Rules on request??
Can you do one where Stiles finds out his girlfriend has a chronic illness like lupus or something and he adjust his life to be there every step for her. Even the time in the hospital he stays and sleeps in the bed with her holding her. He always seemed like he would be the golden retriever type đ©· and she doesnât or does know about the pack you choose
This is literally the sweetest request ever and so on brand for him! I decided to "give" her something else because I don't know anything about lupus. I am definitely not a medical expert of any kind and I do not claim to be, but I have a couple family members who have the chronic illness I chose, so I am slightly familiar with it. Everyone should always do their own research though! What I wrote mostly focuses on the events before finding out, but I can continue this and go into more detail on what happens afterwards if people would like me to. Also, I apologize, but the last third, give or take is kind of rushed. I hope you like it though! Thank you for the request!
Also, I will take any request with a grain of salt and tweak things if I need or want to. But I'm open to anything!
Word count: 1,658
His heart was racing and falling at the same time. There was no way this was actually happening, right? Not to her. Â
His hands shook as he gripped his phone to his ear. Focusing on Scottâs voice was getting increasingly more difficult as he tried not to spiral. Why didnât her dad tell him? Why wasnât he with her right then, holding her hand and sweeping away her worries. Shit, he was so worried, and Scott clearly didnât know all of what was actually going on. Â
âScott, wait, what are you saying?â Â
âSheâs here. In the hospital. All my mom told me was that she passed out and now theyâre doing brain scans.â His friend was plainly shaken up too.Â
Brain scans? Stiles felt sick. Everything he witnessed his mother go through when he was a little boy crashed into him all over again. What if this was the same thing? What if she had what his mom had? What if-Â
âIâm on my way.âÂ
Stiles broke nearly every traffic law in existence as he raced to Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, to his beloved girlfriend. He needed to get there as fast as possible; he needed to know what was going on. He absolutely despised being out of the loop.Â
Frantically sprinting into the building and nearly running into not one, but two nurses who were going home for the night, he arrived at the front desk. But where the hell was Melissa?Â
His feet almost left the floor when the sweet voice broke through his rapid breathing, saying, âOh good, youâre here. Come with me.âÂ
Stiles turned to look at the curly-haired, soft-eyed woman. He couldnât help that his voice trembled as soon as he opened his mouth. âWhatâs going on? Is she ok? Did something happen to her? Have they found anything yet? Why did-âÂ
âStiles.â Melissa placed her aged hands on his shoulders in an attempt to ground him. âBreathe. Everythingâs going to be fine. Sheâs going to be fine.âÂ
âDo you really know that...?â he asked hesitantly.Â
She paused for a moment, understandably. There was no way to know anything for sure. Not yet, at least.Â
âLetâs just go see her for now, ok?âÂ
He nodded and let her guide him to his girlfriendâs room. As they walked, Ms. McCall told him everything she knew. She explained that the poor girl had passed out in the kitchen while helping her dad prepare dinner, banging her head on the corner of the granite countertop and burning her forearm with spilled gravy in the process. Her father practically carried her to the car as soon as she hazily woke up and brought her in to the hospital. Her second-degree burn was cleaned and treated before the doctor decided to check for a concussion. Hearing the true explanation for the CT scan relatively eased Stilesâ nerves, but there was still so much to decipher. He needed to see her, preferably immediately.Â
They reached the door of the room she was checked into when they moved her from the ER. However, Melissa did not reach for the handle, causing Stiles to give her a look of curiosity.Â
âStiles,â she started, exhaling a deep breath, âI want you to be prepared for whatever this is.âÂ
His curiosity deepened and twisted as the spires of concern within him sharpened and stood taller. âWha- what does that mean?âÂ
âIt means that, sometimes, something as small as passing out isnât always as small as it seems...â Â
The womanâs eyes were filled with a specific type of pain, one that Stiles was familiar with, but hadnât seen in her for years. Since he was so young when his mother was sick, he never truly realized how much agony Melissa experienced as she watched a dear friend (and that friendâs family) of hers suffer. It brought her a horrible aching sensation to see the damage a singular disease could inflict on three good, genuine people, and not be able to do something significant to help. That was her job â to help. But there was really nothing she or anyone was capable of to improve the situation. Â
Stiles swallowed in a faulty attempt to soothe his suddenly dry throat. He simply nodded, and in return, the sweet nurse gave him an empathetic smile. Of course, she didnât want to scare him with what she said, but she had given bad news too many times that week.Â
