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Dylan O Brien - Blog Posts
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.
THE GRAY HAIRS? HIS HAND? OH MY GOSH?
I'm passing away from my cramps right now so let me just make it known that Stiles would be the best cuddler when his girlfriend is on her period.
We all know that he gives great hugs and loves to snuggle, but his attention to detail really shines when his girl is in pain. He knows exactly what to do to help depending on what kind of pain she's in.
If her cramps are in front, right by her belly button, he'll lay behind her curled-up form, gently placing his hand on the affected area, which acts as a biological heating pad of sorts.
In the opposite scenario, where her cramps creep to her lower back (literally me right now), he'll let her bury her face into his chest while his arms wrap around her to allow his fingers to carefully massage those tender muscles.
He will happily stay there for as long as she wants and needs, or move so she can switch to a different position. He doesn't mind, only wanting her to be as comfortable as humanly possible, despite all the"disrespect", as Stiles would say, her body is giving her.
Anyway, the moral of the story is that the boy knows how to take care of his girl, and boy oh boy do I wish that I was that girl right now.
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.”
Dairy Queen Dream
Word count: 1,030
I'm so sorry that this took me so long to write, but here it finally is! Big thanks to @sleepyminyard for the encouragement! I'm considering making a second part someday, but I'll let you guys decide. Also, if you've seen American Assassin, I used Victor's name and description (kinda) from that movie to help myself visualize better. My sincerest apologies for the slight angst, but I hope you enjoy!
Stiles walked into work with a sigh. He was officially an employee of Dairy Queen for a whole week, though it already felt like it had been a year. He thought working at a fast-food establishment would be easy; he was wrong. Training nearly killed him, thanks to that stupid ice cream machine. Maybe it was his clumsiness that made using it such a struggle, but he believed the thing had it out for him. If his Jeep wasn’t in grave shambles and didn’t require every penny he had, he might consider walking away and finding some other job. But alas, Dairy Queen was a necessary evil.
He supposed it was sort of fun sometimes. He enjoyed discreetly tossing a few bits of candy into his mouth now and then, and talking to the costumers in the drive-thru with the headset made him feel like he was receiving orders from his captain on a spaceship.
However, he already had six little burns on his poor fingers from the fry oil, and he accidentally exploded another blizzard yesterday – the fourth one thus far. The manager gave him a warning, but they both knew that Beacon Hills’ DQ was quite understaffed. They needed him, or someone like him. Stiles was the only applicant in many months.
Hearing the bell above the door chime, signaling that another customer was entering, he made his way over to the counter, not paying any attention to what was in front of him. “Welcome to Dairy Queen. What can I get for y-” Stiles froze as his eyes made contact with hers.
Just looking at her made his face flush, turning a deep red, and his hands suddenly felt clammy. He had never seen someone with such pure beauty. Every little detail pierced him as his gaze took her in. She was almost overwhelming.
Her smile at the awkward moment reeled him back in and he cleared his throat, blinking a few times. “Sorry, uh... How can I help you?”
As she gave him her order with that euphonious voice, he felt dizzy. And when the blizzard she asked for was the exact same as his favorite (since he was five years old), he almost felt out of breath. He couldn’t stop the grin that formed on his face. Stiles was smitten!
He could see it all, right then and there: the sparkling ring he’d put on her finger, the long white dress she’d wear, the quaint home they’d live in together, the fuzzy puppy they’d adopt. Everything would’ve been perfect. Until he watched painfully as a tall, well-built, Ryan Gosling lookalike wrapped an arm around her waist and began listing his order too.
A pit formed in Stiles’ stomach, making him nauseous. He knew nothing about the guy, yet he already hated him. He unknowingly blocked out everything he said, too busy with the jealousy that began to spark inside of him.
He rubbed his forehead, trying to get his bearings. “Um, what was that?”
An annoyed sigh left the ‘man’ before he recited his order again: the most disgusting concoction Stiles had ever heard. Yep, he definitely hated him.
Stiles stared at him from around the corner as he made his blizzard, s He was too consumed to notice his hands drifting away from the mixer, causing ice cream to splatter everywhere, including all over him. “Fuck, not again...” he muttered, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in frustration. The only bright side was that it wasn’t her blizzard that exploded.
That stupid guy had the nerve to look over and laugh, pointing a finger at poor Stiles. “Oh shit! Is it baby’s first day? Do you need a napkin?” he mocked, followed by more obnoxious laughter.
Holding back because he knew his manager was in his office, Stiles bit his lip. To his surprise, a voice did come through to defend him.
“Knock it off, Victor. He’s just trying to do his job.” The angel of a girl stepped in front of him and urged him to take a seat in one of the booths. She then looked back at Stiles and gave him a sweet, sympathetic smile, which he returned. “I’m really sorry about him.”
“It’s alright. I’d probably laugh too.”
“Maybe, but that wasn’t just a laugh...” She lowered her voice as she continued, embarrassed by her boyfriend’s actions, “That was an outburst.”
Stiles suddenly felt horrible for her. The look on her face showed that this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, and the guilt she clearly felt wasn’t fair. Everything inside of him told him to hop over the counter and save her – run away with her, hug her close, and make her feel safe, loved, and appreciated. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option, and Victor looked like he could knock him out with one good punch.
“Hey, really, it’s ok. Don’t feel bad on his behalf.”
Her smile partially returned. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure he gives you a good tip.”
