Cute Story Stuff

Scott

Scott would simultaneously be an angel as well as a helpless, floppy puppy. Like, you’re sick in bed and he’s sort of just anxiously hovering, hoping and waiting and watching for when you need something. He’s on the verge of making himself faint until you lift the covers and invite him in for cuddles.

He’s more than happy to comply: he’ll give you a few kisses, he doesn’t care how snotty you are or how gross you feel. He doesn’t even care if he gets sick (he won’t, I hc werewolves run extremely warm internal temps: handy if you run cold and want snuggles!), he just wants to be close and make you feel good.

Stiles

Stiles would situate you on the couch, fluffed pillows and juice in easy reach, the Mandolorian playing—he’d been trying to get you to watch it for aaaages, and the minute you were prone and helpless? BAM he got that baby playing.

But he’d be researching your each and every symptom, to the point where you’d be asking him very nerdy Star Wars questions just to get him to pay attention to you, and he’d be too absorbed in WebMD to expound into extremely complicated minutia about the SW universe.

It isn’t until you slowly, slowly, slowly close the lid of his laptop (he only pulled back his fingers at the very last second), and hit him with the biggest, slightly watery puppy dog eyes that he paused.

Cue Stiles rubbing your feet and excitedly explaining the Mandolorian scene. for. scene. You fell asleep at some point, but he understood it was just because you were sick. When you woke up, you saw him awkwardly situated on the couch, jaw agape and deeply asleep. He’d simply refused to move on the slightest chance any movement woke you up. He wasn’t all that upset when you woke up him, though, and guided him back down with you to cuddle. He’d be sneezing a few days later, but he’d just laugh and tell you it was SO worth it.

Derek

Derek is the errands guy: you need juice? Chicken soup? Heated blankets? Bath salts? How about some flowers, you want some pretty flowers on your nightstand? He’d be just about to head out again when you tugged at his sleeve. “I want YOU.” You’d explain stuffily.

He’d blush, but a soft little smile would light up the mouth of that chiseled face of perfection.

He’d kiss the top of your head, but then pick you up easily.

“You need some sunshine.” He’d say simply, and get you comfortably situated on a lawn chair. He’d sit on one facing your, the two of your legs comfortably entangling in each other.

Derek always has to be doing something, he can’t simply just SIT. So he’d pull out some cards, or checkers, balancing the board between you on his knees. Of course, being sick is no excuse for him to go easy on you: though he might have let you win a few hands when strip poker came up…not that you were complaining.

Isaac

Isaac takes a page from Scott’s book, and becomes an adorable, anxious puppy, but unlike Scott Isaac actually knows exactly what to do. Growing up, he took care of himself when he got sick. He’d have the couch completely tricked out: fresh sheets on the cushions, half a dozen pillows and your favorite blankets, saltines and ginger ale and jello on a nice little tray, your favorite movie loaded up…

You certainly didn’t LOOK sick when you gave him a brilliant smile.

You preferred him to the pillows, resting your head on his stomach. When you grew a little restless after a few hours, he noticed.

So instead of watching movies, he took up one his favorite books—one he always kept in his back pocket, Lord of the Rings. He slowly began the prologue, his voice rising and lowering in rhythm with the text. He’d run his fingers through your hair, gently soothing you until you felt calm, still, and grew sleepy. You barely felt the kiss on the top of your head as you were falling asleep, but you heard him reading even in your dreams.

Lydia

Lydia would know you were sick before you did: she suggested you start taking it a little easier, she’d subtly be passing a bottle of juice to you during History class, just oh-so-conveniently be making some chicken soup that evening. When you started to pick up on her little habits, you might question her—of course you’d just get that cute, dimpling little smirk, and then she’d distract you with some discourse over the latest Bachelor episodes.

Lydia would totally have gotten you over your cold before you even realized you had one: she’s a badass like that.

Of course, if you realize it after and confront her with it straight out, she’d admit you’d been looking under the weather.

It was lovely, having a girlfriend who noticed your littlest habits and things, so much to the point that she’d recognize it. All she’d ask for was a kiss…or two…or three. Now that you’re better, there’s nothing stopping you—right?

Allison

Allison is a firm believer of the ‘sweat it out’ method: you get a little sniffle, and she’s getting your running shoes out. Or it’s weights, maybe a swim if it’s summer.

