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#stiles stilinski fluff
sarcasm-and-stiles · 5 months
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Stiles: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE
Y/N: sarcastic brunettes
Stiles, desperately, as Y/N bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE
Y/N: Oh! B positive.
Stiles: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE
Y/N:
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voidpetrova · 7 months
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pretty boy — stiles stilinski x reader
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☄. *. ⋆
content warnings and genre: swearing, alcohol consumption, tit play, unprotected p in v sex, virgin!sub!stiles x experienced!dom!reader — smut
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
synopsis: the closest thing he had come to having sex was with his fist, until he confessed to you, that is
✧.*
in a dimly lit motel room, the buzzing neon sign outside cast intermittent flashes of light across the peeling wallpaper. the air was thick with tension as stiles stilinski, the epitome of social awkwardness and love-deprivation, sat on one of the twin beds, fumbling with his phone. scott had left to chase after allison, leaving stiles alone with his thoughts and an abundance of uncomfortable silence. just as he contemplated diving into another episode of his favorite tv show to escape the loneliness, there was a soft knock on the door. with a puzzled expression, he pulled it open, revealing you—bold, snarky, and an undeniable knockout. you sauntered in, a sly grin playing on your lips, and in your hand, a six-pack of beer.
“hey there, loser,” you greeted, taking in the melancholic atmosphere. “looks like we've got a room all to ourselves tonight. mind if i join the pity party?” stiles' eyes widened in surprise, a mix of embarrassment and relief washing over him. “uh, sure, come on in,” he stammered, hastily clearing a space on the other bed for you.
you cracked open a beer, handing one to stiles, and settled in comfortably. “so, what's got you wallowing in self-pity?” you asked, your tone laced with genuine curiosity. stiles took a sip of his beer and sighed, avoiding eye contact. “i've been doing some thinking,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “how is it that i've never gotten laid?”
you observed him for a moment, your sharp wit temporarily softened by empathy. “stiles, being in a relationship isn't the be-all and end-all of life,” you said, your voice reassuring. “besides, you're unique in your own quirky way. maybe you just haven't found the right person yet.” he looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of longing and insecurity. “you think so?”
“absolutely,” you affirmed, leaning in a bit closer. “you're a good guy, stiles. you deserve someone who appreciates your quirks and cares about you for who you are.” as the night wore on and the beer cans dwindled, a connection grew between you two. stiles, usually tongue-tied and nervous around others, found himself opening up to you like he never had before. your witty banter and genuine interest put him at ease, making him forget his insecurities.
and then, in the quiet of that dingy motel room, stiles found the courage to confess his feelings. “you know, i've had a crush on you for a while now,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. you raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk gracing your lips. “oh, really? i had no idea,” you teased.
stiles chuckled nervously, his heart pounding in his chest. “yeah, well, i guess it's hard not to when you're so—amazing.” you leaned in closer until your faces were just inches apart. “you know, stiles,” you whispered, “i've had my eye on you too.”
in that small, dimly lit motel room, something shifted between you and stiles. two people, seemingly different in every way, found a connection that transcended their differences. as the night deepened, you and stiles shared more than just beer; you shared stories, dreams, and a newfound closeness that neither of you had expected. it was a moment of vulnerability and connection that would change the course of their lives, igniting a spark of something beautiful amidst the chaos of teenagehood. and as the neon sign outside flickered on and off, it seemed to mirror the uncertainty and excitement of the journey that lay ahead for stiles and the you.
“so,” you began, discarding the empty can of liquid gold as you spoke. you met his gaze, his nervous, shaky gaze with a hint of something unexplainable in your own. whatever it was, it drew him to you. just as much as his nervousness drew you to him. “never been laid, huh?”
the question had him taken aback, leaving him with an almost offended expression as he scoffed. “you almost sound surprised.” he inquired with a, yet again nervous, chuckle. you shrugged, taking the opportunity to sit next to him on the ragged, uncomfortable sheets. “you're a pretty boy, sti, you could say i'm surprised, sure.” he didn't know which part got to him first—perhaps it was the way your tone shifted from playful to seductive in a matter of seconds, or maybe it was the way your siren-like eyes held his shy gaze with an immense need to ruin him. before everything else, he was absolutely sure it was your words that had gotten to him first. pretty boy. yes, the way his jeans tightened only confirmed his lingering thoughts.
“you think i'm pretty?” it almost sounded like a statement, rather than your typical question. you smiled rather gently, fingertips slowly creeping up on him, brushing his hair softly, trailing down his clothed chest, gracefully caressing his bulge through his jeans. “so pretty.” you affirmed.
stiles didn't know how to kiss, he didn't have as much experience as you did. he lacked the experience and tact you had, but not the passion. not the passion, not with you guiding him every step of the way ever so gently. your hands cupped his cheeks, tracing his jawline as you coaxed him into the kiss, allowing him to take baby steps into relaxing and finally melting into it. once he did, you found your tongue sliding into his mouth, intertwining with his as your teeth tugged at his bottom lip, sucking gently. you heard him gasp, and it was adorable. he was like putty under your touch.
“you sure you wanna do this?” the question came out almost as soon as the kiss was broken, leaving him panting with a painful ache in his cock. he nodded, almost too eagerly, puppy eyes desperate to experience this more than ever. you littered kitten licks and kisses down his neck, relishing in the way he shivered at the sensation. you had successfully gotten rid of his shirt, feeling how he only grew more and more eager to get on with it. before you could go any further, you found yourself pushing him back onto the bed, straddling his lap.
he watched in awe from below as you peeled your top off, pulling it off your head, leaving you in a stunning black bra. his eyes admired the curve of your tits, the way the bra squished them together, the recoil incoming with every move you made. “c'mere, baby, don't be shy.” you cooed, encouraging stiles to do more than just stare. it was just what he needed to hear. though inexperienced, he allowed himself to do what he felt was right—peeling your bra off, soft moans of pleasure leaving his mouth as he allowed him to fondle and grope your fatty tits, sucking on them and toying with them in a way that made both of you moan. he had his face buried into the valley of your boobs, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as you pulled at his dark hair. he looked up at you, with an utterly innocent, horny gaze, saliva dripping down his chin as you watched him rut against the mattress, desperate for some kind of soothing friction. it made you all the more ready to ruin him.
“please, (y/n),” you had him begging for you to help him out, just a little bit. while you helped him remove his jeans, you couldn't ignore the way his moans got you worked up and wet. “gotta fuck you, please, please, please.” it was a string of incoherent pleading and whining, he was even more worked up than you were. he had no other way to act, what, with your tongue dragging alongside his clothed dick, teasing and taunting the wet spot on his boxers. you nuzzled your nose against him, tongue tracing his balls as you listened to the way he meweled, beads of sweat dropping down his temple.
that night, the first thing you found out about stiles was that he was sensitive. extremely sensitive. the second thing? he was hung. the sight of his bare dick made your eyes widen, the same way the feeling of the cool air hitting his hot, angry, hard cock made him hiss. unbeknownst to you, he had been carrying a, vaguely-spoken, above-average size this entire time. it wasn't something he chose to brag about—what would the context be? certainly not how he jacked off to photos of you every night, to polaroids he had taken of you on the beach or the mere thought of you in the position you were currently in. no, surprising you like this was much better.
“big boy, aren't you, sti?” the way you cooed, as if talking to a toddler, made his cock throb. he whined in response, breath hitching in his throat as you used your thumb to smear his dripping precum all over his cock, lubricating it with the thin layer of arousal. “you're gonna make a mess of me.” he hadn't planned on it until now.
he truly didn't know what to expect fron sex up until now. sure, he's heard stories from friends thay included scott and danny, he's heard the standard it set compared to using a hand to get off. however, feeling it for the first time—it was absolutely incomparable. it was another realm of euphoria, feeling his throbbing, aching cock slip into your wet, tight heat. you didn't have to prep yourself or anything, his long, hard dick gliding into the tight ring of muscle without a care in the world. he felt you flutter around him, the sensation better and tighter than when he uaually jacked off. his jaw slacked, eyelashes fluttering as a moan got caught in his throat. he knew he wasn't gonna last long.
“too fuck—fucking tight, jesus, shit—” none of his words were easy to make out, each one coming out slower than the last as you allowed yourself to bounce on his dick, hands pressed to his chest as his cock slid in and out of you. your tits were pressed to his face, and you couldn't help but moan lowly, the thin motel walls offering you little to no support. “so big, stiles,” you gasped out. you were full, fuller than you've ever been or felt up until now. his thick tip was pressing against your cervix, kissing it as he fucked you. “shit, too fucking big, sti.”
he loved it, loved knowing how good he made you feel. he used it to his advantage, repeating things he had only seen in pornos—rubbing your clit, fondling your tits, and grabbing onto your hips, grinding you down onto his dick as he fucked himself into you. he knew he was close, especially fast for his first time, especially fast for your third time. “i—i can't,” he forewarned, and he couldn't.
when he came, his mind went absolutely blank. he came hard, with a loud moan that had come off as unexpected for both of you. he came long and hard, harder than ever before, shooting all of his cum into your cunt, your pussy milking his cock completely, sucking every last drop out. his vision was blurry for a few seconds, and his mouth dry, the inability to form sentences overpowering him. if there was one thing you were good at, it was fucking.
and boy, were you a fucking good one.
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dylobilysmomg · 3 months
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Drive-In Shenanigans
𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟭.𝟲𝗸+
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪! 𝗦𝗲𝗺𝗶-𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝘂𝗻𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅 (𝗪𝗿𝗮𝗽 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗮𝗽 𝗶𝘁 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘!) 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗽𝗻𝘃
𝗔/𝗡: 𝗜’𝗺 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝗹! 𝗜’𝘃𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝟯 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝗶𝗰𝘆 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗻! 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!
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𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙞𝙛!
It’s a warm August Friday. School has started but we’re still trying to hold onto the summer. It’s shorts and t-shirt weather, my favorite kind of weather. So Stiles and I make our way to the one place you’d always find us during those summer months. The drive-in theater.
“What’re you looking for?” Stiles asks me, watching as I dig through my bag. “I thought I brought my chapstick.” I say, still searching. I pay no attention to Stiles who’s reaching into his pocket and hands me his.
“Ugh, cherry.” I look at him disapprovingly. “Hey, you wanted chapstick, I gave you chapstick.” He chuckles, and I sigh, removing the cap.
