PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU - REQUEST SOMETHING.

You're so sweet, thank you! I hope you're having a lovely Valentine's Day! 💜

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.

A Little Bit of Normal

Paring: Stiles Stilinski x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2 K

Summary: In the midst of Beacon Hills' chaos, you find solace in Stiles Stilinski's playful distractions and heartfelt words, gradually realizing that your friendship is evolving into something deeper. As he confesses his feelings for you, you both share a tender moment that marks the beginning of something real and meaningful.

It was another quiet afternoon at the library. The hum of pages turning and the faint chatter of a few students were the only sounds filling the room. You sat at your usual spot by the window, attempting to study for your next exam, but your mind kept wandering. The books in front of you blurred into a mess of letters and formulas.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about your grades—it was just hard to concentrate with everything going on in Beacon Hills. Between supernatural chaos, werewolves, and endless mysteries, school was the last thing on your mind. But you couldn’t just ignore it, not when your GPA was on the line.

“Hey,” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You glanced up to find Stiles Stilinski standing at the table, his trademark goofy grin plastered across his face.

“Hey, Stiles,” you said, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. He had that effect on you, always able to make even the most stressful days feel lighter.

“Shouldn’t you be studying?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the table.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m trying. It’s just... hard to focus, you know?”

Stiles gave you a sympathetic look, his expression softening. “Yeah, I get it. Believe me, I do. But I have a solution.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? Do you now?”

He flashed his signature mischievous grin. “Of course. It’s simple, really. All you need is a little Stiles distraction.”

You laughed. “A distraction? I’m supposed to focus on my studies, not get sidetracked by your endless supply of weirdness.”

Stiles smirked, sliding into the chair across from you. “First of all, you’re welcome. Second of all, weirdness is an understatement. And third, who says you can’t do both? You study, I distract. We’ll call it a study session.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m adorable,” he corrected, leaning forward with a playful gleam in his eyes. “And I’m about to prove it.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he launched into one of his usual rambling monologues, jumping from one bizarre idea to another. He told you all about a “brilliant” theory he had about why every fast food chain’s fries tasted exactly the same and how he was convinced there was a conspiracy behind it. His enthusiasm was contagious, and before long, you found yourself laughing at his absurd theories and forgetting about the stress of school.

When he saw you laughing, Stiles seemed to glow with a certain pride, as if he had just accomplished the greatest feat. His smile softened as his eyes met yours, and for a moment, you felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you in that little corner of the library.

“So, I have to ask,” Stiles said, his voice suddenly quieter, more serious. “Why do you always look so stressed, (Y/N)? I mean, I know Beacon Hills is... a lot, but you seem like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders sometimes.”

You hesitated. The weight of his question hit you harder than you expected. You’d gotten used to the chaos, to the constant danger, but there was always that undercurrent of worry that never seemed to leave you. You pushed it away as best as you could, but it wasn’t always easy.

“I guess... I don’t really know how to stop worrying,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s just so much going on. I have to keep everything together, and sometimes, it feels like I’m barely holding it all in.”

Stiles’ expression softened even more. He leaned in closer, his voice low and gentle. “You don’t have to hold it all in. Not with me. You know that, right?”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes. Stiles was always the jokester, the one who made everyone laugh and took everything in stride, but in this moment, he was serious—genuine.

“I know,” you said quietly. “It’s just... I don’t want to burden anyone with my problems. Especially you.”

He reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His fingers lingered for a moment, the touch warm and reassuring.

“You’re not a burden, (Y/N),” he said softly, his voice thick with sincerity. “And if you ever feel like you are, I’ll be the first one to remind you that you’re not. We’re friends, right?”

You nodded, your throat suddenly tight. You felt something stir in your chest, a warmth spreading through you as Stiles’ gaze never wavered.

“More than friends, though,” you murmured, not even realizing you’d said the words until they were out in the open. You felt your cheeks flush, but when you looked up at him, you saw the surprise in his eyes.

“You mean...?” he trailed off, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves. “Yeah. More than friends.”

There was a long beat of silence between you, a breathless pause where everything seemed to hang in the balance. You watched as Stiles’ expression shifted, the playful grin replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. He reached out and gently took your hand in his, his thumb grazing over your skin in a way that sent a flutter of nerves through you.

“I’ve been wanting to say something for a while now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t want to mess things up. But... I really like you, (Y/N). More than I should, probably. And I’ve been kind of terrified to tell you that, because... well, it’s you. You’re amazing. And I’m just... well, me.”

You felt your heart race as his words sank in, your chest tightening with emotion. You had no idea that Stiles felt the same way, and hearing it out loud made everything seem more real, more intense.

“You’re not just you,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “You’re Stiles. And that’s more than enough.”

He smiled then, the same goofy grin that you loved, but this time it was softer, more genuine. Slowly, almost like he was afraid you’d disappear if he moved too fast, he leaned in and kissed you. It was brief, but the moment his lips touched yours, a wave of relief washed over you. Like everything was falling into place, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

When he pulled back, his hand still holding yours, his eyes were full of that familiar mischief, but there was something deeper there, too—something raw.

“See?” he said, teasing once more. “Told you I was the best distraction.”

You laughed, your heart still racing. “I think you might be right about that.”

Stiles grinned, leaning back in his chair, but this time, he didn’t let go of your hand. It felt different now, more intimate, and you both knew that this was the beginning of something more than just a friendship.

