she knows what I think about
And what I think about
One love, two mouths
One love, one house

── ·𖥸· ──

          STILES ROLLED INTO the driveway at exactly 12 o'clock. After several hours of conversing with their friends the night had finally come to an end; the group had split into their pairs and headed home for the night. Nobody was surprised when Scott and Allison rushed to their car, giddy smiles on their faces as Scott just happened to steal a quick kiss before she closed the door.

Both Stiles and Y/N had seen the interaction—they saw them all—and they couldn't help but mimic the dopey grins formed on their lips.

The two had been in love ever since Scott gave her a pen at the beginning of Sophomore year. After that it was merely a retelling of Romeo and Juliet, except with less death and more werewolves.

She was clearly happy for the two of them, though it was a bit concerning to watch them ignore the rest of the world whenever they were together.

"I mean, seriously," Stiles complained, "can Scott not keep it in his pants for one night?"

It was honestly as if he had read her mind.

His fingers tapped against the edge of the wheel, his other hand coming down to turn off the ignition. He slumped back in his seat, still keeping one hand on the wheel.

"We're happy for them," Y/N reminded, her tone was warning, "Remember."

Stiles straightened out his hand, making a point to show it in the air between them. "You say this every time, and every time Scott manages to do something to add to his list of reasons I can't be seen in public with him."

"What was it this time?"

His expression dropped. A blank gaze met her own. "Sharing. Fries."

She laughed involuntarily. "Really?"

"Yes, really!" he exclaimed, "god, did you not see them at dinner? Scott was feeding Allison  fries as if she was the freaking goddess of all goddesses."

She had to press her lips together to hold back the next laugh that wanted to escape. Stiles always had a strong opinion on what went on around him; most of the time is was nonsense reasons that were created only to prove his point.

"They're cute," she shrugged.

"They're gross."

"It's just PDA," Y/N brushed over, "you don't seem to have a problem with it until you're the one witnessing it."

"We don't share fries," he pointed out, holding one finger in the air—as if that was going to help him prove his point farther. He faced back towards the road, hands in his lap now. "And that's not even the extent of it. You know how many times I counted them kissing tonight? Twenty-five. Twenty-five times and that doesn't even count once we left the restaurant."

She moved to lean her body over the console so that her elbows could prop her up. From this angle she could admire his side profile. She took in the slope of his nose, his tousled hair that fell forward on his for-head, and even his Cupid lips that were gaped slightly open from where he was absentmindedly rambling to himself. 

"Really?" she questioned, "I only remember seeing like...two."

"Yeah, well, I'm not talking just mouth to mouth."

Y/N smiled to herself and leaned forward to press a light kiss to his jaw.

"Exactly like that!" His hand flung out toward her in the normal spastic way. "All night too. It was-"

"Disgusting?" she filled in, repositioning herself against the console so she could reach him better. Her lips dragged slow kisses up the side of his face, ending near the edge of his ear. Stiles had been distracted by his own voice that he hadn't noticed what she was progressing.

Her hand slid slowly onto his knee, rubbing back and forth to the same pace she was laying the kisses.

He looked over at her just as she began trailing down to his neck.

"Y/N?" he asked. If she wasn't wrong she would say there was a slight shake to it—confusion. She pulled away for a moment and just smiled. A small smile, but it was enough to cause Stiles' eyes to change into a look of adoration.

In a fleeting move he pushed his lips onto hers, reaching for the back of her neck at the same time. His one hand threaded through her hair with ease, while the other one steadily placed itself on the seat to push himself closer. She was well aware of the boundary in-between them that was preventing them from becoming any closer. If this was going to go any farther then they would need to move somewhere else.

His hand grabbed her waist, and his long fingers managed to skim past the part of her body where her sweater had rose up. His hand attempted to splay across her back, but he was unable to reach due to the console.

In response she had opened her lips to suggest that they take it inside, but she felt his tongue slip into her mouth instead. The action took her by surprise and judging from Stiles' intense grip on her hair he had known it did too.

Her hand was sliding up his thigh now. She sought it only fair if he was going to tease her by slipping his fingers down the high waisted shorts she was wearing.

