#stiles stilinski kinktober | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scribesoflex · 1 year ago

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〈 freaks! — stiles stilinski

warnings; somnophilia (sex when one person is asleep), dubcon, handjob, minimal talking, slight dirty talk, squirting, unprotected sex, cream pie.

taglist; @normsdaughter-alt @f4yerite @skyesthebomb @love4ldr @slut4drudy @certified-stargirl @thievin-stealing @creepydollie

a/n; this was only edited once, so my apologies for the grammar and spelling errors bound to appear. hope y’all like 💞

You sigh heavily, dragging yourself up the stairs to your boyfriends dorm room, backpack adding a weight to your already aching shoulders. Your eyes are heavy, sore from hours spent staring at your computer screen.

You smile at the students that pass you, looking equally as drained, exam season might just be the death of you.

Twisting the knob for stiles door, you slip in quietly, not bothering with the lights, letting your backpack hit the ground with a thump. You can hear sheets rustling as you creep towards his bed, blinking to see sleepy stiles smile up at you, you yawn quietly.

“Hi baby, don’t wanna wake you”.

You shimmy out of your pants, kicking them towards the over spilling laundry basket in the corner, reaching under your shirt to unclasp your bra. Stiles scoots over opening the covers so you can slip in — enveloping you in his arms and duvet. It doesn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep.

—

You stir sometime after you fall asleep, blinking groggily, turning beneath the covers. Sweat has caused your shirt to cling to your bare skin, legs squishing together with an uncomfortable heat — pleasure stirring in the pit of your stomach. You frown, chewing your bottom lip, squinting in the darkness at stiles side profile. Moonlight cascades over his face, peeking through the blinds, just enough for you to see his peaceful face.

You fidget, fingers trailing down your shirt, toying with the hem. Skeptically you ponder your options, peeking at stiles under the covers, eyebrows knitting together as you trail down his toned torso, to the waistband of his sweats. What would he do?

You’re careful as you reach over to his body, fingertips gentle, skimming over his abdomen. You watch his face for any kind of reaction, but he seems completely knocked out. Your knuckles slip into sweatpants, gasping at the lack of boxers, fingers immediately greeted by the thick base of his cock. You swallow thicky, drool pooling at the back of your throat. Heat stirs in the pit of your stomach, and you whine to yourself gently.

Shifting to your knees, you use your free hand to tug the covers down his body, tugging his cock free from the constraints of his sweats. You watch as his face shifts, lips parting in a tired huff, eyes still closed nonetheless. You jerk up his length, fist tightening around the head, precum beading out, slipping past your knuckles. Glancing to his face one again, you lean forward, trying your best to keep silent as you let spit gather on your tongue, before you spit onto his tip, flattening your palm against the slit, coating him in your saliva before you tug it down the rest of his length. By the third tug, he is hard in your palm, veins prominent as you continue to jerk him off. Wetness continues to pool in your panties, breath becoming heavy in your chest. Fingers curling around the thick base, you squeeze tightly, milking him, licking your lips as you cum dribble down his length, running over your knuckles.

Stiles whines under his breath, hips jutting into the air, pressing the side of his face into his pillow. His torso caves in. You flinch, glancing at his face, relieved to see his expression go lax again, eyes still kept closed. You let go of him, licking the drying cum from the back of your hand, humming under your breath.

Carefully maneuvering your legs over his, you place your hand on the wall in front of you, using your free one to tug your panties to the side, hovering over the tip of his cock. Nerves gather in the pit of your stomach, chewing your lip, you watch his face as you lower yourself down. The tip protrudes your hole, burning as you sink down, stretching with reluctance due to the lack of prep. The first noise stiles makes is a low and deep whine, eyes clenching together tightly, face winding up in pleasure. But he doesn’t seem to wake. So you settle comfortably on his length, doing your best to keep quiet, evening your breath despite the feeling of his cock stretching you open.

Your pussy is so wet that when you rise up, and fall back down, it squelches, wetness coating the bare skin above his cock. Splashing out with every move you make, you start to lose your strength, already so close to cumming. You tug your shirt up your body, stuffing the fabric between your lips, muffling the grunts and groans from your lips. Blinking down at stiles face you can’t help but whine out even louder at seeing his peaceful face twitch in pleasure, soft pants escaping his lips, fingers twitching by your knees on either side of his hips.

Trailing your free hand down your bare torso, you spread your labia folds wide, pinching your clit between your fingers, crying out at the feeling, knees buckling as an unexpected orgasm washes over your body, making you stumble forward as wetness spurts out around the base of his cock, covering your thighs and his sweats in the milky liquid.

This wakes him, a groan ripping from the back of his throat, hands clasping your hips, squeezing the meaty flesh, forcing you to stay in place.

“fuck baby, thought i was dreaming” he groans into your hair, hips jutting up gently, making you cry out from overstimulation. he smooths his hands over the skin of your back, before he digs into your ass, kneading the soft skin, rocking you back and forth on his cock just enough to have you clenching around him.

you place your palms on his chest, lifting your body up just enough to be able to look in his eyes, lips forming a pout “wanted you bad, sorry baby” squeezing your eyes tight in pleasure you let your body slump back into his embrace.

He hums thoughtfully, thrusting up into your cunt again, rocking his bed beneath your bodies. You whine into his chest, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, spit staining his bare skin.

He continues his pace, ruthless, ignoring all the pleas you make, forcing you to babble nonsense into his chest, chuckling at your small voice inel between moans and crys of pleasure.

You can feel his cock pulsate, deep in your pussy, rocking against that spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You shift your face to look up at him, tears welling along your lashes “stiles baby, im gonna cum again” you warn, clenching when he coos down at you, fingers tangling in your hair, massaging your scalp in a gentle manner compared to the pace of his hips.

He sits your bodies up, cradling you in his hold, cock buried deeper between your walls, wetness gushing down his balls. You limply wrap your arms around his shoulders, knee’s aching when you start to meet his thrusts, bouncing up and down on cock roughly.

Your pussy suctions around him like a vice, almost too tight to take him even still, but it makes it easier to feel every ridge and vein, the way he twitches and jumps inside of you, not as obvious on the outside but equally as gone as you from how his cock feels. He cradles your jaw, forcing your head back, mouth open wide, louds whines and whimpers filling the space of his dorm room. “Want you to cum baby, cream all over my cock” his voice is gentle, way too sweet despite the crude words. It makes you cry out, rapidly nodding your head, slurring a string of ‘yes’ out before your body goes limp in his hold.

Your mind completely blanks, a ringing in your ears causes your head to pound, orgasm your knees give out, sending both of you back down to the mattress with a loud thud.

The only thing that brings you back is the grunts and moans stiles let out, warm seed spilling inside your pussy. You smack your lips, panting like a dog as you support yourself on shaky arms, blinking down at stiles as his eyes flutter open.

“Shut the fuck up, freaks!” Comes from the other side of his wall, along with a pounding that makes the pens and other stationary on his desk rattle.

#— kinktober ‘23 🎃#stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles smut #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf smut #fanfic smut #smut #kinktober

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andreafmn · 7 months ago

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Kinktober ⛓️ Day 20

Word Count: 3.1K Paring: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader Prompt @kinktober2023: Foodplay WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), food play, oral (male and female receiving)

Summary: Stiles Stilinski is forgetful. Everyone knows that, but no one more than his girlfriend (Y/N). There have been far too many occasions where the boy has forgotten special events or details for her to be mad when he fails to mention they have only one afternoon to bake a hundred cupcakes for a bake sale. And, instead of growing angry, she goes down a sweet turn.

A/N: I should be ashamed how long it has taken me to finish this damn series, but at least we are one step closer. Hopefully I finish before october 🫣🫣

MASTERLIST

In hindsight, volunteering to make a hundred cupcakes for a fundraising bake sale wasn’t the best idea. Even if it was for the lacrosse team, it sort of ended in disaster. Sweet, sweet disaster.

It was the first time since Stiles had been on the team that the lacrosse Cyclones had made it to the state competition, and they were not ready for the financial toll it would take. Since Jackson had left the school, most of the sports teams had their budgets slashed, as the Whittmores felt no need to continue contributing to their son’s extracurriculars.

However, the kids at Beacon Hills High School were nothing if not resilient, and they were determined to get the team to Santa Barbara.

Somehow, the idea of a bake sale made its way to the top of the fundraising list, and everyone and their mother had to come up with an item to bring to the school. Somehow, Stiles had roped him and (Y/N) into baking a hundred cupcakes by Monday morning, and it just so happened that it was Sunday afternoon.

It wasn’t the first time Stiles had gotten them in a pressing situation—most times, it was more life and death, but nevertheless, still pressing. The worst part was, he’d only just told his girlfriend two hours before they had to get to work. The pair had quite a long night ahead of them. Not that (Y/N) wasn’t used to it.

If the girl ever said that Stiles forgetting crucial details was a sporadic event, she’d be lying. In the years they had known each other, it had become a staple in their relationship. Even when they were only friends, she’d had to make sure anything they were meant to do was told to her first, or else she’d only find out when it was too late.

(Y/N) didn’t mind, though. She understood that the boy’s brain had always been riddled with far too many thoughts, and juggling it all could be quite frustrating. That’s why, when he woke her from her Sunday morning sleep-in, she simply said she’d shower, change, and head to his house. The girl knew he hadn’t done it in malice, so there was no point in being angry at him. At least he had remembered.

Thankfully, the journey wasn’t long since all she had to do was walk to the house next door. But she did notice the lack of a sheriff cruiser on the driveway. Only Stiles’ blue Jeep stood there, a layer of dirt gathered on the paint. Not only were they meant to bake a hundred cupcakes and decorate them, but they had to do it by themselves. And (Y/N) could only laugh at the situation.

“Stiles, I’m here,” she called out as she walked into his house as she had done a million times before. “I hope you’ve already gotten started.”

“Well, about that,” he chuckled awkwardly. It wasn’t until the girl walked into his kitchen that she saw he had only gone as far as getting the groceries they needed. “I didn’t know where to start, so I was waiting for you to get here.”

“This is gonna be a long night, huh?” she sighed with a smile as the boy nodded. “Alright then. Let’s get to work.”

In a matter of minutes, (Y/N) had set a game plan for the pair. She divided the ingredients into four stations for the four flavors they’d be doing, making sure that each recipe was visible and easy to follow. The last thing they needed were more setbacks. They only had so many hours to do 25 cupcakes of each flavor and make sure they were cool enough to be decorated. Everything had to be done precisely as written.

And for the first couple of hours, it had worked. Stiles and (Y/N) were working together like a well-oiled machine. While one mixed, the other served. While one set the timer, the other cleaned. It was all coming together nicely—too nicely.

It was only a matter of time before disaster struck.

Stiles had started to grow angsty with the repetitive tasks, his veins itching for more spontaneity. He knew he had brought this upon himself. Worse even, he had brought it upon (Y/N) as well, who, for some reason, never seemed annoyed with his constant brain scatters. Since he had known her, she had always been understanding of the way his brain worked. Where others would have chastised or criticized him, she took the time to ground him. It had been one of the many reasons he found himself falling in love with her. No matter how many times he would screw up, she was always supportive and sympathetic, finding ways to help him rather than bring him down.

And that afternoon was no different.

They were merely done with the vanilla cupcakes when Stiles had begun to grow bored. (Y/N) had instructed him to put away the dirty bowls and whisks used for that flavor before they started on the chocolate ones, but all he could think about was the chocolate syrup he had bought to drizzle on top of the dessert. His mind filled with some very unhygienic ways he could use the sweet liquid and where he could use it.

