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obriengf · 23 days ago

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happy birthday - stiles stilinski x fem!reader

summary: it’s april 8th, which also happens to be the day of your boyfriend’s 18th birthday, so you want to make sure he has the best day ever.

notes: i know, such a creative title!! happy birthday to my totally real boyfriend (it’s just fluffy and cute ig)

☾

6:00 am.

this was the time stiles woke you up that morning.

his lips brushed against your cheek and you stirred, hearing a soft chuckle from the boy beside you.

“stiles, what time is it?” your voice was between a mumble and a groan, and stiles kissed your cheek again.

“uh, like,” he rolled over to check his phone, which was sitting on the table beside his bed. “oh, it’s six.”

“ugh, gross. go back to sleep.” you said, your eyes still shut as you pushed his face away from your own.

“i can’t.” he complained, turning to lie on his back beside you again. “i mean, it’s my birthday, babe.”

“mhm.” you rolled over and stiles wrapped an arm around you, kissing the back of your neck. “and it’ll still be your birthday at 8 am.”

“did you get me a present?” stiles asked, lifting his body to look at you, and you opened one eye to meet his own.

“oh, crap, i forgot.” you watched the smile on his face drop and then put a hand on his cheek. “i’m kidding, i wouldn’t forget that.”

stiles rolled onto his back again, his head leaning against your own. “babe, i really can’t fall asleep, i’m too excited.”

you shook your head with a smile before leaning over the edge of his bed, reaching into your bag to pull out a gift wrapped box.

“happy birthday.” you spoke softly and his lips slowly grew into a smile as you handed him the gift.

he unwrapped it carefully, and once the box was open, he chuckled.

inside the box was a small collection of things you had bought him. a new flannel, some new markers, a pair of socks with little death stars on them, a dvd copy of the film hot rod, some more red string (because he only seemed to run out of that colour), and a photo of the two of you that you framed.

he smiled, and kept looking down, pulling out the picture before lifting his head and meeting your eyes.

“thank you.” he put down the frame and wrapped his arms around you.

“of course, baby.” you hugged him back tightly and he kissed you right on the lips.

when it was finally 8 am, stiles practically flew out of his bed and was downstairs in just seconds, greeted by his father who was making breakfast for the three of you.

and by 10, the two of you were grocery shopping.

not the most fun for a birthday activity, but in order to have a birthday party there needs to be food.

while you were pushing the cart down the aisles, stiles was picking out the different snacks, texting scott for secondary opinions as he did so.

then after putting a bag of chips into the cart, stiles leaned forward and pulled you into a kiss.

his hands held onto your hips, and you let go of the shopping cart to move your hands up to his shoulders.

when you pulled apart, stiles just gave you a smile and started pushing the cart away, leaving you standing in the aisle in the moment before you caught up.

“what was that for?” you asked, following stiles to the checkout counter.

“what was what for?” he asked in response, and you stared at him. “what?”

“you’re a weirdo, stilinski.”

“well aren’t you just the sweetest girlfriend ever.”

that evening, after hours of preparing, the stilinski household was decorated and the guests had arrived.

the guests literally just being the pack and melissa.

but that was all stiles had wanted.

he sat on the living room couch with scott and liam, but his eyes were on you.

you were in the dining room, talking with lydia and laughing at something she had said.

stiles crossed his arms and pulled his shirt, the new one you had bought him, closer to his body.

you had basically planned and executed the entire party, plus your gift for him, and you even made him a cake (which you hadn’t told him about, he just found you in the kitchen earlier in the day).

as stiles stared, all he could think about was just how entirely in love with you he was and how he wanted to stay like that forever.

in his eyes, no matter what, you were perfect. in every single way.

you turned your head, and made eye contact with him.

all you did was look at him, and that was all stiles needed to die happy.

honestly, in order to have a good birthday, all stiles would’ve needed was to see you, just like every other day.

but for you, you wanted to do all of this for him. if you could, you would give the whole world, the moon and the stars to stiles, and that still couldn’t compare to the love you feel for him.

so, the best you could do was to try and give him the best day possible, and you didn’t even know you had succeeded just by existing.

neither one of you could even comprehend how much you loved the other.

“how ‘bout cake, stiles?” noah’s voice caused stiles’ head to shoot up.

“now?” stiles started getting up off the couch before looking back to the dining room, but you had disappeared.

“come on.” noah chuckled and everyone moved from the living room to the dining room, where stiles sat at the table.

then the lights were turned off and stiles turned to watch you slowly walking from the kitchen, carefully holding his cake and bringing it over to the table.

the candles on the top flickered when the cake was sat down in front of him, and stiles grabbed onto your hand the moment it was free.

then everyone started singing for him, for his day.

your hand stiles wasn’t gripping in his own was gently passing through his hair until he leaned forward to blow out the candles.

one candle stayed lit, still flickering in the dark room for a few seconds until he tried blowing it out again.

then the lights were back on and the room was soon full of conversation and the sounds of cutlery against plates as everyone ate.

when stiles finished his cake, he lied his head against his crossed arms that were on the table and looked up at you beside him.

his girl. the most perfect girl in the world.

hours later, after you had showered and changed, you climbed into stiles’ bed beside him, where he was staring up at the ceiling.

“did you have a good day today?” you asked, your voice a soft whisper.

“the best.” he replied, his own tone matching yours.

you pulled the blanket up and leaned against stiles, one arm going over his chest.

“what are you thinking about right now?”

when you asked the question, stiles brought his hand around your body, his fingertips grazing the skin of your hip below your shirt.

“next month we’ll both be 18.” stiles told you.

“yep…” you were a little confused. “your point?”

