chloroformthelittleb4stard

[chloroformthelittleb4stard]

Family Relations - Part 6

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

T/CW: food mention, dead body

A/N: guess who’s back, back? back again-gain. it’s me! i will probably be abandoning this fic after this installment tho, sorry :(

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"Who are you?" His voice was loud and booming, waking you up instantly with a surge of fear.

"Huh?" Your eyes grew wide when you saw who you presumed was Stiles' dad, staring down at you. Thankfully his father's voice woke Stiles up as well and minutes later he came bumbling down the stairs, still groggy.

"Hey Dad, surprise." The brunette did the world's most unenthusiastic jazz hands before coming over to his dad and giving him a much welcomed hug, greetings exchanged at the contact. Upon seeing his son wasn't harmed Noah let out a breath of relief, his biggest fear being put to rest. After the initial relief washed away however he gave Stiles a very stern look, 100% convinced that his son had something to do with the stranger currently inhabiting their couch.

"Stiles who is this?" The Stilinski patriarch pointed down at you, sitting up and incredibly embarrassed at being found in the vulnerable state you were.

"Dad meet Y/n. Y/n meet my dad." You both hesitantly shook hands before Noah turned back to his son, an expression on his face that demanded he get an explanation sooner rather than later from Stiles.

"Do you remember when I went to the hospital after the accident in criminology?" His father nodded, sitting in a chair next to you and preparing for a ramble.

"So there's been two more cases of people going crazy and wanting to kill people since then. One happened at a coffee shop in the quad and the other happened at Y/n's apartment last night. It's like the nogitsune, people are just killing for reasons we haven't been able to figure out yet. We have a pack meeting on it today." His dad cut him off, still trying to process the fact that his son's college had two more murderers and he wasn't notified about it. 

"How did I not know about this?" You almost winced at his tone, clearly Mr. Stilinski had a protective side when it came to his son, it was almost endearing enough to make you forget how scary he was.

"Well the last attack happened last night, in the middle of the night. I don't think anyone knows about it yet." Noah let out a sigh, letting his face fall into his hands at his son's actions.

"So there was another murder that you know about, and you came here instead of telling anyone?" Stiles blushed at the way his dad explained his actions, when he said it like that it did seem like a stupid thing to do, but it wasn't.

"It was in my dorm." Both men turned their attention towards you, injecting yourself into their conversation.

"What was?"

"The murders." Your voice was scratchy from having been asleep and Stiles immediately stood up to get you a glass of water.

"There was more than one person killed?" You nodded and the sheriff muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Jesus Christ" but you didn't intend to get confirmation on that statement.

Stiles borderline ran back to the living room, your glass of water in hand, sloshing around the rim of the glass so much you thought he would spill. Miraculously he didn't and set the cup down next to you without so much as a drop, you would've been impressed if you weren't so worried about what Sheriff Stilinski would do next.

"Ok, you two need to tell me everything that happened last night. Got it?" You both nodded immediately and launched into a full-blown ramble in tandem with Stiles in order to recount the events and answer any questions that Noah had. 

=

When Noah was thoroughly caught up he was too tired from his shift to properly scold Stiles so he just waved his son off and went up to bed. You'd wanted to go back to sleep, really, but once you were awake you couldn't get your brain to turn off. Now that there wasn't the immense amount of exhaustion that there was last night it was almost impossible to fall asleep.

Stiles had said not to hesitate to wake him if you needed anything, but you really couldn't qualify 'I really just want to be with you' as needing something. Nevertheless your feet carried you to what you gathered was his bedroom door and you knocked quietly before going in. 

Stiles, as it turns out, was also awake, which made you feel less bad about bothering him. He was sitting on his computer researching possession and murder, a fact that didn't surprise you in the least.

"Stiles?" He hummed, made aware of your presence by the knock but not actually conscious enough to acknowledge it, he was still kind of tired. 

"What're you doing?" He finally spun around in his chair to face you, stretching as he did so. He had dark circles under his eyes, but even with that he was unfairly attractive. 

"Researching. What's up?" You felt a blush rise to your cheeks. Now that you were actually standing in front of him it felt a lot more childish to say 'I couldn't sleep' than it originally had.

"I - uh - I can't sleep." He sighed, motioning you to come join him by the computer.

"Me neither." You stood there awkwardly for a bit before he realized that you were probably waiting for a conversation to start, because non-socially awkward people did that. "So, you hungry?" You didn't think you were but your stomach decided to disagree, suddenly giving you sharp stabbing pains to signal its anger at not being fed.

"Yeah actually, starving." He nodded, agreeing with you silently before he stood up and went rifling through his dresser.

"Ok, get dressed and then we'll go out to eat, I have some smaller clothes that might fit you if you don't have a spare set." As much as you wanted to wear Stiles' clothes you thought it would be best to wear your own, just for now at least so he didn't think you were weird when you said you needed clothes and then showed up one day wearing your own clothing.

You went and grabbed your bag before tip-toeing to the bathroom, trying not to wake up Noah who was asleep in the next room. The bathroom tiles were cold beneath your feet and you jumped slightly at the temperature. Looking in the mirror you took in your face, stained red from the blood you'd forgotten to wash off, and looking dead tired. Your hair was messy, thankfully it had minimal blood in it. 

You scrubbed your face with your hands and the hand soap, not wanting to rifle through their drawers to find any face-wash. The soap kept getting in your eyes and your face was still stained slightly even with the blood washed off, but you were satisfied enough to stop torturing yourself and actually get changed.

You took one last look in the mirror, critiquing your outfit and wondering silently if anyone could consider you attractive when you looked like this. Taking a deep breath you walked towards Stiles' room, only to find he was standing by the front door.

"Ready?" He whispered up to you, really it was less of a whisper and more just quiet talking. You came down to meet him and nodded. Upon confirmation he opened the door, ushering you out into the early daylight before all but slamming the door in his effort to close it.

"Aren't you worried about waking your dad up?" He shook his head before launching into a spiel about how his father could sleep through anything right after a shift. Reluctantly getting into his ancient jeep you set off for food. Where? You had no idea. "Stiles, where are we going?" He hummed noncommittally before realizing what you asked and quickly coming out of his daydream.

"In-n-Out." Your jaw dropped and you had half a mind to jump out of the moving car. This man likes In-n-Out. Really?

"No." He paused, looking at you with a tilt of his head, and goddamnit he was too cute when he did that.

"What do you mean no? In-n-Out is good, they have shakes." He said it like decent milkshakes made up for their lack of variety.

"In-n-Out for breakfast? Are you kidding me?" He pouted, bottom lip pushed out and almost quivering with his act.

"Burgers for breakfast is perfect, you're just uncultured." You let out a gasp and he smiled, taking a small amount of pleasure in offending you.

"I am no such thing! Stiles there is one thing I know and it is," You felt the car swerve just slightly and you looked out the windshield to see the car almost off the road with how wayward it had gotten. "That you are going to crash this car. Jesus, Stiles pull over!" His eyes went wide and he whipped his head to face the road, immediately getting the car back from the curb and pulling in to park on the side.

"There, now we can talk about why you don't want In-n-Out for breakfast even though it's the best fast food restaurant ever." You rolled your eyes and set your elbow on the headrest of your seat, settling in for a long discussion where you had to convince Stiles that beef and cheese as a breakfast food was unacceptable.

After said long discussion you came to the agreement that you would eat breakfast at a small diner he knew of, one that served pancakes and burgers. You drove this time, of course.