“You’ll be fine, plus you’ll forget about it once the movie starts.” Stiles says as we pull up the the drive-in theater. We drive up and pay at the window and Stiles finds a good spot to park. Once he’s found an open spot he likes, he backs into it. Turning his body, his right arm stretched out to my seat, looking through the back windshield. 𝙂𝙤𝙙…
“Okay, let’s do this.” Stiles says excitedly, parking the jeep and getting out. I hop out too and walk around the jeep to the trunk. Stiles is opening up the hatch and there it is. Probably the equally most fun and disgusting place in his jeep, depending on who you ask. We’ve got plenty of blankets laying in the back to cushion us while we watch the movie.
Stiles is practically shaking from excitement, we’ve planned this drive-in date a month ahead. I mean, Stiles and I come to the drive-in A LOT. However, tonight is different because, of course, they’re playing Star Wars.
I hop up into the back of the jeep along with Stiles, sitting on his right. We get comfy and sit against the back seat. There’s no one parked in front of us, thank God, and there’s not really anyone at the drive-in at all this time around.
“It’s pretty deserted tonight.” I turn my head to him, admiring his face as the light from the screen shines on him. “Yeah, what’s up with that? Where’s all the Star Wars fans at, huh?” He complains, almost baffled that he may be the only die-hard Star Wars fan in Beacon Hills.
“I don’t know, maybe they’d just rather watch the movies at home.” I reply, giggling; already knowing what he’s going to say. “That’s outrageous. This is so much better than sitting on the couch. This is where the fun is.” Stiles exasperates, flailing his arms at the screen.
I just giggle, admiring him. “I mean, this is more fun that watching it at my house, right?” He asks, turning his head to me. I don’t answer at first, instead leaning in to give him a kiss; which he accepts almost instantaneously.
“Yes, Stiles, this is more fun. Plus, you know how much I love the drive-in.” I tell him, leaning my head on his right shoulder as the commercials end and the beginning of the movie starts. Stiles brings his arm around my back, which urges me closer. In all honesty, I’ve been dying to be with Stiles; just the two of us. Since school has started, we haven’t had a single moment for ourselves. Starting of school work, and of course along with whatever Scott gets us into, we get really busy really fast. And I’m itching for Stiles’ touch.
As the movie plays, Stiles’ full attention is towards the screen. He absentmindedly makes circles with his thumb as his hand resides on my waist. My left arm is around behind his back, my other in my lap. My legs are curled up now, I rest them on his thigh. My head still rests in that sweet spot between his shoulder and his arm that was made just for me. I can’t stop thinking about his arm around me. My mind running wild.
It’s about a fourth of the way trough the movie that I can’t take it anymore. I trail the hand I have behind his back lower, deciding to slip it under and up his shirt. My hands must be cold, because he gets a little chill as I do so. Even then, I trail my hand over his bare skin, which is now at my disposal. I draw designs softly with my nails, scratching his back lightly.
Stiles hums, finally acknowledging me. “Mm, that feels good.” He mumbles, but eyes not leaving the screen. I crane my neck up slightly, my face now mere millimeters away from his exposed neck. “Does it?” I whisper, leaning up to kiss his neck. One kiss. Two, three. My hand in my lap slides to his.
“Babe, we’re watching a movie.” He warns me, now fully aware of my intentions. I slide my hand up to his chest. “What’s that gotta do with anything?” I counter, giving his neck a few more kisses. He sighs, I know I’m getting to him.
“You know this happens every time we have a movie night, right? Is there something you wanna tell me, Y/N? Does fine cinematography turn you on?” Stiles tries to play with me, ease his own temptations. But I’ve already got him where I want him.
“No, you do though.” I reply, sliding my hand from his chest down to the waist band of his jeans. He lets in a sharp breath as I dip my fingers into his pants to grip his belt buckle. “We’re in public.” He warns again, but I don’t listen.
“That’s what makes it so fun.” I reply, slowly undoing his belt, and he lets me. I get his belt loose and unbutton his jeans, unzipping them agonizingly slow. Stiles has by now given up on trying to act cool, and is now practically itching to be touched. There’s already a tent in his boxers as I pull his jeans down just a bit.
Stiles uses his right arm that’s still around me to urge me into his lap, and I oblige. I straddle him, both my hands now on his chest, and he pulls me into a kiss. I grind onto him as his arms slink to my waist, going to unbutton my shorts as if second nature.
He unzips my shorts, revealing just enough to see the the little bow at the top of my panties. “Awe, fuck.” He lets out, before dipping a hand down my panties to where he knows I want him. I moan as he teases my entrance, and his mouth envelopes mine in another kiss. I bring a hand down to grope him through his boxers.
I throw my head back as Stiles finally slips a finger inside me, then two. I try to be quiet, but as he rocks his fingers back and forth, trying to be quiet is near impossible. I then drop my head to the crook of his neck, my hot breath hitting him.
“Stiles, need you so bad.” I say, now plunging my hand into his boxers to grab him, and he hisses. I use my thumb to play with his tip, spreading the pre cum. Then, without warning, Stiles pulls his fingers from my shorts. I whine as he grabs one of the many blankets in the trunk to cover our waists.
It’s then that his hands urge my shorts down and off my legs, and I pull his boxers down just enough to free him. “Can you be quiet?” Stiles looks at me, I can tell that being in public turns him on, he just won’t admit it. He likes the thought of being caught almost as much as I do.
“Yes.” Is all I reply with before he’s lining himself up with me before putting his hands on my hips to urge me down. I try not to let out a moan as I slowly sink down, Stiles stretching me fully. Once I’ve taken all of him, I place my hands on either of his shoulders. I slowly start to bounce on his cock, Stiles watching with his mouth hanging open in awe. It’s at this point that I now know for a fact that he likes it when I ride him the most.
I rock my hips against his, the movie now completely forgotten. I’m so focused on Stiles that I barely notice his hand going down to my little bundle of nerves. When I feel him starting to rub circles, I start to lose my momentum. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” He taunts me.
“Yeah,” I say breathlessly, “Y’so good, Sti.” I begin to babble, something that Stiles frequently takes advantage of.
“Yeah, ya like when I take care of you, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Like when I give you what you want?”
“Oh, yes.”
Stiles starts to buck his hips, thrusting up into me, and I can barely take it. I can tell he’s chasing his high the by way way he hisses and by the sweat that begins to form on his hairline. He’s still assaulting my clit when I speak up.
“Stiles, I’m gonna cum.” I warn him, and he pulls his other hand from my hip to cover my mouth as I do. And suddenly I can no longer bounce on him, all I can do is ride out what he’s giving to me.
Stiles still covers my mouth and begins to thrust up hard and fast, and I can barely take any more. But not before he pulls out and strings of white are splayed over my thigh. He throws his head back against the back seat, mouth hanging agape.
I scoop up his ropes with a finger, but wait for him to lift his head up to look at me before I bring my finger to my lips. I lick it clean, and Stiles could quite possibly be the hungriest man I’ve ever seen.
“We seriously can’t even make it one movie without fucking. I owe Scott 5 bucks.”
𝟏/𝟏𝟗/𝟐𝟒
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ateotd-izzy · 3 months
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rainstorms | stiles stilinski x fem!reader
summary: it’s the middle of the night and you wake up due to the heavy rainstorm outside, and after you get up, your boyfriend can’t really sleep on his own.
warnings: none, just sleepy stiles
you were woken up in the early hours of the morning by the sound of rain pattering against the window.
a few moments of lying awake made you shiver (that was because stiles was hogging the blanket) and realize how thirsty you were.
so, with a sigh, you slipped out from under the little amount of blanket you had (thanks, stiles) and let your legs drop over the side of his bed.
one leg of your grey sweatpants had hiked up your leg so it was rolled up to your shin and you fixed that before standing up.
the floor was cold against your bare feet as you slowly and quietly exited stiles' bedroom, careful not to disturb your sleeping boyfriend and his adorable snores.
you made it through the dark house and to the kitchen, where you got yourself a glass of water.
it was still raining heavily outside and you smiled at the sound as you headed back to stiles' room with your cup.
you opened the bedroom door and your eyes drifted over to the bed immediately. stiles was lying on his stomach, eyes closed, mouth open and one arm draped across the bed where you were lying before.
you smiled to yourself. he was so adorable.
you watched as more rain drops hit his window and it started thundering. you saw a flash of lightning and immediately walked over to the window and staring out at the dark night outside.
it was calming. watching as the rain stormed outside as you sipped your water at 3 in the morning.
you were so distracted that you didn't even hear the creak of the bed as stiles got up and walked up behind you.
"what're you doing up?" he mumbled, his arms finding their way around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, his face buried into your neck from behind.
"the rain woke me up." you answered, leaning your head against his ever-so slightly. "and i was thirsty."
"what time is it?"
"it's 3 am."
he pulled his head up to look at you. "you're a psychopath to be up at this time, i swear."
his voice was raspy and all a big mumble. he was clearly still half asleep.
"sure, buddy."
"crazy woman." he shook his head and closed his eyes, leaning against your shoulder again. "look at you, just watching the rain."
"it's nice, stiles."
"sleep is also nice." one of his hands moved from its place on your stomach and connected with yours. he tugged lightly. "please sleep."
"in a minute." you sipped your water again.
"it's so cold."
"then go back to bed."
"i'm not gonna go without you." he whispered, kissing the back of your neck. "i hate sleeping alone, you know that."
you took one last long sip of your water until it was all gone. you turned your body and walked back towards the bed with stiles, placing the cup on his nightstand.
stiles practically dropped onto his bed before rolling back into his place. he pulled the blankets over himself and patted the spot on the bed next to him for you.
you did lie down, except horizontally across the bed, rather than vertically. your head found its place, using stiles' chest as a pillow and he chuckled softly, his eyes fluttering shut.
"what are you doing?"
"sleeping."
"stop being a dork and lie down properly," he wrapped one arm across your chest. "dork."
"stiles, don't complain because you're a good pillow."
"yeah, but how am i supposed to cuddle you — or move for that matter — if i'm stuck like this?" he asked, his words still a jumble of nonsense.
"okay, fine, you win." you sighed playfully. you were already going to move, you didn't like the feeling of your legs hanging over the side of the bed.
you adjusted your position so you were lying next to him properly. he gave you a dumb smile in return.
"i love you." he whispered, still smiling, just now with his eyes shut again.
"i know."
his eyes shot open quickly.
"you didn't—"
"good night, stiles."
"hey." he glared slightly. "you gotta say it back."
"why?"
