“I fell in love with you.” “No, you fell down the stairs. You should really learn to hold your liquor.”
drunken confessions, stiles stilinski.
notes: stiles won’t be in the movie because we’re too busy raising our three children, two dogs and one cat in the suburbs! also im not happy with this i haven’t been writing that good recently
inbox is very full so im replying to random reqs that inspire me!!
word count: 1.8k!!!! longer than i intended but oh well.
warnings: hints of smut towards the end but other than that i think we’re good!
A drunken giggle fell past lipstick stained lips as you stumbled into your dorm room; Stiles following close behind, strong hands holding onto the small of your waist to guide you into the room. “I’m serious, Stilinski! You’re a real catch.”
“Uh huh.” He let out a grunt, wincing as you flopped your body down onto your bed, curling into the sheets with a whimsical grin. “How’d you figure that one out?”
He sat on the edge of your bed, lifting your feet onto his lap so that he could undo the straps of your heels. You pouted, reaching up to grab his face with both of your hands, staring at him with lovesick eyes. He almost melted into your embrace on the spot, not being able to handle the pure adoration you were shooting his way. You were the girl he’d been in love with since he was 6 years old, he’d been planning your wedding in his brain since the first time you’d ever even waved at him. Here he was, a couple of inches away from your face, watching your eyes light up and your mouth stretch into one of the prettiest grins he’d ever seen you give.
He wished he could take a picture of this moment, partly to show all those assholes in high school that made fun of him any time you looked his way; but also, for himself; because he knew how you got when you were drunk, you were overly affectionate, to everyone. In a moment, he’d reluctantly drag your hands away from his face and you’d pass out on your bed in a full face of makeup and an uncomfortable dress. So, he wanted to soak it in, because he’d probably never get to be this close to you again.
“I mean,” you paused for a moment, a quiet hiccup sounding through the room before you took up speaking again. “You’re super sweet, when you’re not being a paranoid asshole with major trust issues— sorry, that was mean. You’re funny, and smart and you do this cute little thing with your nose when you’re concentrating that makes me want to slam my head in a door, in a good way; obviously.”
He allowed his eyebrows to raise, a flabbergasted hum leaving his rosy lips at your words. He only shook his head, believing that it was just the alcohol talking; because, there’s no way you could ever want to date him, right?
“And you’re super hot, but I mean. . . that goes without saying.” Your hands were still cupping his face, squeezing it every now and again, making his cheeks smush together and causing little giggles to exit your mouth. You cackled at the look of confusion he’d sent you, an annoyed eye roll being shot his way. “Oh, c’mon; Stilinski. You’re not blind, you’re an attractive guy! You got that hair, and those eyes; and that cute ass of yours.”
He emitted a loud yelp when you’d nudged your heel into his ass, as if to emphasise your point. A look of pure shock painted his face, and your laughs only increased in ferocity; leading to him joining you in your drunken giggles. “You know you’re hot.”
He let out another little hum, watching as your eyes drifted away from his, mind wandering to somewhere else. “And you’re always there for me when I need you. Like when I was dragged into all this supernatural bullshit because my best friend is a frickin’ banshee. You always looked out for me—“
He smiled softly, dark eyes meeting your hazy ones. “I’ll always have your back, you know that.”
“—and then I was finally realising how I felt, and you got possessed, which was terrifying. And then, we got you back, but we lost Alli, and I wasn’t ready to let anyone else get close to me. Then the whole dead pool thing didn't really give us much extra time for a declaration of my undying love. Then senior year was just-- I mean, Theo and everything else. . . and then you got erased from existence. Isn’t high school meant to be the best years of our lives?”
He was bewildered at your ramblings, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly eyes wide and eyebrows raised. No, you were just drunk; you didn’t even know what you were saying. He should just ignore it, get you to go to sleep and forget this ever happened. “God, I hope not.”
You let out a soft sigh, your thumbs running against his cheekbones gently. “Now we’re in college together; and you’re my best friend. I messed all this up, should’ve just kissed you at prom like I wanted to.”
“You wanted to kiss me at prom?”
You let out another giggle. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the end of sophomore year. Your little buzzcut was so cute, you were like a pale, flannel wearing teddy bear.”
“Right.” He sighed, your level of intoxication becoming clear again as he gently pulled your hands from his face. “Lets get you into bed, okay?”
