I suddenly wish I was a snorkel...
Dylan O’Brien working out at Queens Park Waverley in Australia. (February 3, 2025)
📷©: jaydenseyfarth Instagram Story
SOMEONE SEDATE ME
(Not mine! All thanks to Pinterest :))
I can't stop thinking about clumsy Stiles...
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!
You're so sweet, thank you! I hope you're having a lovely Valentine's Day! 💜
Word count: 1,078
Happy Valentine's Day!
Stiles had it all planned out. It was going to be the best Valentine’s Day ever. It had to be; it was their first spent together as a couple. Some (Isaac) might say he was taking it too seriously, but he strongly disagreed. It was his duty to make his girlfriend feel as special and loved as possible.
With a big smile, he drove to the surprise destination, stubbornly refusing to answer all of her questions. She was radiating with excitement in the passenger seat – she had never had someone so dedicated to her happiness. It took all of her strength not to peek under the blanket in the backseat which was clearly hiding a menagerie of items for their date.
She was giddy, and seeing that on her face made Stiles giddy too. He did that. He was the one who was making her feel that way. And knowing that was the best feeling in the world.
“Can I at least get a hint or something? I need to mentally prepare!”
“Absolutely not. And don’t worry about mentally preparing, you’ll be very relaxed, I promise.” Stiles spoke with a calm yet adamant voice, though he couldn’t ignore his nerves. This was a big moment for him.
“Oh, I’ll be relaxed? Does this mean there’s a massage in my future?” she teased.
He smirked. “Maybe later if your gift is as good as I think it’s going to be.” He glanced at the neatly wrapped box sitting in her lap, filled with all of his favorite goodies and the new video game disk he’s had his eye on for his Xbox. She knows him better than he’d like to admit.
“Well, I guess we both just have to wait and find out then.”
“I guess so.”
The next ten or so minutes were peaceful, their chatting and laughter filled the air. That was until an unsettling screech made a bold interruption. Before they knew it, the Jeep was slowing down. Stiles instinctively pulled off the mostly empty highway. See, he took a route that he knew she wouldn’t recognize, one that most wouldn’t take on a holiday because it leads away from town and past all the popular scenic spots.
The poor guy was trying not to panic. He had just recently gotten major work done on the vehicle, so watching it break down yet again was beyond frustrating. He put it in park and stepped out with a huff, closing the door with a little bit more force than he meant to. Steam flowed from the front of the Jeep as he lifted the hood, making him cough a couple of times.
Seeing his anger and devastation as he cursed out his car was worrying for his girlfriend. She knew that he had spent over a week planning this, but she started to truly realize how much he truly wanted to do this for her as she, too, stepped out, making her way to his side.
“Stiles-”
He shook his head, looking at her with sincere remorse as he interjected. “No, look, I’m sorry. I know you were excited and this kind of ruins everything I had planned, but we could try again another day, you know? We could have another Valentine’s Day next week and just forget everything-”
She couldn’t believe what he was saying. Yes, he had always been hard on himself, but this was just ridiculous. “What? No. Stiles, I don’t care if it’s not perfect or not exactly how you planned, weren’t not just going to throw it all away. We still have time; we still have the whole evening.”
“Yeah, but we’re not going to make it to the beach in time for sunset and a tow truck could take hours, maybe all night!” he blurted, his frustration at the situation still growing.
Warmth filled her cheeks and a soft smile grew on her face. “You were taking me to the beach for the sunset?” she said delicately. Her heart had never felt so full.
“Yes,” he sighed. His hand then gestured toward the still steaming Jeep as he spoke, saying, “Yeah, I was… Until this stupid piece of-”
“You’re the most adorable, romantic, sweet, and loving man in the world.” Her words were filled with such sincerity that Stiles froze, his face turning to the same rosy red as hers.
“Wha-… Really? You’re not, like, mad or something?” For some incomprehensible reason, he was struggling to believe the situation at hand. How could she be so understanding? Why was she so calm? And smiling? What the hell was going on?
“Of course I’m not mad,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Why would I be mad when I have the world’s perfect boyfriend all to myself on Valentine’s Day?”
He was faltering, his hands barely making contact with her waist. “I’m not perfect…”
Her lips were firmly pressed against his instantly. “Shut up. Yes, you are.”
Stiles was floating, a nervous, blushing mess. How did he get so lucky?
After a little more convincing, Stiles agreed to go through with his plan on the side of the highway instead of the beach since they were still miles away. He made his girlfriend wait in the passenger seat with her eyes closed (he was very firm about that) while he moved the blanket from the backseat to the pavement and set up the red candles, red and pink flowers, sandwiches he made himself, and boxes of chocolates for dessert.
The scene in front of her when she opened her eyes was straight out of a romance movie. She was practically speechless as she moved towards the blanket to sit with her beau, both of them grinning uncontrollably. The evening turned out to be the most magical moment imaginable, beginning with a call with the towing company, of course. They spent the five-hour wait basking in the love they had for each other and the sunset that still made an appearance.