"because i need validation. tell me you love me."
you chuckled softly, pulling the blanket over yourself and moving closer to stiles, placing a light kiss on his lips.
"i love you too, you big nerd."
"thank you." he closed his eyes and held you as close to him as humanly possible. "now i'll see you in about... seven hours when i decide to wake up."
"good night, stiles."
"wait, what if—"
"good night, stiles."
"yep, good night." he peeked his eyes open. "going back to sleep now."
you chuckled and shook your head, lying down and closing your own eyes.
"what if i can't go back to sleep?" he asked after about a minute of silence and you groaned. "okay, well you woke me up."
"and you're the one who dragged me back to bed to sleep, stiles, not talk."
"touché."
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a/n: just a little one shot from my wattpad that i felt like putting on here
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strangerstilinski · 5 months
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sharing a stiles thought i keep thinking bc brainrot and sharing bc you’d appreciate it
he would beg you to do the spiderman kiss and immediately fall as soon as it actually happens
i know this wasn't technically a request of any sort but oh boy did it tickle at the nearly nonexistent inspiration in my brain, so.. here we are. just a very short fluffy little thing that made me feel all warm inside. x
You tug at the sleeves of your sweatshirt in an attempt to cover your cold knuckles as you take an overly-cautious step out onto your front porch, hugging one arm around your ribs as a shiver wracks your body all while your grip tightens around your cell phone.
“Stiles, if this is one of your jokes-” A sigh escapes you, a wispy cloud of fog pushing past your lips as you look around for your boyfriend. There's a familiar blue jeep parked at the edge of your driveway, but the owner doesn’t seem to be anywhere in sight. You tut softly into the phone, “I think your pranks are cute, baby. Really, I do, but I need to study-”
Your socked feet carry you that much farther outside, shuffling slow across the smooth planks of wood underfoot while you cautiously scour the yard for his familiar figure.
“I'm right-” There's a scratchy crackle against the speaker just as you hear a scuffle from somewhere to your left. Stiles' yelp meets your ears twice, once from the dark emptiness at the edge of the porch, and then again half a second later through the phone.
It's just as you're just stepping up to the edge of the porch, hand falling to grip the railing as you squint into the darkness, when something drops down from above and makes you flinch back with a small scream.
“Here!” Stiles grins, the momentum of his body still making him sway forward and backward for a moment as he hangs upside down in front of you. He's dangling from the roof overhanging the porch, his torso curled around the edge in a way that can't possibly be comfortable, but he's grinning like he couldn't be more pleased with his current position.
“Stiles!” You scold, reining in the urge to punch his shoulder and instead redirecting the motion to simply grip at his biceps when he reaches out for you. The slow motion of his swinging slows under your steady hold, “Are you insane? You're banned from climbing on the roof! We- We have talked about this-”
“Neh, eh, eh,” He interrupts with a goofy grin, “The rule was that I can't climb on Scott's roof-”
While you don't remember the specifics, you have no doubt that your boyfriend would have been clever enough to worm some sort of loophole into his previous promise. Your nose scrunches up in annoyance while your heart continues thumping wildly in your chest, both from the scare and from the panic pooling in your gut as you watch your boyfriend shuffle and slip another inch or so over the edge of the roof.
“Sti, babe, please,” You whine anxiously, fingers digging into his arms a little meanly, “Stop moving around, alright? You're going to fall!”
“I'm not gonna fall,” Stiles rolls his eyes and he reaches a hand out to brush against your cheek, his pinky brushing the apple your cheek as his thumb presses lightly into your jaw, “Come on, don't you wanna know why I'm up here?”
You sigh softly, a small smile pulling at the corner of your lips while you release him with just one hand so that you can run your fingers through his floppy hair where it hangs loosely beneath his head. Your hand scrapes lightly though the soft strands, your cheek pushing imperceptibly into the warmth of his palm.
“Why are you on the roof, Sti?” You ask begrudgingly.
“Spiderman.”
“Spiderman?” You repeat slowly.
“Spiderman!” Stiles grins, “You know, the first one. The Raimi one-”
“Like.. Andrew Garfield?” You clarify with furrowed brows.
“What?” Stiles scoffs, “No! Toby Maguire! Baby, we watched them together-”
He looks appalled, mouth gaping just slightly in incredulity.
“Well, we watched the Andrew Garfield ones together too-” You defend with a small laugh, amusement filling your chest at just how worked up he seems to be getting by your mistake.
“The first one!” Stiles repeats in a huff, “Because that's the one where it's raining and he saves MJ and he's hanging upside-down in the alley and she pulls his mask down to kiss him as a thank you-”
“Ooh, a wet, New York City alleyway,” You tease, “How romantic.”
Stiles groans woefully, “This was supposed to be romantic. You are totally ruining this for me, right now, you know-”
His words do make you feel a little bad. He'd clearly put some thought into the idea. He'd climbed all the way up onto the roof of your porch, though you're still not quite sure how — there's no ladder in sight.
You plaster a sweet smile on your lips, slipping your feet up onto the rung at the bottom of the railing to boost you up another few inches, until your nose is level with Stiles' chin.
“I'm sorry, Stiles,” You murmur softly, chin tipping toward your chest so you can look into his eyes, “You wanted a big, superhero movie kiss?”
His adam's apple bobs when he swallows, his body reacting naturally to the familiar teasing lilt in your voice, “Uh huh.” He nods.
“Well gee,” You sigh wistfully as you drag a finger up the side of his cheek in a slow trail toward his mole-speckled neck, “You are awfully brave for climbing up there. And you did do it with the intention of wooing me..” Your teeth pull lightly at your lower lip and his eyes track the movement, “Maybe I could show you just how brave and sweet I think you are. Maybe.. I could show you how grateful I am, that you were willing to risk getting hurt for me.”
Stiles is nodding along, eyes wide with anticipation and cheeks flushed dark from a combination of your words and the blood rushing to his head in his current position, “Yeah.” He rasps weakly.
Your fingers curl around the back of his neck, your lips catching against his in just a light brush of skin, teasing. His lips part beneath your own and your warm breath mingles in the narrow space, the scent of spearmint overtaking your senses for a moment.
The hand on your cheek drags you closer in a gentle nudge as he grows impatient, and your mouths meet in a slightly awkward press of lips. Something about the new angle with such a familiar action scratches at the back of your brain, and you tilt your head just slightly when your mouths separate and rejoin only a second later.
Stiles presses his thumb softly into the hinge of your jaw in a silent request for you to open your mouth, his tongue catching on your lower lip before pressing inside and meeting your own.
Your tangle your fingers in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Another wet peck to his lips has him shuffling forward to chase your mouth the moment you ease back, and he seems to slip just a little further over the edge of the roof.
“Careful.” You warn softly.
“'m always careful.” Stiles whispers, his upturned nose pushing into your jaw as he kisses you again.
You lean back after allowing him another moment of indulgence. Stiles seems to follow the movement again, pitching forward as you go back like you're two magnets, but this time around he slips just a bit too far to allow for recovery. You can only watch on with wide eyes while he comes tumbling down from the roof and crashes into the bushes below with a small scream.
“Oh my god!” You gasp, leaning over the railing to watch your boyfriend roll into the grass with a groan, “Are you okay?”
“Never better.” Stiles manages weakly, voice hoarse.
“You sure about that, Spiderman?” You tease hopefully as you watch him drag himself to his feet, brushing himself off to free the small bits of branches and leaves and dirt that are now clinging to his clothes.
“Yeah,” Stiles sighs, “Yeah, 'm good.”
“Good,” You grin, beckoning him closer when he finishes ridding himself of yard debris and meets your eye, “You should get yourself a mask though. I hear masked superheroes tend get more than just kisses and I have to admit, I think it's kinda hot-”
“Noted,” Stiles agrees with wide eyes, tripping over his own feet and the porch stairs as he rushes toward you, “Fucking- Shit, I am so on it.”
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stilinskibaby · 2 months
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brother's best friend.
PAIRING : stiles stilinski x mccall!reader.
CONTENT : fluff ๑ angst ๑ smut
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it started out as a childhood crush, as most longterm infatuations do. you couldn't have been older than four when you met stiles, your stiles. he was missing his front tooth and he spoke with a lisp.
he was wildly loud and animated and you know when you're a kid and you think a boy is so cute that you're sure there's hearts in your eyes. he spoke of playing dragons and knights with scott, “oh! and you can be the princess.”
it was a memory that you kept crawling back to, a time much simpler than now. you could have let out a cold laugh, now you were in constant fear of your life, scott’s life, stiles’ life. it wasn't anything you couldn't handle but you wished for the times when all you had to worry about was your silly schoolgirl crush on stiles.
today was surprisingly quiet, just defeating peter and dealing with the deadpool, you were tired. all of you were, but you kept an eye open just on the off chance that something would try to kill one of your friends.
you stared at your reflection in the mirror, and dotted some concealer under your eyes, anything to make it look like you got some sleep last night. you didn't have scott’s powers to fall back on, nor lydia’s intelligence and intuition. everyday you wondered if you'd be another human lost in the fight against the preternatural.
you tried to wipe the thoughts from your head before walking down the main hall of the high school, stiles stood leaning against his locker while your brother talked about god knows what.
you walked up to the two of them and tried to act normal. like stiles isn't a whole foot away from you, like his cologne isn't enough to make your knees quiver, like every little wink, smile and joke doesn't make you wanna beg him to love you.
you'd been dealing with this crush for as long as you have memories, it should be easier by now. it seemed like lately though, it was getting harder. almost like he was purposefully invading all your thoughts.
“helllloooo?” you came back to the present because of stiles’ voice and scott's hand waving in front of your face. your skin warmed from the embarrassment of getting caught zoning out.
“what? sorry, I'm just tired,” you sighed, seemingly having said that alot recently. but dealing with what you can only assume to be a unrequited crush is tiring. especially when that crush happens to be on your brother's best friend.
stiles eyes squinted with disbelief. if there was one thing you hated about the boy, it was his ability to tell when anyone was lying.
“right, anyways,” scott continued eyeing you from the corner of his eyes but you were already zoning out again.
your day continued on like that, just skating by with your mind constantly drifting back to stiles. it felt almost like you were cursed, your brain almost short circuiting whenever you tried to think of literally anything else.
before you knew it, as if on airplane mode you found yourself walking out the doors towards the jeep. since scott started working at the clinic, you'd just been riding home with stiles. and due to the supernatural nature of your life, it's easier this way.
you climbed into the jeep and tried to keep a semblance of calm. stiles scent was invading your nostrils, with his lacrosse gear in the back seat and him sitting directly next to you. a soft song played on the radio, and if your emotions weren't getting the best of you ; you'd romanticize the man before you.
you were almost never quiet when left alone with stiles, it almost like you don't know how to shut up when around him. so the silence filling the jeep was becoming a bit much even for the hyperactive mind of stiles stilinski.
