Offline☽ Stiles Stilinski [2]

0.7 || Oh Shut Up

seven ; oh shut up

Stiles was pretty sure he never had felt this good in his entire life.

With her hands pinned down to the dark cover of his bed, and her almost black hair tangled up with his fingers, Stiles was pretty sure she never had looked this good either. She looked good under him, her dark eyes sparkly and wide with excitement and danger. Her lips were a bit swollen from all the kisses they had shared on their journey to his bed, and he loved it.

She brought her hands inside his white shirt, fingers tickling his ab muscles before ripping it off in a swift move. Everything about him felt good, and she had a feeling inside of her she couldn't quite explain. It felt like fire and it was slowly burning her insides with happiness and lust. She wanted him so badly.

Stiles took off Aria's black tank top quickly, leaving her in her too small goddamn shorts that did terrible things with him he wouldn't admit to anyone, and the red bra with black lace that made him think so many dirty thoughts at once it drove him crazy for her touch.

"Fuck, Aria, you know what I think of those" he moaned and she smirked, well aware of the rising buckle in Stiles' jeans. "They look too fucking good on you."

"Then do something about it, Stilinski. I'm
waiting." She answered with much more confidence than she felt.

He only smirked at her, sucking gently at the thin, sensitive skin on her neck, leaving marks all over it. He wanted everyone to know she was his, that he was the one that made those love bites on her precious little neck.

"Stiles? Stiles? C'mon man, wake up!"

Stiles opened his eyes, finding himself alone in his bed, much to his disappointment. He was expecting a little figure lay next to him with almost black messy hair. But it was just empty.

"Hey, dude!"

Stiles looked up, realizing he was not alone. In the middle of his room, Scott was standing, his helmet in his hand, and hair messy from it. Realizing what Stiles had been dreaming about,  Scott's mouth fell open.

"Did you have a wet dream, Stiles?" he asked, but no answer came. "You did! I can smell it on you!"

"Oh shut up" was the only thing escaping Stiles' tired lips, before he threw a pillow at his annoyingly happy best friend.

•••

this is trash, I know, I'm trash