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mf-despair-queen · 5 years

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Ski Trip - Stiles Stilinski

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Stiles Stilinski/Reader

Word Count: 18,427

Summary: Stiles wants to make his senior year ski trip count - memorable. He wanted to confess his crush on his long time friend. Yet, things take a turn when she starts to see Stiles in a new light, her own long time crush coming to the surface.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Protected Sex, Oral (fingering, hand job, blow job), Shower Sex, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Public Fingering

Notes: SURPRISE. I LIVE.

Every year, Beacon Hills High School would hold a winter trip for each of the different classes, a different destination every time.

Freshman year, the drive to Santa Monica was worth listening to the breathy snores of your best friends on either side of you. The sight of the beach, smell of the salty air, the countless unsets you watched while the boys ended up sunburnt.

Sophomore year, the tour of Alcatraz left you with a chill up your spine when you swore you saw a ghost walking up the path while staring out the window. Your pale face will never be forgotten and still, to this day, leaves you the laughing stock of many pack sleepovers.

Junior year gave the relief from the nogitsune, taking a camping trip to Catalina Island. The hiking, the swimming and the campfires with endless smores left you with the sweet feeling - sweeter than the sweet tooth the melted chocolate left you with.

That’s what led you here: Senior year. The final trip you would make in your high school years. Though, that didn’t explain why you were climbing out of a police car at six in the morning on a Friday. The school doors were chained shut - though that didn’t stop people from breaking in before - and a dozen plus buses sitting in the parking lot. Bundles of teens were gathered around, some looking as if they were about to pass out while others were running on so much coffee, they were buzzing and jittering.

You were lucky to be in the middle: tired but awake enough to feel the excitement beginning to seep in. As you climbed from the car, Adidas covered feet placed on the asphalt and the door slammed shut behind you, you couldn’t help but smile at the bus you were going to be loaded into. Coach Finstock was having people load their luggage into the compartment underneath, yelling at students to straighten up for the trip to the mountains.

That’s right. This year’s destination? Big Bear Mountain Resort for a three-day ski trip. Despite your lack of knowledge on skiing, you were hyped to see the vast white horizons, snow being a rarity in Beacon Hills. The eight-hour drive would be painful, the chairs uncomfortable and your shoulder bound to turn into a pillow, but you knew the moment you stepped off the bus and saw the mountains before you, you would be happy you agreed to go.

“Let me out!” you heard behind you. Turning to the voice, you spotted your friend pouting through the window of the cop car you climbed out of. Stiles was stuffed in the back of the vehicle when him and his father arrived to pick you up, Noah kind enough to agree to drop you both off so Roscoe wasn’t left in the parking lot until you returned after the weekend. You had to bite you lip to hold in your snicker, catching Noah’s satisfied grin. You knew he purposefully shoved Stiles in the back, making sure he couldn’t escape on his own.

“What’s the magic word?” you toyed, seeing him pout more.

“If you let me out, I will give you the cookies I stashed away,” he said. You hummed playfully, cocking your head at him. Noah leaned against the car, trying to shield his laugh from watching you torment his son. “Y/N!”

“Y/N what?” you continued.

Stiles sighed, resting his forehead on the glass. “Please?”

You smiled, opening the door before Stiles realized what you were doing. The spastic man flailed his arms wildly, failing to catch himself before he fell to the ground, groaning in pain. You giggled happily, stepping around the stilled man to approach Noah. The sheriff was unloading your luggage, placing each suitcase on the ground before slamming the trunk shut.

“Make sure he doesn’t die,” Noah told you, extending the handle of your suitcase for you. You grinned at your second dad, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek. He happily returned the hug, kissing you on the top of the head. “And have fun.”

“We will, Papa Stilinski,” you told him.

“Stop having a love fest without me!” Stiles whined, grabbing his suitcase. “I feel left out and unloved!”

“Your dad loves me more,” you joked, seeing Stiles pout from the corner of your eye. Breaking from the hug, you turned to your best friend. “Fine. Come here, Sti.”

You missed the way his cheeks lit up when you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head in his chest. The man froze, hesitantly wrapping his arms around your form in return. His father, however, didn’t miss the blush that spread across his cheeks, giving his son a smirk that Stiles knew was the teasing expression he often got for having a crush on you. You were naive enough to miss the clues, leaving Stiles grateful, but his father often prodded at the boy, constantly asking when he would make a move.

“Why don’t you go save us a seat?” Stiles asked, pushing you away. “I’m just going to say bye to my dad and I will be in.”

“Alright,” you agreed. “Don’t take too long. We are supposed to leave soon and Finstock will leave you.”

“I know,” Stiles chuckled, watching you wave one last time at his father before rushing to the bus with your suitcase dragging behind you. Stiles left his lips twitch upwards, the smile on his face growing wider. The smile dropped when he spotted his father’s smile. “What?”

“When are you going to ask her out?” Noah questioned, stepping to his son’s side.

“I don’t want to ruin anything though,” Stiles murmured just loud enough for his dad to hear. “She’s my best friend and I don’t want to lose her by telling her that I’ve had a crush on her since we were ten.”

“If we can have a father-son moment for just a second,” Noah hummed, turning to Stiles. “I’d say go for it. I really don’t think she will reject you like you are thinking.”

“I don’t know…” Stiles sighed. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Mieczyslaw Stilinski,” Noah let out. “Think about it like this. This is your last trip in high school. You will be skiing together. You will have three days that you can figure something out. But, don’t let that time go to waste. Use that time and show her that you care, and you want to be with her. Use that time to get closer to her in ways you normally can’t or don’t. Don’t let this time go to waste.”

Stiles pursed his lips together, glancing at his dad. “I’ll think about it.”

Noah sighed under his breath but wrapped an arm around his son regardless. “Do what you think is right. I just want to see you both happy.” Noah gave Stiles’ shoulder a firm squeeze, seeing his son smile slightly. “Now, go have some fun with your friends. You deserve it.”

“Thanks, dad.”

“Oh, wait,” Noah uttered, rushing to the passenger seat of the car. Stiles quirked his head, following his dad slowly. If his blush before wasn’t bright enough, it sure was now. Noah turned back to Stiles with a box in his hand, the familiar XL label making the boy grimace to himself. “Just to be safe out there, Stiles. I don’t want grandkids right now and-”

“Alright dad! I get it!” Stiles hollered, swiping the box of condoms from his dad’s hand and stuffing it in his backpack. His face was beet red, feeling the piercing gaze of other students on his back. “I’ll be going now! I will text you when we get there so you know that we are safe.”

Stiles rushed away without another word, placing his luggage with the others underneath the bus. His footsteps were quick, the man stumbling up the steps into the bus. Honey eyes found your form quickly, your hand waving wildly at him. His pink lips curled upright, rushing to the seat you saved him beside the window. Scott and Kira were already sat behind you, hands intertwined between them. Malia and Lydia were across the aisle, Malia sleeping already while Lydia was reading a book.

Stiles slid into his seat just as Finstock was climbing into the bus, the doors closing at the wheels rolling. The man slumped into his seat with a heavy sigh, his backpack placed between his feet. You leaned forward to glance at his face, giving him a knowing smile. “So, what did you dad say? I heard you yell about something.”

Stiles’ face flushed, the thought of the condoms in his bag and you - his crush - next to him making his heart race. His thoughts wandered for a second, the image of you in bed with him, the condom package broken into before he rolled the rubber down his shaft. Your legs were spread wide while he prepared himself to slide into you, hearing you moan his name loudly-

“Stiles!” you called, waving your hand in front of his face. The man quickly shook his head, cheeks red. “You cool?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he uttered, leaning back in his seat. “I’m cool. Totally cool…”

This is going to be a long weekend, he thought to himself, staring out the window at the passing trees. The blur of green faded into darkness as his eyes drooped, head lulling to the side without warning.

“Stiles, can you stop drooling on my shoulder now, so we can get off the bus?”

Stiles’ nose twitched before sweet, light honey eyes fluttered open, your face blurred from drowsiness. His lips parted with a monstrous yawn, his hand coming up to wipe the trail of drool that was dried to his chin. His eyes continued to blink to focus his vision on the sight of vast white through the window outside, the people he grew up with and went to school with for his entire life running around with cheerful smiles. The trees, despite their green nature, were covered in the pristine white glow, adding to the natural beauty he wasn’t used to. The sun above reflected off the ground, making everything glisten before him.

“Wow. We’re here,” he murmured, turning back to you. His face reddened when he realized that the bus was empty besides you and him. Worse yet, there was a wet spot on your red Beacon Hills lacrosse hoodie that you stole from Stiles’ closet once, never returning the warm material. It was the evidence of his sleep - the evidence that he had, once again, fallen asleep on your shoulder and shamefully drooled on you. “Shit. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m used to it,” you giggled, standing from the seat. Your arms extended above your head with a stretch, the bottom of your hoodie and shirt riding up to show a small portion of skin. The sight alone made Stiles’ face heat up, turning away as best he could; though, ultimately, he failed. He continued to stare, admiring the pleased look you had from the satisfying pop of stiff limbs, the way your chest protruded, becoming more evident through his hoodie, and the curvature of your backside in the tight jeans that hugged your form perfectly.

He had it bad.

“Well, let’s go sleepyhead. The rest of the pack went on ahead while I attempted to wake you up for the last ten minutes.”

“Sorry,” Stiles laughed, following you from the bus. A cold shiver ran up his spine from the chill of the weather, but he marveled at the mountain and the resort that you were staying on. The ski slopes were packed with people, the ski lift running with dozens of people headed up for a round of fun. The string of lodges and cabins contrasted the slopes, roofs covered in the same fluffy snow that he saw in every direction. He grinned at the sight of hot tubs, steam billowing from the hot water through the cold air, cheeks tinging a light shade of pink at the thought of what could happen with that. His heart was racing with excitement and thrill, swallowing the lump in his throat of hopes of something happening that would change his life.

Glancing around for his friends - his pack - he turned to you for answers. “Where is everyone?”

Before you could respond, a snowball was flung through the air, hitting Stiles in the back of the head. Said male flailed around obnoxiously, falling face first into the snow under him. A loud snicker floated through the air, your hand covering your mouth to shield your own laugh. Stiles’ groans were muted, his mouth full of snow. Scott was tossing another snowball in his hands, eyes flickering a crimson red that screamed werewolf-y mischief.

“That’s just rude, Scotty,” Stiles choked, flopping onto his back and sitting up in the snow.