“i want to marry you.” stiles stated, kissing the top of your head. “obviously not right away, but… eventually.”

you were silent for a moment.

“good.” you spoke. “because i want to marry you too. eventually.”

stiles smiled and you lifted yourself up to kiss him on the lips.

“maybe in june.” you suggested and stiles laughed.

he was the one to kiss you that time.

“i don’t care when it is, i just want it to happen.”

a/n: idk if this is good but i just love him so much like on another level

part two

#also reblogging izzys because its that good #okay bye now x

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obriengf · 23 days ago

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Jubilee || Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: You find moments of clarity throughout your boyfriend's birthday. Words: 1.9k Warnings: totally added tay swift references - not really a warning (: Notes: despite the photo used in the banner, the reader is non-gender specific, non-race specific, etc.

April 8th, 1995 - Happy Birthday Stiles Stilinski ・❥・

You weren't sure what it was, exactly - maybe it was simply just how his eyes would widen with excitement, a childhood gleam that twinkled so exuberantly as he smiled. Or, it could be how his body jumped with so much positive energy, the balls of his feet built with springs as he bounded around with pure enthusiasm. Perhaps, it was really the way in which he couldn't stop talking, in absolute Stiles fashion, his mind and mouth running with stories and ideas and honest happiness. Selfishly, you would like to say that it was when he encased his body around yours and provided loving kisses with every 'thank you' during his never-ending expression of gratitude. Whatever it was, it made this time of year your favourite of them all. Nothing could beat celebrating your boyfriend's birthday.

His twenty-ninth year started with a tender peck - lips pressed to his cheek as they covered a freckled canvas, his skin warm as it remained settled under the morning sun that filtered through the blinds. It twitched from such a delicate sentiment and was followed by lashes dancing as the boy began to wake. He was so beautiful, and it prompted your heart to clutch in absolute awe.

His arm was heavy as it remained slung over your waist, despite pulling you closer to his chest in oblivious movements from his still-slumbered state. He hummed lightly against the shell of your ear, a sound of acknowledgement, wordless contentedness to the complacency you helped him feel. It made you kiss him again on the upturn of his nose and he groaned as it scrunched.

"Hi." You whispered so quietly, his caramel toned eyes fluttering once again as they tried to adjust to the morning light. Stiles smiled at you, completely loving with just a simple glance. A hum pushed past your lips, "Good Morning, handsome."

"It is now." He replied, so smooth, so swift. The truth embedded in such little words and encapsulated with sleepy raspiness.

Noses brushed as you giggled under your breath, your thumb rubbing gently under his eye, "And Happy Birthday."

He leaned into your touch as if it were moulded to fit his face, love exuberating from his features with ease, "Thank you, baby."

It was amusing to watch as Stiles shovelled his face with pancakes - the breakfast dish easily branded as his favourite, and seen quite evidently as he moaned loudly in satisfaction. The plate was stacked high and you knew that the sugar rush could potentially be catastrophic, but it was his day, and he deserved everything he desired.

An incredulous look was etched deeply into the furrowed brows and confused lift of Noah Stilinski's lips as he watched his son across the table. The coffee mug in his hand was teetering on the edge of lukewarm by now, but he couldn't tear his focus away. You'd think that after twenty-nine years, the man would be somewhat immune to the quirkiness of his son. Noah's eyes glanced briefly around your small kitchen space - an area where you and Stiles spent much of your time since you moved in together. He had always admired the varied elements representing you both and how easy it was for your lives to merge. It was as if soulmates were united, and this is how your beings were destined to be intertwined.

"You spoil him." Noah's deep voice broke through the silent chuckle you expelled toward your boyfriend, eyes managing to break free as they looked to the man beside you. Appreciation filled the small smile he shone your way and you couldn't help but release an elated exhale, your head nodding in agreement.

"I know." Your reply was simple but was spoken with the utmost adoration for Stiles, observing as a childish spark embodied him with joyousness; a light that took a while to finally settle within his heart after years of trepidation and great wars. A sigh pushed past your lips, "But he deserves it, all of it, after everything he's been through."

And you would give him the world on a silver platter if you could, but you knew that all Stiles truly wanted was to be content. He craved silly grown-up routines and times when he could relax without the threat of worry. He wanted to relive mundane moments from his teenage years that were short-lived due to monsters that lurked in the shadows. He yearned for endearment and safety and just simply knowing that you would be there every morning and night, curled up in his arms, loving him unconditionally. Stiles never asked for a lot, so days like today were ones you strived to make special. Because he deserved special, every last speck of it.

Noah snickered to himself, pride filling his chest as he looked between yourself and Stiles. "He deserves you most, ya know." His words struck a chord - one with melodic tunes, strummed hard enough to get your heart beating fast as a red blush pinched at your nose and cheeks. You reached across and placed a hand over his, your eyes bright as you looked at the older Stilinski.

"Thank you." That was all you ever wanted.

Stiles could work a room, especially when the buzz was centered around him. He had bounced across your living room several times by now, excitement filling his veins as he couldn't stop talking to the friends and family who came to see him for his birthday. You were standing off to the side, half listening as Scott was making conversation about his week at the Clinic - your focus was mostly on Stiles, admiring the way he was utilising his over-energetic nature and definite possible sugar hype from his breakfast. He had never looked happier as words flowed from him, a bottle of beer clutched between the fingers of his right hand as his left arm hung jovially over Liam's shoulders in deep narration.

"You're not listening, are you?" Scott spoke up, amused as his arms crossed over his chest and he leaned back casually against the wall.

