Stiles Stilinski X Reader - Blog Posts

Fireworks and Milkshakes

Teen Wolf

Request: No

Summary: Stiles x fem!reader. New Years with Stiles is chaotic.

Words: 1,637

Warnings: TENSION : ) also shitty writing :))

—

The smell of cinnamon was overpowering in the tiny living room the McCall pack was currently sitting in. Lydia insisted that whenever they were at her lake house it needed to smell and look good at all times so there was always a candle burning. Y/N sat nestled in the corner of the couch Stiles next to her, Isaac sitting on her other side in an armchair, and Kira was resting against her legs.

On the TV mainly as background noise, was the New York ball drop at Times Square. They were about two hours time away from the New Year. And hopefully, this coming year would be much better and SAFER than the last. 

“Alright, I say we make milkshakes!” Malia announced standing from her spot on the other side of the couch. Scott also got up with the girl stretching out his arms. 

“I agree, I’m practically falling asleep waiting for midnight so I think we need something to do,” he said, making everyone stand up and head to the kitchen. Lydia pulled the ingredients out for a variety of different kinds of milkshakes and clasped her hands together.

“I have an idea,” she said pulling out a couple of blenders. As to why she had more than one was a mystery yet to be solved.

“I say we have ourselves a little competition,” she smiled innocently and continued. “We split into teams of two and we try to make the best milkshake we possibly can.”

“Oh but wait we’ll need a judge!” Lydia exclaimed looking at her hands. Corey jumped up excitedly, “Mason and I will judge! Right, Mason?”

“Uh, yeah sure sounds like fun,” Mason smiled at his boyfriend.

“Okay everyone split off and I’ll start a timer so we don’t miss the count down,” Lydia said walking off to grab her phone from the living room. 

Scott and Kira paired up obviously, they’d been dating for nearly two and a half years, they were a well-oiled machine! 

Malia and Isaac paired, they hadn’t known each other long but they got along fine, they’d even gone bowling together once so what could go wrong, right? 

Liam and Theo teamed up as per usual, since the whole ghost rider incident they’d grown quite close and they had been going out for about a month after they realized there was something more to their relationship. 

Jordan waited patiently by the island for Lydia to return so they could pair together as well, them also dating. It seemed as if everyone in the pack had someone so that just left Stiles and Y/N to team up, best friends since kindergarten.

“Well, Stilinski which flavor should we go for?” Y/N smiled at him walking to one of the free blenders. He rested on the counter and tilted his head to look at her. 

“I say strawberry, but feel free to argue if you have a better idea,” he turned and rested his back against the countertop to get a better look at Y/N. His sleeves of the plaid her currently adorned were rolled up to his elbows. Showing off his defined forearms. Y/N couldn’t help but glance at the skin displayed. She lost her train of thought for a brief moment.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, strawberry sounds delicious, and maybe we can add dark chocolate pieces and fresh strawberries and start with a Vanilla base?” She pulled herself together. Stiles nodded just as Lydia returned iPhone in manicured hand. 

“Alright, I’ll set the timer so we have just enough time to go out and light fireworks,” she clicked on her screen and everyone got into position, including Mason and Corey who took seats at the island and pulled out their phones to pass the time.

“On your mark, get set, GO!” Lydia announced. Everyone began fixing their frosty treats.

Stiles and Y/N wasted no time grabbing their ingredients. They barely even spoke seeming to read each other’s minds or at least that’s what it looked like on the outside. Y/N began chopping strawberries and Stiles broke up the chocolate. 

By the end, their shake looked simply to die for. Kira and Scott’s looked amazing as well, along with Lydia and Jordan’s. Theo and Liam argued basically the entire time like an old married couple and barely finished a simple chocolate shake. Malia and Isaac somehow managed to spill their shake getting it all over themselves, Malia taking Isaac’s face and smearing a line across his forehead chanting, “Simba.” Which in turn made everyone cackle madly with laughter.

Liam and Theo managed to win the competition somehow, and it is still dumbfounding to think about. Corey said something about not being able to beat the classics and Liam said love was their secret ingredient which made Theo roll his eyes violently. 

About 15 minutes before the ball drop they all shuffled outside in jackets to light the singular firework they had gotten from very understocked Walmart. The firework was a brilliant green and gold which was quite beautiful actually in Y/N’s opinion. After that, they cracked out the sparklers, and Stiles and Y/N waved them at each other like wands pretending to battle. Stiles claimed to have won but Y/N disagreed saying nobody could beat her at a magic duel, Stiles reluctantly agreed due to her puppy dog eyes. 

Now they were all back in the living room 5 minutes from the ball drop and the New Year.

“I still think our shake was the best,” Y/N complained. Stiles nodded along slinging an arm across the back of the couch next to her head. 

“No way, Stiles put ninety percent dark chocolate in. That shit was bitter as hell. My taste buds still haven’t recovered,” you could practically see the pain in Mason’s eyes.

“I think it still tasted okay,” Y/N patted Stiles’ thigh making him jump a tad. Scott laughed at him silently. The heat from Stiles’ arm against Y/N’s neck was quite distracting for her so she barely could comprehend what he was trying to say to her. Lydia walked over to the stereo system during this and turned on some music.

“Huh? What’d ya say?” She asked. Stiles rolled his eyes and his hand rested on her shoulder further clouding her thoughts. Did he know what he did to her? Probably not he was dense as a brick. 

“I asked what your resolution is?” He repeated. She thought for a moment trying her best to gather her thoughts again.

“I want to go into the year doing something new I think,” she replied hesitantly.

“And how would that be?” Stiles asked her. He was so close she could feel his breath on her ear and neck.

“I’m not… I’m not sure yet,” she looked at her hands.

“Well good luck with that then, Y/N/N,” he said holding her hand. This was common for them, physical intimacy that was. At least PLATONIC intimacy, hand-holding, blowing kisses, etc. Nothing had ever happened between the childhood friends but they both secretly longed for each other. Pining since their freshman year for one another.

Y/N let out a sigh as Stiles leaned in close again.

“Only a minute until the New Year you better figure out that resolution of yours soon,” he laughs a lopsided grin on his face. They turned towards each other preparing for the countdown. They had agreed earlier that they’d give each other a quick peck at midnight not wanting to be left out seeing as they were basically surrounded by couples. Everyone knew their plan so they weren’t worried about kissing in front of the pair and making them feel bad or something like that. 

“Alright! Ten! Nine! Eight!” Everyone cheered.

“You still want to do this no second thoughts?” Stiles asked Y/N. She nodded quickly.

“A quick peck. In and out. Easy peasy. And then everything is back to normal,” she looked down again at their hands. Stiles frowned but it went unnoticed by Y/N.

“Five! Four! Three! Two! ONE!” 

Stiles kept his free hand by his waist unsure as to where to keep it and Y/N’s hand went to the back of his neck pulling him in. They stayed still for a moment awkwardly. The kiss was rigid and unmoving, but as Y/N’s fingers went into Stiles’ hair and they began to actually kiss Stiles’ palm rested on the side of her face and the kiss was deepened. His hand slide down her jawline and he held her tightly. Y/N’s face tilted up into his and her other hand let go of his other and she ran her hand through his hair pulling him in impossibly closer and draping her arm over his shoulder. His free hand went to the back of her head and he stroked her hair. Y/N was on fire she was burning under the soft touches of his fingertips. She burned for him.

He finally pulled away, Y/N following his head but he held her back slightly wanting to get a word in.

“You taste like strawberries,” he said airly. She laughed trying to pull back.

“You are so stupi-” He went in again cutting her off and they burnt together. Y/N’s hands fell to his cheeks and she smiled slightly.

“I only think of you,” she whispered. He hummed pushing a strand of hair out of her face. Her eyes were still closed as she relished in their closeness.

“I completed my resolution,” She said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I went into the new year doing something new didn’t I?”

“I suppose so, Y/N,” he smiled. Their friends sat staring at the pair with wide eyes.

“Finally,” Lydia rolled her eyes. Everyone agreeing.

“Oh shut up,” Y/N laughed. Stiles looked at her with adoration.

“I’m glad you chose me to go into the new year with,” he nudged her nose.

—

TAGLIST: @speedymaximoff @magnet-girl @siennanoelle01 @nani-2305​ 

Masterlist

Request~ Open

Request info

Started: 03/13/2025

Last Updated: 05/01/2025

Total Works: ?

Fluff : 💫

Angst:🥀

Smut:🔥

Stranger Things🩸✨🧇

Henry Creel

Short Imagine:

You being Jonathan's & Will's sister and Henry being obsessed with you

Long Imagine:

The secret 💫

Taking Back What’s Mine💫🥀

Never Gonna Lose Me🥀💫

Back to you/Banshee💫

Snap Out Of It🔥

Seven Wonders💫

Like Her 1 2 💫🥀

Steve Harrington

Spring Days (Requested)💫

Harry Potter⚡️👓

Barty Crouch Jr

Short Imagines:

I Beg You Don’t Embarrass Me💫

Long Imagines:

Theodore Nott

None

Hunger Games/Tbosas🏹♟️

Coriolanus Snow

Imagines

Because you love me 💫🥀

The Man Who Can't Be Moved💫

Our Dirty Little Secret 💫🔥

Tragedy In Admits of Happiness 🥀💫

Worst Fear🥀💫

A Toast🥀🥀

The Heiress Of Panem💫

Wake Up Call🥀🔥

Headcons

Cardew Reader Headcons

Series

St. Tropez

relationship Aesthetics

Oc's

prologue

Ideas

A Toast🥀

suggestions

Finnick Odair

“I’ll be in it Forever…” Coming soon...

Other🌊🐺👻

Wally Clark👻

Imagines

So High School 💫💫

Stiles Stilinski🐺

None

JJ Maybank🌊

None

Send Requests!

Masterlist

Who I Write For:

(For Now)

Henry Creel (Stranger Things)

Steve Harrington (Stranger Things)

Coriolanus Snow (Tbosas)

Finnick Odair (THG)

JJ Maybank (Outerbanks/Obx)

Barty Crouch Jr (Harry Potter)

Theodore Nott (Harry Potter)

Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

Wally Clark (School Spirits)

What I WILL write:

(Scenarios, One shot, Preferences, ect)

Fluff

Angst

Smut

Fem reader

Gen Reader

Angst w/ Happy ending

Sad endings

Yandere

Dark themes : Gore, Possiveness, If I can’t have you no one can. Stalking

What I WON’T write:

Male Reader

Ships

Threesomes +

Rape scene/ SA scenes (will mention it but will NOT write it!!)

Ok so when you said that you were throwing a brick, I didn't realize it was at my fucking heart! What the hell was that? Why must you always make me so emotional 😔

TRUTHS || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Stiles in the golden retriever, the guy who's always there for you, the one who'd do anything and everything for you. But no one's perfect, and you don't expect him to be, it just takes you some time to see Stiles' truth.

Memo— Sorry not sorry that I'm throwing this brick at you

Word Count — 967

Masterlist | Stiles' Adventures

You always thought Stiles was the good one. Not in the perfect way, not in the "straight-A student, never-does-anything-wrong" way, but in the genuine, loyal, heart-of-gold way. The guy who’d trip over himself to help a stranger, who’d give you the last piece of pizza without a second thought, who’d stay up all night researching monsters so no one else had to. And for a long time, you saw him like that—this jittery, awkward, deeply lovable hurricane of a person, always doing, always caring, always there.

And he is all that. With you? He’s golden. With Scott? He’s fiercely, stubbornly, stupidly devoted. With his dad? He’s still that kid trying to hold the world together with duct tape and caffeine so it doesn’t crush the only parent he has left.

He remembers things about you—tiny things you didn’t even think you remembered telling him. You’ll mention you had a rough day once, and three weeks later he’s showing up with your favourite snack and a dumb movie queued up because “I figured the vibes were off, and I hate when the vibes are off.” He’ll drive to your house just to sit in silence when you don’t feel like talking. He buys your favourite pens when you lose them, makes playlists for your moods, sets reminders to check in on things that matter to you. It’s not just that he’s nice—it’s that he’s invested.