He turned his back to find some of that makeup removed he’d seen you use. Was it a pink bottle? Or a blue one? Actually he was pretty sure it was gree—
“I fell in love with you.” You muttered from behind him. He scolded himself when he felt his heart flutter and his thoughts flitter from his head at your words. You didn’t feel like this, not really, it was simply the copious amount of alcohol in your system talking.
“No,” he replied, once he’d found the face wash hidden in your bedside table. “You fell down the stairs. You really should learn how to hold your liquor.”
He tapped at the fresh cut just below your knee, from when you’d missed a step halfway up the stairs to your dorm only a half an hour ago, and you’d tumbled down them, landing in a laughing heap on the ground. Your eyebrows knitted together, leaning over to inspect the cut. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that— Hey! Don’t change the subject, Stilinski.”
“I mean it; this isn't the alcohol talking. Maybe, I have some liquid courage but that’s it. I’ve felt like this since I was fifteen years old, Stiles. I’m in love with you.”
He paused for a moment, face wash coated cotton pad held in mid air as he observed your expression, it was desperate, and frustrated; but also fuelled with the utmost love and appreciation.
“I love you.” You repeated, voice softer this time.
He hesitated, wanting to utter the words back to you desperately, for a moment, your were sure he was going to, your eyes twinkling with hope as you stared up at him.
“I should take your makeup off.”
Your head was pounding as you opened your eyes, your hand coming up to cradle your forehead as you winced at the sunlight gleaming through the window. You kicked the body beside you, hard, prompting him to curse before turning off whatever video he was watching on his phone. “Morning sunshine, how do you feel?”
You turned to face him, eyes narrow and mouth dry. “Fantastic.”
He let out a breathy chuckle, but it was clear that something else had been weighing on his mind. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, a soft gaze being cast over you. “Do you remember anything from last night?”
“You mean, do I remember getting sick all over the side walk and then falling down a slight of stairs once you’d managed to get me into the building? Yes, trust me; I remember it all.”
You couldn’t ignore the look of disappointment on his face at your words as you clambered out of bed, walking to the bathroom; turning on the shower to let the water heat up, before applying toothpaste to your toothbrush and walking back out into your room. You scrubbed at your teeth as you walked around the room, picking up your clothes from last night and tossing them in the laundry basket, only now noticing you were wearing one of Stiles’ t-shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts. You looked over at him, trying to word your next words carefully. Your toothbrush hung out of your mouth, foamy lips opening as you walked into the bathroom to spit.
“I also remember declaring my undying love for you in a way that was exactly like that one scene in ‘definitely, maybe’ where Ryan Reynolds declares his undying love for Isla Fisher? Except, maybe it was a little less angsty than theirs— but anyway, that doesn’t even matter. What matters is that I love you. And not to sound too egotistical, but I’m pretty sure you might love me too.” You were back in your dorm at this point, standing right in front of your bed, where he was staring at you with wide eyes.
“You really do love me? Like actually?”
You nodded, a smile being hidden as you bit down on your lip. “Do you love me too?”
He rolled his eyes fondly, quickly fumbling out of bed in his usual clumsy manner and cupping your face in his hands. “Are you kidding me? You're talking to the guy who's been mapping out our perfect suburban life with three kids and a golden retriever since I was six years old. Of course I love you.”
His lips found yours in a soft kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he held you close to him, a quiet hum of approval leaving his mouth. It perfectly showcased all the love and affection you’d both been hiding for years, your hands knotting in his hair before you pulled away reluctantly.
“I have to go shower.” You whispered against his lips.
He nodded, a big dopey grin on his face. “I have to go call Scott, and my dad— and everyone from high school. I got the fucking girl.”
“You haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet, Stilinski.” You tutted falsely, standing in the doorway between your room and your bathroom.
“I think you’ve been my girlfriend for a long time, baby. I just think that we’re only catching on now.” He muttered. “But, nonetheless; my dad raised me right, so; will you be my girlfriend Ms. Y/L/N?”
“It’d be my honour, Mr. Stilinski.” You grinned. “Now, go call whoever you need to call. I’ll be in the shower if you want me.”
He paused, throwing his phone down on the bed as you pulled your shirt over your head; and he swallowed thickly. “You know what? I think my gloating can wait a couple hours.”
“A couple hours? You think you got that kind of stamina, Stilinski?” You teased, pulling your shorts down your legs and stepping into the shower.
“Guess we better find out.”
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