Breakfast, as it turned out, was surprisingly good. The pancakes were amazing and you moaned in appreciation at the first bite, causing Stiles to chuckle.

"D' y'u 'ike ane s'or's?" He was talking with his mouth full, still working on his fries and shake.

"I could not understand a word you just said." He rolled his eyes and swallowed his mouthful, repeating what he said.

"I said, do you like any sports?" 

"Eh, never really grew up with them. I did dance, if that's a sport, and my dad made me take karate for like a year but I've never been super into watching sports if that's what you mean." He nodded, all this meant to him was that he would have to get you into sports, lacrosse at the very least. "What about you? Interested in sports?" He smiled and recounted his events with lacrosse in high school, even telling you the time he pelted Scott with lacrosse balls to get back at him.

"Yeah, he didn't get bruises because of the whole 'super healing' thing that he has, but he didn't like it." You laughed at was most likely the understatement of the century. You would more than dislike being pelted with balls.

"I think if you threw lacrosse balls at me I'd hex you into the next century." He laughed and sighed happily as you finished the last of your milkshake. Soon the waitress came to hand over the check and it was a fight to the death of who would pay. You settled for splitting the bill so you could both be free of guilt. 

"Hey Stiles," he was driving back to his house, driving by the pack members' homes in lieu of an actual tour. 

"Yeah Y/n?"

"Why is your front door open?"

[chloroformthelittleb4stard]

Family Relations - Part 5

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

T/CW: Crying, death of general people not any specific character

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It was an excruciatingly long drive. Two hours in a car doesn't seem like a lot but in a car full of people, one of which was an angsty were-wolf and another of which was a hyperactive ball of anxiety, it was some weird version of hell. Allison had tried to fall back asleep about ten minutes after we left her dorm but soon realized that it was an effort in vain. Stiles wouldn't stop moving. His legs were shaking so much that it was jiggling his chair and the old car made sounds of protest whenever he shifted too much. Scott was trying desperately hard to stay awake, he wanted to be there to protect you all, but he was exhausted and he kept falling asleep while leaning against the car door.

Overall, it was an emotionally taxing trip. Maybe it was the fact that you were going to a place you'd never even heard of before, or that you were still processing the death of several of your neighbors, or maybe it was because you had less than 3 hours of sleep. For whatever reason, you were exhausted when Stiles stopped the car and pulled up in front of a light blue house, parking in the driveway and not bothering to open the garage.

"Where are we?" Scott had woken up from his nap and he still seemed incredibly disoriented.

"My house, my dad should be on a shift right now so I'll explain this to him when he gets back." The exaggeration he put on the word 'this' made you snort almost inaudibly, but Stiles heard it and gave you a bright smile in response, not seeming tired in the slightest.

"Stiles can you drop me and Allison at my house, there's not enough room for all four of us on your couch." Scott's suggestion made you flush, apparently you were staying with Stiles, the man you had a crush on and were having a harder and harder time managing to hide your romantic emotions for. This was going to be fantastic.

Stiles shot you a worried look, presumably at leaving you home alone, and you reassured him with a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll be ok Stiles, the sooner you get them to Scott's the sooner they can catch up on the sleep we stole from them." He grumbled something with the line 'life or death' before giving you a last stressed expression, which you knew only one way of calming.

Taking a deep breath you let a small swirl of air converge in the palm of your hand, trying to push away the sleepiness you mustered a smirk, putting up a confident facade to try and settle his mind down.

He huffed at your display of magic before rolling his eyes and giving you a hug, one in which he slipped you the house keys as he did so, a move you though was impressively smooth for a man as clumsy as Stiles. With a wink he was off, settling back into the driver's seat to cart his friends back to their destination of choice while you stood on his porch holding one strap of your backpack so it wasn't completely on the ground.

With a sigh you found the house key that Stiles slipped in your back pocket and unlocked his front door, the dark hallway and staircase greeting you. Toeing off your shoes you went to explore the house more, padding through the kitchen and the dinning room before settling on the living room couch. It was a comfortable couch, soft and not too small. It wasn't an upgrade from your dorm room bed, but it wasn't a downgrade either.

Before you could turn the lights on and settle in to wait for Stiles, he walked through the front door and locked it behind him. Immediately he went to the kitchen, starving after having not eaten almost anything since dinner time the day before. The sun was starting to rise, peeking out over the clouds and slowly bathing the rooms in an orange glow.

After grabbing a snack he headed for the living room where he walked in and saw you sitting stiff as a board on his couch. You'd never really been comfortable in other people's homes, especially homes you hadn't quite chosen to go to. It was more of a 'this is the best decision' stay than a 'wow you invited me to your house under no extenuating circumstances' stay.

"You ok?" His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, having drifted off into space for a moment.

"Yeah, kind of. It's a lot." He gave you a sympathetic look before tentatively moving to sit next to you. Leaning forward he let his elbows support his weight as he rested them on his knees gently.

"This sucks." You laughed out loud, blinking back tears that were coming now that you had more privacy without Allison and Scott around. Without a word Stiles pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back to sooth you as you sniffled lightly into his hoodie. He whispered quiet comforting words to you as you started to calm down, the trauma and seriousness of the situation catching up with you.

"They're dead Stiles. Actually dead. All of them." He grimaced, despite having dealt with lots of death from his years in Beacon Hills it was still a touchy subject, one he had problems addressing head on. He'd never been good at losing people.

"I know..." He took a sigh, the warmth of his breath brushing over the crown of your head before he continued. "We'll get whoever is doing this, I promise you we will." He sounded sure of himself, a confidence that came from experience exuded from him and it settled your nerves slightly more to know that you seemed to have a supernatural problem veteran on your hands.

"You've dealt with stuff like this?" Your voice was scratchy from crying and Stiles, unasked, got up and brought you back a glass of water before answering.

"Yeah, way too much actually. My years in high school seem to have a lot more death than other peoples'." He chuckled but there was no humor in it, just a way to avoid thinking about his pain.

"I'm sorry." Your voice was small and you felt eternally bad about being upset about an event that clearly Stiles had experienced multiple times over. You thought about how lucky you were to have a normal high school, one without so much death. In retrospect you knew you'd not have been strong enough to deal with the emotional weight of mass murder at that age.

There was simultaneous staring off into space for a few moments before you both seemed to return to reality and all of its problems.

"You should get some sleep ok? The pack will be here in a few hours and we need all the rest we can get. I'll be in my room so you can get me if you need something. Don't feel bad about waking me up." With that he left, thumping up the stairs to where you assumed his bedroom was. There wasn't much to do that would put off sleeping and the nightmares that you were sure were inevitable. You pulled the blanket off of the back of the couch and rested your head on one of their pillows, it was nice, worn and comfortable. You drifted off to sleep in no time.

[chloroformthelittleb4stard]

Family Relations - Part 4

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

T/CW: Blood, gore, like a lot of fucking gore, swearing, body horror?

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I hope it's worth it. This is a long chapter but because the first part is short I put a time skip in the middle of it, that's what the = means. P.S - Happy mother's day!

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You'd convinced him to stay with you for the night because of what you were absolutely sure Allison and Scott's "after-pack-meeting" activities would include. It wasn't hard, as soon as you mentioned the prospect of Stiles' precious sleep being interrupted by their shenanigans he was on board with staying at yours. Your dorm had two beds, you'd been lucky and not gotten a roommate, a blessing and a curse really. You'd laid the sheets out and gotten your extra pillow, all ready for Stiles to get to sleep. The only problem was, Stiles wasn't particularly interested in sleep yet. You'd had a long day, mostly it was just that bout of magical fighting that wore you out but still, you were tired, and Stiles simply didn't want to be in silence.

