#teen wolf imagines

[sourwulf]

stiles comes to you after his female anatomy class and asks you to help. he says he’s never even watched torn so has never even seen a vagina, but yours is the first one he winds up seeing and eating out

༄  word count  —  2.3k

፨  characters  —  stiles stilinski

☓  tw  —  none

⊹  cw  —  smut & oral, losing of virginity

☼  a/n— i have... severely neglected this blog

✎  masterlist

─

you were sitting on your couch watching tv, a root beer flavored sucker between your lips. you were channel surfing, nothing catching your eye. your front door opened unannounced, making your head whip towards it.

after it closed, the familiar face of stiles poked around the corner.

you sighed, glad it wasn't an intruder.

"hey," you greeted. "ever heard of knocking?"

"sorry, it's raining and the door was unlocked. i figured you wouldn't mind."

he kicked his shoes off and walked over to sit next to you, mimicking your position by crossing his arms.

"what flavor is that?" he asked, looking at the stick in your mouth.

"root beer."

"nice."

"so what's up?"

"i was hoping you could help me study."

"as long as it's not math."

"honestly, i kinda wish it was."

"why? what is it?"

"so... it's for my health class. we're doing a human anatomy course for the sex ed unit."

"and you need my help... why?"

"well... it's female anatomy." you raised your eyebrows. "you're the only person i'm comfortable with asking for help on this."

you just looked at him for a second before taking in a deep breath and turning off the tv.

"alright, fine."

within a couple of minutes you were both upstairs on your bed. you sat against your headboard, him laying on his side horizontal across the bed with his assignment in front of him.

so far, it was just multiple choice and fill in the blank questions. he was reading them out, getting your answers.

"what do the ovaries do?" he asked, a diagram of the uterus, ovaries, and fallopian tubes above the questions, with lines to label each.

"make hormones and contain eggs."

he skimmed the answers, finding the one that fit that description the best.

once he finished that chart, he flipped the page to see a very detailed diagram of a vagina, also with lines pointing to specific parts of it for him to label.

he looked at it for a moment, as if he was really studying it.

"vulva."

"i'm pretty sure that's just an all-inclusive word to include everything."

he circled the right answer

"what is the... clitoris? did i say that right?"

hearing stiles say the word 'clitoris' was a bit weird, but to be fair most people don't really say the full word.

"are you really asking me what the clit is?"

"yeah, what is it?"

you looked at him slightly in disbelief, chuckling a bit.

"come on, stiles."

"what?"

you were dumbfounded. everyone knows what the clit is.

"you've never even heard the word?"

"i've heard of it, i just don't know what it is."

"it's kind of obvious if you're looking at a vagina."

he shrugged. "never seen one. well, other than this drawing."

now this left you stunned. never seen a vagina? how was it possible for a teenage boy to never have seen one?

"you've watched porn, though."

he shook his head. "nope."

somehow he continued to shock you more with every sentence.

"never?"

"never."

"stiles, you're a teenage boy, and you're telling me you've never watched porn?"

"never needed to."

"the clitoris is... it's like a little bud above the vaginal opening. it's full of nerve endings and it's really only there for pleasure purposes."

"huh. interesting. can i ask you a question?"

"shoot."

"does every vagina look like this?"

"what do you mean?"

"like... are they all identical?"

"uh... no. every vagina is different. just like every penis is different. some of them are dangly, some are hairy, it just depends on the person."

"does yours look like this?"

your eyebrows dipped.

"did you really just ask me that?"

"i thought i was allowed to ask questions."

"yeah, general questions."

"that is a general question."

you sighed. "similar. but not really. i mean, they all have the same basic parts. but the anatomy is different sometimes."

he nodded. "wish i could see a real one up close."

it was kind of funny, how he was talking about vaginas like a specimen he could study.

"you will someday." he made eye contact with you and raised his eyebrows slightly. "stiles. you're not implying what i think you are, are you?"

"i mean... i'm not gonna say no."

"i'm not showing you my vagina!"

"that's not what i was asking, pervert," he said in an unconvincing tone.

to be completely honest, you weren't completely against the idea. the best way to learn was to see the real thing, not just a drawing.

you sighed. "fine." his eyes lit up a bit. "on one condition."

"mm?"

"no touching. only looking."

he nodded.

"sounds fair to me."

you could not believe you were fully exposing yourself to him right now, your vagina just out. your upper body was propped up on your pillows, your knees bent and thighs spread with his eyes glued to you.

"and no judging my lack of shaving."

he shrugged. "doesn't bother me."

he was looking at you like it was a book and he was reading every word.

"this is kinda weird, right?" you asked, trying to break the tension. and trying to distract him from the fact that his gaze was causing you to grow wetter and wetter with every second.

"a little bit, yeah."

"so... my vagina is the first one you've ever seen."

"yep. looks pretty similar to the drawing."

a few seconds of heavy silence went by.

"i mean... it's hard to learn when you're not... hands-on." you mentally slapped yourself for how cringey that sounded.

he froze, looking up into your eyes.

"what?"

"yeah, i mean... how are you supposed to learn what the clitoris is if you don't get to see what it does?"

"oh. i don't- i don't know."

"exactly."

"but you said no touching."

"i know what i said. maybe sometimes it's good to... break rules."

he slowly crawled closer to you and you spread your thighs wider. the cold air against your wetness could've given you chills.

"what... what do i do?" he asked, his face only a couple of inches away.

"see if you can find the words on your paper."

he looked over at it. "labia."

he lightly poked your wet lips — not the ones on your face.

"good."

"was that it?"

"mhm. good job."

"clitoris," he said without looking back at the paper.

"you remembered that one."

he looked around for a second before, without warning, placing the pad of his pointer finger onto your clit, making you take in a deep breath.

"that?"

"yep. right again."

"what do you... do with it?"

it was uncomfortable to explain, especially with a face in your vagina and a finger on your clit.

"uh... lots of things. really it's just different ways of touching it and touching it with different things. so, you could go in circles, back and forth, up and down. you can also use your tongue or some kind of toy. it's another thing that just depends on the person, everyone likes different things."

"what do you like?"

"circles, usually."

with a second of hesitation, he began slowly moving that finger in circles. you let out a breathy moan and closed your eyes, but he stopped.

"was that okay?"

you opened your eyes and looked down at him.

"that was good."

"so... what happens? is there like... an end goal here?"

"orgasm. it's how most women have to get there. sex, like penetration, usually isn't enough to get a lot of us there."

"really?"

"yeah. that's why it's important for our partners to do something other than just regular sex."

"so... do you usually prefer fingers or... a tongue?"

"well... me personally, i usually prefer a tongue. i feel like it's just more intimate."

"and what do you do with the tongue?"

"same thing you would with fingers. circles, back and forth, up and down-"

you were interrupted by a warm tongue on your clit, unable to hold in a gasp. he was going in circles like you said to do, and it was like he knew what to do immediately.

it felt good. you looked down at him to see him returning the gaze, a smirk creeping across his face.

"good, just like that, stiles."

you were doing your darndest to keep your hips still, ensuring he did everything right his first time. he placed his hands atop your thighs, making sure they stayed spread.

you reached up and pushed your hair out of your face, fisting a ball of your own hair. you were moaning, which he wasn't expecting to hear the first time he did this.

"you're doing good, stiles. that feels good."

he didn't answer, but his ego grew a few sizes at that. the closer you got to your orgasm, the more he had to hold you still. his arms were now wrapped around your thighs, his hands flat against your belly.

"fuck, okay, i can feel it coming," you said, looking down at him. "keep going, i'm gonna cum."

when you did look at him, it looked like he was experienced in this. his positioning, his hands, his pace, everything screamed 'i've done this a thousand times before'.

he liked this. being able to make you melt with just his tongue was making him hard, but he couldn't help it. your sweet voice moaning his name was like music to his ears, and the closer you got the louder you became.

your fingers tangled in his hair, trying not to pull too hard.

"don't stop, stiles. i'm almost there. i'll tell you when to stop."

he obeyed, not changing a single thing he was doing. if it hadn't have been so obvious, he might not have known you were cumming.

your back arched sharply, you took in a loud gasp, and your legs were trembling.

this was an incredible orgasm. you were perplexed by his skill, as ten minutes ago he had never even laid eyes on a vagina, much less eaten one out. but he was a quick learner, as you'd figured out from all the werewolf stuff.

"alright, stop, stop," you choked out. he immediately pulled away, using his shirt to wipe his mouth. you closed your legs and reveled in your high. your hand covered your eyes and you struggled to catch your breath.

"was that okay?" he asked innocently.

"are you kidding?" a moment later, you propped yourself up on your elbows. "how did you know how to do that?"

he shrugged. "i just did what you described."

"i've had more than one guy go down on me who was experienced and couldn't make me cum at all. that was, what, two minutes?"

"i guess i'm a natural," he joked.

you tilted your head to the side. "c'mere." you spread your legs again and his eyes widened, slowly following your directions. he held himself above you and you pulled him down to kiss you.

your hand trailed down his chest and landed on his belt, the clanking of the buckle making him pull away.

"what're you doing?" he whispered, looking at your half-closed eyes.

"well... i can see you're rock hard. i just figured, if you're losing your oral virginity, you might as well lose the regular one too."

he gulped hard, not moving.

"oh."

you stopped messing with his belt, furrowing your brow.

"unless you don't want to. you don't have to. don't feel like i'm pressuring you."

he shook his head.

"i don't. it's just... i didn't expect this. i wasn't planning on doing that when i came over, and i definitely didn't expect this. i didn't bring a condom or anything."

"i have some." you reached down and cupped his bulge in your hand, which made him falter a bit. "they might be a bit snug, but they'll fit."

he nodded, and you continued unbuckling his belt. when you got his pants shimmied down a bit and he was exposed to you, you noticed how red his cheeks were.

"what's wrong?"

"nothing. just... i don't want to disappoint you."

"stiles, it's your first time. i'm not expecting you to last past the first thrust." you can tell he took that as an insult. "i didn't mean it like that. no guy lasts past the first thrust during their first time. vaginas are different than hands or socks. i want you to feel comfortable with this. i promise i'm not judging you."

he nodded. "okay."

"if you don't want to have sex yet i could always just blow you instead. you might last longer that way."

"no, i want to do this."

"okay."

you reached over and grabbed a condom out of your nightstand drawer and opened it for him.

"want me to put it on for you?" you asked, to which you received a nod.

the feeling of your hand stroking down on him could've made him cum right then and there. but he wanted to wait until he was at least inside of you.

the feeling of his tip pressing into you was magical for both of you, and once he was fully nestled into you, he pressed a deep kiss onto your mouth.

he didn't move for a moment, wanting this to last as long as possible.

he was a nice size, not small by any means but not the biggest you'd had. he was perfect.

"you okay?" you whispered, pushing his hair off his forehead.

he nodded, the redness in his cheeks spreading to his chest. he slowly pulled out, and let out a loud, shaky moan with the next thrust. him laying his forehead against your chest let you know that he had cum, his arms trembling a bit.

when he looked at you again, he chuckled.

"what?" you asked.

"lasted past the first thrust." you both laughed at that, and you kissed him again. "next time it'll be better."

"next time?" he nodded. "when will that be?"

he thought for a second. "give me a couple of hours."

[babyflorencee]

My flannel

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

I awoke to an involuntary shiver coursing through my body. Instinctively, I stretched my arm out in search of my boyfriend, Stiles, but he wasn't there. Emitting a disheartened groan, I shifted my focus towards Stiles' side of the bed, only to discover the window agape, permitting the morning sun to cascade within, its brilliance so intense it could potentially blind those who dared to gaze in its direction. Flipping on my back, I rubbed away the remnants of sleep from my eyes before lifting the sheets away from my nearly exposed form. The moment that the fabric was off my body, the wintry breeze made its presence known, caressing my bare arms and legs. I got out of bed, stumbling over towards the window, almost falling down multiple times, but eventually managing to close and lock it.

I looked around the room, seeing my clothes scattered about. Sighing, I made my way to the open closet, rummaging through Stiles' collection of flannels and jackets until I found the one I wanted to wear. I pulled a multi-colored flannel out of his closet, putting it over my shoulders, and buttoning up all the buttons before descending out of his room, making my way down the stairs and into his kitchen.

Immediately upon entering the room, I saw Stiles sitting at the island table, scrolling through his phone. Sneaking up behind him, I wrapped my arms loosely around his neck, before placing multiple kisses from his jaw to his cheek "Morning," he mumbled, leaning back into my arms.

"Hey Sti," I murmured into his neck.

After a few minutes of staying in that position, I reluctantly pulled away, only to perch myself upon his lap moments later. Settling into a crisscrossed posture, I leaned back into his chest. "Am I just a chair to you?" He teased, a laugh accompanying his joke.

"Yes, and my own personal footrest," I retorted, offering a bratty smile before quickly turning away.

"Ouch, I feel so used." He faux- pouted, before dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if it was wounded.

Glancing back at him, I noticed his gaze fixed upon me. However, he wasn't looking at my face; he was looking at what I was wearing. He bit his lip before speaking up. "Is this mine?" He lightly pinched a portion of the fabric, tugging it lightly.

"No, it's mine," I asserted, looking down at my hands.

"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure that belongs to me," he said, trying to bite back a laugh.

My eyes widened at the thought of being caught, as my protectiveness over the flannel intensified. "My shirt," I declared, arms crossed defensively as I turned my head to the side, a pout on my face, as I hoped that Stiles wouldn't make me give his flannel back.

Stiles lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, all while looking me dead in the eyes. "What does that say?" He asked, pointing to his name that was written on the the tag.

"Fine, it's yours," I said, sighing in defeat.

"I like how it looks on you," he pressed a light kiss to my temple, quietly laughing at the way my eyes lit up.

"Does that mean I can keep it?" I asked, offering the widest smile I could muster.

"Absolutely not. But you can wear it whenever you want." He said, his hands settling on my thighs, as he rubbed his hands up and down.

"I'll take it!" I said, grabbing his coffee and drinking out of it before making a face of disgust.

"Ew, what did you put in this?" I questioned, frowning as he laughed at me.

"I didn't put anything in it, it's just coffee," he explained, pointing to the dark liquid in the cup.

"This is disgusting," I said, pouting even more as his laughter persisted.

[chloe-skywalker]

They Were There - Peter Hale

Peter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 635

Summary: Derek and Cora know about Y/n and Peter because they were there when he proposed. Everyone else in the pack? Surprise.