"Sorry, Scotty." You offered a smile, apologetic tones seeping through and your friend couldn't help but shake his head as he returned your smile amiably. You took a sip of your own drink, making sure to turn your body slightly, attempting to provide full attention even though your mind still wandered whenever you heard your boyfriend's laugh. "I was, I just got a little distracted --"

" -- It's all good." He intercepted your explanation, a look of knowing putting you at ease. He knew well the effect that you and Stiles had on each other, for the most part, and how you were both connected so seamlessly by an invisible string that without fail drew you back to one another. It only made sense that a part of your focus would always be on him. "But kudos on the party. You definitely decked the place out, and Stiles seems to definitely be enjoying himself."

You hummed, eyes picking up the array of decorations that you so carefully placed only a couple of hours ago. "You know more than anyone that I'd do anything to just see him happy. After all, today is Stiles Day and honestly..." You trailed off, features already beginning to scrunch up as joviality shaped your words, "I think I like it more than Christmas."

You laughed, and Scott joined you. He agreed wholeheartedly as his hand splayed over his chest, head nodding and lopsided smile growing by the second.

It wasn't too long after when the crowd gathered around your dining table with Stiles perching at the head as he sat tall. The lights were turned off and the room became swallowed by darkness - building anticipation, creating an atmosphere of smiles and eagerness for the theatrics to follow. It was the sound of hissing that made ears perk and eyes swiftly track the source as it entered from the kitchen. You had gentle hands as his cake remained in your hold; silhouettes sitting against the walls from shoots of sparking fire that sat atop his cake. His gaze grew large, and the normal caramel tone of his eyes shifted to a glowing golden hue from the reflecting sparklers.

You placed the cake in front of Stiles before planting a tender kiss against the apple of his grinning cheek, your nose nuzzling into his favourite spot under his ear, "Happy Birthday, my handsome man."

The crowd began to sing, mismatched harmonies growing louder in the small space of your apartment. It was hasty as Stiles' large hands gripped at your waist, your body falling toward his own before he sat you in his lap. Legs dangled over his knees and it made you giggle against the curve of his shoulder. Stiles pecked your template before replicating your nuzzle, his nose dragging against your hairline, "I love you."

You watched as the sparklers danced patterns across his affectionate expression, completely mesmerised by him and the fortune you felt, before you smiled up at him, "I love you too. Now blow out those candles!"

It wasn't much different from your usual Monday night; the television played some reruns of comedies from the 90's, every light in the room was turned off except the dingy floor lamp beside the couch, and the coffee table was graced by Chinese takeout containers and leftover plates of birthday cake. Stiles slumped back against the soft cushions with his feet perched upon the table, socks cladding his feet as they moved in tune with the opening credits of an old sitcom. He was in complete comfort, only made better by your frame as it was situated under his arm with your head pressed to his chest and hands curled in the material of his t-shirt. His touch was absentmindedly dragging up and down your side with dancing fingers, the sentiment just barely felt as the movements remained delicate and featherlike.

"Today was amazing." He said so nonchalantly, voice hardly competing with the television as the sound remained low.

You burrowed yourself closer to him, tiredness beginning to takeover, "I'm glad."

Stiles grinned lazily, his lips puckered before pressing kisses down the expanse of your cheek as his nose trailed after them, "But this?Right now... full of cake and chow mein, us cuddling and watching Friends reruns... this is my favourite part. Without a doubt."

"But we do this practically every night." You mused, voice laced with humor and confusion before gently pulling away from him. Your brow was raised, but the puzzled expression across your features was captured with a smile.

"Yeah, we do, but... just knowing how much effort you put into making today the best birthday, it just makes it all mean so much more."

Your heart pattered, a rush of endearment and affection. It was loud and fast in your chest, but one would never have guessed from the quiet squeak of your voice that followed, "I only ever want the best for you."

"And all I ever want is you. Period."

The light from the television casted a blue glow as you leant forward, your arms encasing themselves around Stiles' neck as thighs straddled his own. The programme was long forgotten, and his face settled against your shoulder. You could feel him breathe you in as his own arms wrapped around to your back, his large splayed hands pushing your body further against him.

You kissed the crown of his head, fingers gentle as they tangled themselves in the loose locks of his hair, "Happy Birthday, Stiles."

#just here to say #happy 30th birthday stiles stilinski #😭😭

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obriengf · 26 days ago

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only bought this dress so you could take it off, stiles stilinski

summary: you go buy lingerie for your boyfriend, which ofc leads to smut at the end

warnings: MDTI, 18+ characters are like in their 20s, stiles and reader live together, lingerie, soft reader ig, reader wears makeup, missionary (we love that in this household), fingering, finger sucking, pet names (baby), praise kink, unprotected p n v (pls don’t do this), hickeys, after care, mentions of becoming pregnant (not reader), girl gossiping <3, mentions of plan b, fluff, grammar errors

stiles masterlist

this was a mistake. a huge mistake.

the moment you stepped into the store, your best friend emmy gasped dramatically, clutching your arm.

“Oh my God, i can’t believe this is happening,” she whispers excitedly, dragging you further inside. “you, my sweet, innocent bestie, are buying lingerie for your boyfriend.”

“shhh!”you hiss, face burning as you look around. “can you not announce it to the entire store?”

she waves you off. “relax. everyone here is either doing the same thing or buying something ridiculous for fun.” she nods toward a woman looking something covered in rainbow gems. “see? no one cares.”

you groan. “why did i bring you again?”

“because you’d have a panic attack and run out if i wasn’t here, plus i’m a pro lingerie shopper” she says before gasping and yanking something from the nearest rack. “oh. this is the one.”

you glance at it, and immediately turn red. “that is tiny.”

