Wait Isnt Kinky Part Of It? I Thought That Was Like The Undertone Vibe Or Something?

You survived another week in a very tough world, even though at times it felt like you wouldn’t, and I’m so proud of you.

A Little Bit of Normal

Paring: Stiles Stilinski x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2 K

Summary: In the midst of Beacon Hills' chaos, you find solace in Stiles Stilinski's playful distractions and heartfelt words, gradually realizing that your friendship is evolving into something deeper. As he confesses his feelings for you, you both share a tender moment that marks the beginning of something real and meaningful.

It was another quiet afternoon at the library. The hum of pages turning and the faint chatter of a few students were the only sounds filling the room. You sat at your usual spot by the window, attempting to study for your next exam, but your mind kept wandering. The books in front of you blurred into a mess of letters and formulas.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about your grades—it was just hard to concentrate with everything going on in Beacon Hills. Between supernatural chaos, werewolves, and endless mysteries, school was the last thing on your mind. But you couldn’t just ignore it, not when your GPA was on the line.

“Hey,” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You glanced up to find Stiles Stilinski standing at the table, his trademark goofy grin plastered across his face.

“Hey, Stiles,” you said, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. He had that effect on you, always able to make even the most stressful days feel lighter.

“Shouldn’t you be studying?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the table.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m trying. It’s just... hard to focus, you know?”

Stiles gave you a sympathetic look, his expression softening. “Yeah, I get it. Believe me, I do. But I have a solution.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? Do you now?”

He flashed his signature mischievous grin. “Of course. It’s simple, really. All you need is a little Stiles distraction.”

You laughed. “A distraction? I’m supposed to focus on my studies, not get sidetracked by your endless supply of weirdness.”

Stiles smirked, sliding into the chair across from you. “First of all, you’re welcome. Second of all, weirdness is an understatement. And third, who says you can’t do both? You study, I distract. We’ll call it a study session.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m adorable,” he corrected, leaning forward with a playful gleam in his eyes. “And I’m about to prove it.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he launched into one of his usual rambling monologues, jumping from one bizarre idea to another. He told you all about a “brilliant” theory he had about why every fast food chain’s fries tasted exactly the same and how he was convinced there was a conspiracy behind it. His enthusiasm was contagious, and before long, you found yourself laughing at his absurd theories and forgetting about the stress of school.

When he saw you laughing, Stiles seemed to glow with a certain pride, as if he had just accomplished the greatest feat. His smile softened as his eyes met yours, and for a moment, you felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you in that little corner of the library.

“So, I have to ask,” Stiles said, his voice suddenly quieter, more serious. “Why do you always look so stressed, (Y/N)? I mean, I know Beacon Hills is... a lot, but you seem like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders sometimes.”

You hesitated. The weight of his question hit you harder than you expected. You’d gotten used to the chaos, to the constant danger, but there was always that undercurrent of worry that never seemed to leave you. You pushed it away as best as you could, but it wasn’t always easy.

“I guess... I don’t really know how to stop worrying,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s just so much going on. I have to keep everything together, and sometimes, it feels like I’m barely holding it all in.”

Stiles’ expression softened even more. He leaned in closer, his voice low and gentle. “You don’t have to hold it all in. Not with me. You know that, right?”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes. Stiles was always the jokester, the one who made everyone laugh and took everything in stride, but in this moment, he was serious—genuine.

“I know,” you said quietly. “It’s just... I don’t want to burden anyone with my problems. Especially you.”

He reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His fingers lingered for a moment, the touch warm and reassuring.

“You’re not a burden, (Y/N),” he said softly, his voice thick with sincerity. “And if you ever feel like you are, I’ll be the first one to remind you that you’re not. We’re friends, right?”

You nodded, your throat suddenly tight. You felt something stir in your chest, a warmth spreading through you as Stiles’ gaze never wavered.

“More than friends, though,” you murmured, not even realizing you’d said the words until they were out in the open. You felt your cheeks flush, but when you looked up at him, you saw the surprise in his eyes.

“You mean...?” he trailed off, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves. “Yeah. More than friends.”

There was a long beat of silence between you, a breathless pause where everything seemed to hang in the balance. You watched as Stiles’ expression shifted, the playful grin replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. He reached out and gently took your hand in his, his thumb grazing over your skin in a way that sent a flutter of nerves through you.

“I’ve been wanting to say something for a while now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t want to mess things up. But... I really like you, (Y/N). More than I should, probably. And I’ve been kind of terrified to tell you that, because... well, it’s you. You’re amazing. And I’m just... well, me.”