“Alright, I’m looking forward to it,” he said, chuckling.
With that, Stiles quickly wiped up what he could and made a new blizzard for the douchebag, this time without making a massive mess and a fool of himself. Once all of their order was together, he carried the trays to their table, making sure to flip both of the blizzards. He completely ignored Victor’s existence and focused on the beautiful smiling angel instead.
Walking away was harder than he thought it would be. In the short amount of time since he met her, he somehow grew attached to her. He couldn’t explain why or how, but he knew he felt something strong for her.
He decided that watching her enjoy a meal with that scum was too much for him to bear, so he went on his lunch break and got some fresh air outside. He hoped that he’d at least see her lovely face one more time before they left, but when he came back inside, they were gone, just a crumpled ten-dollar bill left in their place, and his heart cracked. Stiles had no idea if he’d ever see her again, but he certainly hoped so.
Dairy Queen Dream
Word count: 1,030
I'm so sorry that this took me so long to write, but here it finally is! Big thanks to @sleepyminyard for the encouragement! I'm considering making a second part someday, but I'll let you guys decide. Also, if you've seen American Assassin, I used Victor's name and description (kinda) from that movie to help myself visualize better. My sincerest apologies for the slight angst, but I hope you enjoy!
Stiles walked into work with a sigh. He was officially an employee of Dairy Queen for a whole week, though it already felt like it had been a year. He thought working at a fast-food establishment would be easy; he was wrong. Training nearly killed him, thanks to that stupid ice cream machine. Maybe it was his clumsiness that made using it such a struggle, but he believed the thing had it out for him. If his Jeep wasn’t in grave shambles and didn’t require every penny he had, he might consider walking away and finding some other job. But alas, Dairy Queen was a necessary evil.
He supposed it was sort of fun sometimes. He enjoyed discreetly tossing a few bits of candy into his mouth now and then, and talking to the costumers in the drive-thru with the headset made him feel like he was receiving orders from his captain on a spaceship.
However, he already had six little burns on his poor fingers from the fry oil, and he accidentally exploded another blizzard yesterday – the fourth one thus far. The manager gave him a warning, but they both knew that Beacon Hills’ DQ was quite understaffed. They needed him, or someone like him. Stiles was the only applicant in many months.
Hearing the bell above the door chime, signaling that another customer was entering, he made his way over to the counter, not paying any attention to what was in front of him. “Welcome to Dairy Queen. What can I get for y-” Stiles froze as his eyes made contact with hers.
Just looking at her made his face flush, turning a deep red, and his hands suddenly felt clammy. He had never seen someone with such pure beauty. Every little detail pierced him as his gaze took her in. She was almost overwhelming.
Her smile at the awkward moment reeled him back in and he cleared his throat, blinking a few times. “Sorry, uh... How can I help you?”
As she gave him her order with that euphonious voice, he felt dizzy. And when the blizzard she asked for was the exact same as his favorite (since he was five years old), he almost felt out of breath. He couldn’t stop the grin that formed on his face. Stiles was smitten!
He could see it all, right then and there: the sparkling ring he’d put on her finger, the long white dress she’d wear, the quaint home they’d live in together, the fuzzy puppy they’d adopt. Everything would’ve been perfect. Until he watched painfully as a tall, well-built, Ryan Gosling lookalike wrapped an arm around her waist and began listing his order too.
A pit formed in Stiles’ stomach, making him nauseous. He knew nothing about the guy, yet he already hated him. He unknowingly blocked out everything he said, too busy with the jealousy that began to spark inside of him.
He rubbed his forehead, trying to get his bearings. “Um, what was that?”
An annoyed sigh left the ‘man’ before he recited his order again: the most disgusting concoction Stiles had ever heard. Yep, he definitely hated him.
Stiles stared at him from around the corner as he made his blizzard, s He was too consumed to notice his hands drifting away from the mixer, causing ice cream to splatter everywhere, including all over him. “Fuck, not again...” he muttered, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in frustration. The only bright side was that it wasn’t her blizzard that exploded.
That stupid guy had the nerve to look over and laugh, pointing a finger at poor Stiles. “Oh shit! Is it baby’s first day? Do you need a napkin?” he mocked, followed by more obnoxious laughter.
Holding back because he knew his manager was in his office, Stiles bit his lip. To his surprise, a voice did come through to defend him.
“Knock it off, Victor. He’s just trying to do his job.” The angel of a girl stepped in front of him and urged him to take a seat in one of the booths. She then looked back at Stiles and gave him a sweet, sympathetic smile, which he returned. “I’m really sorry about him.”
“It’s alright. I’d probably laugh too.”
“Maybe, but that wasn’t just a laugh...” She lowered her voice as she continued, embarrassed by her boyfriend’s actions, “That was an outburst.”
Stiles suddenly felt horrible for her. The look on her face showed that this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, and the guilt she clearly felt wasn’t fair. Everything inside of him told him to hop over the counter and save her – run away with her, hug her close, and make her feel safe, loved, and appreciated. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option, and Victor looked like he could knock him out with one good punch.
“Hey, really, it’s ok. Don’t feel bad on his behalf.”
Her smile partially returned. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure he gives you a good tip.”
“Alright, I’m looking forward to it,” he said, chuckling.
With that, Stiles quickly wiped up what he could and made a new blizzard for the douchebag, this time without making a massive mess and a fool of himself. Once all of their order was together, he carried the trays to their table, making sure to flip both of the blizzards. He completely ignored Victor’s existence and focused on the beautiful smiling angel instead.
