a/n: april is autism awareness month and i wanted to do smth with our favorite boy! đ«¶đ» reader has lower support needs ( as this is based off of my experience as an autistic person with lower support needs ). not everything will be applicable to all readers.
heâs not unfamiliar with autism, exactly. he knows a lot of his adhd traits intersect with autism traits, but heâs never had a reason to explore it further.
until you.
when he learns that youâre autistic, he goes on one of his adhd deep dives ( sort of like when he went on the werewolf dive when scott was first bitten ).
he knows a LOT about diagnostic criteria ( and sometimes wonders if he himself fits it but thatâs for another time ).
he also learns what your dislikes areâ tastes, textures, sounds, etc. so he can do his best to keep them away from you. he also knows that are perfectly capable of doing those things yourself but he keeps track anyway because he loves you and he wants to help.
heâs never infantilized you before and he knows that you are your own person. god forbid anyone tries to take your autonomy or imply that because youâre autistic, you canât do simple things or basic tasks.
but if you do end up needing a little help here and there, he doesnât mind. he knows what itâs like to struggle with neurodivergence and heâs had a lot of practice with his own. maybe he messes up sometimes but he has good intentions.
he notices shifts in your behavior almost instantly. most of your friend group does but thatâs due to supernatural senses; stiles just has an innate focus on you and learns to tell when something is different.
and he does his absolute best to soothe whatever is causing your distress. if some of your classmates are talking too loud or yelling across the cafeteria, he asks to take you outside away from it. or if youâre at a party and suddenly thereâs too many people around, heâll take you to somewhere more secluded. overstimulation is a feeling he knows well, so he sympathizes and does what he can to aid you.
he memorizes a lot of your coping mechanisms. whether itâs the way you tap your fingers together or how you brush the fabric of your skirt back in forth because itâs a texture you like or the rapid onset of blinks that seem to go like clockwork, he knows them all. sometimes he uses them too.
YAP SESSIONS. having an adhd boyfriend is a blessing when it comes to conversation.
he can talk for hours on any of his given topics and so can you. hyperfixations and special interests go hand in hand and god forbid if both of you have the same one at the same time. it happened once and you both ended up staying up all night without realizing it because you were too in depth with your conversation.
and just because he likes to talk, it doesnât mean he wonât let you talk. sometimes when he needs his brain shut off, heâll ask you to talk about one of your special interests. not because it bores him, but because he likes listening to the sound of your voice and because your passion for the subject makes it interesting to him. he likes knowing why you enjoy things so much and it helps him when heâs feeling overwhelmed.
he downloaded a text-to-speech app for you for times when you go non-verbal. lydia did too but he was the first because he wanted to make sure that everyone was still able to understand you. communication king.
stiles is REALLY bad at following schedules but if you need one, he makes sure he has it memorized and reminds you when itâs time for something. he can do it for others but when it comes to himself ? not so much.
you went to give him a hug once and his shirt was a fabric/texture you hated, so he threw it away. he wants you to be comfortable around him.
he keeps your safe foods stocked at his house and some in his backpack just in case. once, the cafeteria decided to experiment with the menu and it did not turn out well.
if someone asks âwhat kind of autism do you have?â he gets defensive. as someone who has dealt with adhd stereotypes and ignorant comments, he hates to see it happen to you.
summary: in the aftermath of allisonâs death and the nogitsuneâs possession, stiles had pulled away until your relationship snapped. until one night when he has nowhere else to go but your doorstep.
a/n: this is not proofread we die like the suitors in the odyssey ( which is coincidentally the musical of which this fic was inspired by )
a/n: i have been trying to write this for days and i still am not fully happy with it but it is what it is ( also i recommend listening to âwould you fall in love with me againâ from the epic concept musical by jorge rivera-herrans while reading )
word count: 1k+
you knew things wouldnât be the same. after everything your friends had been through, change was inevitable. allison was gone. and while you knew that the nogitsune had been the cause, you also knew that stiles couldnât not blame himself. you knew that stiles had gone through something horrible, a terror that you couldnât imagine. but you had assumed that he would lean on you, turn to you in his hour of need, let you comfort him and tell him that it would all be okay.
he didnât.
instead, you felt the thread of your relationship grow so thin you werenât sure it existed anymore. he didnât seek you out, didnât tell his usual jokes, didnât offer you rides home, didnât do anything that the stiles from before would do. you wondered sometimes if you were a painful reminder of things that had been lostâ if he looked at you and saw something that he no longer was allowed to have for the things the monster inside of him had done.
