Updated this so that ONLY the things that I’ve already posted or are currently posting are on here! Feel free to drop in my ask box to ask questions about what I’m working on. Might help me focus my attention more!!
You’re a junior in high school, and you’ve loved the game of lacrosse all of your life. Unfortunately, your school was majorly sexist and you never got to play. So, when your father announces that he got a new job in a different town that has an amazing lacrosse team you think that this is your chance. You were finally gonna get to play. But to show everyone that you can be just as good as the boys, if not better, you don’t let anyone know that you’re female. What happens when this decision leads to the most wonderful and hardest moments of your life thus far?
Cinnamon Roll (Mieczysław “Stiles” Stilinski x Reader)
The Vampire Diaries:
Series
All I Wanted (Kai Parker x Reader, Jeremy Gilbert x Reader)
Growing up in Mystic Falls means you’ve seen some things. Grant it, your so-called “friends” compel you to forget all these things. But, you have your ways of remembering for yourself. So when a mysterious stranger shows up and takes an interest in you, of course, they warn you against it. All you wanted is someone to tell you the truth because you knew you could handle it. He may be dangerous, but at least he’s honest with you about his intentions. Unlike, your best friend Jeremy. What does a relationship with a psychopath entail? Will he ever have actual feelings for you? Or will he leave someone else picking up all the broken pieces?
Unrequited (Marley Rose x Reader, Ryder Lynn x Reader, Sebastian Smythe x Reader)
You were a quiet transfer at McKinley during your freshman year. Now it’s your sophomore year, and you want to be more involved. So, you join Glee Club with your brother and meet the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. Sadly, she appears to be straight. While dealing with the unrequited feelings you have for her, you meet two other incredible and vastly different boys. You’re in for a year of a melting pot of all different kinds of emotions you’ve never had to deal with. Surely, you can handle a love triangle. Right? What about a love knot with 5 other people thrown in there?
Warning: Anxiety, swearing, teasing, sad stuff, mention of mental illness, and depression.
Pairing: Stiles x Reader, Lydia x Reader
Notes/Tags:@sassysweetstories Thanks for keeping me sane and helping with some parts in this. Couldn’t do this without you, Gem! I’m actually really proud of myself for writing a part this long and posting it in less than two months, so I hope you guys enjoy!
An obnoxious military-grade alarm blaring wakes me from the half-awake state I’d been in all night. I trudge around my room getting my gear together for my early, early practice with Y/L/N. While I’m getting dressed, my mind wanders to things that I wish they wouldn’t. Like what kind of mental health problems Y/N is dealing with, and why she felt the need to hide that from all of us. We’re her friends, she should trust us and know that we won’t abandon her for it. Then again, who knows if Scotty knew before tonight. Also, it’s unlikely that she and Lydia would be so close without Lyds knowing that secret. Maybe I’m the only one she didn’t tell. Maybe she doesn’t consider me as good a friend as Scott and Lydia? My mind begins to swim with all my insecure conspiracy theories. Then, one thought hits me that lays a weight on my chest that I can’t shake off. If she doesn’t consider me at the same level of friendship as Scott and Lydia, then there would be no chance that she loves me in any way. My heart constricts at the thought that she doesn’t even love me as a friend. I would be able to handle her not reciprocating my romantic feelings, but to not be loved at all in any way, shape, or form by a girl that amazing? I just don’t understand how anyone would be able to live without any kind of love from someone like her. I mean, I hear her tell Scott and Lydia about how she loves them all the time. But, me? Only once has she ever said it, and I don’t even know if she knows she said it or not.
I brush the thoughts out of my mind the best that I can and get in my Jeep to head to practice. When I get to the school, the parking lot is even emptier than it usually is for our early morning practices. That’s just because I’m here about 45 minutes before it’s supposed to start to train with Y/L/N. He’s a weird kid, and I never see him around school. But, he’s got natural lacrosse talent and even though I know natural talent can’t be taught, I’m hoping something will rub off on me. Everyone on the team is good at something. Being goalie, blocker, shooting, etc. I can’t even run laps without coming in dead last. I make my way to the locker room when I spot a car at the far end of the parking lot. Come to think of it, this car is always here this early. From here, it looks like Y/N’s car. I quickly walk over and peer through the windows seeing if it’s true. But, seeing no necklace around the mirror, I decide that they must just look really similar. Maybe it’s the newbie’s car since he’s the only one ever here this early with me. Shrugging, I calmly walk back over to the doors that lead to the locker room hallway. After pushing open the locker room door, I go to my locker and stand next to my locker as always. He’s already there, digging in his locker. Even though last night was upsetting, I’m trying to be nicer to this guy since he hasn’t even done much to deserve my hatred. Besides fighting with Lydia but she said it was fine, so I’ll drop it. “G'morning,” I say simply as I turn my locker combination and start getting my gear together. After glancing over, I realize that he looks like he hadn’t slept a wink last night. “Damn, you look like hell,” I joked, hoping to lighten his mood. He’s actually very intense when he’s mad and I don’t want to push that usually. After a second, he still doesn’t respond, he’s just looking at me. I swear if he’s not gay he’s at least bi. Why does he stare so much? I snap my fingers in front of his face and he responds, so I repeat what I said, slowly. I was just joking, but he took it the wrong way and that lead to a tense morning.
Before leaving the locker room, Scotty and I talked. He lied about why he was there early and I found out Y/N was still sleeping at his house. I hope she’ll show up to school so I get the chance to talk to her for real. Y/L/N and I worked things out for the time being and actually had a fun time before practice. In the first class of the day that I’m supposed to have with Y/N, she showed up. Grant it, Scott sat down next to her before I could, forcing Lydia and me to sit next to each other. But, at least she was at school and now I had a chance. Or so I thought. She was avoiding me. And Scott was helping her. Every class we had, Scott would sit next to her. Every class that Scott wasn’t in with us, she sat next to one of the loner kids, just to avoid sitting next to me. I spent the whole day whispering to Scott in class trying to get him to stop body-guarding her. But, every time, he would just shake his head no and then go on with the class. It was awkward having to sit next to Lyds in those classes. We used to have really strong feelings for each other and I just don’t know how we drifted away from that aspect of our relationship. Maybe it was the constant death-defying situations we were always in. The immense stress that we were under. I think both of us just knew we didn’t have the time or energy to explore that with all that goes on. So, we gave it up. And even when things calmed down, we just never picked it back up.
She looks like a mess today. Simple clothes, minimal makeup, messy bun? Lyds is having a hard day. I try to make small talk with her to cheer her up, but she’s not really in the mood for that. She won’t tell me what’s going on either. Lips sealed like a vault. Which is strange. She’s always outspoken and has never let people see her down. I let the subject go, knowing that if she wanted to spill, she would. I was hoping that Y/N would at least sit at our table for lunch, but she wasn’t anywhere to be seen when all the students piled into the cafeteria. She sure is doing an excellent job of avoiding me. I figure she’s also avoiding Lydia because of their fight last night. Otherwise, wouldn’t she just sit next to Lydia in class? Why have Scott sit there to block both of us from her? Anyway, I beg Scott to text her to at least make sure she’s okay. She texts back saying she is. I’m hoping that she ate breakfast or has lunch packed or something. I’ve seen her on days when her mind is as busy as the rest of her. She’ll forget to eat. She could go days with minimal food if she’s so busy. Literally, less than one snack a day and she could go like that for a week. It’ll keep her alive sure, but it’s not healthy. As I’m thinking about this, it dawns on me. Eating too much or not enough can be a sign of depression. How could I not see it? Signs have literally been in front of me the whole time. I feel so stupid. I could’ve been helping her if I had just realized. My heart wrenches with the notion that I have failed her as a friend. As someone who claims to love her but not know when she’s not okay.
The whole day has been hard. Having her ignore me each class and literally skipping lunch to not see me is crushing my heart. It feels as though someone keeps stacking marble slabs on my chest, hoping the weight will suffocate me. Each hour that passes without being able to talk to her is another marble slab on my already flattened heart. I’ve been trying to listen to what Scott said about giving her space, but when does giving her space become abandoning her? Where is the line that it stops being good for her and starts making it worse? Finally, it’s time for another class that Scott’s not in. It’s the second to last class of the day and it’s me, her and Lyds in this one and Econ last hour with just us. Maybe she’ll sit at least near me this time. Near enough to say hi. Yeah, I’ll start out with that so she doesn’t get overwhelmed. When I arrive at the classroom, seats are filling up quickly. Y/N isn’t here yet but there’s still time. Lydia’s already at her table with her notebook out and ready to go. I take the table behind her, thankful that this won’t be another awkward hour of sitting next to her. After sitting down, I start unloading all of the things I’ll need for class. Unlike Lydia, I don’t have one notebook. I have a ton of stray papers of notes and pencils and highlighters. All for this one class. Once all my mess is sprawled out, I stick a pencil behind my ear and start rummaging through the mess to find where we left off yesterday. Glancing up, I see that everyone has made it to class, except for Y/N. Maybe she’s gonna skip this one? I wouldn’t blame her. But, just as I’m about to lose hope of talking to her, she walks into view and freezes at the entrance of the room.
I try not to make it obvious that I’m watching her, but I see her when I take small glances up. Her eyes are wide as she looks around and purses her lips, seeing that there are only two seats open. Then, surprising me, she turns around to leave class! She would’ve made it out too, if the teacher hadn’t walked in at that moment, bumping into her. After an awkward glare, she makes her way back to our tables. I can’t decide if looking at her will make her uncomfortable so I focus back on my work. She stands at the edges of the two tables and exchanges looks with Lyds. God, they both look miserable. My curiosity of what actually happened between the two that could be so bad grows. Then, miraculously, she makes eye contact with me as I take another glance up at her. I’m so relieved that she’ll even look at me, that I can’t help but smile at her. She doesn’t smile back but just gawks at me. I don’t know why but she seems surprised about something. Maybe because I’m happy to see her? She should never be surprised about that. I’m always glad to see her, even if she’s mad at me. Nervously, I scratch my nose and fidget with my pencil, waiting to see where she’ll sit. The teacher clears their throat, startling her. Class is starting and she has to pick. I would think it’d be easy to pick between your best friend and a guy you have been avoiding all day. But, the decision seems more complicated than that for her. She seems to have resolved something in her head and shrugs off her bag, sitting next to me. I hurriedly try to straighten my papers to my side of the table so she has room for her things.
She nods at me as she smiles sheepishly and she has never seemed more beautiful to me. I love the way she looks when she’s shy. There’s something innocent about her. Untouched by the darkness of this town. Then again, she’s been touched by darkness of her own and I know she’s not innocent and helpless. I realize my mouth is hanging open slightly and try to cover it up by smiling again. Man, thankfully she sat next to me or I don’t know what I would’ve done. As we’re looking at each other, Lydia shifts in front of us and Y/N takes notice. A shadow passes over her face, almost like she’s guilty. But she covers it up by getting ready for the lesson. I wait patiently for her to get settled in next to me so that I can try and talk to her. Shifting in my seat I lean in closer, about to take my chance. But then I lean back and start over. I do this about three times before clearing my throat softly to get her attention. She makes me so nervous that I revert back to the way I was freshman year around Lydia. As she slightly turns her head to look at me, her tongue slips out to wet her bottom lip and pulls it gently between her teeth. I can’t help but watch the actions of her beautiful lips because I’ve been dreaming about those lips for a while. Now isn’t the time to be having thoughts about what I’d like to do to her lips and the rest of her, though. First, I have to get her to talk to me. I half smile as my eyes return to hers and deliver my smoothest pickup line, “Uh, hi.” I lean closer so I can hear her if she whispers back. She tucks some hair back into her braid and smiles back at me as she responds to my line, “Hi.” We stare at each other for what feels like the longest time. Just drinking in the other’s presence. I’m so content just looking at her and I feel like she feels the same. Which is a good sign. The teacher finally starts class and we have to focus on work, but we catch each other looking throughout class. Towards the end, she passes me a note asking to talk at her locker after class and I eagerly agree. She sets the final note atop my pile of papers just as the bell rings and struts out before I have time to read it and reply. She’s playing a flirtatious game with me right now, but I can tell you she won’t win.
I read the note and then quickly and excitedly gather up my things. Just as I’m about to run out and catch up with her, Scott comes up and blocks me in the doorway. I look past him into the hall trying to find her but she’s quick. “Hey, I can’t talk now I gotta go meet Y/N,” I explain as I try to get past him. He claps me on the back as he continues to stand in my way, “Dude, that’s awesome! What happened?” I roll my eyes and tap my foot irritatedly. “Long story, but right now I just gotta get to her locker so we can talk. Scotty, she finally wants to talk! I gave her space like you said and you were right. She’s talking to me,” I chatter excitedly. He brings me in for a quick congratulatory hug, “That’s great dude. So listen, can we talk about something?” He asks weirdly. I groan and throw back my head because he’s wasting my time. Then, I narrow my eyes as I look at him, “No, not right now dude. I gotta go, now might be my only chance. If I miss this she’ll get upset and then not talk to me so sorry bro, but you gotta get out of my way.” His eyes widen as I slip past him and I’m about to start walking toward her locker. But, he grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me into a closet. “DUDE, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? I HAVE TO GO NOW,” I say angrily. I flip the light on and pull out my phone, clicking her contact. I text her telling her that Scott his holding me up and press send just as he smacks the phone out of my hand. I’m seething now. “Scott, I don’t give a fuck if you’re an alpha werewolf. I will beat the shit out of you if you don’t tell me why you’re being so goddamn weird and stalling me from seeing Y/N,” I deliver my threat calmly. He can hear my heartbeat. He knows I’m not lying.
He hangs his head dejectedly. Caught in his attempt to stall me for some unknown reason. He sighs as I pick up my phone. I continue to glare at him while he thinks of how he’s gonna explain this one. “Lydia texted me and asked if I could make sure she could talk to Y/N alone after class,” he explains shamefully. I step back and stare at him perplexed. “Why would you still agree after you knew that I was going to talk to her?” I begin my interrogation. He shifts uncomfortably and I realize we’re still in the closet. “Because she needed to talk to her more,” he finally confesses. He won’t look at me so I can’t tell what that means. “Scott, what do you know that I don’t? Do you know what’s going on between those two? Why they were fighting last night?” I ask concerned. He continues to not meet my gaze as he answers, “I can’t tell you.” I put my hands on my hips and stare at him more intensely. “Since when do you keep so many secrets from me? We’re supposed to be best friends,” I say accusingly. I mean, he’s lied to me so many times in the past week, and it’s all about Y/N. He grimaces like I hurt him with that sentence. He meets my look and this time it’s him who looks mad. “Not telling you other people’s secrets does not mean we aren’t best friends. They’re not my secrets to tell, Stiles!” He says it with resolve and I begin to argue before he continues, “Would you want me going around telling people your secrets and problems just because they asked? Would you want me to tell Y/N all the shit that’s happened to you before you had the chance to tell her yourself?” He finishes his sentence with a tone that’s disbelieving. Now it’s my turn to grimace as though I’ve been hurt. He’s right. It’s not my place to ask that of him. He’s just trying to be a good friend to all of us.
I slump my shoulders and look at the ground, ashamed. “No,” I swallow to get rid of the lump in my throat, “no, I really wouldn’t want you to do that. I’ve done some pretty awful things. Things that would probably make Y/N run for the hills.” I kick my foot at the floor absentmindedly as I put my hands in my pockets. Only when I feel Scott’s hand on my shoulder do I look up at him. He’s about to say something when we hear the warning bell ring through the closet door. Scott pats me on the back and ushers me back into the hallway as we walk toward my class. That route just so happens to go past Y/N’s locker. Maybe she’s still there. We walk in silence for a few seconds before he picks up where he left off. “Stiles, I don’t think you’re giving her enough credit,” I open my mouth to interject, but he cuts me off, “Listen to me. She’s seen her fair share of bad things. Hell, probably done her fair share. No one’s perfect. But, even if she hasn’t, she’s not gonna turn her back on you because of the demons of your past. She’s not that kind of person and you know it.” I smile because I realize that Scotty’s right. How the hell did becoming an alpha make him so damn wise? We’re almost to the point where he splits off to go to his class when he stops, thinking about something. I stop as well, turning to him. He looks at me with an obnoxious all-knowing smile. I narrow my eyes, suspicious of what he just thought about. But, I don’t have to be suspicious for long because he tells me what he’s thinking. “I meant what I said about her Stiles. You’re always right about people. You have this gut instinct about people that even I don’t have. So, I think deep down you know that Y/N is so much more than you give her credit when you’re panicking about this stuff.” He states, turning to leave for his class. I’m standing there thinking about what he said when he calls something else over his shoulder, “I mean, you wouldn’t have fallen in love with her if you didn’t know she could handle your truth.” I scoff as he walks away because I know he’s got that shit-eating grin on his face even though his back is to me.
I turn to make my way towards Econ, past her locker. But, she isn’t there. A little further down the hallway, I hear voices talking. Which is strange with everyone else already being in class before the tardy bell. The closer I get, the more one of the voices sounds like Lydia. I stop at the corner and sneak a glance, trying not to be spotted. Much to my confusion, I see Lydia and Y/N talking. Their voices are quieter now that I’m closer, and Y/N is digging in her bag while Lydia is speaking. She takes a ball of some sort of clothing from her and then leans close to Y/N’s ear to whisper something. When she’s done, she leans back and I swear, it looks like they’re about to kiss. Which, is both concerning and turning me on at the same time. I strain to hear what they’re saying and I catch something about “things being sorted out after the game.” What the hell does that even mean? I’m still spying when Y/N suddenly hugs Lyds really tight. And Lyds hugs back just as tight. I don’t know what I’m witnessing but it feels too personal to keep spying. Before I can stop watching though, I notice Lydia is whispering in her ear again. Her body language is different as Lyds says something far under my capacity to hear it. But, after kissing Y/N on the cheek, she heads off to class. Y/N is left standing there, staring as Lydia goes to class. Damn, what the hell did she just say to her? She’s watching her go the way that I’ve watched both of them go. Like I love them. Shit. Is Y/N into girls? Just girls? Is that why she’s being weird? I bet that’s her secret!