She’d push you a little—Allison can be a liiiittle intense, and lives life like it. That might work: she’d be making sure you always had your favorite flavor of gatorade, your running socks are always clean, your sheets are always fresh because you’ve been sweating in your sleep.

If that doesn’t work, she will make sure you have the fluffiest pillows, your blankets are always freshly warm from the dryer, fridge stocked with juice. She’d be a little worried…a lot worried. Even if you’re taking a gentler approach to recovery, she’ll continue working out a little more vigorously than usual.

Not that that would mean she wasn’t taking excellent, excellent care of you. And she wouldn’t let something like a little bug come between cuddles and kisses. She could care less a she gently presses her lips to your forehead to check your temperature—and she’d smile as you guided her lower, to your mouth.

Malia

Malia is surprisingly calm (or so you think) about you being sick—though to be fair, you could do with a few less “in the wild” comments....

“In the wild, you’d probably be left for dead. Not by me, though. I wouldn’t eat you, either.”

You’d smile back weakly, and pat her hand.

“That’s nice, dear.”

Malia would smirk at you, maybe wink, and kiss your forehead before getting up to get you some more juice or crackers or whatever your little heart desires.

She’d keep an eye on you, and you’d be totally thinking she’s relaxed until someone else walks in the room....

A/N: This just popped into my head and feels bumbling, but I was sleep deprived and just wanted to get it out.

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: None that I know of. Mild swearing? It’s really just fluffy.

Word count: 1,483

Shenanigans. That’s the only word that describes it - shenanigans.

Xxx

The loft was eerily silent as you made your way across the slippery floors of death.

Snorting softly to yourself at the narration inside your head, you shook your head gently to quiet the voice before you trudged onward toward the kitchen in search of something chocolate. Or possibly fruity. Maybe even salty. You hadn’t decided yet. You groaned internally and rolled your eyes at yourself with a slight smirk knowing as soon as you opened the fridge, the indecisiveness would increase tenfold. It was just one of those nights.

Sitting on the floor in front of the icy giant, you glared at the hum it emitted as it kicked into gear to keep the contents cool against the harsh temperature of the loft, or at least it seemed that dramatic because of the violence in which it came on with a clunk.

Derek Hale. He’s basically the literal incarnation of the aesthetic of the leather jacket, with the expression of a brick. Right? 

Wrong. 

Derek is selfless, he’s protective, he’s a little emotionally stunted but he’s also just the purest, sweetest Teddy Bear when he finally finds someone he feels safe to open up with. 

Spoiler? That’s you.

Derek first saw you when Stiles, Scott, and you went into the woods looking for an inhaler. 

Love at first sight?

Ah, no. 

Derek’s heart is locked up with a steel vault, four labyrinths, and a moat of fire. He’s lost people, he’s seen the brutal, ruthless ways of living that come with the life of being in a werewolf pack from birth. He is not going to just heart-eyes you immediately. 

No, that came later when he saw you nerding out over the bestiary. When saw you poring over it, marking notes with a highlighter cap in your mouth at 2am?

“You know, I have more books like that…”

And thus the start of Derek getting to know the one and perfect you.

From there, once Derek felt emotionally safe with you, he was head over heels. He’s an all-or-nothing kind of guy. When he talked to you he felt heard, he felt like he could actually bear to share his burdens with you. He felt like he could open up, and thus you saw the Teddy Bear stuffing beneath the ripped abs Adonis only wished he had.

It wasn’t long after that that dating started. Scott and Stiles were a wee bit dumbstruck jealous, and let me tell you—

This guy’s not just an animal in bed (sorry not sorry), he’s a CUDDLER. Derek is all about physical affection: gentle hand holds, fingers lingering as he plays with the soft hairs on the back of your neck. And don’t try to tell me there’s no dancing in the kitchen in the middle of the night followed by a vry sexy pillowfight / give me a Derek pillowfight, I’m begging you

One of the best parts of dating Derek, unexpectedly, was seeing the fear widen eyes of the ever-perpetual bad guy.

“W-wait, Y/N? Derek’s Y/N?”

“….sure?”

“I have to go right now, immediately.”

Derek might make you pancakes at four in the morning with this grin sweet as the syrup, but that only makes him all the more terrifyingly protective.

And voila, I gift you with the sexiest gif to date since ever.

Stiles Stilinksi was first and foremost a detective. A scientist, at heart, who could analyze a situation and decipher the motivations, predict ever possible outcome, who could find the pattern in the clues when everyone else just saw a chaotic jumble of red yarn. 

