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maxineswritingcenter · 4 years ago

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You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 6

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To say that I was doing well after I left Derek’s house would be a lie. I really don’t understand why it hurts so much. We barely knew each other outside of a few encounters. Was it just me that felt the aching in my chest? I want to believe that he felt the same thing, but that seemed selfish. That I wanted him to miss me. That I dreamed of him showing up at my window and begging to see me. But that wouldn’t be real, that was a fantasy. Derek would never act like that. That was just my fantasy.

I promised Stiles I wouldn’t get romantically involved with Derek, but it was more painful than I have ever imagined.

I sat in Coach Finstock’s office while the school day went on. Relacing the netting on the crosses that were used in case any of the players broke their own. The repetitive movements were mind numbing so it was probably for the best. I could zone out and not think about Derek.

Tonight was parent teacher conferences for some students who weren’t doing well academically, both Scott and Stiles were a part of that list. But who could blame them? One of them was a werewolf and the other was friends with the aforementioned werewolf. The weeks seemed to run together, it didn’t even feel like autumn yet, but we were halfway to winter.

I had stayed away like I promised. The only times I even heard about Derek was from what Scott told Stiles. They were both planning on finding the alpha and taking him down together. That would be good for him. Good for both of them. I have been feeling so many emotions since then. A lot of anxiety and anger. But they never felt like my own. I sighed and rested my eyes for a minute, the repeated movements slowing my brain down enough to sleep on Coach’s desk.

The man in front of me was badly burned, one side of his face was pink and muddled, much of his hair was burned on that side.

“I need your help.” Derek’s voice echoed, “If you can hear me, I need you to give me a sign. Blink. Raise a finger. Anything. Just… Just something to point me in the right direction, okay?” The man, his Uncle Peter, stayed in the same position.

He sighed, “Someone killed Laura. Your niece, Laura? Whoever he is, he’s an Alpha now… but he’s one without a pack, which means he’s not as strong. I can take him. But, I have to find him first.” Still no response.

“Look, if you know something, just give me a sign. Is it one of us? Did someone else make it out of the fire?”

Still getting no response, he became agitated, “Just give me anything! Blink! Raise a finger! Anything!” He growled, reaching for the man, “SAY SOMETHING”!

“Hey.” I jolted at the sound of Finstock’s voice. He stood in the doorway of his office.

“You alright, kid?” He asked, his eyes went from my face to the crosse that I was aggressively fixing the net on. What was that? Was I… seeing what Derek was seeing? No, that was impossible. Insane even.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” I went back to relacing, tugging the knots taut and reaching for a lighter to burn the ends of the string so they wouldn’t unravel.

“Do I need to kick his ass?” He asked, his large eyes looking a little more crazy than usual. He was trying to seem threatening, but I wasn’t threatened by his booming voice and looks anymore. He was alluding to someone not treating me right but it couldn’t be further from the truth.

I chuckled a little, “No. It’s not his fault. He’s going through a lot right now.” I stood up and placed the crosse in the spare locker with the rest of them, “Besides, I probably shouldn’t be dating considering the last guy I was dating murdered my parents and tried to murder me.” The humor was dark, but what a way to cope.

“Any news on that guy?” He stood up straight, walking to his desk.

“Nope. I think he skipped town. He’s the feds' problem now.”

“Does Stiles want to be a doctor?” He changed the subject, he was looking at a paper in his hand.

“Uh… Not that I know of.” I shrugged.

“Because he wrote a detailed history of male circumcision on his economics test.”

I got out late, well past the time the student teacher meetings were over. Filing records, grading a couple things for Finstock and ordering more pearls for the upcoming games since we were running low. These days really run together, especially when you’re trying to forget most of the year that happens.

Speaking of happening, was I really seeing the same thing Derek could? It didn’t make sense. They were just random dreams. Like the one the other day where Derek was speaking to this woman about how she didn’t kill his sister. That was just a dream. But… Why could I feel sadness? Sadness, guilt and pain.

I got home, seeing that Stiles’ Jeep was nowhere in sight meaning that he was off to do more werewolf nonsense with Scott. I trusted Scott to keep him safe, but that didn’t mean I wanted Stiles running around where there was an alpha on the loose.

That night I made dinner, ate, saved two plates for Uncle Noah and Stiles and sat in the living room. They were running a story on another body that had been found. A bus driver killed in an animal attack. They were calling it a mountain lion. A mountain lion was more likely than a werewolf normally. But here we are. Officially werewolf capital of the world. I turned off the TV and laid back on the cushions, closing my eyes. Maybe a couch nap would relax me a little, it would kill my back in the morning, but I would be able to tell when Stiles came home.

Scott and Stiles were walking towards me across the school lawn, playfully pushing each other.

“I’m gonna kill both of you.” Derek’s voice said, “What the hell was that? What are you trying to do, attract the entire state to the school?” He was frustrated and angry, but also a little scared. Finding the alpha is what he needed to do, at the same time though, this person got the jump on Laura.

“Sorry…I didn’t know it would be that loud…” Scott said sheepishly.

“Yeah, it was loud… And it was awesome!” Stiles cheered.

“Shut up.” Derek barked.

“Don’t be such a sour wolf.” Stiles mocked.

“What’d you do with him?” Scott asked, looking around me.

“What?” Derek asked, I turned to see an empty backseat, “I didn’t do anything…” I saw Scott and Stiles’ eyes widen as pain exploded through my back. Blood gushed from my mouth as I was lifted up. I was coughing and choking on my own blood. Pain and fear were running through me, my heart pumping so quickly causing more and more blood to gush from my mouth. The last thing I saw was the world rushing by me as I was thrown towards the school wall.

I woke up before I made impact. My heart was racing and my back ached. I reached behind myself awkwardly. The only thing I felt was the raised bumpy scar from my stab wound. So it was just a dream, but it felt so real. So…Was it real? Did I just experience Derek…

I looked up at the clock and saw it was well into the early morning. I got up and made my way upstairs, Stiles’ door was slightly open and there was still light inside. I just went in, panic already starting to build in my chest. Stiles was sitting at his computer, he turned and looked up. He looked like he had a long night.

“Stiles, is…” I swallowed thickly, “Is Derek d-…Dead?” My lip was trembling. He opened his mouth to answer then closed it. He avoided my eyes.

“I really don’t know.” He explained what happened at the school that night. How the alpha attacked them and chased them around the school and that when they got out, Derek’s body was gone.

“I don’t know if he crawled off somewhere or if the alpha dragged him away before the cops showed up. But I’m pretty sure I won’t have to go back to school until Monday. We tried to blow the alpha up. And we also kinda blamed Derek for it.”

I shook my head and chuckled, “Nice. Throwing a dead man under the bus, after all he’s done for me.”

“It wasn’t my idea!” He shouted in a hushed tone, “We thought he was dead for sure. But now I don’t know. Besides, we couldn’t give up the big secret to a hunter’s daughter, a dick, and Lydia who has been through enough already.” I nodded and left the room. He called after me but I couldn’t be in the room anymore. Just… they could have blamed anyone. A rabid animal even, but they were blaming Derek. I closed the door and leaned against it, slowly sliding down until I met the floor. My chest felt tight and I wanted to cry. I had cried so much lately I didn’t know if I could. My emotions were running so high and it was so confusing? Why was everything so different?

It was Monday morning and tonight was another full moon, meaning Scott was jumpy and could turn at any moment. The night before they had gone off to “hang” but Stiles was really bad at hiding the alcohol he had taken to get drunk with Scott.

I was eating cereal at the kitchen table when Stiles came down. He was groaning and definitely hungover.

“Booze doesn’t pay, does it?” I smiled.

“You’re more chipper than usual.” He grimaced a bit, holding his head.

“Not chipper, just really good at fakin’ it.” I went in for another spoonful. He looked away, hearing Uncle Noah coming through the kitchen on his phone.

“We are watching his family’s house. Maybe he’ll wind up there?” Uncle Noah looked up, seeing Stiles, “Give me a second.”

“Don’t you have a test to get to?” He asked.

“What’s going on? Did you find Derek yet?” Stiles asked, more pep in his voice.

“I’m working on it. You go take your test.” He said firmly.

“All right, Dad, listen to me-” Stiles stood up.

“Go!” He shouted, I had never heard him shout before.

“This is really important! You have to be careful tonight, okay? Especially tonight.”

“Stiles, I’m always careful.”

“Dad, you’ve never dealt with this kind of thing before, okay? At least, not like this.”

“I know. Which is why I brought in people who have. State detective. Go take your test.” Stiles grumbled but grabbed his book bag and left the house. Uncle Noah sighed and went back to his phone call as he followed Stiles out the door.

Later on in the day, Stiles texted me. He probably shouldn’t be, especially with his test.

STILES: Scott had a panic attack about Allison. He said he might kill someone.

I sighed, my thumbs dancing over the phone screen.

(Y/N): Then we’ll chain him up so he can’t get out. I’ll pick up some chains at the hardware store.

After a stop at the hardware store, I got to the lacrosse fields where Coach Finstock was looking over a list.

“How’s the pink-eye epidemic?” I asked. He rolled his eyes.

“Real good, half of my players had to go on the bench. Goddammit, Greenberg.” I looked over the list.

“Who’s Bilinski?” I squinted at his sloppy writing.

“That one.” He pointed his pen towards Stiles.

“You put Stiles on the first line?” I smiled, perhaps my subtle hints had worked.

“Yeah, and we made McCall co-captain.”

I blew air out of my mouth, “I’m sure Jackson shit a brick.”

He shook his head, “Yeah, he’s not taking it well.” I shrugged and made my way over to the bench where Scott and Stiles were in the middle of a conversation. I didn’t join, just listened in.

“Yeah, she likes you. She’s totally into you.” Scott smirked. Stiles grinned, clearly excited. The She in this scenario could be none other than Lydia Martin. But there was something about Scott’s tone that threw me off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lydia making her way to her seat in the bleachers, pulling out a compact mirror and fixing her lipstick. I didn’t want to believe that Scott would do that to his friend, but the facts were pointing towards it.

Practice seemed to be going well, that is until Scott got pushed over during a practice run. I could practically feel his anger from across the field.

“All right, you’re up, big boy! Let’s go!” Coach called. Scott retaliated this by knocking into another player, and sending him hard on his back. I winced, intaking a breath through my teeth.

“That’s it, McCall! That’s the spirit! You earn it! Earn it, McCall!” Coach grinned. Maybe this is why we had so many players on the bench. Coach could see victory when Scott played. It was Stiles' turn on the offensive against Scott. With the full moon so close, I don’t think their friendship would do Stiles any favors, he shoved Stiles away just as hard and fast as the other player. Each time he got a goal. The next player, Danny, also was a victim of werewolf rage since Scott hit him in the face, sending him to the ground. I grabbed Coach’s whistle and blew it, calling for the play to pause.

I jogged up to Danny and knelt down, some other players surrounded as well.

“Danny, can you hear me?” He nodded slowly, holding his bleeding nose. I stood up, “Take him to the bench guys.” I walked back over to Stiles and Scott.

“Everybody likes Danny. Now everybody’s gonna hate you.”

“I don’t care.” Scott said smugly. Stiles shook his head and went back to the benches.

“What the hell is your problem? You make co-captain and it goes to your head.” I shoved his shoulder. He breathed out, his eyes glowed yellow

“You don’t want to mess with me right now.”

I narrowed my eyes, “Is that a threat?” He smirked, his eyes going up and down my body.

“It could be.” I looked at him in disgust.

“First Lydia and now me? You’re a really shitty friend, Scott.” I made my way back to Stiles who was staring back at the bleachers. Jackson and Lydia were talking.

“He did it.” He whispered. I squeezed his arm lightly. It was going to be a long night.

That night, Stiles and I went to the McCall’s house to get prepared for the full moon. Stiles carried a duffle bag to the best of his ability, even though it had the steel chains and locks I had bought. One of the only reasons I came was so if I needed to I could get him out quickly. The other was because I didn’t know how he would react to the situation with Lydia. Stiles unlocked the door and went inside. Did Mrs. McCall know he had a key?“

Scott?” We heard her call. Mrs. McCall turned the corner and saw us in the hallway. She was in her scrubs, probably going in for a late night shift.

“Stiles.”

“And (Y/N).” I waved.

“Ah.” Her eyes went to Stiles' hand, she pointed, “Key.”

“Oh, yeah, I had one made.” Well, that answers that question.

“That doesn’t surprise me. It scares me, but it doesn’t surprise me” And then, like a buffoon, Stiles dropped the duffel bag with a heavy thud.

“What is that?”

“Uh, school project.” He lied. Mrs. McCall, who either believed the lie or just wanted to change the subject, asked: “He’s okay, right?”

“Who, Scott? Yeah, totally.” Stiles lied.

“He just doesn’t talk to me, not much anymore. Not like he used to.” She said somberly. I could only imagine that’s how my mom felt when I went into high school and into a phase where parents were uncool.

“Well, he had a bit of a rough week.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get it. Yeah. Um, okay. Uh, be careful tonight.”

“You, too.”

“Full moon.” She looked out the window. Stiles and I stiffened.

“What?”

“There’s a full moon tonight. You should see how the ER gets. Brings out all the nutjobs.”

“Oh.” He breathed out, both of our shoulders dropped.

“Yeah…” She said awkwardly.

“Right…”

“You know, it’s, um, actually where they came up with the word "lunatic.”

We opened the door to Scott’s room. Stiles dropped the duffel and turned on the lights. We both jumped when we saw Scott sitting in his computer chair.

“Oh my god.” I put a hand on my chest, trying to catch my breath.

“Dude, you scared the hell out of us. Your mom said you weren’t home.”

“I came in through the window.” he said blankly. Stiles and I shared a glance.

“Okay, um, let’s get this set up.” Stiles bent down to get into the duffel bag that was near the radiator, “(Y/N) got the heavy duty stuff.” I kept my distance from Scott, staying right by the door, ready to grab Stiles and book it.

“I’m fine,” Scott said, causing us both to stare, “I’m just gonna lock the door and turn in early.” We all knew a door wouldn’t stop him, he had other plans in mind.

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked, “Cause you got this kinda serial killer look goin’ on in your eyes. I’m hopin’ it’s the full moon taking effect cause it’s starting to freak me out.”

“I’m fine.” Scott repeated, “You should both go home.”

“Alright, we’ll leave.” He stood up then stopped, clearly trying to put his back up plan into motion, ‘Well would you at least look in the bag and see what we bought? You know, maybe you use it, maybe you don’t.”

“Just in case you’re feeling a little anxious.” I smiled. Scott got up and walked to the duffel bag. He bent down and pulled out the thick, metal chains.

“You’re thinking I would put these on? Chain me up like a dog?” He snarled and dropped the chains.

“Actually, no.” Stiles quickly pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and slapped him on Scott’s wrist, chaining him to the heater. I grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him away when Scott lunged.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Scott growled.

“Protecting you from yourself.” Stiles sighed and glared, “And giving you payback. For making out with Lydia.” And there it was. Maybe I should have checked the bag for other items he bought. He went downstairs, leaving me and Scott in the bedroom.

“(Y/N), uncuff me!” He struggled.

I shook my head, “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I don’t have the key.”

He lunged and growled, causing me to jump. I looked away, embarrassed that I was showing him that I was afraid. But I was afraid. I’ve known this kid practically his entire life and he was turning into a completely different and dangerous person.

“You like that? Hmm?” He hummed suggestively. I shook my head, talking to him was probably going to just make things worse. Thankfully, Stiles had come back…with a dog bowl.

“I brought you some water.” He said, pouring water from a bottle into the bowl and setting it down in front of Scott.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU” Scott roared and threw the bowl at Stiles.

“Stiles…” I whispered. The situation was getting dangerous.

“You kissed her, Scott! Okay? You kissed Lydia. And that’s my…The one girl that I have-'' Stiles shook his head, “You know, for the past three hours, I’ve been thinking it’s probably just the full moon, you know? He doesn’t even know what he’s doing and tomorrow he’ll be back to normal. He probably won’t even remember what a complete dumbass he’s been. A son of a bitch. A frickin’ unbelievable piece of crap friend.”

“She kissed me.” Scott interrupted.

“What?” Stiles looked so betrayed.

Scott grinned menacingly, “I didn’t kiss her, she kissed me.” Stiles glared and walked out of the room, I followed behind.

“She had her hands all over me, she would have done anything I wanted! ANYTHING!” Scott’s voice rang through the house. Stiles paced back and forth outside the door.

“Stiles?” Scott called through the door, “Please let me out. It’s the full moon, I swear! You know I wouldn’t do any of this on purpose. Stiles, let me out. This is starting to hurt. You said it, Stiles, it’s the full moon. It’s Allison breaking up with me. It’s not just a break, she broke up with me. It’s killing me! I’m feeling hopeless. Just let me out.” Stiles paused, looking towards the door. I looked him in the eye, shaking my head.

“He’s just trying to make you feel bad.”

Stiles nodded, “I can’t.” He called.

“No! No no no!” Scott shouted, followed by screaming. And then silence. Stiles opened the door, Scott was gone. Only broken handcuffs remained. I grabbed a set of chains and started going downstairs.

“Stiles, stay here.”

“(Y/N)!” He called, grabbing my arm before I went out the door.

“Stay put.” I glared, shutting the door behind me. Scott was a sweet kid normally. But if I needed to keep Stiles safe and if that meant knocking out a couple of his teeth then I would. I went around back to his window and followed the path of broken grass into the woods. I gripped onto the chains tightly, ready to swing if I needed to. My plan had been to knock him out and chain him to a tree. Not sure how well that would work though.

I stopped in a clearing, having lost the trail. Behind me a twig snapped. I’ve always been an act first, ask questions later in these situations. I swung the chain, cracking Scott across the face. My eyes widened at the state of him. Like Derek, he had coarse hair growing down his cheeks, the bridge of his nose was scrunched up and appeared more animal like, his brow bone protruded. His jawline though? Still weird.

Scott’s head had swung to the side with the chain, he looked back slowly, and glared as he spit blood onto the ground. The scrape on his cheek healed almost immediately.

Ha ha, I’m in danger.

“Scott.” I said cautiously, taking a slow step back, “You know me. I’m your friend.” He wasn’t moving closer, but he also hadn’t stopped looking at me with his glowing yellow eyes like I was food.

“So, uh, you blow off your steam. Do some running, clear your head, that good stuff. And I will see you tomorrow. Okay?” I smiled nervously, he didn’t answer, “Okay.” Now it was time to run since I had gotten myself a decent head start. I turned and ran, hearing a roar and footsteps behind me. I threw the chains back over my head, hoping to trip him or hit him in the head. That didn’t seem to do much since he didn’t slow down.

All at once I was body slammed to the ground and turned on my back. Scott was sitting on top of me, leaning down he roared loudly in my face. His large pointed canines shone in the moonlight.

I screamed, shoving and kicking at him, “SCOTT! SCOTT PLEASE!” He thrusted a clawed hand down towards my chest that I barely caught. He seemed slightly confused, but pushed down. I whined, using everything I had keeping his sharp claws from my chest. I couldn’t even breathe.

“Scott, please don’t hurt me.” I begged through my teeth. He roared again, raising his other arm to strike when something flashed across my vision. Whatever it was, it knocked Scott off of me. I gasped for air, my lungs and muscles were screaming at me. The two began to fight, growling and snarling. I sat up, scrambling to get out of the direction of the brawl. I couldn’t see much in the dark since the clouds had covered the moon, but whoever it was got Scott on the ground, roaring down at him. The other stood up straight just as the moon’s light peaked through. And there stood Derek Hale - tall, proud, and very much alive.

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Read part 7 here!

Oh boy, who could have seen that coming? Anyone who’s seen season 1, that’s who.

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated!

Comment below or message me about being on the taglist :)

You Saved Me tag:

@nyotamalfoy

@fruitloopzzz

@babygirl-angel-love

@aestheticeggs (hi eggy)

#derek hale x reader #teen wolf fic #teen wolf x reader

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livinghostly · 4 years ago

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insomnia

isaac lahey x reader

not my gif!

words: 1820

request: "can you write some isaac lahey fluff where he helps the reader sleep 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 sorry if this is weird! i've been having a lot of trouble sleeping recently and imagining isaac is the only thing that helps :("

a/n: i described my personal experiences with being unable to sleep, it might not be the same for everyone but i hope it helps/you enjoy it regardless🥺

[...]

you weren't sure how long it'd been since the lights were turned off– two hours, maybe three. in all that time you'd been laying in your bed motionless, staring down the dresser a few feet away from you. there wasn't much to see, it was so dark, but you knew what was there. the outlines of picture frames of you and the members of your pack.

one of them was with isaac, taken by lydia, on a day you'd all gone to the pool. well, a kiddy pool stiles had set up in his backyard since lydia wasn't too comfortable with the public one anymore. you and isaac were sitting on two scrappy lawn chairs pulled from the garage, and he'd mumbled something mean about stiles. you failed to hold back a laugh while insisting it wasn't funny, and he watched you with a smile.

it was one of the very few pictures you had together. in most of them his eyes were glowing, casting a glare over the picture making it near impossible to see. but when he closed his eyes or wasn't looking at the camera, it was almost as if he wasn't a werewolf.

your eyes fluttered around the room, getting glimpses of color when the occasional car would pass by and it's lights would shine through your window. there was an arm wrapped around your torso that prevented you from moving too much, and you didn't want to wake him up.

isaac didn't snore, but he did talk. mumbled sentences under his breath– and when they were said loud enough for you to hear, they didn't make any sense. but his ramblings weren't what was keeping you awake.

when you had crawled into bed you thought you were tired, and you still were. the day had exhausted you, stretching you to your limits mentally and physically. you closed your eyes and tried to settle, but you would open them again every few minutes and be left looking at the same wall.

it got hot. you shuffled your feet, kicking around at the bottom of the blanket until you could let your foot breathe off of the side of the bed. as you cooled off, the shadows in the corners of your room began to grow, you pulled your foot back under the blanket in fear and scooted yourself farther into isaac's chest.

you thought about tomorrow. if you didn't fall asleep now, would you have enough energy to make it through the day? what were you going to face tomorrow? it seemed as if every day, the supernatural conflict in beacon hills was getting worse. you wondered what it would be like three months from now, or even farther down the road.

as your contemplation began to escalate, you became uncomfortable in the position you were in. hyper aware of the blanket against your skin and your hair bunched up against you, you felt an itch crawl over your body. isaac's grasp, although soft, felt constricting.

gently, you plucked his hand off of your waist and laid it between your back and his chest. he stirred, shoving his head deeper into his pillow, muffling his sleep mumbles, and he shifted himself on the mattress. you tossed your side of the blanket over him and sat up on the bed, letting your bare feet hit the floor.

glancing over your shoulder, you read the alarm clock. 2:03 a.m.

the door creaked open, leading you to the hall. there was a single light at the end, the sudden adjustment to the brightness made you squint your eyes. your steps were light as you nearly tiptoed through your house.

you slipped into the kitchen, the tile was cold against the pads of your feet. flicking the the light switch you turned on an overhanging light on the kitchen table, dull enough to keep your eyes from straining but illuminating enough to help you watch your step.

you opened the fridge and dragged out a jug of milk, the sudden weight tugging your arm down before you pulled it up on the counter. you poured yourself a cup before putting it in the microwave and setting the time for thirty seconds.

as the machine hummed, your gaze flickered to the window above the sink. you reached over and opened the blinds, pulling them up to see outside. the outside lights from your neighbor's house shined brightly and you could see the trees shaking with harsh wind against them.

before the microwave could go off you opened the door, preventing any loud beeps from alerting anybody to wake up. the cup was warm in your hands and steam rose from the milk, you took a small sip and let it run down your throat with a grimace. it wasn't calming or immediately effective as you had hoped, it just smelled bad.

you leaned over the sink again to peer out the window, looking up at the sky. it was gloomy, with storms clouds rolling in and covering the view of the moon. it was eerily quiet, standing there as you sipped on warm milk.

isaac didn't know how to be inconspicuous. from the other side of the house, you could hear his feet shuffling against a rug. his shoulder hit the wall and you raised your eyebrows in amusement, imagining the string of curses he let out as he recollected himself and dragged his feet into the kitchen. you smiled to yourself, pulling the cup to your lips.

as he approached, his eyes narrowed towards the microwave with one second left on the clock, and the jug of milk still on the counter. he dragged it off the counter and put it back in the fridge.

"i thought that was just a myth," he said, taking a few steps closer to you. "like, a placebo. parents telling their kids it'll work so they'll believe it and fall asleep."

"if it was a placebo, it won't work now that i know. so, thanks for that," you deadpanned. he mumbled an apology and wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing himself closer to your. you tilted your head and poured the rest of the milk in the sink, before setting the cup down. "s'fine. tasted like shit, anyway."

he started to smile, you could feel it against your shoulder blade. but he didn't say anything else.

"you shouldn't be up," you said, turning around to face him.

he lifted his head up, and you could finally see the lazy grin he kept on his face. his eyes were heavy with sleep, not fully awake, you knew he wanted to crawl back into your bedroom.

"i can't sleep without you."

a moment of silence passed between you, you looked to the floor and shrugged without saying anything. he knew the trouble you had with sleeping, it's why he started staying over more. it helped sometimes.

the pattern of rain hitting the window caught his attention, he glanced behind you. one of his hands fell from your waist, and he played with your fingers delicately. "what were you thinking about? i can still smell the anxiety."

"i don't know. tomorrow. the day after. the month after. all this... supernatural bullshit and how it's never going to end," you sighed dramatically, meeting his eyes again. "it feels like a lot sometimes."

"you're starting to sound like stiles, you know."

"is that bad?" you hummed, a playful smirk dawning your lips.

"i don't want to date stiles. i want to date y/n..." he tilted his head, and his tone changed. "derek told me a while ago, that in pack, burdens are shared, you know? all of us are in this together, and these aren't things that only you are responsible for or are even in control of... things are going to get messy, but you have me. you have the pack."

you weren't alone. the thought made you feel better, and a lazy smile ghosted your lips. "when did you become so wise, lahey?"

"i'm not, really. just regurgitating everything derek told me."

"it was a compliment, isaac. take it."

he chuckled, and took a step backwards. he still held your hand and tugged it along with him. "come back to bed."

a bolt of lightning from outside cast a flicker throughout the downstairs, followed by the roar of thunder as the storm became overhead. against all windows, the rain began to beat against it harder than before.

you nodded and pushed yourself away from the counter, following his footsteps as he head you up the stairs. as you passed the light switches you turned them off, casting a glance behind you like second nature to watch for any sudden movement in the dark.

once in your room he let go of your hand and shut the door behind you, before turning and crawling over your bed. you watched with a content smile as he childishly adjusted himself under the covers, before he gestured with open arms to join him.

his chest was warm and inviting, even through the material of his shirt. you laid against his side, his arm wrapping around you and resting on your back while his other hand was occupied with you interlocking your fingers.

isaac's heartbeat was slow and steady, while the rain quickly slapped against the windows. the rhythm began to slowly lull you into tiredness again. he gently rubbed up and down your back, breaking through your stiffness and relaxing you. every blink was longer than the last and you could feel yourself sink into his hold.