“Oh, shit!” I’m snapped out of my running thoughts when I hear Y/N curse to herself. Just as I come around the corner she takes off at a brisk jog towards class. “Y/N! Wait!” I try to call after her, but she doesn’t hear me because of her headphones. I stand still in the spot where she and Lydia had their moment. And I’m trying to figure out what I’m missing here. Y/N can’t be only into girls, can she? I mean, I’m bad at flirting most of the time, but I get that vibe from her. Or maybe I made it up in my head? As I’m standing there thinking, I have the same realization that Y/N did. I’m gonna be late for class. I take off in a sprint through the last hallway to class and hear the tardy bell ring just as the door is in my line of sight. I slide awkwardly to a stop when I see Coach perched on his desk staring at the doorway like he expects this. I open my mouth to give an explanation as to why I was two seconds late, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He used Greenberg as an example of someone who was on time and turned around and said he’d prefer me over him. I laugh internally because Coach would prefer Satan himself over Greenberg. I hurry to sit down in the seat next to Y/N. As soon as my ass is in the chair, I lean over to start apologizing. When she looks up from her notes I stop talking. She beams at me and I can’t help but sigh at how gorgeous her smile is. The rest of that conversation was surprising as hell. Not only was she not mad at me, she asked if she could come over for hot chocolate. I was stunned because she hasn’t really been around my house since my dad walked in on our moment. Also, she seemed more confident today. I swear she’s flirting and insinuating things. But I also can tell she’s totally into Lydia so I’m confused as to why she would be hinting at things she should not be hinting about. I had to shift the way I was sitting because thinking about the things she was teasing, and honestly thinking about her and Lydia got me a little bit too worked up. And I was late to early practice with Y/L/N because of it.
That led to an awkward conversation with him about teenagers and unexpected boners. It was not a conversation I wanted to be having with someone I barely knew, and thank god he seemed to not want to talk about it either. And I almost confessed to him that I was in love with Y/N. I saved myself from that embarrassment. No one except Scotty needs to know until she does. Otherwise, it seems kind of creepy. Like I’m going around talking to people about it and that’s just uber stalkerish. The practice was almost the same as always except I actually scored some goals on him and asked him some questions I’d been thinking about for a while. He answered the first one with something that actually made sense. Although, it could still be a lie because I don’t see him at the end of the day either. But, when I asked him his first name he got weird. Like hiding something weird. Started asking about mine as a deflection. Actual practice was better because there was less time for suspicions and I scored more goals on him. He seemed distracted after I asked him all that stuff. I took that as a sign that I was getting warmer in the investigation of the mystery that is my lacrosse trainer. Since there was no extra practice with him, I rushed to the locker room to grab my things so I could go home and get ready for Y/N coming over. As I was walking to my Jeep though, I notice Scott hanging around that car from this morning before school.
Curious as ever, I walk nonchalantly over to him. He seems lost in his own little world until he notices me approach him. Then he seems surprised and frantic. “Hey! Stiles! What-” he nervously looks around while trying to not seem suspicious, “What’s up man?” I just cross my arms over my bag-straps and stare at him, unamused. “Why are you acting jumpy?” I deadpan. He forcefully relaxes to off-put my suspicion, “I’m not. Just waiting for Y/N to take me home.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and grins at me. I narrow my eyes as I do a once over of him and his behavior. “So this is her car?” I question him. He nods in response. “If it is, then where’s the necklace I bought her? It’s not around the mirror,” I state my observation coolly. He smiles sort of confusedly at me, “She’s wearing it? Duh.” He chuckles after he says that. My eyes widen a little bit, my suspicion forgotten. “She is? She never wears it. What changed?” I step closer to Scott as I pelt him with questions. He leans against the car, careful not to dent or scratch it, but still amused by my spastic reaction. “She was dropping me off this morning and-” he begins to answer my questions but I interrupt him with a new one, “This morning you said she was asleep at your house. Why did I see her car here when I pulled up?” He closes one eye as he thinks about that, “I assumed she went back home to get some sleep, she might not have.” He looks away from me before continuing. “Anyway, she was dropping me off and decided to wear it today. Said it calmed her and made her feel better. We came to the conclusion that it was her anchor.” Once he finishes speaking I snap my head up at the word anchor. “Wait, she’s not-” I begin before Scott shakes his head and laughs. “Nah dude, it anchors her when she has panic attacks. Like you count your fingers, she recites the phases of the moon as she twists that thing. I don’t know where you even found something that customized but maybe I should get one.” He chuckles once more and I stick my hands in my pocket. Pleased that she likes my gift and it helps her more than I thought. “I…uh…I made it, actually. Well, I bought the moon part and fixed it up so it would eclipse for her. I know how she likes when the moon looks like a toenail.” I laugh thinking about her ranting about how the night sky is the most beautiful sight she’ll ever see. I clear my throat as I shake myself out of that fond memory. “Well, I better get home and shower. She’s coming over for hot chocolate and we’re gonna talk,” I cajoled. We clap hands and half hug before I leave to rush home and make sure everything is perfect.
At home.
“Yo! Daddio!” I call out once I step through the front door. He’s supposed to be home by now, though he doesn’t answer. I set my bag down in my room and rush to the bathroom to take a shower before Y/N comes over. The last thing I need right now is to stink when she gets here. My shower is quick, probably lasting about ten minutes. I pull my favorite pair of sweats on and walk around getting things ready while I rub my hair with a small towel. Once my hair is not dripping anymore but still damp, I head to the kitchen to get the hot chocolates ready to be made. When I step through the doorway, my dad is there setting down a couple bags of takeout food. I jump a little and clutch my chest, “Jeez! A little warning next time would be nice.” He looks up and chuckles at my surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t know I had to announce myself in my own home.” I shake my head as I continue into the kitchen, peeking into the bags he sat down on the table. “Well, you don’t. But, it’s like you’re trying to give me a heart attack. I called your name before I showered and you weren’t here.” He starts taking the food out of the bags and spreading it out on the table as he answers, “I could only hope you’d have a heart attack. Then maybe you’d know how it feels when you do it to me.” He jokes and slaps me on my shoulder. I make a face at him and bring two big mugs out of the pantry. “What’s with the takeout? It’s not takeout night,” I observe and he gets silverware out of the drawers. He sets the silverware on the table and turns to me. “I didn’t know we were only allowed to have it on one night. I thought you might want something nice before the big game tomorrow.” I smile and squeeze his shoulder. “What I meant to say was, ‘Thank you, dad. For the effort you made and food you bought.’” He nods his head approvingly, “There are the manners we’ve been talking about. You’re welcome.” I laugh and sit down picking out what I want to eat. I begin to stuff some of it in my mouth hungrily when he sits down next to me. “Hey, what’s with the good mugs from the pantry? You never get those out,” he questions me as he helps himself to some food also. I swallow my bite and open my eyes a little wider. “Oh, crap. Y/N asked if she could come over for hot chocolate and we were gonna talk for a while,” I explain, “I should’ve checked with you to see if it was okay, but I didn’t even think. I was just so excited she wants to talk to me at length.”
I drag my hand over my face and look over at him. He’s got this confused look on his face and to be honest, I don’t know what part of that would’ve confused him. He takes a bite of his food and then swallows before addressing what I’ve said. “Son,” he starts off seriously, “you never have to ask if Y/N can come over. I mean I got more than enough food if she wants to eat. Hell, I prefer it when she’s over here. Means you behave more.” I smile when his statement turns into his usual sarcasm. And people wonder why I am the way I am. “But,” he catches me in the middle of my thoughts, “I am confused about one thing.” I roll my eyes because I just knew that he was. “What’s that, daddio?” He shakes his head in return to my nickname for him, but responds nonetheless, “Since when are you two on the outs? I mean, why wouldn’t she want to talk to you at length?” I sigh and thunk my head down on the table next to my food. “Since last night,” I mumble into the table and I hear him chuckle beside me so I lift my head back up. “What’s so funny?” I grumble at him. He shakes his head as he responds, “Oh nothing. Except that you made it seem like it’s been weeks or months since she’s spoken to you and it’s been less than 24 hours.” I squint my eyes at him. “Dad, you don’t get it!” I sigh frustratedly. He looks toward the window at the sound of thunder before leaning closer to me, “Then explain it to me. You guys are best friends. What’s one day that she doesn’t talk to you?” I bite my lip as I think about where to start. As the rain begins to pour down outside, I tell him about all the events of last night and all the events of today. I even tell him about all the crazy theories that my mind has come up with. When I’m finished, I slouch back in my chair and wait for him to process it all.
“Well son,” he begins in his most fatherly tone, “it sounds like Y/N is dealing with a lot of personal stuff while trying to balance everything else. The amount that she’s experiencing is bound to put some strain on anyone.” I nod as I listen, really trying to absorb what he says because, in all honesty, my dad knows the most about this stuff. With my mom and me and everything that came with that. “Just give her time, Stiles. She has to juggle school, after school work, her home life, and her social relationships. Now you’ve just complicated that last one by asking her to wear your jersey. By the sound of what you saw in the hallway today, Lydia might be complicating it too. Two of her best friends are now showing an interest in her. If she has anxiety or anything like that, she probably feels a lot of pressure to make a decision. These might all be new feelings, they might not be. Either way, she needs time to sort things out.” He finishes his always helpful advice by squeezing my shoulder. “You’re right,” I reply, “I of all people should know not to pressure people with anxiety. I’m probably making it worse for her.” I shake my head and he speaks again. “Now, don’t go walking on eggshells around her either. She’s a strong and intelligent girl, and it’ll probably piss the hell out of her if she thinks she’s being coddled. You have to find a balance between being considerate but not babying her.” I laugh because I know he’s right. He always is. “Thanks, dad. I really needed this talk,” I say as I take another bite of food. He smiles at me as he responds, “You’re welcome, but you could thank me by not screwing it up with her, you punk. She brings me the best coffee.” We both laugh as he gets up from the table. “What are you doing?” I ask when he grabs the mugs and starts mixing stuff in them. He doesn’t look at me when he says, “I’m making Y/N’s favorite so you can finish getting ready, it’s almost time for her to get here right?” Before I can answer, I hear a faint knocking at the front door. I could only hear it because the thunder stopped for a split second. My dad and I look at each other, slightly puzzled. “She might be early, I’ll go get it,” I mumble as I get up from the table.
I stop in front of the door, mentally preparing myself to see her again. I grab the door handle and smile as I begin to invite her in. “You’re early, I didn’t expect you for another-” I stop mid-sentence when I look up and see her standing there. The smile is gone and my joy is replaced with worry. She’s soaked from head to toe, and a couple of bags sit at her feet. When my eyes find their way to her face my heart twists. Her face is contorted in pain and she’s holding back tears. When her eyes meet mine, whatever dam was holding back the pain broke. She breathes out a single shaky word as she collapses into my arms in the doorway, “Stiles.”
~Y/N’s POV~
I try to process what my parents just told me as I rush around my room shoving things into a few bags. My mind keeps swimming with their explanation of that bombshell and I try to push it out to keep from panicking. There are knocks on my door and their concerned voices are on the other side of it, “Honey, just come back out so we can talk about it.” Once finished with my hurried packing, I throw open the door and storm past them to the living room. I never had a chance to change or shower so I’m still gross from practice and in my clothes from school. They pace behind me with questions that I barely hear and can barely answer. “Where are you going with all your things, sweetie?” My entire body is warm with a mix of rage and disbelief and shock that they can act like they care about me. Like this doesn’t change everything about my life. “I told you. I’m going to Stiles’,” I deadpan, trying to keep my emotions from overwhelming me. I continue to gather up my school things and head for the front door. My father speaks this time, “I hardly think that it’s appropriate for you to go spend the night at a boy’s house on a school night.” I freeze in front of the doorway. My fists ball up and I have to try immensely to control my icy reply. I whirl around at them standing there next to each other. “First of all, I don’t think either of you has any right to tell me where it’s appropriate to sleep and when. And secondly, you had no problem with me spending the night at Lydia’s all the time.” They look at each other and my dad replies, “Well, that’s different beca-” I interrupt him, my voice breaking with emotion in the process. “It’s no different than if I slept at Stiles’ because I like them both!”
My mom tries to de-escalate the situation, “Well, of course, you like them both, they’re your best friends.” I soften at my mom’s response. So oblivious to what I mean. “No, momma. I like Lydia the way I like Stiles,” I say with my voice returning to a normal tone. They pause trying to put together what I’m saying. My dad slowly speaks first, “So you like Lydia-” Growing frustrated with this irrelevant conversation I interrupt him again, “I like Lydia enough to have sex with her!” I exclaim and they both widen their eyes. “Oh, and to top it off, I already slept at a boy’s house,” I say, my voice thick with defiance, “last night.” With that final statement, I take my bags and walk out the door. The rain is pouring down and I’m halfway soaked by the time I reach my car. Once I pull out of my driveway, the shock and anger begin to wear off and I’m left with all the sad feelings and thoughts. Tears fight their way out as I try desperately to keep it together. I can’t spiral right now. I’ll never stop. After reaching Stiles’ house, I gather my bags and head towards the front door. His dad is home. Hopefully, I’ll be able to stay the night.
Pieces of the conversation at my house flash through my mind during the walk up to the porch. I begin to walk slower, reliving the words that ruined my life.
Why are you separating?
Honey, this is hard to tell you. But, your mother and I have both been unfaithful.
What do you mean? You cheated on each other?!
Yes, it was before the move and we thought a new place would help us repair the marriage.
So we didn’t move so I could play lacrosse?
Well, that is part of the reason but we were going to move whether or not I had gotten this promotion.
Then why are you splitting now after we moved??
We both have a lot of stress on us right now with the adjustment and dealing with what we’ve done. We think being apart for a while will help sort things out.
Are you gonna get divorced or is this supposed to magically make you miss each other?
Y/N, it’s not like that.
What stresses are you talking about besides the cheating? You have a new job and it’s better.
Well, it’s a lot more demanding and it requires more hours in order to pay for things necessary for the family.
You mean my lacrosse fees and therapy bills.
No, don’t you ever think that it’s your fault.
I never said that I did. But, thanks for letting me know. I need to go.
My slow walk to the porch had soaked me through and through, and I was beginning to crumble. I stood in front of the door to the only person I want to see right now. Exhausted from my emotions, I set my bags down and knock on the door. I listen for a while but I can’t hear anyone coming, so I knock again. Longer this time. Eventually, I hear the doorknob move and suddenly I’m terrified. This is the most vulnerable I’ve ever been in front of Stiles. Once he opens this door, there is no going back. He will know every deep dark messed up thing about me. I stand there as he opens the door with his goofy smile, saying something about me being early. He’s wearing his favorite pair of sweatpants and no shirt. If I wasn’t such a mess, I might appreciate the sight of his toned and freckled chest flexing with his movements. His smile is instantly gone as he sees the state that I’m in, and I feel so relieved at the sight of him. I didn’t bring my dog and now I know that was a good choice because tonight I’ll have Stiles. Which is better than I could’ve hoped for. The burning sensation of tears comes back and I try to fight the sobs that will come. But, once my eyes meet his wonderfully warm ones, I lose it. I take a step and collapse into his arms as I unsteadily breathe out his name.
His arms are instantly around me and I breathe in the scent of him as the cries come out. They’re guttural sobs that choke me as I breathe. The hot tears are flowing down my cheeks and onto his bare chest. My knees buckle and I can’t hold myself up any longer, but Stiles does. He supports my weight with one arm firmly around my waist and his other hand gently strokes my hair. My fingertips press into his back as I try to grasp onto something I know is real. Him. He is real. And I’ve never been more grateful for someone to see me like this in my entire life. The heat radiates off his skin but does little to warm my rain chilled body. He doesn’t try to say anything or ask any questions. Instead, he holds me up in that doorway, kissing the top of my head in between gentle “shhh’s” until the cries die down and I’m left with a burning throat, trying to figure out how to breathe again. When I finally find a rhythm of breathing, I lift my head up and look at him. We don’t exchange words but we both know that this was an important moment. It’s still hard for me to hear over the pounding of my heart and the rushing of blood in my ears, but his dad appears with a blanket and takes me to the living room while Stiles takes my things to his room.
Mr. Stilinski hands me a nice mug with a warm creamy brown liquid. After taking a sip, I realize it’s my favorite hot cocoa. My insides begin to warm up as Stiles returns to the living room. He takes me to his bathroom where he’s run a hot bath for me and he leaves me to soak and drink my hot chocolate. The cocoa feels wonderful in my hoarse throat and I’m almost completely warm again. I put on a feminine robe that Stiles left hanging on the door for me. The house is quiet as I exit the bathroom, except for the rain that thuds on the roof. When I walk back downstairs and into the kitchen, they both look at me. I weakly smile and hand Noah the mug, thanking him for making it. Stiles pulls out a chair for me at the table and insists I eat the takeout that his dad had gotten. I did as he asked, knowing he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. My hair was almost done dripping by the end of the meal and I took a deep breath as I looked at Stiles, who was watching me carefully. When I look at him, I smile for real and that seemed to relieve him. They both sat at the table and listened as I told them what happened with my parents, minus the part about sleeping with Lydia. Stiles pulled his chair closer to mine so he could hold my hand with both of his, warmly tracing and rubbing the top of it. It was hard to get through with my sore throat and stuttering from new cries coming out, so I squeezed his hand every time it became difficult. But, they listened. And when I was done, the sheriff told me I was always welcome there when things were rough at home. I was so grateful to have both Stiles and his dad looking out for me. After thanking him for everything, Stiles gently led me upstairs and to his room where I lazily walked over to the bed and sat down.
