Can I ask for some Stackson? I’m on a Stackson kick lately. Cuddling + “do you remember when you used to think you were straight”

allirica:

@smokesforsterek I’m so sorry this took so long! 

warning: nsfw

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Ultimately, whether it be on the field or in bed, Jackson
Whittemore’s favorite thing to do was to torture Stiles Stilinski.

On the field, it was tackling him into the mud, driving him
crazy by never tossing him the ball, making him do extra laps around the
field.  In bed, he liked to be more
creative.  His favorite, though, was to
slowly open himself up, taking his time, enjoying it, moaning as Stiles watched
and ached and wanted, but couldn’t
touch.  Then he’d ride Stiles, slow, lazy
grinding of his hips, the pace torturous, to keep Stiles on edge.  He couldn’t touch; he didn’t need to tie his
wrists to the headboard because Stiles, as much as he complained and pleaded,
would keep his hands curled in the sheets, not touching Jackson because he’d
been told not to.

When Stiles was completely wound up, sobbing and twitching, then Jackson would let him come,
finishing himself off by hand.  

So, yeah, Jackson liked to torture Stiles.  But his favorite thing, though he’d never
admit it to anyone other than Stiles (and only barely him), was what came
after.  When they were cleaned up, sated
and comfortable, and he could tug Stiles close, tucking their bodies
together.  

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