"things are going to get better, you know," he suddenly said, his voice was lower as he got more sleepy. he was fighting to stay awake. "and whatever we face next, we'll get through it."

"i hope so," you mumbled, and looked up at him.

you looked up at him, and his eyes were already on you. you couldn't help but become lost in your thoughts as you admired him. you couldn't be in a better place at that moment, everything was incredibly peaceful amidst the raging storm and the overwhelming supernatural presence. he kept you together.

gently, you separated your hands and pulled down his head to kiss him. it last a few seconds until you pulled away with a smile, seeing the lazy smirk on his face.

"i love you."

"i love you, too," isaac kissed your forehead, and you deflated against his chest again. "goodnight, y/n."

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey fluff #isaac lahey #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf oneshot #spleen writes

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samdeancass · 4 years ago

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Eichen House

Requested by: @hollandfangirl

Pairing: Stiles x reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Characters: Stiles, Y/N, Scott

T/W: mention of extreme anxiety

Description: Stiles has to find a way to rescue Y/N from Eichen House

"WE NEED TO GER HER OUT OF THERE, NOW!"

Stiles has been pacing the floor for the past half an hour, ever since he found out you were taken to Eichen House. He sat on the edge of Scott's bed and held his head in his hands, tears springing to his eyes. "Please guys, she doesn't deserve to be in that place. God knows what they're doing to her."

Scott could feel the sadness and anxiety coming off his best friend in waves. He hated seeing Stiles like this. The only thing he could do was take control of the situation and devise a plan to get you out of Eichen House. Scott walked forward and placed a comforting hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Don't worry, Stiles. We will get her back. She's important to all of us."

Scott walked to the centre of his bedroom to address the rest of the pack. "Alright, guys. We need to come up with a foolproof plan to get Y/N out. We've only got one chance to do it, so let's do it right. Let's bring Y/N back to us."

Screaming. That was all Stiles heard as he made his way down a hallway. At his side was Scott and Derek, helping to track down your position. Kira and Malia were standing guard at the entrance of the hallway, whilst Lydia had shut off all of the electricity as a distraction.

Stiles buckled as he heard another ear piercing scream. He covered his ears with his hands and backed up against the wall, letting out quiet sobs. "C'mon, Stiles. We're close. Really close. Don't give up, she needs you." Stiles took a big breath to steady his nerves and stood up, giving Scott a thankful glance.

Footsteps sounded at the other end of the hallway. In a panic, Scott, Stiles and Derek lumbered into the closest room in an effort to not be seen. They all let out a sigh of relief and turned around to explore the room. Scott and Derek both began to sniff loudly, indicating they could smell your scent. "Stiles, she's really close now. Her scent is stronger than ever."

Stiles searched high and low in the room but found absolutely nothing. "I don't understand, where in the hell is she? I thought you said that she was close!" Stiles grabbed Scott's shirt and pushed him against the wall. Derek cleared his throat and motioned to a hidden door behind a cabinet. Immediately, Stiles' hands fell to his sides and he made his way into the hidden room, pushing Derek aside.

You heard footsteps outside of the room and immediately began to quake with fear. Two days. It had been two days since you were checked into Eichen House. You had heard stories about Eichen from Stiles and other people, but you never expected it to be like this.

You were suffering from hallucinations and extreme anxiety and wanted a safe place where you could recover. Sadly, as you found out, that would not be happening.

You were strapped to a gurney, unable to move whilst the 'doctors' performed experiments on you. Tears spilled out of your eyes when the doorknob began to move. You closed your eyes and began to sob. "Please, no more. I can't handle anymore. I just want to go home."

You felt two warm hands cradle your face. Opening your eyes warily, you seen Stiles, your knight in shining flannel. He unstrapped you from the gurney and pulled you into a hug. "I'm here now, I'm taking you home. Nobody's ever gonna hurt you again, trust me." Stiles cradled your face and brought you in for a passionate kiss.

Scott and Derek came running in, yelling about needing to go. Stiles scooped you up into his arms and followed the two wolves, being careful not to hurt you.

The images of the frightening events were permanently engraved into your memories. Every time you closed your eyes, you relived every second. Tears began streaming down your face as you began to sob silently. "Y/N? What's the matter, baby?"

Stiles walked into the room and sat down beside you, pulling you into his side. You buried your face into his chest and let out almighty sobs. Everything that had happened all came out in that moment. "It's alright now, sweetheart. You're safe. I'm going to help you through this, mark my words. I love you, Y/N L/N, and nobody is ever going to harm you again."

Stiles kissed the top of your head and began to stroke your hair, an action that immediately calmed you. After a few minutes, Stiles heard little snores coming from you and smiled slightly before cradling you in his arms and falling asleep.

#stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #scott mccall #derek hale #lydia martin #kira yukimura #malia tate #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf

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dex-xe · 3 years ago

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I’ve made Spotify playlists inspired by each of the ghosts and I’ve made these little written pieces to talk about them. if you wanna read them, please go ahead - if not then enjoy the music!!

This is Humphrey’s playlist:

Body - Mother Mother

I wish I were sorry, but I’m honestly not. There’s no real consensus regarding what the song is actually about. I usually interpret it as being about body/gender dysphoria which isn’t really relevant here but I guess it links to the separation between body and soul and the idea that the body doesn’t define you which I think is quite relevant to Humphrey who relies on his soul for attention from others rather than his physical presence in a room.

Sign of the Times - Harry Styles

I feel like Humphrey probably has the most reasonable understanding of the passage of time of all the ghosts. He’s very down to earth compared to the rest of them. I know Robin has been there longer but I think he’s probably accepted the change of time without really considering it philosophically, whereas with Humphrey getting lost all the time he’s probably had more time to contemplate and I think he’d appreciate the song to listen to while he’s stuck various places. Also he’d like he piano, Humphrey’s a kinda piano man you can’t tell me otherwise (no Billy Joel fuck off).

Greensleeves - Ralph Vaughan Williams & Philharmonia Orchestra

This’ll come up a lot in various other ghosts’ playlists but I’ve tried to include some music from each of their time periods to try and capture what they would have heard so yeah, enjoy some Tudor music.

Tilted - Christine and the Queens

It’s been established that Humphrey’s wife was French so I felt the need to include at least a little bit of French which this song obviously captures. Also again it’s kinda the idea of not having total control over your body.

Abracadabra - Steve Miller Band

No idea why it’s just a Humphrey song I will take no criticism on this.

Don’t Look Back In Anger - Oasis

The scene with Fanny and Humphrey talking about their marriages is one of my favourite scenes and basically the whole “marriage went wrong but you can’t look back at it with contempt because it’s over now and time’s moved on” is what he was trying to say to Fanny and aid her recovery from her marriage trauma in the same way that Humphrey has healed from his.

High and Dry - Radiohead

I also see this song in reference to that scene with Fanny because it’s like no precise meaning to my knowledge but I interpret it as being about telling someone to let go of other people and what’s happening with them and focus on yourself and what you need.

My Iron Lung - Radiohead

Humphrey’s death is constrained by the decisions he made in life that brought about his death, which is kindaaaaa the meaning of the song like it’s a stretch. Like it’s actually about Radiohead being constrained by Creep as one of their most successful songs but like the idea of being stuck in a box and not being able to live freely. I really want to learn more about Humphrey’s life in the new series cause like, I want development to show how his beheading was brought about and what it’s like to live his… death completely restrained by his situation.

Body Terror Song - AJJ

“I’m so sorry that you have to have a body, one that will hurt you, and be the subject of so much of your fear, it will betray you, be used against you, then it'll fail on you my dear”. There we go!! Humphrey’s body wanders away - newsflash from me.

Eleanor Rigby - The Beatles

“A ballad for the lonely”, catch me crying over Humphrey as usual. But yeah obvious reason is cause Humphrey is often left alone and unable to interact with the others. The other thing I like to think when listening to this song is about the idea of lonely people noticing the little details no one else does, in the song it’s clearly the little details about the protagonists lives (Eleanor Rigby picking up tiny grains of rice with no one to help, and Father McKenzie writing sermons no one will hear) but Humphrey - like I think many lonely people — notices little things like Francis writing the letter to Thomas etc.

Where Is My Mind? - Pixies

Idk this song is just trippy. I remember reading ages ago that it was about scuba diving. But yeah, I primarily think it’s a Humphrey song because I just like the image of his body wandering aimlessly about the house with this song looking for his head XD

Waterloo Sunset - The Kinks

Again, I’ve said this a few times now but Humphrey being an observer of Button House and what takes place within it’s walls, just watching the others going about their days as he sits alone. I know the writer said he watched the world from the window of a hospital as a child and I think being able to watch over the city without being able to participate because of physical ailment is pretty telling.

O Lord, in Thy Wrath - Orlando Gibbons & Choir of Clare College, Cambridge

This is just a Tudor song. I grew up very very religious and, while I’m not sure I heard this exact song, I spent hours upon hours in church services every week with songs very similar to this and the music was the only thing I actually enjoyed about it. But yeah, I wanted to include at least a few religious songs in Humphrey’s because of my theory regarding his death which (given that we might find out about it in season 3 and I might be totally wrong) I’m gonna just briefly mention XD I basically think his death might’ve been religiously motivated because of the instability of state sanctioned religion in England at the time. Elizabeth I (monarch when Humphrey died) put 200 Catholics to death and given that Humphrey was married to a French woman and the French were under Catholic rule at the time it might not be too far outside the realm of possibility for Humphrey to have lost his head for being the ‘wrong’ denomination. Idk, probably miles off cause I’m really bad at theories but we’ll find out soon hopefully!!

Pantyhose and Roses - Echobelly

Just for the line “it could change but it never will”. Being a ghost must be such a difficult existence because there’s very little they can do to change what’s wrong because they obviously can’t leave where they die. But especially for Humphrey, nothing can change really for him because of his situation.

Waltz #2 (XO) - Elliott Smith

“I’m never gonna know you now, but I’m gonna love you anyhow”. As far as we know Humphrey’s relationship with his wife obviously wasn’t the best and it seems as if he possible barely knew her cause of the language barrier and the fact it was an arranged marriage.

After Hours - The Velvet Underground

This song has such a feeling of isolation like wishing that you could be a part of everyone’s fun but you’ve yet to find the person with whom you can experience that fun with.

Out of Time - Blur

I’ve said it before I’ll say it again but the idea of noticing the small things around you and focussing on the bigger picture of the world rather than hyper fixating on the intricacies of our own existence. Also, this is totally irrelevant but there’s an episode of Torchwood called ‘Out of Time’ in which three people from the 1950s suddenly rock up in 2000s Cardiff and the Torchwood 3 team have to take care of them and try to teach them about the modern world (it’s one of my favourite episodes, like it’s genuinely really good) and I think that’s really cool.

Blackstar - David Bowie

The song is just sad and I put it on any playlist of a sad character, no further explanation.

Why do I use my paper, ink and pen? - William Byrd, Stile Antico & Fretwork

More Tudor music, Tudor musiccccc.

25 Minutes to Go - Johnny Cash

Obvious but yeah there we go: just basically a man waiting and being led to his death which, if the assassination theory is to be believed (which we shall soon find out I guess) then the idea of Humphrey being led to his death is potentially gonna be a sorrowful story to hear about in the show??

#bbc ghosts humphrey #bbc ghosts

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papel-creativo · 5 years ago

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Nature’s Lullaby - Isaac Lahey x Reader (P.5)

Summary: Based on season 2.

Tags: @slytherinrising

Author’s note: This one is long, I think.

Things aren't getting better. Another murder happened, done by the same thing that killed Isaac's father. But now the thing has a name, kanima, and Scott and Stiles found the bestiary, which is in Latin.

“I came here as fast as I could” (Y/N) approaches the pair.

“We have the book, but we can't read it”

“What are we going to do?” Apparently, the kanima is stronger and faster than the werewolves, and has a venom that paralyzed people.

“We need all the help we can get” Scott looks at her seriously “Are you in?”

“Yes”.

First class at the next day, Isaac's there, giving (Y/N) his back. Scott and Stiles are worried, Derek is trying to find the kanima and kill it, but they aren't going to let that happen.

She sits near the boys, unsure how to be around Isaac, who supposedly isn't on the same side as they are. Should she talk to him like everything is fine? The werewolf flirted with her and said all those things, but haven't talked to her again.

“How is he here?” She whispers to Stiles, but (Y/N) knows that he can hear her still.

“Jackson testified in favor of Isaac, he's not a suspect anymore”.

He and Erica seem close, they walk through the halls together, Erica grabbing Isaac's jacket, whispering then and there. (Y/N) watched from afar, she doesn't have the right to be wounded, they are nothing, but knowing now that his words weren't true hurt her. She shouldn't have believe him in the first place.

He doesn't even look at her when he passes by, nearly bumping her if she haven't slide in time.

In economy, Jackson informs them that the new pack suspect of Lydia to be the kanima, not after testing Jackson for some reason they don't know.

“All I heard was her name and something about chemistry” He told them. Jackson stare stays on (Y/N) “Your boyfriend is planning to kill Lydia if she's that thing”.

Scott and Stiles look surprised, waiting for an explanation.

“He's not my boyfriend” (Y/N) calmly says “He's just...” Her words died there, not knowing herself what it was all of it with Isaac.

“He's just playing with you” His cousin doesn't have any touch to say it.

“Derek is not going to kill her without proof” Scott says as they're entering the classroom.

“Means they are going to test her”.

“But when and where?” (Y/N) ask them.

“I think here and now".

Ahead of them, there's Erica and Isaac while Lydia is sitting in one of the double tables. The boys immediately sit next to her, one for each side of her.

She goes next to Allison to inform her what's about to happen.

The teacher of chemistry is assigning pairs for today’s experiment, and for her dismay, her first partner is the same boy who's been bugging her heart all day long.

“You seem mad at me” Isaac says and (Y/N) decides not to bother in answering, not angry, but hurt “This is for the better, (Y/N)”.

“I don't believe you” Her words dripping more emotion that she wants to show him “I don't believe anything you say”.

“This is happening, you want it or not” He says harshly “Believe me or not, what I said is true”.

“Prove me then”.

With a ding, he changes station and goes with Stiles, and who seats next to (Y/N) send her looking Scott for help.

“I don't think we've properly introduced, I'm Erica” Her fake innocent face is putting (Y/N) off “(Y/N), right? The girl who killed her parents?”

She freezes. Did he tell her? Did Isaac... She's aware that she didn't told him to keep it a secret, but- She feels so stupid for falling into her pretty smile and words.

“I'm sorry, did I said something wrong? Should I get your depression pills?” (Y/N) isn't going to cry, she's stronger than that, and isn't going to let her have the satisfaction of hurting her.

“Stop” Her voice is perfectly controlled “This isn't funny, Erica, people's pain isn't something you can laugh about” (Y/N) looks at her, only seeing pain in the shewolf eyes, hate for all the laugh and people's mocking “You should know that better that anyone”.

Erica says nothing for a moment, and (Y/N) starts to believe that she'll give her some peace. She's wrong.

“I don't know what's happening between you and Isaac” She grips her wrist strongly “Stay away”

Her powers act against her will, starting to freeze Erica's hand.

The ding sounds again, at long last. She switches, ending up next to Jackson.

“What's going on?” He asks.

“I'm not sure” So much is going on in (Y/N)'s head, but she needs to concentrate on Lydia, she needs them, her life is at risk and (Y/N)'s going to do everything in her power to protect her.

Her experiment should have the form of a crystal and can be eaten. Isaac's sitting next to Lydia, and she is the one who gives the first bite, the one that probably has the venom.

Nothing happens to her.

The pack rushes to Scott's house, bringing Lydia, and even Jackson. Scott couldn't convince Derek not to kill her, and still hasn't showed up in his house, meaning that if Derek finds them, there is little they can do.

Lydia and Jackson are upstairs while Stiles, Allison and (Y/N) stay by the front door.

When they check on the windows again, Derek's pack are outside, standing, waiting for something. Allison calls Scott, who should be on his way. (Y/N) paces through the hall, if they decide to attack, she needs to be ready.

“Shoot one of them” Stiles tells Allison.

“Which one?”

“If Scott was able to catch an arrow, Derek definitely can” (Y/N) answers.

“Just shoot one of the other three” Stiles is getting impatient.

“You mean two”.

“No, I mean three” Taking a look through the window, Stiles realizes what Allison's talking “Where the hell is Isaac?”

Before any can respond, Isaac attacks Allison, taking the crossbow out of her hand and then knocking Stiles on the ground. (Y/N) stays by the stairs.

Isaac faces her, claws and fangs ready.

“Don't make me do this, (Y/N)”

“And I won't let you kill her” He tries to step closer, but (Y/N) froze his feet, ice keeping him glue to the spot.

“Allison, go” The archer runs up the stairs to protect her friend from whoever decide to enter.

With a roar, Isaac breaks free and pushes her to the side, but the girl is smarter, and as she falls, the girl forms a wall, trapping the werewolf's hands.

“You said that everything that happened that night was true, that you mean it, how I am supposed to believe you now?”

“It was” Isaac says as he tries to break free “This is for the better”.

“We can save her” (Y/N) approaches him slowly “If it happened to you, I would want to save you too” She whispers “Please”.

The werewolf looks at her, his eyes blue instead of yellow, and with human teeth.

The ice slowly starts to disappear, freeing his hands with normal nails.

“Get away from (Y/N)” Scott’s timing is awful, not actually seeing the interaction between the two teens.

“Scott, wait”.

He doesn't listen, knocking the beta. The pack throw Erica and Isaac out, forcing Derek to leave by calling the police.

In the end, they found out that Lydia is not the kanima, it's Jackson.

#isaac lahey x reader #teen wolf x reader #isaac x reader #teen wolf imagine #isaac lahey imagine

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lavenderek · 6 years ago

Note

Betp can you write us something cliche like amnesia fic or something? Pleazzzeee

The first thing Stiles experiences is nausea. The second is sound. It's a very quiet cacophony of voices and footsteps, somewhere far away and to his left; and to his right, beeping. It's familiar, but he can't identify it. The whole world is dark, and he starts to panic; but then he remembers how eyes work. The lights, once he opens his eyes, are bright to a fault: it's painful and white. Stiles groans, just as a lament of his whole situation. Then, then, a person appears.

The person leans over him, startling him. The person is a man, and the man has dark hair and a beard. "Uh," says Stiles eloquently. He has the impulse to start reciting the date and location, but he can't place why, and he can't remember the date and location.

"Stiles," says the person, coming more into focus. He has very stormy eyebrows, dark and low to his eyes. If Stiles could figure out where his arms were, he'd use them to reach up and touch this man's eyebrows. "You got it?" asks the man resignedly.

"No," says Stiles gratefully. "Where and when?"

"Hospital," answers Stormbrows, "August tenth."

Stiles swallows and it's like trying to budge a tennis ball through a sink pipe. Shutting his eyes, he says, "You gotta hook me up with a year, pal."

"God," mutters Stormy. Then, "2019."

"2019," Stiles repeats. That doesn't mean anything. Twenty-nineteen. That's not how numbers work. "That's not real," Stiles breaks it to him.

"It's what?" And oh, oh jesus, if this man doesn't have the most terrifyingly beautiful eyes Stiles has ever seen up close. If his brows are stormclouds, this man's eyes are the sea beneath them, choppy and bluegreen and grey and brown. To top it all off, he looks annoyed and perplexed, and all the while there's something familiar and comforting about him. Stiles falls desperately in love in a matter of seconds. He's gotta have him. "You're out of it," the guy tells him pointlessly.

"I think I'm into dudes," Stiles answers. He's having a revelation. He's revelating. "Jeez. Fuck. Who, what's your name?"

The eyebrows have gone up a little. The guy hesitates. He looks around. Then he looks back at Stiles. He says, "Derek?"

Derek. "Could be worse," soothes Stiles. "Could be Kurt. Could be Skyler. Don't worry."

"I wasn't worried, Stiles."

"I was. But I'm over it. What was it again?"

The guy sighs. "Derek."

Right. Derek. Derek dips out of view. Stiles waits, but Derek doesn't come back. "No," pleads Stiles, "where'd you—come back," he's starting to panic—

"It's fine," Derek comes back, brows furrowed a little. He's showing Stiles a phone. Stiles' eyes can't focus on the words on the screen, but it's clearly a text conversation. "I was just telling your dad you're alive. Relax."

"You relax," croaks Stiles. That gets an unwilling smirk. "Derek," says Stiles. The name fits in his mouth. He thought it was wrong before, but now that he says it out loud, he can tell that it works. "Derek," he says again, "who—where did you come from?"

"California," says Derek. He reaches up and Stiles feels Derek's fingers on his forehead, brushing his hair back maybe. His touch is warm and Stiles wants more of it.

"Are we in California?"

"No, actually. We're in Colorado."

"Oh, god," groans Stiles, "why?"

Derek laughs, then, once and clearly unexpected. Little soft lines at the outside corners of his eyes. His teeth are kind of crooked, too, and it's nice knowing he has one flaw. It means he's real. "Your cousin's wedding," he says. "Destination wedding to Aspen."

"Aspen," Stiles gripes. Derek nods once, magnanimously. Stiles says, "I don't have a cousin."

"You have four cousins," corrects Derek reasonably, "and a fifth on the way."

"Don't like that," Stiles announces. "California," then. And finally, "Derek. Whoever you're dating, are you dating somebody?"

"I," says Derek instinctively. He draws out the sound a little. "I believe I am, yes."

"Okay. Whoever you're dating, can you dump them and run away with me please?"

"Can I what?"

"Run away with me." That phrase sounds familiar. Musical, somehow. Stiles dismisses this. "C'mon. I said please."

"I will gladly dump the person I'm dating," Derek assures him drily. He is clearly amused. "Subject change, Stiles. Do you know why you're here?"

"To meet you," says Stiles sincerely.

"Close. Only not at all—"

"You're joking? I'm not. I want to."

"Stiles—"

"I just need to find my legs."

"Stiles…"

"I wanna run away with you—"

"God, Stiles, you already did," says Derek exasperatedly. "To your cousin's wedding in Aspen. We are dating. I am dating you."

That doesn't compute. How can Stiles be seeing a man when he just realized thirty seconds ago he likes men? How can Stiles be dating this man and not remember it? Nope, "Pretty sure I'd remember that, bucko," says Stiles smugly.

"Evidently not."

"You're a douchebag," Stiles decides. "That's okay.” He takes Derek in again: Derek’s rolling his eyes and facetiously thanking Stiles for granting him permission to be a douchebag. The shitty attitude is what finally convinces Stiles. “We're dating?"

"Yes," stresses Derek.

"Shit," breathes Stiles. Derek's eyes. His beard. Stiles wants him desperately, so bad it aches in his chest. "You're serious." Derek just raises his eyebrows and looks annoyed. "How'd I pull that off?"

"It's anyone's guess," says Derek.

"You're so… attractive—" Derek sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Help me sit up. I want to look at you —”

"Subject change…"

"Prove it."

"I—what?"

"Prove it." Stiles is genuinely anxious to know something, seeing as everything he's said so far has been wrong. Stupidly, he feels his eyes start to well up. "I can't be—I don't remember—Please tell me something—"

"No. Hey. Calm down." Derek's annoyance has melted away. He's brushing Stiles' hair back again, and Stiles catches his breath. "You… you like peanut butter?"

"Everyone likes peanut butter, Derek," says Stiles miserably.

"I don't—fine. You're kind of shitty at lacrosse. You love baseball…"

"What the hell is lacrosse?"

Derek snorts a little, and then presses the back of his hand to his mouth. Then he tries, "Your earliest memory is of your mom grabbing your arm so you wouldn't walk off a pier in Santa Cruz." Stiles blinks up at the ceiling. He remembers that. He remembers crying, and his mom saying, Jesus! Je—jiminy Christmas! "Your two best friends just got engaged," Derek goes on. Stiles doesn't have faces or names, but he recalls an expansive feeling in his chest. "And you're here because you got your gall bladder taken out."

"My gall bladder?"

"You scared," Derek stresses, going stormy again, "the shit out of me."

"My gall bladder."

"Yes."

"If there was ever a less sexy operation to have," begins Stiles. He's swallowing again. Sighing, Derek holds a cup to his lips. Stiles drinks some of it. It's Sprite, mostly flat. That's familiar, too. "How long?" he asks weakly.

"I dunno. A little more than a day…"

"No. How long have you been, uh," Stiles looks at his eyes again. "Tapping this."

"I'm not going to answer that until you phrase it like an adult."

"Googoo gaga," says Stiles irritably. Derek tilts his head to the side, casually, like he's observing a TV show. "How long have we been, um, dating?"

Derek smirks a little, and then looks at the wall above Stiles' head. "You're gonna get mad if I tell you."

"No, I'm not."

"You are. You're gonna be mad."

"Unless it's one hour, I don't…"

"Three years."

He looks back at Stiles. And he was right. Stiles is mad. "I'm not mad."

"Yes, you are."

How could Stiles have forgotten three years? "I'm not mad."

"Stiles, I can tell you're mad. I'm gonna get the nurse."

"Don't get the nurse. Hold my hand."

"How about," says Derek, sighing and touching his forehead again, "I get the nurse, and then I come back, and then I hold your stupid hand."

Stiles is exhausted. "Is your body as nice as your face, or is it as shitty as your personality?"

"Back button," says Derek.

"Is it nice?"

"Stop it."

"Tell me."

"Yes. Okay? I'm going now."

Stiles figures out how to turn his head just in time to see Derek walk out the door. "Fuck," he whispers. "It is."

#THIS was stupid #that will be Five Dollars #fic by betp #haters #who is this even #stilesderek

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stilinskishit · 5 years ago

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Too Long (A Stiles Stilinski Fanfic) - Chapter 7

**First couple of posts have a different title but I changed it because I didn’t like it :)**

Summary: Teen Wolf with a female main character alongside Scott and Stiles? Here it is. Ramie McCall is Scott’s twin sister and best friends with both her twin and Stiles. The trio’s friendship means the world to all three of them, so what happens when there are more than friend type of feelings present?

Tags: @multi-madison @purple286 @multifandxm353 @bralessandflawless

A/N: My second favorite teen wolf character is here a bit early :) This chapter is long as fuck and took me forever. I’m keeping to the basic storyline of the show but changing a few things up.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 7 - Formal

Season 1, Episode 8 + 9

Ramie, Stiles, and Scott had a test first period, during which Stiles and Scott took off in the middle of. Ramie tried to follow them, but Harris didn’t believe that all three of them had to use the bathroom at the same time, especially when he already didn’t trust the three of them to even sit near each other during class. Scott and Stiles thankfully came back and finished their tests, and Stiles explained after class that Scott had a panic attack because he was worked up over Allison. Stiles was acting like the night before hadn’t happened at all, and Ramie couldn’t decide if she was thankful or upset about that.

