addicted | void!stiles
word count; 10,491
summary; you’re the good girl, he’s the bad boy, and you just happen to be in love with one another. all in secret, of course.
notes; this is honestly just more bad-boy stiles than it is void. go ahead and enjoy.
warnings; smut, drug use, reference to underage drinking, reference to smoking, unprotected sex.
You knew it was wrong, you both did, and yet as his hands squeezed roughly at your thighs, your legs wrapped around his waist and lips meshing together, you couldn’t bring yourself to care, because it was so good.
The taste of tobacco on his tongue, dulled by the minty gum he had chewed before kissing you, was something you’d grown to crave. The way his teeth would nibble on your lower lip, or your jaw, or your collarbone, leaving purple marks and stinging bruises in his wakes was something that drove you crazy. The way large and rough palms would skim over your skin was something that made you shiver, as everything within you burned with need.
You were a company heiress, topping all of your classes and set to go to the finest of universities, before coming home to inherit a multi-million dollar company. You didn’t skip class, you didn’t break the rules, you were home before curfew, and you did your homework.
Stiles Stilinski was a leather-jacket wearing, cigarette smoking, deadbeat. He got in fights, and you’d never seen him without some kind of wound. He had scars, and a temper, one hell of an attitude, and he never attended classes. He was barely making it through, he faced expulsion on the daily, and only ever got away with staying in because his dad was a cop, who seemingly turned a blind eye to his son’s borderline illegal activities.
You were polar opposites, and yet the saying ‘opposites attract’ had never sung a more true tune than when used to describe the two of you. Like black and white, north and south, yin and yang; the pair of you fit together perfectly. His waist between your thighs, your legs wrapped around him as he gripped onto soft flesh with a touch that was both bruising and delicate, your hands in his hair and his tongue in your mouth, and everything just worked.
“You taste like strawberries.” He mumbled, pulling back and swiping his tongue over your lower lip, a glint in his eye as he took in your flushed cheeks and kiss-bitten mouth. You rubbed your lips together humming under your breath.
“Strawberry flavoured lip balm.”
He grinned, taking your lower lip between his, and sucking on it lightly. His tongue swept over it once again, your noses bumping and eyes fluttering shut as his forehead rested against yours, and his teeth dragged against your lip lightly as he let it go. “I like it.”
“I bought it just for you.”
He chuckled, using his hands to pull you closer to him, moving to dip his mouth back down to meet yours, when the overhead bell sounded, alerting you that it was time for the next class. He groaned, his lips barely brushing yours as you stiffened in his hold. “Skip one class? Stay with me, I’ll fuck you so good, make it worth it.”
You grinned at his bribery, but he already knew it was useless, your legs unwinding from around his waist as he stepped back. His hands were skittering up to your hips to lift you down from the janitor’s trolley he had seated you, on only a second after he’d tugged you into the supply closet, for one of your secret rendezvous. You pecked his lips, using your fingers to smooth down his hair, a chuckle on his lips as he wiped a thumb across your upper lip to clear the smudged lip balm that was shining on your skin, and he winked as he sucked the pad into his mouth to clean in.
The sounds of people buzzing by to get to classes was all you could hear, and you smoothed down your skirt, straightening out the pale pink blazer you wore and he watched you fondly, before cupping your cheek with one large palm and pulling your lips up to his. He pressed a series of pecks to your lips, a smile on your face making it hard for him to continue and he sighed, moving away from you to open the door. He peered out of the small gap, just a crack made, checking that it was clear for the two of you to leave without being spotted together.
Your hand landed on his wrist, pulling his attention back to you. “At seven tonight, I will have ordered a pizza, and those potato twist things you like-”
“Curly fries.”
“Yes, those. I’ll leave the window open, and if you get there on time, maybe there’ll be some food left for you.” He chuckled at your threat, bumping the tip of his nose against your own. He mumbled his promise to be there against your lips, a final stolen peck, before he was gone from the closet, ruffling a hand through his hair as he disappeared into the sea of people. Scooping up your bag, you gave it a couple of minutes, calming your racing heart and trying to contain the smile on your lips as you ducked out of the hideaway, making your way or your maths class with a slight pep in your step.
At exactly ten minutes past seven, a body tumbled in through your bedroom window, a leaf in his hair from his ascent of the tree in your garden that came close to your bedroom window. He lay out across the carpet for a moment, his eyes flicking to you as he watched you take a bite of the large slice of cheesy pizza in your hands.
“You started without me?”
“I said seven.” You mumbled, licking over your lower lip to clean any sauce that may have smeared there. Stiles grinned, kicking off his shoes and slowly making his way towards you, one foot still on the floor as he placed a knee on the edge of the bed, your head tilting up to look at him. Pouting your lips, he leaned down toward you, swerving at the last moment and taking a large bite of your pizza slice, before pulling away and taking in the incredulous look on your face. Chewing the mouthful happily, you pouted at him, brows furrowed. “Oh, so you don’t want my kisses? Well, that's just fine, then-”
He cut off your ramble by taking your face in his hand, thumb on one side of your jaw with his index finger on the other, pulling your lips up to his, and he paused his chewing to press a long kiss to your lips, effectively silencing you. Your body went weak, almost dropping the slice still clutched in your hold as you raised your free hand to sit on his cheek, and the hum in his throat as he pulled back from you was that of satisfaction, shooting you a wink before he was sitting down and finishing his bite of pizza.
“Well, alrighty, then.” You whispered, lips tingling as you lifted the pizza back up to your mouth, eating it quietly as you watched him open up the cardboard food boxes spread out across the bed. A large pizza, steaming and hot was revealed to him, only one slice gone, and he let out a small groan at the sight. Two boxes of curly fries sat beside them, and he raised his brows, looking up at them.
