#Stiles Stilinski x male reader

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Tread Carefully ~ S.S.

Request: “Stiles x male reader, reader getting hurt trying to protect stiles from a werewolf” by anon

Word Count: 1400+

MASTERLIST

Stiles had been harboring a crush on Lydia Martin for as long as he could remember. Even longer than Scott had known about it; and that was ages. So when he actually became friends with her, he'd thought he'd had a chance.

And then she'd dated Allison.

If he was honest, Stiles really hadn't ever considered that before. I mean yeah, he knew about queer people. But every time he brought it up, people had brushed it off and dismissed it. Stiles especially just wasn't - according to everyone. So he had never thought about it, until his old crush became one of his best friends and then she was taking about it all the time. Telling him about how happy she was, and when he asked, about how she'd realized she was into women. And suddenly he realized something he'd never considered before: he'd one hundred percent had a crush on Scott when they were kids. 

He didn't tell anyone for a long time. Well, anyone but Lydia. She was a fantastic confidante and an even better secret keeper. And she was good at keeping Stiles' sexuality a secret... until he developed a crush on her brother.

Y/n Martin was very different than his sister. They were a unit, they always had been, but where Lydia leaned into expectation to make herself popular and as perfect as possible, Y/n had leaned away from it. He didn't have a lot of friends, outside of the kids in the programming club, and some people he'd met over the internet. He was the type that knew high school was stupid, and thought that made him a little bit cooler than everyone else.

Stiles thought he was awesome. Y/n was putting as little effort into school as possible, focused less on college and more on learning to program and prepping himself to just do that forever. He was smart, which meant he knew that school didn't actually teach you anything you needed to know - as long as you knew what you were heading into. He often talked Lydia's ear off about how school was just preparing you to be part of the machine of society, and rolled his eyes when Lydia tried to get him into a "better outfit" or take him shopping.

But that was actually why Stiles liked him. They had math together, and Y/n made jokes under his breath and talked about how stupid it all was, and then leaned over and gave him pointers and help with the work in a way he could actually understand. He never ran out of patience and didn't find Stiles' burst of energy or hard time focusing or burn out annoying. He encouraged Stiles and hyped him up and when he did a good job and Y/n was leaning over his shoulder grinning at him, whispering compliments to him and joking about having to reward him one of these days, Stiles couldn't help but think that all he wanted in that moment was to kiss him.

Lydia picked up on it too fast. She was at first a little hesitant, making Stiles promise this wasn't about her, because her brother deserved better than being a replacement, but Stiles promised that wasn't it. And he proved it too, even if the pining looked the same. He talked to Y/n and became friends with him and fought against werewolves and other big-bads, and they bonded over being the only two just-humans on the team, but Stiles never reached out to him to tell him how he felt. Stiles didn't want anything from Y/n that he didn't want to offer; which was sweet except Lydia wanted to see her best friend and her brother happy.

So what was she to do except play match maker?

Her butting in was helping, too. Y/n was telling her all the time now about how he liked Stiles, how well they got along, all the stuff they were doing together. About his eyes and his smile and his laugh and how brave he was. About how they made so many plans together and learned to trust each other. About how nice his voice was, and how they studied together and often fell asleep late into the night and woke up next to each other.

And yet... it took Y/n almost dying for either of them to do anything about it.

It was a shit storm like all the others they had to live through. A battle, injuries all around, and Stiles and Y/n trying to find each other because this time they'd gotten separated. It was never good when those two got separated, they were both idiots.

Something that showed more than ever when Y/n rushed into the room, saw Stiles being cornered by a werewolf, and screamed at the top of his lungs. It was a faceless beast at this point, mind controlled by a spell that a witch had cast. She was making their lives hell, and this was only the most recent of poor bastards that had been mind controlled and sent their way. The only way to break the spell was to find the object that mattered to them most and destroy it. This worked because the witch had to cast the spell on such an object, and destroying it broke the spell. But she was aware of this, so she often sent her subjects after whoever found or had the object at the moment.

And right now, that person was Y/n.

So the werewolf turned, getting on all fours and shooting after the teenager, who's eyes went wide as he turned sharply and began barreling down the hallway as quickly as he could. It was a ploy to save Stiles' life, and it was a good one, but it couldn't last forever. The werewolf swiped at him, sending him flying one way and the thing he was carrying flying the other way. Derek arrived that moment, having been tied up before, and managed to fight the creature off while Stiles scrambled onto the scene and burned the object.

It was over.

But the damage had been done.

The pack brought them to Deaton, who immediately launched into stitching the poor boy up and lathering something on him to fight infection and help him heal faster. Then they were all left to simply wait and hope Y/n would wake up. He still had a heartbeat, but shock had hit his system and he still might not make it. A lot of blood lost, a really bad concussion...

Stiles of course never left Y/n's side. Y/n woke up to the boy asleep on his little make shift hospital bed, head on Y/n's leg, holding his hand. Y/n smiled, exhausted and sore and feeling like shit, but unable to deny that Stiles still looked adorable when he was asleep. Y/n ran his hand through Stiles' hair and the boy jolted up. "Oh." He blinked sleep out of his eyes, rubbing his face and shaking his head to clear it. "Hey."

Y/n laughed. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Y/n joked. His voice croaked from disuse and he flinched. "Jesus I sound like I died."

Stiles' smile withered. "You almost did."

There was silence at that. They couldn't meet each others' eyes, couldn't pass that stiffness and awkwardness. Neither of the boys were good with silence and always tried to scramble to crack jokes or entertain or cheer up, but Stiles' bluntness had shattered that. And it was kind of nice. Vulnerable.

"Stiles," Y/n began. "I... liked you." He sighed, shoulders dropping. "Like, really really like you. And I know it might ruin everything, and I don't want you to say you like me back because I almost died. I don't even need you to say anything right now, just, know I like you. And everyone knows you've always liked my sister but-"

At that, Stiles broke. He caught Y/n's face between his hand and pulled him into a kiss. They both sighed, smiling into it, and all the unspoken things seemed to be understood without any of the words needing to be said. They often communicated like this, with just an understanding, and no need for specifics or long rants. Leaning their foreheads together, Stiles still did say one thing. "I like you too." They both laughed, and all the tension melted away from both of them.

"Maybe next time you two need to talk about your feelings, one of you doesn't need to die for it?" Lydia sassed from the doorway. The boys parted, blushing, as she tackled her brother in a hug. But all of them laughed, and for now all of them were okay, and that... that could be enough. After all, they still had a witch to kill.

-

Male Readers: @ravenpuff-oli @sortzz @fadedver

[nino-rox]

ANOMALY | CHAPTER THREE

Stiles Stilinski x Original Male Reader | M.O

Warnings : Explicit content, Teen Wolf AU, Teen Wolf x Original Male Character, Teen Wolf SPOILER ALERT, Gore.

Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Woman with curly hair is Scott’s mother. Woman with straight hair and a killer gaze is y/n’s mother - inspired by Addison Shepherd {Grey’s Anatomy} Played by Kate Walsh. Thank you for the support ! Please request for part 4 ! Also doesn’t Jackson look so hot like HELLO ?? Not proof read yet!

A loud bang woke him up; the sunlight coming through his window blinded him as he opened his eyes; it took a few seconds for him to realise.

The morning arrived slowly, the pale light filtering through the thin curtains. Your shoulder throbbed, pulling you out of sleep like an anchor. The dream—no, nightmare—lingered at the edges of your mind: the cold air clinging to your skin, the scent of wet earth and leaves, those yellow, slitted eyes watching from the dark.

You groaned, shifting onto your side, but the movement sent a sharp pulse of pain shooting through your arm, travelling all the way down to your fingertips. The ache was relentless, like something festering beneath your skin.

Dragging yourself to the mirror, you peeled off your shirt. The bruise had spread overnight—dark veins curling outward from the centre, spidering across your shoulder like cracks in the glass. It looked swollen and angry, almost as if it were growing, spreading with every heartbeat.

You brushed your fingers along the edge, hissing as pain jolted through you. The skin was feverish—hot to the touch, like it didn't belong to you anymore. There was something wrong with it, something alive.

You grabbed your shirt from the floor and tugged it back on, wincing as the fabric scraped over the bruise. It felt like the weight of the bruise had sunk into your bones, dragging you down.

Your phone buzzed from the nightstand, Maria's name flashing across the screen.

"Still alive? Or has Creepyville swallowed you whole?"

A slight, tired grin tugged at the corners of your mouth. "Barely. Already having nightmares."

Her reply was instant: "Werewolf nightmares? Please say yes."

"Just weird pain. No claws yet."

"Lame. If you grow claws, send pics immediately," she wrote.

Her humour cut through some of the weight pressing on your chest, though the ache in your shoulder refused to ease. You slipped on your shoes, grabbed your bag, and headed out the door.

The drive to school was uneventful. Beacon Hills stretched out in front of you, all quiet streets and thick woods, the kind of place that looked normal on the surface but felt... off. The bruise on your shoulder throbbed with every turn of the steering wheel, and by the time you pulled into the parking lot, you were ready to crawl back into bed.

The school building loomed ahead, old bricks and rusted metal, students milling around in clumps. You slipped through the crowd, blending in with the chaos, your hood pulled low over your face.

When you slid into your seat in AP Biology, Stiles grinned at you from across the table, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You look like death," he whispered. "Let me guess—rough night, or did you finally meet our resident monster?"

You rolled your eyes. "Something like that."

Stiles leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Careful. Beacon Hills has a way of... finding people."

You shot him a sceptical look. "And you're, what? The local monster expert?"

He grinned. "Something like that. Stick with me—I'll keep you safe."

You snorted despite yourself. "Safe from what, exactly?"

"From everything," Stiles said, as if that explained anything. "Besides, you seem like the brooding, mysterious type. You and I? We're going to get along just fine."

Before you could respond, Mr. Harris began the lecture, pacing in front of the whiteboard.

"Today, we're discussing genetic mutations—small changes that can significantly impact an organism's structure," he announced.

The words settled uncomfortably in your chest. The bruise on your shoulder pulsed, almost like it was trying to remind you of something.

"Some mutations are beneficial," Harris continued, "but others..." He trailed off, glancing around the room. "Well, not every change is for the better."

Stiles leaned over again, whispering, "Feeling mutated yet?"

"Not yet," you muttered, rubbing absently at your shoulder. "Give it time."

Class dragged on, each minute heavier than the last. By the time the bell rang, the ache in your shoulder had spread, wrapping around your muscles like a vice. You followed the stream of students out into the hallway, your steps slower, heavier.

The locker room was warm and humid, the scent of sweat and damp tile hanging in the air. You pulled off your hoodie with a sigh, wincing as the fabric scraped over the bruise.

The door swung open, and Jackson Whittemore walked in, shirt already gone, his presence filling the room like a storm waiting to break.

Every movement was deliberate and controlled, his muscles shifting beneath smooth, tanned skin. His scent—woodsy, with just a hint of spice—wrapped around you, clinging to the steam-filled air.

He glanced at your shoulder, and for a moment, the smirk slipped from his face. Something flickered in his expression—curiosity, maybe concern—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"That looks bad," Jackson murmured, stepping closer.

"It's fine," you muttered, though the words felt empty.

Jackson didn't move away. He stood close, too close, his shoulder brushing against yours. His presence was heavy, magnetic like gravity pulling you in.

Without a word, his hand rose, his fingers grazing the edge of the bruise. The light and deliberate touch sent a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the pain.

"You should get that checked out," Jackson whispered, his thumb tracing slow circles along the bruise.

"I'll live," you whispered back, though your pulse hammered in your chest.

For a moment, the air between you buzzed with unspoken tension, thick and electric.

Jackson's thumb pressed harder, dragging across your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. His gaze flicked to your lips, lingering long enough to make your heart stutter - even if only for a second.

"You should stay away from people like me," Jackson murmured, though the way his thumb lingered told a different story.

His breath was warm against your neck, his scent filling every corner of your mind. For a second, it felt like he might close the distance between you, his gaze dark and intent.

"Like I said," Jackson whispered, "it would be safer for you if you stayed away."

"Well past safe and saving," you murmured.

Jackson chuckled, the sound vibrating in your bones. "Is that so." He whispered into your ear, his breath tickling your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

But neither of you moved, and the air crackled with anticipation.

It was dangerous, reckless, and utterly stupid. You knew it would end badly, but Jackson was magnetic, irresistible, like gravity pulling you closer and closer, and you would do anything to get your mind off the pain.

Your bodies were almost touching, just a hair's breadth away, the tension between you thick and electric. Jackson's breath was warm against your neck, his scent filling every corner of your mind as he gently placed his hand on your waist, his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin.

The hot water blasting from the showers onto you was the only sound you could hear; the warmth was comforting, making you feel less alone, like someone else was there with you, protecting you from whatever was outside.

The water dripped off your skin, the warmth enveloping your body.

You couldn't help but wonder how this boy did what everyone else had failed, making you want him - even if just in the moment.

"What are you doing?" You whispered, though you already knew the answer.

"Whatever I want," Jackson murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

Your breath caught in your throat, his words sending a shiver down your spine. He pressed closer, his skin burning hot against yours. His hand trailed lower, his thumb grazing your v-line.

"Are you going to stop me?" Jackson asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"No," you whispered.