The rest of her classes before lunch Scott and Stiles weren’t in, so she tried her best to put any thought of the previous night out of her head. She found herself at lunch with Allison and Jackson, feeling oddly like a third wheel. Jackson was flirting with Allison hardcore, and Allison seemed to be completely oblivious. Ramie tuned them out until she heard Jackson nearly choke on his food.

“What?” Jackson was looking at Allison like she had four heads.

“Do you… want a bite?” Allison held out her sandwich.

“Oh, I’m okay,” Jackson looked down. “I thought you said something else.”

Ramie narrowed her eyes at him. He had been acting strange, first freaking out the other night at school, the scabs on the back of his neck, then freaking out over the word “bite.” Ramie as beginning to worry Jackson might be a lot more in tune with what was going on in Scott’s world than they thought. She wanted to tell Scott and Stiles, but the two were sitting at a different table across the lunch room, and she didn’t really feel good about leaving Allison and Jackson alone at the table together.

At the end of the school day, Ramie found Scott and Stiles in the hall heading out to lacrosse practice. They were in the middle of a conversation when she arrived, not noticing her behind them at first.

“Can you just, use your scent to see if you pick up on anything with someone?” Stiles was saying. “Like attraction, arousal, anything.”

“Attraction from who?” Ramie butted in, stepping between them then turning back to face them. They both jumped at her sudden arrival.

“Lydia!” Stiles nearly yelled.

“No, Ramie,” Ramie pointed at herself, teasing Stiles.

“No, I mean I’m talking about Lydia,” Stiles stuttered. “Seeing if she likes me.”

“Yeah, I’ll ask,” Scott said, giving the two of them a weird smirk before walking towards Lydia, who was a bit down the hall pulling books from her locker and putting them in her bag. Ramie saw Scott ask Lydia something, then the two of them went into Coach’s office to talk.

“You coming to practice?” Stiles asked suddenly, breaking the silence between the two of them. Ramie looked up at him but broke eye contact almost immediately, unable to get over the awkward feeling between the two of them.

“Nah, I have to write a paper,” Ramie nodded, tugging on her backpack straps. “Gonna go to a coffee shop and try to finish it up. You’re gonna come over to help Scott with the full moon right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Stiles nodded.

“See you later then,” Ramie gave him a small smile before turning on her heel and walking quickly away, desperate to get out of being alone with him. As upset as she was about Stiles saying their kiss didn’t matter, part of her wished it never happened at all. Things were weird between them, which is what she always feared. She never told him her feelings because she didn’t want things to be weird. And now things were exactly that.

…

Ramie ended up spending the whole afternoon writing her paper at a coffee shop near school and got home just as it got dark. Her mom’s car was gone, but Stiles’ jeep was in the driveway. She opened the front door and immediately heard yelling from upstairs.

“You can’t tell her Scott,” Stiles was yelling. “She’s like, the one girl. My one girl.”

“And what if I do Stiles,” Scott’s voice sounded strange, almost robotic and sinister. “She would laugh in your face if she knew. She would never like you.”

“What is going on up here,” Ramie yelled, running up the stairs. She found Stiles sitting on the floor outside Scott’s door, leaning against the wall and looking upset. He glanced at her then turned his head into the room, telling Scott to shut up, even though Scott wasn’t saying anything at the time. Ramie walked past Stiles and looked into Scott’s room, finding him handcuffed to the heater.

“Full moon precautions?” Ramie glanced down at Stiles. He nodded, not looking up at her. She sighed and slid down the wall on the other side of Scott’s door. She could hear him struggling to get out of the handcuffs, but ignored him, knowing it was just to keep him and everyone else safe.

“Stop being a bitch about Lydia,” Ramie said towards Scott, not looking into the room.

“Stiles is just so in love with her,” Scott muttered, making Ramie’s heart twang. “I don’t think he’ll ever have feelings for any other girl. It would be ridiculous for any girl other than Lydia to even think about being with him.”

Ramie started at her hands in her lap. It was almost like Scott was saying these things specifically to hurt her. More clanging came from the room, Scott obviously still struggling against the handcuffs.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s been like this all night, it’s the full moon,” Stiles said from next to her. She could feel his eyes on her but she didn’t look up, just continued to look at her hands. Suddenly there was a loud crash and Stiles and Ramie stood up quickly, running into each other as they tried to enter Scott’s room. However, it was too late. Scott had torn out of the handcuffs and took off out the window.

“Shit,” Stiles muttered. “Should we follow him?”

Ramie moved to the window, sticking her head out of it. The street was empty and quiet, Scott was nowhere to be found.

“Can’t follow him if we can’t find him,” she sighed, sitting back on Scott’s bed. Stiles groaned.

“I’ll go drive around and see if I can find him,” Stiles said, grabbing his keys off Scott’s desk. “Wanna come?"

“Uh, I can’t,” Ramie lied. “Gotta finish my paper.”

Stiles nodded at her, moving towards the door. She got up and followed him out of Scott’s room quickly, saying goodbye to him before going into her own room. They both agreed they would let the other know if either of them saw Scott. Ramie sat in her room the rest of the night, watching Netflix since her paper was actually finished, and tried to not think about the previous night and Scott’s words from earlier. Even though he was probably right. Stiles had the biggest crush on Lydia forever and Ramie told herself she needed to get over her crush on Stiles. Formal was coming up and she figured she could get over Stiles if she found someone else to go with.

She was about to text Lydia and ask if she knew anyone that could take her when she heard the front door open, and voices coming upstairs. One was Scott and the other sounded like Derek. Ramie’s door was closed, the door on her side of the bathroom was open and Scott’s side was open a crack, so she could hear the conversation happening in Scott’s room. Scott was asking Derek if there was a cure to the bite. Derek told Scott that the only cure he had ever heard of was he had to kill the alpha that bit him, aka the huge creature that was chasing them through the school the other night. And Derek didn’t even know if that cure was real.

Ramie was in the middle of texting Stiles that Scott was home safe when she heard Derek walk past her door. Without thinking, she got up quickly, quietly following Derek downstairs. She snuck out the front door, closing it slowly behind her so Scott wouldn’t hear.

“Derek, wait,” she called, running down the walkway to the driveway. Derek was standing outside of his car, the door open but not yet inside.

“You’re lucky I saved your idiot brother’s ass,” Derek told her, closing the car door and leaning against it.

“I’m not here to thank you,” Ramie mimicked his posture, crossing her arms at him. “I wanted to ask you something, a favor.” Derek raised his eyebrows at her, glancing up towards Scott’s window.

“A favor you don’t want Scott to know about?” He questioned. Ramie sighed, following Derek’s gaze. She nodded.

“I want you to teach me how to protect myself,” She tore her gaze away from Scott’s window, meeting Derek’s eyes. He raised his eyebrows at her again. “I know I don’t have wolf powers or anything like that, but I feel so helpless in every situation this shit gets me into. You’re much better at fighting than Scott and I’m sure some is experience and some has to do with wolf powers but-“

“I know some things about hand to hand combat,” Derek shrugged. “Self-defense kind of stuff.” Ramie nodded excitedly.

“Can we just not mention it to Scott or Stiles? I know if they find out they’ll freak out about it and not want me involved.”

“They want to keep you safe,” Derek told her.

“I know, but I want to keep myself safe too,” she fired back. Derek looked like he was considering things.

“Fine,” Derek said, opening his car door again. “Meet me at my house at 6am tomorrow. We’ll train for an hour or so and you can get back home before Scott wakes up.” He closed his car door before saying anything else, backing out of the driveway and driving down the dark street.

…

The next day felt like it went on forever. Ramie got up early to train with Derek, had school, then later that night found herself in a car chase with Scott, Stiles and Derek. The cops were after Derek, thinking he was the murderer from the school, and the Argents were also after him. When Ramie, Scott and Stiles diverted the Argents by driving Dereks’ car, and once they picked up Derek, making sure he evaded the police, they learned that Derek was sure he was close to catching the alpha. After that, it was an extremely awkward ride home shoved in the backseat of Derek’s tiny car, practically on top of Stiles, due to there barely being any space. Ramie was thankful that night to be in bed, her body sore from her training and her mind racing from being in the middle of a car chase, and from being so close to Stiles for the whole drive.

Their next step was stealing Allison’s necklace. Her necklace had some sort of symbol on it that Derek needed to see. Ramie said she wouldn’t steal from her friend, saying she refused to get in the middle of Scott and Allison.

“Just ask her if you can borrow it,” Stiles was saying as the three of them walked into school the next morning.

“How?”

“Easy, just say hey Allison, can I borrow this?” Ramie encouraged.

“Just need to see if there’s anything on it, or in it, that might help me figure out how to kill an Alpha werewolf so I can get back together with you,” Stiles continued, shrugging as if it was simple. Scott raised his eyebrows.

“Just talk to her,” Ramie said.

“I can’t,” Scott whined.

“So steal it,” Stiles shrugged again.

“I can’t do that either,” Scott threw his hands up, defeated. “What if she only takes it off in the shower or something.”

“That’s why you ease back into it, remind her of your good times,” Stiles stopped, turning to Scott, who was looking dreamily at nothing in particular. Ramie furrowed her eyebrows at him, her brother clearly not listening. Stiles shoved him on the chest. “You’re thinking about her in the shower aren’t you.”

Scott smirked, giving a dreamy nod. Stiles scoffed and Ramie pulled a fake gagging noise, turning to continue walking down the hallway.

“Men,” Ramie rolled her eyes as she heard the two boys following after her, mumbling at each other.

“Hey, it’s not just me,” Scott was saying. “Stiles just told me the other day he had a dream about-“ Scott didn’t get the chance to finish as Stiles shoved him, pushing him into the lockers. Ramie turned to the two of them, Scott a smirk on his face and Stiles looking at Scott like he could kill him, his cheeks red.

“I don’t wanna know,” Ramie shook her head, turning and walking to her first class, leaving the bickering boys behind.

…

Ramie’s classes for that day were different from Scott and Stiles, so she didn’t see them until school had ended, when Scott asked Ramie to spy on Allison and Jackson with him. Ramie was hesitant, Allison being her friend, but Scott was pretty upset about Allison breaking up with him, and she decided she needed to put her brother first. She found Scott not so subtly sulking on the bleachers above the pool, staring down at Jackson and Allison, who were swimming laps together. Ramie sat down next to her brother as he pulled open the backpack in front of him. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Is that,” she started, but Scott gave her a death glare. She lowered her voice. “Is that Allison’s bag?”

Scott nodded, rummaging around in the pockets while Ramie looked around, making sure no one was watching to two of them. Ramie huffed at him but didn’t stop him, moving her eyes down to Allison and Jackson in the pool, who were playfully splashing each other. She could tell Scott was not happy about how flirty Jackson was towards Allison.

“Jackson knows,” Scott mumbled, opening another pocket of Allison’s bag. “Knows?”

“About me,” Scott continued. Ramie nodded, not pushing further. She wasn’t surprised. Jackson was conniving and knew practically everything about everyone, which he usually used to his advantage. “He was talking to me today in the lunch room, whispering. He knew I could hear him.”

“He’s a dick,” Ramie said, glaring towards him even though Jackson was preoccupied with with Allison.

“It’s not here,” Scott sighed, closing Allison’s bag.

“You need to just talk to her,” Ramie told her brother, who was about to protest when Ramie’s phone rang. It was Stiles, telling her he was by her locker waiting to bring her home. Stiles was planning on convincing Danny to trace the text Ramie and Allison got on the night that they almost got killed by the alpha, and Ramie had, of course, agreed to help him. Ramie again told Scott to talk to Allison before heading down the stairs towards the hallway to her locker.

She found Stiles playing on his phone, leaned up against the locker next to hers. She couldn’t help but look him over as she approached. He was wearing black jeans and a muted blue flannel over a white tee, not an abnormal outfit for him, but Ramie thought he looked particularly good on that day. He glanced up and Ramie tried to look like she hadn’t been staring, giving him a small smile.

“Hey Raim, ready to-“ Stiles started, before a voice cut him off.

“Ramie,” The voice came from behind her. A tall boy with curly light brown hair stepped out of the classroom she had just walked by. Isaac Lahey, he was in their grade and in most of Ramie’s classes. He was quiet but sweet, and Ramie always thought he was pretty cute. She knew him casually, but she never talked to him outside of class. “Can I talk to you?”

Ramie glanced towards Stiles, who had his eyes narrowed at the two of them. She looked back at Isaac, who was looking at his feet.

“Stiles I’ll meet you at the jeep, okay?” Ramie said to Stiles, who opened his mouth but Ramie gave his a death glare and he closed it again. He huffed but turned down the hallway, leaving Ramie and Isaac alone.

“What’s up Isaac,” Ramie asked, continuing her walk down the hall as he followed, stopping beside her when she got to her locker.

“I was just wondering,” Issac said quietly, Ramie having to listen hard to hear him. “Did you have any plans to go to the dance this weekend?”

Ramie shoved her books in her bag, closing her locker and turning to Isaac, who was still looking at his feet. She hadn’t thought much about the dance, with everything going on she forgot it was so soon.

“I’m sure Lydia will drag me there as she usually does,” Ramie laughed, and Isaac giggled with her. He glanced up, meeting her eyes for a second. He had a soft smile on his face, and Ramie couldn’t help but grin back at him.

“Well I was wondering, maybe we could go together?” Isaac asked, breaking eye contact again and fiddling with the straps on his backpack. “If you wanted to, it’s okay if not.”

“I’d love to,” Ramie said, surprising herself. She had been hoping Stiles would ask her, but she knew deep down there wasn’t a chance of that happening. Isaac was sweet and certainly attractive, so she decided to take the chance with him.

“Really?” Isaac asked, his eyes meeting hers. He looked surprised, though Ramie wasn’t sure why. She always thought that if Isaac was more social he would probably be a hit with any girl or guy in school. He was more the type to purposefully blend in, though. Ramie nodded at him, and smile spread across his face.

“Awesome, okay, cool,” He stuttered. Ramie’s face felt hot, he really was cute. “Can I get your number? We can plan everything out and whatever.”

Ramie put her number in Isaac’s phone and gave him a quick hug before heading out to the parking lot to meet Stiles. She hopped into the front seat of the jeep and buckled up, glancing over at Stiles when she realized he wasn’t starting the car. His eyes were fixed on her, looking confused.

“What?” She asked, almost defensively.

“What are you grinning about? What did Lahey want?”

“Okay detective Stilinski, calm down,” she raised her hands at him as he questioned her. Stiles just continued to look at her.

“Issac asked me to the dance this weekend,” she said casually, looking down at her phone to find a text from Isaac and saving his number.

“And you said?” Stiles questioned again.

“I said yes,” Ramie shrugged. Stiles was silent. She glanced over at him and his eyes were straight ahead, staring out the windshield.

“I didn’t know you were going,” Stiles said after a minute.

“Well Lydia usually drags me along to those things and I figured it would be nice to not third wheel for once,” Ramie told him, not making eye contact. “Isaac’s sweet, he’s in a bunch of my classes.”

“Yeah, he’s on the team,” Stiles grumbled, finally starting up the jeep.

“So you like him, he’s nice?”

“I don’t really know him,” Stiles said. “I’ve heard from other people he has a thing for you.”

“Really?” Ramie looked toward Stiles, who simply nodded. His jaw was clenched. She wondered if Isaac had played more than Stiles or something, which could be why Stiles didn’t seem to like him. She didn’t press him any further the rest of the way home, and didn’t have a chance to bring it up again once they got back to the Stilinski’s, since Derek had shown up in Stiles’ room, still hiding from the police. Stiles explained to Derek that Scott was still trying to get Allison’s necklace, but they were also going to try to trace the texts Ramie and Allison received. When Danny showed up he was not impressed that Stiles’ told him he looked up his arrest records to find out that Danny would be able to trace the texts.

“I was 13, the charges were dropped,” He stood over Stiles, who was sitting at his desk chair. Ramie was pretending to read on his bed while Derek flipped through a book, sitting in the chair in the corner, a permanent scowl on his face. Stiles made a noise and shrugged, clearly not caring about Danny’s charges and only caring about the text being traced. “We’re doing lab work.”

Stiles gave an annoyed look towards Ramie who shrugged, mouthing at him to keep trying. Stiles rolled his eyes, turning back to the computer.

“Who’s he again?” Danny asked, pointing towards Derek.

“My cousin,” Stiles glanced at Derek. “Miguel.”

Derek’s head slowly raised to glare at Stiles, and Ramie bit her lip to hold back a laugh.

“Is that blood on his shirt?” Danny whispered.

“He gets bad nose bleeds,” Stiles nodded. Ramie snorted and attempted to cover it with a cough. “I thought I told you you could borrow a shirt, Miguel.”

Derek got up, slamming the book closed and throwing it on the bed, it smacking Ramie’s leg, her giving him a glare. He ignored her, walking over to Stiles’ dresser. Stiles was trying to get Danny to give in on tracing the text while Derek pulled off his shirt, throwing in on the floor. Ramie shameless looked over his back muscles and she caught Danny doing the same. Stiles looked between the two of them, sighing.

“Stiles,” Derek said. “This, no fit.”

“Then try something else,” Stiles spat back. He looked back and forth between Danny, who was staring, and Derek. Derek pulled on a different shirt. “Hey, that one looks pretty good, huh? What do you think Danny?”

Danny nodded, mumbling that it looked fine. The shirt was incredibly tight on Derek, looking like it was made for a child. Ramie had to pull her book over her face to keep from laughing.

“It’s not really his color,” Danny said as Derek pulled the shirt off.

“You swing for a different team but you still play ball, don’t you Danny boy,” Stiles said, turning back towards the computer.

“You’re a horrible person,” Danny shook his head.

“I know it keeps me awake at night, anyway, about that text.”

“Stiles!” Derek nearly yelled. “None of these fit.”

Stiles slowly turned back to Danny, who looked between Derek and Stiles. He sighed, pulling the laptop away from Stiles.

“I’ll need the ISP, phone number and exact time of text,” Danny said, beginning to type. Stiles threw both of his arms in the air in celebration, turning to Ramie and sending her a wink. Fifteen minutes later Danny had uncovered that the text was actually sent from a computer, which wasn’t even the strangest part. The computer was registered under Ramie’s mom, Melissa, it had come from her computer at the hospital. When they found this out Ramie had immediately left Stiles’, going home to see if her Mom was there so she could ask her about the text. She unfortunately, wasn’t home.

Ramie waited awhile to see if she would show up, but it got to be too late and Ramie had to head to the school for the lacrosse game. She didn’t want to miss it, since Stiles was actually supposed to be playing. She found a seat in the stands by herself, Lydia had told her she wouldn’t be there, which was strange, but Ramie didn’t get the chance to ask why after the afternoon she had had with Derek and Stiles. She searched the bench for Stiles, since the game was about to start, but he was nowhere to be found. She made eye contact with Isaac, who waved and gave her a huge grin, and as she watched him take the field, she forgot about Stiles for a few minutes.

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #Isaac lahey #teen wolf fanfic #stiles stilinski fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf one shot #stiles stilinski one shot #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski x oc #scott mccall #teen wolf rewrite #derek hale #season 1

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plus-size-reader · 5 years ago

Text

The Only Thing That Matters

Stiles Stilinski x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1380 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader is Stiles’ girlfriend and Scott’s new beta. Stiles wants to experience her shift by her side but it isn’t safe. After all, how safe could having a she-wolf gf be?

——————————————————————————————————

Stiles wasn’t happy by any means about you becoming Scott’s beta but if anyone was going to be your alpha, he was glad it was his best friend.

With you being part of the McCall pack meant that your loving, protective boyfriend was never too far away.

That being said, there were a lot of internal struggles that came with being a wolf that Stiles couldn’t protect you from.

Your monthly shift being one of them.

There was literally nothing Stiles could do to help you. No amount of caring could or would stop all of the pain and stress you were forced to endure on those dark nights.

If he could, the boy you loved would take every ounce of pain from you for himself but it didn’t work that way...so he found something else that could help.

During the entirety of the full moon, Stiles spent it with you.

Each grueling moment, and every menacing snarl, none of it phased him. Perhaps it was because he had spent so much time with Scott or that he loved you so much, but whatever it was...he wasn’t bothered.

In fact, the only thing that upset him about it was that you had to go through it in the first place.

“Y/N, just breathe, I’m right here” he assured, his hand coming forward to land on your knee, which was bare due to the shorts you had on. You hadn’t started shifting yet but it was happening.

You could feel the force of the moon tugging on every cell in your body as if you’d lose it at any moment. There was no way to know when it would happen but you wanted to make sure Stiles was as far away as possible when it did.

You weren’t going to hurt him, if it was the last thing you ever did.

“How are you holding up?” he wondered, half expecting you to get pissed at him for asking such a stupid question. Luckily, you weren’t at the point in the night where you were too irritable yet.

You just weren’t sure how to answer him. There really wasn’t any good way to go about it. You weren’t holding up, not really. All you could do was wait for the moon to wreak havoc on you and hope the damage wasn’t too bad this time.

“I’ll be fine Stiles, but you need to leave” You groaned, pushing some of your hair from your face, noticing the profuse sweat that was covering your skin in a sheen.

It was starting and at a certain point, it wouldn’t matter how much you loved Stiles or how desperately you wanted to protect him...he would become just another target.

Everything that moved was in danger when you shifted and as a beta to the true alpha, there was no way to know just how extensive the damage would be.

You just had to wait it out, and you couldn’t do that with Stiles breathing down your neck.

“No, I can’t leave you all alone...I won’t” this was news to you. Even Allison had never seen Scott during the shift. It was just too much for anyone to process if they weren’t experiencing it themselves.

Even if Stiles did want to help you, it was too risky. Stiles didn’t seem to understand that you could crumble his sternum with ease. Accidents happen, and you weren’t about to deliver a crushing blow to the man you loved.

You just couldn’t take the chance that something would go wrong.

“I’m not asking Stiles, I need you to leave. You could die” you were forceful, and made it abundantly clear that no matter what, he wasn’t going to stay there.

Unfortunately for you, he wasn’t listening. Stiles had no concern for his own wellbeing and didn’t care if something happened to him. All he could think about in that moment was you.

You needed him to be there for you, and he would.

“Alright fine, I’ll go” he lied, laughing to himself as he humored you. You couldn’t help but groan as you watched him, with his hands up in defeat. He was being a prick, but cute none-the-less.

Stiles was determined, you would give him that.

He kept the bit up, even leaving the room and walking all the way down to the kitchen, before turning back around and coming back. He knew you could hear his footsteps.

After he made it up to the bedroom door once more, he just stood there outside the door for a few minutes, letting you listening to his heartbeat.

“Stiles! Get in here” You barked, slamming your back against the wall in succession with the opening of the door. You weren’t in your right mind anymore, consumed with the pulsing in your mind.

That was all it took. As soon as you asked him into the room, he was right by your side, holding tightly to your hand like an anchor. You could see the worry on his face, but even if you couldn’t, you would have been able to smell the anxiety coming off of him in waves.

He’d seen plenty of werewolf shifts but never like this. “What’s going on?” He hummed, wincing slightly as your grip on his hand tightened, nearly making every finger in his hand go numb.

“Everything hurts and I kind of want to chew off your face” You explained, trying your hardest to be honest without scaring him. If you got your way, you would have just tore your own skin off but that wasn’t going to help you any.

Stiles was understandably taken aback by your sentence but let it happen anyway. You were the love of his life and if this was what you had to do, it was the only way.

“Ok, that’s alright, we can deal with that” he rambled, focusing his attention on making you feel better. He wanted so badly to make it go away but the only option he had was to chill out with you until you came down.

That was when the growling started, breaking his heart instantly. Every little noise you made hurt him more than the last.

He had to remember to punish Scott later for all this.

“GET OUT OF HERE STILES” You screamed, slamming your fists into the floor beneath you before they returned to your temples in an attempt to dull the throbbing. You could feel your claws ripping through the layers of flesh in yours hands and your temperature must have been at least 120 degrees by now. You were losing control and it was going to get bad really fast if something didn’t give.

Stiles had been expecting that reaction but he didn’t want to leave you all alone. That being said, you sounded desperate to get him out of there and he didn’t want to upset you any further either, so the boy did as you asked and left the room.

He couldn’t bring himself to leave but he could sit behind the cover of the door so you would feel better.

As much as Stiles cared about you, he also wanted what was best for you and you couldn’t make it through the night if you were worried about him the whole time.

So there he sat, listening to your groaning and howls of pain all night long, until morning light broke and the rattling of chains against the floor stopped.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” he called out, still keeping the door closed in case you were still very much alert and on the prowl. After half the things he’d heard last night, there was no doubt you really were in a bad place.

You didn’t answer at first, just resting against the cool floor, which felt amazing on your skin which had been burning most of the night.

Until finally you sighed, “I’m all good Stiles, come on in” you allowed, setting up yourself, to rest against the wall. There were scratches all alone the wall and wood floor that matched your claws and blood scattered about, but nothing near as bad as it could have been.

Stiles was still alive, and honestly...that was all that mattered to you.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski x plus size reader #stiles stilinski x ps reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x plus size reader #teen wolf x ps reader #tw #tw x plus size reader #tw x ps reader

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lydisms · 5 years ago

Text

only human | self para

word count: 2000 (it’s really long sorry)

summary: after being sent back to eichen house, the orderlies pick up where they left off with Lydia. only this time the experiments get rid of her powers completely instead of amplifying them and they work on different types of torture.

trigger warnings: torture, violence, mention of needles

When Lydia opened her eyes she recognized the familiar white walls immediately. She was sitting in the middle of a room at Eichen, her hands shackled to the arms of the chair. On the side of one wall by the door read “Supernatural Unit.” There were a group of orderlies in front of her smirking. Lydia didn’t remember much after being driven back to Eichen so she imagined they knocked her out at some point. “Welcome back, Lydia. You have no idea how long we’ve been waiting for this moment.” Actually, Lydia figured. She had fought quite a bit of them in that building and Lydia always knew they wanted revenge. She feared they were going to kill her immediately after hearing Charles and her dad were sending her there. “Thank God for your father and his friend. When we offered them money to have you committed here, they jumped at the opportunity. Do you want to know how much your life is worth? $200. How does it feel to have a father who hates you that much?” Lydia didn’t want to listen. She was doing her very best to focus on anything else and to drown out their voices. The banshee needed a plan to get out- that was her main concern. Not the fact that her father was willing to be paid off to get rid of her. “Of course none of us had any idea how fast it would happen. You made it easy for us, Lydia. You and that monster in this town.” There were five orderlies. Lydia had begun counting so she could distract herself from what they were saying. Five; she could easily knock them out. Then she’d just make a run for the exit. It couldn’t be that hard, right? “Now you’re back where you belong. No visitors this time and escaping isn’t possible. We have plans for you. It’s a shame your friend isn’t here, though. Maybe we should bring her in for old times sake too. Talia, right?” The mention of Talia was enough to get her attention, though. Lydia couldn’t help herself and she immediately spit in one of their faces when they got close enough. “You bring her here and I’ll kill you.” Lydia warned, but before she could say anything else one of the orderlies was slapping her in the face. That was it for Lydia. She wasn’t going to wait any longer and she immediately screamed in their direction. All five of them fell to the floor unconscious shortly after and the shackles on Lydia’s wrists were broken. She got out of the chair and made a run towards the door. Unfortunately for Lydia she was greeted by six more orderlies and a taser right outside the door. Lydia fell to the ground and before she could even try to scream again or fight back, one of them hit her in the back of the head and she remained unconscious.