“You got two boxes?
“I know how much you eat, if I wanted any at all, two boxes were necessary.” You teased, and he laughed, taking a handful of them and stuffing them into his mouth, the potato treats hanging from his lips as he chewed. You only grimaced at him, watching as he messed up the pillows on your bed so that he could lounge among them. “You’re disgusting.”
“And yet, you’re still going to fuck me once we’re finished eating.”
You stuck your tongue out at him, leaning over to take an appropriate amount of the curly fries, letting them sit in the middle of your hand as you nibbled on them delicately. He watched as you did, before he was stuffing another handful into his mouth. Soft music played through the room, all of your favourite songs that he had complained about so much at first, but had eventually stopped, and you never commented on the way his foot sometimes tapped when certain songs played.
It didn’t take you long to eat, chatter and sweet kisses being shared, before you were kicking the boxes onto the floor to be picked up later. Leaning down into the bag the food had been delivered in and you plucked out a napkin, a scoff on the man’s lips as he looked at you. “You’re so fuckin’ upper class, sweetheart.”
You frowned, wiping your fingers carefully as he looked at you, rubbing his own greasy fingers together as they shined in the light. “Because I use a napkin to clean my fingers?”
“Exactly. I normally just wipe my fingers on my jeans.” He mumbled, and your eyes widened as he moved to do exactly that, your head shaking as you took his hand, and he smirked wickedly. “Not my jeans? I could always just wipe pizza sauce on your nice, clean bedsheets?”
“No!” You narrowed your eyes at him, reaching for the napkin behind you and he laughed loudly, sucking his fingers into his mouth to clean them.
“I might be a degenerate but I’m not total filth, sweetheart.”
You deadpanned, picking up his other hands and shooting him a cheeky look. Straddling his waist carefully and placing his index finger into your mouth, the pad lay flat on the tip of your tongue, and his jaw dropped. Sucking lightly once your lips had closed around his finger, he let out a rush of breath, moaning brokenly under his breath as your tongue cleaned his finger.
“Oh, I like it so much better when you do it.” He eased a second finger into your mouth, your lips wrapping around them and you smirked as best you could with your mouth full, before releasing his fingers. You continued to lick the others clean, and the second you’d finished, he was grasping onto you, flipping the two of you over as his hips rolled down into yours. Your back arched up, a whine slipping from your lips and he pressed his lips to yours, mumbling for you to be quiet.
Lips meshed together, dragging in needy and sloppy rhythms, and he nibbled on your lower lip, grunting when you so easily parted them for him to create a heated connection. One hand held him up, the other moving slowly along your side, before tucking under the edge of your t-shirt, sitting on your heated skin with nothing to block it. He groaned lowly, your legs coming up, bending so that your feet could sit flat on the bed and he could settle between your thighs.
“Are your parents home?”
“Yeah.” You mumbled, and he pulled back from your mouth for long enough to lift your t-shirt up and over your head, practically beaming when your breasts fell free before him, bra discarded the moment you had gotten home from school.
“Well, then, you’re just going to have to keep quiet for me, aren’t you?” He smirked, peeling his shirt up and over his head. You sat up, enough to run your hands over his chest, fingers trailing the occasional scar that was on his skin, from fights and falls, all the activities you were so disapproving of but all the ones that made him who he was. He knelt between your legs, leaning over you, and your fingers moved down to his jeans, popping the button open and dragging the zipper down. His jeans were hanging loose, and he slipped his fingers down to take your hands, pushing you back on the bed and pinning them over your head. “Keep these up.”
Kissing his way down your body, his lips closed over one of your nipples, and you bit down on your lower lip to contain the moan you wanted to release as the rough top of his tongue soothed over the bud, his teeth digging into the flesh around it when he sucked firmly, and you whimpered under your breath, bringing one hand down to cover your mouth and he chuckled into your skin, before switching his attention to the other side of your chest.
Wet trails covered your skin, a cool breeze sweeping over your body when he continued to lower his kisses along your body, his tongue circling your navel and he looked up to you. Your head was pushed back into the cushions, mouth covered by your hand and eyes closed, your brows furrowed as your slick and exposed chest rose and fell in rapid pants, anticipating what was to come.
His fingers hooked into the edges of your shorts, pulling them down slowly, and he pressed a kiss to the inside of his thighs to muffle his moan, nipping at the flesh teasingly as your legs trembled.
“No panties, either? You should have told me when I arrived, I would’ve been eating something other than pizza.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” You hummed, and he discarded the fabric, diving in to lick a stripe from your core to your clit, and your hand slapped back over your mouth to hide the moan you let loose. He repeated the motion, settling himself on his stomach and lifting your legs over his shoulders, your thighs clamping around his head as he worked on your centre.
He dragged his tongue slowly over your bundle of nerves, driving you crazy as he stimulated the bud, before wrapping his lips around it and sucking harshly. The way that hips jumped up at the sudden feeling was beyond your control, but it made him growl against you, pressing a hand flat to your stomach and pushing your hips down into the mattress. The fingers of your free hand clenched in the sheets, scrunching them up and dragging them towards you as you tried to steady yourself.
Lowering down further, his tongue circled your entrance, teasing you in a way you were more than familiar with. A wet tongue pushed into you, slowly and dragged along your walls, lapping up every drop you had to give, and your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling. The tip of his nose nudged against your clit, and you let out a sob into your hand, lifting the other to thread into his hair, tugging on the strands, and he groaned, pulling away from you and wiping at his cheeks, his brows raised.
“I thought I told you to keep your hands up above your head?”