So the fact that he didn’t pick up on his own feelings was more than a little ironic

Your friendship/early dating days would consist of debating every topic: be it cereal proportions or whether something’s a shapeshifter or goblin or weirdly-misshapen hamster.

Going for rides with him in his jeep late at night, having conversations that range from goofy and silly,

“Do you think there are were-alligators?”

“What?”

“If there are werewolves, why not other animals? We’ve seen werejaguars. Where’s my were-hedgehog?”

“Derek’s prickly enough to count for that.”

And slipping into boldly honest, vulnerable and open with each other as Stiles never could with anyone else.

When Stiles said he loved you, it was totally something that just unconsciously came out. He didn’t even know he’s said it until he saw you staring, and staring, and staring—

“What, what did I do?”

“You said you loved me.”

“Oh. Well, yeah.”

Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world; because who WOULDN’T love you? 

Because it IS the most obvious thing in the world to him. TBH, he’s probs been in love with you ever since you responded to his sarcasm with either a laugh or sarcasm of your own. 

There’s definitely been more than once incident of him bursting out laughing during sex cuz he remembered something funny, stopped everything, just too tell you the joke.

Cute mannerisms would be become a must. The idea of ‘his’ and ‘your’ plates became a nonexistent things (except for curly fries, all bets are off for those suckers). Stiles would definitely BOOP you on the nose, often without reason or even comment. 

Okey-doke, so we got the one, the only, the mega puppy-werewolf

Lets say you met around first grade. Nothing too special, Scott was aware of you and you guys had some nice interactions, but it wasn’t exactly like you guys were even really friends. 

No. 

You guys REALLY became friends when you woke up to screaming in your backyard to find a muscley, naked McCall in your backyard. This was during the REALLy early stages of werewolfdom, when Scott was waking up in the middle of the woods with no idea of how he’s got there and no idea that he was the living embodiment of hella-cool myth.

You drove him home, and he was stunned by how freaking aDORABle you’d gotten. 

“Are you gonna get out?” You asked with a slight smile as he tried to find the words to thank you. He nodded, and before he could lose his nerve he blurted—

“Why did we lose contact?”

You shrugged. Smiled, and the poor boy just felt his core shoot into fireworks. 

So you two started hanging out. It was a tad bit confusing when you two started to get to know each other, and he started pushing you away (secret lives of werewolves, protective sweethearts, and dumbass teenage boys, whatayagonnado), but you figured it out quick enough and Stiles and Scott were honestly both RELIEVED to have you part of the secret.

So friendship things happened awhile, Allison and Scott became FRIENDS (he only got eyes for you, boo), but eventually lingering looks were passed, high-stress situations led to clutching hand grabs.

But declarations of loooOOove only happened because of our genius-idiot detective.

Stiles was the one who let it out of the bag, dragging you off to the side one day and demanding outright to know your intentions. At first, you had no clue what he was talking about.

But SCOTT?

Pink face, quickened breathing, stifled giggles. You could barely get the words out, confirming your feelings for the brown-eyed, crooked-jaw, sunshine puppy. 

But it was enough for Stiles—and Scott, who’d been shamelessly eavesdropping from around the corner.

This boy is shook.

And the dating life, so thus begins.

Clinging to him on the back of his motorbike, tighter when he goes faster and takes those hairpin turns (he totally goes faster just so you’ll grip him tighter)

“Hi there, Mr./Mrs. McCall.”

He’s totally gonna carry books between classes, kiss the top of your head, all those sweet boyfriend things. 

And don’t think he’s not gonna lose every button on his shirt when his chest puffs up as he sees you walk in to class wearing HIS sweatshirt, HIS scent in your hair scent is v important for dog boys okay?

But Scott, even if he’s not totally aware of it, iS HOT OKAY. And maybe it’s because he’s not even totally aware of it that makes him even hotter, right?

So make out sessions with this guy? He’s a tease. Nose skimming the area between your neck and shoulder, breath skimming in tickles across your eyelids. Sex? This guy has absss for dayzzz, and he’s a pleaser. You’re not gonna be able to walk OR stop smiling.

Also your probs gonna get choc and flowers from him not just on every date, but like all the time. Just because. This boy has a job, okay, and he’s not afraid to use it to spoil the hell out of you, because you deserve it 

You’d frequently look up, or across the room just to find him already looking at you. Sometimes you might wink just to see him blush, sometimes he might just break out in a grin. 

