Teen Wolf Imagines.

Office / Stiles Stilinski

The sound of thunder could be heard from where you stood in the Beacon Hills police station. You shuddered slightly, knowing that the storm outside was one of the most vicious storms that had taken place in a long time. Your boyfriend Stiles seemed to notice your discomfort, and he slipped an arm around you, giving you a small smile. You smiled in return, leaning closer to him. You'd previously been out on your way to a date at the movies, but the weather grew too dangerous to drive in, and Stiles had pulled into the sheriff's station so both of you could take refuge under its roof.
You were currently sitting in his father's office, and the whole station was abustle with noise and activity. The phones were ringing off the hook, and officers were rushing about. Sheriff Stilinski was at his desk, animatedly talking into his hand walkie.
"You're telling me you can't take care of this yourself?" he was saying, his voice clearly irritated.
"Trust me, Sheriff," the deputy on the other end said, "you're gonna want to be here for this."
Stiles' dad huffed, and muttered a "fine," into the receiver. Then he stood, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on.
"What is it, dad?" Stiles questioned.
"Just a 415, I don't know why the hell I'm needed for it. But I'll hopefully be back soon. You two stay put." Then he was gone, leaving you and your boyfriend alone.
You looked at Stiles curiously. "What's a 415?"
"A disturbance," he replied.
"That's all? Well, it must be a pretty good disturbance if your dad has to be there for it."
Stiles grinned. "I guess so."
You let out a sigh and rested your head on his shoulder. He moved to kiss the top of your head. "Sorry our date got cut short, if it wasn't for this damn storm we'd be enjoying ourselves right now," he spoke again.
You moved to look at him, shaking your head."Don't worry. At least we still managed to have some time together, even if we're spending it in a police station," you replied, moving to kiss his rosy lips.
He slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and lengthening the kiss. "Yeah, I guess this is better than not spending any time together at all," came his answer.
After a moment, a sly smile found its way to your face. "Hey Stiles," you started, looking up at him, "I have an idea."
"What's that?"
"Well...I know a way we can really make this enjoyable." You hoped he would catch on to your meaning, but he just gave you a perplexed look.
"How? We're stuck in a police station, there's literally nothing to do here that could make it fun."
You raised an eyebrow, placing your small hand on his thigh. "Oh, but there is."
He visibly paled, and finally caught on to your meaning. "You seriously want to have sex in my dad's office, while there are people around us? Wh-what if someone walks in? Or what if my dad gets back? You really wanna have sex now?"
You looked at him, innocently blinking. "Of course, why not? Oh, come on, we can lock the door. And we can be fast," you grazed your fingertips over his crotch, leaning closer to him and placing your mouth against his earlobe, "no one will ever know."
He stuttered, looking at you with wide eyes. You only giggled softly and hopped up from your seat, hurrying to push the door shut. You spun back around, your hair brushing against your shoulders as you did so. Stiles immediately stood up, making his way to you.
"What are we even going to have sex on?" he blurted, "the floor?"
You grinned. "No, silly. The desk." At that, he silently gulped, and you brushed past him, turning to wriggle out of your jeans. You made sure to move extra seductively, exaggerating your movements, relishing in the way Stiles looked like he was about to faint.
"God," he huskily mumbled, "you're so fucking hot." You fluidly pulled your shirt over your head, and a small whine came from Stiles. Moments later, he came over to you in three swift steps, his hands automatically attaching themselves to your hips.
"That lingerie...it's new. You went to buy new underwear w-without me?" he questioned, his voice just above a whisper.
"Absolutely. Do you like it?" you whispered seductively in his ear, to which he tensed up.
"Yes."
"Oh, but I'm sure you'd like it even better if it was on the floor, am I correct?" You touch his crotch again, and he moaned out loud.
"Hell yes."
Then it was on. He hurriedly stepped out of his khakis and pulled off his t-shirt, immediately moving to unhook your bra, proceeding to drop it to the floor. He ardently placed his mouth to your left breast, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. You sighed in delight, letting your head lull to the side as he worked.
He hooked his thumb under the band of your underwear, and you pulled away from him to slide them off. Carefully, he lifted you into his arms and placed you on the desk. You wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting his chin so you could capture his lips with yours.
The kiss was deep and heated, your bodies so close that there wasn't an inch of space left untouched. Stiles discreetly slipped his hand down your thigh, moving his fingers between your legs until he found your most delicate spot. You let out a gasp, arching your back.
He smiled devilishly at you. "You like that, babygirl?"
You nodded vigorously, biting down on your lip and grabbing his shoulders tightly. He pulled away, looking into your eyes. "You didn't answer my question. I said, do you like that?" He questioned again, exercising his ability to be dominant.