Suddenly, as though she had been reading his mind, the girl took the bottle and let it stream into her mouth. A few drops landed on her chin, and she wiped them up with her fingers before popping the digits back into her mouth. There was no subtext to it. Just a girl enjoying chocolate syrup.

But in Stiles’ everything was different. Wind was blowing her hair back, the lights had dimmed, and sensual music played in the background, all in slow motion. He was turned away from (Y/N) at the sink when he felt his erection press against the zipper of his pants, making for a very uncomfortable position as he washed the dishes. Stiles moved his legs from side to side, pressing his knees together as he searched for some much-needed friction.

But to (Y/N), he looked like he had been holding his pee in for the past few hours. “If you have to go to the bathroom, you can, Stiles,” she chuckled as she slithered her arms around his waist, grinning as he stiffened under her touch. “I don’t mind cleaning this up.”

“Oh, uh, that’s not it,” he stammered awkwardly. “I don’t really have to pee.”

“You can take a break if you want, then,” she said. “I know this is not the most thrilling task. At least, not compared to chasing down supernatural creatures. But you still made the compromise, so we have to get this done tonight.”

“Yeah, I know,” he continued fidgeting. His front was pressed against the counter, trying his best to keep his hardening bulge from her sight. “I just need a second.”

(Y/N) noticed the way Stiles froze against the counter, not even turning to give her a kiss on the cheek like he normally did. Instead, he washed the same bowl three times before noticing that he had yet to take another dish. His legs were pressed together, and his knees buckled back and forth in search of… friction, she realized. Her boyfriend was sporting a raging hard-on while they baked cupcakes.

She couldn’t fathom what about their situation had turned him on. They were covered in flour from their hair to their clothes, they had been standing for a couple of hours, and they hadn’t as much as touched hands since they had begun working. But the sweet taste in her mouth reminded her of what she had done only a few minutes before. The image of (Y/N) dripping chocolate into her mouth sparked a vivid picture in the boy’s head, and he succumbed to his wild imagination.

Any other girl would have ignored their boyfriend’s problem and focused on their long task. They had no time to waste, and certainly not many ingredients to spare. But (Y/N) wasn’t any other person, and she couldn’t let such a moment pass her by. For that split second, she thanked her lucky stars the Sherriff had gone to work, and the couple had the whole house to themselves. Things were about to get messy, and the carpet in his bedroom was hard to clean.

“Are you, by chance, turned on right now, baby?” (Y/N) purred in his ear as she ran her hands up his chest. “Are you seriously thinking about sex when we have so much to do?”

“I, uh, well, you know,” he stammered. “Things happen.”

“And what happened, Stiles?” she continued, sliding her hands now downward and landing on his cock. She squeezed it softly, chuckling as he whined at the touch. “What got you all hot and bothered?”

“Oh, uh, n-nothing really,” he replied. (Y/N) unhanded him then, allowing him to let out a breath of relief. “You know us teenage boys and our hair-thin trigger.”

“Right,” the girl said. “Turn around, Stiles.”

“I’m quite good here,” Stiles chuckled awkwardly. “I just need a minute.”

“Stiles, baby,” she called. “Turn around. I need to see you.

Once he did, he regretted not turning around sooner. Behind him, (Y/N) stood in nothing but her underwear, a mischievous grin adorning her face. In one hand, she held the bottle of syrup that had started it all. In the other, a can of whipped cream. And all Stiles could do was groan as his already painfully hard erection pressed against the seam of his jeans.

“W-what are you doing, (Y/N)?” he swallowed hard. “We, uh… you, uh…”

“I told you, babe,” she smirked. “You need a break.”

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice as he crossed the room to reach her. He took the image of her in, running his eyes from her head to her toes, as though he had never seen her in that way before. And, well, to him, that’s what it always felt like. (Y/N) was everything he had ever dreamed of, and most of the time, he felt like he had fallen asleep and never woken up when he was with her.

“You seem very intrigued by this bottle of chocolate, Stiles,” she teased, giggling softly as he placed his hands on her hips. “Is there something you wanna tell me? Maybe a little kink we’ve never explored before.”

“I didn’t know I had it until today,” the boy confessed. “The thought just popped into my head, and now, well, it’s all I’ve been able to think about.”

“So, what do you want to do with this, baby?” (Y/N) whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Tell me what you want.”

A groan escaped Stiles as she pressed her body against his, his hands exploring the exposed skin of her hips. The cupcakes were long forgotten, and all he could focus on was the excitement he felt to fulfill the fantasy he had dreamed of only a few minutes before. “Whatever you want,” he said. “I don’t care where you use it as long as I get to lick it off your body.”

“You’re giving me so much freedom,” she smiled. “Hope you don’t regret it later.”

“I don’t think I could ever regret anything that has to do with you, babe.”

“Well then, let’s start you off slow.” (Y/N) unhanded Stiles before letting a stream of chocolate fall into her mouth, allowing a bit to drip down her chin and neck. “Oh, no! I’ve made a mess of myself.”

Laughing at her overexaggerated acting, Stiles licked his lips before running his tongue from her neck up to her chin, reveling in the taste of her skin mixed with the chocolate. Mixing food with sex had never been something he had thought to do, but after the first taste, he wondered why it had taken him so long to do so.

The way (Y/N) sighed as he licked away the liquid made his cock twitch in his pants, yearning for a touch he knew would take time. And he didn’t mind. Especially after his girlfriend removed her bra and let the bottle of syrup drip down her chest, exciting him even further.

He seemed like a starved man as he feasted on the girl’s breasts, making sure not a single drop of chocolate was left. He lapped at her skin, traveling the expanse of her chest before landing on the hardened peaks of her breasts. He nipped and sucked as he teased her, chuckling softly as she moaned and threaded her fingers through his hair. Chocolate on (Y/N)’s skin shouldn’t have excited him as much as it did, but he would risk a cavity if it meant tasting her this way every chance he got.

Even though (Y/N) had been the one to initiate contact, it didn’t take long for Stiles to take control of the situation. As he kissed his way down her stomach, he hooked his fingers through the elastic of her underwear and pulled it off until she was completely exposed to him. Then, he took the bottle from her hand and let it drip on her skin until it reached her cunt. His eyes were trained on the drops of brown that stained her body, watching as it slowly moved.

Before it could reach the ground, Stiles licked it up, groaning as he tasted her wetness mixed with the sweetness of the chocolate. If he had ever questioned what the nectar of the gods tasted like, after that afternoon, he’d gotten his answer. He lapped at her core like a starving man, acting as though she was his first and last meal.

(Y/N) braced herself with the counter behind her as Stiles hooked one of her legs on his shoulder for better access to her cunt. He teased her clit with his tongue, the syrup long gone but the sweetness forever lingering. He circled the bundle of nerves with the tip, applying just enough pressure to have her panting and moaning.

“Fuck, baby,” she groaned. “I’m so close.”

All Stiles could do was send vibrations through her body with a chuckle. He wanted her to come undone in his mouth, to have her knees buckle under the weight of the orgasm he was giving her. Because, regardless of where he was lacking, the Stilinski boy was always giving.

He was relentless in his pursuit of her climax, sucking and flicking, waiting for the tell-tale signs that she was reaching her end. Signs that weren’t too far behind as he continued his attack. She threaded her fingers back into his hair, pulling at the strands while she pushed his head tight against her until, with a loud shriek of his name, she came.

She pulled him to his feet as she recovered, crashing her lips onto his. She tasted herself in his mouth and moaned at the mix with the chocolate. “That was…,” the girl panted with a laugh. “Who knew you’d be this excited over a little chocolate?”

“Well, you know I’ve always had a bit of a sweet tooth,” he grinned. “I’m just surprised it took this long for us to do something like this.”

“Oh, and we’re not done yet,” she said. In a swift move, (Y/N) flipped them over, pressing Stiled against the counter as she reached for the can of whipped cream behind them. “It’s your turn, baby.”

“What’re you…?”

Before he could continue, the girl’s hands were unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down his legs, his boxers following in tow. She smiled as his erection sprung free, red and wet from the anticipation. Poor thing looked like it was ready to burst. And who was she to deny it the touch it was yearning for?

With a playful smile on her face, (Y/N) took hold of the base of his cock, chuckling as he took in a sharp breath at the touch. She then squirted a line of cream on his length, licking the excess from the tip of the can before turning back to Stiles. The boy stared at her with giddy anticipation, trembling as she hovered over him. Her breath tickled his skin, making his body erupt in goosebumps as he waited for her to move.

And, as much as she wanted to toy with him, (Y/N) knew how long he had already been waiting for, and they still had so much to do. So, instead of making him work for it, she swirled the tip of her tongue around Stiles’ cockhead, making him grow weak at the knees. The taste alone was enough to make her want more.

She ran her tongue across his length, memorizing the feeling of his skin on her tongue, the mix of his pre with the silky sweet of the whipped cream, and the way Stiles bucked his hips forward. It was a mix she wanted to experience again, sooner rather than later.

Once she was satisfied with the cleanup job, (Y/N) finally engulfed her mouth around Stles’ cock, drawing out a loud groan from the boy. She knew he was not going to last long, but she would make them the best few minutes of his day.

(Y/N) started at a slow pace, burying him in the wetness of her mouth while she swirled her tongue around his shaft. But with the way Stiles was wriggling with every stroke, she sped up quickly. Her head moved up and down rapidly, one hand gripping the base of his cock while the other worked to massage his tightening balls.

“Oh, god, baby,” he croaked out. “Fuck, I’m almost there—don’t stop.”

And she wasn’t planning to. Instead, she kept her pace, letting him reach the back of her throat as she sucked her cheeks in. She bobbed her head until saliva was dripping down her chin, and her breath was being cut off. Just like he had done for her, she was working to reach his climax—that wasn’t too far behind.

All it took was a perfectly timed squeeze of his balls, and Stiles was stuttering forward, holding (Y/N)’s head as he emptied himself in her mouth. Strand after strand painted the inside of her mouth until there was nothing left, and with a satisfied grunt, he exited her mouth.

Still knelt on the floor, (Y/N) swallowed Stiles’ finish before looking directly into his eyes and squirting whipped cream into her mouth. She said, “Much better,” and stood up.

Stiles grabbed the sides of her face and kissed her roughly, sighing at their mixed tastes in his mouth. “That really was something else,” he smiled as he released her. “We have to try that again.”

“Tell you what,” she grinned. “If we finish these cupcakes on schedule, I can promise you a very sweet treat after.”

“Then why are we standing here?” Stiles exclaimed as he pulled up his pants. “Let’s get this done!”

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honestlydarkprincess · 1 year ago

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keep your eyes on me

stiles x derek || rating: explicit || wc: 6k

It took Derek a week in his new apartment to realize that he had a completely unobstructed view of a bedroom in the neighbouring building. There was a huge, top to bottom window that allowed him to see both the desk that was pushed against it and the bed. At first he didn’t think anything of it, but then he saw the man who lived in said bedroom and he had been struck dumb. He was beautiful— tall, lean, and always had something in his hands or in his mouth. While he worked at his desk, Derek’s mystery neighbour would always twirl a pen or pencil and chew on the top when he was thinking.

Derek didn’t mean to start staring at his neighbour, it just kind of happened. They both worked from home it seemed, and Derek’s office faced his neighbour’s window, giving him a clear view. The first couple times he caught himself staring were an accident, he’d merely zoned out. Until one day when Derek looked out and found his neighbour staring right at him, a playful smirk on his lips. When they made eye contact, the neighbour winked and Derek had flushed pink, looking away.