Jackson's breath was warm against your neck, his scent filling every corner of your mind as he gently placed itself on your waist, his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin.

You were trapped between the wall and his body, his hands roaming freely over your bare skin.

"Good," Jackson growled, his voice vibrating against your neck.

His lips brushed against your ear, his breath on your neck as he began to gently kiss your neck, his hands slowly moving downwards.

Your hands wandered down his muscular torso, exploring his body.

"I didn't think you'd actually want this," Jackson whispered, his voice thick with desire.

Jackson let out a low chuckle, his lips trailing down your neck.

"Who said I did?" you replied. However, you couldn't stop your body from responding, your arms instinctively snaking over his neck, drawing him closer.

"I know you do," Jackson murmured. "I can smell it on you."

The words sent a shiver down your spine, your breath hitching as his hand slid lower, hands squeezing your ass, pulling you flush against him.

A cough interrupted the moment. Both of you turned to see Stiles standing in the doorway, his face a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

"Sorry," Stiles said, though his tone didn't match his words.

Jackson stepped back, leaving you buzzing from the ghost of his touch, glancing before leaving you alone with the buzz-cut boy.

"Stiles, It's not what it looks like."

"Yeah, right. Whatever, man," Stiles muttered, though his tone didn't match his words.

Stiles couldn't help but wonder why all the hot guys were attracted to Y/N; he didn't mean that he had a crush; hell no, he's not that desperate; he's not gonna be the 4th wheel. But something about Y/N did intrigue him.

"Stiles, wait," Y/N called, running after the buzz-cut.

"What?" Stiles snapped, though he instantly regretted his harsh tone.

Y/N looked taken aback, his eyes wide and confused.

"Nothing," Y/N mumbled, looking away. Stiles was only just starting to notice the massive bruise on his shoulder, feeling a bit bad for snapping.

"No, I didn't mean—sorry, I just meant...look, I get it, okay? You and Jackson. And whatever. It's fine," Stiles said, his voice softer now, but you REALLY should stay away from him.

As Stiles completed that sentence, he noticed something else: Y/N was very … naked; a blush crept up his face as he turned around to leave - still upset by what he saw - he wanted to ask about the bruise…he wanted to worry, but it was just not the moment.

The ache in your shoulder followed you out of the locker room, heavier now, as if the memory of Jackson's touch had settled beneath your skin.

Later that evening, you made your way to the hospital; it felt colder than usual, the sterile scent of antiseptic cutting through the warmth that still clung to you from the locker room - Y/N would never admit it. Still, that little random thing greatly distracted him from his shoulder - and y/n was grateful.

Y/N mentally prepared himself to speak to his mother and "explain" the 2-foot bruise spanning his body as he walked to the reception. 

Y/N: Hello, I'm looking for Addison Shepherd, I was wondering if you knew where I could find her

Nurse: Hi. Are you sure you have an appointment with her?

Y/N: No, I'm her son, Y/N. I was hoping to speak to her if she's free

One thing Y/N never hated about himself was that his formal, polite social self could kick in no matter the situation…or the pain - while really, somewhere deep down, he wondered what made him such an excellent liar.

Nurse: She's in surgery; she'll be done in about 40 minutes; maybe you can wait? Oh, and also Y/N? You're Scott's new friend, right? I had no idea Dr.Shepherd was your mother! We're all so happy to have a woman of her calibre working with us.

Y/N Forced a smile instinctively.

Y/N: Haha, I'm so glad to hear that! She was a bit nervous about her first day here… oh, how do you know Scott?

Nurse: Oh well, he's my so—

Person: That's Scott's Mom

… the sudden answer caught both the nurse and Y/N off guard as Y/n turned towards the exceedingly familiar annoying voice.

Nurse: Jesus, when did you get here? You need to stop sneaking up like that.

Stiles: Awww … but it's my signature move. 

The buzz-cut boy said, grinning and making a pouty face, to which Y/N just shot a weirded-out look that said… "Ew… grow up."

(Author's Note: Scott McCall's mother's name is Melissa McCall)

Nurse: Anyway, I'm Melissa, Scott's mom. I'm glad to see that you're running about making friends so soon already

The lady said, smiling politely, a smile which racked Y/N with guilt as he didn't really consider the odd duo his friends… it's not that Scott and Stiles weren't great. It's just that, in Y/N's life, he grew to associate the term friendship with a relatively close and protective personal bond…Scott and Stiles…?��.they were just… classmates.

Stiles: Well, of course, he's making friends already. Look at the great crowd he hangs out with!

Stiles said excitedly, pointing to himself, a gesture that simply made Y/N feel worse for not considering him a friend…

Y/N tried, but despite being an excellent liar, he couldn't match Stiles' enthusiastic tone when he replied to the boy, which was something Melissa was quick to catch.

Y/N knew Melissa noticed it and quickly changed the topic of conversation.

"Oh, by the way, how come you're at the hospital ?" Y/N asked Stiles while shooting him a questioning look.

Internally dreading that he was stuck in this conversation after a highly awkward morning with Stiles.

Stiles: My dad is the sheriff; Scott and I are waiting for him here.

Melissa: Scott's here? 

Stiles: Yep, he's in the cafeteria 

Melissa: Oh, I should say hi, I'll see you two boys later. Stay safe!

Stiles and Y/N waved her goodbye.

After she left, stiles turned around.

"So are we gonna talk about what happened, or— Am I Pretending that I never saw you naked in the locker room with Jackson Whittemore?" Stiles asked you sarcastically.

Y/N couldn't quite figure out why Stiles would bring it up? After he already made it clear, nothing really happened. Was he upset? Was he mocking him? Either way, Y/N was not in the mood.

Stiles: Uh, Too soon to joke about it?

Y/N: …

Stiles: Got it. So what happened with the, you know…bruise the size of Texas.

Y/N: Why the hell are you so nosy?

Stiles: Because it's the size of Texas?

Y/N: …

Stiles: okay! Wow, you are not in the mood

Y/N: It's been a day.

Stiles: Right.

The two boys fell silent, the air between them heavy and awkward. Y/N shifted his weight, and the bruise on his shoulder ached with every movement.

Stiles couldn't help but keep glancing at it. As if he could see the bruise through your clothes.

"It's fine," you murmured.

"Really? Because it looks—"

"Fine," you interrupted.

Stiles frowned. "If you say so."

Y/N didn't answer, and the air between you crackled with tension.

Stiles shuffled awkwardly; not knowing what to say, he decided to 'wing it.'

"Okay," Stiles said, breaking the silence. "Then tell me about you.

"What?" you asked, justifiably confused by his statement.

"Because that's what people do. They talk about themselves," Stiles replied, grinning.

"I don't."

"Why?"

"Why are you asking me all these questions?" Y/N shot back.

Stiles shrugged. "I'm bored."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't hide the slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"So. You moved from LA. What was that like?" Stiles asked.

"Hot," you replied, deadpan.

Stiles snorted. "Yeah, I bet. Must've been a big change, though."

"Not really," you said, though the words felt empty.

Stiles cocked an eyebrow, but he didn't press. "Okay. What did you do there?"

"Stuff."

"Omg, no shit, really? Fascinating… ." Stiles shot a look at you.

"I'm not much of a social bee personally." 

—silence—

When Y/N said "he's not a talker", he did it to try and justify why he said the word "stuff" so vaguely; since he isn't used to talking so much personally in informal social settings, it didn't come easy to him to always respond in the most appropriate ways in personal conversations - But unfortunately what it came off as to Stiles was…I really, really don't wanna be talking to you."

Stiles looked a little taken aback by what Y/N said - essentially misunderstanding the meaning as "stop talking to me" - when the truth was actually quite the opposite, and the truth is that Y/N was Just slowly actually getting used to the sarcasm and constant state of "joking-need" enjoying the little conversation, he found himself wanting to get annoyed by Stiles stupid quips - it was a new feeling for Y/N, one that scared him a bit.

With a hint of sadness, giving up on speaking to you, Stiles got up from the creaky waiting room couch, "Uhm, anyway, I think I go," he said, almost coldly, turning and leaving, giving a small wave.

Y/N couldn't help but watch the boy walk away, a strange emptiness filling his chest.

(Author's note: SOS GUYS SEND HELP. I DON'T KNOW WHERE THIS IS GOING; I'M JUST WRITING AS IT COMES TO ME LIKE I'M POSSESSED BY THE FANFIC GHOST)

An arm rested on his shoulder before Y/N could spiral into his thoughts and emotions.

He looked up, his mother standing before him, a soft expression on her face.

"Mom," you murmured.

"You know, it's never good when you come to see me at work," she said, her voice gentle.

"I'm sorry."

Addison sighed. "Don't apologise. Come, I'll show you my new office."

Y/N followed her through the labyrinthine halls, past doctors, nurses and patients.

As Y/N walked through the cafeteria, he saw a familiar buzz-cut, accompanied by his taller, athletic, crooked-jaw friend and Melissa.

They were having a light and carefree conversation, smiling and laughing, and the air between them was calm and comfortable. That was until Stiles' eyes met y/n's.

Suddenly, everything froze as if time itself had stopped. For a second, all Y/N could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat echoing in his ears. All he could see was the look on Stiles' face—that mixture of surprise and hurt, his mouth open slightly, as if he was going to say something, say hi.

But y/n didn't give him a chance. He didn't like how Stiles made him feel so on edge and overly concerned for someone he hadn't considered a friend; he wasn't used to feeling so...restless.

Without a word, y/n turned and walked away, the ache in your shoulder heavier than before, his gaze lingering like a ghost on your skin.

— Stiles — POV—

I think he really hates me, Stiles thought to himself as Y/N coldly walked by.

"Oh, there's Y/N and his mom, too, Scott. Why don't you go invite Y/N over for dinner tonight ?" Melissa chimed in, noticing both the boys look towards y/n.

Scott: I mean, sure, but what if he says no?

Melissa: he seems like a nice guy, and his mother is right there; I doubt you'll get a no.

Stiles: Oh, I'm so coming too. Where's my invite?

Melissa: Coming? Coming where you already basically live in my house

Stiles: Are you asking me to move in? <3 

Scott: NO, NO, SHE IS NOT, AND you can come. I'll go ask Y/N.

Stiles watched Scott follow Y/N out of the cafeteria as they turned the hallway, wondering what the boy would do. Would he casually approach the man and ask him, or would he just stand awkwardly?

Scott saw Y/N enter an office and start stalking; not wanting to interrupt, he decided to wait outside the room; though he felt like he was eavesdropping because of his werewolf super hearing, it just couldn't be helped; he couldn't really "turn it off" on a whim.

Y/N's POV —

After walking out of the cafeteria, I sighed deeply, which made my mother shoot me a questioning look.

"I'm just tired, the packing, the moving, the having no social battery left, nothing out of the ordinary." I quickly said, hoping my mom wouldn't press too hard about it because I didn't have the energy to deal with it.

"So this is the new office, not as big or fancy, but it's warm, isn't it."

The walls were a bright white, a large desk and chair sat at the far end, and a large bookshelf full of textbooks and medical journals sat behind it.

Despite the cold air conditioning, the room had a comforting and warm vibe.

Addison: Apparently, the hospital has been kind to me. Apparently, I have a reputation.

Y/N: HA That you do. And kind? I could fit two cars into your previous office.

Addison: You, young sir, must learn to be grateful for the little things.

Y/N: Yes, yes, WE KNOW.

y/n chuckled, pulling his T-shirt off abruptly; unbeknown to him, a curious Scott could see and hear everything from outside.

Addison: oh wow. What is THAT, a bruise? And a big one.

Y/N: Umm, yeah, it kinda appeared, no big deal.

Addison: No big deal? It's quite literally a 'BIG' deal. And how did you manage to get yourself into this?

Y/N: Well, I kinda don't know… I just got home and went to bed, I had a horrible nightmare, and I woke up, and this colossal mark was here, so I think maybe I was sleepwalking or something? I don't know, really, but yeah…

Addison: Are you sure it was sleepwalking? Tell me more about the nightmare. 

Y/N: I - I-Don— I don't know. It felt real, like I was awake or something. I was in bed, but then I wasn't... I was in the woods. I know it's not real, or I think it isn't because I remember the pain and getting caught in a bear trap, but I'm fine. However, there was something there when I was caught in the bear trap. It was, I don't know, this sounds crazy, it was … I don't know … it was a monster? It looked almost human, reptilian, kinda like the lizard man from Spider-Man. I KNOW, I KNOW, IT SOUNDS CRAZY, but it attacked me. My whole body couldn't move or breathe, and this is where it gets weird when I supposedly "died"/or rather "woke up" from the nightmare I was in the room, but where that ..thing… attacked me … I had this huge bruise. And I know this sounds like a cock and bull-bullshit story, but I swear I'm not lying.

Addison: Well, you are right about it. It sounds crazy, but I trust you. You know there's a thing called Phantom pain.

Y/N: MOM, I didn't imagine the pain. It's real! I have a bruise!