Lydia groaned as she woke up once more. This time she wasn’t in a chair but she was laying down in a bed with the same familiar shackles on her hands and feet this time as well. Lydia pulled to try and break free on instinct but it was no use. Every part of her body was aching with pain and her vision was blurry. She blinked a few times to try and see clearly when she noticed blood on her pillow. Immediately Lydia brought her hand up to her head to see if that’s where the bleeding was coming from. There was a bump but thankfully not another hole drilled into her head. But that’s when Lydia noticed some marks on her arm as though a needle had been pricked into her skin. And she saw an orderly coming with another needle. Lydia immediately tried to scream to fight them off again, but the scream came out completely normal- there was no wailing, no sound vibrations, nothing. Lydia tried again and it was the same thing. In fact, her throat was starting to burn and feel like it was on fire. “W-what did you do?” Lydia mumbled, shaking her head at the orderly who was laughing. “Your powers are gone now. Good luck trying to fight your way out of here.” Lydia shook her head furiously again. “No.. you didn’t.. that’s not possible..” She was starting to become tired all of a sudden. Maybe she was hallucinating. There was no way they were able to take her powers away, right? Fear ran over her entire body as she tried to figure out what they did to her when she was knocked out and what kind of twisted experiments they must have tried on her. She was fighting to keep her eyes open but the room was spinning and suddenly Lydia was asleep again.

“Wake up.” Lydia heard someone yelling at her and she immediately flinched, only to be reminded that she was chained to a bed. Her wrists were starting to hurt and she wondered what they had been doing to her. Her body was in too much pain to have just been sleeping all this time. Lydia felt honestly sick to her stomach- even more so when she remembered that they somehow took her powers away. What was the point all of this? What did they want from Lydia? She was starting to wonder if their truly was no end goal here except to completely torture her. Maybe kill her, which was a lot easier now that she couldn’t defend herself with her abilities. “We’re going to take some trips down memory lane. Remind you of all the reasons you’re here. We’re doing Beacon Hills a favor by keeping you here. All you do is kill people.” He said in the cruelest tone of voice. Suddenly he was pressing play on an old recorder and Lydia heard the recording of her Grandma being murdered- the one she heard at Eichen a few years ago. Only this time, Lydia didn’t have Stiles with her to distract her from the tape. She couldn’t focus on the sound of his voice. God, she missed him so much.

The tape replayed for about an hour before Lydia began to beg them to stop. Though she might not have if she knew what was coming next. A needle was injected into her arm and the pain was unbearable. Lydia screamed until she couldn’t scream anymore, wondering what the hell they had injected into her. The second she stopped screaming, her eyelids were once again becoming heavy. Only when they closed she wasn’t asleep. No, she was seeing visions of the night her mother died. When that memory was over, it switched to Allison dying. Then Aiden, Nate, Ariel.. everyone Lydia loved who she ever had to watch die. The memories were being dragged out of her mind and playing on repeat. Lydia felt like she was in her own personal hell. Once in awhile the memories of death would stop and instead were replaced with some of her most traumatic moments. Finding out her sister had died, being killed by hunters, Jackson and the abuse he put her through, having a hole drilled into her skull, tormented by Peter, Charles, Death, the list went on.

Everyday would be a mix of weird experiments on her followed by those worst memories being played on loop in her mind. To the point where Lydia couldn’t see anything else anymore. She was becoming so delirious that the memories were starting to become a bit twisted. There were moments where her mother was screaming at her that this was all her fault, or the same for Nate. Things that Lydia knew didn’t actually happen but she was so out of her mind that she couldn’t figure out what was real anymore. There was a sound of a drill repeatedly playing and Lydia didn’t even know if the orderlies were doing that to mess with her or it was her own mind.

She didn’t even know how long she had been in Eichen. It felt like an eternity when in reality it had only been five days. If breaking Lydia was the endgame here, they were pretty damn close. The only thing keeping Lydia going was the fact that she needed to get out of here to get back to Stiles. It was all she wanted, and it gave Lydia the strength to not completely give up. That’s why when one of the orderlies came in to change one of her bandages and they had to take her shackles off to do so, Lydia fought back immediately. They might’ve thought she was too weak to do so but it didn’t stop Lydia. She kicked him in the groin so that he fell to the ground and then Lydia grabbed the closest thing she could find- a walkie talkie- and hit him in the head with it so he was knocked out. She slowly peered out the hallway and the coast was clear so Lydia took off running; only to be met with ten orderlies at the end of the hallway.

Lydia could see a couple possible outcomes. Either she went willingly back into her room at Eichen and continued this torture for who knew how long. Or she could fight back- which she knew would either end with her reuniting with Stiles and her friends, or her dying. It was a risk she was willing to take. There was no way in hell Lydia was going down that easily. She took a deep breath and charged at them. Maybe they took her powers away but she could still fight, and she would do so until she physically couldn’t anymore. Only problem was they had actual weapons. Guns, tasers, knives, you name it. Lydia was doing her best to fight back and she knocked a couple of them out but eventually they managed to get her on the ground again. One held a gun up to her head and another shook his head. “No.” He said before kicking Lydia in the stomach. “Let’s have some fun with her first.” And then the punching, the kicks, even a few knife cuts and everything else came. Lydia didn’t know how long it lasted but she could barely move afterwards. She knew eventually she was going to die on this floor if she didn’t do something soon and that was not an option. Lydia knew she was not a weak person. They could take her powers but those abilities did not define her. With whatever strength Lydia had buried deep inside of her, she was able to reach forward and grab a gun that was tied to someone’s boot. She couldn’t see through her swollen eye and the blood that was on her face but she was able to shoot him in the leg. After that, it might’ve been a mix of adrenaline and the overwhelming desire to make it out of this alive, but Lydia stood up. Her leg might’ve been broken at this point so it was a miracle but she ultimately lifted herself off the ground. Lydia wasn’t going to die here. She wanted to get home to Stiles, to see her friends again. She had to. It was enough to give her the energy to fight these guys. Ten guys and Lydia took them all out with no powers. And after that she headed for the exit and didn’t look back.

The strawberry blonde practically crawled out of the Eichen doors. Once she was free and the adrenaline wore off, Lydia was hit with the pain again. She could hardly breathe and she knew multiple bones were broken. She just needed to get home.. but- she couldn't make it. Lydia tried and tried with every ounce of her being but she only made it about .1 miles from Eichen before she collapsed on the side of the road, leaving a trail of blood behind her.

#self para #always terrible at titles #anyway message me to plot if you want and we haven't already!#torture tw #violence tw #needles tw

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extrasteps · 5 years ago

Photo

Stacked Chapter 7

See previous photoset here.

Theo woke up with dread burning in his stomach. He just knew that taking that one amazing, perfect day with Liam was going to blow up in his face in a big way. He wasn’t allowed to be this happy - the universe wouldn’t allow it.

He got ready for the day with extreme reluctance, and Liam picked up on his mood immediately, wrapping his arms around him and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed.

It wouldn’t, but he appreciated that Liam was trying.

They were meant to meet Scott and the others at Scott’s place in an hour, and Theo told him he’d meet him there. He wanted to slip into his house and steal some more clothes. Liam meant well, letting Theo borrow some of his, but Theo was wider in the shoulders than Liam, and his shirts were uncomfortably tight. He gathered that that was the point though, with the way Liam’s eyes often drifted to his shoulders, gaze turning dark with lust.

Theo somehow managed to leave Liam behind as he drove to his house, pausing in front of his door and taking a deep breath before opening it.

It was like he’d known this was going to happen.

He stepped through the front door, head tilted to the side, listening.

There was no one home, no heartbeats. His fake parents had probably bailed after he hadn’t come home again, figuring it was safe to do so. It was. He had no intention of hunting them down. His cover was well and truly blown now.

Just as he’d managed to fill a bag full of clothes, he felt it. The hum of electricity. They were coming. There was no point in running. There was nowhere he could go that they wouldn’t find him.

Closing his bedroom door behind him, he made his way into the lounge room where they were waiting.

“What do you want?” He demanded.

On the coffee table there were three dossiers and he moved forward, swaggering with a confidence he didn’t feel as he scooped them up, flipping through them.

Three teenagers. Three new chimeras. Three new graves.

“Find them,” they intoned. “Train them.”

And then with a crackle they were gone.

“Just a brief visit then,” he muttered, plucking out the three photos and examining them with a sigh. He wasn’t sure if this was a good sign or not. Was he under suspicion? Were they testing him?

He picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. Looked like he had a few stops to make before he made it to Scott’s house.

***

Liam paced in Scott’s kitchen, wearing a track into the floor.

“Liam,” Mason said, sounding concerned.

“He’s coming,” Liam snapped, eyes fixed on the clock. Theo was almost half an hour late now. Stiles was already making snarky comments about how Theo had skipped town and the urge to throttle him was growing stronger by the second.

But it wasn’t because he was angry. It was because he was afraid.

What if it was true?

What if Theo really had left him?

He’d like to think that after the day they’d spent together yesterday that Theo could never do that, but how well did he know him really? Was their bond stronger than Theo’s fear? Liam wasn’t sure.

By the time an hour had passed, he was sitting on the couch between Mason and Scott, ignoring the conversation going on around him, staring down at his hands.

Before Theo had left earlier he’d used those same hands to cup his cheeks and kiss him, telling him he’d see him again soon. Surely that hadn’t been their last kiss. Surely fate wasn’t that cruel.

“Theo doing a bunk doesn’t change the facts,” Stiles was arguing, “these doctor guys are a serious threat. We have to do something.”

He’d come today despite his suspicion of Theo, which Liam appreciated, but he was also getting on his nerves, and he didn’t have many nerves to begin with. His IED was simmering in his chest, getting close to boiling point.

He looked at Mason. “I think I need to go,” he said quietly. “Mase-”

“Punching bag, got it,” Mason said, jumping to his feet. “Go out back. Me and Corey will bring it out.”

Ever since his diagnosis, Mason had been more than supportive. He had his boot filled with a large punching bag and gloves, kept it in there every single day despite the inconvenience, just so Liam would have something to hit that wasn’t a wall, or someone else’s face.

Liam stalked outside, ignoring the others calling after him. If he went back, he would do or say something he would regret.

Corey set up the bag on the nearest tree, and they left him to it, grunting as he took out his aggression on the bag, blood rushing in his ears, seeing red.

He punched the bag again and again and again, taking out all of his fear and frustration on it until his arms and shoulders were aching and he was panting for breath, his anger spent.

When he turned toward the house, exhausted and covered with sweat, his eyes fell upon Theo, sitting on the back step.

Theo looked concerned as he slowly rose to his feet.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

Liam shivered. “You didn’t leave,” he said, voice flat. He didn’t have any emotion left in his body. He was wrung out.

“I had to make a few pit stops,” Theo said with a sigh, walking towards him. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you.”

Liam considered him. There was nothing about the way Theo was looking at him that suggested he was lying, and Liam didn’t know what to think.

“I’m used to being on my own,” Theo continued when it was clear that Liam wasn’t going to say anything. “Mason chewed me out when I got here, told me off for worrying you. And he was right. It was a shitty thing to do. I’m sorry, Liam.”

Slowly, Liam nodded. “Okay,” he said.

He walked past Theo into the house, stripping off his gloves. His knuckles were red and sore. He hadn’t had time to strap them before the need to hit something had overwhelmed him. But they would heal.

Liam came to a stop at the kitchen door, looking at the three strangers with suspicion.

“Theo’s extra pit stops, I assume,” he said to Scott, continuing inside.

“Yeah,” Scott sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. “The Dread Doctors are making more chimeras.”

Theo came to stand next to Liam, hesitantly placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Liam, meet my new chimera pack. Corey, Josh and Tracy.”

He looked between the three of them, a twinge of fear breaking through the numbness. The Dread Doctors were making more chimeras. What did that mean for Theo?

***

Theo felt like a complete asshole. Liam had had an attack, and it was all his fault. How had he not even considered sending him a text? In his own defence, he hadn’t realised that it would take so long to convince the three new chimeras to come with him, and they’d all demanded explanations from him about what was happening to them, but now he had them more or less on board, accepting him, somewhat reluctantly, as their leader.

It wasn’t that he was any more thrilled than them by this state of affairs. Not even two weeks ago he would have been ecstatic to have his own pack, but now it meant nothing to him. The only thing that mattered was Liam, and hopefully somehow being able to gain his freedom.

Liam walked away to go and clean up a bit in Scott’s bathroom, leaving Theo standing in the lounge room with Scott’s pack and his three new pack members all staring at him.

“What now?” Theo asked, looking at Scott.

“I think we need help,” Scott said. “We need more information about the Dread Doctors.”

Theo sighed. “You need the author.”

“McCammon?” Scott asked, looking at him intently.

“That’s not his real name,” he said. “It’s Valack.”

“He’s the one who it’s dedicated to,” Stiles pointed out, holding out a copy of the book, showing the relevant page.

Theo nodded. “He wrote it under a pseudonym. The book makes you remember them. The Dread Doctors. That’s why he wrote it.”

“If you know so much,” Stiles said, a sneer on his face as he stalked closer, “then why don’t you tell us everything there is to know about them.”

“He already has,” Scott said, voice terse. “He told me everything he knew.”

Stiles scoffed. “Sure he did.”

“I trust him,” Scott said, finality in his tone. “Liam trusts him.”

Stiles glowered but didn’t respond. Theo couldn’t even blame him. He’d come here with the intention of infiltrating their pack and destroying it, making it anew with him as the alpha. That wasn’t his goal anymore, but Stiles had been right not to trust him, then at least.

Now, it’d be nice if he would give Theo the benefit of the doubt.

“Okay,” Scott said, turning and looking around. “We have questions, let’s figure out exactly what we need to know before we decide who is going where.”

“Alright,” Stiles said, speaking up again now, glaring at Theo. “First question, what do the Dread Doctors want?”

“They want to resurrect the Beast,” Theo told him. “For that, they need a genetic chimera.”

“Why didn’t they just use you?” Stiles asked, moving closer. “This all seems pretty convenient.”

“It didn’t work with me,” he said with a sigh. “Believe me, they tried.” For years, they’d experimented on him in every possible way while he was strapped to their gurney. He’d been pathetically grateful when the pain had finally stopped and they’d started using him in other ways instead. It had made sense to him. Hurt others so that they didn’t hurt him.

He knew better now.

“So they made more,” Scott hummed. “Why these three? What’s special about them?”

“It’s like Finch said the other day in class,” Theo explained. “Chimeras have more than one kind of DNA. Maybe it’s a transplant, a blood transfusion, whatever. I stole medical records for them a few months ago. They want young people, children and teenagers. They survive longer in their experiments, generally.”

“How old were you?” Liam asked quietly. He was standing at the door, rubbing a thumb over his red knuckles.

“When?” Theo turned towards him.

“The first time they experimented on you.”

His hand flew to his chest automatically, rubbing over the non-existent scar. “Eight,” he admitted.

“Next question,” Stiles interrupted, drawing Theo’s gaze. “What exactly is this beast?”

Theo shrugged. “Ask an Argent,” he said. “It’s something from their lore.”

Scott’s gaze dropped, his jaw clenching. Theo studied him, feeling a twinge of guilt. Of course Scott couldn’t ask Allison, she was gone.

But there was still her father. Although Theo wanted to stay far away from him. He had a feeling that the hunter was far more dangerous than any of Scott’s pack realised.

“Stiles and I will go to Eichen,” Lydia said, walking up to grasp Scott’s shoulder, squeezing it. “You should speak to Argent.”

“And Theo?” Stiles asked.

“He has his hands a bit full right now, don’t you think?” She asked gently, head tilting towards the new chimeras. Theo grimaced, following her gaze to where Corey, Tracy and Josh were all sitting on the couch, Mason hovering near them, looking uncertain.

Yeah, he had enough to deal with.

“I’ll stay with Theo and Mason and the others,” Liam said to Scott. “You guys go.”

Kira walked up and took Scott’s hand, leading him away, and Theo watched them go, feeling frustrated. Divide and conquer was a classic tactic. These idiots would have fallen right into his trap without so much as a blink. Why were they all so naive?

“Hey,” Liam said, nudging his shoulder. “Earth to Theo.”

He shook his head, pushing his frustration aside. They were paired up at least, and with Kira going with Scott to see Argent instead of to Eichen, the Dread Doctors wouldn’t be able to get to Valack.

“Don’t give him what he wants,” he said quietly to Lydia as she started to move past them.

She startled, looking at him. “What?”

“Valack. He’s dangerous. He’ll try to bargain with you, he’ll want something for his information. Don't give it to him.”

The intelligence shone in her eyes as she searched his face. “Why?”

“It’s in your best interest,” he said simply. “Valack’s known your family for a really long time. He used to work at Eichen.”

Her gaze sharpened further. “My grandmother,” she said, lips pressed tightly together.

Theo nodded. “Your grandmother. He’s a sick son of a bitch, and that’s coming from me. Don’t trust him. Don’t let your guard down.”

“Don’t worry,” Stiles said, his voice cold. “We won’t”

The implied message was clear. And we won’t trust you either.

But Lydia nodded, letting Stiles guide her out of the kitchen.

Liam stirred beside him. “The things you’ve done,” he asked, voice low. “How bad are we talking here?” He sounded nervous.

Theo looked at him, guilt making his borrowed heart twist in his chest. “It was them or me,” he said, voice level. “I chose me.”

“And now?” Liam asked.

“Freedom or death. It’s the same thing really,” Theo muttered, pushing past him and taking one of the free seats. Either he’d be free or he’d be dead. And he had to do everything in his power to ensure that he stayed alive.

The only thing he wouldn’t sacrifice was Liam.

He hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

***

Liam’s heart was troubled as he watched Theo.

Theo had opened up to him so much over the past week, but he was starting to realise that Theo didn’t really think he’d survive the Dread Doctors. There was a resignation to his gaze as he looked between the three chimeras and Mason. He didn’t have many answers for them, looking as lost as they were.

He wanted to help, he did, but he didn’t have much of an idea of what to do either. Most of the supernatural world still baffled him. Before Theo had come on the scene, he hadn’t even known that werewolves could be created on an operating table.

Let alone whatever these three were. According to the files Theo had shown him, Corey was a chameleon who could turn invisible, Josh was a raiju who could absorb and manipulate lightning, and Tracy was a kanima, a creepy lizard that could paralyse. All very powerful, and very scared.

“What’s going to happen to us?” Corey asked, looking at Theo after browsing through his own file. “They said to train us? For what?”

“Test your powers, see how strong you are,” Theo explained wearily. “They want to see if you’ll survive being the host.”

Josh scoffed, leaning back against the couch. “So what? We just wait around for them to find us? Fuck that.”

“No,” Liam agreed, stepping forward to stand in front of them. “Sticking your head in the sand won’t achieve anything. You need to fight.”

Corey visibly blanched. “I don’t know how to fight. I mean, look at me.”

“You’re stronger than you realise,” Liam assured him. “And I don’t mean that you need to run in all guns blazing. I just mean that you can’t give up. If we work together, we can defeat them.”

Tracy finally spoke up, looking at Liam with wide eyes. “How?”

And wasn’t that the million dollar question.

“We’ll figure it out. Together. Scott is a true alpha and our pack has faced down alpha packs, berserkers, hunters. We can beat a couple of scientists.”

The three of them look reassured, but Theo looked at him. His eyes said clearly that he wanted to believe Liam, but that he knew better.

“We’ve got this,” Mason said, speaking mostly to Corey, if Liam wasn’t mistaken. “Liam’s right. I know you’re all scared, but we’ll stick together and we’ll get through this.”

Corey smiled at Mason, and Liam looked away, biting back a smirk. He met Theo’s gaze, who waggled his eyebrows at him.

Liam felt relieved. The pack that they were building now was strong. They could do this.

They had to.

#thiam #liam dunbar #theo raeken #stacked

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teenwolfechoes · 5 years ago

Text

Teen Wolf Dice Rolls - Part One

Stiles Stilinski & Derek Hale

4. . “I had to learn how to fight for myself, something you should learn.”

19. “Good job! You want a scratch behind the ear or a bone as a reward?”

The pack scavenged the hallways. Each member separated and prowling quietly.

A kanima is currently on the loose. One of the Dread Doctors new deadly experiments. They could all hear the cheers and applause in the background. A lacrosse game currently in action just outside the building in the field.

This left half of the pack to try and trap her. While the other half tried to assure she did not leave the building while playing the aggressive sport.

Lydia slowly edged her way into what seems to be a mathematics classroom. Her breath caught in her throat, ready to let loose a scream at any moment.

She peeks around the desk and up under the teachers station, silently sending up prayers for her fellow pack members.

Derek hunches down while turning the corner quickly, his red eyes shining brightly in the dark hallway. He leaves his claws and canines out, ready to attack at the drop of a pencil.

He draws in a deep breath, hoping to smell the creature, yet comes up with nothing. At this the alpha lets out a low growl, continuing his search.

Stiles slowly makes his way into the chemistry room, clutching his faithful bat tightly in his hands.

The young boy makes it halfway into the room when he hears a low growl. This makes his head sharply turn around and move his arms into a swinging position.

“Derek please tell me that was you.” Stiles says in an almost muted tone.

At this moment something drips onto his head. His hand slowly lifts to feel the slime like liquid as his breathing practically halts.

There is a sound of something dropping behind him. Slowly, his feet cause him to turn to see the monster.

Stiles puts one hand up as a sign of halfway surrender. While the other clutches the bat, still ready to attempt to defend himself.

“Hey, Krysta, I know this is hard for you. I know you are struggling but I need you to listen okay? Can you do that for me?” he more or less begged the girl.

In response the shapeshifter hisses at him, while drawing up its tail.

“I am fucked aren’t I?” he mutters to himself, “look, I don’t want to do this but I will hit you with this bat. I am the only one here that will try to help you. Derek will rip you to shreds unless you hear me out and let me help you.”

At this the creature leaps at the boy, causing him to swing his bat knocking her to the side.

“Shit, Derek!” He shrieks for help while attempting to fight the girl off.

As Derek is about to enter the locker room he hears Stiles’ call for help. This causes the alpha to immediately turn taking off to help the human.

As Stiles turns to take another swing at the creature it’s tail quickly comes up at slightly cuts the back of his neck. The short yet precise movement immediately paralyzes him, causing the bat to be dropped and the boy himself to fall to the ground.

“Derek, Scott, hell Issac anyone please help me. For the love of God please.” the young male begged.

The creature slowly crawls up his body, slowly dragging her teeth on his throat. “Please, Krysta I know you’re in there. Don’t do this. I can’t die not yet. I know I'm annoying and i probably talk too much. Did my leg tapping annoy you in class? I’ll stop I swear. My dad, the pack, Scott I have to live for them. They need me. Please.” the boy implored with tears slipping from his eyes.

Just as the shifter goes to kill the begging boy there's a loud, territorial, growl that shakes the room with its force.

“Derek? I can’t move but please tell me thats you.” Stiles asks hopefully.

“Get away from him you fucking abomination” The alpha declares in a tone that would shake the plans of the devil himself.

Though the tone was deadly it makes the male on the ground release the breath he was holding.

“Well, you were warned, I tried.” The paralyzed boy on the floor states causing Derek to tense.

“You tried to talk to this thing Stiles?” Derek states gruffly in disbelief.

The creature, feeling ignored yet cornered, hisses at the large male.

At this the two make eye contact, red to gold. After a short moment the two lunged for each other.

During this fight Stiles in left on the floor not being able to assist in any way. All he can hear in the room is growls, hisses, and loud slams. He desperately tries to regain feeling in his body. Attempting to regain his toes and fingers first.

“Come on, please work with me body” he cries out to himself, still hearing the fight all around him. Derek needs him.

Slowly he regains himself standing at his full height. Attempting to look as gruff and demanding as he can possibly be.

“Hey fuckface!” he shouts with such force it stuns Derek for a second.

The creature uses this moment to slam the Alpha into the wall. The wall itself cracking under the force.

“You leave him alone you hear me? I tried to be nice but I am done” he states while picking the bat back up.

At this the creature pounces to attack the bat wielding boy.

Just before a claw reaches his face he swung with all his might, managing to knock the creature out cold.

Stiles looks at the snake like creature then to his bat. All the while, Derek is purely stunned by the part of Stiles he just witnessed. Until he registers what the boy has just said.

The alpha stands to his full height before walking over to the other male.

“You tried to talk to a Kanima?” the Alpha glares down at him.

“What was I supposed to do Derek? Tell me that. That abomination as you so kindly put it is my friend. I see her everyday. Now, i’ll give it you we do not talk every day. Derek she is my age. She did not ask for this. She doesn’t want to be a killer. Those Dread Doctors did this to her. So yes, I attempted to talk her out of killing me. That girl is young and probably scared. She damn sure deserves more than to be ripped to shreds for something she can not control.” Stiles breathes out.

“You think I don’t know that Stiles? You think I don’t know that this has to suck? I have been there. I use to be you. I use to see the good in everyone. You wanna know what happened because of that? People died Stiles. Innocent people who had no idea what was going on. You wanna know what I did? What I had to do? I had to learn how to fight for myself, something you should learn Stiles. I had to learn to rip those people I cared for to shreds, as you so kindly put it, to save the innocent people in this city. I know how this feels because I have been there myself. If I could take it back, have you not have to go through this i would. I can’t though, so suck it up or die trying to be the good guy to everyone.” The alpha runs his hands through his hair roughly while grabbing Stiles’ shoulders.

The two continue intense eye contact before the young boy draws in a rough breath.

“Good job! You want a scratch behind the ear or a bone as a reward? Thank you for saving me Derek, for that I will be forever thankful. I will never be able to do that. I’m no werewolf, I am human Derek. Sarcasm is my only true line of defense. I may never be the hero, but I will always fight to save the lives of the damned.” Stiles replies while remaining tense eye contact.

Derek draws his head back at his statement. Seeming to see the young gentleman in an entire new light. This human boy is stronger than anyone he knows.

The werewolf draws closer to the human boy while placing his hand on his cheek.

This action causes Stiles’ heart to race and his breath to catch in his throat. Stiles moves his head to bare his throat to the man in front of him, shamelessly submitting.

“I have never met anyone quite like you Stiles” Derek lowly states.

