so it would be curly when I came to his house.

“See. And she looks at you the same way you look at her.”

Their conversation ceased and they continued to take care of the dishes. I brought mine into the kitchen and saw Stiles up to his elbows in soapy water. The Sheriff was leaning against the counter watching him. “Hey, Alyssa. Thanks again for making supper.”

I smiled and nodded. “It’s no problem. I love to cook. Is there a dishwasher?”

“No. It broke this morning. Just set it on the counter and Stiles will wash them.”

I set my dishes on the counter next to the other dirty ones and looked up at Stiles. His eyes wouldn’t meet my gaze. “Would you like me to help?” I asked him

“No. You can go wait upstairs. I’ll be done in a minute.” His tone was dismissive, which was expected. He had just finished talking to his father about how he feels about me. He doesn’t know what I heard, but it must be awkward.  

I was finally alone. Mr. Stilinski sat in his study working on a case and Stiles was cleaning the kitchen. I stood in the middle of Stiles's room waiting for him to finish. He had his jersey sitting on a chair in the corner of the room along with his stick. On his shelves were a variety of different books and string. Things weren’t really in order, more than they were just slightly out of order. The pins were spilling out of their container and he had papers laying all over his desk. I love the shade of his blankets.

While waiting for Stiles to finish I sat on his bed and read a book of folklore. I soon lay half my body on his bed and let my legs dangle off. I read of dark spirits and how they insert a host body. All the possible side effects and how the host might be affected. They could look the same as always but act completely out of character. An antisocial girl becomes a party animal. A sexually active man becomes celibate. But all the spirits have one thing in common: they come to cause destruction.

“Hey. Sorry, it took so long.” I sat up on his bed once I heard his voice.

“Don’t worry about it.” He stood in the doorway looking like a stranger in his own room. I figured that we could break the ice a little. “Wanna play cards?” He looked at me like I was crazy, but he joined me on his bed as I pulled a deck of cards out of my backpack. We played go fish while I drilled him with questions, but his answers were short, and I could sense the awkwardness.

“I heard you talking to your dad.” Stiles froze in the middle of shuffling the deck.

“You – uh… you did?” He stared down at his hands. “You heard all of it?”

I smiled a little. “Yeah. All of it.” We stared at our hands for a few minutes. I tried to find something brilliant to say but came up short. I always pictured this in my dreams, but never in real life. He was still staring at his hands, but then again so was I.

“Alyssa.” Stiles whispered, “Can I – Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

He placed his hand on the back of my neck and pulled my lips closer to his. I took the initiative and straddled his lap. My skirt rising up my legs. Stiles connected our lips and my hands wrapped in his hair. His free hand ran up my thighs and rested just under the hem of my skirt. Our kiss wasn’t wild or needy. It was soft. Our lips met for a while then we pulled apart and did it again. It was how I imagined it would feel to kiss Stiles. After a while, I felt his pants harden and he tensed up.

A cough interrupted us, and we quickly broke apart. I landed flat on my ass when Stiles pushed me off his lap and he put a pillow in his lap. The Sheriff stood in the doorway in blue dad jeans and a white tee shirt. He was leaning against the door jam with his arms crossed.

“Hi, Dad,” Stiles said in his quirky voice and waved with a smirk.

“Just keep the door open. Okay?” He walked away before either of us could answer.

I looked over and Stiles, meeting his eyes for the first time tonight. He had a smirk playing on his lips. “Can I take you on a date?”

I smiled and leaned over to kiss him again.

[dobseventeen]

Please, baby? Just for me?

A/N: Okay this was a request that I received a few weeks ago and it was SO much fun to write. S/O to the Anon who requested this, you da best! This is my first Stiles fic and it’s PURE FILTH. It’s not very canon, so i’m sorry (?). Let me know what you think and as always, send me every request your little heart can think of!

Request: “Stiles or Dylan always begs the reader to not wear underwear on their dates and she always refuses. She finally surprises him when they are the movie theater to see Star Wars and smut ensues.”

Word Count: 7,220

WARNINGS: THIS IS DIRTY AS HELL. DADDY KINK (so much daddy kink); lots of public teasing, bondage, spanking, blinfolding, gagging, like i said PURE FILTH. SO MUCH DADDY KINK. Enjoy friends :-)

Song: There is a song link in the text that goes with that certain part of the story, so listen to it while reading if you want the full effect. Or don’t. Totally up to you lmao. 

“Stiles, come on! We’re going to be late! ” you yelled through the condo to your boyfriend.

“I’m coming, babe! Give me one second!” he yelled back, while buttoning up the black shirt he wore. 

You both had plans to go to dinner with your friends Scott and Allison, whom you were supposed to meet at the restaurant in five minutes. That definitely wasn’t happening, seeing as you lived seven blocks away. You rolled your eyes at the thought of being late, again, due to Stiles’ poor time keeping. This dinner was important because it was to celebrate Scott and Allison’s recent engagement, and now they were going to be waiting on the both of you. 

The restaurant was a fancy one, which required that you wear nice attire. You wore a simple red dress that hugged your body in all the right places, with thin straps draped over your shoulders. You were doing a once-over in the mirror when you heard Stiles walk into the kitchen, your breath immediately getting caught in your throat when your eyes landed on the man in front of you. He wore khaki pants that you swore were crafted just for him by the way hung off his hips, paired with his black button-down shirt that fit perfectly over his sculpted chest and shoulders. He had his sleeves pushed up his forearms, which were reaching up to adjust his perfectly tousled, chocolate hair. 

“Sorry, Y/N. I lost track of time again.” he said as he approached you, taking in your appearance for the first time that evening. 

“Damn, baby. You look... amazing. Like you always look good, but right now, you look GOOD.” he stated with wide, gleaming eyes. 

“I could say the same for you, Stilinksi. You know what that shirt does to me, babe.” you replied with a sultry smirk. 

He began slowly walking closer to you, as he placed a hand on the side of your face. “Hmmm, I’m not sure if I know what you’re talking about, kitten?” he questioned, his voice laced with pure seduction. 

You quivered at his words and turned into his touch. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Stiles. You know that I find you irresistible in that shirt, and by the end of the night I always have to practically beg you to let me take it off.” 

Stiles was now leaning into you, his lips ghosting over your collarbone and neck, as his hands roamed down the sides of your body. “Ahhh, yes kitten, now I remember. But you know that you never truly have to beg. You know what the magic word is to make this shirt come off.”

You looked at him defiantly, knowing exactly where he was going with this conversation. Instead of falling into his deviant trap, you decided to play his games. You perched up and placed a quick kiss on his cheek as you walked away to grab your purse, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Stiles.” You placed emphasis on the mention of his name, knowing it would drive him crazy that you didn’t call him what he wanted. 

He let out a low groan, “Babe, could you just play along, for me? I’m in the mood to make tonight interesting. Please, baby? Just for me?” 

“Interesting, huh? And why’s that?” you questioned in an innocent tone. 

“You think it’s easy for me to see you in that dress and try to suppress all the dirty, kinky thoughts that come to my mind?” he answered clearly. 

You were intrigued. “Mmmm, what other dirty thoughts are going through your mind right now, Stiles?” you spoke lowly, placing emphasis on the “S” in his name, while walking closer to him.

A light pink hue dusted across his cheeks, but he didn’t falter. “Well to start, I really wish you’d stop calling me by my name, kitten, and secondly, I’d like that dress to be the ONLY thing you wear tonight. Nothing else.” He was now looking down at you with piercing, caramel eyes. Your breathing instantly hitched and electricity jolted through your veins. You knew exactly what he was getting at. 

You walked up and placed two hands on the exposed skin of his forearms. “As fun as that sounds, babe, we’re already five minutes late for dinner, and out of fear that Scott will kick your ass for running behind again, we need to get going. I promise I’ll make it up to you, daddy.” You whispered the last sentence in his ear, this close proximity allowing you to hear his breathing rate change. You took notice that his khakis became a little tighter, causing your knees to go a little weak. 

“You kill me, kitten. But I’ll let it go this time.” he spoke as he looked up at the ceiling, trying to regain his composure. You started walking towards the door to your apartment, swaying your hips a little extra, giving Stiles a show. 

“You’re evil, you know that? And by the way, Scott couldn’t kick my ass if his life depended on it!” he barked out as he followed behind you. 

Stiles always had a thing for making you go commando. Whether it be a day that you were both at work, on separate sides of the city, or out on a date, he always loved the thrill of knowing that you wore nothing underneath your clothes, per his request. More often than not, though, you turned down his pleas. Don’t get it twisted, you loved the idea of it all just as much as him, but it would make it way less hot if you did it every single time he asked, which was at least once a week. You wanted your panties residing in his pocket to be a special, rare occurrence, because it ultimately led to mind-blowing sex after an intense few hours of role playing. 

It had been about three months since your last panty-free night, and you could tell Stiles was getting antsy. You had turned him down at least ten times since, and you knew he was dying for one of your lace thongs to be in his pants pocket. You decided to throw him a bone tonight, because you were desperately craving the intense, passionate, kinky sex that always came with leaving your core bare. 

You were in your bathroom finishing up your makeup when you heard Stiles shouting for you. “Babe, where do you want to go to dinner tonight?” 

You double checked yourself in the mirror before walking out to him. You wore a a light-grey suede skirt, which accentuated your tan legs, with a black crop top, and a pair a wedges. Underneath you were wearing a bright red lace lingerie set, which was destined to be half removed before you made it to the restaurant. You walked into the living room confidently, ready to begin a game that Stiles didn’t know he was playing. 

“Oh, I don’t care, baby. As long as I can have a few glasses of wine, I’ll be happy.” you spoke with a hint of seduction, your tone causing Stiles to perk up on the couch. He took in your outfit and could’ve instantly started drooling. The combination of your skirt with the wedges made your legs look nothing short of delicious. 

“Shit, babe. You look so sexy in that outfit.” he spoke in a low groan, trying to fight off the surge of blood that was directed towards his groin. 

“You think so, daddy?” you said as you started to slowly make your way over to him. Your own actions were beginning to take effect on you, as your felt the lust in your veins begin to pulsate. 

“Fuck, kitten. So this is the kind of night we will be having?” he said as his voice dropped an octave, making your knees weak. 

“Mhmmmm...” you cooed as you walked up to him and threw your legs over either side of him. You weren’t yet sitting on his lap, just straddling him while your breasts were put on display right in front of his face. 

He looked up to you through his lashes, “Now now, kitten. You wouldn’t be trying to tease daddy right now, would you?” He spoke as his hands started rubbing up and down the smooth, exposed skin on your thighs. 

“Oh no, I would never tease daddy. I know what happens when I tease daddy.” you said with blush covering your cheeks. You were used to this kind of role playing, but it never failed to make you feel completely vulnerable in the moment. Regardless, you both loved every second of it. 

Stiles reached up to push a piece of hair behind you ear, “That’s a good girl. What else are good girls supposed to do before we leave the house?” 

You didn’t say a word. You simply got up off the couch and stood directly in front of him. He scooted forward to the edge of his seat. He held intimate eye contact with you as his lips connected with the exposed skin on your stomach, just below your bellybutton. His touch sent a noticeable shiver down your spine, causing him to smirk. You ran your hands through his dark hair as he began running his calloused hands up your legs, starting at your ankles and ending just below your ass, under the skirt. He looped his fingers around the red lace on each side of your body and began slowly sliding them down your legs, freeing them from the suede confines of the skirt. He muttered an “Oh fuck” once the bright color of the lace was exposed to him. He jerked his head up to you, with his hands still holding the material around your calves. 