“you sure you're okay, sunshine?” his hand awkwardly patted your leg. stiles has been calling you sunshine forever, it's yours-and-his special little thing and even when you feel like the world is crushing you, it still gives you butterflies.
you had be around ten, you sat on the bus one seat in front of stiles and scott. stiles was talking mindlessly about lydia ( 12 year olds and their crushes ). and some kid was in the seat in front of you talking about how weird you were. being just a kid, you were almost to tears until stiles heard what the unkind words sprouted from the kid’s mouth.
“you don't even know what you're talking about! she's like sunshine.”
you found yourself blushing and feeling embarrassed, just for the kid to start making fun of you and stiles.
you let the silence hang a bit longer, trying to buy some time to tell a somewhat believable lie. the jeep came to a stop in front of stiles’ house. your eyebrows knit together trying to remember if there was some prior agreement that you forgot about.
“i think i know exactly what you need!” stiles spoke excitedly, and your heart felt like it was gonna fall out of your chest.
“a-and what's that?” you tried to convey a sarcastic tone but your voice shook as spoke. you prayed to whoever was listening that he didn't notice.
his eyes scanned your face as if trying to pry into your mind and it would give him all the answers. “movie night! i know we haven't done one in forever, but i think it'll help get your mind off whatever is bothering you. I know scott is usually here for this,” he sighed a little and rubbed the back of his neck.
your heart warmed, you couldn't believe the absolute kindness this boy had to offer. though every moment around him, was a kick to ego and a kiss for your heart.
“thank you, stiles,” his hand still awkwardly sat on your thigh, burning a metaphorical hole through your jeans.
he grinned that big smile, the one where his whole face turns into pure joy. it took everything in you not to just kiss him right there. and right as you began to get the courage he pops open his door and falls out the jeep. you chuckled to yourself bitterly.
you followed him into his room where you plopped yourself down on the bed. “so what's on tonight, star wars again?” you giggled as you watched him fumble through his dvds.
“actually, i rented heathers last night just for you, i know it's your favorite!” this boy was going to kill you.
and just like old times, he made popcorn and let you lay on his chest. you thought you might throw up. watching your favorite film, with the biggest crush of your life and it started to feel like you were suffocating.
you sat up anxiously, leaning against the wall, stiles’ head lazily rolled to the side, watching your every move.
“stiles,” your voice shook, your lips quivered and you were rubbing your hands intensely.
“hey! woah, hey, it's okay, whatever it is, it's okay, what's got you so upset? did you kill someone or something?” he tried to joke and relieve the tension and at this moment you think that might be an easier conversation.
“no, no, nothing like that,” the Perception of rejection was getting to you, an anvil falling on your heart. you laughed bitterly, “actually, now it feels so dumb. i just, stiles, i-i love you. i love you so much and i cant, i tried to swallow it and for a while that worked,” you were basically sobbing now eyes closed and lip shaking and you were about to lose your breath.
“but i can't, and I can't keep pretending i dont, but it's killing me and that feels dramatic but please, please don't hate me.” he knew this was very serious for you, a girl that almost never let anyone see her cry. amd he didn't mean to, and he feels so bad for it but he laughs, it just thr awkwardness that's in his bones.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, please I didn't mean to laugh, but i guess it just seems so silly to me that you wouldn't just tell me or someone and let it get so bad.” he pauses almost like he's trying to find his words. and all you can think about is running, running as fast as you can but his hand is on your leg and you'd feel so bad for it.
“i can't believe you could be so oblivious, I've been trying to hint to you for years now that i felt the same,” you didn't let him finish his sentence instead, doing what you've always wanted to do : kiss him. your lips mold together perfectly, you felt so far away, like you were in a dream.
the dream felt more hazy, when his hands find your hips and pull you into his lap. you can feel his cock hardened underth you, restrained by his jeans. you grind against and whimper into his mouth.
“stiles, stiles if you don't do something right now,” your words were breathless, somewhere between a whimper and a whine. his fingers move quickly to undo his jeans, while you shed yourself of everything but your bra and panties. you always wore cute panties in a secret way to manifest this happening.
as soon as he has you below, his hands are moving to grope your tits, he groans, eyes scanning every inch of your body, trying to commit every part of you to memory.
“fuck, you're so pretty, baby.” his words go straight to your core, warm, wet and clenching around nothing. you're thoughtless, the only thing left in your mind is him, so you just whine.
his fingers trace around your hips and slide your thong to the side to get a view of your beautiful cunt.
“you ready?” you nod, and he shakes his head, as if a new man. “say it,” as his hands slide over every part of your body except where you need him most.
“m ready, please stiles need you, need your cock. please, please” you were practically begging so pumped himself a few times before sheathing his full length into your cunt. it's so deliciously painful.
“mm such a good girl, taking me so well,” he pressed his lips against your forehead in a long kiss. before giving you long thick strokes, ans his hand reaching between you to rub little circles onto your clit. you were seeing white as continued to fuck you, your fingernails scraping against his pale skin.
his teeth gritted as he moaned, trying so hard to hold back. “m close, please please.” you whined and he fucked you faster, and harder. rough groans falling out of his lips.
your climax was closing in on your, your nails skating harder against him, your legs closing in around his hips. you basically screamed your orgasm out against stiles neck. he chuckled to himself, proud he could do all this. he funally let go, fucking you both through your climaxes. and keeping his now soft cock in your cunt, to keep his cum in you. thank god for birth control.
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princesssmars · 6 months
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practical magick
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a stiles stilinski x witch!reader
plot : just when stiles thought he had gotten used to the dramatics of the supernatual, he happens across you performing magic in the forest. when you fail to wipe his memory, his thursday afternoon gets a whole lot weirder.
wc : 4.678
contains : sfw. kissing at the end. the picture for look inspo is fair-skinned but the reader's skin color is not described! reader has hair! google translated latin sorry 😞i like my men loserish and obsessed sorry.
a/n : yasss a little halloween special. rewatching teen wolf for the third time bc idfk. is it obvious i love witch!reader's yet.
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for the first time in over a decade, stiles stilinksi was bored out of his mind.
he had previously thought that given his adhd gave him a deep desire to be doing literally anything all the time that the word bored wouldn't enter his daily vocabulary until he died.
yet here he is, kicking his feet at the dead leaves on the ground as he searched for any hidden traces of wolfsbane. the only reasons this had even happened was because he had opened his big mouth too many times and was sent on a busy quest by deaton, to "make sure the surrounding areas were safe for werewolves."
just reminding himself of what led him here was enough to tick him off again. it wasn't like the past two years have been easy, being under the constant threat of werewolves, werewolf hunters, kanimas, etcetera etcetera. it was enough to stress out the most stable of adults, and stiles was the direct opposite of that, so of course he got nervous and started talking over people and pissing them off.
"stupid wolfsbane, stupid werewolves," he mumbles, kicking at more of the dead brown leaves on the forest floor, tearing a line of the familiar purple plant up from the ground and stuffing it into the brown sack in his other hand. once he was done it was likely it would either be tucked in jars in deaton's stash or burned. he wouldn't mind seeing the latter.
its another twenty moments of grumbling and scavenging before a sound in the distance stops him in his tracks. he stands still, making sure that he barely breathes before he relaxes, figuring his anger and memories are making him paranoid of the woods.
a minute later he wishes his mind was playing tricks on him, because he nears the noise again, but this this its louder.
"its closer," he thinks.
he barely even registers when his legs start running. he may have a bag full of wolfsbane, but there was no guarantee the threat was something the plant could harm. and he didn't feel like tempting fate today.
at this point he's slightly lost his direction, but when he passes the stunted redwood stump he and scott carved their names into during the fifth grade he starts to understand where he is, and as his heart beats in his hears he knows if he turns right here he'll come up onto the old willow tree-
in the span of ten seconds he smacks head on into a hard object, falling on his ass and gasping as the air is knocked from his lungs. he blinks quickly to try to rid of the black spots in his vision, and before he can comprehend it he's making eye contact with you.
he's slightly embarrassed that the first thought that races across his mind is how pretty you are. he knows he should be wary of you, but he can't help it. your hair is a rich (h/c), seeming to almost shine despite the sun being blocked by clouds. your skin is smooth and your eyes are gorgeous and big and still staring straight at him.
you both rush to stand up. he holds his hands out in a way that you would calm a wild animal, hoping it doesn't piss you off.
you continue to stare at him. which isn't helping calm down his racing pulse.
"uh, alright. look, i'm not gonna hurt you, alright? i'm just...looking for something..."
before he can finish his sentence, you raise your hands to cup the sides of his face. his words die in his mouth and he feels his cheeks warm up to the point he's surprised they haven't burned your palms. you look determined, and for a second he feels like he's gone to heaven
"convertere et perge quid agas. oblivisceris quid hic vidisti."
turn around and continue what you're doing. you will forget what you saw here.
his mouth opens and his brows scrunch in shock. he never thought those latin lessons he took online and with lydia would pay off, but he's really glad he did them now.
he considers doing what you said, just turning around and forgetting all about this encounter. but unfortunately his curiosity is getting the better of him, and if his suspicions are correct he needs to know more about you.
"i'm gonna guess you just tried to put a spell on me, right?"
your eyes widen so largely he's afraid they're going to pop out of your skull.
"i..i don't understand, that should have worked. are you a warlock? druid?"
"no, no. i'm just stiles." he tells. his guess that you were something supernatural is partially confirmed, since you know about druids and the whole tried to put a spell on him thing.
"well, stiles, unless you tell me why my spell didn't work on you i'm most likely going to have to kill you." you deadpan.
he thinks you're kidding so he eta out a strained laugh. you don't even twitch.
he wracks his brain for a good enough excuse that will save his life before his arm moves without command and thrusts the bag in your direction.
"well, i have a uh, a bag full of wolfsbane, if that matters at all. pretty sure it does since…yeah…wolfsbane”
yours eyes dart from him to the bag, most likely not trusting that their isn’t some insta-death powder that will pop out as soon as you open it, so he looses his thumbs grip and steps closer so you can see the purple herbs inside.