“it’s bold,” she corrects, holding up a deep red, strappy set. “imagine stiles face if you walked in wearing this.”

“he’d probably choke and drop dead,” you mumble, shoving it back onto the rack.

she giggles, already flipping through more options. “fine, fine. you want something softer, more you. let’s see…”

after a moment, she gasps and pulls out a delicate blush pink lace set. “oh, this is perfect.”

you reach out hesitantly, running your fingers over the fabric. it’s soft, feminine, and so pretty. “it’s not too much?”

“nope.” she grins. “it’s the perfect mix of sweet and low-key i want you to fuck me.”

you open your mouth in shock, before a dry laugh comes out. your stomach flutters as you stare at it. “what if I look ridiculous?”

she snorts. “please. he’s gonna lose his mind. the man already adores you, and now you’re giving him this? he’s done for.”

you bite your lip, heart pounding. “i don’t know…”

she sighs, crossing her arms. “okay, let’s pause. how’s everything going with you two, anyway?”

you fidget with the lace, avoiding her knowing gaze. “it’s… really good. he makes me happy.”

your best friend softens, a genuine smile replacing her teasing smirk. “i love that for you.” then, because she can’t help herself, she adds, “and how’s the, you know… other stuff?” she playful giggles.

your face turn red. “i am not talking about that in a lingerie store!”

she cackles. “fair, fair. but i assume things are going well in that department?”

You cover your face with your hands before shyly nodding in agreement. “i hate you.”

“no, you don’t.” she grins. “now, are we getting this or what?”

you sigh but clutch the pink lace set tighter. “…yeah.”

she fist-pumps. “YES. Oh my God, you have to text me his reaction. something coded. like, ‘mission successful’ or houston, we have a problem.’”

you shake your head, laughing. “you’re the worst.”

“and yet, here you are, taking my advice.” she grins. “you're welcome, now help me choose something for drew”

later that night, after a casual dinner at your favorite little diner, you and stiles made it back to your shared apartment. the night had been simple, just the two of you, laughing over milkshakes and fries, enjoying each other’s company like always.

now, back home, stiles kicked off his shoes near the door and stretched his arms over his head with a satisfied groan, before you guys made your way to the bedroom. “that burger was life-changing,” he announced, flopping onto the bed like he hadn’t just eaten enough food to knock him out for the night. “i may never move again.”

you chuckled, rolling your eyes as you slipped off your jacket. “well, you better find some energy, because I have a surprise for you.”

his head lifted immediately, brown eyes sparking with curiosity. “a surprise? for me? what kind of surprise?” he sat up a little, watching you closely as you took a step toward the bathroom.

you just smirked. “you’ll see.”

before he could ask, you slipped inside and shut the door behind you, heart pounding a little harder now that you were actually doing this.

with a deep breath, you crouched down, reaching under the sink to grab the familiar pink victoria’s secret bag you had hidden earlier. the second you pulled out the delicate lace dress, anticipation curled in your stomach. the blush pink fabric was soft against your fingers, the lace weaving through sheer panels that hinted at just enough skin. you carefully unfolded it before quickly stripping out of your jeans and sweater, shivering slightly as the cool air met your skin.

slipping the dress over your head before putting on the matching panties that didn’t cover much, you adjusted the thin straps, smoothing the fabric down over your body. the way it hugged your figure made you pause, your reflection catching your eye in the mirror. it was delicate, soft, and undeniably beautiful—you looked beautiful.

your cheeks warmed as you ran your hands down the lace, turning slightly to take in the way it draped over your curves. you weren’t used to wearing things like this, but for stiles… you wanted to.

before you lost your nerve, you grabbed your phone from the counter and quickly typed out a message to emmy.

you: here goes nothing!

you: going to surprise him.

you: shaking in my imaginary boots

emmy: u def look like a goddess.

emmy: good luck, baes! keep me updated ;)

you: ur 2 much, love ya <3

with one last deep breath, you touched up your lip gloss, making sure everything was perfect before reaching for the doorknob. your heart pounded as you turned it slowly, stepping out of the bathroom with somewhat confidence.

stiles was still sprawled out on the bed, scrolling through his phone, but the moment he caught sight of you, the device dropped onto his chest with a soft thud. he froze, his mouth slightly open, the corners tugging into a faint, smile. “what-” he started, his voice rasping, but the words caught in his throat

“…holy shit.” he sat up so fast you almost laughed, his hands gripping the edge of the bed.

“uh—yeah. yeah, i—wow. you—” he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as his eyes flickered from your legs, to the lace hugging your waist, to the delicate straps on your shoulders. “damn.”

“is this for me?” he asks

“no, it’s for the bird on the window” you playfully roll your eyes, as you feel him admire you more.

you moved away from his gaze, tugging at the hem of the delicate fabric even though it did nothing to cover you. "you're staring." you muttered, your face burning as you looked away.

"how could i not stare?" he repeated, pushing himself up from the bed. his eyes stayed locked on you, wide with disbelief. “baby, how am i supposed to stop staring when you walk in here looking like this?"

"it's just lingerie," you mumbled, trying to play it off.

"no," he said, shaking his head as he made his way towards you, his feet pacing against the hardwood floor. his hands found your waist, his fingers firm but gentle. "It's you in lingerie baby. don't downplay it."

"you're being dramatic." you giggle shyly.

he tilted his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "dramatic? baby, i'm not even doing enough." he leaned in closer, his breath brushing over your ear, his hands roaming your body. "do you even know what you're doing to me right now?"

your breath hitched, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips. his thumbs brushed over the lacy material, and he shook his head, his eyes softening as they roamed your face.