“Oh! Stiles, Derek! I couldn't find you two, I got so worried!” Lydia states, suddenly entering the room.

The intrusion causes the two males to separate, while their eye contact remains.

“Hey guys, I do hope I'm not interrupting anything. Did either of you ever find the kanima?” the redhead asks smugly.

This question causes both men to look around wildly. It had gotten away while the two were caught up in each other.

“No, you weren't interrupting Lyds.” the spastic one of the two males coughs out while shaking his head, “the Kanima attacked me but it got away.”

The young girl narrows her eyes at the two before shrugging her shoulders. “Well alright, the game is over. We should report to Scott about what happened. We have to catch Krysta before she kills again” the peppy yet serious girl states.

“You’re right, let's go see if they saw it get away.” Derek finally speaks.

At this Lydia spins around, leaving the two to follow her.

The two stare at each other again before turning to follow the girl.

- Thank you for reading. This is a little thing I will do any Thursday I have no request. I simply roll two characters and two prompts from a list I will put a link to below. Hope you enjoyed.-

https://teenwolfechos.tumblr.com/post/185990349991/teen-wolf-imagine

#teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinksi imagine #derek hale imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf dice rolls

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lacrossepapi · 6 years ago

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Trials and Tribulations

This was supposed to be @mysenia prompt but it somehow turned into accidental child acquisition and mys’ maze prompt so here we are lol. I hope you still enjoy it and maybe someone else will go about the maze in the way you intended! Ao3:Link Chapters: 1/1 Words: 5113

“Don’t touch him.” Stiles’ voice cut through the various sounds of demons and wolves clashing.

This demon lord had been in town for three days and Stiles was sick of the fear, of the blood, of the lonely nights filled with nightmares. The bastard had kidnapped Isaac, declaring that the wolf would be his mate and rule his kingdom in hell by his side. Personally, Stiles didn’t think that sounded too bad. They were all going to hell anyways, so why not get an early ride in exchange for being a king? He could fuck a not that bad looking demon lord for eternity in exchange for not being tortured. Nobody else saw it that way though.

The demon hummed, a thrilled, intrigued sound as his red eyes turned to Stiles.

“This one has power. You smell divine little mage.” The demon lord unceremoniously dropped Isaac from his clawed hands and gave Stiles his full attention.

All Stiles had to do was distract him long enough for Scott to get Isaac and Derek to round up the rest of the puppies, he could definitely do that.

“So you’ve finally figured it out? Yes, I am a mage. What does a mage have that a demon lord would want?” Stiles did not flinch when a clawed hand reached out to him, to caress or maim.

When his dark tipped fingers brushed an invisible wall the demon lord’s eyes widened with surprise and a bit of awe, a smile stretching across his inhuman face.

“Interesting. You’re stronger than you appear if your shield does not wither under my touch. You would be an excellent king, my love.” Several angry growls rose from behind Stiles making the man grin, a wicked thing full of teeth and malice.

“Best to watch yourself, my pack does not take those threats lightly.” The demon grinned back, the thrill of a chase seen clearly on his features before Stiles spoke again, “Now I am done with your flattery and your slaughter.”

He rose slightly off the ground, black veins bulging from under pale skin and silver eyes bright in the night, “Leave now, Abraxas, before I turn your demon horde to ash and your bones to dust.”

Stiles’ voice echoed through the clearing leaving no question as to if he could indeed burn a demon horde to the ground and take their lord with them.

The demon lord Abraxas watching Stiles for a moment longer before nodding, “I will remember you Stiles Stilinski and when you are killed I will claim your soul for eternity.”

“Well then if I die I’ll see you then. Now get out of my town.”

Where once there was fifty demons slobbering and drenched in blood there now only stood their lord, who gave one final wink before disappearing himself.

Stiles turned back to his pack, acutely aware that Kira had been gravely injured in the fight and did not heal as fast as the wolves. As he reached for her, hands glowing with healing light he took note of the rest of the pack. Erica and Boyd were huddled around Isaac, all three bleeding but fine. Scott and Derek were debating how to clean up the mess, while Allison and Lydia were watching Stiles with a look in their eyes he wasn’t ready to address. Cora and Malia were arguing about who took down the most demons, like the bad asses they were. Peter was leaning against a nearby tree trying to hide the fact that his arm was hanging half off his body, never one to admit to an injury. Stiles found himself chuckling despite the screaming girl beneath him, his pack would never change and he would always be here to take care of them.

Magical healing was never pretty nor relaxing, often being excruciatingly painful and all around a horrible experience. Stiles tried to only make them suffer through enough to keep them alive while their own healing kicked in, but with the less sturdy pack members he had to finish the job despite their screams and thrashing bodies. He hated it.

Stiles let Peter hide his injury until he could get the older wolf alone, knowing he’d never let the Scott or Derek see him so weak.

“Alright Zombiewolf let me see your arm.” Stiles demanded as he walked beside the older man at the end of the pack.

“I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about, dear Stiles.”

“Oh really?” he knew it was a shitty thing to do, but if Peter was going to be difficult then so would Stiles.

He lifted his hand and grinned at Peter, “Give me a high five.”

“No thank you.”

“Alright, how about a low five?”

“How juvenile. I expected more from you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes before stepping in front of Peter, making the older man come to a stop, “Peter, let me help.”

The werewolf sighed before offering his injured arm to Stiles.

“I put a silence charm around us so feel free to scream, cause this is going to hurt.”

Weeks passed with no missing citizens, no dead bodies, and thankfully no new monsters. The city of Beacon Hills was finally peaceful, and Stiles was bored. No fighting meant that Stiles was forced to face how broken and unhappy he truly was.

The end of the school year meant the pack was graduating and Stiles would have to say goodbye to the only people who’d ever really known him. He’d begun dreading the date as it slowly crept up on him.

A tan bear with a pink nose was spotted multiple times in one week, but since there was no dead bodies or missing persons it took awhile for Stiles to hear about the sightings. He quickly started interviewing the witnesses trying to understand why such an animal would be in Beacon Hills. He’d finally gathered enough information to definitely say a Canadian spirit bear was in Beacon Hills and most likely was a shifter, and brought his conclusions to the pack.

“What do you mean it’s a shifter?”

“How could you possibly know its a spirit bear?”

“What if it’s just a sick brown bear?”

“How do you know it’s a shifter?”

“Did you actually see it?”

Stiles’ frustration was rapidly increasing by the second until he finally snapped, “I know it’s a spirit bear because I used the process of elimination. I know it’s a shifter because when anyone tries to get a picture of it the eyes shine so bright it ruins the picture. And also the whole, spirit bears only live in the Canadian rainforest.”

Someone, most likely Peter, chuckled at his irritation.

“Okay. I believe you. Derek and I will go meet the shifter and see why they’re here.” Scott said with a grin, as if that would soothe the hurt of having to over explain himself just for the pack’s trust.

“I want to go. I love spirit bears and I’m pretty sure this one is a child.”

“It’s not safe for you to meet an unknown shifter. If it’s a child the parents could be coming at any moment.” Derek’s words made Stiles spin around to face the other alpha.

“Neither one of you knows jack shit about children and none of you know how to approach a bear without angering or spooking it.” Stiles demanded.

“I have a younger sister, Stiles.”

“How do you know how to approach a bear?”

Stiles sighed, dejected and aware he’d lost the fight regardless of what he said.

“Whatever. Just go and help the poor thing.”

The alphas nodded and took their leave, the loft suddenly becoming uncomfortably quiet.

“I remember taking hunter’s safety with you. The lesson on dangerous wildlife was always the best part wasn’t it?” Erica’s voice reminded Stiles he couldn’t dissolve into an angst puddle because the rest of the pack was still around him.

“And I remember you getting off the bus at the daycare every afternoon despite the fact that you were too old to be there.” Boyd offered, placing a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

Stiles smiled at them, “Thanks guys. It’ll be fine.”

A quiet moment of tension before he shrugged, “Probably.”

The two alphas weren’t able to speak to the bear or get it to shift back, which won Stiles twenty bucks from Isaac. They decided to try again the next day, but Stiles couldn’t let the little thing spend another night alone in an unknown forest. After his father left for work Stiles stepped outside and started up the grill. He grilled salmon so the smell of fish would permeate the air around his house and played a recording of a black bear he’d found on the National Geographic website.

Stiles’ thought that he could lure the cub to his back yard was proven right when he heard the distinct sound of heavy paws approaching, his wards telling him a shifter was entering his yard. A pink nose pushed its way through the bushes, followed by a large blonde head with yellow eyes. The rest of the bear cub was larger than Stiles had been expecting, but still small enough he knew the poor thing was still growing.

Stiles averted his eyes and spoke clearly, “Hello. My name is Stiles, this is my house and you are safe here.”

He tossed a salmon to the bear, watching the cub quickly devour it. Stiles had feared the cub was straying near town because of a lack of food in the preserve, and his fears seemed justified as the cub quickly devoured a second one. Stiles started tossing the salmon closer and closer to his spot on the porch, coercing the cub to come closer. When the bear was close enough to touch Stiles slowly sat down and turn his head so that his eyes were down cast and his neck bared. A cold nose was shoved against his neck after a moment of silent tension. Another moment of crucial silence passed as Stiles kept his heart rate as slow as possible with a bear’s snout against his throat.

“Mama!” the voice suddenly crying out in Stiles’ ear made him jump, but didn’t surprise enough to stunt his reflexes as he quickly caught the toddler.

Stiles hushed him and rocked them both side to side as the little boy cried. They stayed like that for a long time, until finally the child stopped crying and seemed to have fallen asleep.

Stiles carried the little boy up to his room and held him close through the night.

The next day Stiles woke to a child snuffling against his neck.

“Good morning, little cub. Did you sleep okay?”

“I miss mama.” the cub whined pathetically before nuzzling under Stiles’ chin.

“Do you know where she is?”

“Big, big bear tried to get us but mama said I had to run so fast and I did!” He smiled at Stiles.

“Yes you did little guy. I’m so proud of you. Have you seen your mama since?”

“No. She said to run until I found papa, but he was mean and didn’t like me, so i just kept on going.”

Stiles’ brow furrowed for a moment as he tried to connect the pieces. Did he just run away from a fight or did his father actually not want him?

“How did you know papa didn’t like you, buddy?”

“He told me I was never ‘posed to let my fingies and toesies come out. He talked real bad about mama too.” Stiles hugged the little boy closer.

Stiles held him tight until the little boy wormed his way out of his arms and asked, “Can I have more fish?”

“Yes you can! What’s your name little cub?”

“Jesse!”

After eating a real breakfast, which included more salmon, Stiles told Jesse all about each pack member and how nice and amazing they all were so the little boy wouldn’t be scared of them.

“You have to come here because I don’t have a carseat. How am I supposed to get a toddler to the loft in my Jeep without a carseat?”

“No she’s not a deathtrap, thank you very much.”

“Just hurry up and get here. He wants to meet you guys.”

Stiles sighed heavily.

Jesse hopped up into his lap, content to play with his hoodie strings until the pack arrived.

Scott was the last to arrive, already grinning as he took his helmet off.

“I told you we could totally get the cub safely!” Scott cheered, his hand high waiting for Stiles to slap it.

“Yeah man. We did it.” The high five that followed was weak.

Lydia crossed her legs and tossed her hair back before speaking, “Really Scott? Stiles is the one that helped Jesse. Not ‘we’. Him.”

Stiles shot her a grateful look as he scooped Jesse off of his leg.

“Okay guys so this is Jesse. He’s a spirit bear shifter and he’s been traveling alone for a long time. He’d got nowhere else to go and he’s going to be staying with me from now on.”

He hadn’t been consciously aware of the decision until he had spoken the words, but Jesse absolutely was going to stay with Stiles and his father. He’d seen the look on his father’s face when he’d introduced them that morning.

Scott spluttered “You can’t just adopt him like it’s nothing.”

“He’s a shifter Stiles. He need more than you can give.” Derek demanded.

“Well I raised your pack pretty well on my own.”

Derek glared, while the other snickered.

“What about when his parents come looking?” Peter inquired, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“I’ll tell you why they won’t when he lays down for his nap in a bit.”

“No nap!”

“Yes nap.” Stiles said plainly, lightly pinching the boy’s cheek.

“No! Nap!”

“You want to go nap right now?”

“No.” This time the words were more subdued.

“Anyways, Jessop Stilinski will be officially adopted by the end of the day. And I don’t care about any of your opinions.”

He’d expected to see angry faces ready to argue, but was greeted by the sight of his friend’s grinning faces.

“You’re such a dad. How did we not see it?” Malia laughed.

“I thought it was a good idea from the start. He shouldn’t be out there alone.” Cora said, reminding everyone that she’d once been in Jesse position.

“I can’t wait to see you in a fanny pack, darling.” Peter leered, reminding Stiles he needed to finish his pop culture and fashion lessons with Peter.

“Stiles. No. You aren’t strong enough to protect him.” Derek pleaded.

“Seriously man, he’s not safe here.” Scott added approaching Stiles as if to take Jesse from him.

Jesse whimpered and ducked his head into Stiles chest, no doubt feeling Stiles’ rage through their fledgling pack bond.The sound of his cub being scared and unsure broke something in Stiles and suddenly the two alphas were on the ground, struggling under the pressure of Stiles’ magic. He ignored the defensive wolves at his back, scared and threatened by the sight of their alphas on the ground but in control enough to not interfere.

Stiles felt his feet rise from the ground and the ends of his hair lift from his scalp as wind tore through the house, swirling quickly around Stiles and Jesse. He knew his eyes had changed to the silver that came with his magic and that his veins had once again turned black, he did not like what he looked like when he let his magic course through him this strongly, but he would not let them take his child from him.

“I am the strongest member of this pack.” The words filled the living room as if they to were made of magic.

The wolves behind him whimpered and submitted, but he did not care about them.

“Okay! We were wrong! Stiles stop this!” Scott shouted, still being crushed into the ground.

“Stiles!” Derek cried after a long moment of Stiles’ continued silence.

Stiles sighed, releasing his magic back into the ground and freeing the wolves he’d trapped.

Both rose quickly, angry and embarrassed.

“Do not ever do that again.” Derek spit the words, Stiles would undoubtedly be pushed against a wall if he hadn’t been holding a laughing toddler.

“I can’t believe you man.” Scott muttered before following Derek out the door.

Stiles didn’t move as the rest of the pack filed out after their alphas, a few saying goodbye to him and Jesse.

“That was fun!”Jesse cheered pulling on Stiles’ hoodie strings excitedly.

“Yeah, and now I’m ready to take a nap. How about you buddy?”

“No nap!”

Stiles didn’t answer the pack’s messages or attend any pack meetings for a month. A month of taking care of Jesse and picking a college close enough to help if anything happened, but still a good criminal justice school. It was a month full of frustration and fighting with a four year old.

Eventually Scott texted and demanded what they could do to show that they value him and need him in the pack, which sparked an idea in Stiles’ head that ran rampant over the next few days.

He replied, “Prove it.” and sent his location to the pack group message.

He was currently sitting in the exact middle of the preserve surrounded by eleven doors, most of which he knew would never open. He didn’t realistically expect any of them to open.

He had transformed the preserve into a giant maze with eleven entrances, each one spelled to only allow one person to enter, and many chambers filled with tricks, traps, monsters, and riddles. He was sick of the pack pretending to value him, it was time to see who actually did.

Stiles practiced the alphabet and counting to ten with Jesse while he waited, the four year old would be starting school in the fall and needed to catch up to the kids that hadn’t been a bear for over a year.

The first one into the maze was Malia though she was not the first to lose, that honor went predictably to Isaac. The first chamber had two tunnels, one tunnel had Scott’s name over it, the other had Derek’s, but both were correct. Both wolves were caring alphas who had their own faults, neither was the better alpha. Isaac could not pick which alpha he was more loyal to in his heart, the ground opening up from underneath him for hesitating too long.

Stiles snickered as Jesse loudly counted his fingers and Isaac fell to the bottom of a pit.

Malia turned out to be the second to go, charging straight past the riddles and warnings Stiles had spent forever thinking of and falling straight into the moss covered pitfall, joining a grumpy Isaac. Stiles smiled at her roar of fury but couldn't help feeling disappointed that she hadn't even though to read the engraved signs he'd placed in easy eye level.

Stiles smiled in delight as everyone was approaching halfway, he had not expected most to make it very far at all. The pitfall warnings we're closer to riddles and he thought he'd made them difficult to understand.

Poor Allison lost in the chamber Stiles had spelled to show them a lost loved one. Crying for the mother her memories had conjured up, a cold woman who despite her coarse words had genuinely loved her daughter. It was a nasty trick, but Stiles constantly had his mother’s death thrown in his face every time a bad guy smelled his magic. He’d thought that chamber would get Derek or Cora since they’d lost more than anyone, but both were hardened by their grief and were able to smell the magic on the mirages, which was not something he'd anticipated and quickly rectified for one specific chamber.

Cora dropped in the chamber Stiles had placed a singular joystick, she did not know the song of time despite Stiles setting it as his ringtone and the motions as his password to everything. He couldn’t really fault her for that though, but this maze wasn’t about picking favorites or feeling guilty it was about the pack proving which of them genuinely knew Stiles and proving that while alone they could only go as far as their individual weaknesses allowed. Hopefully they'd understand why he'd targeted their weaknesses by the last chamber, that is if anyone actually reached it.

Scott and Derek were breezing through, but Stiles had something saved for them towards the end so he turned his attention to Erica and Boyd.

Erica lost in the chamber of wendigos, swarmed by the realistic illusions before finally dropping into the pit that held her pack mates. Stiles had fought a coven of wendigos last summer on his own and no one had realized how close he'd actually came to dying. Now they'd understand. Boyd continued passed to the chamber with four levers and four Hogwarts houses, pull the right lever and he’d pass. Unfortunately Boyd pulled Gryffindor, and into the pit he fell. Boyd had had a tendency to put Stiles in a heroistic light ever since sophomore year when he'd dragged Erica and Boyd out of that basement with his bare hands, unable to much with his magic at that point and scared that he'd get them all killed if he'd tried.

Lydia was fearless as she screamed wendigos into oblivion and narrowly avoided picking the wrong house, but as she'd moved to pull the wrong lever she seemed to realize it didn't matter what she thought of him this was about what he thought of himself. She did not make it passed the mirrored chamber, sadly. Surrounded on all sides by mirrors and a singular sign that read “How do you know you’re you?” she crumpled shouting, “You’ll never need someone else to tell you who you are Stiles!”, unable to solve the riddle from Stiles’ perspective before the pit opened up beneath her.

Kira had shouted, “In a dream you have extra fingers!” before charging through the closest mirror, confident in her answer. The next chamber took Kira down unfortunately. All she had to do was keep control of her shift while six golem approached slow and menacingly. She couldn’t keep her kitsune in, her aura exploding out around her and she shouted, “Stay back!”

Derek and Scott had both just arrived to the second to last chamber. Inside was the illusion of a human woman, this time spelled to smell only human. She asked for their help, tears streaming down her face as she approached and a knife dripping in kanima venom. She took Scott down while he asked her what had happened. Derek faired better, incapacitating her quickly and without real harm.

Jesse gasped beside Stiles drawing his attention away from the monitors he used to watch each pack member. Standing before them covered in blood was a very exhausted Peter Hale.

“Really Stiles? Mirages and illusions the whole way, but the last chamber has a real creature?” the werewolf inquired as he approached a shocked Stiles.

“I gotta keep ya on your toes Creeperwolf.” Stiles grinned, expecting Peter to lightly cuff his head.

Peter smiled at him before placing a gentle, loving kiss on Stiles’ stunned lips. The werewolf promptly passed out after, collapsing at Stiles’ feet.

Stiles looked up just in time to see the pit open up into the last chamber where Derek was fighting the hydra. The pack leapt out of the pit together and took down the hydra quickly. They entered the sitting room Stiles and Jesse had inhabited for the passed couple hours and looked at Stiles expectantly.

“Did we pass then?” Isaac sneered.

“Yes. But only in the end. I was just trying to show you guys that alone we are weak but together, using everyone’s strength we are a pack and as a pack we can overcome anything.”

Stiles winced.

“You’re also a vindictive little monster.” Malia huffed.

“That too.” Stiles shrugged.

“And Peter?” Derek asked, pointing to the collapsed form of his uncle.

“I had not counted for Peter’s unwillingness to work together or lose.” Stiles grinned.

He had not accounted for Peter, that was for sure. He touched his lips for a moment in thought.

“Dinner time yet, ‘Tiles?” Jesse whined more than asked.

Stiles nodded and snapped his fingers, the room and the maze around them disappeared in an instant, the nine hydras returning to their stomping grounds in Greece.

“Peter stop eavesdropping. I know you're awake.” Stiles had been monitoring Peter’s heart rate and healing factor since the moment he’d passed out and knew that for the last ten minutes the older man had been listening to the pack yell at Stiles.

“Guilty.” Peter replied with a smirk as he sat up.

Stiles turned back to his angry friends and motioned for them to continue.

“How could you make Allison face her mother’s ghost?”

“How was anyone supposed to know there would be a giant hole in the middle of the pathway?”

“You know I’m scared of wendigos, Stiles!”

Peter finally joined the pack in the kitchen, but chose to stand by Stiles and face the pack, “No one was supposed to win. Stop being angry that he knew your weaknesses when you also know his. Pack is about catching others when they stumble, and not only have you all been stopping him from lifting you up, you’ve been ignoring his own pitfalls.”

The pack sat in silence for a moment as they thought about how they did actually know Stiles’ short comings and weaknesses and how he’d used theirs to show them that a pack is a unit not a group of individuals working towards their own goals.

“Well the test was subjective which means it cannot be used as an adequate grading system.” Lydia huffed.

“Someone did win. You did, Uncle.” Derek reminded them.

“That’s because I have no weaknesses.” Peter replied with a smirk.

“Or he forgot about you.” Scott mumbled.

“Or, I forgot how ruthless Peter is when he’s not being a dick and using it against us.” Stiles shrugged.

The mage’s eyes lit up for a moment before he turned to Peter completely, “How did you defeat the Hydra alone?”

“You mean you weren’t watching?” Cora asked, the Hale family eyebrow look morphing her features.

“Jesse was trying to count to twenty and Scott was being stabbed by a crazy woman, so no I wasn’t watching.” Stiles sniffed, crossing his arms defensively.

Peter turned his body towards Stiles too, as if they were speaking only to each other and the rest of the pack was no longer in the room, “I simply set it on fire.”

“I didn’t know you could kill them with fire. Peter, you’re a burn victim.” Stiles said in awe.

“Two times over. I’m aware of my weakness and do not let it stop me.”

“If you’d tried to fight it the pack would have came to your aid.”

“Would they have?”

Stiles glanced at his friends guilty faces before stepping closer to Peter.

“I wouldn’t have let you die.”

“I will never die again, darling.”

“No. You won’t.” Were Stiles final words on the subject.

He turned back to his friends and smiled, “So who’s ready for dinner?”

“Me!” shouted Jesse, Malia, and Erica.

Stiles was glad to see the pack working as a unit more in the aftermath of the maze. Derek stopped patrolling alone, Stiles and Deaton had started working with Kira on her control, Peter started teaching Erica how to fight Wendigos specifically, and over night almost as if my magic the fireplace in the loft had disappeared and the stove had changed from gas to electric. They’d started training together more, often times training separately but still together.

Jesse was acclimating to pack life easily, romping around training sessions and tackling his alphas in literal bear hugs. He still clung to Stiles when the betas growled or nipped at each other, tempers flaring easily between teenagers, but on the whole he was adjusting well. He was especially fond of the Hales, most likely due to the fact that they too were born shifters and were more intune with their wolves. The Hales were also fun to hang on and crawl all over if Jesse’s shrieks of glee as he ran and leaped onto Peter’s back were anything to go by.

“Stiles.”

He hummed, looking up from his latin notes and into Peter’s amused, yet exasperated face.

“You’ve been sunbathing long enough, your skin burns too easily, love.”

Stiles nodded silently, his mind still running through phrases and definitions.

“Up you get.” Peter spoke quietly, lifting Stiles off the blanket he was sprawled across in the grass.

“Don’t forget my books, Peter. I need to figure the summoning ritual out. Gotta reverse engineer it.” Stiles mumbled, his body and mind made soft by his time focusing in the warm sun.

“I won’t forget them. Let me get you to bed and I will come back for them.” Peter reassured him.

“‘Tiles! Papa is taking me to the park!” Jesse yelled, racing down the stairs and almost colliding with the very wombly mage.

“That’s amazing, sweetie. Remember that Papa isn’t as strong as you and the wolves so you gotta be gentle with him okay?”

Jesse huffed, his little foot stomping the ground, “I know how to play with Papa, ‘Tiles! I’m not a baby!”

“You know he didn’t mean it like that, cub. Don’t be mean.” Peter spoke calmly, but even Stiles could feel the reprimand in the man’s aura.

Jesse crossed his arms, his eyes turning away from Peter and Stiles as he mumbled, “Sorry Pe-ya. Sorry ‘Tiles.”

“I’m sorry too, cub. Have fun with Papa today.” Stiles tried to smile at his adopted son, but his face felt so heavy it was more of a flash of a grin than a genuine smile.

He ruffled Jesse’s hair as he passed the four year old and headed for the stairs.

“Hey Peter?” Stiles asked as he laid back onto his bed, immediately burrowing into the blankets.

“Yes, love?”

“Why do you only call me ‘Love’ now?”

“Because I love you, Stiles.”

Stiles was well on his way to being asleep, but his heart lurched at the admission.

“I love you too, Peter. But you should still call me the other pet names too. I like them.” His last words were mumbled into Peter’s chest as the older man joined him in his bed.

Peter ran his hand down Stiles’ back and whispered, “Anything for you, darling boy.”

#steter #peter/stiles #peter hale/stiles stilinski #kyla creates #kyla writes

41 notes · View notes

mf-despair-queen · 7 years ago

Text

Witness Protection - FBI!Stiles Stilinski

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: FBI!Stiles Stilinski/Reader

Word Count: 17,677

Summary: Someone was coming for her. Y/N was going to be killed after her fiancee was murdered. And it was up to Stiles to make sure she was safe. It was up to him to watch her.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Unprotected Sex, Shower Sex, Cowgirl, Reverse Cowgirl, Side Sex, Table Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Oral (both receiving), Voyeurism, Masturbation, Vibrators, Death

Notes: :) It is 3 AM. Send help. @malia--stilinski is asleep and can’t keep yelling at me about side sex as she proofreads for me LOL(Read more is there. Do not ask about it)

“Stilinski!”

Stiles glanced up from his keyboard, staring wide-eyed at his boss. Aaron curled a finger at the twenty-one-year-old FBI agent - the youngest member he had on his team - as if to tell Stiles to join him in his office. Stiles swallowed thickly, afraid he had messed up something else since joining Aaron’s team.