"So, Y/n..." You'd been listening to the sound of Stiles fidget like mad, and you were wondering when he was going to snap and finally talk to you.

"Yes." Your tone was smooth and song-like. Despite needing sleep desperately you wanted to talk to Stiles, he was fun to talk to. You'd always been kind of a loner, it was easier to stay hidden that way, but you didn't need to hide with Stiles and it felt fucking amazing.

"What's D.C like?" He didn't look at you when he asked, staring straight up at the ceiling, but you were happy to stare at him, studying the moles on his cheek and the way his hair laid against the pillow.

"It's, interesting." He snorted, turning to you as you whipped your head away so you didn't get caught staring.

"Care to elaborate on that?" He had a dopey smile on his face, looking at your side profile like his life depended on it while he waited for you to respond. You felt his gaze burning your skin, it was a burn you could get used to.

"I don't know what you want me to say. Traffic's a bitch if you live in D.C, that's for sure. It took me half a hour to go eight miles from my house to school." He sucked in a breath at the statement, like simply hearing about traffic that bad was physically paining him.

"Good thing is if you live in the city you don't really need a car. My mom didn't have a car, neither did any of my babysitters, so we took the metro and the subway everywhere." He hummed, like the thought of the subway actually pleased him.

"I'm going to be in the city, that's for sure. FBI headquarters is on Pennsylvania ave." His muttering made you giggle, surprised that he knew so much about the landscape.

"You've been there before?" Your smile was wide from laughter and you didn't even care if you looked like an idiot, you were having fun.

"Yeah, once. I looked at going to George Washington so when I toured we stopped by. It's a really ugly building by the way, they should fix that." He was quirking a smile as well, glancing between you and the ceiling to try and look discreet.

"Yeah they should." You were trying to be quiet for the sake of your dorm mates but you were having trouble, Stiles was funny and it felt so good to laugh. You hadn't laughed like this in years, always too stressed to find anything amusing.

"So, what's is like rooming with Scott?" He made a vague hum of mediocrity, shrugging and leaving it at that.

"Care to elaborate on that?" You giggled using his words against him.

"It's good, we've been like brothers since we were little kids so it's really not that big of a difference. We spent a lot of time together at my house because my dad was gone a lot so living with him is kinda familiar." You felt a pang of sympathy when he said his dad was away, you thought back to your dad and how absent he'd been. The memories cut off almost as suddenly as they'd started.

"What about your mom?" He took a deep breath, he had a slight frown on his face and you knew immediately that you'd hit a nerve.

"She died, when I was a kid. She had a type of dementia and it, killed her." He was fully frowning now, and he was no longer fully with you, his eyes had glazed over and he was staring right through you. He shook his head and came back, frown gone and a small smile took its place.

"I'm sorry, both for what happened and that I brought it up."

"It's ok, it's been a long time and it brought me and my dad really close so it wasn't all bad." His silver lining was slim, slimmer than was arguably debatable to even count as a silver lining, but you didn't argue. He'd shared enough of his past with you, and you felt honored by the confession even if you did accidentally cause it to happen by asking. The fact that he shared something with you meant a lot.

"My mom died too, she was hit by a car when I was 13 and she died in surgery." The air was tense, but Stiles' expression and morphed from fake stability to real sympathy as your eyes locked and you tried to comfort each other without words. You fell asleep shortly after that, Stiles had stayed quiet for more than five minutes and that was all it took for sleep to wave its wand and take you under it's control.

==

Screams woke you up, screams from within your dorm. They woke Stiles up too and you both sprung to get re-dressed properly, rushing out the door as soon as you'd slipped your shoes on. The screaming was coming from down the hall and you already had a sinking feeling what had happened.

It wasn't uncommon for your fellow dorm dwellers to leave their doors open, it helped circulate cool air in the desert that was California. Being born and raised in D.C left you significantly more paranoid than most of them however, and so you decided you'd rather just suffer the heat than the possibility of getting robbed blind. You'd told some people in the common room at the beginning of the year about your fear and they'd all but laughed at you, saying that nothing like that happened here. You'd never wanted to have been so wrong in your life.

One door was already wide open, and blood was smeared on several other doors, also open. It seemed that the killer had gone down the hall, checking who decided it was too hot to save their lives. The first body was in the doorway of the room three doors up from yours. It was sprawled out on the floor and you and Stiles nodded, agreeing not to go into the room considering the carpet was currently soaking up the victim's blood. It seemed there were plenty of others anyways.

Room after room, one slaughtered college student after another left you feeling ill beyond belief. You didn't need to be told what had happened, you already knew. You had never actually had the chance to see what happened when the killer was finished with their dirty work, what they did to the people they used as instruments of mass murder. Sadly it seems you didn't have to go searching to find out. At the end of the hall was another body, this time with a knife in its hand, most likely from the kitchen in the common room. Its throat was cut, much like all the other victims.

The screaming had long stopped, you assumed it came from one of the other residents who peeked out into the hallway and saw what looked like a scene from an upcoming Scream 5. Stiles was bent over the body, examining what you assumed was its deadness.

"Whatcha looking at?" He gave you a vague noise of acknowledgment before standing up and looking at you with a face slightly paler than it was before he bent down.

"I think you should see this Y/n." You squatted down next to the corpse, examining its overall lack of life and raising an inquisitive eyebrow up at Stiles.

"Look in her throat, through the cut." You'd really planned not to come this close to a corpse in your life. What's that saying? Make a plan and the universe laughs.

The throat was indeed, mostly just bloody and disgusting, but also intriguing. The windpipe and both carotid arteries were slashed straight through, a feat that was essentially impossible to do for the normal non-possessed human. In the back of the windpipe, which you could just barely see through the cut, there was a small mark. You dug your phone out of your back pocket, almost dropping it with how much your hands were shaking, and turned your flashlight on to it's brightest setting so you could see the mark clearly.

It was a small symbol, lines and swirls within a small circle that struck you as soon as you saw it. With a soft thud your ass met the ground as your precarious balancing act failed and you fell from your squatting position.

"Are you ok?" Stiles' voice was lost as your brain went into panic mode, the new found information stirring up a whirlwind of anxiety.

"We need to get out of here. Like, right now." Scrambling up from the blood soaked floor you made your way back to your dorm room, dragging a confused Stiles behind you asking a million and one questions.

Without answering any of them you grabbed your nearest backpack and started destroying your dorm room in an attempt to gather all of your most important belongings, a mix of underwear, clothes, and books thrown into your worn backpack.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me or do I get an explanation for why we need to leave your dorm room? Y'know other than the murdered college students..."  Stiles had passed the stage of being thoroughly confused by you, that ship sailed when you fought off the vine that attacked you both. Now however, he was fed up with not having answers to the predicament you now found yourselves in.

"Can I explain it to you in the car? We need to leave ASAP."

"The car has a name, it's Roscoe." You rolled your eyes, of course he named his car, and of course now is the best possible moment to tell you.

"Less talking more walking please."

"Sorry." The keys jingled as he grabbed them and yours, tossing your purple keychain to you so you could lock up. You took the stairs two at a time, almost tripping over Stiles in your haste to get out of the building.