“Well, you’re the one that kept us waiting!” Scott teased, extending a hand to help his friend up. “We’ve been waiting for you guys to join us. Finstock is getting the rooms situated right now, but they aren’t wanting us to head up the slopes until tomorrow. He said we could either explore the main lodge area since that’s where the food is and they have some games like pool or air hockey. Or, we can stay outside and play in the snow! So, we decided to stay outside and play around with each other.”

“That sounded dirty,” you laughed. Scott rolled his eyes while Stiles laughed, having to catch himself on the side of the bus in his fit of chuckles. “I think it was a great decision, Scott.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, taking your hand to pull you away. “Let’s go meet up with everyone!”

Scott gave Stiles a knowing look from behind as he watched your forms retreat away, his ears listening to the rapid heartbeat in Stiles’ chest. His grin grew, planning to talk to his girlfriend later about the matter at hand.

Your arms were thrown around the girls when you spotted them, breaking away from Stiles’ handhold to run towards them. They all laughed happily, jumping around in the snow. Boots crunches against the white ground, Stiles left to roll his eyes at your enthusiasm.

“I’m so glad we are all here, guys,” you mentioned aloud, breaking from the hug to look around at everyone. Scott stopped next to Stiles, all eyes beginning to bore into your form. “It really means a lot to me that everyone could be here. I know we’ve lost people and some of us aren’t around, but they are here with us in spirit. We’ve come a long way since Scott besides to become this badass werewolf and all.”

Scott rolled his eyes, laughing lightly. “Thanks.”

“You know I love you, Scotty,” you joked. “But, really guys. This is the last time we have together. And we’ve been through a lot to get here. After everything with Theo a few months ago, I’m just beyond grateful that we could all be here now to enjoy these days together. I want us to make every second count. This is a great chance to make memories and do some pack bonding. And who knows, maybe these memories will be the kind we will never forget. This is a once in a lifetime chance and I don’t want us to regret not doing something while we are here.”

Stiles glanced at his feet, taking in your words. In a way, they reminded him of what his dad told him. The urge to make the move, to finally put it out there how he felt, was looming strongly over him. This would be the last chance to do something like this. This was the last trip of high school. This was the last time that everyone would be together. But more important, this could be the last chance he had to confess in a romantic way before you would leave for college. If he didn’t do something, he could lose the chance forever.

Was he willing to take the chance to make a move, to not regret that he didn’t use this time to do something? He would have to think about it heavily. He didn’t want to ruin what he had, but he also wanted to make this time count no matter what.

“Well, what are we waiting for then?” Malia asked, picking up a handful of snow. Her eyes glowed a familiar cobalt blue, an evil grin growing on her face. “Who’s up for a snowball fight?”

“How do you even know about snowball fights?” Lydia pondered.

“Kira told me about it,” she hummed. “All I know is I get to throw this at people and I’m down for that.”

“Oh, Malia,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Well, we can do three on three.”

“As long as it’s not all of the supernaturals on one team against us,” Stiles joked, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not in the mood to get my ass completely kicked because someone has supernatural abilities they can use against us. I’ve had it happen before while practicing lacrosse. I’m look at you, McCall.” Stiles turned to glower at his best friend who maintained an innocent face.

“Fine. How about Scott, Kira and Stiles against me, Lydia and Malia? Does that sound fair?” you offered.

“Why do Scott and Kira get to be on the same team?” Stiles whined. His lips sealed before continuing his thought, the pleading sense of wanting to be on your team on the tip of his tongue. He wasn’t sure if he could throw a snowball at you reasonably.

“Because Scott and Kira won’t aim at each other if they are on separate teams.”

“Fair enough,” Stiles muttered. “Sounds good to me.” Everyone else was in agreement, splitting off to set up bundles of snow to act as forts.

Before Stiles could join the couple, you stopped him, holding out a pair of gloves. “Don’t forget your gloves, doofus. We don’t want you to get sick.” His lips remained pursed, watching you slide the gloves on his veiny hands, his skin softer than you remembered. Even with the multitude of calluses on his palm, his hands were soft, fingers tracing the veins subtly.

“Thanks,” he mumbled with a smile, your cheeks lighting up to match his. Your eyes locked, your gaze lost in his deep brown eyes. You were melting inside from the delicious honey color. He had to clear his throat to break the stare down you were having. “I-I should go join Scott and Kira.”

“Yeah. You do that,” you told him. Stiles backed away, tripping over his feet before running away, ducking behind a massive pile of snow. His quiff popped out from the top, making you laugh. He peered over to see your still form, nervously ducking away, rubbing a hand to his hair anxiously.

The snowball fight began not too long after. You had joined Lydia and Malia behind a small snow fort, making a plan of attack that was sure to win. You had Lydia after all she was the perfect strategist in this situation. You broke away from each other, hiding behind your manmade forts while balls of snow began to fly through the air. Loud bouts of laughter floated through the air, snow colliding with body parts in soft thumps for the most part. Malia tended to throw too hard, but the normally ended up hitting Scott in the face in those occurrences.

While hiding behind a fort to the side, a pile of snowballs ready for attack, you missed Stiles sneaking up on your side with a giant snowball in his hand. Your eyes were focused forward until your ears perked up, the sound of his footfalls growing louder. In a quick swoop, you grabbed a snowball from your pile, pelting at the man. Stiles attempted to dodge it, succeeding in avoiding the hit but dropping his own snowball from his tangled feet. A loud yelp hit your ears before feeling his weight sink down onto you, his body pressing against yours completely.

You closed your eyes upon impact, groaning from the slight ache you experienced from the collision. Your back rested against the snowy ground, Stiles’ arms on either side of you. Flecks of snow were laced in your hair, the beanie you had been wearing having fallen off when your bodies hit the ground, and on your face. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, meeting the embarrassed stare of Stiles.

It took a moment to realize how close you were together. Your legs ended up twisted together, chests pressed together - rising and falling in sync. Puffs of air were exposed through parted lips, his hot breath fanning over your face. His breath was minty and mixed with the natural strawberry and mint scent he exuded. Your faces were close enough that yours noses brushed together, lips nearly touching. Your heart was pounding to your chest, face flushed a beet red.

At this distance, you could clearly count the moles on his cheeks. You could admire the bright red of his lips. You could marvel at the bright color of his eyes. Your fingers itched to feel his soft locks. It was a rare chance to admire him, recognizing just how handsome he was. But this was one of the few times that you felt something inside you churn, your stomach knotted with unknown emotions.

The feeling tightened, growing more prevalent when he carefully lifted a hand, brushing his glove covered fingers through your hair and along your cheeks. “You had some snow…” he murmured, words falling off before he could finish a complete thought. His honey eyes quivered with an unreadable emotion, his hot breath fanning over your lips. One small move and your lips would connect with his…

Stiles yelped and fell to the side when a snowball connected to the side of his head, his body sinking into the soft flakes. Sitting up flustered, face bright red and hot and bits of white falling from your locks onto your lap, you turned to see Malia cheering happily, fist pumping the air. “Bullseye!”

“I’ve been hit,” Stiles called desperately, flailing his arms through the snow to make a snow angel. “I am off to heaven. See? I’m a snow angel now.”

He sent you a cheesy smirk, finding his face full of snow after a brief encounter with your unamused expression. You stood from the snow quickly, your footsteps crunching away from him. And with each step, you couldn’t explain why your heart wouldn’t stop pounding against your chest. Placing a hand over your heart, you pondered on what happened, Stiles’ face flashing on repeat through your mind.

What is going on?

“Here are your keys!” Finstock called as everyone gathered after dinner, people rummaging through the piles of suitcases to find their belongings. “And I will have no indecent acts while we are here! Keep your grubby little hands to yourself! And yes, that pertains to you too, Greenburg! Even though no one will want to put their hands on you.”

You slid through the group to grab the keys for the room you were sharing with Kira. You returned to the group grinning, the two keys dangling from your finger. “Ready to go? I could use a nice hot shower after all that snow earlier.”

“Yeah, about that,” she murmured, wrapping a dainty hand around your wrist. The kitsune dragged you away quickly, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Of course. What’s up?”

“Well, I was hoping you would switch with Scott for the weekend.”

You blinked at the thunder kitsune, coking your head in confusion. “Eh?”

“Well, this is our last trip and I was hoping to have some…” Her face brightened, her eyes avoiding yours. Strands of her dark hair covered her face to hide the blush she had forming. “Some quality time together. I talked it over with Scott earlier and he was going to talk to Stiles, but we thought that you two could room together so me and Scott can be together. What do you think?”

Your mouth went dry, palms growing sweaty. Nervously, you wiped them on your jeans, rubbing your lips together. “But Finstock-”

“Doesn’t have to know!” Kira quickly cut in. “Please, Y/N. It would mean so much to me. And you and Stiles are great friends anyway! So, there won’t be any awkwardness.”

Right.

You let out a heavy sigh, handing her the key to the room. “Fine. Give Scott the key and he can give it to Stiles. You owe me big time, Yukimura.”

Kira squealed, wrapping her arms around your neck before rushing towards her boyfriend who was still engaged in a conversation with his best friend. Both boys turned to look at the kitsune, yet Stiles’ eyes managed to lock with yours across the main lobby of the lodge. Your stomach churned at the awkward, lopsided smile he sent your way, taking the key from Kira.

The walk up to the rooms with the pack was oddly silent, the tension palpable between you and Stiles. It was the first time you had ever felt this sort of weight on you, and you couldn’t explain why it started. Since arriving in the mountains, it felt like things were different, and you were struggling to understand what it was and why it was happening. You couldn’t breathe looking at him.

Stiles quickly opened the door to your room, both of you rushing inside before Finstock could place his finger on the switch. Stiles clicked on the light in the room, both of you aweing at the interior. The two queen beds had red duvets neatly made with tons of fluffy while pillows at the head. The closet was large enough for both suitcases. The bathroom had a large glass shower with a rain shower that would coat your boat from above. The view showed the slopes, the moon glowing off the snow along the mountainside, and the steam from the hot tubs that resided just below your room.

“This is nice,” Stiles chuckled, flopping onto one of the beds. “I could get used to this.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, pushing aside any awkwardness. Your body crashed next to his on his bed, kicking off your boots until they thumped to the plush carpet. A brief silence filled the air between you, both of you turning to stare at each other. The second your eyes met, you could feel your cheeks heating up, subtly admiring his handsome features. Licking your lips, you broke the silence. “So, how much you want to bet Scott and Kira are gonna bang all weekend?”

“Oh, no doubt,” Stiles laughed, shaking his head but never breaking his eye contact with you. Without warning his hand rose to brush through your hair, his lips curling into a cute smile. “I’m glad we came, Y/N.”