“take it you like your surprise?” you murmured, tilting your head, as he moves you closer, his hand caressing your cheek, “you’re ruining me” his voice slightly drops, making your mind dizzy.

you look at him through your eyelashes, before he picks you up and plops your body onto the bed. he takes off his shirt in such desperation, as he crawls on top of you, he settles himself between your thighs, you feel his rock hard cock against them. your lips met in an intimate, warm kiss.

the kiss got messier, more desperate, needier "baby, look at you” he says his voice raspy and low between kisses.

“youre so fucking beautiful." he whispers as he moves to placing wet kisses on neck, you tilt your head back giving him more access to roam, you thread your fingers through his hair softly pull it causing him to groan. his hands rubbing on your soft thighs causing your breath to hitch.

“stiles please i need you” you whine out rubbing your thighs again, your core was calling his name, you felt yourself getting wetter.

you sigh in relief when his fingertips grab onto your thighs, spreading them open. as he runs his fingers through your lace pink panties, causing you to mumble out his name in desperation, “shh, baby, i’ve got you,” he murmured,

he takes off the pink lacy panties before throwing them across the room, he helps you out of the lacy pink dress. his fingers part your slick folds, and he hums at the wetness that instantly coated his digits. he circles your clit with his thumb, applying barely any pressure at all and teasing you further, making you whine some more

“don’t tease me baby” you whine, pulling him into another messy kiss, as his fingers continue to tease you.

he lets out a dry laugh before finally giving in, and he slips two of his fingers inside you. “like that, baby?” he rasps, pumping his index and middle fingers in and out of you at a steady pace. stiles thumb went back to circling your clit as he worked you open with his fingers, his eyes didn’t need to down at your core, he knew your body so well. a moan slipped from your lips when he curled his fingers.

“fuck, you are so wet, huh?” he teased, stretching out your tight gummy walls as best as he could, his pace quickly sped up, making you whine out. he pulled his fingers out. bringing his fingers up to your lips, you welcomed them in your mouth where stiles watched you suck your sweetness off of them

your tongue swirling around his fingers and sucking them, making him groan at the sight of it. “can you get any more perfect?” he mumbles, pulling you into a kiss, tasting your liquids in the kiss. he pulls away from the kiss, your mouth watered, watching him unbuckle his belt to shove his jeans off his hips, his boxers go next, and your eyes fall to watch as his hard cock springs free.

he lowers himself and lining his thick cock with your entrance. he softly kisses you, before he starts to thrust inside of you, at a slow and long peace the head of his member would kiss your g spot, making you spilled out moans. each thrust would make you feel hazy, from the pleasure.

he moans out your name, telling you how he wants to hear you. he continued to kiss you, swallowing all the pretty sounds you made while he rocked into you.

you guys would occasionally whisper ‘i love you’ between moans, the way he would roll his hips whisper sweet nothings in your ear made you see stars.

”every part of you is perfect” he rasps out, your mind went dizzy, your vision growing fuzzy, as you let stiles consume you. his moans were like music to your ears, the warmth of his skin making you feel whole, you felt your orgasm catching up to you, that familiar pit in your stomach forming. each thrust brought you closer “you’re taking me so well baby” he grunts out, as your fingers are tangled up in his hair.

“feels good, baby, huh?” he mumbles out “so good- stiles please-“ you slur out, as he begins to suck on your collarbone, stiles continue to thrust his rhythm into your arching core hitting all the right places.

”fuck, you feel so tight around me,” stiles praises, pushing futher into you, causing the both of you to be a whimpering mess.

your start spilling out his name he knew you were close, he started sped up. “mhmm” you whine from your pouty lips. you arch your back, your orgasm hitting you with so much force.

the feeling the way you clamped around his cock was mind breaking. you felt so fucking tight around him, all thoughts left his brain the second you whimpered ‘‘please cum inside me..’’

“f-fuck are you sure?” his hips stuttered, his cum threatening to fill you up any second now. you met his eyes, a silent doe eye look for him to do what you asked. burying his face in the crook of your neck, he softly bit the flesh there as he there, a groan leaving his throat as he painted your insides white with his seeds. you cradled the back of his head, pushing yourself impossibly closer to him as the hot ropes of his cum filled you up.

still going through the aftershocks of your previous orgasm, you couldn’t help but squeeze around his length, milking him for all he had before he platters kisses across your bare chest. running your manicured nails down his back, stiles stayed caging you between his arms, his thrusts coming to a slow stop. before he pulls out, flopping besides you.

the room was quiet, expect for the sound of your heavy breathing that soon slowly evening out. the air was thick with warmth.

you felt his lips press against your forehead, soft and lingering, before he murmured, “you okay?”

you smiled sleepily, shifting to nuzzle into his warmth. “mhm.”

but that wasn’t enough for him. his hand slid up your bare back, fingertips tracing soothing patterns against your skin. “like, really okay?” his voice laced with softness.

you opened your eyes just enough to see the concern look behind his eyes, and your heart swelled. he always made sure, you were fine.

“i’m perfect, stiles.” You reached up, brushing your fingers through his messy hair, still damp with sweat. “really.”

he let out a sigh of relief, then pressed another kiss to your forehead before rolling onto his side, his fingers dancing up and down your arm,

you stayed like that for a while—him watching you, you watching him—before his lips curled into a smirk. “not to be that guy, but… i was kinda incredible, right?”

you let out a sleepy laugh, “stiles.”

“i mean, i just wanna know if i should be expecting a trophy or maybe a heartfelt speech—”

you rolled your eyes, grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking him with it. he let out a dramatic grunt before tackling you back into the sheets, laughter spilling from his lips as he wrapped himself around you.

