Hi, How Are You? So, I Have A Fic Idea. I Don't Know If You've Ever Watched Supernatural, But It's Kind

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 💜

Guys, I appreciate the support, but @obriengf knows I exist... Let the poor gal be 😭

Slow Morning

Word count: 339

As Dylan slowly and comfortably begins to wake up from one of the best rests he's had in a while, he pulls his girlfriend closer, pressing her back to his chest. He hums contently and mumbles softly against her hair, "Morning, sleepyhead."

When he doesn't feel any movement in response from her, he lifts his head and looks at her peacefully sleeping face, bringing a smile to his lips. Evidently, she's still recovering from the previous night of fun they had after not seeing each other for a week, which felt like forever to them. He moves her hair away from her neck and presses lazy kisses against her skin.

"Wake up, sleepyhead... I need my morning affection," Dylan whispers as his pecks to her face and neck continue, causing her to softly groan and recoil, curling up into a ball underneath the covers. He chuckles, noticing her desperation to keep sleeping. "Hey, come back up here," he says, while wrapping his arms around her torso and pulling her back into the cuddle.

She sighs softly, letting her body relax again, until she feels a gentle bite to her neck. In a groggy and somewhat whiney tone, she protests, "Dylan..."

He chuckles again and uses an innocent tone, "Hey, I was being gentle. Just relax and let me wake you up."

"I don't want to wake up though..." Her words slur a bit due to her present sleepiness.

His hold on her gets a little tighter, "But think about all the benefits of waking up, like eating breakfast, and kissing your boyfriend, and listening to LA traffic, and kissing your boyfriend, and... and kissing your boyfriend..." He laughs lightly and buries his face into the crook of her neck.

A small smile appears on her face, yet she keeps her eyes closed. Her tone becomes more content and even a little cheerful, "Ok... But give me like, ten minutes."

Dylan laughs again and nuzzles into her neck more. "Ok. Ten minutes. But after that, I need your cooperation."

"Deal."

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.

Amen to that! 🤭

Can totally picture stiles gf having a special bra strap that she solely uses for binding his wrists, while he writhes underneath. But doesn’t dare attempt releasing himself from fear that he wouldn’t be able to survive the punishment of waiting even longer before you touch him. Or finally letting him touch you.

(Would anyone want any more of this?)

Write

Write one about stiles please, could be a imagine or a blurb, or smutt... 🫣 Anything, please babyyy🤗

Note: Thank you for the support! I have no idea if I'll ever write real, hardcore smut, but I guess we'll see... However, I did write something random and a little fluffy. I hope you like it :)

Break-In

Word count: 530

It was late when Stiles tumbled through his girlfriend's bedroom window with a thud as his lanky body hit the ground, abruptly waking her up. She quickly sat up and looked around with confusion, until his head popped up into her view.

Groggily, she questioned him and his ungraceful actions, "Stiles? What are you doing here? And what time is it? And can you not be so loud?"

He simply sighed and rolled his eyes as he crawled onto her bed, speaking with extreme sarcasm, "Oh, I woke the beast. Fucking fabulous."

"Excuse me?" Her tired eyes narrowed at him and he conjured a not-so-genuine smile. Seeing through it, she spoke bluntly, "Stiles, why are you here?"

His smile quickly faded, leaving him with a pout, "I miss you..."

She looked at him for a moment, searching his eyes for any hidden intentions. "Physically or emotionally?" she asked, with caution.

The question threw him off-guard, and he responded warily, "Why are those my only options?"

"Because you're acting suspicious," she stated bluntly.

He stared at her with incredulity, "Missing my girlfriend is suspicious?"

"I suppose not, but breaking into her house could be considered highly suspicious"

Stiles shrugged as he spoke, "Yeah, but I break into your house all the time. This is just normal behavior for me."

She looked down and nodded slowly in hesitant agreement, "True... So, what do you want?" Her eyes met his again, still filled with suspicion.

"Can you just trust me when I say that I honestly and sincerely miss you?" Stiles was getting tired of the interrogation, and desperate for the comfort he went there for. Although, he recognized that her tone was similar to one he'd used countless of times, and deep down, he felt a small sense of pride to know that his attributes rubbed off on her.

"Well, that brings us back to my first question: physically or emotionally?" she said, keeping her chin up, despite how groggy she still was from being woken up less than five minutes ago.

He couldn't believe that all this bickering led them absolutely nowhere, and his light frustration showed in his voice, "I-... Both!? Just..." He sighed before continuing with a softer tone, "Relax, and let me hug you."

Her expression dulled and she nodded, feeling a yawn catch up to her. Relieved by her compliance, Stiles scooted closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. His familiar comfort consumed her as she breathed him in, and they slowly leaned back onto her bed, his body laying on top of her's. Feeling her hands move up and down his back and her lips planting a kiss to his hair brought a smile to his face. He lifted his head just enough to gently and slowly kiss her.

"For the record, I missed you too," she said quietly, unable to hide the smile she had, matching his.

A faintly smug look appeared on his face. "I knew it," he remarked, before closing his eyes to kiss her again.

It didn't take long for the cuddled couple to peacefully fall asleep, sharing each other's warmth and love after such a silly and meaningless debate.

Just busy thinking about that trope where Stiles and Stuart are twins and they share a girlfriend...