My muscles were tired and sore from the physicality of my crying. It takes over my whole body and it hurts even more to fight it. He pulls his desk chair closer to the bed so that he’s facing me and takes my hands off my lap and holds them in his. I look around at all his posters and books and a strange board with string attached to it in the corner. “So, this is your room, huh?” I say timidly. In all of the few months of us being friends, I’ve never been up to his room. He raises his eyes from our hands to look around before they land on me. “Yeah. I guess you’ve never been up here,” he responds as his thumbs still stroke the back of my hands. I shake my head slowly as I gnaw on my bottom lip. His eyes flick to the motion briefly. “Can I look?” I whisper to him. His expression is as soft as ever when he says, “Of course.” I slowly get up and hold onto one of Stiles’ hands to bring him with me. He stands and readjusts our hands so that they’re intertwined. I breathe shakily but smile slightly to myself. We walk slowly around the room, hands still together. I use my other hand to lightly trace my fingers along is posters and other things. We come to a stop in front of the strange board in the corner and I pluck one of the strings. This causes him to laugh to himself. Curious, I ask, “What’s funny?” He squeezes my hand and answers, “It’s nothing. Just that Lydia plucks the strings too.” I smile at her name. “Hm. That’s quite a coincidence.” I laugh a little bit. He looks confused as I let go of his hand to sit back down on the bed. “What do you mean by that?” He asks as he takes his place in the desk chair again.
I lay back on the bed and pat the spot next to me. He cautiously sits down next to me and lays back too. I stare at the ceiling while I think. This is it. This is the perfect time to tell Stiles everything that’s been going on. I got sidetracked with the drama of my parents but I came here for a reason. He told me when he thought I was asleep that he would still love me after I told him everything. I hope he keeps that promise. “Hey,” he whispers catching my attention. I turn my head from the ceiling to look at him next to me. “Yeah?” I whisper back. “You know you can talk to me about anything right?” He tries to confirm sweetly. I can’t help but smile at that cliche statement. “I know,” I pause regaining my courage, “and I’m going to.” He shifts his head so that he can look at me better. I have to look back at the ceiling or I’ll back out. Clearing my throat, I finally tell him what’s been on my mind, “I heard you last night. In Scott’s room when you thought I was asleep. I thought I was too. That it was a dream. But, I felt your lips and somehow I knew I was awake.” I expect him to spaz out like he usually does and try to cover for it but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns his head to look at the ceiling with me. “Yeah, I guess I kind of knew you were.” I bolt into a sitting position and turn to look at him. “You what?” I ask nervously. He stays laying down but looks at me.
“It took me a couple hours of staring at my ceiling when I got home to realize that you were awake. I mean I was pretty sure you were awake because every other time I’ve kissed you while you’ve been asleep, you didn’t stir. You sleep like the dead,” he finishes his explanation with a laugh. I close my eyes and laugh at his statement. He’s right, I’m a heavy sleeper. I lay back down and turn my head to him. “So you’ve been kissing me in my sleep for weeks, huh?” He turns to meet my eyes, “Only on the forehead or the top of it. You just look so beautiful I can’t help it.” I clear my throat and turn my head away. “Well, that’s not creepy.” I laugh trying to cover up my blush. He laughs too. “Hey! It’s not as creepy as it sounds.” I turn back to him, relaxed. “Sure it’s not,” I say sarcastically as I pat his hand. He takes my hand before I can pull it away from him. “So did you only want to tell me that kissing you is creepy or was there something else?” He strokes the back of my hand with his thumb again and my breath catches as I look down at our hands. I return my gaze to him. “Well, no. It’s not,” I say quietly. He moves so that our shoulders are touching and our faces are closer. “You can keep going if you want,” he whispers softly to me. I nod and take a deep breath before telling him everything about my emotional and mental health. When it started, how bad it was and how it was better until we moved. I told him about my parents getting me my dog and how he’s trained to help. All the while Stiles just listens and watches me intently. When I’m done telling him all there is about that, I wait for him to ask something, or anything if he wants. “So, you were really out of it when you got here. Why did you leave your dog at home? Don’t you need him now?” He asks concerned. Little does he know that he calms me too. “I,” I begin before swallowing the lump in my throat, “I have you tonight.” I squeeze his hand and this time he’s the one to swallow a lump in his throat. Then, he starts closing the gap between our faces, and I’m letting him. He’s so close that our noses are brushing and I can smell the hot chocolate left on his breath. I suck in unintentionally to prepare myself and begin to lean closer too.
Just as I can almost feel his lips on mine, the room goes dark.
We break apart quickly and I fumble in the partial darkness for my phone. Only to realize that I’m wearing a robe and my phone is in one of my bags. I hear the sounds of shuffling and see the silhouette of Stiles in the light of the street lamps coming through the window while he looks for something. “Stiles!” I hear his dad call from downstairs. He turns around from his nightstand to the door. “Yeah?” He calls back. Mr. Stilinski replies immediately, “The storm cut the power! It looks like the whole block is out! Light some candles so you don’t hurt yourselves!” “Yeah, for sure!” He responds weirdly. Then his attention turns to me. “Y/N, I need the flashlight on your phone to find the candles. I don’t know where I set my phone,” he laughs off the situation. I can’t tell his expression in this lighting so I don’t know why his voice sounds off. I swallow as I answer, “Oh, uh, it’s in my bag. I’ll see if I can find it.” After very slowly finding my bag in the dark, I dig through it trying to feel my phone. Once it’s found I switch on the flashlight and hand it over to Stiles, who in no time finds the candles and lights a few in his room. Switching the flashlight off, I set it on the nightstand and stand awkwardly. Not exactly sure what I was waiting for. “So, um,” Stiles clears his throat trying to find an icebreaker. I nod and cross my arms to hug myself, very suddenly aware that I was naked under this robe. “I’m dry now. I’m gonna change into something else if that’s alright,” I say bluntly. His eyes widen and he puts one hand on his hip and waves the other about as he speaks, “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll just go out in the hall.” He scratches his neck as he leaves the room. Before he can close the door I call to him, “Stiles!” He pokes his head back in the door, “Yeah?” I breathe deeply trying not to be nervous. “Could you leave the door cracked? That way I know you can hear me if I need something?” He opens his mouth but only nods and disappears again. This time leaving the door cracked.
I find some underwear and a baggy T-shirt in my bag. After slipping off the robe and letting it fall to the ground I slide my underwear on. I have my back to the door, but I trust Stiles to not look without permission. In a moment of courage, I decided to give him some. “Stiles?” I ask my back still to the door. “Yeah?” He calls through the crack. I use my shirt to cover my chest and pick the robe off the floor. “Could you come in here a sec?” I ask quietly. I hear the door open and look over to see him standing surprised in the doorway. He moves to leave while apologizing, “Sorry, I thought-” I turn around fully this time. “No, Stiles it’s okay, you can look. I’m covered,” I assure him, “Promise.” He slowly turns around and relaxes a little now that he sees I’m covered. “I just, uh, wanted to know if maybe I could wear one of your sweatshirts. This shirt isn’t really comfortable to sleep in,” I lied. He smiles softly and goes to his closet silently. Why is he being weird? I thought this is what he wanted. Here I am basically naked in his bedroom and he’s not even making a move. “I’m guessing this robe is an ex-girlfriend’s or something?” I try to make conversation so he’ll look at me. He freezes with his hand on a sweatshirt. He turns his head towards me. “Actually, it was my mom’s,” he whispers. I immediately feel terrible for trying to seduce him for some reason. I quickly put my shirt on, not wanting to be foolish again. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive-” I try to apologize but he interrupts me, “It’s fine, Y/N. I was the one who left it for you. I thought you’d like it.” “I do like it,” I say unsure of what’s happening. He pulls the sweatshirt off of the hanger and walks over to me, holding it out. I take it from him. “Thanks,” I say as I turn around to change.
I notice that he doesn’t leave the room this time and I don’t think he even turned around. So, with a shaky breath, I pull the shirt over my head and begin to replace it with his. But, I feel the ghost of a touch on my back and my spine shivers. I pull the shirt the rest of the way on and turn around. He’s closer now. As close as we were on the bed. He hesitantly places his hands on my waist and when I don’t stop him, he grips me lightly. I slide my hands softly up his bare arms and to the back of his neck. But, instead of kissing me, he starts swaying. Confused I ask, “Stiles, what are you doing?” He rests his forehead on mine and smiles, “I’m dancing.” He says it so nonchalantly like this is normal behavior that I laugh. “But, there’s no music,” I say. One of his hands slides to the small of my back to pull me closer. He leans his head down so that he can whisper in my ear, “I don’t need music when I have you.” My heart stops for a millisecond as I begin to heat up. I don’t know what to do with him. Does he want me? Does he not? Where is this going? I decide to go with it. Whatever it is he wants this night to be. I want it too. “Okay, but what if you played those songs on your phone that I love?” I ask. He pulls back to look at me, hopefully sensing what mood I’m trying to set. He smirks and bites on the bait I laid. “Alright, I just gotta find my phone first.” I smile widely like a kid that just got granted ice cream and he kisses my forehead before looking around his room for it. It takes me a moment to come back from my mind-dizzying. He can’t seem to find it in his room anywhere. “Maybe you left it downstairs?” I suggest. “I’ll ask dad to call it. Be right back,” he assures me before heading downstairs. He’s about halfway down the stairs when I realize that I could just call it. So I grab my phone and hit the speed dial for Stiles. “Hey, Stiles! I’m gonna call it so your dad doesn’t have to,” I call down the hall to him. “Y/N, no! Don’t do that! Hang up the phone!” He calls back, sounding panicked. I hear something muffled coming from his bathroom so I figure it’s his phone. “No, it’s okay I can hear it in the bathroom Stiles!” I respond to his weirdness. The call stops ringing so I dial one more time to be sure it’s in there. I can hear Stiles’ heavy footsteps as he runs back up the stairs and down the hall. But, I’m already outside of the bathroom door and it doesn’t sound like a regular ringtone or music on his phone so I open it. The ringtone becomes clear just as Stiles reaches me saying, “Y/N, please hang up th-” He stops mid-sentence when he hears his ringtone too.
It’s me. Giggling uncontrollably, then letting out a sigh. “Oh, my gosh,” more giggling, “I love you, Mischief.” And it repeats.
Request: @morganschiebel : Maybe a fic where the reader’s best friend Kira wants to go on a date with Scott but is too awkward to go alone so she recruited you (the single reader) for a double date, Scott brings Stiles and throughout the date the reader is super flirty with Stiles and Stiles keeps on being the fluffy awkward cinnamon roll he is. ❤️❤️👍
Warning: Fluff!
Notes: SO, I’M REALLY SORRY THAT THIS TOOK LITERALLY A MILLION YEARS TO DO. I’M VERY AWARE THAT YOU REQUESTED IT ALMOST A YEAR AGO. I’M SO SORRY. I also apologize in advance if this wasn’t what you had in mind. I kind of just spun out from where it started and…yeah.
“Please, please, please, please, please, please?” Your best friend, Kira, pleaded with you for probably the third time that day.
You scoff and continue walking down the hall, clutching your books as you reply, “No, no, no, no, no, no.” She pouts at the same response you’ve given for, also, probably the third time that day. But it only makes you chuckle.
She rushes in front of you and turns around to block your path with her body. “But, you have to go on this double-date to keep me from floundering. You know how much I act stupid around Scott,” she explains once again.
You roll your eyes, but your features soften when you see that this is important to her. “Then, why can’t I just be a third-wheel if I’m only there to chaperone you?” You try to reason with her. Anything to keep you from having to actually talk to the boy that was supposed to be your half of the double-date. Mischief Stilinski. It was his nickname for a reason. You had been hopelessly crushing on him since you moved to Beacon Hills, shortly after Kira did. But, all he did was tease you and play little pranks on you that flustered you in every single way. Honestly, you didn’t know whether you had a crush on him or if you hated his guts.
She grins broadly, seeing that she’s finally wearing you down after begging for a week or so. “Because, y/n, that’s just sad and it would be weird,” she states and you open your mouth to protest. “Ah- no buts. Trust me, it’ll be more natural. Not at all like I’m having my friend spy on me to keep me from being a doofus,” she finishes her argument.
“Ugh. Why do I have to filter you at all? Scott is such a sweetheart. I’m sure he would love your quirkiness,” you plead with her.
She places her hands on your shoulders and gives them a reassuring squeeze. “Y/n,” she begins, “you only don’t want to do this for me because of who the other date is.” She’s right. You never in a million years thought you’d be going on a date with Stiles. You were nauseous at the thought of it. Not knowing if he’d be a jerk, or if he’d actually be a gentleman for once.
“Okay, fine! You’re right. Why would I want to go on a date with that jerk? All he’s ever been is mean to me,” you confess. Then, you feel two hands suddenly grab your sides from behind and you let out a squeal.
“Oh my gosh! You should’ve seen your face!” Of course. None other than Stiles could have interrupted at a worse time. You scowl at him, unhappy at the way he makes his presence known. “Aw, what? Not happy to see me?” He teases as usual.
Kira’s hands have let go of your shoulders in the commotion, so you cross your arms and step away from Stiles. “Actually, nope. Never am. But, I guess I’ll have to get over that for our date,” you deadpan, knowing that you can’t let down your best friend. She beams beside you and immediately darts off to tell Scott that you finally caved.
“Wait, what are you going on about?” He questions you, confused. You raise your eyebrows at him as if he should already know the plan for a double-date. “I don’t recall you asking me out. And I would certainly remember asking out someone as pretty as you,” he flirts with you.
A blush crawls up your neck and you scratch it uncomfortably. You clear your throat before explaining, “Scott and Kira want us to go on a double-date with them. Well, it’s more of their date. We’ll just be there to buffer out their awkwardness.” His eyes widen and you realize that Scott had not checked with him first.
“Excuse me, I have an Alpha to go kick the crap out of,” he says through gritted teeth. Then, he just storms off, leaving you in the hallway wondering if he really disliked you so much that hanging out with you for one night would be so awful.
But, really, it was the exact opposite. Stiles knew the instant that you sat down in his class that you would be the death of him. In a good way, though. As in, his heart raced every time you smiled, his temperature rose every time you licked your lips, and his stomach churned with butterflies every time you said his name.
But, he was hopelessly awkward and didn’t know how to convey his feelings properly. Yes, he really reverted back to the old “if he likes you he’ll pull your pigtails” saying. That’s what he did. He pushed your buttons because he loved to hear how frustrated you got with him and how the sound of his name changed in your mouth. He teased you mercilessly because he craved the way you looked when you were embarrassed and red, which was really innocent and cute.
He had no idea you liked him back or he would go about this completely different. He used these tactics to keep you at a distance, but also still be able to be around you without being a complete idiot.
So, he marched right up to Scott, who was talking to Kira about date plans and smacked him on the back of the head for what he’d done. “Oww! What the hell was that for Stiles??” The Alpha questioned his best friend while rubbing the newly sore spot in his hair.
“Oh! You know damn well what that was for you dumbass,” Stiles scolded him. “How could you go behind my back and set up a double-date with her?? She like, hates me, I’ve made sure of that. And now you’re gonna torture me by making me go on a date with her?” He accused his best friend.
Kira, standing silently until that moment, interjects, “Wait, y/n doesn’t hate you.” She laughed as she looked from Scott to Stiles. Both boys’ heads turn slowly towards her. “You think she hates you because you tease her? You infuriate her with your teasing because she likes you. If she hated you, you’d really have no effect on her,” she states disbelievingly.
This information made Stiles’ head spin. What was he supposed to do now? Back out on the date and risk you not liking him anymore? Going on the date and tease you like usual? Or go on the date and make a complete fool out of himself? It should be simple now, right? You like him, he likes you. What else matters? Well, he’s been a jerk for the better part of a year so he’s afraid it’s too late, no matter what Kira had said. But, he decided to risk it. “Fuck it. What’s the date then?”
“We were thinking of going to the carnival that’s in town this weekend,” Scott’s says. Stiles nods as he formulates a plan. Yes. That could work. A carnival is a perfect place for fun and also unlikely romance. He’d win you prizes and you’d hold hands on rides when you get scared. It was perfect. His mind was set. You were all going to the carnival, and he was going to woo the crap out of you until you fell in love with him.
The day of the carnival.
Kira had come over to help you get ready for the date, and now she sits bored in your desk chair while you put on outfit after outfit. “Ugh, y/n. C'mon! If you don’t hurry up we’ll be late meeting them there,” she chastises you.
“If I’m gonna go on this stupid date,” you say pulling another shirt over your head as you respond, “then I’m gonna look cute as hell. Stilinski won’t know what hit him.” You grin mischievously to yourself as you step out of the walk-in closet and do a spin for Kira.
She sits up straighter as she takes in your outfit. “Oh, that is the perfect carnival outfit!” She squeals excitedly. “Wait, what do you mean ‘he won’t know what hit him’?”
“I mean,” you say as you primp your hair and make sure your eyeliner isn’t smudged, “it’s time Mischief gets a taste of his own medicine.” You smirk as you spritz your wrists with perfume and dab a little on your neck, just under your ears.
Kira rolls her eyes but grins nonetheless. “You are so bad,” she giggles.