With Scott, it’s a kind of brotherhood that’s almost religious. He’ll talk shit, yeah, but the second anyone else does? He’s up. Instantly. Doesn’t matter if it’s someone stronger, bigger, more dangerous—Stiles has already calculated the fallout and decided it’s worth it. He’ll complain the whole time, but he’ll never back down if Scott needs him. Even when Scott doesn’t say it out loud. Especially then.

With his dad, it’s this complicated mix of reverence and protectiveness. He pushes boundaries, sure, but there’s always a line he won’t cross. He teases and rolls his eyes, but you’ve seen the way he watches the sheriff’s face when he walks into a room, always scanning for stress, exhaustion, signs of something off. He cooks dinner when his dad works late. He cleans the house on autopilot without being asked. He never says it, but he carries that family like it’s his personal mission to keep it afloat.

But the thing is… once you’re close enough to really know him—past the surface, past the quick wit and loyalty—you start to see the edges. The parts no one really talks about.

Stiles is not actually nice. Not to most people. He’s polite when he needs to be, friendly when it serves a purpose, but if you’re not in his circle? If you’re not one of his people? He doesn't care. At all.

He doesn’t make small talk. He doesn’t go out of his way to help unless someone he loves is involved. You’ve seen him ignore people mid-sentence because they were boring him. He gets impatient fast, and once he decides someone’s not worth his energy, he doesn’t even try to hide it.

He’s not mean in the obvious, stereotypical way. It’s subtle. Calculated. He knows how to cut people down without raising his voice. He uses sarcasm like a scalpel, and if someone’s unlucky enough to get on his bad side, he doesn’t yell—he eviscerates.

One time, a classmate made a shitty comment about Scott’s mom. Stiles didn’t lash out. Didn’t even react at first. Just filed it away. And two days later, he dropped a series of comments in a group setting so casually devastating that the kid left school early and didn’t show up the next day. Stiles didn’t even blink. “Shouldn’t talk shit if you’re made of glass,” he muttered, like it was nothing.

And when people call him out? He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t apologize. Just shrugs and moves on. It’s like he doesn’t feel the need to justify being cold to people who aren’t inside his carefully constructed world.

And maybe you should care about that. Maybe you should find it concerning. But you don’t.

Because you’ve never been on the receiving end of it. Never once.

When you’re sad, he’s gentle. When you’re angry, he lets you rage. When you’re happy, he celebrates you, like your joy is a personal victory. He touches you in these thoughtless, casual ways that are so full of care—fingers brushing yours when he passes you something, knees bumping under the table, an arm slung lazily across your shoulders like he’s grounding himself by just being near you.

You’ve seen him lose sleep over you being sick. Seen him unravel when you cried. Seen him light up when you walked into a room like the world had just snapped back into colour.

He tells you things he doesn’t tell anyone else. Fears. Regrets. Doubts. There’s a soft version of Stiles that lives only in your presence, one who trusts you enough to be quiet, who lets himself need.

And you think—that’s the real difference. Stiles doesn’t trust easy. He’s not generous with his softness. The world has taken too much from him too many times, and now? He doesn’t give pieces of himself to people who won’t hold them carefully.

But for the ones he loves—for you, for Scott, for his dad—he gives everything.

So yeah. He’s kind of a mean guy. Kind of petty. Sharp-tongued. Impatient. Defensive.

But he’s also the guy who would crawl through hell if it meant dragging you out of it. Who shows up even when he’s exhausted. Who notices everything, remembers everything, loves with the kind of intensity that’s messy and complicated and real.

He’s not perfect. Not even close.

But you never needed perfect.

You just needed him.

AH I'm so excited! What an absolutely adorable snippet 💜

Hey guys, I finally got it to work. Turns out Tumblr was throwing a hissy fit if I tried to put any text indented :(

So, condensing everything I had to say: I'm posting a fic later today, I'm posting an April plans despite how late it is, and I'm also posting a snippet of the fic I'm posting here.

Anyway, here's the snippet. I hope you like it (also, it's part of a flashback so have fun guessing what the actual fic is about <3).

Snippet below

Your blades hit the ice with a sharp little scrape, and for a second, you wobbled—just enough to make you stumble forward a step and throw your arms out. The cold shot straight up through the soles of the rentals, settling in your knees, your spine. But then balance returned, muscle memory catching up, and you pushed forward with one foot, gliding out toward the center.

Stiles saw you before you could call out.

His head whipped up so fast it was a wonder his neck didn’t snap, and he immediately started flailing his way toward you, half-skating, half-praying to the friction gods that he didn’t go down in front of everyone. His cheeks were already pink from the cold, but they deepened into something bright and blooming the second you met his eyes.

“You made it!” he called, way too loud, like the music and noise and chaos had vanished and he just needed to fill the space between you with his voice.

You grinned. “You sound surprised.”

“I was surprised!” he said as he skidded up next to you, arms wheeling a little before he caught his balance. “I—I thought you weren’t coming. You weren’t answering your phone, and I thought maybe—maybe your mom bailed or like, you got kidnapped on the way here or something or I don’t know, fell into a Christmas tree lot and froze to death because that happens, and—”

“Dude,” Scott’s voice came from somewhere behind him, amused and exasperated in equal measure. “You’ve been doing this for the last twenty minutes. Let 'em say hi.”

You caught Scott looping around with a smooth turn, skating backwards effortlessly like he was auditioning for the Olympics. He winked at you and then made a face at Stiles, mimicking the nonstop motion of his mouth with one hand.

Stiles looked back at him, scowled, then whipped around to face you again.

“I’m just saying, okay?” he huffed, arms crossed now, chin tucked down defensively. “You didn’t answer your phone and I know you said you’d try, but like, you never just not text, and I thought maybe—well. Never mind.” His voice dropped at the end, losing steam.

You softened immediately, reaching out to gently tug on the hem of his sleeve. “Hey. I had to catch a cab last minute. Spent the last of my allowance on it, too.”

Stiles’ eyes went wide. “You did not.”

You shrugged. “You guys are worth it.”

That shut him up. At least, for a beat. His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again—but nothing came out.

Scott skated by in a tight circle, doing a ridiculous spin that earned him a loud “show-off!” from a random teen nearby.

“Let me guess,” you said, watching him skate off with mock suspicion. “He’s been doing that since you got here.”

“Ugh, yes,” Stiles groaned. “The second he realized he was good at skating, he’s been all ‘look at me, I’m a majestic deer’ or whatever.”

You barked a laugh and leaned in slightly, bumping your shoulder into Stiles. “You’re not doing so bad yourself, Stilinski.”

He flushed deeper, and for a second he looked like he was going to say something cocky—but then he caught the slight curve of your smirk, and all the wind left his sails.

“I missed you,” he blurted instead. “Like. A lot.”

You smiled, and it must’ve shown in your eyes, because his ears went red.

“I missed you too,” you said, your voice a little quieter now.

He blinked rapidly and then made a weird noise that was probably meant to be a casual laugh but sounded more like he was choking on his own tongue. You giggled, skating around him once in a loose circle, and then held out your hand.

“Come on,” you teased. “Before Scott starts spinning so fast he creates a vortex and takes out a bunch of third graders.”

“You’re assuming that wouldn’t be hilarious,” Stiles muttered, but he took your hand anyway, fingers clumsy in his gloves, grip tight like he was worried he’d fall right through the ice if he didn’t hold on.

You tugged him forward, and he followed without resistance, grinning and unsteady and full of energy like he didn’t know how to hold it all in. He slipped once or twice, cursed loudly, clutched your arm, then laughed so hard he nearly dragged you down with him. And through it all, you just kept your hand in his and skated a little slower, steady and solid, just enough to keep him upright.

Scott whooped somewhere across the rink, executing a wobbly jump that made a kid scream and his mom glare.

“See?” you said, laughing. “Vortex. I warned you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, cheeks pink and glowing. “Whatever. If we get pulled into a black hole of Christmas-themed ice death, I’m glad it’s with you.”

You tightened your grip on his hand and squeezed.

“Same, Stilinski.”

Hii! How's dairy queen Stiles doing!?

Hi! He's good, but he's anxiously waiting to see a certain someone again...

A little drabble based on the Dairy Queen!Stiles AU.

Word count: 291

Stiles never thought he'd be excited to go work at a fast-food restaurant, but his entire world was flipped last week when he met an angel.

He wakes up before his alarm, something he's never experienced before, but he's not upset about it because he can use this time to search every corner of the internet for the mystery girl. There's only so many people living in Beacon Hills; he's bound to find her eventually.

Yes, he knows she has a boyfriend - Victor, or whatever, but after watching them interact, he doesn't imagine they'll last very long. He hopes not, at least.

The minutes seem to pass like hours at work. He spends his downtime conspicuously gazing out of the windows, hoping he'll catch a glimpse of her hair or something, anything. His head whips over to the door every time the bell rings, signaling a customer's arrival. Just those seconds of distraction are enough for disaster to strike - just what he needs, more messes. He remakes drinks, refills cartons of fries, and mops up puddles of ice cream even more often than usual.

The whole process is frustrating, but he's getting increasingly slick to avoid more angry rants from the manager. His acting skills have improved greatly, though he's sure his smile is looking faker as the days go on.

When he finally goes home and collapses in his bed for the night, his dreams are filled with fantasies of beating the shit out of that douchbag boyfriend and spending peaceful, romantic moments with the angel he can't wait to see again (mostly the latter). He knows it's possible that he never will, but he also knows that if he does, it'll be absolutely magical, just like the first time.

Here's a little pep talk from Stiles 💜:

"Hey... Hey, look at me. Life sucks, I know. It's horrible. It's a big, ugly, mean monster with sharp teeth and a really bad comb-over and- ok, I'm getting off-topic, sorry. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that there's probably always going to be something bad happening, but there will also always be something good.

"No, no, don't look away. Eyes up here, remember? There we go. Much better. So, like I was saying, there's good stuff out there too. It can be hard to find, especially these days, but it's there. Just... take a moment to look for it. Take a nice, long, deep breath, and look around for a second. It doesn't have to be anything crazy. Maybe the wind is blowing in your favor to show off how hot you are, I don't know. It could be anything.

"And in really dire situations, because, yeah, there's plenty of those around here, look inside yourself. I know it's scary, I don't like doing it either. But the more you do it, the easier it'll get. Start small. Like... What's one thing you tolerate about yourself? You don't have to love it or like it, it's just something you're ok with. You've come to terms with its existence.

"Then, move on to something you do like. Even just a little bit. Come on, don't look at me like that! You're smarter than you think you are, there's gotta be a bunch of things. Alright, it's ok if there's not yet, but there will be eventually! We'll work on that.

"Now, as much as I love giving you all the love in my heart, you gotta give yourself some of the love you have in your heart too. I can't take all the credit, that would be greedy. Besides, have you seen yourself!? My God, I could pass out at any second, I'm serious! And even if you aren't vibing with the physical stuff, you have so many lovable qualities and talents that blow my mind every single day. You're not a useless blob of goo, ok? You're beautiful - inside and out - and special. You're very precious to me and so many others, even if they don't tell as often as they should.

"You're doing great, I promise. You're trying, that's all we can do, you know? Everything's gonna be ok. Well, eventually. It might seem like forever, but it'll happen, I know it. I love you so much."

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.

I'm passing away from my cramps right now so let me just make it known that Stiles would be the best cuddler when his girlfriend is on her period.

We all know that he gives great hugs and loves to snuggle, but his attention to detail really shines when his girl is in pain. He knows exactly what to do to help depending on what kind of pain she's in.

If her cramps are in front, right by her belly button, he'll lay behind her curled-up form, gently placing his hand on the affected area, which acts as a biological heating pad of sorts.

In the opposite scenario, where her cramps creep to her lower back (literally me right now), he'll let her bury her face into his chest while his arms wrap around her to allow his fingers to carefully massage those tender muscles.

He will happily stay there for as long as she wants and needs, or move so she can switch to a different position. He doesn't mind, only wanting her to be as comfortable as humanly possible, despite all the"disrespect", as Stiles would say, her body is giving her.