Addison: Oh honey, it stemming from something in your head doesn't mean it's any less real, or painful. Sometimes, when our body goes through a traumatic experience, it can leave this sort of "lasting pain." When someone gets their leg amputated, they feel a lot of extremely real pain in their "leg", the leg that's not even attached - despite this, their body produces actual pain and chemicals biologically, so the pain is very real. I'm no expert on Sleep studies, I'll have you shown to someone in a week or so, but my best guess is that the nightmare, which could have been caused by a thousand reasons like stress from moving and this and that probably inherently was traumatic enough for your body to "read it/ experience it as real pain" so even if it happened in your dream, it was damaging enough to your psyche for it to physically manifest as an actual bruise.

Y/N: So what I'm hearing is I need a shrink.

Addison: Honey, you'll realise this when you grow up, everybody needs a fucking shrink…Now I have to get back to work. I'll write you some meds for the pain, and to help it heal, don't physically exert yourself. That includes, you know, things with other people. 

Y/N: Trust me, girls aren't exactly lining up for dates right now, so you don't need to worry about it.

Addison: Aww, I love you, baby.

Y/N: Love you too.

When Y/N was done with his mother, a tall boy stood there waiting for him. It was Scott McCall.

Y/N: Uhh, Hello, Scott...

Scott: Hey, sorry, I was just waiting for you.

Addison: Who's this?

Scott: I'm Scott McCall, I am in a couple classes with your son and we were talking earlier I was just wondering if y/n wanted to come over for dinner?

Y/N: oh, umm, yeah, that sounds nice, but I wouldn't want to impose.

Addison: Oh, nonsense! He would love to come over for dinner, and it's always lovely for Y/N to make friends, isn't that right?

Y/N: MOTHER: I have friends.

Addison: Sure, baby, and that reminds me, when was the last time you called them

Y/N: Why does everyone in this world have it out for me

Addison: Mhm.

Scott: Well, that sounds great! We're leaving in 10 minutes. Can I drive you?

Y/N internally sighed. There was no winning today. Maybe Destiny just really wants Y/N to hang out with these two boys…FUCK.

THANK YOU FOR READING ! Please Like for Next Part ! Lots of Love - Nino

[gatorbites-imagines]

I recently started reading about werewolf stiles and I was wondering if you could do a werewolf stiles x male reader, please and thank you

Werewolf Stiles Stilinski x male reader

Headcanon

Ive never read too many werewolf Stiles fics, as I mainly read Spark Stiles stuff, but its an interesting idea, so I hope you enjoy this.

It’s been a while since I watched the show, so there might be parts about werewolf culture I forgot.

There are many ways Stiles could have been bitten, but lets assume its later on after everything with the Nogitsune and the chimeras. Its most likely Scott that bites him to save his life or something like that.

Because he killed people as the Nogitsune, and maybe other times I can’t remember, he would have blue eyes instead of yellow. Since he has so much experience with other people being bitten, he’s probably more on top of his own transformation.

If it was in the show, there would probably be a whole plot about Stiles becoming something else when he was bitten, because its Stiles, why wouldn’t he. But let’s just say the transformation went as it was meant to go.

Hes still is loud sassy self, but with a lot more wolf and dog jokes. You have to expect to hear the joke about you putting him in a collar at least once a week, or making him sleep in the doghouse.

Stiles struggles with his new urges and senses for a while, especially how much how loves your scent and can’t seem to get enough of you. Even before his bite, Stiles was a clingy lover, but afterwards it gets even worse.

He doesn’t even seem to notice he does it. Stiles will hang out at your place and splay across your bed, burying his face into your sheets and pillow and roll around. Or you go to his place, where he absentmindedly makes you wear his clothes to get his scent on you.

Stiles notices how he wants you provide for you more, it starts out small like bringing you small snacks or letting you borrow his jacket, but it becomes bringing you a whole ass deer after a full moon, much to the pack’s entertainment.

You are his person, if that makes sense. If he’s losing himself during a shift, he thinks about you to get himself back under control. Just the idea of hurting you makes his entire body and soul ache, and it’s the last thing he would ever want to do.

That might also result in Stiles hiding away from you the days before a full moon, just in case, as his needs and urges get stronger and stronger. Let’s just say he’s had to buy a lot of new pants as his claws keep tearing holes in his usual ones, as he has to grip his thigh from doing anything.

Has caught himself almost biting you on multiple occasions, like if you guys are cuddling or getting a little more intimate and Stiles finds himself scraping his teeth across your neck. His instincts howl for him to bite and mark you, but he’s so terrified of the idea that he almost falls out of the bed.

Stiles being Stiles would bury himself in research to try and understand why his urges are so God damn strong, as other wolves he’s met haven’t been so bad when it comes to their lover.

He ends up having to tuck his tail between his legs and go to other members of the pack with more experience, most likely Derek, or Peter, as his research doesn’t end up with much.

Peter would have a good laugh at his situation, and Derek would just raise a brow with a small “huh, makes sense” much to Stiles’s annoyance.  He ends up getting the werewolf version of the birds and the bees, and the whole talk about true mates, and he ends up sitting in his car just thinking this all sounds like one of those trashy werewolf romance books.

Assuming you are an average human, it would take a bit for Stiles to tell you, and you probably have to force it out of him cuz he’s avoiding you. Stiles again being Stiles, would feel like he doesn’t deserve you or that you can do so much better, so he doesn’t wanna force a bond on you.

He needs reassurance that you still love him, especially after he’s become a werewolf. After a long talk, Stiles returns to his lovable clingy self, but he won’t allow himself to bond you until you guys get older, even though he truly wants too.

I can imagine it gets so bad that he wears something like a tooth guard so he can’t accidentally bite your neck in the heat of the moment, cuz he wants you both to build your careers or educations before you get “wolf married” as he calls it.

During a full moon, he also always finds himself by your place, be it crawling in through your window or just hovering in the shadows nearby. You gets used to the feeling of him watching you when he’s wolfed out, and you’ll easily find his glowing blue eyes when you learn where to look.

Like I said earlier, a scent beast. You’ll cat him snuffling and sniffing you on the regular, and it probably reaches the point he can smell the changes in your hormones, so if you ever feel a little hot under the collar you just know he’s gonna smell it too.

After being bitten he also gets more comfortable with his body and appearance, since running around during the full moon ends with him naked more times than he doesn’t. The bite also made him muscle up, at least somewhat, which he appreciates too.

When his old flannels don’t fit on him anymore cuz of the sudden growth spurt, he gives them all to you to wear or do with as you please. If they fit, that’s the easiest way to make him buckle for you.

All in all, he’s still as much of a sweetheart as if he wasn’t a werewolf, now he just has a lot of new urges and instincts that catch him off guard every now and then. Stiles would always carry some guilt for mixing you deeper into the supernatural world, even if you were already part of it, but he also can’t ever imagine living without you.

So, make sure to reassure him that you love him and will stay by his side. If you end up some kind of supernatural being too, the guilt lessens, but its Stiles were talking about, he’s always got some kind of thing going on.

[bagerfluff]

can I request stiles stilinski x male reader

take place way after void has been defeated

plot new student joins the school and he very tall muscular leather wearing bad boy who stiles become whipped for reader ask stiles out and stiles agrees all to excitedly but scott doesn't like nor trust reader you know how stiles usually the paranoid one well this time stiles is not but Scott is you know when Scott get paranoid it bad real bad Scott is having a full on paranoid panic attack that because he can't sense what reader is but Scott know reader not human leading Scott to believe reader is the most dangerous thing Scott and the pack has ever encountered and Scott just suppose to let his best friend be hang around reader absolutely not so imagine Scott reaction to stiles telling him that stiles and reader are going on a date alone all by themselves at night --------- reader is a hybrid between a demon and a hellhound and a nogistue

reader father is a hybrid between a demon and a hellhound reader mother is a nogistue like void

Your wish is my command and I hope I fulfilled your wish. If you wish for a part two tell me and I might do it.

The New Kid

Stiles Stilinski x Male Reader

Set after season three

Stiles sighed as he entered Beacon Hills High School. He had stayed up all night studying for a test that he was ninety percent sure he was going to fail. So Stiles was half asleep as he walked over to his locker where Scott was already there. Waiting for Stiles. But he was looking behind him. “Hey Scott” Stiles yawned as he opened his locker. “Hey Stiles,” Scott said, looking over at Stiles but still glancing over his shoulder. “Who are you looking at?” Stiles asked, looking over Scott’s shoulder. I'm not waiting for Scott to answer him. When Stiles eyes landed on who Scott was looking at, Stiles eyes widened, and he blushed.

He was looking at Y/n. You were new to Beacon Hills. Having moved in a few months ago and joining the high school student body a couple of weeks ago. Y/n was given the name as the ‘bad boy’ by the students. You were pretty tall and muscular despite not being on the lacrosse team. He also wore black leather jackets and jeans. Y/n was kind of a loner because almost everyone was scared of him. Stiles for him hot. Ever since Stiles first saw Y/n. He was in Stiles math class, so he saw you almost every day. “Why are you looking at him?” Stiles asked once he was done gawking at you and looking back at Scott. Who was  still looking at you.

Scott had been watching you ever since you came to the school. He’d watch you whenever he got the chance. His eyes squinted as he basically glared at you. “I don’t know,” Scott said as he started to walk to his first class. As not to be late. Stiles quickly shut his locker and ran to catch up to Scott. “I just get a bad feeling from him,” Scott said as he stopped right outside his classroom. “But he didnt’ do anything,” Stiles said as he stopped right in front of Scott. “I just get a bad feeling from him. Might be instincts. Scott said as he entered the classroom. Stiles couldn't really argue with that. Since Scott was a werewolf, he had some sixth sense to see if someone was evil.

But you hadn’t done anything. You were acting weird. You weren’t connected to any supernatural thing that was happening. Was that what Scott was talking about? Did he sense you were supernatural? Surely not. Stiles was about to ask Scott, but the bell rang, and the teacher entered that classroom. Guess Stiles would have to ask him later.

Scott sighed as he sat in his history class. It was about halfway through the day, and Scott wasn’t really listening to anything any of his teachers have said. He was too busy thinking about you. Scott could tell that you weren’t human, You didn’t smell right. Plus, when he used his wolf sight, he saw some weird red figure around you. It looked like a wild dog mixed with a cat or a fox. Scott couldn’t really tell. Plus, the figure had horns. Like demon horns. Scott could tell from when he was near you that you were powerful. More powerful than anything he and his pack had ever faced. But what were you planning? Nothing weird or supernatural had happened in a while. Were you waiting for the right time to attack.

Were you waiting for Scott to be alone? It was even worse since Stiles seemed to validate you. Scott could hear Stiles heartbeat increased whenever you were mentioned or when Stiles saw you. Did you put him under a spell? Could you do magic? Scott didn’t know. And that scared Scott. Scott knew you were dangerous. But he didn’t know why or how. So, for now, he had to keep his friends safe. Till he could figure out what you were and what you were planning. Maybe Scott could ask Deaton what you were. Or Derek. Someone. He needed to know. But for now, all he could do was wait. And keep an eye on you. 

“So why do you think Y/n is evil?” Stiles asked Scott during lunch. Stiles was eating his lunch as Scott just looked at you. You were actually eating your lunch. Or that’s what Scott thought. Your back was facing the two boys. “I think he’s supernatural,” Scott said as he looked back at Stiles. Leaning closer to the boy and whispering so nobody could overhear them. “So that makes him evil?” Stile asked. He was confused. Just because you were supernatural doesn't mean you were evil. You hadn’t even done anything. Now that made Scott confused. Any other time, Scott said he thought someone was supernatural. Stiles would be paranoid. But now he wasn’t. Scott wondered why Stiles seemed to defend you. 

Scott leaned closer to Stiles to tell Stiles that he thought you might be the most powerful thing they had ever faced. Stiles eyes widened as Scott leaned back down and turned his head to glare at you. Were you evil? Stiles didn’t think so. You hadn’t done or said anything to make anyone think you were evil. But Scott was the werewolf, and Stiles wasn’t. So maybe Scott was right. Stiles leaned his body so he could look at you. Though Scott had told him that you might be evil, Stiles couldn’t help himself from thinking that you were hot. Your hair, eyes, face, body. Everything. Stiles sighed as he went back to eating. 

Stiles ran out the doors of the school as the bell rang. But he stopped when he heard someone call out his name. Stiles turned around, and he blushed as he saw you walking over to him. “Hey Stilinski” you said once you were close enough. “Hey L/n” Stiles said as he tried to keep eye contact. But hell, your eyes were pretty. “I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date?” You asked with a sly smile. Stiles blushed as he heard you and by that smile. Got you were hot. Stiles shook his head to remove his thought, but then quickly nodded. “YES!” Stiles yelled but was then embarrassed by how loud he yelled. You let out a little laugh at Stiles cuteness as you pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him. “Call me cutie” you said with a wink as you walked away. 

Stiles looked down at the note and smiled. But Scott was scared. You see, Scott was waiting for Stiles in his jeep. And heard your entire conversation. What were you planning? Why did you want to go on a date with Stiles? Did you want to hurt Stiles? Maybe you wanted to hurt Scott by hurting Stiles? Scott was scared. Maybe he could convince Stiles not to go. Scott was staring into space as Stiles got into the driver's seat of the jeep and placed the note in his bag. “Did you hear!” Stiles yelled at Scott. Shocking him out of his thoughts. “I’m going on a date with the hottest guy at the school!” Stiles was excited. He was going on a date with you. Tonight. The note had a phone number and a time and place for your date.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Scott asked but continued talking before Stiles could answer him. “What if he is evil? What if he’s trying to kill you?” Stiles eyes widened as he realized how scared and paranoid Scott was. Scott and Stiles stayed silent after Scott was done talking. Scott took a breath in before he continued talking “I don’t know what Y/n is, and that scares me” Stiles nodded, telling Scott to continue. And Scott did “let me at least talk to Deaton before you go on a date with him” Stiles nodded as he started the car and started to drive to Scott’s house. Maybe Scott was right? But if Stiles doesn't go on a date now, he may never get the chance to again. Surely, going on one date isn’t bad, right?