There was a faint hum against her lips, which resulted in Stiles breaking away. She backed away aswell, waiting for his next words to leave his lips.

"Should we?"

All she had to do was nod.

The two of them quickly hoped out of the jeep after that, quickly walking to the front door so Stiles could unlock it. He fumbled through his keys before he was able to find the right one. Once he did, it was hastily slotted into place and the wooden door was pushed open.

He let her walk in first then promptly closed the door behind them. She barely got a foot in before he had kissed her again, sending her tumbling back into the door they had just came through.

A sudden spark of confidence guided him as he placed his hands on either side of her on the door. His fingers traveled up towards one of her hands and locked them together beside her head. The other was back in her hair, which she was by no means protesting. She kept her own hands occupied by looping her pointer fingers through his waistband, tugging him closer until their bodies were practically mesh.

He sucked on a spot under her jaw, causing her to squirm just a little. She was sure it was going to leave a mark she'd need to cover up in the morning, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Stiles," she whispered. He made no move of stopping.

"Mhm."

"We can't do this in the kitchen."

Stiles pulled away slowly. He looked around, but kept his body in the same position as it had been. "Technically we're in the foyer," he quipped back—when he saw her disappointed glare he stopped, "but you're right. My room?"

"Your room," she agreed.

They made their way up the stairs quickly, Stiles always keeping one hand on the lower portion of her back. In the most heartfelt way, she found the gesture endearing.

The door to his room was already open when they got upstairs. He quickly kicked a few dispersed books out of the way as they walked into the room together. Y/N glanced around at the scenery of the room that had become so familiar to her. The dark blue walls, matched with a plaid bedspread that was already halfway falling off. The strange assortment of posters of different fandoms he was apart of. In a sense the room really did a great job at grasping who he was as a person—chaotic, but at the same time put together in a way that only he would understand.

She kicked off her shoes; Stiles followed in suit.

In the next few moments they were against eachother again, backing up towards his bed faster than she would've expected. It just so happened he had been the one against the frame of the bed; she saw him realize his position right as she pushed him down.

There was no doubt that his heart was beating insanely fast. She could practically feel it thudding through every part of his body as she climbed over his legs.

"Woah.." he whispered, his head lifted slightly off the bed to get a better view. She smiled and ran a hand through his hair, the other firmly placed on his chest where she bundled a batch of his shirt in her fist.

"Is your dad coming home tonight?"

"No," Stiles replied, his words clearly choked up, "He has a late shift; he'll be there till 6."

Y/N leaned down and kissed the crown of his head, "Good," she stated, then adjusted the position in which she was sitting.

She continued kissing him, slowly moving her hips against his, begging for any form of friction. Stiles groaned at the new sensation and she couldn't help but smile against the spot where she had been kissing his neck.

"I love you," he pressed out, and Y/N kissed the lips that had spoken the words.

"I love you, too."

Their kiss was tender at first—slow, meant to show how much they cared about each other—but by the third or fourth the kisses became less controlled, instead turning into a repetition of open mouths with more tongue and more gasps for air.

Her fingers grabbed at the hem of his shirt urgently, desperate for the peice of clothing to come off. He broke away, face flushing with a crimson color that reached the tips of his ears. In a brief moment the two of them leaned forward, then slowly he pulled the shirt from his body.

His fingers caught the end of her sweater. "Can I?"

"Yeah," she whispered and with that the fabric was pulled from her body in one swift motion.

Stiles shifted their position next, him now climbing on top of her. He laid her down gently, attaching their lips which he used as a force to push her into the bed. She slid herself farther up on the comforter, allowing him to cover herself with more of his body.

They pulled away for a second; their eyes met. His body was pushed up from his elbows as one hand cupped the side of her face. He brushed the pad of his thumb along her skin, a small smile growing on his pink lips as he continued to gaze at her.

His head lowered, lips attaching to her neck right above her collarbone. He traced his lips along the bone, leaving slow lingering kisses that made her body heat up at the touch.

The range of his kisses continuously moved down the longer she laid there. They progressed to her chest where his fingers brushed over one of her breasts. Lower they went until he was kissing along the base of her thighs. She could sense him moving off the bed as he kept a firm grip on her legs. He sucked hard enough to leave a mark on the inside, and when he snuck a finger up her shorts she could sense the sound she was about to release.