Or, the one where Derek is shy and an accidental voyeur. Stiles is very into it.

read on ao3

#jess does kinktober #jess.writes #jess.fics #sterek #sterek fic #sterek fanfiction #stiles stilinski #derek hale #stiles x derek #derek x stiles #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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usermischief · 1 year ago

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♜Pairing: Briles (+ Isaac) ♜Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Brett Talbot, Isaac Lahey ♜Tags/Warnings: Briles established relationship, alpha!Brett, explicit sexual content ♜Words: 6187 ♜Kinktober 2023: Sharing

ao3

a/n: I wish you a very happy birthday, @amatchinwater! 💖

———

sharing is caring

“Hey, you got a minute to talk?”

Stiles looks up from his files, quirking a brow as he studies Brett for a moment. “Sure?”

After closing the door behind him, Brett quickly crosses the distance and crouches down next to Stiles’ chair. There are only two instances when he acts like this; wanting to make peace after an argument, or when he wants Stiles to ask for a favor. They haven’t fought in a while. “You remember how we talked about that an alpha has to sometimes take care of their betas?”

Stiles raises his brows. “And how you’re not a fan of that tradition. Yes, I remember.” The first time Brett brought this topic up, Stiles had already read all about it — and he decided to date him anyway. He's aware that intimacy and physical contact have a very different meaning for werewolves, but he’s also aware that humans becoming members of a pack slowly changed the meaning of sex, especially for the alpha couple. Apparently, human mates turned the alpha more possessive and aggressive towards others and even the members of their own pack. Stiles could write a whole dissertation about how goddamn stupid it is to think a human getting involved with werewolves can’t protect themselves, but since Brett is against a lot of old traditions and never excluded him from anything dangerous, he didn’t have a reason to do so yet.

“That didn’t change.” Brett pulls his shoulders up and sighs.

“I can feel a ‘but’ coming.”

Brett grimaces a little. “It’s about Isaac.” They’ve talked a lot about Isaac in the past few days. Although he’s been with them for almost two months, it seems like he’s not fully integrated into the pack. There’s a distance there, one that’s been plaguing Brett. No pack activity seems to change that.

“So,” Stiles says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “you want to sleep with Isaac?” It will bother him, he’s not ever going to deny that. But he is also not going to stop Brett from doing it if he considers it absolutely necessary. Stiles did inherently agree to a more or less open relationship when he decided to date an alpha and continued to date him after they talked about everything.

“No.” Brett turns the desk chair Stiles is sitting on and slips between his thighs. Although Stiles isn’t a werewolf, he can’t deny that seeing Brett kneeling between his legs is doing things to him. It’s not a position an alpha would put themselves in usually, but Brett has never put himself above him in any way. They’ve always been equals, especially when it comes to decisions for the pack. “Isaac’s been in two other packs with you.” He straightens a little, just enough to wrap an arm around Stiles’ waist and pull him closer to the edge of his seat. “It’s possible he’s followed you to this one. It wouldn’t be the first time a werewolf instinctively anchors himself to a former pack mate, and with everything you two have been through…” he trails off, raising his brows.

Stiles blinks. “You want me to sleep with Isaac?”

Brett hums in agreement.

For a few moments, Stiles simply stares at his mate. Part of him still waits for the gotcha-moment, but Brett doesn’t really make these types of jokes. He probably mulled this over for at least a week, trying to figure out the best way to bring it up. Issue is, there is no best way to bring something like this up. Stiles has absolutely no idea what to say. Isaac is attractive, no doubt, and he totally would’ve been down to sleep with him — if he weren’t in a very committed relationship. Agreeing to this now feels weird. He clears his throat and runs his fingers through Brett’s hair. “What does Isaac say?”

“I haven’t spoken to him yet.”

Stiles draws his brows together. “And you’d be okay with it?”

“I’ll be in the room.”

“Babe.” Stiles puts two fingers underneath Brett’s chin, tipping his head a bit further back. “That’s not what I asked.”

Brett grimaces and ducks his head, cheeks flushing slightly. It’s such a rare sight, something that happened the last time the day Brett asked him out for the very first time. He’s been so awkward and unsure back then. This side of Brett startled him all those years ago, it’s not any less surprising now. “You know I love you, right?”

The smile slips from Stiles’ features as the words sink in. Nothing good ever starts with ‘you know I love you, right?’. Absolutely nothing.

“No.” Brett is instantly alert, straightening and reaching up to cup his cheeks. “No, don’t go into panic mode. I just want to—” he cuts off and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as if to steady himself. “I’d hate to see you with somebody else, but watching you and Isaac... I don’t know.”

Stiles blinks as realization dawns on him. “You’d be into that? Watching me and Isaac have sex?” He’s not exactly turned off by that admission. It’s more that he’s confused. Although Brett isn’t outright jealous, he’s proven to be very possessive which, again, is on par for mates. Stiles can feel the same tug of possessiveness whenever Brett is close with someone else. So, hearing this is surprising.

For a moment, Brett studies him and presses a finger to his bottom lip.

Out of instinct, Stiles pokes it with his tongue.

“No,” Brett admits then, shaking his head for good measure, “watching you be good for my beta— making him feel good, welcoming him... that’s what I’d be into.” There’s a hint of something unspoken, of something Brett has never outright said or asked him, but something that’s been floating around in his mind, nonetheless. Nature versus nurture. Brett is undoubtedly raised to fit seamlessly into the human society. That does not mean he isn’t fully in tune with his werewolf, and that side of him got stronger after becoming the alpha. There are little things that are standing out. He’s more protective, less reckless, almost responsible, and he started proving that he could provide for Stiles as well as the pack.

But there’s something else too.

Although Brett would never dare to treat Stiles as anything but his equal, he’s become increasingly frustrated when Stiles outright defied him. After all, he is the alpha, the leader of the pack. Brett’s word is law.

That’s how his wolf wants it.

Stiles cocks his head to the side. They both know he’ll never submit to Brett or anyone. That’s not who he is, and Brett would never dare to force him. Thing is, Stiles has often thought about finding a compromise, a way to ease Brett’s wolf without compromising their everyday life. “You want me to be a good boy?” Although Stiles has been thinking about it for a while, hearing these words out loud is still a bit jarring.

But Brett’s eyes flash red for the fraction of a second, proving that Stiles hit the nail on the head. He licks his lips and pulls off the chair on his lap within a second, arms wrapped tight around his waist. “I love you,” he tells him, lips brushing over his neck. “You’re so good for me.”

Stiles chuckles. “I know, but I still have to work.”

“Take a break.” Brett nips on his skin, looking up at him with an almost wolfish grin.

“Go talk to Isaac,” Stiles insists, cupping Brett’s jaw to gently push him away from him. “We can continue this when I’m done working.” The disapproving growl is not lost on Stiles, but he refuses to act on it. The only place he’ll ever consider to submit to Brett will be in the bedroom, and he can growl and hate it as much as he wants. “Priorities.” Stiles kisses the corner of Brett’s mouth.

Brett growls once more for good measure, but he relents. “Fine.” For an alpha, he knows how to act like a petulant child.

— — —

“Isaac’s here.” Brett slips into the guest bedroom and raises his brows. “You got out your best clothes, huh?” Scrunching up his nose, Stiles looks down on himself. He’s wearing one of Brett’s old college’s shirt and boxer briefs. Surely not his most attractive attire. “It’s comfortable,” he says with a shrug, “and I figured I won’t have to wear my clothes for too long anyway. So…” he trails off with a shrug.

Brett pulls him close by the hem of his shirt. “Are you still cool with this?”

“Yeah.”

“You need a bit more time for prep?”

Stiles squirms a little. “I did that in the shower.” The deal was for Brett to get him in the mood, but Stiles does not exactly need any help with that.

Chuckling, Brett grabs his ass and pulls him closer. “Excited to sleep with Isaac?”

That answer is ‘yes, very’, but it feels wrong to admit that. He doesn’t want to lie either, so he ducks his head instead.

“That’s normal, you know?” Brett grabs his chin, still smiling genuinely. “You’ve been in three different packs. You’re bound to feel an intense connection with him. I’m surprised you two never had sex before.”

Even though Stiles’ view on sex is pretty casual, it’s nothing against a werewolf’s opinion on sex — outside of a relationship that is. They’re usually pretty loyal once they found a mate. “Are you okay with this?” Stiles raises his brows. It’s going to be weird to have Brett watch them the whole time, but he gets that his wolf would never allow anything else.

Brett kisses him briefly. “I love you.” Smiling, he steps back. That’s not exactly a ‘yes’, but before Stiles can point that out, Brett has settled into the corner of the room. With the only light source being the left of two lamps on the nightstands, the armchair, and with that Brett, is almost shrouded in shadows.

“You look like a bond villain,” Stiles informs him.

Brett flashes his eyes.

“Now you look like a demon.” Stiles shakes his head when Isaac knocks on the door. Softly, almost as if he hoped it would go unheard. Stiles mouths ‘be nice’ before moving to open the door. They all agreed that this could be stopped at any time, but Stiles still would prefer it happened before starting anything. After all, Isaac has a hard time fitting in already. There’s no need to make this anymore awkward.

Isaac blinks at him, hands pushed deep into the pocket of his pants. “Hi,” he says softly.

“Hey.” Stiles steps aside, gesturing for Isaac to come in. “Ignore Brett. He’s being a dramatic asshole.”

Although Isaac chuckles, he’s clearly nervous when he glances at his alpha. He briefly nods at Brett before turning back to Stiles. Neither will be able to ignore Brett, but it’s probably still going to be the best if they at least pretend not to notice him. “You look…” Isaac trails off and sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Like I just rolled out of bed.” Stiles closes the door with a chuckle. He gets the feeling that Isaac is not going to be the one to make the first move. It’s not surprising, and to be honest, Stiles expected that. He rolls his shoulder and crosses the room. Flirting isn’t exactly his forte, but he’s pretty good at all the other stuff. Getting Isaac out of his shells should not be too hard.

Hopefully.

Stiles grabs his shirt by the back of his neck and pulls it over his head, tossing it in Brett’s general direction.

Isaac’s eyes widen slightly, but his gaze wanders over Stiles’ body regardless.

There used to be a time when Stiles would’ve shied away from it, yet Brett worshipping every inch of his body certainly did wonders for his confidence. That’s why he’s slipping onto Isaac’s lap without hesitation. “Hey,” he whispers again, chuckling softly as he bumps their noses together.

Isaac doesn’t respond, body stiffening slightly. Still, he grabs Stiles’ waist and tips his head back enough to give easy access to his mouth.

An opening Stiles surely isn’t going to miss. He cups his jaw and kisses him. As much as he’d love to ease Isaac into this, they are on a bit of a time limit here; Brett’s patience isn’t endless. So, Stiles grinds against Isaac, feeling elated at the soft gasp he gets in response. This whole thing may happen under Brett’s watchful eye, and there is a reason they’re having sex to begin with, but Stiles doesn’t want Isaac to think Stiles isn’t into it.

Because he is.

As confusing as the request was at first, Stiles can’t deny that he wants to have sex with Isaac.

But the werewolf stays passive even though he allows Stiles to deepen the kiss and starts kissing him back.

“You can stop at any time,” Stiles reminds him between kisses, “it’s okay.” Although, admittedly, it would suck.

Isaac shakes his head. “No, it’s just—"

It’s just Brett.

“Ignore him.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Isaac mumbles and scrunches up his face adorably.