Anyway, the moral of the story is that the boy knows how to take care of his girl, and boy oh boy do I wish that I was that girl right now.

I'm about to go to bed, I can't take this heartache right now - I just can't.

stiles misses you

a/n: i have no excuse for this except i’m on my period and i love crying. this can be interpreted as the reader is dead or they broke up, whichever makes you cry more. xoxo 🫶🏻

stiles misses you.

he misses the sweet scent of your perfume when he walks past you and the lingering daze he’d be in from looking at you. he misses the saccharine smiles you’d give him and the playful ones you’d respond with when he winked at you in class. he misses the color of your hair and the way it shone in the sun like a beacon signaling home. he misses the sparkle in your eyes when you finally figure out something that’s been bugging you.

he misses the sound of your laughter, bright as bells and unapologetic, echoing through the halls and in his brain and how it was so much more intoxicating when he was the one who made you laugh. he misses your kind words, the gentleness in your tone and the way you can make anything sound sweet. he misses how you’d comfort him when he cried and whenever he had a bad day, rubbing soothing circles into his back and quiet murmurs of reassurance.

he misses the familiar sound of your voice, the way he hears it first out of every sound that goes through his adhd-riddled brain. he misses hearing your voice and knowing everything would be okay because you’re here and you’re safe and you’re all that matters to him.

he even misses the way that you fight. riding in silence in his jeep until you can’t take it anymore and yelling until you can’t breathe until you finally give in to one another and have it out the way you need to. whether it’s harsh or disappointing or all-consuming heartache, he misses all of the feelings you give him.

he misses your heartbeat. the steady sound of it pounding in his ears as his head lays across your chest and your fingers thread through his hair as you hum softly to him. he misses the constant calmness that comes with you being around when he’s alone, mind racing with anything and everything that won’t let him sleep at night.

he misses your clothes, the ones you’d leave around his house after sleepovers or just in case you ever needed an outfit replacement after some supernatural horror ruined yours. he misses the way they smell like you because the ones he has are beginning to fade and he’s afraid he’ll forget what that smell is. the smell of home.

he misses driving around beacon hills with you in the middle of the night when you’re stuck doing werewolf patrol, the silly games you’d play and the way you’d make up some outlandish rules to twist the odds in your favor.

he misses the way he always had someone on his side, how you would always believe him no matter what anyone said or did. you always held firm in your belief that stiles was right. he misses having someone to stick up for him about his ideas and having someone in his corner, rain or shine, right or wrong. he misses the feeling of togetherness, of being half of a whole.

stiles misses your stupid texts, the ones you’d send him while bored in class, not caring if you got caught and had your phone taken away. he misses the heart emoji you’d always put at the end of every one as a reminder that you loved him. he misses the texts in the middle of the night about questions neither of you can answer, whether philosophical or entirely improbable. he misses the way you’d text him good morning and how you’d always text him to make sure he got home okay.

he misses the hours-long phone calls talking about everything that was going on in your world, supernatural or not, good or bad. he misses being able to say whatever he wants to say without fear of judgement or apprehension. he misses the stretches of silence that come after you fall asleep on the phone together, your voice slurring as you fight sleep but you don’t want to hang up because you just want him. he misses knowing that you’re on the other end of the line, always waiting for him.

he misses you so bad that it chokes him, hot tears on his pillow as he looks at the picture of you two that he keeps on his nightstand. he misses you so bad he can’t breathe through the pained sobs that plague him every night, holding onto the pillow you used to use when you slept over, trying to cling to the memories that are starting to fade.

stiles misses you.

Cute

I'm a little late, but here's more of the twins, Stiles and Stuart Stilinski! And bis thanks to @darkintothedawn for the inspiration! I couldn't have done it without your phenomenal ideas!

Word Count: 965

She couldn’t remember falling asleep, nor how she ended up so perfectly snuggled between her two favorite boys. She did, however, know exactly who was who, just by feeling them breathe against her. Stuart was lying on his back, his arm bent so that his hand held the back of his neck, creating the perfect nook for her head to rest on his chest. Her arm was already wrapped around his waist when she instinctively pulled him closer. Stiles, being the more deliberate twin, was behind her, spooning her and keeping her in a tight embrace while his nose stayed buried in her hair.  

When the three of them began dating, snuggling was sometimes more comparable to a cold war: no physical attacks, but verbal arguments and even threats about who should be where and what positions they should lay in. The poor girl had to be the mediator, begging them to compromise somewhere in the middle for her sake. They had been whipped since they first met her, so it’s no surprise that they listened, although somewhat begrudgingly.  

At this point, they have nearly mastered the art of going with the flow or, in other words, letting her get comfortable first, and then sliding in on either side, always taking turns facing her. Many things are like this in their relationship since their circumstances are somewhat unusual. 

As if on cue, they both lifted their heads to look at her and she looked between them in turn.  

“There she is,” Stiles said with an adoring grin. 

“It’s about time,” quipped Stuart. 

The last time she was conscious, Stiles was driving them back to their house after their date at the zoo. Seeing her beam about each animal as they wandered through the park ignited more love in their hearts for her. There wasn’t a single thing she could do that wouldn’t make them ruminate on her excessive amounts of ‘cuteness’, as they say. Apparently, all of that walking and enthusing tuckered her out, because she was out like a light, slumped against Stuart’s shoulder in the backseat. She figured one of them must have carried her inside and upstairs. 

“What time is it anyway?” she said before yawning. 

Stuart glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “Almost eight.” His fingers traced random patterns on her arm, still wrapped around his waist. 

“Wow. I’ve been asleep this whole time?” 

“Yeah, it’s very cute,” Stiles said, nuzzling into her hair blissfully. 

“Again, with the ‘cute’ thing? Aren’t there any other words you can use to describe me?” As of recently, she’d been growing tired of their teasing insistence. ‘Cute’ was basically their new favorite word. 

“Nope. You’re cute, it’s time to accept it,” Stiles stated simply. 

“I’m not rejecting it!” 

“Yes, you are. And it’s not very nice,” Stuart added. 

She couldn’t believe they turned this onto her, yet again! The few times they actually work together are spent teasing her. Not when she asks them to stop bickering about nonsense, no, that would be too easy. They just have to throw a wrench in the works. 

“What!? How am I not being nice?” she exclaimed. 

“You know exactly how. Don’t try to act all innocent.” Stiles was too sly for anyone’s good. 

“I’m not-” 

“Oh, come on. We all know what you’re doing,” interjected Stuart. “You’re fishing for compliments! You know, your greed is gonna catch up with you eventually.” He wore a poker face that was convincing enough to make her face flush, turning rosy. 

Stiles lifted his head and caught a glimpse her warm pout and chuckled, saying, “Oh, don’t do that, you know we’re just messing with you.” 

“Whatever. I’m hungry.” 

“So that’s why you’re so grumpy,” Stuart started, but stopped and furrowed his eyebrows when he felt her begin to release herself from their holds. “Wait, where are you going?” He and Stiles both tightened their grasps. 

“To the kitchen. I’m hungry.” Her repeated words were blunt because, to her, it was obvious. 

“Woah, wait a damn minute, you can’t leave yet!” Stiles said. 

“Why not?” She narrowed her eyes at him, looking behind her. 

“Because.” 

“Because? That’s it?” 

“Yes!” he asserted. 

“What he means,” Stuart glared at his twin, “is that we... uh... really, really don’t want you to.” He wore a pained expression, knowing full well that his reasoning was probably only hurting their cause, and Stiles gave him the death stare right back. 

She sighed, beginning to move again, and he knew this meant he only had one choice left. “Ok, ok, we’re sorry, we’re sorry... Please don’t get up. Seriously.” He paused to think, then continued, "Hey, how about you stay here, and someone brings food to you?” 

The girl smiled slightly and began to relax into the bed again. “Alright. I can agree to that.” 

Stiles’ face lit up. “Perfect! Stuart will go.” 

Stuart’s eyes widened with rage. That scheming bastard! he thought, and he sat up with malintent radiating off of him, causing Stiles to practically duck, burying his face in her hair yet again. He huffed, knowing that he can’t beat his brother’s ass when their girlfriend is anywhere near him; he would not take that risk.  

He took a couple of seconds to relax (for now, he’d get his revenge after she went home), then leaned down to press a sweet kiss to her forehead. “Anything for the cutest girl in the world.” 

Seeing her soft smile almost made the trip downstairs worth it, but he knew tackling Stiles and throwing him down those same stairs later would cure him.  

As soon as Stuart left the room, Stiles pulled her impossibly closer, relishing in the few moments of alone time. 

“You know Stuart is going to kill you, right?” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

Stiles Stilinski valentine’s day💌💐

✮⋆˙ Stiles would show up to your house and knock on the door before you’ve even woken up. He’s just too excited to spend this whole day that he’s planned. ✮⋆˙

✮⋆˙ He’s come over with your favourite breakfast, drink and a bunch of flowers. His bag filled with all your gifts and cards. ✮⋆˙

✮⋆˙ The day is a simple day but tailored to you. Your favourite lunch, he’s got it. Your favourite place, you’ll be there. Whether that be the arcade, aquarium or even a museum he is taking you and paying for the whole thing. ✮⋆˙

✮⋆˙ Of course he brought you lego to do. A shared interest between you too. The lego flowers were made together. The star wars lego you bought him was built together too. ✮⋆˙

✮⋆˙ The day ended in you and him cuddled up in bed watching some movie he let you choose. Eating and drinking your favourite food that he bought you.✮⋆˙

JJ Maybank and Spencer Reid coming soon…

This is so adorable, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? AAAAHHH 💜

first kiss

s1!stiles stilinski x gf!reader

creds: roseraris for dividers!

you were perched on stiles’ bed, watching him pace back and forth across his room, his hand moving animatedly as he talked about the latest werewolf drama involving scott.

the police radio scanner on his desk crackled with static, and his wall was covered in red string and newspaper clippings - his latest attempt to piece together all the supernatural happenings in beacon hills.

“and then scott practically wolfed out in the middle of practice!” stiles exclaimed, running a hand through his short hair.

“like dude, we talked about this! control! but no, apparently catching greenberg’s crossbody was worth risking exposure to the entire lacrosse team!”

you couldnt help but smile at his sarcasm. this was classic stiles - all nervous energy and rapid-fire words, trying to keep his best friend alove while maintaining some semblance of normalcy in their increasingly bizarre lives.

“stiles,” you said, trying to interrupt his rambling to no avail. “stiles!”

he stopped mid-gesture, turning to look at you with those warm brown eyes that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. “yeah?”

“come sit down before you wear a hole in your floor.” he glanced down at the path he’d been treading, then shuffled over to sit beside you, his knee bouncing with restless energy.

“sorry, i just… there’s so much happening, y’know? between scott’s furry little problem and trying to figure out who the alpha is, and my dad’s cases, and-“

“and you’re carrying all the weight of it.” you finished softly, placing your hand over his fidgeting ones.

stiles fell quiet, a rare occurrence that made you look at him more closely. his eyes were fixed on where your hands touched, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“how do you do that?” he asked suddenly.

“do what?”

“just… know exactly what to say? how to calm me down?” he turned his hend over to lace his fingers with yours.

“you’re like my personal adderall, except, y’know, prettier and less medical.” you laughed, feeling your cheeks warm.

“did you just compare me to you ADHD medication?”

“i did, didnt i?” stiles groaned, his free hand coming up to cover his face.

“that was supposed to be romantic. in my head, it was definitely more romantic. can we pretend i said something smooth instead? like, i dunno, ‘you’re the moon to my werewolf’ — wait no, that’s worse, that’s definitely worse—“

you cut off his rambling the only way you could think of – by leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. for a moment, stiles froze, and you could practically hear his brain short-circuiting.

then his hand came up to cup your cheek, and he was kissing you back with all the pent-up energy he usually put into solving supernatural mysteries.

when you pulled away, stiles blinked at you several times, his mouth opening and closing without sound – another rare occurrence.

"did you just—" he started.

"kiss you? Yeah."