“Yeah…” you hummed quietly. “I should go shower.”

“In a bit,” Stiles mused, rolling onto his side and wrapping an arm around your waist. Your body burned from the contact with his skin, but you didn’t fight the feeling of butterflies that fluttered inside. Stiles’ face burrowed into your shoulder, his hug on your body tightening. “Let’s just stay like this for a minute.”

You didn’t say anything, letting your eyes drift closed. Your nose nestled into his soft chocolate quiff, inhaling the waterfall mist he used as a shampoo. You relaxed in his arms, drifting off to sleep with three tiny words that lingered in your dreams, your heart aching for more.

You’re so beautiful…

You awoke in the middle of the night still locked in the same position. Your eyes widened, slowly unwinding from his embrace as Stiles slept soundly. You slipped into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. With your back to the door, you slumped to the ground, taking heavy breaths.

“What are you doing to me, Stiles? Why are you making me feel like this?” you asked yourself under your breath. “Am I really developing a crush on you?”

“Who’s ready to ski?!” Scott called to everyone as you gathered your gear from the rental desk. The skis were tucked under your arm, your hands adjusting the beanie on your head. Small puffs of air left your lips as you followed the pack outside to the lifts.

“You’re one to talk, McCall,” you laughed, poking him with the ski. “You’re snowboarding!”

“Same difference!”

“No, Scotty. It’s not,” Stiles chuckled.

“Go to hell.” Scott rolled his eyes, shoving Stiles in the shoulder. Inadvertently, Stiles crashed into your side, making you halt and stare at the ground. Stiles, too, stilled, glancing back at you. Since you woke up, things felt off between you. Stiles was sad to find you curled up in your own bed instead of in his arms. For you, you were unsure of these feelings that were growing inside you, even more unsure of how to address them. Or, even if you should.

Stiles could tell something was different with you, but he tried to lighten the mood, wrapping his arm around you anyway. He felt you tense briefly, letting out a deep breath. “I’m sorry for whatever I did,” he whispered.

“What?” you questioned quickly, glancing up at him. “You didn’t-”

“I always do something. You can’t even argue that fact,” he chuckled. “I don’t want things to be awkward. I want us to have fun today!”

“Things aren’t awkward! I’m not awkward,” you denied quickly. “I-I’m just nervous…”

“Nervous?” Stiles inquired. He blinked in wonder, glancing between you and the slope that your eyes turned to. “About skiing?”

“Well, yeah,” you covered, pushing the weird vibe between you and the man you were rapidly developing feelings for over the course of the trip deep inside your pocket for later. “I’ve never really been skiing before…”

“Seriously?” he asked, honey eyes widening. “But, we went all the time when we were little before my mom died.”

“Correction. You and Scott always went. I always ended up sick or stuck to sledding. I never tried skiing.”

“Well, shit,” he huffed, pursing his lips. You watched him closely, eying the side of his face. A smile formed on your face from his silly appearance, the silly knit monkey hat on his head covering most of his hair, some strands of chocolate poking out. The braided cords down the front dangled against his speckled cheeks, swaying in the chilly breeze that blew by. His coat was thick and a matching monkey scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck, tucked into the front of the coat to keep out of the way. His gloved hand reached up to ruffle his hair, halting when it came in contact with the hat he wore, opting to toy with the free bunches that clung to his forehead. Finally, his head turned back towards you with a smile ebbed upon it, his teeth glistening in the sunlight - pearly white and as pure as the snow you stood in. “Well, one of us will just have to teach you!”

“No, no, no. It’s fine, Stiles. Maybe this is just a bad idea,” you told him. “I don’t want to waste anyone’s time by trying to help me ski. I want you guys to have fun, so maybe I should just stay here.”

“Y/N, we will have fun if you are there with us. It’s not a waste of our time to help you.”

“Stiles, I don’t know-”

“Just come on! I will let the others know what is going on and once we get up the mountain, we can get you on those skis with someone to help you learn!” he told you, beginning to run forward. He turned on his heel, taking steps backward before calling to you again. “Come on! Get on the ski lift!”

“Stiles, I don’t know,” you pouted.

“Don’t argue with me now, Y/N,” he laughed. “I want to help you. I don’t like seeing you sad. You’re too beautiful to be sad. You look more radiant when you smile and have fun with the rest of us.”

He took off, leaving your face red and burning. You stood still, covering your face with your hands. “God dammit, Stiles Stilinski. What are you doing to me?”

“Y/N!”

“I’m coming! Keep your panties on!”

Your nerves were sinking in as you sat on the ski lift with Stiles, the spazz bouncing in the seat. You had to slap his arm to keep him from moving too much, the feeling of dread resting as a lump in your gut at the thought of the lift breaking. It was swaying too much as it is. Your heart hammering against your chest added to the knot that swirled inside you when he carefully took your hand in his, his gloved thumb smoothing across the top of your hand in an attempt to give you comfort. Your face buried in your scarf to hide the blush on your face, darting your eyes to the side of his face to admire him and keep from staring at the large drop below you.

Getting off the lift was easy enough but strapping on the skis was the worst. Your butt was cold while sitting in snow at the top of the mountain. Your hands shook as the skis were strapped to your feet. Your heart dropped at the slop before you, the height of the mountain making you queasy. Everyone was bustling around with excite, Scott already making his way down the mountain on his snowboard with loud hoots and hollers. Malia and Kira weren’t far behind, leaving you to wonder how you were going to descend the snow banks without eating snow or breaking a limb.

You were already mentally preparing yourself for an injury.

Your eyes were glued to the snow when two gloved hands found their way into your sight. Lifting your eyes, you were met with the sparkling honey eyes that glowed from the winter sun overhead and a lopsided smile that matched the funky monkey hat he wore. You couldn’t help but giggle and smile, taking his hands to stand from your spot, knees concaving in to keep from sliding to your doom.

“Why are you laughing?” he pouted at you. You laughed more, shaking your head.

“I can’t believe you are wearing that hat,” you laughed. Stiles cast his eyes upwards as if he could the grey, knit material that covered his hair. One hand released yours, patting his head and feeling the red yarn ball on the top, the strings floating in all directions with the wind. You bit your lip to hold in your laugh, burrowing into your scarf to avoid his gaze - the gaze that made you hot. “That’s the gag gift I got you last Christmas.”

“You call it a gag. I call it rad.”

“That was horrible,” you teased. Stiles rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “So, what’s the plan? I thought someone was going to help me since you guys dragged me up here against my will-”

“You came willingly.”

“-and you said that you would talk to Scott about helping me learn. But big, bad alpha werewolf Scott Dickhead McCall went flying down the mountain without warning. Malia and Kira weren’t far behind him.”

“Well, um,” Stiles began, his own face burrowing in his scarf to hide his red-hot blush. The feeling of your eyes burning into his skull made him sweat, the young man clearing his throat a few times. His Adam’s Apple stealthily bobbed with each swallow he did to moisten his throat. His palms were sweaty and for once, he wasn’t more glad to be wearing gloves. Otherwise, you would pick up on his nervousness. Clearing his throat one last time, extra loudly, his eyes lifted to meet yours. “The others decided I would help.”

“What, did you draw the shortest straw?”

Stiles frowned, wanting to retort with the fact that he wanted to nominate himself at first even if he wasn’t the best at skiing himself. He was mixed since he wanted you to have fun and he was most likely to fall on his face, yet he wanted to spend time with you. When the others suggested he should do it, he knew he wouldn’t have to push for either side. He knew arguing wouldn’t get him out of the task because once Scott named Stiles your ski instructor for the day, the others would back him. Part of him was happy that the others agreed on him, but the other half knew he was being set up to be close to his crush.

Scott’s evil glint gave it away.

“I’m offended,” Stiles huffed jokingly to cover up his slight disappointment. “Naw, the others just thought I would be the best to help you. Us humans have to stick together in the pack, you know!”

“Everyone thought that you, Stiles Stilinski, the clumsiest one amongst us, was right to teach me how to not fall face first into the snow or break my leg while skiing down a very tall mountain?” You laughed. Stiles nodded with a large smile. “That makes no sense, Sti.”

“Exactly. It’s all about misdirection.” His hands flew wildly around him cutely.

“You confuse me, Stilinski,” you huffed, trying to straighten your body. Two hands found your waist when you wobbled on the skis, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you didn’t fall. “You know, for someone as clumsy as you, you’re surprisingly very steady on those skis.”

Stiles smiled down at you, chuckling deeply. The sound of his husky voice escaping from deep inside his throat made you quiver in his hold. “Don’t let me fool you. This is all a facade. My legs are shaking so bad and I’m surprising myself that I’m even standing up straight right now. I’m pretty sure if I try to back away and ski own this mountain right now, I will end up with snow in places that it doesn’t belong.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help,” you teased. Stiles flushed a bright pink, your cheeks mirroring his immediately after. His fingers seemed to curl into your sides tighter, making your body burn. “So, how about teaching me to ski?”

“Right,” he laughed.

The second he attempted to back away from you, your feet, strapped to the skis, slid under your weight, the support you had before no long present. A squeak left your lips, bracing yourself to fall forward into the snow as your feet slid out from under you. Luckily, the two hands of Stiles found your waist once more, the cold touch of his gloves hitting your skin when your jacket rode up. Your face hit Stiles’ broad chest, your savior stumbling and sliding back in the snow. The skis didn’t stop you from falling sending you both to the ground - you on your knees and Stiles on his ass. You were resting between his legs, pressed close to his body.

His deep groan rang in your ears, your hands gripping at his jacket. Your eyes squeezed shut, nose flaring before even attempting to lift your face to look at him. A wave of heat rained over you when you realized how close you were once again, a repeat of the prior day playing in your mind. Your noses brushed together, his warm, minty breath fanned over your face, his hands held your sides. A shiver ran up your spine - and not from the snow that made your jeans wet.

“S-sorry,” you uttered lowly.

Stiles didn’t respond. He seemed to be daydreaming, his eyes glued to your face. His lips pursed together and parted slightly, his tongue darting out to wet them. Golden orbs flickered between your eyes and your red lips, his fingers gripping your sides harder every time they met your awkward smile. Under your palm, you could feel his rapidly pounding heart slamming into his rib cage at an uneven pace.

His hand rose from the ground where he was keeping himself upright. You thought you had a loose strand of hair he was going to push back, but nothing was free from the beanie you had on. The frozen tips of his fingers grazed the side of your cheek, pulling you closer to him. Each inch his fingers slid across, your body shook more, wishing it was his soft skin that was brushing against your skin. Your stomach was churning with a range of emotions, hormones running on high. Your body was burning from the unexplainable feelings and your mind was screaming at you to do something - anything - to release the pent-up emotion.

