#emswc

[duskholland]

More Than This (Stiles Stilinski soulmate imagine)

Summary: a soulmate AU in which you can talk with your soulmate through a link in your minds. Based off the prompt ‘this is yours’.

Word count: 8.1k 

Warnings: just the odd curse here and there!

A/N: I rewrote this prompt three times and I’ve finally come out with something I like! The soulmate AU isn’t something I’ve tackled in this fandom and it’s always been a favourite of mine so I reckoned it was about time...I hope you enjoy it! :) Pls don’t let it flop.

For @fillthevoid-stilinski ‘s writing challenge!! <3

Age 16.

“Has it happened yet?”

Glaring at your best friend, you shook your head. “I don’t think it’s something that happens all of a sudden, Amber. Besides, he might not be sixteen yet,” you said, lips twitching as you watched her bounce up and down on your bed. It was the morning of your sixteenth birthday and she’d woken you up at the crack of dawn, demanding to know if it’d happened - if you’d got it.

“You never know,” she pointed out. “They could start speaking any second.”

Nodding hopefully, you layed back on your bed and closed your eyes. “I guess I just need to wait.”

Amber mirrored your actions, laying down beside you. “Tell me the moment you hear something.”

“If I hear anything,” you clarified, nodding nevertheless. “Will do.”

For as long as the earth had turned, soulmates had existed. Although there were many connections one shared with their soulmate, there was one fundamental link that could never be turned off - a communication bond. Once sixteen, the tradition was to grow a mental connection with your soulmate in which it was possible to communicate with one another.

Of course, the universe couldn’t make it that easy for you. Your soulmate always had their voice muffled somehow so you never truly knew how they sounded. There were also pieces of information that couldn’t be passed along the link. If you tried to tell them where you lived or where they could find you, they’d hear nothing but blank noise.

To many, the mind link was only a curse. It could be torturous to be so close to your soulmate but have no real way of coming into contact with them, having to rely on fate to bring you together.

To you, however, it was exciting. You were practically bouncing off the walls! Most of the people around you had found their soulmates and never failed to tell you how incredible it’d been to hear their voice for the first time - you were ready to have a similar story. Despite knowing that your soulmate may not yet be sixteen, you were feeling incredibly optimistic that the link would open any minute.

“Y/N,” Amber whined, a few minutes later. “Have you got anything yet?”

Biting your lip, you shook your head. “No, I’ll let you know if I-”

“Hi? Anyone...um, there?”

“-oh my god!” You exclaimed, sitting straight up, eyes wide. “That was a voice! A voice,” you repeated, pointing at your forehead. “Amber, there was a voice in my head.”

“Oh my god,” she mirrored, reaching out to grab your arm. “Say something back!”

“Uh,” you said, “how do I do that?” When Amber rolled her eyes, you threw your hands in the air. “I’m freaking out!” you excused, heart beating a thousand miles an hour. Despite reading many accounts of it, you hadn’t expected his voice to sound so near.

“Concentrate on a distant person. Close your eyes and imagine you’re talking to them - just like you would if you were talking to yourself,” she explained, repeating the words that’d been printed in a textbook.

“Okay,” you responded, closing your eyes.

After briefly composing yourself, you tried it. “Hi?” You called out, no words leaving your mouth.

For a moment you were afraid you’d done it wrong but were pleasantly surprised when a voice came back. “Oh my god, I can hear you!” He exclaimed, sounding as excited as you felt. “This is so weird.”

“So weird,” you agreed. “I’m Y/N,” you introduced, knowing better than to attempt to tell him where you lived.

“Stiles,” he answered, causing you to relay the information back to Amber.

“That’s an unusual name,” you said, not really sure what to say to him. It was incredibly weird to have someone else’s voice rattling around your head.

“It’s just a nickname. My real one’s Polish and people tend to mess up the pronunciation.”