Masterlist

Teen Wolf Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Welcome to the family.” Derek smiled, hugging Y/n as she and Peter entered the loft having just got back from their honeymoon. Y/n and Derek had been friends since junior high but now she was his sister in law and Derek wasn’t disappointed. “Cora sends her congrats and welcome but she had to leave.”

“Its okay. I already talked to her.” Y/n smiled, waving it off, her and Cora had already talked a few days before. “Its great to finally be apart of the family.” Y/n groaned back at Peter along with Derek.

“Sorry I didn’t want to rush things.” Peter narrowed his eyes at the two.

“You have been in love with her since you were 14. I think you took your damn time.” Derek raised his brows looking at his uncle with an exaggerated look. Even if he was somewhat commatoused for a few years, his uncle still took his damn time.

“I’m just glad you did it to begin with.” Y/n let out a laugh, it was a long time coming.

“It's been a longtime coming.” Peter pulled Y/n, his wife, into his side and kissed her. He could be soft with her.

“There's a pack meeting tonight here at the loft.” Derek told them after their little moment, Y/n is good for his uncle. Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t kill him again to protect her, but she did make him a better person.

“I’ll be there.” Y/n told him.

“Will you?” Derek asked his uncle knowing how much he did not care for the pack.

“Since my wife will be there, yes. I gotta know what I’ll have to protect you from when their plans go wrong.” Peter stated sarcastically. Y/n and Derek just looked at eachother and rolled their eyes.

^     ^     ^

“Your back!” Scott said with a smile rushing over to hug Y/n once the pack entered the loft and saw she was there. They had all missed her.

“You’ve been gone so long.” Allsion said having missed her older friend. Y/n was older than the group of teens, she was the older sister figure of the pack.

“Where’d you go?” Stiles asked.

“Is that a ring on your finger?” Lydia points out having caught the shine of it catching the light.

“You got married?” Allison questioned in shock, having looked down to Y/n’s hand like everyone else after hearing Lydia.

“Yes.” Y/n nodded.

“Without us?” Scott gave her his sad puppy dog eyes.

“We plan on having a reception with all of you sometime in the near future.” Y/n smiled at them and she saw her words lesson their sadness.

“We? Who’s the dude?” Stiles raised a brow.

“Peter.”

“Peter as in Peter Hale?!” Scott’s eyes bulged out of his head. 

“As in Derek’s uncle?” Allison was less shocked but more surprised.

“Yes, she's a Hale now.” Derek smirked proudly.

“I am.” She smiled.

“Peter Hale?” Stiles squinted his eyes, still not believing it.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Peter raised his eyebrows pretending to be innocent. He spoke up for the first time since the pack arrived from his spot on the couch.

“You're a psychopath for starters.” Stiles stated addressing the oldest Hale.

“He’s different with her. I’ll defend him on that. He has always been different when it comes to Y/n.” Derek spoke up.

Y/n walked over to Peter, sitting on the arm of the couch.

“That's because she’s different. She’s mine.” Peter growled the last part possessively.

“And you're mine.” Y/n smiled at him leaning over to kiss him.

“Oh he’s been yours since he laid eyes on you.” Derek teased and he got satisfaction when his uncle flashed his eyes at him but couldn’t deny his nephew's statement.

[ruewrote]

𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡.

PAIRING: stiles stilinski x fem!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: teenage dream by katy perry WORD COUNT: 1.2k

navigation | ask | stiles stilinski masterlist

it wasn't out of the blue for you and stiles to have a sleepover on fridays, actually it was a sort of unspoken rule between the two of you.

it first started when you said that you had never watched star wars before, which led to the both of you sitting on your couch with a big bowl of popcorn in between.

him explaining the little parts you'd get confused about or him just ranting about his favourite scenes. after that it was a back and forth of showing each other your favourite unseen movies.

when finishing said movie the following days you'd receive multiple memes from him about the specific films, it had become a recurring pattern that you'd come to love. it almost felt weird if he didn't.

tonight it was your turn to introduce him to the to all the boys i loved before trilogy since you'd been obsessed with the movies since they first came out.

he was on the fence about watching them since he wasn't a huge fan of romcoms, you somehow convinced him by saying "it's practice for watching them with your future girlfriend!" internally wincing at that.

every friday you felt more anxious before stiles showed, trying to fluff up your pillows and straighten out your blankets. wanting to make everything perfect.

you had a huge crush on stiles, how could you not after spending so much time together, learning all of his little quirks, his likes and his dislikes, the only thing you weren't sure about was the way he felt about you.

it was the one thing you wanted to know the most about him. did he think about you the same ways you thought about him? did he like the way cuddled when you'd watch these movies and shows with him?

you couldn't tell him though, what if he didn't feel the same way you did and it completely ruins the good friendship you have right now?

what would it take for you to finally tell him?

ding dong!

the doorbell ringing a couple times had you jogging down the stairs, opening the door with a warm smile to see hyper stiles.

"i'm so ready to get my movie night on! i had a math test today and let me tell you it sucked," he whines as he dramatically wraps his arms around your waist as he fake cries into your shoulder.

"well if it helps i have enough microwaveable popcorn to keep us going through the apocalypse soo you coming upstairs or what?"

with that said he zips past you up your stairs, falling up them in the process, making you giggle at his eagerness as you follow close behind him.

watching stiles practically swan dive onto your bed and aggressively sniff your pillow has you side eyeing him, "why is your bed so much comfier and smells so much nicer than mine? it's so not fair."

"it's a little thing called fabric softener and if you continuously jump into your bed the way you do mine, then i guess you've got your answer you dufus," you laugh at him burrowing himself deep under your duvet.

"plus i've slept in your bed it's plenty comfy, the key is lots of pillows and fluffy blankets." he hums as you settle yourself beside him before pressing play on the movie.

it was like ten minutes into the film when you could feel him slightly shuffle closer to you, keeping your eyes on the screen pretending it didn't happen. just patiently waiting until he felt comfortable enough to say something.

"can...can we cuddle?" you wordlessly lifted your arm, letting him slip himself under, his head on your chest, the rest of his body lightly pressed to your side.

it was like second nature to you two, whether either one of you had a bad week you'd take turns holding each other. you helped install healthy mannerisms that proved that it was okay for a man to be held because they deserve it too and that it was okay for guys to cry no matter who they're with.

so yes , when he had a rough day he'd often walk up to you and bury his face into your neck, his arms firmly wrapped around you as you cupped the back of his head and rubbed soft circles on his back just letting him know that you were there for him.

with everything he had gone through he deserved all the comfort he could get and if the source was you then so be it.

you would be lying if you said that your heart didn't speed up at the closeness and how his touch on your skin left goosebumps.

trying to be as casual as possible, you raise the hand that was currently wrapped around his shoulders to gently stroke his hair, feeling him physically melt into you calmed your nerves.

feeling your eyelids slowly droop, your hand movements become slower so your palm now laid on the back of his neck, fighting sleep felt so difficult when he was beside you. his presence was so peaceful, comforting even without him saying anything.

the early start of your day hitting even harder now. He won't mind if you rested your eyes for a little bit, right?

stiles noticed the similarities between the two characters to the both of you, but there's no way that you deliberately put this on as a sign? was he reading too deep into it?

when he went to question you about it, lifting his head he was met with you sleeping peacefully. his gaze softened at the sight, gently tucking the piece of hair that fell in front of your face.

"you are so goddamn beautiful and don't even know it, even when you sleep? like can you save some beauty for the rest of us?" he chuckles at his own joke.

"i don't know how long i can keep pretending that i'm not totally in love with you...there really isn't anything that i wouldn't do for you." he whispers and he studies your features.

"it's honestly crazy how i feel your absence in everything that i do when i'm alone, in every place i go without you." he sighs, going to go back to watching the tv.

"you really mean all of that?" you whisper, making him jump back.

"uh- i-i do, but i thought you were asleep?"

"no i was just resting my eyes, but i'm sorta glad that you thought i was for you to finally confess your feelings for me." you smirk at him.

his mouth opens and closes, utterly bewildered at what you just said, "what do you mean finally?"

"You realise that i like you too, right? that i have for the longest time?" stiles eyes now wide, looking even more lost than before.

"you like me? like like me like me?"

sitting up, grasping the back of his neck, "what are you..." pulling him closer, your lips brushing against his. it takes him a second to register the kiss before melting into it. leaning closer to deepen the kiss. his hands brushing over your hips as he laid you down, now hovering over you. your hand running through his hair, tugging at the roots.

you're both now smiling as you share a few more pecks before pulling away. "so you do like me!" he grins, "oh my god. dude yes!"

"ya know if you're gonna be my girlfriend, you're gonna have to calling me dude."

"would you prefer shnookums?"

"that's it!" he pulled away just enough to tickle you.

from that night forth you and stiles had become inseparable, practically connected at the hip. but you wouldn't want it any other way.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[magical-reid]

Return of the Date (A New Hope Part 2)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Popular!Reader

Word Count: 1.7 K

Summary: After Stiles unexpectedly scores the game-winning goal in a crucial lacrosse match, his reputation at school shifts, and your friends start pushing you toward him as a potential date. What starts as a reluctant agreement leads to a surprisingly fun evening, where you discover Stiles' sweet, genuine side, and before you know it, you're seriously considering a second date with the awkward yet endearing boy.

Part 1

The first date had been… unexpected. Not in a bad way, but not in a way you’d ever imagined. Stiles Stilinski, the guy who’d always been on the periphery of your social world, had somehow managed to surprise you. His awkward charm, his surprising chivalry, and—admittedly—his endless Star Wars knowledge had left you thinking about him far more than you wanted to admit.

So when he’d texted you a few days later asking if you’d want to go out again—just the two of you this time—you’d surprised yourself by saying yes.

“Okay, so I was thinking,” Stiles began as he pulled into your driveway on the night of your second date, “that since we did the whole group thing last time, this one should be more low-key. You know, something chill.”

You climbed into the Jeep, glancing over at him. “Like what?”

“Well,” he said, drumming his fingers nervously on the steering wheel, “there’s this spot just outside town. It’s kinda dorky, but I think you’ll like it.”

That was all he said before pulling out of your driveway, leaving you both curious and slightly apprehensive.

The “spot outside town” turned out to be an old drive-in theater that had been revamped into an outdoor movie night spot. A large screen stood in the middle of an open field, surrounded by cars, lawn chairs, and blankets. A few food trucks lined the edges of the lot, serving everything from popcorn to burgers.

“They’re playing a double feature tonight,” Stiles said, a mix of excitement and nerves in his voice. “The first one’s Back to the Future, and the second is The Empire Strikes Back.”

You raised an eyebrow, unable to hold back a smile. “Of course it’s Empire Strikes Back.”

“Hey, if you’re going to do a second date, you might as well make it legendary,” he said, grinning as he parked the Jeep.

Stiles had thought of everything. He pulled a plaid blanket out of the back, along with a cooler filled with snacks—because of course, Stiles Stilinski would never settle for just popcorn.

The two of you settled onto the blanket, the sounds of the pre-show advertisements humming in the background. As the first movie started, Stiles kept sneaking glances at you, clearly trying to gauge how you were feeling.

“You’re staring,” you said without looking away from the screen.

“I’m not staring,” he protested, though the way his cheeks flushed under the glow of the screen gave him away.

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, maybe a little,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “I just… I wasn’t sure you’d actually want to come. After the first date, I mean.”

You turned to him, caught off guard by the honesty in his voice. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugged, suddenly fascinated by the corner of the blanket. “I don’t know. You’re just… you. And I’m… me. This isn’t exactly a fair match.”

Your heart twisted at his words, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out and nudged his shoulder. “Hey. Give yourself a little credit. The first date wasn’t that bad.”

His face lit up, the doubt in his expression fading slightly. “Wasn’t that bad? Wow, Y/N, don’t get too sappy on me.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face was hard to hide.

The first movie flew by, the two of you sharing a bowl of popcorn while exchanging quips about Marty McFly and Doc Brown. By the time The Empire Strikes Back started, you’d moved closer, your shoulder brushing against his.

“You’re going to hate me,” you whispered halfway through the movie, your voice low so as not to disturb the other viewers.

“Impossible,” Stiles said immediately, his eyes glued to the screen.

“I’ve only seen this once,” you admitted, biting your lip.

That finally made him turn to you, his jaw dropping in mock horror. “What?!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. “I mean, I know it. Everyone knows it. But I’ve only actually watched it once.”

Stiles shook his head, feigning deep disappointment. “This is worse than I thought. I have my work cut out for me.”

“Oh, please.”

“No, no,” he insisted, his tone playful. “I’m serious. I can’t date someone who’s only seen The Empire Strikes Back once. This is a crisis.”

“And yet, here you are,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He paused, as if considering your point, before breaking into a grin. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and the moment they did, his eyes widened in panic. “I mean—uh—”

You blinked at him, startled, before breaking into a laugh. “Did you just call me cute?”

“Maybe?” he said, his voice pitching up nervously.

You leaned closer, smirking. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

That shut him up.

By the time the movies ended and the lot started clearing out, you found yourself lingering, neither of you quite ready for the night to end.

Stiles leaned against the hood of the Jeep, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he glanced at you. “So, uh… did you have fun?”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. “It wasn’t bad.”

He groaned, shaking his head. “Not bad? Y/N, you’re killing me here.”

You laughed, stepping closer. “It was fun, Stiles. Really.”

His face lit up, and for a moment, you felt the same warmth that had surprised you on the first date.

“Good,” he said softly. “Because I’d really like to do this again.”

You smiled, letting the silence stretch between you before nodding. “I think I’d like that, too.”

His grin was wide and unguarded, and as he opened the passenger door for you and climbed into the driver’s seat, you realized something you hadn’t expected:

You were looking forward to the next one.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Beacon Hills High wasn’t exactly known for its subtlety when it came to gossip, and your relationship with Stiles Stilinski was proof of that.

It started small: a few people noticing the two of you sitting closer during lunch, walking to class together, or laughing over something only the two of you understood. But then, Stiles—Stiles, of all people—had decided to hold your hand in the middle of the crowded hallway between third and fourth period.

It was like setting off a firework in a quiet room.

By the time you made it to your next class, you could feel the whispers following you like shadows. And you didn’t need superhuman hearing to catch what people were saying:

“Wait—Y/N and Stiles? When did that happen?”

“Is she, like, okay? What’s going on here?”

“No way. That has to be a dare or something.”

“Honestly? Kinda cute.”

The lunchroom the next day was worse. You’d barely made it halfway to your table when you caught Jackson Whittemore’s unmistakable voice cutting through the chatter.

“Hold on,” he said loudly, standing up and gesturing dramatically as you and Stiles walked past. “Am I hallucinating, or are you two actually a thing?”