The car seats were cold when you got in but you couldn't be more awake than you already were, adrenaline and fear coursing through your blood, the symbol seemingly burned into the back of your eyelids, haunting you whenever you so much as blinked. Stiles booked it out of the parking lot, Roscoe's tires making an awful screeching noise as he turned while reversing, a move that would have scared you had there not been the max amount of fear already happening.

"So, explanation." He raised an expectant eyebrow at you, biting his tongue to let you answer before he spiraled into asking questions without enough time for you to answer them.

"Uh, do werewolves have symbols for different concepts, like danger and stuff?"

"Y-yeah they do, there's one for revenge it's a spiral. Why?" A spiral, of course the supernatural weren't creative when it came to symbol differences.

"Ok well witches do, it's called the witches' alphabet, it's a few symbols they mean stuff, the one we just saw in the corpse was the symbol for revenge. It's used to channel the chosen energy into whatever magic you cast." Your voice was shaking, the lack of oxygen in your system making you feel light headed, or maybe that was the endorphins, who knows.

"Ok, so what does that mean?" Stiles was shaking as well, not liking the sound of any more revenge business. He had to deal with this once before, he didn't want a repeat supernatural problem.

"It means that whoever cast the spell is one, vengeful, two, meeting the victims beforehand to get the symbol on them. This is bad, like, really bad." You had to actively sit on your hands to stop their fidgeting, the nervous energy bubbling inside your body like a volcano.

"Just what we need, a witch who wants vengeance. Was a normal evil witch not enough?!" Stiles' comment made you chuckle, the breathy act brought a twitch of a smile to his face, your happiness spreading to him in the midst of your crisis.

"Apparently not. Where are you going, the dorms are the opposite way."

"I don't know, I didn't want to take you back to Scott until I knew what was going on so I kind of just started driving around." Had you not been stressed beyond belief at the moment you would have been endeared by Stiles' care for his friend and roommate, but at the moment it was just irritating.

"You just drove us in the middle of the night down a street you have no idea where it leads? Really Stiles?! Take us to Scott, now." You were fuming but upon seeing the dejected look in Stiles' eyes at your harsh tone you were reminded as to how hard this entire situation must be for a normal human, werewolf pack member or not.

"Please. Could you please take us to Scott." Your manners had escaped you for a moment but with the regaining of your senses they came back.  A pang of guilt struck you at how mean you'd been to the brunette next to you. Reaching out for his hand which was resting on the stick-shift you hoped silently that he would accept your unspoken apology. He did accept, a blush rising to his cheeks at the skin-to-skin contact that you initiated and a smile creeping on his face.

Moments after your mutual flush and giddiness over the contact Stiles pulled up into the parking lot of his own dorm, the tar lit up just barely by a floodlight near the sidewalk. Unwinding his fingers from yours he was the first to get out of the car, you following shortly after, the cold air hitting your bare shoulders per your tank top which you just now realized was covered in blood.

Rushing to Stiles' side you wrapped your arms around your torso to try and cover the evidence of your dorm's activities, only to realize that your arms were the source of the problem. A mix of various people's blood was coating your arms, the red solution drying crusty on your skin. Thankfully it was the middle of the night, the darkness mostly covering your blood-stained everything.

Looking over at the mole-covered man next to you you took in the sight of him, surprisingly not covered entirely in blood. He had spots of it on his hoodie, only barely visible thanks to the floodlight, but he'd managed to stay clear of the mess, something you were currently jealous of. You wouldn't be able to take a shower until you were back in your own dorm and you were really dreading the idea of having to wash off both of your arms in the small dorm sinks.

Stiles opened the door for you and the heat influx from the building was a welcome change, the goosebumps immediately vacating your skin. You both headed up to his dorm in relative silence, trying not to wake his neighbors up. It was a harder feat than it should have been, given how often Stiles almost tripped on the single flight of stairs up to his shared room.

You could hear snoring coming from one of the beds, presumably Scott's, and the embarrassing situation you'd found your friend in made you momentarily forget your current predicament. In the darkness you could see two bodies in Scott's bed, the smaller one of which you assumed was Allison, tucked under her boyfriend's arm. They were sleeping so peacefully you almost felt bad to wake them, Stiles however, did not. With a loud enough greeting and the swift act of turning on all of the lights in their dorm, he woke his roommate and his roommate's girlfriend up with a startle.

"Stiles! They were sleeping!" You'd wanted to put up a semblance of good will with the woman you'd met less than 24 hours ago but in reality you were stifling a laugh, biting your tongue to keep from bursting out. The couple let out groans of protest at being woken up in the wee hours of the morning but got up eventually anyways, thankfully somewhat dressed after what you were still convinced their nightly activities consisted of.

"What the hell dude?" The were-wolf's voice was groggy from sleep and the rough scratch in his throat reminded you of Stiles' voice less than two hours ago when you were woken up by screaming neighbors.

"Sorry but you really can't be asleep right now, also yes that is blood on Y/n's, well everywhere, I will explain that in a minute. Allison could you help her clean up? Scott I need to talk to you." Nodding Allison took immediate heed to Stiles' request and looked carefully for a space to lead you that wasn't covered in blood before eventually deciding 'fuck it' and grabbing one of your slowly drying arms, washing the blood off of the area in the small sink.

There wasn't a lot of space in the dorm for a private conversation but you and Allison made small talk in an attempt to give the boys some facade of privacy.

"So, rough night I guess?" She let out a small chuckle at her own joke while you allowed a smile to creep onto your face at the problem you had earlier found yourself in.

"You could say that. Someone decided it'd be a good idea to murder a solid percentage of my floor mates so, y'know, the night could have gone better." She gasped at that, the light air of the conversation having gone as soon as you brought up the traumatic events that had occurred.

"Murder? Oh God. By 'a solid percentage' you mean how many people exactly?" Your mind flashed through the bodies you'd seen, counting at least six in the haze of the night.

"Six, maybe more. I don't know for sure, it was a lot. We found who did it though, kind of." You wished that you were dealing with a normal murder where finding who did the killing actually solved your problem. Sadly, that wasn't the case and the situation was getting more and more fraught in your mind the more you stressed about it, the images and circumstances pulling the strings in your mind so tightly they were beginning to fray.

"Are you ok?" Allison's eyes were kind and you noted in the back of your brain to thank Scott that he had such good taste in girlfriends.

"Yeah, I think so. I'm not hurt or anything, just a little shaken up." She nodded silently before going into nurse-mode and scanning your now-clean left arm.

"No scratches, all of this blood seems to be someone else's. I think most of the blood is other people's but I need to wash off the other arm to be sure."

"Be my guest, I wasn't feeling the whole blood-sleeve look anyways." You shrugged and let out a small giggle at your own joke, Allison following suit as she lathered up the ruined washcloth for another round of scrubbing.

You were in the process of cleaning the blood from underneath your fingernails when Stiles and Scott crept up behind you, interrupting the light bonding that you had started with Allison.

"Ok, we need to get out of here and go back home, right now." Scott took on more of a dominant personality when in charge and it made you glad that someone knew what to do, even if you didn't. You'd already grabbed spare clothes from your dorm room so you and Allison waited by the door nervously while Stiles and Scott scrambled to gather their most important belongings.

"Where is home?" You knew where you were from and where your home was, but you doubted that everyone would be game for catching a flight at almost 4 a.m.