He had moved quickly through the FBI internship program, proving the knack he had for crime solving and piecing clues together. But since being placed on his team three months ago, he had done nothing but mess up. Others found his annoying, no matter how right he was. And even though he had improved with a gun, he still fumbled on the job.

No one could really blame him. It was his first mission and the man was holding a family hostage. It was only naturally for the Stilinski man to do what he did best: miss his shot and have to have his teammate, Spencer, pick up the slack, saving the family.

Stiles was placed on desk duty since.

Standing from his desk, he headed for Aaron’s office, fixing his tie in the process. He kept trying to figure out what he had done wrong this time, preparing himself to be scolded for whatever reason. He could hear the rest of his team snicker behind him, Stiles bounding up the stairs to the office.

“Shut the door, please,” Aaron told him when he walked in. The older man was sitting behind his desk, a folder in hand. Stiles nodded, shutting the door and sitting in the chair across from his boss. Aaron held out the folder for Stiles to take, Stiles trying to keep his hand from shaking as he took it. “How long have you been with us again?”

“Three months, sir,” Stiles said shortly. “I finished the internship last spring.”

“And how long were you in the internship?”

Stiles blinked in confusion, unsure why he was being questioned like this. “Roughly three years. I started straight from high school.” Aaron nodded, only making Stiles’ forehead scrunch in confusion. “May I ask why you asked, sir?”

“Just questioning my decision,” he stated bluntly, Stiles almost paling. “You’re still new and you haven’t had the best track record since joining our team.”

“Sir, I-”

“But I want to see how well you can do on your own,” Aaron cut him off. “I know how hard it is joining a team like this. You are still so young and everyone here had been working for a long time. You want to live up to their standards, but I think you’re letting them get to you. You’re smart, Stilinski. No doubt about it. You helped with that Brazil case your first year.”

“I get it from my pops,” Stiles said on instinct, freezing. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to talk out of turn.”

“Your dad must be proud,” Aaron said, a smile on his stoic face. Stiles found himself smiling as well. “I have a son. His name is David and he just turned four. He always says how he wants to grow up to be like me. So, I can only assume how proud your dad is to see your accomplishments.”

“He is, sir.”

“Good. Which means you will need to work extra hard to keep that up,” Aaron said.

“No pressure,” Stiles muttered to himself. “So, what is this mission, sir?”

Aaron motioned to the folder, Stiles opening it to look at the photos and reports that were detailed inside. “Taylor Tucker. Well known politician that was running for Senate at the tender age of thirty. He was found murdered in his apartment by his fiancée. Multiple stab wounds to the stomach and genitals, throat cut, eyes stabbed out, and even his lips sewn shut.”

Stiles almost gagged at the amount of blood in the photos. It was a literal bloodbath yet it was only one dead body. “Sounds like someone didn’t like this guy running for office. I would assume the lips sewn shut is a way to represent that this guy didn’t want him to talk about something. Or it could even be that he didn’t talk about something. Hatred for politicians though?”

“Most likely,” Aaron said. “This is the fifth one like this in the last month. Same MO.”

“And we’re just not getting something on this?” Stiles asked, relatively appalled.

“Another team is handling the murder investigations actually. You have a different job,” Aaron went on. “Until recently, the politicians have all been single. No relationship to speak of. Divorced, widowed, you name it. But-”

“This one was found by his fiancée,” Stiles spoke up. Aaron nodded.

“She’s still shaken up by finding his body, but even more by the message that was left.” Stiles looked at the photo of the message. It read simply I’m coming for her next. Silence the lambs that lead to slaughter. “It was written in his blood on their bedroom wall.”

“Maybe whatever he spoke out about, she knows. He doesn’t want her to talk. Or he’s looking to eliminate anyone related to whatever triggered his outburst.” Stiles bit at his thumb, looking over the photos again. “Do we have a list of common topics he talked about during his speeches? Or things that he has been associated with?”

“They’re working on it,” Aaron said. “We’ve decided to move her into witness protection for the time being until we can catch this guy. The Behavioral Analysis Unit will look to stop the killings while you protect the girl.”

“Alright,” Stiles said, swallowing thickly. “What um… what do I do?”

“You will escort her to a designated safe house. No one is to know where this house is. You will be the only person to communicate with her and help her with things. You are to watch her every move and report if anything suspicious happens. You protect her with your life or it’s your life on the line, Stilinski.”

Stiles feel himself shiver in slight fear, mostly from the cold look his boss sent him. He nodded regardless though, closing the file. “Understood, sir.’

“Good. She is down in holding right now actually. You can head down there and take her to the safe house. Maybe get to know her. Remember, her fiancé was just killed, so don’t over question her. The address to the safe house is in the file. Burn it when you are done. I expect weekly reports on the situation until the matter is resolved. If not weekly, then daily. As soon as I know the unsub has been apprehended, I will let you know so you can help her transition back into daily life.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I won’t have you on other missions while you are responsible for her. You can still complete your paper work from home. You will have access to the cameras in the safe house from your personal laptop, so you will be free to work from home more often. Try not to fall behind in your work. Or training. You can’t let your shooting get worse than it already it.”

“I miss one shot,” Stiles grumbled, Aaron narrowing his eyes. “Sorry, sir. I’m just going to go grab her and get going. I will send you an update tonight.”

“Good,” Aaron said. Stiles stood from his seat, heading for the door. His hand barely touched the doorknob before Aaron spoke up again. “Don’t let me down, Stilinski.”

“Yes, sir,” Stiles mumbled, rushing out the door.

He quickly gathered his belongings, throwing his messenger bag over his shoulder. He ignored the snickers and words of his teammates, holding the folder to his chest as he rushed down the hall and away from his desk. He let out a low sigh, wishing that his team would accept him. He knew they always gave him a hard time because he was young and messed up more often than he liked, but he was smart.

Maybe this will show them that I’m one of them finally.

He flashed his badge to the person outside of holding, setting his belongings down outside the holding room. He glanced through the two-way mirror, his heart nearly stopping. You were sat at the table in the dimly lit room alone, draw random shapes on a piece of paper to keep yourself preoccupied. He took a second to admire your beauty, admitting to himself that you were more beautiful in person than in the photo provided. You kept your hair back so he caught sight of your eyes, the color dulled from the traumatic events you had gone through. Your eyes were red and puffy from tears. You were wearing a baggy blue hoodie that read Mets, the Stilinski man smiling to himself. He wouldn’t tell what you were wearing otherwise, but he didn’t need to. He noted how your hands were shaky as you drew, keeping your eyes low to keep yourself distracted.

“It must be hard to think someone is after you,” he whispered to himself. “I hope you never have to face the fear of having a gun placed to your forehead. It’s never any fun.” He let out a bitter laugh, counting the number of times he found himself in a near death experience due to the supernatural activities in Beacon Hills. He felt bad seeing the way you were already at the idea of finding a dead body and to think someone would be after you. He didn’t want to see that become a reality.

With a deep breath, he knocked lightly on the door, sliding into the room. You looked up from the paper you were doodling on, watching stiles close the door behind him, sitting in the seat across the table from you. You cocked your head at him, taking in his appearance. He was young, much younger than you thought he would be when you were told someone would be protecting you until the threat was taken care of. His hair stood upright, still managing to look soft and silky the way he had styled it. He was pale, allowing the constellation of moles that lines his jaw to stand out against his skin. His eyes were gorgeous - a mixture of honey and caramel that sparkled even in the darkest light with curiosity, insight, knowledge and desire for justice and truth. He constantly fidgeted with the black tie around his neck and you found yourself questioning how he could breathe with the buttons on his white shirt fully buttoned to the neck. The shirt was neatly tucked into his slacks and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His badge hung around his neck, bouncing against his chest with each step he took on his way to his seat.

“Hi,” he breathed, his voice a mixture of sweet and husk, making you shiver in your spot. It was deliciously deep, but was smooth and sweet like a prime maple syrup. You felt comfortable with him already, seeing him send a gentle smile your way. He held out a hand, the veins sticking out along his skin and up his exposed arms. “My name is Mieczyslaw Stilinski, but you can call me Stiles. I work with the FBI and I’ve been assigned to your protection while the BAU investigates the murder of your fiancée and others.”

You gave a weak smile, taking his hand in yours. His was much larger and encased your completely, but his hold was tender. “It’s nice to meet you, Mieczyslaw. My name is Y/N.”

Stiles was somewhat shocked you could pronounce his name with such ease, but continued to smile regardless. “Please, call me Stiles. Everyone else does and it’s much less of a mouthful than Mieczyslaw,” he chuckled. “When I started the FBI internship, my instructor couldn’t even pronounce it. And I’ve gone by Stiles pretty much my entire life.”

“Alright, Stiles,” you giggled, Stiles smiling at the sound.

“Before we head out, can you tell me anything that you know about what’s going on? I’ve been briefed shortly on the situation but I’d like to hear what’s going on from you.”

You looked down at the table, playing with your fingers. “I don’t really know much. E-everything was fine when I left for the store. He was going over his speech for the upcoming press conference. I doubt he even realized I left. I made sure to lock the door when I left. And it was still locked when I got home. But he was dead in the middle of the living room floor.”

Stiles watched the tears slip from your eyes, cascading down your cheeks in streams. “I see. I’m so sorry.”

“Why would someone do this?” you cried, hiding your face in your hands. Stiles watched your shoulders shake, feeling guilty for asking. “Why would someone want to kill my fiancé? Why would someone come after me? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That’s what we will figure out,” Stiles told you, giving a reassuring smile. “When people do these things, there’s always a reason for who they target. Rarely do people target those without a reason. We just have to figure out why he chose to target your fiancé and… and you. But in order to do that, you have to help in any way you can. It doesn’t have to do today. Just as you feel comfortable, tell me anything you can think of that might help pinpoint why you were targeted.”

“Like what?” You asked, sniffling quietly. You wiped at your tears, staring at the man.

“Anything you think might give someone a reason to hate your fiancé. Did he wrong someone? Did he advocate something about a specific person? He was a politician so maybe he was backing something that threatened to harm someone or a set of people. Anything that you think might be a reason why someone had it out for him. He wasn’t chosen at random and because of him, they’re after you.”

“I-I don’t know…”

“That’s fine,” Stiles said quickly, taking your hand. “It’s fine. You don’t need to rush it. We are investigating right now and they might be able to figure something out without your help. But if you can remember anything that happened before that will help, you just have to let me know. I will be with you every step of the way. I am here to protect you. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He gave your hand a firm squeeze, your hand warm in his. You looked up at his smiling face, the curl of his lips reassuring. You wiped at your eyes again, nodding at him. “I trust you, Stiles. Just tell me what I have to do.”

“Let’s head to the safe house and I will explain everything.” He stood from his chair, holding a hand out towards you. You took his hand, standing from your own seat, allowing him to lead you from the room. He grabbed his belongings, leading you silently through the halls to a garage. He opened the back door of a black car, allowing you to slide in before he slipped into the front seat. The car hummed to life and you barely felt it move as he pulled out of the garage and onto the streets of Virginia.

You were taken to a small suburb to a small white house. Stiles parked in the driveway, killing the engine before helping you from the back of the car. He opened the door for you, allowing you to walk in first. The house was small and quaint, already furnished to your liking. The kitchen was large to allow you to experiment with recipes you always wished to and the living had a large tv with plush couches. The single bedroom in the house had a large bed and a luxurious shower in the attached bathroom.

You hugged yourself as you wandered the house, finding Stiles sitting on the couch in the living room. “It’s nice,” you spoke lowly, sitting next to him.

“As long as you are comfortable while you are safe,” he laughed. “There is a wig in the bathroom for you so if you do need to go out for anything, people won’t recognize you. If anyone asks your name, you will be going by Charlotte Johnson. You moved here recently to get away from your ex and you work online from home for a company called ‘In The Fit’.” He held out a license with your fake identity along with a phone. “If you need to go out without me, you need to contact me first. I need to know where you are going and what you are doing. You should try to minimize going out without me though.”

“Alright,” you sighed, taking the items.

“I will be by often to help with shopping, cleaning. Whatever you might need help with. Even if you just need a shoulder to cry on, I will be here. You just need to call. I am here for you, alright?”

“Alright,” you sighed. Stiles frowned, taking your hand in his. You looked up at him, tears forming in your eyes again.

“Hey, it’s alright. Everything will be alright. Nothing will happen to you.” He used his thumb to wipe away your tears. “I will do everything I can to help solve this and keep you safe. I promise. You just have to trust me, alright?”

“I trust you,” you told him. Stiles smiled, standing from the couch. You remained sitting, watching Stiles head for the door.

“If you need me, you just have to call, alright? I will be here for you always.”

He walked out the door, leaving you alone to ponder what was going on. But in the back of your mind, all you could think about was the attractive agent that was assigned to your protection. He was young but deep in his eyes, you could see the smarts and wit he held. Your stomach fluttered and your heart soared Your life was in his hands and you gladly gave it to him.

“Nothing new is going on, sir,” Stiles told Aaron over the phone, changing into his plaid pajama pants. “She’s honestly barely left the house in two weeks. And no one has approached her when she goes out, with or without me watching her. There has been no signs of this guy coming after her.”

“We aren’t out of the woods yet, Stilinski,” Aaron said to him through the receiver.

“I know, sir,” Stiles sighed. He grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge, heading for his bedroom of his small apartment. “I talked to Emily with the BAU. She said there hasn’t really been any progress in finding this guy.”

“Has Y/N said anything?”

“Not really,” Stiles huffed. “Everything she has brought up was stuff we already considered. She can’t recall anyone that would have a grudge. She can’t think of something in Tucker’s campaign that would give reason to kill him. I’ve tried finding a link between him and the other victims, but nothing sticks out.”

“And how is she holding up?”

“Still taking it pretty hard but it’s not easy to find the body of your fiancé I’m sure. It’s hard enough seeing a dead body if you’ve never seen one before personally but to know the person makes it worse. And then finding out whoever did it is coming back for you? That fear isn’t something that will go away in a matter of days. She’s opened up quite a bit since she got to the safe house though. I don’t see her cry nearly as often as she used to. She’s been able to hold a conversation and helps as much as she can, trying to give ideas about who is after her.”

“That’s good,” Aaron said with his normal gruff voice. “Just don’t get too close, Stilinski. Remember, she is your job, not some play thing. You need to stay committed to protecting her. It’ll be harder if you get too close because either you fail or she leaves when you succeed.”

“I know, sir,” Stiles reassured. “I’m not looking for a quick one off, I swear. I am fully committed to this.” He bit his lip, knowing his boss was right. “I won’t get too close.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear,” Aaron stated. “Good work so far. Keep up the hard work.”

“Thank you sure. Have a great night,” Stiles finished, hanging up his phone. He dropped his phone on the bed, sitting at his desk. He cracked open his laptop, pulling up the cameras for the safe house. Unscrewing the lid on his water bottle, he sipped at the water, scanning the different cameras.

He stopped on the one for the bathroom, seeing the shower running behind the curtain. He felt bad for watching, leaning back in his chair. He couldn’t see anything, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about what was hidden by the white curtain. He pictured the water running down your body, your hands running through your hair as you lathered the shampoo in it. He could imagine your curves, his hands finding home on your waist-

“No,” he told himself, pushing out of the chair, letting it tip back onto the carpet. He shook his head, turning away from the computer. “This is wrong. So very wrong. I’m going to respect her privacy and not try to watch her shower. I’m not that kind of guy.”

His ears twitched when he heard the shower click off. He fought the urge to look back immediately, waiting a few moments before turning back to you. You were already dressed in some shorts and a tank top, towel drying your hair as you walked into the bathroom. Stiles let himself breath, picking up his chair so he could watch you for a bit before he slept. He watched you turn on the tv before scanning the other cameras for movement.

When he returned on you, you were leaned back on the bed, flipping through channels lazily. You finally stopped on a channel, lips curling upwards. Your rolled onto your stomach, digging through the bedside drawer for something he couldn’t see.

“What are you doing?” he asked aloud to himself. He leaned forward, sipping at his water. When you finally leaned back, you had a box in hand. He watched you open it, pulling out a bright red vibrator. The sight alone made him choke on his water, nearly spitting the liquid all over his computer. “Holy shit.”

He swapped to a different camera in the room, gaping at the sight on the tv. You had apparently stopped on some erotic movie where the man in it was currently kissing a woman, stripping her of her top. You bit your lip at the scene, wiggling around on the bed, the long vibrator in your hand.

“Holy shit, she’s watching porn. Oh my god. That’s what she bought when we were out that one day?” He buried his head in his hands, knowing his was blushing furiously. “She’s about to get herself off while watching porn. I should not be watching this. This is so wrong.”

Slowly, Stiles lifted his head, his face beet red from embarrassment. He meant to turn off the cameras to give you privacy but stopped when he spotted the bed empty. His brow furrowed, muttering a low ‘what’ to himself. The porn movie was still playing on the television but you had vanished, the box alone and vacant on the neat bedspread with the vibrator sitting next to it.

Straightening up in his seat, he zoomed through the multiple cameras until he spotted you in the den, grabbing the laptop left for you by the FBI. You clicked off all of the lights, arming the alarm before heading back to the room, shutting the door quietly. You placed the laptop on the bed, muting the tv.

“What are you doing?” he asked himself, thoroughly confused.

You sat on the bed with the laptop between your legs, typing on it furiously. Stiles bit his lip, typing away on the computer until he had hacked into the webcam of the laptop. He got an up-close look at your face, your eyes significantly brighter than when he first met you weeks ago. Your eyes scanned over the screen, typing aimlessly. Stiles felt his eyes dart to the vibrator that sat by your side, leaning on his desk to bite his nail anxiously.

You smiled to yourself, your tongue sticking out between your lips as you focused on the screen before you. “What to watch, what to watch?” you asked yourself. Stiles cocked his head, unsure what you were talking about. “This one should do.”

You pushed the laptop away, lifting your bottom off the bed. Stiles’ eyes widened when you slid your shorts down your legs, tossing them and your panties onto the floor. Instinct told him to slam the laptop shut and not look; this was private and not in his job description. But, he didn’t. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen, a trail of saliva slipping down his chin. He was enamored at the sight through the fifteen-inch screen on his desk, his plaid pants suddenly growing hot and tight.

You sat back on the bed, your legs spread wide open, your pussy was fully shot for him to see, glistening wet in the dim light of the bedroom. The laptop screen on your end seemed to brighten it, allowing Stiles to see every inch of pink skin. Your fingers trailed along it, tips covered in your juices, subtly spreading yourself open. The agent was glad he wasn’t drinking his water this time; instead, he choked on air alone. He could see your swollen clit and prime pussy.

He could hear the soft sounds of porn from the laptop. He figured you went for something a bit better than the fake movies shown late at night on tv. At the sound of the moans through the speakers, you sunk back into the plump pillows you piled behind you, slowly rubbing yourself. You let out your own low moans, your free hand running through your wet hair, getting lost in your locks.

“This is wrong,” Stiles told himself, shuffling in his seat. He unconsciously palmed the erection that had formed between his legs, a disgruntled groan sliding off his tongue. “So wrong.”

But the longer he watched, the less he felt the need to leave. All inhibitions to pry his eyes away from the screen had vanished, his desire and hormones spiking. He knew it was wrong but he didn’t care at this point. He wanted more. He wanted to see what happened. He wanted to be there, but watching from afar would have to do. He couldn’t compromise his job - you were his job - but that didn’t mean he couldn’t shamelessly enjoy himself just this once.

“Mmm, baby,” you moaned, Stiles’ hand twitching against his covered crotch. His eyes flashed a dark whiskey, leaning closer to get a better look. You rubbed circles at your clit, flicking the nub back and forth. Stiles pressed this tongue against the roof of his mouth, sinfully wishing that he could replace your fingers with it. Your eyes were closed, listening to the moans of whatever porn video you turned on, dipping your fingers lower every time the moans got louder.

Stiles pushed himself off the chair, almost ripping the laptop charger from the wall when he attempted to move the device to his own bed. He placed the computer down, watching from his standing position as your head fell back, fingers dipping deep into your wet core. Stiles licked his lips, pulling his shirt over his head, dropping it by his feet. His plaid pants fell to the floor next, his boxer briefs following not even seconds later. He stood nude before his computer, his cock hard and erect, sticking straight out in the chilled air of his apartment bedroom.

He settled onto the bed, his laptop beside him so he could easily watch what you were doing. His hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking himself slowly to start. His matched the pace that your fingers slid into your core, spreading yourself open wide.

“Fuck,” he grunted loudly, ruffling his hair. He watched your chest heave with uneven breaths, licking his lips. His eyes focused on your breasts, knowing you were braless under the tank top. They bounced subtly with each breath you took, Stiles’ mouth beginning to water. “Fuck, what I would give to see those babies.”

Almost as if you had heard him, he watched your free hand push up the tank top, fondling your breast in the palm. You moaned louder, arching off the bed. Your fingers moved faster inside you, making Stiles speed up as well, the agent swapping between your pussy and your breasts. Your tweaked your own nipples, tugging them between two fingers until they were boisterous and hard.

“Oh god, babe,” you mewled. At this point, Stiles knew you weren’t watching whatever you put on. You were imagining something completely different. But, he wasn’t arguing. To hear what you were picturing gave him something to imagine as well, thinking about what crazy things you could do in bed with him, regardless if it was nothing more than a fantasy. “Fuck, you’re so big. I love feeling your giant cock inside me.”

“Shit,” Stiles mumbled, looking down at his own large cock. Step one, check: large cock inside tiny pussy. He smeared the precum that produced from your erotic words over the tip, stroking himself faster.

“Oh baby,” you moaned louder. You pulled your fingers from your core, shaky fingers grabbing the vibrator from your side. You clicked it on, sliding the device through your folds before sliding it in completely. The thrusts were already fast, shoving it in as deep as it could go. “Just like that, baby. Nice and deep. Go as hard as you can. Fuck me, baby.”

“Oh god. I will,” Stiles moaned. His body was scalding hot, his blood boiling in his veins. His stomach clenched, abs tightening with the inevitable orgasm he was chasing. Veins ran up his arms the harder he jerked himself, eyes trained like a hawk on the vibrator that was being pushed into your wet core countless times. He listened to your countless moans, letting his mind wander to the things you said between moans, picturing himself fulfilling your needs and requests.

“Please,” you pleaded to no one in particular. “I need to cum. God, baby, let me cum around your massive cock!”

“Yes, please,” Stiles grunted, feeling himself reaching his end. Even without his FBI training, he could tell you were at your peak as well. Your body shook visibly over the shaky webcam feed, the thrusts of the vibrator growing sloppy. The device was coated in juices. Your toes curled into the duvet. Your hand on your bare breast squeezed, Stiles’ hands itching to grasp them between his fingers instead, massaging them as you cum. Your back arched off the bed, head falling back into the pillows.

“Oh god. I’m cumming!” You screamed. Your body was wracked with spasms, quivering against the mattress. Stiles could see your pussy throbbing, walls clenching around the device inside you. You let out a loud moan that melted his insides and filled his ears like music, the tune perfect when it reached his brain.

He mumbled curses to himself, finally allowing his eyes to close and his body lying flat against the bed. Sweat dripped down his brow, his burning body feeling like it was smothered in a crisp fire. His hand around his shaft sped up, free hand cupping his balls close to himself to intensify the orgasm he hit. With a low, husky grunt, his seed shot out from the tip, covering the skin of his chest and stomach, sticking to the dark hairs of his happy trail and the bunch around his shaft. His strokes slowed down until nothing else could be released, his body relaxing into his sheets. The agent let out low gasps for air, his chest heaving just as yours was through the screen.

He glanced over at the laptop, watching you clean the vibrator and pack it away. You fixed your shirt, leaning over the edge of the bed to grab your shorts and panties. You let out a content sigh, pushing your hair back from your face. He saw the smile on your face, the guilt he had pushed away punching him in the gut.

He slammed the computer shut, letting out a dissatisfied grumble. “What the fuck did I just do?”

Stiles didn’t sleep easily that night, wondering how he would handle the task at hand going forward. He wasn’t sure if he could look at you the same considering what happened. Not only had he watched you masturbate, but he masturbated himself. And he liked it. But he chose to bite the bullet, telling himself the job - your safety - was more important than his worrisome actions. He couldn’t let this affect what he was doing.

This won’t happen again.

Stiles sighed, dropping his armful of papers on his table, collapsing onto the chair. The last week had been stressful, Stiles putting extra time and effort into trying to piece together clues. And for what?

Nothing.

He had gotten nowhere.

But it kept him distracted. Since the night he watched you masturbate, he was trying to keep clear unless it was absolutely necessary. He tried to keep the tension away when he was with you personally, but you picked up on it quickly, questioning the young agent about why he was acting as odd as he was. Stiles quickly denied acting odd, writing it off as lack of sleep from work.

But you noticed how he flinched when he saw your laptop, keeping away from the bedroom whenever he was helping you with chores around the house. You chose to say nothing, but kept note of the odd behavior.

As a way to relax, Stiles decided to check on you. You should be home by now. You had called him when he was on his way to his office to let him know you were doing a shopping run. Apparently, the power had gone out overnight and the remainder of the food in the fridge had spoiled. He kept a lock on you with the tracker in your phone, so he knew you had gotten home just before he did.

He flicked through the cameras when he opened his laptop, finding you putting the groceries away. You had one final bag, but it remained sealed and on the counter as you put the last of the food away. Stiles blinked in confusion, cocking his head as he watched you. You kicked off your shoes, depositing them by the door. You made sure the door was locked and the security system was armed before grabbing the bag from the counter. You had a small pep in your step on your way to the bedroom, only sparking the spastic man’s curiosity more.

You sat at the desk in the corner of the bedroom, your back to the camera hidden near the door. You ripped the bag open, dumping the contents on the wooden table top, Stiles unable to make out what it was.

“Shit,” he scowled, biting his thumb nail. He couldn’t get a better angle unless you opened the laptop that was inches to your left. And would he get that luck? Probably not based on his horrible luck throughout high school when it came to the supernatural.

His heart sped up yet stopped when you reached towards the laptop after a few minutes of fiddling with the items from the bag. You opened the laptop, typing on it to log on. The second you were in, so was he. He accessed the webcam, getting the familiar up close and personal image that made his heart hammer with thrill and anxiety.

You typed at the computer for a bit before turning to the items. What you held up looked to be a joint. Stiles’ eyes narrowed, licking his lips. “No way. She didn’t go out to buy drugs. There’s no way. Marijuana is illegal in Virginia.” He glanced at the table, seeing the green herbaceous substance on the wood top along with a cheap casing to roll it into. “Oh my God. She’s smoking weed.” You held the lighter in your hand, the joint placed at your lips and ready to light.

Stiles debated with himself. As a government agent, he should abide by the law and stop you. You were committing a crime in front of his eye, though you didn’t know he could see you. And if he did call you out on it, he would know you were being watched more than you already thought you were. He was stuck - do his job and reveal himself, potentially outing his actions from a week prior, or leave it be and let the crime go, leaving him with the consequences if Aaron found out.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled up his control panel on his laptop, allowing him to talk to you through the computer. “You know, smoking weed is illegal. And considering you are in the hands of a federal agency, it isn’t really smart to commit a crime like this.”

