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nino-rox · 5 months ago

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Stiles Stilinski x Male Reader | S

Warnings: NSFW Gay Sex, Explicit content, Teen Wolf AU, Teen Wolf x Male reader, Top Stiles Stilinski x Bottom Male Reader, degradation, raw (please use protection !)

Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post

NOT PROOF READ !

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{A/N: Not proof-read! Have fun Pookies <3}

The thundering bass of the rave wrapped around Stiles like a living thing, vibrating through his chest, shaking the ground beneath his feet. Strobe lights flashed like lightning across the crowd—a blur of sweaty bodies, neon accents, and wild energy that surged with every beat. The air was thick with sweat, alcohol, and smoke, and it felt like chaos incarnate.

But none of that mattered to Stiles.

Because Y/N was here.

And holy crap, he looked good.

“Scott!” Stiles hissed, his voice barely cutting through the music. He grabbed his friend’s arm, nearly dislocating it in his urgency. “Scott! Look.”

Scott stumbled slightly, squinting in the direction Stiles was pointing. “Is that… Y/N?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s Y/N,” Stiles confirmed, his voice cracking slightly. “I knew he was lying. He said he was too busy, right? Those were his exact words. Too busy. But now he’s here, and—oh my God.”

Scott glanced at him, eyebrow raised. “Maybe he just didn’t want to come with us, man.”

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second, do you see him?” Stiles stammered, gesturing wildly toward the figure leaning casually against the bar. “Look at him! He’s a whole—he’s like—Scott, he’s a walking thirst trap.”

“Dude,” Scott sighed, already tired of this, but Stiles wasn’t listening anymore.

Y/N was there, drink in hand, the pulsing neon lights painting his skin in shades of purple and red. His dark button-down was halfway unbuttoned, hanging loose around his torso, and Stiles’ eyes zeroed in on the exposed lines of his collarbone, sharp enough to draw blood. His sleeves were rolled up, the veins on his forearms faintly visible in the light. But it was the shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of his abs—a sheen of sweat glistening faintly—that made Stiles’ throat go completely dry.

And then, the jeans.

They were impossibly, unfairly tight, hugging Y/N’s thighs in a way that made Stiles’ brain glitch like an old computer. When Y/N shifted his weight, Stiles’ eyes darted, unbidden, to the curve of his bubble butt, and a very inappropriate thought hit him like a truck: That’s not fair. No one’s butt should look that good in jeans. I could probably grab—

“Stop staring at his ass, Stiles,” Scott muttered, elbowing him hard.

“I’m not—okay, fine, maybe I was,” Stiles said defensively, snapping his head up to find Y/N’s face instead.

Only to find that Y/N was looking right at him, a sly, knowing smile curving his lips. Stiles’ heart stuttered violently, and Y/N gave the faintest tilt of his head before turning back to his drink.

“I’m dead,” Stiles whispered, running a hand down his face.

“You’re embarrassing,” Scott corrected with a smirk. “Let’s just say hi before you combust.”

As they pushed closer, the details of Y/N became sharper. Stiles could see the faint flush to his cheeks, the way his hair looked messily perfect, as though he hadn’t even tried. His posture was lazy, his body loose and relaxed in a way that screamed confidence. Stiles wanted to touch him—trace a finger down the bare column of his throat, drag his teeth against that stupidly perfect collarbone. Mark him, his brain supplied unhelpfully.

Stiles was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Y/N had turned toward them until it was too late.

“Hey, guys!” Y/N called, his grin wide and inviting. The music muffled his words, but they still hit Stiles like a punch to the chest. He had that lazy slur to his voice, the kind that said he’d already been drinking, and his smile was slightly crooked, his eyes bright with mischief.

“Hey!” Stiles blurted, far too enthusiastically. “You—uh—you’re here! You said you weren’t coming!”

Y/N shrugged, taking a long sip of his drink before leaning forward slightly, voice dropping to a teasing lilt. “Plans change.”

And then—he winked.

Stiles froze, his face turning a dangerous shade of red. Scott, mercifully, stepped in to save him. “We were just gonna look for Allison,” Scott said, his tone amused but casual. “You and Stiles have fun.”

Scott gave Stiles a quick thumbs-up before disappearing into the crowd. Stiles didn’t even have time to glare at him because Y/N stepped closer, his body brushing against Stiles’ arm.

“Come drink with me,” Y/N said, reaching out to grab Stiles’ wrist.

The contact burned in the best way possible—Y/N’s palm was warm, his fingers rough and strong. Stiles’ heart nearly leapt out of his chest as Y/N tugged him toward the bar, weaving through the crowd with a casual ease that made Stiles’ brain sputter.