“hate to admit it but you’re right,” you sigh, pushing back some hair from your face. his eyes follow the movement before darting back to yours.“ that much wolfsbane would make most supernatural or magical doings wonky.”
"yes, yes! exactly. that makes sense. im sorry about that-"
"why would you even have that much wolfsbane anyway? are you a hunter?"
"what? no, no! im not, i swear to you im not a hunter. i can explain this, really i can." he nearly chokes on his words at the speed he speaks.
you stare at him for a few seconds more before crossing your arms over your chest, hopefully about to let him explain why he has a bag filled to the brim with a dangerous plant on a random afternoon.
when you start to walk directly past him into the forest he doesn’t think he’s ever been more confused.
"fine. you can explain it on the way back.”
he’s as still as a statue as he process your words. you just accused him of being a hunter and now you want him to follow you to whatever mysterious place your going? even for him this is weird, and he’s ten seconds from refusing-
“hurry up.”
he rushes to catch up behind you.
after around twenty minutes of stiles repeatedly asking where you were going followed by silence on your end, you finally reach a clearing in the woods filled by a large victorian-era house, fully black with large looming windows lit up by warm golden lighting coming from inside. there's a nearly fully glass sunroom/greenhouse on the right side, and he can see from here the varying flowers and plants that fill the room. he wants to ask how a house like this could be kept under wraps from the rest of the town, but then he remembers.
magic, duh.
you lead him through the threshold of the home and down a hallway until you arrive in what must be your living room, not giving him a chance to admire the room before you're pushing on his shoulders so he sits in a loveseat, taking your own seat across from him. your legs spread and you rest your elbows on your knees as you glare at him, causing him to shift in his seat.
"why are you carrying a bag full of wolfsbane?"
"my friend's boss, deaton. he asked me to pick up any wolfsbane in the woods to make it safer for them when they do the whole wolfing out thing."
"deaton's working with werewolves again? does he have a death wish?" your brow raises in confusion, he notes how the fingers on your right-hand scratch at the skin on your right.
"i'll be honest, you're kind of creeping me out."
"thank you. why is he doing it?"
"my friend, scott. he's a werewolf. and so are our friends erica and boyd. and derek and his weird uncle peter-"
"the fucking hale's are back? are you kidding?" a scoff leaves you and you get up out of your chair, starting to pace back and forth in front of his chair.
"yeah, it was this whole thing with peter being evil and killing his niece, and he turned scott but scott thought it was derek who turned him. it was a whole thing. not to mention how peter came back from the dead-"
you continue to walk around the room while occasionally pausing to pay attention as the boy details the events that have happened in the past year. despite you being a stranger it felt oddly cathartic to vent about everything that had happened to him. admitting to the countless times he felt scared out of his mind but had to stay strong lest his enemies take advantage of it.
"that's a lot for a normal human to go through in just a year with no prior knowledge of the supernatural. i'm surprised your brain didn't implode from the stress."
he blinks. "thanks. i guess."
"you're welcome. i'm going to make some tea. stay here," you say, moving from standing across from him to heading to a room near the side of the room, able to faintly see some dark counters and pots and herbs hanging from the ceiling, "not like you'd be able to leave anyway."
that's reassuring, stiles thinks to himself, bouncing his leg up and down where he sits. after a minute he figures you won’t kill him horrendously if hes looks around a bit, so he gets up and starts observing the countless pictures on the walls. some are old, like the people in them are wearing outfits from a few hundred years ago, while some are colored and recent. in most of the recent ones, you’re with three older women who look just as dark but ethereal as you do.
he continues looking at some pictures and hung-up trinkets when you come back into the room with two cups of tea, handing one with a smile to the wary boy with a halfhearted promise that it’s “totally not poisoned.”
“can i ask you a question?” he asks, sipping at his tea after he discovers it’s not poisoned and actually really good. he was never really fond of tea, always preferring coffee or energy drinks when he was in a low-energy period. he remembers his mom liked chamomile tea.
“you just did. but go ahead.”
“why would you let me in here? you could have just questioned me at the willow tree, you didn’t have to let me into your house. not that i don’t like your house. i like the whole victorian gothic vibe.”
you don’t answer for a solid minute, slowly drinking from your cup as you stare into the lite fireplace.
“witches pride ourselves on our knowledge. to be aware of our abilities and surroundings at all times to best stimulate our growth. and as much as i’d like to be this powerhouse who could take down any threat, i know i’m not. if you actually were powerful and i tried to take you on myself? who knows what would happen.”
“and i’m guessing that magical barrier around the house would protect you in case i really did try anything?” he gently asks, not wanting to talk too loudly to distract you from opening up to him.
“exactly. plus if you tried anything my aunts probably would have put a curse on you and your loved ones. something not too flashy to attract attention, but enough to cause great suffering.” he notices your soft sigh when you stop talking, almost like you’re disappointed you won’t get to see this suffering play out.
“plus it’s better to know where your talents excel,” you continue, setting your cup down on a skull patterned coaster on the coffee table in front of you. “i’ve always been better at using my magic to investigate my surroundings. helps to find materials or signs of psychos roaming around.”
something you two have in common. it makes his mouth quirk up.
“so, the werewolves and all the other things being back in town, that’s a problem for you and your aunts, right?”
“yup. if it was just werewolves it’d be normal for beacon hills, but kanimas and a whole pack of alphas? who knows how much that can disrupt the natural balance and what more they’ll bring.”
he thinks over his next words carefully. scott would likely be upset at first at him for trusting you, but he was also the nicest person stiles had ever met. if you could help them then it was worth the risk.
“then how about a trade. you help us with this alpha problem, and you get the experience you need to become a great and all powerful witch. pretty soon you'll be riding your broom to your heart's content."
you can’t help but scoff a laugh as you think it over. he starts to think you’re about to reject the offer as you stare him down before you get up and offer him a hand.
“you’ve got a deal.”
after shaking on it, you send the boy back with his bag of wolfsbane and a few more helpful weeds from your greenhouse, giving him a note to give to deaton so he won’t ask too many questions.
when he returns to the vets office he dumps the materials on the operating table, ignoring isaacs joke about how if he took any longer they’d all be alpha chow by now. he can tell deaton is concerned about where he got the vials of strange red and yellow herbs, but when he reads the note his eyes widen and he lets out a mix between a laugh and a sigh. scott asked insistently what was on the note but his boss refused to tell him what it said.
before he left to drive home, deaton pulled stiles to a corner and told him that he had been in close contact with one of your aunts before something happened a few years after the hale fire that caused them to go into hiding and cut contact with all supernaturals they had previously been helping, including him as the emissary of the hale family.
as he lay in bed that night staring up at his ceiling, all he could think about was you. you were a welcome distraction from the chaos of his current life, a pretty distraction at that. if not a bit scary. which he didn't mind all that much.
the both of you spent more time together in the following weeks. at first, it was just simple conversations by the willow tree talking about the werewolf situations and checking what materials deaton needed from your family. as time went on his curiosity got the best of him and he started to ask you more questions about your life.
"so hit me if this is stupid but did you have any family in salem? or can you like make a potion ina cauldron to see if I did because I could use that as massive bargaining power in fights with issac-ow! why'd you hit me?"
"you said i could."
"yeah but not so hard. jeez, ever thought of quitting this witch thing and trying boxing."
"never thought of it. maybe i should start now. with your face."
"really funny."
(your threats kind of reminded him of derek, but had less of an 'i'm about to rip your throat out and eat your esophagus vibe.' slightly.)
but as time went on it got deeper. as he told him more about himself you started to do the same, once even apologizing for "giving off psycho killer bitch vibes" and chalking it up to being so isolated from people for most of your life. he told you he didn't mind the vibes, assuring you he liked it maybe a little too excitedly.
he could really feel the shift when one day he came up to the willow tree and he saw you, standing with a frame photo in your hands and nearly on the brink of tears. he was so shocked at seeing you show such intense emotion he wasn't watching where he was going and stepped on a branch, alarming you as your head whipped to him like a deer in headlights.
"i...im sorry. i can leave if you want."
"no no, it's," you shook your head, looking down at the photo once again. "it's fine. it doesn't matter."
"well if it's enough to make you cry id say its world ending-"
"could you just shut up? for once in your life?"
it's quiet for a minute, the only sound in the air being the gentle breeze. even thought the comment stings stiles knows all too well you're just lashing out in anger and hurt.
"im sorry."
"don't apologize. i get it, i do." he moves closer until he's standing beside you, walking slowly so he doesn't make you lash out again.
he looks down at the photo and he gets it. its you, about six or seven with a bright smile on your face and standing with two people he can tell are your parents. he can see the resemblance. you have one of their smiles and hair color, the other's nose, and by their clothes, the same dark style.
"its been over ten years. since i lost them," you whisper, your voice sounding more weak than he's ever heard it. "itd be nice if I was staying with my aunts for some sabrina the teenage witch reason but no. i don't have a choice."
he gently puts a hand on your shoulder. "i get it, i do. i lost my mom. every day i remember things about her in things i do. it hurts but its better than forgetting."
you sniff and hes about to back up when you put your hand over his on your shoulder, gripping it tightly. it hurts a bit. he doesn't really care.
"its not fair."
"its not."
"...thank you."
"don't mention it."
you give him with the materials and he's about to leave when you stop him, your hand grasping his wrist. he wants to ask whats wrong but he stops. you're staring right at him, into his soul he thinks, and all he wants is to hold you and tell you any pain he's suffered the past few years is worth it because it led him to you, that even if you asked him to sacrifice himself on an alter for a spell that would make you happy for a minute he would do it-
"this bracelet. i want you to wear it and don't take it off no matter what, all right?"
hey, that works for him.
as soon as the bracelet was clasped around his wrist he felt different. like his nerves were tingling and his brain was warm. he felt like he was going to get the most powerful migraine in existence and reached to take it off when you took his hand again.
"please. just give it a minute."
and so he did.
only thirty seconds of dull pain later and he felt normal, if not better. like when you're a kid and have the best day of your life and return home to a good meal. a nice bath, and a great night's rest. he feels almost powerful.
"hey what is this thing? did you just give me powers? is this gonna make me your servant or something?"
"bye stiles."
he gives deaton the materials after telling scott where he was ignoring the weird look on his face before the boy goes back to examining an adorable beagle on the operating table.
deaton takes the bag and bottles with an appreciative smile, his eyebrows scrunching up when he notices the jewelry on stiles wrist.