Walking away was harder than he thought it would be. In the short amount of time since he met her, he somehow grew attached to her. He couldn’t explain why or how, but he knew he felt something strong for her.
He decided that watching her enjoy a meal with that scum was too much for him to bear, so he went on his lunch break and got some fresh air outside. He hoped that he’d at least see her lovely face one more time before they left, but when he came back inside, they were gone, just a crumpled ten-dollar bill left in their place, and his heart cracked. Stiles had no idea if he’d ever see her again, but he certainly hoped so.
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.
His little smirk...
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."
I don't know when I'll have time to write again, which I apologize for - it makes me sad too. However, when I do get around to it, what would everyone like to see first?
(The Wampus Cat AU has a reader x Stiles childhood friends to lovers trope :))
Stuart Twombly exchanges lots and lots of sassy, bratty remarks with his girlfriend until they inevitably make out and touch every inch of each other.
Thank you for your time.
Stuart Twombly exchanges lots and lots of sassy, bratty remarks with his girlfriend until they inevitably make out and touch every inch of each other.
Thank you for your time.
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.”
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! 💜
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! 💜
Rules on request??
Can you do one where Stiles finds out his girlfriend has a chronic illness like lupus or something and he adjust his life to be there every step for her. Even the time in the hospital he stays and sleeps in the bed with her holding her. He always seemed like he would be the golden retriever type 🩷 and she doesn’t or does know about the pack you choose
This is literally the sweetest request ever and so on brand for him! I decided to "give" her something else because I don't know anything about lupus. I am definitely not a medical expert of any kind and I do not claim to be, but I have a couple family members who have the chronic illness I chose, so I am slightly familiar with it. Everyone should always do their own research though! What I wrote mostly focuses on the events before finding out, but I can continue this and go into more detail on what happens afterwards if people would like me to. Also, I apologize, but the last third, give or take is kind of rushed. I hope you like it though! Thank you for the request!
Also, I will take any request with a grain of salt and tweak things if I need or want to. But I'm open to anything!
Battle Together
Word count: 1,658
His heart was racing and falling at the same time. There was no way this was actually happening, right? Not to her.
His hands shook as he gripped his phone to his ear. Focusing on Scott’s voice was getting increasingly more difficult as he tried not to spiral. Why didn’t her dad tell him? Why wasn’t he with her right then, holding her hand and sweeping away her worries. Shit, he was so worried, and Scott clearly didn’t know all of what was actually going on.
“Scott, wait, what are you saying?”
“She’s here. In the hospital. All my mom told me was that she passed out and now they’re doing brain scans.” His friend was plainly shaken up too.
Brain scans? Stiles felt sick. Everything he witnessed his mother go through when he was a little boy crashed into him all over again. What if this was the same thing? What if she had what his mom had? What if-
“I’m on my way.”
Stiles broke nearly every traffic law in existence as he raced to Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, to his beloved girlfriend. He needed to get there as fast as possible; he needed to know what was going on. He absolutely despised being out of the loop.
Frantically sprinting into the building and nearly running into not one, but two nurses who were going home for the night, he arrived at the front desk. But where the hell was Melissa?
His feet almost left the floor when the sweet voice broke through his rapid breathing, saying, “Oh good, you’re here. Come with me.”
Stiles turned to look at the curly-haired, soft-eyed woman. He couldn’t help that his voice trembled as soon as he opened his mouth. “What’s going on? Is she ok? Did something happen to her? Have they found anything yet? Why did-”
“Stiles.” Melissa placed her aged hands on his shoulders in an attempt to ground him. “Breathe. Everything’s going to be fine. She’s going to be fine.”
“Do you really know that...?” he asked hesitantly.
She paused for a moment, understandably. There was no way to know anything for sure. Not yet, at least.
“Let’s just go see her for now, ok?”
He nodded and let her guide him to his girlfriend’s room. As they walked, Ms. McCall told him everything she knew. She explained that the poor girl had passed out in the kitchen while helping her dad prepare dinner, banging her head on the corner of the granite countertop and burning her forearm with spilled gravy in the process. Her father practically carried her to the car as soon as she hazily woke up and brought her in to the hospital. Her second-degree burn was cleaned and treated before the doctor decided to check for a concussion. Hearing the true explanation for the CT scan relatively eased Stiles’ nerves, but there was still so much to decipher. He needed to see her, preferably immediately.
They reached the door of the room she was checked into when they moved her from the ER. However, Melissa did not reach for the handle, causing Stiles to give her a look of curiosity.
“Stiles,” she started, exhaling a deep breath, “I want you to be prepared for whatever this is.”
His curiosity deepened and twisted as the spires of concern within him sharpened and stood taller. “Wha- what does that mean?”
“It means that, sometimes, something as small as passing out isn’t always as small as it seems...”
The woman’s eyes were filled with a specific type of pain, one that Stiles was familiar with, but hadn’t seen in her for years. Since he was so young when his mother was sick, he never truly realized how much agony Melissa experienced as she watched a dear friend (and that friend’s family) of hers suffer. It brought her a horrible aching sensation to see the damage a singular disease could inflict on three good, genuine people, and not be able to do something significant to help. That was her job – to help. But there was really nothing she or anyone was capable of to improve the situation.