They ended up with shots in their hands, Y/N grinning like he’d won something. “Cheers,” he said, raising his glass, his fingers brushing Stiles’ again in a lingering, deliberate way.

Stiles swallowed, his eyes locking onto Y/N’s. “Cheers.”

They downed their drinks, and Stiles coughed, the burn of alcohol scorching his throat. Y/N laughed, leaning into him as they both stumbled slightly. The motion brought their faces close, their foreheads nearly touching.

“Careful there, lightweight,” Y/N teased, voice low and warm.

“Careful yourself,” Stiles shot back, trying to sound confident even though his brain was short-circuiting.

The music shifted, deepening into something heavier, darker. Y/N turned toward him, his grin softening as he tilted his head. “Dance with me.”

Stiles barely had time to process before Y/N’s hands were sliding around his neck, their bodies aligning as though they were made to fit. Stiles’ own hands found Y/N’s bare waist, his fingers brushing over the smooth skin. He swore he could feel the heat radiating off Y/N.

They moved slowly at first, the beat thudding like a heartbeat beneath their feet. Stiles’ gaze dropped again—Y/N’s shirt was long gone, tossed somewhere near the bar, and all that was left was miles of skin and muscle, flushed pink from the heat and alcohol.

Teeth marks, Stiles thought helplessly. I want to leave teeth marks right there.

Y/N’s fingers curled into the nape of his neck, drawing him closer until their foreheads nearly touched. Stiles could feel Y/N’s breath on his lips, warm and faintly sweet.

“You’re staring,” Y/N murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Stiles didn’t even pretend to deny it. “Can you blame me?”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound barely audible over the music. “No,” he whispered. “Not really.”

Their movements slowed, more swaying than dancing now, the space between them nonexistent. Stiles tightened his grip on Y/N’s waist, his thumbs brushing slow, deliberate circles against the bare skin. Y/N shivered slightly under his touch, and Stiles grinned, leaning in just enough that his lips brushed the corner of Y/N’s jaw.

Y/N sucked in a sharp breath, his grip on Stiles’ neck tightening.

“I should’ve dragged you here sooner,” Y/N murmured, his voice soft but charged.

Stiles smirked, letting his hands slide a little lower, teasing the edge of Y/N’s waistband. “Better late than never.”

Y/N didn’t respond—not with words, anyway. Instead, he leaned in, their lips hovering dangerously close, the tension between them so thick it felt like it might snap.

And Stiles was perfectly fine with that.

He closed the distance between them, pressing his lips firmly against Y/N, his grip on the other boy’s waist tightening and pulling him closer - till they could completely feel each other. It was electric, the way they fit together, their bodies moving instinctively.

As Y/N’s hands held Stiles face, their tongues intertwining in a dance of its own, a feeling of euphoria rushed through him, like nothing else existed. Just the two of them, their breaths mingling and hearts pounding together in sync.

It was perfect.

When they finally pulled away, both boys were flushed, breathing heavily and staring into each other's eyes. The intensity between them was palpable, and as they slowly began to regain their composure, they couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"That was... unexpected," Stiles remarked, chuckling slightly.

"You're telling me," Y/N replied, a slight blush spreading across his cheeks.

Stiles bit his lip, glancing up at him. "So, are we doing this?"

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

Stiles smiled, leaning in and gently pressing his lips against the other boy's, before whispering, "Let's get out of here."

They left the club, their fingers intertwined and their hearts beating rapidly in anticipation. The air was cool and crisp, and as they basically ran down the street to Stiles’ jeep. The tension between them was growing with every passing moment, and it wasn't long before they wouldn’t be making it do bed.

Pushed against the jeep, Stiles Stilinski and Y/N, kissing hungrily. Y/N was pinned against the car door, their tongues fighting for dominance. They were both moaning loudly, and it was obvious that the sexual tension between them had grown too much.

"We're not going to make it to the bed, are we?" Y/N murmured against Stiles's lips, his voice breathy and heavy with lust.

"Hell no," Stiles growled, pulling y/n off the car, hurriedly slamming the jeep’s back door open. They fell into the backseat, their limbs tangling, and the next thing they knew, they were kissing again.

It was passionate and messy, the air between them filled with nothing but heat and desire. They were both panting and moaning, their hands roaming each other's bodies, exploring every inch. Stiles took a moment to pause and just admire Y/N … in his car … he was so ready to ravage that body.

“You’re drooling sexy,” Y/N said as he winked, sending Stiles a smirk.

Stiles wasted no time in dragging his lips down the other boy's neck, pushing the other on his back. His skin was warm and soft, and as he reached the collarbone, he bit down, drawing a loud moan from y/n, whose hands snaked their way grabbing & tugging at Stiles’ hair.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he breathed into y/n’s neck, running his hands over y/n's bare chest and torso.