Your hands fell away, your chest heaving as he stood up, and you whined, rubbing your thighs together in search of friction. Slipping your hand down between them to rub at the neglected bud needily, trying to bring yourself to the peak you had been building toward before he had pulled away. Pushing his jeans down, they pooled around his ankles, his boxers following as he kicked them away from his feet and you felt your eyes go half-lidded as you watched his cock bounce up, dripping wet and throbbing as he pumped himself.
“Part your legs for me, pretty girl. Let me watch you.”
Without hesitation, your legs fell apart, and he grunted, squeezing at his shaft in a tighter grip as you dipped two fingers into yourself. It was slow to start, pumping and scissoring them, stretching yourself wide before his sights, his eyes blown wide with lust, dark with arousal and his jaw hung open.
“On your hands and knees. Keep going.”
He took a step closer to you, and you flipped yourself over, plunging your fingers back to where you needed them most and burying them down to the knuckle. Your core was clenching around your own digits as you set a rapid pace, pumping them in and out of yourself quickly. He fisted at his cock, hips rocking up into his hand, and he reached out with the other one, palming at a handful of your ass before placing a harsh slap to your skin. The sound bounced around the room, and you buried your face into the cushions to muffle the whine you made, a drawn-out moan of his name when he repeated it on the other side.
Your skin was stinging, the air in the room hazy and he reached an arm around you, pulling your fingers from within yourself as his cock slid through your folds from behind, nudging against your swollen slit as your body jerked at the stimulation. He lifted your hand up and over your shoulder, sucking them into his mouth and cleaning them of your juices, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek when he let them go.
“I need you.”
Your words were panted out, and he hummed from where he was nuzzling into the side of your head. “Face down, ass up.”
He nudged you forward and you happily fell down, catching yourself on your hands and folding your arms under a pillow, your face burying in it. He leaned over you, a hand tangling in your hair, fingernails scraping against your scalp soothingly. He pressed kisses along your spine, lining himself up and sinking forward into your slick heat as your body shuddered under his hold.
“Such a good girl for me. Always my good, little slut.” He ran his hands over your arms, underneath to squeeze at your tits as his chest met your back, sitting still within you as he gave you a chance to adjust to his considerable length and size. “You’re so perfect, and look at you now. Begging for my cock, letting a bad boy ruin you. On your hands and knees, ass in the air and glowing red with my handprints, you’re a fucking angel.”
“Does that make you the devil?” Your cheek pressed to the pillow as you tilted your head to the side to speak to him, his chuckle echoing around the room as he pulled back, his hands moving to sit on your hips.
“You bet this sweet little ass it does.”
He pinched the right cheek, your body jolting and he pulled back to tease you, barely within your walls anymore before he was snapping back into you. He was filling you to the brim, tapping at your cervix, a groan falling from him and you barely had a chance to turn your head again before a scream of his name was leaving your lips. His fingers flexed on your hips, getting a better grip - a place where you both knew there would be fingerprints in the morning that only you and he knew about - and he was setting a fast and punishing pace as he buried himself within your sopping warmth.
Every drag of his cock against your walls, every time he pulled himself out of you was delicious, every throb of his cock within you resonating along your body as he filled and pushed against every ridge and dip within your slick walls, as though the two of you had been made for one another.
You pushed your hips back into him, trying to meet his rapid thrusts, your movements nowhere near as close but each time your skin collided your eyes rolled back. The thrusts he delivered were bordering on godlike speeds, and you wished this was one of the times you could see him, look back and admire the fucked-out look he always got on his face when he was buried within you, cock pressing to all the places that made you shake and scream. You wished you could be loud, and call out his name the way you wanted to.
“You’re so fucking tight. Always so tight for me.”
You mumbled a response, words muffled by the cushion under you and he swooped down, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you back and changing the angle, letting you squeeze around him even more as you let out a deep breath as a moan into your ear. “Just for you, baby.” You whispered, and he kissed across your shoulder, biting down on the curve between your collarbone and your arm, your head rolling back.
“You’re so fucking good for me.”
“No, I’m bad for you.” You joked, panting out the words and his hips stuttered, pace slowing just slightly as he lifted one hand to your jaw, tipping your head to the side, your eyes connecting as he looked down at you.
“That’s so fucking hot.” He pressed his mouth to yours, wet and hot kisses that were hurried and frantic, tongues tangling in sloppy exchanges as you silenced one another’s moans and pleas. His hand slipped down from your jaw and along your body, pressing to your slick bundle of nerves between your legs and rubbing quick and steady circles onto it. Your eyes squeezed shut, and you grasped into his forearm, the only thing holding you steady as his mouth worked with yours in frenzied kisses, your hips shaking in his touch. “Come for me, sweetheart.”
His words were mumbled into your mouth, and you nibbled on his lower lip, lifting your other hand to pull his face back down to yours and he happily let your mouths meet, the movements of his hips starting to get sloppy. The fire in your stomach was burning you up from the inside out, and your lips were barely moving at this point, letting him do all the work as he concealed the noises you made.
Your bed frame was shaking, not quite reaching the wall from where you had pulled it far enough away when you raised this would be a regular thing, but the mattress was squeaking and you could hear your family walking up and down the corridors, muffled voices from behind the door to your bedroom. The thought that they could know, they could see the boy you were willing to let ruin your reputation while he was buried so deep within you had your juices dripping from you, the insides of your thighs slick as you fell over the edge into pure and unadulterated bliss.
The hand around your waist came up to cover your mouth as you screamed out his name, your body quivering in his hold as he fucked into you, pressing his face into your neck as a series of your name in mumbles and prayers about your ‘tight cunt’ spilt from him. Your walls clamped around him, so firmly that he could barely move, and the two of you toppling forwards onto the bed, the jerky movements only prolonging your high as you sobbed into his palm, still covering your mouth as he let out breathy moans above you.