How bad could you be? How dangerous could you be? Surely, you were just a werewolf, and Scott was paranoid. Right?

[themaladpativedaydreamer]

Bad Liar

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Male Reader Genre: Fluff A/N: No one asked for it but I felt inspired so share your thoughts please. Song Inspiration: Bad Liar - Selena Gomez.

I was walking down the street the other day Tryna distract myself But then I see your face Oh wait, that's someone else

Y/n was on his way to school thinking about anything and everything except for him. Recently, he had developed a crush and a strong one too, it took everything not think about him, fantasise about him. He was doing pretty well until in the distance he saw him, before being pulled into thoughts about him. How he always wore flannel shirts and would always ride around in his old sky blue truck, suddenly a loud car horn pulled Y/n out of his thoughts.

Embarrassed at the stares, Y/n rushed out of the way of the car and looked back to where he thought he saw his crush only to see another person. Y/n sighed thankfully that his crush didn’t see him almost get runover. He paced his way to his locker and started switching out his books but stopped when he noticed the regular group of people standing by Scott McCall’s locker. He let his gaze stop on the brown-haired human.

Oh oh, tryna play it coy Tryna make it disappear But just like the battle of Troy There's nothing subtle here, oh oh

“You know if you keep staring, you might burn a hole in his head.” Bree, Y/n’s friend, said, breaking Y/n out of his gaze. “One word. One word and I can set her pretty little hands on fire.” He gritted through his teeth, seeing Malia’s hand in Stiles’ made him slightly upset. “Careful, baby witch.  Look at what you’re doing.” Bree informed, making Y/n aware of the flickering lights causing him to turn and face his locker, controlling his powers.

“You need to find a way to control those feelings of yours before they get you exposed.” Bree suggested. “I’ll be fine. It was just a little hiccup, nothing to worry about.” Y/n denied, closing his locker and locking arms with Bree. They both walked past Scott’s locker and Y/n snuck a glance at Stiles but was surprised to see him looking at him. Stiles gave Y/n a greeting nod but Y/n shyly looked away and continued on his way to class. “Why didn’t you say ‘hello’ back?” Bree asked, whispering incredulously. “Because I was caught off-guard.” Y/n answered, whispered back afraid the werewolves would hear.

In my room there's a king size space Bigger than it used to be If you want you can rent that place Call me an amenity, oh oh Even if it's in my dreams, oh

Y/n arrived at the door to his next class and stood outside talking to Bree. “Since when are you interested in a relationship anyways?” she asked, waiting for the bell to ring. “Because I feel ready, and I want to have someone.” Y/n replied, hopelessly. “And that someone is, Stilinski?” Bree questioned, judgementally. “Don’t judge me.” Y/n complained, as he entered the classroom and took a seat at his table.

Ooh you're taking up a fraction of my mind Oooooh every time I watch you serpentine

Oh I'm tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin' Oh tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin' Not to think about you No, no, no, no, not to think about you No, no, no, no, I'm tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin' Oh tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin', I'm tryin' Not to give in to you No, no, no, no, not to give in to you.

With my feelings on fire Guess I'm a bad liar

Y/n sat in front of Stiles, a strategy in trying to get over him, unfortunately Stiles sat directly behind him so that he could sit next to Scott. Y/n had kept his head down and focused on his work, waiting for his test results that the teacher was busy handing out. Y/n had received his test results and mentally celebrated his excellent results. In this moment, there was no thought of Stiles Stilinski until he felt a tap on his shoulder from behind.

He turned around and his eyes meet brown, chocolate ones. “I saw your test score. You did pretty great.” Stiles complimented with a smile, “Thank you, Stiles.” Y/n thanked, nervously. “Please don’t disturb others, Mr Stilinski.” The teacher reprimanded, with a look. “Sorry teach!” Stiles mockingly apologised, giving Y/n a wink to which he returned with a blush and a smile before turning to face the front again. He was hoping that no werewolf in the class was listening to his heartbeat.

I see how your attention builds It's like looking in a mirror Your touch like a happy pill But still all we do is fear, oh oh What could possibly happen next? Can we focus on the love? Paint my kiss across your chest If you're the art, I'll be the brush

Y/n sat with Bree on the stands watching Beacon Hills High play against Devenford Prep in a lacrosse game. The match was heated as they were tied and there only two minutes on the clock. The stands were watching with bated breath until Stiles suddenly scored a goal causing the stands to erupt in excitement. Time was up and the game was over, people rushed off the stands. “I’m gonna find Greenberg. See you later.” Bree said, giving Y/n a kiss on the cheek before leaving him.

“Hey Y/n! You came to watch the game?” Mr Stilinski asked, approaching him. “I did, my friend wanted to watch her boyfriend and needed some company.” He answered his neighbour. “You need a ride, home?” the sheriff offered, but before he could answer Stiles excitedly appeared. “Well done, my son scored the winning goal!” Mr Stilinski boasted, causing Stiles to roll his eyes before noticing Y/n’s presence. “Congrats Stiles.” Y/n cooly said, giving him a smile and earned one in return with a thanks.

And oh baby let's make Reality, actuality, a reality Oh baby let's make Reality, actuality, a reality Oh

Y/n watched Stiles walked toward Malia and give her a hug before closing his eyes and looking in the other direction. He rejected Noah’s offer for a ride home and decided to walk. “Hey Y/n! Wait up!” a voiced called to him from behind, on his walk. He turned to the voice and lo and behold, there was Stiles running up to him still in his lacrosse uniform. “You know it’s dangerous to walk alone in the middle of night.” Stiles warned as he reached Y/n who didn’t look him in the eye.

“Well you know me, I live for danger.” Y/n joked before sneezing and rubbing his arms. “I actually don’t know you.” Stiles disagreed, as he placed his lacrosse jacket over Y/n’s shoulders to get him warm.

“We’re not friends so you’re not expected to.” Y/n responded, holding the jacket around his figure as the scent of Stiles’ cologne became stronger.

“Well, we should hang out sometime. You can bring Bree and I can bring my friends. So that we can all be friends. What about tomorrow?”

And there was the word that made Y/n’s heart sting: Friends. In that moment he remembered why he couldn’t be with Stiles and so the wise decision would be reject to the offer and forget about Stiles Stilinski entirely. “It’s a date. Bye and thank you for walking me home.” Y/n quickly said before entering his house and shutting the door on Stiles’ face. He made his way to his room and once inside he noticed something in his full-length mirror.

He was still wearing Stiles’ lacrosse jacket. And he heard a ding from his phone and pulled it out see a message: You looked too cute wearing my jacket for me to ask for it back. See you on our date tomorrow 😉 – Stiles.

With my feelings on fire Guess I'm a bad liar.

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Press Here for Rules

Derek Hale

Head canons

Fics

He loves me, He loves not I rated G I CW: None I Tags : getting together, Requited love

Naps and younger brothers I Rated G I CW: none I Tags Established relationship, Fluff, Family feelings

Eighteen - I Rated : G I CW : slight Underage Reader , Mention of Kate Argent I Tags: Established relationship, make out session I

Isaac Lahley

Head canons

Dating Isaac as stiles brother

Fics

Pack pizza night I Rated G I CW: none I Tags : Established relationship, Fluff, Goodtime feelings Longing I Rated M I CW: None I Tags : Established relationship, Smut, first time The little mermaid is looking different I Rated G I CW: none I Tags : fluff, Siren! reader

Scott McCall

Head canons

Fics

I'm Not Her I Rated G I CW : Mentions of death , Slight mention of being Suicidal I Tags : Hurt/comfort, Established relationship, Grief

Stiles Stilinski

Head canons

Being his older brother Dating Stiles Dating Isaac as stiles brother

Fics

Just Do it I Rated G I CW : none I Tags : Fluff, Awkward crushes

[soulofapatrick]

TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

KEY:

🌶️ = NSFW

🥹 = SFW

😡 = angsty

How I Picture Them 

𝒮𝓉𝒾𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝒮𝓉𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝓈𝓀𝒾 𝓍 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Not That Type of Crush 🥹

Teasing Kisses 🌶️

Scent Mark Me 🌶️

Everything To Me 🥹

𝒮𝓉𝒾𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝒮𝓉𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝓈𝓀𝒾 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Falling Into You 🥹/tiny bit of 🌶️

Everything to Me 🥹

𝒥𝑜𝓇𝒹𝒶𝓃 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓍 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 

To be written...

𝒥𝑜𝓇𝒹𝒶𝓃 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Make You Feel Better 🥹/🌶️

𝒫𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐻𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝓍 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Innocent Gold 🥹

Changes For The Better 🥹

𝒫𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐻𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Pack Instincts 🥹

Under The Mistletoe 🥹

𝒮𝒸𝑜𝓉𝓉 𝑀𝒸𝒞𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓍 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Kiss Me Sick 🥹

𝒮𝒸𝑜𝓉𝓉 𝑀𝒸𝒞𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

To be written...

𝒟𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓀 𝐻𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝓍 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Hypnotised 🥹

Returning to Normal 🥹

I Could Get Used to This 🥹

The Pack Realises You Love Derek - Part 1 // Part 2 //  Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 🥹/😡

𝒟𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓀 𝐻𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Accidental Admittance 🥹

Lover's Embrace 🥹

Rebuilding 🥹

𝐿𝒾𝒶𝓂 𝒟𝓊𝓃𝒷𝒶𝓇 𝓍 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Dance With Me 🥹

The First I Love You 🥹/🌶️

Feigning Innocence 🥹

𝐿𝒾𝒶𝓂 𝒟𝓊𝓃𝒷𝒶𝓇 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Midnight Confessions 🥹

𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜 𝑅𝒶𝑒𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝓍 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Flirt Your Way Into My Heart 🥹/😡

𝒯𝒽𝑒𝑜 𝑅𝒶𝑒𝓀𝑒𝓃 𝓍 𝐹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

To be written...

𝒥𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓈𝑜𝓃 𝒲𝒽𝒾𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓍 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Aftermath 🥹/😡

[kingstonromcom]

PLS VOTE IM SO INDECISIVE

[donny-ember]

Any suggestions?

I finally worked up the courage to write on here! I'm going to try and come up with some story ideas for you lovely readers. But in the mean time any suggestions? I'm planning to write mainly male readers but I'm open to about anything.

[starboye]

Kinktober Day 5

starring: stiles stilinski x ftm!male reader

request: Stiles Stilinski rough fucking ftm!male reader and talking about how much he want you to get pregnant

warnings: smut, breeding, mention of male pregnancy, cursing, pussy eating, ftm!reader, slight overstimulation

he couldn't just go one day without touching your fine body, the moment you came over to his house after not talking to him all day because of your studies he was kissing all over your face and picking you up to take you to his bed.

not hiding his intentions of what he wanted to do to you right now "stiles no I just got off school im tired" you slowly push him off but he doesn't budge and goes right back to kissing you "don't worry you won't have to do anything I'll take care of it all for you baby" stiles reassured trailing his kisses down your abdomen to your crotch.

he deeply sniffed the growing wet spot in between your legs making you subconsciously close them but stiles prys them open "just a taste y/n" he pulled your pants down and off along with your underwear, admiring your beautiful pussy that's dripping with glory, diving into eating you out, his tongue thrusting in and out of you with hunger.

your hands instinctively finding his head to inter lock your fingers with his curls, he lifts your legs over his shoulder to trap his head between your legs (somewhere he wanted to always be) so he could continue outing out this sweet sweet cunt "oh fuck stiles ngh I'm gonna..." you tightened your grip on his hair as you back arched and sprayed your delicious arousal over his face.

"so fucking good, I could eat this all day" stiles chuckles sitting up on his knees and pulling you into his now naked crotch, his cock layed perfectly over your pussy, he begins slowly rubbing up your back and over your body, silently trying to convince you to go further "if we do it are you gonna stop pestering me" you chuckle and you see his eyes light up.

"yes yes yes" he furiously nods his head leaning down to kiss you, his kisses leading down your neck all the way back down to your pussy, your slickness acting as lube for him to easily slip in, him throwing his head back to the tightness of you, listening to your cute moan at the feeling of his cock all the way in and in a matter of no time stiles starts fucking you with no stop.

the sounds of skin on skin slapping and moans filling the room instantly, stiles fingers digging into your plush thighs as he lets out husky grunts though his thrusts, it felt so good to be in you he could fuck you from day to night and trust with how high his sex drive is and how horny he is he could definitely do it.

he was thinking of all the things he would do to you if he could get the chance "y/n" he asked through raspy breaths "yeah" you whimpered gripping the sheets tightly as stiles slammed his cock into your gummy walls over and over "I wanna get you pregnant" stiles says in a moment of vulnerability "you know guys can't get pregnant right stiles" you snicker but those are quickly shot back into moans "but what could be the harm in trying right" stiles flashes a smile through his thrusts "id like to see that" you say but quickly regret as stiles immediately starts going harder.

gripping your thighs tighter and tighter as he felt himself pump his first load into your sopping cunt, it felt so euphoric as he didn't stop and kept going, you tightening around him wanting more of his warm cum in you "fuck yes stiles right there" you whine feeling him hit just the right spot in you again and again with his cock, he loved the sounds of your moans, they were like fuel to keep him going and hopefully get you preggo.