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his chest, and Y/N squirmed beneath him as the other’s tongue flicked across his nipple. He then moved to the other, sucking and nibbling. Y/N arched his back, letting out a string of whimpers.

"God, Stiles..."

Y/N bucked his hips up, desperate for some friction, but Stiles held him down, pressing him further into the car seat. His mouth continued its trail downwards, stopping to nibble at y/n's hip bones, biting, bruising and - marking.

Y/N’s already had a fucked out expression, one that Stiles was coming to love.

Y/N’s hands sneaked under Stiles’ t-shirt, roughly yanking it off.

“You’re sure getting needy,” Stiles said smirking as he dragged his tongue across Y/N’s v-line again, placing gentle kisses on the burning bruises, licking occasionally - making y/n arch his back his pleasure and pain.

"You're so good with your mouth," Y/N moaned, his eyes shut tight as his fingers tangled in Stiles' hair.

"Oh, trust me. You haven't seen anything yet," Stiles muttered, his voice low and husky.

Y/N let out another moan as he felt Stiles' fingers hook on the hem of his boxers, sliding them down painfully slow. Once they were discarded on the floor, he immediately turned the other around, gently smacking his ass.

Y/N gasped, a moan escaping his lips as the pain slowly turned into pleasure, making him rock his hips back, his cock rubbing against the leather seat.

"Fuck your ass is so juicy,” Stiles growled as his hands squeezed Y/N’s ass, spreading them apart. He leaned down, blowing gently against his hole.

"Please," Y/N breathed, his body shivering. "Stiles, please."

Stiles smirked and licked a wet stripe along the crack, tasting Y/N, hearing him moan loudly.

"Oh my God," Y/N panted, his fingers gripping the car seat. "Please, Stiles."

"Begging already, huh?" Stiles whispered, his voice dripping with lust. "You're so fucking sexy."

Stiles leaned forward again, this time letting his tongue slip inside. Y/N's legs shook, and he let out a long moan, his cock leaking onto the seat.

He continued to fuck the other with his tongue, his finger slowly creeping up the crack, teasing his hole, as his other hand grabbed y/n’s dripping cock.

"You taste amazing," he groaned, stroking the other.

"Fuck, Stiles, I'm gonna cum," Y/N whimpered, his legs shaking.

Stiles pulled away, his lips red and swollen.

"I don't think so, sweetheart," he said, his eyes glinting.

He flipped y/n around, pressing his lips against the other cock deep-throating it hungrily. Y/N's body arched, his eyes rolling back.

“Fuck STILES Oh MY GOD!” Y/N squealed arching his back as Stiles continued furiously bobbing his head, his finger gently massaging Y/N’s hole.

"Shit, fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Y/N screamed, but Stiles had other ideas.

He quickly pulled his mouth away from the other, leaving him a whimpering, horny mess, as he pushed a finger into his hole.

"Please, please, I need to cum," he begged, his eyes pleading.

"You'll get to," Stiles promised, leaning down and sucking on his nipple.

Y/N was practically sobbing, his body convulsing. "Please, fuck me, please," he begged, tears streaming down his face.

"You're so fucking hot," Stiles muttered, pushing another finger inside.

Y/N cried out, his whole body shuddering as he came hard, his cum spraying all over his stomach.

"Fuck, that was hot, and I haven’t even gotten started yet," Stiles breathed, his cock twitching.

"Stiles," Y/N gasped, his chest heaving. "I need you to fuck me."

Stiles smirked, his hand running along the other's length.

"You're such a dirty slut, aren't you?" he teased, pressing his fingers into the other's entrance.

"Please," Y/N begged, his face flushed, with the most fucked out expression every, the kind that made Stiles’ hard on HURT even more.

Stiles pulled his fingers out, and pushed them in repeatedly, thrusting, and curving his fingers. Y/N was writhing and panting, his cock already hard again, his prostate sending waves of arousal through him.

"Fuck, I can't wait any longer," Stiles growled, unbuckling his pants as he licked his lips.

Y/N got up, grabbing stiles arm pushing him down. Straddling him and rubbing his ass on his raging hard on.

"Fuck me, How are you so huge,” y/n said panting as the other positioned himself.

"You're the one who's going to take all of this," he growled, grabbing y/n by the hips.

Stiles bucked his hips, his tip prodding but not entering the other's hole.

"Fuck, stop teasing," Y/N said, his voice trembling.

"Beg for it," he whispered, his fingers digging into the other's flesh.

"Please, please, I need it, I want it, fuck, please, Please let me ride you! I want you I want you so bad," Y/N whimpered, his legs shaking.