Thing is, it’s really not. Stiles doesn’t have to be a werewolf to be fully aware of Brett staring at them. “Focus on me,” he tells Isaac, sliding one hand between them. “Just me.” He palms Isaac through his jeans, loving the way his eyes flutter and his lips part for a soft gasp. “Just. Me.” Smiling, Stiles kisses him again, and it seems as if Isaac’s courage follows his hard-on.

Finally, he slides his hands down to Stiles’ ass and deepens the kiss by tracing his tongue with his own. About fucking time. Brett isn’t the most patient of people, and he’s certainly not going to wait forever until Isaac got his shit together. He’d rather fuck him right in front of him to show him what he’s missing out on.

Stiles moans into the kiss.

That thought really shouldn’t be this much of a turn-on. Yet, here he is. Stiles gets the weird feeling that he’s going to learn a lot about himself today — and he’s not going to complain about it. Brett and his sex-life can only be improved by this; not that it isn’t fucking amazing already.

“You’re still very dressed,” Stiles mutters into the kiss. Not that getting fucked in clothes doesn’t have its very own appeal, but Stiles does prefer to have his partner naked. There’s something about the skin-on-skin contact that cannot be beaten by anything else.

Isaac gets to his feet, lifting Stiles without any issues, before tossing him onto the bed with a grin. Looks like someone’s gotten a bit more comfortable.

Good.

Without wasting a second, Isaac strips down to his boxers. His body is to die for, his dick a hard outline against his tight boxer briefs. He’s painfully attractive, and if Stiles is entirely honest, he can’t wait to get his hands on him — to taste him.

Stiles licks his lips and inches to the edge of the bed. Beckoning Isaac to come closer, he sits back on his heels. This is about Isaac. This is about making Isaac feel comfortable, about making him feel good.

For a second, Stiles cuts his gaze to his boyfriend, who stays unmoving in the corner of the room. His eyes are trained on him. Stiles wonders if Isaac can feel it too, the heaviness of those blue eyes; the way it’s making him feel hot and cold — the way it makes him want to please Brett. He wants, no, needs to hear him say he did good.

Still looking at Brett, Stiles hooks his fingers under the waistband of Isaac’s boxer briefs. There’s a nod. Short. Almost curt. And it snaps Stiles back into the moment. He looks up at Isaac, who stares down at him, wide-eyed. His hands are frozen in mid-air, like he stopped himself halfway through running his fingers through Stiles’ hair. When Stiles pulls his boxers down, Isaac, too, snaps back into motion. He curls his fingers into Stiles hair, guiding him towards his dick.

Moaning, Stiles wraps his lips around the tip. Heat rushes through his body when Isaac curses above him, voice nothing more than a breathless whisper. His fingers twitch in his hair, and something about the impact fills Stiles even further with the insane need to please. For the first time in forever, he doesn’t have the urge to be a little shit. He wraps a hand around Isaac’s dick and takes him deeper into his mouth, flattening his tongue against the underside of his dick. The tangy taste makes his mouth water.

He bobs his head, making sure to pay attention to every part of Isaac’s dick, tightening his lips around the tip — taking as much as he could and more each time until he pulls his hand away and grabs Isaac’s hips with both.

Isaac runs his fingers through Stiles’ hair almost like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands otherwise — until his grip turns near painful when his dick hits the back of Stiles’ throat.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Stiles pulls back again. It’s best not to push his gag reflex. Stiles looks up at Isaac, flushing with pleasure at the bright yellow eyes staring right back at him. It’s entrancing and almost as hot as Brett’s red eyes.

Almost.

“Isaac.” Although Brett’s voice is light, a ripple of unease cuts through the other wolf as he turns his head to look at his alpha. Brett approaches him, face unreadable even though his dick is so hard it has to be uncomfortable in those jeans.

Stiles pulls away and sits back on his heels, shifting uncomfortably as he watches both werewolves.

Brett says something Stiles can’t quite catch, but Isaac merely nods, shoulders relaxing again. To Stiles’ surprise, Isaac’s even grinning when he locks eyes with hm again. That’s new. Isaac’s been nervous around Brett on the best of days. No wonder. After all, his track record with alphas isn’t exactly the best. The poor guy probably worried Brett would rip his head off since Scott threw him against a wall twice for simply liking Allison; yet here he is, about to fuck his alpha’s mate.

Werewolves.

“Someone’s impatient,” Isaac informs him, nodding in Brett’s direction with a sly grin.

Brett rounds the bed. “So cocky already.” His gaze is locked on Stiles, burning with both heat and amusement. “Looks like,” he continues, his voice dropping to a low whisper, “someone’s got a magic mouth.” Chuckling darkly, Brett wraps his fingers around Stiles’ throat and pulls him up until he can brush their lips together. “I love you, gorgeous,” he all but paints the words against Stiles’ mouth. “You’re doing so well.”

Stiles keens softly, reaching up to pull Brett down for a proper kiss.

“No.” Brett grabs his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “It’s still Isaac’s turn.”

A shudder runs down his spine. Isaac’s turn. It should make him feel weird, instead it makes his dick twitch in his already too tight briefs. There’s a part of him that still fully believes he shouldn’t be this excited about fucking Isaac. He’s in love with Brett.

And yet.

Dragging his thumb over his mouth, Brett lets go of him. He doesn’t sit back down in his corner, however. Instead, he gets comfortable on the bed, leaning against the headboard, legs spread open almost invitingly.

Stiles nearly loses his mind as he forces himself to turn away from him again. Brett is doing it on purpose, he knows that. He wants to push him, like the asshole he is. But Stiles is not going to cave. Two can play this game.

Isaac looks at him, hands awkwardly in the air like he’s not entirely sure how to continue now that Brett is right there, which is most likely the exact reason Brett did it. His methods may be questionable, but they usually work.

It’s annoying.

Stiles pushes the thought out of his mind. For a few heartbeats, he studies Isaac’s face – the dirty blonde curls hanging into his forehead, his sharp jawline, the bright blue eyes, and his mouth, so damn kissable. He all but lurches forward and does just that, pressing their mouth together in a greedy kiss that’s too much teeth for a couple of seconds. Stiles buries his fingers in the soft curls, pulling Isaac down and closer to him.

That’s all it takes to get Isaac right back where he left off. His hands are on his ass almost immediately. Kneading. Pressing and grinding their dicks together in a delicious way.

But he’s really not in the mood to drag this out any longer. “Fuck me,” Stiles whispers, about ready to beg him. He hasn’t needed anyone inside of him as desperately since the first time he slept with Brett – and the time after that, when they finally solidified their mating bond. The first month after the mating bite, Stiles had more sex than other people have in their whole lifetime.

Isaac breaks the kiss and pushes Stiles onto his back, his mouth hot on his neck and shoulders and chest as he kisses his way down Stiles body, nipping his skin but never risking leaving a mark. He not deterred by Stiles’ fingers in his hair or nudging Brett’s foot with his elbow. His chin brushes against his dick, and his stupid curls tickling the inside of his thigh make Stiles whine.

“Please,” he begs, tugging in Isaac’s hair. “Please, please, please.”

Isaac chuckles.

Hot breath hits the wet spot on Stiles’ boxers. The sensation makes him nearly jump out of his skin.

But Isaac doesn’t tease him any longer. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of Stiles’ boxer briefs and pulls them down, tossing them into the corner of the room. As Isaac crawls back between Stiles’ legs, his gaze jumps from Stiles’ dick, to his face before he seemingly locks eyes with Brett.

There’s a new tension in the room, and suddenly, Stiles realizes that he’s in bed between two very lethal werewolves. This whole thing stands and falls with everyone being on board with everything that might happen – even someone stopping this.

It really shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. Right now, if Brett were to allow it, Stiles would happily be fucked by them at the same time. That would certainly do wonders for the pack bond. Stiles shudders at the thought, clenching around nothing. He really needs someone to fuck him in the next couple of minutes, or he will do it himself. Stiles cranes his neck, looking up at Brett. His face is near unreadable, eyes ever so slightly narrowed – like it hits him only now what’s about to happen.

“Please,” Stiles whines, reaching a hand back. Awkwardly, he pats Brett’s thigh, fingers ghosting over his sweatpants until he’s able to palm his dick.

The moment he does, Brett’s fingers curl around his wrist in an iron grip. “I think I said no, didn’t I?” Oh, that’s his alpha voice. “Get on your hands and knees.”

Although he doesn’t look at him, Stiles knows this command is directed at him. But he can do that. He can totally do that if it means Isaac can fuck him in the very, very near future. Stiles rolls onto his stomach and hoists himself onto his hands and knees. Today isn’t about intimacy, not really. This is happening to forge a connection, to force Isaac to stop holding back.

Brett tosses Isaac a condom and locks eyes with Stiles. His fingers run over Stiles’ cheek, making him shudder with the touch alone. Brett smirks as he presses his thumb against Stiles’ bottom lip.

Almost out of instinct, Stiles pokes it with his tongue.

“He’s ready,” Brett’s voice is nothing more than a whisper. “You can fuck him.”

That seems to be all the permission Isaac needs. He grabs Stiles’ ass, spreading him open, and for a few seconds, nothing else happen.

Stiles can feel heat creep into his cheek at the thought of Isaac just staring at his ass – a thought that’s flying out the window when Isaac’s dick finally joins the fun. He grinds against him, hellbent on teasing Stiles just a little longer. Clenching his teeth, Stiles shoots him a look over his shoulder. “Isaac,” he snaps, “if you don’t-”

The press of Isaac’ dick against his rim cuts him off. “I’m sorry?” His voice is innocent sweet, almost like he isn’t on the verge of fucking him. “You were saying?” He pushes in, and they both moan loudly.

Stiles rocks his hips back, needing all of Isaac inside of him right fucking now. He curses under his breath, curling his fingers into the sheets. Isaac’s fingers dig into his skin, and a part of Stiles hopes they’re going to leave little marks on his body; something to remember this by, so when he wakes up in the morning, he knows this wasn’t some kind of fever dream. Funny, how he’s never realized how much he wanted to sleep with Isaac until now. At this point, he doesn’t even care if it’s their pack bond or his own desire. Does Isaac feel it too? Stiles wants to know, but he’s not going to ask with Brett right there.

That feels like crossing a line.

Then again, Brett can probably smell it on him; how desperate he is for another guy’s dick. Guilt churns in his stomach as the feeling of betrayal joins his desire.

Brett kisses his forehead, so strangely gentle. “Relax, my love. You’re perfect.”

The words ricochet through him, and he whines softly. Stiles is torn between wanting Isaac to fuck him into the sheets and his need for Brett, his mate. Letting out a breath, Stiles lowers himself onto his forearms and leans his cheek against Brett’s thigh. As Isaac continues to sink into him, inch by torturous inch. It’s so fucking slow, Stiles wants to scream.

But when he finally, finally buried fully inside him, Isaac kisses his shoulder blades, first left than right. “Sorry,” his words are cool against Stiles’ skin, “sorry, this is... a lot.” So, he does feel it too. Good to know.

“I get it.” Stiles pushes himself up on his hands again and looks at Isaac over his shoulder. The werewolf looks utterly wrecked already, and Stiles wonders if it feels even more intense for him. It wouldn’t be the first time. Werewolves do have that benefit. “But I really-” Stiles grinds against Isaac, trying to get his point across “-need you to move.”

Preferably now.

Isaac doesn’t move immediately. Yet again, his gaze snaps to Brett. It’s a silent question for something.

“Oh,” Brett chuckles, running his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “He can take it.”