"and I—"

"kissed me back? also yeah." a grin slowly spread across his face, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"that was... wow. that was awesome. can we do that again? we should definitely do that again. like, right now. or whenever you want. im free for the next, like, forever—"

this time when you kissed him, you were both smiling too much for it to be perfect, but somehow that made it even better.

the police scanner crackled again in the background, and somewhere in beacon hills, scott was probably getting into more werewolf-related trouble, but for now, none of that mattered.

stiles pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "just so we're clear," he whispered, "this means you like me, right? because i really like you, and it would be super awkward if—"

"stiles?"

"yeah?"

"we’ve been dating for 6 months."

"oh yeah… cool," he breathed, then immediately cringed.

"i mean, not cool like 'whatever' cool, but cool like 'this is the best thing ever' cool, and im going to stop talking now because im pretty sure im ruining the moment, and—"

you silenced him with another quick kiss, and felt him smile against your lips.

"you know," he said when you separated, "i think i just found my new favorite way to be shut up."

the police scanner suddenly burst to life with his dad's voice reporting a disturbance downtown, and stiles' eyes lit up with that familiar mix of curiosity and excitement.

"want to go investigate a potentially supernatural crime scene with me?" he asked, already reaching for his keys.

you laughed, standing up and pulling him with you. "only you would think that's a romantic second kiss location."

"hey, i contain multitudes," he protested, but his grin was infectious as he led you toward his jeep.

and just like that, life in beacon hills continued – only now with the added bonus of being able to kiss your adorably sarcastic boyfriend whenever he started rambling about werewolves.

Effort for Love ❤️

Word count: 1,078

Happy Valentine's Day!

Stiles had it all planned out. It was going to be the best Valentine’s Day ever. It had to be; it was their first spent together as a couple. Some (Isaac) might say he was taking it too seriously, but he strongly disagreed. It was his duty to make his girlfriend feel as special and loved as possible.

With a big smile, he drove to the surprise destination, stubbornly refusing to answer all of her questions. She was radiating with excitement in the passenger seat – she had never had someone so dedicated to her happiness. It took all of her strength not to peek under the blanket in the backseat which was clearly hiding a menagerie of items for their date.

She was giddy, and seeing that on her face made Stiles giddy too. He did that. He was the one who was making her feel that way. And knowing that was the best feeling in the world. 

“Can I at least get a hint or something? I need to mentally prepare!” 

“Absolutely not. And don’t worry about mentally preparing, you’ll be very relaxed, I promise.” Stiles spoke with a calm yet adamant voice, though he couldn’t ignore his nerves. This was a big moment for him.  

“Oh, I’ll be relaxed? Does this mean there’s a massage in my future?” she teased. 

He smirked. “Maybe later if your gift is as good as I think it’s going to be.” He glanced at the neatly wrapped box sitting in her lap, filled with all of his favorite goodies and the new video game disk he’s had his eye on for his Xbox. She knows him better than he’d like to admit. 

“Well, I guess we both just have to wait and find out then.” 

“I guess so.” 

The next ten or so minutes were peaceful, their chatting and laughter filled the air. That was until an unsettling screech made a bold interruption. Before they knew it, the Jeep was slowing down. Stiles instinctively pulled off the mostly empty highway.  See, he took a route that he knew she wouldn’t recognize, one that most wouldn’t take on a holiday because it leads away from town and past all the popular scenic spots. 

The poor guy was trying not to panic. He had just recently gotten major work done on the vehicle, so watching it break down yet again was beyond frustrating. He put it in park and stepped out with a huff, closing the door with a little bit more force than he meant to. Steam flowed from the front of the Jeep as he lifted the hood, making him cough a couple of times. 

Seeing his anger and devastation as he cursed out his car was worrying for his girlfriend. She knew that he had spent over a week planning this, but she started to truly realize how much he truly wanted to do this for her as she, too, stepped out, making her way to his side. 

“Stiles-” 

He shook his head, looking at her with sincere remorse as he interjected. “No, look, I’m sorry. I know you were excited and this kind of ruins everything I had planned, but we could try again another day, you know? We could have another Valentine’s Day next week and just forget everything-” 

She couldn’t believe what he was saying. Yes, he had always been hard on himself, but this was just ridiculous. “What? No. Stiles, I don’t care if it’s not perfect or not exactly how you planned, weren’t not just going to throw it all away. We still have time; we still have the whole evening.” 

“Yeah, but we’re not going to make it to the beach in time for sunset and a tow truck could take hours, maybe all night!” he blurted, his frustration at the situation still growing. 

Warmth filled her cheeks and a soft smile grew on her face. “You were taking me to the beach for the sunset?” she said delicately. Her heart had never felt so full. 

“Yes,” he sighed. His hand then gestured toward the still steaming Jeep as he spoke, saying, “Yeah, I was… Until this stupid piece of-” 

“You’re the most adorable, romantic, sweet, and loving man in the world.” Her words were filled with such sincerity that Stiles froze, his face turning to the same rosy red as hers. 

“Wha-… Really? You’re not, like, mad or something?” For some incomprehensible reason, he was struggling to believe the situation at hand. How could she be so understanding? Why was she so calm? And smiling? What the hell was going on? 

“Of course I’m not mad,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Why would I be mad when I have the world’s perfect boyfriend all to myself on Valentine’s Day?” 

He was faltering, his hands barely making contact with her waist. “I’m not perfect…” 

Her lips were firmly pressed against his instantly. “Shut up. Yes, you are.” 

Stiles was floating, a nervous, blushing mess. How did he get so lucky? 

After a little more convincing, Stiles agreed to go through with his plan on the side of the highway instead of the beach since they were still miles away. He made his girlfriend wait in the passenger seat with her eyes closed (he was very firm about that) while he moved the blanket from the backseat to the pavement and set up the red candles, red and pink flowers, sandwiches he made himself, and boxes of chocolates for dessert.  

The scene in front of her when she opened her eyes was straight out of a romance movie. She was practically speechless as she moved towards the blanket to sit with her beau, both of them grinning uncontrollably. The evening turned out to be the most magical moment imaginable, beginning with a call with the towing company, of course. They spent the five-hour wait basking in the love they had for each other and the sunset that still made an appearance.  

When it became too cold to sit outside any longer, they packed up and sat in the Jeep again, where Stiles opened his gift with glee. He nearly crushed her ribcage with the bear hug he gave her. And yes, it earned her a massage, of sorts, in the backseat.  

Curled up against each other under the blanket, they exchanged handwritten love letters and read them out loud to each other, closing their very romantic date with a loving bang.

How do you think stiles would react to finding out his gf was cheated on in the past?

He gets busy and forgets to let her know he’ll be late to their movie night and she immediately assumes the worst and he’s shocked to find her upset and self conscious and insecure when he finally makes it home.

I bet he would feel so bad even though he genuinely didn’t do anything. He would be absolutely flabbergasted that anyone would dare step out on her. He would probably even get genuinely angry at the idiot when she tells the full story.

Oh my gosh, this is so sad yet sweet at the same time!

Since he doesn't already know that she was cheated on, walking in to see her in tears and unable to keep eye contact with him would be beyond confusing and concerning for him. He'd rush over to her, immediately wanting to hold her and talk everything out, asking what was wrong, only to painfully watch her take a step back from him.

"Where were you, Stiles? Where the hell were you?" she'd sob out, keeping a cautious hand between them.

He'd be thrown off by the question, not expecting an interrogation and stuttering his words out. "I-I was just helping Scott with a lead after practice, that's it, I swear..."

"Call him." she'd order, trying to sound like she has a grip on the situation, but her insecurity is evident.

"What?"

"Call him!" At this point, she's desperate, needing certainty and concrete proof that he's telling the truth.

Stiles almost jumps, still so confused about why she's so upset. "Ok, ok, I'm calling him right now. See?" He takes his phone out of his pocket and turns it so she can see what he's doing. He calls Scott right away.

Without giving him any context or revealing her presence, Stiles asks him to tell him all about their previous whereabouts. Scott speaks casually and simply but is clearly lost on why he's doing this. However, she knows he's telling the truth because he's not really known for his lying abilities...

Stiles hangs up right after she gets her proof. "There. Do you believe me now? Or can you at least tell me what's wrong? I hate seeing you like this, you know I hate it when y-" He stops at the feeling of her body practically crashing into his as she clings to him tightly, letting a few more soft sobs out. His mind goes blank for a second before he gets his bearings and wraps his arms around her in a firm embrace. "Hey... It's ok. I got you. Just talk to me. What's going on?"

With a shaky voice, she tells him everything. Certain details are harder to get out than others, so at some point, Stiles leads them to the couch, still holding her close as she curls up against his chest.

Empathizing with people can be hard for Stiles sometimes, but never with his sweet angel. A menagerie of emotions swirls inside of him as he listens to her well - guilt, anger, disgust, sympathy, protectiveness, the list goes on and on.

He gently holds her face in his hands, looking straight into her eyes as he makes her a promise to never do anything horrible like that to her, to never show her any disrespect, to always be faithful to her, and to always let her know if he'll be running late from then on.

Still cradling her against him, they decide to watch something innocent and peaceful, and land on Bambi. Stiles will never admit it, but he teared up at the mother's death, squeezing her even tighter. Thankfully, she fell asleep before the movie ended

Thank you so much for your submission! I'm pretty sure I switched tenses halfway through, but I am far too tired to reread and edit this... My apologies, we'll all just have to deal with it. 💜

Dairy Queen Dream

Word count: 1,030

I'm so sorry that this took me so long to write, but here it finally is! Big thanks to @sleepyminyard for the encouragement! I'm considering making a second part someday, but I'll let you guys decide. Also, if you've seen American Assassin, I used Victor's name and description (kinda) from that movie to help myself visualize better. My sincerest apologies for the slight angst, but I hope you enjoy!

Stiles walked into work with a sigh. He was officially an employee of Dairy Queen for a whole week, though it already felt like it had been a year. He thought working at a fast-food establishment would be easy; he was wrong. Training nearly killed him, thanks to that stupid ice cream machine. Maybe it was his clumsiness that made using it such a struggle, but he believed the thing had it out for him. If his Jeep wasn’t in grave shambles and didn’t require every penny he had, he might consider walking away and finding some other job. But alas, Dairy Queen was a necessary evil. 

He supposed it was sort of fun sometimes. He enjoyed discreetly tossing a few bits of candy into his mouth now and then, and talking to the costumers in the drive-thru with the headset made him feel like he was receiving orders from his captain on a spaceship.  

However, he already had six little burns on his poor fingers from the fry oil, and he accidentally exploded another blizzard yesterday – the fourth one thus far. The manager gave him a warning, but they both knew that Beacon Hills’ DQ was quite understaffed. They needed him, or someone like him. Stiles was the only applicant in many months.  

Hearing the bell above the door chime, signaling that another customer was entering, he made his way over to the counter, not paying any attention to what was in front of him. “Welcome to Dairy Queen. What can I get for y-” Stiles froze as his eyes made contact with hers.  

Just looking at her made his face flush, turning a deep red, and his hands suddenly felt clammy. He had never seen someone with such pure beauty. Every little detail pierced him as his gaze took her in. She was almost overwhelming.  

Her smile at the awkward moment reeled him back in and he cleared his throat, blinking a few times. “Sorry, uh... How can I help you?” 

As she gave him her order with that euphonious voice, he felt dizzy. And when the blizzard she asked for was the exact same as his favorite (since he was five years old), he almost felt out of breath. He couldn’t stop the grin that formed on his face. Stiles was smitten! 

He could see it all, right then and there: the sparkling ring he’d put on her finger, the long white dress she’d wear, the quaint home they’d live in together, the fuzzy puppy they’d adopt. Everything would’ve been perfect. Until he watched painfully as a tall, well-built, Ryan Gosling lookalike wrapped an arm around her waist and began listing his order too.  

A pit formed in Stiles’ stomach, making him nauseous. He knew nothing about the guy, yet he already hated him. He unknowingly blocked out everything he said, too busy with the jealousy that began to spark inside of him.  

He rubbed his forehead, trying to get his bearings. “Um, what was that?” 

An annoyed sigh left the ‘man’ before he recited his order again: the most disgusting concoction Stiles had ever heard. Yep, he definitely hated him.  