“After tonight, Stiles will never forget that,” you declare confidently as you grab your phone and head for the car.
After a short drive, Kira pulls into the parking lot across from the carnival. It’s a few hours till sunset, so the lights don’t seem that bright. But, the place is buzzing with an absurd amount of activity. You and Kira make your way to the ticket booth, where Scott said he and Stiles would be waiting.
Sure enough, the boys were standing there waiting. Scott’s face lit up as he watched the two of you approach. Stiles had yet to notice as he had his head down and hands stuffed in his pockets nervously. But when he did look up, his brain stopped functioning.
There you were a few feet away and looking amazing as ever. More so, if that was even possible. Scott had embraced Kira as she approached and you stood awkwardly in front of Stiles, waiting for him to say something. When he continued to stare, you snapped your fingers in front of his face.
“Anyone home? Stilinksi!!”
“Huh? Wha-” he shook his head as he got reoriented.
“I asked if you were ready to get the armbands,” you repeated your question.
He swallows a lump in his throat as he nods, trying to act cool. “Yeah. I am definitely ready to do that.”
You smirk slightly, noticing the effect you were having on him. After getting your wristbands, Scott and Kira immediately ditched you two to go ride the Ferris Wheel first. You rocked back and forth on your feet awkwardly before stepping closer to Stiles.
“So, I guess they didn’t need us to chaperone them after all?” You say with a chuckle, trying to ease the tension.
He has one hand in his pocket and gestures around the area with his other. “Should we?”
You nod, licking your bottom lip before taking it between your teeth. As you look up at him from under your eyelashes, his mouth parts. He can’t believe that he’s on a date with you. He can’t believe that he’s now alone on a date with you. Do you even still think it’s a date? Or are you just wanting to kill time until Kira takes you home? Questions swirled in Stiles’ mind.
The questions ceased when he felt your hand slip into his. You pulled gently to signal him to follow you to a ride. He didn’t pull his hand away, but you could feel his getting clammy. Or was that yours? You stop at the end of a line for a ride and let go of his hand. Discreetly, you wipe it on your leg just in case.
“So, have you been to many carnivals?” You ask him to break the silence.
He scratches the back of his neck shyly. “Uh, no. This is actually like my first one,” he confesses.
You laugh, not believing that he’s never been to one. Upon seeing his nervous look, you stop. “Wait, seriously? Oh my god! We have to give you the best first time ever then!”
Just like that, both of you had forgotten your plans to tease each other. You were more consumed with spending time and getting closer. You enjoyed this nervous side of Stiles that was reserved and sweet. He enjoyed seeing the flip side of you that was confident and carefree.
You started with the Tilt-a-Whirl. Once seated in the booth-like car, you held tight to the bar over your laps. He gripped it as well, not knowing what to expect.
“It’s not as bad as everyone says,” you say to him. “And you only get sick if you ride it repeatedly. It gives you a fun little dizzy feeling.”
He watched you as you smiled excitedly and shimmied your shoulders as the ride started. When you went up, the car spun around and forced the two of you closer together. Every time it spun, your bodies pressed against each other and you could feel the warmth spread throughout you at such close contact.
Stiles enjoyed the ride. Mainly he enjoyed your excited squeals every time you were swung in a circle and pressed against him. The rest of the rides were like that. Except for one. On one, in particular, Stiles was very sure that he’d have a heart attack.
“Nope. I’m not going on that thing. It screams Final Destination,” he said staring up at the height of the ride with his hands on his hips.
You grabbed on to his elbow and pulled a little. “Oh, come on! This is the best one! All it’s gonna do is take us up to the top and then drop us back down,” you explain calmly.
“Okay, it’s the dropping us part that has me worried!” He says looking at you with a guarded expression.
Was he scared? That’s impossible, Stiles wasn’t scared of anything. Well if he was, you weren’t gonna force him to go on it. Even though you really wanted to but you were scared to go alone.
“Okay then let’s go get some food and play games,” you say slightly disappointed. Your hands left his elbow and you began to walk to a food cart.
He watched as you walked ahead of him, scolding himself for not going on the ride with you. He was supposed to be the one comforting you when you got scared. But, you abandoned the ride easily. He knew you could tell that he was scared of it, so you instead suggested something else. You were really something out of this world.
After getting two water bottles and some nachos, you sit down at a picnic table to eat them. As you take a bite of a cheesy chip, you make conversation.
“What game are we doing first? There’s darts, basketball, shooting…” you suggested several, not really caring which.
He didn’t seem to care as he answered, “Whichever you want to go to is fine.”
You slouched in your seat, unhappy with the new mood that’s settled over the two of you. “I bet you probably want to do that hammer game to test how macho you are,” you tease.
He chuckles as he takes a chip. “Oh, absolutely not. I’d like to keep some of my pride today.”
“Come on, Mischief. You afraid I’ll beat ya?”
“Yes. That’s exactly why I said I’d lose my pride,” he grins goofily at you.
You roll your eyes but drop it. You finish the nachos and go around playing a fair share of games. You paid for some as they were ridiculously priced. As you walked back towards the ride, you pass the hammer game.
An attendant calls for your attention. “Step right up, kid. You’ll win your girl a prize and measure how tough you really are!”
“No, thanks,” Stiles says as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.
“Oh, come on! I noticed she doesn’t have a single prize. You don’t want her to leave empty-handed so you?”
Before Stiles can respond, you interrupt. “I’m not leaving empty-handed. I have him,” you say proudly as you loop your arm around his.
He looks at you, stunned. You looked so happy and sincere when you said that. He can’t believe that this is happening. With a newfound confidence, he speaks again.
“No, babe. I’ve got this,” he says confidently playing along. Surprisingly, he kisses you on your cheek before stepping up.
You watch as he tests the weight of the hammer, getting a good grip on it. Looking back at you one last time, Stiles heaves the hammer over his shoulder and slams it down on the surface. The ringer goes up, up, and stops at quite a high marker.
It was impressive for a human. Scott could’ve reached the very top no question, but Stiles was happy he even made it to the middle. The man look stunned as he lets Stiles pick a prize for you. You giggled to yourself as he picked a medium sized stuffed dolphin.
He strolls back over to you and makes a big show of handing you the dolphin, half-kneeling in the ground. You gladly take it from him and hug it tightly to your chest.
“That was really impressive! But, I thought you wanted your pride,” you tease him.
He rolls his eyes as you continue to walk back to the rides. “Apparently pride means nothing if I couldn’t win you at least one prize,” he chuckles.
You stop walking and stare incredulously at him. He so easily was ready to embarrass himself to impress you. More than that, he underestimated himself a great deal. He stops and turns around, realizing that you weren’t next to him.
“What’s up?” He asks as he licks his bottom lip.
You slightly jog to catch up with him. Without warning, you sling your arms around his neck and hug him tightly. Stiles was surprised at the contact, letting out an 'oomph’ as you slammed into him. Nonetheless, he wrapped his arms around your torso. His fingers brushed the exposed skin where your shirt lifted up and you tingled everywhere.
You slowly retreated from his arms, already missing his warm breath on your neck. Despite having a jacket on, Stiles felt a cold chill when you let go. He stared at you curiously. Probably because he couldn’t figure out why you would randomly hug him like that. Sure, Kira said you had a crush on him. But, you’d never showed any sign until today.
In that moment that the two of you stared at each other, you were both glad that the sun was almost set. The slight darkness and carnival lights masked the blush on your cheeks. You broke the silence first.
“Well I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna go on the Drop Tower.” If Stiles could overcome his embarrassment, you could go on the tower by yourself.
“Alone? But-” Before he could finish, you had already taken off toward the tower. He followed close behind, getting second-hand anxiety from thinking about you being on that thing.
The line wasn’t that long, so very soon it was your turn to get on. You turned to Stiles. “Hold him for me?” He nods and takes the dolphin he had just won for you. You take a shaky breath and step up.
The attendant secures you in and then goes to make sure everyone else is secured as well. You grip the padded bat that’s over your shoulders and chest. Nerves are starting to set in as you begin shaking slightly, and you take deep breaths.
Stiles watches you from the gate. It didn’t take much to conclude that you were terrified to be by yourself. He watched as you laid your head back in the seat and close your eyes. God, he couldn’t let you go alone. He walks up to the attendant just as he’s about to start the ride.
“Wait! Excuse me. Could I-uh-could I get on next to her?” Stiles stuck his hand in his pocket while the other gestured the dolphin toward you. He swallowed a big gulp of air as he wills himself to not chicken out.
After looking over him appraisingly, the man opens the gate silently. “Thanks,” Stiles mumbles as he sets the dolphin next to the attendant before walking up the stairs to the platform. He wipes his palms on his pants nervously as he takes the empty seat next to you.
You open your eyes at the movement next to you. “Stiles? What are you doing??” You ask him incredulously. You didn’t make him get on here. You didn’t even ask a second time. So why is he suddenly on this ride that he’s terrified of with you?
“You looked nervous…I wasn’t gonna make you ride this thing alone,” he says softly. With a shy smile, he leans back and lets the attendant secure him in. Once he’s secured, the man begins to start up the ride. “Well, there’s no turning back now.”
Your insides lurch a little bit as the gigantic machine whirs to life and starts ascending. Stiles is holding onto his bars with a white-knuckles grip and scrunching his eyes closed. It’s darker than it was 10 minutes ago, making this all the more exciting and nerve-wracking.
You’re about midway up when the anticipation of the drop starts to mess with you. “Oh god. Oh god. Oh, my god!” You say as your voice starts to quiver.
“What?! What’s going on??” Stiles is immediately alert and looking at you.
You try to swallow the fear collecting in your chest. “Stiles, I can’t do this. This is so high! I can’t do this!” You squeak out.
“WHY THE HELL DID YOU GET ON IN THE FIRST PLACE THEN??” He asks exasperatedly.
You turn your head and look him in the eyes. Your brows are furrowed in worry. But, there’s a twinge of a smirk on your lips. “Because I’m scared now…but, when it’s over I’ll have the biggest adrenaline rush. It’s like butterflies are swimming in my veins, I get so pumped!”
Saying it out loud calmed you a little. It reminded you of why you were on this. To have fun! Stiles stared at you, mouth agape. You had to be the biggest adrenaline junkie he’s ever met to get on this ride. Suddenly, the ride made a loud noise. Stiles spasmed in his seat.
“OH GOD! WHAT WAS THAT?? FINAL DESTINATION!! FINAL DESTINATION!!!!!” He began screaming. His freak-out caused you to giggle. You tried to hold it back, but then it turned into a full-on laugh. He licked his lips as he stared at you, eyes wide in terror.
Thinking nothing of it, you grabbed his hand from the bar and interlaced your fingers. It was unlike earlier when you had grabbed his hand to drag him to rides. You squeezed and he felt the warmth of your hand spread through him. He settled a bit. “Stiles, relax. That just means we’re almost at the top.”
“I’m gonna have a heart attack…” he whispers as he squeezes your hand for dear life.
You hum in amusement. “Just focus on something else, Stiles! Like…look at how beautiful Beacon Hills is from up here! All the lights twinkling in the dark,” you coax as you bite your lip in content.
“Y-yeah, I guess it is,” he admits with a half-smile, almost relaxed.
Your heart was pumping in your chest and the sound of blood was rushing in your ears. You knew that it would be any second that you would get dropped. As you continued to hold Stiles’ hand, you could feel the both of you getting clammy. So, you gently pulled your interlocked hands to your lips.
They grazed the veins on the back of his hands before settling around a couple of his knuckles. It was soft and warm. It was also more relaxing than he ever could have thought. You opened your eyes as you let your lips leave his hand. He makes eye contact with you and opens his mouth as if to say something.
At that exact moment, you dropped. You gripped the bar and Stiles’ hand for dear life as you both screamed at the top of your lungs. At first, it was in fear of being dropped so suddenly. But, as you neared the bottom it became screams of excitement and enjoyment. The ride braces as you slowed to a gentle stop at the bottom.
The attendant released the bars and everyone got up to exit the ride. Every inch of you was shaking with the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Your heart was pounding so hard that you thought it might break your sternum. As you looked at Stiles, you could tell he felt the same.
You were still holding hands with him, and he certainly wasn’t going to be the first to let go. That wasn’t as terrible as he originally thought. He got to help make you giggle and scream excitedly. You kissed his hand which was unexpected and here you were, still clasping onto him.
Walking past the worker, Stiles grabbed your dolphin before handing him to you. As you walked in silence toward the entrance to meet Kira and Scott, your hands swung between you slowly. Stiles came to a stop, leaning his back against a pole near the archway. You stood to face him, hand still never letting go.
“Thanks,” you say as you smile at him.
His eyebrows quirk and he smiles curiously at you. “For what?” He questions, leaning his head back on the pole while he gazes at you.
“For going on the tower with me,” you begin and he goes to reply before you continue. “And for actually not being an asshole for the whole day. I know we came for our friends, but I’m glad you didn’t just ditch me when they left.”
He stands up straighter and uses your interlocked hands to pull you closer to him. As he grabs your other hand, he looks down at you with honey eyes, darkened by the night. “It’s the least I could do to try and start making up for being an asshole,” he admits.
“Why are you so mean to me? Really?” You whisper as you gnaw on the inside of your cheek.
He sighs, finally letting go of your hands. You think you’ve said something wrong and begin to panic internally. But, he replaces them onto your waist and pulls you flush against him. You swallow nervously as his hands snake around and rest at the small of your back.
“I was mean to you…” he looks down ashamedly before looking back into your eyes. “Because I like you and I didn’t think I had a chance.”
You’re taken aback by his confession. As you cock your head to the side, your arms find their way to his shoulders. Your hands lie gently on the back of his neck. You inched your face forward as you rose up on your toes to try and match his height.
He helped by leaning his head down to meet yours and pulled you closer yet again, even though you couldn’t be closer. Your noses brushed together before you looked into his eyes. Seemingly asking if this was actually happening. He answered your silent question by closing his eyes and gently pressing his lips to yours.
They were fuller than yours were, which made it all the more sweet. You used a hand to pull him further into the kiss and it began to be more than gentle. Your lips were just a sea of movement as you swiped your tongue against his. He slightly sighed into the kiss as he moved one hand to cup your jaw.
The sound of someone loudly clearing their throat caused you to jump apart. You used your thumb to swipe the corner of your lips before looking at the source. Kira and Scott had finally arrived and were staring at the two of you. Scott with a proud grin and Kira with an astonished one.
You cleared your throat, not daring to look at Stiles. You were sure that your face was red because your entire body was hot. “So, did you guys have fun?” You asked before rolling your lips together, still tasting him.
“Yeah…” Kira says slowly as a smirk creeps onto her lips.
The four of you walk out to the parking lot silently. Kira and Scott walk ahead as you and Stiles fall behind. “So, that was-” Stiles starts.
“Yep,” you say, suppressing a grin.
He half-turns to you as you continue walking. “Does this mean-”
“If you want,” you answer as you turn to him and stop.
He steps closer to you. “Oh, I want to.”
You grin and bite your lip as you look at him. “Cool. Me too.”
“Awesome,” he beams at you.
Before you know what he’s doing, he stands behind you and hangs his arms over the front of your shoulders. You take hold of his hands as you begin to walk, taking big steps to compensate for him walking behind you. You walk in-step with each other and you begin giggling.
“Hey, Mischief?”
“Yeah,” he says into your hair from behind.
“Maybe…don’t stop all of your teasings.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He kisses the top of your head and you can feel the smirk on his lips.
“Good. It kinda makes my day,” you confess.
You feel a chuckle rumble through his chest and you laugh along with him. Neither of you can believe you started out the week seemingly annoyed by each other and finished it out becoming an item. God, you were so glad you had a meddling best friend.
Warning: Anxiety, sad stuff, teasing, and maybe swearing.
Pairing: Stiles x Reader, Lydia x Reader, Lydia x Stiles
Notes/Tags: Here’s a little end of November treat for all you guys who have been waiting patiently for me to find the energy to finish this part. You are the true MVP’s. Thanks for believing I could get it done. Special shoutout to my little gem, @sassysweetstories, for giving me words of encouragement when I needed them most. I appreciate you so much!
After a night of unrestful sleep, Scott wakes me up early so that we can eat breakfast before practice. I trudge downstairs and sit down at the table. Scott stands in front of the stove shuffling a pan around as I rub my eyes tiredly. “How do you want your eggs? Scrambled or what?” He asks me cheerfully. I blow air out of my nose and groan as I stretch, trying to wake up. “It’s too goddamn early for that chipper tone.” He laughs and I smile sleepily. I rest my head on my hand as I watch him move around the kitchen. “So, what kind of eggs, Y/N?” He asks again. I scratch my head and think about last night. Stiles said that he loves me. That he’s in love with me. Hearing that makes this whole situation worse. Not to mention I never wanted him to know about my problems. Let alone hear him say that he wants to take care of me. I’m not a child or some invalid. I can take care of myself. I feel my cheeks flush and my eyebrows furrow as I become irritated thinking about it. “Earth to Y/N!” I hear Scott and snap out of my thoughts and notice he’s sitting next to me now. “Hm? Oh, I’m not really hungry. I think I’m just gonna get ready for practice.” I say flatly. He leans back and looks me over like he’s trying to decide something. Maybe whether or not to ask about last night. I know he knows that I was awake when Stiles was here. He had to have known because he came and slept in the chair next to the bed all night, and watched over me. I run my hand through my hair and sigh. “I don’t wanna talk about it, Scott. Stiles had no right to just storm in and see me when I was like that. It’s not fair. I worked so hard to not be the mental health girl here, and he just comes up in my life and ruins it. It’s not fair, I mean how- I don’t-” I start to stutter as my rambling loses focus, but Scott just listens and puts a hand on my shoulder.