“I like it,” you replied honestly. “Have you been waiting long for the link to open up?” You asked, curious. It was the tradition that, if your sixteenth passed and no voice was heard, you’d try to reach out through the link each day for your soulmate. They’d turn up eventually - normally most soulmates were around the same age.

“Only a few weeks, thank god,” he began. “I was getting kinda scared you’d never show up,” he admitted, suddenly sounding a little bashful.

You were about to reply when Amber climbed off your bed, reaching out to pat your shoulder. “I’m going downstairs. You keep smiling and I feel like I’m interrupting your special moment,” she whispered. Nodding, you waved her off, laying back on your back and grabbing a pillow to clench your excited fists around.

“Well, I’m here now,” you replied, voice soft, “you’ll probably get fed up with me talking in your head, though, just warning you in advance.”

You heard him laugh, and although you knew the link distorted his real voice, you found the light sound very pleasant to listen to. “I won’t get fed up with you. Promise. If anything, you’ll get annoyed up with me.”

Shaking your head, you smiled into the empty room. “Doubt it. I’m so excited to get to know you, Stiles. So excited.”

When he responded less than five seconds later, you were forced to rub at your mouth, muscles aching from all the grinning.

“Me too, Y/N,” he said, voice honest, “me too…”

Age 17.

“Will you stop freaking out?” Stiles’ voice chimed through your head, giving you the fright of your life.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, surprised. “Stop scaring me like that,” you scolded, sighing. “Anyway - you can’t tell how I’m feeling,” you pointed out, rubbing at your temples, “and besides, I’m not freaking out.”

“Yes. You are,” Stiles disagreed. “I might not be able to feel your emotions, but I know you and I know you’re undoubtedly freaking out over tonight.”

Annoyed at the way your lips twitched into a smile at his explanation, you shook your head. “Prom seems so stupid,” you began, reaching down to pull your dress off the bed, “especially when you’ve gone through all these exams and tests. They build it up to be such a big thing.”

“I guess it is a big thing,” Stiles offered, “you get to go and have some fun with your friends?”

“Nah,” you decided, beginning to change into your dress. “It was created for the fashion industry to earn money off broke students and make all the kids stressed over finding dates.”

Stiles let out a laugh. “That’s definitely true,” he agreed. “Do you...Are you going with anyone?” He broached, voice unbelievably light. You narrowed your eyebrows, biting your bottom lip.

“No,” you replied, “I didn’t really...I didn’t want to go with anyone.” Although you weren’t together with Stiles, a part of you would feel bad for taking a date, almost as though you were cheating on him. It wasn’t a rule that you weren’t allowed to go out with someone other than your soulmate, but you just had no desire to. “Are you going with anyone for yours?” You followed up, a surprising wave of jealousy sweeping across you.

“No,” Stiles said, voice sounding a little happier. “Like you, I just...I don’t want to go with anyone else.” A beat of silence followed before his voice came back, frantic, “n-not that you said that. I know you didn’t say that, I just...I want to go to prom with you. And, and I know that’s not possible, but, I don’t know,” he broke off, and you could tell he was beating himself up, “it just...it feels wrong to go with someone else.”

Now in your dress, you sat by a mirror and began to style your hair. “Stiles,” you began, trying to pretend your heart wasn’t trying to rip free of your chest, “I do feel the same. A few people asked me but I’d feel weird going without you.”

You’d never really discussed your relationship with Stiles with him. It was clear that there was something there - you didn’t talk to someone you were perfect for every day and there be no spark - but you’d never actually admitted your feelings. Instead, you both simply went about your daily life, talking whenever you could and - on your part, at least - falling in love with every passing moment.

“I wish I could be there with you,” he admitted. “Oh my god, I’m so glad Scott can’t hear what I’m saying because he’d say I’ve gone soft, but,” Stiles broke off for a moment, and you found yourself waiting with baited breath. “I like you a lot. Like, really...a lot.”

Pushing down a lump in the back of your throat, you finished fixing your hair and stood up, checking your phone to see a text from Amber telling you she was just a few minutes away.

