Throwback to this work of fucking art. Literally my fantasies put into words. Thank you, your majesty, for your beautiful creations you share with us thirsty peasants. đ
I just know for a fact that while Stiles is still majorly crushing on his girl best friend, he continuously pokes her just to annoy the fuck out of her and get a reaction (even if it's very negative, anything counts), but deep down, he also really enjoys any physical contact, no matter how much or how little. I JUST LOVE THAT SILLY LITTLE GUY
PLEASE OKAY, this is going to be a whole thing now ~ i also literally took this way off book and just kept writing but please i agree 10000000% with your idea, clearly! also didn't expect to get an 18+ warning here but the last paragraph is not for minors!
it doesn't help that this beautiful specimen has too much energy; he is constantly moving, and the need to touch and feel becomes a necessity once he finds himself absentmindedly gravitating closer to you at every minuscule opportunity. and to an extent... you know that it is his language of needing comfort, a silent plea for grounding; so you allow the way his shoulder or thigh sits against yours at the lunch table, or how he steadies himself with his hand on your shoulder as he reverses the jeep. at the cinema, you even reached out to hold his hand when you noticed how he fidgeted with a fraying piece of string from the hem of his lacrosse hoodie.
you gave stiles comfort, and the schoolboy crush he had developed since he was fourteen only grew more rapidly. with this comfort came confidence - and his hands, or any part of his body, always found a way to be near you. he remembers clearly when the wind had been wild during one night of a lacrosse game, he watched as you pulled your coat closer to your shivering frame, but he focused more on tucking loose strands of hair back and away from your face. stiles' knuckles were so delicate as they caressed the velvet skin of your cheek as they rose from your smile and he knew in that moment that he never wanted to be apart from you again.
stiles so easily gains happiness from the small squeal you make as his fingers jab gently into your sides - how you'd jump, squirm, laugh at the ticklish sensation that shook your frame and he adored the sound. to no end. it was a reaction that fuelled him but even when the moment drew an annoyed sigh or slap away of his hands, he kept going - absorbing your energy, hearing your voice, feeling your hand against the sensitivity of his skin is what made his heart swell more for you.
when you hug him - man, he can hear angels sing, he can feel his body ignite with warmth as his blood courses with a shot of serotonin that would last hours. stiles would react immediately as his arms wrapped themselves around you, pulling your body close to his, his nose gently nuzzling against your temple. he would never feel more content than in these fleeting moments of an over-loving heart that brought butterflies alive within his chest. these were moments of pure happiness.
then, you had moments of pure angst. ones that caused his eyes to sting, and his heart to act in a completely different way - it would ache, a heaviness that clenched and twisted, that left the boy in pain. your fists were balled as they pounded at his chest, the sound of your cries piercing through his ears as he felt each fist clash with much more dismay than he thought possible. an argument, a fight, a case of miscommunication and anguish that led to two souls falling apart. stiles let you go as he stood still and your hands continued to push and pull at his chest, until he felt scared... he would do anything for you, even if it meant that he would break, but the possibility of losing you was much worse. so he would grab your wrists gently, enough to stop you as he peered into your watery eyes. he was on the verge of tears himself before he pulled you to him as close as humanly possible and he held you. tight. until the cries ceased, and your trembling arms held him back.
it was straight out of a romantic comedy the first time he kissed you. stopping you in the middle of talking, his willpower to control himself slowly sinking away until he thought 'fuck it'. you were shining so bright, epitomising the sun and he loved it. he leaned across the small space between you both as you sat in the jeep, his hands grabbing at your cheeks as his lips pressed to yours. he was so gentle with you, as if one ounce of roughness would break your delicate composure. you were gorgeous, porcelain fragility in the palm of his hands and he wanted to treat you so well, so right. the prodding of one's tongue, a moment in which was so whimsical neither could remember who initiated it, however, it was a moment indeed that sealed every emotion that was bubbling within the boy. the depth and caressing, the dance of tongues and harmonious rhythm as you both moved... it was his favourite touch, by far.
stiles felt both at ease and completely on edge when he was inside of you. a strange concoction of a racing heart that was utterly peaceful, the sensation of running a marathon and taking a well-earned deep breath, melting from a fiery heat whilst also chasing cooling tranquillity. the way you hugged every vein and ridge as he plummeted into you, over and over again, was a dizzying effect. his fingers digging into your exposed skin as he held you so close - one unit moving together over plaid bedsheets, friction burning against his skin as you soothed it with wandering hands that covered every inch of him without fault. his lips dragged lazily as he panted, your neck, your chest, your lips, swelling with purple-pink hues. nothing could beat the feeling of having you fall so beautifully apart around him.
stiles stilinski's love language is touch, abso-fucking-lutely.
Happy International Women's Day! đ
Mentally, this is how I'm spending it đ¤
Can someone explain why we're shipping Stiles with Bella Swan? Did I miss something? What is happening?
who do you ship stiles with in the show?