"Beacon Hills, it's where we all met. Stiles and Scott are from there, so is most of the pack, I moved there sophomore year. The pack started in Beacon Hills, the town is like a beacon for the supernatural, it's probably the safest place to be because it's home territory, Scott's pack has been protecting it for years now."

"So Scott's the alpha?" It made sense given his natural leadership abilities and his friendliness, but it was still a little odd to see your friend as the strongest were-wolf out of the entire group you saw the other night.

"He's a true alpha too." You'd heard of true alphas, mostly by myth however, they were rare but the more you thought back on Scott's character the more it made sense. He was easily one of the most loyal people you'd met, and he was brave as well, fighting for people he didn't even know, or people he didn't know well. He was willing to risk his life to save the barista on the day of that attack, even willing to let her see him shift, it was only logical that he was a true alpha.

Your conversation was interrupted as it took all of five minutes for the two best friends to pack their things, swing the backpacks stuffed full of items over their shoulders before they led the way back down to the Jeep that was parked out front.

The ride was quiet and tense, Stiles in the front with you and Scott in the back with Allison, explaining the specifics of the situation that you had purposely left out because you didn't know how to explain it without making a joke out of it. Dark humor was quickly becoming your most solid coping mechanism for morbidity.

Scott went to protect Allison as she ran up to her dorm to grab her things as well, insisting that she tell her roommate she was going home so no one would file a missing person's report and make the entire situation more complicated.

She came back downstairs quickly, Scott in tow looking noticeably dazed as he held on to his girlfriend's hand when she plopped in the back of Stiles' Jeep. You let out a snort at what had most likely been a 'our lives are in danger' make out and let them have their secrecy as Stiles started up for what was the drive to Beacon Hills.

[chloroformthelittleb4stard]

Family Relations - Part 3

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

T/CW: Violence, not kidnapping but Stiles takes reader to a place she doesn't know and doesn't like 100% get her consent for it but also she's not upset about it, oh! and one cheeky sexual implication at the end

A/N: I'm about 90% sure I'm slipping into a depression slump and I won't be able to get it fixed for at least another month, so my update schedule - not that I have one - might be a little longer than usual.

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Late night walks weren't unusual for you, you liked clearing your head before you went to sleep and you found that nature was always one of the best ways to do so. You'd been enjoying yourself in peace and quiet when an obnoxiously loud jeep started heading your way, the headlights glaring at you and the muffler failing to do a lot of muffling. You were waiting for it to pass but instead it stopped next to you, Stiles' head popping out of the drivers' side window.

"Y/n? What are you doing out so late?" You ran over to his side, the cool air making the metal of his car freezing to the touch.

"Taking a walk." You hummed, inspecting the vehicle and finding that it was painted blue with a special addition of duct tape on pieces that looked like they should be considered a safety hazard.

"It's 11:00 at night?" The moon shone brightly above you, a cloudless sky making it perfect for a nice outing.

"I like night walks."

"You shouldn't be out alone at night, it's not safe." Suppressing the instinct to tell Stiles that it only wasn't safe for people who couldn't break your bones without touching someone, you gave him a shrug and started walking away. His hand grabbed your wrist lightly, stopping you from continuing your stroll.

"No way. I am not letting you walk around at night on your own. Hop in, I'll drive you home." You gave him a pout and he got out of the car, hand still holding your wrist, to open the passenger door for you. As the door shut, a large gust of what felt like wind pushed the car to the side, the vehicle's wheels screeching in protest as a wide but shallow dent was made along the driver's side.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Stiles' complaints were loud enough for all of California to hear them but you were more focused on what just caused the dent. Getting swiftly out of the car, despite Stiles' protests, you stood in front of it, waiting for something else to happen.

You got your wish when a large vine made its way out of the thick of the brush and straight towards you and Stiles. Within a split second you were in action, bringing up a hand to create a shield, temporarily blocking the vine while your brain worked overtime to think of a way to defeat the plant.

"Stiles!" You called out to your friend, his voice replying from what sounded like miles behind you but in reality he was simply a few feet from where you were standing.

"I need you to duck!" You hoped your yelling was reaching him and you got confirmation when you heard a loud and broken 'what?!' in response to your request.

"Just do it ok, you have to trust me!" With that he called out a hesitant affirmative and you let the shield down for a split second to send a blade of air slicing through the vine, cutting it directly down the center as it fell to the ground. You held the shield up again for another five minutes, waiting for the enemy to return, when you had no response you let it down and quickly went to seek Stiles.

He was crouched behind Roscoe, shaking only slightly with adrenaline and a twinge of excitement. When he heard you call his name he stood up, spooking you accidentally by popping into your line of sight so suddenly.

"Are you ok?" You rushed to as a question before he asked the inevitable one of 'what the fuck is going on?'.

"I'm fine. Are you ok?" His hands were roaming your body, checking for injuries of any kind as he patted down your arms and tilted your head up to look underneath your jaw. You nodded, putting his fretting on pause for now.

"Now you're definitely coming with me." His words were surprising, he didn't even ask what you were or what you did, although knowing a werewolf will do that to you, you supposed. You drove in silence for about three minutes before you couldn't take it anymore, the lack of noise made you want to explode.

"Stiles where are you taking me?" He shook his head and made a zipping motion on his lips, signaling that he wasn't going to give you any information. He was shaking, buzzing with the need to tell you that he was taking you to his pack because that's what he does when these kinds of things happen, but he refrained from it because he knew his chances of actually getting you there would deplete greatly if he gave you even a hint of his plan.

"So, nice car..." He hummed in response, biting his tongue so he wouldn't spoil his mission. You frowned at the lack of communication and slumped back in your seat, head turned to watch as the city scenery whizzed past you.

When the ride was finally over you found yourself in front of an old townhouse, shut off and condemned what you were sure was 100 years ago. Its front was covered in ivy, the windows blocked from the flora that had conquered the structure. One step to the door was broken, the wood split straight through due to some unlucky bastard's step.

"Stiles where are we?" You asked as he opened your door for you, grabbing your hand immediately once you stepped out so you wouldn't escape. Stiles opted to ignore your question entirely and instead led you towards the door of the ancient home, and into its rickety structure. The halls were dark but he managed to sift his way through, muscle memory guiding him, and effectively you as well, towards the door that led to the basement.

He held your hand down the stairs before knocking on yet another door, this time metal, in the basement. When the door opened you had to adjust to the flash of light, taking his opportunity Stiles quickly dragged you into the middle of the pack meeting, standing next to you in the center of the circle.

"Y/n meet my pack, pack meet Y/n." His introduction was vague, but in his defense he was still shaken up by almost being smashed by a vine. Scott was beyond shocked when he saw you standing in the middle of the circle, and you gave him a sheepish wave, one hand still death gripping Stiles'.

"What is she doing here?" Derek cried out, standing to assess your threat level. Stiles pressed a hand to the older man's chest, pushing him away lightly to protect you, even if Derek could overpower him in less than a minute flat. Taking the hint the elder werewolf sat down next to Issac, who was, as usual, wearing his classic scarf and leather jacket.

"Well we were just attacked-"

"Attacked? Oh my god are you ok?" Allison jumped right into nurse mode cutting off Stiles completely, immediately getting up and scanning you for bruises, foregoing an introduction, before moving on to Stiles who waved her off animately.

"Yeah we are, but that's because Y/n did this whole forcefield thing and she told me to duck so I didn't see it but she sliced the vine and it was kind of awesome." Stiles' rambling brought the whole pack up to speed while you stood in the middle of all of them, looking understandably nervous. Your eyes kept flitting from Scott to Stiles, the only two people in the room you knew whatsoever.