Before Stiles can even ask what he’s talking about, Isaac pulls back and snaps his hips forward. Stiles moans, hardly recovering from the first thrust before Isaac has found his rhythm. Hard. Fast. Barely holding back.

Stiles loves it. Maybe a little too much. There is something burning in his veins, something he’s never quite felt before — not like this, at least. Stiles remembers the addictive high of the mating bond, the strange warmth cocooning him for weeks after. If this is anything like this, this will have some interesting consequences.

But now, it’s probably too late to think about those.

It’s hard to think in general — at least about anything but Isaac trying his very best to fuck his brains out. If he keeps this up, nailing his prostate more often than not, Isaac might actually be successful a lot faster than Stiles would like to admit.

Cursing and moaning, usually at the same time, Stiles is trying to match Isaac’s rhythm; something that’s mostly impossible by how hard Isaac’s fingers dig into his skin. He’s taking over his body, claiming him for as long as Brett lets him — most likely chasing the same insane sensation that is drowning every corner of Stiles’ soul.

A soft moan reaches his ears.

Brett.

Stiles raises his head, nearly choking on air as he spots Brett’s fingers tight around his own dick. It shouldn’t be hot — it fucking shouldn’t. Brett shouldn’t be so turned on by Stiles fucking somebody else, and Stiles’ brain shouldn’t nearly short-circuit learning that Brett is getting off to it.

But damn, it’s one of the hottest things he’s seen.

Stiles reaches for Brett, curling his fingers into his blonde hair and crashes their mouths together. Finally, finally, Brett caves and kisses him back — and when Brett’s tongue brushes against his, and Isaac is still pounding into him just right, something snaps into place without any further warning. Stiles’ whole body stiffens as his orgasm slams into him without any warning – pleasure coursing through him like a tidal wave. He’s dimly aware of cursing against Brett’s mouth. Only a heartbeat later, Isaac’s weight comes crashing down on him, body shaking, and dick pulsing still deep inside of him.

Nobody ever told him that a pack bond snapping into place during sex almost rivals a mating bond.

Stiles blinks his eyes open, afterglow still lapping at his body, as hands are cupping his jaw and cheek. A shudder runs through Stiles’ body, his brain still too foggy to understand a single word that’s coming out of Brett’s mouth. It takes a hot minute until he connects the sounds to the movement of his lips. “Look at you,” Brett whispers, thumbs brushing over Stiles’ cheekbones, “so perfect.”

Isaac makes a quiet sound in the back of his throat then pushes himself u and pulls out only to collapse onto the bed right next to them again, spent and clearly deep in his afterglow. A sheen of sweat makes his curls stick to his forehead. Even looking as boneless as Stiles feels, Isaac is still unfairly attractive.

Never in his life has a pack bond snapping into place felt like that, and Stiles isn’t entirely sure if it was supposed to be this intense. He doesn’t get the chance to ask either because Brett is kissing him like a drowning person and pulling him closer.

Stiles’ heart is pounding in his chest, his body craving Brett as much as it’s pleading to slow down, to give him a chance to get over all that stimulation. “Wait,” he mutters into the kiss. “Hold on, give me-”

But Brett grabs his waist, whispering, “sorry, sorry.” as if he’s actively hurting him, or doing something Stiles isn’t down for.

Yes, Stiles would love to get a few seconds to catch his breath, and for everything to stop feeling like it’s too much. His nerves are on high alert, as if the pack bond snapping into place cranked his sensitivity up to a hundred. Still, he can tell that Brett isn’t entirely in control right now. He’s warned him about it, about his wolf’s need to reclaim, to drown Stiles in his scent again, to scrub Isaac away. There’s no anger in Brett’s touch, just the urgent need to fuck him that took over his entire body. Stiles knows the difference. They’ve had angry sex countless of times.

This isn’t it.

Brett’s fingers run over skin almost apologetically as he turns Stiles around, even chuckling softly as Stiles’ legs refuse to cooperate for a few seconds. Not that he needs them. Brett holds him with one hand, angling him in a way that makes it comfortable to lean against his chest. He lowers Stiles down until the tip of his dick is pressing against his hole. Despite having just been thoroughly fucked �� or maybe because of it – Brett pushing in comes with an uncomfortable stretch.

Stiles squeeze his eyes shut. “Please,” he mutters, turning his head to speak against Brett’s throat. “Slow down. For me?” For them, more likely. Because Stiles wants it to be good for Brett as well. It should be more than just a fuck out of werewolf-principle.

The disapproving rumble is already answer enough, but Brett drives his point home by snapping his hips up and pulling Stiles fully onto his lap.

Stiles yelps then punches Brett’s thigh. “Fuck you.”

Brett sneaks his arms around his waist and kisses his jaw and cheek. “Sorry,” he whispers again. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No.” Stiles takes a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. He’s not entirely sure if this is one of the hottest things that happened to him, or if he wants to snap at Brett for being so fucking impatient. But he’s been warned. Still, he kind of expected to be pushed into the pillows and fucked.

Hard.

But he’s also not complaining. It’s beautifully intimate, the way Brett is slowly grinding against his ass. His arms are tight around him, fingers teasing his skin — and the way his dick is brushing up against his prostate is driving him slowly insane. As much as he wouldn’t have minded for Brett to make sure Stiles remembers who he belongs to, this is too good.

Brett rocks up into him, arms tightening. His breathing is shallow, fast, and Stiles can tell he’s close to his orgasm. “Babe, I need-” Brett cuts himself off, gasping into Stiles’ ear in a way that sends hot tingles down his body. “Relax, babe. Please.” He sounds way too desperate, too needy.

This is the hottest thing Stiles has ever heard.

He presses against Brett, rolling his hips, grinding down. Part of him wants to speed it up, wants Brett to cum so Stiles can hit the mattress and fall asleep. Another part of him would love to stay like this forever, wrapped up in this beautiful heat with Brett deep inside him — maybe even knotting him.

No sooner has the thought crossed his mind when he can feel Brett’s knot press against his rim. “Fuck,” he curses softly.

“I’m sorry.” Brett’s hot breath ghosts over his skin, thumb tracing invisible lines under his belly button.

Stiles really wants to tell him to shut up. There’s no reason to apologize. To be fair, Stiles should’ve probably expected this. It’s stupid he didn’t, but sometimes it’s so easy to forget that Brett is very much an alpha werewolf who is driven by his own instincts. He’s too Zen for his own good almost all the time. His words, however, leave his brain before he’s even got the chance to open his mouth as Isaac moves between his legs.

The grin on his lips speaks volumes, and he doesn’t hesitate. His lips wrap around Stiles’ dick in an instant.

The sensation alone nearly makes his brain melt.

Stiles lets his head fall back, shuddering and moaning. He curls his fingers into the sheets as his body struggles to figure out if it wants to press against Brett or thrust into the heat of Isaac’s mouth. This is nothing like using a sex toy when Brett sucks him off. This feels like fucking heaven. His dick is hard again, and when it hits the tip of Isaac’s throat and Brett’s knot finally slips in, he nearly combusts.

Stiles’ vision whites out for some glorious seconds. He arches his back, feeling Brett’s arms tighten even further around him as his hips move back and forth almost helplessly – locked into place by Isaac’s mouth working around him, and Brett’s dick pulsing deep inside him as he rides out his own orgasm. He cannot remember ever cumming this hard – or this fast for that matter – for a second time.

His body, however, goes from feeling absolutely amazing to too much in about two seconds. Hissing softly, Stiles curls his fingers into Isaac’s hair and pulls him off.

Isaac licks his lips, studying his face for a few seconds, before he leans up and kisses him. It’s a bold move, doing it with Brett not only still buried inside him, but also with his head right next to them.

Brett merely chuckles, either too high from his own orgasm or actually okay with this.

Sighing, Stiles parts his lips. He shudders at the taste of himself on Isaac’s tongue. If he’s honest, he didn’t know what to expect from this night, but it certainly wasn’t this. It was so much better than he could have imagined – and part of him wouldn’t mind doing it again. But not tonight or tomorrow, or even this week. He’s too fucking tired, his body painless and numb because of whatever werewolf magic Brett’s knot is working on him. He barely feels the stretch or pressure. Stiles is pretty sure his body is tricked into enjoying the sensation of being this full by some supernatural bullshit, but he doesn’t particularly mind.

When Isaac breaks the kiss, Stiles doesn’t bother to open his eyes. He leans back, pressing his face against Brett’s neck ready to pass out.

“I love you,” Brett whispers. Stiles hums in response.

-------

#briles #stisaac #stiles stilinski #brett talbot #isaac lahey #teen wolf #kinktober 2023 #*tv:teen wolf #*w:kinktober2023 #*w:complete #*s:briles #*s:stisaac

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bellybounce · 1 year ago

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Day 4 - "Marshmallows"

Sterek unintentional weight gain!

This is day 4 of @fatguarddog's feedist kinktober. I find it quite hard to stick to timelines with these things so just moving through the prompt list at my own pace!

Comments appreciated and prompts welcome in my DMs

Prompt; Marshmallows

Stiles let out a groan of frustration, pushing his hands into his fleshy stomach and sucking in so that he could actually see the red flashing numbers that had been half blocked by his middle. Really, the fact that he had ballooned that much should have been an indicator of how much he had gained, and yet when the scales finally settled on a mocking 263 pounds, his mouth dropped in shock.

He pinched at his flabby belly, the pale flesh sticking out in front of him like he was 6 months pregnant, bloated even when he’d not even eaten breakfast yet. If that wasn’t bad enough, his belly had taken the form of a B, sinking in deep at his belly button before protruding back outwards even further than his top half and had begun to sag over his underwear, half covering his crotch. He stepped backwards off the scale, watching as his belly wobbled and moved independently to him. As he walked towards the bedroom he was all too aware of the fact that his thighs had backed on the pounds too, and were now rubbing so much that he had developed a slight waddle to accommodate it.

In the bedroom he forgo his jeans - they had been a nightmare to pull off the night before, an event which had led to this spontaneous weigh in - and stuffed himself into sweatpants that he chose to ignore were also feeling a bit tight around the waist. He had no substitutes, however, for his t-shirts and had to settle for a very hugging white one that cupped his fatty chest and clung to every roll around his middle. He tried his best to pull the sweatpants as high as they world go in order to roll the shirt into it but the second he moved he felt it inch upwards and expose a sliver of pale flesh,

Stiles studied himself in the mirror. Every single calorie he had stuffed into his face was evident on his body. He turned sideways, smoothing his shirt down and cupping his stomach in both hands as if it were a baby bump, and marvelled at how massive he actually was. As if reading his thoughts, two muscular arms appeared and wrapped themselves around him, resting over his own.

“Boy or girl?” Derek teased, his hands rubbing up and down Stiles’ belly soothingly.

“Fuck off,” Stiles groaned burying his head in his hands whilst Derek held his belly. “I’ve gotten fat, Derek.”

Derek hummed in agreement, moving his hands to the overhang of his stomach and holding the girthy weight of it in his hands, Stiles signed in relief as the weight was no longer dragging him down. His back had started aching a lot these past few months as his weight creeped up and Derek had figured out on his own that holding Stiles’ stomach eased the pressure. It was embarrassing but it also made Stiles feel loved.

“You’re not disagreeing,” Stiles mumbled into his hands.

Derek let go of Stiles’ stomach causing him to puff out a breath as it dropped down unexpectedly. Derek turned him in his arm, wrapping them around his shoulders and pulling him flush against him, Stiles’ boulder of a stomach pushing against Derek’s lean abdomen. “l’m not going to lie to you,” Derek ran his hands soothingly up and down his back, “you know you’ve gained some weight, what does me telling you otherwise do?”