"where'd you get that bracelet?"
"uhh, i found it. at a thrift shop. thought it looked cool. why?"
deaton clearly doesn't believe him but decides to entertain stiles anyway. "the band is a normal bracelet but the charms are what makes it special. they're pagan."
"could you explain them to me? just because you know."
the vet just shakes his head and laughs before pointing to each one.
"this one, the witchs knot. standard symbol for warding off evil. its mostly used as a protection charm."
stiles admires the charm, the metal silver with the symbol burned into it. it looks like a circle with a line roped in and out of four points of it.
"this, hecates wheel. a goddess of magic, as you probably already know. symbolizes the power of knowledge and life."
this charm is a bit heavier, the stone looking weathered with a scratched labyrinth engraved on it, a distinct 'x' in the middle of it.
"and this one is..." deaton starts before his words trail off. stiles looks at it. it looks like four combined circles, each with symbols inside them. the two across from each other on the side looking like two crescent moons, the one on the top holding a basic pentagram. but he doesn't recognize the one on the bottom-two perpendicular lines forming an 'x' with little swirly lines coming from the middle on the top and bottom.
"what? what does it mean? is it bad?"
"no, it's not bad at all, stiles. the crescents and pentagram are used in another basic protection spell. more protection for the user."
"and the one on the bottom?"
"well, i don't honestly know what it is. its most likely a personal sigil made by the person who made it. but by my guess, based on others I've seen before, it might mean whoever made it has a deep love and affection for whoever they gifted the bracelet to."
stiles thought he was keeping his cool, but scott made extra sure to remind him the following days and the dumbass look on his face when deaton explained the symbol to him.
he didnt know what to do. this had to mean you felt the same way he did about you, right? why else would you gift him a love sigil on a bracelet you insisted he wear? for a second he considered it was a love spell you tried to put on him, but he was feeling iffy about that. mostly about how he wouldn't care that much.
(he apparently admitted that in a sleepy haze when he was sleeping over at scotts, and he's never wanted to die more than when he woke up and realized issac of all people heard him.)
the next time he saw you he tried as hard as he could to act casual. you asked him about ten times if he was okay, and he eventually came up with a good enough 'just a slight stomach bug' lie and regretted it immensely when you invited him back to your house, telling him you'd been practicing making simple health remedies and you had the perfect thing to fix him.
the whole walk to your house he was on edge, his palms feeling sweaty for the first time in his life as he repeatedly wiped them off on his pants. just like the first meeting, you tell him to wait on the couch and he lets out a shaky breath when you leave into the kitchen.
what does he do? does he confess? does he need to? he was so scared that he was being too obvious and maybe that's why you put the sigil on the bracelet, to let him know you returned his affections. but what is he wasn't obvious? and he was basically telling you he only liked you because you liked him? what if-
"stop staring into space and drink this tea, dummy."
he laughs awkwardly and takes the ornate cup from your hand, sniffing the tea before he drinks it. it's sweet but savory, smelling like nutmeg and milk. he can see little flakes and leaves floating on the top. he takes a sip and hums at the taste.
"screw boxing, you should be a professional chef. i'm gonna need you to give me this recipe."
"yeah right. a witch never reveals her secrets." you scoff before sitting down next to him on the couch. you put your arm up on the back and rest your head on your wrist as you cross your legs, your foot brushing against his leg. he nearly spills the tea over his lap.
he can't help but admire you. he had given you a few magazines he'd gotten from stores and stuff to better show you how people were dressing these days, and while you'd hated most of it you took to some trends, wearing a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a pair of combat boots. he tried to focus on the rips in your jeans as to not let his eyes wander up, where you were wearing a leather halter camisole with nothing underneath. he can't help but laugh in his head when he thinks of the word camisole. maybe he was spending too much time around lydia.
"stiles? seriously are you possessed or something? normally you'd be talking my ear off trying to guess exactly what ingredients i used for the tea."
he sets the cup down after taking another long sip and turns his body to you, your eyebrows raising in what he can tell is amusement. most people could easily get annoyed by his theatrics, but after your near trauma bonding at the willow tree, you had always made sure to welcome them with a smile.
"look, i have something to say. which you probably already know, but i need to say it to you anyway to make sure you really know, y'know?"
you blink. "go ahead."
he breathes in and out a few times, his previous confidence suddenly disappearing.
"let me guess, you saw the sigil and now you're going to confess your love to me?"
he goes into a near coughing fit.
"how, well thanks because now i dont have to actually say it, but if you had given me a minute-"
before he knows it you're scooting closer, your faces just a few inches apart. you're staring at him with that same look you had when you gave him the bracelet. his breath is picking up and he bites his bottom lip, your eyes darting to the motion.
"can i kiss you?"
"yes, god yes-"
your hand grips his chin and brings his lips to yours, the intensity and plushness of it nearly driving him insane. he doesn't really know what to do with his hands, settling to just keep them on his lap before your other hand brings them to your waist and squeezes them in place. at this point you're nearly on his lap and that combined with the kiss and the fact he swears he just felt your tongue poke his lip is going to be the death of him.
he pulls away from the kiss and kneads his hands on your hips, able to feel the softness of your skin on the places where the camisole lifts up.
"wow. i mean just...arent you a recluse? where'd you learn to kiss like that? have you like, conjured up clones to practice with or something."
"stiles?"
"yeah?"
"shut up and kiss me again."
"whatever you say, babe."
for the first time in his life, stiles stilinksi thinks everything is gonna work out.
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ty for reading! had to tell myself to get up off my ass and write at 3am and wrote about half of this so sorry for any dialogue inconsistencies. love you bye bye.
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Note: feel free to comment, criticize and point out any mistakes all is appreciated 💗
Sorry this is kind of short but I’m trying to change that in future fics :)
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader
Warnings: kissing? And a suggestive comment, fluff
You lay on Stiles' bed, doodling hearts on his cast. Playing lacrosse with a group of werewolves had unsurprisingly turned out to be a bad idea, resulting in a trip to the ER due to a broken arm. Fortunately, it was only a practice session, so not too many people witnessed him wailing in pain and refusing anyone's help, which, of course, made you and the whole squad burst into fits of laughter.
"My big baby," you teased, signing your name with even more hearts next to it and putting down the marker. "My reaction was 100% understandable, so I have no idea what you mean," Stiles turned his face away from you. "Imagine getting body-slammed to the ground by a 170-pound dude charging at you THAT fast," he added, turning toward you with a raised eyebrow.
"Whose great idea was it to let you play, anyway? Oh right, it was you," you shook your head, getting a weak smile from Stiles. "Well, at least cause you're not playing, I have you all to myself." You propped yourself up and met his face, leaning in for a kiss. "And because you're such a big baby, I'll help out with anything you need as your arm heals and all."
"Anything?" Stiles asked with a smirk. You gave him a light chuckle in response. "Really Stiles?," you said, planting another kiss on his face
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dcangel · 2 months
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stiles who sleeps with his head on your stomach, his hand under your (his) shirt resting on your bare breast. oddly enough, it’s not anything sexual. could it have been? most definitely. had he originally intended it to be? presumably so. but he was drained in more ways than one from the two hours you two spent pleasing each other in the little free time you had, and his drowsy mind chose to not spark something new. nonetheless, he still enjoyed the physical contact, even through his slumber. he convinced himself that it was his own little compromise between intimacy and a comforting dormancy with his favorite person. and your hands combing through his loose brown waves only seemed like reassurance in his lucid state.
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star-girl-05 · 1 year
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Game Night
Stiles Stilinski x reader
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“Scott hates me” you whine, laying against the bed. In the beginning you thought it was your imagination. Now though you know it’s not all in your head, Scott hates you.
Today Stiles had a lacrosse game so you being his girlfriend were there. The game went amazing. Stiles ended up scoring the final goal of the game. You were so proud of him, the smile on his face made yours grow. You ran onto the field embracing him in a big hug giving him a kiss on the lips. He laughed against your lips holding you close to him and twirling you around. “Congrats, baby” you mumble against his lips.
He placed another kiss on your lips before telling you that he had to go to the locker room. You nodded watching him head to the locker room with the other players. He gave you a final wave before disappearing from your sight.
After a few minutes you decide to wait by the locker rooms for him. The two of you have plans to go back to his house. While waiting for him that's where you heard it. You hadn't meant to eavesdrop but when you heard your name you couldn’t help but listen.
“Is Stiles coming tonight?” you recognized the voice as Lydia.
“No he’s going with Y/n” you could hear the annoyance in Scott's voice. “This is the third time he’s declined hanging out to spend time with Y/n.”
“What’s wrong with you thats his girlfriend? Don’t tell me you're jealous” you could hear her laugh at the thought but Scott doesn’t.
“Of course I’m not jealous I just don’t like her” you could hear Lydia question why that was. His answer solidified the idea that he hates you. “Stiles can do so much better than her.” You tuned out the rest of their conversation.
You knew Scott didn’t like you but you hoped that over time he would warm up to but he never did. The rest of the group didn’t mind you the girls would invite you out shopping and to sleepovers. It was just Scott that didn't like you and you had no idea what you did. Now you find out it was nothing you did, he just didn’t like you; he thought Stiles could do better. You finally had the answer to the question that had been plaguing your mind for months.
Your problems weren't over though with one question answered, more showed up. Did Stiles know how Scott felt about you? If he knows about how Scott felt about you, would he break up with you? You know how much Stiles loves Scott so the idea that Stiles would break up with you to make Scott happy wasn’t too far-fetched.
You watched as Stiles took off his jersey throwing it in the hamper. He changed into his pajamas before sitting on the bed next to you. “Scott doesn’t hate you” he grabbed your arm pulling you into him. The two of you are cuddled up in bed together, your head on his chest while his hand runs up and down your side. You lean up and place a kiss on his lips. You weren't planning on telling him about what you heard but you did want to gauge if he knew how Scott felt.
“If Scott asked you to break up with me would you” you could tell the question surprised him. He tensed under you. Stiles had just had a big win, his shining moment and you felt you were running it and you were. It was selfish of you to bring this up but you needed to know before it got any worse.
“Where is this coming from?” he chuckled at the sudden question but stopped when he saw the look in your eyes. You were being dead serious. He could see the doubt in your eyes about your answer. It hurt him thinking that you doubted his love towards you. “Of course not baby” the sincerity in his voice made you believe him. The look of complete love in his eyes settled all your doubt.