You paused mid-step, sharing a glance with Stiles. He looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole, but you straightened your shoulders, gripping his hand tighter.

“Not hallucinating,” you said simply, giving Jackson a tight smile before continuing toward your usual spot.

But Jackson wasn’t done. “No, seriously,” he called after you, ignoring Lydia’s warning glare. “Is this some kind of joke? Like, am I being punk’d?”

“It’s real, Whittemore,” Stiles said, his voice firmer than anyone expected. “Deal with it.”

Jackson stared, caught completely off guard. “Huh,” he muttered, sinking back into his seat. “Weird.”

At your table, Lydia and Allison were grinning like Cheshire cats.

“You guys are so cute,” Lydia said, leaning her chin on her hand. “It’s almost disgusting.”

“Almost,” Allison added, smirking. “But not quite.”

Stiles groaned, slumping down in his seat. “Please don’t make a big deal out of this.”

“Oh, honey,” Lydia said, her tone dripping with amusement. “It’s already a big deal.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a warmth to their teasing that made you smile. “You guys are the worst.”

“And you love us for it,” Lydia quipped, winking.

The comments from the lacrosse team started during practice that afternoon. Stiles had barely stepped onto the field before one of the guys clapped him on the back and said, “Dude, you’ve gotta teach me your secret. How the hell did you pull this off?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Stiles stammered, his ears turning red. “She… likes me?”

“Yeah, why though?” another player chimed in, earning a sharp look from Scott.

“Hey, leave him alone,” Scott said, though he couldn’t quite hide his grin. “It’s not that shocking.”

“Yes, it is,” Jackson muttered from across the field.

Coach Finstock chose that moment to stroll by, his whistle swinging around his neck. He stopped, squinting at Stiles before glancing at you, standing by the bleachers waiting for practice to end.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Coach said, his voice loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. “Stilinski, how did you manage to score the prettiest girl in school? Did you blackmail her or something?”

Stiles froze, his face turning bright red. “No, Coach!”

“Hmm,” Coach said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Whatever it is, keep doing it. Maybe it’ll improve your game.”

The team burst into laughter as Stiles groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

By the end of the week, the buzz around your relationship had reached a fever pitch. Some people were genuinely happy for you, while others—Jackson included—still couldn’t wrap their heads around it.

“Seriously,” Jackson said one day, cornering Lydia in the hallway. “You’re telling me this isn’t a prank? A long con? Some kind of social experiment?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Get over it, Jackson. They’re happy. Isn’t that enough?”

“For who?” he shot back, crossing his arms. “For you? For me? I mean, come on. Stilinski? Really?”

“Yes, really,” Lydia said sharply, her voice leaving no room for argument. “And for the record? They’re adorable together.”

The truth was, you’d been bracing yourself for the judgment. Stiles wasn’t like the other guys in your social circle, and you knew some people wouldn’t understand what you saw in him. But none of that mattered when you were with him.

He made you laugh when you least expected it. He listened when you needed to vent. He treated you like you were the only person in the room, even when the entire school was watching.

And when he walked you to class, carrying your books and rambling about his latest Star Wars theory, you couldn’t help but think:

Let them talk.

Because at the end of the day, you wouldn’t change a thing.

[zaceouiswriting]

The Football Stud: Fever

Character: Gabe x male reader, (mentioned) Nolan Halloway

Universe: Somewhere in Teen wolf

Warnings: Smut: hardcore, degradation, humiliation, feminization, mentioned non-con

Author's Note: Sorry for the late upload. I was going to post something for Christmas, but that's coming much later. I actually wanted to do something wholesome, but it turned into smut faster than I could see, and I lost interest in it, so I wrote a smutty half request instead. (Please don't ask about the logic; there is none) I hope you guys enjoy this one.

You felt uncomfortable even though it fit perfectly, and unfortunately, you had to admit that it didn't look bad on you as you admired yourself in the bathroom mirror.

“Are you coming or not?” Gabe’s deep voice bellowed authoritatively through the locker room, easily reaching your ear.

You swallowed nervously, not wanting to answer, as you knew he would be mad if you were honest. But you took a deep breath because you were even more afraid of his reaction if you didn't answer.

"I don't really feel comfortable showing-"

"Shut up and come out," he shouted, audibly annoyed, "so you can do literally the only thing a stupid fag like you is good for!"

It felt like he had just punched you right in the chest. You felt humiliated on so many levels, and yet you opened the bathroom door, which led straight into the changing room near the showers.

You would be in the locker room if you just walked around the corner. It had been nearly an hour since the football game ended, and the coach handed Gabe the keys to lock the room behind him. The only visible light was the static glow of the lamps in the room, as the sun had long since given way to the moon.

Head down, you rounded the corner with tiny steps. You didn't see Gabe right away, but you became very aware of him when you heard him whistle after you. The first time it happened, you felt exhilarated, even ecstatic.

There, Gabe sat comfortably on one of the benches against the wall. His body was now much more muscular, as he trained twice as much as he used to, but on his lips was the same superior, condescending smirk, still the same, yet so different.

"You look so fucking hot," he commented, beckoning you to come closer to him, which you did.

When you were in front of him, he ordered you to twirl. You saw his eyes darken with lust as he took another swig of his beer bottle. Technically, he wasn't old enough to drink yet, but the football team had some leeway, at least on university grounds.

He emptied his bottle, placed it safely under the bench, and then simply grabbed you by the waist and sat you on one of his legs.

“Look at this skirt,” he said, fascinated by the sight.

You had no idea where he got it, but right before the game, he gave you a backpack with a cheerleading uniform and something else you wouldn't even think about out of embarrassment. Still, you put on everything he gave you.

“Are you satisfied?” you asked, stuttering and uncertain.

“You can be fucking sure of that!” he boasted loudly. "And even more so if a certain slut had listened to me the first time and not made me wait so long!"

There was a danger gleaming in his eyes that you knew all too well. He'll punish you, force you to shout more than just his name, and treat you so roughly that you'll miss class again. Before starting, you knew you'd have to lie to the others again about all the bruises you'd come home with. Last time, your fraternity almost started a manhunt because they thought someone was forcing them on you, but you somehow managed to calm them down, even though you had to admit to some pretty dirty secrets of yours.

You felt his rough hand on your lower back, moving further down to your ass. Suddenly, you let out a yelp as the same big hand gave your behind a hearty squeeze.

“What a perky ass,” he mutters in a slightly slurred voice, “fuck!”

"Don't you want to sit on my lap, baby girl?" His lips were so close to your ear that you almost moaned reflexively. "I know a dirty slut like you would love to know how fucking hard you make me."

Before you knew it, he had pulled you onto his lap. Both his hands were on your waist as he vigorously ground your ass on his lap. You could feel his big cock getting hard and poking you through his tight football pants.

When you heard him moan softly, you felt the heat rise to your face; you had never heard him moan desperately like that before. Usually, he moans like a rutting bull as he relentlessly thrusts his cock into you, but this somehow felt much more intimate.

"Do I have to remind you what I am to you?" His voice, which had previously been filled with lust, was suddenly stern, even cold. You swallowed hard and couldn't answer. "Pretend you can't hear me?" His laugh was dry; you already knew he was done.

Without a word, he pushed you off his lap but held you up, standing in front of him. Just a second later, his large body overshadowed you, with his hands tightened around your waist once more.

"What a cute little girl," he murmurs into your hair, "So small and yet so disobedient."

Your blood ran cold. He seemed angry, even furious, but you didn't do anything that bad, right? But even if you argue with him, it won't help and will only worsen things.

He doesn't say another word. Instead, he wraps one arm around your waist and lifts you effortlessly. He carried you to some lockers in the middle of the room, sat you back down on the floor, and bent you forward slightly with his other hand while he told you in a barely whispered voice to hold on to the lockers for dear life.

You were already halfway gone from worry and desire—if you were a girl, you knew you would be soaked—now only pre-cum covered the surprise under your short skirt. You truly felt like a slut in that moment, just like Gabe had always told you. Even though you weren't entirely sure what would happen next, you knew you had to hide how much you were already enjoying it.

He traced his rough fingertips over your figure, dancing on your skin like a drunken wisp. By the time they landed on your skirt and took it in his hands, you felt him shudder. Fearing that something had happened, you turned your head only to see Gabe's sinister grin. When he caught your gaze, his intentions were more than clear.

“Aren’t you a pretty girl?”

There it was again. At first, you thought he was just maddened from drunkenness, but now it was clear. He was actually feminizing you. You should have known when he made you dress in a girl's cheerleading outfit.

As you were in thought, Gabe covered you completely with his body, pressing his head firmly into your nape, gently kissing your neck, and eliciting soft moans from your stunned body. His hands continued to explore the entire time, finding their way under your skirt and gently caressing your legs, but you were sure that this would be the only time he would be tender with you that night.

And as if you had summoned it, he ripped up your skirt and slapped your right butt cheek with so much force that it almost threw you flat against the locker, only for him to whistle as if nothing had happened.

"Bitch, you look good in lace!" Gabe slurred like the drunken stud he is, so needy and horny that it was hard to believe.

You didn't even know where he got it because the price tag was still on when you got it, and you almost fainted; it was so expensive that you knew he wanted to do this more often, or so you thought.

“I really can’t wait,” Gabe suddenly murmured as he leaned back in his standing position.

With a quick movement, he shifted the tiny piece of fabric that hid your hole to the side, circling it with his finger before attempting to enter it, only to be stopped as it had contracted too much. You could hear him swearing quietly, cursing you and your uselessness.

Before you knew it, Gabe had raised two fingers to your mouth and ordered you to wet them, as that was the only lube you would get.

Without hesitation, you took them between your lips, let your tongue dance on his long, salty, calloused fingers, and finally took them completely into your mouth, feeling them touch the back of your throat.

The second his fingers reached the back of your throat, all you heard was him cursing once again, angry that he didn't use your throat, even though he had trained it for so long not to gag, even when he shoved his huge cock all the way into your mouth with one sharp thrust.

You knew from the beginning that it would make him mad because you knew full well that deepthroating him was his favorite sensation, especially in a crowded university lecture hall.

Gabe only gave you about a minute before he pulled his finger out of your mouth and immediately, with a precision that a drunk man like him shouldn't have, slid his fingers inside your ass. You gritted your teeth, holding back the pain, knowing that Gabe hated it when you showed any emotion other than lust and desire for him.

Without even trying, this guy hit the spot that made your mind go blank for a second, and when you came back, you felt a pain in your forehead. You found yourself in direct contact with the metal side of the locker.

As his fingers aggressively penetrated your hole, a pain shot through your ass. But you didn't complain because that was all you would get before he took you at a pace so brutal that you'd thank God he'd even prepared you in any way, which was already something great of him, as it was something he didn't do all the time.

“That should be enough,” Gabe mumbled, something he probably didn’t even want to say out loud.

Suddenly, you feel him swaying from side to side, the alcohol clearly taking its effect. But he doesn't let that distract him and instead guides his cock, albeit with difficulty, to your hole.

Although you feared the brutal treatment you would receive, you could barely contain your anticipation of feeling him again. It had been a while, and your hole felt empty for quite a long time. As he circled your hole, you quickly became impatient. While you subtly tried to get his cock into you, all you got was a hard smack on your ass, which was glowing a bright red color at this point.

Gabe muttered under his breath, cursing you for being an impatient cockslut, a bitch that needed to be filled. Although it seemed odd to you that he was trying to feminize you, it did something deep inside you.

"You want this cock?" he asked smugly, his words becoming more slurred by the second. "I'll fill you up like the good little slut you are until your belly is full of my child!"

Without even waiting for an answer, he pushed his cock in and didn't stop, even when you felt it was getting too tight, but you knew it would fit, even if it hurt a little. So you bit your tongue and waited for the pain to subside instead of saying anything or even making a sound.

In one forceful motion, his hands wrapped painfully tightly around your hips, just under your skirt, so tight that it hurt, but you still didn't make a sound; he penetrated you.

Only when you finally felt his thick glans pressing against your prostate did you open your mouth, which was usually so large when he hadn't had anything to drink. This drew a long, intense moan from you, which, in turn, elicited a deep, sadistic chuckle from Gabe.

“That's the shit,” grunted Gabe, “Moan louder for me, bitch!”

As you felt another slap and his cock throbbing violently inside you, you were forced to give him exactly what he wanted. You gave him more, moaning sluttily and even going an octave higher than you thought possible, sounding almost like a real girl.

"God... fuck," he muttered quietly as his hands became a little more bearable. "That's my little girl, my good little slut!"

He even went so far as to pet your head, almost making you feel like he really cared about you. But the relentless pace of his thrusts told you otherwise. Although you wished things were different, you knew there would be nothing between you, nothing other than mind-blowing sex, that is.

Gabe's thrusts got even harder, his warm manhood burning so well in your hole, but the worst part for you was how precisely he hit your prostate each time. With every thrust deep into your bowels, barely visible on your stomach, he ripped your senses from their sockets again and again. It was almost torture, but you loved every second of it, feeling like you could fly, breathe underwater, and face the next day as if you had conquered it many times before.

At the limit of your senses, you felt one of his hands moving up your stomach to your pectoral muscles. He squeezes your slightly trained muscle, which elicits a satisfied grunt from him.

For a long moment, it was completely silent; nothing was said, and the only sounds echoing through the room were the rapid, rhythmic slapping of your skins and the animalistic noises Gabe made like the brute he was.

“I’m about to bust,” Gabe suddenly announced, although his breathing and voice were even.

You were speechless; he had never come so quickly and calmly, always out of breath, sweating like crazy. Now, he was none of that.

As announced, it took almost no time before a few thick jets of cum filled your insides with much-needed warmth.

Gabe didn't pull out as he usually would. Instead, you saw his hand on the locker wall next to your head as you returned to the plane of the living, his muscular body hard against your back, and his warm breath that smelled of beer and something fruity, maybe strawberries or something similar. Turning your head slightly, you saw him grinning smugly at you; your heart dropped into your skirt.

Suddenly, you felt something soft on your lips. You couldn't process the sight before you; Gabe was so close, his eyes closed and his sinful lips capturing yours in a gentle, warm embrace. It lasted only a fleeting moment, warm and completely unexpected.

“Such a good, pretty girl for daddy.”

Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red. You wanted to mock and belittle him for calling himself that, but you didn't. You felt warm and wanted for once. So you let it pass and looked away in embarrassment, but Gabe, with a gentleness you'd never experienced from him before, placed a finger around your chin and forced your head back without much effort.

"Don't look away, baby," he murmured against your lips before capturing them again.