“You know what this color does to me, kitten. Care to explain?” he questioned, feigning a temper. 

“I just wanted to look good for you sir, I know how much y-” you were interrupted before you could finish.

“Excuse me? What did you just call me?” he was now standing, your thong in hand. 

“I’m sorry, daddy. I misspoke. Please forgive me.” you spoke with a playfully innocent voice, looking up at him with wide eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing.

“Well, for now, your punishment is that these are going to be residing in my pocket for the rest of the night. But once we return from our night out, you will certainly have another punishment coming.” he stated in a confident tone, while a smirk was plastered across his face. He absolutely loved playing these kinds of games with you. Being able to take dominance over you wasn’t something he got to do very often, so he relished in every second of it when given the chance. He knew you loved it too, or else he would never take it to the level that you guys normally do. 

You could practically feel yourself dripping from his actions and words alone, wanting nothing more than to call off the night out and stay in bed all evening, but you knew that the anticipation would be worth it by the time you made it back later that night.  

“We need to go now, kitten, or else we will miss the movie. Are you ready to go?” he spoke in a stern voice while resting a hand on your cheek. 

You looked up at him with wide eyes, “Yes, daddy.” 

You were sitting across from Stiles in a small, causal restaurant, finding yourself thankful that you were across from him and not next to him. You knew that if you were next to him, he’d inevitably be trying to tease you under the table. Little did you know, that Stiles already had his own plan in mind. 

“How is your food, babe?” he asked before taking a sip of his beer. 

“It’s so good! I’m glad I went for the steak instead of the chicken.” you said after finishing a bite. 

Your guys’ ability to switch from reality to role playing never failed to impress you. One minute you could be biting his ear and calling him daddy, and the next minute be innocently holding his hand while he called you baby. It made the whole situation a million times more fun and exciting that you could easily navigate the two scenarios. 

“Mmmm, I’m glad to hear that, kitten.” he spoke lowly, his whiskey eyes glaring straight into you. 

Your head instantly shot up, more than ready to continue your game. “Thank you for dinner, daddy. You always know how to take care of me.” 

“You’re right, kitten, I do always know how to take care of you.” he said with a hint of mystery, causing you to turn your head side ways at him. You wondered what he meant by that, even though you already had a good idea. 

He shifted forward in his seat, his gaze fixed on the TV on the wall above your head, but his attention was directed completely at you. You then felt his hand clasp around your ankle, pulling it up to his lap. His eyes were now fixed on you, waiting to see your reaction. You instantly start to blush, wondering what his next move would be. For a minute or so he just traced circles around your ankle bones, while casually sipping his beer. His hand started progressively traveling up your calf, to your knee, and finally resting on the inside of your thigh. His simple yet tender movements sent sparks through you, causing a knot to begin forming in your abdomen. You had to readjust in your seat to escape the dull ache that was taking place between your legs, causing your leg to slightly pull away from his embrace, and Stiles didn’t fail to notice. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he said with a sultry inflection.

“Uhmm, I-uhhh, I had to just change the way I was sitting.” you mumbled out. 

“And why would you need to do that, kitten? Am I getting you all riled up?” he said as he lightly tugged your leg back into its previous position. This movement caused friction against your groin, and you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together. Stiles raised an eyebrow at your action.

“Ah ah ah, what you do you think you’re doing? We are in public, kitten. Good girls wait until were home to give themselves relief.” he said whilst squeezing the area above your knee, causing your breathing to shallow.

“I’m sorry daddy, you’re right. I-it-t... it won’t happen again.” you spoke quietly, looking up at him through your lashes. 

Stiles reach out to graze your cheek as he released your leg back to the ground, “That’s a good girl. Now finish your wine or else we will be late for our movie.” 

You chuckled to yourself when he said “our movie”. He was taking you to see the new Star Wars movie that he couldn’t stop talking about since they released the production details two years ago. You were never really into Star Wars, but he was, and you’d do anything for this man that you loved. So if that meant sitting in a theater full of children and middle-aged men so he could see his movie, then so be it. 

You were staring out the window admiring the view, working on finishing off your third glass of wine, when you felt two strong hands grab onto your thighs. Before you could realize what was happening, you felt Stiles run two fingers along your folds while placing soft kisses along your thighs. You stomach dropped, instantly afraid someone would notice your dark hair boyfriend taking refuge under the table cloth. Luckily, you were both seated in a semi-private area and there was no one around at the moment. Your breathing hitched when you felt two fingers plunge into you, eliciting a gasp from your mouth. You instantly put a hand to cover your mouth while scanning the room, relieved no one was there to witness your current state. 

“STILES, you need to stop!” you whisper shouted to him as kept pushing and pulling his digits out of you. You could feel his smirk on the skin of your left thigh, knowing he was enjoying every moment of this. He then bit your skin, signalling that you had been a “bad girl” for calling him by his name. Damn him making you hate him and desire him, all at the same time. 

“Daddy, please stop.” you muttered out between shallow breaths. Just like that, he retreated from below the table, a permanent smirk resting on his face as he openly licked his fingers clean of your juices. At the same time, your waiter emerged from around the corner with your bill in hand. With one of his fingers still in his mouth, he reached up with his left hand to grab the check. You were in awe at his boldness, making you want him even more. 

As the waiter walked away he let out a chuckle, “Close call, huh?”

“You’re insane, babe. You’re SO lucky no one walked by.” you said with a hint of exasperation. 

“What can I say, you’re pretty fucking irresistible, Y/N/N.” he said with a coy smile as he placed money down for the tip. You both stood up from the table, Stiles taking your hand into his.

“By the way, you just added yourself another punishment for when we get home, kitten.” he whispered deeply into your ear as you led him towards the door. You weren’t sure if it was the insane level of arousal you had been holding back all day, or the alcohol coursing through your system, but you felt that his words alone could’ve made you cum, right here in the middle of the restaurant. Stiles noticed, and wrapped an arm around your waist as your knees slightly wobbled. 

“Oh baby, tonight is going to be SO much fun.” he laughed as he placed a sweet kiss on your cheek. 

From the second you both sat down in the theater, you were on high alert. You knew it wouldn’t take long for Stiles to start using your open access to his full advantage, even if Star Wars was playing in the background. You were surprised when you were already thirty minutes into the movie and the only touching he’d done was holding your hand, as your head leaned against his shoulder. Maybe he really did want to put his full attention to the movie? You weren’t going to question it, taking all the time you could to try and stifle the lust flowing through your veins like a damn monsoon.

He must’ve read your mind, because right when you started to calm down from the arousal, his long fingers began tracing up and down your thigh. Ugh, damn this man. You lifted your head from his shoulder, making instant eye contact with him as your breaths became shortened. He had already been watching you, hoping he could see the visceral effect his simple touches had on you. Lucky him. 

He turned his head to the side, giving you a playful look, feigning innocence, “What’s up, babe?” 

“You know what’s up, Stilinksi.” you said, rolling your eyes. 

You instantly felt his grasp under your chin, turning your head to meet his gaze, “Kitten, you know better than to roll your eyes at me like that. I hope you know that is now three punishments you having waiting for you at home.” 

His voice was so guttural and sexy, all you could manage to get out was a simple “I’m sorry, daddy.” 

“Now, kitten, I’m going to need you to sit back and relax, or else you will make a scene. Do you understand me?” his words were rigid and laced with pure desire.

You simply nodded, the anticipation for what was to come not allowing you to form a coherent sentence. Stiles swiftly lifted the arm rest between your two chairs and wrapped his arm around your torso, pulling you closer to him. He lifted both of your legs to his lap while your head returned to its place on his shoulder. Your breathing became heavy as his calloused fingers started rubbing at your calf. He gently massaged your leg muscles as he worked his way up to the hem of your skirt. At this point you had your eyes closed and had a hand tangled in the material of his shirt on his chest. He looked down at you and instantly broke out into a smile. He adored the way you reacted to him, especially when you let yourself be vulnerable and submissive to him; he could never get enough of it. He promptly broke the threshold of your skirt and swiped a finger slowly through your folds, while his other hand massaged your thigh. The instant his finger lingered over your clit, your whole body jolted and tensed. While Stiles loved seeing you react to his touch, he knew he needed to keep up with his act. 

He turned his head to look down at you, noticing you biting your bottom lip. The sight caused a shock wave of arousal to flood his body, landing at his cock, eliciting a low groan to fall from his lips. 

“Kitten, I thought I told you not to make a scene? Do you want me to make a scene? Let everyone in here know how much of bad girl you are?” he whispered with pure seduction into your ear. 

“No, I will be a good girl, I promise.” you spoke quickly, hoping it would get him to resume his actions. 

“Good. You better stop biting your lip like that too. I am the only one allowed to nibble on your irresistible lips.” he said in a stern voice. 

All you could manage was a nod as you looked at him with wide, gleaming eyes. You were loving every second of this. Stiles was such a passionate and warm person, which was one of the many reasons why you loved him, but there was something about him being completely dominant over you that completely enveloped you in bliss. To be able to see this completely different side of him was something only you could do, and you loved the idea of it. 

After basically being teased and fingered during the whole movie, it’s safe to say that you were a complete wreck by the time the lights in the theater came back on, casting dim light over its inhabitants. You were a panting-mess from being denied your orgasm every time you got close. Another punishment I guess. 

Stiles was more than satisfied with the work he had done. Not only was he able to see Star Wars with the girl he was head over heels in love with, but also held her in the palm of his with each twitch of her legs and moan she muffled into his shirt. He looked down at you with adoration-filled eyes. 

“Whats the matter, baby? You seem a little out of breath?” he said with a devilish smirk. 

You deadpanned up to him, “You know exactly whats wrong!” 

“Don’t act like I’m not going to take care of you once we get home. You’ve been such a good girl and all.” he said with a wink as he helped you up from your seat, your knees inevitably weak. 

“You fucking better.” was all you could mutter as he led you out of the theater. 

You sat in the passenger seat of Stiles’ jeep, looking out the windshield, stroking your hand across his, which was rested on your leg. The desire in the air was palpable. You had both successfully drove each other crazy the entire night, and now the only thing left to do was go home and take care of the lust that was running through both of your bodies like wildfire. 

“You seem quiet, kitten, is everything okay?” Stiles asked when he noticed your withdrawn state. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” you said with a small smile, not looking at him. 

“Y/N. Whats wrong, babe?” he questioned.

The use of your first name brought you out of your thoughts. You turned to look at Stiles, a genuine smile on your face, “I’m fine, seriously. Just thinking.”

“Well, what are you thinking about, gorgeous?” he said, visibly more relaxed now that he knew you weren’t upset. 

“You.” you hummed sweetly, while tilting your head to take a good look at him. 

“Yeah? What about me?” he said while glancing over, giving your thigh a light squeeze. You couldn’t help but admire how the passing street lights lit up his whiskey eyes as he navigated back to your shared condo. He was easily the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on. 

“Oh, just how much I love you and couldn’t imagine my life without you.” you cooed, stroking the back of his hand. 

