A/n: Hello friends this imagine was taken from a chapter of my Stiles fic Sandcastles, so if this sounds familiar you know why. I thought the chapter would make a cute lil imagine so I changed it up a bit and here it is. Hope you enjoy x 

p.s thank you all so much for 3.1 million reads omg I love you

* * * 

The pictures in the catalogues lied. They always did, and you knew this, but for some odd reason they were getting to you much more than they usually did. More than they should.

No girl could look that good, but God, you wished you did.

Why were all those models so much skinnier than you? Why didn't you fit into a size four? Why didn't your hair sit like that? Why didn't your makeup look that flawless when you did it?

You flicked the magazine shut, pushing it off the bed until it landed on the floor. You couldn't help but  let out a frustrated sigh while rubbing your face with your hands, not noticing how much it had gotten to you until you felt warm tears on your palms.

"Hey, (Y/n), can you-"

Your head snapped up, seeing Stiles standing in the doorway with wide eyes.

"No, no, what's wrong?" He rushed over to you, clambering onto the bed and bringing your body onto his lap in one swift movement. "What's going on? Why are you crying?"

"Why don't I look like them?" You cried, burying your head into Stiles' chest.

"Look like who, love?" He ran one of his hands up and down your back, trying to comfort you to some extent. You pointed at the magazine that had been discarded onto the floor by your bed.

Stiles pulled away from you so he could pick up the magazine, then let you curl up against his side again. Stiles began to flick through the magazine, looking only at the pages you had folded the corners of. Each and every page you had marked was filled with beyond thin women modelling wedding dresses and carefully planned outfits. Their hair and make up had evidently been spent hours on. No one can look that good all the time.

"You don't need to look like them," He sighed. "They look like they haven't had a decent meal in a week. Every single part of you, (Y/n), from the top of your head to the souls of your feet is so God damn beautiful, okay? You don't need to be overly skinny or have flawless hair and make up to impress anyone."

"I love you." You mumbled, barely in a whisper.

"I love you more."

A silence settled over the room, as did the darkness. The sun had well and truly set, leaving both Stiles and yourself in an dark and peaceful room. You had grown so quiet and still against Stiles that he had thought you'd fallen asleep, that is until you spoke up gently. 

"Can you sing to me?"

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows, looking down at you, "What? Why? You know I can't sing."

"Doesn't matter," You mumble, a tired yawn leaving your lips. "Just want to hear your voice, is all."

He thought for a moment, before quietly beginning to sing, "You are golden, sun rays dance across your face. He was hoping you might be his saving grace," You let out a content sigh, pressing yourself impossibly closer to Stiles' chest, so he kept going. "Cinderella, oh Cinderella, you are running. Airplanes can only go so far, as he keeps searching for something so worth searching for." You were slowly beginning to fall asleep, tears well gone now. He kept singing. "Cinderella, oh Cinderella. Cinderella, dressed in white, hope you got your wish tonight. Girl won't you be queen? Well give me your love and I will give you everything."

Once Stiles was sure you were asleep, he smiled fondly at you lying there, completely still. Your hair was a mess, a hair tie keeping some of it to the top of your head, though most of it had come free now. The shirt you were wearing used to belong to him. He had passed it down to you when it got too small for him, knowing that you liked to wear his shirts more than you liked to wear your own. Your makeup-less face rested flush against his chest, flaws comfortably out for his non-judgemental eyes to see.

"I think I want to marry you one day." He whispered, remembering the dresses he had seen in the magazine earlier, and thinking how beautiful you would look in one. 

And although he knew you couldn't hear him, he still meant every word. Holding you tighter against himself, he pressed a gentle kiss against the top of your head then settled down more comfortably in your bed and let his eyes slip closed.