In the middle of all the chaos, all the supernatural madness, you had found something simple, something real. And for once, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

You're too kind, I can't take it! I might just faint-

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.” 

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.

Throwback to this work of fucking art. Literally my fantasies put into words. Thank you, your majesty, for your beautiful creations you share with us thirsty peasants. 💜

I just know for a fact that while Stiles is still majorly crushing on his girl best friend, he continuously pokes her just to annoy the fuck out of her and get a reaction (even if it's very negative, anything counts), but deep down, he also really enjoys any physical contact, no matter how much or how little. I JUST LOVE THAT SILLY LITTLE GUY

PLEASE OKAY, this is going to be a whole thing now ~ i also literally took this way off book and just kept writing but please i agree 10000000% with your idea, clearly! also didn't expect to get an 18+ warning here but the last paragraph is not for minors!

it doesn't help that this beautiful specimen has too much energy; he is constantly moving, and the need to touch and feel becomes a necessity once he finds himself absentmindedly gravitating closer to you at every minuscule opportunity. and to an extent... you know that it is his language of needing comfort, a silent plea for grounding; so you allow the way his shoulder or thigh sits against yours at the lunch table, or how he steadies himself with his hand on your shoulder as he reverses the jeep. at the cinema, you even reached out to hold his hand when you noticed how he fidgeted with a fraying piece of string from the hem of his lacrosse hoodie.

you gave stiles comfort, and the schoolboy crush he had developed since he was fourteen only grew more rapidly. with this comfort came confidence - and his hands, or any part of his body, always found a way to be near you. he remembers clearly when the wind had been wild during one night of a lacrosse game, he watched as you pulled your coat closer to your shivering frame, but he focused more on tucking loose strands of hair back and away from your face. stiles' knuckles were so delicate as they caressed the velvet skin of your cheek as they rose from your smile and he knew in that moment that he never wanted to be apart from you again.

stiles so easily gains happiness from the small squeal you make as his fingers jab gently into your sides - how you'd jump, squirm, laugh at the ticklish sensation that shook your frame and he adored the sound. to no end. it was a reaction that fuelled him but even when the moment drew an annoyed sigh or slap away of his hands, he kept going - absorbing your energy, hearing your voice, feeling your hand against the sensitivity of his skin is what made his heart swell more for you.

when you hug him - man, he can hear angels sing, he can feel his body ignite with warmth as his blood courses with a shot of serotonin that would last hours. stiles would react immediately as his arms wrapped themselves around you, pulling your body close to his, his nose gently nuzzling against your temple. he would never feel more content than in these fleeting moments of an over-loving heart that brought butterflies alive within his chest. these were moments of pure happiness.

then, you had moments of pure angst. ones that caused his eyes to sting, and his heart to act in a completely different way - it would ache, a heaviness that clenched and twisted, that left the boy in pain. your fists were balled as they pounded at his chest, the sound of your cries piercing through his ears as he felt each fist clash with much more dismay than he thought possible. an argument, a fight, a case of miscommunication and anguish that led to two souls falling apart. stiles let you go as he stood still and your hands continued to push and pull at his chest, until he felt scared... he would do anything for you, even if it meant that he would break, but the possibility of losing you was much worse. so he would grab your wrists gently, enough to stop you as he peered into your watery eyes. he was on the verge of tears himself before he pulled you to him as close as humanly possible and he held you. tight. until the cries ceased, and your trembling arms held him back.

it was straight out of a romantic comedy the first time he kissed you. stopping you in the middle of talking, his willpower to control himself slowly sinking away until he thought 'fuck it'. you were shining so bright, epitomising the sun and he loved it. he leaned across the small space between you both as you sat in the jeep, his hands grabbing at your cheeks as his lips pressed to yours. he was so gentle with you, as if one ounce of roughness would break your delicate composure. you were gorgeous, porcelain fragility in the palm of his hands and he wanted to treat you so well, so right. the prodding of one's tongue, a moment in which was so whimsical neither could remember who initiated it, however, it was a moment indeed that sealed every emotion that was bubbling within the boy. the depth and caressing, the dance of tongues and harmonious rhythm as you both moved... it was his favourite touch, by far.

stiles felt both at ease and completely on edge when he was inside of you. a strange concoction of a racing heart that was utterly peaceful, the sensation of running a marathon and taking a well-earned deep breath, melting from a fiery heat whilst also chasing cooling tranquillity. the way you hugged every vein and ridge as he plummeted into you, over and over again, was a dizzying effect. his fingers digging into your exposed skin as he held you so close - one unit moving together over plaid bedsheets, friction burning against his skin as you soothed it with wandering hands that covered every inch of him without fault. his lips dragged lazily as he panted, your neck, your chest, your lips, swelling with purple-pink hues. nothing could beat the feeling of having you fall so beautifully apart around him.

stiles stilinski's love language is touch, abso-fucking-lutely.

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.”

who do you ship stiles with in the show?

That's a tough question because I wish I could ship myself with him haha. Anyway. In all seriousness, I like Stalia more than Stydia... I don't know, they just seemed like a better match and I loved their dynamic. Also, their breakup was so confusing which bugged me, but regardless... I just feel like Lydia's feelings for Stiles weren't expressed well enough for me to like them together, but that's just me. And I don't really like her that much to begin with but that's a whole different rant I could go on.

Thanks for asking! 💜

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."

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.

THE GRAY HAIRS? HIS HAND? OH MY GOSH?