“I’m all ugly and gross and jiggly,” Stiles muttered, trying to crowd more into Derek’s space but being stopped by his belly. “I’ve gained over 100 lbs since High School.”

“You’re my mate, Stiles, I’ll love you wherever you’re 100 pounds or 500 pounds,” Derek told him, pulling him closer and placing a kiss on his hairline. “But, I want you to be happy, so if you feel you need to lose some weight then that’s what we’ll do.”

Stiles lasted 3 days of sadly poking at salad leaves and grilled chicken, dreaming of smokey bacon burgers and a late night taco bell drive through visit and breaking out the Hale family recipe book to make those chewy peanut butter cookies before he was struck by an amazing idea. Four hours later he came through the door with a whirlwind of bags that he dumped in the kitchen before finding Derek in the living room.

“You’ve been gone a while,” he stated, opening his arm, welcoming Stiles into a hug. Stiles didn’t hesitate and dropped down onto the space, the couch groaning with the sudden added weight matching Stiles’ groan as he belly slapped against his thighs. Instinctively, Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles’ middle, his hand resting on the swollen ball. Stiles watched Derek’s hand absentmindedly rubbing circles into Stiles’ tight skin and felt a shot of excitement and warm up his spine. He wasn’t that big, was he? Maybe he was fine as he was? He had upgraded his clothes, going two sizes bigger - “They need to be bigger Derek! How do you expect me to work out in such tight clothes, I need to be comfortable!” - and now he didn’t look as big. Maybe it was the clothes fault! This train of thought was combated by the sight of his belly bulging out onto his thighs; it was that big.

“I’ve had an idea,” Stiles told Derek firmly. “Marshmallows!”

“Marshmallows?” Derek repeated, sounded confused.

“Marshmallows,” Stiles nodded in confirmation. “They basically have zero calories, Derek. That way I can still have a sweet treat whilst not eating anything fatty. I’ll be much more motivated to lose weight if I can still eat things that aren’t classed as rabbit food.”

And maybe this plan wouldn’t have been too bad of an idea if Stiles had simply stuck to a bag of marshmallows every now and then. Instead, however, he seemed to have added marshmallows to every meal, dosaging himself with far more sugar than he had consumed when he wasn’t on a diet . Marshmallow cereal for breakfast in the morning - “It’s fine Derek, it says it contains fibre” -, Marshmallow fluff slathered onto half a dozen pieces of toast for lunch - “Marshmallows hardly have any calories, Derek, so really it’s only a couple hundred calories for the bread” - an Thanksgiving style Sweet Potato casserole topped with a bag of marshmallows every evening to pair with his chicken. As if that wasn’t enough, he would constantly be snacking on candy bars filled with the sticky filling, would keep bags of them in his desk drawer to eat as he worked, and would make himself trays full of s’mores for a midnight snack.

Any concerns raised about the validity of this “diet” was met with a scoff. “I googled it - there’s on average 23 calories in a marshmallow. I could eat 100 a day and only just hit my intake requirements,” he proudly told Scott after their monthly pack meeting, conveniently ignoring that a) he ate at least 100 with his dinner last night and b) the graham crackers he had slapped them between held significant calories in their own right.

6 weeks into this new diet and Stiles seemed to be ballooning by the day. Derek was very well versed in every inch of Stiles’ body and could tell that the skin was becoming more taunt, that there was more to grab hold of at night, that his face was looking more puffy as the weeks moved on. Stiles, however, seemed none the wiser, completely ignoring that he wasn’t having to pull the drawstrings on his sweats as far anymore. Instead, he stood in front of their bathroom mirror shirtless, admiring himself from different angles.

“I think it’s starting to work, you know,” he declared, holding his belly in his hands and jiggling it. Derek watched on in amusement, having witnessed this dance many times, each time Stiles having an excuse as to why it definitely wasn’t working.

“Okay, so i’m a bit bloated at the moment, but i’ve only just eaten,” - he’d had a cookie pizza that had pepperoni shaped marshmallows on top for dessert - “but my pants still fit as good as the day i bought them!” - the pants no longer needed their drawstring to fit snugly, and had also “absolutely, definitely been shrunk in last weekend's wash.”

“You look good, babe,” Derek nodded along, getting ready for bed. “You coming?”

“Yeah, yeah, let me just get a few chocolate bars in case we get snacky,” Stiles retreated downstairs only to return 5 minutes later, puffing as he walked, the stairs taking their toll on him as he reached the top and made his way into the bedroom, his waddle becoming more prominent. He threw himself on the bed with a huff, the mattress bouncing under him and he hurried under the covers.

“You alright?” Derek asked, his hearing picking up on the fast heartbeat in his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, man,” he waved him off, resting his arms either side of him above the covers, pulling the sheets tight against his swollen middle. “Just tired, nothing to worry about.”

The rest of the pack had voiced their concerns to him about this diet, how it clearly wasn’t working and that Stiles was packing on more weight now than he ever had whilst passively gaining. Derek simply shrugged and stayed silent. Stiles was happy, he was confident and he was still as attractive to Derek as he was their first night together, what he chose to do with his body wasn’t Derek’s business. He enjoyed exploding Stiles’ body when they were in bed together, what did it matter if there was more of it to hold? All his previous relationships had been filled with sharp bones and cold bodies but with Stiles, Derek found comfort in the heavy weight resting on his chest as he slept, the warmth of his skin melting into Derek.

It took another month for all of this to come to a head. Stiles had continued to pack on the pounds as the days went on until, finally 10 weeks after the start of the infamous diet, Derek watched in amusement as he tried to pull himself out of bed after a particularly large midnight stuffing .

“Ughhhh!” Stiles puffed, having to rock himself a few times to get enough momentum to roll onto his side and drop his legs to the floor. He wrapped one arm around his stomach, that was still bloated and stuffed from last night, to hold it in place before his other arm held his weight, pushing him upwards. His arm shook underneath his frame before giving in and he collapsed backwards onto the bed.

Derek stifled a laugh and came to stand over him. Flat on his back, his mountain of a stomach swelled like a beach ball over him, pinning him to the bed. He held out both arms to Derek who pulled him to his feet effortlessly with his supernatural strength.

Once on his feet, Stiles looked down at his stomach in thought. “Maybe I should weigh myself, just to make sure i’m on track,” he sounded unsure so Derek nodded and gestured for him to lead the way. Derek could have gone first, but this allowed him to enjoy the view as Stiles waddled, his legs further apart than 3 months ago. His back was bowed slightly, pushing his stomach out further as it led the way, the bottom flabby apron section swinging as he moved.

Standing in front of the scales, Stiles took a deep breath before mounting the device, the plastic creaking underneath his pudgy toes. Derek could see the cloud that Stiles had been living in these past few months fading away, could see in his face how he could no longer convince himself that this diet was a good idea. “You’re going to have to look,”Stiles mumbled, “I'm too big.”

Derek stepped around Stiles and glanced down, excitement burning through his throat as he smiled slightly, “306.”

“WHAT!” Stiles head shot up, his eyes filled with panic, “I’ve gained almost 50 pounds!” He stepped back from the scale, sitting himself on the edge of the bathtub, staring down at his massive girth. It seemed as if most of the 50 had gone to his magnificent belly, inflating it to the point where it covered nearly half of his thighs.

Sensing it was now or never, Derek took to his knees in front of Stiles, spreading his legs apart so he could crowd into his space. He grabbed the pale skin between his hands and pressed his lips to the belly. He could feel the warmth of the tight skin against his mouth, and could hear the light gurglings below the surface.

He began peppering kisses along the flesh, punctuating his words with his lips. “Stiles you’re the most” kiss “handsome” kiss “loving” kiss “beautiful” kiss “mate I could ask for.” His fingers digged into the pudge, his thumb rubbing smooth circles into the tender flesh. He nuzzled it with his nose, feeling Stiles’ hand find his hair and begin playing with the strands.

“Derek,” Stiles began but Derek shushed him, pulling back to look him in the eyes. He pushed himself up against Stiles' middle, feeling it squish between them.

“No, just listen,” Derek insisted. Whilst his eyes looked at Stiles, his hands stayed on his stomach. “You were so small when we first met, every time there was a new threat I was convinced you were going to snap in two. You were always so cold to touch and never relaxed. Now, you feel safe, you feel warm, I can feel you next to me in my sleep, I know you’re there. You’re my mate, Stiles, and I want you to be safe and happy and secure.”

“I don’t want you to leave me,” Stiles mumbled, pulling Derek into his chest, hands still wrapped in his hair.

“Stiles, be honest - are you losing weight for yourself, or for me?” Derek asked.

Stiles was silent for a beat, his chest rising and falling against Derek’s head before he nodded. “I look at all the other people you’ve dated, and I look at you and I wonder what must people think when they see us together? And then I get sad and end up eating my feelings which starts the cycle all over again. It’s nice, not caring about whether an extra slice of pizza is going to tip me over the edge and add another pound, but it’s even nicer coming home to you every night.”

Derek stood, pulling Stiles up with him before sitting in his place. He tugged Stiles forward, allowing him to straddle his lap, immediately feeling secure feeling the weight of him pressing on his legs.

“You’re happy and you’re safe. I need to feel like my mate is safe and protected, and you are. That’s all that matters to me.” With Stiles’ arms around his neck securing him in place, he let go of his waist to hold his stomach again. It had invaded the space, pushing against Derek but being so large that it didn’t even allow Stiles and himself to be face to face. “You’re so attractive to me.”

“You into this, sourwolf?” Stiles grinned, wiggling so that his belly jiggled in Defek’s hold. Always one to lighten the mood when things got a bit too serious, Stiles threw his head back in an exaggerated sigh before declaring “well I suppose I can put my diet on hold if it means you can get off easily.” Derek rolled his eyes but grinned all the same, leaving forward to plant a kiss on Stiles’ puffy cheek. “If I had known you were this kinky I would have hit the 300 pound mark months ago!”

“Stiles,” Derek warned.

“I know, I know,” Stiles mumbled, resting a hand on Derek’s chest, tracing his finger up and down. “I don’t mind being bigger, like you said, I feel more sturdy and myself, more confident. If you’re okay with it then so am I.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,”Stiles waggled his eyebrows at Derek. “Now, you kinky bastard, how about we go explore all 300 pounds of me?”

This is also on Ao3 if you could go show it some love over there! https://archiveofourown.org/works/51231895

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf weight gain #weight gain fiction #weight gain #belly kink #obese belly #belly kisses #fat belly #feederism kink #feedist kinktober 2023 #fat stiles

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musicerrorfics · 4 months ago

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Sorry for the delay, life got a little crazy. So here's a double release.

Watching His Wolf:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59664856

And Hot For Teacher:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59681014

#fanfic #fanfiction #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #chris argent #kinktober

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tamerofpickles · 1 year ago

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His Father's Wingman: The First Date

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Prompt Filled: Cam Show (Day 13 of Notsolany’s Teen Wolf Kinktober)

Ship: Stiles/Sheriff/OFC

Summary: Sheriff Stilinski is finally trying to date again, but he is rusty from being a single dad for so long and not comfortable with how technology has changed things. His video first date with a woman he liked was going disastrously when Stiles accidentally interrupted them. Stiles decides to play wingman, and both are surprised by how far they are willing to go to impress a woman.