This time, he didn't close his eyes, instead holding eye contact with a knowing glint in his eyes. But you couldn't hold the eye contact for long. You closed your eyes and melted in his embrace. Your tongues quickly entangled with his, clearly more dominant. He pulled you closer to him, both of his hands exploring the front of your body as if it belonged to him.

It wasn't until he separated the two of you that you realized you were no longer standing but sitting safely on Gabe's lap. He was now leaning comfortably against the wall, hands clasped behind his head, flexing his biceps the entire time, clearly visible even through his football uniform. You'd be lying if you didn't feel things you weren't too proud of.

"Now be a good little slut and ride me," he told you arrogantly. "I've made you cum three times already, and I only came once, so keep going, baby."

He massaged your upper body as if calming you down as he spoke. It worked somewhat, but as you tried to follow his orders, you realized something: your legs hurt too much to move. Panic rose in you, afraid of what would happen if he knew. So you tried your best and even put your hands on his thighs, using them as leverage to move yourself up. But your whole body felt heavy.

Before you knew it, your arms gave way, and you fell against Gabe's chest. You heard his angry breathing and felt his hot breath on your neck.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” you admitted sheepishly.

Suddenly, you felt a violent jolt and quickly found yourself on the cold floor. The skirt you had been given and the tight top were already worn out, even slightly torn, not to mention the lace underwear that was already crumpled and almost destroyed.

Gabe towered over you with his fists clenched. "You worthless bitch," he mutters, seemingly ready to dish out the worst punishment. But to your surprise, he just crouches down next to you. "I told you what will happen if you turn out to be worthless and unable to complete your one fucking job, you stupid whore!"

His voice was steady; none of the slurring you heard before was left as if he had never been drunk. Without hesitation, he spat in your face, stood back up, went to his backpack, and pulled out his phone.

Unable to move, you could only stare at him with wide eyes, horror coursing through your veins as you heard the disgusting words he used.

Just as you started to feel your legs again, the locker room door busted open. Loud laughter and energetic, indistinct conversations followed. The entire football team soon filled the room, but no one was looking at you as they greeted their quarterback. Gabe made pleasant conversation before folding his arms across his chest, not glancing in your direction once, just a small nod in your direction and more demeaning words.

When the team first looked at you, they were smug, calling you a needy slut who would even play a girl just to get some cock. Even though you felt bad, they had a point. But you still thought Gabe would say something in your defense, but he didn't.

Instead, even more horrible words came from him: He told his team that they could do whatever they wanted with you since you were useless to him now, but he wanted the cheerleading uniform and underwear back, even if they were in tatters.

You were too stunned, but when you saw Gabe, already changed and leaving, you stretched out your arm and begged him to take you with him. Instead, you only heard a scoff before he left the room and closed the door behind him.

As you were about to lower your hand, one of the boys took it with a wickedly grim grin. He gently stroked your hand, only to tell you to be a good slut to them because they weren't as generous as Gabe and would take drastic measures to make sure you did right by them.

Although you were disgusted and scared, you still nodded. You cried silently as you felt dozens of hands on you and someone supporting you. But when he was about to enter you, you screamed.

***

You woke up weakened, your body covered in a thick layer of sweat. Groaning in pain, you tried to find out where you were, only to find yourself in your fraternity bedroom.

“Thank God you’re awake,” you heard a gentle voice say.

You turned your head and smiled gently. "Nolan, what happened?"

Concerned, he touched your forehead, only to quickly pull away.

"You're not any better," he whispers lightly. "You fainted in one of your lectures, and our university doctor sent you back with Mark because you weren't so bad that you had to stay there. He did give him some medication for you, though."

You wanted to take the pills, but you couldn't move your body, just like in the locker room. Nolan quickly noticed this, put them in your mouth, and helped you drink some water.

You grimaced as the cold liquid ran down your throat, but then a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“Did something happen to Gabe or the football team?” you asked in a hoarse voice.

It was immediately obvious that Nolan was uncomfortable. You feared the worst and believed that your dream was actually reality. 

"Gabe came over but left when he heard you were sick," Nolan told you. "I still can't believe you tolerate him taking advantage of you like that."

Smiling and relieved that what you had experienced, even though it felt real, was only a dream, you gently stroked Nolan's hand.

"I wish he loved me as much as I love him, but I'm content with how things are right now," you said slowly, even though your throat hurt. "As long as I'm in this fraternity, I get the best of both worlds: mind-numbing sex with the person I love while also being able to cuddle with you guys and do all the cute couple things without anyone being pressured to feel anything."

Nolan sat there stunned, never having thought about it like you did, but he realized they actually treated you like their partner. All the time outside of class and when you weren't getting fucked by Gabe, they spent with you and your fraternity, cuddling, watching movies, playing games, and going out. None of them even had partners; they were completely focused on you.

You smiled as you slowly fell back asleep but asked Nolan to take care of you. Unconsciously, you laid your head on his hand, causing Nolan to get stuck.

A few hours later, someone else opened your bedroom door.

"Is everything okay?" The new person asked but got no answer. When he walked in, he saw Nolan holding you in his arms. "Damn, I must be late," he commented quietly, chuckling as she walked back out and closed the door behind her. Cursing himself for letting Nolan out of his sight.

[Masterlist]

[lfzyxf]

Issac lahey and his s/o giving each other affection, like s/o is giving him kisses all over his face when Scott walks in fluff please!

Just a short one this time! I hope you like it.

Isaac Lahey x gn!reader Word count: 385 Masterlist

It’s difficult to get some privacy when you’re constantly surrounded by your friends. You love your friends of course, but sometimes you just need some time alone with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who is currently struggling to keep his hands off of you. “Isaac-” you try just for him to shush you with a quick kiss to your lips making you laugh. One of his hands is resting on your waist, the other is gently playing with your hair. “Isaac, they’ll be here soon.”

He sighs at your words, “can a man not get some time alone with the love of his life?” You laugh again, shaking your head softly. “Not when our entire group of friends will be arriving any moment, no.” He kisses the top of your head sweetly “I’ll kick them out.” He states, nodding his head to affirm what he just said. “You’ll kick them out? You are going to kick Scott out of his own house?” You ask looking at him incredulously. He simply nods again in response, deciding that he has won the argument as he starts littering kisses all over your face. You can’t help but laugh softly at his actions, the soft feel of his lips against your skin slightly ticklish.

“Isaac-” once more you’re interrupted, this time not just by him kissing you once more, but this time by Scott walking inside. It only takes a moment before he’s looking at the two of you, his eyes moving from yours to Isaacs. The two of you stand there frozen, mimicking Scott as your eyes move from each other’s to his. “We-”, “I was just-” the two of you speak at the same time, spewing out excuses while Scott stands there, looking at you two. After a while of listening to you guys’ ridiculous excuses, he simply shakes his head and chuckles.

“You’ve got around five minutes before the rest of the group arrives- I’m just going to…wait outside.” He quickly walks back out the door, you and Isaac wait for a moment, waiting for the sound of the lock falling back in its place. And when you do, Isaac wastes no time to start his attack on you all over again. Only this time the both of you are laughing at the silliness of the moment.

[dylobilysmomg]

Cabin Fever

𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳

𝗣𝗮𝗶��𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟯.𝟭𝗸+

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝘂𝗯 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝘀𝗲𝗺𝗶 𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗽𝗻𝘃, 𝘂𝗻𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅 (𝗪𝗥𝗔𝗣 𝗨𝗥 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗬 𝗕𝟰 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗬!)

𝗢𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁: 𝗩𝗼𝗶𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗱

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗚𝘂𝘆𝘀 𝗜’𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜’𝗺 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗜’𝘃𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘀 𝗳𝗹𝗼𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺. 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!

𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙞𝙛! 𝙘𝙧��𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙤𝙬𝙣𝙚𝙧!

Going to Lydia’s cabin over spring break was by far your favorite thing about break. It was a tradition you all started sophomore year. As soon as you guys could drive, it was cabin every spring; and it was always a blast. Lydia’s cabin was gorgeous, and huge! It wouldn’t be dramatic to say there were like 10 bedrooms in that thing. It was massive, complete with a pool, hot-tub, and of course the lake that the backyard deck overlooked.

It was about 6 pm by the time you and your friends arrived. You and Stiles rode in your car, which was quite the hassle. Stiles doesn’t like to leave Roscoe unattended for so long. However, he couldn’t fight the fact that your car was newer (a lot newer) and therefore more reliable to go the 3 hour drive down to the cabin. So, Stiles drove your car. You two pulled up to the cabin and parked behind Scott and Allison in the roundabout driveway; Lydia and Kira in front of them, and Malia and Isaac behind you.

“Finally!” You groan, unbuckling and opening the door to climb out. Stiles does the same and you both stretch after being cooped up for 3 hours. The others park and get out of their cars, grabbing their bags and making their way toward the front door to the cabin.

“Y’all ready to do this?!” Scott tells from the porch, bags in his hands. Your friends woop in unison. “Every year, baby!” Stiles shouts back, grabbing his totes bags. You grab yours and follow your friends inside.

Once inside, everyone disperses, chit chatting while deciding which rooms they’re picking, how long the drive was, how excited they are, etc. You leave Stiles to chat with Scott as you catch up to Lydia and Kira to chat with them as they walk to their room for the week. Allison trots up to you girls, leaving Scott with the boys and Malia.

“So I see you three survived the drive.” You say to them as you three enter Lydia and Kira’s bedroom and they drop their bags to the floor. “Barely, Kira slept the whole time, I was practically asleep at the wheel!” Lydia counters, Kira giggling. “Hey I was catching up on some zzzs for the party we’re having tonight.” Kira replies. “Exactly! I’ve been dreaming about this trip for weeks, I’m dying to party! Allison says excitedly. “I wouldn’t call it a party, Allison.” Lydia says, “I would! You don’t need the whole school to throw a party. All you need is some alcohol, some music—“ “And me.” Lydia interrupts, flipping her hair and giggling.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Stiles this year, things are different.” Allison asks, nudging my shoulder with here. Though this is our third year as a friend group coming down to the cabin, this is the first that me and Stiles are attending as an item. “I don’t think it’ll feel any different than how we are at home. I mean, it’s not like we don’t have sleepovers or party together in Beacon Hills. Why would this be any different?” You say. “Becauseeee it’s a romantic getaway, with a side of friends and fun of course!” Kira interjects.

You scoff at her, playfully rolling your eyes in response. “Oh come onnnnn Y/N, this is the perfect time to make a real sexy move on him.” Lydia chirps in. “Oh please, being sexy is definitely not my thing. That charm doesn’t come that easily for me as it does you, Lyd.” You answer, and Allison giggles, but nonetheless agreeing with you. “I don’t believe that for a second. I know for a fact that Stiles has said how sexy you are just about a million times.” Lydia interjects, and you laugh. “Well yeah, of course he thinks I am, but that doesn’t mean that I think I am.” How did we even get to this topic? “Why don’t we drop this subject, we gotta get ready and pregame.” You say, changing the subject. “Yeah, and God knows you and Lyds need 3-4 business days to get ready.” Allison says, and the four of you laugh.

You leave the girls to unpack and make your way down the hallways to the room that you and Stiles usually stay in. Though this is your first cabin trip as a couple, you two have shared this room since the beginning. You pad into the room to see Stiles already unpacking his clothes and stuffing them into drawers.

“Hey babe, you can have the closet.” He says, glancing over to you briefly while putting his things away. “Thank God, I did not wanna have to play you in rock, paper, scissors.” You say, plopping your bags down on the bed to begin emptying them. “Why, because you always lose?” Stiles asks. “No, because you always cheat.” You reply, and he laughs. “You can’t cheat in rock paper scissors Y/N.” He says. “That’s what a cheater would say.”

“So what’s your plan tonight. What’s this I hear about a girls only pregame?” Stiles asks, baffled at such a thing. “We want to do our makeup and gossip before the bonfire tonight, so we’re just gonna pregame just cuz.” You reply, getting out your makeup bag.

“Why do you guys want to do makeup? We’re not even going anywhere?” Stiles asks, no grasp on the concept. “Stiles, we don’t have to be doing anything special to do our makeup. It’s just something to do for fun, make us feel pretty.” You roll your eyes playfully.

“Well I think you’re pretty all the time.” He says, still finishing up unpacking, but you stop in your tracks.

“Awe, Stilesssss.” You drawl, and he turns to you. “You know what? Nope, no I take it back!” He tries to escape your advances but he’s too late, you’re already wrapping your arms around his neck and peppering his face with kisses. “You’re so adorable.” You say, placing one final kiss on his lips. “I know, it’s part of my charm.” He smirks, and you roll your eyes, turning to finish unpacking.

After settling into your room, you begin to search for your outfit tonight. You all plan on having your fun out on the deck in the backyard that overlooks the lake. And of course, taking advantage of that pool and hot-tub. You pull out one of your bikinis, your chosen outfit, and your makeup bag before walking over to Stiles, who now sat on the bed on his phone. He looks up at you as you approach, and you give him a peck. “I’m getting ready in Lydia and Kira’s room, I’ll see you out there, stud.” You say, and Stiles laughs with an “Okay, have fun,” before you exit.

Cut to you, Allison, Lydia, Malia, and Kira all getting ready for the night. You sit on the floor doing your makeup, Lydia curling her hair in the connected bathroom, Allison and Malia debating outfits, and Kira getting shots ready for the pregame. It’s nice to spend some girls time together without it being supernatural for once.

“So, you and Stiles, huh? Any spicy plans?” Kira asks from beside you. “Why must you guys always insist that me and Stiles fuck every time we’re here?” You ask, recalling many instances through out the years that the girls have tried to hook you up with Stiles. “Because now that you two are finally exclusive, we actually have a reason to expect some devising.” Lydia yells out from the connected bathroom.

“Oh come on, Y/N, haven’t you at least thought about tonight?” Allison asks, settling on some black jean shorts and a gray tank top. “I mean yeah, sure, but I really don’t see the point in day dreaming. You guys act like me and Stiles have never fucked.” You argue.

You finish your makeup and grab your dark green bikini. “Did you at least bring a super sexy bikini to send him overboard.” Lydia asks, strutting out of the bathroom in her scrunchy red two piece. Malia whistles at her and the rest of you laugh. “Lydia, I brought the same bathing suit I wear every year.” You reply, holding up the dark green fabric. Lydia gasps, snatching it out of your grasp. “Y/N you are NOT wearing this. That is practically social suicide. Are you trying to put his dick to sleep?! Not to worry, I have just the thing for you.”