You lift yourself up off his chest placing a deep kiss on his lips he returned the gesture right away. Pulling you into his lap, his hands on your hips as he deepened the kiss. He started to place kisses on your neck. Sucking dark hickeys into your neck mumbling small ‘I love yous’ against your neck. You whisper ‘I love yous’ back to him.Every last one of your doubts disappeared with every ‘I love you’ and kiss. You're not going to let Scott come between the two of you again. It no longer mattered if Scott liked you because Stiles did he loved you and you love him.
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sarcasm-and-stiles · 5 months
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Y/N: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night?
Stiles: It was autocorrect.
Y/N: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."?
Stiles: Yes.
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mxltifxnd0m · 4 months
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𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗗𝗔𝗟𝗔 𝗩𝗦 𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦
»——•——«»——•——«
Summary: You and Stiles can’t choose a couples costume
Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x fem! Reader, Scott McCall x platonic fem! Reader 
Words: 1.6K
»——•——«»——•——«
Warnings: no use of y/n, fluff, language, suggestive, spicy, implied smut, BUT NO SMUT, kinda a college au!
A/N: This was intended to be released in October, but I could not figure out how to finish it for my life. But hey, better late than never, am I right? Anyway I had no clue that Han and Leia’s ship name was Scoundress, but the more you know. Also, it is my first time writing for Stiles!
not beta read but YOLO
𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘪 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
»——•——«»——•——«
"I don't know why you insist we should be Anakin and Padme! We would fit Leia and Han more for Halloween." Stiles whispered harshly, not looking up from the notebook that he was scribbling in.
You roll your eyes at him, "What are you talking about? I said we could do either, but I'd prefer if we were Anakin and Padme." You whisper to him. His head snaps up to protest, but a chair scrapes along the carpeted floor and interrupts Stiles. 
"There you guys are! I was wondering where you were." Scott says a little too loud, and the people at the other tables surrounding you and Stiles give Scott a dirty look.
"Scott, I know you don't visit the library often, but we typically use our inside voices." You whisper as he sits down next to Stiles. Scott shoots you a glare. 
"Anyways, I disagree. We should be Leia and Han, and that's final." You can see that Stiles is done with the conversation.
You squint suspiciously at your boyfriend, "You just want to see me in Leia's slave outfit from ROTJ, don't you?" You can see a red flush creep up Stiles's face and the tips of his ear as he stammers, trying to defend himself before giving up and returning to his notes. You chuckled under your breath to avoid disturbing the other students. 
Scott looks between the two of you, confused, "What are you guys even talking about?" 
"We are trying to figure out what costume we will wear to the party your frat is hosting." You explain, your voice low, "But we are split between two costumes. I want us to be Anakin and Padme, but Stiles-" He snaps up at the call of his name, focusing on the conversation, "-wants us to be Leia and Han." You glare at Stiles. 
"I thought Luke and Leia were together?" Scott says cluelessly. Both you and Stiles groan loudly at Scott's words. A girl from a nearby table glares at you and shushes you. You apologize quietly and turn your gaze to Scott. 
"We've gone over this before Scott. Luke and Leia are siblings, and Han and Leia are together. Do you just forget the movies as soon as we watch them?" Stiles asked exasperatedly. 
"No, I tend to fall asleep halfway through the marathons," Scott says guiltily as he scratches the back of his neck. Stiles closes his eyes and uses his hand to rub his face frustratedly. Stiles murmured something under his breath, and Scott's face screwed up into an offended expression.  
"I heard that." 
"Yeah, no shit, you did. I'm the one who said it for your little werewolf ears to hear." Stiles scoffed quietly at Scott. 
Scott goes to retort, but you snap your fingers twice to get their attention. "As much as I would love to see the two of you bicker, we all know how loud you guys get when you do, and I don't fancy getting kicked out of the library." You smile sardonically at them. They roll their eyes at you but yelp in pain as you lean over the table and tug their ears. 
"Could you guys be quiet? Some people are studying." The girl from earlier whispered firmly to you guys. 
You wince at her tone, "Sorry, we're leaving now." You whispered. You glared at Scott and Stiles and started to pack up your things to leave the library. Stiles scrambled to pack his things, and the two boys followed you outside the library. 
Stiles wraps an arm around your shoulder as you walk through the quad. You thread your fingers through his hand, and he squeezes your hand three times. The annoyed expression melted off your face, and a smile replaced it. You take a quick glance at your phone, checking the time. 
Your eyes widen, "Shit! I have to go! My class starts in 10 minutes." You untangle yourself, "Our discussion isn't over." You tell Stiles before separating yourself from him, pecking his cheek, and waving goodbye at the both of them as you speed walk to your class. 
»——•——«»——•——«
The sound of a keyboard clacking echoes through your silent bedroom. You're hunched over your laptop on your bed as you work on one of your papers for your English class. Lofi beats play quietly in your headphones as you read through your paper for the final time before returning to it tomorrow to edit it. A knock at your bedroom door catches your attention. 
"Yeah, what's up?" You say to your roommate as she peaks her head into your room. 
"You have a visitor." She says with a knowing smirk on her face. 
You roll your eyes at her, smiling, "Tell him he's actually banned from the apartment, then let him in." You instruct as you remove your headphones and stretch your back from your hunched position.  
She nods and closes your door before leaving. You can hear the voice of your roommate and Stiles's voice talking lowly in the apartment's entryway. You hear a scoff from Stiles and footsteps quickly entering the apartment and heading toward your room. He burst through your door, pointing at you. 
"You are so mean, you know that?" Stiles says with a slight pout on his face. He removed his backpack and toed off his shoes to leave near your door. He stands in the doorframe for a moment before you see a mischievous glint passes through his eye, and you catch it. 
"Stiles." You say his name warningly. 
He sends you an innocent smile before quickly running towards you and jumping onto your bed. You yelp loudly, closing your laptop and moving it out of the way of Stiles's landing. He lands on top of you, effectively pinning you to the bed. You can feel Stiles's chest move from his giggling fit as you try to squirm from underneath him. You give up after trying to push him off of you and thread your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp. He relaxes on top of you, settling his total weight on you. After a few minutes, he eventually rolls off you and sits on your bed.
"Any reason as to why you're at my apartment?" You ask him as you sit up and shift until your back rests against your headboard. You go to grab your laptop, but it's quickly moved from out of your reach, and you turn to glare at your boyfriend. 
"Oh, don't give me that look, you know what that does to me babe." Stiles sarcastically as he moves your laptop to your desk. 
"Besides, I'm here to present my argument as to why we should be Han and Leia for Halloween and not Anakin and Padme." Stiles moves closer to you and boops your nose after he finishes his sentence. You scrunch your nose at his actions and shake your head at him.  
"Nope, not going to hear it." 
He groans loudly, "I knew I shouldn't have asked you out, you prefer the prequels over the originals." He flops down on your bed, his head landing on your lap as his legs dangle over the side of the bed. 
"Is that your way of saying that we should break up?" You raise an eyebrow at him. 
He shot up from your lap, "NO! Absolutely not. You're like the woman of my dreams. I'd be an idiot if I broke up with you. Especially with the amount of shit we went through together in high school. I actually had dreams about marrying you, so-" His hands wave wildly as he begins to ramble. You roll your eyes at him and grab his chin to kiss his mouth to shut him up. He immediately shuts up and melts into the kiss. You peck his lips before pulling away. 
"You're such a dork." You smile at Stiles. 
"You're dating this dork." 
"Yeah, maybe Lydia was right. I am out of your league." You joke, and a noise of offense comes from Stiles. You chuckle at his pouty expression and peck his lips.
"I'm kidding babe." You say as you pull away. You move around the bed to straddle him, your thighs on either of his hips, his hands coming to rest on your waist, and you rest your arms on his shoulders. 
"How about we make a compromise? We go as Anakin and Padme this year, and then we can go as Han and Leia next Halloween." Stiles opens his mouth to respond, but you quickly put a finger in front of his lips. 
"I wasn't done, and to sweeten the deal, I'll wear Leia's slave outfit underneath both costumes." You lean closer to Stiles, "How does that sound." You whisper seductively in his ear and plant a kiss underneath it before pulling back to see his whiskey-colored eyes darkening slightly with desire. His hands tighten around your waist before flipping the two of you around, you landing on your back. At the same time, Stiles settles in between your open legs and hovering above you. 
"It doesn't sound fair, but if you wear the outfit often then I'll let it slide." He says lowly, lowering his face closer to yours. 
"Deal." You say breathily, your lips brushing his as you speak. 
"Deal." He says before smashing his lips against yours passionately. Your hands begin to wander and tug at each other's clothes. The room slowly grows hot and fills with low groans and whines coming from both of you. After you finished, you guys showered, went out to get the costumes, and tried them on when you returned to the apartment. 
Let's just say the slave outfit came off as soon as you put it on. 
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dylobilysmomg · 10 months
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Restless
𝗙𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺: 𝗧𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗸𝗶 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 𝟭.𝟭𝗸
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪! 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 (𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗻𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆, 𝘂𝗻𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅 (𝗪𝗥𝗔𝗣 𝗜𝗧 𝗕𝟰 𝗨 𝗧𝗔𝗣 𝗜𝗧!)
𝗔/𝗡: 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴! 𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 (𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵 𝘁𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘀!) 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗲. 𝗡𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗟𝘂𝘃 𝘆𝗮!!
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I seriously did not want to be here right now. Stiles and Scott dragged me out of my house late at night to break into some dude’s house. This was so annoying. I’ve had to sit on the couch and listen to the boys talk to this old guy for at least half an hour. I sat on the other couch, away from them. I crossed me legs and arms, leaning back into the couch cushions, a visible grimace on my face.
Scott and the man left the living room to look at some book, leaving Stiles and I alone. He looked at me, obviously noticing my discomfort and shuffling towards me. He took a seat next to me, turning to face me and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He kissed my cheek, “You okay?” He asked. “I want to go home.” I said bluntly. He sighed, “Come here.” He mumbled, trailing his hand away from my shoulder and to my jaw. I gave into his touch, leaning in to kiss him.
We pulled away from each other when we heard footsteps making their way towards the living room. After revealing Scott and the man, Scott announced that we were leaving. So the three of us made our way to the jeep, I hopped into the passenger seat.