“im just saying,” he murmured, pressing a series of slow, lazy kisses against your shoulder, “you made some very compelling noises.”

your cheeks burned, but before you could protest, he was sitting up, pulling the covers higher over your body. “hold that thought—i’ll be right back.”

you watched as he slipped out of bed, tugging on a pair of clean boxers before disappearing into the bathroom. a moment later, you heard the sound of water running, and when he returned, he had a warm washcloth in his hands.

he settled beside you, gently nudging your legs apart before running the cloth over your folds, carefu. you shivered from the feeling, your still sensitive.

once he was done, he tossed the cloth aside, “here,” stiles said, pulling one of his hoodies from the chair by the desk. “this might feel more comfortable right now��

you slid into it with ease, the oversized fabric swallowing you whole, smelling faintly of his cologne still lingering, and you couldn’t help the content sigh that escaped your lips.

stiles watched you with a small, affectionate smile as you pulled the hoodie over your head. his hands reached for your waist again, giving you a small, playful squeeze. “i like seeing you in my clothes. you look better in them than i do.

“what’s better on me—the lingerie from earlier or your clothes?” you teased, watching stiles climb back into bed with you. he froze for a second, a look of complete surprise crossing his face as he thought it over.

“you can’t ask that,” he huffed, throwing you a playful glare. “that’s totally unfair.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, your fingers already reaching for your phone as you quickly texted emmy.

you: mission was a success <3

you: I’m gonna go buy more sets ;)

a few seconds later, emmy replied back.

emmy: yk what? get it!

emmy: drew and i had a GOOD time ;))

emmy: i was born to ride

you: raw and deep next, question

emmy: yk what sabrina carpenter said? “i might let you make me juno.”

emmy: ya, that’s me

you giggle, typing quickly with a grin.

you: i’m spoil that kid rotten

emmy: but in the serious matter, tmr go with me to buy plan b plss

you: ofc ofc

you placed your phone on the nightstand and turned your attention back to stiles. he was staring at you, eyes wide in disbelief, as though you’d just pulled off the most impressive trick in the world.

“what?” you asked, your voice a little teasing.

he shook his head slowly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “nothing. just…you’re unreal, you know that?”

You smiled, feeling a warmth flood your chest.

“movie?” he asked, voice quiet as he reached for the remote on the bedside table.

you nodded softly, still grinning, before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his jaw. as you pulled back, you let your head settle against his chest, your eyes closing as his arms wrapped around you in a comfortable position.

we all deserve an emmy as a bff <3

#oh my my gooooodness #fic rec #rec: stiles stilinski #queued.

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obriengf · 26 days ago

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Dylan O'Brien -> Finding Mitch Rapp (2/2)

#yes sir that is a MAN #whatta man #dob #c: mitch rapp #queued.

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obriengf · 27 days ago

Text

| "I'm Going Nowhere You Won't Find Me."

[Smut MDNI 18+; Established relationship; fem!reader; 3k words] BackwardsCap! Stiles Stilinski didn't mean to worry you. Don't worry, he'll make amends.

This work belongs to me, luckypunklemonade (Minte_Condition on AO3). I do not give anyone permission to distribute or share my work without consent.

“You could’ve gotten shot?!”

You slapped the table, standing up as Scott spouts excuses. All “I didn’t even want to go in!” and Stiles counters with “Scott found the key! And he wasn’t gonna shoot me!”

You shake your head, trying not to overreact and deciding between if it’s okay now that they’re here and safe or if you should freak out. “Are you kidding?”

Stiles followed your unsure train of thought, “Look, we talked to him, and we left. He was never really gonna shoot us.”

You brushed him off and uncomfortably kept your eyes out the window into the dark. Imagining a gun pointed at your boyfriend and his best friend was already scary, given how often it could happen. He didn’t seem to understand your anxieties being on the outside. He thought the fact that it was over would calm you down. You did, too.

Your big issue was that he didn’t tell you he was about to enter a dangerous situation. You knew what you signed up for in being his girlfriend, but that was one of your requests. That he at least told you so you weren’t left with nothing. He promised you would never be in the dark if he could help it. It was a mutual agreement that you could help, so he’d trust you, and you’d trust him You weren’t mad, but you couldn’t articulate just how you felt. You figured you’d be able to after a night's rest and then some.

“You guys need to get home. It’s late, and your parents are probably worried and clueless.”

Scott nodded and grabbed his coat, but Stiles stood firm in front of you.

“C’mon, can we talk?”

He stepped up to you, hands sliding around your waist and asking for your attention.

You ignored the ploy, “Did you drive Scott here?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, get him home. It’s too late to be out in this town. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he noted the frantic tone in your voice, emphasized by how much you knew about the supernatural in this town from him. Stiles grabbed his keys and walked with Scott outside. “Love you, honey.”

“Love you.”

And then he came back. You were lying in bed, taking deep breaths and winding down when he knocked. You shot up, sifting through what you know about the supernatural for something that could mimic his knock. You padded over the cold floor to the door and looked through the window at the top. It was Stiles. Of course, it was Stiles.

You opened the door, and Stiles stepped inside without hesitation. As you were closing and locking the door, he pulled you by the waist into him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Don’t be mad at me.”

“Stiles, I’m not mad. I just- I wish I weren’t left so clueless. I hate looking stupid, and then you come to me with something like this. I would feel much better if I had known you were going into that, I could’ve been prepared.”

Stiles smoothed your hair behind your ears, “I know it was stupid, and you should not have to suffer because of it.”