“How about you go get ready and I’ll make something for you to eat before we leave?” He asks soothingly. How is he always so calming. He makes me wish I wasn’t an only child. If I had a brother like him maybe I wouldn’t have so many issues. Maybe I would, but at least I’d have someone like him to talk to about things. I smile and nod before leaving to get ready. As I’m almost out of the kitchen, my dog comes pattering in, looking around for food. “Oh shit! Scott, I totally forgot about him! I didn’t bring his food or anything. What was I thinking? Oh my gosh where am I gonna put him during school?” I start to spiral with questions while Scott gets a bowl out of the cabinet and then pours something out of a bag into it. “Scott, what are you doing?” He laughs as he sets the bowl down in front of Y/D/N. “I’m feeding your dog? I got this from the animal clinic, but mom wouldn’t let me actually have a dog so,” He scratches behind my dog’s ears, and I laugh as I leave to go get ready.
I dress slowly, not really wanting to go to practice today and see Stiles. Even if he won’t know it’s me, it’s still hard. I leave anything I don’t need for school or practice here because I’m going to come back afterward to get it. I gather my things and head back downstairs to see what Scott made me to eat before we leave. After entering the kitchen I see that he’s poured some cereal for me and set a banana next to it. “Eat the cereal now and you can save the banana for after practice. I know it’s not exactly healthy but the cereal will cheer you up, and the banana will give you energy afterward.” Scott says as I sit down next to where he’s eating his eggs. I look into the bowl and see my favorite cereal. I smile a bit. “How did you know Lucky Charms is my favorite cereal?” I ask taking a bite and chewing kind of fast. He swallows the bite he was chewing and answers nonchalantly, “Stiles mentioned it.” I freeze with the spoon in my mouth. I don’t even remember when that would’ve come up. But, Stiles actually did remember it. “Hm.” I hum as I finish my bowl and grab the banana to go.
We decide to take my car that way we can put all of our lacrosse gear in the trunk and our school stuff in the backseat. Once we get to the school, I park away from the lacrosse field, just in case Stiles sees my car and wants to talk to me. I hesitate before I get out, my eyes landing on the necklace hanging around my mirror. I reach out and touch it, causing it to sway. The light begins to catch the jewel and refract off of it, mesmerizing me. Before I know it, the moon is around my neck, completely black or fully eclipsed. I’m glad Mischief got me an adjustable one for my moods because lately I feel eclipsed. Not like the self I wanna be. I shake out of my trance and join Scott in getting our gear out of the trunk. I lean over to grab a bag and the necklace slides out of my shirt and dangles, catching Scott’s eye. “Are you sure you wanna wear that to practice, Y/N? The chain could break and you could lose it, or you know, Stiles could see it and figure it out. I’m actually surprised he wasn’t the first to figure it out. He’s the detective of our group.” He says lightly. I laugh a bit, “Yeah, I’m surprised too. I mean, does he not know my last name? Otherwise, he would’ve asked if I was related to the lacrosse player.” Then, I continue seriously, “But, I’m sure I wanna wear it. I just feel connected to it. Like it’ll somehow solve some of my problems. I feel calm when I look at it. Like it kind of, um,” I stutter trying to find the right words. But Scott knows what I mean as he finishes my sentence, “It anchors you.” He smiles gently, but knowingly at me. I wonder if the word means something to him, but I smile back and say contently, “Yeah. Yeah, it does.” We make our way to the locker room to get ready before the rest of the team arrives.
Scott and I are the first ones there. I still have to hold up my end of the deal with Coach, so Scott made sure we were up even earlier than the rest of the team would be. I’ve just finished changing into my gear when I hear someone come through the door. I grab my helmet and put it on hurriedly, just as Stiles rounds the corner of the lockers to stand next to me. He looks sleepy. Like he didn’t get much rest either, but he’s still here. With everything going on I had almost forgotten about our deal. Or maybe I was actually hoping he would’ve forgotten just for today. He mumbles something about “Morning,” then turns the combination on his locker that is unfortunately next to mine, and I just watch him. I could feel a knot in my stomach forming from just looking at him. Those people who say nerves feel like butterflies are wrong. My nerves feel like butterflies bursting into flames or something.
Everything was so quiet in this moment, I think I might’ve lost my hearing momentarily. It was easy to be mad at him this morning when I hadn’t seen his face since yesterday. But now, I’m reminded of all the reasons that I like him. His beautiful brown hair that lies flat against his forehead on early mornings. The way he scratches the moles on his neck to his cheek to wake up. How his tongue slightly darts out to taste his perfect pink lips. No doubt tasting what remains of the large cup of coffee he had before leaving home. He turns to look at me while digging through his locker and says something to me. I don’t hear it but I can see his lips move in the form of words. I’m too busy thinking about how sleepy his amber eyes look and how many times I’ve seen those sleepy eyes on late-night movie marathons the past couple of weeks. He may have said some irritating things last night, but that’s just my pride speaking. He was trying. And that’s more than almost anyone else has ever done for me.
I only blink when his slender fingers snap in front of my eyes. “Oh, w-what?” I say because I haven’t heard a word since he said “morning.” He slightly chuckles. How can he be in a good mood after yesterday? “I said,” he emphasizes, “you. look. like. hell.” He slowly says each word like I’m in kindergarten. I make a mocking face at him and respond, “Very funny, Stilinksi. I was up late last night, so I’m not really in the mood for your bullshit today.” He scrunches his eyebrows and sneaks a glance at Scott. Scott tried to signal not to push it, but he had already turned back to me. “Well that sounds like a personal problem to me, and I don’t really care. You’re not the only one who has long nights. You agreed to help me, and you don’t get to back out just because you’re tired from being a jerk to Lydia last night.” He shuts his locker door hard and sits down on the bench to lace his shoes. I look down at him, heat rising up my neck from irritation. I clench my fists and look at Scott, who raises his eyebrows and points one finger to the middle of his sternum. I figure out that he’s reminding me of my necklace, and my hand reaches up to feel it through my gear. I look at Stiles, who is now tying his other shoe, and my scowl relaxes. He doesn’t know it’s me. He doesn’t know what happened last night to make me give the jersey back. I guess he went to Lydia’s looking for me and she lied about what happened at her house.
“You’re right, Stiles. I did agree to help you, and my personal problems shouldn’t get in the way of that. I’m sorry, and I’ll see you on the field for sprints.” I leave the locker room before he can reply to me. Why can’t I just tell him everything and have it be over with? How much further am I gonna dig myself into this hole? I’m so emotionally exhausted from all this, but I have practice to get through. I shake the questions out of my head and start doing stretches. I gotta focus on lacrosse. The homecoming game is tomorrow. The only way I’m gonna be able to focus is if Stiles knows everything and the air is clear before the game. I resolve myself to tell him after school and hope for the best. Too bad I have an entire day to get through before that comes to pass.
~Stiles’ POV~
I watch, dumbfounded, as he walks out of the locker room. My mouth is slightly parted as I try to find words to ask Scott what the hell just happened. I turn my gaze from the door to my best friend. “What just-” I try to ask before I realize something odd. “Wait, what are you even doing here so early?” He looks surprised like he didn’t even realize that he’s never here this early. He sits down on the opposite end of the bench from me. “I, uh, I don’t know honestly. I woke up way before my alarm and couldn’t go back to sleep so I came here.” He plays with the strings on his lacrosse stick. I continue to eye him suspiciously as I proceed with my questions.
“Why aren’t you dressed for practice then?”
“I didn’t want to intrude on your private training with Y/L/N.”
“Ahuh. And where’s Y/N?”
“At home.”
“Is she coming to school today?”
“Yes.”
Either he’s gotten really good at lying, or he’s not lying about anything. I decide to ask him what’s really on my mind after last night.
“Do you- do you think she’ll talk to me today?” I ask quietly as I sit forward with my arms on my knees. Scott scoots down the bench to pat me on the back. “Yes. I really do. And no, I’m not just saying that because I’m your best friend. I’m saying that because I honestly believe that she will.” I smile against my will as I look over at him. My eyes light up as I think of some things that I could do to get her to talk to me quicker. Scott sees this look and shakes his head at me. “No. Whatever you’re thinking, no. You have to let her talk to you first, otherwise, she’s gonna panic and shut down. I know you’re dying to talk to her, but she needs to be able to do this in her own time.” I nod because I know he’s right. He speaks again before I can respond. “And if she does talk to you, just try not to have too many expectations. Like, she’s not gonna tell you all her secrets at once. At least I don’t think so. So don’t push the subject if she does talk to you, and I know that’s hard but just remember that at least she’s talking.” I nod my head as I take in his words. Alright. I can do that. I can be not pushy. I can be calm. She’ll talk to me if she wants to. I take a deep breath and repeat those words. “Okay. Thanks, Scotty. I’m gonna go before he flips out more.” He nods as I get up and leave. I hear him beginning to get his gear out since there isn’t much time left before the regular practice starts. I push the doors open and make my way onto the field for more torture in the name of improvement.
~Y/N’s POV~
About as soon as I’m done with my stretches, Stiles makes his way onto the field. “Alright, Coach. Whatchya teaching me today?” He asked, trying too hard to have a lighthearted tone. I wonder what other tone he’s trying to hide, but I can tell it’s not a happy one. I avoid eye contact because I don’t want to see what emotion is on his face. If he’s angry or sad, I won’t be able to handle it. Even if I show it terribly, I do care so much about this goofy boy in front of me. “We’re, uh,” I clear my throat and continue, “we’re doing sprints.” He looks a bit confused but tries to remain upbeat. “Um, and then what?” He swallows and I watch his Adam’s apple bob a bit as he waits for my reply. “And then nothing,” I deadpan. He closes his eyes for a second, seemingly trying to keep calm. “What do you mean ‘then nothing’?” He asks slowly. I sigh and walk past him to the track. “I mean,” I call over my shoulder, “by the time we’re done with sprints, it’ll be time for regular practice, genius,” I say jokingly. He shakes his head and half-chuckles as he walks over to the track with me. I take off all of my gear except for my helmet, like always. “Hey, why do you always wear your helmet for running? Doesn’t it get heavy or whatever?” He pointed out, trying to pass off his curiosity as an innocent concern. I roll my eyes and retort, “No. Doesn’t your head get heavy or whatever?” He laughs out loud for the first time I’ve heard in a while, and it’s wonderful. I can’t help but laugh with him. He steps back and nods approvingly, “Touché.” And with that, we begin our sprints. Even though we are both exhausted from little sleep, we still manage to challenge each other well.
We take a break after the last of the sprints before the rest of the team comes out, and go lean by the water cooler. Stiles grabs a cup and drinks hastily like he’s about to die of thirst, and I chuckle. “Easy there. Don’t want to throw up, do we?” I tease him. He eyes me while he continues to chug his water. I snort and he almost spits out his water. “Oh, now look what you’ve done,” he jokes. We both laugh lightly for a second. “Oh, hey. No special practice today after the regular one again. Sorry,” I say after our laughter dulls. “Oh, no worries. Is everything okay? You’re not slowly trying to stop practicing with me, are you?” He answers teasingly. I scoffed and nudged his arm playfully. “No,” I begin, “I just have some personal things I have to solve.” He looks at me and nods like he understands completely. “Yeah, actually I do too. So, good luck dude.” He replied nicely. Internally I wonder what he means by that but I tell him, “Yeah, you too.” Then, the rest of the team came out, and Coach spent the whole practice ranting about tomorrow’s game. Even though things were better with “guy me” and Stiles, “girl me” and Stiles had serious things to talk about still. I was a little distant during regular practice thinking about telling Stiles my secret. As a result, he scored a few shots while I was supposed to be goalie. He was ecstatic, but I was slipping back into my numb body from the anxiety that was building up.
Later that day.
It’s about one period after lunch is over and I’ve spent most of the day successfully avoiding both Lydia and Stiles. My only safe place has been with Scott. He’s been an amazing hero the whole day. In the classes that all four of us had together, Scott would sit next to me so that Lydia and Stiles couldn’t. That forced them to sit next to each other either behind or in front of us and talk to one another about who knows what. In most of those classes, Scott spent the entire time super concentrated on something. Like he was using his wolf hearing or whatever. Is that what it’s called? I have no idea. But the point is, I feel like Stiles was whispering to Scott in all those classes and not Lydia. In the rest that Scott wasn’t in, though, I had to sit with people that normally sat by themselves to avoid awkward silences from if I had sat next to either Lydia or Stiles. Then afterward, I basically ran out of the classroom to get to my next one without being stopped. I skipped lunch and went to the library to read. I wasn’t really hungry that much anyway with all my nerves. Scott texted me to make sure I was alright and then left me alone for the rest of lunch. Anyway, there’re about two classes left in the day, and I have the next one with Lydia and Stiles, but no Scott as a mediator. Then, last hour is Econ, but I skip most of that anyway for practice. How am I not failing that class? Stiles’ notes, that’s how. If all of this goes bad and he doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore I’m going to fail Econ, or maybe not since I’ll actually get to attend class without Stiles’ extra practice time.
I make my way dreadfully to the class with them in it. As I walk in, I realize that there are only two seats left because I had to stop and change my books at my locker. The two seats open? One by Lydia, and one by Stiles. I’m honestly turning around to just leave when the teacher walks in and bumps into me. I apologize quickly and make my way back to the two tables that they are sitting at. I stop in between them and make awkward eye contact with each. Lydia first, since she’s at the table closer to the front. She’s wearing leggings and a cute shirt with flats. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and although her makeup is done, it’s a look I’ve never seen her wear before. She has circles under her eyes from lack of sleep that concealer can’t cover, and the tip of her nose is red like she’s cold. Or like she was crying this morning and the makeup wouldn’t stay on. She looks at me with her beautiful green eyes and half smiles. It doesn’t quite reach any other feature on her face and her eyes seem regretful. At least I hope that’s what that emotion is. I clutch my bag straps tightly and try to breathe. Then, I look at Stiles. His notes are already sprawled out on his half of the table and he has a pencil stuck behind his ear. His hair is styled messily like he was in a hurry after practice, or as if it just gave up throughout the day. When his amber eyes meet mine, they instantly light up along with his smile. He seems surprisingly happy for someone who had the night he had. He scratches his cute triangular nose and then fidgets with another pencil in between his fingers. I hear someone’s throat clear and look up. The teacher is standing at their desk and staring at me. I realize that class must be starting and I need to pick a seat. So, I slouch my bag off and nervously sit down next to Stiles. I’m not ready to have a confrontation with Lyds about last night, and I told myself this morning that I would talk to Stiles. Tell him everything. So sitting next to him in class should be a good start.
As I sit down, he hurriedly scoots his papers over more to give me room for mine and my textbook. I nod at him as I smile shyly and his mouth parts. He looks stunned for some reason. But, just as quickly he smiles even brighter than before. Almost a sort of relieved smile. In front of us, Lydia sits up straighter and clears her throat as she prepares for the lesson. I feel a ping of guilt that I didn’t sit next to her and hope that she doesn’t think this means I’ve given up on us. I just want to give her the space she needs and to figure out what I’m doing before I talk to her again. I pull my supplies out of my bag and begin to spread them out in an organized fashion on my side of the table. After finishing that, I open my book to the page that the teacher has written on the board. Next to me, Stiles shifts in his seat as if he’s wanting to talk to me but is preventing himself from doing so. He clears his throat gently and I turn my head slightly towards him. As I look at him, my tongue slips out to wet my bottom lip and pulls my lip between my teeth gently as it slides back in. His eyes flick to the movements my mouth is involuntarily making and the corners of his mouth twitch upward into a small smile. “Uh, hi,” he whispers as he rests his elbows on the table and leans a little closer so I can hear him. I tuck some stray hairs from my French braid behind my ear and let out the breath I was holding as I smile back at him. “Hi,” I quietly murmur. My eyes nervously flit down to the table and then back up at him through my eyelashes. Neither of us speaks for what feels like an eternity as we look at each other intently. It feels as if we both have a lot to say but each of us is holding back verbally and trying to communicate through just that look. Then, the teacher begins the class and we are broken out of our gaze. We spent the rest of the class in a comfortable silence, stealing glances at each other as we worked.
Towards the end of class, I decided to take my chance to talk to him and pulled a piece of paper from my notebook. I quickly wrote down a simple question, “Talk after class?” and folded the paper and slid it over to Stiles while watching the teacher. He looked up from what he was writing and awkwardly scrambled to take the paper and open it in his lap. I stifled a laugh as he put the paper on the table and scrawled out a response. He folds it back up and passes it over to me under the table because the teacher has turned around. When I reach over slowly to take the paper from his hand, my small fingers glide over his calloused ones and a small spark of static makes me retract my hand with the note in it. I look down at my lap to open the note, painfully aware of Stiles watching for my reaction. Once the note is unfolded, I squint my eyes to decipher his messy handwriting. All it says is, “Absolutely.” I grin despite myself and without looking back at him I write one more thing, “My locker. Can’t wait.” After folding it back up, I wait a second for the bell to ring before setting the note on top of all of Stiles things and quickly walking out of the room. I can’t help but look down and grin mischievously as I make my way to my locker. He always makes things feel like some secret mission. I love that about him. I always feel like I’m a kid and having fun. On the other hand, Lydia makes me feel like a woman capable of more than I know. Both are things that I want to keep feeling. I breathe deeply and wait at my locker nonchalantly for Stiles to arrive.