You sit down on the bed by Allison, “Lyds, seriously, that green one is fine.” Malia laughs, “No offense, Y/N, but if I had a dick, it would definitely be soft if you wore that thing.” You just groan in defeat. Lydia grabs a new bikini for you from the bathroom and holds it up for all the girls to see. Everyone whistles and woops but you can’t help but be silent in shock. “Lydia how am I supposed to even fit in that! There’s barely anything covering the top.” You laugh. taking it into your hands. “That’s the whole point, babes. Now let’s hurry up and get this party started!” She says, and as if on cue, you all eek with excitement.

Next thing you know, you’ve got the perfect buzz. You and Allison are the last ones to make it to the back deck. You’re wearing your beat up shoes, some blue jean shorts, and the bikini top, bottoms underneath the shorts. You and Allison step outside to see the boys and Kira already in the pool playing with a volleyball. You two join the girls by the side of the pool and you dig through the cooler for a drink. “Who’s winning?” You ask as you watch Scott and Isaac team up against Kira and Stiles. Malia laughs, “Not sure, can’t keep track over Scott and Stiles’ shit talk.”

You, Allison, Lydia, and Malia talk and drink by the poolside while you guys watch Stiles and Kira get destroyed by Scott and Isaac. The music plays loudly as you turn your head away from the intense volleyball game, “I don’t know about you guys but I’m getting in.” You say, finally past the point from buzzed to tipsy. You stand up, and the girls follow your actions. You take your shoes off and pull your shorts down. And as if almost immediately, Stiles’ eyes are on you. His mouth is practically hanging open at the sight.

You and the girls jump into the pool, screaming from the slightly cool water. You swim up for air and you’re met with Stiles. It seems as if the volleyball game has come to a halt. “About time you joined me.” He says, hands on your waist. You slide your hands up his chest to wrap your arms around his neck. You giggle, “What, you miss me?” He smiles, leaning his head down a little, “Always.” He replies, dipping his head down to envelope your lips with his own.

You two have seemingly forgotten all about the volleyball game until you hear Lydia quip, “Get a room or get your heads in the game!” She shouts, causing you to finally separate from Stiles.

After some volleyball, marco polo, and some racing, you all decide to gather around the fire pit on the deck for a drunk game of Never Have I Ever.

You sit on the deck floor with Malia and Kira, not enough chairs to go around, not you you three minded. “Okay okay, my turn, my turn.” Allison slurs excitedly, “Never have I ever had sex at school.” She says, and everyone looks around as Lydia drops a finger, as well as Stiles and yourself.

“No way!” Kira exclaims to you, Scott and Stiles sharing a high five. “I expected Lydia, but you Y/N?! Who are you and what’ve you done with my best friend?!” Kira yells, Allison crying from laughter. “I knew it!” Alli yells.

“Okay okay, enough!” You laugh, “I’ll go, I’ll go! Never Have I Ever gotten caught by my parents.” You say, watching as Allison and Scott drop a finger, as well as Stiles’. “Hey you’ve been caught, drop it.” Stiles points, and you hold up your hands, “Hey we got caught by your dad, not my parents. Doesn’t count.” You argue, and Stiles laughs.

After a long night of games and talking by the fire, everyone slowly retreats to their rooms for the night. All except you and Stiles, who now sit by the fire alone.

“You ready to head in?” Stiles asks, standing up from his seat, finishing the beer in his hand. You stand up as well, and Stiles is under the impression that you’re about to walk inside til you start to undo your shorts buttons. “No way, I wanna test out the hot tub.” You say, sliding your shorts down your silky legs agonizingly slow, practically teasing Stiles.

At first Stiles isn’t convinced to join, “Babe, it’s getting late. We have a whole week to test out the hot tub.” He says, watching in defeat as you walk over and sip a foot into the steaming tub. You step in and make yourself comfortable, eyeing him from afar.

“Oh come on, Stilinski. You really gonna tell me no?” You poke at him, and he shakes his head before walking over and jointing you in the hot tub.

As soon as he sits down beside you though, you’re already standing up in the tub to move and sit in his lap. Stiles is a little take back by your forward actions, but is in no place to complain. You straddle his lap, arms sliding up to grasp his shoulders.

“You’ve fallen into my trap.” You slur, clearly more drunk thank Stiles. Stiles looks at you with hooded eyes, hands moving to splay along your thighs, lightly squeezing whenever he felt necessary. “Well what’re you gonna do now that you’ve lured me in here.” He asks you, his voice low and husky.

You don’t answer, instead dipping your head to connect your lips with his. His large hands wander all over your body, two handfuls of you will never be enough.

You grind into his lap, earning moans of his that slip into your mouth. His mouth peels away from yours to attack your throat, “Stiles,” You let out breathlessly, “no hickeys.” You say, and Stiles hums in response.

Stiles trails his lips from your neck down to you chest, methodically placing wet kisses between the valley of your breasts. Your hands move to tug at his wet, brown locks. Stiles’ hand wisps to your back and up to your neck, pulling the string that holds the two triangles of fabric up.

Stiles pulls the string, watching as your bikini top flips down to reveal yourself to him. Stiles moves your long hair from your shoulders, flipping it behind your back so he can view you in all your glory.

He envelopes a nipple into his mouth without warning, swirling his tongue as he does so. He’s got a free hand groping your other, your nimble fingers yanking at the hair at the base of his head.

You’re grinding down into him hard, and you can feel his boner pressing deliciously between your two swim bottoms.

“Stiles, I need—“ Stiles cuts you off with a searing kiss to the lips, “I know what you need, baby.” He answers, his hand moving down between you two.

Your breaths are harsh and shallow with anticipation as his long fingers move your bottoms to the side, swiping his middle finger through your wet folds agonizingly slow. You moan out, arching into his touch.

Stiles dips his finger into your heat, giving you a few pumps before adding another. You drop your head to his shoulder, your moans right in his ear. But soon enough, his fingers aren’t enough. You need more.

“Stiles, please.” You plead, your hands reaching for the waistband of his swim trunks. “What is it baby, what do you want?” He asks you, taunting you. You grind down on his fingers, “Please, fuck me, Sti.” You beg, and he smirks, hearing exactly what he wanted.

Stiles then pulls his fingers from your heat, and you’re about to dip your hand into his trunks when he stops you. He moves you from his lap to stand in the waist-deep water. You’re not entirely sure what he’s doing until he pushes you towards the edge of the hot tub. He places his hands on your back, pushing you down til your hands grip the edge of the hot tub.

Stiles’ hands leave your body, pulling his trunks down to release his aching erection. Then he’s lining himself up with your entrance, teasing you at first with only the tip. You’re about to whine out for more when his hands find your shoulders, aggressively pushing your front down onto the edge of the hot tub.

Stiles starts to ram into you relentlessly, gripping your shoulders tight as you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, yeah you like that? This what you wanted, baby?” He dirty talks you from behind, your mouth agape as you let out the most delicious sounds.

“Oh Stiles, yes, yes, you fuck me so good.” You tell him, his cock kissing that special spot inside you with every thrust. Stiles snakes a hand down to where you two meet, his fingers moving to abuse your swollen clit.

It’s not much longer before you’re a complete moaning mess beneath him, your release quickly approaching. “Stiles, I’m close.” You warn him, and he speeds up his pace a bit, chasing his high. His fingers work in circles on your clit until you’re shaking under his hold, orgasm swallowing you whole.

You’re squirming beneath him as he abuses your cunt, riding out your high and his approaches. “Oh fuck, Stiles! Cum in me, please Sti.” You moan, your hands gripping the edge of the hot tub.

Stiles doesn’t need to be told twice. He plows you from behind, hips slapping against you til he’s hunching over you, moaning into your ear as he spills himself into you. “Awe, fuck.”

After a moment, he slows his thrusts before slowly slipping out of your heat. You turn to finally face Stiles, completely fucked out. He yanks his trunks back up and you re-tie your bikini top.

Stiles grabs you by the waist to pull you into his arms, “We should definitely do that again. Soon. Very soon.” He says, placing a kiss to your swollen lips. You agree with him, “Let’s go inside before someone realizes we’ve been out here alone this whole time.” You suggest, and Stiles releases you from his hold and you two step out of the hot tub together.

You saunter in front of him, your ass providing the perfect view for your boyfriend. “Round two upstairs?” Ask as you approach the door inside, Stiles behind you. “All day.” He replies. He watches as you skip your way inside, taking his time strolling behind you.

“I’m so winning this bet with Scott.”

𝟏/𝟐𝟑/𝟐𝟒

[samdeancass]

The Side Nobody Ever Sees

Pairing: Theo x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Theo, Y/N

Description: There is a side to Theo that nobody ever sees, apart from Y/N

Most people perceive Theo as a bad guy who is always up to no good. He has only a few friends and the ones he does have often lead him astray. He puts up a persona that keeps them at arm's length. However, with you, Theo is an entirely different person. His tough persona melts away, and he relaxes in your presence. Theo knows he doesn't have to hide who he truly is with you, and he loves you for that. You accept who he is, and that's all he could ever ask for. You see the side of him that nobody else ever gets to see, and that means so much to you; he trusts you enough to let his guard down.

You heard his car pulling up into the driveway, and immediately, butterflies erupted in your stomach. You stopped what you were doing and rushed to the front door, a big smile on your face and your arms open wide for him to fall into. The door swung open and slammed shut, Theo's shoulders sagging as he dropped his bag to the floor. He smiled when he looked up and saw your open arms, immediately walking forward and filling the empty space between them.

"Hey, baby. Long day?" He nodded into your neck, pressing soft kisses into the sensitive flesh. "How can I make you feel better?" Theo lifted his head so his eyes met yours. "Absolutely nothing, princess. You're enough to brighten my day." A slight blush crept onto your face as you kissed his cheek. He took your hand in his and led you over to the sofa. "All I feel like doing is curling up on the sofa with my girl and watching trashy movies. How does that sound?" You sat down and curled up in his arms, your chin resting on his chest. "That sounds perfect."

Theo flipped through the different movies on Netflix until he found one you both wanted to watch. He settled back into the sofa, bringing you into his chest and resting his chin on your head. Your hands found their way to his shoulders and pulled him closer to you, a feeling of safety and love blanketing the both of you. Soon enough, as you always do, you fell asleep. This is evident by the soft snores coming from your nose. Theo chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "This, you, is all I could ever want. You bring out the best in me, Y/N. I can't wait to make you my wife." Theo fell asleep a few minutes late, the sounds of both of your breathing merging into one.

Teen Wolf Tags:

@akshi8278 @bxoken-heartss @hellomyweirdos @redcoatgirl

[sourwulf]

i beg of you to do a plus size reader (who's got a lot of shame around her body and stuff) fic with stiles where he takes her virginity after they start dating but he's not super experienced, but it's still really good for her

༄  word count  —  3.6k

፨  characters  —  stiles stilinski

☓  tw  —  none

⊹  cw  —  smut & oral, losing of virginity, mentions of body insecurity

☼  a/n — i'm plus size and the first person i ever dated wasn't so i love this idea. also this is a bit longer than most of my other stories, so enjoy :)

✎  masterlist

─

if you could've seen the way stiles looked at you when you had your back turned, you would melt. such adoration, such attraction, it was hard to find. at least, for you it was.

you'd always been bigger, since the second you were born. you were a chunky baby, and despite hoping it was just baby fat you'd grow out of, it stayed. you spent your entire life doing your darndest to hide it, wearing baggy clothes and adjusting them every chance you got.

so when stiles, a lanky skinny guy on the lacrosse team, asked you out, all you could think of was the weight difference.

but stiles didn't really notice. in fact, the only thing he saw when he looked at you was beauty. he thought you had a body that would've been immortalized in a statue back in ancient greece, give or take a few pounds.

you didn't see it but the first time he laid eyes on you, he couldn't take them off for a good thirty seconds. just watching you at lunch, wondering what you were looking at on your phone that made you smile.

there was one day you were at your locker, absentmindedly messing with your books and binders. you weren't far from where stiles was standing with his friend scott, who was also getting what he needed out of his locker.

the immersion was only broken when scott pulled his attention away.

"dude, if you think she's pretty go ask her out," scott insisted, finding you in his eyesight after a few seconds. "you've been pining over her for weeks."

stiles shook his head. "no, man, she's out of my league."

"yeah, so is every girl here." stiles rolled his eyes at the quip. "just go talk to her. she seems nice."

it was just then that you closed your locker and walked toward them, and stiles turned away from you and tried to act casual, like he wasn't just staring intensely at you. you passed them, not even noticing that they were there. once you were out of earshot, stiles leaned against the lockers.

"she's gone now, so..."

scott sighed. "if you wanna date you're gonna have to get over your fear of talking to girls."

"i'm not afraid of talking to girls. i'm awkward. you and i both know that."

"some girls like that."

"what if she doesn't?"

"you'll never know if you don't try."

the bell rang, and stiles stepped away from the lockers. "i'll see you at practice?"

"yep, see you then."

a couple of hours went by before your study hall period. you were in the library, skimming the books in the social studies section, attempting to find one about women's fashion in the 1700s for a book report.

as soon as you pulled a book off the shelf, just like a scene out of a movie, you revealed stiles' face on the other side. he came into the library because he'd seen you enter a few moments before. he didn't know you were right there only feet away from him, but the movement made him look up from the book in his hands. his eyes went wide at your lack of noticing him, reading the description of the book instead.

he studied your face, this being the closest he'd been to you thus far. he noticed the streaks of unnatural colors in your hair, the slight smile on your lips as you realized this was exactly the book you needed. you didn't look back up, instead walking away to check out the book.

he could see you at the register from where he was standing, and when you felt eyes on you, you looked over. his lips were slightly parted, his posture slumped a bit. he had kind eyes, which locked onto you for a moment.

you gave him a small wave, which he didn't return out of panicked awkwardness. when he realized how creepy it might look for him to be staring intently at you, he instead looked away and walked to the end of the aisle, hiding himself from your vision.

you were slightly confused, wondering what that was about.

after about fifteen minutes and you sitting down at a table tucked away in a corner away from other people, the same boy caught your attention. he was looking around to find somewhere to also sit, every other table full of people.

but when he found your table, he stopped in front of it. he didn't speak for a second, just looking at you.

"can i help you?" you asked, not really knowing what else to say.

"oh, uh... sorry. i didn't mean to stare. i didn't mean to stare earlier, either, i just saw you checking out books and didn't realize i was staring until you waved." he realized he was rambling. "do you mind if i sit here?" he motioned toward the chair across from you.

"sure."

once he was seated, his backpack in the chair next to him, he looked at you again.

"stiles." he held his hand out to shake. you took it and shook a couple of times.

"y/n."

