AN: Stiles/Reader fluffiness ahead - you've been warned. The title's from Vance Joy's 'Riptide' (Love that song - but for this story I used Taylor Swift's cover of it bc it's amazeballs as well). I don't own Teen Wolf - but then again, if I did we would finally be getting some answers, am I right? (Seriously, where the fuck is Danny or Issac?)

Her eyes had been staring at the ceiling for what had seemed like forever.

She had tried everything. Counting sheep. Thinking about what a great thing sleep truly is. She even started a countdown from a million - but it was too much thinking to make the whole countdown thing work and she had lost track after she made it to nine hundred seventy six thousand, four hundred and thirty eight.

One thing kept coming back to the front of her mind, haunting her again and again. Werewolves. And with werewolves came all the shit she had to deal with.

This was going to be a rough night.

But then an idea gloriously popped into her head.

Stiles.

He was good at literally boring her to sleep. And sometimes, his voice was just comforting to her. Maybe he could help. She thought as she grappled for her phone in the dark.

She unlocked it and pushed through the blinding light to get to her contacts. She found the embarrassing picture she had taken of him eating those damn curly fries a while back and pressed on it, calling him.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Do you know what time it is?" His sleep clogged voice rasped into the phone.

"Not really, no." She answered sheepishly.

"It's everyone-in-Beacon-Hills-is-asleep-except-for-you-and-now-me o'clock."

"Did you rehearse that?" She found herself asking.

"Maybe." He yawned through the phone. "But that's beside the point. Why'd you call?"

She paused for a moment. This was stupid. She was stupid. Why on Earth had she thought that this was a good idea?

"You still there?" His low voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

She might as well tell him. Get it over with.

"I can't sleep." She said quietly.

Maybe she was so quiet that he couldn't hear her.

That would be amazing.

God, this was so embarrassing.

He was silent for a while. Did he hear her? Was he regretting their friendship? Was he wondering why he had answered his phone - or even why he had gotten one in the first place?

No wonder why she couldn't sleep. Her mind was always running around with thoughts - mostly consisting of scholarly facts that made her seem sophisticated, bad puns, pop culture references, trivia, and all things dealing with the supernatural - sadly.

"What do you need me to do?" She heard him ask through the line.

"I don't know." She breathed out, pausing to think for a moment. "Anything. Just talk about something."

"Alright." She listened as he exhaled slowly. "You'll probably regret it." She just called him to talk - rather, listen - about anything and everything resembling a sense of normalcy in their lives. It was kind of weird. But he knew that she was having trouble coming to terms with all the things going on in their lives at the moment.

And he felt guilty about it.

Even after she had told him over and over again that it wasn't his fault.

But if he could make it better - even if a little - he would.

"Okay." He started quietly, not wanting to wake up the Sheriff a few doors down. "So you know that test in math last week?" He paused.

"Yeah?" He heard her reply though the phone.

"Complete bullshit."

He heard her soft laughter. "Is that because we got them back today?"

"That's beside the point." He dismissed. "What am I going to do with all those formulas in everyday life anyway?"

"I don't know."

"I also don't see how I'll ever be able to use the idea of Kurtz being one of the good guys turned megalomaniac to help me in the real world? Never. That's what."

"Geez, Stiles," She commented quietly. "Conrad got your panties in a twist, huh?"

"You've just gotten me started. Told you you'd regret it."

"Uh huh."

"And another thing!" He said loudly. He paused, listening for his dad to come in and ask him what the hell he was doing.

But his door didn't open.

He was good.

"And another thing." He reiterated quietly, trying to keep his voice in check. "I can't stand how teachers just expect us to know things and then when we don't they just like at and with an 'uh huh' and got back like nothing had happened."

"I don't really have that problem." She yawned out.

Good. This was working.

"But that's because Coach doesn't hate you. And you're smart."

"If you say so." Her voice was uncertain.

"No, I'm serious." he defended. "You're like 'Lydia' smart." He paused, thinking it over. "And that's not as easy as one might think." He continued.

"I know, Stiles. I'm her friend, remember?" He could almost hear the eye roll.

"I know that."

"No one can be 'Lydia' smart." She paused. "And definitely not me."

"I'm calling bullshit on that." He argued. "We would still be stuck on square one if it wasn't for you."

"You would have figured it out on your own, though."

"Maybe." He conceded. "But not before four other people would have died."

"You think so?" There was that quiet uncertainty again.

"Definitely. I don't know where I'd - I mean - where we'd be without you."

The other side of the line was silent. Had he said too much? He wasn't too obvious with his feelings for her, was he? Sure, she had her flaws - like her habit of bottling things up and emotionally distancing herself from others - but she truly was an amazing person.

And it killed him that she wasn't able to realize it yet.

"Anyways," She piped up. "Back to people you have problems with."

"Yeah," He pondered, thinking of who else there was. "Next on the list is Peter Hale." Okay, so he might have been skirting around the silently outlawed theme of werewolves, But Stiles couldn't stand Derek Hale's uncle.

How old was the guy anyways? It bothered the teenager immensely.

