Stydia One Shots

Stressed Out (Smut/StilesxMasturbation)

I put smut in the title, so the perverts - that only read the smut - know.

Stiles' POV

"Dad?!" I call out, closing the door behind me. No one answers. I shuffle into the kitchen. There's a note.

Working late till 3 am, dinner is in the fridge.

I groan loudly. I leave the kitchen slowly, like a snail. I slump up the stairs. I am so stressed out.

It is a Tuesday, which for me is the worst day of the week. It's the day after Monday, where the day is shitty but no one uses a witty excuse about it being Monday. It's the day that people come to school with homework, and start counting the days till Friday.

Not to mention Theo, chimeras, dread doctors, and all the other crap.

When I reach my room I feel like I have weights in my backpack. I drop the extra weight, kicking off my converse and landing in my desk chair. My hand hovers over the keyboard, nah I wont need it. I know I have homework to do. I know I should be doing something productive with my life, but whatever.

Malia has been a real bitch lately. There's rumors going around that she's doing something with Jackson, but I've chose to trust her.

My muscles tighten at the thought, I don't fully trust her. But on to more pressing matters.

Fuck, Malia looked hot today. That damn tank-top and those jeans. I love those jeans. Too bad Malia had to do something with Peter today. Something about family bonding. I had barely seen her today and little-Stiles was dying, straining against my zipper. It starts to hurt so i unzip and unbutton my jeans.

The thought of Malia in my lap, her arms around my neck and her ass grinding down on my crotch was enough to kill me. I palm myself through my underwear, groaning at the feeling.

My eyes close and everything is so clear to me. The soft skin. Plump, red lips. Emerald eyes. Strawberry blonde hair. I'm not going to lie, I'm not over Lydia. I have to see her everyday, she looks fucking perfect everyday. We'd kissed when I had a panic attack, but then again earlier this year we were drunk at a party and things had gotten out of hand.

God, she had felt so good, on me, under me, around me.

I moan, feeling myself get harder by the second. I kick off my jeans quickly. I remember how it felt to have her nail scrape over the skin under my belly button and over the waistband of my underwear. My teeth bite into my bottom lip as I try not to buck my hips. I shudder, pulling off my boxers.

My nine-inch slaps my stomach, leaving my it glistening with pre-cum. I remember how her hair draped around me as she trailed kisses down my chest. I grip the tip, teasing it as she did with her tongue. A shaky moan comes out of my lips.

My hand moves in the same rhythm that her head had months before. Her pretty lips felt so perfect on my shaft. Lydia's warm tongue had licked and rolled around my tip, while her hand softly caressed my balls.

I go faster, again meeting the same rhythm. I buck my hips into my hand. My grip gets tighter, and my head goes back as her name leaves my lips. "Fuck, Lyds." I breath out. My breathing is uneven and staggering.

The whole room feels humid, my muscles loosen. I can feel myself reaching my high, I'm sweating through my shirt. She felt so good, this feels so good. My fist pumps faster on my shaft and all I could think about was Lydia.

"Oh god, Lydia!"

A/N

That was... Yeah... That was... Uh-huh.