He was inching forward, lips parting. His low voice escaped, your ears barely recognizing his words. “Why must you do this to me?” he murmured to himself, not expecting you to hear him at all. “You drive me crazy.”

“Stiles,” you mumbled, meeting his eye. He leaned closer to you, you leaned closer to him. You didn’t know what he was doing, but your mind kept repeating the same thing: kiss him. You were desperate to feel his pink, cupid shaped lips on yours, wanting to feel how soft they were. You had dreamt about the feeling all night, ever since these weird feelings started. You kept picturing that his lips were as soft as his skin and as warm as his heart, and you wanted to find out for sure.

“Y/N,” he started. His lips were nearly upon yours. They were so close that all you would have to do is lean forward. You hesitated, not knowing if he would want to kiss you back - and you wanted him to make the first move. A puff of hot hair hit your lips as he exhaled, slightly panting. “I-”

“COWABUNGA!”

A mound of snow hit the side of your head, your body - and Stiles’ - falling into the snow. You huffed out a growl, sitting up in the snow. Stiles coughed, wiggling uncomfortably where he sat. In the time you were trying to keep your balance with Stiles, not even beginning your lesson, Scott had managed to make his way down the mountain, onto the ski lift, and back up to the spot you were at now. When he slid to a stop, the snow went flying straight onto your forms, ruining the moment you were sharing.

“Seriously Scott?” you glowered, bundling the snow in your hands and chucking it at him. Scott laughed, his werewolf instincts kicking in to swipe the snowball away before it nailed him. “You’re such an ass!”

“You guys are slow! What are you still doing up here?” Scott asked. Your glare on the wolf narrowed, your rage seething out.

“Stiles is trying to teach me to ski! Excuse me for not being a skilled wolf like you. I went to move and fell, taking Stiles down with me. Then you just had to come around and splatter us with snow.”

Scott grinned. “Well, excuse me. Sorry that you guys are slow and falling over each other,” he joked. “Though, I’m surprised you fell first. I figured it would have been Stiles.”

Stiles glared at his friend, the underlying teasing tone about his best friend’s crush too obvious. “You’re an ass.”

“You guys love me.”

“I don’t know. We fell over, you covered us with snow and now I have snow down my pants. I didn’t need a cold dick and ass, McCall,” Stiles grumbled. “I am questioning this friendship.”

Stiles stood carefully, almost falling on his face again before helping you up. He helped to brush the snow off your body, fixing your beanie on your head and the scarf around your neck. Returning the favor, you swiped at the wads of snow that clung to him, Stiles chuckling when you played with the monkey hat more than necessary. Scott watched the entire time, his evil grin growing.

“Well, I’m going to have some more fun. Try not to fall for each other even more than you already have,” Scott mused, eying your close stature.

Stiles glared at his friend. “Scott!” he called as the werewolf took off down the slope. Stiles broke from your hold, preparing to go after his friend, stumbling in the snow to start. He left you unsteady, unsure what to do to get down the mountain. You were sliding through the snow after Stiles, your feet and skis turning inwards. The handles were still resting in the snow, unable to be used to help you stop. You were beginning to rocket towards Stiles’ back.

“Stiles!”

He turned to look at you when he heard you call his name, your body hitting his. You were sent tumbling into the snow again, legs tangled with each other. His mouth was full of snow and your forehead hit the back of his head. Every inch of your body was pressed against his, your face flaring up. Scott was laughing as he disappeared down the slope, leaving you with the man you were developing a crush on.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried, rolling off of him into the snow. Stiles pushed himself up on his hands, coughing from the snow he had swallowed from the forceful impact. You were lying next to him, staring at the side of his face. Slowly, he looked over at you, making your cheeks heat up. He still felt so close, but your nerves were wracked from the ruined moment. You weren’t sure where you stood and if you should try to resume what was once started.

“It’s fine,” he said, standing from the snow once more. His gloved hand extended towards you, ready to help you up. His lips curled upwards into a smile, your own smile impossible to keep down. Even with the anxiety he gave you, the dawning feelings that seemed to be surfacing from inside you, you loved this moment. Your hand slid into his, fitting perfectly in his larger grasp. He lifted you to your feet, hand on your waist so you didn’t fall again.

A silence filled the air between you until you cleared your throat, the staring contest that started when you were placed to your feet ending. You had been focused on the golden glint in his eye, marveling his handsome features. Your cheeks were hot when you blinked, looking away from him. “S-so, um,” you choked out. “How about that ski lesson?”

“Y-yeah,” he breathed shakily, shaking off the nerves that were creeping in. “R-right. Skiing. Now. Let’s teach you without me dying.”

You giggled, Stiles smiling at the sound. “That’s not possible.”

“A guy can hope,” he quipped, shuffling away to grab the poles. “So, let’s get you skiing.”

“Yeah.”

When did I start feeling this way for you, Stiles?

The steam escaped the bathroom as you shuffled into the room. The sun had long set, dinner was done and gone, and it was technically quiet time. Which ultimately meant that it was time for people to gather in their rooms to hang out, some hanging out in the lobby playing pool and foosball. You had agreed to meet the girls in Lydia and Malia’s room to hang out. Malia had brought an entire suitcase of snacks, so you were planning to have a girl’s gossip night that was long overdue. After dinner, you rushed back to your room to shower and change before spending hours with the girls.

You froze when you spied Stiles sitting on his bed, surprised he was still around. “Hey,” you spoke lowly, catching his attention. “What are you doing here? I figured you’d be hanging out with Scott or something.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. His voice shook slightly, your head cocking to the side. You could feel his anxiousness seeping out of him. “I mean no. I wasn’t planning to hang out with him tonight. He said he was going to crash early because he didn’t sleep much last night.”

“That’s way too much information from Scott.”

“That’s what I said,” Stiles chuckled for a second before losing his smile. “I was thinking about maybe hitting the hot tub for a while. It’s not something we get to do very often and I thought it’d be a nice way to relax. I was thinking, um…” he paused, rubbing his lips together. “I was thinking maybe you’d like to come with? Just as a way to get out of the room, relax in some hot water. It’s in an indoor garden area too so it’s a nice setting. I scoped it out earlier.”

“Well, I would love to but,” you told him, your heart dropping when he frowned sadly. “I already made plans with the girls.”

“O-Oh. Yeah. That’s fine. I completely understand. Well, um, if you get bored of girl talk, you’re free to join me I guess. I’d love it if you did. I’ll wait for you if you want.”

“Stiles-”

“It’s fine. I swear,” he cut you off, grabbing his towel. You noticed that he was wearing his swim trunks and a hoodie, ready to head out. “Go and have fun. I will see you later.”

He rushed for the door before you could say anything more, the door slamming shut behind him. You let out a sigh, dropping your towel on the bed. You felt horrible for bailing on him, not wanting him to be alone, but you had made plans. But his offer replayed over and over, making the butterflies rampage inside you. The thought of Stiles in a hot tub - you were flustered.

Shaking off the thought, you brushed out your hair quickly, grabbed your room key and ran out of the room, straight to Malia and Lydia’s room. The girls were waiting for you, letting you get settled before the talking started. The conversations ranged from school, home life, relationships. You name it. For the most part, you stayed silent, listening to the girls’ rant and rave with each other while Lydia did their nails. You were snacking on potato chips, letting your mind wander back to the man that had been on your mind since your stepped foot on the mountain.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Lydia called, snapping her freshly painted nail in your face. You blinked, turning to look at her.

“What?”

“You’re staring off into space,” she said.

“And you’ve been quiet this entire time,” Kira added.

“And you reek,” Malia huffed. The others glanced at her in confusion. “What? She smells like anxiety. And something else that I only ever smell from Stiles when he’s around her. I don’t know what it is.”

“I’m fine guys. Sorry to be spacing on you.”

“You aren’t getting away from this,” Lydia mused. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“Ah. So, you’re thinking about him.”

“Him?” you asked.

“Stiles,” all three girls said in unison. Your face lit up, beet red to the max.

“W-what? No, I’m not!”

“Oh girl. You’re lying to yourself badly,” Lydia hummed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you told them. “I’m not thinking about him. Stiles is just my friend. Nothing else is going on between us.”

“Do you really not see it?” Kira asked. You blinked at her, the girl shaking her head. “The way he looks at you, as if you are his whole world? The way he smiles when you are around? The way he talks about you like you are an angel?”

“The way you smile when he makes you laugh? The way your eyes light up when he is mentioned?” Lydia continued.

“The erection he gets by staring at you?” Malia blatantly said. You all looked at her, seeing her shrug. “What? Am I wrong?”

“Not the point,” Lydia said, rolling her eyes. “The point is that He likes you, Y/N. He always has. He has liked you for so long.”

“No. No, no, no. He has a crush on you, Lyds. Not me. He told me himself.”

“Do you really think he would tell you to your face that he likes you?” Kira pointed out. Your eyes fell to your lap, avoiding their looks.

“He’s had a crush on you for like… forever,” Lydia said. “And you like him back.”

“Do I?” you asked, fiddling with your fingers. “I don’t get it though. How did I start crushing on him all of a sudden? I don’t understand how these feelings hit me so hard, so fast.”

“You’ve always liked him,” Malia said. You turned to look at the coyote, waiting for her to continue. “I may not be the best when it comes to these human relationships, but even I can see that you have always liked him and he has always liked you. When we dated, he always talked about you. He would say your name in his sleep. He would smell different when you were around. And you would always brighten up when he walked into the room. You would talk to him every day. He was the first person you would call when something happens. You would always start a conversation with something like ‘Well Stiles said this’.”

“Let me ask you this. Does he make you smile all the time? Do you think about him all the time? Do you crave being by his side, knowing that he is safe and happy? Do you want what is best for him?” Lydia asked.

You thought about him - about your entire relationship with him. He was the only person to always make you smile. He always was there for you. He was able to cheer you up when no one else could. You loved spending every second of the day with him. He made your heart flutter, making you feel special. You craved his happiness - he deserved the world. And you wanted to be the one to give it to him.

“I…” you started, hugging your knees. “Have I always liked him?”

“Yup,” Lydia said, popping the p for emphasis. “You probably buried the feelings because you didn’t want to ruin anything with him.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Y/N, you like Stiles. And until now, you have ignored those feelings. You are only beginning to see it now I think because Stiles stopped hiding his feelings back. He’s been very obvious this entire trip,” Lydia pointed out.