When it became too cold to sit outside any longer, they packed up and sat in the Jeep again, where Stiles opened his gift with glee. He nearly crushed her ribcage with the bear hug he gave her. And yes, it earned her a massage, of sorts, in the backseat.
Curled up against each other under the blanket, they exchanged handwritten love letters and read them out loud to each other, closing their very romantic date with a loving bang.
Word count: 938
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 :)
I'm opening Word right now, it'll be up tonight! Thank you all for your excitement!
WAIT I WANNA SEE DAIRY QUEEN STILES!!! PLEASE WRITE THAT EVEN IF IT DIDNT WIN THE POLL PLEEEEASE 😩😫😻
I'm planning on it, I promise! I keep thinking I'll have time to write, and then end up swamped. So I'm not sure when that will happen, but it's next on my list! I appreciate your excitement, my dear 💜
This is so adorable, ARE YOU KIDDING ME? AAAAHHH 💜
s1!stiles stilinski x gf!reader
creds: roseraris for dividers!
you were perched on stiles’ bed, watching him pace back and forth across his room, his hand moving animatedly as he talked about the latest werewolf drama involving scott.
the police radio scanner on his desk crackled with static, and his wall was covered in red string and newspaper clippings - his latest attempt to piece together all the supernatural happenings in beacon hills.
“and then scott practically wolfed out in the middle of practice!” stiles exclaimed, running a hand through his short hair.
“like dude, we talked about this! control! but no, apparently catching greenberg’s crossbody was worth risking exposure to the entire lacrosse team!”
you couldnt help but smile at his sarcasm. this was classic stiles - all nervous energy and rapid-fire words, trying to keep his best friend alove while maintaining some semblance of normalcy in their increasingly bizarre lives.
“stiles,” you said, trying to interrupt his rambling to no avail. “stiles!”
he stopped mid-gesture, turning to look at you with those warm brown eyes that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. “yeah?”
“come sit down before you wear a hole in your floor.” he glanced down at the path he’d been treading, then shuffled over to sit beside you, his knee bouncing with restless energy.
“sorry, i just… there’s so much happening, y’know? between scott’s furry little problem and trying to figure out who the alpha is, and my dad’s cases, and-“
“and you’re carrying all the weight of it.” you finished softly, placing your hand over his fidgeting ones.
stiles fell quiet, a rare occurrence that made you look at him more closely. his eyes were fixed on where your hands touched, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head.
“how do you do that?” he asked suddenly.
“do what?”
“just… know exactly what to say? how to calm me down?” he turned his hend over to lace his fingers with yours.
“you’re like my personal adderall, except, y’know, prettier and less medical.” you laughed, feeling your cheeks warm.
“did you just compare me to you ADHD medication?”
“i did, didnt i?” stiles groaned, his free hand coming up to cover his face.
“that was supposed to be romantic. in my head, it was definitely more romantic. can we pretend i said something smooth instead? like, i dunno, ‘you’re the moon to my werewolf’ — wait no, that’s worse, that’s definitely worse—“
you cut off his rambling the only way you could think of – by leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. for a moment, stiles froze, and you could practically hear his brain short-circuiting.
then his hand came up to cup your cheek, and he was kissing you back with all the pent-up energy he usually put into solving supernatural mysteries.
when you pulled away, stiles blinked at you several times, his mouth opening and closing without sound – another rare occurrence.
"did you just—" he started.
"kiss you? Yeah."
"and I—"
"kissed me back? also yeah." a grin slowly spread across his face, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.
"that was... wow. that was awesome. can we do that again? we should definitely do that again. like, right now. or whenever you want. im free for the next, like, forever—"
this time when you kissed him, you were both smiling too much for it to be perfect, but somehow that made it even better.
the police scanner crackled again in the background, and somewhere in beacon hills, scott was probably getting into more werewolf-related trouble, but for now, none of that mattered.
stiles pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. "just so we're clear," he whispered, "this means you like me, right? because i really like you, and it would be super awkward if—"
"stiles?"
"yeah?"
"we’ve been dating for 6 months."
"oh yeah… cool," he breathed, then immediately cringed.
"i mean, not cool like 'whatever' cool, but cool like 'this is the best thing ever' cool, and im going to stop talking now because im pretty sure im ruining the moment, and—"
you silenced him with another quick kiss, and felt him smile against your lips.
"you know," he said when you separated, "i think i just found my new favorite way to be shut up."
the police scanner suddenly burst to life with his dad's voice reporting a disturbance downtown, and stiles' eyes lit up with that familiar mix of curiosity and excitement.
"want to go investigate a potentially supernatural crime scene with me?" he asked, already reaching for his keys.
you laughed, standing up and pulling him with you. "only you would think that's a romantic second kiss location."
"hey, i contain multitudes," he protested, but his grin was infectious as he led you toward his jeep.
and just like that, life in beacon hills continued – only now with the added bonus of being able to kiss your adorably sarcastic boyfriend whenever he started rambling about werewolves.
Ok I'm finally working on some Stiles fluff. I'm hoping to get it done tonight, don't expect anything great or long or whatever. I'm sorry but I feel like such a carcass. Who knew existing would be so exhausting?
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 :))
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! 💜
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.”