A light blush covered his cheeks, “You’re so goddamn amazing, did you know that? I’m the luckiest man ever. I love you so much.” he said in a clear voice, with adoration apparent in his expression.

“I love you too, Sti.” you replied, lifting his hand to your lips and giving it a light peck. 

“Can I ask you something?” he suddenly spoke.

“Of course.”

“You would tell me if you were ever uncomfortable or not okay with the role playing, right? The last thing I ever want to do is make you feel uneasy or self-conscious.” he asked in a serious tone, stealing looks at you whenever he could while trying to pay attention to the road in front of him. 

“Stiles, I promise if I wasn’t okay with it, I would tell you or I would stop it in the moment. I enjoy all of it just as much as you do... even when you edge me for a whole fucking night.” you stated with a smirk plastering your face after the last sentence. 

“God, I love you. I promise I’m going to make that up to you right fucking now.” he replied as he threw the jeep in park. You hadn’t even noticed that you were in front of your building. You couldn’t even get a word out before Stiles hopped out of the driver seat and made his way around the jeep to your door. He opened it and took your hand. As you stepped away from the jeep Stiles pulled at your hand, stopping you from moving forward toward the front door. 

(A/N: Here is a song that goes with mood of the rest of the story, super hot!!)

You stood facing your condo as Stiles pulled your hair behind your ear and leaned down, “You were such a good girl at the movie, kitten. I almost forgot about the three punishments I still owe you.” he seductively whispered into your ear, leaving light kisses down your jaw once he finished. 

You instantly took a sharp breath in, the arousal undoubtedly landing at your core again. He began tracing along the hem of your crop top, causing you to shudder under his touch. 

“Let’s get you inside so I can take care of you.” with that, he picked you up bridal style and carried you into your condo. 

Stiles kicked the front door shut and carried you through your home, past the living room and kitchen, and into the master bedroom. He sat your feet down to the floor near the foot of your bed. 

“Stay right here, kitten. I’ll be back.” he said coolly as he disappeared into the closet on the other side of the room. 

Before he could emerge from the closet, you heard his low, sultry voice give it’s first order of the night, “Close your eyes, kitten, and do not open them.”

You did as you were told and a few seconds later you felt his hand cup your cheek, causing you to lean into his touch, silently begging for more. His hand disappeared and you felt your eyes being covered. This motherfucker is blind folding me. 

“But I want to be able to see you, daddy.” you whined. 

Stiles was now standing behind you, with his arms wrapped around your shoulders, his teeth lightly nibbling your ear. 

“Ah ah ah, good girls don’t complain, do they? This is what you get for rolling your eyes at me tonight.” he fired back.

“No, they don’t.” you muttered as he started lightly sucking and kissing down the nape of your neck, to your shoulder. 

“Exactly. Now, I need you to lay down on your belly, kitten. It’s time for your first punishment.” he hummed as he delicately pushed you onto the bed. You laid there with your forehead resting on top of your folded arms waiting to see what Stiles had in store for you. 

You felt like you had laid there for hours and you began to get impatient, the lack of release from the movie theater starting to get to you. Without thinking, you turned your head around and lifted up the blindfold. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Stiles spoke from the corner of the room, quickly approaching you. The electricity coursing through your body jolted. You were filled with pure excitement and desire, even though you “broke the rules”. 

“Did you really just break another rule, kitten? Do you know what that means?” he scoffed while gripping your chin. He slid the blindfold back over your eyes and sat down on the edge of the king-sized bed. You had a pretty good idea about what was coming, and it made the ache between your legs grow. 

“Lay across my lap and let me show you what happens when you break four rules in one night.” he stated with a slight bit of amusement in his voice as he unzipped your skirt, letting it fall to the floor.

You followed his orders and laid across his legs, your ass slightly sticking up, silently enticing him. Before you could get a word out, you felt a hard slap on your bottom that immediately evoked a moan out of your mouth. This pressure caused the knot in your stomach to tighten and the arousal between your legs to start dripping.

“Mmmm, that’s a good girl.” he cooed.

Another slap can down onto you before you had the chance to relish fully in the last one. Your back arched, prompting Stiles to use his free hand to hold you down. Three, four, five slaps later and you were a writhing mess below him, the pain giving you just as much pleasure. 

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson, kitten?” he questioned whilst gently rubbing the red marks on your butt.

“Yes, daddy, I have.” you spoke between breaths. 

“Good, now lay back down on your back and DO NOT remove your blindfold, do you understand me?” he barked. 

“Yes, daddy, I understand.” you muttered as you slowly laid down on the bed, being careful not to put too much pressure on your sore bottom. Stiles watched as you settled into the bed, satisfied with his handy work, even though he felt the slightest bit of guilt knowing he induced your affliction. He knew just how to make it up to you. 

You could hear Stiles scurrying around the closet, and your mind began racing wondering what he had up his sleeve next. You felt the bed dip towards your feet and your heart began to race, more than ready for what he had lined up for you. 

“Such a beautiful girl, kitten. Let me take care of you.” he spoke lowly while his lips ghosted over your clavicle and his hands roamed the sides of your body. He pulled at the hem of your shirt, and quickly yanked it over your head, careful not to move the blindfold in the process. 

“Oh fuck.” he muttered in his regular, Stiles voice. The lace lingerie obviously caught him by surprise. You smirked in response. 

You then felt something being wrapped tightly around your left wrist, ultimately tying it the corner of the headboard. This motherfucker is tying me to the bed. 

All you could manage to get out was a mumbled, “Oh my god.”

“I know you’re being a good girl now, but I still have to deliver your punishments for the stunts you pulled earlier, do you understand? The blindfold is one, your spanking was two, and these black ties of mine that are pinning you the headboard makes three.” he stated while tying up your right wrist. 

“I understand, but weren’t there supposed to be four punishments, daddy?” you questioned, feigning innocence. 

“Don’t worry about that for now, you’ll get your fourth one soon.” he spoke in your ear as he began kissing down your neck to your chest, leaving light purple marks as he went. He started nibbling at the red lace that covered your chest, his hot breath grazing over your cleavage. He reached his right hand around and unclasped the bra, pulling it off in one swift motion. Your nipples stood erect due to the immediate exposure to the cool air off the bedroom. You heard Stiles audibly groan at the sight, which filled you with warmth. You loved how much he adored you, even if you struggled to understand it sometimes. He leaned down and took your nipple into his mouth, tenderly sucking and nibbling, giving you waves of pleasure that landed between your legs. Looking for any kind of friction, you clenched your legs around Stiles’ body as he worked his way over to your other breast. He let out a low growl at your action and instantly used his strong arms to spread your legs apart again, 

“Kitten, I am the one that is going to please you, not you or anyone else, do you understand? You are mine and I will take care of you in every single way that you crave, but you better be patient with me, or I will make you wait longer.” he scolded, looking up at your blindfolded face through his dark lashes. You looked so angelic to him in that moment, even with half your face covered. 

“Yes, daddy.” you cooed, loving every bit of dominance he was throwing at you. 

Your core was aching, dying for any kind of attention. You were undoubtedly dripping by this point when Stiles was kissing down your ribs and stomach, pausing at your hip bones, giving them a light suck, leaving a purple bruise on each. At the same time his hands were squeezing on your thighs, slowly working their way up to where you needed them the most. His face was now ghosting over your folds, his hot breath fanning over your core, sending sparks of electricity to the knot in your stomach. 

“Hmmm, kitten you’re dripping. You’ve already made such a mess.” he whispered.

“Please, daddy, please. I need you. ” you begged, needing him now more than ever. Stiles couldn’t deny you any longer after hearing your radiant voice begging for him. He plunged a finger inside of you, eliciting a guttural moan from your lips as you tugged at the restraints around your wrists. All you wanted was to run your fingers through his chocolate locks. Damn him. He was working himself in and out of you, making your breathing heavier. He then inserted a second finger into you, your back arching in response. He quietly chuckled at your reaction and used his free hand to pin down your stomach. As he started moving his hands in a swift “come here” motion, his lips enveloped your clit with a delicate suck, provoking you to take a sharp breath in, releasing a loud moan as you exhaled. He began licking erratically at your clit, bring you closer to the release you needed. You were now pulling and grabbing at the restraints around your wrists, panting heavily, chasing the high that you had been denied all night. You finally lost it when you realized that Stiles was spelling out his name on your clit, ending each letter with him flattening out his tongue on you, before spelling out the next. This sequence, mixed with his assault on your G-spot brought you to the orgasm you so craved. 

“C’mon kitten, cum for daddy.” he hummed, sending vibrations through your groin.

The knot in your stomach snapped as your body convulsed, your juices flooding Stiles face and hand. He lapped and licked up every bit you had to over and he helped you ride out your euphoria.  

“Mmmmm, so delicious, kitten. Such a good girl.” he cooed as he emerged from between your legs. By this point, Stiles was sporting a raging boner that he’d been trying to conceal all night. He had been just as turned on as you had been, but didn’t want to falter in his dominant role. He couldn’t go much longer without a release, fearing he’d actually implode. He leaned up to kiss your trembling lips, still coming down from your high. 

His dick lightly brushed your thigh in his movement, causing that knot to start tightening in you once again. “Mmmm, daddy, I think it’s your turn.” you murmured into his kiss. 

“I think you’re right kitten, but there’s still one more punishment I have to give you first.” he calmly stated as he retreated back into the closet. Your mind was blank as you tried recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm, when you suddenly felt Stiles hand brush your cheek. 

“Just one more punishment, kitten. Are you ready for it?” he questioned with sweet, caring tone. You could tell he wanted nothing more than to tell you how much loved you in the moment, but didn’t want to give up his role just yet.

You simply nodded your head, ready for whatever he was wanting to do to you in order to get him to bury himself deeply in between your legs. 

“Okay kitten, open your mouth then.” he requested. 

You were half expecting him to lower his dick in your mouth, despite the compromising position you were in. When you felt cloth drape across your mouth, you knew exactly what he was doing. Another fucking tie. He tied it behind your head and brushed a piece of hair off your face.

“See, kitten, you called me the wrong name more than once today, and that is simply not acceptable. This is to be sure you don’t do it again.” he blankly said. While you hated not being able to speak, you loved the force he was inflicting on you in this moment. While his words and actions were so dominant, his tone and presence was so sweet. It was a dangerous mixture. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard the distinct sound of a zipper being drawn down, instantly filling you with excitement. Seeing that you were completely and utterly unable to see, touch, and speak to him, he had to take off his own clothes for once. You felt the bed dip beside you and your hips instinctively jerked up, needing some kind of attention. Stiles smirked to himself at the action, loving that you were so submissive to him in the moment. He could’ve looked at you all tied up like this for hours. He ran his hands up your thighs, silently letting you know to prepare yourself. He teased his cock at your dripping entrance before sliding in completely, in one swift motion. 

You moaned and bit into the tie that was now between your teeth, loving the feeling of him bottoming out in you. You arched your back and locked your legs around him as he pounded in and out of you, the knot getting tighter and tighter in your core. You were coating his dick in your juices every time he emerged from you. The feeling of your walls hugging and gripping every inch of him was nothing short of divine. 

“Fuck baby.” he spoke in a breathy moan, not caring that he let up on his role playing. 