Stiles gave him a wicked smile and slowly bucking his hips, entering the other with his tip, and slowly letting himself fill the other.

"Ah, fuck, you're so tight," Stiles moaned, his hands gripping the other's waist.

"Ah, ah, ah," Y/N whimpered as he felt the other fill him up, stretching his walls, his body tensing.

"Oh my god, fuck, you're so big," Y/N groaned, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

"God, you feel so fucking good," Stiles grunted, his fingers digging into the other's hips, spanking his ass as hard as he could.

Y/N moaned, his eyes rolling back, his body shivering.

"Please, please, harder, fuck me harder, oh my god," he whimpered, his voice a low whine.

"I'll give you harder," Stiles grunted, spanking the other, as he began thrusting into the other with full force.

"Fuck, you're such a slut, aren't you?" he groaned, his nails raking across the other's back, unconsciously drawing blood.

"Oh, fuck, please, yes, fuck me harder, harder," Y/N begged, his body tensing, his cock throbbing.

"That's right, beg for it," he growled, spanking the other again.

Stiles’ hands moved all over y/n’s body, as if he was making a mental map of every inch of him - and now it all belonged to him. His fingers gently played with Y/N’s nipple, causing him to squirm.

"Fuck, you're so hot, so beautiful," Stiles murmured, his thrusts growing more erratic, y/n struggling to keep riding at such a pace.

"I'm gonna cum," Y/N panted, his body trembling, his toes curling.

"Not yet, not yet, I'm not finished with you yet," Stiles grunted, his grip tightening. As he pushed y/n onto his back.

"Wait, what, are you gonna-"

Before he could finish, Stiles was pushing the other's legs apart, his tip brushing against his hole.

"Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes," Y/N moaned, his body arching.

"Such a good little slut," Stiles said, grinning down at the other, his cock throbbing, as he entered the other's hole.

"Yes, yes, oh my god," y/n panted, his hands gripping the leather seat.

Stiles thrust deep and hard, his tip brushing against the other's prostate, causing him to scream, his whole body spasming.

"You like that, don't you?" he grunted, thrusting deeper, harder.

"Yes, oh god, yes, please, please, fuck, don't stop, don't stop," y/n begged, his body shuddering, his legs trembling.

"So tight, you're so tight, fuck," Stiles moaned, his hips slamming against the other, his balls slapping the other's ass, his grip on the other's hips almost painful.

"Harder, harder, fuck, fuck, please, fuck, oh my god," Y/N cried, his face twisted in pleasure, his cock dripping, as Stiles slammed his prostate with his thick 10 inches.

"Such a slut," Stiles grunted, his nails digging into the other's thighs.

"Yes, fuck, I'm your slut, fuck, I'm your dirty whore, please, I'm your fucking slut, fuck me, use me, oh my god, please, fuck, oh god," Y/N whimpered, his words incoherent, his mind spinning, his whole body shaking.

"I'm gonna cum," Stiles growled, gripping the other's hair, as he bit down hard sinking his teeth into y/n’s neck again -

| his thrusts growing erratic.

"Cum in me, cum in me, please, fuck, I want it, I want it," y/n begged, his legs wrapping around the other, pulling him closer, his hands clutching the leather seat.

"Take it," Stiles growled, thrusting his full length deep into the other's tight, hot hole, as he shot his load inside.

"Fuck, fuck, yes, yes, oh god, fuck," Y/N panted, his eyes rolling back, his legs quivering, as the other filled him, his whole body shuddering with orgasm.

They stayed like that for a few moments, both of them panting, sweaty, and breathless, their bodies glistening in the dim light and sweat.

"Holy shit," Stiles finally managed to say, still not pulling out of the other, his cock still twitching, his breathing ragged.

"Yeah," Y/N panted, his eyes still unfocused, his face flushed.

"That was..."

"Fucking amazing," Y/N finished for him, grinning, his hair matted, his body drenched.

"Yeah," Stiles said, his chest still heaving.

"Yeah," Y/N agreed, his breathing beginning to steady.

"So, what do we do now?"

"Well, we could always go again," Stiles said, smirking.

"I like the way you think," Y/N said, laughing softly.

(Author’s Note: RINSE AND REPEAT BITCHES ! Thank you for reading ! This was originally written for my Stiles x male oc reader Story: ANOMALY. So please don't be shocked if I reformat and edit to put this smut into ANOMALY! THANK YOU FOR READING )

CHECK OUT ANOMALY ! From my master list in bio!