âAre you ready?âÂ
He sighed, trying to take her advice and finding it incredibly arduous. âYeah, I think so.âÂ
As they quietly entered, Stilesâ eyes softened upon seeing the girl who stole his heart sitting up on the hospital bed. She looked incredibly tired, but watching her mouth curve upwards when her gaze met his made him feel like the luckiest man alive. Not because of the situation, obviously, but because that cute little smile was for him. Â
âHey, stranger.â Her raspy voice was surprisingly gleeful, all things considered. Perhaps Stiles just had that effect on her.Â
âHey,â he chuckled. âYou feeling ok?âÂ
She simply shrugged and glanced at her father who was standing next to the bed. Â
Begrudgingly, the man cleared his throat and excused himself from the room. He supposed that giving the lovebirds no more than a couple minutes wouldnât result in an utter catastrophe, even when Stiles is one of the pair in question, who hastily sat down on the edge of the bed as soon as the door clicked closed. Â
âAre you sure youâre ok? Do you need me to get you anything? What can I do?â He took her hands into his.Â
Her smile grew as she saw the love and devotion he had for her, not to mention the worry. She didnât want him to stress himself out, but she had to admit that those wide eyes were adorable. Â
âIâm fine, I swear. Just... stay with me for a while?â she said, her voice turning bashful.Â
âAbsolutely. Thereâs nowhere else Iâd rather be. Got that?â His hands squeezed hers as he leaned forward.Â
âYeah,â she nodded, her face approaching his, âI got that.âÂ
As if he had a sixth sense for his daughterâs desires, the man swiftly entered the room again, causing both of the teensâ head to lurch backwards. Stiles tried to be sly as he slowly and awkwardly pulled his hands away and stood from the bed, backing away cautiously. A doctor stood in the doorway, along with Melissa.Â
âDr. Vandenberg wants to run a few more tests while we wait for the CT scan results, just in case itâs not a concussion.â Her father began pulling his phone out of his pocket. âI have some things I need to do for work, but Iâll be back in the morning, alright? Is that ok with you?â Â
The information that was sprung on her felt like a spear piercing her spine and sending a poison of anxiety rushing through her bloodstream. All she could do was nod. There was no other option, anyway. Â
He nodded back at her before his eyes locked onto Stiles. âYouâre staying with her.âÂ
It was more of a command than anything, but the boy would never object to that regardless of whose mouth those words left. Â
âYes, sir.â Â
Stiles was by her side for as many tests as he was permitted. He could tell that this was more frightening for her than she was divulging; it was harrowing. Therefore, he desperately desired to bring her some semblance of comfort. And he succeeded, to a degree.Â
Afterwards, their time together was briefly ceased while he picked up the closest thing to a couple of ârealâ burgers Beacon Hills could provide. They contentedly ate their late dinner together, squished against one another once she made room for him next to her. He kissed away the condiment that was smeared on the corner of her mouth, making her giggle. Â
Additionally, he held her close and kept his eyes glued to her form, making sure she was snuggly falling asleep without interruption. Without realizing it, he, too, was swept away into a slumber. Their trepidations momentarily fizzled and were replaced by fantasy-filled dreams, and morning rolled in fast.Â
When her father returned, the doctor explained the various test results they received. Stilesâ girlfriend was officially diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), a chronic illness which frequently inflicts dizziness and fainting due to a lower blood volume returning to the heart. It can be managed with an increased intake of salt and water, but will be part of her for the rest of her life. Â
Stiles felt a surge of anger at the news â there was nothing he could do to make this nuisance of a disease go away and his girlfriend did nothing to deserve it. However, he swore to himself that he would stay by her side, hold her hand, and keep her safe whenever her body got the best of her. Â
He kept his promise throughout the rest of school, their engagement after he proposed, and their marriage. He did whatever he could to help, whether necessary or not. He always went the extra mile for her, even though it wasnât an illness that would debilitate her from living her life. However, it was definitely inconvenient and dangerous at times.Â
There was an instance in which she passed out while driving on the freeway, leaving her car to drift into the guard rails. Thankfully, there was very little traffic, so no one else got hurt. However, she was back in the hospital with a few minor injuries and her husband (for every minute of the stay). Â
This battle was never fought alone, and Stiles had a unique talent for making her feel cared for without any semblance of being coddled. He knew how admirably strong she was and exactly when she needed him to step in and hold her. POTS would not break her, nor their bond. Â
Are you going to comment on the dob stuff that's going around right now?
