Giving Stiles the best birthday sex he’s ever had…
It would've been super awesome if I answered this on his actual birthday but... I'm a couple months late, I'm so sorry 😭. Thank you though!
Stiles loves birthdays, he loves everything about them, especially his own. And he's not afraid to get cocky on his birthday. As he says, "I wait all year for people to even give me a second look. I deserve one whole day for nothing but appreciation and praise. I want the entire world on their knees, bowing down t-" This is about when Scott cuts him off and tries to bring him back down to earth.
Regardless, this same attitude remains in the bedroom. So, this year, his girlfriend decides to beat him to it, on her knees and bowing down to him.
His sleeping body is sprawled out in his bed; she's straddling his thighs as she presses tender kisses down his abdomen. She smirks when his boxers-or what's inside them, rather-twitch seconds before his face does.
For better access, she scoots back and settles between his legs. Small, drowsy whimpers escape him when she nuzzles her face against his clothed, now hard dick. Her hands gently grasp it over the fabric and her tongue licks a slow stripe from the bottom (of what her hands don't cover) to the tip. His legs stretch out and he inhales deeply at the feeling.
He's starting to wake up.
"Happy birthday, Stiles," she murmurs, peeling away his boxers.
His eyes shoot open when his dick reaches the back of her throat and he groans. "Fuck... Holy shit!"
He wants to encourage her, he wants to tell her how good it feels to have her mouth wrapped around him, but she's literally sucking the words right out of him. Not that he minds, of course. He'll gladly show her his appreciation later.
For now, however, he had three beautiful orgasms to enjoy endure. Yes, happy birthday to him indeed.
Sorry to ruin everyone's day, but Stiles holds hands when he cries, without a doubt.
Maybe he holds his love's soft palm against his own cheek while he speaks with a tremble, using it as a tether to help him work through his emotions. Their hands are practically soaked from all of his tears, but he doesn't even notice. He's only focused on her and all the love he feels radiating from her touch.
Or maybe she's sitting with him while he waits for his appointment with his therapist after a long, hard day. He squeezes her hand, trying to take deep breaths and ignore how much his leg is shaking. He wipes his face of the tears that escape with a bit of annoyance at his vulnerability in a public space. Sure, there's only a few other people in there with them, and they're all there for the same reason - to get help - but Stiles has always been good at bottling his emotions up. Why couldn't he do it now?
And especially during his panic attacks, when every muscle in his body feels like it's on fire and when his lungs can't grasp the air he's reaching for, he uses both of his hands to hold onto hers, so tightly that they shake. Sometimes he presses their hold against his chest or his forehead, needing to know that it's real, she's real, she's there with him.
Also, just imagine little Scott holding little Stiles' hand as they walk home from their elementary school after getting into another fight with the biggest bully in the second grade. Maybe boys aren't "supposed to" hold hands, like everyone says when they're eight years old and clueless. Stiles doesn't care, though, he knows he needs this (yes, he waited until they were in his neighborhood, away from any curious gazes).
The moral of the story is that sweet, sweet Stiles needs physical touch to survive. Everything becomes easier when he has a hand to hold, and this goes far beyond just crying.
Thinking about needy!Stiles and how he just wants to be inside you while you're busy reading or doing something.
Oh, Bitchhhh YES
You would be sitting there lying down on your bed, and he's just lying on your chest. His soft grabby hands are kneading your body. His hands would travel under your shirt, or rather his shirt that you stole from him.
Soft music would be playing from your radio, calming the both of you. The window is cracked, the soft low breeze blowing in. It moves your hair along with his. He shivers closer to you and you look down at him, moving the book out of your vision.
"You okay, baby?"
He groans in response, his hips grinding into your leg. You feel his harden groin rub against you and you chuckle. "I'll take that as a no."
He whimpers when your knee rubs the head of his dripping member. "Just please let me."
"Please what?" You asks curiously. At some point a bookmark is in the pages of your book and long forgotten. Your hands scratch into his scalp, soft breathing emitting from his parted lips. "Put it in you." His words spoke little with need but you know what he meant.
"Come here, love." He obeys and he crawls over you, hovering over you. He moves aside of your shorts and underwear and his dick slides against your slick folds. You hiss when he inserts into you, your cunt clenching on him. He groans when he's fully sheathed in you and he wraps his arms around you, his head going into the crook of his neck. "That better?" He nods into you, his hands grabbing the fabric on you. You continue playing with his hair and you chuckle when you hear soft snores. "Poor baby," You grab your book again and you continue reading, while one hand continues to play with his hair.