The moment you had come down from your high, he was pulling out of you, his hand moving over himself only twice, the other hand cupping his balls and squeezing lightly to spill across your back. Ropes of thick, hot cum splattered over your skin, his head falling back and lip pulled so tightly between his teeth that you thought he may bite through it, as he tried to silence himself.
He pumped out everything he had to give, before flopping down onto the bed beside you, him on his back and you on your stomach as your eyes remained closed. Taking deep and steady breaths as you tried to calm yourself, your body sweaty and overheated, flushed as you still twitched from the earth-shattering orgasm you’d just had.
“Don’t tell me you fell asleep. That would really bruise my ego.”
His fingers raised to brush along your spine, and your eyes fluttered open, a smile on your lips as you took in his thoroughly satisfied expression. “As much as your ego does need to be checked, I couldn’t possibly fall asleep, not with how good you always make me feel.”
He dragged himself up, a pained groan on his lips from the exhaustion and he fished about in the food bag for more napkins, wiping your skin clean and dropping them into the trash bin in the corner, and you happily rolled over onto your back. Tugging his boxers up his legs, he fished around in his jeans pocket for the box of cigarettes he kept there, taking a match from the box that sat beside the candles you lit when you wanted some ambience.
Sparking it up, he let the roll hang from his lips, lighting a few of your candles before waving his hand, the match going out. Pushing up the windowpane, he positioned himself across it, one leg bent as he sat on the windowsill, and the other placed on your bedroom floor, his back on the wall as he raised his hand to pull the cig from his lips, blowing the smoke out into the cold night air.
A breeze swept over your body, and you shivered, grumbling under your breath and pushing yourself up from the bed. Pulling on your shorts and your t-shirt once again, you made your way across the room to your closet, selecting a large black hoodie. “That’s mine, y’know.”
“I’m well aware.” You retorted, pushing your hands through the sleeves and letting it fall to your mid-thighs, swamping the shorts you wore, and he switched hands he was using to smoke, reaching out to you with his free one, tapping ash away to fall to the grass below with the other.
You moved towards him, letting his arm wrap around your waist and you lifted a hand to thread into his hair, weaving through and he let out a content sound at the feeling.
He was wrapped up in his thoughts, a frown on his face, and you had no idea what he was thinking, but his thoughts were plaguing him.
Stiles knew he was getting too comfortable. He liked the smell of your perfume and he liked the sound of his name on your lips, and he loved the way you fitted into his life perfectly. With you, everything felt like puzzle pieces coming together. He’d seen the college letters sitting on your desk when he’d thrown away the tissues, and he was no stranger to the size of your house in a well-faring estate; he spent enough time scaling trees to secretly see you at night to know the properties well. You weren’t meant for a life with him, and he already knew he was in too deep, but you were like an addiction, and he couldn’t get away from you, the chains were too heavy for him to break now. You didn’t even know the power you had over him, or the torture you inadvertently inflicted.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Just about how pretty you look wearing my clothes.” He teased, and a blush rose to your cheeks, but you shook your head at him, flicking the tip of his nose gently.
“It’s not reassuring to know you were thinking about that while looking like you wanted to throw yourself out of this window, but okay, honey.” You moved to walk away, and he tightened his arm around you, taking a final drag of his cig before stubbing it out on the wall, blowing away the smoke and letting the stub sit in the crack on your windowsill, hidden from view, before he was following you back inside. Sliding the window shut, he dipped his head, pecking your lips sweetly. “I have homework to do.”
“You want me to leave?”
“No, but I just thought you should know in case that made you want to leave.” You reached up to play with the strings on the hoodie, and he smiled down at you.
“I don’t mind, I’ll just scroll Wikipedia on your laptop and fulfil my innate need to know how snails evolved.” You snorted a laugh, the deeply buried nerd within him rearing his head, only ever when he was with you. As he passed it by, he grabbed your laptop from your desk, settling himself on your bed, sitting up among your cushions comfortably as you spread your books out around yourself.
Without thinking about it, your hands met across the covers, his other typing at the keyboard, your other holding a pen as you read over your books, and neither of you really thought about the small act of affection, instead choosing to just let the night drift onwards.
Your routine was much the same as the weeks passed, over a year of your secret arrangement having gone on already, and graduation was quickly closing in on the two of you. Cheeky winks and smiles in the halls between classes, inadvertently being partnered up for projects and assignments, and sneaky meetings when you could steal a moment to be together.
Your schedule had rapidly filled up, your time with Stiles being dwindled as you spent more time at college interviews and typing out essays than you did with him between your thighs and his lips on yours. He’d started coming to your study sessions at the local library on Thursday nights, cornering you and pinning you to the shelves each time you went to get a new book, kisses exchanged between giggles and smiles, as you made sure nobody would see you.
You purposefully made sure you weren’t available at all on Fridays, because that meant you could have a few hours free on a Saturday night, and he would always be there right on time to see you between sessions with your tutor and reviews of your studies with your mother, to make the most of every bit of free time you could get.
Now, though, you were in the clear. You’d made sure your entire night was free, as well as tomorrow morning. You’d been on the road for the entire day, from a high-ranking college across the country and you wanted to surprise the man you cared so much for. The second your mother had parked the car, you had excused yourself with the vague idea that you were attending a late-night study session and may stay over at a friend’s house.
The look on Stiles’ face when he opened up the door to you was priceless, and you offered him a dazzling grin as he gaped at you.
“What are you doing here? Did you walk here alone?” He looked out of the door, glancing up and down the street before pulling you inside, clicking the lock back on his door. You gave a giggle at his reaction, before hanging up your bag on the coat hooks on the wall beside the door. Undoing the knot on the front of your coat, you hung that up to, and he let out a sigh of defeat as he saw that you were here to stay.