Stiles swallowed in a faulty attempt to soothe his suddenly dry throat. He simply nodded, and in return, the sweet nurse gave him an empathetic smile. Of course, she didn’t want to scare him with what she said, but she had given bad news too many times that week.
“Are you ready?”
He sighed, trying to take her advice and finding it incredibly arduous. “Yeah, I think so.”
As they quietly entered, Stiles’ eyes softened upon seeing the girl who stole his heart sitting up on the hospital bed. She looked incredibly tired, but watching her mouth curve upwards when her gaze met his made him feel like the luckiest man alive. Not because of the situation, obviously, but because that cute little smile was for him.
“Hey, stranger.” Her raspy voice was surprisingly gleeful, all things considered. Perhaps Stiles just had that effect on her.
“Hey,” he chuckled. “You feeling ok?”
She simply shrugged and glanced at her father who was standing next to the bed.
Begrudgingly, the man cleared his throat and excused himself from the room. He supposed that giving the lovebirds no more than a couple minutes wouldn’t result in an utter catastrophe, even when Stiles is one of the pair in question, who hastily sat down on the edge of the bed as soon as the door clicked closed.
“Are you sure you’re ok? Do you need me to get you anything? What can I do?” He took her hands into his.
Her smile grew as she saw the love and devotion he had for her, not to mention the worry. She didn’t want him to stress himself out, but she had to admit that those wide eyes were adorable.
“I’m fine, I swear. Just... stay with me for a while?” she said, her voice turning bashful.
“Absolutely. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Got that?” His hands squeezed hers as he leaned forward.
“Yeah,” she nodded, her face approaching his, “I got that.”
As if he had a sixth sense for his daughter’s desires, the man swiftly entered the room again, causing both of the teens’ head to lurch backwards. Stiles tried to be sly as he slowly and awkwardly pulled his hands away and stood from the bed, backing away cautiously. A doctor stood in the doorway, along with Melissa.
“Dr. Vandenberg wants to run a few more tests while we wait for the CT scan results, just in case it’s not a concussion.” Her father began pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I have some things I need to do for work, but I’ll be back in the morning, alright? Is that ok with you?’
The information that was sprung on her felt like a spear piercing her spine and sending a poison of anxiety rushing through her bloodstream. All she could do was nod. There was no other option, anyway.
He nodded back at her before his eyes locked onto Stiles. “You’re staying with her.”
It was more of a command than anything, but the boy would never object to that regardless of whose mouth those words left.
“Yes, sir.”
Stiles was by her side for as many tests as he was permitted. He could tell that this was more frightening for her than she was divulging; it was harrowing. Therefore, he desperately desired to bring her some semblance of comfort. And he succeeded, to a degree.
Afterwards, their time together was briefly ceased while he picked up the closest thing to a couple of “real” burgers Beacon Hills could provide. They contentedly ate their late dinner together, squished against one another once she made room for him next to her. He kissed away the condiment that was smeared on the corner of her mouth, making her giggle.
Additionally, he held her close and kept his eyes glued to her form, making sure she was snuggly falling asleep without interruption. Without realizing it, he, too, was swept away into a slumber. Their trepidations momentarily fizzled and were replaced by fantasy-filled dreams, and morning rolled in fast.
When her father returned, the doctor explained the various test results they received. Stiles’ girlfriend was officially diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), a chronic illness which frequently inflicts dizziness and fainting due to a lower blood volume returning to the heart. It can be managed with an increased intake of salt and water, but will be part of her for the rest of her life.
Stiles felt a surge of anger at the news – there was nothing he could do to make this nuisance of a disease go away and his girlfriend did nothing to deserve it. However, he swore to himself that he would stay by her side, hold her hand, and keep her safe whenever her body got the best of her.
He kept his promise throughout the rest of school, their engagement after he proposed, and their marriage. He did whatever he could to help, whether necessary or not. He always went the extra mile for her, even though it wasn’t an illness that would debilitate her from living her life. However, it was definitely inconvenient and dangerous at times.
There was an instance in which she passed out while driving on the freeway, leaving her car to drift into the guard rails. Thankfully, there was very little traffic, so no one else got hurt. However, she was back in the hospital with a few minor injuries and her husband (for every minute of the stay).
This battle was never fought alone, and Stiles had a unique talent for making her feel cared for without any semblance of being coddled. He knew how admirably strong she was and exactly when she needed him to step in and hold her. POTS would not break her, nor their bond.
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.
With the Deer 🎄
Word count: 827
“It’s so cold.”
“Yeah, that’s what happens during Winter.”
“Winter doesn’t start until next week.”
Stiles whipped his head in his girlfriend’s direction, narrowing his eyes at her in both disapproval of her correction and admiration of her knowledge. "Whatever. It’s December. It still counts.”
She smiled and squeezed his hand, leaning closer towards him as they strolled through his neighborhood with Stiles insistently staying on the side of the gray pavement by the street. He knew the boyfriend code like the back of his perfect hand. That’s also why she was sporting his lacrosse hoodie, not him.
It was getting late, but tomorrow was the weekend, so without school haunting them, they didn’t have a care in the world. Their focuses were on each other and the Christmas lights that were strung across the houses, trees, balconies, and bushes.
The pair marveled at the vibrant, dazzling bulbs and the occasional character figures on the lawns or in the windows. There were lots of Santas, big and small; a few penguins; some snowmen; a handful of sleighs being pulled by reindeer; and a big, inflatable yeti (Stiles’ favorite).