Your teeth were clinching his now ruined tie as you felt him twitch within you; you knew he was getting close. He began rubbing circles at your clit, trying to get you to same place he was. You moaned loud, trying to rid yourself of the makeshift gag. Stiles could tell you wanted it gone, and he wanted nothing more than to look into your eyes as he filled you with his cum. He reached up and swiftly untied both ties that were secured around your face, and you were relieved to meet the eyes of your blissed-out boyfriend. He gave you a sweet smile as he continued pistoning into you, rubbing your clit, chasing total euphoria for the both of you. 

He wanted to have one more moment of pure dominance before that though. He knew you were close once you started moving your hips in sync with his, and the second that he moved his hand from your clit, you replaced it with your own, not wanting to lose the progress he made. The sight made his orgasm creep up on him as his hand gingerly reached behind your head and wove itself into your hair and pulled, eliciting a passionate moan from your mouth.

“Kitten, you aren’t allowed to cum until you tell me what my name is. Tell me who tied you up and is making you cum for the second time tonigt? Hmm, say it! Say my name, kitten!” his words were laced with pure sultry and ecstasy, and you completely lost it, not able to handle it any longer.

“Ugh, daddy!!!” you screamed through shallow breaths as you fought against the wrist restraints. Your reaction caused Stiles to reach the brink, spilling his seed deep into you, lust flowing freely through his whole body.

He toppled down beside you trying to recover from the intense amount of pleasure he just experienced, taking in deep breaths. “I love you so much, baby.” he said as he looked down at your with passion-filled eyes.

“I love you too, Stiles, but could you please untie me now?” you said with a small chuckle. 

“Oh my god, yes, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” he apologized as he sprung up to untie you. Your arms instantly fell around his neck, loving the feeling of being in his embrace after such an intense night. He helped lower you down your a side since your arms were inevitably sore. 

“You’re so fucking amazing, baby. That was so much fun.” he cooed as he gave your forehead a kiss. 

“Stiles, that was fucking amazing. You know exactly how to get me going every damn time. I’m so glad I found someone as kinky as I am. By the way, I probably ruined at least one of those ties. ” you responded, looking deep into his whiskey eyes. 

“You can ruin all my ties if it means we can do that again.” he said with a wink. 

“If we do that again, they aren’t going to be used on me, baby.” you said in a seductive voice as you gave him a wink. 

“Oh fuck.” was he could manage as he looked at you with lust-filled eyes. 

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Just Benefits, Not Friends - Stiles  (part 1)

.Request: OMG I love your work! It's all so amazing! I have a request actually. Can you write a Stiles "Friends with beneftis" type of thing? I've seen you write smutty stuff previously... Anyway, if you can do it, thank you <3

God damn it. I only wanted to make a quick friends with benefits type of thing. But NOO... I had to go full crazy mode and write way too much.  Well, guess what. This is going to have more parts. 

I think that the tutle sums it up pretty nicely.

Word count: 2525

Warnings: mention of nudity, smut, underage drinking, cheating, swearing. 

part 2  - part 3  - part 4  - part 5 - part 6 

“Soo,” you said, looking down at your hands. It was much more awkward than you expected it to be.

“Are we doing this?” Stiles, asked. It was quite obvious that he was stressed.

“Only if you want to.” you said, now becoming unsure yourself. For the first time that evening, Stiles looked into your eyes. “I do. I really need this” This was the whole encouragement the both of you needed. As soon as he said those words, you jumped up from your place on the couch and straddled him, with a passionate kiss.  

“God, I hate you so much,” you moaned out once his lips moved to your neck.

It all started on Saturday. You were getting ready for a party at Lydia’s place.

“Oh my god, this will look so good on you,” Lydia squealed as she showed you a short dress. She threw it at you, which was a sign that said: PUT. IT. ON. You laughed and quickly went to the bathroom to change.

When you came back, Lydia gasped: “Wow, it’s even better than I thought. I am a genius.”

“Everyone knows that, Lyds,” you smiled and looked into the mirror. This dress definitely showed a lot. Your ass was barely covered and your boobs were practically spilling out of it.

“You sure about that,” you asked your friends as you looked at yourself, “isn’t it a bit too much. Or actually, too little?”

“I think you look hot. Every guy will drool over you.”

“I’m not sure my boyfriend would like that.”

“Who cares. You can still have some fun right.”  Suddenly your phone buzzed. Lydia picked it up and checked it. “Speaking of the devil.” she handed you the phone and you saw that he had send you a picture. You opened it and almost immediately dropped the phone with a scream, It bounced on the bed right next to Lydia’s leg.

“What happened did he - OH MY GOD! What the hell?” she started to laugh and put the phone back down on the bed.

“Stop it!’ you threw a pillow at her, but couldn’t help it but smile a bit too. Lydia threw the pillow back. She picked up the phone to look at the picture again. “Has he send you more of these,” she asked.

“No, and stop looking. That’s my boyfriend that you’re staring at!”

“But why did he send you that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he thinks -”

“Wait, he’s typing,” Lydia said. The two of you look on the screen as the three dots moved up and down as your boyfriend was (hopefully) explaining why he had just send that.

Can’t stop thinking about last night ;) U ready for tonight?

“(Y/N)! Did you guys do it last night? You told me you were studying with Malia.” she slapped you on the arm, but you were only half listening.

“Lydia. I was studying with Malia last night… and I’m not seeing him tonight.” tears were forming in the corners of your eyes. It all made sense now. “He, he told me that he couldn’t go to the party tonight because he w-was…” you started crying. Lydia got up and walked over to the other side of the bed where you were sitting.

“Shh. it’s okay. Call him.”

“What! I can’t call him now.”

“Yes you can and you will. You have to let him know what a dirty piece of shit he is.” she handed you your phone and gave you that kind of look that only she could give anyone.

“Fine,” you groaned and got your phone. It took you only a few clicks and the phone was ringing. The picture of you and your boyfriend kissing was shining brightly on the screen. Before you always thought it was so cute, but now it made you sick. After a few rings he finally picked up.

“Hey babe.”

“Hi sweetie. Whatcha doin?” you asked in the sweetest voice you could possibly use.

“Er - nothing. Just watching some tv. You?”

“ I was planning on going to that party I told you about, you remember that. But actually, I’m not sure if I want to go anymore as you won’t be there. Do you maybe want to hang out tonight?” Lydia gave a confused look, but you just shushed her and listened to the answer of your lying scumbag of a boyfriend.

“I would love to babe, but I made plans with the guys tonight.”

“That’s weird. You told me that you didn’t have plans tonight.”

“It was a bit of a last minute thing.”

“Well, have fun tonight with the bitch you’ll be fucking,’ you said with a wide smile, “just remember for next time you send a dick pic: make sure you send it to the right person...and oh yeah, it’s over,” and with that you hang up. As soon as the picture of the two of you disappeared you went to your contacts and blocked his number.

“Well done, girl.”

“Thanks. Now I can at least wear what the hell I want without feeling bad.”

“And we are so gonna get drunk.”

“Definitely” you agreed.

4 hours later, you and Lydia were ready to go. Your makeup and hair was on point and you had found an amazing pair of heels to match the dress that Lydia gave to you.

“I think Scott and Stiles will be here in a minute,” she said as she checked her phone.

“Wait, Scott and Stiles?”

“Yes, they are picking us up in the jeep. I thought I told you that.”

“Well, you didn’t.”

“Oh c’mon, (Y/N), Are you seriously still mad at him about that. It was years ago.”

“Maybe, but he is still acting like an arrogant dick. I just got rid of one asshole in my life and right now, I don’t need another one.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic.” she rolled her eyes.

“I am NOT being -” but you couldn’t finish your sentence as you were interrupted by the loud noise of a car horn. “How classy.” you said.”

“They aren’t our dates, they’re just giving us a ride. Let’s get going.” She opened the door and literally pushed you outside. Just like you expected, the blue jeep was parked at the end of the driveway. Scott and Stiles were talking inside. They looked as if they were arguing about something. When they noticed that you were standing outside, Scott stopped talking to Stiles and waved at you. Stiles just rolled his eyes.

“Hey guys,” Lydia said as she opened the door to the backseat of the jeep. She got in and you followed quickly. Stiles said a high, but that was it. You sat down and didn’t say a word either.

“Hey (Y/N),” Scott said. You gave him a small handwave.

“What? Grumpy that your boyfriend isn’t here to suck your face off.” Stiles grinned.

“Shut up Stilinski!” you told him and started to look out the window. But before, from the corner of your eye, you could see Lydia slap the back of Stiles’ head. It did make you feel a bit better.

You have hated Stiles ever since you met. It was the first day of High School and you didn’t know anybody as you had just moved to Beacon Hills with your mom.

You were standing at your locker in a break, when somebody bumped into you and spilled their drink on your back.

“What the hell!” you screamed. You turned around and saw him. Stiles was laughing his little ass off, while your back was soaking wet. “Sorry,” he managed to say between laughs.

“No, you’re not.”

“Hey, it was just an accident. Don’t have to be such a bitch about it.”  

“And you don’t have to be suck jerk.”

And you never stopped arguing since.

“We’re here.” Stiles stopped the jeep and you immediately got out. Without waiting for Lydia (because you knew she would catch up even before you got to the front door) you made your way towards the big house filled with drunk teenagers. In need of some alcohol, you walked fast.

“(Y/N), wait!” Lydia caught up with you not even two seconds later.

“I need a drink. Like, right now.” you said. Pushing open the door, you realised that this was no average party. Literally the whole school was there. It was only a good sign, because that meant that there was a lot to drink.

As soon as you stepped in, you were offered a drink by the host. You didn’t recognize, but couldn’t help but notice that he was really cute. You picked up the shot glass from the tray he was holding and easily drank it.

“And there is much more where that came from.”

“Could you show me then,” you asked with a smirk. He returned the favour and told you to follow him. Unfortunately, Lydia stopped you.

“Don’t go and spoil the fun, Martin.” the guy said.

“Go and be a fuckboy somewhere else, Andrews.”  she said. The boy gave a quick wink and walked off.

“Let’s get something to drink.” without waiting for an answer, you pulled her with you to the kitchen. It was surprisingly not that full. There was a table in the middle of it, with every inch covered with some kind of bottle. You walked over to it and started to examine what was in front of you.

“Holy shit, they’ve got Polish Spirytus.”

“Isn’t that like, 90% pure alcohol?”

“95 actually.” you said as you unscrewed the bottle and took a plastic shot glass from a stack. You filled it to the rim and drowned it in one. It burned your whole mouth, but it was worth it.

“I wonder how they got it. I think it’s illegal in most of the states,” you said as you put the bottle down.

“Can you promise me not to drink that anymore.”

“Yeah. one is more than enough for me, Lyds. Don’t worry.” Lydia poured herself a drink and left.

The party had been going on for already a few hours and you maybe had left the kitchen once… to go to the toilet. You had not drank an insane amount of alcohol, but it was definitely not healthy. At one point it was only you in it. Then Stiles came in. a drink in his hand and he was followed by some girl.

“So you’re on the Lacrosse team, huh,” she looked rather impressed. You turned around from them and did your best not to burst out in laughter. Your drunk mind could not handle this right now.

“I guess, you could say that. I haven’t played a lot yet, but - wait!” before he could even finish his pathetic story, the girl rolled her eyes and left him. It was rather clear that he had given up as he didn’t even try to go after her. He just walked to the table with bottles, opened one without looking what it actually was and took a shot of it.

“Bad luck with the ladies?” you said.