While I’m waiting, I decided to listen to some music. So, I put my headphones on and fiddle with the straps on my bag. It shouldn’t take him that long to get his stuff together and get over here. As I’m trying to not seem like I’m standing around nervously, someone taps me on my shoulder and I jump a bit. I pull my headphones down around my neck and look at the culprit of my scare. My startled look is met with another one from a pair of gorgeous green eyes, but then her eyes light up as she stifles a laugh. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Y/N,” she says calmly. It’s Lydia. And I breathe a huge sigh of relief that she’s finally decided to talk to me. “Oh, I wasn’t scared I was just, uh,” I try to find something to make me not sound like a loser, “I was just waiting for Stiles.” I decide to tell the truth because I’m done trying to lie to everybody about the stupidest things. Her grin falters slightly, but she remains looking happy. She nods and folds her arms across her chest. She runs her hands along her arms a bit as if she’s uncomfortable. “Oh. Well, I guess I won’t keep you from that then,” she tries to say normally but it comes out in a flat and sad tone. She moves to walk away and drops her hands to her sides.
“Wait!” I panic and grab one of her hands, holding her in place. She looks between me and our hands, and I let go nervously. I clear my throat and think of something to say. I decide on, “Can we talk about last night?” She lets out a light breath and the features on her face finally relax from being guarded. “Yes, please. I’m so so sorry for kicking you out. I was hurt and I jumped to conclusions. I acted insecurely and I know that we don’t have a label because we aren’t official, but I want to be. And maybe it was just the fact that it was Stiles’ jersey that pushed my buttons. I don’t know if he’s told you but we have a history and for some reason, I just freaked out that he’s moved onto you. So maybe it’s not about you, but it was about me and Stiles too. Maybe I have something unresolved about it or haven’t gotten closure but-” I grab her hand again and she stops talking. I’ve never seen her nervously ramble on like this. I thought only Stiles and I did that. She looks at me and smiles as I gently rub my thumb over her hand to calm her. I take a breath and try to respond to all she’s just said. “Firstly, I cannot keep up with all you just said but I’ll try. Secondly, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m bad about lying about things for stupid reasons. I want us to be official too, but I have feelings to work through with Stiles first, so I hope you’ll be patient. And lastly, I have heard nothing about you and Stiles having a past until just now when it left your beautiful lips. Looks like I’m not the only one who keeps secrets.” I grin and she laughs lightly, which makes my heart melt. I squeeze her hand and continue, “But now that I’ve answered all that, you can continue with this ‘you and Stiles’ thing. You still have feelings for him?” I chew the inside of my lip nervously as I wait.
Her eyes widen as if she just realized that she let that slip. But, she relaxes again and gives me a soft smile. I don’t know what’s going through her mind, but every second she doesn’t say something is a second that I get more anxious. She opens her mouth to tell me what she was going to say when my phone rings with a message from my mom. That’s weird. She never texts me during school. She’s always like, “Focus on school so you can get a full ride to college.” I let go of Lydia’s hand and reach into my pocket to retrieve the interruption. I shrug as I say, “Sorry. It’s my mom. Probably just wondering if I’m staying the night at your house again.” She nods with that gorgeous smile and leans on the locker next to me as I read it.
Momma: Hey, Y/N, sweetie. Your father and I need you home after practice to tell you about some things.
My chest clenches as my mind races with assumptions. I stand up straighter and hold my phone with both hands as I quickly type a reply.
Me: Is everything okay? Am I in trouble? Is someone in the family sick? Oh my gosh, is Y/D/N okay??
The three dots appear in the bubble on the screen and my throat starts to tighten. After the longest 10 seconds of my life, her answer finally appears on the screen.
Momma: He’s fine! No one is sick. You haven’t done anything to be in trouble, have you? Lol. We just want to tell you about some things that we’ve been discussing for a while, honey.
I rest my head on the locker and close my eyes as I let out the biggest breath of relief. The panic subsides and I tap out a response before putting my phone on silent and back in my pocket.
Me: Oh thank goodness! Okay, momma. I’ll be home right after practice is over. Love you.
My phone buzzes again. I don’t check it because I know it’s just her saying she loves me back. “Is everything okay?” Lydia asks concernedly after seeing my reaction. “Yeah,” I breathe out, “Mom just wants me home after practice to talk about some stuff her and dad have been talking about.” She smiles at me, “Oh, that’s nice,” she trails off as if she’s thinking about something. “Watchya thinkin’ about, Lyds?” I ask, playfully nudging her shoulder with mine. She looks back at me, and I realize the people in the hallway are thinning out, and I wonder what’s taking Stiles so long. “Oh, um,” she murmurs trying to find her train of thought, “did Stiles ever find you last night? He came to my house looking for you and I told him to tell you something for me.” I furrow my eyebrows in a quizzical look as I respond, “I mean he came to Scott’s house, but I was asleep.” I pause, unsure of whether or not to tell her what he did last night. And I decide on honesty. No more lying about stupid things. “Well,” I continue before she can speak about it, “I woke up halfway while he was there, and he talked to me while I was pretending to still be asleep. He didn’t mention talking to you but he said some, uh, some things that I’m not sure if he means or not.” She looks at me puzzled, “What kind of things did he say?” She looks worried. But, I can’t tell what about.
I open my mouth and hesitate, still not quite sure if I was dreaming. Lydia is still looking at me with that worry in her eyes that I can’t tell what it’s about and I don’t want to keep her waiting. “He-” I pause and sigh before confessing, “He said that he loves me.” I’m not finished with the things he said when she jumps in with a smart conclusion. “Oh, he probably just meant as friends. The way that Scott loves you, ya know?” Her answer sounds calm, but I sense a slight uncertainty in her voice. And I think I know why. “Lydia, he said that he’s in love with me.” She closes her lips tight while she thinks about what I just told her. She closes her eyes and sighs, seemingly defeated in trying to find an explanation in that. Her eyes slowly open but remain trained on the floor as she asks me a question I did not know the answer to. “You’re in love with him too, aren’t you?” She inquired quietly. I begin to tell her that I don’t know how I feel when the warning bell for class rings. Startled, I clutch my necklace and take a breath. After looking around I realize that we’ve been talking the entire time between class. I pull my headphones from around my neck as we start walking towards our classes. “Listen Lyds,” I began, “I don’t know if I feel that deeply for him yet. And I don’t want to ruin anything we have by figuring it out. I was supposed to talk to him but I guess he just decided not to come.” I shrugged and pulled at a strap on my bag as we walked, nearing the place we have to split up for classes. She places a hand on my shoulder and we stop momentarily. “You don’t know that he bailed on purpose. Give him a chance to explain before deciding,” she advised me. I nod and give her a half smile, amazed by how she can be encouraging me to not be mad at Stiles when she’s also into me. She’s so cool like that.
She squeezes my shoulder before holding out her hand in an expecting manner. Unsure of what she wants I decided to lightly slap her palm with mine, and she giggles. Of course, her laugh makes me smile so I begin giggling too. “No, you doofus,” she jokes, “give me your jersey.” My eyes snap to hers and I see that she’s serious. I pull my bag around to the front of me and fumble through it trying to unpin it from all my notebooks. “Why do you want my jersey?” I inquired as I finally got it out and placed it balled up in her hand. She steps closer after putting it in her bag. Then, she leans forward so that her lips are almost touching my earlobe. Then in a quiet hum, she says, “So I can wear it tomorrow, of course. We may both be still figuring out our feelings about Stiles, but my feelings about you are clear. And I want people to know that I support you, Y/N.” Her voice is so melodic and sincere that my chest swells with affection for her. She slowly leans back and gazed at me, our faces inches apart. I can’t help but to smile because damn, I think I’m in love with her. “Thanks, Lyds. That means so much to me. Hopefully, tomorrow after the game everything will be sorted out.” I chime and overcome with the urge to be closer to her, I sweep her into a hug. She returns it and rests her head on my shoulder so that she can whisper in my ear one more time. “Good. Cuz I don’t think I can wait too much longer to get you back into my bed and explore each other more.” Before I can reply, she kisses me on the cheek and struts away to her class. I’m left in the middle of the hallway, watching her go.
Then I remember that it’s almost time for the second bell. “Oh, shit!” I pull my headphones over my ears again and take off jogging towards last period, just barely making it through the door before the bell rings. “Cutting it a bit close, aren’t we Y/N?” Coach quips at me. I turn around after entering the room and walk backward as I talk to him. “You and I both know that I’m never tardy. Plus, I have to leave in like 15 minutes anyway soo..” I trail off as he stares at me baffled by my mood. “I don’t know why you’re so chipper, but it needs to stop. You’re creeping me out.” He says as he heads to his desk. I put two fingers to my forehead in a salute as I take my seat. Two seconds after I sit down, Stiles comes running through the door and skids to a stop when he sees Coach staring at him from his desk. He begins to explain but Coach just puts up a hand. “Nice of you to join us, Stilinski. At least Greenberg is here on time.” He looks at a student in the front row before he scolds the kid, “What are you smiling about Greenberg? I’d still prefer Stilinski over you. Take a seat, kid.” He waves his hand at Mischief who’s still in the doorway. He hurries to take the seat next to me and I take out my notebook so I can take notes for 15 minutes. As I begin writing down the information about risk and reward, he leans over and in a whisper immediately begins apologizing.
“Listen, Y/N. I’m so sorry I missed meeting you in between class I-” he stops in the middle of his sentence when I look up from my notes. I give him a big smile because I’m genuinely happy to see him. His amber eyes light up when he smiles back, letting out a small sigh. “Hi, Stiles.” I greet him. “Wait, you’re not mad at me?” He questions and I just shake my head smiling to myself. “Okay good. For a second I thought you were gonna like think I stood you up on purpose.” He states. “Oh, I almost did,” I acknowledged his concern before continuing, “but you can make it up to me.” He becomes intrigued and leans over a little bit more. “Oh really? And how’s that?” He wonders aloud and his tone is slightly heavier than usual, almost husky. I cross my legs and sit up straighter as a shiver runs through me. I finally lean over and bat my eyelashes at him. He visibly swallows some air. “Hot chocolate at your house, about an hour after your practice? We’ll have more time to talk about…” I pause, looking at his perfect lips and licking my own before resuming my train of thought, “…things.” I look back into his eyes and they seem darker. I’m not sure why, but his cheeks are tinted pink as if he’s trying to hold back a blush. He clears his throat and croaks out, “Yeah, sounds great.” I sit up again and smile, “Great! See you then, Mischief.” I hum as I resume my notes, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him adjust the way he’s sitting in his seat. I smirk and continue writing until it’s time for me to leave.
Practice.
I’m in full gear, taking shots at the goal while I wait for the rest of the team to get to the field. Stiles arrives after I finish a shot, a bit later than usual. Without looking at him, I take another shot. “You took your sweet time,” I observed loud enough for him to hear. He looks at me surprised, and then his expression turns sort of, shy? He clears his throat multiple times while trying to answer, “Well, I, uh. I had, um, I had some guy troubles. If you know what I mean.” I whipped my head at him so hard with such a confused look that I’m sure if I had been drinking water I would’ve choked on it. “You mean, like, guy troubles,” I queried while gesturing to the private area of our bodies. He groans and throws his head down in shame. “Yeah,” he confesses, “I think this girl that I’m in lo-” he pauses after he sees me looking at him with eyes wide out of shock, “ this girl I like was insinuating some steamy things in the middle of class and I couldn’t help it.” I try to stifle a laugh unsuccessfully, “Aw man are you serious?” I tried to stop laughing but it was just so funny that I had caused it. He shoves me lightly and exclaimed, “Dude, shut up! Like it’s never happened to you.” I clear my throat and begin messing with my lacrosse stick, avoiding all eye contact with Stiles. “Well,” I begin, “not really. And especially not for a whole class period.” I laugh and he just stares. “No. No way that a 17-year-old guy has never gotten an unwanted hard-on somewhere inconvenient.” He prods the subject and I want to tell him that it’s physically impossible for it to happen to me but whatever.
Changing the subject, I instruct him to start taking running shots while I try to block him. The first few times I manage to get the ball away from him or successfully block the shot. But, he learns from the moves I’ve been using and then counteracts them to get around and make the shot. He’s a quick learner. I don’t know why it’s taken him this long to learn how to play lacrosse. After the last shot I told him to take, he successfully flipped me and I landed on my back. Slightly winded I stayed on the ground for a second. “Hey man, you good?” He asks, helping me up from the ground. “Yeah. Just think my ass landed on a rock. Damn, that’s gonna leave a bruise,” I whine, rubbing my ass. He laughs and we break for water when we hear the bell ring to wait for the team to come out. As I’m gulping down my water, like I probably shouldn’t, he catches me off guard with a question I haven’t come up with an excuse for. “So Y/L/N,” he ventures, “why don’t I ever see you around during school?” This time I choked on my water and started coughing while I tried to think of an answer. I decided to give denial a shot. “You don’t see me around school? That’s weird,” I retorted. He eyes me as I take another big sip of my water. Something I do when I’m uncomfortable. Drink something. Ya keeps me from having to talk. Usually. But, he keeps prying. “Nope. Not once. Not in a class, in the halls, at lunch. Never saw you anywhere but here,” he says the last word sticking his lacrosse stick into the ground. I kept sipping my water to stall but eventually, I was gonna run out. At the last drop, I had to think quick. “Well, to be honest, I’ve basically got all my credits to graduate high school. I only take a couple of filler classes at the end of the day so that I can stay and play lacrosse.” He nods and looks at me thoughtfully. It’s not totally untrue. I do have almost all my credits, but I’m taking advanced ones now to get into better colleges. “Oh, that makes sense,” he admits and I finally breathe again. I refill my cup and think to myself how close that was. I thought I was in the clear when he blurts out another question I have no answer to, “What’s your first name?”
Now is when I try my deflecting tactics. “What’s yours?” I questioned him back. He looks at me like he didn’t expect that. “I asked you first,” he demands as he crosses his arms. “I asked you second,” I state and I mimic his actions. He uncrosses his arms and sighs heavily, “Are you really gonna play this game? I invented it.” He challenges me and I’m glad the subject has changed. “Oh really? Well, don’t feel too bad when I beat you at your own game.” I remark smugly. He’s just about to reply when the doors from the high school burst open with lacrosse players pooling out onto the field. He punches me in the arm. “I guess we’ll have to play another time.” I punch him back. “Yeah, I guess so,” I agree. Our conversation is broken up as the team reaches the field and Coach’s whistle begins to blare.
At home.
After dropping Scott off at his house and picking up Y/D/N, I pull into my driveway and walk casually up the steps with my baby trailing behind. I turn my key in the door and let him go in front of me before I close and lock the door. I’m humming to myself with my headphones on, going about my usual routine of unpacking from school when I get home. I skip to my room, in more of a happier mood today than I was yesterday. As I was about to unpack my book bag for homework later something brushes my shoulder. I swing around, adrenaline immediately kicked in and fists up. I sigh a huge breath of relief when I see that it’s my mom. I yank my headphones off so I can hear her. “Jeez, momma! You gave me a heart attack.” She laughs, and her eyes brighten. My mom is so beautiful. Always has been. “I’m sorry, sweetie. But, I yelled your name and knocked twice,” she explains as she gestures to the door. I go to my closet to pick out a less lazy outfit to go see Stiles in. “It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting it is all,” I say, skimming through my clothes. She sits on my bed and questions me, “Going somewhere?” I stop and turn around to look at her, “Yes, I’m going to see Stiles after you and dad tell me whatever you were gonna tell me.” Her smile falters like she had forgotten we were supposed to have a family discussion. “Oh, alright. I suppose that’ll be good,” she muttered, barely audible.
She’s starting to worry me. “Momma, what’s going on?” I ask seriously. She gets up and nods for me to follow her to the living room. It’s all happening like when I got the texts. My mind is jumping to terrible scenarios and my throat is tightening and my chest is getting heavy. When we walk into the living room, dad is sitting there with food from my favorite Chinese restaurant sprawled out on the coffee table. I skip over to the couch and pick up the order they got for me. “What’s the special occasion? We haven’t had this in forever! You must’ve driven a town over for it,” I gushed as I began to eat my food. My dad kisses my forehead and moves to sit in one of the chairs across from the couch. “Anything for my little girl,” he sighs. My mother does the same with the other chair. I look up and see that they are both looking at me dejectedly. I set my food down slowly and swallow before answering their unhappy gazes, “What’s going on?” I look between them and then they look at each other. My father breaks the silence, “Should you tell her or should I?” My mother slumps her shoulders slightly and then sits back up straighter after glancing at him. “I’ll tell her, but you’ll be the one explaining it,” she decided. “Honey,” she begins calmly. The way she says that makes it seem like whatever comes next is okay. But it’s not. It’s far from okay. The next 6 words she said shatter my whole freaking world.
“Why the fuck do you have Stiles’ jersey in your bag?!”
All I can do is open my mouth as I try to think of an answer. I mean, I had only accepted it as a friend, and I thought she was mad at me so she wouldn’t care. But, I don’t think that’s a good excuse for accepting it. I’m definitely not mentioning the conversation about Stiles wanting to ask me out after what I just did with Lydia. She’ll freak out even more. But, we’re not a defined thing, and I don’t know what’s going on between me and Stiles. How did I get in this situation?