Since this was their first Christmas as an official couple, he was adamant about honoring as many traditions with her as possible. He impatiently demanded that his father hang up their lights on the first of December; he got up early that morning to check all the bulbs so that the house would be completed right when his dad got home from work, which Noah wasn’t exactly excited to do after a long day. After that, he waited until at least 80% of his neighbors had put up their lights too. It was a painful wait, but definitely worth it due to the look on his girlfriend’s face.
Suddenly, his lips mischievously curved upwards as he spotted something at an upcoming house. Stiles leaned closer to her, his lips brushing against her ear as he softly spoke, “Hey. Go stand over there.”
She turned her head to look at him but his eyes stayed fixated on his target. “Where?”
Still smiling, he pointed at the arrangement of three large deer of different heights, depicting a family, with his free hand. His other hand released hers and reached into his pants pocket, retrieving his phone.
She glanced at the deer, made up of plastic, wire, and bright white lights, then at his phone in his hand, and her eyes met his face again. Her hand was already feeling close to frozen without his, and they stopped in front of the unfamiliar house.
“You want me to pose for a picture with the deer?” she inquired hesitantly, considering that it was a random person’s lawn.
“Yeah,” Stiles said simply, and he opened the camera app, still smiling. He looked up at her when she didn’t move right away. “Get your ass over there.”
“Ok, ok, I’m going...” She shuffled her way over to the deer and stood in front of them, facing her boyfriend and smiling.
The boy, so incredibly whipped, couldn’t pull his eyes away from the beauty before him. His hand holding his phone was still resting in the air by his belly button.
When she realized, her face filled with self-aware warmth. “Are you going to take the picture or not?”
His eyes widened and he tore them away. He fumbled with his phone, trying to lift it in a timely manner. “Yep! Yeah, I’m, um, I’m doing that right now.”
He did his best to pull himself together and focus, taking about forty pictures in the short span of ten seconds, even getting a few different angles. When he was finally done, he inspected a few of the pictures, and his big smile returned. He was completely entranced by the flow of the lights behind her, making her seem even more angelic than usual, and therefore not noticing that his girlfriend was by his side again, peeking over his shoulder to see the pictures too.
Eventually, Stiles realized this, and his gaze met her face. He tilted his phone in her direction, speaking affectionately, “Look at how pretty you are.”
All she could do was smile at him – she was far too consumed with love to even begin brainstorming a response. “I love you, Stiles,” she finally said.
He shoved his phone into his pocket and faced her once more. A big kiss was pressed from his lips to hers. “I love you too. So much. Like, so incredibly much.”
At some point, they made it back to his house and buried themselves underneath multiple layers of fuzzy blankets on his bed, desperate to warm up their chilly bones. It wasn’t until later that she noticed that Stiles had changed his wallpaper to one of the pictures he had taken of her with the deer. Her heart nearly melted. It was obvious how much he loved it, and it was obvious how much he loved her.
Note: Thank you for all the support on my last imagine! I appreciate you all 💜
I can't stop thinking about clumsy Stiles...
Butterfingers
Word count: 460
Everyone knows that Siles Stilinski can’t be trusted with something fragile for too long. His dad didn’t let him hold baby until he was twelve. And where was the sheriff? He was less than a foot away with his hands ready to catch the infant, just in case he knew his son as well as he thought he did.
Now that Stiles has the girl of his dreams, he does everything he can to protect her from any possible threat, no matter how big or small: open cupboards, hot plates of food, table corners, you name it. If he has to take the pain for her too, he will without hesitation. He welcomes those small, mysterious bruises for her sake.
Though, sometimes he can’t stop those threats, and sometimes he’s the cause of them. Accidentally, of course, because everyone knows about his slippery fingers. Just like last week.
His precious girl was perfectly draped against him as they relaxed on his bed. Thank goodness he remembered to hide the heap of laundry that was in their place just a few minutes before she came over. Anyway, her head settled perfectly against the front of his hoodie and she kept her arm tucked around his waist. Even as he scrolled through his phone, he couldn’t help but let his eyes flick downwards, unable to resist and needing to make sure that moment was truly real.
Everything was so peaceful. Until it happened. This was far from the first time that his butterfingers got the best of him, and it wouldn’t be the last.
The poor girl’s body jolted immediately after a hard block of technology crashed right into her head. Stiles’ eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He brushed his phone away as she lifted her head to look at him with a pout.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to do that.” His words stumbled out of him as quickly as his hands began to gently caress her little injury.
“Every single time, Stiles.”
He looked at her with sympathetic eyes, frowning. “I know, I know, I’m the worst.”
“No... You’re just a butterfingers,” she mumbled, settling against him once again and hoping the incident wouldn’t result in a headache later.
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Guilty as charged.” He massaged her scalp, forgetting all about whatever he was looking at on his phone.
“If I end up with a lumpy head because of you, I’ll kill you.”
Stiles couldn’t contain his smile as he spoke softly, “Hey, I’d still love you. You wouldn’t have to go that far.”
“Ok, fine. You can live,” she yielded, sighing as comfort washed over her again.
“Oh, what a relief. Just don’t go bald, ok? I don’t want to see the damage.”
P.S. I'm considering going back and adding word counts for all of my little imagines because they are so convenient and I just got a new laptop! Shout out to writers who add word counts lol 💜
Also, if you want to take a peek at my future plans/ideas, here you go. No pressure though!