“Even worse now that I see you’re here.” he rolled his eyes at you.

“No need to be so rude. Just trying to be sympathetic.”

“That’s a first,” he laughed, “how would you know how I feel. I don’t think I have ever seen you without some stupid jock walking behind you like on a leash.”

“There is no jock here right now, is there?”

“I guess.”

“Let’s be honest, Stiles. This night sucked for the both of us, let’s not make it a competition to see who's sucked more.”

“I would probably win,” he mumbled, “I probably tried to talk to every girl here, and they all blew me off. It’s starting to become really depressing.”

“No need to be so hard on yourself.” you said.

“Easy for you. Everyone loves you.”

“That’s not true. You hate me and Steven apparently doesn’t like me either.”  

“You broke up?”

“If you can call “him sending me a dick pic that was supposed to go to another bitch and then me dumping his cheap ass” breaking up, then yes, we broke up.” you said and took another sip from your glass.

“Oh, sorry.”

“Not your fault, is it?”

“No, I meant about the thing I said to you in the jeep.”

“Oh that.” you chugged the rest of your drink down when an idea popped up into your drunk brain.

“Hey, Stiles” you caught his attention, “how desperate are you?”

“Please don’t call me desperate. But, yeah. I would like some action.” that was everything you needed to hear. As you stepped closer to the boy you thought how you never would have done this if you were sober. But neither of you were, so who cares? Right?

Before he could ask you what the hell you were doing, you kissed him. It was a kiss like you’ve never had before. It surprised you that Stiles had not pulled away. Maybe he was really desperate. Maybe he was so drunk that he didn’t know how to move anymore. Maybe it was both, but he was kissing you back so you didn’t care. Somehow your hands found its way to gripping his soft hair as one of his arms (the other hand was still holding his drink) was draped around your waist.

The kiss had turned into a full-on makeout session and you were praying to every god you knew that nobody would walk in on you. You were in no rush into making this stop. Unfortunately Stiles was. He pulled away from you and even took a step back.

“What just happened?” he looked really confused.

“We sort of kissed.”

“Yeah, but why? We hate each other, remember?”

“I do. But I also remember how you said that no girl wanted to talk to you.”

“I didn’t say that nobody wanted to talk to me!”  

“Whatever. I just thought,” you looked at Stiles a bit unsure, “seen that you probably finally want to have a sex life and I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, we could…”

“Become friends with benefits?”

“For that, we would have to be friends first.”  you laughed.

“How would this work exactly?” he raised an eyebrow. You smirked and stepped a bit closer to him. Closing the gap that he had created before.

“It’s quite simple. If one of us, ever has some urges or needs, we can just help each other out.” you said as you traced some circles on his arm. The alcohol was really changing you into a different person. A person who Stiles clearly liked, because seconds later he said: “Fine, I’m in.”

“Good.” you whispered into his ear. You could feel him hitch a breath and that was your sign to back up. “Well, I’ll see you around. And one more thing,” you said before you stepped out of the kitchen, “I do not have sex with someone I haven’t made out with.”

“But you have made out with me, like just a moment ago.”

“At least a few times. I’m not a slut. Remember that, Stilinski.”

[lavender-lotion]

He Forgot to Mention the Damn Cat | 2,324k

Find the rest here! Read on AO3 here!

It all started with a stray cat.

Well, it all started because Peter was a drama queen who didn’t think before he spoke.

‘ November 25: Established Relationship - Do you want to make a gif set of Stiles and Peter getting married? How about drawing them adopting/having kids? Maybe you want to write about them arguing over mundane domestic issues as they navigate living together. Give us all your established relationship Steter feels. ’

All Stiles was trying to do was relax. He had never once thought being a high school teacher could be so taxing, but between creating lesson plans and grading assignments and dealing with all the obnoxious little shits he was forced to deal with on a daily basis - he was tired. It wasn’t enough that he was working full time, keeping up with his own art, managing a relationship with the biggest drama queen in Beacon Hills, but he was also keeping the town safe, his spark twisted with the magic of the forest.

So Stiles wanted to take a nap, which was pretty much what he’d been doing. The loft was incredibly cold this time of year - especially with the wolves never getting cold) and he was thoroughly wrapped up in the thickest blanket Derek owned. His head was in Isaac’s lap, the other man softly petting Stiles’ hair as he drifted, not quite asleep but far from awake. His face was mashed into the man's stomach, blocking out the rest of the world as he tried to fall asleep. The pack was talking around him, though they were mostly having soft conversations, respectful of his need to sleep but his desire to be here with the pack anyway.

He was almost asleep, toying the line of unconsciousness when the door of the loft slammed open, the bang echoing throughout the room and causing Isaac to jump under him so harshly that Stiles fell to the floor - something he couldn't even be mad about, since it was Isaac. He heard the too-familiar growl of Peter and looked up to see the man standing in the doorway, eyes glowing electric blue as he furiously pulled his arm from his back to reveal -.

Oh.

Oh.

Shit, he forgot to mention the damn cat.

And the cat was still wearing Peter’s cardigan.

Stiles blinked up with wide eyes, jutting out his bottom lip in a perfect pout. It was a look he had perfected as a child and had turned out to work perfectly well on the older wolf. It had won him many an argument during the years they had been together and Stiles wasn’t ashamed to use it to get this way.

And now, now with Peter staring murderously, a low, continuous growl emitting from his throat as he held the kitten at arms length seemed like as good as time as any to use it.

“Stiles, what in the goddamn fuck is this thing?” Peter demanded, voice enough of a growl to make Stiles nervous. Peter has always had excellent control over his wolf, being more in tune with his inner conscious than any other were that Stiles had met. So for the man to be so openly out of control - for his eyes to still be glowing, words slurred around his fangs - was incredibly worrying.

“That’s Luna,” Stiles answered after a too-long silence, Peter’s growling the only noise in the room now that all the others had turned away from their conversations to watch  interaction with wide eyes.

“Luna?!” Peter asked incredulous, waving the kitten where he held her up by the nape of her neck. The thing mewled pitifully and Stiles whined in response, shooting to his feet and snatching the little thing from the man.

“Peter!” He hissed, glaring at the man over his shoulder, keeping his body between the kitten and Peter, just in case.

“Me?” Peter actually took a step back at that, eyes opening even further, “That thing was not only in our bed, but it is wearing my cardigan!”

“I - alright, yes.” Stiles agreed easily, not being able to argue since it was true. The thing was wearing Peter’s cardigan, though that was hardly Stiles’ fault. Which, er, not exactly true either.

It had been an accident - a laundry mishap, you could say. It wasn’t Stiles’ fault that their washer took a ridiculously long time to complete a cycle, and was also not his fault that Peter refused to buy a new one. He had cuddled up on the couch, wrapping his favorite blanket snug around himself when Luna jumped into his lap, spilling his glass of milk all over said blanket. Stiles had then rushed it to the washer, blindly throwing it in and setting the cycle.

He’d thrown it immediately into the dryer (he was cold), after the hour and a half it took to wash, and must have gotten one of Peter’s more expensive cardigans into the dryer as well. It obviously wasn’t his fault, after all he wasn’t the one who left clothing in the washing machine inbetween wash days. The cardigan had fallen out onto the floor and Luna had swayed her way over, pawing at the fabric before curling atop it, meowing loudly until Stiles lifted them both up, fastening the thing around it’s little body - bringing both arms through the now shortened sleeves.

She looked adorable, and Stiles gently sat her on the couch behind him before turning back to his wolf, “I’m really sorry, dude, but it was already in the wash and-”

“It’s really not that hard to check the laundry -” Peter cut him off, snapping out his words, annoyance clear on his features.

“Look, I’m sorry, I know but -”

“But nothing Stiles! Chores shouldn’t always be a test of intelligence!”

“Okay that was a little rude lo-”

“Rude!? You shrunk my sweater!”

“It is just a sweater, Peter.”

“It is not just a sweater!”

“Peter, I can buy you another one.”

“I don’t want another one. I wanted to wear this one, but now it is filled with fur! And entirely too small to ever wear again!”

“Okay I understand you’re upset but it’s clothing an-”

“You didn’t even tell me!”

“I just knew you would react like this. Honestly it’s clothing,”

“It was three hundred dollars!”

“Uh, guys, maybe you should cal-” Kira had tried to intervene, her voice soft, but Stiles talked over her, all but yelling at the man.

“Please just calm down!”

“Down tell me what to do Stiles you are the you-”

“Don’t even fucking go there!”

“Well it’s true!”

“Okay look, I really think you may be overreacting -”

“I don’t even understand how we had a cat in the apartment!”

“Ok if you both would just st-” Malia started, only to stop when Stiles began to frantically wave his hands as he spoke.

“Well I found her all alone an-”

“You cannot just bring home animals without consulting me.”

“I knew what you would say, though!”

“Can you two go somewh-” Derek tried then, only to have Peter dramatically cut him off as the man all but shouted.

“Gee, well then maybe you should have just left it -”

“I couldn't leave her Peter!”

“You knew I didn’t want pets”

“Well you also don’t want children!” Stiles snapped harshly, face flushed and cheeks a blotchy, uneven red.

“Oh, so that is what this is about?” The man asked calmly, raising a brow.

“Yeah Peter, that’s what this is fucking about!

“Well I’m sorry I can’t be what you want!”

“Oh for fuck sakes Peter, you know that is not what I’m saying!”

“But isn’t it? Admit it, you’ve been waiting to break up with me!”

“Peter, what the fuck are talking about!” Stiles asked, his voice going high.

“I think we both know this was never really going to work, Stiles.” Peter said it calmly, face impassive and Stiles felt like he’d been struck.

The response already on his tongue died at that, eyes widening as he took in Peter’s words. He didn’t, he didn’t know Peter felt like that, didn’t know the man was just waiting till the end. Was he, did he not love Stiles? Did, did everything Stiles thought about their relationship exist in his own mind. Fuck, was Peter just going through the motions, hanging onto Stiles until he found someone better?

The boy stumbled back at that thought, that he would be replaced, could be replaced. He hadn’t - fuck he hadn’t even thought of them breaking up, not after they had passed their first year. It had been so hard at first, their sharp edges too often catching. The age difference could be so obvious at times, not helped at all by the years Peter spent in a coma. Not only that but Stiles often felt inadequate, especially during that first year.

For so long he hadn’t been able to contribute financially, bills from school and living away for four years still piled away, gaining more and more interest that, at his measly high school teacher paychecks, he could hardly pay for. He had felt trapped at a time, unsure how he would ever be able to support himself should the two break up. That had gotten better in time, Stiles getting a raise with running a few after school programs, tutoring on the weekends and some evenings for extra cash.

So it had been hard - at first. They really had jumped into things, and it took them a while to parse through their new relationship. It had been worth it, clearly, and four of years of them going strong proved that. So the thought that - the thought that they could end, that Peter had even been thinking about it?

“I - I have a ring!” Stiles accused, spitting the word at the man.

How - how dare he let Stiles plan his future around him, let him fucking hope. He was angry now, felt stupid and worthless. But, watching Peter’s face shut down didn’t please him at all. There had been a time, a long time, that hurting the man would have brought him joy. But that was years before their relationship, before soft Sunday mornings and goodnight kisses, and whispering fears and dreams in the dark of their own bed, inside their own house. Now, now it just twisted at his heart, and it hurt knowing he had caused the look on Peter’s face.