Tags: First Date, Online Dating, Stripping, Frottage, Father/Son Incest

Rating: E

AO3 (2374 words)

#teen wolf #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #stiles stilinski #sheriff stilinski #stilinskicest

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

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boo! surprise bitches! i'm doing kinktober this year! finally doing it! bet you didn't see that one coming, did you hehe 🕸

there is a good mix of both short and long stories coming your way throughout this (and i will also still occasionally post other fics this month that aren't related to this). also, a handful of these fics are darker in nature, thought it was fitting for halloween, so remember to read the warnings, if there's something that's not for you then please, as always, be kind to yourself and don't read the story.

masterlist | join my taglist

day one | sore

stepbro!sirius black x cheerleader!reader + dubcon massage

day two | don't smile

steve rogers + throat fucking + size kink

day three | stuffed

devil!eddie munson & angel!steve harrington + tentecles + double penetration in one hole

day four | a little fashion show

best friend!stiles stilinski + lingerie

day five | stay still

peter parker + bondage

day six | hold up, let me record this

jj maybank + tittyfucking + sextape

day seven | the palace guards

guards!poly!marauders x princess!reader + secrets relationship

day eight | it’s practically like we’re down there with them

mob boss!bucky barnes + exhibitionism

day nine | keep that pretty mouth shut

tommy shelby + keep quiet quickie

day ten | I couldn’t find it in me to wake you

poe dameron + somno thigh fucking

day eleven | I just want you a little longer all to myself

matt murdock + secret office sex

day twelve | nothing more than a toy

rafe cameron + using you like a toy to masturbate with

day thirteen | I still got a few rounds left in me

boxer!steve rogers + bathtub sex

day fourteen | open your fucking mouth

dark!wild west cowboy!joel miller + gun kink

day fifteen | tiny

miguel o'hara x fairy!reader + extreme size difference

day sixteen | the wall between us

cult member!steve harrington + fem glory hole + breeding

day seventeen | be a rebel, be bad, stay here and cuddle with me

spencer reid + aftercare

day eighteen | pleasant pile of pillows

brother's best friend!james potter + pillow humping

day nineteen | ring ring

sam winchester x reader x bf!dean winchester + phone sex + cheating

day twenty | window

perv!neighbour!billy russo + voyeurism

day twenty-one | say yes

fiancé!bruce wayne + possessiveness

day twenty-two | i can think of something better than that

bucky barnes + anal

day twenty-three | double check

dark!professor!ben solo + power imbalance + manipulation

day twenty-four | maroon

vampire!remus lupin + biting + blood kink

day twenty-five | i want you

pirate captain!miguel o'hara + sex as payment

day twenty-six | teamwork

pro football team!avengers (bf!steve rogers, bucky barnes, pietro maximoff, clint barton, sam wilson, tony stark, thor odinson) + gangbang

day twenty-seven | my little flower

din djarin + fantasy au + cockwarming

day twenty-eight | hysteria

doctor!aleksander morozova x hysteria patient!reader + historical au + fuck machine

day twenty-nine | can't fight the moonlight

werewolf!bucky barnes x gf!reader + predator/prey + monsterfucking

day thirty | magical mimic

eddie munson x witch!reader + magical mutual masturbation

day thirty-one | you can’t put it in

stepbro!peter parker + halloween pussyjob

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scribesoflex · 1 year ago

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kinktober ‘23 — 🎃

a/n; im nervous for kinktober but also excited bc if i do it…then you guys will be well fed and I won’t need to write during break and stuff 🤗 also it’s fun to write little works and oneshots based around a kink or scenario instead of having to write a whole story with like…plot 💀 anyways!!! happy spooky season 👻‼️ taglist is now closed…but if you still want to keep up with my kinktober celebration, check back on this masterlist!! all fics will be linked as they are posted 😋 u can also find all fics by searching the tag “— kinktober ‘23 🎃” on my page.

warnings; smut, angst, strong sexual themes, violent sexual scenarios, dark romance themes, all x fem!reader.

characters; ethan landry, jake sully, stiles stilinski, rafe cameron, tobias eaton/four, bruce wayne, finnick o’dair.

d-1 ; ethan landry x breeding kink (drabble)

d-2 ; stiles stilinski x somnophilia (oneshot)

d-3 ; bruce wayne x pain kink (drabble)

d-4 ; rafe cameron x size kink (oneshot)

d-5 ; jake sully x mirror sex (drabble)

d-6 ; finnick o’dair x pussy drunk (drabble)

d-7 ; four x dumbification (oneshot)

d-8 ; rafe cameron x exhibitionism (oneshot)

d-9 ; stiles stilinski x over stimulation (drabble)

d-10 ; jake sully x cunnilingus (drabble)

d-11 ; bruce wayne x age gap (drabble)

d-12 ; stiles stilinski x reverse age gap (drabble)

d-13 ; ethan landry x step sis (oneshot)

d-14 ; four x wax play (drabble)

d-15 ; finnick o’dair x submisson (drabble)

break from 16th through 20th 🎃

d-21 ; ethan landry x creampie (oneshot)

d-22 ; stiles stilinski x expeditionism (drabble)

d-23 ; jake sully x sensation play (drabble)

d-24 ; four x bondage (drabble)

d-25 ; bruce wayne x phone sex (drabble)

d-26 ; rafe cameron x sex tape (oneshot)

d-27 ; finnick o’dair x dub con (drabble)

d-28 ; four x breath play (drabble)

d-29 ; stiles stilinski x dacryphilia (oneshot)

d-30 ; bruce wayne x fear play (drabble)

d-31 ; mystery fic!?

#ethan landry smut #stiles stilinski smut #finnick odair smut #jake sully smut #rafe cameron smut #bruce wayne smut #tobias eaton smut #kinktober

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starboye · 5 months ago

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2024 Kinktober List

October 1st- Older!Captain Price fucking femboy!younger!male reader

October 2nd- Rafe Cameron disciplining male reader because you were acting all bratty at one of his parties

October 3rd- Drew Starkey making male reader his bitch and dominating him after having a hard day

October 4th- Nate Jacobs choking male reader while fucking him

October 5th- Stiles Stilinski rough fucking ftm!male reader and talking about how much he want you to get pregnant

October 6th- Gojo Saturo and male reader role playing you as the damsel in distress and gojo saving you and dicking you down as a prize

October 7th- Simon Riley breeding male reader over and over till you're filled with his delicious cum

October 8th- Matt Sturniolo having a praise kink and top!male reader using that to your advantage throughout sex

October 9th- Tom Holland edging male reader so much

October 10th- Chris Sturniolo fucking you till your an incoherent mess in front of a mirror

October 11th- Perter Parker orgasm denial from top!male reader

More coming soon...

#star talks #x male reader #gay smut #x male smut #x male y/n #x male #bottom male reader #gay #male reader #top male reader #kinktober

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honestlydarkprincess · 1 year ago

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make me, break me

stiles x derek || rating: explicit || wc: 4.9k

“You know what I think you need, Derek?” Stiles said lowly, his tone one Derek had never heard from him.

“What?” Derek felt breathless. He didn’t know what Stiles was about to say but he felt tense in a new way, a better way. He was eager for Stiles’ next words.

“I think you need to get fucked.”

The words hung between them and Derek couldn’t breathe. What exactly did Stiles just say?

Or, the one where Stiles has the perfect idea on how to help a very stressed Derek.

read on ao3

#jess does kinktober #jess.writes #jess.fics #sterek #sterek fic #sterekfic #derek x stiles #stiles x derek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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usermischief · 1 year ago

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♞Pairing: Steo ♞Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken ♞Tags/Warnings: explicit sexual content, mentions of alcohol ♞Words: 3229 ♞Kinktober 2023 - Swallowing

ao3

***

Stiles weaves through the crowd, feeling strangely at ease between so many strangers. As much as ghosts enjoy to be close to the living, a gathering like this would be too much for the strongest of them. Tara, too, decided to hang back, clearly not particularly thrilled about the amount of people inside. It looks like there are at least a hundred people who decided to attend the party. Jackson is going to be so awfully pleased with himself. He was the one who pushed Stiles to use his connections so they could have a party at this abandoned mall — well, rather so Jackson could have a party here because Stiles doesn’t know a single person aside from his friends. Jackson bought the alcohol and paid for the venue, and Stiles hired a few people — a couple of bartenders, security, and students working the cloakroom. He also set the rules; no cameras, no phones, something Liam and Mason accepted only begrudgingly.

It’s not a rule he set up because Stiles didn’t want his face all over social media. The owner of this mall specifically asked that they don’t go around advertising it because he’s struggling with trespassers as it is. Stiles is the last person to complain about that, if he’s entirely honest. This is supposed to be a party, nobody needs to be on their phone the whole time.

“Stiles!” Lydia’s voice cuts through the music, and Stiles cranes his head to the left.

He’s not been around while they were preparing the mall for the party, but he’s not at all surprised to find Lydia waving at him from the gallery above. It looks like the ground floor has been turned into the dance zone with a bar at the side, while the seating areas have been moved upstairs. It’s a good idea since the whole ground floor is exposed from the next level. Climbing up the non-working escalators, however, is another adventure in his tight jeans. Wearing these really is an absolutely terrible idea.

“Is that Lydia?” Theo calls from behind him.

“Yeah.”

“Good, I’ve got to thank her.”

Stiles shuffles off the escalator and shoots Theo a confused look. “Why?” They don’t know each other, after all, and Stiles is the one who dragged Theo and the other two here. It’s not like he’s got anything to thank her for.

“For your jeans.” Theo steps closer, so close, in fact, that Stiles can feel his warm breath on his neck. “Your ass looks phenomenal.”

At this point, Stiles doesn’t even know why he’s bothering to ask Theo anything. Ignoring the heat creeping up his neck, he starts walking again — otherwise he might be tempted to shove the guy back down the escalator.

“Stilinski, nice jeans.” Jackson raises his brows with an almost appreciating smirk. Although his bisexuality came less of a surprise after the many comments he made about guys and girls, Stiles is still not entirely sure what’s more of a shock – the supernatural, or the fact that Jackson wanted to get some experience with him. He very much gets why Jackson didn’t want to sleep with his best friend – Stiles is too close to Lydia to want to have sex with her – but that doesn’t mean he expected to make the top of Jackson’s list; or that he actually approached him while being engaged to Lydia.

Stiles scrunches up his face. “I’m never going to wear tight jeans again.”

“Oh, please.” Lydia rushes to his side and hugs him. Her giggle makes it abundantly clear that she’s had more than once cocktail already. “You look amazing.” Her eyes roam over his face, probably checking if his makeup is still fully intact.

Theo clears his throat behind him.

“Right.” Stiles gestures at him dismissively. “That’s Theo.”

Lydia’s mouth curves into an oh.

Yeah, ‘oh’ probably sums it up the best. Stiles doesn’t stick around for any more introductions. Lydia knows exactly who Theo is after he cussed him out for hours in end; that probably means Jackson is very aware as well. The two haven’t kept anything secret between them ever since they got back together. That’s why Lydia knew Jackson wanted to sleep with Stiles before Stiles has been made aware of that. He still can’t believe he agreed to that. While it wasn’t a threesome – because he very much drew the line in the sand at sleeping with Lydia – they negotiated him down to letting her be in the room. He’s not sure he’d like to repeat that anytime soon; not that sex with Jackson was bad, but Lydia watching him made him feel decidedly weird.

Kira nearly crushes him with her hug, pulling him out of his thoughts effectively, before launching into how she’s planning to move to LA like ‘the rest of them’. It’s not the first time he heard about that, so Stiles assumes the pack is planning to locate to LA as well. Which is fine and all, by moving away he intended to bury his past.

Danny shakes his hand. “I’m going to get drinks.”