"So, what are you?" A ginger spoke up from her perch on a bookshelf, eyes coming to meet yours with a look that screamed that she was on the defensive, despite not having been attacked.

"I'm a witch. I'm assuming that you're all werewolves?" You scanned the eyes of the participants, trying to catch sight of a glint in one of their eyes. When you saw none you internally shrugged before returning your attention to the group before you.

"Can I sit down now or do I have to stand like an exhibit this whole time?" Your nerves didn't stop your annoyance at the situation, you never liked being the center of attention. Stiles squished himself into the side of a chair, patting the spot next to him. You looked around the room trying to find another option, not that you didn't want to sit in his lap, you wanted to sit in his lap doing so many things, you just didn't want it to be weird. Upon seeing no other option you squeezed yourself in next to Stiles, who looked generally very happy considering an arm rest was most certainly digging into his ribcage.

"We're not all werewolves, I'm a banshee and Kira," The ginger pointed to an asian girl sitting next to another girl who looked amazingly uninterested at the entire event.

"Is a kitsune." Kira waved at you, smiling brightly and nudging the girl next to her so she would pay more attention.

"I'm Malia, and a were-coyote. Everyone else is a were-wolf though you're right." She went back to scrolling through her phone and disengaging from the conversation. You took in the information around you, nodding and trying to remember the names that were given. Stiles put his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to lean into him for a source of comfort.

"Well, anyways, we were just talking about the deaths that have been happening on campus and-"

"Are we seriously just going to ignore the fact that a witch just walked into our pack meeting? Is that something I'm supposed to not comment on?" A younger boy sitting on the couch spouted off and you snorted at his words. You were starting to like some of the people here, even if you didn't know their names.

"Hey kid," The boy stared at you before pointing at himself to confirm and you nodded your head.

"What's your name?" He made a vindictive gesture towards you before answering.

"Thank you! That's the kind of thing you do when you meet new people. My name is Liam, this is Derek because he won't tell you his name otherwise, he's moody." Liam pointed a thumb in the direction of the man next to him on the couch who was scowling at his words.

"The banshee is Lydia, and the guy who wears scarves all the time is Issac. Oh, and that's Scott's girlfriend Allison, she's not a were-wolf either she's human like Stiles." After listing off the names of several pack members he sat back in the couch triumphantly, looking over at everyone to see what they planned on doing.

"As I was saying, we just went over the attacks happening on, and apparently off, campus. Do you think this is magic Y/n?" You were pulled out of your head by Scott's question and you shook your head briefly before answering.

"I don't know what else it would be but I can't be sure. I've never heard of a spell or power that makes someone a killer out of nowhere." Your magical knowledge was limited to self defense mostly, something you picked up and perfected back in your hometown. You also had a significant extent of offensive knowledge which you picked up from watching other witches' attacks on you, but it was mostly theoretical.

The room feel quiet and the air became tense as everyone else looked at one another, like there was a joke you weren't in on. Finally Kira broke the silence.

"I don't want to bring this up as much as you don't but we all know this reminds us of the nogitsune." The room fell silent again and you tried to search through your brain for any knowledge you'd have on the unfamiliar word. When you came up empty you sighed, Stiles taking note and looking to see if you were ok.

"Sorry to be so out of the loop but, what's a nogitsune?" This time there was a collective sigh as they all looked at Stiles, waiting for him to explain as much as he wanted about his past with Void.

"It's a spirit, it feeds off of pain. It's immortal unless you kill it, which we did, and it can possess people. When we dealt with it last time it ended up killing a lot of people-"

"It almost killed me." Allison interrupted, clutching her stomach where you assumed there was a nasty scar commemorating the encounter.

"It ended up killing a lot of people with a sword, kind of like with these last few attacks." He finished, looking away and purposely avoiding eye contact as he said it.

"What are you not telling me?" With potential murderers on the loose you had no time for bullshit, and you knew that whatever Stiles said wouldn't phase you, not after tonight.

"It can possess people..." There was dead silence as everyone waited for Stiles to continue.

"It possessed me, and then it looked like me. It did a lot of things with me, it's a long story but that's kinda the gist of it at least." He looked deflated to be bringing up his past and you wrapped an arm around his back in support, rubbing his arm to comfort him and show him that you weren't upset. He turns to you with a hesitant smile, happily surprised at your lack of fear like you weren't just told that at one point a murderous spirit had possessed him.

"Ok, so the nogitsune sounds like our culprit but you killed it. So, what's up with that?" You heard Lydia mutter something about you being obvious and you chose to ignore it in favor of looking around the room to gauge their reactions to your question. The only one who looked slightly worried was Kira, so naturally you asked her your next question.

"Are you sure you guys killed it?" You were directing the question at Kira and she stiffened upon hearing it, sitting up straight as a board.

"Yes we are. Can we move on now?"

"I mean..." Everyone was once again quiet as Kira spoke up, voicing her opinion on the dark version of the spirit that she had.

"We don't know if it's dead. You can't really know, but we did a pretty good job and I don't think it'd have enough power to come back so soon. Again though, I can't be sure." Upon her information Scott stood up, collectively grabbing everyone's attention.

"Ok, does everyone have all their theories out?"

"What about voodoo?" Liam piped up while Scott muttered something that sounded like 'evidently not'.

"Vodou can't do that. Spirit possession isn't evil in Vodou, and actual Vodou dolls can't control people, especially not ones that're alive. I would say maybe it's a zombi but again, the perpetrators were living when it happened. Besides, there's no reason a Vodou practitioner good enough to pull this off would have any interest in murder, they have enough to deal with. Vodou is a practice, not the supernatural." While his idea was deflated Liam looked content with your answer and was prepared to listen to Scott, finally.

"Ok so for theories we have, nogitsune, and witch. Any other suggestions?" Scott gave the room a minute to start talking before he moved on, tired and wanting to get some sleep before the sunrise which was only in a few hours.

"Ok, Kira can you find all that old research we did on the nogitsune? Allison go back to Beacon Hills with Derek and Liam and look through the bestiary to see if we can get any information on witches-"

"Hey!" You interrupted, loudly proclaiming your lack of involvement in witch-related studies.

"Witches who want to kill people Y/n, not you. I think our best bet is the witch idea, unless it's something new entirely, then we'd be..."

"Fucked?" Isaac finished Scott's sentence for him, the action making Scott roll his eyes before returning to his speech.

"Alright, everyone be on the lookout ok? We're done here, let's go home everyone." Allison stood up from behind him as he finished, hands still intertwined. You got the feeling that Allison and Scott wouldn't be very vigilant tonight.

"So, home?" Stiles stood next to you after you both managed to maneuver out of the chair. You nodded and went with him out to the jeep, the night air making you freeze. You shivered when your back touched his car seats and he frowned, reaching behind him to feel around his back seat.

"Should I ask what you're doing?" You chuckled, arms wrapping around yourself to conserve body heat. Stiles triumphantly pulled a large piece of clothing out from his backseat making a victorious noise as he did so before handing it to you. Upon further inspection you realized that it was a hoodie and you thanked him while putting it on. It was big on you, the sleeves coming down over your hands to make little sweater paws and Stiles almost cooed at seeing how cute you looked. You tucked the hood under your head to serve as a neck rest and you closed your eyes as Stiles drove off to the address you listed.