Author: @stilinskiparker
Characters: Stiles Stilinski x Reader
Word Count: 886
Warnings: Fluff, mentions of underage drinking
Requested: I've thought of one for the domestic kisses: " Friends kiss each other all the time, right"? I just picture awkward Stiles and reader - @fandom-princess-forevermore
A/N: Thanks so much for requesting this, love! I had so much with it. I know you asked for awkward Stiles and Reader, but it somehow got switched as I writing it, lol. But, I hope it meets your expectations! As always for anyone else reading, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊
When you think of your best friend, what’s the very first thing that comes to mind?
Loyal? Trustworthy? Good listener? Accepting? My best friend is all of those things… as well as hyperactive, clumsy, hella smart and cute as hell. Wait, did I just say that out loud? Well, anyway.
My best friend’s name is Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. Actually, it’s Mieczysław Stilinski, but everyone calls him Stiles. His mom used to call him Mischief because that’s as close as he got trying to say it when we were kids.
We also have another best friend, Scott McCall. We all met on the same day in the same place; on the playground in the sandbox, and let’s just say that that was the first time I ever saw a boy– ya’know what? That part isn’t important. Let’s get back to today.
Today was just like any other day; Stiles picked me up for school, where we spent the majority of our day. Then we went back to my house so I could pack a bag, then back to his so he could pack a bag.
Oh, did I mention that the pack was going to Lydia’s lake house for the weekend? ‘Cause that’s what we’re doing. Scott wanted the pack together for a weekend to “bond” but really it’s just us hanging out since we rarely get to do that anymore.
So, once Stiles and I got to the lake house, we went to pick our rooms, but they were all taken except for the master bedroom. Why Lydia didn’t take that room, I’ll never know.
Once we started unpacking, I gasped, scaring Stiles. “What? What? What?”
“And there was only one bed!” I said, feign terror in my voice.
He looked at me with the most serious look he could muster. “Seriously?”
At that point, I was laughing my ass off as he said, “You’ve got to stop doing that every time you and I share a room.”
“But it’s fun!” I exclaimed, throwing a pair of my socks at him.
“Stiles! Y/N! Come on! We’re gonna order some pizza and hang out in the living room!” Lydia yelled from downstairs.
We looked at each other, mischievous grins on both of our faces.
“Last one there has to take a shot of the strongest stuff?” Stiles suggested.
“Oh, you’re on!” I said, dashing off before he could start counting down. I was laughing all the way down, knowing that he was right behind me. When I made it to the bottom of the stairs, I went to make a run for it towards the living room when I felt a pair of arms around my waist, picking me up. “Stiles! You cheater!”
“This isn’t cheating,” he said. “This is called a tie!”
Before I could ask him what he was talking about, I felt myself plop down on the couch, Stiles right beside me.
“I don’t want to take a shot of the strongest stuff, and I know you don’t either.”
I looked off into the distance, thinking over my answer before I nodded in agreement. A cup was placed in front of my face, Lydia’s hand belonging to the owner of the hand holding the cup.
“Here,” she said. “Drink this. I think after the long week we’ve all had, we’re all gonna need a drink.”
“Or a few,” Isaac said, causing chuckles to come out of everyone.
~~~
A little while later saw everyone a little buzzed, having the time of our lives! Stiles and I were still sitting in our same spots, me under his arm instead of on it. Scott and Kira were on the floor next to me, Allison and Isaac were sitting on the other couch much in the same position Stiles and I were in, Erica and Boyd were just sitting side by side even though everyone knew they had feelings for each other, Jackson and Ethan were sitting very close to each other, and Lydia and Aiden were sitting together with her sitting next to me with Aiden sitting on the floor between her legs.
I looked up at Stiles as Scott was telling everyone a story about him, Stiles and I as kids. You see, I’ve always had a crush on Stiles, and I think everyone but him knew it.
He looked down at me after a couple of seconds, both of us getting lost in each other's eyes. At the same time, we both leaned towards each other, pressing our lips together. We stayed like that for a few seconds before I heard Lydia beside me say, “Oh, my goodness! Finally!”
Pulling away from Stiles, I looked at Lydia, asking her what she meant.
“You two aren’t together?” Jackson asked.
I looked at him before I looked at Stiles, who said, “What? Friends kiss each other all the time, right?”
“I’ve never heard that,” Kira said.
Feeling very embarrassed, I looked down at my jeans before getting up and going into the kitchen. Hearing footsteps walk in not long after, I looked at who walked in. “What just happened, Stiles?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But I’d very much like to kiss you again.”
Smiling a little, I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Well, then what are you waiting for?”
A/N 2: gif doesn’t go with the theme of the request, but oh well. this was very rushed ‘cause as soon as i was getting to the end, the babe started getting a fussy... let me know what you thought!
“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.” with Stiles please if you don't mind?
I love this prompt so much, thank you for sending it in lovely!!