"He's always got some other agenda - with everything."

"He is pretty shady." She agreed.

"He would probably have a hidden motive for getting ice cream." Stiles added.

"That seems reasonable."

"So you see it, too." Stiles smiled triumphantly. Finally, someone was taking this Peter thing seriously. "Everyone keeps giving him the benefit of the doubt. I mean, I understand that Derek has to at least try to trust the guy - you know, with them being related - but Scott trusts him. And even Lydia does to a fault. It's insane!"

"Mhm." He heard her mumble.

"At least the two of us know what's going on, yeah?"

"Sure." She yawned again.

"I don't know." Stiles sighed, rubbing his hand down his face in exasperation. "I just don't know what good could come from aligning ourselves with him."

"More wolves in a pack make the pack stronger." She reasoned quietly. "And - as much as I hate to admit - he has the experience that we all lack. Even Derek.

"Is it ideal? No. But that's what we've got to work with right now, sadly."

"I just hope that Scott will be able to use the guy before he uses us again."

"That would be nice." She agreed, yawning again.

"This whole 'talking' thing working?" He asked, ceasing their previous conversation.

"Like a charm." Stiles could hear the smile peeking through her tired voice.

"Good." He concluded. "Now onto that librarian." He continued. "Is there any way you could get her to loosen up?"

"She's actually a very nice lady, Stiles."

"No, she's not." Stiles argued.

"Maybe it's because you always find a way to cause a scene there."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Remember last week when you knocked over the Spanish book shelf?"

"I was doing something important!" He defined himself.

"You were eavesdropping on my conversation with Lydia." She deadpanned.

"But the librarian didn't have to force me to leave."

"You were a disturbance." He heard her laughter again. "And it was 'Children's Hour'. You interrupted her reading Horton Hears a Who." God, that quiet laughter was going to be the death of him.

"You're not making this any better." He tried to fight the smile pushing through.

"No, no. Keep going." She said lightly, yawning after.

"So Danny," He started.

"Watch what you say here, Stiles." She warned halfheartedly.

"It's nothing bad." He defended. "He just won't tell me if he finds me attractive. I mean, am I or am I not. It's a simple question. I ask him all the time. He should have just answered me the first time then we wouldn't be here, now would we?" He paused. "Come to think of it, no one will answer me." He focused on her. "Do you think I'm attractive?"

Silence.

"So now's when you finally fall asleep? The one time I need you?" Nothing. "I see how it is." And then he realized that he was still talking to a sleeping girl.

So he stopped.

But he didn't end the call. Not just yet.

He could hear her soft and rhythmic breathing on her side.

And it calmed him.

It calmed him so much that soon enough, he too fell asleep with the phone screen pressed to his ear, leaving a red imprint on his face and a couple questions from the Sheriff when the teenager woke up.

Stiles stopped talking with Scott about their next move to watch her walk into school the next morning.

She was heading towards his locker, a smile on her face.

He couldn't stop himself from giving her a once over. A white shirt that revealed just enough to keep things interesting was tucked into a black and white printed skirt. And she had added a grey cardigan.

And those legs.

Jesus.

She really was going to be the death of him, wasn't she?

"So, we still on for research at the library tonight?" She asked. "I'll help during my shift." She added, smiling at the two as if they needed the extra incentive to go.

Stiles' mind went blank.

Scott answered for the two. "Yeah, we'll be there after practice, right Stiles?"

The werewolf nudged his friend and the twitchy teenager looked at the girl's hopeful face. "Yeah. Totally." He squeaked out. "Can't wait." He could feel Scott's eyes on him, and he didn't need any werewolf powers to know that his heart rate had doubled or even tripled since she walked down the hallway.

"Great!" She exclaimed.

Then her phone dinged. As she pulled it out, Stiles could only think of how less that twelve hours ago, she had called him on that thing asking for his help. She frowned slightly at the device. "I've got to get to Lydia - something about a chemical proponent spilling over her notes in the lab. I'll see you two in class, yeah?"

"Yeah." Scott answered again for the two boys.

"Cool. See you then." She smiled at them before continuing her way down the hallway.

Stiles felt Scott's eyes directly on him and started to turn around to give him some bullshit answer for his sudden quiet behavior.

But he was stopped when he heard the familiar clicking of her black boots getting louder and louder.

She appeared in front of him, panting a little - as if in a hurry.

Then his mind blacked out for a bit.

But from what Scott told him afterward, she had reached up and hugged him. Stiles had even motioned to return the affection.

One phrase stuck with him the rest of the school day.

'Thank you' in her melodic voice as her body supposedly pressed up against his and her arms - again supposedly - tightly wrapped around his shoulders.

But he felt it was more concrete than supposed, since he could still feel the warmth from the embrace and the softness of her cardigan against his skin. There was also the observation that Scott was still snickering about his reaction that really cemented the idea of the whole ordeal being real.

The library was going to be so much fun.

AN: Wow, there's some nice fluff for all the Stiles lovers out there - we need it if we're going to be watching this final season, right?

Remember to Smile :)
~Becca