"nice to meet you." you gave a small, awkward but friendly smile. "whatcha reading?"

you hesitated, not used to engaging in conversation with strangers. "i'm doing a book report on fashion evolution in the last few centuries. this one is specifically about women's fashion."

"oh, cool."

you looked down at the books he'd laid down in front of him, noticing that they were all different subjects.

"what about you? very different topics there."

"uh..." he thought for a moment. "can i be honest?" you raised your eyebrows in a 'go ahead' manner. "i kind of came in here as an excuse to talk to you."

now your eyebrows dipped down in confusion.

"what?"

"i... i noticed you a little while back. in the cafeteria. i was too chicken to say anything then, but i've been looking for an opportunity to say hi."

"oh."

he nodded. "i hope that's not too weird. i just... thought you were pretty."

you almost chuckled. "pretty?"

"yeah."

"you think i'm pretty?"

he was the one confused now.

"yeah...? why? what's wrong?"

"nothing's wrong, i just... i've never had anyone tell me that before."

"seriously?" you nodded. "you really caught my eye the first time i saw you."

"what exactly was it about me that caught your eye?"

"you were smiling at something on your phone, a text or something. you just had a really warm smile. you looked really pretty."

you could feel butterflies flapping quickly in your stomach, not used to this.

the two of you talked for what felt like hours. you learned that he was on the lacrosse team, and he geeked out talking about his jeep. it was easy to connect with him, conversation coming naturally to you, as if you'd known each other for your whole lives.

eventually, he asked you out on a date, to which you agreed. one date turned into two, then three, then six. movies, dinner, stargazing, double dates. on the sixth date, he invited you over to his house for the first time.

his car was the only one parked in the driveway, his dad at work that night. it was a nice house, nicer than you expected them to be able to afford.

he cooked for you, a simple plate of spaghetti being infinitely better than the food you'd gone out to eat with him. you sat side by side at the round dining room table, the lack of space between you two palpable.

"you're a really good cook, stiles."

with a mouthful of noodles he said, "thank you."

"i don't cook a lot, i need to learn how to. i really like baking, though."

"oh yeah, i remember you talking about that. next time it's your turn to supply the food, then."

you chuckled. "will do."

he watched you eat, distracted from his own food. there was something almost seductive about the way you ate pasta, intentional or not. the way you slurped the noodles past your lips, the sauce that stained them, he wasn't sure. it was like he was watching you in slow motion, like some cheesy eighties movie that zoomed in on your lips.

something came over him. he waited until you swallowed that bite, and he gently grabbed your face and pulled you in for a kiss. it was so gentle it was like he was afraid to do it. it caught you off guard but you melted into his lips, your entire body tensing up.

when he pulled away, you looked at each other, your eyes wide.

"oh," you whispered, not knowing what else to say.

"i-i'm sorry. i shouldn't have-"

"it's okay. that was... that was good."

"yeah?"

"yeah."

"probably not the best kiss you've ever had."

"stiles, that was the only kiss i've ever had."

you'd already told him your lack of past relationships, and he couldn't help but think how blessed he was that he got to be your first experience dating. he was truly lucky.

"oh, right."

"i don't really have anything to compare it to, but it was good."

"yeah?"

"mhm. just... next time don't be so afraid to kiss me."

as if that was his cue, he immediately pulled you back in for another one. you dropped your fork and gripped the edge of the table, kissing him back as if you knew how.

the next thing you knew, you were standing at the side of his bed, his hands gripping your ribs and him continuing to kiss you. with his lips still against yours, he unzipped your jacket and gently pushed it off your shoulders. it dropped to the floor around your feet, and he broke the kiss to look down at your body.

you had on a simple knit sweater, one that was a bit more fitted than most of your clothes.

as his hands slowly slipped under the material, you stopped them.

"what's wrong?" he whispered.

"uh... it's just... i don't want you to be disappointed by what you see."

"what do you mean?"

"i mean... i don't look like the other girls at school."

"in what way?"

you furrowed your brows. "c'mon, stiles, i know you know what i'm talking about."

"elaborate."

"i'm not... thin. i don't have that great of a body."

"seriously? that's what you think?"

"well, yeah. i have a mirror, stiles. i know what i look like."

"not from my perspective."

"i mean, i guess so. but you have to admit, i'm different from them." as you spoke, he unbuttoned your jeans while maintaining eye contact. "i'm serious."

"i know. i get that you feel that way but i don't think that when i look at you."

"what do you think?"

"i think you're out of my league." this made you chuckle. "i'm serious. i told scott the exact same thing the day we met."

"did you now?"

"you can ask him yourself." your pants were now undone, but he stopped before he went any further. "let me show you how beautiful i think you are."

"mm, how are you gonna do that exactly?"

"i may have to just make you wait and see."

you thought for a second before reaching down and pulling your sweater over your head. you felt like your heart was going to pound out of your chest, or stop entirely. you'd never taken your shirt off in front of a boy before, and you were a bit scared about what his reaction would be.

but the look in his eyes as he looked at you made you feel like the prettiest girl in the entire world. your anxiety melted away when you saw the look in his eyes. it was a look of true love, one no one had ever given you.

"wow," he whispered, studying your body.

"okay?"

instead of answering, he planted another kiss on your lips. he wrapped one arm around your back to pull you against him, his other hand cupping your face to hold you close.

he reached around you and gripped the hooks of your bra.

"can i take this off?" he asked into your mouth, to which he received a nod.

this level of vulnerability and openness wasn't something you were used to giving. not one soul had seen your boobs since you went shopping for training bras with your mom and she had to teach you how to use them. that was around the time you'd become truly aware of your weight and body, and decided that you weren't going to show it to anyone for a long, long time.

he continued kissing you as he struggled to unhook it, eventually getting it. to be fair, it was a bit of a difficult one to unhook.

he didn't look down at first, wanting to continue kissing you. his palm laid flat against your back where your bra band previously was, and you let the straps fall off your shoulders and it fell to the floor.

when he did finally take the opportunity to look at your bare chest, he took in a deep breath.

"wow," he said for a second time.

the urge to cover yourself was overwhelming, almost burning. so when your arms gave in and wrapped around your stomach, he pulled them away.

"why're you doin' that?" he whispered.

"just... not used to anyone seeing me."

"well, get used to it. you're so beautiful."

"you really think so?"

"i don't see how you don't."

"you know, just constant years of bullying." you were slightly joking but also not, that being the main reason for your insecurity. a slightly sad expression formed on his face. you looked down and shook your head. "sorry, i didn't mean to kill the mood."

he hooked his finger under your chin and made you look back up at him.

"don't apologize. it's okay." you nodded. "but i promise i'm gonna make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world. because you are."

you smiled and kissed him, pulling his hand up to cup your breast. he took in a sharp breath at this, his thumb gliding over your nipple.

"your turn to take something off."

he obeyed, pulling his shirt up and over his head. he had a patch of chest hair and a couple of moles here and there, but you noticed the scars on his stomach and ribs too. you ran your thumb over one of them and he looked down at it.

"what are these from?"

he sighed. "long stories. they're old, though."

you decided not to pry, realizing he didn't want to talk about old injuries before having sex with you for the first time.

a moment later, you were on your back in his bed, your head on his pillow. he slowly pulled your already undone pants down your legs and kissed the skin as they came off. he decided to go ahead and strip himself of his, leaving both of you in only your underwear. there were only two layers of thin clothing separating you, and as he leaned back down to kiss you, you could feel the tent in his pants growing.

he pressed a kiss to your neck, then your collarbone, then your chest, before engulfing your right nipple in his mouth. he circled it with his tongue for a moment before continuing down your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your stomach.

to have someone love your body instead of shame it made you tremble, not used to the pure affection bursting from his body, leaking from his pores.

he hooked his fingers under your panties, looking at you for permission, which you granted with a hesitant nod. you kept your thighs together for a moment before he kissed your knees, resting his chin on them after a few seconds.

"you don't have to hide anything from me, y/n." he ran his hands up and down your outer thighs and gave a soft smile. "you look so beautiful right now."

this boy was love drunk, his eyes soft and watery. you didn't think it was possible so see an expression so full of love, so desperate to show amore.

you spread your legs, bracing yourself to show all of you to him, to expose your most private areas. but he looked at you like he was an addict, like he needed you just to function.

he'd fallen for you fast, and he'd fallen hard.

after a few seconds he was on his belly, licking and lapping at you like you were a pot of honey. you couldn't hold back the sounds that escaped your throat, unable to describe how good he was making you feel.

you'd masturbated plenty, unsure when it would be someone else pleasuring you. all you'd had was your hand and fingers, and this was way different. it was much warmer, much wetter.

his much stronger than expected hands holding you exactly where he needed you meant all you could do was arch your back. him forcing your hips to still almost made it better, more intense.

because this was the first time you'd been eaten out, you felt your orgasm coming quickly, and when you finally reached your climax, the only sound that came out was a loud and long gasp. you couldn't keep your hips from leaving the mattress as much as he tried to control your movements.

he'd told you before that he wasn't super experienced, only having had sex with one person before you. but you couldn't help but wonder how many times he did this in the past to get him this good at it.

once he was back at your lips to kiss you, he was rock hard, and him grinding against you gave you an idea of what you were in store for.

once his underwear were off and he was sliding a condom on, you got a good look. he was bigger than you expected him to be, but it looked like something you could handle. he was thick too, and you knew you'd be getting stretched out.

"are you still okay with this?" he whispered, kissing your jaw.

"yes, stiles. please." you didn't know why you were begging, it's not like he wasn't going to fuck you if you didn't. but you were antsy, desperate, horny.

he looked into your eyes. "i... shit, i might not last long. it's been a minute."

"that's okay."

"i still want it to be good for you."

"i know it will be. it's okay if you don't. it's my first time, i don't want it to be a marathon."

he nodded. "okay. ready?"

"so ready."

he kissed you as he slid into you, the feeling different than you expected. better than you expected.

once he was fully seated in you, you both let out a soft moan.

"okay?" he asked.

"mhm. i just need to get used to it."

he was gentle, tender with you. he was going slowly as to not hurt you, but it was too slow. you needed more motion and he picked up on that.

"stiles, please, go faster."

he adjusted his position, bending his knees a bit more and pushing your thighs closer to your stomach. he picked up his speed and your moans were already becoming more desperate, more whiny.

"shit, you feel so good," he grunted, trying not to go too fast.

"you do too."

his lips latched onto your neck and his hands balled the sheets under you. the sounds of your wanton moans bounced off the walls and were like music to his ears. he was starting to have to control himself, making sure not to cum too early.

but you could tell he was getting there closer than he expected to. his grunts were becoming more frantic, chasing his orgasm.

after a couple of minutes, it was becoming more and more difficult to hold it off.

"stiles, stop holding back." your commands were gentle and sweet, you wanted him to feel as good as possible too. "i know you're close."

"it hasn't been that long."

"it's okay." that last one was cut off by an uncontrollable moan. "cum for me, stiles." you weren't used to using language like this, so you couldn't help but cringe internally, but those words drove him over the edge. he was thrusting much rougher than he meant to, holding back his orgasm making it even more intense for him.

he busted into the condom, filling it quickly. he slowed his movements, stopping a few thrusts later. he gently kissed you, your hands landing on his ribcage.

it took a few minutes for either of you to catch your breath, and he pulled out of you, tossing the condom in his trash can, and laying beside you. he covered both of you with his comforter, noticing how cold it was in his room.

neither of you spoke for a moment before he reached down and pulled your hand to his lips, kissing the back of your palm.

you laughed silently, looking over at him.

"was that okay? for your first time?"

you nodded. "it was."

"good. i promise next time it'll be better."

"i'm gonna hold you to that, stilinski."

"challenge accepted."

it wasn't long before you drifted to sleep, stiles watching you snore softly with nothing but love in his heart.

[perseephoneee]

Can you do a isaac lahey imagine where the reader us on her period and freaks out and doesn't know what to do so lydia tells him what to do

hehe yes omg

period talk (isaac lahey x f!reader)

warnings: fluff, period talk, dumb boy

a/n: try the drink mentioned if you want to imagine running through hogwarts on a winter day.

↳ masterlist ↳  want to be shipped with a fic character?

Isaac wouldn't admit it, but he loved the cold weather. He liked when the winter season would hit, and holidays were a topic of conversation. Holidays were the only time his Dad treated him like he was actually proud of him, and despite that fucked up relationship, Isaac couldn't help but romanticize the season. It's why, when Beacon Hills hit a new low for the weather, he was excited to see you at school. Perhaps he could even convince you to skip class and get hot coco with him.

Unfortunately for him, your period had started therefore your mood was sour. The cold just added to your discomfort, and you basically hissed at him when he came by your locker.

"Woah, what did I do?" Isaac recoiled, a nervous laugh on his lips. You took a deep breath before turning and facing him.

"Nothing, you did nothing," you sighed. "I'm just...not doing great."

"Whats wrong?" Isaac inquired, brows furrowed and concern evident on his face. You loved your cute werewolf boyfriend, and while he was very helpful, he probably couldn't do much for you right now.

"I'm on my period," you admitted with a twinge of shame. Talking about these things was never fun, even to someone you trusted. A blush coated Isaac's cheeks as he processed what you said.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Should I, uh, do something?" Isaac stammered, hands in his pockets.

"Just be you, I'm a big girl and can handle myself," you chuckled, lightly slapping his arm as you closed your locker and started in the direction of class. Isaac stood in the hallway a moment longer, before deducing a game plan and targeting the area of the school he knew the familiar red head would be. She was typing on her phone when he ran up beside her, backpack slung lazily over his shoulder.

"I need your help," Isaac said hurridly, earning a squeak of surprise form Lydia. She set two angry eyes at him, and he resisted the urge to run away. Women did not like him much today.

"Stop sneaking up on me like that," Lydia rolled her eyes, putting her phone in her purse. "What is it?"

"Y/N is on her period, and I want to help, but I don't know what to do, and you're a girl and you're smart so I thought you'd have some ideas?" Isaac rushed, lips pressed in a thin line as Lydia cocked a brow at him.

"Why do you have to make everything so dramatic?" Lydia huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Isaac sent her a look though that showed that he wasn't going to figure anything out, anytime soon. "Look, unless she asks for products, don't bother trying to buy her them-- you'll likely get the wrong ones anyway. Get her her favorite warm drink, a heating pad, blanket, maybe an activity or something calming."

"Drink, heating pad, blanket, activity, got it," Isaac listed out everything, brows scrunched together in concentration. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, during this time, she's always right. Even if you think she isn't, just agree that you're wrong and she's right. Otherwise, she'll claw your eyes out," Lydia crossed her arms, daring Isaac to challenge her. He stayed quiet though, and she loosened up her stance. "I have to go, have fun, don't get killed."