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Closing your locker you spin around, fully intending to head outside to spend your free period when you come close to almost crashing into Stiles and you step back instead, laughing quietly through being startled “Ah, jeez why were you standing so close?”
“I was coming over to say hi and you turned around too quickly” he chuckles, his eyes glancing down to your shoulder before moving down your arms and taking in your outfit.
The previous humor clears from his face and is instead replaced with a contemplative little frown like he’s standing in front of his crime board trying to figure something out.
You give him a few more seconds to finish his obvious perusal before you’re tilting your head to the side “Come on then, what’s wrong with you?”
“Huh?” he asks, eyes snapping up to connect with yours before he’s shaking his head right away “No, nothing- nothing’s wrong.”
He clears his throat, trying to disguise how his voice previously sounded through his stammering reply and you just draw your brows in. Lifting your arm up you move your hand in a small little circle towards him “Right, you have this weird look on your face though.”
“I don’t” he counters, attempting to clear his face as he looks at you again “I do not, have a weird face right now- on my face that is.”
“Stiles” you deadpan and he sets his hands on his hips, shrugging a little while at the same time nodding his head in your direction “Are you- is that my- are you wearing my shirt?”
“Oh, yeah it is- you left it in my room after we were studying last night” you answer simply and he brings his lips inwards between his teeth, nodding his head a few times as he appreciates your outfit once more.
“Good,” he croaks and clears his throat with another little nod as he connects his eyes with yours again “That’s good.”
You laugh softly with that, making a face as you work through what he means “Good that you left it in my room or good that I’m wearing it right now?”
“Yup” Stiles answers and visibly grimaces, trying to quickly make sense of what he’s saying “It’s good that it’s not lost and the fact that you wearing it right now means I now know exactly where it is.”
You nod with his words, your brows drawing in a little with your next question “Do you want me to take it off so you can have it back?”
“Jesus no, we’re in school” he answers immediately on alert and he raises his arms up as if to block you from any prying eyes of the deserted hallway.
You can’t help but chuckle with his response at the same time you’re lifting up the unbuttoned material and saying “I’m wearing a shirt underneath it... besides, you seem weirded out that I’m wearing your shirt in school right now.”
Stiles takes a moment and looks at you, appreciating the feeling of seeing you wearing his clothes and how much he absolutely loves the sight. He also immediately decides to leave more of his clothes at your house in hopes you wear them more often.
Licking his lips Stiles shakes his head, his soft voice hesitant as he replies “Not weirded out- no, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”
“I liked the color” you state quickly, trying to keep the nerves out of your voice, as you raise your right arm up to indicate the blue, light grey, and white colors of the flannel sleeves you have rolled up to just below your elbows.
Stiles smirks at you, taking notice and seeing right through how casual you’re attempting to seem and he makes a noise, stepping closer to you as he matches your nonchalant tone “Is that so?”
You shrug, stepping back with him a few steps until your back presses against the locker “Plus it smells really good”
“You think my shirt smells really good?” he raises a brow with his incredulous question, his feet stopping on either side of yours at the same time his hands land on your waist.
Nodding, you place your hands on his chest and look up at him “Yeah, how could I not? It smells like you.”
Stiles beams with that, his fingers pressing into your sides a little more before you keep going “Plus wearing my boyfriend’s shirt at school so everyone knows I’m his is kind of a right of passage in the relationship world isn’t it?”
“I have no idea but fully support your decision” Stiles murmurs before he closes the small space between you and presses his lips onto yours.
Your hands grasp the open sides of the flannel he’s wearing and pull him against you more as you move your lips with his.
Remembering you’re in the school hallway, Stiles internally groans and pulls back to place a kiss on your forehead “So free period now, then lunch, followed by another free period before we close out the day with English... I say we call it a day now and go out for lunch, what do you say?”
You snort with that, letting go of his shirt to lay your hands on his chest once more. You look up at him and smile “Normally I would be the responsible one and say no, but since it’s the last day before winter break-”
“We’re going?” Stiles interrupts with a bright smile and you laugh, reaching down to grab his hand “We’re going- lead the way, sweetcheeks, I’m starving.”
heyy han, im sorry if this is a downer but could you write a blurb about stiles comforting the reader (aka me lmao but like you don’t have to say it’s me haha)(just making a dumb joke) cause she had a panic attack and he soothes her, i’ve had a long week and the next couple of weeks are gonna be worse, sorry i know this is kind of sad and angsty but i’m in that mood rn. hope you understand, don’t do it if you don’t want to! love youuuu
**I combined your request with @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone ’s (which included the dialogue prompt ‘you make me feel alive’ because you guys both wanted the same kinda thing (emotional upset followed by some lovin’ from our boy Stiles). I didn’t want to describe a fully-fledged panic attack, so I numbed them down just a lil bit! I hope you guys like!! Big love for the both of you <3
masterlist
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It’s been a long, horrible week. A week full of tears, heartache and upset, and it’s left you feeling as though you’ve been dragged through hell and back. Your mind aches and your chest burns and your mouth feels scratchy, and as you return home after an incredibly difficult Friday, it’s as though everything comes to a boil.