"Y-yes, Stiles," you gasped, placing your hand against his neck. Your boyfriend wasn't always dominant. Often, when you would sleep together, he would be sweet and sensual, and liked to let you take the lead. But sometimes, his dom side would shine through, and it was incredibly sexy.
You let out a quiet yelp when he slipped his middle and ring fingers into you, roughly curling upwards. He moved his fingers expertly inside of you, turning you into a whimpering mess. "Do you want me to make you come with my fingers, baby?" he whispered into your ear, but you shook your head no, causing him to pull back and give you a questioning look.
"No, Stiles. I want you to fuck me. Please."
With a smirk, he removed his fingers from you, slipping them into his mouth and sucking on them. It was quite possible the hottest thing you'd ever witnessed. Immediately, Stiles slipped out of his boxers, placing his hand against your back. For a moment, he hesitated, looking into your eyes.
"W-wait, we don't have a condom," he said, disappointment in his voice because he knew this put a damper on things. You'd both promised not to have unprotected sex a long while ago, you always used a condom.
But you only smiled at his disheartenment. "Oh yes we do. Look in my purse, in the zipper pocket."
He removed himself from you and hurried to grab your purse from the chair by the wall. He located the condom, a look of victory on his face as he strode back over to you. "Now, let's get this going," he murmured, quickly opening the metallic packet and sliding the condom on.
Before you even knew what was happening, he had slid inside of you, causing a gasp to fall past your lips. He barely even gave you time to adjust before he began to move, his thrust slow and deep. You let your head fall onto his shoulder, a satisfied sigh leaving you.
"I'm going to make you feel so good, babygirl," he rasped into your ear, quickening the pace of his thrusts, "I'm going to make you beg me to let you come. I'm going to turn you into a beautiful, whimpering mess."
Your heart seemed to skip a beat at that. Stiles was never like this, but it was turning you on like hell. Maybe it was the thrill of having sex in a public place, or maybe he was just really horny. Either way, you loved it.
You held onto him tightly, moaning his name into his shoulder. His movements were becoming more rapid, groans coming from the back of his throat. "Oh my god, you feel so fucking good, baby," he hissed, and you lifted your head to look at him.
He pressed his forehead you yours, and then in one swift movement, he slipped his hand down to where it had been earlier, paying special attention to your throbbing bundle of nerves. "F-fuck, Stiles!" you whined, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Yeah? Are you close, babe? Do you want me to make you come?" he asked.
"Oh yes!"
"Yes what?"
"Yes please."
He began moving his fingers more roughly, his thrusts becoming deeper and more desperate. You felt the knot of warmth that filled your stomach, and you knew you were close to the edge. Stiles' moans were open-mouthed and loud, and he moved his free hand to grab your neck.
"Don't stop!" you exclaimed, feeling insanely close.
As if he were trying to make you hate him, he promptly stopped moving, and you let out a sound of protest. "You don't want me to stop?"
"N-no!"
"Are you sure?"
"Goddammit, Stiles. If you don't make me come right this instant, I will take care of it myself," you shot back, already desperate to feel your orgasm. Stiles grinned, his eyes sparkling. "As you wish, babygirl."
Then he began to move altogether. With his fingers moving harshly over your clit and the feeling of him moving inside of you, you were even closer to hitting your climax than ever before. You began to get louder, subconsciously wondering if everyone in the station could hear you. Then, you came unraveled, grabbing onto Stiles so tightly you were sure he'd be bruised. "Stiles, I'm coming! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" you yelped, your body throbbing and writhing beneath him.
He let out an open mouthed groan, his eyes fluttering shut as your climax pulled him into his own. "Oh my god!" he cried, his head falling back as he came, your name falling from his lips, along with a string of swearing.
Finally, his body came down from its high, and he relaxed against you. "You..." he panted, "you look so fucking hot when you come. I just thought you should know."
"Thank you," you giggled, pulling him in for a long kiss.
"We should probably get dressed before someone comes in," he mumbled against your lips.
"Y-yeah," you agreed. Finally, the two of you separated, and scurried to slip into clothing. Just as Stiles was pulling his pants on and you were putting on your shirt, the office door opened, and you both froze like a deer in the headlights.
Stiles' dad walked into the room, his eyes focused on a piece of paper in his hand. When he looked up, his eyes fell on you, then on Stiles. He opened and closed his mouth for a moment, as if he couldn't think of what to say.
"Dad, I–" Stiles began, but the sheriff only held up his hand.
"I don't even want to know, Stiles. I don't even want to know." He let out a sigh and turned right back around, heading out of the office. You both let out a sigh of relief, looking at each other with cheeky smiles on your faces.
"That was close," he said.
"Stiles, I'm pretty sure he knows what we were doing."
"Yeah, well, at least he didn't catch us while we were in the middle of it," he quipped, and you shoved his shoulder.
"And let's pray he never does."

Originally posted by imaginedwolves on tumblr!