#(let's just ignore that it is a slur for a sec bc all my feelings are affectionate <3)

[serotaejin]

i had some mishti doi earlier this evening and thought of you, mayhaps YOU are MY mishti doi?? 💛

T PLEASE THIS HAS TO BE THE CUTEST EDIT 🥺🥺 my mishti doi eating mishti doi <3

[sophia1644]

Downpour

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Warnings: angst to the damn max, both of you guys crying and being absolutely devastated bc u lost each other ;((((( , but don’t worry it’s a v happy ending aka smutty towards the end

Summary: Y/N loves Stiles Stilinski dearly and can’t believe she let her soulmate slip through her fingers so easily. Luckily, Stiles comes to the same realization, both of them not letting the downpour hinder their love.

Word Count: 1.4k 

A/N: yayayyayayay, I really like this I was listening to this song on repeat. omfg it’s so good idk I love her voice and the vibes. Like I feel like I should be in a quaint coffee shop sipping a latte in a cozy sweater with my boyfriend. Don’t forget to comment if you like this ;) it’s much appreciated bc I love feedback!! It makes my day!!!

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I sit down at the wooden bench to my bay window, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders and snuggling deeper into the crimson flannel that still vaguely smelt of him. I hug my mug full of hot cocoa closer to my chest, warmth radiating to my fingertips as I look out the window. Rain falls down, wetting the pavement and turning everything a darker shade while a peaceful, rhythmic sound taps against the glass pane.

I wish that he was here, but I push that thought aside, knowing that he wasn’t mine anymore. A tear slips down my cheek and I’m quick to brush it away with the heel of my hand, taking in a deep breath and exhaling it through my nose.

“It’s over,” is all that keeps replaying in my head on repeat. The way his face morphed from anger to disbelief to sadness within a second after the brash words fell from my lips, fueled by anger and not truth. The way I slammed the door as I ran out of his house, keys in hand and tears brimming my eyes. And the way I didn’t turn back. And how I haven’t answered anyone’s calls or texts for at least a week now, including his.

“I’m such an idiot,” I mutter, more tears threatening and proceeding to fall down my cheeks. I can’t believe that that is how I ended things with the person I truly believed- still believe, is my soulmate.

One argument that went too far, ending with anger-filled words that we would never use with clear state of mind. Words that we would never use in any circumstance towards each other, but still managed to slip past our lips.

I set the cracked blue mug aside, wrapping my arms around my knees and tugging them closer, placing my chin atop as tears continue streaming down my face with no sign of stopping.

How the hell could I let him go? Just, how?

My phone buzzes. I don’t even bother glancing toward the bright screen, knowing that it’s probably just another pointless text that’ll be ignored.

But, the device buzzes again, and again, and again, countless times, for minutes on end. I pick it up, preparing to go to my settings to turn off all notifications, but my fingers stop moving, my whole body convulsing as I weep harder. I forgot that my lock screen was a picture of Stiles and I laughing together, mid-kiss, not to mention the notification that I have 29 missed calls from him.

I click on one of the voicemails, immediately regretting it as the familiar sound of his voice echoes around my room, but with a noticeable flaw. I can tell he’s been crying as his voice breaks at certain syllables, his state of utter sadness similar to mine.

“Love, please j-just pick up the pho-phone, so tha-that we can tal-lk it out.”

But, isn’t he better without me? It’s clear that I’m a fuck up from losing him in the first place and I’m also the reason that this preciously perfect boy is crying. So, how could he not be better off without me?

The harsh truth was that Mieczyslaw Stilisnki didn’t need me, and that hurt. More than I’d like to admit honestly.

“Y/N, I’m be-begging you. Pl-lease, I ne-eed you to pick up.”

“You haven’t and-answered anyone. Not even Ly-Lydia. At this point, I jus-just need to make sure you’re ok-okay. Bec-cause if you’re not, god, love, pl-please I can’t do this. Pi-ick up.”

“Fuck it, Y/N, I’m co-coming over. I can’t t-take this anymore.”