he never officially broke up with you. there was no messy breakup, no screaming match or sobs. he was there one day and then he just. . . wasnât.
you didnât hate him for it. you wanted to. god, how you wanted to hate him for ignoring you, for turning you away when he so obviously needed you. but you couldnât. because you knew that he was still your stiles. he hadnât changed. he had hidden. you knew that he would come back eventually.
eventually came.
it was late, the last droplets of rain pelting the roof of your house with a slowly dissipating strength. you had dozed off while the storm outside had run its course, but something had roused you. a knock. two. several.
glancing at the clock on the wall, you had no idea who would be visiting at this hour. a gnawing feeling grew in your gut as you stood and walked towards the door. had one of your friends been hurt? was there an emergency to attend to? you threw open the door with a frantic look, panic in your eyes. but it wasnât bad news.
it was stiles.
his hair was wet from the rain, his eyes rimmed in red and his breathing heavy. he looked awful. his frame was sunken in, almost as if he were trying to diminish his presence. like he somehow bothered you for showing up. like he was afraid you would turn him away.
you werenât sure what to say. it had been so long since you had been alone with him, so long since he had intentionally sought you out. you wondered just what had happened to make him appear on your doorstep, shaking and afraid and looking as if he was going to collapse.
âstiles. oh my god, stiles, what happened to you?â
your voice was quiet, unsure if you would spook him by speaking too loud. he seemed torn. in more ways than one. you realized he hadnât moved and you stepped aside from the doorway, your face soft as you beckoned him in. it only took seconds for him to collapse against you, his head buried in the crook of your neck as you felt the sensation of tears against your skin.
you held him. you didnât know how long the two of you stood there, but you held him all the same. he was trembling, holding on to you as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered. you couldnât stand it.
gently, you pried him away from your body and he looked so broken it made your heart ache.
âwhat happened?â
he froze at the question, looking back at the door and for a moment you were convinced he was going to bolt. but instead, he sat down on the couch, his head in his hands as he answered.
âi killed him. i killed donovan.â
you sat down gently beside him, removing his hands from his face and cradling them in your own. and while part of you wanted to be shocked, to say he would never do something like that, the other part of you said he would. but only, only, if heâd had no other choice.
âokay.â
he looked at you, his expression puzzled, as if he hadnât quite understood what you said. and then his expression morphed to bewilderment.
âwhat do you mean âokayâ?! i tell you i killed someone and you just accept it?!â
âbecause i know you had a reason.â
you paused, searching for the right words.
âthe stiles i know, the stiles i love, would never kill someone without having a reason. itâs not who you are.â
âwhat if you donât know who i am? what if iâm not the same person? what if i donât know who i am? what if. . . what if scott was right?â
you paled, wondering what exactly scott had said to him. had he gone to scott first, tried to explain, only to be met with judgement and disappointment? had scott spurned him? the thought made you seethe. while scott was your friend, he had known stiles for years. how could he possibly question what stiles had done? how could he not believe that stiles was still at his core who he had always been?
âhe was wrong.â
âno, he was right. iâm not the same person. how could you love me? after what i did?â
you were furious. you stood, whirling on him, your voice raised as you countered.
âyouâre not?! then go take your jeep apart. scrap it! put that useless heap of junk where it belongs!â
he looked up at you, hurt in his eyes that quickly turned sour.
âhow could you say that?! you know what that jeep means to me! you know it was my motherâs, that itâs the last thing i have of hers! how could you tell me to get rid of something like that?!â
âif you had changed, you wouldnât care about that. the stiles i love always cared for it. so donât tell me that youâre not the same person. you are. you always have been. iâve been waiting for you to realize that.â
you had him. you knew you did the moment his gaze softened. his shoulders sagged with relief, letting out a shaking breath as you sat back down next to him.
you would deal with the aftermath later. for now, you had stiles. and that was more than enough.
itâs up!! not quite a full fic but itâs smth
i have this idea in my head but i donât know if i should write it out properly or just do a bullet point post for it. i feel like iâm better at bullet point format posts but what would you guys prefer??
a/n: i have no excuse for this except iâm 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 đ«¶đ»
stiles misses you.