“I’m not saying you can’t go out and do whatever you want like you did before. I won’t ever want to change that. I don’t want to be the overbearing girlfriend who mothers you. I’m just– What if you go out there and get shot or hurt or worse, and I’m not there to help? I don’t want to be clueless and helpless when it comes to you. You know I’ll always be here for anything, and I can try to chill out, but-“

“Listen, you don’t need to do anything. I didn’t text you. That’s my fault. I agreed to let you know if I had planned anything stupid and failed. I wish you wouldn’t have to worry, but I’d do the same thing if it were reversed. I’m glad I have you on my side, okay? I’ll do better, I’m sorry.”

You huffed, not satisfied with him taking the full weight of shame that comes with an apology. “I just care about you. And Scott. I guess.”

He smiled and kissed your cheek, “Thank you.”

Another kiss, followed by several more peppered around your face, punctuated with, “Thank you, thank you, thank you-“

You cracked a smile and limply attempted to push him away. He shook his head, languidly walking you back from the front door into the kitchen. His lips followed in pace, listlessly pressed against your temple.

“I should’a known better. Should’a known you wouldn’t be satisfied with that.” He mumbled as he guided your hips to the counter. “Not my girl.”

“Well, it’s your girl’s bedtime.”

Stiles kissed behind your ear, just where he could reach, while he spoke in your ear. His voice was the same tone he used when he spoke up an innocent excuse, just a few octaves lower and so, so close. “Is it?”

“Yes, and you know how I get without sleep.”

You could practically hear him bare his teeth in a grin, his fingers tracing just beneath the hemline of your shirt, “How do you get?”

You laughed and pulled his hands away from your stomach, holding them in yours. He looked down at you, barely hiding how his eyes flicked to your lips every few seconds before ducking his head down into your neck. He subconsciously leaned into you, pressing your lower back into the counter. You felt him inhale deeply, his lips pressed into a spot just under where you applied your perfume. He went after the scent, however faded it was, and you felt him push his face deeper. His nose, his broad smile, his eyelashes all against your neck. He licked that spot on your throat before kissing it gratefully. His head dipped with each movement of his jaw, sucking at the point where he could feel your pulse on his lips. His fingers aimlessly tangled with yours on the counter behind you.

You had to give it to him. He could be reckless. Sometimes, it was hard to be his girlfriend, but he always made it up to you. He’d realized how little he’d been getting a hold of you and spend the next few days and nights with you, making sure you could see how much he loved you. He was erratic, but he wasn’t inconsistent with that part. He wasn’t on and off checking texts or stopping by; he was always committed to that, and it never stopped, but there were exceptions. Of course, you knew what you signed up for. He was worth it, you trusted him, and he was really good at making it up to you.

You brought your hand to the back of his neck, knocking his baseball cap sideways on his head. “M’sorry.”

Stiles bent slightly, hooking his hands on the backs of your thighs and lifting you up to sit on the counter. His smile hooked at the side, making every look of insane emotion sort of playful. He reached up, taking the hat off when you stopped him, “Keep it on.”

“Yeah?” His smirk grew more confident, a look you didn’t often see on the genuine side.

“Mhm. It’s hot.”

Stiles’s smile broke into a grin, although he was sort of distracted by the hickeys he’d left on your neck. Repeating what you say as fact, he let his eyes wander, “It’s hot.”

Your laugh pulled him back in, along with you grabbing a fistful of his flannel, “Very hot, sweetheart. Can you please fuck me now?”

It took him a second to think of a response, of course, after every thought he had was replaced with your words. “I can definitely do that.”

You helped him take his shirt off, repositioning the hat backward on his head after his shirt hit the floor. He smiled as you kissed his cheek and hooked your thumbs under his jeans, Mumbling against your lips as they traveled across his face and down to his neck, touching down every so often. Mumbling about how he’d wear whatever you told him if you liked it. Stopping you from doing any heavy lifting, he gently withdrew your hands from his waistband and led you to crawl into your bed. Instructing you to just sit there and look pretty, he slowly stepped out of his jeans and kneeled on the bed to help you with your shirt. At the pace he had going, by the time he had his eyes glued to your chest, you were already pushing your shorts down. When he saw your impatience, he chuckled and watched you struggle to maneuver them off underneath him. You huffed and gave up, moving your arms out of the way.

“Atta girl.”

Your interest in his new look made him cocky. The attitude that came with it was no doubt attractive. You found yourself searching for more openings for him to use his confidence and for you to encourage it. You started by humming at the praise, watching him drop your shorts off the side of the bed. At the same time Stiles leaned down to kiss you, your hands flattened against his lower stomach, against his happy trail. You both let out respective sounds of need, and Stiles’s hips lowered between your legs. With the feeling of his dick through the thin material of his boxers came your hips bucking softly. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes slowly, huffing out what was going to be a grunt. “Shit, honey. You make it so easy, don’t you?”

You hummed in response, letting him press himself into you and tell you fondly exactly what a guy like him should do to keep a girl like you happy. “I didn’t just know what I should just do with you, y’know. I thought about it a lot.” Stiles’s mouth turned up when he saw you weren’t really focused on his words. He leaned in, “Like a lot.”

“Mhm, just—“

“Alright, I know. You like it when I talk to you, though, right?”

“Yeah, honey. I like it.” You smiled up at him, the gears turning in his head. Stiles slowly dipped his head to your chest, sucking another mark into where the skin got plush. His eyes tracked yours, doing as much as he could while keeping your eyes on him. You’d been so frustrated lately, not just with Stiles. School issues, problems at work. The stress was irritating, but you couldn’t imagine what Stiles was going through. That understanding was a bare minimum in your mind, but for Stiles, you were the most considerate person in the world. He didn’t want to make you feel like he was just using you because you were available. So, he made sure to check every box he could for you.

