#dad!imagine

“I can’t do this, (Y/N),” Stiles sighed, leaning against the Jeep he had claimed as his own once again, “After Quantico-“

“After Quantico what, Stiles?” You breathed, your hands shaking as you held them by your side, trying not to lose it over this moment.

“I- I met someone, (Y/N),” Stiles sighed.

“Of course you did,” You breathed, running your fingers through your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. You were unsuccessful. “I waited for you,” You spoke, “I waited two years, Stiles. Two fucking years. Through your training at Quantico, through your bouncing around for work, for it all. I stayed loyal. Loyal, Stiles. Then you come back, acting like everything is fine between us - really fine, Stiles - and then you drop this bomb on me right before you leave? Are you kidding me?”

“You need to calm down,” Stiles spoke, “I-“

“Oh, I need to calm down?” You asked, “I need to leave.”

“(Y/N), wait-“

You were already heading across the parking lot by the time he said this, uncaring of whatever he had to say. You didn’t want to hear it. Stiles had been disloyal, cheating on you when you had waited for him. As you approached your car, your heart beating furiously in your chest, your hands shaking from the adrenaline, you fumbled with your keys until you were successful in prying the door open and ready to drive off. You barely had time to look back at Stiles before you sped off, driving down the road without a care of a destination. You just needed to hide.

When you were sure you had lost him, you pulled over into a gas station parking lot before completely breaking down. You skipped any beginning stages of the cry and entered the complete-hyperventilation-and-sob stage, your entire body shaking as you screamed. Your heart felt like it was simultaneously racing and breaking, the pain so immense you weren’t sure how to get through it.

Things only got worse from there.

First, you were constantly distracted. It wasn’t even that you were thinking about Stiles, but your mind could barely stay on task for more than 20 minutes before you were off thinking about something else.

Second, you felt horrible. Could you get sick from sadness? At this point, it felt completely possible, and you wanted to get over it. You and Stiles had been together for four years, meaning it would take you at least two to get over him, based on some internet logic. Would you feel like this forever?

And then, the truth was revealed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” You whispered, sitting on the cold floor of your apartment bathroom. After everything that had happened, you still couldn’t escape him. Your hands shook as you stared at the item in your hands. You thought you had gotten rid of every remnant of Stiles from your life, but unfortunately, that was not the case. There was one thing you couldn’t get rid of, not now at least.

“Are you okay in there?” Lydia asked, knocking lightly on the door. You looked up, beginning to panic. You wrapped the item up in toilet paper frantically, throwing it into the trash and burying it under feminine products. Once done, you headed for the door.

“Hm?” You asked, looking at Lydia. She could tell something was off, but you didn't know if you were ready to tell her anything yet.

“(Y/N), I can tell something’s wrong,” Lydia sighed, “You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know," You shrugged, “But I’m fine.”

Lydia took a deep breath before continuing. “Fine.” She turned around, heading back into the living room of your shared apartment, leaving you alone to contemplate.

“Lydia?” You asked.

“Yeah?” She replied, sitting on the couch, her homework laid across her lap.

“I’m pregnant.”

From that moment, your life completely changed. You went from an average college student to a college student with a secret, to a college dropout, to a mom. You were so happy to have your friends as a support system, all of them pitching in to help you. They didn’t need to know that this was Stiles’s kid, but they all knew deep down. You were loyal to him through and through, even after your relationship rockily ended. There was no rebound, no “getting back out there,” just Stiles and yet another Stilinski.

When your son was born, the first thing you noticed were his bright eyes. They were the exact color of his father’s, a chocolate brown that reminded you of autumn, and of every time Stiles professed his love for you.

As he grew older, you realized how much he had his nose. It curved the same, leading to a tip that was rounded and pointy all at the same time. As his hair grew out, it reminded you of him, bringing up memories of your childhood and the bond you two had.

Publicly, Ryan was Ryan (Y/L/N). He was a boy born from a mistake and turned into a blessing. He was a boy filled with love and care for everything and everyone. He was a boy with a heart of gold, excited eyes, and a mind that was constantly begging for more information. He was a boy with the brain of a future genius, a boy who would likely revolutionize the world with his inventions and creations.

Privately, Ryan was undoubtedly a Stilinski. He was hyperactive, unable to sit still because his brain was moving quick and his body felt the need to compensate. He had a love for law enforcement, constantly playing cops and robbers and begging to go to the farewell ceremony for the now retired sheriff he had no idea was his grandfather. But most of all, he was dedicated, not only to any work he put in but to the people he cared about. Nobody spoke a word about his lineage, but everyone knew - Ryan was the son of Stiles Stilinski and there was nobody who could disprove it.