[chloroformthelittleb4stard]

Family Relations - Part 2

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

T/CW: Blood, gore, panic attack mention, violence

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You didn't see Stiles for another two days, but when you did see him, he wasn't alone.

"Y/n! Over here!" Stiles called you from across the quad, despite the almost murder college life hadn't slowed down much at all, and your local coffee shop was still swamped with people. Instead of leaving your place in line to see Stiles and the tan man next to him, you beckoned them over to you, indirectly inviting them for coffee as well.

Stiles shuffled up next to you, still not use crutches, and dragged Scott along with him, introducing you both immediately.|

"Scott this is Y/n, Y/n this is Scott." You both shook hands and exchanged greetings, a comfortable small talk taking over the three of you. You'd been so close to getting your sweet iced tea when a blood curdling scream rang out from the shop. Everyone ran towards it, including you, Scott, and Stiles, but when the general population saw the body of a barista, throat slit and bleeding out onto the counter still holding someone's drink, they ran away. Another scream came, this time from behind the "employee only" door and you all looked at each other before running towards it. Stiles burst through first, taking off seconds later to round the corner with you and Scott not far behind. You barely avoided running into one another as Stiles stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a man, possibly a college senior, holding a knife to the throat of a crying barista who couldn't have been older than 19. She cried out to you three and immediately you all sprung into action.

Without a second thought Stiles grabbed the nearest object, a wooden crate, and ran towards the man who in response dropped the barista and charged at him. Scott had already transformed and was charging towards the man as well, fangs and claws out, his eyes glowing a blood red as he focused on his target. You panicked for a moment, frantically looking around for a way to help, when you caught sight of a pipe hanging above the man's head. Taking a deep breath you blocked out the scene around you, focusing only on the pipe you threw your hands forwards, sending blades of air to cut off a section of the metal which then fell just behind the man, the metal rolling forwards and tripping him into Scott's waiting claws.

Stiles at this point had backed off and run towards the barista, who was curled in a ball and crying on the floor, still bleeding slightly from where the knife had pressed into her throat. She was sobbing as he talked her down from her panic attack, a skill he had mastered by now. When she calmed down he made her promise to not tell the police what he, or his friends, looked like and she agreed, still shaken up from the entire ordeal.

On the strong possibility that you and Stiles would be suspects, having been at, as you're aware of, the only two crime scenes, you all decided that you'd simply go back to Stiles' dorm to have his watered-down coffee. The walk back was quiet, no one had seen your feat of magic and you pretended not to have seen Scott's shift, blaming the chaos and fear for your being frozen in place, which the boys believed. Stiles and Scott had comforted you the entire walk back to their dorm and you played heavily into the role of the scarred witness, leaning into Stiles' side for comfort and ignoring the warmth that spread through your body at the contact.

"I take it you're not from here Y/n." Scott assumed, head tilting in your direction as you settled into the boys' dorm for a cup of mediocre coffee.

"Nope, I'm from out East, DMV baby!" You laughed, proud of where your home was.

"DMV? No way, I wanna work out there." Stiles' eyes went wide, not paying attention to the coffee machine and almost spilling it onto his hands. Thankfully you managed to redirect it away from his hand with a small gust of wind, sparing him some nasty second degree burns.

"I kind of figured, FBI and all that." You waved your hand submissively, making Scott chuckle since you were the first woman outside of the pack who wasn't immediately taken with the fact that Stiles wanted to be a FBI agent.

"Well what do you want to do smartass?" Stiles rolled his eyes, not being used to someone who was unfazed by his career choice.

"I want to work for the ACLU in legal defense and legislation." You held your head high, the legacy of the ACLU and your family shining behind you as you were reminded of your mom's accomplishments before she passed.

"Ok I want to be a vet so I don't know what the hell you two are on." Scott's comment made you all laugh, the energy friendly and calm as you personalized your coffees to make them less plain. Stiles' cup looked almost light brown by the time he was done, it had a swirl of whipped cream on top of it and he slurped it down greedily.

"Can that even be considered coffee?" Your comment made Stiles roll his eyes, Scott having made similar ones before.

"That's what I said! He doesn't even need all the sugar, look at him he's hyper enough." Scott made an exasperated noise as he gestured to Stiles who was fidgeting as per usual and his leg was bouncing a mile a minute.

"ADHD?" You wondered aloud, a quick nod from Stiles and Scott confirming your theory which in turn caused you to mention your own ADHD casually so that Stiles hopefully wouldn't feel so called out.

"Great now you'll both be bouncing off the walls." Mutters came from Scott and you gave a snort in response, Stiles slipping his arm to lock with yours and playfully defend you of his roommate's accusations.

"She's not bouncing off the walls, look she's perfectly still!" While gesturing at you Stiles noticed your tremor, and the way you kept moving your feet in your shoes, choosing to ignore them in favor of winning in his defense of you.

You spent the rest of lunch with Stiles and Scott, milling about their dorm room while the conversation hopped from topic to topic, ending with a heated debate between you and Stiles over Star Wars and Star Trek.

"I cannot believe you're a Star Trek fan, that's so old!" You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the idea that something being old means it's bad.

"It's original! I can't watch Star Wars without thinking of Star Trek every second, they're a total rip-off!"

"That's not true! Star Wars has an entirely different plot, and they have different fights and different universes even!" Scott was banging his head against the wall, the nerd speak of his best friend and his best friend's new friend driving him absolutely insane with boredom.

"Enough! I have studying to do, or something, Stiles you have class in twenty minutes. No more nerdy stuff please." Letting out a chuckle you made your way towards the door, lingering so you could exchange numbers with them both. Stiles walked you down to the door of their building, gently holding your arm so you wouldn't leave immediately.

"I just wanted to thank you for helping me a couple of days ago, again." His hand came up to scratch at the back of his neck while he chuckled, leaning against the doorframe to take the weight off of his injured leg.

"Yeah, 'course, no problem really." A shy smile appeared on your face, the blush heating your cheeks making you tilt your head down slightly as you tried to avoid looking in his eyes for fear of giving your feelings away.

"Well, I really appreciate it. So, I'll text you?" He was still nervous, the energy around you both crackling with tension.

"Yeah, absolutely." Your eyes met his for a final goodbye as you reluctantly turned away, giving him a wave while you suppressed the grin that was threatening to overtake your face. A grin that finally came out as soon as you turned away, and didn't leave until you made it back to your own dorm, smiling like an idiot while you thought about him.

[chloroformthelittleb4stard]

Family Relations Masterlist

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

General T/CW: Violence, gore, blood, swearing, injury, death (specifically murder), medical stuff like stitches and EMTs but only briefly at the beginning, panic attack mention but again briefly at the beginning parts only

Part 1 - tagged under "Family Relations part 1" - Specific T/CW: EMTs and stitches, major character injury, implied death, attempt at choking, swearing, think that's it.

Part 2 - tagged under "Family Relations part 2" - Specific T/CW: Blood, gore, violence, panic attack mention

Part 3 - tagged under "Family Relations part 3" - Specific T/CW: Kidnapping but not really, violence but no gore

Part 4 - tagged under "Family Relations part 4" - Specific T/CW: Blood, so much blood, gore, lots of gore, body horror?

Part 5 - tagged under "Family Relations part 5" - Specific T/CW: Crying, general mentions of death (no specific characters die)

[chloroformthelittleb4stard]

Family Relations - Part 1

I got some loose inspiration from @were-cheetah-stiles's "The College Years" so if you haven't read that then I highly suggest it! It's very good.