I don't personally know him or anyone else involved and I'm not part of the lgbtq+ community, so it's not my place. đ
who do you ship stiles with in the show?
That's a tough question because I wish I could ship myself with him haha. Anyway. In all seriousness, I like Stalia more than Stydia... I don't know, they just seemed like a better match and I loved their dynamic. Also, their breakup was so confusing which bugged me, but regardless... I just feel like Lydia's feelings for Stiles weren't expressed well enough for me to like them together, but that's just me. And I don't really like her that much to begin with but that's a whole different rant I could go on.
Thanks for asking! đ
Stiles on his 100000th rant of the day my beloved
Word count: 632
(This is definitely based on Jess and Lane in class from Gilmore Girls, but not exactly the same. Season 2, episode 19 for anyone who's wondering :))
Stiles, late as always, comes stumbling into his first period classroom, practically falling into his seat, which is conveniently right behind his girlfriend's. He looks around at the students next to him in confusion, not having a clue what they are working on until the teacher not-so-kindly slams the test on his desk. His eyes widen as he flips through the many pages and scans the countless questions. He sighs and reaches into his backpack, loudly rummaging around before freezing. He removes his hand and taps on his girlfriend's shoulder. Stiles' girlfriend, trying her best to focus on the test she surprisingly tried to study for the night before, ignores the obnoxious tapping and furrows her brows.
With a huff of frustration, Stiles whispers her name, and when he gets no response, he whispers it more harshly.
Clearly bugged, she whispers back, "What?"
Stiles leans over his desk, hoping that she won't keep ignoring the urgency in his voice if he's closer to her ear. "Give me a pencil."
"I don't have another one," she mutters.
His eyes narrow at the back of her head, "Then give me a pen."
"We only have like twenty minutes left."
He enunciates excessively due to his irritation, "Then give me the answers."
She sighs and shakes her head before responding quietly, "There's a pen in my bag."
Stiles glances at her backpack on the floor. "I can't go through your bag"
"Yes, you can"
He speaks frankly, his hushed tone slipping away from him, "My mother would crawl out of her grave and barbarically kill me if she knew I did something so immorally against her teachings." Receiving an aggressive shush from the teacher, he ducks his head down.
She rolls her eyes and successfully maintains her whisper, "You've done far worse and survived this long." Begrudgingly, she fishes out a pen from her bag and reaches behind her to hand it to him. "Just take it and shut up."
Smiling victoriously, "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Stiles' eyes linger on the back of her head before looking down at the test and sighing. He races through it, barely reading any of the words printed on the pages. By some miracle, he finishes in time despite guessing on pretty much all of it.
As the couple walk down the hallway after class, Stiles' girlfriend gives him an impressed look while speaking teasingly, "You really finished the whole thing in less than twenty minutes?"
Stiles shrugs and uses a cocky tone, "Oh, yeah. Anyone with at least two brain cells could. I guess your singular brain cell is just inferior to my three."
She laughs lightly, nudging him with his elbow. "Makes perfect sense. So, wait, why were you so late?"
He sighs as he answers, "There may have been a minor issue with a certain vehicle..."
"I feel like this Jeep is doing you more harm than good-"
He quickly interrupts her, knowing what she's insinuating and speaking firmly, "Absolutely not. No. Never."
She looks at him with a hint of sympathy, "I'm not telling you to do anything, I'm just making an observation."
Stiles stops in front of his locker and faces her. "The only thing you get to observe is me fucking your brains out in my beautiful Jeep after school," he pauses, realizing what words just came out of his mouth. His face turns slightly red but he decides to take a leap of faith and roll with it, his voice turning softer and more sincere, "Please?"
His girlfriend smiles and looks around to make sure no one heard his blunt words. "Return my pen to me after the last period and you have a deal."
Stiles' face lights up and he makes a firm fist, elated by his success.
HELL YEAH, GUYS!!!! I LOVE Y'ALL SO MUCH.