“How was school today, bud?” You asked, your hand wrapping around your son’s small fingers as the two of you walked towards your small silver sedan.

“It was fun,” He smiled, “Remember how this week is job week?”

“Of course, Ry.” You scooped him up and helped him into his carseat before closing the door, climbing into the seat directly in front of him and turning the car on.

“Today we got to meet the deputies at the sheriff’s station!” Ryan exclaimed, the excitement on his face reminding you of the face you used to play pretend with as a kid. You remembered career week when you were in Kindergarten, meeting police officers and nurses as well as many others in the community who wanted to inspire children.

“That’s awesome, Ryan!” You exclaimed, “Did you tell them about how you wanna be a deputy?”

“Of course,” Ryan spoke, “Are we going to the store today mom?”

“Yep," You nodded, “It’s our Friday routine, right bud?”

“Yes!” Ryan smiled, jumping in his seat.

When you arrived at the store, Ryan was already acting up. He tried hard to be good in classroom settings, but the second he was released, his body was practically bouncing off the walls. He couldn’t contain himself in the cart, almost screaming to be released.

“Do you promise to be good?” You asked, “And stay close to mom?”

“Yes,” Ryan nodded, “Can I get out now?”

You pulled him out of the cart, placing him down on the ground so he could move around freely.

“Do you wanna go grab me the apples?” You asked him, pointing down the aisle to keep him busy.

“Absolutely!” Ryan exclaimed, running down the aisle to grab the little plastic bag. You kept an eye on him out of the corner of your eye while you picked out some other fruits. Only to find Ryan running around the corner.

“Ryan!” You warned, following quickly after him. You heard his giggles suddenly stop, the terror in your mind thinking of every worst-case scenario.

But none prepared you for the truth.

“Careful, little guy!” The man exclaimed, a smile breaking out across his face that should’ve been relieving. Ryan stared up at him, looking at the badge he wore around his neck that shimmered in the light. He was dressed in a suit, something you hadn’t seen him in much before, with a stubbly beard that reminded you of all the times he complained about not being able to grow more than some peach fuzz.

“Are you a police officer?” Ryan asked, staring up at the man he didn’t know.

“Close,” He smiled, “I work for the FBI.”

“Ryan,” You spoke, your heart leaping into your throat, “What did I say about running around the store?” In that moment, both Ryan and the man looked at you with the same startled eyes. They both heard the fear in your voice, likely assuming it was from almost losing Ryan. You locked eyes with the man you couldn’t deny you recognized, the feelings from long ago pushing their way up.

“(Y/N),” Stiles breathed, “It’s- it’s been a while.” He was unable to keep his eyes off you, and you immediately felt self conscious in your plain jeans and a tee that you wore to class this morning, at work this afternoon, and now.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “I see- I see you’re still at the whole, y’know, FBI thing.” Your heart was beating so fast you couldn’t tell if it was even beating at all.

“What’ve you been up to?” Stiles asked, watching as Ryan walked back over to you, bag of apples still in his hand. Ryan clung to your leg, realizing you were scared and trying to comfort you. You ran your fingers through his messy hair.

“Oh, y’know,” You nodded, “Classes.”

“Do you teach?” Stiles asked.

“Oh, no,” You shook your head, “I’m taking classes at the community college in Beacon Falls.” You tried to swallow, but your mouth was too dry. “I work as a nanny.”

“Is- Is he one of the kids you nanny?” Stiles asked.

“Mom, do you know him?” Ryan asked, almost on command. You looked back up at Stiles, the surprised look on his face not something you expected.

It was only a matter of time before he knew.

“No,” You shook your head, “This- this is my son, Ryan.”

“Hi,” Ryan smiled, waving.

“How old are you, Ryan?” Stiles asked.

Ryan looked up at you for approval, and after you gave him the nod he continued. “I’m five.”

Stiles looked up at you too, but you realized his eyes were trained on your hand, looking frantically for a ring.

“We- we should catch up,” You spoke, “I- I can call you, or something.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “Let’s do that.”

“You’re meeting with him?” Lydia asked, standing across from you in your small apartment’s kitchen. Ryan was watching some kind of cartoon on the television while you had your girl time.

“Yeah,” You breathed, “I mean, he’s probably curious-“

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“I dunno yet,” You shook your head, “I haven’t decided yet.”

“He’s gonna figure it out.”

“He might not.”