Stiles stared at him from around the corner as he made his blizzard, s He was too consumed to notice his hands drifting away from the mixer, causing ice cream to splatter everywhere, including all over him. “Fuck, not again...” he muttered, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in frustration. The only bright side was that it wasn’t her blizzard that exploded.  

That stupid guy had the nerve to look over and laugh, pointing a finger at poor Stiles. “Oh shit! Is it baby’s first day? Do you need a napkin?” he mocked, followed by more obnoxious laughter. 

Holding back because he knew his manager was in his office, Stiles bit his lip. To his surprise, a voice did come through to defend him. 

“Knock it off, Victor. He’s just trying to do his job.” The angel of a girl stepped in front of him and urged him to take a seat in one of the booths. She then looked back at Stiles and gave him a sweet, sympathetic smile, which he returned. “I’m really sorry about him.” 

“It’s alright. I’d probably laugh too.” 

“Maybe, but that wasn’t just a laugh...” She lowered her voice as she continued, embarrassed by her boyfriend’s actions, “That was an outburst.” 

Stiles suddenly felt horrible for her. The look on her face showed that this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, and the guilt she clearly felt wasn’t fair. Everything inside of him told him to hop over the counter and save her – run away with her, hug her close, and make her feel safe, loved, and appreciated. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option, and Victor looked like he could knock him out with one good punch. 

“Hey, really, it’s ok. Don’t feel bad on his behalf.” 

Her smile partially returned. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure he gives you a good tip.” 

“Alright, I’m looking forward to it,” he said, chuckling. 

With that, Stiles quickly wiped up what he could and made a new blizzard for the douchebag, this time without making a massive mess and a fool of himself. Once all of their order was together, he carried the trays to their table, making sure to flip both of the blizzards. He completely ignored Victor’s existence and focused on the beautiful smiling angel instead.  

Walking away was harder than he thought it would be. In the short amount of time since he met her, he somehow grew attached to her. He couldn’t explain why or how, but he knew he felt something strong for her.  

He decided that watching her enjoy a meal with that scum was too much for him to bear, so he went on his lunch break and got some fresh air outside. He hoped that he’d at least see her lovely face one more time before they left, but when he came back inside, they were gone, just a crumpled ten-dollar bill left in their place, and his heart cracked. Stiles had no idea if he’d ever see her again, but he certainly hoped so.  

Dairy Queen Dream

Word count: 1,030

I'm so sorry that this took me so long to write, but here it finally is! Big thanks to @sleepyminyard for the encouragement! I'm considering making a second part someday, but I'll let you guys decide. Also, if you've seen American Assassin, I used Victor's name and description (kinda) from that movie to help myself visualize better. My sincerest apologies for the slight angst, but I hope you enjoy!

Stiles walked into work with a sigh. He was officially an employee of Dairy Queen for a whole week, though it already felt like it had been a year. He thought working at a fast-food establishment would be easy; he was wrong. Training nearly killed him, thanks to that stupid ice cream machine. Maybe it was his clumsiness that made using it such a struggle, but he believed the thing had it out for him. If his Jeep wasn’t in grave shambles and didn’t require every penny he had, he might consider walking away and finding some other job. But alas, Dairy Queen was a necessary evil. 

He supposed it was sort of fun sometimes. He enjoyed discreetly tossing a few bits of candy into his mouth now and then, and talking to the costumers in the drive-thru with the headset made him feel like he was receiving orders from his captain on a spaceship.  

However, he already had six little burns on his poor fingers from the fry oil, and he accidentally exploded another blizzard yesterday – the fourth one thus far. The manager gave him a warning, but they both knew that Beacon Hills’ DQ was quite understaffed. They needed him, or someone like him. Stiles was the only applicant in many months.  

Hearing the bell above the door chime, signaling that another customer was entering, he made his way over to the counter, not paying any attention to what was in front of him. “Welcome to Dairy Queen. What can I get for y-” Stiles froze as his eyes made contact with hers.  

Just looking at her made his face flush, turning a deep red, and his hands suddenly felt clammy. He had never seen someone with such pure beauty. Every little detail pierced him as his gaze took her in. She was almost overwhelming.  

Her smile at the awkward moment reeled him back in and he cleared his throat, blinking a few times. “Sorry, uh... How can I help you?” 

As she gave him her order with that euphonious voice, he felt dizzy. And when the blizzard she asked for was the exact same as his favorite (since he was five years old), he almost felt out of breath. He couldn’t stop the grin that formed on his face. Stiles was smitten! 

He could see it all, right then and there: the sparkling ring he’d put on her finger, the long white dress she’d wear, the quaint home they’d live in together, the fuzzy puppy they’d adopt. Everything would’ve been perfect. Until he watched painfully as a tall, well-built, Ryan Gosling lookalike wrapped an arm around her waist and began listing his order too.  

A pit formed in Stiles’ stomach, making him nauseous. He knew nothing about the guy, yet he already hated him. He unknowingly blocked out everything he said, too busy with the jealousy that began to spark inside of him.  

He rubbed his forehead, trying to get his bearings. “Um, what was that?” 

An annoyed sigh left the ‘man’ before he recited his order again: the most disgusting concoction Stiles had ever heard. Yep, he definitely hated him.  

Stiles stared at him from around the corner as he made his blizzard, s He was too consumed to notice his hands drifting away from the mixer, causing ice cream to splatter everywhere, including all over him. “Fuck, not again...” he muttered, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in frustration. The only bright side was that it wasn’t her blizzard that exploded.  

That stupid guy had the nerve to look over and laugh, pointing a finger at poor Stiles. “Oh shit! Is it baby’s first day? Do you need a napkin?” he mocked, followed by more obnoxious laughter. 

Holding back because he knew his manager was in his office, Stiles bit his lip. To his surprise, a voice did come through to defend him. 

“Knock it off, Victor. He’s just trying to do his job.” The angel of a girl stepped in front of him and urged him to take a seat in one of the booths. She then looked back at Stiles and gave him a sweet, sympathetic smile, which he returned. “I’m really sorry about him.” 

“It’s alright. I’d probably laugh too.” 

“Maybe, but that wasn’t just a laugh...” She lowered her voice as she continued, embarrassed by her boyfriend’s actions, “That was an outburst.” 

Stiles suddenly felt horrible for her. The look on her face showed that this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, and the guilt she clearly felt wasn’t fair. Everything inside of him told him to hop over the counter and save her – run away with her, hug her close, and make her feel safe, loved, and appreciated. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option, and Victor looked like he could knock him out with one good punch. 

“Hey, really, it’s ok. Don’t feel bad on his behalf.” 

Her smile partially returned. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure he gives you a good tip.” 

“Alright, I’m looking forward to it,” he said, chuckling. 

With that, Stiles quickly wiped up what he could and made a new blizzard for the douchebag, this time without making a massive mess and a fool of himself. Once all of their order was together, he carried the trays to their table, making sure to flip both of the blizzards. He completely ignored Victor’s existence and focused on the beautiful smiling angel instead.  

Walking away was harder than he thought it would be. In the short amount of time since he met her, he somehow grew attached to her. He couldn’t explain why or how, but he knew he felt something strong for her.  

He decided that watching her enjoy a meal with that scum was too much for him to bear, so he went on his lunch break and got some fresh air outside. He hoped that he’d at least see her lovely face one more time before they left, but when he came back inside, they were gone, just a crumpled ten-dollar bill left in their place, and his heart cracked. Stiles had no idea if he’d ever see her again, but he certainly hoped so.  

YES YES YES. PLEASE AND THANK YOU

lazy cuddles with stiles sound sooooo good rn

like maybe you’ve had a long day or maybe you took a day off just to be together. but you’re both in bed with light filtering through the windows as you talk about everything and nothing.

his arms around you and his head on your chest, your hands running through his hair as you hum softly. maybe it’s the tune of a song you like or maybe it’s random notes in a non-sequential order but nonetheless it’s a soothing sound.

you focus on his breathing at certain times, just to make sure he’s still there. reveling in the fact that he’s real and this is a moment you want to remember forever. it’s pure domesticity and bliss and you wish that it was always like this.

maybe he asks you questions or maybe he’s telling stupid jokes to make you smile because that’s his favorite sight in the world. maybe his hands move to tickle you because your laughter brings him unfettered joy. and when he settles, he just looks at you like you’re his entire world. because you are.

soft, sweet kisses at sporadic moments just because he loves you so much and the urge overtakes him.

just. ugh i need stiles comfort rn.

hii! this is my first time requesting, buuut could possibly you write something with stiles and a popular reader? maybe they’re paired together on a project and realize they have a lot in common? maybe a sort of an enemies to lovers type thing 🙏

No worries! I actually love this idea, thank you! I just got kind of busy and couldn't put much time into this, but I tried my best so hopefully you enjoy it :)

Alright folks, here we go...

Project

Word count: 1,241

(Stiles' POV)

You know those incredibly rare days when you wake up and don't immediately hate everything? When you have a sliver of hope for something good to happen? Yeah, those lovely, delicate, beautiful days, I know you know what I'm talking about.

So my point is, I had (or thought I had) one of those days when my alarm went off one morning, but evidently, I was wrong. And not just a whoops-a-daisy type of wrong. No. I'm talking about the utterly horrific, catastrophically disastrous type. I realized this when I heard who my math teacher paired me with for the graph poster project.

Hearing her name made me immediately roll my eyes and I had to force myself not to audibly groan in agony. I glanced over at her from across the room and saw the same look of distaste on her face that I had on mine. 'Great,' I thought, probably still glaring at her.

Usually, I don't mind popular girls because they're so far out of my league and don't give me the time of day to even reject me in the first place. However, when it comes down to this girl - no. That is way too kind. This evil, mocking, slimy, sinister, know-it-all wench was too intolerable for me to cope with that day. Despite the fact that I've never actually had a conversation with her or even said a word to her, I always had a bad feeling about her. I just didn't trust someone who was so clearly sucking up to her teachers to get away with stuff. Ok, fine, I didn't know if that was exactly true. But how did no one else hate her? How did she even get that popular in the first place? It didn't add up and I didn't like it.

Once the bitch who destroyed my hopes and dreams for the day finally finished blabbing about the damned project, I waited for my infuriatingly slow partner to come sit down at my table so we could start. For some odd reason, when I looked over at her, she was still sitting in her seat, apparently waiting for me to go over to her. She tried waving her hand in her direction to draw me in, but I held my ground, scoffing at her sad attempt. Rolling her eyes, she reluctantly got up and sat down next to me, clearly having an attitude. And then we just sat there for a moment, festering in uncomfortable annoyance until she eventually looked at me.

"Are you going to start the project, or not?" she said bluntly, which caught me off guard.

"Um, excuse me? Am I? Me? Are you serious right now? Do you know what the definition of a partner is? Because I highly doubt that tiny brain of yours does if you think I'm doing this shit by myself," I hissed back.

"Wow, you are just as dramatic as I thought. Obviously, I'm not that dumb, I was just trying to piss you off enough to actually speak instead of just scowling in your seat."

I stared at her in disbelief, incapable of understanding the audacity that girl just had. However, begrudgingly, we started the project.

"You're doing that wrong by the way," she spoke casually. My eyebrows furrowed and I stared intensely at the equation I was solving.

"Uh... No, I'm not."

For some reason, she started getting frustrated with me, even though she was delusional for thinking I was doing absolutely anything incorrectly, saying, "Um, yes you literally are. Have you not been paying attention this entire unit?"

I looked at her with incredulity as I spoke unconfidently, "I... Well... More than you have, for sure. You're always busy chatting with your little minions. Besides, I don't even need to pay attention. Math isn't that hard for people with more than three brain cells."

"Then how come you're doing it wrong?" She looked at me with amusement and it almost made me nauseous.

Then, I snapped at her - probably more aggressively than I should have - but she earned that reaction when she intentionally pissed me off. And so, our spiteful jabs continued as we worked on the project.

