Please fire me. I work at an coffee shop near an Ivy League campus and these spoiled, rich students are generally terrible customers. And one time, a parent of one of these kids came in, and was digging around for the change for her coffee. When she realized she didn’t have it, she reached her slimy old hand into my tip jar and pulled out the change she needed!
I was tagged by @young-justice-trash to post 8 pictures of myself in 2016! So I decided to post some of the funnest places I’ve been this year! Most were taken in the last couple of days. This was hard because there aren’t a lot of photos of me by myself. 😂
Summary: Stiles needs a filter from his heart and brain to his tongue.
Author’s Note: This story is also known as “Five Times Stiles Said Something He Shouldn’t Have and the One Time He Said It At the Right Time.” Just for the super long title it originally was, I had to cut it down LOL.
“I think you’re really pretty.”
The words leave Stiles’ mouth, and it’s much louder than he
intended. He almost hopes that his study partner across the table doesn’t hear
him, but that’s always too easy. She stops writing midsentence and the look she
gives him is shock mixed with speechlessness and a dash of embarrassment.
Stiles plots different ways that he wants to kill himself (like
throw himself off of the college’s clock tower) in the fifteen seconds of
silence that follows his statement.
“Thank you,” she answers in a soft voice, her cheeks hot.
Stiles smiles before turning back to his paper. He tries to
hide the relief that she hasn’t run off after his frank declaration. It’s a
compliment. She shouldn’t run after a compliment.
“I wonder what your lips taste like.”
He almost closes his eyes to cringe at his admission. He was
supposed to be paying attention to what she was saying, but instead he had been
staring at her cherry red lips. He had been wondering what it would be like to
kiss her for a while, probably ever since she smiled at him for the first time.
Stiles runs a hand through his hair, tempted to pull it out.
She had stopped talking once he had cut in, and was staring down at her lap,
wringing her hands together.
If he was gonna make a fool of himself, he may as well keep
going. “Can I kiss you?” he asks. She bites her lip, and he prays she says yes.
Elation floods his body as he reaches over to cup her cheek.
Her eyes pull up from her lap to lock onto his. They flutter close when he leans
in, closing the space between them.
“This is my girlfriend.”
But she’s really not. Not officially, anyway. They had gone
on a couple of dates (actual dates, not study dates) in the past month. But he
had never asked her to officially be his girlfriend. Yet.
But what was he supposed to say to his dad when he
introduced them? She’s his friend? His study partner? The girl he had been head
over heels with since they met in class? He may as well nail his coffin shut.
“She’s your girlfriend?” Sheriff Stilinski asks, surprised.
A blush covers her cheeks as she answers, “Yes, I’m his
girlfriend. My name’s [Name]. Pleasure to meet you Mr. Stilinski.”
Stiles gapes at her, and he has nothing to say as she and
his father begin chatting. She doesn’t correct him later when they’re alone.
“I can’t wait to marry you.”
He could have easily blamed it on their surroundings. It was
Scott and Kira’s wedding. She was stunning in her flowy dress and sparkling
earrings and she said he looked handsome in his tux. Good vibes were around
them, and then karma ruled in his favor when she caught the bouquet and he
caught the garter.
Then came the statement as he’s slipping the garter up her
He expects her to hesitate, especially since they’ve been
together for half a year but she simply laughs. “This is only a tradition. It
doesn’t mean we’re going to get married next.”
But he was drunk on the atmosphere of the wedding and on her
and on pure contentment that he’s bolder than ever before. “Are you sure about
Her smile remains when she answers, “No.”
“When we have kids, I hope we have a girl.”
It’s a random declaration that comes to mind when she’s
laying a plate of pancakes in front of him. The thoughts start after that; how
nice it would be to have mornings like this with the smell of chocolate, syrup,
and pancakes and kids (their kids)
She doesn’t respond, but he knows she knows why he wants a
daughter first. The significance of the name of their future daughter lies on
the tip of his tongue. Maybe they have been together for eight months, and it’s
too soon to say that children is in their immediate future, but she won’t fight
him about the name, not when it is after his mother and the woman who was just
as good as a mother to him.
She takes the seat across from him and it’s a genuine smile
she gives him. “That would be nice,” she answers.
He still doesn’t know if they’ll get there, but he hopes
they do because he wants their little girl to look just like her. He can’t
imagine it any other way.
“I love you.”
It’s the first time he had spoken those words out loud, but
not the first time he had thought of it. The truth was, he had been in love
with her long before this moment. He never could pinpoint when exactly, but
maybe it happened when he asked her to be his partner for their class’s project
or even when he kissed her.
She smiles at him, gently touching his hand. “I’ve known
that for a long time.” Her smile widens when she steps on her tip-toes to press
a kiss to his lips, and in a low voice, “I love you too.”
The grin on his face didn’t fade. Stiles had made too many
frank confessions in their time together, and not once did she run away. This
had to be true love.