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kitoshii · 1 year ago

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Omg i just love your first fan fic definitely needs a part 2 maybe where bunny reader finds out that they actually got pregnant with mr.wolf and reader is just so confused but he decides to tell mr.wolf the news and mr.wolf is just watching t.v when bunny reader comes in and wolf is just so horny that he drags bunny reader to their room and do the cha-cha but this is just an idea write you're fan fiction how you want to write it

hellooo nonnie ! so your request did help me decide on a part two, but i changed some things ‘nd cut the pregnancy part, i really hope you don’ mind ! | pt 1 here

whos ? subbot ! bunny hybrid ! male ! reader x domtop ! wolf hybrid ! male ! character

lovin ? heavy orgasm denial , predator / prey themes , hair pulling , breeding , size kink , marking , overstim , full nelson , feminization , readers dick referred to as a clit

stretching your arms over your head as you lean back in your plush gaming chair, a soft pop echoes from your wrist. the sound makes you shake your ears, before standing up and closing your laptop carefully.

tugging your shorts down your legs, the soft click and thump of the front door had your ears twitching in attention, a little smile gracing your face as you assumed it was your mother coming home.

you opened your door, quickly flitting down the stairs with your moms name at the top of your tongue, before skidding to a stop, your socks slipping on the slick wooden floor, falling on your butt at the last stair. a loud squeak escaped your mouth, and your hands flung out, attempting to grasp onto the tight shirt of the tall wolf in front of you.

your hands retracted as quick as they had come, delicate fingers clasped against your chest. there was a moment of silence before your wide eyes nervously looked up, only to find him already staring down his nose at you with narrowed eyes. to your fear ridden mind, it seemed like they were glowing with a predatory urge and your breath hitched, suddenly reminded that you were in fact a prey animal.

a smirk spread across his lips, his eyes narrowing further for just a second before turning to his father, who peered around him curiously.

“he slipped.” he muttered, watching as the older wolf nodded, a concerned look on his face before walking to join your mother in the kitchen.

your eyes were still locked onto his frame, and when his met yours again you flinched, realizing you were still on the ground. shaky legs planted themselves on the ground, your arms attempting to push yourself up before a large hand was tucked under your arm, pulling you to your feet. you stumbled forward into his chest, face planted there until his other hand carded through your hair, tugging your head back to look up at him.

“you’re clumsy, cottontail.”

you almost whimpered at his actions, closing your thighs together without thinking, trembling hands coming up and grabbing onto his shirt. your eye contact only faltered for just a second when he glanced down, a cocky - and slightly predatory - smirk one again gracing his face. he tugged on your hair harder, leaning down so his lips were next to your ear.

“run, little bunny.” he whispered, his words accentuated by a deep, quiet growling that seemed to come from the back of his throat. his grip on you faltered and you were still for a moment, before you stepped back, foot slipping on the steps, and suddenly you were scrambling up the stairs, reaching your room ‘nd slamming the door behind you.

“what was that?” your mother called, peeking out from behind the wall to the kitchen, making eye contact with the younger wolf.

“it’s nothing.” he smiled, waving his hand ‘nd walking to the living room to sit on the couch, leaning back ‘nd manspreading his legs with the remote to the t.v in hand as if nothing had happened.

his father and your mother passed by the couch, his hair being ruffled by the small woman. “your dad and i want to go out for a bit, is that alright with you ?” she asked sweetly, leaning over the armrest of the couch, his father playing with her bent ears idly.

“thats fine,” he grunted, sitting up from his slouched position. “how long will y’ be gone?”

“don’t know yet. we’ll text Y/N when we’re on the way home, kay?” the youngest nodded in acknowledgment, and his father patted his head before they were on their way, the front door shutting behind them with a soft click.

you came walking down the stairs not long after, your steps slow and tentative. you noted the lack of shoes by the front door, coming to the quick conclusion that the adults had left - and you had half a mind to go back up to your room and not come out, but you had caught his eyes quickly and now his attention was on you.

offering him a nervous smile, you kept your head down and walked quickly to the far side of the couch, sitting down and focusing on the television. a short chuckle left his mouth as he took quick notice of something.

“what happened to the pretty pink shorts you were wearing earlier?” he asks, his eyes still trained on the tv in front of him, and you could only look down, embarrassed, because you had in fact changed your shorts to some plain black ones after soiling the others - but theres no way you could tell him that.

“.. they were too small for me.” you mumbled after a few moments, and he looked over to you, his eyes trailing down to your thighs and back to your face with an eyebrow raise and you realize how stupid that excuse was because these shorts are also tight - hugging your dick and squeezing your thighs.

your face flared in red, crossing your legs and tugging your sweater down.

“let me ask you again, doll,” he started, reaching out and tugging you towards him by your waist, his body moving so he was facing you, one knee resting on the couch. “why’d you change your shorts?”

you stared at your hands that were on your lap, holding your sweater down over half of your thighs.