My apologies, I know I made this forever ago. But I was vey conflicted with the results because they are so, so close (23 to 24) and I don't have as much of a backstory for the Guardian Angel concept as the Wampus Cat one. I know, why did I bother making a poll if I have an idea for one and not the other? Well, I wanted to see what people would be more interested in. Since both seem to be appealing to people and I couldn't brainstorm literally anything for the Guardian Angel concept, I made a tough choice.
At some point, I will write the backstory of the Wampus Cat girlfriend/reader (I try to make my work easy for people to insert themselves into, I like doing that too), but it won't have a specific storyline. It will just be an AU that I can make little imagines based on. I think that will work much better for me and my personal schedule and mental status.
As for the Guardian Angel concept, I would still love to make an AU based on that too, but it will not be prioritized yet. Also, if anyone has ideas for her backstory (where she came from, if she was born as a guardian angel, if she's from a different dimension, etc.) please, please let me know because my writer's block is driving me insane and I don't want to let go of this idea.
Again, I have no idea when I will get the Wampus Cat backstory written and out there, perhaps after the holidays. I'm sorry if this is disappointing news for anyone - I want to be an official writer on this platform, but I keep falling into pits; I'm disappointed in myself too. Requests are still open, regardless of when I get to them. I will gladly accept any and all ideas. Thank you!
TEAM. I NEED YOUR HELP.
I'm contemplating writing a Stiles x supernatural reader series (childhood best friends to lovers trope), but I'm torn between two ideas. To be frank, I can't promise when or if this will actually happen, but in case it goes at some point, I want to know ahead of time so I can start planning in the back of my mind.
• Option 1: Wampus Cat.
-I've done research on this legend, but if I write about it, I will twist it a bit. Or a lot. In my version of it, there's a curse that gets passed down to every first born son's first born daughter, giving her cat-like and hypnotic abilities, some of which are similar to or opposite of werewolves. Obviously, I will go into more detail in the series, but that is a quick glimpse.
• Option 2: Guardian Angel.
-For this idea, Stiles finds out that his girl best friend is actually his guardian angel, wings and all (including some extra pizzazz), when she rescues him. There will be some "angel rules" that are broken and some other religious themes, but I, personally, am not religious and do not intend to offend or invalidate anyone's religion or religious beliefs.
Thank you for your help! If this does end up happening and you'd like to be notified, I can make a tag list, just let me know. 💜
Only men carry their Christmas tree home with their bare hands.
A little blurb about the Stiles and Stuart twins trope because I can't stop thinking about their girlfriend studying with them...
Study Buddies
Word count: 660
She was perched between them on the couch with a textbook and notebook in her lap, and a pencil being anxiously twirled by her fingers in her hand. When she asked the t wo most intelligent people she knew to help her with her homework, this was not what she was expecting to happen. However, 'asked' is an understatement - she basically had to beg. Their drifting gazes and hungry eyes were clear evidence of how few of her words were actually being registered. Though, eventually, they snapped out of it and agreed to help her, only after she promised to let them have their fun once they finished.
So, there they were, Stiles, Stuart, and their girlfriend, as the boys', um, agitation grew. They were horny high schoolers, what did she expect? Well, focus, for one. And maybe just a little bit of tranquility.
"What the hell are you doing?" Stuart started.
"What do you mean?" Stiles said, looking up from their girlfriend's paper.
"I mean what the hell are you doing? That's wrong." Stuart pointed at the problem in her notebook that his twin was solving.
"What? No, it's not."
"Yes, it is, Stiles. Are you blind?"
"Nope. You're the one with glasses. Remember, dumbass?"
"I'm not the dumbass here since you're doing this wrong, dumbass."
The poor girl sighed and closed her eyes. Unfortunately, this wasn't an unusual occurrence, but that didn't make it any more pleasant to endure.
"Oh my god, Stuart, you're such a know-it-all. Well, guess what, ass wipe? You don't know it all."
"And you do?" Stuart retorted mockingly.
"More than you, at least."
"Then why are you doing this wrong?"
Stiles voice jumped in volume, "I'm not fucking doing it wrong! Holy shit!"
And Stuart's did the same in return. "Fine! Don't get all pissy at me when she fails her test next week then!"
Hearing Stuart depart from his usual low pitch was a little startling for the girl right next to him. She couldn't take it anymore. "Oh my gosh, will you guys stop?" she exclaimed, looking between the two of them with incredulity.
Their eyes flicked to hers, then returned to each other's for more glaring.
"I asked you guys for help, not a catfight," she continued.
The twins could see the frustration and stress on her face as she looked down at the stupid textbook in defeat, making their hearts quickly melt and guilt rise in their stomachs.
As if it was twin telepathy, they both reached their hand out and placed them on top of her thighs, one for each of them. Touch was one of the boys' favorite and most effective ways to console their girl - it was her weakness.
"Hey. I'm sorry," Stiles spoke softly.
"Yeah. I'm sorry too,"added Stuart.
She looked at both of them again, and seeing the sincerity in their maple eyes, she sighed and relaxed her shoulders. "It's fine... I'm just stressed out about this stupid assignment because I know that all of this will be on the test, and I have no idea what I'm doing, and you two are only making everything even more-"
"Ok, ok, it's ok," Stiles said, interrupting her anxious rambling.
"We're gonna help you now. Like, seriously. Don't worry." Stuart accepted the agreeing nod Stiles gave him.