She took my silence as a bad thing, and I mentally curse myself for not being able to fucking explain anything well or in time. “Oh my god! He asked you to wear it! Didn’t he?!” Her voice is higher than usual, and I know that there is no good answer to this so I just nod. She scoffs at me, causing a painful ping in my chest. “And you accepted it?” I just nod again. “Wh-why would you accept this from him? I told you what it means this morning!” She lowers her voice from a yell, and now she just sounds confused and exasperated. I open my mouth to answer, but she cuts me off. “Oh my god….. are you dating him now? How could you be with me just now and be dating him?!” I can tell she’s getting worked up again because her voice went back to being high. I close my eyes and take a breath. “No, Lyds. We’re not dating. He asked me to wear it as one of his best friends. You yourself told me it didn’t have to be romantic.” I look up at her hoping that she’s understanding. She crosses her arms and waits for me to continue. “It was in the hallway after you started acting weird in class, and I was sad about it. He comforted me and asked me to wear it as a friend,” I trail off when I realize I’m rambling. Her face softens, and she uncrosses her arms. “Why didn’t you mention it before if he asked you to wear it as friends? Like, before we just did that?” She gestures to the bed, and I lower my head guiltily. She moves to sit on the bed next to me, and I pull the sheet up further to cover myself. I sigh and open my eyes, looking anywhere but at her. “Well, when I first got here I was just worried about why I thought you were mad at me. And then, all of this happened,” I say, gesturing to the bed like she did before continuing, “and honestly, the jersey was the last thing on my mind while I was being with you. Intimately.” I blush and she lifts my head to look at her. “I get it. I did have you a little distracted from the real world for a while.” We both laugh.
Thoughts run through my mind as I try to figure out how to tell her that Stiles and I might have more than friendly feelings for each other. She catches me zoned out and waves her hand in front of my face. “Helloooo?” I shake my head out of my thoughts, and she giggles. “Hmm?” I say, snapping my eyes back to focus on her. “You looked a little spaced for a second.” She tucks a piece of hair behind my ear before getting up from the bed to continue getting dressed. She tosses me my clothes, and I stand from the bed to get dressed quietly. I notice her watching me. “What? Do I have something on me? Is my hair weird?” I say smoothing down the hair on my scalp. I finish dressing, and she laughs and walks over to me to cup my face. “No! No, it’s just that you are so cute all post-sex.” I give a half smile because I don’t know how to respond. She pulls me in and pecks my lips. She notices that my lips didn’t respond as quickly as before and quirks her brows together. “What’s wrong, Y/N?” She searches my eyes as I just freeze, suddenly unable to make my mouth work in any way. I bite my lip nervously as I prepare to tell her the truth. “It’s…about the jersey…” I say slowly, trying to test how she’ll react. She moves her hands from my cheeks to rub my arms. “What about it? I understand now that it’s just a friend thing. And besides, we aren’t officially dating for real yet. So, you can wear his Friday.” I snap my eyes at her when she says the word “yet”. Oh my god, I don’t know what I’m doing. I like both of them a lot.
I take a breath and decide to just blurt it out. “Lyds, I’m gonna tell you something, and you gotta promise not to get upset.” Her curious expression turns to a serious one, and she nods. I take a quick, deep breath and just tell her the truth. “Stiles swears he asked me as just a friend, but that brought up the fact that he said he wanted to ask me out at some point. So, I know he likes me romantically, and I encouraged him because I like him like that, too. And I think that even if I hadn’t thought you were mad at me today, I would’ve still reacted the same. So, it’s not to like get back at you for shutting me out or anything. It’s-” She removes her hands from me and holds one up for me to stop talking as she sits down. A look of shock washes over her face and then a look of sadness. I walk towards her with my arms out and try to explain. “I really like you both, and I just don’t know how this happened. And I-” She throws both of her hands up in between us to stop me from approaching, and she gets up to cross the room to her closet. “Lydia? What are you doing?” I say cautiously, swallowing the lump in my throat from this situation.
She pulls a hanger from the closet and removes what looks like my jersey from it. After putting the hanger back, she crosses the room again to stand in front of me. Before I even understand what’s happening, she’s putting my jersey in my hands. “Lyds, why are you giving this back?” I ask, a small crack threatening to give away my sudden sadness. She takes a shaky breath, presumably trying to hide her own sadness. “Because I don’t think I should wear it unless you figure out what you want.” I shake my head rapidly and try to give it back to her, but she won’t take it. “No, no. I-I’ll give Stiles his jersey back. Just, p-please don’t do this..” I stutter out, my eyes beginning to sting with tears. Without a word, she moves to open her door and stands there deflated. “I think you should go home, Y/N.” And with those seven words, I fall apart. The tears flow rapidly, and I try my best to not sob loudly. Because when I do, it doesn’t stop for a long while. I wipe my eyes and gather my things as quickly as possible. I look at her one last time, hoping she would tell me to stay. But, she closes her eyes tight and sniffles, and with that, I dart out of her house and to my car. Once there, I let the loud sobs rack my body and rest my head against the wheel. Thoughts race through my head about the events of the past few hours. How could I fall for two people? How could she kick me out after we were just so close? And why did I feel so bad that she kicked me out? I’m so freaking confused about everything, and it feels like it’s all my fault. I sit there like that for a few minutes, before getting the crying under control long enough to drive home.
I pull up to my house and enter quietly, hoping not to wake anyone. As I creep up the stairs and head towards my room, I hear muffled talking. No. Muffled arguing. I stop in front of my parents’ door and quietly place my ear to it to listen. I can’t quite make out what they are arguing about, but it doesn’t sound good. They never argue like this, that I know of. I head towards my room and close the door. My dog perks his ears up, and I pat him on the head. “It’s gonna be okay, sugar,” I say, not so convincingly. So many feelings are rushing through me: confusion, anger, hurt, heartbreak, sadness, even physical pain in my chest. To keep myself from sobbing again and alerting my parents that I’m home, I decide to just be numb. Numb never really means numb. You’re aware of all of your emotions. You just don’t react to them as if they’re your own. I sometimes compare it to being a zombie. Because essentially I am. I don’t react to anything, nothing affects me. This isn’t the first time I’ve done it, but it’s definitely one of the hardest times. I empty my duffle bag of the dirty clothes from today and fill it with clean practice clothes and clean clothes to wear tomorrow. I fill my bag with necessities, such as brushes, toothpaste/toothbrush, deodorant and all that jazz. After putting those things in my bag, I change out of my clothes and into a pair of clean pajamas. I grab my bags and head to the door. I stop in my bedroom doorway and pat my leg as a signal for Y/D/N to follow. Which he does. After getting out to my car, I text my mom, saying I’m staying at Lydia’s, and that I’ll be back tomorrow after practice. I start my car and leave, not wanting my drama to make whatever they are arguing about worse. After several minutes of driving around aimlessly, I decide I better find somewhere to stay. A few more minutes of driving pass, and I pull up into the driveway and park behind the familiar blue jeep.
I sit there for a while tapping my fingers on the wheel, trying to figure out how to approach this. Should Stiles’ house really be the place that I spend the night after what just happened? And what if he doesn’t even let me stay? I look over at Y/D/N, who stares at me intently. “What should a do, sugar?” He probably senses that I’m not okay, but he doesn’t see the signs of it, like crying. So, he waits patiently for me to need him. Which I always do. After looking at each other for a while, I come to a decision. “I know. I know. You’re right.” I say as if he’s actually holding up the other end of the conversation. I breathe out a huff of hot air before pulling out of the driveway and parking around the block. I dig through my bag, searching for the stupid article of clothing that started this whole mess. “Aha!” I exclaim to myself as I pull it out of my bag, slightly startling Y/D/N. “Sorry,” I say and pet him tentatively. After cracking the windows and exiting my car, I beep it to make sure it’s locked and make my way back around the corner to the front porch of Stiles’ house. I raise my hand to knock, but I freeze. Suddenly, I’m heartbroken that I’m about to do this, and it’s extremely hard to be numb to it. Because I know how he’ll react. He’ll think he did something, and demand to know what’s wrong. I just can’t deal with that right now. And I don’t even know why I’m doing this, I just feel like it’ll solve something. Instead of knocking and having to see his face, I decide to hang his jersey on the doorknob. After successfully making sure it stays there, I bang on the door a few times and dash towards the street and hide behind a car. I peer through the windows of it and wait to see if he opens it. A minute or so later, a groggy looking, shirtless Stiles appears with gray sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips. God damn it, why is he so fucking gorgeous and making this so hard. He looks around sleepily for a second and after seeing no one, moves to close the door. He stops when he looks down and sees the jersey there. It’s too far away to be able to tell what his face looks like. Shock or worry maybe? He grabs the jersey and takes a few steps out onto his porch and looks around, searching for me. I duck my head when his eyes scan over the car I’m behind and hope he didn’t see me. Scrunching my eyes closed, I will myself to be numb. To not react to how much this is hurting me. It’s like ending something that never had a chance to be something, and that’s agonizing. I hear the door slam closed and venture a peek to see if he went inside. He did. I get up carefully and jog back to my car. Once inside, my phone lights up with a text from Stiles.
Stiles: Y/N why did I just find my jersey on my porch?
I ignore it and start my car, making my way to where I hope I’ll be staying tonight. On the way there, my phone lights up with more messages.
Stiles: Are you giving it back??
Stiles: Why though? Did I do something wrong?? :(
Stiles: Please answer me. I’m getting worried.
Stiles: Y/N just talk to me.
With each new message, my heart pings more painfully than the last time. I gulp, trying to swallow the cries that want to escape. Y/D/N must sense that the numb is wearing off because he lets out a few tentative whines. I glance at him and muster a smile for this little ball of fur that loves me. “I know. We are almost there, and then I’ll be good. I promise.” He lays his head back down on his paws and waits for the journey to be over. But, before it is, my phone lets out an earsplitting howl. Which startles me and causes me to swerve the car a bit, before I even it out again. I realize that it’s Stiles’ ringtone. He must have given up on texts and decided to call. I carefully reach over and turn it onto silent, so that I can focus on driving. I hear the vibrations, still constantly going off, and I smile to myself a bit as I remember the day that we recorded that ringtone for him.
“Ah! Stiles stoppp!! I can’t breathe!” I scream through fits of laughter as my eyes begin to water. “No! Not until you admit that Star Wars is better than Star Trek!!” He screams wildly as he continues his tickle assault on my abdomen. “Never, ever, ever would I tell a lie to you, Stiles!!” I giggle as I try to fight off his slender fingers. Eventually, he realizes that I’m not going to budge and stops, leaving his hand on my stomach as I lay sprawled out on the floor. “Damn you and your vow to always be honest with me.” He says dramatically, shaking his fist at the ceiling. “I think you should try out for the school play with that acting,” I say sarcastically, looking up at him from my place beneath him on the ground. After the debate on SW v. ST broke out, he began to tickle me, and we somehow wrestled each other onto the floor. I’m much smaller than he is, so it was easy for him to pin my arms above my head with one hand and tickle me with the other. All while straddling me. “Oh, yeah? And what’s the play about?” He asks curiously, while still holding my hands above my head. I think hard, closing my eyes while trying to remember. My eyes shoot open as I remember what it was, not realizing Stiles had leaned over and was close to my face now. “Oh, um. Hi.” I say as my cheeks begin to blush. He smirks with a devilish look that I had never seen before on him. “Hi. Don’t mind me. What’s the play?” I swallow, suddenly nervous about the position we were in. “It’s, uh, it’s,” I clear my throat and continue, “ it’s Little Red Riding Hood.” I manage to stutter out. He quirks an eyebrow and chuckles. “Oh, and what part should I play.” He says moving closer to my face a bit more. “Um. Well, there’s the lumberjack, or..” I whisper, being cut off by him. “Or the Big Bad Wolf. I like it. But, only if you’ll play Little Red?” I giggle. “And why would you want me to play that part?” I ask curiously. The smirk returns to his face as he answers, “Run the main lines with me real quick, and you’ll see. You know, the ‘my what big teeth you have’ thing?” I nod, not knowing where he’s going with this.
I clear my throat and begin with the lines I remember. “What a deep voice you have,” I whisper, feigning a higher voice. “The better to greet you with,” he growls, and I suddenly have a warm feeling between my legs. “Um, what big eyes you have.” I continue on. “The better to see you with.” He whispers leaning closer, only inches away now. “What big hands you have,” I say softly. “Mm. The better to grab you with.” He says as he slides his hand under my shirt higher and higher. “Uh! What big teeth you have!” I say, panicking about what he’s gonna do next. His hand stops just below my breast, and he lowers his head so that his breath is fanning my lips. “The better to eat you with my dear.” He says seductively, and he moves to close the gap between our lips. “Stiles! What the hell is going on here?!” I hear a voice boom as the front door slams closed. My eyes widen in panic, and everything’s a blur. Stiles launches himself off of me to a standing position, while I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding. I lay there on the floor, not knowing what to do so I just panicked. And I literally played opossum, throwing my hands over my face and not moving. Stiles tries to stifle a panicked laugh at our predicament. “Oh, uh, we-we were just running lines for the school play.” He answers his dad’s question. I peek my through my fingers and see the red creeping up in between the moles on his neck. “Ahuh. And you had to do that on top of Y/N, in the middle of my living room?” The sheriff asks, and I audibly groan. I’m so embarrassed that the fricking sheriff caught me underneath his son like that. Stiles laughs this time, not being able to hold it back. “Next time it’ll be in my room?” He ventures. “Ahuh. Do we need to have the discussion about condoms?” The sheriff asks his son, and Stiles’ face freezes flashing his eyes to me for a second before back to his dad. While I recover my eyes I faintly whisper, “Oh God, please strike me with lightning right now.” The sheriff laughs. “No! Dad. Sheesh. It’s not even like that.” He says weirdly. I uncover my eyes again to see him looking at his dad weirdly as if he’s trying to talk to him through facial expressions. “Rigghhht. Y/N are you staying for dinner tonight?” His dad directs his question at me. I move my hands and tilt my head up so that I’m looking at him upside down. “Yeah, that’d be nice Mr. Stilinski.” I give an embarrassed smile, and he leaves the room to change out of his uniform.
Stiles bursts out laughing, while I just lay there completely confused and self-conscious about that encounter. “Ohhh, come on. Enough with the pity party.” He says as he takes my hands and hoists me up to my feet. I wipe myself off and huff. “I’m not having a pity party.” I glare at him until his smile fades. “Oh, come on, Y/N. It wasn’t that bad. Besides, I think I found a new passion in life.” He grins at me. I scoff. “Is that theater or torturing me?” I say playfully shoving him. “Well, as much as I love torturing you, I love doing the opposite more.” He winks at me, and my mouth falls open. He chuckles, and steps closer. “I think I’d make a pretty good wolf. Don’t you think?” I scrunch my eyebrows skeptically, and he mocks being offended. “Don’t believe in me? Here listen to this!” He steps back and takes a wide stance. He clears his throat before throwing his head back and letting out the most awful howl. “Ow-ow-owwoooooooo!” He drags out the last part. I burst out laughing, for the second time that day. He goes to continue, but I cover his mouth with my hand. “Wait!! Wait, I wanna record this!!” I grab my phone and step back so that I can get his whole wolf stance into view. I click a picture of it and move closer to record the sound. I hit record and give him a thumbs up. He proceeds to redo the howling. Maybe more awful than before, and I try to hold in my laughter to get a clean howl on the recording. Once I recorded a good amount, I hit stop and began laughing again. “You’re crazy Mischief Stilinksi!” I say, and he laughs with me. “Well then you must be a full moon, ‘cuz I’m only crazy around you! Plus, you’re just as beautiful. Even more so.” He says the last part seriously, but I couldn’t help but giggle at how cheesy he is. At the end of my giggle fit, I let out a content sigh. “Oh my gosh,” I giggle just a bit more, “I love you, Mischief,” I say incredulously, shaking my head at him. And actually, not even realizing I said it. Then, his dad called down the hall that dinner was about done and with one last look at Stiles I skipped to the kitchen to eat. Not noticing the phone in his hand.
So, that picture is his contact one and shows up along with the howl, every time he calls. I laugh to myself, remembering that day fondly, but nothing about what I had said before dinner. Before I knew it, I was around the corner from my destination. After parking the car around the block, I gathered the things I needed for the night and called for Y/D/N to follow. He’s so well behaved, I mostly don’t need a leash. But, once we step onto the porch in front of the door, I pick him up and raise one of my hands to knock. Before I could even knock, the door swings open, and I come face to face with, hopefully, someone who will let me stay with them. I open my mouth, surprised because I didn’t let them know I was coming. “How did you-” I say looking over my shoulder and back at them when they answered. “Your dog.” They say simply, and I remember what they told me. “Is it okay if I crash here tonight? I think everyone hates me right now, and I just-” I manage to choke out, suddenly becoming emotional again. They pull me into a hug, and my dog sniffs crazily, trying to get to know the new person. They rub my back soothing me and usher me inside. “Of course it’s okay. Why don’t you get ready for bed, then we’ll talk about it, okay?” I nod, wiping my nose on my sleeve. I get my phone out and turn it on since it’s no longer ringing. As I pass the table in the hall, I set my keys and phone on it and head up the stairs. After showering and getting ready for bed, I picked up Y/D/N and settled into the bed they were letting me sleep in. Soon, they came back in and sat on the corner of the bed next to me. “I don’t want to take your bed.” I begin to feel like I’ve already overstayed. “No, no. It’s absolutely fine. I’ll sleep in the chair. I’ve done it before.” They say and laugh. I smile sadly and hold my dog to me. They move so that they are sitting next to me against the headboard, and I lay my head on their shoulder. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you said no.” I feel their shoulders shake as they laugh. “I would never abandon a friend in need. So, tell me what happened.” And so I did, trying my best to keep it together so it didn’t come out like a garbled, whiny mess. After crying so much again, I finally felt sleepy. Soon, I drifted off to sleep, barely noticing when the bed shifted as they left to go do something. I was so heavily asleep, that I had no idea what was going on downstairs.