“I…” you began to say again before collapsing on Malia’s bed. “Fuck. How could this happen? How have I been so stupid? How could I overlook such an obvious crush?” your body began to thrash against the bed, whining loudly. “He means everything to me. He makes me smile, he makes me happy. He’s smart, handsome, funny, caring. He’s everything I could ever ask for. And I’ve ignored the funny feelings around him because he was my friend. He’s Stiles - my best friend.”

“Girl, you have it bad,” Kira laughed.

“Don’t point it out!” you bellowed, throwing a pillow at the girl’s head. She laughed, catching the pillow and hugging it to her chest. “Now that you say it out loud like this, it hurts to realize how much I like him. God, I’m pathetic. I can’t even pick up on my own feelings for a guy. No wonder I’ve only ever had one boyfriend.”

“Eric was hot though,” Malia hummed.

“He was a dick.”

“A hot dick.”

“Well, now that you actually admit that you do like him like we all knew, why are you here? You could be hanging out with him right now,” Lydia mused, glancing at her freshly painted nails.

“Well, I promised to hang out with you guys-”

“Then you were distracted with your thoughts.”

“-Because I was confused!” you squeaked, flushing a bright red. “I kept thinking about him. He’s been running through my mind since we got here. All of these things just kind of hit at once.”

“Back to the point,” Lydia pushed.

“I told him I couldn’t hang out because I was here with you guys. And he was going to hang out at the jacuzzi for a bit anyway.” The three girls around you stayed silent, leaving you to blink in confusion. “What?”

“You left him to hang out in the hot tub. Alone?” they asked.

“Well… yes?”

“Do you understand what you are saying?” Kira asked.

“...No?”

“You’re hopeless,” Lydia sighed. “That boy is hopelessly in love with you and probably thinking he hopelessly fell in love with a girl who will never return her feelings. He is out there waiting for you in that hot tub while you sit up here asking questions. He wanted to spend some time with you alone in a, need I say it like this, but a very hot way.”

“No. That’s not true. I’m sure there are others out there. Right?” you asked.

“I’m pretty sure everyone is inside. I heard Greenberg say something about drinks in the lobby on the other end of the building,” Malia bluntly said.

Pushing yourself into a sitting position, your eyes fell to your lap. Your mind went to the saddened face of Stiles before he bolted from the room, his offer for you to join him whenever on repeat. You recalled every second of your lives together, the caring, loving look he would cast upon you when he stared at you from across the room - or even next to you. The way he put you first, taking hits to protect you from the supernatural, made your heart race. Your ears rang with the sound of his uneven heartbeat when your arms would wrap around his waist, your head rest on his chest. His strong arms would wrap around your petite frame, his body make you seem small no matter what, giving you warmth.

But the familiar sadness you saw not even an hour ago in his golden eyes cast a shadow on all of those happy thoughts.

“Do you really think he’s waiting for me in the hot tub?” you spoke lowly, daring to glance at the girls. All three shared a look before speaking in unison.

“Hell yeah.”

Your lips pursed together, hands curling into tight fists. Resolution made your stomach churn, skin beginning to burn. Your eyes squeezed shut before you stood from the bed you once laid upon, rummaging through the room to find your flip flops. The girls didn’t seem to mind as they resumed a conversation, the only knowing expression being the sly smiles on their faces. You didn’t bother to grab anything more than your room key before making your way to the door.

“I’m sorry to leave so early guys. I just… I have some loose ends to tie up. I’ll see you girls in the morning for breakfast.”

The door slammed shut behind you with a loud bang. With your presence gone, the three girls shared a high five, bursting out laughing that their plans had finally succeeded.

“The ship is sailing finally. It’s only been too long in the making.”

The sky was dark and filled with stars, bright lights twinkling through the glass roof above your head. The patio door shut behind you quietly, your hand used to keep it from slamming and alerting someone of your arrival. A small chill ran up your spine, the winter air seeping through the glass windows the encased the garden, but it was warmer than you could have ever imagined. Flowers bloomed amongst the greenery, a shimmering blue light in the distance seeping through the leaves of the plants. Your feet moved slowly along the smooth gravel path, hands stuffed in your pockets.

There he sat - alone - in the bubbling hot warmer. Steam billowed in the chilled air, wrapping around his form to make him look mystical. The lights from within the hot tub make the water glow - giving his body a saint-like aura. He wasn’t aware of you standing there staring at him, his eyes staring at the water while his hand threaded through it, waves rippling outwards from the strokes of his long fingers. He looks like a god. He looked handsomely beautiful. He looked amazing. And your heart wouldn’t stop slamming into your chest with nerves, anxiety, unexplained emotion and unreleased, rampaging hormones for the man that you had always liked without realizing it.

His head finally rose when you stepped closer into his line of sight, your voice picking up. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he murmured unsurely. A dead air formed, his tongue passing over his lips in thought. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with the girls.”

“Well, what are you doing here alone?” you asked. He gave no response, making you sigh. “Stiles, don’t ignore me please.”

“I’m not,” he abruptly denied.

“That’s why you are avoiding looking at me?” you pushed. He stayed silent, making you shake your head. You made your way around the hot tub to the steps, feet slipping from your flip flops before taking tentative steps up to the water. The water was warm when you dipped them into the water, bubbles tickling the bottoms as they popped o the surface. Your arms wrapped around yourself, hugging your body tighter to keep arm from the shivers that ran through you. “Do I have to apologize?”

“Why would you apologize for something you didn’t so?” he asked, eyes flickering up to you.

“Because it is my fault,” you told him.

Stiles chuckled, shaking his head. His arms, dripping with water, leaned back against the hot tub, his body sinking a bit into the warmth. His eyes were glued to you at this point, waiting for you to continue. “Pray tell, Y/N. What is your fault?”

You kicked your feet through the water, debating on telling him. But your mouth parted and your words flowed before you could stop them. “Because I didn’t realize how you felt until now.”

His arms dropped into the water, his brows raised in shock and his jaw slack. “W-wha-”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you had a crush on me?” you asked. His eyes dropped to the water. “Stiles.”

“What was I supposed to say?” he asked quietly. “I didn’t want to ruin it. I didn’t want to ruin us.”

“It wouldn’t have ruined us.”

Stiles chuckled, looking up at you. “You say that now. But what would you have said if I came out and said that that I like you, Y/N? What does it mean to you when I say that I like you.”

You paused, giving a cheeky smile. “That I am obviously the most awesome girl in your life and you are glad to have me as your friend?”

Stiles scoffed playfully, splashing water at you before leaning back again. “You’re impossible.”

“I know I am,” you told him. ‘That’s why I never realized how I felt back.”

This caused Stiles’ brow to knit together, his forehead crunching together with a mound of wrinkles that looked adorable on his. He looked like a lost puppy, confused why you wouldn’t give him a treat. “I’m confused,” he admitted under his breath.

Rolling your eyes, you stood from your seat on the edge of the hot tub. Stiles’ honey eyes followed you, growing wider by the second when you stripped the hoodie you had worn over your head. His breathing faltered, caught in his chest at your appearance. The camisole you wore was sheer, almost see through under his piercing gaze. It was also his favorite color - a lovely shade of blue that matched your skin. Your shorts hugged your thighs, leaving your silky legs bare for him to admire. You carefully folded the hoodie, placing it away from the water so it wouldn’t get wet.

He was shocked when you stepped further into the water, submerged to the waist by the heat. The camisole began to stick to your skin, showing patches of skin through the material where the water hit it. But you didn’t stop there. His throat clogged, his Adam’s Apple bobbing, when your legs perched on either side of him, your body straddling his waist. He tried to will himself to stay calm, but the chances that he was growing harder under the weight of your pelvis to his was one hundred percent. Your eyes had a certain gaze that he hadn’t seen before, confidence and arousal swirling in your irises. Dainty hands were placed to his broad shoulders, feeling the tense muscles under the tips of your fingers while holding yourself upright. His arms stayed on the edge of the hot tub, afraid to move.

“What are you doing?” he croaked lowly, words near impossible to hear.

“What I should have done a long time ago,” you told him. “I’m sorry that I never realized before, Sti. I overlooked it until now and I don’t know how I did it. It was so obvious and I wish you had said something before because it wouldn’t have changed who we are It would have made us stronger. Nothing can break us apart and I want to give this a chance if you are willing.”

Stiles’ mouth opened and closed, unable to produce the words he was thinking. “What are you saying?” he eventually uttered.

“I’m saying I like you too, you dork.”

He blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. His face grew red, and it wasn’t from the heat of the water he sat in. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His arms dropped into the water, hands hitting your thighs. His heart was beating out of his chest.

“Your silence is not a good sign, Stilinski.”

He broke from his trance, shaking his head. Your laugh hit his ears, making them redden in embarrassment. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s not every day that you hear something like that.”

“I get that.”

“When did this come up?” he asked, moving his hands up to your hips. “I mean, I’m not complaining but… I’ve pined over you for so long and I thought… I thought I’d never have a chance. I had fallen in love with a girl that would never notice my feelings. I’ve been trying too hard to show you this entire trip but it felt so hopeless. Now, here we are, sitting in a hot tub with you-” he choked a bit on his words, “-straddling my waist, saying that you like me too. I’m so confused.”

“I think I always liked you too,” you told him wholeheartedly. “But I never wanted to admit it. I didn’t think I’d see you as more than Stiles - my best friend for life. But, this entire trip, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. All I could think about was you and I would get flustered because of it. I couldn’t understand why I kept seeing you in this new light, realizing how handsome you are. How attractive you are. I couldn’t stop thinking about how happy you make me. And the girls finally pointed out that I like you as more than a friend. And I feel stupid that I didn’t realize it sooner.”

“So, that’s why you are here now?” he asked, tilting his head.

“That’s why I’m here now,” you confirmed. “I couldn’t sit around and wait knowing that you would be here waiting for me.”

His face lit up. “I-I wasn’t waiting.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, Sti,” you giggled. “But, I came here to tell you that I like you, Stiles Stilinski. As more than a friend. And I’m sorry it took me this long to see that.”

“I like you too,” he spat without hesitation. His hand rose from the water, pushing some hair from your face, fingers sliding down your cheek. Your eyes locked together, staring deep into his golden orbs that screamed the loving emotion he was trying to portray for so long. No more was it hidden behind a wall of fear. His lips curled into a smile, the bottom lip tugged between his teeth nervously. “Can I kiss you finally?”

“You know, it’s more romantic if you just do it.”