By the time we finished, things started getting quiet between us. She pulled out a small book from her backpack and began reading to fill the extra time left in class. I tilted my head as I read the title: "The Fellowship of the Ring." I couldn't help but smirk to myself, but unfortunately, she noticed.

"What?" she said, her eyebrows furrowing.

My eyes quickly lifted to hers as I spoke, trying to sound innocent, "I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but your face did."

My lips parted, suddenly feeling like I had switched roles and was talking to a version of myself. I've said those exact words about a hundred times - what parallel universe did I just teleport to?

Suddenly, her pencil hit my face, snapping me out of my apparent staring, and she continued, "Is there a reason why you're looking at me like that, or are you just a creep?"

"I, yeah, um... No. Wait, what?" I stuttered, making a fool of myself.

"Are you on drugs or something?"

"Um, no, definitely not."

"Ok, then what the hell is wrong with you?"

I quickly rubbed my face, trying to get a grip. Truth be told, I had no freaking idea what was wrong with me. I couldn't even form a coherent sentence. For the first time since I was in the womb, my mind was empty.

Finally, after looking like an idiot for way too long, I cleared my throat and tried again in a nervous tone, "Do-... Do you like the movies?"

"Huh?" She looked at me like I was crazy.

"The movies. The Lord of the Rings movies. You like them, or...?"

"Oh, um, yeah. I've been wanting to read the books for a while but kept forgetting to renew my library card." Her expression seemed to soften quickly, which made me smile slightly for a reason I didn't understand at the time.

"Yeah? It's been a while since I've seen them, but they were some of my favorites as a kid, after Star Wars, of course."

It's hard to wrap my head around the fact that only a month later, we were cuddled up under a blanket on her couch, binge-watching The Lord of the Rings movies to celebrate her completion of the books. I looked down at her, enjoying her company more than whatever Frodo was complaining about, and just smiled.

I never thought that I would have a conversation with the most well-known girl at Beacon Hills High School, let alone hold her hand around the halls, hug her before class, or kiss her before dropping her off at her house after a date. But, apparently, all those corny quotes that English teachers love are, in fact, true: you really can't judge a book by its cover, and you also can't fold the corner of a book page (your girlfriend will smack you in the face). Oh, and also, your hope getting snatched away by your math teacher doesn't mean that nothing good will come out of the experience that you get from it. Who knows, maybe you'll end up falling in love with and losing your virginity to the most beautiful, wonderful, perfect girl in existence, just like me.

DATING WOULD INCLUDE... || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Some headcanons I have for dating Stiles!

Memo— This is probably kind of ooc because I'm so overdue for a Teen Wolf rewatch but I think these fit well!

Word Count — 543

Stiles is the type to send you a million texts throughout the day—some sweet, some completely unhinged. One minute, it’s “Thinking about how cute you looked this morning” and the next, “If I turned into a dog but still had my head, would you still love me?”

He constantly finds ways to make you laugh, whether it’s dramatically re-enacting entire movie scenes, putting on ridiculous accents, or just making weird faces at you from across the room.

Despite all his chaos, he’s actually incredibly attentive. He notices when your mood shifts, when you’re overwhelmed, and when you just need a moment of quiet.

If you’re having a bad day, he shows up with your favourite snacks, a hoodie that smells like him, and a marathon of your comfort show queued up—no questions asked.

He definitely overthinks things sometimes, but it just means he puts extra effort into making you feel special. You offhandedly mention liking a certain kind of drink? Now your pantry is stocked with every flavour from that brand.

Stiles is obsessed with holding your hand. Walking? Holding hands. Sitting on the couch? Your fingers are laced together. Driving? One hand on the wheel, the other squeezing yours.

He makes up the most ridiculous pet names for you, and the worst part is they change daily. One day it’s “Sugar Muffin Supreme,” the next it’s “Detective Snuggle Pants.” You never know what’s coming next.

He will 100% go out of his way to find the weirdest, most specific memes that he knows will make you laugh and send them at random times—especially if he knows you’re busy and trying to be serious.

He’s your biggest hype man. Whether it’s a new outfit, a school achievement, or something as small as getting out of bed on a tough day, he’s right there cheering you on like you just won an Olympic medal.

Loves teasing you but gets so soft the second you give him a look. His sarcasm might be legendary, but the second you pout, he’s pulling you into his arms and muttering apologies against your hair.

If you’re having trouble sleeping, he’ll tell you the most nonsensical, rambling stories until you eventually pass out. Half of them involve conspiracy theories or supernatural creatures, but his voice is so soothing that it doesn’t even matter.

Absolutely insists on dramatic forehead kisses. Any excuse to lean in close, pause for dramatic effect, and press a slow, lingering kiss to your skin like he’s in a romance movie.

Stiles is a huge cuddler. He’ll dramatically sigh and drape himself over you like a human blanket, whining if you try to move away. Whether it’s spooning, you lying on his chest while he traces patterns on your back, or tangled limbs on the couch while watching TV, he always has to be touching you in some way. If you get up in the middle of the night, he groggily mumbles “Nooo, stay,” and tries to pull you back into bed. He doesn’t even care if he’s boiling hot—he will suffer in the name of cuddles.

Stiles loves you with his whole heart, and he’s not subtle about it. He's loud, ridiculous, and a little chaotic—but also warm, unwavering, and completely, hopelessly devoted to you.

Mollified

Word count: 799

Note: The beginning of this is kind of sad, so I apologize, but I did my best to make the ending fluffy because that's what everyone decided on (in this poll). I can't tell if this sucks... I tried though, so oh well.

Feeling his body tremble from his soft sobs was devastating. Every tear that fell was another crack in her broken heart. She wished she knew what to do or say to make it all better for her sweet Stiles. 

It had been a long, grueling week, particularly for him. Between attending school, playing lacrosse, battling the supernatural, being a good, and supporting his girlfriend, he couldn’t find the time to process emotions, and resorted to shoving them downward instead. This was a horrible habit he knew he had, but Stiles didn’t try to break it because he didn’t know how to address it. There was always something more important he had to do. 

So, he was back where he was every few weeks, laying stomach-down on his girlfriend’s bed with his face buried into lap as he finally let himself feel. Exhaustion, frustration, disappointment, sadness, and hopelessness poured out of his soul, nearly drowning him.  

She did everything she could to soothe his tense muscles and labored breathing – combing her fingers through his already disheveled hair, rubbing his back and shoulder blades, and whispering the insufficient words of comfort that came to mind – but this was out of both of their control. Although, he did feel a sense of safety with his face pressed against her thighs, as if it was a shelter for his tears.  

All he could do was ride out the episode, a necessary evil to reset himself and empty that jar in the dark corner of his heart that was reserved for emotions he didn’t want or couldn’t be bothered with. Unfortunately, this ride was not on a clear path, but rather one with ups and downs, and bumps and twists. Some points were much more intense and painful, while others were softer and sadder. Time was unidentifiable.  

Eventually, his torment faded away and his usually light gradually began to fill him again. She gave him the time he needed to completely calm down and regain his strength, so Stiles stayed where he was while his breathing evened out and his heartbeat returned to a normal pace. He was grateful that her soft gestures continued on. It was truly astonishing that she never ceased, showing her patience and dedication to him with every movement.  

Suddenly, he lifted his head up to look into her eyes with his swollen red ones. “Do you want to go get some ice cream?” 

Of all things, she was not expecting this. She stared back at him with confusion, questioning his sanity yet again. “What? Right now?” she managed to say. 

“Yeah,” he responded simply, sniffling. 

“Um... I mean, yeah, we can, but are you ok?” She was clearly still concerned; who wouldn’t be after everything she just witnessed seconds ago? 

He sniffled again before speaking again. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Let’s go get some ice cream.” A little smile began growing on his lips, causing the same to happen to his girlfriend. 

“Alright, but Stiles-” 

“I’ll be absolutely perfect as soon as you let me buy us some ice cream, ok?” he insisted as he sat up right in front of her. 

“Wait, no, you can’t pay.” 

“And why’s that?”  

“Because I’m taking care of you tonight.” She scowled just slightly at his smirk. 

“No, you already did take care of me,” he persisted, leaning in kiss her lips gently. “It’s my turn now, and I want ice cream.” 

She was flustered, very flustered, but couldn’t say no to him, especially after his kiss. So, she reluctantly gave in. “Fine. But are you sure you’re ok? Do you need to talk about anything?” 

Stiles was already getting up and putting his hand out for her to take, helping her up. “Maybe on the way we can chat a little, but seriously, I’m good. All thanks to you.” 

Smiling, he pulled her closer by her waist. It wasn’t fair that he knew exactly how to make her melt. He had complete control over her in a hypnotizing way, and she loved it. She couldn’t explain it with words, but she was addicted to his, well, everything. 

After a lovely drive and a bit of chatting, Stiles bought them they’re favorite ice cream, as promised, and they enjoyed it between more kisses while sitting in the Jeep. As much as he loved treats, she was his favorite treat of all. 

“You’re delicious, you know that?” 

“Shut up, you weirdo.” 

“I can see you blushing. It might be dark outside, but I can still see it. Don’t be ashamed of how delicious you are.” 

“Stiles, I will throw your cone out of this window right now if you don’t shut the hell up.” 

“Ha! I’d like to see you try.” 

And just like that, Stiles was back to his normal, whacky self. 

I'm hoping to write this weekend, but feel free to send any other fluffy ideas you have! I love hearing from people, it makes me so happy to know that my little efforts to do Stiles justice have reached others! Thank you all for your contributions. 💜

I don't know when I'll have time to write again, which I apologize for - it makes me sad too. However, when I do get around to it, what would everyone like to see first?

(The Wampus Cat AU has a reader x Stiles childhood friends to lovers trope :))

My dear friends... I have a confession to make.

About a week ago, I made a separate account to post my smutty thoughts about Stiles. At first, it was just a little experiment, but I have gotten very kind feedback, so I decided to reveal myself as @little-miss-alone-n-in-love.

I still don't know if I'm comfortable with writing actual smut, but I'm happy to share my little fantasies. However, I would like to keep the two blogs separate because I know there are some people who aren't comfortable with reading intimacy and some people who don't always feel like reading fluff. I will provide links for both somewhere in case people want to jump from one to the other though.

Thank you everyone for all of the sweet support I've gotten on everything!

-KC 💜

I don't know when I'll have time to write again, which I apologize for - it makes me sad too. However, when I do get around to it, what would everyone like to see first?

(The Wampus Cat AU has a reader x Stiles childhood friends to lovers trope :))

「bf!Stiles headcanons」 pt2

bf!Stiles that sits behind you in class, so that he can play with your hair when he is bored

bf!Stiles that learns how to cook from your mom: Claudia passed away when Stiles was only a kid and, like many other kids, he was not really interested on learning how to cook (something he still regrets to this day) so she never had the chance to teach him... after finding out about his mom, yours decided to teach him dishes you like the most and Stiles will be always grateful to her for that. Once, while they were baking, he bursted into tears cause the smell of the chocolate cake in the oven reminded him that Claudia used to bake it for him when he was younger, your mom didn't say anything, she simply hugged him and from that moment on, Stiles saw her as an adoptive mom.

bf!Stiles that has a hate relationship with your male cat, it always takes his spot on your bed and hits him with its paws while you two sleep! the worse thing is that you don't believe him when Stiles says your cat is evil because it always makes these things when you're not watching and with you behaves like the most perfect angel, he swears the cat smirks at him when you hug it to sleep instead of him

bf!Stiles that shuts your bedroom's door in front of your cat's face after you fall asleep

bf!Stiles that softly tries to hush you back to sleep when you wake up because of the mewls outside of your room

bf!Stiles that fails and is hit with a pillow by you

bf!Stiles that has to watch your cat snuggle into you with satisfied purrs (he KNOWS it's purring to spite him.)

bf!Stiles that tries to intimidate the cat by asking Scott to use his 'alpha aura', the motherfucker isn't impressed by the alpha at all

bf!Stiles that hates when you say 'love you' instead of 'I love you'... it feels incomplete and hurried

bf!Stiles that frames every doodle you make on his notebooks and places them all around the Stilinski's house, Noah is actually really confused to see a very bad batman sketch hanging in the hallway of his house (he thought it was a pouty cat), but Stiles forbade him from removing it and now there is at least one doodle in every room of the house, in Noah's bedroom too (he's attached to them just as much as Stiles now)

Heyy, I saw you were looking for requests and I was wondering if you would be willing to write Stiles Stilinksi asking reader on a date? What is your interpretation of his approach? What would the pining stage look like? Would he trip over his words? Is he still his usual cocky self? Would he be straightforward? Hopefully this gave you some inspiration and don’t feel pressured to write this if you don’t feel like it <3

I love this so much and it actually inspired me to write a New Year themed imagine, so thank you! Sorry it took so long to respond, but the holidays are a hectic time for everyone. I hope you like it and Happy New Year! 💜

A Date Before Midnight 🎉

Word count: 2,001

Stiles woke up on New Year’s Eve with a heavy weight on his shoulders. Everyone around him, all of his friends, even his father – they were all ecstatic about the fresh start and the chance to improve themselves again, as if all of those unrealistic goals weren’t going to disintegrate within the first few weeks, just like every other year. It was a waste of hope. But that’s not why Stiles was feeling so discouraged with himself.