he misses the sweet scent of your perfume when he walks past you and the lingering daze heâd be in from looking at you. he misses the saccharine smiles youâd give him and the playful ones youâd 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 thatâs 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 youâd 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 youâre here and youâre safe and youâre all that matters to him.
he even misses the way that you fight. riding in silence in his jeep until you canât take it anymore and yelling until you canât breathe until you finally give in to one another and have it out the way you need to. whether itâs 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 heâs alone, mind racing with anything and everything that wonât let him sleep at night.
he misses your clothes, the ones youâd 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 heâs afraid heâll forget what that smell is. the smell of home.
he misses driving around beacon hills with you in the middle of the night when youâre stuck doing werewolf patrol, the silly games youâd play and the way youâd 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 youâd send him while bored in class, not caring if you got caught and had your phone taken away. he misses the heart emoji youâd 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 youâd text him good morning and how youâd 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 donât want to hang up because you just want him. he misses knowing that youâre 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 canât 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.
i know i havenât posted in like a week but i pinky promise i have something cooking for yâall and iâll give u hints in emojis ( surprise surprise theyâre both stiles related )
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jealous stiles.
ok so i know i have a few jealous bsf! stiles posts but letâs talk about jealous BOYFRIEND stiles ( this is shorter than i wanted it to be but alas )
stiles is very unaware of how attractive he is. itâs a fact of life and youâre honestly baffled. so heâs surprised he even has an s/o at all.
in the beginning stages of dating, he has more of an insecure jealousy. he knows youâre attractive, so heâs never mad at you for it.
he just thinks that youâll realize he isnât good enough for you.
so he never really directly says heâs jealous and sometimes it causes a rift.
he gets silent and somewhat distant, brushing it off as being busy or supernatural drama. but you begin to catch on to his tricks and how it only seems to happen when youâve been asked out or flirted with in front of him.
and you reassure him that you love him, standing firm in your stance and while youâve never been secretive about your relationship with stiles, you begin to broadcast it more. for his sake ( and maybe just because you like bragging about your boyfriend. )
but i think once youâve been together for a while, he gets comfortable with your relationship. cocky, even.
itâs evolution to his natural confidence and you love it.
someone flirts with you and he drapes an arm around your shoulder, a lazy smirk on his face as he says that youâre spoken for.
public displays of affection are common for you two but it does seem to ramp up when he notices you getting more attention than normal.
and you ask him if it bothers him and he goes âonly because they think they have a chance with you.â
when itâs not outright jealousy, itâs shown in the form of possession.
you wearing his lacrosse jerseys, his jackets, him driving you to and from school, making it known that heâs with you. also hickeys. lots of them.
that possession also extends to his own appearance. he lets you mark him up any time you want and that makes him feel just as good as it does when you tell off some jerk for hitting on you when they know you have a boyfriend already.
his jealousy is never angry, only annoyance and it fuels his desire to show that youâre his partner and only his.
if someone has particularly bothered him or you about your relationship, he seeks you out and his actions are somewhat petty ( again, not towards you ).
heâll kiss you in direct view of the person who asked you out, borderline making out in a way that is not appropriate for a public setting. or asking about your plans later in a voice thatâs a little too loud for the school hallway just to make sure they hear that heâs the one you have plans with.
a/n: this was inspired by the song âat all costsâ from wish and i was going to do a full length fic but i canât quite get it right so right now hereâs a blurb! testing the waters to see if itâs smth yâall would want <3
you werenât supposed to dream.
in all of your years, you had never dreamt. no terrifying nightmares, no reliving moments of your past, no outlandish fantasies that fleeted from your brain the second you woke. not even when you were little. it had never been unusual to you, knowing that your family were dream guardiansâ or more commonly known in lore, sandmen.
you werenât sure when it had started, when the images of a boy with dark hair and equally dark eyes had started to come to you. but the longer it went on the more you grew attached, to look forward to sleep and to seeing the serene face in your dreams. there was no name, no identifying factor other than his soft features that brought you comfort rather than disturbance.
you kept it a secret. not because it was particularly dangerous or untoward ( as far as you knew ), but rather because it felt good to have something uniquely your own. and maybe because you were afraid if you told the other members of your family, the dreams would stop. and selfishly, you couldnât let him go.