~Stiles’ POV~
I’m lying in bed, half asleep when I hear a loud banging on the door downstairs. My dad is working a night shift at the station, so it’s either someone who wants to kill me or I don’t even know who would knock this late. I make my way down the stairs with my sweats hanging around my hips and shirtless because it was rather hot earlier. I try to look out the window to see who it is, but if there’s anyone there I can’t see them. After swinging the door open, I look around and find that no one is around. God. Kids must be seriously crazy to be ding-dong-ditching the sheriff’s house. And they didn’t even ring the doorbell. I roll my eyes and swing my head low as I go to shut the door. But when I do, I see my jersey carefully hung from the doorknob. I furrow my eyebrows trying to think how it got here. Maybe Y/N lost it, and someone returned it? Doubtful. Y/N is so organized, she wouldn’t lose this. Not in less than a day. Which means that something must’ve happened to make her change her mind about wearing it. I grab it off the doorknob and take a few steps out onto my porch. She must still be close, she would want to make sure I got it back. Right? After scanning the dark for a few seconds, I realize she must’ve left because she doesn’t want to face me. I step back into the house, closing the door behind me. Trying to think of what I should do, I run upstairs and grab a shirt and shoes. Before heading out to my jeep, I shoot her like a million texts, trying to figure out what I did. With the jersey in my hand, I settle into Roscoe and make my way to Lydia’s. The only place I could think of since I don’t really know where she lives.
I could go to the station and find her address, but that would take too long. While I’m on my way, I call her multiple times, hoping that that god awful ringtone would make her answer. After several calls, I realize she must’ve turned it off. I pull up at Lydia’s and rush into her house and up to her room. She never locks the friggin door, which is not safe. When I burst into her room, she’s startled and lets out an angry, “Stiles!” “Sorry, Lyds. I was wondering if you know where Y/N is? She gave this back to me, and I don’t know why.” I say confused, as I hold up my jersey to her. Her eyes widen, and she purses her lips. Only then do I realize that her eyes are puffy, and her nose is red. “She really gave that back?” She questions me sadly. “Yes, Lydia. Why have you been crying, though?” I interrogate her, never liking when she’s hurting. She gives a half smile and laughs slightly. “Of course she gave that back.” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes as she whispers to herself. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I furrow my eyebrows at her. She’s acting weirder than usual. She lets out a sigh. “Oh. Nothing. And I’m fine. I just…had an argument with my boyfriend. A big one.” I sit down beside her and put my hand on her shoulder. “You mean Y/L/N? What did he do? I swear I’ll kick his ass if he hurt you.” I say, fuming that he’s such an ass. She laughs loudly. “No! No, you won’t. Because it was both of our faults, and it was a dumb argument. But, anyway,” she changes the subject, “I don’t know where she is. I assume she’s at home. But, I don’t know where she lives either.” I watch her avert my eyes as she tells me this. I think she’s lying about knowing where she lives. They’re there all the time. I know because they always post on social media about their hangouts. I decide to let it slide, knowing that if she was going to tell me she would. “Well, okay. Thanks anyway.” I sigh, moving from the bed to the door. “Stiles?” I turn to face Lydia. “Hm?” I ask while scratching my neck. “If you find her,” she bites her lip, trying to figure out what to say, “could you-could you tell her I’m sorry? And that it was wrong of me to do that? She’ll know what I mean.” She looks sad, and it makes me wonder if she fought with Y/N and not Y/L/N. I look her up and down, then nod before leaving her house. I lock the door behind me as I exit.
Desperate to find her, I go to the only person that I know can find her quickly. I realize that I could wait until tomorrow, but I’ll never be able to sleep until I know why. The closer I get to my destination, the more my heart starts to ache. What if I don’t want to know the answer? What if that day at my house, and what she said in the hallway today didn’t mean anything? My breathing starts to get shallow a couple blocks away from where I’m going. God, don’t have a panic attack in the jeep. Don’t have a panic attack at this very moment. I’m looking at all the parked cars as I get closer to the house, and I notice one around the corner that looks familiar. I stop the jeep in the middle of the road and get out, leaving the door open. I walk up to the car, trying to look through the windows without looking creepy. Deciding that there’s no way to not look creepy at night while looking into someone’s car, I put my face close to the glass and cup my hands around my eyes to see. It’s really clean. Almost nothing personal in it. I’m about to walk away when a glint catches my eye. On a dainty chain hanging from the rearview mirror, is a charm that I know belongs to Y/N. It’s a light blue circle with a black jewel eclipsing part of it. It’s a moon. I got it for her a few days after the Red Riding Hood thing at my house. The black jewel is adjustable so that she could make the moon different phases for whenever she wants. I’ve never seen her wear it, but she told me she put it someplace she would always see it.
I stare at the necklace incredulously. Why would her car be parked around the block from where I’m going? Does she live on this block, and I didn’t know? I get back in my jeep, drive a few seconds further and pull into the driveway behind the dirt bike. I jog up to the porch with jersey in hand and knock rapidly on the front door. I would let myself in, but Melissa confiscated the key I made. He better get his little wolf ass up because this is an emergency. My knocking stops when he cracks the door open and looks through it. Upon seeing me, his face turns from confused to shocked. I tilt my head at his reaction because he’s usually happy to see me. He keeps the door cracked, though. “Hey, man! What are you doing here so late?” He smiles at me. A bit falsely if you ask me. “I need your help. Why do you have the door like that? I thought Melissa was at the hospital.” I look at him questionably. He’s hiding something. Which is weird because we don’t keep secrets.
He makes an “o” shape with his mouth and furrows his eyebrows before answering. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, she is. I just, uh,” he clears his throat, “I’m just super tired from practice. So, what do you need help with?” He closes his eyes for a moment, which to anyone else it would seem like he was just tired. But, I’m not anyone else. He’s listening to something.After opening his eyes again, he opens the door a little wider and stands up straight. Though he still doesn’t let me in. Getting slightly more agitated by the minute, I begin to ramble. I told him how I had asked Y/N to wear my jersey and how she had said yes. I told him about how afterward there was mention of asking her out and how she played coy. And how in the middle of the night she randomly leaves the jersey on my door handle. “And that is why I need your help, Scotty. I don’t know what I did or what’s wrong. And she won’t answer her phone so I can’t figure it out. But, I just want to know what’s wrong so I can fix it. So, I need you to track her because Lydia says she doesn’t know where Y/N lives, but she’s lying.” I finish with a huff and shove my jersey at him.
He shifts uncomfortably in the doorway, causing the door to open up slightly more. He doesn’t realize this as he slowly pushes the jersey away from himself and back to me. “Dude, I’m not gonna track her in the middle of the night. Or ever. That’s like, a violation of her privacy or something.” I begin to argue, “But, I-” Scott cuts me off with a lighthearted tone. “Stiles, I’m sure if Y/N wanted you to know where she was, you would know. And I’m sure she also has a reason for giving the jersey back. Maybe it’s not about you. Maybe she’s going through some things that you don’t know about or understand.” He raises his eyebrows wondering if I understood and was going to leave. He knows too damn much. Why is everyone conspiring against me finding Y/N?! I swing my jersey over my shoulder and shove my hands in my pockets. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’ll just catch her tomorrow.” Scott lets out a relieved breath and smiles, waiting for me to go back to my jeep. As I turn around, my eyes wander just past Scott’s head and into the hall. My sight lands on the table against the wall, and I freeze in my tracks. “Scott,” I say through gritted teeth, “why are Y/N’s keys on your hall table?!” My voice rises slightly.
His eyes widen, and he whips his head around to look at where I’m looking. He turns back to me and snaps the door to his body, but it’s too late. I’ve already seen her stuff laying on the table. “Those aren’t Y/N’s keys.” He tries to lie his way out. So much for honesty. “Scott. I can see all her weird little charms on it!” I raise my voice more and throw my arm in the direction of the table which is still blocked by the door. And suddenly, I remember seeing her car around the corner. I connect the pieces in my head, and without anyone else filling in the blanks, my mind goes to the worst place. “ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH Y/N?? IS THAT WHY HER CAR IS AROUND THE CORNER, AND YOU WON’T LET ME IN??” He tries to shush me, but I feel like I have all the evidence. I lower my voice from a yell, but I am still seething. “You know what she’s going through because she’s here! She came here after giving me my jersey back because she’s gonna wear yours! And earlier, Scotty, when you thought I didn’t notice you were listening to something?? You were listening to her upstairs, weren’t you?” With each question, I get quieter and anger turns to sadness. “Stiles, I-” I throw my hand up and take a deep breath. “Why do you do this to me? First, you make out with Lydia when you knew I liked her. And now?? Now, you’re sleeping with Y/N even though you know that I love her!”
We both pause when we hear that word come out of my mouth. I’ve never said it out loud because I’ve never even thought it before. “Stiles, I’m not sleeping with her! Those aren’t even her keys!” I shake my head as I can’t believe he’s still trying to lie. I fumble in my pocket before taking my phone out. “Oh yeah? That’s not her stuff? Her keys? Her phone?” I hit Y/N’s contact on my phone and listen to it ring. After a few seconds, the phone on the table vibrates and lets out an awful-sounding howl. I bite my lip to stop it from quivering. I feel betrayed. After hanging up the phone, I stare at Scott. He’s looking at the ground, defeated. “So, just tell me, Scott. Tell me the truth. Because you can’t say that’s not her phone when you know that’s my ringtone. I told you about that day and how it was the first time I realized that I liked her as more than a friend. I mean I probably did before that, but that’s when I knew.” A single tear slides down my cheek as I remember that day. He sighs and looks up to meet my eyes. “I am not sleeping with her. But, she is asleep upstairs. I can’t tell you why she gave the jersey back because that’s her secret to tell. But, I can tell you why she’s here. She has nowhere else to sleep tonight, Stiles.” I open my mouth slightly, not understanding why she has nowhere to go.
“But, what about her house?” Scott glances up the stairs. “Her parents were fighting when she got home. She didn’t want to cause more problems.” My heart breaks a bit as he tells me this. I always thought her parents and her were happy. "Well, Lydia would’ve-“ I begin. He turns back to me and shakes his head. “They had a fight. A big one. That’s where she was coming from when she went home.” I, too, look up the stairs as if I can see her. The thought of her fighting with her best friend broke me. I knew something was up with Lydia and Y/N when I saw her tonight. “She could’ve stayed with me?” I whisper, my voice cracking a bit. He smiles sadly at me. “That’s why she went to your house in the first place. But, ultimately, she decided to give your jersey back.” I look down because I have no idea what to say or do. “W-why wouldn’t she tell me? I would’ve let her stay with me even if she gave this back… I would’ve, I would’ve-” I search for the words of how much I care for her and how I would’ve helped her, then Scott placed his hand on my shoulder. I meet his eyes, and there’s something in them that I don’t like. “Scotty, what aren’t you telling me?” I ask quietly.
He opens and closes his mouth like he doesn’t know how to describe it to me. He finally pulls me inside, and we stand at the bottom of the stairs. “You gotta promise you’re not gonna storm up there and wake her up. She really needs to sleep. She’s so drained from today.” I look at him concernedly and then nod for him to tell me. “Stiles, when she got here..” I stare at him waiting for him to continue. “She arrived with her dog.” He says that so seriously, but I’m not getting what the big deal is so I let out a laugh. “So? She brought her dog to stay the night. We already know she loves animals. Why is that bad?” He leans against the stair railing before elaborating. “Stiles, he’s not just her pet.” He raises his eyebrows like I’m supposed to know what the hell else a friggin Y/D/B is supposed to be. “Oh my God, Scott! Stop being so dramatic and tell me!” He sighs and looks me dead in the eyes. “He’s not just her pet,” he relaxes his features into a sad expression, “he’s a support dog. Her support dog.” I look into his eyes, trying to understand what he’s telling me. “Did she tell you? Was he wearing one of those vests?” I ask confusedly. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “He wasn’t wearing a vest, but I get the sense that she doesn’t want people to know. Which also means, no, she didn’t tell me. I could tell. The way he looks at her and sticks close. He’s trained to be attentive to her.”
I grip the stair rail, reeling from this information. “So, if he’s a support dog,” I begin my conclusion slowly, “then that means that Y/N has a mental illness? But, she’s never been like this since we met!” Even as I say the words, I don’t believe them. He shakes his head like I’m missing something. “I don’t know, man. It’s not always obvious. We can only guess and assume, but we won’t know unless she wants us to.” I drop my head and rub my eyes while I think about what I can do. While I’m thinking, Scott turns his ear to upstairs again. “What are you doing? Is she awake?” Scott suddenly goes around me and up the stairs. “Stay here. I’m gonna check on something.” He tells me, but I’m already following him up the stairs. He’s not gonna keep me from making sure she’s alright. We walk quietly down the hall so we don’t wake her. As we get closer to the room, I can hear a small whining sound. Scott is in front of me so I tap him on the shoulder. “Is that her dog whining? Does that mean something bad is happening?” I whisper, but he just holds up his finger and shushes me. After peeking into the room, he stands up straight and leans against the other side of the doorway. He gestures for me to do the same. I take my place in the doorway and see what he heard. It’s Y/N. She’s the one whining. She’s on her back, and all of her limbs are slightly moving. Her head keeps twitching, and I realize she’s having a nightmare or something. Her dog is lying quietly at her feet. I don’t understand why it’s not doing its job and helping her or something. I can’t watch her like this anymore, I have to help her. But before I can move out of the doorway and over to her, Scott puts his hand on my chest to stop me. “Just watch.” He nods toward the scene unfolding with a small smile.
I look back towards the bed and see what he’s talking about. Slowly but surely, her dog lifts his head up and looks at her. After staring for a few seconds, the dog rises to his feet and walks towards her head. He stops around her middle and lays himself so that he’s right up against her stomach. Her arm brushes the dog, apparently making her aware that he’s there. Then, she just rolls over and wraps her arm around the dog gently. She’s no longer making noise, and she’s lying peacefully with her dog. I let some air out of my nose as a corner of my lip turns upwards. “Wow. That’s like… magic or something.” I whisper. “She knows how to take care of herself, Stiles,” I hear Scott say to me as I watch her sleeping soundly. I pull my eyes away from her and look at him. “I know, I know,” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck, “but what if it gets so bad she can’t do it by herself. What if something happens that’s so bad, her dog won’t be able to help. Am I supposed to just stand by and watch her hurt? I want to be there for her. I wanna be able to help her and hold her like her friggin dog does. I love her, Scotty. And I don’t care about her illnesses, I care that she didn’t tell me so that I could tell her I love her with all of it.” I grit my teeth, and he just nods, knowing I’m not done ranting. “I don’t think this has to do with why she gave the jersey back. Which means she’s lying about something else. And I don’t know why she feels the need to, but you’re right. When she’s ready she’ll tell me, and I’ll be waiting so I can tell her that it’s okay. Whatever it is.” He claps me on the back lightly. “That’s very cool of you, dude.” I look at him and pull him into a quick but meaningful hug. “Thanks, man. This, uh, this helped a lot.” He nods and moves to walk back down the stairs.
I wait in the doorway, and Scott turns back towards me. “You coming dude? We have an early practice.” Without turning back towards him, I answer, “Yeah, man. Just give me a second.” I walk quietly into the room and kneel down next to the bed in front of her. Gently brushing the hair away from her face, I tuck it behind her ear and lean in to whisper to her. It doesn’t matter if she’s asleep, I want to say this to her out loud. “Y/N,” I whisper softly, “I’d wait forever for you to let me in. I’d wait as long as it takes for you to realize that I love you. I know you’ve got your issues. But, trust me. I have my own too. I know you don’t need me to take care of you or help you out with yours. But I want you to know that I want to take care of you. So, when you’re ready to give me your problems, I’ll take them all and tell you I am in love with you still..” After making sure that my little speech didn’t wake her, I move to get up off the floor and leave. But, in a moment of insane courage, I move to kiss her on her cheek. I place my lips sweetly on her soft skin and let the kiss linger for a few seconds. She sighs in her sleep and stirs a bit, but stays asleep. I hope she doesn’t take too long to let me in because I’m dying to kiss her for real. I leave and return to my house, unable to sleep well after all that I’ve learned tonight.
~Y/N’s POV~
I hear voices that wake me from my deep sleep. But, I remain in a light daze as I continue to lie in bed. I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or not, but I swear Stiles is talking to me. It’s like he’s right next to me. He sounds muffled at first, but with some footsteps, his voice becomes clearer. My eyes stay closed as it’s hard to open them due to exhaustion. I feel a hand on my face and in my hair. Then he says those things to me, and I’m sure that I’m dreaming. Stiles would never say those things to me. So, I’m sure that I’m dreaming. But then, he kisses me and now I’m sure that it’s real. I’m awake, but I don’t dare open my eyes. I don’t know what I’d do or say. And so I listen to him leave, and my eyes open. I lay awake holding my dog, unable to sleep well after all that I’ve heard tonight.
Part 5 of Female is probably gonna be either a little or a lot longer than usual. I’m really feeling this chapter and I don’t want to split it up. Thanks for waiting✌🏻
Man this is difficult. It’s lucky it’s not real people because I would be here all night trying to decide. My celeb list is so long 😂 thank you for the tag @ofmoonlightandstardust !!! I’m going to do this in no particular order because I would be here forever.
Had a revelation recently and thought it might help other people too.
There is absolutely NO shame in having a ton of projects on the go and switching between or even dropping them on a whim.
Hobbies are meant to be FUN.
You can have 20 writing projects, or knitting, or whatever your thing is, and putting them down for a bit or abandoning them is a-okay.
I personally would never think that someone who started playing a video game and then decided to play another before it was finished was a quitter, so why am I so judgemental towards myself?
Doing your hobbies in a way that brings you joy isn't selfish or weak, it's...literally the whole point of them. Go nuts!
avengerdaisy