Or most of the time, you’d see the words on his lips and feel a thrill run up your spine like it always would, no matter how many times he said it—

Ngl, I have a hc that Isaac is low key a total nerd: NEEds to read, draws, and for some reason I get the feeling he like kills at every board game set in front of him. Competitive? Especially if Stiles is playing.

So you can bet that half his notebooks are covered in doodles of you the other half is attaching his last name to yours and vice versa

He likes to say he’s never seen Star Wars just to piss off stiles (he could name every character and their mother)

The scarf. The scarf started out as actually a protective kind of security blanket from his dad, helping to cover up suspicious marks and just made him feel safe.So he’s not gonna just hand one of those bad boys over to just anybody. 

No. You’ve gotta earn that privilege. But once you do? It means he feels safe with you, that you’re his home and honestly that’s the highest honor he could bestow. 

But then he loves it when you borrow one and he gets it back and it smells like you, it’s like the bf hoodie thing except fashionable.

Imagine him looping scarves around the back of your neck to pull you into a sweeping romantic kiss—that is, if he could stop smiling so big. 

Things got serious, but they slipped into it so naturally that Isaac didn’t realize how deep in it he was until Scott pulled him aside and said the L-Word

Isaac was a little dumbfounded, but then this big stupid grin spread on his face as he watched you walking out of a classroom, and he realized it. And for once it wasn’t something scary– because before the only people who ever said that word to Isaac was his dad; and he only used it for justification to locking him in a refrigerator. 

So, the scarf boy, eh?

At first, your relationship with Isaac was tense, to say the least.

On the night you went with Stiles and Derek to break him out of the holding cell, Isaac would have killed you if Derek hadn’t alpha-d out (not that it’s really his fault). But you held a grudge (understandably).

And then he tried to kill Lydia with the rest of his pack. (not understandably)

So yeah, you weren’t his biggest fan.

“I could roast a marshmallow off the sizzling heat between you two.” “He tried to kill you, Lydia.” “Don’t try to change the subject.”

It wasn’t until the Alpha pack got into town and you were in serious danger that Isaac realized you were his anchor (Derek totally called it, Stiles owed him $)

From there it was a short jump to realizing how he felt about you. He was cool with it quick, why wouldn’t anyone be in love with you?

Then it was just a matter of wooing. ;) Hello black, leather jacket and panty-dropper smirk. But he’s also old fashioned, with things like notes, opening doors for you, carrying your books, and the occasional bribe of chocolate.

Hope you like that smirk, because it WILL be the death of you.

But in the end it was a little bit of jealousy that really got you moving. 

Isaac and Allison had grown closer: everyone else could see it for what it was, a serious friendship. You, however, really didn’t understand at first why Allison felt like she’d betrayed you. Because you couldn’t REALLY like Isaac, right?

In the battle with the nogitsune after he took Lydia (in which Allison does NOT DIE bc this is fanfiction and I can fix all those boo-boos, boo), Allison was INJURED. Severely. The shock of seeing your indestructible friend fall like that was all the prompting you needed. 

Sitting in the itchy hospital seats nursing twin, bitter cups of coffee, you and Isaac had refused to move from the waiting room until she was out of surgery. 

“Isaac?”

Your voice was a croak, and your jaw felt rusty. He nudged you with his elbow to let you know he was listening. You glanced over, taking in his hollow eyes and slumped, exhausted posture. Maybe now wasn’t the right time. Or, maybe it was, because the Nogitsune could come in those doors at any minute and—

in the end, you couldn’t find the words. You were silent for so long that he looked up—and was startled by the feel of your fingers interlacing with his on the armrest. He went completely still, supernaturally so, when you settled your head on his shoulder. He told himself it didn’t mean anything—life threatening situation, friend in critical condition. You just needed comfort. 

A week after Allison was discharged from the hospital and taken to France to recuperate from a supernatural wound, when Stiles was no longer possessed, the air began to clear and people began to breathe. 

Isaac, bless him, was back to his old tricks. Smirking, he leaned beside your locker with his arms crossed over his chest. 

You sighed, shaking your head at him with a smile.

“You’re never going to give up, are you?”

“It’s only a matter of time.”

Oh, boy, did he have no clue. 

“Isaac, can you hand me my book—there, on the top shelf?”