“Do you not want to see me? I can leave.” You leaned up to peck his lips, not giving him a chance to respond before you pulled back, fixing him with a smirk, a glint in your eye as you poked him in the stomach, his body squirming and a smile breaking out on his face as he took your hands in his. “Oh, I know, is that you have another girl here? Side bitch? Or am I the side bitch.”
“You’re my main bitch. The one and only.”
“Well, thank you very much.” Your voice was dripping with sarcasm, and his eyes rolled, before he was using his grip on your hands to pull you closer to him. Your lips met in a heated kiss, a sweet moan slipping from you. His grip moved, hooking your hands around his neck before he was placing his own on your waist, and his nose bumped against yours as it tipped to the side. This time, you took the initiative, nibbling on his lower lip, and he let out a chuckle.
“You have my number, you know? You could have texted, I would have come over.”
You hummed into his mouth, running your hands down his chest and scratching lightly at the taut muscles under the thin fabric of his t-shirt. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Consider me surprised.”
His voice was shaky, and you pulled back, eyes snapping open to look at him. Your brows raised and lips pursed, and he ducked his head to press another kiss to your lips but you leaned back, just enough to avoid him. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”
He let out a deep sigh, tucking some hair behind your ears and letting his gaze drop from yours. “No, sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just that I never really expected to have you over here, I don’t think it’s really somewhere you want to be.”
“What does that mean?”
He looked over his shoulder, running a hand through his hair, before moving to his chest to take one of yours. Your fingers tangled together and he played with them nervously. “Your bedroom is bigger than my living room and kitchen combined. Here, it’s messy and dirty, and there’s some broken furniture. I live in a bad neighbourhood, I’m surprised you made it here without getting any unwanted company. It just doesn’t seem like your scene.”
You placed your other hand on his cheek, lifting his eyes to yours, a shameful expression painted on his face. “I don’t care about that stuff, I just wanted to see you. It’s been weeks since we got to spend any time together, almost two months, I missed you.” He mumbled his ‘I missed you too’ into your mouth as you rolled up on your tiptoes to press your mouths together, tongues tangling immediately as lips parted the second they met. “I’m wearing the thong you say is too naughty for a girl like me to own. Just for you.”
He gripped your hips, turning you around and guiding you through his house, your feet stumbling from the speed in which he pushed you along, navigating you through the small, one floored home, and you laughed against his lips, pushing on his chest.
“What’s the rush? We have all night.” You looked around the living room you were in, a small smile on your lips, and before he could stop you, you were wandering away from him, crossing the small room. The hand he ran over his face muffled the groan he let out, following it with a deep sigh.
“We don’t have to stay in here, my room is-”
“I like it.” His brows rose, and you turned back to him, nibbling on your lower lip to contain your smile, and he took a tentative step towards you. “I think it’s sweet, and homey. It’s cosy, and that’s something you don’t get a lot of in a house with a colour theme based on something from the 17th century and stone walls.”
“You have a fireplace in your bedroom.”
“I have never once used it. In fact, I hate it.” He shook his head fondly, before making his way over to you, a hand cupping your jaw, fingers resting over your neck, thumb smoothing over your cheek.
“You’re so fucking cute.” His words were whispered against your lips, barely brushing them with yours as the breath shared between you both.
“Your dad on the night shift?”
“Yeah?”
“We’ve never fucked on a couch before.” Your voice was teasing, and he hummed, deep in his chest as he backed you up until your legs hit the cushions, and he could lay you down against it.
“You know, I think you’re right. We should change that.” With that, his mouth descended upon yours, hot and needy as he kissed you deeply, his body pressing to yours as you lay back in the cushions. Trailing his mouth along your jaw, he nipped at your skin, sucking lightly but being sure not to leave a mark. Pushing him back by his shoulders, you straddled him with a leg on either side of his, grinding your core down into his sweatpants-covered cock, your skirt bunching up around your waist.
His hands found the bottom of your jumper, tugging it up until it was pushed over your head, your breasts swelling in the push-up bra that matched your thong. The sound he met out sent heat pooling straight to your core, before he was leaning forwards to kiss along your chest. He sucked a large lovebite into the skin of your right breast, his teeth nipping and tongue soothing over it until he was certain that a large purple mark would flourish there in the morning.
Your head tipped back, hips rolling down into his and his own bucked back up into you, returning it as his hands gripped your hips, a loud moan slipping from your lips. “I’ve missed hearing you screaming my name, I hate when you have to be quiet.” He mumbled l, and you looked back at him, taking his cheeks in your hand and pulling his lips to yours. You pressed a series of quick kisses to his lips, before standing up, ignoring his whine and pulling him up to his feet, as reluctant as he was. “I thought we were going to fuck on the couch?”
“We are, but I- um..”
He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, burning gaze on you as you blushed under his touch, and he smirked at the innocent look on your face. “You what? Hm? Tell me what you want, baby.”
“I want to suck your cock.”
His breath was forced from his lungs, his eyebrows practically in his hairline and you grinned, tugging on the material at the bottom of his shirt. When he snapped back into action, he reached a hand behind his head and tugged the t-shirt from his body, dropping it to the floor so that your hands could smooth over the flat planes of his chest, pale skin hot under your fingers, muscles twitching under your touch. “I love it when you talk dirty to me, sweetheart. It makes me want to absolutely ruin you.”
“So do it, just fuck my mouth first.” He groaned out under his breath, skating his hands up and along your back, expertly twisting open the strap on your bra and dragging it away. Your fingers worked on the loose knot tied on the front of his sweatpants as his own hands unzipped your skirt, the material falling away around your feet and you kicked it away from yourself.
Sinking to your knees, you took his sweats with you, his cock popping up and into your face. Directed straight forwards, bobbing as he dripped with precum, the skin was red and swollen as he hissed in the cool air of the house. “I love how you look on your knees for me.”