That's a tough question because I wish I could ship myself with him haha. Anyway. In all seriousness, I like Stalia more than Stydia... I don't know, they just seemed like a better match and I loved their dynamic. Also, their breakup was so confusing which bugged me, but regardless... I just feel like Lydia's feelings for Stiles weren't expressed well enough for me to like them together, but that's just me. And I don't really like her that much to begin with but that's a whole different rant I could go on.
Thanks for asking! đ
You're too kind, I can't take it! I might just faint-
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 couldnât 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. Â
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 itâs no surprise that they listened, although somewhat begrudgingly. Â
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.Â
As if on cue, they both lifted their heads to look at her and she looked between them in turn. Â
âThere she is,â Stiles said with an adoring grin.Â
âItâs about time,â quipped Stuart.Â
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 wasnât a single thing she could do that wouldnât make them ruminate on her excessive amounts of âcutenessâ, as they say. Apparently, all of that walking and enthusing tuckered her out, because she was out like a light, slumped against Stuartâs shoulder in the backseat. She figured one of them must have carried her inside and upstairs.Â
âWhat time is it anyway?â she said before yawning.Â
Stuart glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. âAlmost eight.â His fingers traced random patterns on her arm, still wrapped around his waist.Â
âWow. Iâve been asleep this whole time?âÂ
âYeah, itâs very cute,â Stiles said, nuzzling into her hair blissfully.Â
âAgain, with the âcuteâ thing? Arenât there any other words you can use to describe me?â As of recently, sheâd been growing tired of their teasing insistence. âCuteâ was basically their new favorite word.Â
âNope. Youâre cute, itâs time to accept it,â Stiles stated simply.Â
âIâm not rejecting it!âÂ
âYes, you are. And itâs not very nice,â Stuart added.Â
She couldnât 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.Â
âWhat!? How am I not being nice?â she exclaimed.Â
âYou know exactly how. Donât try to act all innocent.â Stiles was too sly for anyoneâs good.Â
âIâm not-âÂ
âOh, come on. We all know what youâre doing,â interjected Stuart. âYouâre fishing for compliments! You know, your greed is gonna catch up with you eventually.â He wore a poker face that was convincing enough to make her face flush, turning rosy.Â
Stiles lifted his head and caught a glimpse her warm pout and chuckled, saying, âOh, donât do that, you know weâre just messing with you.âÂ
âWhatever. Iâm hungry.âÂ
âSo thatâs why youâre so grumpy,â Stuart started, but stopped and furrowed his eyebrows when he felt her begin to release herself from their holds. âWait, where are you going?â He and Stiles both tightened their grasps.Â
âTo the kitchen. Iâm hungry.â Her repeated words were blunt because, to her, it was obvious.Â
âWoah, wait a damn minute, you canât leave yet!â Stiles said.Â
âWhy not?â She narrowed her eyes at him, looking behind her.Â
âBecause.âÂ
âBecause? Thatâs it?âÂ
âYes!â he asserted.Â
âWhat he means,â Stuart glared at his twin, âis that we... uh... really, really donât want you to.â 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.Â
She sighed, beginning to move again, and he knew this meant he only had one choice left. âOk, ok, weâre sorry, weâre sorry... Please donât get up. Seriously.â He paused to think, then continued, "Hey, how about you stay here, and someone brings food to you?âÂ
The girl smiled slightly and began to relax into the bed again. âAlright. I can agree to that.âÂ
Stilesâ face lit up. âPerfect! Stuart will go.âÂ
Stuartâs 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 canât beat his brotherâs ass when their girlfriend is anywhere near him; he would not take that risk. Â
He took a couple of seconds to relax (for now, heâd get his revenge after she went home), then leaned down to press a sweet kiss to her forehead. âAnything for the cutest girl in the world.âÂ
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. Â
As soon as Stuart left the room, Stiles pulled her impossibly closer, relishing in the few moments of alone time.Â
âYou know Stuart is going to kill you, right?âÂ
âYeah, I know.âÂ
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 wasnât in grave shambles and didnât require every penny he had, he might consider walking away and finding some other job. But alas, Dairy Queen was a necessary evil.Â
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. Â
However, he already had six little burns on his poor fingers from the fry oil, and he accidentally exploded another blizzard yesterday â the fourth one thus far. The manager gave him a warning, but they both knew that Beacon Hillsâ DQ was quite understaffed. They needed him, or someone like him. Stiles was the only applicant in many months. Â
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. âWelcome to Dairy Queen. What can I get for y-â Stiles froze as his eyes made contact with hers. Â
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. Â
Her smile at the awkward moment reeled him back in and he cleared his throat, blinking a few times. âSorry, uh... How can I help you?âÂ
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 couldnât stop the grin that formed on his face. Stiles was smitten!Â
He could see it all, right then and there: the sparkling ring heâd put on her finger, the long white dress sheâd wear, the quaint home theyâd live in together, the fuzzy puppy theyâd adopt. Everything wouldâve 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. Â
A pit formed in Stilesâ 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. Â
He rubbed his forehead, trying to get his bearings. âUm, what was that?âÂ
An annoyed sigh left the âmanâ before he recited his order again: the most disgusting concoction Stiles had ever heard. Yep, he definitely hated him. Â