"get pregnant, get pregnant, get pregnant" he muttered over and over hoping it would come to fruition, he wanted to live the rest of his life with you (and hopefully get to fuck that beautiful pussy everyday) with kids and you loved he thought like that but realistically that can't happen but that still wasn't going to stop him from emptying load after load into you hoping a baby would form and while lost in thought he didn't realize him dumping another load into you.

after hours of fucking your legs were shaking and you were breathless while stiles still kept going and going "stiles please stop" you plead feeling every part of your body weak "just one more baby and I'm done i promise" he said feeling his fifth or sixth load coming up and soon pumping into you before pulling out of your ruined hole, it overflowing with all of his cum, his cock twitching watching you weakly try to keep it in but fail and it drips all over the bed, hopefully that was enough baby batter.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft @wompwomp-1mh3re

[supercap2319]

Noah Stilinski: "Do you boys have anything that you want to confess?"

Y/N: "Okay, I confess! I had a threesome with Peter and Scott in your office twice. And Stiles let Derek fuck him in your bed."

Stiles: "DUDE!"

Noah Stilinski: "I was gonna ask who ate all the BBQ chips, but go on, Y/N."

[nino-rox]

Stiles x Male Reader | Fluff

Requested by Anonymous User - Not Proof Read

Teen Wolf AU - First time cuddling

Cookies & Cuddles

It had only been a week and a half since you and Stiles had started dating, but it felt both brand new and incredibly familiar, like you’d been circling each other for much longer. The thrill of finally being together was still fresh, but there was also that comfortable ease that came from years of friendship. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you pulled a tray of cookies from the oven, the smell of chocolate chip filling the kitchen.

You’d baked them as a surprise for Stiles, knowing how much he loved them. His sweet tooth was no secret, especially when he’d confessed it during one of those late-night conversations when it was just the two of you, sitting on the steps of your house. Stiles had been rambling about some bizarre case with Scott, and then out of nowhere, he'd gone off on a tangent about cookies. You’d laughed at the time, but tonight, you thought it’d be a nice gesture.

He arrived just as you were setting them down to cool, his Jeep rumbling to a stop outside. You could hear the faint sound of him locking it before his footsteps made their way to your front door. You opened it before he could knock, a habit you’d developed. Stiles stood there, his usual awkward smile on his face, hair even messier than normal—probably from some other crazy supernatural situation he hadn’t even told you about yet.

"Hey," he said, eyes lighting up the moment they caught sight of you. His shoulders visibly relaxed, and you could tell that being with you, even after a chaotic day, was becoming his safe haven.

"Hey yourself," you smiled back, stepping aside so he could come in. As soon as he entered, his eyes immediately darted to the kitchen, catching the scent of freshly baked cookies.

"Are those...?" His expression was priceless—wide-eyed, like he’d just stumbled upon a treasure.

You chuckled, "Yep. Thought you’d like a little treat after today."

"Okay, you’re officially the best boyfriend ever," Stiles declared, making a beeline for the kitchen like he hadn’t eaten in days. "No, seriously. You didn’t have to—wait, yes you did, because these smell *amazing*."

You followed him, laughing at his enthusiasm as he leaned over the tray, inhaling deeply. “I figured you needed something nice after whatever supernatural craziness happened today.”

He turned to you, still grinning. “Do you know me or what? But yeah, it was… intense. Scott almost got his head ripped off, Malia turned into full-on were-coyote mode, and Lydia’s banshee scream? Nearly deafened me again. But all in a day’s work, right?” He smirked, but you could see the exhaustion behind his eyes.

“You’re always saving the world,” you teased lightly, stepping closer to him. “But now you can relax for a bit.”

Stiles’ grin softened as he met your gaze. “I like that idea.” He reached out, fingers brushing yours before taking your hand in his. “You’re like my calm in the storm, you know that?”

Your heart swelled at his words, and for a second, the world outside really did feel distant. It was just the two of you, wrapped in the quiet comfort of your kitchen, the faint smell of rain still lingering outside.

“C’mon,” you said, tugging him toward the couch. “Cookies can wait until they cool.”

Stiles followed, still holding your hand, and as you sat down, the weight of the day seemed to fall away from him. You both settled in, his arm resting over your shoulders, pulling you closer. His body was warm against yours, the faint scent of his cologne—something woodsy and familiar—mingling with the ever-present hint of mint from his gum. It was a comfort, something uniquely Stiles.

You were quiet for a moment, and then Stiles broke it, his voice softer now. “You know, it’s weird. We’ve been dating for what, like a week and a half? But I feel like...”

“Like it’s been longer?” you finished for him.

“Exactly.” He squeezed your hand. “I guess that’s the benefit of knowing each other so well, huh?”

“Yeah, makes things a lot easier,” you said, smiling. “But it’s still new, and I kinda like that. Figuring all this out.”

He leaned his head against your shoulder, and for a moment, everything was perfect. His heart beat steady, his breathing calm—until, in true Stiles fashion, he couldn’t resist. “So, uh… how does this work?” he asked, gesturing between the two of you, his expression mock-serious. “Is this where we do the whole ‘first cuddle as a couple’ thing? I just don’t want to mess up the *routine* or anything. There’s like, a protocol, right?”

You laughed, leaning into him. “Pretty sure you’re doing fine so far.”

“Good to know,” he said, voice dipping into that soft, vulnerable tone he only used when it was just the two of you. He paused for a second, then turned his head slightly, his lips brushing your cheek. It was a tentative, sweet gesture, but it made your pulse race all the same. He pulled back, looking into your eyes, searching for any hesitation, but you smiled, giving him the go-ahead without words.

Stiles leaned in again, this time pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. The kiss was slow, gentle—like he was savoring the moment, taking his time to explore the feeling of being this close to you. His lips were soft, and you could still taste the faint mint on his breath.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were smiling, a little breathless. Stiles’ face was flushed, but the happiness in his eyes was undeniable.

“I think I like this ‘routine,’” he said, grinning.

“Yeah?” you teased, still close enough to feel his breath against your skin.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, pulling you closer again, his thumb gently brushing along your jawline. “We should definitely make this a regular thing.”

You chuckled, settling back into the couch as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly. The rain outside had picked up again, tapping softly against the windows, but inside, the world felt warm and safe. Stiles, ever the fidgeter, started tracing lazy patterns on your hand, his other arm snug around your waist.

“This is nice,” he murmured after a while, his voice starting to grow a little drowsy.

You nodded, feeling the same contentment wash over you. “Yeah, it is.”

For a few more moments, neither of you said anything, just enjoying the quiet comfort of being together. Then, out of nowhere, Stiles perked up. “Wait, the cookies! Did I miss the cooling window?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, they’re still good. You want to grab some now?”

“Hell yes,” he said, jumping up with renewed energy. He dashed to the kitchen and returned, holding a plate of warm cookies in triumph. “I’ve survived another day in Beacon Hills, and I deserve this,” he declared, handing you one before taking a huge bite out of his own. His eyes closed in bliss. “Oh my God, these are perfect.”

You grinned, taking a bite yourself. “Only the best for the hero of Beacon Hills.”

Stiles beamed at you, chocolate smudging the corner of his mouth. “Okay, stop. You’re gonna make me blush.”

“You’re already blushing,” you teased, leaning in to kiss the chocolate from his lips. And just like that, you found yourselves kissing again, sweet and soft, the taste of cookies mixing with the warmth of the moment.

In that instant, the world outside faded away. No werewolves, no banshees, no looming threats. Just you and Stiles, in the calm of a stormy Beacon Hills night, knowing that whatever craziness came next, you had each other.

[godjustkys]

| mndi +18

| Stiles Stilinski x Top male reader

please give requests.

"A-ah! Fuck! Oh fuck, f- mhhh!"

"C'mon, Stilinski, you can take it, hm?" You mumbled out, your hands placed firmly on his hips, thumbs grazing over his back dimples.

Stiles squirmed a bit under your touch, his legs shaking ever so slightly. "[Name], plea-se, 'm— I can't!" He exclaimed, shaking his head urgently.

After all that stupid pining from the both of you, you had him on all fours, naked, and on your bed. "Aw, don't give up so quickly.." You leaned forward a bit, getting closer to his ear.

"Ghh— shiiittt!" His nails dug deep into his palms, trying to hold his position steady. "Slow! Slow, please, go slow!" He raised his shaky voice a bit. Stiles was breathing heavily, his head still hanging low. Perhaps he was ashamed to look at you.

"I am, don't worry Stilinski, I ain't gonna hurt ya now," you said with a small chuckle, pushing your dick in deeper, going at a much slower pace per Stiles' request.

Stiles suppressed many noises that threatened to leave his mouth, trying to stay quiet. You were playing by Stiles' rules, since he's the one having it rough right now, but that didn't stop you from pulling out slightly and pushing in a little bit deeper at a faster pace.

Fuck. That thing you just did earned a loud whimper from Stiles. His back arched quite a lot and you were in such a great position to witness it.

"God, Stilinski," you breathed out, moving one of your hands up to the back of his neck then slowly running it down along his back as you simultaneously pushed your dick all the way in, now just letting Stiles adjust to it. "You've got one hell of a body," Stiles thighs were shaking as you murmured out compliments, but it soon calmed down because you let him adjust and get used to the feeling.

"And a pretty face. Aren't you just perfect?" And with that comment of yours, Stiles let out a shaky breath, unclenching his fists and taking a moment to relax.

"You ready for me to move yet, or do you want some more time?" You said in a smug tone, both your hands back on his hips. " 'm ready, 'm ready.. yep, you can- move." Stiles responded to you, his voice almost neutral, yet holding some urgency behind it.

" 'mkay," you grinned, pulling out slowly. Agonizingly slowly. "Tell me to stop if you wanna back down,"

As soon as you finished your sentence, you rammed back into him oh so harshly. Maybe you should've went easier but Stiles did say he liked it rough. "I g- Mmhhh! Ah! Fuck!" Stiles tried replying to you, but the way you slammed back into him felt so good, not to say that it didn't hurt at all. "Fuuuccckkkkk!" He moaned out, his voice sounding so sloppy and high pitched.

He grasped the sheets, his fists balling up. So far, your pace was pretty slow and gentle, not including the start of it. "How we doin' Stilinski, you feelin' good?"

"ngghh! yesyesitfeelsgood.. pleasepleaseplease—" he rambled out, placing his forehead against the mattress. "gofasterplease, [name], please." His voice was pretty quiet, quite difficult to make out what he had said. "Awh, use your voice, don't be shy," you teased in an amused tone, really taking in the sight in front of you. "What do you want me to do? I couldn't hear you,"

That was a lie, you most definitely heard him. You just wanted him to be louder - to hear his voice. Everything about him makes you more and more obsessed.

"Please. Go faster, pleaseee.." he whined out, his voice still high pitched. Was he a crybaby in bed? Oh god, the thought of that just turned you on even more. "There ya go," you exhaled, your tone so gentle as you quickened your pace by a lot, holding onto his hips tighter.

It was at this point that Stiles' arms had given out, his shoulders now on the bed as well. The only thing holding him up was you.

"You seem to be doing well, Stilinski, you likin' the position, huh?" You asked, your eyes fixated on the back of his head.

No genuine response, just some loud whimpers and moans.

"Oh come on, you can do better than that," you teased, pushing your dick in deeper with every thrust.

Nothing. Again. Just louder moans from your partner.

You let out a sigh as you pulled out, leaving Stiles confused at first. Then you flipped him over on his back, positioning yourself between his legs and continuing from where you left off.

Your hands were on either sides of Stiles, propping yourself up on the bed as you looked down at him. Stiles couldn't look at you, he was too embarrassed about this. He was going to turn his head away, but you kissed him so he had nowhere to go.

Your hands moved to Stiles's thighs after the kiss, holding onto them with a tight grip, pulling your lover closer when you thrust in. "Goh— od! Oh for fucks sake!" He cursed out, throwing his head back as his hands found their way to grip your shoulders.

Your hand wrapped around Stiles' dick and you started jerking him off. In response, your boyfriend let out a loud and such a slutty moan. "Fuh— fuck!" In response to the pleasure, Stiles' ass clenched around your dick. "Oh? You like that, don't you?"

Stiles' toes curled as he gritted his teeth. Soon enough he wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you in closer as you jerked him off and fucked him, at the same time. "Look at you, being such a good boy for me," you muttered out, thumb rubbing over his slit. You started fucking him harder, thrusting deeper. Soon enough, reaching his prostate. When you reached it though, it was pretty obvious.

His nails dug into your back. "[Name], oh god, wait! nghh!~" He sobbed out, arching his back. You looked at him with delight, grinning and hitting the same spot again. "Is that the good spot?" You teased in a gentle tone. He couldn't help himself. The amount of whines and whimpers that left his mouth was insane.

