College is a transformation for Stiles. He graduates high school as salutatorian, with a full scholarship to Stanford and one sexual relationship to brag about (one fumbling hand job in a couch, in the middle of a party. He knows her name, of course, he does, but the next day, she acted like she didn’t even know him. Stiles got the message pretty fast).
He has high expectations for college, but he was also sure that it won’t be that different from high school in the social aspect. Stiles is one of those people that wouldn’t mind being popular, except he really doesn’t like about 2/3 of the people he knows, and he trusts an even smaller number. He also knows that his hobbies are way too nerdy for the cool crowd.
It doesn’t help that the little social circle he had in high school isn’t present at Stanford. Scott is up in Davis, where he got into the Vet program. Stiles had considered getting into Davis too; he was going to follow Scott but his dad, Scott, Mrs. McCall and basically every other person Stiles knew convinced him he would be a fool not to get into the college he actually wanted to attend.
Plus, as Scott pointed out, Davis and Stanford are close. They would be okay.
Everything points to college being a difficult experience, but it ends up being full of (good) surprises. For one, Stiles realizes that people are way more accepting there, and for another, he actually realizes that the things he likes are appreciated by more people than he anticipated. It’s a relief to notice that the whole social pyramid of high school is nonexistent in college and that things that were unimaginable are fairly acceptable. Like going to 8am classes in his pajamas.
Stiles even makes friends, which isn’t something he thought would happen. It isn’t that he’s socially challenged; it’s more that Stiles doesn’t trust people easily, and he’s mostly uninterested in making an effort. Still, he understands that he should at least try, if not for the sake of his academic life, so he does. And to his surprise, it actually works fairly well.
Scott had called everyone and told them to meet at his house
at 7 o’ clock, for a movie night. Everyone said that they will be there so I didn’t
want to be the one person who said no. I was making my way to Scott’s house
when I got a text message:
You coming to Scotts
Yeah, I’m almost
Just curious, didn’t
want bae to not be there.
I blushed at his comment, he’s not even here and he makes me
Shortly after my conversation with Theo, I arrived at Scott’s.
Everyone’s cars were parked out the front. I quietly knocked on the door and I heard
“Y/N IS HERE!” then a lot of shuffling of the feet, like
someone was running. The door swung open and Theo stood there with a bright
smile. “Don’t just stand there! Come in!” he closed the door behind me and we
walked into the living room.
“y/n!” yelled Lydia, embracing me into a hug. I whispered a
hello. I wasn’t a big talker.
“About time too.” Stiles said, looking through the movies. “Star
Wars or Harry Potter?” he said lifting the movies. Everyone said Harry Potter.
“Yeah, Theo was getting impatient.” I looked at Theo and
blushed. Scott laughed. “He did the same thing to you to the pizza man because
he thought it was you,” everyone laughed, “he’s words were; you’re not y/n.” Another round of laughs
“How could I not be disappointed, I mean look at her.” Theo
said. I felt my cheeks heat up, we weren’t even dating.
“You know, y/n, I haven’t known you for long but in all the
time that I’ve known you I’ve only heard you talk three or four times.” I
nodded my head.
“I’m not a very big talker.” I whispered, but loud enough so
everyone could hear me.
“Make that four or five times now.” Stiles said looking at
Liam. I laughed. After a five minute
argument of what Harry Potter movie to watch will all settled on Prisoner of Azkaban.
“This is going to be good.” Stiles said, dragging out the
good. We all sat in silence as the movie began.
Halfway through the movie I felt an arm sling over my
shoulder. I looked to my right to see who this arm belonged to, Theo. I immediately
felt my face heat up and he leaned down and whispered in my ear.
“Am I that attractive that I can make you blush just by
putting my arm over your shoulder.” I look down at my feet and smile. “I wonder
how much I can make you blush by kissing you.” He leaned down and grabbed my
face with his two hand, our lips moved in perfect rhythm. When he pulled away I
saw everyone was watching us.
“About time.” Said Lydia, stuffing some popcorn into her
a/n : first preference thing, came out pretty good, actually. mostly because i wrote like eighty different versions of it. hope you guys like it! ps, if you lovelies want me to add anyone to the preferences, just ask. also, idk why every gif is in black n white, it just happened.xx
s c o t t -
“Scott, I am perfectly capable of walking myself to the nurse’s office. I fell, I fall all the time, it’s no big deal.” Your protests lie on deaf ears as Scott tightens his grip on you, gallantly carrying you in his arms after twisting your ankle in gym.
“It’s red and swollen, Y/N, you wouldn’t have made it. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I made you walk on a sprained ankle?” He didn’t wait for your answer. “A shitty one. I would never do that.”