“(Y/N), he works for the FBI. He is literally a detective for a living.”

“I get it, I get it,” You complained, “I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“When are you seeing him?” Lydia asked.

“Tomorrow afternoon,” You breathed, “We’re meeting at that little diner in Beacon Valley.” Lydia knew it as the place where you and Stiles would go on dates, but you knew it as the place where Stiles gave you a promise ring during your senior year. Secretly, you still had the ring in your underwear drawer.

“Good luck,” Lydia mumbled, taking a sip of her tea as you stared off at the window.

You sat in the booth, staring at the coffee you ordered but felt too sick to drink. Stiles was meeting you in two minutes, and you still weren’t sure what you were going to say. You two had left things so rocky, and after five years without him you were convinced he would never come back into your life.

The door opened, and your eyes immediately flicked up. Stiles spotted you in a second, walking over with purpose before sliding into the booth across from you. He was wearing a collared white button down, with black pants that made you think of prom night several years ago.

“I wanna start by saying this,” Stiles breathed, “I’m so incredibly sorry for how I ended things.”

“I don’t wanna talk about that,” You interrupted, “I’ve had a lot of time to get over it.”

Stiles nodded, realizing now that he had no conversation starters other than the one you wanted to avoid. “So… A son, huh?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“How’d that happen?” Stiles asked, “I thought you were the kind of person who was gonna wait to have kids until you were in your thirties? Did someone change your mind?”

“I guess you could say that,” You spoke, “Ryan was the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Stiles nodded. “So does your husband work around here?”

“I’m not married,” You corrected, holding up your hand.

Stiles nodded again. “I get it, I get it.” He looked down at the coffee as the waitress poured, and then looked back up at you when she left. You could tell he was still thinking about Ryan, likely thinking about their identical eyes and making calculations in his head. The timing was perfect. Ryan would’ve been conceived the week he came back, before he left you for the girl he would only date for another two months before breaking up with her because he couldn’t stop thinking of you.

“I know what you’re thinking,” You interrupted. Stiles looked scared, but not nearly as scared as you. “I know you work for the FBI, and I know you’re not stupid. You pay attention to details.”

“What are you saying?” He asked, his eyes filled with terror.

“I know you know,” You sighed, “And you’re right.”

There was a silence between the two of you, the only noise coming from the other patrons. Stiles closed his mouth, looking down at the table. It was a lot for a man, suddenly finding out you were a parent, an d it was a lot to see the love of your life after close to six years. He needed more time to process, but he knew he didn’t have that. You had had almost seven months to prepare, both physically and mentally, while he had 30 seconds.

“I know I should’ve called,” You breathed, “I should’ve told you the second it happened, but I was angry, and you were gone, and-“

“It’s fine,” Stiles interrupted. Still looking down at the table. “I just… I can’t believe I- I’m- I’m a dad.” He ran his fingers through his hair before scratching his beard. “I’m a dad,” He whispered.

“I- I don’t know what this means for us,” You rambled, “But Ryan doesn’t know, and if he’s gonna find out, I’m gonna be the one to tell him. I've always felt that way, from the second I knew he existed. He’s my kid, and that means he’ll learn on my terms.”

“I understand that,” Stiles spoke, “I completely understand that.” He looked up at you again, his heart feeling similar to the way it did back in eighth grade when he realized he was in love with you, a girl he thought he would never be privileged enough to call his girlfriend. “I wanna know everything.”

“Everything?” You asked.

“Everything,” Stiles asked, “I wanna know all about him. His interests, his struggles, his successes, his life - I wanna know it all.”

You nodded. “Starting when?”

“Starting the moment you found out he existed,” Stiles breathed, “I missed so much - too much - of his life.”

“I can tell you whatever you wanna know,” You said, “But I’ve gotta pick him up from school in 3 hours.”

You began by telling him everything, from how Lydia went to all your doctor’s appointments, to the terrifying birth that had your life and Ryan’s on the line, to Ryan’s quiet demeanor as an infant, to his terribly destructive attitude as a toddler, to the sweet and delicate boy he had become. You showed him so many pictures - so many pictures - of birthdays, holidays, and special occasions. Eventually, it came time for you to go, and Stiles tagged along for pick up.

“Mom!” Ryan exclaimed, running towards you before embracing you in a loving hug.

“Hi kiddo,” You smiled, “You have a good day?”

“A great day!” He replied, “What’s Mr. FBI man doing here?”

“He and mommy went out for lunch,” You explained.

“Like a date?” Ryan asked.

“No," You laughed, “Not like a date.”