That day was his last chance to achieve the goal he made 364 days ago: ask her out. One of his closest friends, favorite people, and biggest inspirations was the girl he met when he was a wee tot and had the privilege of growing up with. She always knew how to make him smile and she always let him go on lengthy rants, no matter how ridiculous they were. She listened and talked back, and made him feel normal and safe. This girl was everything he needed when he was lacking something. Somehow, she figured it out and did her best, resulting in a very happy and fulfilled Stiles.

He didn’t realize how truly drawn to her he was until last December when he saw the purity and kindness in her eyes as she handed him the thoughtful, personal Christmas present she made just for him. Plus, watching her go through and finish puberty was an excellent, yet sometimes painful, bonus (wink wink).

Every single day began with determination and ended with despair and frustration. He was so good at talking, it was one of his many talents, and he used it to give himself the advantage in all settings. So, he couldn’t understand why the words “Will you go out with me?” refused to make an appearance while he conversed with her. They constantly raced through his head, but shoving them out of his mouth was like forcing a mule to bake cookies.

Maybe it was fear, or doubt, possibly a dash of incredulity. Or maybe all of the above. Stiles had no clue because his desire to just say the damn words was eating him alive. His tongue was burning, but instead of putting out the flames, he subconsciously diverted his attention by bringing up some other lame conversation topic. He wasn’t sure if he had control of his own brain at that point due to how incredibly long this was taking him.

He decided to do it at the pack’s celebration at Scott’s house. He would pull her aside at some point and casually let it slip out, and it would all be fine. Right? The party was starting at nine, giving him two hours and fifty-nine minutes to figure it out. That’s plenty of time. Right? Right...?

Stiles was frantic and pacing around his room. He didn’t intend to put it off this long, he honestly and wholeheartedly wanted to achieve his goal before the year ended, but the stakes were getting higher and more intimidating. Plus, getting rejected would be a horrible way to start a new year. He had enough bad luck, he couldn’t handle any more.

“Fuck...” he groaned under his breath, running his hands through his hair and down his face.

“Do I need to pull out the swear jar from when you were ten?”

Stiles nearly broke his neck while whipping his head to look at the man standing in the doorway of his bedroom. “Dad? What- I mean, uh, no. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be doing your sheriff duties and arresting middle-aged drunk uncles?”

“I’m leaving for the station in a few hours, it’s only noon.” Noah wasn’t too excited to lead to night shift, especially on New Year’s Eve, and Stiles’ lips made a thin line when he realized that most people weren’t drunk yet. “Why are you so tense?”

“I’m not tense!” he spit back, a little too quickly, earning him raised eyebrows from his father. Stiles relaxed his shoulders as he attempted to make a smooth recovery. “I’m just mentally preparing for all of the self-improvement I’m going to be doing tomorrow.”

The sheriff remained unamused and disbelieving. “Like what?”

“Like... jazzercise?” Stiles winced as soon as he said such an absurd fib, knowing well that it wouldn’t get him out of his interrogation.

“Really? You too?”

The boy’s jaw dropped. There was no way... “Wait, what?”

Smirking, just like his son had done countless times, and turning to walk down the hall, he said, “I better not have to arrest you too tonight.”

Stiles let out a breath of relief and called out after him. “I’ll be on my best behavior! Don’t you worry, Pops!”

With clammy hands, he drove to Scott’s house, already losing time because he was running late. He may have cut himself while attempting to shave the peach fuzz on his chin, and there was a lot of blood. Embarrassing for him, but his intentions to look his best for the biggest night of his life thus far were undoubtedly sweet.

Parking against the curb across the street, he recognized the other cars around him, signifying that he was the last to arrive. The clock was ticking way too fast. He didn’t want to believe that it was already 9:38, but he sort of had to. He had shit to do.

He took a long swig of water from the plastic bottle that had been festering in the cupholder for who knows how long, took a deep breath, and swung his door open. Marching up to the front door, he tried to shake the anxiety out through his hands and focused on taking more deep breaths, but suddenly he was sweating all over and his mouth was dry yet again. These side effects made him shake his head and roll his eyes at himself. He’d known this girl forever, the worst she could say was no. Or laugh in his face...

He slapped his own cheek and whispered harshly, “Get it together, Stiles. Be a man. It’s just a few little words. You’ve had all year to do this. You’ve done enough preparing. Be a man.”

At last, he stepped into his best friend’s home and saw everyone seated around the coffee table, playing Uno with two decks: Aiden, Isaac, Allison, and Ethan were relaxed on the couch as Scott, Kira, Malia, Mason, Liam, and Stiles’ favorite gal sat on pillows and cushions on the floor. Well, except for Malia – she “didn’t care about a hard floor” and “grew up on them.”

“Stiles! You’re here!” That pretty voice and smile caught his attention. “Here, come sit with me, you can just be on my ‘team’ until this game is over,” she said, scooting over and making room for him on her cushion.

His heart just about melted and he quickly sat down next to her, against her, which sent tingles through his body.

The game continued, but all he wanted to do was demand that everyone leave them alone so he could spill his guts and beg for a date. He was beginning to feel a bit hot and queasy, and he repeatedly checked the time as the minutes slowly passed. However, he watched her closely during her turns and quietly whispered strategy advice over her shoulder to aid her in disposing of her cards. Hearing her whisper back, raving about how smart he was made him blush furiously.

“Hey, what happened to your chin?” she asked while Allison played her turn.

Stiles looked at her with confusion at first. “My what?” Realization washed over him as his fingertips brushed over the tender mark left behind from his earlier incident. The fact that she noticed made his face turn another shade darker. “Oh, that. It’s nothing. Basically a paper cut.”

“Basically?”

“Kind of. Almost.”

“Almost a paper cut? How does paper almost cut you and still leave a mark?” she said, a smile growing on her face.

Chuckling, he gave in. “Alright, fine. I cut myself while shaving. But I swear it wasn’t my fault. The razor just came at me out of nowhere!”

Hearing her laugh at his dumb joke made him grin like a doofus (a cute doofus).

“Wow, I didn’t know you even knew how to shave. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“Hey! I’ve been shaving for years, you just haven’t noticed because I’m so skilled at it. I’m as precise as a ninja.”

“Clearly not, since you cut yourself,” she pointed out, smirking.

“I told you; it was the razor!”

After a couple more games of Uno, the group diverted into other activities: chatting, dancing, snacking, arm wrestling, etc. But every time Stiles could pull away and hunt her down, someone would drag her into another conversation or game of Connect 4. Usually, he wouldn’t mind yanking a person wherever he wanted, however, that look of joy she wore made it impossible for his hands to reach out.

Additionally, a stronger feeling of guilt was creeping over him. The fear of somehow violating her and making her feel uncomfortable with their friendship formed a blackhole in his stomach. He couldn’t bear being responsible for flipping her whole world upside down. What if she didn’t want to see him again? Or what if she tells everyone that he’s a creep? What if he has to disappear forever?

Of course, these scenarios he was conjuring were completely unrealistic; he knew that because he knew her. He knew almost everything there was to know about her. He studied her soul with interest and delight because she was so enticing and alluring to him. She was like a beautiful mystical creature who blessed him with companionship. Though, as the time inched closer to his deadline, he seemed to lose his sense of reality.

Before he knew it, the pack was gathering around the TV, watching the countdown on the local News, and finding a couch, chair, or fireplace to jump off of and into the New Year. Stiles’ heart was thumping and he felt faint. He was pulled up onto the couch by the hood of his jacket, and he looked over to see that pretty smile again, but he only frowned as people began counting down.

“10, 9...”

“Stiles?”

With a shaky jaw, he bit his lip.

“...8, 7...”

“What’s wrong?”

“...6, 5, 4...”

“Stiles-”

“...3, 2...”

“Will you go out with me?” he finally blurted, feeling hot tingles rush through him in waves.

Her jaw went slack.

“...1! Happy New Year!”

Everyone jumped down and cheered in celebration, blissfully unaware of the thick air surrounding the pair who awkwardly stepped down from the couch.

Stiles stared at her blank face before deciding to let his stupid hopes and dreams die in that living room. He didn’t want to keep looking into those eyes with the knowledge of the inevitable consequences that would soon be coming his way.

She glanced around and saw a couple kisses being shared, but when her gaze returned to Stiles, he was turning away, preparing to walk out of there as quickly as possible. Letting her instincts take over, she grabbed his shoulders, turned him around and placed a sweet but firm kiss on his cheek.

The boy’s eyes widened and his face and neck turned bright red, once again.

“Yes, I will go out with you.” She beamed at him with rosy cheeks.

Stiles kept staring at her with wide eyes until he cleared his throat and somewhat pulled himself together. “Oh, yeah, cool. That’s, um, really cool.”

“Cool? Stiles, I’ve been waiting forever for you to ask me out, and now that you have, all you’re saying is ‘cool’?”

His eyebrows shot up, realizing how insanely inappropriate his reaction was. “Oh my god, I am such an idiot, that is not what I meant at all, I swear-” He stopped suddenly. “Wait. You’ve been waiting for me to ask you out forever?”

She simply smiled at him again. “Happy New Year, Stiles.”

Rules on request??

Can you do one where Stiles finds out his girlfriend has a chronic illness like lupus or something and he adjust his life to be there every step for her. Even the time in the hospital he stays and sleeps in the bed with her holding her. He always seemed like he would be the golden retriever type 🩷 and she doesn’t or does know about the pack you choose

This is literally the sweetest request ever and so on brand for him! I decided to "give" her something else because I don't know anything about lupus. I am definitely not a medical expert of any kind and I do not claim to be, but I have a couple family members who have the chronic illness I chose, so I am slightly familiar with it. Everyone should always do their own research though! What I wrote mostly focuses on the events before finding out, but I can continue this and go into more detail on what happens afterwards if people would like me to. Also, I apologize, but the last third, give or take is kind of rushed. I hope you like it though! Thank you for the request!

Also, I will take any request with a grain of salt and tweak things if I need or want to. But I'm open to anything!

Battle Together

Word count: 1,658

His heart was racing and falling at the same time. There was no way this was actually happening, right? Not to her.  

His hands shook as he gripped his phone to his ear. Focusing on Scott’s voice was getting increasingly more difficult as he tried not to spiral. Why didn’t her dad tell him? Why wasn’t he with her right then, holding her hand and sweeping away her worries. Shit, he was so worried, and Scott clearly didn’t know all of what was actually going on.  

“Scott, wait, what are you saying?”  

“She’s here. In the hospital. All my mom told me was that she passed out and now they’re doing brain scans.” His friend was plainly shaken up too. 

Brain scans? Stiles felt sick. Everything he witnessed his mother go through when he was a little boy crashed into him all over again. What if this was the same thing? What if she had what his mom had? What if- 

“I’m on my way.” 

Stiles broke nearly every traffic law in existence as he raced to Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, to his beloved girlfriend. He needed to get there as fast as possible; he needed to know what was going on. He absolutely despised being out of the loop. 