Unsurprisingly, Jackson made sure they’re having a bar close to their VIP area. Good, because Stiles isn’t in the mood to go up and down those escalators more than he needs to — not in these jeans.

He drops onto a chair next to Isaac, who ruffles his hair as a greeting. The wolf was the first to follow him to LA after starting a modeling career in Paris. It’s strange how they all slip into jobs they haven’t planned for. Isaac wanted to become a doctor. Lydia achieved her dream in becoming the smartest person at MIT, yet decided that her passion is with fashion and has been starting to work towards her own company in the past year. Kira meant to work with children, and now is instead about to get her degree in photography. Only Jackson stayed on his path on becoming a lawyer.

At least all of them are sure what to do in the future. Stiles is still on the fence about it. He likes what he’s doing now, but he’s not sure if that’s something he can do forever. He's not Ed Warren.

Yet.

While Mason and Liam are chatting with Lydia, Stiles watches Theo’s interaction with Jackson. They seem tense, and Stiles wonders if Jackson’s protective bubble now includes him as well. But instead of saying, ‘I’ll rip your head off’ Jackson snorts out a laugh, pats Theo’s shoulder and says, “good luck.”

Rolling his eyes, Stiles sinks into his chair.

———

Overall, the night is going great. Stiles missed partying with his friends. There’s something freeing about it, something relaxing, pushing him back into the comfort of his very own life — the part of his life he had before the nogitsune. Nothing has been the same, but in the middle of the crowded dance floor, Kira, Lydia, and Isaac brushing and bumping against him, and the ghosts scared away by the living, Stiles feels better than he’s done in a long, long time.

He's leaning his head back, catching Theo’s staring back at him. It’s hard to make out his expression, but his eyes flash yellow for only a brief moment. Even from a distance, Theo radiates possessiveness. It’s hot. Infuriatingly so.

Cocking his head to the side, Theo beckons him to come back up. A shudder runs through his body, and he has to actively fight his own instincts because every part of him wants to run up to him. He knows what Theo wants; the touches, the words, the flirting – the guy has never intended to be subtle.

But Stiles’ pride keeps him rooted to the dance floor, even as Theo pushes away from the railing and walks away.

“If you’re not going to accept that invitation…” Lydia trails off with a chuckle.

Stiles shoots her a look. Although he’s more than aware Lydia would never dare to go after someone he’s interested in, he couldn’t deny the burst of jealousy burning in the pit of his stomach. It leaves as quickly as it arrived. There’s no need to be jealous, after all, they’re talking about Theo.

“Go.” Lydia shoves him not so gently.

Huffing out a breath, Stiles peels away from his friends and pushes out of the moving crowd. He wipes his hands on his jeans, hating that he’s suddenly nervous about allowing Theo close again, but he’s way too curious about the apology Theo promised him. He hasn’t forgotten that yet — just like he hasn’t forgotten that Theo ghosted him like a fucking asshole.

Still, he very much remembers all the things Theo’s tongue can do, he’d be stupid to pass up on an offer like that. He wants him so bad; it will take all his willpower to keep him an arm’s length away while simultaneously hooking up with him.

This is going to end in disaster.

Stiles hurries up the escalator, or rather, he climbs it as fast as his jeans allow him; at this point, he’s still not sure why being a skeleton for Halloween required skintight jeans. He does appreciate it for what it did to Theo, who seems to have magically disappeared once he’s made it upstairs.

Fantastic.

He didn’t read that wrong, right? No, he can’t have. Lydia saw it too, and she is a weird detector for dead people and living people who want to have sex with him. Plus, Theo’s made it very clear that he’s still interested. Theo beckoned him to come to him. But where the fuck—

Someone snatches him by the hood and drags him into one of the abandoned shops to his right. Despite himself, his heart jumps into his throat as his foot catches on debris on the ground. He stumbles but doesn’t fall because an arm wraps tightly around his waist. Before he even has the chance to get his feet under himself, he’s crowded against a dusty old jewelry display cabinet.

Unsurprisingly, it’s Theo, who is pressing against him. “Didn’t expect you could dance like that,” he says barely loud enough to be heard over the bass of the music outside, shamelessly pressing his groin against Stiles’ ass. That Theo got hard just from watching him dance is equally surprising as it is fucking hot. “It should be illegal,” Theo continues, grinding against him as his fingers work on his belt and zipper without hesitation. “I don’t think anyone else should be allowed to see that.”

There’s that possessiveness again. Stiles hates how easily it’s getting to him, how Theo just dives right through his defenses and sweeps him up. If he asked, he’d probably let Theo bend him over this stupid cabinet and fuck him senseless. If he waits any longer, Theo won’t even have to ask.

So, he grabs Theo’s hands and pulls them off, ignoring the grumble of discontent. “I was promised an apology,” Stiles remarks, turning so he can look at Theo and lean against the cabinet. His tight jeans have become even more of a problem now than they were before. It does not help that they’re face-to-face, and so close, Theo’s warm breath ghosts over his skin. It’s easy to remember the last time they were this close.

Good times.

When Theo leans in for a kiss, Stiles keeps him at a distance with both hands on his chest. “Lydia put in too much effort into this costume for you to ruin it.” He taps his thumb against Theo’s collarbone, raising his brows. “And again, you promised me an apology.”

Although the light from outside barely reaches into the former store, Theo’s smirk is visible enough. “How demanding.”

“Demanding?” Stiles moves his hands up to cup Theo’s jaws. “No.” God, he wants to kiss him so, so bad. “You promised. Take it or leave it.”

Chuckling, Theo moves closer again. “Fair.” He cocks his head to the side, eyes roaming over Stiles’ face. It’s clear he’s debating on kissing him anyway – part of Stiles wishes he’d do it because he refuses to let him close, but if he pushes enough.

It’s so fucking stupid.

Theo flashes his eyes again, bright yellow in a face hiding mostly in shadow. Like that, he looks exactly like the predator he is.

It does things to Stiles’ dick he’s not at all ready to admit.

But Theo notices. It’s obvious by the smirk deepening on his features. He’s so fucking full of himself, and it’s painfully hot — although admittedly, it’s not as hot as watching Theo getting on his knees right in front of him. That’s a sight to see, and a sight that makes his dick twitch in his pants. It’s not fair Theo can see so plainly what he does to his body with little to no effort.

And yet.

Thankfully, Theo doesn’t seem to have any interest in teasing him any further. He makes quick work of his zipper and pushes Stiles’ pants and boxer briefs down just enough to have easy access to his dick. Before he knows it, Theo’s mouth is on him. His lips wrap around the tip of his dick, and his tongue- fuck, his tongue.

Stiles can’t help but moan. He leans his head back, curling his fingers around the edge of the cabinet. Theo’s mouth felt way too good on him. There’s no way he could stay silent.

Good thing he doesn’t need to, not with the music drowning out his sounds.

Even when people are happening to look into this shop, all they will see is someone standing in the darkness like a weirdo. Nobody will care too much.

Theo moans around his dick, and it nearly pushes Stiles over the edge, which would’ve been the fastest he’s cum in his life; there’s no need for that embarrassment to happen when he should savor having Theo on his knees, pleading for forgiveness. He never thought the day would come, so, Stiles really wants to make it last.

But Theo is trying his very best to make it as hard — ha — as possible for him.

Closing his eyes, Stiles leans his head back. Watching Theo suck him off would not do him any good, or well, it would do him too much good. He curls his fingers into Theo’s hair, not trying to stop him, but, fuck, he really needs to hold onto him.

Theo is going to make him forget his own name if he keeps going like that, if he grabs and squeezes his ass shamelessly, pulling closer and taking him deeper into his mouth.

Moaning, Stiles tightens his grip on the display. Theo’s mouth has no right to feel this good. Fuck. Theo’s tongue has no right to make him feel like this. But it does; pressed flat against the underside of his dick or swirling the tip — if he keeps going like this, Stiles will meet his Polish ancestors a lot sooner than he anticipated. He can feel his orgasm building deep in the pit of his stomach already.

And Theo is having the time of his life with it. His fucking chuckle makes Stiles almost cum on the spot.

There’s no way his going to last much longer.

“Theo,” he breathes, forcing himself to open his eyes, and tugs carefully on the other’s short strands. Locking eyes with Theo is a terrible decision. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut again. His heart seems ready to jump straight out of his chest, it’s beating so fast.

Theo takes more of him into his mouth, and when the tip of his dick hits the back of his throat, Stiles barely resists the urge to yank Theo even closer. His fingers twitch in his short strands, and he breathes through gritted teeth. He can feel his muscles tighten. “Theo—" he warns, despite knowing that werewolves are usually able to tell when he’s close.

Humming, Theo squeezes his ass again and doubles his efforts.

Stiles lets go of him, curling both hands around the edge of the display cabinet instead. He’s staring down at the other boy, unable to look away and holding his gaze. Somehow, Theo manages to look unbearably smug while sucking on the tip of his dick. Stiles hates that this is one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. The asshole has the nerve to fucking smirk, and Stiles just knows this will haunt him in his dreams for days to come.

Theo takes him into his mouth again as he rubs a finger along his perineum then pushes it ever so innocently against his rim.

And that’s the end of it.

Stiles cums with a shout that may or may not be Theo’s name, arching his back. For a few blissful moments, his brain completely short-circuits, and all he can feel is his dick pulsing in Theo’s throat and his own fucking high.

But then, he returns to reality, a bit too quickly for his liking. Theo’s hands are on his thighs, holding him up, and his mouth is still on him. What was heaven a few seconds ago, quickly gets too much. Scrunching up his face, Stiles grabs Theo’s hair again and pulls his head back.

The first sound out of Theo’s mouth is a laugh.

Stiles wants to slap him. Instead, he puts himself back together. “You have cum on your chin.”

“And here I thought I swallowed it all.”

Fucking hell. Stiles shakes his head, hating that another flush is already creeping up his neck. “I hate you.”

Chuckling, Theo stands up and crowds Stiles against the display. “No, you don’t.”

Stiles shoots him a look. Of course, he doesn’t hate Theo. He wouldn’t be here if he hated him, fuck, he wouldn’t even have invited Theo to tag along if he didn’t at least like him. But he’s not going to admit to that. “You’re so full of yourself.” And it’s infuriatingly attractive.

Theo hums and wraps his arms around him, pulling him close — most definitely trying to point out that he’s still hard, and Stiles should do something about it.

See, if Theo hadn’t ghosted him for months because he didn’t have the guts to tell him the truth, Stiles would gladly do something about his not so little problem. He probably would’ve let Theo do whatever he wanted. But Theo did ghost him.

Smiling, Stiles cups Theo’s cheek, wiping the cum off his chin then cleans his thumb on the other boy’s shirt. “I think that’s what people call a ‘you problem’.” He pats his cheek once more before pushing the chimera off. “Have fun.”

For a few seconds, Theo circles through a bunch of emotions from anger to surprise, to something hard to decipher before he eventually settles on a trademark smirk that does not quite reach his eyes. “I’m going to get you back for this,” he promises in a low voice, and the only reason Stiles can hear it is because they’re still standing close.

“I’d like to see you try.” And that’s true, in every sense of the word. Maybe the key to Theo’s attention is making him chase him. If that’s the case, it’s exactly what he’s going to do.

Blowing Theo a kiss, Stiles pushes himself off the display and walks out of the store.

Things just got a whole lot more interesting.

#steo #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #teen wolf #stiles x theo #theo x stiles #kinktober 2023 #*tv:teen wolf #*w:kinktober2023 #*w:complete #*s:steo

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