She smiled and gave each of them a loving kiss, which they gladly returned. Damn, were they whipped.
By the end of the night, the twins' girlfriend felt more comfortable with the heavy load of information, and Stiles and Stuart got to release their loads, as she promised. Everyone was finally peaceful.
On the way back from the bathroom after cleaning up, Stiles glanced at the notebook one more time. He suddenly exclaimed, "Oh my god, I was wrong!"
"I told you." Stuart smirked, holding the tired girl close to him.
"Will you shut up-"
She dropped her head to Stuart's shoulder, groaning, "Guys. For fuck's sake, stop."
To His Left
It was Dylan's first day at his new school, the one he was transferring to in the middle of October during junior year. It wasn't very convenient timing, but his old school was a headache and a half. He was hopeful for his future in the new environment, regardless of the shy feelings creeping up on him.
He took a deep breath as he walked into his new English classroom a few minutes early, not wanting dozens of eyes on him in an instant. He immediately saw the bright smile of Mrs. Nixon, a young (mid-twenties), short, brunette, and cheerful woman who would be teaching him from now on. Her expression seemed to quickly ease his nerves, and he smiled back at her as he began to walk up to her desk.
He barely took his first couple steps before Mrs. Nixon spoke exuberantly, "Hi! Are you my new student? Dylan, right?"
He held onto the straps of his backpack tightly as it rested on his shoulders and nodded, his words falling out of his mouth, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's me."
"Perfect! I'm Mrs. Nixon, and oh my god. Sorry, I'm just so excited. This is a good class to join, as far as my junior classes go, I'm glad you were put in this period," she spoke rapidly, her ecstasy evident.
Dylan couldn't help but smile at her, appreciating her happiness just because of his presence. It felt good, so he tried to keep the conversation going, "Oh yeah? Do you teach another class?"
She sighed, then rolled her eyes as she spoke, "Yes, unfortunately. Half of my periods are full of freshmen."
Their comfortable chatter continued, and neither of them noticed that the bell had rang until his soon-to-be peers started flowing in. He looked around, realizing that he had no idea where he was supposed to go. Mrs. Nixon noticed his confusion and pointed to an empty desk, "Oh, Dylan, you can sit right over there, desk twelve."
He nodded as he walked over, trying not to let his face heat up when he heard Mrs. Nixon inform the class of his new presence and saw the eyes of everyone on him. He forced a polite smile and nodded as he sat down, and seconds after, his attention was grabbed by the gorgeous girl sitting to his left. His eyes widened a little and he hoped she didn't notice while she introduced herself with the most flattering smile he'd ever seen.
His words left him before he knew he was even speaking. "Nice to meet you, I'm Dylan," he said, feeling his hands get clammy.
"So I've heard," she spoke casually, making him chuckle nervously when he realized that Mrs. Nixon literally just told the entire class his name. "And it's nice to meet you too. If you have any questions about what we're learning about or the school, let me know."
He couldn't stop himself from smiling. She seemed so nice and laid back, as if talking to him was the easiest thing in the world, whereas he was struggling to contain all of his various emotions. She was either really good at this, or really good at pretending to be good at this. Either way, he enjoyed every second of their conversation.
"Sweet, thanks. I'll make sure to do that," he was a little disappointed when his attention was diverted to the lesson, right after he spoke.
As soon as the lesson was finally over, his gaze turned toward the girl to his left again. He really just wanted to talk to her again, the only problem was that he had nothing to say. He searched his scattered brain until she finally spoke and snapped him out of his staring, "You good?"
Dylan's eyebrows raised when he realized how weird he might have seemed, just looking at her without a word. He quickly tried to defend himself with a clearly forced tone of nonchalant, "What? Oh. Yeah, yeah, I'm all good. Just got distracted. But technically, it wasn't my fault."
She gave him a look of suspicion and tested his ability to keep his cool, "Oh really? So it's someone's fault that you got distracted?"
He smirked, hoping with his entire soul that he wouldn't mess this up, "Exactly. See? You're getting it."
Her eyebrows furrowed but she couldn't hide her small smile, "Getting what? What the hell are you talking about?"
He hesitated for a second, looking away. Screw it, he thought, and he shrugged his shoulders as he looked right at her again, "You're distracting me. I mean, come on. How am I supposed to not look at you?"
A bit of blush crept onto her cheeks and her smile unintentionally grew. She paused for a second, letting his words sink in and trying to think of how she could possibly respond to something so bold from someone she just met that day. She collected her wits and responded as confidently as she could make herself seem, "That's interesting, coming from someone who doesn't even know me. Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered, but have you considered the possibility that you just suck at focusing on anything other than girls?"
He suddenly felt his own face heating up, not having expected such a sassy accusation. He chuckled, mostly nervously, "I plead the fifth."
She simply rolled her eyes with a smirk as Dylan kept smiling like a dork. They knew that this seating arrangement was going to be entertaining for both of them, and Dylan was excited to have a pretty girl to look at during English, directly to his left.
Note: I have no idea if this is good or not, but if it somehow is and someone wants me to keep this storyline going, then I happily will. Just let me know :)
Hii 🥺
Could you write a Dylan O'brien fanfic about meeting his friends for the first time?
Thank you in advance ❤️
I LOOOOVE YOUR WORK! 🥰
Aw, thank you so much! I'm so, so sorry that it has taken me this long to post this. You are so sweet and deserve better smh. Anyway, I genuinely can't tell if this is shit or not, so hopefully it's not a disappointment after all this time...
