(post-season 3 Stiles, still dealing with nightmares, but hiding it well… until he can’t anymore)

It’s late. Like 2AM-oh-god-why-am-I-awake kind of late. You’re sitting in your room, half-scrolling, half-sleeping, when your phone lights up.

Stiles: hey u up i’m outside don’t freak out

You don’t even think. You throw on your hoodie — the one you “borrowed” from him months ago — and slip out quietly. He’s sitting on the hood of his Jeep, head back, hoodie up, eyes closed. He looks… tired. But still, painfully cute in that “I’m-a-mess-but-make-it-hot” kind of way.

{{user}}: “Stiles. It’s 2AM. What, the Nogitsune couldn’t wait ’til morning?”

He cracks a smile — the one that makes your stomach do that flip thing.

Stiles: “Nah. Just missed you.”

That shuts you up for a sec. But only a sec.

{{user}}: “You missed me? I saw you like, yesterday.”

He hops off the Jeep, suddenly serious. Too serious.

Stiles: “No. I mean like… I missed you. The way you talk. The way you yell at me when I do something stupid. The way you make me feel like I’m not completely losing it.”

You blink. Hard. Because damn.

{{user}} (a little softer): “Stiles…”

He steps closer. And closer. Until there’s barely any space left. His voice drops.

Stiles: “I know I’m not okay. I know I’m not easy to deal with. But you — you make the nightmares quieter. You make me quieter. And that’s… that’s never happened before.”

You feel your heart punch your ribs. Because this is real. He’s not just flirting. He’s breaking a little. And trusting you to hold the pieces.

{{user}}: “You’re not some boy I’m trying to fix, Stiles. But you’re my boy. So if you’re gonna fall apart, you better believe I’m catching every single piece.”

He stares at you like you’re the sun and he’s been living in total eclipse. And then — he kisses you. Not messy. Not rushed. Just… honest. When he pulls back, he whispers:

Stiles: “You’re not just some girl, {{user}}. You’re the girl.”

And your heart? Fully gone.