He watched Peter swallow and nod seemingly to himself, squaring his shoulders a little before admitting, “So do I.”

And no, because that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Peter could make his heart flutter when he felt so horrible, so desperate. And that, well it didn’t make sense? Wasn’t, wasn’t Peter the one who had started their fight, the one that had been responsible for this whole ordeal. He should be mad, furious even, that Peter would suggest they break up.

But that was hard, hard when the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with just admitted to wanting very much the same. What was Stiles even supposed to do with that. He shook his head again, trying to clear some of his confusion.

“Stiles-?” Peter began, his voice sounding far away. But Stiles just shook his head, wrapping his arms tighter around himself and turning his back to the room, trying desperately to parse through what he was feeling.

Heat lined his back, the familiar feel of Peter’s chest pulling a quiet whimper from him, not sure if this was going to be the last time he felt it. He was confused when Peter reached around him, grabbing Stiles’ hand and interlocking their fingers. It was a position they had been in a thousand and one times before, but the wolf had never held him so tightly before.

So desperately.

“I’ve had one too,” The man whispered into Stiles neck, repeating his earlier words.

“I am still so, so mad at you.” Stiles admitted quietly, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Mhm,”

“You’re sleeping on the couch,” He added, still trying to calm his heart.

“Of course,”

“I don’t want you thinking I’m not seriously upset,” Stiles reiterated, because he --was.

He - they didn’t fight often, never like this, either. Sure they argued occasionally, about small, domestic things that came with living with another person. They were never like this, never brought up such intense feelings. It could have also been that Stiles was sensitive from his nap and that Peter had already been upset - having had time to brew in his anger. They were both dramatic personalities and when Stiles really thought about it, he was surprised they hadn’t blown up like this sooner.

So Stiles sighed and turned in the man's arms, peering up at him and waiting for the other man to meet his eyes before pressing a light, barely there kiss against the man's lips. It wasn’t an apology, nor the acceptance of one, but more of a truce. He knew they were going to be okay, even if they would need to talk about what happened.

“I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want,” The man side quietly, eyes on the floor.

Stiles shook his head, framing the man's face with his hand and turning him to meet their eyes, “No, no Peter you do! You are what I want!”

“I love you,”

“So I don’t mean to interrupt,” Lydia called, her voice entirely too pointed. Stiles pulled his mouth from Peter’s neck to stare at the banshee, “But what the hell is going on?”

“I - well. I think we almost broke up?” Stiles questioned, honestly too busy reeling from the emotional whiplash to think straight.

“Yes, that sounds about right, sweetheart,” The man replied, his own smile pulling at his face even as he tugged the boy firmer against his body. Stiles laughed then, bright and loud and free, and Peter chuckled as well.

“We are definitely missing something,” Isaac muttered under his breath, but Stiles was too distracted from where Peter’s hands were settled low on his back, pulling Stiles closer as though he were trying to merge them together.

Stiles just cuddled up, slipping his arms under the man's and hugging his waist tight. A mewl cut through the room and Peter growled on instinct, Stiles’ laughter drowning the noise out.

[bxcketbarnes]

Insecurities - Part Two

Pairing: Dylan x Reader

Author: @ninja-stiles

Words: 1928

Author’s Note: So, some people wanted a part two to this and if you know me, I’m a sucker for happy endings. Thank you to the lovely @celestial-writing for proofreading and giving me feedback, love youuuu. Enjoy babes! Also, requests are open!

Y/N’s POV

 As I walk into Holland’s house, I find her and her dog in the kitchen, in the process of making dinner. Fievel notices me taking my shoes off and begins to bark, jumping up on my leg. I chuckle, picking her up and she begins to give me kisses all over my face. I walk into the kitchen, the aroma of food filling my nose.

“Hey, Holl. Whatever you’re making smells absolutely delicious.” I smile, placing Fievel on the floor, grabbing a water out of the fridge.

“Yeah, I’m making chicken alfredo, your favorite.” She says, giving me a smile.

“Oh, crap. Holl, I forgot to mention to you the other day, but I actually have a date tonight.” I bite my lip as she turns to me, a shocked expression on her face.

“What? You do? I thought you and Dylan were still together?” She asks, her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

“I-I mean, yeah? Maybe? I’m not even sure. H-He hasn’t contacted me in a few weeks.” I frown, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, wondering how he’s doing.

“You still love him don’t you?” She gives me a sad smile as I nod my head. “Is that why you’ve been working your ass off at the gym?” I give another nod, sniffling slightly.

“I-I thought maybe, if I lost quite a bit of weight, he might want me back.” I confess, wiping the tears from under my eyes.

“Babe, I know you might not believe this, but he absolutely loved the way you were and I can’t explain why he said what he did, but you saw how distraught he was after he said it. All I can tell you is that he really regrets it. When he comes to set, he’s not his usual bubbly self and I honestly think that’s because he lost the love of his life. Now, I’m not telling him that you should forgive him or cancel this date but just think about it and always, always follow your heart, okay?” She rubs my arm as I nod in response. She pulls me into a hug, squeezing the life out of me. When she pulls away, she claps her hands together.

“So, what do you plan on wearing?” She asks, excitedly.

“Honestly, I have no idea. Would you be my Lydia Martin and help me out?” I chuckle as she gives me a playful glare before nodding.

“Of course. Oh, should you know, Holland has good taste as well!” She yells while running up the stairs, Fievel hot on her tail. I follow her upstairs, seeing some of her dresses laid out on her bed.

“Oh, Holl. I-I don’t think I’d look good in any of those dresses.” I tell her, becoming slightly nervous.

“Of course they will, sweetie. Just try this one on.” She hands me a cute black evening dress. I head into the bathroom, pulling off the clothes I’m wearing, putting the black dress on. I look at myself in the mirror, my lips parting in awe. Oh my god. A knock on the door shakes me from my thoughts.

“Y/N? Everything okay in there?” She asks. I step out of the bathroom, a smile prominent on my face.

“I-I look amazing.” I laugh, tears pooling. Holland smiles, bringing me into a hug as a few tears stream down my face.

“You look great, babe.” She laughs, petting the back of my head. “Do you want me to do your hair?”

“Yes, please.” I smile, sitting on the bed as she plugs in the hair curler.

“So, who’s the lucky guy?” She asked, beginning to curl my hair.

“I met him at a bar, his name is Nate.” I explain, chewing on my bottom lip.

“Ooo, so what are your plans?”

“Um, well, I’m supposed to meet him at the Italian restaurant that’s near the set.” I tell her. She puts the curling iron away, spraying some hairspray in my hair, so it holds.

“Well, you have fun okay? Remember what I told you.” She tells me as I place my heels on, before nodding at her, heading out the door. The uber I called is parked outside, I get into the vehicle, telling the driver where to go. We arrive at the place and I hand him the money and a ten dollar tip before getting out of the car. I check my phone once I’m outside of the restaurant, not seeing Nate here. 7:08. I sigh, leaning against the wall, watching people walk and drive down the street.

 About an hour later…

 I start to shiver, still waiting for my date to show up. I sigh, once more, realizing that he’s not going to show up. God, this was so stupid. I sniff a little, wiping the tears of my face. I begin to walk down the street, towards Holland’s place when I bump into somebody.

“O-Oh, I’m so sorry.” I apologize, looking up. My body becomes stiff as I realize it’s Dylan.

“Y-Y/N?” Dylan stutters, wiping his eyes, looking at me again. “Y-You’re actually in front of me.”

“Y-Yeah, I am. Um, w-what are you doing here?” I ask, picking at my fingers.

“I-I was grabbing dinner that I ordered. What about you?” Dylan asks, his eyes roaming down my body. “W-Wow you, uh, you look great.” He stutters, blushing slightly.

“I, um, well I had a date, but he didn’t show up.” I mutter, looking at the ground.

“Oh.” Dylan says, his voice laced with heartbreak. “Well, he’s an idiot for not showing up. Maybe, you’d wanna have dinner with me?” His hand rubs the back of his neck, looking down at me.

“Dyl, I don’t think-” I begin to say but Dylan cuts me off.

“Please? I promise it’ll be fun. Just like old times.” He smiles softly, laying a hand on my arm, sparks spreading throughout my body. I think about it, remembering what Holland told me. Just follow your heart.

“Y-Yeah, that’d be nice.” I smile, linking my arm with his. A grin forms on his lips, walking us into the restaurant.

“To go order for O’Brien.” Dylan tells the hostess as she nods, going to receive the order. I feel his hand move across my lower back, giving me goosebumps. I look up at him, seeing him looking down at me already. I blush, giving him a small smile before looking at the girl bringing Dylan his food. Dylan takes the bag, thanking her and we walk out of the restaurant. We begin walking towards his car, in silence, the sound of cars whirling by on the busy streets.

“S-So, how have you been?” I ask, looking up at him as we walk.

“Uh, well, pretty bad to be honest. This is actually my first real meal I’ve had in the past few weeks. Um, I really missed you.” He says, running a hand through his hair.

“H-How come you didn’t call me?” I ask, biting my lip.

“I-I thought you wanted space, so I gave it to you. Trust me, I wanted to call you, I wanted you to come back. I’d do anything to fix what I did.” He mutters, unlinking our arms as we arrived at his car. He opens my door for me, giving him a small smile as I get into the passenger seat, putting my seatbelt on. Dylan sits in the driver's seat, the food in the back as he begins to drive us towards our house. During the drive, I see Dylan’s hand reaching towards mine a few times. I smile, thinking of all the time he held my hand when we were driving somewhere. I reach over, intertwining our fingers, missing the feeling of his hand around mine. Dylan looks over at me, his lips parted in surprise before smiling to himself. He pulls up into the driveway, turning the car off, unbuckling his seatbelt, getting out of the car quickly. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, before realizing he wants to open the door for me. My cheeks redden as I unbuckle, getting out of the car, Dylan closing the door behind me.

“Head inside, I’ll grab the food. Also, um, don’t mind the mess. I haven’t really done much since you left.” He confesses, giving me a sad smile. I bite my lip, nodding as I head into the house, my eyes widening seeing the living room’s state. Clothes and water bottles everywhere.

“Y-Yeah, sorry about this.” Dylan says from behind me, making me jump.

“It-It’s okay. Maybe you can help me clean up?” I ask, biting my lip, hoping he’ll want me to stay longer than just dinner.

“Y-Yeah, that’d be great. You can, um, stay the night if you want.” He mentions, a blush appearing on his cheeks. I smile at him, grabbing his hand, walking into the kitchen. Dylan takes the food out of the bag, knowing he’d have more than he needed. He’s over ordered for as long as I’ve known him. I giggle as he looks up at me, giving me a large grin.

“What? You know I like food.” He chuckles, getting two plates out of the cupboard, two forks, and two wine glasses. “I bought some of your favorite wine, in case you were coming home.”

“Aw, Dyl. You were always so sweet.” I tell him, walking up to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Dylan places the glasses on the table, wrapping his arms around my lower back, smiling at me. I notice bags underneath his eyes and I frown, raising my hands up to his face, my fingers stroking the bags softly.

“Have you been sleeping?” I ask quietly. Dylan shakes his head, rubbing his hand up my back as I give him a sad look.