Stiles was a moaning and sweaty mess at this point, his words weren't even coherent and they were all slurred. He left pretty obvious scratches on your back during this. "You're takin' me so good, baby.." you breathed out, your voice a bit hoarse. "You're a sight for sore eyes, can't believe I get you all to myself," you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

"ghhhh, mmmfuccckk.. imgonna.. [name], [name] imgunnacum..—" he barely formed a simple sentence, clearly out of breath. "Go on then, do it," you encouraged him, leaving a hickey on his neck after you responded. Stiles grabbed a fistful of your hair, his dick twitching in your hands as he came and his ass tightening around your dick, the liquid spurring out onto his stomach, some of it getting on you as well.

"Good boy.." you muttered, your pace slowing down ever so slightly, just for a moment. Stiles was still whining and whimpering - he felt a little too overwhelmed after cumming like this and you fucking him.

"Shh baby, just hold out for a little while, okay?" You encouraged in a soft tone, holding back your groans - you were close.

He nodded urgently, biting his lower lip as his grip on your hair loosened slightly. Stiles made eye contact with you, finally. God, the look in his eyes made your dick twitch inside him, not to mention the tears he was holding back.

Of course it was a little painful, but you were doing your best to be gentle with him. Plus, he wasn't really crying, he was just teary eyed.

Your hands moved to Stiles' chest, grasping his pecs. "mggh.." a soft mewl escaping the other's lips. You squinted your eyes curiously, a sly grin spreading across your face.

With that, you pulled out, jerking yourself off til you came with a silent grunt. You didn't want to make Stiles feel so dirty for his first time with you..

[bagerfluff]

hey same Anonymous from before requesting part 2 Scott McCall x male reader cuddles

plot now that reader has let stiles cuddle him and Scott during that movie night stiles won't stop asking reader for cuddles even when Scott not around headcannon stiles loves him some cuddle will not stop till he get his cuddles but stiles is very picky where he get his cuddles from

Your wish is my command and I hope you like this

Stiles Loves Cuddles

Set in season two/three

Something that not a lot of people knew about Stiles is that he loved cuddles. Ever since he was a kid and even more since his mom died. But Stiles never got his cuddles. It was a bit weird to cuddle with your best friend and Stiles' dad never was the most physical person. Plus Stiles was particular about his cuddles. It had to be just right. The person had to want to cuddle and had to be good at it. Scott can be a bit too handy. He never knew what to do with his hands. And his dad was too cold. He just laid there. Not acknowledging Stiles. Which made Stiles feel like he was annoying him. So no one ever knew. Stiles kept that secret locked up. Plus once Scott got bit by Peter Stiles had to be tough. 

Especially since Scott was freaking out. Then when Lydia went missing and when she got back he needed to be strong for her. Then the murders. Then Stiles being strong for Scott and his dad. So Stiles never got a break. So Stiles found other ways of letting off steam. One of those things was hanging out with Scott. Not to deal with supernatural stuff. But just to hang out like friends. Like before Scott got bit. But then Scott started dating Y/n. Now don’t get Stiles wrong. He loved the fact his best friend was happy. But Stiles no longer could hang out with Scott as much. He could, but he would prefer not to be trying to find out what was murdering everyone when he could be playing games with Scott. 

So when Stiles barged into Scott’s house to see him and Y/n cuddling he felt sad. Scott got what he wanted. Cuddles. But when Y/n invited him over to cuddle. Seemingly magically knowing that Stiles liked cuddles. Stiles was really happy. Then when Y/n started to run his hand through his hair Stiles was in heaven. Y/n knew how to cuddle. He knew what to do with his hands. He knew how to make you feel safe. And that was something that Stiles hadn’t felt in a long time. So after Stiles woke up and had to leave Stiles craved the comfort that Y/n gave him. Stiles did think that it was weird that he wanted to cuddle with his best friend's boyfriend but neither Scott nor Y/n made him feel weird about it. 

When Stiles wanted cuddles Y/n seemed to know and wrapped his arm around Stiles and pulled him into his chest. And it didn’t feel wrong. Stiles might be bisexual but he isn’t attracted to men and women but he is not attracted to Y/n. That’s Scott's job. So Stiles slowly started showing up to Scott and Y/n’s movie nights to cuddle. Scott was annoyed at him at first but he got used to it. Then Stiles started slowly asking for cuddles when Scott wasn’t around. Like if was off doing werewolf business and Stiles and Y/n were left alone. Scott would come home to Y/n and Stiles cuddling watching a movie or TV show.

But as Stiles got more comfortable showing and telling people that he wanted cuddles other people tried to cuddle or hug him. Lydia tried to cuddle with him once but Stiles refused. More people tried but Stiles refused them all. Stiles only wanted cuddles if it was from Y/n. Y/n felt happy that Stiles only wanted to cuddle him. He felt happy that he helped Stiles calm down. Y/n couldn’t do much else but be there for his friends. So when Stiles needed cuddles or if Scott needed cuddles Y/n felt happy he could help them.

Stiles may be the best friend. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like cuddles.

[eepwtf]

UPCOMING BOTS / BOT DUMP!!

i’m a sucker for the fall season, every and any season CANNOT top the fall season at all. which is why i’m making (some) horror/halloween inspired bots—even if there’s like 70 something days till halloween. along with a few random bots i've done and going to do.

tvdu ☆彡

Kai Parker: 𓏲ּ ghostface au! 𓂃

after you caught his eyes, he had an inexplicable curiosity over you. every step you took, every conversation you had with other people, he was there, watching you from afar. of course, that didn’t sedate his curiosity over you. so, when someone in your orbit ventured a little too close, he took matters into his own hands—quite literally. he gutted the perceived threat, the world around him narrowing into a singular focus: you. to him, it wasn’t just a crime; it was an artistic expression, a violent confession of his feelings woven into a tapestry of blood and chaos. He crafted his work with meticulous care, each stroke of the blade a declaration of his affection. yet, in the heat of his actions, a twist of fate caught him off guard—there you were, witnessing it all. Elena Gilbert: 𓏲ּ halloween costumes 𓂃

caroline's halloween party loomed on the horizon, a spectral deadline that demanded perfection. every cobweb, jack-o'-lantern, and plastic skeleton needed to be meticulously placed. the entire event had to be flawless, a masterpiece of festive horror. you, however, felt a different kind of dread. social gatherings weren't your forte, and the thought of navigating a sea of costumed strangers made your stomach churn. but elena, with her infectious enthusiasm, had other plans. she'd already amassed an army of costumes for you to try on, each one more outrageous than the last. as she twirled before you in a dizzying parade of personas—from sultry vampire to whimsical fairy—her eyes sparkled with anticipation, silently demanding your opinion on each piece of clothing she’d modeled on herself. Elena Gilbert: 𓏲ּ cookies and kisses 𓂃

elena passion for baking was palpable, even if she wasn't a seasoned expert. what truly brought her joy was your presence in the kitchen, your willingness to join her culinary adventures. she cherished those moments when you'd sample her latest creations, those little baking treats she'd present with such enthusiasm. as you took that first bite, elena's eyes would light up, watching intently for your reaction. the moment you'd let out a contented groan of approval, a proud smile would bloom across her face, warming her from within. in those sweet instances, she felt a sense of accomplishment that went beyond the mere act of baking—it was about the connection, the shared experience, and the simple pleasure of making someone she cared for happy through her heartfelt efforts. Bonnie Bennett: 𓏲ּ season of the witch ( witch!user ) 𓂃

bonnie had gone to your place for witchcraft lessons, bringing some herbs you had specifically asked for, and of course, she brought the most important thing she needed for the lessons. herself. she knew that the lessons you were teaching her were more advanced, and that she needed to pay attention but as you began to explain the complex theories and gestures, she found her concentration wavering. your shoulder pressed against hers as you demonstrated a particularly intricate hand movement, the warmth of your body so close to hers, the subtle scent of herbs that clung to your skin, the intensity in your eyes as you spoke of each spell - it all combined to make her head spin.

Damon Salvatore: 𓏲ּ lost in your iris 𓂃

damon tried to fight his feelings for you, but you were his weakness. he sees you completely, and he’d do anything to have you near him. every glance you exchanged pulled him deeper into a world only you inhabited, where his heart raced and his resolve faltered. he yearned to lose himself in those captivating eyes, longing to feel the gentle spark of your existence beside him. Klaus Mikaelson: 𓏲ּ so confusing 𓂃

klaus wrestled with uncertainty, his feelings for you a tangled web of emotions. some days, he was convinced you harbored a deep-seated dislike for him, your every glance and gesture seeming to confirm his fears. other times, he caught himself nurturing a grudging resentment towards you, though he couldn't quite pinpoint its origin. despite all of that, he persistently suggested grabbing drinks. it had become his go-to solution, a way to bridge the gap between you two–or perhaps to blur the lines of your complicated relationship. so, inevitably, you'd find yourselves perched on barstools in some dimly lit establishment, nursing your drinks, surrounded by the hum of stranger's conversations. the atmosphere was always thick with unspoken words and lingering glances. sometimes, you'd manage to fall into an easy rhythm, laughing at shared jokes and swapping stories about your day. in these moments, the confusion would recede, and a genuine connection seemed possible. but more often than not, an awkward tension would creep in. silences stretched too long, laughter felt forced, and both of you would become hyper-aware of every word and gesture. ( this is actually my fav rn!! )

Klaus Mikaelson: 𓏲ּ his muse 𓂃

klaus always found himself getting lost in the dance of his hands across the canvas, transforming the lifeless white expanse into a vibrant masterpiece. the studio was his sanctuary, a world inhabited only by his artistic vision and you—his ethereal muse. in his eyes, you were the embodiment of perfection, and his brush strokes captured your essence without flaw. the art, a mirror of his perception, revealed no imperfections, for in his mind, you were utterly flawless.

spn ⟢

Dean Winchester: ๑ ︵ angels and halloween ( angel!user ) ᵎᵎ

you were an angel, which meant that you had no idea about humans, especially in their tradition of halloween. so when dean catches you staring at the halloween decor, and costumes in a store, he goes out of his way to make this a memorable halloween for the angel. he planned an elaborate evening, starting with pumpkin carving. your first attempt at pumpkin carving was... unique. the face you created had a lopsided grin and mismatched eyes, one comically larger than the other. next came costume selection, where the two of you went to the nearest halloween, a warehouse-sized space filled with endless racks of costumes and accessories. you browsed through countless options: superheroes, movie characters, mythical creatures. dean suggested a sexy devil costume with a mischievous grin, but you firmly declined, not finding the humor in it. ( i think this is my top 2 fav! )

Dean Winchester: ๑ ︵ insatiable ( vamp!user ) ᵎᵎ

dean’s fangs throbbed with an insatiable hunger, a primal urge he struggled to contain. every pulse of blood rushing through nearby veins called to him like a siren's song. the warmth radiating from human bodies sent shockwaves of desire coursing through his undead form. but resistance only seemed to intensify the craving. his heightened senses picked up on every nuance—the slight sheen of sweat on exposed skin, the rhythmic thump of hearts, the tantalizing scent of life itself. through it all, you observed him drinking in his struggle like a fine wine, with a knowing smirk playing at the corners of your mouth. your eyes sparkled with amusement, fully aware of the internal battle raging inside dean. you knew exactly what he craved—what he needed. and yet here you stood, taunting him, daring him to give in to his darkest impulses.

Dean Winchester: ๑ ︵ dark magic ( witch!user ) ᵎᵎ

dean wasn’t that awfully nice when it came down to witches or anything surrounding the supernatural. everything he stood suddenly disappeared when it came to you, logic fled and instinct reigned. your very existence seemed to weave an enchantment around him, bending his iron will as easily as a whisper bends a candle flame. in your orbit, he became a different man—softer, more open, as if you alone held the key to unlocking a hidden part of his soul. but your influence was not without cost. your magic, steeped in shadow, left a trail of upheaval in their wake. chaos bloomed wherever you tread, a dark garden of your own making. ( not sure i might stick with this plot, but am so hhhng im lazy )

Dean Winchester: ๑ ︵ might say somethin stupid ᵎᵎ

after a long, exhausting hunt, dean heads to a nearby bar to unwind. weighed down by the night's events, he orders a drink and surveys the room. his attention is quickly drawn to a stunning individual sitting a few stools away. intrigued, dean moves closer, captivated by their effortless beauty and presence. deciding to engage, he buys them a drink and leans in, confidently flirting with a playful question about their relationship status, hoping to shift the mood and distract himself from the tension of the hunt.

Sam Winchester: ๑ ︵ bloody date ᵎᵎ

it was catastrophic. sam knew, deep in his bones, what you truly were. he might have chastised himself for harboring feelings for you, convinced he was teetering on the edge of insanity as his heart clenched painfully within his chest at the mere thought of your presence. but fuck, you were worth it right? this date, however, shattered any remaining illusions. it was meant to be an intimate affair—small, meaningful, a cherished memory in the making. well, you sure as hell made it memorable for him to ever forget it. there you stood, fangs sunk deep into your helpless victim, crimson rivulets painting the edges of your mouth like some macabre artwork.

slashers ☆彡

Brahms Heelshire: ୭ ∿ i'll be good ∿

you had reluctantly accepted the nanny position, despite the suspiciously high salary. the isolated manor and eccentric heelshire family raised red flags, but desperation silenced your misgivings. nothing, however, could have prepared you for the absurdity of your charge – a porcelain doll named brahms. initially, you played along with the charade, following the strict rules set by the heelshires. but as days turned to weeks, an unsettling truth emerged. the real brahms was no doll, but a grown man, which in hindsight would be something to be freaked out about but for you it was fine, however the fact that the brahms could be a little too clingy was the problem. simple errands became ordeals. attempts to leave the property triggered tantrums, brahms clinging to you not wanting you to leave him.