“Fuckin’ love you.” He bit the breath coming out into his lip, and his eyelashes fluttered. He was doing everything to keep his eyes open and watch you. You mumbled it back, eyes squeezed shut as he thrust steadily, but he leaned his way into kissing your temple. “What was that? I’m sorry, honey, I can’t hear you.”

You cracked a smile; that’s all he wanted, but you ventured to use your hand buried in his hair to push his head back down so that his ear was by your lips. You held down a moan, replacing it with, “I love you, too.”

It came out with the same needy tone, though, and he found your mouth to kiss his smile onto yours. While he took a second to hold himself up and take a deep breath, your cheek rested against his wrist. When he felt you gently take his wrist between your teeth jokingly, he looked down and chuckled. “I deserve that. I’ll be a better boyfriend, promise.”

“Honey—“ You began, not wanting him to wallow in self-created guilt.

“I know, but still. Just let me…” Stiles’s smile opened as he moved his hips forward, hand molded around your thigh. He pushed himself deeper into you, eyes erratically trying to find something to focus on. Your face, your chest, your hands, down to where you took his dick so well, his eyes got overwhelmed. But he wasn’t going to close them. He’s not an idiot. He couldn’t figure out which would make him cum first. Closing his eyes and imagining you doing the thousand other things you had talked about, or keeping them open and watching you try to smile up at him through the haze, also struggling to keep your eyes up. It didn’t help that you tend to whine for him, showcasing how blank your mind really was. His thumb was less circling your clit than just trying to savor how messy he’d gotten you. He fed into his curiosity, which he would’ve done regardless of how good it made you feel, but especially because you arched your back off of the bed and pushed your hips up, meeting his thrusts, letting him bury himself deeper.

He encouraged you, feeling the need start to deepen, pushing him harder. He was driven, you’d told him, thank god he didn’t gamble. Anything verbal was hopeless. He just mumbled emphatically at each movement. He opened his mouth, a clue he was almost there. He just needed a little more. Just having him like that made you clench yourself around him, moaning when he almost lost his hold of himself above you.

“You gotta…” He almost ’woofed’ out his breath. “Fuck, honey, y’take it so good.”

His voice cracked on ‘honey,’ and you could see it sort of shook his confidence. He’d never really said anything like that with you. He was the first in the relationship to be vocal about most things. He said he loved you first, despite all the inner turmoil, even if it was sort of an accident. It was your encouragement that made him say it, your reaction to his confident demeanor. You saw an opening to make him feel good about himself; you took it. His eyes closed, gears turning and undoubtedly overthinking what he just said, but you said his name, prompting him to open his eyes and look at you.

With a sort of assured grin, you nodded at him, “Keep going. Wanna hear how well I take it.”

He mirrored your smile, getting shy about it, but his next thrust had him to the hilt and holding it there. You yelped a little at the feeling of him holding you, of him driven into you and bracing you while you squirmed. You moaned, and he twitched, hearing it sound like he’d knocked the wind from you. “Look at you. Fuck, you’re doing so good. Just like that for me.”

Mewling his name, extremities limp, you let him see exactly how much you liked seeing him try new things. He liked the way you tightened around his dick when he pushed himself inside little by little until you started to reach for his arm, and he’d stop there. You strained a little, taking deep breaths, the muscles in your stomach contracting and squeezing your cunt around him. You came around him, cursing and fawning. Stiles let out a groan that turned into useless and incomprehensible praise. His hips slowly retracted, slowly met yours again, speeding up until he found the release he was chasing. He struggled to keep the pace, though. He’d revert back to his other method, get restless, and try to keep up with his needs.

When Stiles came, his chest was pressed down against yours. All he had to do was turn his head, and he was kissing your neck again, breathing harshly. He built up the strength to roll over beside you and rest his head on your shoulder. He looked up at you with a little exhaustion when you sat up and brushed your fingers through his hair, the baseball cap forgotten for the time being. His fatigue was clear in his voice when he spoke, and he let his head roll off of your shoulder. “I’ll be better.”

You tilted your head, about to comment how what he just did was pretty damn good, but more than grateful he could recognize how stressed his being in danger made you. You leaned down to kiss his nose, laughing when he tried to croon his neck so that you met his lips. You reached over the side of the bed, your fingers finding the soft material of Stiles’s shirt and pulling it over your head. You managed to find his boxers as well, frowning when a hand took them from you. Stiles put them back on, still lying down and tired. You moved to sit on your heels next to him on the bed, your hand softly tracing shapes into his chest. Stiles tried really hard to keep his eyes open, but you ran your hand over his torso and up through his hair in a way you knew would put him out. He tried to keep talking, but every “mhmph” felt like a monumental effort from his entire body. He ended up letting you trace the veins on his arm while he listened to you, being soothed to silence and held just over the edge of sleep by your voice and your hands. When you finally lay down next to him, Stiles had fallen asleep. He liked waking up to find you had slid yourself into his arms after making him so pliable. Of course, you got a notification and had to check it before you went to sleep for the night, and, of course, it was Scott. He was asking why Stiles hadn’t been responding to his calls or texts and that he had a few ideas they could look over with Derek. You messaged him back that he’d been busy. That you both had been busy with heavy implications in the message. You sent a picture of Stiles fast asleep to help explain how you had put him to bed. Scott’s plain reply of “oh” was enough closure for you to put the phone down for the night.

#have i a;ready reblogged this? because if i haven't WHY NOT #fic rec #rec: stiles stilinski #queued.

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