“I’m so sorry for what I did. It was so uncalled for and I’d do anything to take it back, honestly. These past few weeks without you have been terrible, I haven’t been able to eat right and I can barely get to sleep, knowing that you aren’t next to me. I’m not asking you to forgive me yet, but, could you at least come home?” He asks, a few tears falling down his face. I wipe away his tears, my heart breaking to see him like this. I place my hand against his cheek, his hand covering mine as I look up at him before pulling him down, placing a kiss to his lips. He lets out a moan, his hands moving to my hips, pressing his lips against mine in need. I slip my fingers into his hair, feeling his tongue lick my bottom lip and I open my mouth, our tongues colliding against each others, reminiscing the love we have towards each other. I pull away before things get to heated, his forehead leaning against mine.

“I forgive you, Dyl. I just, I can’t live without you. These few weeks have been absolute shit and Holland can only cheer me up so much. Most nights I’d spend crying, looking at photos of us.” I confess, playing with the small hairs on his neck.

“I love you, so much, Y/N.” Dylan smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips.

“I love you too Dyl, now why don’t we just head upstairs and you can show me just how much you missed me.” I smirk and Dylan licks his lips, nodding his head, picking me up bridal style, rushing upstairs to our bedroom.

[stereksummerexchange]

Memory's Fingertips

@menqlu​ | AO3 - I hope you like it, giftee :)

by @hazelandglasz

PG - some mention of masturbation / mention of Stiles’ mother’s passing and grief (very briefly)

For his senior year of high school, Derek wanted to have a blast with his best friends. Alas, he’s by himself for his free period. Or is he?

Derek hates his afternoon free period, and he hasn’t lived through it yet.

Alright, so maybe “hate” is too strong a word–he despises it with a passion.

Whatever, he has strong negative feelings about it, because all of his friends are not sharing it with him.

It’s his Senior year of High School, the last milestone of youthful freedom he has before going to college and learn how to Adult™.

Derek should be able to spend whatever free pockets of time he gets with the family he has chosen among his peers.

Not be condemned to one period of abject loneliness.

He’s a highly social animal, so sue him.

When he enters the library for the aforementioned free period (might as well make it useful, right?), Derek tightens his hold on the strap of his bag.

There isn’t a single student that he recognizes in the sea of people–who are they and why are they here–and Derek needs to find a place where he can be in peace, a nook of solitude so to speak–

Ah.

Maybe there is one person he recognizes, but to be honest, Derek half-thinks that he would have preferred not to.

Stiles Stilinski.

The boy on the verge of manhood–and really, Stiles and manhood in the same sentence hurts Derek in the best of ways–who has starred in more dreams than Derek is comfortable to confess.

The boy Derek wants to invite to Prom.

The boy Derek wants to be his first boyfriend.

The boy Derek wants–period.

The boy … whose belongings Derek just knocked off the table he had found for himself.

“I am so sorry,” Derek babbles, adjusting his glasses as he kneels to gather the notes and books spread on the floor. “I wasn’t looking where I was–”

And suddenly, Stiles’ pink cheeks and caramel eyes are far closer than they should be.

“–going.”

“It’s–it’s alright,” Stiles stammers, helping Derek reorganize the whole mess. “I was attempting a very perilous balance of things anyway?”

“Recreating the tower of Babel?”

Stiles smiles at him and Derek needs to chill the heck out.

“Of a sort,” he says, holding up two books–one in English, one in French.

It’s enough to make Derek smile and look away.

Dear Lord he’s a mess.

“By all means, Hale, take a seat, Lord knows I don’t anyone else barging in my citadel of solitude,” Stiles tells him and Derek has to pinch himself as discretely as possible.

Stiles knows his name.

Stiles wants to spend time with him.

Stiles is smiling at him.

Cool cool cool cooo-ooool.

Derek does sit down across the round table Stiles has managed to find, and he toys with the idea of getting ahead (not getting a head, shut up Laura) in his literary class.

Even if he doesn’t make a lot of progress because of Stiles, any progress is still something.

He pulls the book out of his bag, and he manages to read the whole first page before Stiles speaks up and ruins his focus.

“Would you say that language is a living system?”

“Uh?”

Stiles pokes his pencil against the back of the books towering next to him. “If a living system is defined as a system that evolves and adapts,” he explains, his fingers never stopping their twirling of his pen, “and if language always evolves, in the sense that, say, a phone today doesn’t mean the same thing than a phone in the fifties, right, then isn’t it right to say that language is a living system?”

A part of Derek’s brain is puzzled by this question and wonders what class is exactly requiring this topic.

Knowing Stiles, though, this could be a Biology essay for all Derek knows, and Stiles would pull it off.

The rest of his brain is wailing at how unfairly attractive Stiles is when his brain kicks into gear.

Which is to say maybe 22 hours a day.

Or so Derek assumes.

Unfair unfair unfair.

“Uhhh?”

See? Unfair.

Stiles sits up, leaning over the table toward Derek, and Derek is going to hyperventilate if no one minds.

“I mean, one could argue that we make language evolve, we are the ones deciding of its fate–”

“Sure,” Derek says, unconsciously leaning forward too, elbows resting on his knees. “But who makes us evolve in the first place?”

Stiles beams at him, and isn’t it amazing how his eyes shine like copper in this light. “I knew you’d see my point!”

“In a way, if language is an evolving system, we are not the masters of said evolution,” Derek says, inspired by the enthusiasm in Stiles’ eyes, “merely the … nudge to push the missing link towards a new form.”

“A nudge huh?”

Derek looks down at his hands. “Just an idea.”

Stiles’ knee bumps into his. “I knew your silence didn’t mean nothing ran through your beautiful head, Hale.”

Derek’s face is burning.

Beautiful?

Eh, takes one to know one.

—

This odd conversation topic is only the first in a list that takes the two of them way into the school year.

What is everything without nothing.

Is objectivity a myth.

Which religion has it right about what happens after death.

This one topic is mostly Stiles listening to Derek rambling about how the different myths actually converge to one vision of the afterlife, strangely quiet and reserved, somewhere around Halloween.

The following day, he’s back to his chatterbox self, but Derek still gives him his Reese’s cups.)

After Christmas and the holidays, Derek almost expected Stiles to abandon their weekly sessions in the library.

But here he was, with a perfectly wrapped rectangle in his hands and a blush on his cheeks–a beautiful copy of the Iliad that makes Derek want to leap over the table and kiss the breath out of Stiles’ mouth, even though he does not

More subjects pile up over the table (and snacks snuck in the library).

If neither a camera or a mirror show you how you really look, how can you know how you actually look.

Is doing what is just always what is right.

This one gets them kicked out because they start screaming at each other. That doesn’t stop them from smiling at each other like lunatics on the stairs while snow starts falling down.

(Derek nearly whimpers when snowflakes get caught in Stiles’ eyelashes, but it’s nothing compared to the way his heart stutters when Stiles reaches out to brush one snowflake from Derek’s cheek)

What is happiness.

Derek has a couple of ideas on the subject.

*

February approaches, and red and pink storm through the school.

Derek softly hits his head against his locker door.

“You need to woman up, little bro.”

“Leave me alone, Laura.”

“He would only be the happiest man on Earth if you decide to unplatonic this relationship.”

“That’s not a word, and what didn’t you understand in ‘leave me alone’?”

“The alone part, little bro, you do that perfectly without my help.”

“Ha.”

“And you deserve better,” she says softly before ruffling his hair, “lil’ bunny.”

“Lil’ bunny?”

Derek looks up with wide eyes at the voice replacing Laura’s.

That Mata Hari.

Traitor.

Stiles has his head cocked to the side, looking at Derek with open interest and, yes, amusement. “Did your sister call you Lil’ Bunny, Derek ‘I’m too badass to wear any real color besides black’ Hale?”

“Black is not a color, and you heard nothing.”

“Sure, sure,” Stiles says, and Derek could almost believe him, “Lil’ bunny.”

“Stiles …”

“Hm, yes, I love when you growl my name.”

Derek is pretty sure the school cook could fry the whole school’s lunch on his cheeks.

“Oh, Der-bear…”

“That’s even worse.”

“Bunny Der?”

“Stiles, I’m asking you, as a friend, ‘cause we’re friends, can you please shut up?”

“Shut up? When I finally found the strength and courage to ask you to be my Valentine?”

That makes Derek look up with wide eyes and cheeks a shade to rival the fiercest of Ferraris.

“Your what?”

Stiles’ blush rivales his.

Interesting.

Lovely, too.

“Say, do you–do you think Love is something we do or something we are?”

The question has the familiarity of all those pseudo (or maybe not so pseudo) philosophical conversations they shared, and Derek’s lungs work again.

“Depends,” he replies, focusing on the way Stiles is wringing his hands together.

“On what?”

On the way Stiles’s eyes never leave his.

“On whether this particular love is reciprocated or not.”

On the way he bites his lower lip as he takes a step closer to Derek.

“But I ask about Love, capital L.”

On how warm he feels, standing so close to Derek his fingers could brush against Derek’s if he just moved so–

“There is no Love, capital L,” Derek says, voice dropped to a whisper, “only singular loves, marvelous in their own rights, that make us who we are and that we bring to life.”

“Derek–”

“So my answer is,” Derek adds, reaching for Stiles’ hand and lifting it to his lips to brush them against the knuckles, “love is both, in all of its incarnations.”

Stiles’ eyes are wide, and dark, more like maple syrup than caramel now as they stare at the point of connection between his hand and Derek’s lips.

“And yes.”

“Y-yes?”

Derek smiles, pulling courage from the pink on Stiles’ cheeks. “I’ll be your Valentine.”

Stiles blinks once, twice, and the beaming smile he gave Derek a couple of months ago is nothing in the face of the smile stretching his lips now.

“Oh, Der-bear,” he replies, “I’m gonna woo the fuck out of you.”

“I thought the discussions were already your best wooing tech–hmph!”

Probably 90% of Derek’s brain is busy focusing on Stiles’ everything–his lips, warm against his and tasting of mint (the sneaky little shit); his hands, framing Derek’s jaw; his chest, strong against Derek’s–but the ten remaining percent completely register Laura shooting fucking finally and Scott McCall whooping in the background.

When he catches his breath, he also catches Stiles flipping them both the bird.

God bless his afternoon free period.

[amylillian22]

Twins - Stiles Stilinski AU Imagine

Requested by calypsoathene - Can I have a Stiles Stilinski one where the reader has a twin sister & the pack usually mistake her for her sister and the other way round but Stiles always knows who is who & one day the reader asks him how he knows & he answers something fluffy? :)

Word Count: 1,891

Warnings: None

Author’s note: I couldn’t help myself with the little twist at the end. I hope you like it :)

My Teen Wolf Masterlist

"Hey, I have to go to the guidance office," Sabrina said as she hopped out of the driver's seat and closed the door.

"What? Why?" Her twin sister, Y/N asked after she got out of the passenger seat. "Is everything okay?" 

"Yeah," Sabrina answered as she locked the car and handed the keys over to Y/N, as it would be her turn to drive back home after school. "She wants to go over one of my college applications. I made a mistake on one of them and she's going to help me fix it," Sabrina explained.

"Oh, okay. I'll see you in class then," Y/N waved goodbye as she walked towards the courtyard to meet up with her friends. 

"See ya!" Sabrina called out before making her way towards the front office.