Stiles Stilinski/Witch!Reader with some OFC characteristics thrown in for spice

Summary: Your criminology teacher is acting all kinds of weird, which is the norm, except for the part where his eyes glaze over and he tries to kill someone. Stiles, the hero he is, tries to stop your professor with little avail until he gets some unnoticeable help from you. Stiles seems to find himself with you at the location of multiple attacks, just barely making it out alive. Through the bloodshed feelings, family, and friends mix to create a perfect blend of chaos and calm.

Warnings: Mentions of choking, character injury, implied death of a minor character, EMTs and stitches and such, swearing

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Your hand is aching from the cramps of writing so many notes, your professor going a mile a minute, but making very little sense. You doodle in the margins of your college-ruled journal and stare into space, zoning out and giving up on following your professor's nonsense.

The clock ticked 5 minutes until class was over when your professor went apeshit. He stopped talking all of a sudden, standing straight as a board and looking off into the distance. He started slowly walking up through the students, eyeing each of them as he went by until he got to the row in front of you. He moved down the line until he stopped on a strawberry blonde girl, three seats to your left in the row in front of you. His hands slowly wrapped around her throat and that's when people started screaming.

People tried to pull him off of her but it was like he was glued to her skin, an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. The next tactic that people chose was to flee, they tried running out the doors but they came to see that the doors were in fact stuck and shaking on their hinges, the rattling echoing through the lecture hall. Your attention kept being drawn to a brunette, maybe 5"10 with moles scattered around his skin and eyes the color of amber.

The brunette stood, panicking for a moment like everyone else, but then sprung into action. Launching forwards he grabbed a chair and swung it towards the professor, the item stunning the man but not making him drop his grip. Your professor's attention then turned to him, eyes locking as you saw the man with moles' expression turn fearful. He ran back down to the front of the classroom and the professor followed him, eyes still glazed but now glowing with a green tint.

The man seemed to be struggling in the fight against your professor and since no one else seemed ready to help, you realized you were your classmates' last hope. You didn't want to use it but there wasn't much other choice, you focused your energy and watched as the light fixture above your professor began to swing and crack, sparks of electricity coming from where it meet the ceiling, before it came down in a large crash on top of your professor. You'd forgotten however to push your cute classmate out of the way, and you ran forwards to go check on him while the rest of your class pushed and shoved to get through the doors that were magically opened again now that the would-be murderer was down.

Walking over to the front of the room you saw your brave classmate staring at the ceiling in shock while he was clearly still processing the entire situation.

"You ok there?" Your voice echoed in the now empty room, Stiles' attention coming to rest on you. As he gaped for a moment, his mouth moving with no words, before he managed to regain some confidence.

"I uh, yeah. I mean no! Later! I-" You chuckled as he stuttered, mind moving faster than his mouth could handle and the flitting though of how glad you were that it was this boy's life that you'd saved.

"I'm not ok now but I will be later." He managed to finally articulate. Words falling out of his mouth as he continued to take in your appearance. He had no idea how he'd missed you before but damn had he been missing out. Your legs peaked out from the bottom of your jeans that you'd cuffed, socks with the words 'fuck off' printed on them peaked out from above your worn sneakers, much like his own.

"You really like Star Trek?" He questioned, pointing to your t-shirt. You laughed out loud at that being the first question he asked you, not something to do with your suddenly murderous professor or the seemingly random event of a light fixture falling from the ceiling.

"Yeah, why? You a Star Wars fan or something?" He puffed his chest out as much as he could from his position still sitting on the ground.

"And proud of it." He placed his hands on his hips and beamed as you walked closer to give him help getting up. He limped when he stood, something you noticed immediately and frowned upon realization.

"Did the light falling down injure you?" Your eyes were filled with concern for the man you'd just met, coming to scan his injured leg as he stood in front of you.

"Me? No I'm fine!" He winced as he took a step forward and you rushed to his side to help support him.

"Ok, so I might be a little bit hurt." He smiled shyly at you through his dark lashes, his tongue poking out to lick at his lips while he stared at you.

"Here sit down and I'll take a look." He hobbled over to the nearest chair upon your request, muscles relaxing as he took the pressure off his injured limb. You pulled his jeans up just slightly, exposing the ankle that had a shard of glass stuck in it. Maybe pulling down a lighting fixture wasn't your best idea. You hissed at the sight of the injury causing Stiles to glance down at his ankle, hissing as well at the sight of the glass sticking out from his skin.

"I'm sure someone called 911, an EMT should be here soon." You rolled his jeans back down to cover his injury, already hearing the faint sounds of sirens on campus.

"I'm never going to live this down." He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. You giggled at the sight and he cracked a smile despite his pain from his pride in making you laugh.

"An FBI agent in training who gets hurt by a light. I'll be a laughing stock." He was over-selling his complaints, he knew he was most likely to receive praise for his actions rather than ridicule, but he liked how you laughed at his dramatics.

"Well..." You paused, realizing that despite being in class with him all year you didn't know the cute stranger's name.

"Stiles." He filled it in for you, smiling again as he held his hand out to shake yours.

"Well Stiles, I think you're a hero. At the very least you're not a coward." You shared a laugh as the sirens got closer and the police and EMT came through the door, interrupting your moment to get to know Stiles more.

The EMT had determined that he'd need to go to a hospital, and having nothing better to do, and wanting to get to know him more, you asked if you could go with.

"Sure, I still need to learn your name." You blushed at the awkward wink he sent you while on the stretcher, being lifted onto the cot that sat in the middle of the vehicle.

You and Stiles made small talk during the trip between his vitals getting checked and the EMT disinfecting his, now stinging, wound. You reached your hand down absentmindedly when Stiles first winced at the disinfectant, and he grabbed it without a second though, squeezing tightly as more anti-bacterials were added to the open wound.

At the hospital he'd had stitches, and you both watched as they removed the small shard of glass from his skin. You'd helped quietly by pushing the glass in the direction of the doctor's hand but Stiles didn't need to know that. After the stitches and a total of three hours later Stiles was discharged and on his way back to campus with you on his arm. He'd had crutches, a precaution, and despite your suggestions he threw them in the trunk of the Uber you'd called and didn't use them at all while walking back to his dorm.

"Well here we are. Room 15, thanks for walking me to my dorm, and for going to the hospital with me, and everything else. Despite the almost-murderer professor, today didn't actually suck that much." You laughed at his statement and waved him goodbye as he limped into his dorm room to an only minutely concerned Scott.

"Who was that?" Scott asked in a sing-song voice as he took the crutches from Stiles' hand without complaint.

"That, was my guardian angel." He slumped along the door, coming to sit on the floor in a haze of your memory.

"Does your guardian angel have a name?" He heard is werewolf friend ask while digging through Stiles' wardrobe for shorts that wouldn't brush against his stitches.

"Her name is Y/n and she was with me at the hospital the whole time. Scott she's awesome, you have to meet her." He stood up gently, stumbling over to his bed to change from his blue jeans to the basketball shorts that Scott had pulled out for him, per doctor's request.

Scott rolled his eyes at his best friend's romantic nature, knowing it was probably just being there for him in a crisis that made you so attractive to Stiles. Scott didn't get a look at you, meaning he had only the basis of what Stiles' personal preferences were for figuring out what you looked like. He assumed you looked similar to a familiar ginger that had broken up with Stiles not long ago, he was wrong.