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. âFuck, not again...â he muttered, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in frustration. The only bright side was that it wasnât her blizzard that exploded. Â
That stupid guy had the nerve to look over and laugh, pointing a finger at poor Stiles. âOh shit! Is it babyâs first day? Do you need a napkin?â he mocked, followed by more obnoxious laughter.Â
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.Â
âKnock it off, Victor. Heâs just trying to do his job.â 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. âIâm really sorry about him.âÂ
âItâs alright. Iâd probably laugh too.âÂ
âMaybe, but that wasnât just a laugh...â She lowered her voice as she continued, embarrassed by her boyfriendâs actions, âThat was an outburst.âÂ
Stiles suddenly felt horrible for her. The look on her face showed that this wasnât an unusual occurrence, and the guilt she clearly felt wasnât fair. Everything inside of him told him to hop over the counter and save her â run away with her, hug her close, and make her feel safe, loved, and appreciated. Unfortunately, that wasnât an option, and Victor looked like he could knock him out with one good punch.Â
âHey, really, itâs ok. Donât feel bad on his behalf.âÂ
Her smile partially returned. âWell, thank you. Iâll make sure he gives you a good tip.âÂ
âAlright, Iâm looking forward to it,â he said, chuckling.Â
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 Victorâs existence and focused on the beautiful smiling angel instead. Â
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 couldnât explain why or how, but he knew he felt something strong for her. Â
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 heâd 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 heâd ever see her again, but he certainly hoped so. Â
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 think a singular kiss on the cheek from Stiles could actually cure me of all ailments. THAT BOY, I CAN'T! And the smirk he gives afterwards... Yeah, I'll be passed out on the floor.
Pairing â Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader
Summary â Some headcanons I have for dating Stiles!
Memoâ This is probably kind of ooc because I'm so overdue for a Teen Wolf rewatch but I think these fit well!
Word Count â 543
Stiles is the type to send you a million texts throughout the dayâsome sweet, some completely unhinged. One minute, itâs âThinking about how cute you looked this morningâ and the next, âIf I turned into a dog but still had my head, would you still love me?â
He constantly finds ways to make you laugh, whether itâs dramatically re-enacting entire movie scenes, putting on ridiculous accents, or just making weird faces at you from across the room.
Despite all his chaos, heâs actually incredibly attentive. He notices when your mood shifts, when youâre overwhelmed, and when you just need a moment of quiet.
If youâre having a bad day, he shows up with your favourite snacks, a hoodie that smells like him, and a marathon of your comfort show queued upâno questions asked.
He definitely overthinks things sometimes, but it just means he puts extra effort into making you feel special. You offhandedly mention liking a certain kind of drink? Now your pantry is stocked with every flavour from that brand.
Stiles is obsessed with holding your hand. Walking? Holding hands. Sitting on the couch? Your fingers are laced together. Driving? One hand on the wheel, the other squeezing yours.
He makes up the most ridiculous pet names for you, and the worst part is they change daily. One day itâs âSugar Muffin Supreme,â the next itâs âDetective Snuggle Pants.â You never know whatâs coming next.
He will 100% go out of his way to find the weirdest, most specific memes that he knows will make you laugh and send them at random timesâespecially if he knows youâre busy and trying to be serious.
Heâs your biggest hype man. Whether itâs a new outfit, a school achievement, or something as small as getting out of bed on a tough day, heâs right there cheering you on like you just won an Olympic medal.
Loves teasing you but gets so soft the second you give him a look. His sarcasm might be legendary, but the second you pout, heâs pulling you into his arms and muttering apologies against your hair.
If youâre having trouble sleeping, heâll tell you the most nonsensical, rambling stories until you eventually pass out. Half of them involve conspiracy theories or supernatural creatures, but his voice is so soothing that it doesnât even matter.
Absolutely insists on dramatic forehead kisses. Any excuse to lean in close, pause for dramatic effect, and press a slow, lingering kiss to your skin like heâs in a romance movie.
Stiles is a huge cuddler. Heâll dramatically sigh and drape himself over you like a human blanket, whining if you try to move away. Whether itâs spooning, you lying on his chest while he traces patterns on your back, or tangled limbs on the couch while watching TV, he always has to be touching you in some way. If you get up in the middle of the night, he groggily mumbles âNooo, stay,â and tries to pull you back into bed. He doesnât even care if heâs boiling hotâhe will suffer in the name of cuddles.
Stiles loves you with his whole heart, and heâs not subtle about it. He's loud, ridiculous, and a little chaoticâbut also warm, unwavering, and completely, hopelessly devoted to you.
đ
stiles had always been a nervous wreck. he easily became overwhelmed. he spoke at a quick pace as he struggled to ramble out his jumbled thoughts. there was an annoying habit he had of never looking anyone in the eye. he had a permanent wrinkle in between his brows from how much he furrowed them.
things shifted once he became hers and she became his. he was at ease whenever she was around. his shoulders relaxed and his hands no longer felt clammy. he didnât need to wring his fingers out when he paced back and forth. the buzzing sound of overlapping voices silenced around him. the world slowed down and he was able to catch his breath.
"Do you like Teen Wolf? Get the fuck out of here then." -Mr. Dylan O'Brien
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