“Stiles, I, uh,” you tried, never having been one to find confessing feelings easy, “I like you too - a lot.”

You heard a knock at your door. “I do need to go, though. That’s Amber, we said we’d finish getting ready together. Talk later?”

“Yeah,” Stiles replied. There was a limit to how much you could convey through the link, but you could almost sense the love in his voice. “Have a good night. I’m here if you need anyone.”

“Thanks, S.”

“Anytime.”

Age 18.

“Y/N, I’m not trying to start anything, I’m just saying that I miss you!” Stiles’ frustrated voice exclaimed, words ringing in your ears.

You groaned, resting your forehead on your kitchen table. “No, you’re not. You’re having a go at me for something completely out of my control!” You complained, aware you were coming across angry. You were angry.

When you’d moved to college six months prior, you’d tried your best to keep in touch with Stiles. It could be assumed that being so close to one another - the communication link could never be shut down, after all - it’d be easy to stay close. You’d found it harder than expected to keep in touch with Stiles, though, and your relationship had suffered considerably.

“Stop yelling at me!” He exclaimed, causing you to wince at the volume of his voice. “We’re drifting apart, Y/N, why can’t you see that?”

“I do, I do see that.”

“Then why don’t you care?” You sucked in a breath when you heard the hurt in his voice, felt the pain his words carried. “How are you….how can you just be okay with this? We went from talking hours every day to barely speaking. This is destroying me, but you don’t seem to care. I don’t understand.”

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you began to see just how much you’d messed up. Whilst you hadn’t deliberately gone out of your way to ignore him, you’d admit that you’d sometimes heard his voice in your head and pretended to miss it or made an excuse and said you were busy. This was normally because you were out with friends or busy studying - your new college life had been the thing to come between you and Stiles.

“I care. I do, Stiles, I care, I just-”

“Don’t bother,” Stiles interrupted, so completely out of character that you found your words dying in the back of your throat. “I’m done listening to your excuses. I’m sorry I even tried.”

“No, Stiles, c’mon,” you begged, hot tears prickling your eyes. “Please, I’m sorry. I can change, I’ll try harder. I- I don’t want this to ruin things between us.”

“It already has,” came his response, biting cold.

Swallowing, you brushed at your moistened cheeks. “It hasn’t. Things can always be fixed, you know that-”

“I want to be alone right now,” he said bluntly. “Please, don’t talk to me.”

“Okay,” you gave in, knowing better than to prod a bear with a stick. “I’ll give you time.”

It was a few days later that you heard his voice again.

“Y/N,” Stiles spoke, voice drawing out the syllables. “Y/N, are you there?”

Jerking up, you blinked quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here,” you responded immediately. 

The past days had been torture. Knowing you’d hurt Stiles - one of your closest friends, someone you held so tender feelings for - had been horrible for you to live with. You felt like a horrible friend, horrible person and above all, a horrible soulmate.

“We need to talk,” he murmured. You realised his voice was slurred and came to the startling realisation that he was drunk.

“Are you sure we should do this right now? You sound a little...intoxicated.” Whilst you didn’t want to offend him, you also didn’t want him to say anything he could come to regret.

“Yes,” he responded firmly. “Now.”

“Okay then,” you replied, growing nervous. “What’s on your mind?”

“We need to stop this,” he began, voice too carefree for you to believe his words. “Do that thing where we just stop talking. Find new people. Fall in love with people we can see, not shitty voices that disappear when you need them.”

Swallowing, you tried to process his words. “What? No, Stiles. That’s a terrible idea. You...You can’t believe that.”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, no hint of regret or reluctance in his voice. “I can’t do it anymore. I need more than this, Y/N, I need...I need…”

“More than me,” you supplied. You could feel your heart breaking into pieces and were desperate to say anything to change his mind. “You’re drunk. Please, go have some water and sleep it off. We can talk in the morning.”