He reached over your head, oblivious to your thundering heart until he looked down. And saw you looking up—a hair’s breadth from each other, so close you could feel the heat off each others’ skins. And to Isaac’s surprise, you didn’t step back. His eyes searched your’s—for all his sweet swagger, Isaac was actually stupefied by the idea that you might ACTUALLY like him BACK. 

He stared at you for so long, arm still extended up to the forgotten textbook, that a corner of your mouth twitched nervously in a smile. He swallowed, and leaned down to your ear. His breath was warm, curling in the shell of your ear as he whispered,

“Can I kiss you?”

That tiny dip of your chin had barely begun to swing through the air before Isaac’s mouth, soft and slightly parted with a gasp held beneath his tongue, slid over your’s, his palm spanning the width of your neck as he cradled your head up to his. 

Alright cuddling with Scott, lemme tell you, is an EXPERIENCE.

This boy is so affectionate in like, the sweetest of ways. Whether it be a lingering glance down the school hallway, drawing circles into the small of your back when you sit side by side, draping his arm across your shoulders in a dark movie theatre (TOTALLY with the exaggerated yawn)

But when you sit down and get to BUSINESS: Cuddling is. a. serious. event. 

Scott would skim his mouth across your jawline, saying some dumb joke that would somehow make you laugh. Scott’s face turns to pure SUNSHINE when you laugh because you are honestly the most beautiful, indescribable thing in the entire world when you throw your head back and giggle at something HE said. 

Scott carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. And while normally he can bear the load just fine, he also sometimes just wants to BE. And breathing in your scent as you talk softly, tracing the curve of his shoulder through his cotton t-shirt, he’d glance down and just be stunned that the most amazing thing in the world for some reason thought he was just as amazing and honestly you, a miracle + Scott the wolf puppy = dream. come. true.

Snuggling up with Stilinski would no doubt be over yet ANOTHER Star Wars Marathon LIKE WE’RE COMPLAINING. 

It would start off casual enough, his arm draped around your shoulders as he pulls you in against him. It would gradually become less about the movie and more about YOU though, as he kept getting distracted by your scent, the way you mouthed the words along to every scene SORRY YOU’RE GONNA HAVE STAR WARS MEMORIZED IF YOU’RE DATING THIS GUY, your general YOUness.

It would probably turn into a make out session. Until one of you fell off the couch, and the other collapsed in laughter. 

Then it would be more about the gentle intimacy of holding each other.

Stiles had definitely tried to count every freckle on your face. Or eyelashes. Whatever, he just loves to stare at your beautiful face and he needs the excuse. It also tends to make you laugh when he gets like 98 and “conveniently” loses count and has to start aaall over again.

Stiles would definitely be the type to make you laugh just to stare, adorably awe-struck, by the gorgeous way you shut your eyes and the way just the sound of your laugh makes him grin so hard it almost hurts.

Yup. This boy is so done for.

Mr. Isaac Lahey, with the height of a Redwood tree and a tongue sharp enough it’s a miracle he doesn’t cut his own mouth with it. 

The informal intimacy of just cuddling would mean ALOT to him. In some ways, Isaac would find sex easier than the vulnerability of simply lying next to someone, softly speaking secret words no one else has heard. 

So you thought for sure he’d fallen asleep with his head in your lap as you read—you running your fingers through his soft hair in a soothing rhythm.. You didn’t know he was awake until you stopped petting the puppy running your fingers through and he murmured something. You bent your head down, heart loud in your chest. 

“What was that?”

“You don’t have to stop.”

And that was the beginning of cuddling with the yellow-eyed hottie. 

Once Isaac got a taste for cuddling, though? Oh. 

BOi.

The amount of affection this guy showers you in: every adorable hand kiss you can imagine, all the snuggles, and hugs for dayzzz. 

Cuddling with Isaac meant a whole new level of relationship, so yeah. It was special. 

Derek’s cuddle sesh would definitely involve sleepy kisses

He likes to touch you to ground himself: he sees you as the only real thing that makes sense in this entire world, so to get an excuse to just lay down beside you, to need no excuse to touch you, it’s like his version of heaven. 

He’d skim his fingers across the sliver of skin between the end of your t-shirt and above the waistline of your pants, pattering designs along your skin while smiling into the curve of your neck. 

Derek might tell you about his day, his deep voice sending shudders through your body, chuckles like thunder that send your heart racketing.