The moment you’ve pulled off your shoes and shoved your jacket on the peg, you’re padding through to your bedroom and collapsing onto the mattress, fresh tears stinging your eyes. You pull the fluffy duvet up over your head and bury your face into the clean surface of the pillowcase, not bothering to disguise your cries as emotion stabs through every one of your veins. It’s like there’s a dull ache in your heart, gradually growing sharper, pressing into your ribs and it’s just getting worse and worse and worse, and as your tears wet the linen, a feeling of utter helplessness overcomes you.
You stay there for a long while, feeling your body quake with heaving sobs as the tension and the pain slowly drain from your system. Soon, the utter despair shifts, replaced by a feeling of overwhelm. The tears lessen, but your fingers still clench around the sheets due to the pain of the noise rattling around your head, and you finally notice the scratchy dryness in the back of your mouth.
With reluctance, you stumble out of bed and stagger towards the bathroom, grabbing at a clean mug as you go. You thrust it beneath the cold tap and take a long sip, ignoring the reflection staring back at you. She doesn’t look like you - not with those bloodshot eyes and greasy hair and quivering lower lip. She’s like a ghost.
Dimly you’re aware of your door opening and closing, but you focus instead on splashing your face with the cool water as you try to instil some sense of life into the flesh. Your breathing still comes out ragged, but you feel a little calmer now.
After about a minute of standing in quiet contemplation, a shadow flickers over the doorway and you startle, your fingers tensing.
“Baby,” comes his quiet voice, wrapped in so much love and care that it triggers another set of tears.
Stiles takes a large stride, and before you know it, you’re wrapped up in his arms, your cheek nestled against the warm expanse of his hoodie. He holds you tightly, one hand cupping the back of your head as the other weighs down your back, and he doesn’t seem to mind as your tears soak the front of his jumper. “What’s wrong?” He murmurs after a few moments of quietly swaying together. You continue to nuzzle your face to his front, a ghost of a grin gracing your lips when you feel his warm mouth press against your forehead.
“Rough week,” you murmur quietly. He squeezes you again.
“What do you want to do?” He asks, voice tender and soft.
“Go back to bed, please,” you reply, a slight wobble in your voice.
Stiles treats you delicately as he leads you back to the bedroom. He bundles you up in one of his hoodies and tucks you beneath the duvet, disappearing for a brief moment before returning with two mugs of hot chocolate, giving you a jaunty wink as he passes you the cup. Once you’re settled up against the headboard, he clambers onto the large bed and shuffles up beside you, winding one of his slender arms around your back and pulling you close.
“I love you,” you murmur, eyes brightening as you take a sip of the drink. Stiles always makes the best hot chocolate - probably due to the fact that he heaps in twice the serving suggestion.
“Nah, I love you,” he teases, voice light. His fingers stroke over your arm as you drain the mug, and once you’re both done, he reaches over and puts the empty cups on the nightstand. “W’nna lie down with me?” He asks.
You nod quickly and throw yourself down the bed, giggling quietly when he mimics the movement dramatically. You’re still a little teary-eyed, but it’s less now. All the hugging and the forehead kisses and the warm cocoa have helped your heart considerably.
“C’mere,” he mumbles, pulling you into him. You turn to face him as he wraps you in his arms, and your head drops down to rest against his chest as he hugs you closely, your skin slowly filling with heat. The cold numbness of your heart moves out, being replaced by only warmth and love, and you take a finally shuddering breath before your lungs clear.
“Thank you, Stiles,” you say, gazing up at him. Your eyes meet, and a flickering of adoration passes over his face.
“I’m here for you, angel,” he promises, words gliding together. He leans down to kiss your forehead, and at the point of contact, sparks race loose. They fill your head before bursting down your spine, flooding every part of your system with uncontrollable love, your heart rattling against its cage. Stiles takes your fingers and intertwines them gently, and when he squeezes your digits, you know you’re going to be okay.
“You make me feel alive,” you breathe, words simply whisked from your mouth. Stiles hums lowly and pulls your hands up to his mouth to kiss over each of your knuckles, paying them all particular attention. You can feel him looking at you, watching your face, so don’t hold back the large smile that finds your lips. For the first time all week, genuine happiness rounds your cheeks, and you couldn’t be more thankful.
One person can’t fix all the problems in your life, but with Stiles around, you feel stronger. You know as long as you have him by your side, you’ll always have a set of warm arms to fall back into.