He frowned when he saw your lips curl upwards, looking dead into the webcam. “So, I was right.”

“Excuse me?” he mused, trying to calm his thumping heart.

“You know, you’re not very good at hiding things, Stiles,” you quipped. The joint fell from your lips, allowing you to lean closer to the laptop. “You know, I had a feeling you were watching me.”

Stiles choked on the air around him, patting his chest to try and ease the pain he felt. “W-what are you talking about?”

“Don’t try to lie, Stiles,” you laughed. “I could tell there were cameras hidden around the house. And I figured you could access this little bugger.” You poked the webcam playfully, laughing happily. “I just needed a way to know for sure that you could see me. And this was the perfect spot. You couldn’t see what I was doing until I opened the laptop. And, you made your presence known.”

Stiles bit his lip, running a hand up his face and through his hair. He had been caught. He had been played. He had been outsmarted, which was rare for him. He found himself smiling slightly though, shaking his head at your words. “Well, why are you doing something you shouldn’t if you knew I was watching.”

“Oh, honey,” you giggled, shaking your head. “You were played so hard.”

“Explain?”

“I will tell you this much. It’s not weed,” you laughed, Stiles’ brow furrowing. “It’s a mixture of parsley and basil. It looks like weed if you don’t look at it close enough. Or through a webcam for that matter. I just wanted to make it seem like I was doing something I shouldn’t so you would speak up.”

“You’re,” he started, chuckling softly, “sneaky.”

“I know,” you laughed. “Thanks for confirming my suspicions, Stiles.”

“No problem. I’m just going to… disappear now or something.”

“Or,” you stopped him before he could do as he said. “If you are so inclined on watching me, you can just do so personally.” Stiles, who had turned away from the laptop to leave, turned slowly back to the screen. You had a small smile on your face, playing with strands of your hair shyly. Your eyes were on the table, your lip tugged between your teeth. “It gets a little lonely here by myself. And I could use a movie buddy at night.”

“You know it’s my job to protect you, right?” he asked, a smile evident in his voice.

“Yeah, I know,” you laughed. “Isn’t it better to protect me if you are here anyway?”

“I…”

“Please Stiles?”

He pondered your words, debating with himself. Don’t get close, he told himself. It’s my job. I can’t develop feelings. I need to protect her. He kept repeating those in his mind, unable to answer.

“Stiles?”

His mouth opened to answer…

The movie was forgotten in the background, laughter filling the room instead. You picked up your wine glass, sipping the bright red liquid slowly. Stiles drank his water, having opted out of the alcohol considering he was doing his job.

That’s what he said.

He had taken you up on your proposition to come over to watch you rather than through the computer at his apartment. Key word: watch. In the weeks he had been coming over, you had blossomed around him, opening up about anything and everything. And Stiles told you bits about himself, careful not to reveal too much when it came to his job and the supernatural.

You were able to connect on any levels, gossiping about a variety of things, be it music, movies, activities and even sports. You would cook together daily before curling up to watch a random tv show or movie, cuddled together on the couch under a warm fleece blanket. He had become a close friend to you, your broken heart finally beginning to mend.

Sure, there were days that you would try to focus on the case you were still stuck in. The murdered had yet to be caught. He even managed to get two more politicians in the weeks you were with Stiles. He hadn’t come after you from what you could tell. There were no signs that he tried to break into the house to approach you on the streets. You knew you weren’t out of the clear yet, but you were going on two months of protection. How long were you expected to stay in Stiles’ protection?

“I believe you drove your jeep into a ditch,” you giggled, placing the now empty glass down.

“It was my first time driving! It’s not my fault that I hit the bump and lost control!” Stiles defended. “I’m a better driver now!”

“I would hope so,” you giggled.

Stiles smiled, looking down at you. You were snuggled in his arms, you head against his chest. He hated to admit that he felt at home with you in his arms. But his heart hurt, the smile on his face disappearing over time. He felt wrong for being so happy, not knowing how you were holding up. He hadn’t bothered to ask you since the day he met you, not wanting to drudge up the memories of your murdered fiancé. He couldn’t imagine how it felt to see someone you love dearly get killed. Sure, he was with his mother when she passed on, but she had been sick for a long time. To find her brutally slaughtered would have torn him to pieces.

“Hey,” he spoke lowly, running his fingers through your hair. You looked at him, cheeks slightly flushed from the wine. “I haven’t asked in a while. How are you holding up?”

You frowned, sitting up slowly. Stiles watched you sink into the seat cushion, pulling the blanket around you to your chin. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” he pried.

“I’m just a bit numb from it all. Finding Taylor dead, knowing someone is coming to kill me for some reason, being stuck in witness protection for who knows how long. It’s a bit overwhelming if you ask me.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized on instinct, cringing slightly. The last thing you probably wanted was to hear those two words. “It can’t be easy finding the person you love killed like that.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah. ‘Love’. Right.”

Stiles’ brow scrunched, trying to decipher your words. “You weren’t in love with Taylor?”

“What was there to love?” you asked quietly, almost rhetorically.

“Then why were you engaged to him?” Stiles asked. This wasn’t in the file and he wanted to know more, for his own curiosity and the case.

“Arranged,” you sighed sadly. You played with a loose string on the blanket, letting it drop from your chin to your lap. “My dad was a politician as well. And it was set up to make Taylor look better to the voters. To make him more appealing because my dad was popular and I was likable.”

“And you went along with it?” he asked, almost angry.

“I was seventeen when they made the arrangement. I had no say in it, Stiles,” you said. Stiles opened his mouth to protest, stopping himself when he saw the tears leaking down your cheeks. “Do you know how it feels to be with someone that doesn’t care about you? Do you know how alone it feels when everything you know is a lie? To be forced into a relationship where there is no love and compassion? No support or happiness? For years, I’ve been stuck with him, modeled as a prefect trophy wife when I was kicked around and used?”

“He…” Stiles choked out. “He abused you, didn’t he?”

You nodded slowly. “All I’ve ever wanted was for someone to love me like I love them. I tried. I tried to fall for him but I couldn’t. But I couldn’t not love him either.” You wiped at your tears, though it was futile. More tears came out, your efforts to make them stop in vain. “Now, I’m probably going to die because of something he did. I don’t even know what he did to make someone this mad! I didn’t do anything! He never told me anything! How the fuck am I supposed to know what happened to cause this?”

Stiles pulled you into his chest, letting you sob. His shirt was soaked in tears, but he didn’t try to stop you. He cooed softly in your ear, running his hand along your back to sooth the emotional agony you were in. He felt your shoulders shake with each sob, tears of his own threatening to build up. You had become important to him, but even if you hadn’t, he would feel for you. He didn’t want to see you in pain.

Carefully, he lifted you from his chest, cupping your tear stained cheeks in his hands. “Hey. No thinking negatively. You aren’t going to die. We will catch this guy, I promise. And you will be able to move on, find someone that loves you as much as you love them and you will have that happy life you want.” He wiped at the tears with the pads of his thumbs, giving a soft smile. “You deserve all the happiness in the world. You are smart, funny, talented, beautiful, and if people don’t see that, then they are beyond blind.”

You blinked at him through your tears, staring at the smile that stuck to his lusciously pink lips. Without warning, you leaned in, placing your lips to his in a tender kiss. Stiles blinked in confusion, letting his eyes close after a moment, returning the kiss he had dreamt of without truly admitting it since the day he walked into the holding room.

His lips were soft, yours were smooth. They fit together perfectly, meshing against each other is a sweet embrace. His somehow moved to envelop yours, dragging along yours until they disconnected with a low smack. You moved in to kiss him again, Stiles pushing you back by the shoulder instead. He shook his head vehemently, his hair flopping in its wake.

“We can’t,” he mumbled. “We shouldn’t be doing this. I don’t want to take advantage of you when you are like this.”

“You aren’t,” you whispered, pushing closer to him.

“Your fiancé was just killed-”

“But he didn’t care about me. There was no emotion there. Honestly, being with you has been better than the years I spent with Taylor.” You paused, licking your lips. You stared at him with red, puffy eyes, though they sparkled with hope and desire. “Please, Stiles. I want this.”

Stiles eyed you for a moment, trying to pinpoint any sort of lie. But he saw the compassion your eyes help, the longing look you gave him. Slowly, he smiled down at you, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. Instead of answering, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, the connection ten times more passionate than before. Your eyes closed, arms weaving around his neck, sliding onto his lap to deepen the kiss.

His lips were soft and smooth, not a dry patch in sight. You melted into his touch, letting your lips part for his tongue to slither in sneakily. Your tongues swirled in small circles with each other, acting as if they were circling their prey before they pounced. And that’s exactly what he did. When the right moment came, his took control, sitting straight up against the couch so he could tower over you some, his tongue overtaking yours. It ran along the linings of your cheeks, tracing every crevice of your mouth before pulling away for air. A single string of saliva connected your mouths, your heavy breathing making your chest heave against his. Your eyes were half lidded, staring at his closed orbs.

“We really shouldn’t,” he mumbled halfheartedly, licking his lips. “I’m supposed to be protecting you. This is my job.”

“Just because it’s your job doesn’t mean you can’t like someone,” you whispered, kissing along his jaw to his neck. Stiles shuffled in his seat, knowing his cock was growing harder. “That you can’t care for someone.”

“I wasn’t supposed to care,” he grumbled lowly, his eyes opening. He took your face in his hands, kissing you softly. “I wasn’t supposed to get as close to you as I am. Why did you have to be so irresistible? You tempted me to come over to protect you.”

“Is that why you came?” you mused, watching his lips curl in a smile.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” he joked. “All I know is that you are an amazing person and I was smitten with you from the day I saw you. I hated seeing you so broken. I wanted to see you smile. And because of that, you became… important to me.”

“Smitten?” you mused again. “Such fancy words, Agent Stilinski.”

“Oh, you want fancy, eh?” he chuckled. His hand rested on your cheek, caressing the side of your face. “You, Y/N, are beyond amazing and your late fiancé was an idiot for not loving you and for treating you like shit. You are preternatural.”

You blinked. “You lost me, babe.”

Stiles grinned, leaning closer so your lips brushed. “You surpass what people call ordinary. You are absolutely breathtaking and extraordinary.”

You blushed, melting into his touch, waiting for his lips to touch yours again. Your heart was beating faster than you knew was possible. It was nearly impossible to breathe with the proximity you were sitting against him. His lips dusted over yours teasingly, making them tingle. You inched closer to him, Stiles strong arms winding around your body, your hips rocking against his skillfully.

Before either of you could make the first move, the credits rolled on the movie behind you, startling you with the boom of music it played. You blinked once, backing away from Stiles carefully. “I-I should put my wine away,” you told him. His arms regrettably dropped from your body, making you shiver from the cold shiver that ran up your spine from the loss of contact. Sliding off his lap, you headed for the kitchen, the bottle of half-finished wine in one hand and the empty glass in the other.

You corked the bottle, placing it in the fridge. You turned to take care of the glass only to meet two arms around your waist and a pair of lips to your neck. You sighed happily, sinking into his hold, arm wrapping around to tangle in his hair.

You were spun on your heel, Stiles lips almost hungry on yours. You didn’t protest, taking a step back with each step forward he took. Your backside met the edge of the table you normally ate at, Stiles taking a moment to effortlessly lift you onto the table itself. Your lips were heatedly moving against each other, dragging down in messy connections. The smacking of lips filled the dining area, tongues running up and down one another in the small opening between you.

You pulled away, Stiles lifting your loose shirt over your head, leaving it on the hardwood floor. He dipped back down instantly, resuming the heated kiss. Your fingers ran up his arms and along his shoulders, starting to work on the buttons of his shirt. You made quick work of them naturally, pushing the fabric off his shoulders so it pooled by his feet.

Pulling away, you ran your fingers along his bare but toned upper body. His pecs and biceps flexed under your gentle touch, veins running along his arms. He had the slightest patch of hair between his pecs, an even better trail of hair hiding the abs he had and leading into his dark-washed jeans. It was obvious that the years of lacrosse he told you about as well as the relentless FBI training had done his body wonders. He wasn’t the most muscular man in the world, but he was strong and lean, probably able to grapple a man into submission if allowed.

“Wow,” you whispered to yourself. Stiles chuckled, his lips curling into a smirk. “How? You can eat a whole cake by yourself!”

“A fast metabolism from lacrosse and always being on edge,” Stiles grinned, kissing your lips. You laughed, pulling him closer by the belt loops, smashing your lips to his again. Stiles let out a breathy moan into the connection, working on removing your bra while you worked on his jeans.

Almost in unison, your bra was yanked from your body while his jeans clatter noisily to the floor, Stiles trying to kick the denim off his ankles. His hands were preoccupied, finding a temporary residence on your chest. His palms met your breasts completely, lanky fingers giving them firm squeezes and tugs of the nipples. You attempted to return his gesture, palming his erection through his boxer briefs, gasping into the kiss at the realization of how large he was. Your core pooled with instant desire, wanting not only to see the package but have it buried deep inside you until you were cumming, your eyes rolling back in your head.

The kiss the broken, lips trailing down your jaw and neck to your chest. They wrapped around your nipple, sucking greedily at it and kissing it lavishly. His tongue flicked at the boisterous nub, his mouth watering the longer he stayed there. Meanwhile, he easily lifted your ass from the table, stripping you of the shorts and panties that were long moist and ruined, two fingers delving into your pussy between spread legs.

“Holy fuck, Stiles!” You moaned loudly, head falling back. His fingers were fast, curling into your g-spot that he seemed to gravitate to. Pleasure spiked in your body, unable to make out the subtle pop of his lips disconnecting from one breast and moving to the other. You continued to moan and shake, tugging at his hair or scratching at the table.

Before you could hit a high, his fingers pulled out and his mouth pulled away. Stiles licked his fingers clean before playing with the elastic of his Calvin Klein’s, kissing you softly. “You give the word. I won’t drop them if you say no. I won’t hold it against you.”

“Please,” you whimpered, kissing him again and again. “Please. I need to feel you. I want to feel good with you. Please, Stiles.”

He nodded against you, dropping the boxers and kicking them off his ankles. His shaft slid through your folds, poking at your entrance a few times before sliding in completely. You moaned louder than before, burying your head in his neck. Your fingers tangled in the hair on the back of his head and your legs wrapped around his waist, pressing yourself flush against him while he stilled hilt deep inside you. Stiles’ low grunt was directed into your ear, one hand pressed flat to your hip while the other wove through your own locks.

His hips pulled back slowly, silencing any trace of a moan from your lips with a deep kiss when he slid back in fiercely. He muffled the squealing moan, your nails curling into his scalp at the spike of pleasure that struck your body like a bolt of lightning. His thrusts repeated, steadily growing in speed and power until he was relentlessly shoving himself into you. The table rattled under your weight, the legs threatening to snap if you weren’t careful.

But you didn’t pay attention to the squeaking wood as it rubbed against the linoleum floor. You focused on his lingering lips, the smooth, pink cupid shaped curvatures brushing yours after he pulled away, panting for air. Your hands slid from the hair on his head to his fairly muscled back, feeling them tense and release with each thrust into you. Your fingers brushed over every inch of sculpted skin, feeling each ripple and mole that line his skin, tracing faded scars and current cuts.

“Stiles,” you whimpered for him, body shaking when he hit your sweet spot. The more often he hit it, the more your nail raked at his back, adding to the scrapes he already had from training in his free time. Stiles grunted in reply, dropping his forehead to your shoulder and kissing along your collarbone. “More.”

Without warning, you were lifted from the table, Stiles planted deep inside you still. He kissed you lightly, His hands pressed against your ass to keep you upright. You were bounced slightly against him, allowing him to continue pleasing you as he took cautious steps out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom. His mind was muddled with pleasure and happiness, a smidge of reminder flashing like a neon sign with every step he took.

Don’t be clumsy for once, Stiles.

He kicked the door open with a single push of the foot, ignoring the need to push shut it behind him. His attempt to not be clumsy came to a bitter end when he stumbled forward, your body slipping from his grasp. His breath hitched when he felt you slip from his hold, but resumed after an agonizing second when he watched you land on the fluffy mattress, body bouncing against the springs. You whimpered again, this time from the loss of warmth he provided, his cock standing proud in the air and glistening in your arousal.

You laid open on the bed, hair strewn in ribbons against the sheets, limbs spread open to give him a perfect view of your entire body. Your eyes twinkled in the lamp light with lust, desire and affection, leaving a thin layer of sweat to coat your skin. Your toes furled in anticipation for him, Stiles licking his lips almost in time with them.

He threw himself forward, pouncing on you like a lion hunting his prey, pressing his lips to yours. What he didn’t expect was the instant winding of your open limbs around his form and the shift of your weight rolling him to the side until he was pressed to the bed. Your lips didn’t leave his, your hips lifted just to allow your hand to slither down his body, aiding his cock to slide into you with a relative ease. His throating moan vibrated across to you, your tongues twisting together the entire thing.

Your hips rocked against his, mewling into the kiss at the way his cock slid in and out of you, pressing into your sweet spot and skimming your sensitive walls. You gradually sped up, pushing up on the balls of your feet so you were bouncing atop him noisily. The clapping of skin on skin filled the room, your nails raking down his chest so it matched the red lines on his back. Your hips collided with his, his cock sliding in as far as he could.

“Fuck,” he grunted, running a hand loosely through his hair. He tried to keep his eyes open, watching his soaked shaft emerge from your core, the tip nearly escaping before you capture every inch of him again. Your breasts bounced in time with every thrust, your body rocking on the balls of your feet for the best angle. He found it hard to keep watching you, ecstasy making his lids heavy.

The pleasure ceased for a second, your body flipping around so your back was to him. You were tighter this time, hands gripping the edge of the bed as you rode him quickly. Stiles moaned and groaned, his hand reaching out to grasp your partially jiggling behind, caressing it in his palm. He gave it a loud smack occasionally, encouraging you with dirty words and loud rasps of your name that told you that he was enjoying what you were doing.

You were impressed with his stamina, and he you, but both of you were dwindling fast. In an effort to drive you to the orgasm he knew you wanted - hell, he wanted to see your face when you came all over him - Stiles drove his hips upwards quickly. He fought to settle his feet on the edge of the bed on either side of you allowing him to push into you quickly. The godlike speed makes your eyes roll back, hands nearly slipping forward off the bed. His balls slapped against your clit with every powerful thrust, only intensifying the pleasure you felt.

“Stiles,” you managed to gasp, head thrown back and glancing back at him over your shoulder. His honey eyes met yours, giving a small nod. His lips twitched upwards with a smile, his heart rate picking up at your beauty.

“Let go, baby. Let it go. It’s ok,” he whispered huskily. You whimpered, arms shaking trying to keep yourself up. Your walls convulsed, clamping around him desperately. The sweat dripped down your face, your eyes fluttering closed as your high hit like a truck. You gripped the sheets tightly, tugging at them as you came around him. Your juices splashed around him, coating every inch of his length in multiple layers of slick liquid. You let out one long moan of his name, dragging it out as long as you could.

Stiles grunted. Your walls were tight and wet, his cock twitching sporadically. His thrusts grew sloppy, head pressing back into the bed as he shot off his built-up seed inside you. Long, sticky strings of sperm filled your core, Stiles ejaculating every bit he could inside you. Your tight walls milked him dry, your body shuddering from the full feeling you got with him. His thrusts slowed to ride out your highs, allowing your juices to mix entirely.

You unsteadily climbed off him, unable to crawl off the bed to clean up the slick sweat and leaking juices that covered your inner thighs and folds. Stiles placed a tender kiss to your forehead before rolling off the bed, stumbling into the wall a few times on his way to the bathroom. He returned with a warm towel, caring for you sweetly before returning to the bathroom to relieve himself. When he was done, he sat on the edge of the bed, watching you.

“Will you stay?” you asked weakly, almost insecurely. Stiles could see how vulnerable you were, your heart on your sleeve after everything you had told him. If he left, it would break you more than finding Taylor dead.

Stiles smiled, kissing you softly. He flopped onto the bed next to you, the bed jostling under his weight. The blanket was tugged over your bodies, Stiles’ arm wrapping around your body. Your arm slung over his torso, curling into his side. The agent held you close, his fingers either running along your spine or through your hair until he felt you relax completely, soft snores slipping through your lips. Stiles smiled, his heart clenching.

I wasn’t supposed to get close. This could cost me my job, right? He asked himself. He glanced at your sleeping face, the clenching easing yet worsening. It’s not my fault. I want her to be safe and happy.

He fell asleep, though it didn’t see to last long enough. It was pitch black outside when he jolted awake to your screaming and flailing. You achieved in smacking him in the face a few times, Stiles tending to an almost bloody nose as he attempted to still your body.

“Y/N! Y/N, wake up!” Stiles yelled through the darkness. He held your shoulders down, easing your body into a subdued state, trying not to harm you or scare you. He watched tears run down your cheeks, your fearful eyes slowly opening to look at him. Your struggled in his hold a bit, probably reminiscing about the pain you got with Taylor, “Y/N, it’s alright. It’s just me. It’s Stiles.”

“Stiles?” you asked, voice broken and choppy. Stiles smiled sadly, giving a nod.

“It’s Stiles, baby. It’s me. Just calm down,” he spoke gently. Your body slowly stopped fighting his, coming to a rest against the mattress. When he felt you were alright, he moved off you, sitting back on his knees. He didn’t care that he was fully nude still in front of you or that your breasts poked free from the disheveled blankets. He pushed back your hair, looking at your pale face. “Just breathe. Breathe for me. Deep breaths. I will go get you some water. Give me one second.”

“What? Stiles, no. Please-” he ran out before you could finish. “Don’t leave me.”

He returned less than a minute later, a cold bottle of water tucked under his arm, fixing the band on his boxer that he must have put back on while in the kitchen. He crawled back into his spot next to you, cracking the bottle open and handing it to you. You took slow sips under his watchful eye, slowly relaxing.

“Better?” he asked. You nod hesitantly, Stiles sighing. “Good.”

“You face is red,” you told him, trying to lighten the mood. The man chuckled, ruffling his already messy hair.

“Someone kind of nailed me in the face,” he quipped, making you flush a light pink on your pale face. Stiles’ smile fell, gnawing anxiously on his lip. “What were you dreaming about?”

“I um,” you started, tugging the blanket closer to you. “I think it was a memory.”

“Really?” he asked.

“I guess I tried to suppress it because…” you stopped, stiles not needing you to continue.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You stayed silent, Stiles ready to tell you it was already to stay quiet. But you nodded. “I think… I think it might be useful.”

“What do you mean?”

You took a deep breath. “I think it deals with the man that killed Taylor. The man trying to kill me.”

You stirred from your restless sleep, the bed empty beside you. You sat up, seeing the time on the alarm read 2:12 AM. You heard faint talking - more like one-sided yelling - from the living room, the light flooding through the cracks in the door. Sliding out of bed, you grabbed your robe, slipping it on and tying the sash. You crept for the door, opening it slowly.

“I told you to leave!” Taylor yelled.

“You don’t understand-”

The door was slammed shut, Taylor snickering to himself. “It’s happening. Deal with it.”

“What was that all about? Who was that, Tay?” you asked quietly, leaning against the door frame. Taylor glared slightly, brushing past you.

“It was no one. Don’t worry about it.”

“It must have been important if they were here this late. What’s going on Tay-”

A loud slap was placed across your face, your hand shooting up to tend to your swollen cheek. Taylor glared harshly, pushing you aside. “I said it was nothing. Don’t ask again.”

He slid into bed, leaving you to turn off the lights. You sighed, clicking off the lamp. A crash of thunder bellowed outside, lightning flashing through the sky almost right after. You padded towards the window, peering through the curtains of your penthouse condo, the rain hitting your window.

You paused before turning back to your bedroom, spying a man standing on the sidewalk below in the pouring rain. His dark eyes stared up at the window, his form soaked to the bone. You couldn’t make out his features, the man turning and walking swiftly down the street. You left the curtain to fall closed, returning to the cold bed.

Stiles scratched at his chin, the five o’clock shadow already growing. “So, whoever was at the door might be our unsub,” he mumbled more to himself than you. You just nodded in agreement. “But you can’t tell me anything about him?”

“No. I’m sorry. I couldn’t really see him in the dark rain. The door was slammed before I could see him. And I couldn’t quite make out his voice.”

“Right,” Stiles hummed, pondering aloud. Why would someone be coming to a politician’s door late at night, begging for something from the sounds of it. Stiles licked his lips, watching you sip the water again. “Was there anything going on around that time that Taylor was involved in? Like an event going on that he was part of or something he was supporting? Anything you can think of that would drive someone to come to your door in the middle of the night.”

“I’m not sure. I…” you stopped, Stiles’ head picking up.

“What?”

“The Capitol building,” you mumbled. “I remember going to the ribbon cutting with Taylor three months ago.”

“What does that have to do with this?”

“They demolished some old, rundown building that was in the lot they bought. They imploded it I believe. It was something he invested in with a bunch of other politicians. They said it would be better for the community because it would allow people to be closer to their leaders.”

“And Taylor was killed not long after the ribbon cutting,” he muttered in thought. “That might be the key. We just have to figure out more about that old building. And if you’re right, the other politicians involved are the ones getting killed.” Stiles cupped your cheeks, pressing his lips to yours. “You’re so smart. This could be it, Y/N.”

You smiled at him, pressing your lips to his again softly, letting them linger. Though you felt sad. If he figured it out, would that mean this ends?

Stiles typed aggressively at his keyboard, having found himself in the office for the third day in a row. The entire week, he was working on gathering information on the demolishment project to build the Capitol building in its place. And in that time, he had only really come down to one thing: the unsub’s targets were those involved in the project and had invested in it.

He had been trying to figure out who had a connection to the old building that would want to stop the demolishment, but so far, he had come up with nothing. The person that had originally owned the building was long gone, having died peacefully years before the project was even drafted. They had no heirs to inherit the building and that’s how the government got a hold of the property. No one should have been present when the building was taken down, so who would be so against it?

Sighing, Stiles let his head fall against his keyboard noisily, his teammates turning to the disgruntled man. “You ok, Stilinski?” Mark asked, twirling his pen.

“I just can’t piece this together,” he growled lowly in frustration. “This has to be the connection. It makes so much sense. But who would want to stop the building from being destroyed? And why?”

“It could be anyone,” Alice hummed from her seat. “Maybe someone wanted to buy the building for something?”

Mark stood from his seat, hovering over Stiles’ shoulder. “Where is this building exactly?” he asked. Stiles pulled up the map, pointing at the spot. Mark’s eyes narrowed, staring at the screen. “Isn’t that an area where homelessness is relatively high?”

Alice skipped over, nodding. “It is. The local police get called a lot over there. I see the reports come in a lot.”