Stiles chuckled, tilting his head upwards while pulling you forward. Lips smashed together in a soft connection at first, his lips tender pillows that molded against yours perfectly. They were smooth, the cold not having chapped them like he feared prior to leaving Beacon Hills. Your eyes fluttered closed, feeling the sparks flying the second his lips pressed down on yours. Fireworks were flying, popping in your ears in an array of explosions. His thumb ran across your cheek, helping you to relax.

The first kiss was short, almost like he was testing the waters. He broke away for a small burst of air before pulling you back in for a deeper, more intense kiss. Your hands moved around his neck from his shoulders, tugging his closer. Your chest pressed against his, the gap between your bodies nearly nonexistent. His head tilted to the side to give him better access to your mouth, noses not bumping as bad. His plump lips would drag down against yours, enveloping them in his warmth. The kiss seemed to suck he life from the, the puckering of his lips and harsh sucking making them swell and turn beet red.

Your moan was lost when his tongue tapped to your lips, asking for entrance. You had gladly parted them, allowing him to roam your mouth with the wet article without interference. His mouth and tongue were skillful, eliciting a loud moan that was lost to his throat. The tip of his tongue traced the outline of your mouth, along your cheeks as he memorized every inch. He toyed with your tongue, making them playfully circle each other before he continued on his merry way. The intense feeling made your hands curl through his hair, tugging at the chocolate locks shamelessly. His hands returned to your waist, drawing circles through the thin camisole.

The heated make out didn’t stop there. He continued to assault you with multiple open mouth kisses, peppering your forehead, cheek and neck with kisses. A shiver trailed down his bare spine the first time he kissed your neck, a loud moan directed into his ear. He grew harder at the sound, not caring that his erection was pressing up into you. He was too enthralled by the fact that he was finally kissing you. He had his crush in the palm of his hand and he wasn’t planning to let you go anytime soon. He would cradle this moment - and every moment going forward - not letting you get hurt for as long as he lived.

His lips continued south, kissing along the hem of the camisole. He paused for a second, tilting his head to look up at you. No words were needed. You nodded and he proceeded. The front of the camisole was tugged down, your breasts exposed to the garden air. The chill had made your nipples harden, the lack of bra under your sleepwear only making Stiles happier. His mouth was wet but dry, eyes wide at the beauty of your chest. He leaned forward, tongue darting out to flick at the nipple carefully. He was testing your reaction, unsure how far to go to start.

“More,” you urged with a whine.

Stiles obliged, wrapping his lips around the nipple completely this time. Your moan wasn’t silent. It filled the garden, the feeling of his mouth on your chest unexplainable. He sucked as much skin between his cheeks as he could, tongue playing with the hard peak the entire time. He kissed at your chest without remorse, tugging at the nipple until a loud pop was heard. The kisses on your chest were marvelous, wet and hot on your skin. He loved kissing around your breast, proudly loving your nipple. His wet hand played with the opposite breast, the pad of his thumb circling the nipple, pressing it into your skin. He eventually swapped between your breasts, repeating the actions he had previously done.

You wondered how he was this good when he only had one girlfriend before.

His lips returned to your mouth, fixing your camisole as he did. Not that it helped in the end - the material was wet and clung to your chest, showing the taunt peaks that he made even harder and more boisterous from his tender loving care. He turned to his side as he kissed you, placing you to the seat beside him. Your leg stayed draped around his waist and his hand stayed on your hip, but the angle for the kisses and cuddles made you heat up. The only mistake with the new spot was that you became more aware of his erection, the bulge pressed against your inner thigh.

His breath hitched and the kiss broke when your hand ghosted over the bulge, tugging the string undone in passing. Your hand ended up on his, pushing it down your body towards your throbbing heat. Since the kisses started, your body was aching for more. Your pussy was screaming for attention, trembling with desire. You didn’t know if you were going too fast, but you knew you wanted to be touched by him - and only him.

“Are you sure?” he asked breathlessly, his lips skimming yours as he talked. You nodded, giving him a smile for reassurance. Stiles gave a bright smile in return, returning to kissing you. Long fingers toyed with the front of your shorts before slipping passed the band of them and your panties, connecting with the heated core. They touched your swollen clit first, a wave rushing through you. The closer they inched to your core, the more ready you became.

His middle finger slid inside of you, a prolonged moan leaving your lips. Your arms hugged him close, the finger sliding in and out of you slowly at first. It slowly sped up, curling at the tip for added effect. His trimmed nail scratched at the inner linings of your pussy, the sensitive feeling spiked from the scraping sensation. He was able to reach a depth you weren’t used to, finding a spot that made you quiver with happiness. Your face buried into his neck to keep from moaning too loudly, not wanting to be caught.

By the time he was adding a second finger, your hand was at the band of his swim trunks, tugging the Velcro undone. Your breath hitched at the size of him, his cock fully erect under the tips of your fingers that dipped into his shorts. He was long and girthy - he was frankly rather huge. The twitched against your grip, pulsating under your fingers. Your fingers traced along the throbbing veins, your mouth watering at the feeling. Your hand wrapped around him completely, stroking him as best as you could in his bottoms. Skin was tugged up and over the head before it was released to return to its original position.

Together, you continued to please each other, moaning together. His moans were sexy when they started up after you touched him. There was a gruff husk in the tone, his throat vibrating with the sounds he made. The deep noise reverberated around you, resonating in your ear. It made you grip him harder, jerking him faster just so you could hear it more. His response was to press his thumb to your clit as he pumped his fingers inside of you, urging you to your high.

“You know,” he breathed, fingers halting. Your hand stopped, pulling away from his neck to look at him in confusion. “We shouldn’t do this here.”

“What?”

Stiles smiled, pulling his fingers out of you. He worked your hand from his bottoms, fixing them before standing from the water. You were extremely confused, unsure what he was doing. He grabbed the towel he brought with him, drying off as he stepped out of the water. The man turned, a hand held out for you to help you out, which you willingly took. The man dried you down, tenderly patting the fluffy towel to your limbs. You smiled at him, watching him closely. He helped you pulled the hoodie over your head, his towel wrapped around his neck. Two arms circled your waist, pulling you into his chest.

“How about we head back to the room for the night?”

Your heart pounded, fingers laced with Stiles as he led you back to the room. Your cheeks hurt from the smile that was plastered to your face, holding his hand tightly. The happiness was pouring out of you, not questioning why he stopped the heated session in the hot tub until you got back to the room.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think that you would realize your feelings for your best friend and confess them to him in the same day as getting the best orgasm in your life once you arrived back to your shared room, his fingers resuming what was started before. The two of you fell asleep cuddled together in his bed with large smiles on your faces, left to dream about everything that happened.

The following day seemed to be better than ever - the best day in your eighteen years of living.

You had woken up to Stiles’ sleeping face buried in the pillow next to you, mouth slightly parted with soft snores slipping out. His chin was wet with drool. His lashes were splayed across his cheek beautifully. His hair was ruffled and sticking up in different directions against the pillow. He was pleasantly surprised when you awoke him with a kiss, not arguing as he pulled you against him to ignite a hot make out session to start the morning.

No one seemed fazed by your locked hands when you arrived at breakfast. Though unspoken, it went without words that you were an item at this point. It wasn’t how you expected to be called Stiles’ girlfriend, and vice versa for him, but after the heated night you had, it would be odd to think you were something else. Scott just threw his hands into the air, screaming a vehement ‘finally’ that made everyone look at him.

He wasn’t fond of the water you tossed on his face to cool him down.

You spent the morning hours in the main rec room playing games with the pack, Stiles’ arms always finding a way to slither around your waist when you were playing against someone other than him. You weren’t arguing, though it always seemed to cost you the game because you found yourself sinking into his touch, the game of foosball against Scott an afterthought. Kira pulled out a deck of cards, the entire pack settling down to have cocoa as you played intense games of BS and five-way war. The morning was everything you wanted on this trip and more, spiced up by the occasional kiss from your new, unspoken boyfriend.

Stiles successfully got you to ski down the mountain once the afternoon struck, though it took a while since he kept getting distracted whenever he looked at you, his cheeks a bright red and the same monkey hat tugged over his eyes. You were proud of yourself for not crash as you slid across the snow towards the bottom of the mountain where Stiles was awaiting, throwing your arms up in victory. Until you crashed into his body, his broad form cushioning the blow. Your bodies were covered in snow, bodies tangled together, causing you to laugh in unison, a tender kiss shared before the others began making fun of you.

As the sun set, you waddled back to your room with Stiles in tow, snow packed down your pants and shirt from the impromptu snowball fight the true alpha decided was the best way to end your trip - the werewolf stuffing a handful of snow down the back of your jacket before running away from his death wish. You spent nearly an hour rolling around in the snow as the sun disappeared behind the mountain, enjoying the time with your friends. Stiles teased you as you rushed back into the hotel when Finstock commanded it, your legs carrying you towards you room for a hot shower.

“I’m freezing!” you called, Stiles left to shut the door behind you. He was still snickering, locking the door before continuing into the room. The man leaned against the wall near the entrance to the room, golden eyes tearing you apart from behind. His animal-like stare was hungry, admiring you as you shrugged off the jacket, throwing you hat, scarf and gloves onto your bed. He was glad that he had gotten you, though not officially in his head. And after the day, he wanted to change that. He wanted to make you his - in every way possible.

“Stiles?” you asked.

The human male glanced up, meeting your puzzled gaze. You stopped to look at him, noticing that he was still near the door with his eyes on your body. His eyes were swirling with a million emotions, his body unmoving. Wordlessly, he strut forward, tossing off his scarf, hat and gloves on his way. His strong arms wrapped around you, his forehead resting on yours. His breath was hot against your cheeks and lips, the snow melting from the heat your body was no producing.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked abruptly. You blinked at him for a second before a fit of laughter broke free. The man holding you pouted, giving you a sorrowful glance. “What’s with the laughter? I’m being serious here!”

“I know. I don’t mean to laugh,” you managed to tell him through your laughs. “I just figured that after last night, we kind of already were. You’ve been all clingy today and kissy and you still have to ask?”

“I thought it’d be only right to make it official,” he claimed, dimples showing up when he smiled. “I’ve waited for so long for this to happen and I want to do it right. And I want to make you mine, Y/N. You are the one girl I have liked for longer than I could ever imagine and I am here to ask you right here, right now to be my girlfriend.”

“Wow, Stilinski. Who knew you could be so smooth? Where is my klutz of a friend?”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding,” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers threaded through his messy locks, nails scratching against his scalp. A happy sigh left his lips, the man obviously enjoying the feeling. “Yes, Mieczyslaw Stiles Stilinski. I will be your girlfriend.”