Both of them are probably a bit possessive of her, showing it with their eyes as they watch the other around her, but don't say anything, knowing that the conflict would only end up hurting her in some childish argument.

Stiles is definitely more open about his desires to show his affection with physical touch. Stuart probably has just as deep of a desire for that but isn't as bold. He's definitely more subtle and isn't big on PDA.

The two probably internally compete to give her the most pleasure when in the bedroom, but refuse to be vocal about it, because, again, it'd only cause her more stress.

Noah has probably walked in on the three of them snuggling on the couch and quickly moving away from each other more than a few times. They do their best to keep him from finding out because they don't even want to imagine his reaction.

Perhaps they take turns going out with her on somewhat public dates for personal romance purposes, but they try to be a bit discreet so that no one suspects the truth about their situation and judges them for it. Plus, the secrecy adds to the fun.

And all of the cuddling possibilities... They probably refuse to be anywhere but on either side of her. Why would they miss out on her touch by being next to their brother? So, she stays in the middle, turning over every so often to face the next twin after some time with the other. Maybe sometimes she has to forcibly decide their positions to vanquish their petty bickering and greedy hands.

She really tries to treat them equally, give them plenty of attention, and make sure that neither of them feels left out, and they couldn't be more grateful. In turn, they are always there to listen and support her when she's upset or going through a hard patch, looking at her lovingly, wiping away her tears, holding her hands, and giving her sweet words of encouragement.

Just some thoughts though...

P.S. If anyone wants an actual blurb about this, let me know :)

Lost in the Dark

Word count: 798

"Stiles, where the hell are we going?"

Stiles' focus remained on the road as his girlfriend of just a few months (and best friend since preschool), sat in the passenger seat of his Jeep with growing anxiety. His narrowed eyes didn't leave the dark road as he tried to answer casually, "Don't worry about it."

She looked at him gobsmacked and her voice slightly raised with panic, "How on Earth am I supposed to not worry? We've lived in Beacon Hills all our lives, and I have never seen this road. Ever."

Stiles, trying not to panic just as much as she was, did his best to scan the area as he drove. "Psh, we've been here plenty of times. Remember a couple of years ago, when we, uh... we, you know... uh..." Sighing in defeat, he caved, "Ok, fine. I have no idea where we are."

Hearing him admit the truth made the reality of the situation sink in quickly, making her exclaim with worry and annoyance, "Stiles! You promised me a relaxing, late night drive, not a trip to the middle of nowhere!"

He rubbed his forehead regretfully, trying to remember what mistake he made that led them to this road in the first place. "I know, I know, but maybe it isn't so bad. Just look at all the... thousands of trees surrounding us that all look the same..." He glanced over at her and caught a glimpse of the intense glare she had, pointed right at him, causing him to marginally wince.

"If I don't make it home safe and alive, you can bet your ass that my father will hunt you down, whether you're still alive or not." Stiles simply nodded as she spoke, avoiding the thought of her dad and his menacing scowl.

As Stiles continued driving down the unfamiliar roads and paths, and making 'educated' guesses on how to get back home, his girlfriend shifted nervously in her seat. At one point, Stiles slowed down and squinted his eyes into the inky woods, towards the passenger side, and spoke ponderously, "Oh, look. Maybe we can ask that guy for directions."

With a spark of hope present in her, she turned her attention to where he was looking. However, that spark was quickly put out and replaced with frustration and fear as she exclaimed, yet again, "Stiles, that's a fucking mountain lion!" Stiles' eyes widened and he quickly drove off and further down the road. She ranted on about how much of an idiot he was and how much she no longer trusted him to escort her anywhere.

He interjected defensively, "It's pitch black out here, how am I supposed to distinguish a man from a mountain lion in these conditions!?"

She didn't hesitate to snap back, just as snarkily, "Well, maybe if you hadn't gotten us lost in the first place, you wouldn't have to worry about that!"

"Oh, excuse me for not having a GPS built into my brain!" Stiles looked at her, bugged by her matched fieriness.

"It's a real shame you don't, we should definitely look into that!" The tension between the two seemed to be reaching its peak until both of their attention was drawn to the vehicle as it slowed down. Her tone turned into one of confusion, "Stiles, what are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything," Stiles frantically looked for the source of the problem as he spoke, still holding onto the steering wheel. He, too, was very confused by the turn of events, until the realization hit him. He hesitated to speak, knowing that the information he was about to reveal would only make him seem like even more of an idiot.

Nevertheless, his girlfriend knew him better than she knew herself, and she could easily read that adorable face of his. And so, she spoke warningly, "Stiles... Just say it."

He sighed, trying to build up the courage, and leaned his head back against the headrest. He looked over at her apologetically, and his voice softened with a hint of nervousness, "We're out of gas..."

She stared at him blankly, slowly digesting his words. After a moment, and after Stiles was about to freak out from the way she was looking at him, she just burst into laughter and bowed her head from the intensity of it. He was completely unprepared for that reaction and looked at her with concern.

"Wha-... What? Why are you laughing? You are laughing, right? What's happening?" he spoke cautiously, yet worriedly.

She lifted her head, still very amused, and barely got the words out between her inapt giggles, "We're so fucked."

And so, Stiles couldn't help but laugh along with her, choosing to enjoy his girlfriend's presence and her sweet laugh, despite the predicament they were in.

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.