“Homelessness,” Stiles mumbled. He sat upright quickly, typing away rapidly, his coworkers surprised that he was suddenly up and working as fast as he was. Multiple screens popped up on the computer monitors, Stiles scanning the information quickly before stopping on one article.

“What if the building was housing the homeless people? It was fairly intact when it was imploded so it would reasonably provide shelter for people when they don’t have a place to stay. And the night before the implosion, it was raining. So, people would be driven to find comfortable shelter.” He Stopped talking, turning to his coworkers. “What if they never left?”

“But who would know that?” Mark asked. “Your theory is strong but who would want revenge if no one knew they were there.”

“Someone did,” Stiles said, pointing to the article. “A local food bank was recently shut down, just following the ribbon cutting ceremony of Capitol building. It was less than a block away.”

“If there is a food bank…” Alice started.

“Someone knew they were there,” Stiles finished. “That person probably encouraged them to stay there so they had some form of shelter. Someone that strongly advocated for the government to help the homelessness problem. So, knowing that people were staying in the building because of the rain on top of wanting to end the problem, they approached Taylor to plead to stop the building being torn down.”

“But he didn’t listen,” Mark spoke up, stiles nodding. “The building implosion killed people, didn’t it?”

“It was never reported, but my guess is yes,” Stiles said. “Though there is one article that reports a man claiming that over fifty people were killed in the implosion. He called Taylor out publicly at a press conference regarding the new Capitol building plan. Taylor redacted the claims, saying they were false and he would never kill an innocent person like that. The man was subsequently escorted away for causing a public disturbance. Then the food bank was shut down. He was stopped from helping on top of knowing people were killed. All of that combined was the spark that ignited his rage. He went for the people that caused this. Called him a liar and ruined his life pretty much.”

“And because Y/N was involved with Taylor and present at the ribbon cutting, he might have thought she also backed it,” Alice said. “So, this is the guy we’re looking for! Stiles, you figured it out!”

“What’s the guy’s name? I can call Emily and they can get a warrant,” Mark said, phone already in hand.

“Simon Cable,” Stiles told him. “He owned the food bank.”

Mark walked off to call Emily, Alice patting Stiles on the back. The man sunk back in his seat, a proud look on his face. All his hard work was paying off. He was going to stop the person planning to kill you. He was going to protect you. Though he felt sad, unsure where your relationship would go after this. He wasn’t going to be required to be in your life, but he wanted to be. He really liked you and he hadn’t felt this strong for a girl since he dated Lydia before they agreed to go their separate ways.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, Stiles tugging it out. It was the number of the phone you were given, making him smile. He could share the good news. Swiping the green answer button across the screen, he held the phone to his ear. “Hey-”

“Stiles?”

His brow furrowed, the agent leaning forward against the desk. Your voice was low - a near whisper - and shaky. “Y/N? Are you ok?”

“No,” you cried quietly, Stiles standing up abruptly. His chair tipped back noisily. Alice looked over at him, Spencer finally looking at the spazz.

“Y/N? What’s going on?” Stiles asked frantically.

“I-I think someone’s in the house,” you cried, your voice muffled in your attempt to shield your noises. “I can hear them.”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Under the bed,” you told him. You saw a shadow just outside the door, more tears leaking out. “They’re outside the room. Stiles, I’m scared.”

“Just hold on,” he told you, hastily grabbing his stuff. He strapped his gun holster on, seeing Alice and Spencer grabbing their stuff as well. They had gotten the gist of the phone call, informing Aaron that something was happening. “We’re on our way. Just say quiet. We’re coming right now. Hold tight, baby.”

“Stiles,” you cried. The door opened and you knew it was too late. “Please. Help me, Stiles.”

“Y/N?” he asked hearing the line go silent. He had to check to see if he had gotten disconnected or not, having to focus on your shallow breathing when he saw he was still on the line with you.

The silence was broken by a shrill scream, his heart stopping at the cries he heard.

“STILES!”

“Y/N?!” he called, hearing nothing on the other end. “Y/N, can you hear me? Y/N? Baby! Please!” He got nothing. In frustration, the phone was throw across the room, shattering against the wall with a loud yell. “Fuck!”

“Stilinski!” Aaron said, turning the male to face him. “We can still save her. Where would he take her?”

“I don’t-”

“Think!” Aaron yelled. “Her life is on the line!”

“Either the Capitol building or the closed food bank!” Stiles answered angrily. “He’d want to make a statement because…” he paused. “She’s the last one.”

“We’ll split up then. Stilinski, you and Reed head to the food bank. I will take Hoffman and Cooper to Capitol building. The BAU team is headed to his apartment just in case he would go there,” Aaron said. He held out an FBI vest to Stiles, who looked at it warily. “We save her.”

“Right,” Stiles said, taking the vest. He rushed down the call with Spencer by his side, his teammate speeding down the roads with lights blaring. Stiles tapped drummed his fingers on his knee anxiously, fidgeting with his standard issue FBI bullet proof vest. He stared at the window at the rapidly passing buildings, letting the inertia of the turns affect his body more than it should.

Spencer glanced at the twenty-one-year-old from the corner of his eye, tightening his hold on the wheel. “Stay focused, Stilinski. We’ll save her. You can do this.”

Stiles didn’t reply, only nodding. He was shocked that Spencer was supporting him so much considering he was the first person to give him a hard time every mission. But he knew this wasn’t the time to focus on that. Your life was on the line and he was determined to ensure your safety. He loved you too much to see your corpse lying in a pool of blood somewhere. He pushed back the twinge of fear he had, his prior mistakes in the field bubbling to the surface.

I won’t mess up, he told himself multiple times as they neared the building, decayed and dark from the vacancy, broken windows and door hanging by the hinges from age. He slid from the car, pulling his gun from his holster as he began towards the building, Spencer on his tail. I can’t, for her sake.

The building was musty, mold having grown since being shut down. A single light swayed overhead, flickering and creaking in its left and right motions, barely giving the room a glow and failing to indicate that someone was there. Dust covered the floor and table tops, the wood around the room either graffitied or broken. Spencer nudged the Stilinski man, motioning to the displaced dust trail on the floor, leading to a door in the back of the building. Footsteps lingered in certain spots, telling both men that someone was dragged in recently. Stiles frowned, following the trail towards the door, shifting his weight cautiously to keep the floorboards from creaking. He grimaced to himself when he saw the trail go through some broken glass, spots of blood on them.

His head snapped up at a shrill scream - your scream. He kept himself from darting forward, knowing he could risk your life if he wasn’t cautious in proceeding. He stopped outside the door, bits of light showing through the cracks. He could hear your whimpers and pleas, begging your captor to spare your life. Stiles felt his heart clench, never wanting to hear the pain and fear in your voice again.

Giving a signal to his partner, Stiles pushed through the door, gun raised. “FBI! Hands where I can see them!”

Two bodies spun around, making Stiles and Spencer freeze in the doorway. Simon, with his bloodshot eyes and yellowing teeth, balding hair from yanking at it restless Stiles figured, kept a strong grip around you, your body pressed against his chest. A knife was pressed to your throat, digging into the skin partially, just enough to draw blood. Stiles felt himself growl when he saw the cuts on your legs and arms, bits of glass stuck to your skin from being dragged through it. You had tears leaking down your face, eyes puffy and full of panic. You were utterly terrified about what was happening and the near-death situation you were in. The harder the knife pressed into your neck, the more you whimpered and cried, trembling with dread.

“Stay back!” Simon yelled at the two agents, taking a step back. His step made you stumble back with him, stuck in his tight grasp. “Come any closer and I gut her like she deserves!”

“She didn’t do anything Simon,” Stiles said calmly, his eyes flashing between you and your captor. “She wasn’t involved in the death of those people.”

“She was there,” the man chuckled crazily. “She was with him. She supported that horrible building being built! And because of her and her people, all those innocent people were killed! She deserves it just like everyone else!”

“She wasn’t involved!” Stiles yelled sharply this time. “Yes, she was engaged to Taylor Tucker, but it was a political arrangement. Y/N did what she was supposed to! What she was told to! She didn’t know those people were in the building because of the rain. She didn’t know they were there when the building was imploded. She barely knew about the plan in the first place. So please, just let her go.”

“No. No, no, no,” Simon repeated, shaking his head. “She’s involved with them. She should die like them. She’s just a liar and a killer!”

“Simon, look at her!” Stiles pressed, taking an uneasy step forward. “She’s crying and scared. She’s human, just like you and me. She has her own ambitions and her own goals. She works at a flower shop part time because she believes that flowers have the ability to make people happy.” You would have smiled at him mentioning that, remembering the long talks at night, if you weren’t currently feeling a knife to your neck. “She has her own opinions on what is happening. She is too kind hearted to want to see someone hurt. She just like you and me. How do you know she agrees with them? Do you think she would willingly kill someone for some building?”

“She’s with them,” he mumbled lowly.

“No, she’s not. She was abused and silenced from interjecting her own opinion in situations. This isn’t her fault. If she knew, she would have tried to stop him. Please, Simon. I know you’ve been through hard times. You’ve been unable to help so many people because this place - your home - was shut down by the government. And what happened to those people was horrendous, but to be overlooked and essentially laughed at by Taylor was worse. He cast off their lives like it was nothing. That isn’t right. But that’s not Y/N’s fault. She didn’t know. So please, no one has to get hurt. Just let her go.”

Simon seemed to hesitate for a moment before stepping back. “No! She needs to be stopped! All politicians need to be stopped! The people who associate with them need to be silenced forever! They are not good for us! They will run us into the ground for their benefit! I will stop her before that happens again!”

Simon pulled the knife from your neck, preparing to plunge it into your stomach to gut you like a fish. Your eyes closed, preparing for the worst - for the pain that was inevitable. But a shot rang through the air, striking your eardrums and making your head hurt. Splatters of something hit your face, the weight of the body behind you disappearing. You stumbled with your newfound freedom, hearing a clatter before two strong arms wrapped you in familiar warmth.

“You’re ok,” stiles whispered to you, one arm around your waist while the other wrapped protectively around your head, weaving through your tangled hair. Your body shook with happy sobs, sinking into the agent’s hold. You both sunk to the ground, Stiles holding you gently yet firmly to make sure you were safe. You turned slightly in his grasp to see the blank lifeless eyes of Simon staring at you, a bleeding hole in the middle of his forehead. Stiles tilted your head away from the scene, making you look up at his face. “Don’t look at that. You’re safe now. He won’t hurt you again.”

“Stiles,” you cried. His cheeks rubbed at your cheeks, smearing whatever splattered substance was there across your skin slightly. When he pulled away slightly, you saw the crimson red color that stained the pads of his fingers. Blood. Simon’s blood. That broke you, your body wracked with heavy sobs and falling into him.

Spencer walked over to Simon’s body, checking his pulse. Stiles watched him, knowing that Simon was dead. He was dead by his hands. He had killed another person, something he hadn’t done since high school. He had aimed his shot perfectly, the bullet from his gun buried deep in the skull of his target. He hadn’t messed up. He had saved you at the cost of someone’s life.

It was bittersweet.

“Aaron is on the way with paramedics,” Spencer said to his fellow agent. “Let’s get her outside. She needs to get those cuts checked out.”

Stiles nodded, carefully leading you outside and away from the bloody scene in the abandoned building. You were left in the hands of the paramedics, letting them patch you up. Stiles wandered away, keeping himself in sight just in case you had a breakdown without him there. You were reluctant to let him go, pleading with him to stay, but he had ensured you he wouldn’t be far so he was determined to keep that promise.

“Nice work, Stilinski,” Aaron said, clapping his hand on the man’s shoulder. “You were able to figure out the connection and save your client.”

“But at the cost of Simon’s life,” Stiles mumbled sadly.

“You can’t save everyone, Stiles,” Aaron told him.

“I can always try,” Stiles sighed. “No one deserves to die.”

“That’s true. But remember, you tried to stop him. Sometimes, people are too far gone to be saved. And what’s more important is that you saved her.”

Stiles turned to you, watching the paramedic wrap a bandage around a cut on your arm. He smiled slightly, glancing at the ground. “Yeah, I did.”

“You did well,” Aaron said, smiling a rare smile. “I can’t wait to see what else you can do.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Also, make sure this is what you want and be ready for a lot of hardships.” Stiles gave his boss a confused look. “I told you not to get close to her. But you did.”

“I-”

“I understand,” Aaron told him, silencing the agent. “Even when you try, you can’t. But it’ll come with consequences you need to be ready for if you aren’t careful.”

“What do you mean?”

“I met my wife through the job,” Aaron confessed. “She was a witness and we hit it off. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close considering I was there to work, but she was the one. But because of my ignorance, she was killed. A suspect got away and killed her outside our home as a message for me. She never held it against me. I know she didn’t. She always said it was worth the risk. But I can’t stop blaming myself for that. And I don’t want to see you go through that as well.”

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Stiles said, looking at the ground.

“It’s fine. Just… be smart. And care for that girl. She will need you after what she’s been through.” Aaron pat Stiles on the shoulder again, leading him back towards you. Stiles’ brow furrowed at the man by your side, talking to you. Your father, he assumed. “Mr. Mayor.”

The man turned to the agents, shaking Aaron’s hand. “You saved my daughter. How could I thank you enough?”

“Thank this young man,” Aaron said, shoving Stiles forward. “He was the one to piece together the information to figure out who was after her. And he shot the unsub to save her.”

“My name is Stiles-” he stopped, gnawing on his lip. “Mieczyslaw Stilinski. I was assigned to protect your daughter.”

The mayor’s eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to protect her?” he asked, grabbing Stiles by the collar. “You let her get kidnapped!”

“Daddy, please!” you jumped up, taking his hand. “Stiles saved me! He did so much to rescue me! I’m alive because he found me! Please, stop!”

The mayor growled, dropping Stiles. He turned to you, taking you by the wrist. “Let’s go, sweetie. It’s time to go home.”

“No!” you fought, ripping your hand from his grip. He looked back at you, slightly appalled. “I-I want to stay with Stiles. Please. I-I’d feel safer that way.”

“I don’t think-”

“Please!” you cried. “I-I want to be with Stiles.”

The major eyed you closely, nodding once. “Fine.” He looked at Stiles, his look making the agent’s blood run cold. “If you hurt her, I will have you eliminated.”

“Daddy…”

“Y-yes, sir,” Stiles choked. “I would never hurt her, sir. I…” Stiles choked on the words, unsure if he wanted to say the ‘L’ word just yet. “I like her way too much to see her hurt again. I just want to see her beautiful smile day in and day out.”

You smiled, your father nodding. The mayor watched you slide over to Stiles, Stiles’ lanky arms wrapping tightly around you as he whispered soothing things to you. He could see the way your eyes lit up at the man, the agent’s honey eyes equally as bright and making you melt. The mayor couldn’t deny that you were happy and in love with this man.

Stiles escorted you to a car, opening the back door for you to slide in. Before he could get in the car himself, Spencer stopped him. “Stilinski!” he had called. “Nice shot. Keep that up and you’ll go far.”

Stiles smiled, a giddy feeling in his gut to be acknowledged like he was after his screw ups in the past. “Thanks, man.” Spencer nodded at him, heading towards the rest of the team.

Things were looking up for Stiles Stilinski.

Stiles took you to his small apartment, opening the door for you. You glanced around the place while he locked the door behind you both. “It’s not much,” he said, licking his lips. “But it’s home.”

“I love it,” you told him. Stiles smiled at you, inching closer to you. He cupped your cheek, tracing the remnants of blood on your skin.

“If you want, you can shower. Clean up a little,” he offered.

“That’d be nice,” you told him.

“Alright.” Stiles led you to his small bathroom in his bedroom, blushing slightly when you passed the mess around his room. “Towels are in the cabinet. I will grab you some clothes for the night.”

You grabbed his shirt before he could turn to leave, tugging him back. “Don’t leave me please.”

“Y/N,” he muttered, looking back at you.

“Please. I don’t want to be alone,” you told him, avoiding his eyes. “What if you showered with me?”

Stiles tilted your head up, seeing the unease in your eyes. You were jittery and on edge and the last thing you wanted was to be alone. So, he smiled, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulders. Your head turned away from his, staring at his bare chest, fingers running along every inch and curve it had. His pecs flexed at your touch, the man watching you silently. He placed a light kiss to your forehead, turning to turn on the water with you still in his arms.

The water began heating while he stripped you slowly, giving you a tender kiss that you happily received between each article of clothing that hit the floor. You were fully naked before him, Stiles waiting until the last second to drop his boxer briefs to reveal the semi-hard cock he was sporting. He gave you butt a small pat as he helped you into the shower, crawl in after you and shutting the blue and orange curtain.

He held you close, letting your wet form snuggle into his chest for comfort. Stiles just stayed silent, running his hand along your spine, allowing the hot water to cascade over your forms and wash any traces of blood away. He carefully peeled off each bandage, dropping the wet gauze on the floor outside the tub without letting you go.

He gently lathered shampoo in your hair, scratching his nails against your scalp soothingly. You sighed against his chest in relief. Your breasts rubbed against him as he tilted your head back to wash out the soap, the sweet ocean fragrance he used waft through the air. Stiles fought back his erection as best he could, biting at his lip and trying to will his cock into submission.

“You’re hard,” you pointed out jokingly.

He had failed.

“It’s kind of hard not to be when you have a beautiful girl in the shower with you,” he quipped. You grinned, kissing his lips softly. Stiles sighed into the connection, hugging you close. Your lips parted without him asking, letting him roam your mouth with his tongue.

There you both stood, under the water, kissing passionately, letting the stress and worries about almost dying wash away with the suds at your feet. His hands carefully caressed your body, kneading your breasts in the palms of his hands. Your hand slithered between your bodies, stroking his shaft slowly, feeling it pulse and twitch at your simple touch. The low smacking of his lips pulling away from yours to breath in the steamy shower hair overtook the running water, echoing off the bathroom walls.

You pulled away from him, leaving a few lingering kisses to his jaw and chest before he spun your around, pushing you against the wall. His lips brushed you tauntingly, sliding down your body. His tongue lapped at your perky nipples, tugging them with his lips in light kisses. You mewled quietly, scratching at his scalp and tugging at his flat, wet hair.

Stiles sunk to his knees, holding you up by keeping a hand on your waist, draping one of your legs over his shoulder. His tongue slid through your folds, dipping into your core with a slick slurp of your juices. Your head pressed back against the cold shower wall, relishing in the bliss and pleasure he was giving you. You moaned his name loudly, drawing out the final ‘S’ in it. This prompted him to lick longer and faster, swirling it in circles inside you. He pulled away occasionally to trace indistinguishable shapes to your clit, your pleasure spiking when he did.

When he felt you starting to shake, he pulled away, standing to face you. He cupped your cheeks, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy connection. Mid kiss, he lifted you from the tub floor, your legs wrapping around his waist. His throbbing shaft stuck straight up between your bodies, rubbing through your folds with each roll of his hips he did.

“Please,” you whispered, breaking the kiss. “Please, Stiles.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, cracking his eyes to look at you. Your eyes were glued shut, but you nodded without hesitation. “Alright. If it gets to be too much, tell me to stop.”

He pulled away just enough to slip inside you, stilling when he was hilt deep. You moaned, burying into his neck. Stiles let out a vibrating grunt, keeping his hands on your thighs as he thrust into you. The tip of his cock gravitated towards your sweet spot, determined to make you feel wonderful. And it was working based on your moans and nips at his neck. The harder and faster he pushed, he louder your moans got, despite being muffled.

You were breaking quickly. From his earlier actions, you were already on edge, so feeling him fill you completely enhanced the feelings tenfold. His shaft was slick with water from the shower and juices inside you, allowing him to pound you with ease. Sometimes, he would lift his hand from your thigh long enough to flick your clit playfully, driving you closer to the peak rapidly. Each thrust rubbed at your sensitive walls, Stiles biting his lip every time he felt them contract around him.

You snapped in mere seconds, Stiles barely able to prepare himself for it. You bit at his neck to keep quiet, marks surely to show later. Your toes curled into his spine, your nails clawed at his back and hair, head thrown back with a loud moan. Your walls hugged him completely, coating his member in layers of juices from your orgasm. Your stomach tightened, the knot disintegrating in a sea of fire.

Stiles didn’t drop you when you were done. His cock still yearned for more; he still yearned for more. He sat inside you, rock hard and pulsing, turning to turn off the water. The agent was able to climb out of the tub without a problem, not slipping for sliding with clumsiness. You were carried to his bedroom, Stiles grabbing a towel to drape on his sheets to keep them somewhat dry.

You were dropped to the bed, Stiles leaving you vacant and empty. He proceeded to climb on the bed after you, but you stopped him before he could straddle you. You rolled atop him, Stiles giving an amused look. “Well, this is familiar.”

“That it is,” you laughed, kissing him quickly. You disappeared from his vision, sliding down his down in one fell swoop, wrapping your lips around him. Stiles didn’t even have a chance to look down at you before his head was pressed to the bed, pushing his hair back. You didn’t care that he was still covered in your juices or that his taste was now a mixture of you both, giving it a different taste than you were used to when it came to giving blowjobs. He had the sweetly salty taste, the taste of yourself on him giving an extra twinge to it.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned loudly. You bobbed along his shaft quickly, running your tongue along every inch of him. It smoothed over the slit in the tip and traced along the throbbing vein on the underside of his length. Your hand played with his balls, nearly gagging on him when he hit the back of your throat of your own volition.

He pulled you away before you could make him cum, rolling you onto your back. He was inside you instantly, his lips silencing your loud moan. Your legs wrapped around him, his hips rocking against yours slowly at first. The slow motion didn’t last very long, speeding up until he was pistoning into you, slamming you into the bed. Your hands were linked with his, extending above your head while he pleased you. His tip constant hit your g-spot, making your back arch with pleasure.

“Stiles,” you moaned, the man above you kissing you as a response. You wiggled under him, pressing yourself into him completely. Your sweaty bodies were flush against one another, alternating between sticking together and slapping noisily with the rapid thrusts. Your legs were slick with arousal, Stiles’ shaft coated in the substance whenever he pulled out of you. Your hips clapped together, his balls adding to the noise when it hit your behind.

He didn’t bother to stop when he rolled you onto your sides, keeping your leg draped over his hips. His thrusts were just as powerful as before, shoving himself into you as fast as possible. His lips dusted your before moving down your body. Kissing at your chest, the agent moaned in satisfaction, savoring the taste and smell you emitted. He used one hand to fondle the other breast, tweaking the nipple between his fingers and massaging the round mounds happily. His lips attacked the nipple, his love for your chest becoming blatantly apparent.

Your hand traveled up his chest, wanting to feel every inch of him that wasn’t deep inside your wet pussy, pounding away at your delicate walls and sweet spots. He was reaching far inside, the angle of his thrusts making the pleasure the best you had ever felt. The pads of your thumbs brushed against his own taut nipples, a shiver running up his spine He pulled from your chest with a low pop, moving to look at you directly.

“Don’t do that,” he huffed.

“Why? Sensitive?” you mused, kissing him sweetly. You brushed them again, tracing the moles that scattered around them. Stiles shuttered against, taking your hands off his chest.

“Yes. So please stop and let me treat you like the wonderful women you are. Like you’ve always been meant to be treated,” he whispered. “You deserve the world. And in that world, I will give you mind blowing orgasms that have you screaming my name for days.”

“What are you going to do in this world?” you asked. Stiles smirked, licking his lips.

“I will fuck you in any way you like, in every position and every location you want. I will have you cumming all over my cock, my fingers, and my tongue so I never forget your taste and you never forget me. I will show you have beautiful you are, how amazing you are. I will fuck you every day in this very bed as long as I know you are happy with me. I will run your bubble baths, fingering you until the bubbles are mixed with your sweet juices. I will make you pancakes, eating you out while I do. We will take long walks on the beach, rolling around together in the sand. As long as I’m here, I will make sure you are safe, cared for, and happy. I will show you that you are the most amazing women in the world.” He kissed you lightly, listening to your labored breathing that match his own. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you managed to mutter, your eyes fluttering closed. Black dots and colorful stars shown in your vision, your head burying in his collarbone. Stiles’ head buried in your hair, both of you peaking at the same time.

His sloppy thrusts slowed with the burst of his orgasm, longs strings of his seed spilling into you. His twitching cock from his release hit a nerve inside you, the knot ripped to shreds. You juices splattered to your walls, coating his length. Both sets of liquid mixed together, heating your body in a welcoming warmth. Your walls milked every drop of him, Stiles’ slow thrusts easing you both through your peak.

He pulled out when you relaxed against him, using the towel under your bodies to dry you completely and clean you of any slick substance that stuck to your skin. It was dropped to the carpet beside the bed, Stiles pulling the blankets to cover you. You curled into his side, already falling fast asleep in his presence. He was warm and welcome and he felt like home. You were comfortable and, for the first time in months, you felt safe in the man’s arms.

“By the way,” you muttered into him. “I meant to ask. What happened to your toe?”

Stiles laughed, looking down at the missing pinky toe on his exposed foot, his feet sticking out from the end of the blanket. “Long story for another time, baby.”

“You better tell me then,” you yawned.

Stiles ran his fingers through your hair, watching you fall asleep. He smiled to himself, hugging your body close. You had a smile on your lips, making him even more elated than he already was. You were safe and he wasn’t letting that change again anytime soon.

“I will protect you forever,” he told your sleeping form, letting his eyes close.

Sure, it was just the early evening, but after everything that had happened, you both deserved a rest. And for you, it was a rest in the arms of your protector.

Errthang Tag 2.0: @catcrown21; @parislight; @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone; @savage-stilinski; @honeymoonmuke; @rumoured-whispers; @youshiverwhenyouhearmyname; @caitsymichelle13; @addicttotw; @fox-lau; @addicttotw; @kaelyn-lobrutto24; @lobrien; @kal-pal; @espermirror; @xmadwonderland; @nowthisiswaar; @belleknows; @ashpie97; @mixedupsammy; @dylobrienlover; @newtosaur250; @bandsweyhey; @offthewallspidey; @livinginadreamersparadise; @tommyswolves; @lietomeat3am; @bilesbilinskix; @danathewitchywoman; @thisismexxo; @you-all-have-guns; @soulaura-canavel; @bojabee; @obrienswxlf; @feelingsareharddd; @xoitsjustmexo; @supernaturaltakeover; @suggsmate; @cassiee867; @malia--stilinski; @barryallenplease; @flirtstiles; @bottleoffirewhisky; @jadalecki-jackles; @evansesdust; @everythingthatisrandom; @puppiesarehappiness; @ixlovexpeterxparker; @onlyalittleteenwolfobsessed; @tenseoyong; @jadav5; @mischiefandi; @myrandomzshit; @disbestiles; @mxtchsbxtch; @dafine18; @avadakedabitch; @girlwiththerubyslippers; @xpinkyprincess; @ssweet-empowerment; @jackles-jadalecki; @dobseventeen

Want to be tagged? Send as ask! - Bold accounts are ones I cannot tag.

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