As kids, Sabrina and Y/N found it fun to be twins as they often tricked their teachers and classmates by pretending to be the other one. When they started middle school, things changed. They outgrew wearing matching outfits, and they hated doing everything together as their parents made them go everywhere together, which was hard to do since they didn't always have the same group of friends. Once they started high school, and are now close to graduating, they've come to appreciate each other and the special bond they have that no one else would understand.

Y/N noticed Lydia sitting at their usual picnic table with a book open and scribbling on a notebook. She walked over and sat down. Lydia briefly looked up and smiled at her before returning to her work. "Hey, Sabrina."

Y/N chuckled as she shook her head. "Nope. Y/N."

Lydia sighed as she rubbed her temples, exhausted. "I’m sorry. You'd think after knowing you since freshman year, I'd finally be able to tell you two apart." 

Y/N chuckled. "It happens."

"Hey girlies!" Kira cheered as she sat next to Lydia. "What's up, Sabrina?" 

Lydia chuckled. "It's Y/N." 

Kira furrowed her eyebrows together. "How do you know?"

"Because I mistook her for Sabrina, too," Lydia answered as Y/N giggled.

"What's so funny, Sabrina?" Malia asked as she walked up and sat next to Y/N.

The girls burst into laughter. Before Y/N could correct Malia, Scott, Stiles and Liam walked up to the girls. 

"What's so funny?" Liam asked.

"Hey, Sabrina," Scott smiled at her. Before he could say ‘hi’ to the rest of the girls, who were laughing even harder than before, Stiles corrected him.

 "Dude, that's Y/N," he smiled as he sat down next to her.

The laughter died and everyone looked at Stiles. Y/N couldn't help but smile at him. He was the only one who could always tell her and Sabrina apart. 

"How did you know that?" Lydia asked.

“How can you tell them apart?” Kira asked. “They’re literally identical.”

“Yes,” Stiles nodded. “Identical twins are exactly the same, but there’s always a feature of some sort that separates the two. Like moles and birth marks are a little harder to notice, but there’s glasses and hair styles that make the differences more obvious.”

“That’s true,” Lydia said as everyone began to understand Stiles’ theory.

“What’s Y/N’s feature?” Liam asked.

Y/N sat up straight, suddenly intrigued to what his answer would be. “Yeah, Stiles. What’s my feature that separates me from my sister?”

“Uh…” Stiles looked down and began drumming his fingers against the table. Scott couldn’t hide the smile on his face knowing why his best friend was suddenly flustered.

“Why are you nervous?” Malia asked bluntly, which caused Liam to snicker.

 “Well,” Stiles cleared his throat before looking back at Y/N, who was now even more curious than before. “Your feature would be your eyes.”

“My eyes?” Y/N asked, as her heart skipped a beat. 

Stiles nodded. “You have gold flecks in your eyes, which are more noticeable when you smile, which is also different from your sister’s. Your smile is big and wide, which shows off your perfect and beautiful white teeth. Sabrina also has a beautiful smile, but it’s small and you can only see the top of her teeth peeking through her lips.”

At that moment, the first bell rang, signaling everyone to go to their first class of the day. The pack stood up and began walking towards their classes, leaving Y/N staring at Stiles in complete shock and in awe. Stiles scratched the back of his neck before clearing his throat. “We should probably get to class,” he started getting up from his seat.

Y/N grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. Stiles immediately locked his eyes with hers with furrowed eyebrows, trying to read what’s going through her mind.

“Stiles…” She whispered softly.

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“No one has ever able to tell my sister and I apart like you do…” she grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Stiles’ eyes flickered at their hands, his heart starting to race against his chest. He slowly turned his hand around and locked their hands together. He looked up and saw Y/N smiling at him. “And no one has ever talked about me the way you did.”

The corner of Stiles’ lip tugged up, genuinely giving her a loving smile. “It’s hard not to notice someone so beautiful.” She bit her lip back, trying to fight back the blush creeping on her cheeks.

Suddenly out of nowhere, Y/N found the courage to ask Stiles something she had never asked any boy before. “Stiles… would you like to go out sometime?” She asked.

Stiles’ eyes widened as he quickly nodded. “Yes. Definitely. I’d like that.”

“Friday? After your lacrosse game?”

“That’s perfect,” he smiled.

“I can’t wait,” Y/N smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek before she walked towards her first class. Stiles waited for Y/N to walk into the building before he jumped up with excitement.

“Hey, meet me at the bookstore around the corner,” Sabrina stopped Y/N before walking into the small coffee shop in a small town next to Beacon Hills. 

“Okay. Do you want anything?” Y/N asked.

“Get me an iced mocha.”

“You got it.” Y/N walked into the coffee shop and stood in line. She looked at the menu, deciding what she wanted before pulling out her wallet. When she placed her order and paid, the casher told her it’ll take a few minutes and would call her when her order is ready.

Y/N turned around and scanned for a table, but immediately did a double take when she thought she saw Stiles. It looked just like him, except he was wearing a beanie and thick-framed glasses. She eyed him closely before walking up to him. He briefly looked up from his laptop and gave her a small, polite smile before sipping from his coffee cup. Except, she noticed his smile was different from Stiles’. She didn’t know what was going on but the resemblances between this guy and Stiles was uncanny. It’s almost as if Stiles had a twin too.

“Hi,” Y/N smiled.

“Hi,” he said back.

“I’m sorry to approach you like this, especially since you don’t know me, but you look exactly like my friend-“

“Stuart, I’m sorry. That was Scott and I have to answer his calls because with him, you never know what he’s calling for,” Stiles spoke as he walked up to the table while looking at his phone before putting it back in his pocket. He froze in place as soon as he saw Y/N.

“Stiles…” Y/N said slowly, finally finishing her pervious sentence for Stuart. She pointed between the two in completely shock. “You two are…”

“Twins,” they said in unison.

“Wow, I mean I knew that wasn’t you because his smile is also different from yours, but I never thought he was actually your twin brother. How come you never told me? Or any of us?” She rambled quickly.

The two boys smiled at her, their smiles completely different from one another, as Stuart’s is more of a smirk compared to Stiles’ soft smile. He extended his hand out. “Hi, I’m Stuart. You must be Y/N.” 

Y/N shook his hand. “Yeah, how did you know?”

“Well, my brother talks about you all the time and he may have mentioned you ramble during certain situations, which ironically, so does he,” he chuckled as he noticed his twin brother scratching the back of his neck nervously.

She bit her bottom lip as she looked back at Stiles. He gestured at one of the chairs. “Would you like to join us?”

She sat down and shook her head before looking back at Stuart. “I’m sorry. I was rude before. It’s nice to meet you, too.” Stuart chuckled as she looked back at Stiles. “How come you never told me?”

“Well, given the dangerous town we live in, I didn’t want anyone to know I had a twin to go after or use as bait for some sort of trap. I … we’re protecting him from it,” Stiles explained.

“Me going to a private school in Mountain View helps. I only visit once a month, sometimes twice,” Stuart added.

“The only ones that know are Scott and Lydia since we grew up and went to the same schools together,” Stiles finished up.

Y/N nodded, completely understanding why Stiles and his father hid him from the supernatural world. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“I trust you,” Stuart stood up with his coffee cup in his hand.

“You do?” Y/N asked. “We just met.”

He nodded. “Stiles trusts you. So I trust you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at Stiles before looking back at Stuart. “How much did he tell you about me?”

Stuart chuckled as Stiles gave him a knowing look, the one where he would kill him if he said too much. “There’s simply not enough time to tell you much my brother talks about the most beautiful girl in the world.” Stiles cheeks flushed as Y/N smiled at him. “I’m getting a refill. Do you need anything?” Stuart asked. 

“Y/N!” The casher called out, signaling her drinks were ready.

“I’ll get that for you,” Stuart offered as he walked towards the front counter.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Stiles quickly apologized.

“I’m not,” Y/N smiled. “I’m very curious to hear more about your brother and what you’ve told him about me on our date tomorrow night.”

“I can’t wait,” Stiles smiled.

“I should probably get back to my sister. She’s waiting for me at the bookstore,” Y/N stood up as Stuart came back with the drinks. “It was nice meeting you. I hope to see you again.”

“Likewise,” he smiled.

“Stiles-“

“Let me walk you out,” Stiles interrupted before leading the way out of the coffee shop. “So, I have a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“Where would you like to go eat for our first date?” He smiled.

“Umm,” she playfully hummed. “Nothing fancy, yet causal where we’ll have fun and talk.”

“I know just the place.���

“Really? Where?”

“That’ll be a surprise,” he chuckled.

“I like surprises,” Y/N smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” Sitles waved before he watched her walk down the street and to the bookstore. Stiles walked back in and noticed the huge smirk on his twin brother’s face. “What?”

“So… that’s Y/N? The girl you’re in love with?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles sighed. “Do you think I’m crazy? I mean she’s totally out of my league. What if I screw up this first date? What if I ruin what could be the best thing in my life?”

Stuart chuckled as he patted his twin brother’s shoulder. “You’re going to be just fine. Everything will work out.”

“How do you know that?” Stiles asked.

“Because she smiles at you the same way you look at her. She loves you, too.” Stiles smiled as everything he was suddenly worried about disappeared.

[itsjawren]

Chapter 20: February

               Cloudia, held control for a lot longer then she or anyone expected, she made it until Valentine’s Day her room was decorated by the puppies. With construction paper hearts and flowers. she got cards from the Oh No Trio,( Cora, Stiles, and Jackson) , and her Mischief made her chocolate as well, with the help of Dean all salt free, even though she said she could eat the stuff. Peter got Dean to make her salted caramels just to spite them with a grin on his face that lasted until her mischief was in tears, crying about poison where peter promptly took the chocolate away, except one, she really did like them though.  Her favorite part of the day was dinner with her fake husband, she played the part of loving wife for so long that, somewhere along the way she might have stopped playing … just a bit.

               Cloudia will be the first to admit, that she was the worst at this whole human thing, especially in the beginning, fighting with Dean all the time, and the Hales never wanting or being able to be near her. Looking back on it, it was crazy, she barely left the rack before being allowed top side, then there was a baby involved not to mention Winchesters, and a pack of wolves. Cloudia sat sipping a small glass of grape juice, alcohol and her slurry of meds don’t mix apparently…well for humans at least, and looked at the decorations and gifts from her family she somehow gained being top side, Dean was an asshole most days, but he was good to her Mischief in Cloudia’s opinion his heart was too big to be a hunter. The puppies were so good to her Mischief as well, and they never once mentioned the rotten egg smell that she knows she smells like to them. Jackson was family too, even though he was a little too snotty in her opinion, and they were like similarly charged magnets because of that amulet he wears.  And even though the connection is still new and they met under odd circumstances Cloudia even liked her nurse and her crooked jawed son, who visits her with Mischief every once in a while. Cloudia thinks that Stiles assumes himself the kid’s guardian angel… Well he certainly plays on the kid’s shoulders a lot as either angel or devil. So yes Cloudia made quite the life for herself up here.

               Smiling at Noah, who was putting her bouquet of blue Gerber daisies her favorite colour and flower, except one Orange one, she assumes is from Stiles, into a vase.

               “I love you, Noah” Cloudia smiles winningly at him before patting the spot in the bed beside her. And that’s how she fell asleep that night with a smile on her face wrapped up in Noah’s arms feeling as safe as ever.

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