Patrick Bateman: ୭ ∿ touch starved ∿

patrick never considered himself a touch-starved person. in fact, he often thrived in the artificial perfection of his meticulously curated life. he relished the combination of power suits and high-stakes finance, his existence orchestrated with a calculated precision that left no room for vulnerability. but from the moment you entered his life, everything changed. he found himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame, craving your touch in a way that defied his logical mind. in the upscale restaurants you frequented—places with starched tablecloths, crystal stemware, and prices that made most people wince—patrick's behavior shifted noticeably. while he once sat rigidly across from his dining companions, maintaining a respectable distance, with you he couldn't bear even that small separation. he'd guide you to the plush booth seating, sliding in close enough that your thighs touched beneath the table. as you perused the menu, his arm would find its way around your shoulders, fingers absently tracing patterns on your skin. during the meal, he'd lean in unnecessarily close to murmur observations about the food or other patrons, his breath warm against your ear. as the evenings wore on, patrick found increasingly creative ways to maintain contact. he'd reach across the table to adjust your napkin or brush an imaginary crumb from your cheek. Patrick Bateman: ୭ ∿ feeling bratty? ∿

patrick felt more on edge as time passed, a tightening coil of frustration that wound ever tighter within him. when the tension reached its boiling point, he reacted instinctively, striking out like a stray cat cornered and threatened, hissing and baring its tiny fangs. in that moment of vulnerability, his anger found an outlet in the nearest target—unfortunately, that target was you. deep down, he recognized his own insufferable behavior; he could feel the weight of it pressing down on him. he watched as you scoffed at his provocations or simply ignored his taunts, and each dismissive reaction stoked the flames of his irritation. the more you turned away, the more desperately he sought your attention, despite knowing the fire he was playing with could easily burn him.

misc ⟢

Soldier Boy: 𓂃 ꒰ freak show ꒱

Ben never imagined he'd find himself at the entrance of a peculiar circus, its weathered sign proclaiming "freak show" in faded letters. for weeks, vought's pr team had hounded him relentlessly, insisting that this appearance would be "good for public relations" and "humanize" him in the eyes of the masses. ben had scoffed at first, but their persistence wore him down like water on stone. now, here he was, surrounded by wide-eyed gawkers and the constant buzz of excited whispers. as the show began, ben found himself oddly captivated. each act was more outlandish than the last - contortionists twisting their bodies into impossible shapes, fire-breathers painting the air with flames, and strongmen hefting weights that should have been beyond human capability. but then, as the ringmaster's booming voice announced the next act, the tent fell into a hushed silence. a single spotlight illuminated the center ring, and ben's breath caught in his throat. there you were. the aerialist.

Stiles Stilinski: 𓂃 ꒰ favorite monster ꒱

stiles was well versed when it came down to the supernatural, he read every book, myth, and stories when it came to the supernatural. was well aware of the dangers of ghosts, werewolves, vampires the whole gist, you name it he undoubtedly knows it all. of course, you were a different case, a unique case that even though he knew the dangers about being a vampire he couldn’t for the life of himself get away from you. every late-night conversation and shared secret made it harder for him to keep his distance. as the two of you walked through the forest, discussing everything from pop culture to existentialism, it was at the very instant that your sudden laugh made his heart race. the warmth in your eyes and the way you would brush your hand with his rendered him utterly transfixed. he wondered how it was possible to feel so electrified and safe in the presence of someone who was, by all accounts, a threat. Stiles Stilinski: 𓂃 ꒰ you're ghostface ꒱

stiles didn’t know what to expect when the rumors of a serial killer began circulating in their small town. the gossip, dripping with fear and intrigue, shattered the fragile peace of beacon hills. as he stumbled through the dimly lit alley, the unmistakable glint of a knife illuminated by the flickering light from the nearby streetlamp caught his eye, and as the scene grew clearer, every hope he'd entertained shattered like glass. you, standing over a crumpled figure on the ground, the knife still gleaming in your hand, ghostface mask perched above your head. stiles had known you—i mean, really known you. the fact it was you, who was said killer made his stomach churn. he felt as though the ground had been pulled from beneath him, leaving him suspended in disbelief.

Madison Montgomery: 𓂃 ꒰ bitchy!user ꒱

madison's initial reaction to your caustic demeanor was a blend of irritation and intrigue. it catches her off guard; she's unaccustomed to having her façade challenged so directly. your unwavering stance and refusal to be cowed gnaws at her composure, chipping away at the armor of superiority she's cultivated. yet, beneath her outward indignation, she finds herself grudgingly impressed. your razor-sharp retorts and quick wit present a novel challenge—one that simultaneously infuriates and exhilarates her.

Madison Montgomery: 𓂃 ꒰ tobacco lips ꒱

before her death, madison was already dead inside. numb to the world, she craved to feel—anything. she chased oblivion through a haze of flesh, drugs, and alcohol, desperately seeking to drown the echoes of her past. each indulgence was a futile attempt to erase the memories: her mother's absence, her asshole of a father, the relentless scrutiny of the press, and the string of lovers who had taken pieces of her without leaving anything in return. she had found her way to the nearest bar, her face, heavily caked with makeup, felt like a mask weighing her down. her once-pearly teeth, now tobacco-stained, hid behind a sneer. the dress she'd chosen, meant to turn heads, only succeeded in making her look cheap rather than alluring. she navigated the crowded gathering with a practiced arrogance, projecting an aura of superiority she didn't feel. a fresh cigarette dangled from her lips, the filter stained with lipstick—a silent testament to her desperation. her words flowed freely, empty promises spilling from her mouth to the eager ears of men old enough to know better. then, through the haze of smoke and poor decisions, she saw you. beautiful, poised you—the coven's rising star, their future supreme. you stood surrounded by distinguished men, everything madison's admirers lacked. everything madison herself lacked. shame crashed over madison, as darted out, trying to get away from your sight.

might fix some of these but …. probably not anyway! @eppwtf on c.ai 😛

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ Burn for you ❞

post-s6!Stiles Stilinski x werewolf!male!reader | nsfw, smut | sub.bttm. reader (AMAB) | not proofread | wc: 4k

warnings: omegaverse dynamics (r!), praise kink, biting, scratching, spanking

req: can I ask for a stiles fic, like reader(m) is a werewolf n went into heat and the only person he actually trusts from the pack is stiles so he just bursts into his room in the middle of the night all hot and sweaty and stiles is just dumbfounded until he realised what was wrong and he helps him all night 😋😋 anyway and like end it with some cuddles n stuff if you can, oh and like a shit ton of praise just like mass amounts, plus like biting, scratching maybe a few smacks here and there and that's it! (bottom amab reader pls)

"This is insane," by all accounts he was right. Stupid, cunning, frantic and witty Stiles Stilinski was right. This was insane. "Stiles," but here you are — countering his factual statement. "Stiles, please..." The hands in his hair stop and he looks at the state you're in. Actually looks. His eyes take in the wildness in your eyes that, once upon a time, would've made him flinch as they glow in the dim lighting of his dorm room. Yet at this moment, they're anything but frightening, instead they're desperate.

There's a startling realization that the werewolf before him was desperate for him that makes Stiles choke on his own spit. The hands in his hair travel down to cover his mouth but you know it's still in that annoyingly slacked-jaw pose. Why were you sneaking into his dormitory room through a window!? "Stiles!" You land on your feet and now Stiles has a werewolf in his dormitory room. The carpet silences the thudding your shoes make as you reach for the collar of his shirt. It's new. Sheriff Stilinski probably bought some new clothes for Stiles for Christmas —that's not the point. The point is, his shirt is new and you're stretching the round collar wider at the front, claws teasing the fabric as you grit your teeth together to stop your fangs from making an appearance. "Hey, easy, easy!" His palms rest on your face. Stiles squeezes your cheeks together when he feels fur attempting to sprout. He shushes, twisting his head on a swivel around his tiny room. His roommate said he'd be out but the lights from underneath Stiles door is on and he sees shadows moving. He can handle a werewolf in distress but handling that whilst keeping the secret of the supernatural away is a juggling act he'd rather not attempt. He's had his fill from his high school days. He'd rather not repeat it again in college.

What were you even doing here? Last time you two called you'd been in Beacon Hills, California helping his father out with some rogue werewolves. What the hell were you doing in Quantico, Virginia!? "(Y/N)," his eyes are set in a determined squint. Yours are furrowed, eyebrows meeting in the centre that makes a slideshow of memories appear behind Stiles eyes with every blink. The second time he says your name it's softer. As if he recalls who you are and you squeeze your eyes shut at the warmth in his voice. Shoulders sagging and grip loosening, you lean forward to bury your face in the crook of Stile's neck.

Everything is fuzzy. There's someone else nearby — two someone's, to be exact, but everything beyond Stiles' door is irrelevant.

Everything beyond Stiles is irrelevant.

Stiles wraps his arms around you. You swear you can feel every scar on his palms and finger pads despite the jacket you wore. It's mindboggling how amplified Stiles is right now.

He eyes the shadows from his door. They pause and Stiles grip on you tightens. It elicits a gasp from you as you clutch the front of his shirt again. Stiles ignores how hot his ears feel as your lips brush against his skin and how he can feel the tips of your teeth (not fangs, thankfully) whisper along the thickest junction between his neck and shoulder — or he tries to. His pulse quickens and you're so close too him you can feel it, see it, hear it. Your hands are flat against his sternum. With your eyes aglow you tilt your head down to spread your fingers across his chest. "Shh, shh, my roommates asleep," Stiles would thank Tom (his roommate) for being considerate but a few giggles escape the girl he's brought over and Tom is pushed against the door. The sound is decidedly too loud for an already sensitive werewolf so you lips curl in distaste. Your growl only cut short by Stiles hands smacking itself over your mouth so hard your head tilts back.

"Stiles — !" "(Y/N)" his whisper is sharper than you're used to. The frown etched onto his face is so familiar but so...grown. It had only been a year since graduation. Since that mess with the Wild Hunt and everything in between. Stiles looks so adult now. Oh, there's still mischief written all over his face but everything that was soft-edged was sharper and there was this hint of a stubble along his jaw and chin. The bags under his eyes were probably because of wild nights roaming Beacon Hills woods for dead bodies but it seemed college exacerbated it tenfold. It reminded you of the Nogitsune when it had Stiles but he wasn't pale and he was still familiar. You're staring. You realize that you are but Stiles just looks so handsome and the memories are flooding in faster than you can stop them. His hands smell like energy drinks, spilled pen ink, dusty cold-case files Stiles definitely had no authority to be snooping through and home. Stiles flinches, chest concaving away from you when you whimper and tug at his shirt.

No, not whimper.

Moan.

"...Your roommate has company too," Tom's girl whispers barely reach his ears through the door. Their shadows stumble away with a few 'hushed' giggles but Stiles only tears his eyes away when he hears his roommates door shut.

"What the - Are you hurt? (Y/N), it's 2 am — You-You're supposed to be in Beacon Hills!"

Why is he so far away from you? He's pacing again, combing through his hair again and he's rambling again.

"Stiles," he doesn't pause as you call for him. He's too frantic to see the way you're panting or the way your cheeks are heated. "You know you're supposed to call me first when things happen!" He gasps and spins to looks at you. "Is it an emergency? Does Peter have another kid running around or something? Hunters? Are you —"

You're breathing too hard. He inches closer again. It feels like he's teasing you. Moving to-and-fro like a sly fox teasing a wolf.

"You're hurt?" "Stiles," the whine is high in your throat. A keening almost. It makes Stiles hands hover over your shoulders when he'd been gripping you so tightly minutes before. "Stiles, I need you"

"Need? Need...Need me to - For what exactly?" Your jacket is shrugged off. He can see the way your shirt is sticking to your skin. To his relief he sees no wounds, no blackened veins bulging and spreading across your skin because a hunter gave you a dose of Wolfsbane poisoning. It leaves him more confused. More flustered. "Somethings happening to me," you take steps forward. Stiles lets you. "What's wrong, (Y/N)?" He wants to turn on the lights in his room. Moonlight looks wonderful on you and the table lamp is less headache inducing to work in during these times but he's frozen with concern.

What if you were cut by a tiny blade covered in Yellow Wolfsbane? Or some other type of poison — a Kanima maybe? No, you weren't paralyzed. You weren't dying, if you were dying he' be sure you'd be more panicky but goddammit what if you were and you didn't realize it!?