Stiles then drove down the dark streets of Beacon Hills, making his way to Scott’s house to drop him off. The way Stiles treated me just then in the living room sparked a little something in me. Obviously it wasn’t the only reason. He looked exceptionally hot today. The backwards hat, the flannel, all of it. I crossed my legs tightly, trying to ease the warmth between them. I began shaking me leg and tapping my fingers on the console. I think Stiles noticed my restlessness too, because he kept sneaking glances at me. We eventually pulled up to Scott’s home in the dead of night and said our goodbyes. As we pulled away, Stiles spoke.
“What’s up with you?” I turned slightly in my seat to face him, “Can you pull into this parking lot?” I asked, pointing to the empty mini mall parking lot we were about to pass. He just furrowed his eyebrows in a confused expression, yet doing as I told. As he pulled into the vacant parking lot, amidst the dewy air, he turns off the jeep and looks to me for an answer.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned to him, grabbing his hand and bringing it to palm my clothed heat. “I need you.” Is all I said before he practically jumped into the back seat, throwing his hat off and kicking his shoes off. I crawled back behind him, kicking my shoes off aswell. I sat myself in his lap, straddling him. He wrapped his arms around my waist, his hands roaming over my ass and up my shirt. I clawed at his neck as we began to make out. Stiles leaned up off the back of the seat and tore his flannel off. I shoved my hands up his white shirt, forcing it off of him. He then pulled my shirt up over my head. He groaned at me. He laid me down for a moment as he feverishly dragged my pants and panties down my legs. I pushed him back up.
My hands went to his belt buckle, fiddling with it until it came undone. I pulled the zipper down and shoved my hand into his pants to grab him. He let out the most pornographic moans as I fondled with him. He grabbed my hand and forced it away from him, then kicking his jeans off, leaving him in his boxers. I straddled him once again, Stiles beginning to make his assault down my neck. He reached behind my back and snapped off my bra; I let it fall off my arms and to the ground. He brought his hands to them almost immediately, sighing as he played with me. I squeezed his shoulders as he brought his mouth to one of them.
“Okay that’s enough,” I said, feeding my fingers through his hair and pulling him away. Slowly I slip onto the floor board of the jeep, my hands going to the waistband of his plaid boxers. Stiles lifts his hips up off the seat and allows me to pull them down and off his legs, leaving him naked for me. I bring my lips to his glistening red tip, pressing feather-light kisses upon it. Stiles’s breathing picks up as I bring my tongue to the base of his cock, licking all the way up the underside before swallowing him into my mouth; bobbing my head up and down as he fails miserably at keeping quiet.
I feel his hands feed into the hair on the back of my head, forcing me down lower on him, gagging as his cock hits the back of my throat each time. Then not before long he has both hands through my hair, thrusting up and face fucking me. I can tell he’s getting close when he starts to twitch in my mouth, but he pulls me off if him just before.
“Enough about me, baby.” Stiles pants, pulling me up and back into his lap, grabbing his cock and lining it up for me to sink down on. I slowly sink down onto his cock, the both of us letting out a moan as i reach the hilt. I place my hands on his shoulders, bracing myself. I begin to bounce on his dick, Stiles squeezing my hips and lifting me up and down. He quickens the pace, and before long my head is buried into the crook of his neck while he thrusts up into me, making me see stars.
“Oh fuck, Stiles.” I moan into his ear, Stiles practically wrecking me. “You close?” He moans breathlessly, bringing a hand to my clit, slowly rubbing as he fucks me. I pull my head from his neck, sitting up and letting my head hang, looking at the ceiling of the jeep. “Yeah, yeah, keep going.” I reply, moans pouring out of me.
Stiles gripped my hips tighter, slamming up into me until I couldn’t take it anymore, arching my back into the air and throwing my head back, Stiles groaning as he came inside me. After we caught our breath, I slumped into him, panting into the crook of his neck.
After a moment I sat back up to look at him, grinning. This was my favorite Stiles. Fucked out, sweaty, and lovesick. His brows furrow, “Hmm?”
“Wanna go again?”
𝟔/𝟐𝟖/𝟐𝟑
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mysterious-ocarina · 1 year
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Worry
Stiles Stilinski x reader
Main Masterlist Requests
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(1.0k words)
Lacrosse. A sport that you would have never known about unless the love of your life was on the team. You weren’t a very sporty girl but you would never pass on the chance to watch a bunch of hot, sweaty boys run around a field. The only problem was that the one boy you wanted to see was always on the bench. 
You went to each game, but Stiles never got to play. You’ve seen him during practice and he wasn’t bad.
You have been friends with Scott and Stiles since you guys were kids. You've also been in love with Stiles for years. You loved the way he was always able to make you laugh.
When Scott became a werewolf and you were all introduced to the supernatural, your life was turned upside down. But Stiles was always there to make you smile and make a serious situation less hard to get through.
This was probably the most nerve wracking game you've ever been to, simply because Gerard was threatening us to give him Derek.
Eventually you heard the Sheriff, who's sitting next to you, question why Stiles was on the field. You looked for the number 24 to find that Stiles actually was on the field and was starting to play.
By the end of the game, your voice was gone from all the cheering you did. Stiles scored so many goals as well as the final, winning goal. 
The excitement was cut short when the lights go out and chaos surrounds you. You follow the Sheriff down to the field and find Jackson bleeding out on the field.
You turn towards the Sheriff to find him looking for something, or someone. It doesn't take you long to figure out what's wrong.
"Where's Stiles? Where the hell is my son?" you hear the Sheriff call out before you start to dissociate. You just knew that Gerard took Stiles and you had no way of helping to get him back.
Everyone was looking for Stiles, including the Pack. You weren't much help with the state you were in, so you joined the Sheriff at his home.
"We're going to find him Y/n, I know we will," Mr Stilinski tried soothing you as well as himself. He sat next to you on Stiles' bed and gave you a tight hug, telling you, "You really should go home and rest, I'll call you if we find anything out."
"I can't possibly rest while Stiles is out there, god knows where," you start crying. This would be one of the few times you actually wished you were a werewolf so you could be useful and out looking for him.
"Why don't you stay here and I'll get you something to eat. I know you haven't eaten since before the game yesterday," Mr. Stilinski offered. You silently nodded your head before settling into Stiles pillows. You don't remember falling asleep.
Stiles POV
Gerard let me go. When I finally got home and hugged my dad, I had to lie to him about what happened, telling him some punks beat me up. Gerard really got to me, I felt insecure and useless, not that I could tell my father this.
When my dad and I calmed down a bit more, he told me about Y/n.
"I think she was more worried than I was, if that's possible," he told me.
"Is she okay?" I asked, concerned. I felt even worse that I had worried her.
"She's okay. Hasn't eaten in awhile but she fell asleep on your bed. You should let her sleep," he sighed. He gave me one final hug before making calls to the sheriff office to tell them what happened.
I decided to go up to see Y/n. Quietly making my way into my room, I saw her laying peacefully in-between my blankets. She looked so beautiful laying there. I sat on the bed next to her, softly stroking her hair knowing it calmed her down.
Your POV
You woke up to the feeling of someone playing with your hair. It felt so nice, that you almost went back to sleep but quickly got up realizing who was near. Upon seeing Stiles, you immediately wrapped him in a hug so quick and tight he fell back on the bed from the impact.
"You're okay! Oh my god, you're okay," you cried. You hugged him in silence, him stroking your back before he decided to say something.
"So I heard you were worried about me," he awkwardly joked.
You let go of him, slapping his arm, "Of course I was worried about you, how could I not."
It was then that you saw his face, or more importantly the scratches on his cheek.
"What the hell happened?" you questioned, holding his face still so you could properly examine his cheek.
"Gerard kicked the shit out of me, no big deal," he softly responded.
"It's a big deal to me Stiles," you whispered. "I hate seeing you hurt."
"If it makes you feel better, it only hurts when I smile," he then smiled, before wincing.
"Now is not a time for jokes, Stiles. I really missed you," you confessed.
He softly grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him, "Well I'm right here, it's okay."
You were so close to his face that you felt his breath on your cheeks. You looked at his lips before quickly averting your gaze to your lap.
Stiles let out a shaky breath before taking a hold of your hands. He stared lovingly at you, building the courage to finally kiss you after all these years.
He found the courage when you finally looked back up at him. You were surprised to feel soft lips on yours, stealing your breath. Kissing Stiles was dizzying. It was a good thing that he grabbed your waste or else you would have fallen over.
When the kiss was over you whispered, "What was that for?"
"I've been in love with you forever," He nervously replied, almost too quick for you to hear. But you did.
You giggled at him before giving him a big kiss on his unhurt cheek, "Good, me too."
Stiles just smiled at you like a dork. Your dork. You couldn't wait for all the laughs that were sure to come your way while being with Stiles.
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murdrdocs · 6 months
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how do you think stiles would react if you just broke down sobbing in the middle of having sex? like uncontrollably and unexplainably
srry if this is a weird thought and feel free to ignore
this is not that weird and its very celeste as it turns out
instantly, he's stopping. no matter what stage (?) you're at, no matter if he's kissing you or if he's in you. he's pulling out, holding your face, gently encouraging you to open your eyes and look at him. his voice gets soft and loses any previous edge, his eyes focus solely on every minute detail that makes up your frame.
he gives you a few minutes, lets you cry it out or slow it down if you need to, before he asks what's wrong. and if it's a bad cry, he'll take the condom off throw it out, and pull you into his chest. skin to skin contact, stroking your back and shoulder in a romantic, nonsexual way. if skin to skin is too much, he'll help you cover up and he'll cover himself up and you two will just sit there, silence except your sniffles and sobs and stiles' encouragement to let it out.
if it's a good cry, one of those 'it all feels so good that it's cathartic' cries, stiles is giggling cutely. "you scared me, honey," as he's kissing your hairline and stroking the side of your neck. he proceeds to smother you in kisses, gathering the salty water on his lips while he does so, only to transfer it to your lips when he practically suffocates you with how hard he kisses you.
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stilinskibaby · 2 months
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PAIRING : stiles x reader
CONTENT : fluff
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stiles falls asleep the best when his head on your chest. it's a well-known fact, that stiles has insomnia and trouble getting comfortable. but once his head is on your chest, your steady heartbeat becoming his favorite lullaby. it's moments before you hear his breathing settle, and it brings the tiniest smile to your face. you are the only sleeping medication that works for him.
on the worse nights where it takes him a bit longer to fall asleep, he fidgets a little more, half asleep murmurs. when he finally fully passes out, his fingers grasp the hem of your shirt, almost as if he's scared you'll disappear if he isn't actively looking at you.
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