More fics are coming soon it's just this one request has made me realise how much I hate a character and that's put me off writing so much. No hate to the requester of course, that's my bad for accepting it and this is just the consequences of my own actions. However, I am wanting to write something so if you wouldn't mind filling out this poll underneath it would be greatly appreciated!!!
I'm begging on my hands and knees, please pick one!!!!
The "as long as it's" repetition is killing me omg.
AH Thanks for tagging me, beautiful!
Um, hello? I feel like I would remember this? Or maybe I've gotten so many concussions that I, in fact, do not remember this...
Anyway, @julianasversee @dollface-xoxo and anyone else who wants to play! đ
tysm for the tag @balladofareader!! đ€
write your name/nickname in the character headcanon generator and see what you get!
wait so um...
npt: @mysummerchild @haeerizm @cowboylikemily @sarastellasari @dxstoeskyvjbess @whoo0sh + whoever wants to join!
BAHAHA same though-
THE GRAY HAIRS? HIS HAND? OH MY GOSH?
Polaroids of Dylan unwrapping presents from his girlfriend today via Instagram
Maybe like a cuddle fluff where heâs laying on top of you and playing with your curls?
Wow, it's been a long time since I got this. I'm so incredibly sorry for the wait. I have no excuse other than falling into the rabbit hole of Sebastian Stan... So, yeah, I had no inspiration for anything else. Again, I'm so sorry. I hope this turned out ok...
P.S. This can apply to natural curls or heat curls, whichever works for whoever is reading :)
P.P.S. I just realized that I misread the request. Shit.
Word count: 573
He was mesmerized, to say the least. He always had been. He'd stare at the back of her head as she walked in front of him, watching her luscious curls bounce with every step. He'd constantly be dying to touch them, and he'd try until his fingers were clutched to himself closely, rubbing the ache away after having them get whacked a few too many times. Apparently, some people don't like having their hair meddled with.
Thankfully, that's not the case for his girlfriend anymore. Now that they're happily dating, he gets to touch whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and he's made that very clear. She no longer minds Stiles' insistence because she is officially sure that it's out of affection, not annoyance.
The two snuggle up during any free time they can spare, and for as long as they can get away with, in countless positions and arrangements. They take turns spoiling the other with caresses, paying extra close attention to the other's hair and scalp (Stiles' favorites). There's a certain smirk that appears on his face when it's his turn to get his hands on the precious silk of hers.
Stiles lays on his back with his girlfriend's head placed gently on his chest, and their legs tangled. He brushes all the hair back and over her shoulders, away from her face. His eyes are focused but keep a delicate gaze. One by one, he lightly pulls on each spiral with his calloused fingertips until it extends to its full length, then lets go, watching it constrict again. His smile grows slowly in adoration, not noticing the confusion that grows on her face.
"Stiles...?" she asks softly.
"Hm?" He barely glances up to her face before he continues his attention on her hair, only halfway through her mane.
"What are you doing?"
"Just, you know. Enjoying the recoil."
She tilts her head back to look up at him. "The what?"
"Hey! You moved," he says, scowling.
"Yeah, thanks for noticing," she retorts. "What are you doing?"
His defensive words get a bit jumbled up and a heat spreads across his cheeks. "I'm just, you know. Right? The recoil. The hair, your hair, and the curliness, and the... you know? The recoil."
She can't hide the big, loving smile on her face as she keeps looking up at his.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" he says, staring right back at her.
"You're very cute, Stiles."
"No." He practically glares at her. "No, I'm not. Absolutely not. Just, just put your head back the way it was and stop worrying about it, ok? Relax."
Stiles' girlfriend chuckles softly and does as he says, resting her eyes again and enjoying the gentle pull of his fingers. There's no point in teasing more than he can take.
Meanwhile, he can't contain the red heat which is traveling down his neck. Stiles doesn't understand and never will understand how she can make him react like this. Usually, he's easily able to keep a cold, sarcastic front, but not with her. Not with that smile. Not with those eyes. Not with her dreamy curls. And certainly not with her laying against him.
In the end, he's still smiling fondly, noticing her thumb that slipped underneath his shirt to brush across his waist. It's the little things that get to him most and drive him absolutely crazy for the love of his life.
"Do you like Teen Wolf? Get the fuck out of here then." -Mr. Dylan O'Brien
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