You grinned, taking his cock in your hands as Stiles watched you through half-lidded eyes, and you licked along the underside of his cock, keeping your gaze locked with his. He let out a stuttered moan as you dragged the flat of your tongue over the slit on his cock. Wrapping your lips around the head, you swiped your tongue along underneath, his knees buckling, legs shaking for a moment as you sucked, before sinking along his shaft.
Hollowing your cheeks for him, he groaned, both of his hands coming down to pull your hair back, fastening it away behind your head in a makeshift ponytail. His fingers weaved into the locks, tugging just enough to make your body spark with excitement, and he guided you in bobbing along his cock. “So fucking good, sweetheart. So good.”
You grinned around his length, tightening your cheeks even more and he let out a series of curses under his breath, his fingers digging into your scalp as he pushed you further down his length. The tip of his cock tapped the back of your throat, and you gagged around him, tears filling your eyes and he let you go but you held where you were, swallowing around him and taking him as deeply as you could until your nose was brushing the hairs at his base, making him let out a loud shout of your name as he hunched over.
He gasped, his body shaking and he pulled you back, letting you lick along his shaft and clean him up until his skin was slick with spit and you were looking up at him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, eyes shining with unshed tears. He took a deep breath as he looked at you, “Get up here and ride me.”
His voice was deep and raspy, and he was still panting, watching as you stood to your feet, slipping off the simple shoes you wore and turning around, wiggling your ass for him as your fingers hooked into the sides of your thong. He kissed along your shoulder, his hands gripping your ass and you pulled down your underwear, dropping the final garment to the ground and he cursed, spinning you around and pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he was bolting away.
Your eyebrows cinched together, jaw dropping, but he was returning a moment later, holding his cock in hand and rolling a condom down onto himself, a moan on his lips as he squeezed himself at his base. “I really want to come inside you, it’s been a long time.”
He flopped back onto the couch, reaching out for you with needy hands and you followed after him. Kneeling above him and placing your hands on his shoulders, his tip was running through your dripping folds, before he was lining himself up with your needy and clenching hole. Sinking yourself onto him, both of your jaws hung slack, and he let out a long groan as you gave a breathy sigh, dropping down until you were filled entirely, his dick stretching you out perfectly as it sat snuggly between your walls.
When you were ready, you set off with rolling your hips into his, his hands sitting on your waist lightly, twitching by your sides as he tried not to take control, to let you have your moment.
His lips were working over your chest, sucking at your nipples and licking at your skin, making sure to leave your chest shiny and covered in pink and red blotches, the mark he’d left on the supple skin of your right breast earlier already beginning to grow dark in colour, and his eyes were fixed on the way your breasts were bouncing before his face.
“I love your tits, so fucking much.” His fingers trailed up, pinching and tweaking at your nipples, your back arching into his hands as he palmed at the soft flesh, and you slammed yourself down onto him harder, his hips bucking up to meet your own.
“I can feel you holding back.” He looked up at you, licking his lips as your head lowered, lips brushing his and he gasped as you licked along his upper lip, pressing a short kiss to his mouth. “You can fuck me, fuck me like you mean it.”
“Shit.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, flipping you over and you whined in discontent when his cock slipped from within you. Your back met the cushions of the couch, and he kicked off his sweatpants from where they were still wrapped around his ankles, before pushing your legs apart for him to settle between. He hooked one of your ankles over the back of the couch, the other foot falling to sit on the floor as your legs hung wide open for him, exposing your glistening core for his eyes only.
Leaning down, he licked a stripe along your core, before leaning over you, his mouth meeting yours as he slammed back into you to full depth, tapping your g-spot immediately, and you let out a shuddering breath. Your body arched up into him, and he pulled back just to slam forward, again and again, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. He was kneeling back, one hand on your knee as the other gripped your hip, and he cursed under his breath as he watched the place where his cock was slipping in and out of you.
Even through the condom, you could still feel every throb and pulse he made, and he was coated in your juices, sliding easily in and out of you, wet sounds emanating with every movement. “Fuck, I love your tight little pussy.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.” He dropped forwards, holding himself up above you as he kissed under your ear, panting into your neck and delivering you a particularly sharp thrust, your climax crashing down on you with a tidal wave of ecstasy as you came. Shaking and moaning, loudly, his name bounced around his home, echoing back to you as your hands raked tracks down his back.
He hissed at the touch, pressing up into it as the pain of your scratches only encouraged him onwards, and soon his body was shaking, arms unable to hold him up. He shouted and growled into your neck, going stiff in your arms for a second, before collapsing down onto you.
You took deep breaths, still for only a moment before you were scooting over, letting him roll onto the side between your body and the couch. You both arranged yourselves gently, until your back was to his chest, curled up on the couch with his arm around your waist. He kissed at your temple, and your hairline, and finally your cheek before he lay back, slumped into the couch as he let out a content sigh.
“That was fantastic.”
He laughed at your words, nodding in agreement, and groaning as you got up from the couch, his softening cock slipping from within you. After a second’s pause, he sat up himself, waddling away to the bathroom to remove the condom from his cock. When he returned, you had pulled on your thong, and you were wearing his shirt, to which he gave you a small grin at the sight, tugging his sweatpants back up his legs as he settled down on the couch.
You picked up your phone, opening the food app you had downloaded for deliveries, and waving the screen at him. “We should order some food.”
“Places still open this late won’t deliver here at this hour.” His voice was hesitant, and your brows furrowed, a scowl on his face as his hands crossed over his stomach. You shook your head, mumbling your argument in an insistence that you would find somewhere, and silence fell between you both. It was ten minutes before you eventually gave up, and placed your phone down, choosing to sit beside him as he avoided your eye. “I fucking told you.”