Frantically sprinting into the building and nearly running into not one, but two nurses who were going home for the night, he arrived at the front desk. But where the hell was Melissa? 

His feet almost left the floor when the sweet voice broke through his rapid breathing, saying, “Oh good, you’re here. Come with me.” 

Stiles turned to look at the curly-haired, soft-eyed woman. He couldn’t help that his voice trembled as soon as he opened his mouth. “What’s going on? Is she ok? Did something happen to her? Have they found anything yet? Why did-” 

“Stiles.” Melissa placed her aged hands on his shoulders in an attempt to ground him. “Breathe. Everything’s going to be fine. She’s going to be fine.” 

“Do you really know that...?” he asked hesitantly. 

She paused for a moment, understandably. There was no way to know anything for sure. Not yet, at least. 

“Let’s just go see her for now, ok?” 

He nodded and let her guide him to his girlfriend’s room. As they walked, Ms. McCall told him everything she knew. She explained that the poor girl had passed out in the kitchen while helping her dad prepare dinner, banging her head on the corner of the granite countertop and burning her forearm with spilled gravy in the process. Her father practically carried her to the car as soon as she hazily woke up and brought her in to the hospital. Her second-degree burn was cleaned and treated before the doctor decided to check for a concussion. Hearing the true explanation for the CT scan relatively eased Stiles’ nerves, but there was still so much to decipher. He needed to see her, preferably immediately. 

They reached the door of the room she was checked into when they moved her from the ER. However, Melissa did not reach for the handle, causing Stiles to give her a look of curiosity. 

“Stiles,” she started, exhaling a deep breath, “I want you to be prepared for whatever this is.” 

His curiosity deepened and twisted as the spires of concern within him sharpened and stood taller. “Wha- what does that mean?” 

“It means that, sometimes, something as small as passing out isn’t always as small as it seems...”  

The woman’s eyes were filled with a specific type of pain, one that Stiles was familiar with, but hadn’t seen in her for years. Since he was so young when his mother was sick, he never truly realized how much agony Melissa experienced as she watched a dear friend (and that friend’s family) of hers suffer. It brought her a horrible aching sensation to see the damage a singular disease could inflict on three good, genuine people, and not be able to do something significant to help. That was her job – to help. But there was really nothing she or anyone was capable of to improve the situation.  

Stiles swallowed in a faulty attempt to soothe his suddenly dry throat. He simply nodded, and in return, the sweet nurse gave him an empathetic smile. Of course, she didn’t want to scare him with what she said, but she had given bad news too many times that week. 

“Are you ready?” 

He sighed, trying to take her advice and finding it incredibly arduous. “Yeah, I think so.” 

As they quietly entered, Stiles’ eyes softened upon seeing the girl who stole his heart sitting up on the hospital bed. She looked incredibly tired, but watching her mouth curve upwards when her gaze met his made him feel like the luckiest man alive. Not because of the situation, obviously, but because that cute little smile was for him.  

“Hey, stranger.” Her raspy voice was surprisingly gleeful, all things considered. Perhaps Stiles just had that effect on her. 

“Hey,” he chuckled. “You feeling ok?” 

She simply shrugged and glanced at her father who was standing next to the bed.  

Begrudgingly, the man cleared his throat and excused himself from the room.  He supposed that giving the lovebirds no more than a couple minutes wouldn’t result in an utter catastrophe, even when Stiles is one of the pair in question, who hastily sat down on the edge of the bed as soon as the door clicked closed.  

“Are you sure you’re ok? Do you need me to get you anything? What can I do?” He took her hands into his. 

Her smile grew as she saw the love and devotion he had for her, not to mention the worry. She didn’t want him to stress himself out, but she had to admit that those wide eyes were adorable.  

“I’m fine, I swear. Just... stay with me for a while?” she said, her voice turning bashful. 

“Absolutely. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Got that?” His hands squeezed hers as he leaned forward. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, her face approaching his, “I got that.” 

As if he had a sixth sense for his daughter’s desires, the man swiftly entered the room again, causing both of the teens’ head to lurch backwards. Stiles tried to be sly as he slowly and awkwardly pulled his hands away and stood from the bed, backing away cautiously. A doctor stood in the doorway, along with Melissa. 

“Dr. Vandenberg wants to run a few more tests while we wait for the CT scan results, just in case it’s not a concussion.” Her father began pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I have some things I need to do for work, but I’ll be back in the morning, alright? Is that ok with you?’  

The information that was sprung on her felt like a spear piercing her spine and sending a poison of anxiety rushing through her bloodstream. All she could do was nod. There was no other option, anyway.  

He nodded back at her before his eyes locked onto Stiles. “You’re staying with her.” 

It was more of a command than anything, but the boy would never object to that regardless of whose mouth those words left.  

“Yes, sir.”  

Stiles was by her side for as many tests as he was permitted. He could tell that this was more frightening for her than she was divulging; it was harrowing. Therefore, he desperately desired to bring her some semblance of comfort. And he succeeded, to a degree. 

Afterwards, their time together was briefly ceased while he picked up the closest thing to a couple of “real” burgers Beacon Hills could provide. They contentedly ate their late dinner together, squished against one another once she made room for him next to her. He kissed away the condiment that was smeared on the corner of her mouth, making her giggle.  

Additionally, he held her close and kept his eyes glued to her form, making sure she was snuggly falling asleep without interruption. Without realizing it, he, too, was swept away into a slumber. Their trepidations momentarily fizzled and were replaced by fantasy-filled dreams, and morning rolled in fast. 

When her father returned, the doctor explained the various test results they received. Stiles’ girlfriend was officially diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), a chronic illness which frequently inflicts dizziness and fainting due to a lower blood volume returning to the heart. It can be managed with an increased intake of salt and water, but will be part of her for the rest of her life.  

Stiles felt a surge of anger at the news – there was nothing he could do to make this nuisance of a disease go away and his girlfriend did nothing to deserve it. However, he swore to himself that he would stay by her side, hold her hand, and keep her safe whenever her body got the best of her.  

He kept his promise throughout the rest of school, their engagement after he proposed, and their marriage. He did whatever he could to help, whether necessary or not. He always went the extra mile for her, even though it wasn’t an illness that would debilitate her from living her life. However, it was definitely inconvenient and dangerous at times. 

There was an instance in which she passed out while driving on the freeway, leaving her car to drift into the guard rails. Thankfully, there was very little traffic, so no one else got hurt. However, she was back in the hospital with a few minor injuries and her husband (for every minute of the stay).  

This battle was never fought alone, and Stiles had a unique talent for making her feel cared for without any semblance of being coddled. He knew how admirably strong she was and exactly when she needed him to step in and hold her. POTS would not break her, nor their bond.  

I can't stop thinking about clumsy Stiles...

Butterfingers

Word count: 460

Everyone knows that Siles Stilinski can’t be trusted with something fragile for too long. His dad didn’t let him hold baby until he was twelve. And where was the sheriff? He was less than a foot away with his hands ready to catch the infant, just in case he knew his son as well as he thought he did. 

Now that Stiles has the girl of his dreams, he does everything he can to protect her from any possible threat, no matter how big or small: open cupboards, hot plates of food, table corners, you name it. If he has to take the pain for her too, he will without hesitation. He welcomes those small, mysterious bruises for her sake.  

Though, sometimes he can’t stop those threats, and sometimes he’s the cause of them. Accidentally, of course, because everyone knows about his slippery fingers. Just like last week. 

His precious girl was perfectly draped against him as they relaxed on his bed. Thank goodness he remembered to hide the heap of laundry that was in their place just a few minutes before she came over. Anyway, her head settled perfectly against the front of his hoodie and she kept her arm tucked around his waist. Even as he scrolled through his phone, he couldn’t help but let his eyes flick downwards, unable to resist and needing to make sure that moment was truly real. 

Everything was so peaceful. Until it happened. This was far from the first time that his butterfingers got the best of him, and it wouldn’t be the last.  

The poor girl’s body jolted immediately after a hard block of technology crashed right into her head. Stiles’ eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He brushed his phone away as she lifted her head to look at him with a pout. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to do that.” His words stumbled out of him as quickly as his hands began to gently caress her little injury.  

“Every single time, Stiles.” 

He looked at her with sympathetic eyes, frowning. “I know, I know, I’m the worst.” 

“No... You’re just a butterfingers,” she mumbled, settling against him once again and hoping the incident wouldn’t result in a headache later. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Guilty as charged.” He massaged her scalp, forgetting all about whatever he was looking at on his phone. 

“If I end up with a lumpy head because of you, I’ll kill you.” 

Stiles couldn’t contain his smile as he spoke softly, “Hey, I’d still love you. You wouldn’t have to go that far.” 

“Ok, fine. You can live,” she yielded, sighing as comfort washed over her again. 

“Oh, what a relief. Just don’t go bald, ok? I don’t want to see the damage.” 

P.S. I'm considering going back and adding word counts for all of my little imagines because they are so convenient and I just got a new laptop! Shout out to writers who add word counts lol 💜

Also, if you want to take a peek at my future plans/ideas, here you go. No pressure though!

Maybe like a cuddle fluff where he’s laying on top of you and playing with your curls?

Wow, it's been a long time since I got this. I'm so incredibly sorry for the wait. I have no excuse other than falling into the rabbit hole of Sebastian Stan... So, yeah, I had no inspiration for anything else. Again, I'm so sorry. I hope this turned out ok...

P.S. This can apply to natural curls or heat curls, whichever works for whoever is reading :)

P.P.S. I just realized that I misread the request. Shit.

The Recoil

Word count: 573

He was mesmerized, to say the least. He always had been. He'd stare at the back of her head as she walked in front of him, watching her luscious curls bounce with every step. He'd constantly be dying to touch them, and he'd try until his fingers were clutched to himself closely, rubbing the ache away after having them get whacked a few too many times. Apparently, some people don't like having their hair meddled with.

Thankfully, that's not the case for his girlfriend anymore. Now that they're happily dating, he gets to touch whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and he's made that very clear. She no longer minds Stiles' insistence because she is officially sure that it's out of affection, not annoyance.

The two snuggle up during any free time they can spare, and for as long as they can get away with, in countless positions and arrangements. They take turns spoiling the other with caresses, paying extra close attention to the other's hair and scalp (Stiles' favorites). There's a certain smirk that appears on his face when it's his turn to get his hands on the precious silk of hers.

Stiles lays on his back with his girlfriend's head placed gently on his chest, and their legs tangled. He brushes all the hair back and over her shoulders, away from her face. His eyes are focused but keep a delicate gaze. One by one, he lightly pulls on each spiral with his calloused fingertips until it extends to its full length, then lets go, watching it constrict again. His smile grows slowly in adoration, not noticing the confusion that grows on her face.

"Stiles...?" she asks softly.

"Hm?" He barely glances up to her face before he continues his attention on her hair, only halfway through her mane.

"What are you doing?"

"Just, you know. Enjoying the recoil."

She tilts her head back to look up at him. "The what?"

"Hey! You moved," he says, scowling.

"Yeah, thanks for noticing," she retorts. "What are you doing?"

His defensive words get a bit jumbled up and a heat spreads across his cheeks. "I'm just, you know. Right? The recoil. The hair, your hair, and the curliness, and the... you know? The recoil."

She can't hide the big, loving smile on her face as she keeps looking up at his.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" he says, staring right back at her.

"You're very cute, Stiles."

"No." He practically glares at her. "No, I'm not. Absolutely not. Just, just put your head back the way it was and stop worrying about it, ok? Relax."

Stiles' girlfriend chuckles softly and does as he says, resting her eyes again and enjoying the gentle pull of his fingers. There's no point in teasing more than he can take.

Meanwhile, he can't contain the red heat which is traveling down his neck. Stiles doesn't understand and never will understand how she can make him react like this. Usually, he's easily able to keep a cold, sarcastic front, but not with her. Not with that smile. Not with those eyes. Not with her dreamy curls. And certainly not with her laying against him.

In the end, he's still smiling fondly, noticing her thumb that slipped underneath his shirt to brush across his waist. It's the little things that get to him most and drive him absolutely crazy for the love of his life.