Ten Minutes
Word count: 895
Dylan's girlfriend was peacefully perched on his couch, wasting the day away while he was off in the shower, trying to make himself presentable. Of course, she had no idea that was his goal, or why he abandoned their position on the cushions.
Minutes later, he returned, wearing fresh clothes as the strands of his hair still flopped soggily. He smiled as he approached her again, standing above her.
She looked up at him and tilted her head. "You're wearing real clothes?"
His head tilted to match hers. "'Real clothes?' What do you mean?"
"Yeah, like," she started, glancing down at her loose t-shirt and sweatpants, "clothes that you would face the public in."
Dylan couldn't help but laugh as he spoke, "What? I just want to look somewhat decent when they come over. Is that a crime?" He watched as the color drained from his girlfriend's face and her eyes widened.
"Wait, what?" she stammered. "Who's coming over?"
"Some of my buddies from the Maze Runner cast, remember?"
She shook her head and immediately sat up straight. "No... No, I don't remember, because you never told me anything about that."
"I'm pretty sure, I did," he said, his eyebrows furrowing.
"No, you did not, Dylan! When are the fuck are they coming over?"
He dug his phone out of his pocket to check the time. "About... Ten minutes or so?"
She sprung out of her seat on the couch and scrambled over to his bedroom to clean herself up as fast as possible, crying out, "Dylan, you bitch! This is my first time meeting your friends, who are famous by the way, and you didn't even give me a heads up!? I have ten minutes! I get ten minutes to turn myself into a pleasant representation of Dylan O'Brien's girlfriend!? Are you kidding me!? I'm going to look like a crazy person! They're going to think I'm a disgusting slob and shun me!"
He bit his lip from the living room, trying not to laugh at her frantic distress. "I'm sure you'll look as beautiful as you always do!" he called back.
"You're just saying that because I fucked you this morning!"
Although her words were spiteful, he had to quickly cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his burst of laughter. Obviously, he felt guilty for forgetting something that mattered so much to his girlfriend, but her reaction was priceless. And he knew appearances meant something, but watching her move so speedily was probably one of the most amazing spectacles he'd ever witnessed.
As she viciously brushed her teeth, she could hear the faint voices of the arrivals. By some miracle, she was (more or less) ready to be seen and introduced. She anxiously made her way back into the living room and put on her most welcoming smile.
There they were: Thomas Brodie-Sangster, Ki Hong Lee, Kaya Scodelario, and Will Poulter, standing in the living room. She couldn't believe it. Their faces were so real, but the moment didn't feel like anything close to reality. How in the world was she going to pull this off?
She took a deep breath and stepped to Dylan's side. He glanced down at her and gave her a gentle, reassuring smile - exactly what she needed. However, she could still feel her face heating up and her hands getting clammy, as if right on cue.
Her boyfriend was clearly quite comfortable with his crew and had no problem introducing her, and unfortunately, teasing her. She may have stumbled over her words here and there and hoped with her entire being that no one noticed those clammy hands mentioned as she shook each of theirs. But all things considered, the greeting went smoothly. Dylan, being the loving man that he is, made sure she felt grounded with soft touches on her back or arm, and he guided the conversation to ease her mind of that responsibility.
As they sat down on the couch, sharing stories and drinks, she realized that there hadn't been a single awkward moment yet. She smiled on the inside, proud of herself for making do with the ten minutes Dylan gave her, and even more in love with him after seeing the way he raved about her in front of his visitors.
When the door closed and the room was left to the two of them again, finalizing their departure, she let out a deep breath, mumbling, "I guess that wasn't so bad..."
Dylan caught it and smirked. "See, you had nothing to worry about. Ten minutes is plenty of time."
"'Plenty' is an exaggeration, but yeah, I guess I made it work."
His smile only grew as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. "They loved you, you know," he said, his voice lowering.
Her cheeks tingled as they changed shades, and she rested her arms around his neck. "Really?"
"Yes, really," he nodded, brushing his nose against hers.
The girl's eyes fluttered closed, relishing in the feeling of his wandering hands. They glided up her back after sneaking under her shirt. Clearly, he knew what he was doing and the effect he had on her.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"For what?"
"For making everything work out."
His smirk returned and he began pulling her in the direction of his bedroom. "Oh, I'm not done yet."
TEAM. I NEED YOUR HELP.
I'm contemplating writing a Stiles x supernatural reader series (childhood best friends to lovers trope), but I'm torn between two ideas. To be frank, I can't promise when or if this will actually happen, but in case it goes at some point, I want to know ahead of time so I can start planning in the back of my mind.
• Option 1: Wampus Cat.
-I've done research on this legend, but if I write about it, I will twist it a bit. Or a lot. In my version of it, there's a curse that gets passed down to every first born son's first born daughter, giving her cat-like and hypnotic abilities, some of which are similar to or opposite of werewolves. Obviously, I will go into more detail in the series, but that is a quick glimpse.
• Option 2: Guardian Angel.
-For this idea, Stiles finds out that his girl best friend is actually his guardian angel, wings and all (including some extra pizzazz), when she rescues him. There will be some "angel rules" that are broken and some other religious themes, but I, personally, am not religious and do not intend to offend or invalidate anyone's religion or religious beliefs.
Thank you for your help! If this does end up happening and you'd like to be notified, I can make a tag list, just let me know. 💜