“Scott McCall, I have come to the conclusion that it is absolutely and positively impossible for someone to meet you and not fall in love with you, at least a little. As for me, I’m a bit more than a little in love with you, if that makes any sense.” He grinned down at you, taking a moment to spin you in his arms before abruptly stopping, just so he could take a moment to appreciate the full smile on your face, the one full of pure joy and love; a smile he was afraid would one day vanish completely from your lips.
“If that’s your strange but endearing way of you saying that you love me, then I love you, too.”
s t i l e s -
“Stilinski, I’m trying to watch the movie, unlike some people!” You whined jokingly, avoiding the soft pillow that seemed to keep coming into contact with your face whenever your attention strayed too far from Stiles himself. He laughed again, loud and happy as he swung the pillow at you again. You ducked, crinkling your nose at him as he turned to grin at you.
“Just admit it, Y/N,” he said, smirking at you as he held the pillow over you again. “Admit that you’re totally in love with me, your amazingly hilarious boyfriend who loves to playfully tease you, and you love him for it. Say it.” You shook your head, shutting your eyes as he hit you with the pillow again. It didn’t hurt, it was soft and playful and pretty funny, which just about sums up your relationship. “I know that I’m in love with you, so why can’t you just say that you love me back?” It was said in a joking manner, but it made your heart stop altogether, because it was the first time he had ever spoken those words to you.
You grabbed the pillow back, boldly declaring, “Fine, I’m in love with you, too.” Then, you whacked him in the face with the pillow.
i s a a c -
You entered Isaac’s room without knocking, because you knew that if you had knocked he wouldn’t have allowed you in. Despite being his girlfriend of four months and knowing practically everything about him from years of friendship prior, he was still extremely hesitant when it came to letting you into his life. So when he texted you about having a nightmare and needing you to come over, he almost instantly regretted it. But there you were, already slipping off your shoes and shrugging your coat off. He had his head buried in the blankets, though you could tell he was as awake as ever when you approached his bed.
“Budge over, sweet pea,” you muttered, ruffling his curls with your hand as he looked up at you.
“Sweet pea?” He chuckled, moving his own hand to rest atop your own. You pushed him over slightly, ignoring his comment, and nestled yourself into his side. You proceeded to move his arm up so that it was slung around your shoulders, and you could feel Isaac nuzzle his head into your neck. “Thank you for coming over, you’re really sweet, you know that? I think I love you.”
And, as if you had said it a thousand times before and as if there weren’t a million butterflies fluttering around in your stomach, you softly replied, “I love you, too.”
d e r e k -
“Okay, I am determined to make this place slightly more livable, hope you don’t mind, Der.” You didn’t even give him a chance to answer as you dragged two more cans of paint into the loft, pushing them against the wall before setting up a ladder in the other corner of the room. You took out two paint rollers, handing your spare to Derek with a bright smile. He dutifully began painting one wall of what he referred to as “the living room” while you painted the other wall. But you were growing bored, and you wanted some more entertainment than just watching Derek’s back muscles flex as he reached to paint higher (not that you didn’t enjoy it). Instead, you quickly swiped your paint roller down the back of his black t shirt, trying to move away as quick as you could before he could get you back. But he was faster, grabbing the back of your shirt and painting you in retaliation as you squealed for him to stop.
“Derek, stop it! I love this shirt!” The protestant shrieks were cut off by the laughter that tumbled from your lips as he kept his grip on you, though not in an angry or annoyed way. In a sort of hug. When he finally stopped, you pulled away, trying to force an annoyed expression onto your face but failing, the grin escaping before you could stop it.“You’re lucky I love you, Hale.” He froze, and so did you, because you totally did not mean to tell him that.
“You love me?” And Derek was grinning, actually smiling without a trace of sarcasm or irony to be detected, as he approached you, eyebrows raised. You nodded weakly, biting your lip. He was in front of you now, tilting your chin up to look at him.“Well, that’s good because I love you, too.”
l i a m -
You and Liam were relatively young, fifteen years old and already in a committed relationship. But you were both absolutely adorable together, and that thought was relayed over and over again by your friends, especially on the night he said, “I love you,” for the first time.
It was the night of another extremely important lacrosse match, and, like usual, you were supporting Liam in his spare jersey and nervously wringing your hands together as you watched him play against some of the much older boys. “You got this, Liam. You got this, Liam, c’mon, Liam,” you chanted in a whisper, knowing he would hear you even though you were being quiet. Suddenly, before you could restrain yourself, you screamed, “You got this, babe!” Liam glanced up into the crowd, meeting your eyes as you gestured for him to continue playing.
When he made the winning shot, he turned toward the crowd, shouting into it, “I love you, Y/N!” Your eyes went wide, your jaw slack as Lydia and Kira ushered you off the bleachers. When you were on solid ground, you sprinted toward Liam and launched yourself into his arms, where he caught you effortlessly, a surprised expression on his face. “I love you, Liam,” you said, beaming before pulling him into a kiss.