“Really?” he asked, disbelieving. “You’re sure I haven’t just dreamt all of this?”

“I will walk away right now.”

“No!” he hollered, lifting you of the ground. A sweet squeal left your lips in joy, laughter befalling his ears. The man spun you around with ease, hugging you as close as possible. Your bodies eventually fell to his bed with your boyfriend hovering over you, arms on either side of you. Sparkling orbs met yours, your body melting into a pot of honey he offered with a simple look. His plump, pink lips moved forward, locking to yours in a tender embrace.

They moved against each other in loving grace and extreme haste, speeding up as passion intensified. Open mouth kisses were shared, tongues dancing together between parted lips, hands roaming every inch of the opposite’s body. Lips were swelling from the numerous kisses, Stiles’ lips sucking and tugging joyously at yours. His jacket was shrugged off mid kiss, your fingers softly traveling up and down his arms where countless veins were protruding. It was a turn on you never thought you’d have.

He rolled over so you were straddling him, your arms on either side of his head to support your weight. You were sat up, kiss broken with lips lingering against each other, long enough for him to strip the shirt over your head. Your arms were extended over your head, a smile on your face when he pulled the shirt up, tossing it away. His following immediately after, your bodies falling backwards against the bed.

Your pants were kicked off mid kiss, the only thing separating your bodies being thin pieces of damp underwear - bra and panties for you and the checkered boxers on him. The kisses you shared were heated, your bodies beginning to stick together from sweat that poured out. Your hips rocked instinctively against his, grinding against his pelvis along the defined v-lines that were indented in his skin. Throating groans and breathy moans spilled from his lips when you parted, his hips bucking up to meet yours.

They sped up, bodied rolling aimless around on the bed to alternate who was in control. Not once did he make an attempt to remove the intruding material of your undergarments, opting to suffer with the dry humping that had ensued with the ever-rampant kisses. He was hard, his cock twitching and bulging against his boxers, trying to reach your center. His breathing was unsteady, the warmth of your pussy pressing against his clothed region making it hard to keep calm.

He lost control from the simplest touch. Your kisses were running along his cheek and jaw until you got to his neck. A simple bite and suck mixed with the jerk of your hips into his and he lost everything. His moan was louder, the gruff crackle of his voice becoming music in your ears. His fingers pressed harder into your sides, pushing up into you as hard as he could. His hips sputtered slightly. Honey eyes were sealed tight, his head falling back into the pillows. He relished in the feeling of your hands running along his barren torso, shivering from the touch to his sensitive nipples.

Your body, hovering over his, stopped moving, feeling the discomfort under you. “Stiles,” you started, voice uneasy but playful. “Did you just cum in your boxers?”

“What? No,” he said, drawing out the final word unconvincingly. His eyes cracked open, sighing when he spied the unamused expression from his failed lie. “Fine. Yes, I did. If you dare laugh, I will kick you out of this bed right now.”

Your smirk grew, leaning down to kiss him. “I didn’t know I had that effect on you.”

He sighed into the short kiss, a lazy smile showing up on his face. “You should know you do. It wasn’t what I intended to happen, but it definitely felt good.” The man squirmed following his words before continuing. “Now, this is kind of uncomfortable. I have a cream load in my pants right now and you being on top of me isn’t helping.”

“Well, I guess we should go shower then,” you mused, crawling off of him. Stiles’ forehead crinkled.

“We?”

“I’m a bit cold from all of that snow,” you told him, not glancing back until you reached the door to the bathroom. You cast him a sexy look over your shoulder, flipping your hair so you could see him. “So, are you going to come join me, Stilinski? We should get you washed up.”

You didn’t wait for him to move, but the thump in the bedroom told you that he crashed to the floor in his attempt to follow you. Heavy footsteps thumped across the room, shadowed only by the water flowing in the glass shower. The slam of the door behind you was an indication of his presence, and the warmth of his body pressed to your back confirmed his eagerness. As the bathroom began to fog up, the hot water steaming the enclosed area quickly, you were turned to meet his lips.

His hands roamed your body, skillfully unhooking the bra that was still on your body. It slid across the ground, tossed away carelessly with your panties following. His boxers, wet with his arousal, joined them immediately after, your nude bodies ready for the shower. Stiles broke the kiss, ushering you into the glass shower with a slap to the ass that made you squeal, the man turning to grab two towels before joining.

He didn’t jump straight into anything intimate. The time was taken to wash up, Stiles rubbing shampoo through your hair before himself. He ran the wash cloth along your body carefully, cleaning your skin until it was pristine. He hugged you close, sharing multiple short kisses as a way to warm you up from the cold day in the snow.

Only then did the kisses speed up, his hands began to trace your body. Your hands clawed at his arms and chest, craving more from him as the kisses got deeper - needier. His erection pressed to your thigh, your core aching for even more. Lips traveled along your neck, head tilted to give him access to the region he desired. You were backed into the wall, the cold tile pressed flesh to your shoulder blades, making you tense. Yet, the heat of the water and the warmth of his leanly muscular body seeping into you from the tenderest touches helped you relax, sinking into his hold entirely.

His hips ground against yours, his erect cock trapped between your stomachs. A dribble of precum was seeping from the tip, the wet patch stringing from the dark happy trail of hair that traveled down Stiles’ navel to your stomach, your insides boiling under the smoldering fire that was hormones. The shaft slid between your bodies, twitching every so often as it grew harder. He was ready for more.

Before he could make a move, you had slipped from his grasp, sinking to your knees in front of him. The water pooled around your knees, rippling outwards around your body. Water rained over your form, cascading down your body in pearls of pristine, clear light. Stiles watched you through hazy eyes, your body glistening in the light of the bathroom that glowed above the shower. Your eyes met his, twinkling with unread mischief that matched his name. Yet, he found them beautiful - from the color to the size to the way they made his heart race from a simple glance.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft, a deep breath muffled by the thudding water against the floor. Your eyes closed, lips pressed to the length of his cock, the large appendage hardening and pulsing from contact. A low, breathy moan slid from the man’s lips, eyes fluttering closed from the bliss. He waited for the overwhelming feeling to embrace him like a hug, your lips wrapped around him like he always dreamt of.

The feeling was beyond his belief - better than he ever thought. Your mouth was warm and wet, hollowed for the feeling was tight. You heard his sharp intake of air, feeling his hand weave through your wet locks to keep your hair out of your face as well as having something to hold onto, knowing that he was enjoying it. Your head bobbed along his length, trying not to gag at his large size when he filled your cheeks until you looked like a squirrel. Your hand pumped what couldn’t fit in your mouth, your hand and head moving in sync.

His groans got louder, one veiny hand pressed against the wall to keep him from falling. Your tongue ran along the underside of his shaft, the tip tracing the pulsating vein that protruded from his skin, running along the entire length. You backed away from him slightly, focusing on the tip just as you had the rest of his erection, sucking at it until he was moaning your name. Your tongue lapped at the rough patch that made him quiver, toying with the head like it was a tootsie pop. He was sweet on your tongue, his golden nectar making your taste buds tingle. Your mouth watered, ready to taste every drop of his essence poured into your mouth, sliding down your throat like a waterfall of honey.

He pushed you away, earning him a dazed and confused pout. His hand, tangled in your locks, pushed your head back, a string of saliva draped between swollen lips and the red tip of his cock. He poked straight out towards you, bouncing with never ending twitches, eager for what he had in mind. A hand was extended to you, your fitting in it perfectly. His touch sent sparks through your body, goosebumps popping up along your arms. He helped you stand, your back pressed back to the wall. Your leg was hiked up, his arm under your knee. His lips ghosted against yours, hips bucking forward.

“Please,” he pleaded. “I know we just started dating, but I can’t wait. I love you, Y/N, and I need you. My horny, teenage mind can’t stop thinking about you. I need you. I want you. I want to feel every inch of you. I want to be inside of you. I want to show you how much you mean to me. Please, baby.”

“Stiles, we can’t-”

He backed away with a deep frown. “O-oh. Right! Obviously. I’m not going to push you if you aren’t ready. I completely understand-”

“Stiles!” you called, slapping his chest. He winced playfully, placing a hand to where you hit. “I’m not saying no to sex. I’m not a virgin and a girl has needs to. And you have no idea how much my pussy aches for you. But I’m also not keen on getting pregnant.”

He blinked in confusion before his golden eyes widened, jaw going slack. “Oh,” he mumbled once, the word growing louder the second he uttered, “Oh! Wait! I can fix that!”

He ran from you, the glass door sliding open with a thump against the wall. He didn’t bother shutting it, nor did he mind the trail of water that dripped from his skin as he rushed from the bathroom. His loud curses from the cold air outside the bathroom made you laugh. You could see clothes being thrown around in the main room. You were left to wait for whatever he had.

“Ah ha!” he called, ripping the box of condoms his dad had forced upon him prior to leaving on the trip. The square foil packages piled onto your bed, his hands fumbling to open one as he walked back to the bathroom. He nearly slipped on his own wet path, barely managing to make it back to the shower without crashing to the floor. He was sliding the condom down his length when he stepped in, pinching the end so there was a spot for his sperm to gather when he came again.

You squealed from shock and surprise, Stiles lifting you from the ground. You were pressed into the wall harder than before, legs winding around his waist instinctively. His hands supported you, yours resting on his shoulders. You bit at your lip, his length pressed against your core. Even covered by the rubbed, he was warm.

He glanced at you for silent approval, only moving forward when you nodded at him. He shifted you against him so he could adjust himself at your entrance, sliding into you slowly. It wasn’t the first time you were having sex - a bad one-night stand at one of Lydia’s parties not the best reference when thinking about such an activity - but instantly, he was the best. Stiles filled you to the brim, easing into you to keep from hurting you. The tip rested against your g-spot when he was fully seated between your walls, making it hard to relax with the countless fireworks that were going off. He held you tenderly, allowing you to adjust before beginning to thrust.

Yup. Mark was definitely nothing compared to Stiles.

You moaned his name loudly from the start, Stiles bouncing you slow at first against his hips before speeding up. Crescent shaped nail marks were ebbed into his shoulders, your eyes clenched at the overwhelming sensation. Wet hips clapped together loudly, his slick, covered length sliding in and out of you without remorse. The once slow thrusts didn’t last long, the man slamming into you quickly, reaching deep into your core.