“Okay, okay, I was wrong.” He didn’t look up at you, even with your teasing voice, and you let out a sigh, picking up one of his hands and playing with his fingers. “Maybe we can just walk somewhere and pick it-”
“You don’t walk anywhere in this neighbourhood at this time of night! Even I’m not that stupid.” He snapped, and your tracing patterns onto the back of his hand stopped, your brows furrowing as you looked at him.
“What is your problem? We were great a few minutes ago. What did I do?”
“You came here!” He stood up from his seat, running a hand through his hair and walking away to the kitchen. Taking a beer from the fridge and hooking it onto the metal edge of his counter, he knocked the cap off of it and took a deep swig of the liquid inside, his back turned to you as you entered the room.
“You said it was fine!”
“What the fuck was I supposed to say, when you were standing there, already taking your coat off?” He growled under his breath, and you swallowed thickly. “Look around, your fucking coat closet is bigger than my entire kitchen! You have a bathroom attached to your bedroom, your house has a pool, for fuck’s sake!”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You shouldn’t be here!” He screamed, his eyes wide and furious and you flinched back at the raised voice he gave you. “You shouldn’t be with me! Why can’t you fucking see that? You’re going to traipse off to some fancy, expensive college that makes you the perfect boss for when you inherit the family business, and all the millions. You can’t even be seen with me in public, because it’ll destroy your reputation and your family's connections! I’m going nowhere, I’m going to be nothing, I’m going to have nothing for my entire life! I’m going to die as a fucking nobody! You’re going to be something, do something with your damn life!”
“That doesn’t mean-” You were cut off once again, your jaw snapping shut as he shouted at you once again.
“We shouldn’t even be a fucking thing!”
You paused, a cold feeling that makes everything feel wrong, and you choked down the emotional lump in your throat. “You don’t think we should be together?”
“Now you’re catching on, thank God!” You tried to stay strong as he looked at you with an expression that could only be read as ‘duh’, and you nodded, backing out of the kitchen. Your eyes were directed down, refusing to let him see you in this state, spinning on your heel and making your way back through to the living room. Swiping up your skirt with shaky hands, you guided it up your legs, zipping it up and tucking your shirt into it as you pulled on your shoes. Tugging your jumper over your head, you snatched up your bra, running a hand through your hair as he came into the room, sighing over dramatically as he looked at you. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going home.” You cursed at the way your voice cracked, pushing past him to the entrance of his home, stuffing your bra up into your bag. His fingers latched around your wrist, and you yanked it from his hold, turning your back on him as you struggled to pull your coat up your arms, tying it with trembling hands and backing away from him. “Don’t touch me.”
“Let me make sure you get home safe, at least.”
“I don’t need anything from you, I can take care of myself. I’m my own damn person! Why do you keep using my family as something to push me away? You could be everything, and you’re choosing to be nothing. You pushed me away, remember that when you calm down and sober up.” You wiped at your tears, his jaw gaping and you pushed him aside, swinging the door open and marching out into the cold night air.
You had barely made it down the street before you heard glass smash against the wall, a wet stain on the side of his house as his door slammed shut, the light that had been leaking out into the road going dark. You wrapped your arms around yourself, sniffling away your tears and confusion from what had just happened as you walked yourself home.
A week had gone past, and despite how much you’d wished he would come and talk to you once his mind cleared, he’d been doing his best to steer clear of you.
You spent the weekend sulking in your bedroom, not even bothering to open the emails you had received over the weekend or in response to your college interviews and applications. You ate junk food, and hid in your bedroom under your covers, and you considered dying your hair in a very late 90’s movie style post-breakup coping method, but ultimately decided against it.
Monday and Tuesday were spent hoping that he’d talk to you, that you’d get some kind of explanation or closure about his behaviour, and instead, you were shut out and left in the cold. You tried to speak to him, you made a very obvious attempt to hang out in all of the areas that the two of you had once had your previous meet-ups, and he purposefully made a very obvious attempt to not be there.
He made sure to take the most averted route to classes he possibly could, in the times he even bothered to attend, and he wouldn’t meet your eye on the times he did.
He sat far away, and sulked, and he had been getting in considerably more trouble than usual. He was mouthy, and brooding, and it was clear that he was suffering just as much as you were, and so you didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just talk to you.
By Wednesday, you were angry. You were angry about the way he’d cut things off, and you were moving through the five stages reasonably quickly, already having covered ‘denial’ and ‘bargaining’, and so now you were on ‘anger’. You passive-aggressively responded to all your texts, and you glared at the t-shirt you’d accidentally run from his house while wearing that night, that sat over the back of your chair.
You considered burning it, but decided against that too, opting for rom-com movies and an unhealthy amount of chocolate-covered popcorn instead.
Thursday was your breakthrough. You woke up feeling depressed, before sudden realisation struck you during third-period economics class, and you had perked up considerably. You spent that night ignoring your homework and the deadlines in favour of note-taking and research. You’d also taken a shower, finally breezing through your depression stage, washing it away into the drain and replacing it with shaved legs, styled hair and a very sweet-scented moisturiser as you made yourself feel good once again.
You felt bold and powerful come Friday morning, and you were the happiest you’d been all week as you tied Stiles’ shirt in a knot at the front and pulled your favourite pastel pink striped blazer up your arms, swiping up all your research and tucking the folded piece of paper with your best notes into the back pocket of your skirt. You were full of pep during your first two classes, waiting eagerly as the time ticked down through lunch, and all you wanted was for the afternoon classes to begin, because you knew that without fault that Stiles would be smoking behind the old gym block with the rest of the burnouts, as they discussed drugs and motorbikes and whatever is it his little wolf-pack of boys talked of while risking getting themselves detention or expulsion.