Stiles slowly became more and more of a presence in Ryan’s life. He came over frequently, joining in on Friday Night Dinners with all of your friends and eventually telling Ryan all of the G-Rated versions of his FBI experiences. Ryan idolized Stiles, putting him on a pedestal you never believed would exist.

Soon, Stiles agreed to help you during finals week by babysitting Ryan. You had tests all day, and by the time you came home, you found Stiles and Ryan passed out on the couch, the two of them sleeping with their mouths slightly open, their chests rising and falling in sync.

Later, Stiles began spending more time with you one-on-one. He helped you move, he came over to help you study, and soon, he was coming over to watch your favorite late-night comedy shows after Ryan had gone to bed.

One night, as the two of you sat on your couch in the living room, you looked at Stiles and saw him differently. You weren’t sure if it was the wine he brought over, the really good episode, or the fact that it had been almost seven years since you went on a date, but Stiles was no longer the guy who just realized he was the father of your child, but rather the guy you wanted to settle down with, the guy you wanted to spend your life with, the guy who was supposed to be the father of your children.

You put the wine down, the noise of the TV quieting as the episode ended.

“Can I ask you something?” Stiles asked, looking at you with eyes you recognized as you nodded, “Do you think it’s time we try this again?”

“Try what again?” You asked, “Us?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah.”

You were quiet. “Yeah.”

Stiles moved closer to you, closing the gap of space between your bodies before your eyes met. The energy between you two was almost magnetic, the knowledge of what could happen pulling you in closer.

The second Stiles placed his lips on yours, you knew. You knew, as you hungrily kissed his lips, as his hands traveled to their familiar and favorite places on your hips and cheek, as your arms wrapped around the back of his neck loosely and your hips pressed firmly up against his lower abdomen, you knew.

“You’ve got 10 minutes,” Lydia spoke, walking into your bedroom, “You ready?”

You turned to look at her, a terrified yet excited look spread across your face. “More than ready.” You admired your look in the mirror, thankful for the months of planning you took just for this, before looking back at your best friend, her lavender dress complimenting her strawberry-blonde curls. “You look amazing.”

“Hopefully not too amazing,” She replied, “I can’t upstage you.”

You smiled, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. She had been through so much with you, from high school drama to college study nights to your pregnancy to your graduation and, finally, to this.

“Is Ryan ready?" You asked.

“He’s waiting downstairs for you, just as planned.”

You smiled. “Let’s do this.”

You walked carefully down the stairs, Lydia close behind, before heading through the venue towards the back door, where you would be meeting with Ryan. Lydia gave you one last hug before heading off to her own entrance, standing with the other girls and guys who had been through so much with you. Among them was Scott, someone who had been waiting for this moment since freshman year of high school, excited and trying to prepare for the rest of the night.

“Ready mom?” Ryan asked, his normally messy hair combed back professionally. He had grown so much in the past few years, but he remained your little boy in your heart.

“Definitely,” You smiled.

“Good,” Ryan nodded, listening as the music started, “Because I talked to dad earlier and he was throwing up with nerves. I can’t deal with both of you.” You smiled, kissing him lightly on the forehead, careful not to leave any remaining lipstick. Once Stiles was through the doors, you headed towards the door with Ryan, watching as each pair walked out before you. Eventually, it was just you, Ryan, Lydia, and Scott, and then you and your baby.

“I love you, mom,” Ryan smiled, holding his arm out for you. As the doors were pulled open, the two of you took a breath before stepping out, all eyes trained on you carefully, inspecting every single choice and part of your look. You couldn’t care less, though, because the second you saw Stiles standing down the aisle, you knew it was all worth it.

You knew.

Ryan guided you down to the bottom of the stairs before Stiles walked up, grabbing you hand with shaking hands. His eyes said one thing: “I love you.”

From this point forward, you could barely remember the ceremony. You knew you promised forever, and you knew everyone was watching you carefully, but the only thing you could focus on was him. It was everything that led up to this moment, from your high school romance to Ryan to your budding adult relationship to Stiles’s messy attempt at a proposal (that, frankly, was much better than what he intended), that molded what the rest of your life would be. This was the beginning of forever, something you never expected to have but something you knew you couldn’t live without.

“I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Stiles Stilinski.”

Stiles took a step forward, placing one hand on your back while the other grabbed your cheek, a much more appropriate version of what he always did. As his lips pressed to yours, the cool metal of the ring on your cheek, you knew. As your stomach flipped with excitement, nerves, and a change in your body that only you could detect, you knew.