Stiles On His 100000th Rant Of The Day My Beloved

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.”

what experiment were you doinf when you made the other acount?

Hi! I was just curious how much more interaction/attention little smutty posts get vs. fluffy oneshots, or if there was a difference. Turns out, there is. My other account has gotten more feedback in a much shorter amount of time. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but I do think it's interesting. However, we're all just humans with silly fascinations.

Thanks for asking! I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend 💜

◇◈◆ S & S Twins AU Masterlist ◆◈◇

An alternate universe where Stiles Stilinski and Stuart Twombly are twins and share a girlfriend.

◇◈◆◈◇

◆ General:

◇ Study Buddies 

◇ Cute

◆ Rants, Headcannons, etc:

◇ Just busy thinking... 

◇ Stuart and his girlfriend

◇ S&S mood board

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.

Not possible, sorry 💜

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.

Thank you for including me, gorgeous! Of course, I had to add another dob character 🤭

Tags: @inlovewithdob @navybrat817 @julianasversee @c19ulo44 💜

; 𝘁𝗮𝗴 𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲 .ᐟ

It's time for another tag game everybody! This one's because I missed valentines day... So here ya' go! Sweet treat from Joy 🤍

; pick a fictional character, a small gift and a sweet treat. Your date is perfect now!

npt: @pizzaapeteer @moonpascal @foodiegoogie @notyaslol @lov3notts + anybody who'd love to join!

Have fun, hun 🤍

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

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

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

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

The Recoil

Word count: 573

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

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

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

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

"Stiles...?" she asks softly.

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

"What are you doing?"

"Just, you know. Enjoying the recoil."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're very cute, Stiles."

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

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

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

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

PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU - REQUEST SOMETHING.

My problem is that I don't have any ideas, but I want to write and I feel bad that I haven't written anything in such a long time.

I don't know if I'll do straight-up smut, but I will gladly hint at it in a bunch of fluff.

I feel like I know Stiles' character the best, but I can try some of the others of Dylan O'Brien's if I've seen the show/movie before. Also, I'm totally up for dabbling in some Bucky Barnes stuff if anyone would like that too...

***I will most likely only do x female reader imagines (without y/n, pet names, or an original character to keep as many people happy as possible).

Yes, this is a cry for help: help me help you.

Thank you, thank you.

I'm passing away

I don't have time to write an entire drabble or whatever, but please, in honor of Christmas Eve, just think for a moment about Stiles frantically wrapping presents and making an absolute mess.

Imagine it's late, almost midnight, and he completely forgot to wrap the gifts he bought. He's huffing and puffing, shoving the paper over the boxes and other strangely shaped items, and smashing a ridiculous amount of tape on every corner and crevice. It's a shit show, but he needs to get it done.

In the middle of this chaos, his girlfriend calls him to wish him a good night and whatnot, and she can hear his rushed frustration and trouble with making his two lanky hands work the way he wants them to. She asks him if he's ok and what the hell is he doing?

He brushes her off and simply tells her that he forgot to do something important, yet again. She easily guesses the task at hand, thanks to all the noise he's making, and offers to come over and help him.

He quickly shuts her down in a slight panic, telling her that she absolutely cannot come over. She then pesters him about why he's so against the prospect, and eventually he caves: most of the presents are for her.

Merry Christmas Eve to everyone who celebrates and happy holidays to all! I hope everyone has a lovely day and good luck to those who are struggling! 💜