By some act of the gods, I glance out the window again and there he is. Roscoe is parked on the street, Stiles sitting in the drivers seat, tapping his fingers against the wheel, one of his nervous ticks.

His warm brown eyes dart up to my window, an expression of relief flooding his features. He raised his phone in my vision, pointing frantically at it. I look down at my own to see his profile picture fill my screen, a phone call coming from him.

I tentatively grasp my phone in my hands, the button to answer tempting me. I look back out the window to see Stiles looking back at me with desperation, biting his bottom lip.

The sight of him pushes me over the edge, my instincts picking up the call and raising the phone to my ear.

“Thank god,” he says exasperatedly. “I’m sorry. Okay? I’m so so-sorry for everythi-thing it’s all my fa-fault. I take it all bac-ck. Just pl-please come back to me, Y/N. I can’t, I can’t do this with-without you, love.”

Teardrops that were previously balancing on my bottom lash line fall with Stiles’ rushed slur of words. 

“Y/N? Please say som-something, any-nything,” he sighs breathlessly, resting his head against the steering wheel to his blue jeep, lines creasing his forehead as his brows pull down, looking up at me still.

“I’ll be down in a sec, a second,” I manage to say in coherent words, standing up and walking down the hall, slipping on a pair of shoes and braving the downpour outside.

I run to the passenger’s side door, tugging open the door and quickly sitting down, already feeling drenched from head to toe.

The vehicle stays silent for multiple seconds as we both stare dead ahead, neither of us sure where to begin. Stiles ends up breaking the silence, both of us turning towards each other at the same time as he takes in a sharp breath. He reaches out to latch his hand into mine, and I allow him, feeling at home in his touch.

“I shouldn’t have let that fight gone that far,” he apologizes, reaching up and tucking a strand of my unruly hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek. He looks down, mumbling a profanity under his breath.

“No, don’t blame yo-yourself,” I counter, grasping his chin and guiding his eyes back up to my own. “It’s my fault more than yours, Stiles.”

“No, no, it’s not your fa-ault. You’re not all-allowed to say that either,” he hurriedly argues, shaking his head, his nose bumping into mine due to how close we managed to get.

“Then, it’s neither of our faults,” I conclude, my hand traveling to the back of his neck and playing with the short hairs there. He nods, parting his lips and his eyes darting to mine.

“Can we make a vow to never fight again?” He murmurs softly, wiping away the tears littered across my cheeks.

“Please. I hated being away from you,” I reply, my other hand resting on his black sweatshirt-clad chest.

“Why didn’t you answer any of my calls?” Stiles asks, his brows furrowing. 

“I thought you were better off without me,” I confess, pulling my lip in between my teeth.

His eyes widen and he kisses me suddenly, with no warning, our lips pressing with an intensity that neither of us were prepared for. I pull back in surprise and he quickly explains himself. “Y/N, I’m literally nothing without you. How could I be better off without my other half?”

I smile fondly at him, the remnants of tears on both of our faces not reflecting the immense happiness between us at the moment. I swiftly throw my leg over his, straddling him carefully as to not hit the ceiling or the wheel.

I laugh as he smirks cheekily at me, feeling the curve of his smile still as I kiss him. The kisses become more intense, the eagerness from both of us growing. He feverishly pulls me by the waist closer to minimize any distance between his body and mine.

His mouth starts trailing hot kisses down my jawline, then my neck, blowing cool air over it, making me squirm slightly. Stiles starts unbuttoning his flannel currently worn by me, a small smile forming now that the realization that I’m wearing his clothes hits him.

He peers out the window for a moment, tossing the flannel behind his shoulder to the back seat. “It sure is raining out there, huh?” He jokes, trying to annoy me.

“Stiles, we’re kind of in the middle of something here.”

“Oh, yeah, that. The fact that my beautiful as hell girlfriend is making out with me in my jeep didn’t slip my mind whatsoever.”

“Just kiss me, dork.”