He only stopped when his feet slid under him, nearly dropping you. His thrusts had been too quick for the clumsy man, the water that was gathering around his feet finally too much for him. His head rested on your chest, stilled inside of you. His chest rose and fell, let out a laugh that was contagious. You began to laugh with him, hugging him close. He was pulsing inside you, stretching your walls and strengthening your desire for him to pound you senseless, but not when he was bound to slip.

“Maybe this isn’t the best position,” he uttered, placing you down.

You whimpered lowly when he left you empty, only to be pushed forward - away from the wall. Your hands caught on the glass, breasts pressed to the fogged door. Your mouth parted with a loud moan that added to the fog, Stiles buried inside you once more from behind. Without having to support your weight, he could focus on his actions, his hips crashing against your behind in an array of powerful thrusts.

Your cheeks jiggled, turning red from the constant collision of his body against yours, your pussy tight around him. His cock pistoned in and out of you without remorse, the tip hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. His hand occasionally would slap at your butt, low, dirty words urging you on. You never would have guessed that Stiles liked such rough sex, but you weren’t complaining. He made you feel wonderful.

Your breasts were taut to the glass, your forehead pressed against it as you panted - moaned. The angle made you constrict around him, Stiles able to reach deep into you. His words consisted of one thing: your name. A hand tangled through your hair as he pounded into you from behind, tugging your head backwards. Everything he did was magical and you didn’t want it to stop until you were pouring out around him, clinging to him like your life depended on it.

You were saddened when he sputtered to a stop, choking on the warm, wet air. You had nearly been at your peak when he came to an abrupt halt, cock twitching into your walls with intense vigor. He spilled his seed into the air pocket left in the condom, his orgasm crashing over him without warning. The knot inside of him had coiled and burned in a matter of moments, a prolonged grunt of your name heard.

“Really, Sti?” you asked, glancing back at him over your shoulder. He pulled out, pulling you back against his chest. His hands cupped your breasts, fondling them at you waddled together to the shower knob. You laughed, biting your lip to cover your moan. “Don't try to get out of this! I’m mad at you. You came again and I haven't even finished!”

“I’m sorry, babe,” he hummed. Your face flushed at the new pet name. “But, that’s why we aren’t done yet.”

“Wait, what?”

Stiles discarded the condom before lifting you from the ground, carrying you to the room - still wet. You laughed at him, squeaking when you were thrown onto the bed. You giggled at the pile of condoms on your bed across the way, the man you were now dating grabbing a second packet to slide down his length just as before.

Instead of crawling on top of you, he tackled you from the side, rolling your bodies so you were on top. Your hips ground together, a few heated kisses shared before you found yourself sliding down his length. Propped up on the balls of your feet, hands on his chest for support, you bounced against him. Your head was thrown back, letting yourself go to enjoy the ecstasy of his cock inside of you. His hands were on your waist to help guide your motions, bucking his hips up to meet your pace.

You were a moaning mess. Your nails clawed on his toned chest, playing slightly with the hairs between his pecs. Your hips were clapping together noisily, his cock digging deep inside you every time you crash down against him. Stiles didn’t know where to keep his eyes - they darted between your face, watching you moan his name loudly with your eyes clenched shut, and his cock sliding in and out of you quickly, the condom soaked with your juices. He loved the way your face contorted with pleasure, but he was aroused by the sight of his cock disappearing into your tight pussy.

“Fuck,” he groaned, shifting against the bed. Your sloppy bounces made his gaze hazy, his tongue passing over his lips sexily. “You’re so fucking hot. You’re so fucking tight. God, where have you been all my life? Why did I wait this long to tell you how I felt? This is amazing, Y/N.” His eyes glued to your breasts bouncing up and down with every collision of your hips, the man grunting. “God, I love your tits. I want to suck on them while you cum. And I love your tight, little pussy. You were made for me, baby. Only for me.”

“Only you, Stiles,” you repeated breathlessly, unable to focus. You were seeing stars and his dirty talk was only making it worse. You had to reply on his thrusts up into you to finally pant out at him, nearing your peak. “I’m cumming, Stiles. I’m cumming.”

He sped up, urging you with his husky voice to cum. He pushed to meet your high with his own, straining to orgasm as well. He knew he would regret it later when his cock ached and his legs were sore from tensing, but the idea of spilling his load into another condom at the same time you coated it with your juices, walls closing around him in a hug, was worth the pain.

With a loud moan, you were undone, clenching around his cock as you spilled everything you had. The wet warmth you emitted was more than enough to break him for a third time, the man filling the condom with shot after shot of his thick, white load. He closed his eyes, relishing in your moans, imagining that he was filling your pussy with his cum. He wanted to see your folds dripping with the white liquid, your fingers smoothing over it sexily to show him what he did, just like he saw in his porns. But he had to settle with the air pocket filled with his sweet nectar, strings of cum milked by your tight core.

You collapsed to his chest, Stiles placing your bare, wet body to the bed, the sheets clung to him as he rolled out of the bed, tossing the used condom while fetching the towels. He dried you off - himself included - crawling into the bed next to you. You were weary from your activities, more than willing to cuddle into Stiles’ side after the send sunk from his weight. His lips pressed to your forehead, kissing it lovingly.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I know it’s too soon, but I do.”

“I love you too,” you yawned at him. You knew he was smiling. You could feel it. It made you smile too. Your arms hugged him close, the man pulling the blankets around your bodies. “Thank you for the best night ever.”

“Thank you for the best trip ever.”

“Thank you for being the best man ever.”

Stiles chuckled. “Thank you for everything.”

It was silent for a moment.

“I can’t beat that. Asshole.”

“Ha!”

A fit of laughter filled the room, like nothing had changed.

You were always meant to be with this man.

“Did you guys have a good night?” Scott teased as you piled onto the bus the following morning. You cast him a glare, the morning not agreeing with you. The alpha werewolf raised his hands innocently, plopping into his seat. “Was just a question.”

“Be nice,” Stiles laughed, pushing you into the seat by the window. He draped your Harry Potter fleece blanket that was stowed in your bag for emergencies over your lap before taking his seat, his fingers lacing with yours. “You know YN isn’t a morning person when she hasn’t had her coffee.”

“It’s not my fault that their coffee machine broke today of all days.”

“Scott McCall, I swear I will punch you in the fucking nuts if you don’t shut up,” you growled. “See if you have little werewolf babies when I’m done with you.”

Scott sunk into his seat silently, Stiles laughing at your threat. The bus bumped as it began to travel down the road, your head resting on the window. Stiles adjusted the blanket over both of your laps, watching you with a small smile.

“I can’t sleep knowing you are watching me.”

“I can’t help it,” he chuckled, leaning over to kiss your cheek. You turned to look at him, lips upturning slightly. “You’re too cute.”

“I’m also very tired and irritable.”

Stiles hummed in response before leaning over, a sly smirk on his lips. “I can help with the irritability,” he whispered into your ear.

“What?

He gestured to stay silent, his hand slithering under the blanket. You sent him a look, but he grinned. “We’re in for a long ride, baby. So, better get comfortable.”

His fingers dipped into your jeans and panties, your legs parting to feel his fingers at you core. You adjusted your position to lean on his shoulder, trying to get closer to him. Two slender digits slid into your folds, pumping in and out of you mercilessly. You bit your lip to keep quietly, returning his gesture by palming his groin through his pants.

He was right. It would be a very long drive when he was driving you crazy with his fingers burrowed inside you, giving you multiple orgasms that made sitting in your seat rather uncomfortable. But the feeling of his fingers finding the spots that made you quake, drawing shapes and the letters of his name to your clit, was worth the agony of the public pleasing. He would get it later when you could be alone, but for now, you would enjoy what he had to offer on the lengthy drive home.

Your mood was considerably brightened when you arrived back in Beacon Hills. There was a pep in your step that Scott didn’t dare question, leading Kira towards his mom’s car. The multiple orgasms you were given had done wonders to your mood and you were excited to be home. Stiles was grabbing your bags as you rushed to the sheriff, wrapping your second dad in a hug.

“Welcome back, Y/N,” he said, returning your hug with his own. Stiles dramatically threw his arms in the air when he joined you both, the bags at his side. “Did you guys have fun?”

You backed away from Noah’s hug, sharing a glance with Stiles. Your smiles grew, knowing what had happened between you both the entire trip - notably the bus ride home at the moment. His hand reached out for yours, giving it a tender, reassuring squeeze.

“You have no idea,” you both spoke in unison.

“Well, let’s head home then. We can order some pizza and wings for an early dinner and watch a movie,” Noah claimed.

“Sounds great!” you cheered. “I’ll get the bags put away.”

You trudged off with the bags, ready to hassle stuffing them into the police cruiser trunk, out of range from the two Stilinski men. Noah turned to his son, an eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk.

“What?’ Stiles asked.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that little hand hold just now,” he jabbed at his son. Stiles’ face turned a bright red. “Glad to know that the condoms came in handy then.”

“Dad!”

“Am I wrong?” Noah pushed.

“Wha- I mean no! But still!” Stiles yelped, flustered to the brim.

“Calm down, Stiles,” Noah laughed. “I’m happy for you. It’s about time you got the girl of your dreams. And I know that she will make you happy. That’s all I ever want for you - your happiness.”

Stiles smiled softly, hugging his dad. “Thanks, dad.”

Noah hugged the young man back tightly, the rare family moment something he would cherish forever.

“But seriously. I’m not ready to be a grandpa.”

“Dad!”

“No need to worry, Papa Stilinski,” you broke in, causing stiles to jump a mile from his dad. You grinned at the men, hands behind your back to feign innocence. “If he didn’t have any on him, I did. My mom always has me carry some just in case. I am always prepared, just in case.”

You turned without another words, climbing into the back of the police car. Stiles was speechless, gaping at you the entire time. His face and neck were red, his jaw was slack and his heart was hammering. But he oddly found it attractive what just happened and he was left praying that he wouldn’t have a tent in his jeans from what he just heard.

“I like her,” Noah spoke up, glancing at his son. “She’s a keeper.”

Stiles blushed brighter, but smiled nonetheless. “I know she is,” Stiles uttered to his dad. He couldn’t be happier with how things turned out. He had finally gotten the girl. “I’m glad I went on this trip, dad.”

Noah smiled, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ shoulders. “I’m glad. Make sure to take care of her.”

“I will.”

“Let’s go, guys!” you called through a crack in the door. “I’m starving!”

The Stilinski duo laughed, running towards the car where you awaited. Stiles climbed into the back next to you, hugging you to his side. His dad was in the driver’s seat, glancing at the young couple in the back seat. Noah couldn’t be more proud of this outcome; you both were happy, just as it was always meant to be.

And Stiles?

He would never forget his senior year ski trip.

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