“i… i told you..” you stumbled over your words, breath hitching when you felt his hand tighten around your waist. you only heard him grunt before you were stumbling on your feet, a harsh grip around your wrist.

your back hit the mattress, his large hands pulling you towards him roughly, plush thighs resting over his muscular ones. a whimper from you made his fluffy ears twitch, sharp eyes narrowing as he ran his big hands over your thighs, reveling in the way your body jerked.

your soft ears perked up as he began to talk, his deep ‘nd demanding voice sounding ominous to your muddled mind.

“now, i can either….” he started, big hands running under your sweater ‘nd across your stomach, “abuse your poor little clit,” he continued with a chuckle, squeezing your small cock to accentuate his words, making your back arch, “nd use you for my own pleasure without lettin’ you cum once,” he pushed up your sweater, flicking your nipple harshly, “or you can tell me the real answer, ‘nd i’ll fuck you like a good boy deserves to be fucked.”

you panted harshly, closing your eyes tight and gritting your teeth, your knuckles turning white as your small hands fisted the sheets under you.

“i- i… i fuckin- told you!” you gasped out, shaking your head as he flicked your dick with a sigh.

“well, i did warn you.”

“h-hnghh !” you squealed, voice muffled as your head was pressed into the mattress by his strong hands, struggling to breathe between your heavy breaths and lack of space.

he’d been fucking you for a while now, harsh teeth marks clear around your nipples, on your neck, and even your arms. you felt completely ruined, your hard, leaky, and red cock bouncing underneath you with every thrust, the hairtie around the base of it stopping you from cumming throughout this whole session, although you’re sure you’re multiple dry orgasms in.

his big cock presses against your prostate unrelentingly, strong arms pressing into you at different areas as he holds his weight against you, his thrusts so harsh ‘nd so fast you can barely tell apart his thrusts in and slides out of your poor, ruined hole.

a loud sob is ripped from you when his hand that was holding your head down is suddenly wrapped around your cock, his finger teasing the tip.

“you wanna cum, bunny?” he asks with faux sympathy, teasing the area around the hairtie, his cock still fucking into you with no mercy.

“y-yes! g-gna cum ! cum - please!” you squeak, your legs kicking up from the bed, feeling your gut twist once again with the painful need to release, your body convulsing under his as he only grins with pride.

“that’s too bad, isn’t it?” he practically coos in your ear, his voice lust filled, condescending, and predatory. theres a grunt from behind you and suddenly you’re being lifted, your chest to his back, legs slipped from under you, his muscular arms holding them in the crook of his elbows, and he wastes no time in pummeling back into your ruined hole in that position, cock kissing places you didn’t even think existed inside of you.

you feel like the breath is knocked from your lungs and you attempt to scratch at his arms because your small cock is so fucking ruined, ‘s pathetically leaking precum like a faucet, bouncing against your stomach as it loses some of it’s hardness - simply because the dry orgasms have taken so much out of you.

“look at that.. little clit’s showin’ me just how useless it really is.” he growls, biting deep into the marked skin of your neck afterwards, his swollen knot pressing against your puffy hole as his dick twitches inside of you, his head spinning and overwhelmed with the need to bulge your belly with his puppies.

“shit, bunny.. got me cummin’ so soon.” he huffs, a sloppy grin on his face as his hips never falter , even with how daringly close he is to teetering over the edge ‘nd filling your hole up.

his head shakes, ears twitching as his breathing picks up heavily, trying to center his mind, as it runs to fucking you until you pass out, using your pretty holes till youre filled with his cum and covered in his scent - his strong arms and hands increasing the grip he had on your legs.

he adjusts his arms so your legs are practically touching your ears, his hand coming up to shove large fingers in your mouth, his own baring his fangs into your shoulder - thrusting deep ‘nd hard into your little cunt, filling your stomach with his cum.

a loud wail is muffled against his digits, sobs wracking your chest as you convulse so harshly you’re practically pushed out of his arms, your head shaking back and forth.

“shit..” he mumbles, barking out a laugh. “forgot you had that on.” theres a large grin on his face as he sets your legs down, turning you onto your back. his hands work at untying the hairtie from your dick - rutting back into your hole with a few deep, rough thrusts once it’s off, bathing in the scream you release.