"Derek...Derek said it happens to werewolves wuh-when we've...matured," Stiles wasn't there to witness the chaos the pack went through with the other wolves. Blissfully unaware of the embarrassment that lasted for days and it wasn't as though Scott was going to tell Stiles about the time he was so painfully horny after his 18th birthday that Malia and him effectively traumatized Melissa. "Matured...?" "Stiles, my birthday just passed," you don't want to say it. It kills you every time you even think about it so why would you want to say it out loud? "Happy...birthday?" But Stiles wasn't catching on. Derek had advised you about holing up somewhere. Said something about finding someone to partner up with. Preferably a pack mate and not some stranger in a bar. The notion was far too embarrassing. Scott was like an older brother to you and he was dating Malia who you think would probably not mind if you decided to spend your heat with the two of them. You minded though. So, no. Derek was a definitive no. Too much angst, too broody and too old for you and Lydia didn't deserve to be subjected to anymore werewolf biology nonsense then she already had. There were more pack mates but they were all a no but, Stiles...? He made you feel so safe. His brilliance was blinding (sarcastic quips included) and his valor in deathly situations were enough to make you swoon. Such kindness despite the torments life had thrown his way. Even now, he's showing it. He's holding you, tender and sweet, and his eyes are scanning you for injuries. "Stiles..." Your eyes meet. His brow furrows and his hand is cupping your cheek again. "Stiles, I'm...I'm in heat." His mouth opens then closes then opens before closing. Stiles is doing that thing where his brows are moving on their own and his eyes are blinking rapidly which means he's thinking. "Whaaat does that mean? Just - just as a clarification ya' know" You groan. The pants you're wearing has been achingly tight and you can't stand it anymore. "Dammit, Stiles! I need you to fuck me! I'm in heat, I feel - I feel like my skin is on fire and I - I just, fuck, please, Stiles, please" There's tears in your eyes. Embarrassment be damned, it's too much. It felt like your senses were fucking with you, it's been like this for days, symptoms of oversensitivity steadily raising until it reached its boiling point that caused you to drive all the way to here. But all of it washes away when Stiles is holding you. All your focus is on him and it relieves you of so much pain why the fuck isn't he holding you now? "Please, I need you, I need you so badly."

Stiles catches you when you trip over your own feet, faceplanting into his chest where he can feel your open-mouthed breathing. Your hands cling to his shoulders, his wrap themselves around your middle as you cry. "It hurts, Stiles. I can't, I can't think I just — Mmf, you smell so fuckin' good," your gaze lifts up and Stiles groans into your mouth when you surge forward to kiss him. It's a shitty kiss. Sloppy, messy, and there's a clear lack of coordination but fuck it was hot. His tongue brushing against yours along with his lips.

You feel the dry patches he has — clearly college has triumphed his basic needs so you fix it by wetting his lips with your tongue. His grip tightens as you push him back, back and back until the back of his knees knock onto his bed. He falls. You fall too. It's not the first time he's had a werewolf over him but it is the first time he's had a werewolf in heat on top of him. He prefers this compared to the other instances. The window of his room, where moonlight floods in, cast you in this blue hue. It contrasts with the warm hued light of his desk and the colours look so fucking good on your skin. Your lashes are dark with tears. Stiles is certain he's tasted a few of them while kissing you. He reaches up and wipes the evidence of their path away. You turn your nose into his palm like a puppy and Stile's plaid patterned pajama pants feels a little tight. A tear slips and Stiles uses both hands to hold you. Those pretty eyes flutter open and Stiles gulps. You were (Y/N) (L/N), a longtime friend. One of the first guys that made him realize he was bisexual. A cherished friend, someone he could imagine one day meeting up for drinks even after decades have passed. Here you were, on his lap. "Why, why me...?" It was a fair inquiry. He lived miles away and he hadn't been available as of late too. You? You were a looker. So handsome and kind it made Stiles feel guilty every time he jerked off and your face appeared in his thoughts. You could have anyone you wanted. If the werewolf thing was stopping you from getting with anyone...well, it wasn't as if there were a shortage of werewolves in Beacon Hills. The sounds of your breathing muffles the beat of silence. Then, you're leaning down and Stiles places a hand on your chest to stop you. "You...You don't want me?" He feels your muscles tensing. Ready to dart if he nods but he doesn't. "I...I really want you, (Y/N)" You lean again and again he stops you. "Stiles, please —" "Why me, (Y/N)?" He knows you're thinking. You have this tell on your face when you do and since you're just inches away from him he'd be blind not to see it. "Because I...I trust you, Stiles. Muh...More than anyone else. I don't just need you, Stiles, I...I want you" It's his turn to talk but he's quiet. You're whimpering again, hips twitching as you try so very hard not to act on impulse despite the way your body is on fire. There was this annoyingly loud voice in your head just chanting Stiles name and it's killing you that he is so, so, close but not fucking you. When Stiles kisses you it takes you aback, teeth clacking and all but neither of you care. He pushes himself up onto his elbows and he's gripping the back of your neck as he all but devours you. Your hands slide up his shirt. He flinches, pulling away from the kiss and squeezing your neck. "I bruise easily," you're confused. He motions to your hand with his eyes and your eyes widen when you see your claws fully extended. "Shit, Stiles, I'm sorry —" He cuts you off with his mouth. Your eyes are rolling back and he swallows every pathetic noise as he grabs your hips, ass, then your thighs. The yelp you let out when he twists you surprises you both. He's between your legs now, above you and grinning boyishly. "That's — That's new," he nods before diving in to mottle your neck. Your fingers are curled into fists as you arch your back into him. "Learned some self-defense moves, came in handy, huh?" Your laughter dies when you feel Stiles teeth playfully bite into your flesh. "I mean, it works against werewolves" Both of you glance at the wall behind you when you hear repetitive thuds, followed by a squeal of pleasure. Stiles wants you to scream on his dick like that too. You gasp, whispering out his name when Stiles undoes the annoying obstacles that is your pants. Your boxers have a wet patch on them and you nearly kick Stiles off when he presses a kiss on it. He's hastily tugging your pants away from your legs but you're not cold at all. Everywhere he touches you feels like he's setting you on fire.

But it's good. Not like "before Stiles", not like "without Stiles" burning that makes you feverish and turns your skin unbearably lonely. Stiles touches spreads this delicious burn across your skin. Your shirt is next. Stiles doesn't help you with, just watches as you take it off and toss it to the side. He's over you again, kissing you again and you're so overwhelmed you can't help the noises you're making. His fingers ghost along your navel but you've no time for foreplay. You grab his wrist and guide it down to your crotch, bucking your hips up from his ghost-like touches. "Fuck, you're pent-up," You're nodding in agreement, balls tightening as he finally, finally, slips a hand into your underwear. Your torso twists to the side, moaning like a whore as he holds your cock in his hands. "Really pent-up" Stiles jerks his wrist and you're biting your hand to keep the noises down. "Don't, not like they're holding back" Stiles reminds as the headboard banging grew more incessant. He pulls your hand away, pinning it down as he watches your face. His fingers are so good, palm warm and your precum is excessively leaking down. Probably a side-effect of the whole "in heat" thing. His thumb digs into your slit and he's groaning at your wanton moans. Curious, he slides his hand down. "Stiles," you feel him touch your balls but he slips further down to your perineum then to your twitching entrance. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. "You're wet" Stiles astute observation makes you dig your heels into the mattress. "You're wet"

"Stiles!" You can't handle this. You need him inside you not have a QNA session. "You've fought werewolves, a Kanima, hunters, the Wild Hunt, the Nogitsune, fuck — You survived holding Derek Hale up in a pool full of water while he was paralyzed for hours, stranger things have happened than my ass being self-lubricating!" You spread your legs, holding your thigh open as you try to catch your breath. He watches, entranced, as your fingers slip into yourself. It slides in with ease and familiarity. You're pumping one finger then two and then three. The way your rim stretches and clenches — Stiles sees it all. Stiles towers over the foot of his bed, over you, and you're relieved as you spot his hands replacing yours. His fingers are longer than yours and it has you melting as he pumps into you. "Shit, you're so warm" "All for you, baby, just for you," his ears are burning again. You look so blissed out but Stiles knows this isn't what you want. His shirt is the first to go and after stepping out from the puddle of checkered patterns Stiles is naked too. His cock is just as pretty as he is. There's moles on it, veins decorating the underside of it. It's long, more girthy near the base. "You manscape...?" You ask. "Shut up," Stiles replies. Stiles splits your legs apart, they're cushioned on the top of his thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck. The tip of his nose bumps into yours, lips catching yours again. He only pulls away when you feels his head catch on your rim. Stiles watches your face as the pressure gives and he's inside of you. He's biting his lower lip, wanting to only hear you (Tom isn't helping but that's not in his control). "Oh fuuuck, Stiles, Stiles your — " Stiles nods, pulling his hips away a bit before inching more inside. It has you whining. The delicious drag of his dick makes you clench and he hisses. "You feel so fucking good," he whispers against your Adam's apple, grinning as it bobs when you gulp thickly. Your claws are out again but he's electing to ignore it as it leaves kitten scratches across his shoulders. "God, (Y/N), you're so tight, so warm — Jesus fucking Christ, I —"

His words are making you squirm. It feels like an eternity but once he's fully sheathed inside of you it feels like all those days of overstimulation hell was worth it. The both of you moan and Stiles relishes in your velvety walls as they welcome him. "Like you were made for me," You whimper out his name. He notices your eyes are wet with tears and so he braces himself on his elbows, pushing you further up his bed. The jostling makes his dick pump into you and you mewl sweetly. "Don't have to cry, pretty boy, I've got you," he cradles the back of your head and places his forehead on yours. "Stiles..." Your eyes widen as he thrusts into you. He's watching closely. Your face scrunched up in ecstasy as he moves in and out of you. "You're so beautiful, fuck, (Y/N)" He hisses again when you clamp down at him. Only looking away to see your cock twitching in a tell-tale sign of an oncoming orgasm. Stiles chuckles as he grips at the base making you groan, shaking your head. "Hey, shh, relax, I'm helping you out. I'm not an asshole," he does that thing with his wrist again and your back arches. You see white and he slows his thrusts down, his back stinging but it's not the worst thing he's been through.

Stiles kisses down your throat and chest. He rubs soothing circles in your hips but he's still so painfully hard inside of you. The very feeling has your cock filling up again. He wraps his lips around your nipple, twirling his tongue around it and letting his teeth catch it as he pulls away. The entire thing has you shuddering. Stiles grabs a handful of your ass then maneuvers you onto your stomach, slipping out of you smoothly before positioning himself behind you. "FBI training?" You pant out as you look at him from over your shoulder. It makes Stiles laugh. "No, uh, just good ole' experience and porn" You roll your eyes at him and he grunts as he grips your hips. "Oh, I'll give you a reason to roll those pretty eyes," His pulls almost all the way out then slides back home. You moan out his name, clutching onto his bedsheets so hard there's a distinctive ripping sound. None of that matters though. The position you're in makes Stiles go in so deep it feels like you're in heaven. Your back is bowed and your face is in the sheets. Stiles sucks his teeth as he watches the way your ass ripples and bounces with every thrust in. You're writhing on the bed, moaning out his name as he plows into you. Stiles can't help himself. He lifts his hand and you squeal at the impact of his hand against you ass. "That feel good?" With the way you're backing up on him, he assumes that means yes. He squeezes your ass in his hands, watching the flesh blush because of his hands. Every spank makes you tighten around him and he groans as he soothes the stinging with his kneading hands. "So good for me, fuck, (Y/N), that's it just — Ah shit, shit, shit, your ass feels so good" Your cock is hanging heavy between your legs. Stiles grip on your hips is almost bruising. Your sweat slicked skin under moonlight has Stiles approaching his orgasm quicker than he anticipated. "I'm going to — " "Yes, yes, yes! Inside me, inside me, Stiles"

His thrusts become more and more erratic and you feel your second orgasm coming at you like a freight train. He's so beautifully loud the closer and closer he gets to his orgasm, you're whimpering as he ruts into you. His hands slide up your hips and he curls his arms around your shoulders to pull you up. Your back flushed against his chest. Stiles kisses you, messy and hot, and you only pull away to moan out his name as you come all over the bed sheets. He's not far behind, he fills the inside of your ass with thick ropes of cum and every involuntary twitch of his hips makes you let out whiny moans. His thighs twitch but Stiles makes sure you don't fall in your own cum. He lays you down next to it, slipping out of you with a groan before he bunches up his blanket to toss it to the pile of dirty laundry. You cling the second he lays next to you and he does not object. He pulls you closer, catching his breath as he kisses the top of your head. "That felt good?" You nod, asking him the same question with a scratchy voice. "Fuck yeah it did, holy shit," You grin as you grasp at his chin to give him a rewarding peck. "You're so...You're so hot, you know that?" "Stiles," you bashfully glance away (an odd time to be bashful but that can't be helped) and Stiles squeezes you closer. "I'm serious! I'm not saying it because of the post-sex glow or whatever — which, by the way, you are glowing" Your guffaw, hiding your face with your hands as he continues look oh-so-proud of himself. "I slept with (Y/N), I spanked his ass — He wanted me" "You're talking to yourself," you murmur, ear twitching as you hear Tom and his girl also coming down from their romp. How nice. Orgasms for all it seems. "And it's wants not wanted" He feels something twitch against his hip. Stiles peeks down and laughs in disbelief. "I still want you, Stiles..." Your eyes glow again. The way you're nosing his neck makes his dick raise to attention. "Stiles," you call. "I've got you, (Y/N)," he answers.