Teen Wolf Mature Content Drabbles

Rage-Fueled Presidential Pegging (Stalia)

"Have I told you lately how much I hate ambassador Hale's daughter?" Stiles says, looking over at his father. They're in the oval office, John is working on something while pretending to listen to his son, and he hums. "She pushed me into the fountain, told me my moles were weird, and then told her dad that I was being mean to her!" Stiles screeches, getting his father's attention almost immediately at his loud words.

"Stiles, kiddo. I'm working on something important. Please go cry to Scott or someone else." John says. "Or just kiss her like I know you want too." John says, and Stiles gives his father an indignant look as he leaves his office. He makes halfway down the hall when he spots Malia, listening to music as she walks the halls toward her room, and Stiles scoffs as he storms passed her. Stiles doesn't bump into her, he swears he's not that petty, but it's not long before he is lying on his back with Malia looking down at him with her hand on his chest.

"Do not sneak up on me." Malia says, her hand digging into his chest. Stiles feels a flush of irritation go through him since he was just walking, and he shoves her arm away before he stands up.

"Don't tackle me, crazy lady!" Stiles snaps. "I was just walking, and you shove to the ground! What the fuck is your problem with me?!" Stiles demands, and Malia huffs at him while she looks away with her arms crossed. "You know. If you thought I was cute or something you could just tell me, and we could do something about it. Instead of you acting like an assbutt." Stiles says, and he means that to try to take the wind out of her sails instead she gives him a calculating look.

"What would we do about it?" Malia asks, and Stiles feels his next comment get cut off because that's not the way that he was expecting it to go. "Come to my room." Malia says, walking down the hall. Stiles, of course, trips over himself to follow.

****

"You have really thin fingers. I don't think this is going to work." Stiles says, looking over his shoulder at Malia. He's naked on his hands and knees watching Malia pour lube into her hand, and he spreads his legs wider to help her out. His lips are swollen with kisses, the sharp biting kind, and they're shiny from when he was going down on Malia before she said that she wanted to peg him. Malia is already wearing the strap-on, and she pushes two fingers into him. "Oh, hell." Stiles says, his head hitting his forearms. This is the only part of the evening that has been slow and slightly calm, but that soon changes when she pulls out her fingers.

Stiles braces his hands against Malia's bed when he feels the toy pressing into him, and he curses as Malia gives him time to adjust. Malia fucks like she acts, wild and loud, and she uses Stiles' shoulder for leverage to fuck him better. Stiles moans as he pushes himself back against her, and reaches down to stroke himself. "Oh, fuck, please Malia. Let me come." Stiles says, trying to hold back for her. He turns her head, letting her pull his hair while she kisses him, and he turns his body so that he can reach her clit under the strap.

Malia pants into his mouth as she pushes his hand away, and pushes him down on the bed so he can focus on fucking back on the toy. "Stiles." Malia moans, rubbing herself as she slams her hips forward as best she can. Stiles cries out as he comes, spilling on his hand and her sheets, and he flops down on his side. He feels her take his hand, sliding two of his fingers into her wet hole, and he moves them quickly while she grabs her breast. "Stiles!" Malia yells, coming on his hand. Stiles lays down on his side, panting hard, and he hears her taking off the strap-on and throwing it somewhere in the room.

Stiles tries to make a comment about her wanting to hide that, but then she's spooning him roughly from behind so he figures it can wait.