“y’said you wanted to cum, yeah?”

ahhh, i did it ! y’guys proud of me? ૮꒰ˊᗜˋ ꒱ა

#xo . kitoshii #sub male reader #bottom male reader #bottom gn reader #bottom reader #bunny hybrid #dom male character #dom top character #sub gn reader #mlm nsft #knotting cw #feminization cw #breeding cw #wolf hybrid #sub nsft #top jjk #top cod #top gojo

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bigsoftwolf · 1 year ago

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Feeling real service top rn. Wanna please and spoil a pretty boy so bad. Maybe I'm just getting kinda yearny but just feeling soft ig. Don't get me wrong I'll still call you a slut but I'll kiss your neck while I do it <3

#soft d0m #service top #ftm dom #t4t nsft #mlm nsft #ftm nsft #ftm top #mlm ns/fw #ftm ns/fw #gay nsft #t4t mlm #ftm sub #mr wolf barks #dom thoughts #topposting

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hearts-4buck · 2 months ago

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Thiam incorrect tweets !!

I love them so much guys you don't understand 💔

#thiam #theo raeken #gay theo raeken #liam dunbar #bi liam dunbar #mlm #mlm yearning #teen wolf #teen wolf incorrect tweets #uncorrect tweets #IVE MISSED TAGGING ON TUMBLR #LIKE SO MUCH #incorrect tweets

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marvelsgirl616 · 2 months ago

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♡ — sterek — ♡

#sterek #stiles stilinski #derek x stiles #teen wolf stiles #derek hale #derek hale x stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x derek hale #teen wolf text posts #text post #mtv teen wolf #teen wolf series #teen wolf #teen wolf season 1 #teen wolf memes #teen wolf mtv #tyler hoechlin #dylan o'brien #mlm textpost

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hanespiritu · 26 days ago

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MY LITTLE WOLF

(Antinous x Telemachus)

written by: Han Espiritu

---

The first time Antinous saw Telemachus, he had laughed.

Not out of mirth, nor amusement, but because the young prince looked so much like his mother, it was almost absurd. The same bright eyes, the same regal bearing, the same defiant pride etched into every curve of his face. But what made it truly humorous—at least to Antinous at the time—was that Telemachus, despite his noble blood, carried himself like a wolf pup trying to bare its fangs at seasoned hunters.

“Look at him,” Antinous had scoffed to Eurymachus, “our little prince, all fire and no bite. Do you think he believes his glare alone could send us running?”

Eurymachus had chuckled, and the other suitors had joined in, jeering, taunting.

“Poor Little Wolf,” Antinous had said mockingly, tilting his head in mock pity. “Has your mother not told you? The pack does not bow to the cub.”

Telemachus had burned with anger, but he had been helpless then—young, untested, and alone amidst a den of jackals. He had clenched his fists and turned away, enduring the humiliation in silence.

---

But years passed, and the Little Wolf did not remain a cub.

Telemachus grew into himself, his once-awkward presence sharpening into something undeniable. He had the beauty of his mother, yes, but the steel of his absent father. He moved with a quiet, calculated grace, his voice steady and sure, his gaze no longer a boy’s glare but something deeper, something piercing.

And Antinous… Antinous could not stop looking at him.

The jeers faded. The taunts turned to silence. The laughter choked in his throat. For the longer he teased Telemachus, the longer he was forced to observe him, to understand him. To want him.

“Still glaring at me, Little Wolf?” he murmured one evening as they stood at the peristyle, away from the drunken feasting. The torches flickered, casting long shadows against the marble. “Or is it something else now?”

Telemachus turned to him, his expression unreadable. “I should be asking you the same thing, Antinous. You no longer laugh. Have I ceased to amuse you?”

Antinous smirked, but there was no malice in it. “Oh, you amuse me, Telemachus. But not in the way you used to.”

“And what way is that?”

For once, Antinous had no answer.

---

One night, as the halls quieted and the suitors lay in their drunken stupors, Antinous found himself walking alongside Telemachus once more. The wine in his blood gave him courage—or perhaps recklessness. Either way, he spoke before he could stop himself.

“What if,” he began, “I were to change?”

Telemachus gave him a wary glance. “Change?”

“What if I no longer sought your mother? What if I no longer played the game of suitors?”

Telemachus stopped walking. He turned fully to face Antinous, his expression unreadable. “And what would you seek instead?”

Antinous hesitated. He had prepared for resistance, for anger, for cold dismissal. He had not prepared for Telemachus to ask, to want to know.

“…A friend,” he said at last, though the word felt like sand in his mouth.

Telemachus laughed softly, shaking his head. “A friend? You, who mocked me for years?”

Antinous sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yes. Or… more.” He swallowed. “But I would be respectful.”

A slow, knowing smile spread across Telemachus’ lips. He took a step closer, tilting his head just so, the firelight catching in his eyes. “Respectful?” he echoed. “From you?”

Antinous exhaled sharply, feeling the weight of his own desires pressing against his ribs. “Yes.”