Isaac was never that great at social cues, but he really liked you, and that was enough. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling taking pit in his stomach, he skipped out on school to go get the necessary things Lydia listed. Starting off with a butterbeer chai, a concoction you created (two pumps caramel, two pumps toffee, caramel drizzle, and chai); going to CVS for a heating pad and a blanket; then finally the bookstore down the street where he found a book you wanted (after searching through his phone for fifteen minutes trying to find the text where you mentioned wanting a new release). By the time he had finished his grand adventure, school was out and he would be able to surprise you.

You were having a crappy day with a side of more absolute garbage, so you were very pleasantly surprised when your golden hair boyfriend comes bounding up the street as you exit the school building.

"Woah, where's the fire?" you chuckle. You finally take notice of the bags he's carrying, as well as the drink.

"These are for you," Isaac stutters, passing you the drink. You peer in the bag and can't hide the grin on your face as you take in the plethora of supplies he got. "I know you weren't doing well, and I felt bad, so I got some stuff."

"Isaac, you are the sweetest puppy of a boyfriend a girl could ask for," you smile, wanting nothing more than to pick him up and twirl him around (he is too tall, you are too small). "How did you know what to get?"

"I asked Lydia," he mumbles, staring at his feet. You fight back a chuckle.

"Probably the smartest thing you could've done."

"That was my thought process as well," he chimes, scratching the back of his neck and shooting you a grin. You lean up, kissing him on the corner of his mouth and looping his arm through yours.

"C'mon, lets go hide from the cold together and I'll bitch to you about life," you chime, the cold dusting yours and Isaac's cheeks in shades of pink.

"Sounds perfect, just like you," Isaac smiles, kissing the top of your head as you walk off back home.

[chloe-skywalker]

Friendly Or Flirting? - Scott Mccall

Scott x Fem!reader (Crush/ not together yet)

Warnings: none (Insecure feelings?)

Word count: 548

Summary: Scott doesn’t like the Alpha twins hitting on Y/n.

Masterlist

Teen Wolf Masterlist

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“What’s going on?” Scott asks as he comes to a stop next to Stile and Isaac in the school hallway.

“Nothing.” Stiles shakes his head quickly not believing Scott needed to know, but Isaac ruined Stiles' plan.

“Just watching Y/n get hit on by the twins.” Isaac smirks, but then gets hit upside the head by Stiles.

“Dude.” Stiles looked at him with a glare.

“What?” Scott looks at them with shock and panic.

“Over there.” Isaac nodds his head to where Y/n’s with the alpha twins. “They’ve been flirting with her for the last 15 minutes.”

Scott looks to where Isaac nodded to with wide eyes. “Seriously?”

Stiles nodds. “Yeah.”

“What do you think it’s about?” Scott questions, watching every movement they made towards his friend.

Stiles raises a brow at the true alpha. “What like ulterior motives?”

“They could just think she’s hot.” Isaac shrugged his shoulders, he’d admit Y/n was hot. But he instantly got glares from Scott and Stiles. “Not helping. Got it.”

Later that day after school Y/n and Scott headed back to Scott’s house to study. It had been an hour of pure silence and Y/n couldn’t take it anymore.

“You okay? You’ve been silent since we left school.” Y/n asks, looking concerned at him.

“What did the alpha twins want?” He blurted out what had been on his mind.

“Huh?” Y/n now looked at him confused.

“They were talking to you practically all day. What’d they want?” Scott shrugged his shoulders, not sure how his question wasn’t clear.

“Nothing.” Y/n shrugged back, not getting the big deal.

“They had to want something.” Scott pushed wanting to know but also thinking in the back of his head was this to much? Was he just jealous?

“Is it so hard to believe that they’d just want to talk to me?” Y/n raises her eyebrows in shock at her friend's words.

Scott scoffs. “They were flirting, not talking.”

Y/n nodds. “To flirt you have to talk.”

“So you knew they were flirting.” Scott looked at her with shock and disgust.

Y/n let’s out a short laugh. “Kinda hard to miss but it was really only Aiden.”

“Scott narrows his eyes after hearing the name come out of her mouth. “Ok so you have a preference on a twin.”

“Ethan’s gay!” Y/n yelled looking at Scott with shock and disbelief. “As for the flirting, yeah I enjoyed it. . . It was nice to have that kind of attention.” She bowed her head feeling slightly insecure and embarrassed.

“That kind of attention?” Scott asked, confused on what she meant by that.

“If you haven’t noticed I don’t get flirted with or asked out that often.” Y/n explained keeping her gaze down, playing with a loose thread on her jeans.

“Y/n.” Scott spoke her name sadly, regretting how he came about and was treating her earlier in this conversation.

“Just forget about it. Okay.” She waved him and his impending pity off and got back to studying.

“Y/n.” Scott called her name after a few minutes of silence and thought.

“Hmmm” Y/n hummed in acknowledgment.

“I’d flirt with you anytime.” Scott smiled sheepishly at her.

“Thanks Scott.” Y/n smiled back blushing.

taglist: @padawancat97

[ruewrote]

𝑢𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟.

PAIRING: stiles stilinski x gn!reader WARNINGS: none? GENRE: angst, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: latch by disclosure & sam smith WORD COUNT: 490 NOTE: he deserves all the love in the world, plus i just wanna give him a hug

navigation | ask | stiles stilinski masterlist

Your week was long, everytime you looked at the clock it felt that the minutes grew even longer or it felt like you had no time at all, there was no inbetween.

The constant loud chatter of your classmates gives you headaches, which turn into migraines as the days progress, recently you had been keeping to yourself. Your words had been coming out alot snappier than you intended so you decided to stay quiet. Well turns out you learn alot about others when you don't speak all that much for a prolonged amount of time.

That sadly meant picking up on the little snide comments that people were making about stiles, at first it upset you. Of course it would, Why wouldn’t it? But then it just angered you right down to your core, he was the sweetest person you knew, always making sure the people around him were okay, cheering people up when they were clearly down. God, he even entertained Lydia's idiocy.

Yeah he was a klutz and he slipped up sometimes, but he didn’t deserve that. No one did, but especially not him. For what? Just being himself?

He was sick today, it was weird with him not sitting at the desk in front of you, it was almost eerie even with the talk from your fellow classmates, you missed him. The bell rang, you winced. End of school, end of this god forsaken week. looking around the classroom, students were out of their seats, some already out of the room. That included scott. Ugh. of course. 

packing up your stuff before making a beeline for stiles house, your heart heavy as you shut your car door, thinking over everything you had overheard. slowly making your way up to the stilinski residence. Stopping in front of the door, taking a deep breath before knocking.

You waited, listening for footsteps which soon came, rather quickly actually, an ouch soon followed, the door opened. there he was, with a lopsided goofy smile, he didn’t look sick? Mental health day? “Oh my god, hey! Dude I was literally just about to text you!” 

The way he was staring down at you with those stupid doe eyes, you couldn’t take it anymore. you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into a surprised hug. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms tightly around your waist, not questioning anything.

 To anyone on the outside this probably looked super weird, two people hugging in the doorway of their house, but times like these weren’t uncommon between the two of you.

“I love you, you know?” you murmur into his shoulder, he was somehow able to pull you closer to him, squeezing you tighter. “I love you too.” 

In that moment you didn’t think about the kids at school or any other silly worries that you had, not when you knew that stiles had you.

The same way that you had him.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[magical-reid]

A New Hope

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Popular!Reader

Word Count: 1K

Summary: After Stiles unexpectedly scores the game-winning goal in a crucial lacrosse match, his reputation at school shifts, and your friends start pushing you toward him as a potential date. What starts as a reluctant agreement leads to a surprisingly fun evening, where you discover Stiles' sweet, genuine side, and before you know it, you're seriously considering a second date with the awkward yet endearing boy.

The roar of the Beacon Hills High crowd was deafening, the stands alive with the kind of energy only a last-minute victory could bring. The lacrosse team had done the impossible—beating Devenford Prep in the final seconds. But the biggest shock of the night wasn’t the win.

It was who had secured it.

Stiles Stilinski.

The guy who spent more time warming the bench than actually playing had somehow been in the right place at the right time, scoring the game-winning goal. As the team hoisted him onto their shoulders and the crowd erupted in cheers, you stood on the sidelines with your friends, more baffled than anything else.

“Stiles Stilinski?” you muttered under your breath. “Seriously?”

But over the next few days, the school seemed to be collectively rewriting its perception of him. Suddenly, he wasn’t just the “weird” kid who couldn’t stop talking or tripping over his own feet. He was the underdog hero, the quirky player who’d saved the day.

That was how you found yourself sitting at your usual lunch table, staring blankly at Lydia Martin as she grinned at you like she’d just hatched a foolproof plan.

“Okay, hear me out,” Lydia began, leaning forward conspiratorially. “You and Stiles. It’s perfect.”

You blinked, fork hovering over your salad. “Come again?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Lydia said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “You and Stiles. A date. Trust me—it’ll be fun.”

You frowned, shaking your head. “Lydia, he’s… not really my type.”

Lydia’s grin didn’t falter for a second. “You don’t have a type. And Stiles is sweet. Funny. Smart.”

“And kind of adorable,” Allison chimed in, smiling. “In that awkward-but-endearing way.”

“He’s also the weird kid who used to do that thing with the Jello during lunch,” you reminded them, raising an eyebrow.

Lydia waved a dismissive hand. “That was, like, freshman year. He’s changed. And honestly? You need someone who’ll actually treat you well. Stiles is exactly that kind of guy.”

“And if I say no?” you challenged, though your tone lacked conviction.

“Then I’ll remind you that I covered for you during that Chem lab incident,” Lydia said sweetly, her smile sharp. “Remember?”

You sighed. “Fine. One date. One.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The day of the date came faster than you’d expected, and before you knew it, Stiles was pulling into your driveway in his blue Jeep. You hesitated before climbing in, giving yourself a mental pep talk. This was just a group hangout. You could survive one night.

“Uh, hi,” Stiles greeted when you got in, his nervous smile immediately betraying how much this meant to him. “You, uh… you look really nice.”

“Thanks,” you replied, startled by the sincerity in his tone.

The drive to the diner was mostly quiet, though Stiles kept stealing glances at you like he couldn’t believe you were there. When you arrived, the rest of the group was already waiting at a booth near the back.

“Hey, you two!” Lydia greeted cheerfully, sliding over to make room.

You took the seat next to her, and Stiles sat across from you, flanked by Scott and Jackson. It wasn’t long before the group began its obvious—and borderline embarrassing—campaign to talk Stiles up.

“He’s basically the reason we won the game,” Scott said casually, nudging Stiles with his elbow.

“Not to mention he’s got this, like, weird savant thing with math,” Allison added.

“And he’s surprisingly good at trivia,” Lydia said. “He’s the reason we didn’t lose that trivia night at Jungle.”

Stiles was practically squirming in his seat, his cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment. You leaned back, taking it all in with a raised eyebrow. “You guys are really going all in on this, huh?”

Lydia grinned. “Just trying to make sure you know what a catch he is.”

For his part, Stiles seemed determined to live up to their praise. He opened every door for you, pulled out your chair before you could even reach for it, and insisted on paying for your milkshake—despite your protests.

“You really don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said firmly, holding his ground. “It’s… I don’t know. The right thing to do?”

His earnestness caught you off guard. Most guys you hung out with didn’t bother with stuff like this, let alone insist on it.

At some point during the night, Lydia grabbed your arm and dragged you toward the bathroom, Allison and another girl following close behind.

“So?” Lydia asked the moment the door shut. “What do you think?”

You crossed your arms, shrugging like it was no big deal. “What do I think about what?”

“About Stiles,” Allison clarified, leaning against the counter. “You’re, like, actually having fun, right?”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t lie,” Lydia interrupted. “You were smiling when he told that ridiculous story about Scott falling off the roof. And you’ve been laughing at his jokes.”

“I smile all the time,” you argued weakly, though the flush in your cheeks betrayed you.

“Not like this,” Lydia said knowingly. “You like him, don’t you?”

“I—” You hesitated, looking between the girls as they stared you down. “He’s… different. I didn’t expect this.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

You bit your lip, unable to answer.

Back at the table, Stiles was in the middle of an animated Star Wars discussion with Scott and Jackson.

“And, like, there’s no way anyone can say Greedo shot first. It’s just—”

“Actually,” you interrupted, your voice cutting through the chatter, “the debate exists because Lucas changed it in the Special Edition. In the original 1977 release, Han shot first. That’s why people were so mad.”

The table went silent.

Every head turned toward you, and Stiles stared at you like you’d just solved the world’s greatest mystery.

“You… know that?” he asked, his voice almost reverent.

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant despite the attention. “What? Just because I don’t wear a Star Wars shirt doesn’t mean I don’t know stuff.”

Stiles blinked, then blurted out, “Marry me.”

The table erupted into laughter, but you couldn’t stop looking at him—or the way his face lit up when you smiled back.

“Maybe ask me on a second date first,” you teased.

The grin that spread across his face made it clear: he absolutely would.

Part 2

[zaceouiswriting]

The Football Stud

Character: Gabe x male reader, (mentioned) Scott McCall

Universe: Teen wolf

Warnings: Smut: degradation, humiliation, choking

Author's Note: I finally finished one of my smaller works, and for some reason, it had to be smut—though that's a problem for another time. Since I haven't written smut in a while, I'd love to hear from you all if it's okay and if you liked it as much as I hope you would.

You were bent over the counter by the sinks in one of the school's bathrooms, your head pressed against the surface by strong, immobile hands. At the same time, hard thrusts from behind slammed you in a harsh rhythm against the same counter. You would surely be bruised soon enough, but you didn't care.

"Fuck," a deep voice yells from behind you. "Why are you still so damn tight?" he asks, a smug tone in his already arrogant voice.

That was a good question. He's been forcing himself on you for months now, ever since he caught you staring in the locker room after gym class one day. You couldn't take your eyes off his perfectly muscular body or the big, thick, limp penis he unashamedly showed off to everyone before you got in the shower.

Back then, you never thought he would fuck you, or any guy, for that matter. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it in some ways; feeling his hands all over your body, his sharp, brutal eyes constantly staring at you, even in class, only for him to tap your desk in the middle of class as he passes by, signaling you to follow him so he can fuck you wherever he wanted.

"You fucking faggots are all the same!" he continues, his humiliating, degrading words driving you to the brink of lust-fueled madness. "You stare at me and drool over my body like I'm just a piece of meat," his words become a little slurred, "but I'm not like you, nothing more than a hole that needs to be filled by a real man!"