When the clock ticked twenty minutes until the bell to signal you back to classes would sound, you began your hunt, taking a deep breath and holding your head high. Your books were secured away in your locker as you made your way out across the main courtyard, stomping across the football field to your destination. You recognised the funky smell of weed and tobacco on the air before you’d even finished moving, and you could hear the loud laughs and revving of engines before you had rounded the corner.
The second you did, all the chatter fell quiet, many eyes on you, and yet the only pair you cared about was the whiskey-brown ones that were wide with shock as a cigarette hung from his lips. He panicked, standing up as though he was going to bolt, and yet he knew he couldn't because you were taking off in your walk towards him. You watched as his shoulders slumped, and he dropped the cig to the ground, stomping it out and swallowing thickly as he waited for you to approach.
You could hear the whispers and jokes around you, about the type of girl you were and why you were here. You knew that half of this leather-convention style gang dealt drugs, and made a particularly lucrative markup from those girls like you who wanted a quick rebellion phase and had a lot of money for some watered-down bud that would barely give them a high, and yet would make them feel like they had an ounce of freedom. You didn’t care about that, you had your rebellion, you had your high, and he wasn’t just a phase.
He opened his mouth as you came within earshot, fumbling for words and yet he didn’t get a chance to speak them before you were pushing up on your tiptoes, your body slamming into his as your lips met. His body fell back to lean against the wall behind him, supporting you both when his hands came to grip your hips, a rough sigh leaving him. You weren’t sure whether it was denial or shock, but it took him a second before he was kissing back, the two of you ignoring the hoots and hollers around you both as he returned the messy kiss with just as much vigour.
His hands gripped your hips, holding you to him steadily as he left deep kisses to your lips, ducking you backwards once he gained stability on his feet once again, and yours were flat on the floor as he leaned over you. Your arms were around his neck, fingers threading into his hair and pulling him closer to you.
The taste of tobacco and smoke spread to your mouth, the tangy flavour of the orange juice you’d had with your lunch mixed with it and it was the perfect combination of tastes between the two of you, a groan slipping into your mouth from his when you nibbled on his lower lip. You felt his hesitation, each time he pulled back for a split second, like he was trying to fight it, before he was diving back into you needily, your lips a drug that he couldn't get enough of.
“Woah, woah, wait. What are you doing? We aren’t-
“Together? Yeah, and that’s your fault. Because you’re stupid.” You stabbed a finger into his chest, panting as you backed away from him, your face flushing as you thought about your words and his eyes were wide, not even bothering to argue back as you went off on him. “You suck, do you know that? I never cared about us being together, I never gave a damn, I was happy with us the way we were, and you got yourself all worked up into a panic about reputations and stupid thoughts about how you wouldn’t be anything. Well, I call bullshit. I think you have potential. You could do great things if you’d just stop moping around in this ‘boo-hoo, woe is me’ attitude and just let me help-”
You squeaked as his fingers slipped into your hair, your mouth was pulled up to meet his, your eyes wide as his closed, and you could feel his smile pressing against your lips, even as he tried to kiss you. Sinking into the affections, your body went placid under him, your chest pressing to his as you leaned up, and his other arm slipped around your waist.
You bunched up his shirt under your hands from where they were trapped between your bodies, his fingers dipping down from your waist and into your back pocket, a surprised sound leaving him as he pulled back. Taking the piece of paper with him, he pulled it into view from where it was clasped between his fingers, and raised an eyebrow at you.
“You always stick your hand in my back pocket, that was the best way to get that to you.” You whispered, licking the taste of him from your lips.
“So we’re passing notes now?” He snickered, and you rolled your eyes, pulling back just enough for him to be able to read it, and he pecked your lips quickly before you did. Unfolding it, he shot you a quick look, before looking over the words on the page, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, sighing through his nose. “This is real nice, sweetheart, but we both know I don’t have the grades or the funding to get into any of these colleges.”
“The colleges are for me, the garages underneath are for you.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, grinning at him as you leaned back, and he only seemed more confused. “All of these are colleges I’ve been accepted into, and ones I’m considering, and all of those garages are places that take on apprenticeships in teaching mechanics and technology, even if you have no grades.”
“You did that for me?”
“No, give it back, I should go find another smoker with leather jackets and a bad-boy rep to fulfil my good-girl wet dreams. See you later.” You turned away from him, and he clicked his tongue within his mouth, spinning you around and pressing you into the wall as you grinned up at him.
“You should leave the sarcasm to me, it’s my only talent.”
“Well, now, that isn’t true, you do that thing with your tongue that-” His lips silenced you, his tongue snaking into your mouth and all but wrapping around your own as he teased you, tempting you to play with him, but the exchange was quickly cut short by the ringing of the school bell, and he groaned out.
“I’ll walk you to class?”
“Actually, how about we stay here?” Your eyes all but twinkled as you spoke. He looked shocked, and yet you simply grinned at him, leaning up to his ear and licking the shell, a breathy sigh escaping him as you did.
“We’re skipping class? You’re going to skip a class?”
“Only if you make it worth my while.” You goaded him, and he moaned under his breath, hands skimming down to find the backs of your thighs as he lifted you up and into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. He shouted over his shoulder to his friends, telling the ones who remained that they needed to clear out at once, and they did.
He smirked up at you, eyes dark as he watched you and you shivered in his grasp, his eyes scanning over you. “You’re wearing my shirt.”
“Hopefully not for long.”
“At school? You’re bad, who are you, and what did you do with my girl?” He joked, pressing his lips to yours and moving you over to sit you on top of the stacks of old wooden crates around the back of the sheds, your excitement burning through you as you thought about everything the two of you could be.
It might not work out, it might work out incredibly, but all you knew right now was that neither of you cared, because the spark between the two of you was uncontrollable, and raging fire, and the heat was addictive.