Telemachus studied him, his gaze thoughtful. Then, to Antinous’ utter shock, he reached forward, fingers grazing the fabric of Antinous’ tunic. It was not quite an embrace, but neither was it a dismissal.

“Then tell me, Antinous,” Telemachus murmured, “why do you call me ‘Little Wolf’?”

Antinous smirked, despite himself. “Because,” he whispered, “I thought you were weak. But you weren’t. You were just young.”

“And now?”

“…Now I know better.”

Telemachus nodded slowly, his fingers still lingering against Antinous’ chest. “Good,” he said softly. “Then we’ll see.”

---

And so they did.

Days passed, and the air between them thickened. A glance across the hall felt like a drawn bowstring. A brush of hands was a storm on the horizon. Antinous found himself craving Telemachus’ presence, his sharp wit, his quiet, confident fire. It was dangerous. It was intoxicating.

One evening, as the sun bled over Ithaca’s shores, Antinous found Telemachus by the cliffs, gazing out to sea. He approached without a word, standing beside him.

“You look as though you are waiting for something,” Antinous said at last.

Telemachus sighed, the wind tousling his dark curls. “Perhaps I am.”

“Your father?”

A humorless chuckle. “No. Not anymore.”

Antinous hesitated, then dared to reach out, fingers just barely brushing Telemachus’ wrist. “Then what?”

Telemachus turned his head slightly, looking at him through dark lashes. “A reason.”

Antinous swallowed. “A reason?”

“A reason not to hate you.”

Silence.

Then Antinous did something he never thought he would do—he dropped to one knee. Not in mockery, not in jest, but in quiet, solemn sincerity. He took Telemachus’ hand in his own, pressing his lips to his knuckles.

“Then let me give you one,” he murmured.

Telemachus’ breath hitched. And he did not pull away.

Antinous rose to his feet, and in the darkening twilight, Telemachus closed the space between them. A breath, a heartbeat, and then—

A kiss, slow and searing, stolen between sea breeze and firelight. Not gentle, not chaste, but fierce, filled with years of unspoken tension, of old rivalries turning into something neither of them could name. Antinous curled his fingers into Telemachus’ tunic, pulling him closer, until there was no space between them, no air, no past—only this, only now.

The Little Wolf had bared his fangs at last. And Antinous would gladly let himself be devoured.

---

The air in the chamber was thick, charged with heat and something raw, something unspoken that had been building for far too long. Antinous’ wrists strained against the linen bindings, his muscles flexing as he tested them, but they held firm. Not that he truly wanted to escape. Not when Telemachus was above him, straddling his hips, his breath warm, his eyes ablaze with something feral.

Telemachus ground down against him, slow, deliberate, watching with wicked satisfaction as Antinous groaned, his head tilting back against the pillows. He moved with the grace of a predator, rolling his hips in a way that left Antinous panting, his composure unraveling more with each shift of Telemachus’ body against his own.

“You like this, don’t you?” Telemachus murmured, his voice thick with amusement, with power. He leaned down, lips just brushing the curve of Antinous’ jaw. “You, the great suitor, the one who once mocked me—you like being beneath me.”

Antinous let out a ragged breath, his fingers curling uselessly in their restraints. “Gods, yes.”

Telemachus chuckled, dragging his hands down Antinous’ chest, his nails scraping lightly over his skin, making him shudder. “I could make you beg,” he mused, shifting his weight just enough to make Antinous gasp. “Should I?”

Antinous’ jaw clenched, his pride warring with the burning desire coursing through his veins. But as Telemachus rolled his hips again, pressing down harder, a strangled moan escaped his lips, and he knew—Telemachus knew—there was no war to be won here. Only surrender.

“Say it,” Telemachus commanded, his hands gripping Antinous’ sides, his nails digging in just enough to leave faint marks. “Say you yield.”

Antinous swallowed hard, his pulse thundering in his ears. “I yield,” he rasped, his voice raw with longing, his body burning with the need for more. “Gods, Telemachus—I yield.”

Telemachus smirked, victorious, his hands trailing lower as he leaned down, his lips brushing against Antinous’ ear. “Good,” he purred. “Now, let’s see how much more I can make you beg.”

The night stretched long, filled with heated gasps and teasing laughter, with the sound of bodies moving in perfect, burning rhythm. And for once, Antinous—who had spent years vying for the hand of a queen—realized he had never truly wanted a throne.

He had only ever wanted the wolf who had finally caught him.

•┏────────────────────━

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#boy love #epic the musical #greek mythology #man x man #the odyssey #mlm #mxm #telemachus #telemachus x antinous #antinous #antinous x telemachus #bromance #little wolf #sharpwolf

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