stiles had never kept track of his dreams. most of the time they were weird and nonsensical and filled with allusions to his favorite nerdy media. and they never repeated. sure, some of them had the same premise or started the same way but there was always something different about them, something that made each one different. that was, until a few months ago when he had begun to dream of a mysterious girl. the first time he figured it was a product of his imagination, a fantasy he had created to combat his lack of a relationship. but then he dreamt of her again.
and again. and again. and again.
always the same over and over. the girl frozen in time, her eyes gentle and her smile kind. she never spoke but it seemed like she wanted to. of course, he had to be going crazy. how could a figure in a dream want anything? wanting was so completely and utterly human, something he knew very well after dreaming of her for months. he wanted to know her so much it bled into his waking hours, leaving him desperate for the time heâd close his eyes and see her again.
he didnât tell anyone. with all of the nonsense he and his friends went through, this small pocket of peace that he found in his sleep was something he wanted to keep to himself ( and maybe he was afraid theyâd make fun of him for making up a literal âdream girlâ ).
for months they dreamt of each other. always watching, memorizing until they could recall the features of the other as well as they could their own. neither of them understood the true depth of their connection, nor that it was real and more tangible than any dream had a right to be.
after all, the saying is âdreams do come trueâ.
i just realized i havenât posted in a bit, sorry all!! iâve had migraines for the better part of a week and havenât had the energy to post. chronic illness sucks lol
feel free to send me fluffy asks/prompts and iâll do my best to put some out soon <3 they donât have to be stiles centric ( i do other fandoms, the list is in my pinned post ) so send whatever :)
lazy cuddles with stiles sound sooooo good rn
like maybe youâve had a long day or maybe you took a day off just to be together. but youâre 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 itâs the tune of a song you like or maybe itâs random notes in a non-sequential order but nonetheless itâs a soothing sound.
you focus on his breathing at certain times, just to make sure heâs still there. reveling in the fact that heâs real and this is a moment you want to remember forever. itâs pure domesticity and bliss and you wish that it was always like this.
maybe he asks you questions or maybe heâs telling stupid jokes to make you smile because thatâs 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 youâre 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.
wtf is anon on ⊠if you donât like it, scroll.
keep doing you my dear and writing whatever the hell you want <3
making stiles and stuart be twins and share a girlfriend is kinda weird and kinky don't ya think?? like they wouldn't do that irl
Well, it's a good thing that we both have freewill, right? I get to write whatever I want and you get to read whatever you want đ
stiles and his best friend who is in love with him and he canât see it.
itâs no secret stiles stilinski is a nerd. heâs awkward sometimes and heâs never had that many friendsâ not that he really needed more than scott and you. he says his thoughts without thinking and his sarcastic nature gets him in trouble more often than not. and heâs never been good at talking to girls. girls he likes, that is. heâs been in love with lydia martin almost as long as youâve been in love with him. except you can count on one hand the number of times heâs spoken to the redhead without making a complete fool of himself. and if you werenât wishing it was you that made him trip over his words, youâd find it funny. but you do wish it was you, and you donât find it funny that all she does is blow him off.
itâs not as if your affection for stiles is a secret. heâs one of your best friends, of course you hug him and run your fingers over his buzzed hair and fix his shirt collar and help him with homework and joke about his jeep and do all of the things best friends do. but thereâs a yearning in all of those actions, a desire to mean more to him than what you are that consumes you. the lingering glances and the just-too-long touches are obvious to everyone else but stiles. he doesnât recognize that the way you act around him is the same way he acts around lydia. how could he? heâs never been the one girls want ( as far as he knows ).
scott tries to help. he really does. he sees how much you care for his best friend, can sense just how far gone you truly are. but it doesnât work. after all, if scott can be with allison, why canât stiles be with lydia? it could work. those words were said verbatim and it crushed you. why canât he see that someone already loves him? that the way he is now is the way you want him, always and forever. that he doesnât have to be popular or first line or supernatural or anything other than who he is at his core.
and when someone mistakes you for dating one another, he laughs. he laughs like itâs the funniest thing heâs ever heard and says, âsheâs my best friend.â and the finality in his tone snaps your heart in two but you smile and nod along as if itâs ridiculous that you and stiles would ever date. as if itâs not the one thing you want more than anything, as if itâs not the wish you make every time you blew out a birthday candle, as if itâs not the subject of your happiest dreams. stiles doesnât see you that way. he never will.
stiles and his best friend who canât take the pain of being in love with him.