You couldn't deny his words. After all, you were desperately attracted to him. You were in the same class your entire school career, watching him grow from this scrawny, whiny little boy to this handsome, muscular flirt. Rumor has it that he's a real stud who apparently fucked his way through the cheerleading squad and most of the other girls in school, something you never could have imagined.

Even though he is brutal to you, you feel honored to be the one this man completely destroys. And even though you are the same age as him, you don't feel like you deserve to be called a "man" compared to him.

While you were lost in thought, the other suddenly grabbed the back of your head and pulled it upwards so that you had to look at him through the mirror while your upper body was still pressed to the counter surface by his big, strong other hand.

"Look at yourself!" he commanded, his face grim, as if he were doing something disgusting, but his rhythmic thrusts did not let up or slow down in any way. His rock-hard cock pulsed violently against your inner walls. "What do you see?"

When you finally did as he commanded, you saw your eyes red with tears, your mouth wide open, and your head was in complete euphoria. The sheer size of his cock alone gave you more than just pleasure, although it still hurt a little, but not as bad as the first time when he almost ripped you to pieces when he fucked you dry. You couldn't walk for nearly a week after that.

If you were honest with yourself, you felt and looked pathetic for letting yourself be taken advantage of by this stud who will surely play college football and maybe even go pro. Yet all you cared about was being his toy, even though you wanted more. You were satisfied that you were at least something to him, even if it was just his sperm vault that was regularly filled with his hot cum. But as a side effect, he was also fucking your brains out at the same time, which made you wonder who was really taking advantage of whom.

A sharp pain, worse than the cock trying to stretch your inner walls, snaps you out of your thoughts. As your eyes focus, you see a large red mark on your face. It's not the first time he's hit you, but you've been a good boy, just like he wants, so this time, it hurt you more than just physically.

"Don't look at me like an innocent slut!" His harsh words make you even sadder. Suddenly, he holds you tight, grabs your hair roughly, and pulls you towards him. "You know I hate it when you don't look and act like my little whore, so what's wrong?"

With tears in your eyes, you didn't want to, but you spoke anyway. "Why did you hit me?"

With a look of contempt you've never seen before in his mysterious dark orbs, he looks down at you like you're an idiot. He rolls his eyes in annoyance; it's almost playful, only to push you back to the surface harshly, immediately picking up his rhythm but thrusting into you harder than before. He was so brutal that you cried out involuntarily, only to see him grinning like a psychopath in the mirror; then you knew it was all intentional.

“That’s right, bitch, scream my name,” he yells euphorically, visibly happy about the pain he is inflicting on you.

Contrary to what he thought you would do, you gathered all your strength and covered your mouth with your hands, visibly angering him. Even though you knew he would punish you for it, you thought it was fair since he didn't answer your question. But when you saw him gritting his teeth, you almost broke down and did it anyway because you wanted nothing more than to be his good boy. After all, he always treated you nicely when you were good to him, but you had to make something clear right then.

He, on the other hand, was already at the end of his tether, slamming his hands onto your bare waist and holding it in a grip that would undoubtedly leave you with more bruises. But you didn't even care, too scared because you already knew what was coming next.

Slowly he pulls his cock out of your abused hole, all the way to the tip, and with a devilish grin, maintaining eye contact, his hips suddenly snap forward. The force pushes you to the mirror while the pain causes your arms to fall like cooked noodles at your sides. You didn't even notice how you finally let out a primitive scream, as your brain was already mostly incapacitated.

“Gabe!” You finally shouted so loudly that everyone in the surrounding classrooms could hear it, even if you didn't know it yet.

“Louder!” Gabe orders you in an icy tone, perfectly concealing his prior pure excitement.

And as ordered, you scream his name so loudly that your voice breaks. Through a veil of tears, you see Gabe's grin in the mirror; it's eerie, almost dark, like the smirk of a murderer.

But suddenly, Gabe leaned forward; his thrusts became a little sloppier. His hot breath tickled your neck, but despite the way he treated you, you were not afraid; on the contrary. If he ordered it, you would worship the ground he walks on. Carefully, he took your chin between his fingers and forced you to make eye contact with him again.

"Now tell me," his deep voice echoed in your soul, sending not only shivers through your entire body but your brain exploding in pure ecstasy, "who owns this hole?" He moved his cock slowly in and out, making it clear that he meant your loose asshole.

Feeling his cock suddenly throb viciously, you moaned his name. As you watched his face become even more smug and confident, you realized what a stud he had become, knowing full well that he was superior to everyone else. Your already rapidly beating heart nearly jumped out of your throat.

"And who owns you, slut?" He pronounced the degrading name prominently and slapped your left butt cheek so hard that you knew you would have another bruise there in the morning.

Immediately after the slap, he stopped his thrusts to hear your reaction, knowing without a doubt that your response would not be the result of pure lust controlling you.

Out of breath, it took a while, but when you saw Gabe's waiting look, you swallowed hard. 

"You, Gabe," you finally managed to choke out, your words almost drowned out by your heavy breathing.

To you, your whispered words felt like a promise, an invisible contract that you will probably never be able to escape. Yet you didn't mind.

"Who?" Gabe asks again, his grin becoming sinister, his hand tightening around your chin while his other hand quickly begins to clamp around your throat.

"You, Gabe!" you squeaked with all the strength you had left. Your voice echoed through the bathroom, but you couldn't stop; you repeated his name like a mantra.

Even Gabe seemed surprised when you started to cry. It wasn't because of the pain, at least not physically. Although you never minded being just a hole for him, something inside you broke in that moment; you suddenly realized that there would never be anything more, no matter how much you wanted it to be.

Even with all your heartache, a moan suddenly erupted from you. Your mind became foggy almost instantly as something struck deep inside you.

Through the mirror, you saw Gabe standing upright again, his letterman jacket hanging halfheartedly over his shoulders, his perfectly fluffy, styled hair in disarray, but most striking were his facial features, stern but compassionate. Despite his look, he first gently ran his rough fingertips—due to all the training he does—over your soft back until he forced you where he always said you belonged: bent over and wide open for him. Like a good, obedient slut.

“You’re so tight for me,” he murmurs, his voice slightly trembling.

Just from his voice, you knew he was close to coming, even though he hadn't fucked you in almost a minute. Suddenly his thrusts became faster, distracting your mind from your emotional turmoil as he endlessly pushed his cock against your prostate to the point you couldn't control yourself anymore. Your hands twitched at your sides, clenching them as if you were searching for something to grab onto; you gasped like a bitch in heat until your limbs fell back onto the counter, your head bouncing off it a second later.

"Fuck, I'm close... I'm clo- Fuck!" Gabe's deep voice echoed off the bathroom walls as his body stiffened.

You felt copious amounts of cum filling your insides to the brim as his sweaty hands pressed deeper into your flesh.

But as you feel this wonderful, warm, thick sensation, your body gives in to exhaustion and knocks you out on the spot.

When you awoke from your short nap, you saw a shadow standing over you. You looked around anxiously and found yourself on the floor, lying on his letterman jacket. When you felt the soft fabric under your overstimulated cock, you came a third time in less than twenty minutes.

As you turned your head ever so slightly, you saw something you never thought possible. There stood Gabe, wiping your ass. He looked disgustingly at his hand as he wiped his cum off and out of your hole. However, when he caught your eye, his annoyance turned to anger.

"Fucking faggot," he mutters, clearly dissatisfied. "Can't even take it up the ass without passing out, pathetic whore."

A feeling of shame began to grow within you. It only worsened when he stood up, washed his hands, and simply walked towards the door. You could have sworn you heard your heart breaking at that moment.

“Your jacket.” Your voice was just a whisper, but Gabe halted anyway, his hand already on the doorknob.

"Don't think anything of it," he presses through clenched teeth. "I don't want your worthless sperm on it." He pulled a disgusted face again and even went so far as to spit right at your feet. "I would never want anything back from such an easy slut like you."

You lowered your head and nodded, understanding that he didn't want anything you touched. But despite everything, he didn't leave the room. Gabe sighed heavily. You saw out of the corner of your eye how he wiped his face, looking somewhat displeased and defeated simultaneously.

"Tomorrow morning, same time, same place," he mutters dejectedly. Your head snaps up, unable to believe you heard him correctly. You're amazed at the warm face he showed you for the first time. But he must've realized his mistake as his face twisted to anger again. "You're just a better slut than most girls, but if you pass out again, I'll hand you down to the rest of the football team. Got it?"

You nodded happily, unable to hide your euphoria, which caused Gabe to chuckle darkly, but you didn't care. For the first time, he actually saw you as more than just a hole, upgrading you to one of his sluts, which was better than being just a piece of meat, and maybe there's hope for much more in the future.

Lost in your dreams, you didn't notice Gabe finally leaving the bathroom. You lay there for another minute before finally gathering your clothes strewn throughout the room and putting them back on, even though they were gross.

The second you stepped out of the bathroom, Scott was outside the door asking if everything was okay.

You knew he meant well, but it pissed you off. He's always on your case, wanting you to give up on Gabe, but at the end of the year, you were both going to different colleges anyway, so you wanted to use this time to at least get fucked properly. With a scowl on your hardened face, you told him you were great, pushed past him, and went to find your friends, ignoring all of Scott's attempts to pry deeper into your business.

[Masterlist]

[lfzyxf]

Hey, I have another fluffy Isaac Lahey request. What about one where Reader randomly, but frequently compliments/flirts with Isaac just to see his reaction. Could be pre-relationship or established relation, up to you on that. I just think it would be funny/cute.

Did something a little different here, hope you like it! Masterlist Word count: 1050 Taglist: @rachlovesactors

4 + 1

Four times you compliment Isaac, and one time he compliments you.

The first time

The first time it happens is when Stiles once again starts to complain about Isaac’s habit of wearing scarves. “I mean, seriously. Why are you even wearing a scarf right now? It’s the middle of summer.” Isaac rolls his eyes at the comment, “It’s fashion, all right? Not that you’d know anything about it since all you wear are flannels.” He retorts, his arms crossed, and head tilted forward. Stiles is about to respond, hand raised when you interrupt him. “I think it’s nice actually.” The heads of the previously arguing boys turn towards you. “What?” You can’t help but laugh at how in sync they were before shrugging. “I like the scarfs; it adds something to his outfits.” They both stare at you until you eventually walk away. Stiles has a look of disbelief plastered on his face, while Isaac’s smiling smugly at him.

The second time

He didn’t leave, he stayed behind to help Scott. He stayed to help the pack, to help you. He’s walking towards the lacrosse field, ready to bump players out of the game when Scott turns to you. You don’t notice of course, too busy staring at Isaac who is walking on the field with such confidence you can’t look away. It takes him tapping your shoulder for you to look away, only to be met with a teasing grin on his face. “Shut up.” You say quickly before turning your gaze back towards the field. “I didn’t say anything.” He responds you can hear him smiling as he speaks. “But if you wanted to say something, I wouldn’t judge.”  He adds, making you look at him once more. “Gerard has just threatened to kill us all, and you think this is the time to figure out my feelings for him?” Scott sighs at your words, you’re right, of course, but still. “We can’t do anything about that right now, so we might as well.” A few seconds after he says that Isaac is on the ground in pain. The two of you quickly stand up, just before Scott starts to run towards the wolf in pain you stop him. “Maybe he’s a tiny bit good-looking.” You tell him before making your way towards Isaac. Scott can’t help but laugh at your words before following you and getting Isaac some help.

The third time

It happens again when Allison is explaining to Isaac how riding a motorbike works. He looks confident, cocky even. It suits him well, and you tell him so when Allison takes a picture for Scott. “This look suits you well.” You comment when he puts on the helmet that was hanging on the throttle of the bike. Isaacs’s eyes meet yours in a second. If you look closely, you can make out a part of his cheeks reddened at your comment. Allison coughs before turning towards you and smirking. “Should I send you the picture as well so you can look at it some more?” She asks teasingly. Unfazed you nod, “That’d be great actually.” Before patting the bike once and moving to the side to let Isaac through. It takes him a moment to gather himself before he’s off and driving through the school hallways to get revenge on the twins.

The fourth time

This is very awkward. When bringing Meredith to Scott’s home you certainly weren’t expecting his dad to be here. Coming up with an excuse as to why we were all there, Stiles quickly explains and tells him that we have a study session going on. “Who’s she?” His dad asks, clearly not convinced. Stiles quickly moves his arm around her shoulders before confidently saying, “My girlfriend.” Until Meredith quickly shatters that illusion by muttering that he’s not her type. “Well, we obviously have a lot to talk about,” Stiles responds, “We should maybe take this upstairs?” Meredith instead looks at Isaac before claiming that he is, in fact, her type. Everyone looks around awkwardly before Stiles decides that Isaac should just come as well. The trio quickly makes their way upstairs, leaving you with Scott and his dad. “Well,” you saw awkwardly. “Can’t blame the girl, he is pretty hot.” Before going the same way, the other three went a few moments before. Oblivious to the fact that Isaac heard you thank the universe for werewolf hearing.

Plus one

It’s another year at school. A lot happened in the previous one, a lot of bad things. Allison for example isn’t here for the new year. But we did get Stiles back, and the Nogitsune is gone once more. The locker room is almost empty when you knock on the door. When Scott lets you know that there aren’t any half-naked boys around, you walk in. You can hear four voices when you walk in, hidden behind a row of lockers. Making your way towards them you wish you hadn’t, the sight of Stiles questioning a boy you hadn’t seen before. Stopping beside Scott you can see an embarrassed look on his face. Looking to your left you spot an unimpressed Isaac staring down at Stiles. The boy turns to grab his stuff before looking up at Stiles, “Guess I’m just that good.” He says before walking off.

Scott moves to stand next to Stiles as they watch him walk off, an impressed look on his face. “Wasn’t lying that time,” Scott says making Isaac laugh. “Anyone want to tell me what that was about?” You ask staring at three men in front of you. Isaac moves one of his arms around your shoulders before explaining. “New guy, Liam. He’s great at lacrosse and Stiles just can’t seem to accept that.” Looking over at Stiles you can’t help but laugh at the dejected look on his face. “Is it that hard to believe someone is just good at playing lacrosse?” You ask him, but before he can respond Isaac interrupts. “Not everyone can be as talented as you.” He winks at you before patting your shoulder and walking off. Leaving you with Scott and Stiles, who are both staring at you. Stiles with wide, confused eyes, and Scott with a smug expression. “So, what was that about not having any feelings for him?” Scott asks smiling at you.