You felt your heart race as his words sank in, your chest tightening with emotion. You had no idea that Stiles felt the same way, and hearing it out loud made everything seem more real, more intense.

“You’re not just you,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “You’re Stiles. And that’s more than enough.”

He smiled then, the same goofy grin that you loved, but this time it was softer, more genuine. Slowly, almost like he was afraid you’d disappear if he moved too fast, he leaned in and kissed you. It was brief, but the moment his lips touched yours, a wave of relief washed over you. Like everything was falling into place, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

When he pulled back, his hand still holding yours, his eyes were full of that familiar mischief, but there was something deeper there, too—something raw.

“See?” he said, teasing once more. “Told you I was the best distraction.”

You laughed, your heart still racing. “I think you might be right about that.”

Stiles grinned, leaning back in his chair, but this time, he didn’t let go of your hand. It felt different now, more intimate, and you both knew that this was the beginning of something more than just a friendship.

In the middle of all the chaos, all the supernatural madness, you had found something simple, something real. And for once, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

I NEED to have this man in my arms immediately. Especially in your Recoil oneshot? HELLO? YES PLEASE. ARE YOU SHITTING ME?

Sorry lol I just needed to rant about baby Stiles. Love ya!

HAHA I love this so much and I completely agree! He's the perfect cuddle bug and I'm sure he feels the same way about us readers. In fact, his need might even be more intense... I can already see his demanding pout.

Thank you! Sending lots of love your way 💜

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 💜

To His Left

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 so incredibly exhausted from just existing, but apparently, that's just how life is. A sad reality, I must say.

However, a few beautiful souls have brightened some of my days, and for that, I am eternally grateful. So, here's an appreciation post. You guys (I'm sure I'm missing a couple, so sorry) deserve all the love and good things this world has to offer. Thank you for being you. Good luck with everything on your end! I'm always cheering you on.

💜 - @darkintothedawn @chxrrysandwine @sibyllinebooks @obriengf

And to whoever else sees this, go show them some love!

( @julianasversee You as well, my dear!)

AHH! You are always welcome, beautiful! 💜

you ever see a fun interaction between two people who are mutuals and think damn i wish i could be their third

I'm passing away

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 :))

AH! He's so cute, I love your take on this! And I must say, it sounds pretty accurate! I'm glad you're feeling better, my dear 💜

Hi, gorgeous! How do you think Stiles would execute breakfast in bed? Beautiful disaster maybe? Or would he be super careful and tame his clumsiness?

(I hope you're feeling much better! 💜)

omg hi lovely !! i am feeling a bit better now <33 and this is SUCH a cute prompt, thank you for asking and giving me this :))

as stiles is our resident adhd disaster i think he tries really hard. but alas, i don’t think he is as successful as he hopes.

as his mother died when he was young, he wasn’t really taught to cook and since noah works most of the time, i think it’s a lot of junk food nights and simple meals. ramen, mac and cheese, anything easy to do. and while i do think some aspects of breakfast are easy for him to cook, the elaborate breakfast in bed idea is a bit too advanced for our dear boy.

maybe it’s valentine’s day, your birthday, or a random day where he wants you to feel special and he gets the idea in his mind. so he tries his absolute hardest.

he gathers all the ingredients and lays them out and he has a system, he swears he does but you’d never be able to decode it. at first, it’s going well. the eggs are fine and the bacon is sizzling in the pan, but things start to decline when he forgets the toaster oven. he’s humming to himself as he pushes the bacon around in the pan, dancing a little in the cute little apron he’s wearing ( i told you, he’s committed to the bit ). and his mind wanders a little to you and how happy you’ll be and suddenly the smell of burnt bread fills his nostrils and he freaks. it throws him off his game.

so in his attempt to clean up the burnt toast and rid the kitchen of the smoke and the acrid smell, the bacon in turn gets forgotten about. it fries to a crisp and is unable to be salvaged. by now, the eggs are cold.

it disheartens the poor boy. so he probably just brings you takeout breakfast instead ( which is still just as sweet because he took time out of his day to bring you food. )

in summary, i think he would try so hard to make it perfect which it what ultimately messes him up. and he learns it’s much more fun when you cook breakfast together, being goofy and where he isn’t as in his head about it being the “perfect” breakfast in bed. besides, once you’re done cooking you can always take the tray of breakfast foods back to bed and cuddle while you eat.