Suddenly, he stopped. Y/N propped herself up on her elbows to see what was the cause, but she couldn't tell just from Stiles' look of adoration that was directed on only her.

He rose from his knees and placed a hand on the side of her face, tucking a peice of hair behind her ear. Their eyes stayed locked as his hands slid along her back, his fingers finding hold on the clasp of her bra.

It took him a few seconds to figure out how to unhook it correctly, fumbling with the clasps and managing to undo only half at first. His face scrunched in frustration, his nose flaring just enough that it was noticeable—only because she was so close, though.

"Got it," he laughed lightly, and she joined in aswell.

She pulled the garment off her body completely, tossing it to the side of the room where she could retrieve it later. He blinked several times, then shook his head as if the action needed to be disregarded immidiantly.

"Something wrong?"

"No, uh.." Stiles glanced her over again; she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as licked his lips. He reached for one of her hands, pressing light kisses to her knuckles.

"It's just," he smiled; looked at her again, "You're beautiful."

Now, she was blushing.

"Thank you," she proclaimed, gaze falling to her lap where she stared at their connected hands.

He placed a finger under her jaw, forcing her to look at him. "I mean it. You're the most gorgeous, stunning, pretty girl I've ever laid eyes on."

She chuckled at his declaration.

Their lips connected again and he fell to his knees so he could kiss her properly. Stiles set the pace for them this time, pushing his lips against her in an act of eagerness. Once the two had to break away for air, he moved his face slightly to the side.

"Could I try something?" he whispered. His voice was lower than it had been the rest of the night.

"Sure," she affirmed; she felt her stomach twist with an urge of curiosity, but also excitement, "whatever you want."

Stiles nodded, but she wasn't sure if that was for her or for himself. "Lay down," he told her, and at this point she had a strong feeling she could guess what was about to happen.

He positioned himself over her again. His fingers reached for the waist of her shorts. They slipped off her body with ease from the command of Stiles, and she would've felt exposed with anybody else when her underwear was pulled down aswell. Except this wasn't anybody else—this was Stiles—and she was comfortable.

His thumb pressed on her clit once, just gently, before it moved back and forth. The sensation sent shivers up her spine. He took that finger away and she almost whined at the lack of contact before his pointer found her entrance, circling it a few times, allowing her wetness to coat his finger before he slowly pushed it in.

"Just tell me if im hurting you," he said softly. Slowly he thrusted it in and out, causing soft gasps to escape her throat.

She said his name involuntarily and he took that as a sign to stop.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," she sighed, "keep going."

"Tell me if I need to stop," he said again, but she had no plans of asking him to quit.

He continued like that for another few seconds. Then, testing the waters again, slipped in a second finger.

His long, beautiful fingers that connected to his very large hands. The veins that became more prominent whenever he was writing or tapping his fingers on any given surface. He was always moving—his hands were always moving—so it was easy to get distracted by them.

"Stiles..." she moaned, and he did his best to maintain the pleasure.

He continued thrusting his long fingers in and out; she griped the sheets, clawing at them as the bed shook from their movements.

"I'm close," she panted, and he looked down onto her body, now gleaming with a layer of sweat.

Stiles looked into her eyes, and she could see how black his eyes were. He seemed unsure of what to do and hoped that he was doing something right as he curled his fingers, causing her to scream his name.

"You can let go now, baby."

His words pushed her over the edge and she shattered across his fingers, causing him to slow down his pumps. However, he didn't stop  moving until her body stopped shaking, laying calmly below him. He pulled his fingers out going into the drawer beside him and grabbing a foil packet.

He ripped the packet open with his teeth—like how Scott told him to do—and slid it down his dick. He grabbed her hips with one hand, and then lining it up with her entrance he asked,

"Are you ready?"

── ·𖥸· ──

MAE !
I will cry if anyone makes fun of this.

and ( minhoslittleslut ) wrote the ending
so creds to her and ( FictionBoys4Life )
wrote some too

and also gonna tag ( aveada_kedavra )
bc she's been waiting for this