“I’m not that drunk,” he countered. “The only reason I drank was to have enough courage to tell you this. This setup isn’t enough for me - I can’t go through life missing out on experiences and people and love whilst you don’t care. And I don’t want to hear it if you disagree - you don’t care enough and I know it. You need to stop talking to me.”

Voice cracking, you tried to plead. “Stiles, no.” You didn’t know if it was possible for him to hear you crying but had an idea that he might. “This isn’t right. You can’t want this.”

“I want it. I’m sorry we had to end this way, but there’s no other option. Please, don’t try to contact me again.”

The link fell dark.

In the morning when you tried to reach him, you only found him ignoring you. You tried again, every day for two months, getting the same each time. Stiles didn’t answer. He’d given up.

You knew your life would never be the same again.

Age 19.

“Y/N, you need to pull yourself out of this rut.”

You blinked, the words of your best friend taking a few seconds to sink in. “Huh?” You asked, looking at Amber through half-closed eyes.

She’d dragged you to a café, reasoning that you’d stayed cooped up at home for too long. It’d been half a year since you’d last heard from Stiles - it was time to move on, she’d said.

“Stiles isn’t coming back,” she tried, voice gentle. Despite the tenderness to her words, each sound felt like a shot in the back. “I’m sorry it happened but I can’t watch you throw your life away any longer. You need to move on.”

“I can’t just move on!” You spat, suddenly angry. Amber held up her hands defensively, causing you to sigh and sit back. “I’m sorry,” you apologised, regretting your outburst. “He’s the love of my life,” you tried to explain, “you’ve met yours - you know what it’s like. I can’t just go through life knowing he’s so close when I can’t be with him.”

Amber nodded sadly. “You can. People do it all the time. Things don’t work out with their soulmates for whatever reason, and they try again with other people. You could sign up for one of those clubs, umm…” She broke off, biting her lip as she tried to recall the details, “I saw a poster for one the other day! It’s for single people. It’s like a massive club but you all go and meet up and make friends. You should try it- please try it.”

Squinting your eyes suspiciously, you tried to shake your head. “I don’t think that’s my kind of thing.” Quite frankly, attending a singles mixer was at the bottom of your to-do list. Your heart felt irreversibly broken - there was no way you could even begin to consider finding someone new.

“One meeting,” she urged. “One meeting is all I’m asking.”

Knowing your friend and recognising her stubborn streak, you begrudgingly agreed. “Fine. Text me the details and I’ll go to one. Only one, though.”

Grinning triumphantly, Amber reached out to squeeze your arm. “Thank you, Y/N. I hope it helps you.”

“Me too.”

You’d only been at the singles mixer for ten minutes but you already hated it. So far you’d seen no one your age and were ready to throw in the towel and go home.

As you ordered a drink at the bar, you saw someone slip into a stool beside you. From the corner of your eye, you managed to deduce that she was around your age and seemed equally frustrated as she sighed before leaning over to rest her forehead on the bar.

“Tough day?” You asked, smiling in what you hoped was an approachable manner. The woman looked up, brown eyes speaking volumes of sadness and frustration.

Raking a hand through her brown hair, she nodded. “Horrible. My friend forced me to come to this place but it’s been fifteen minutes and I’ve only been hit on by old men. This isn’t doing what I’d hoped it’d do.”

“Neither,” you said, surprised to find yourself in a similar situation. “I’m not ready to think about other people but my friend forced me here too.”

The woman smiled softly. “How long has it been?” She asked, and you knew exactly what she was referring to.

“He stopped talking about half a year ago,” you admitted, taking a deep swig of your drink to wash away the lump in your throat. “You?”

“About the same. Came completely out of nowhere. We knew each other, too,” she explained, throwing back her drink. “Completely out of the blue.”

Biting your bottom lip, you held out a hand. Something told you that you’d become friends with her. “I’m Y/N.”

Smiling ever so slightly, she returned your grip. “Allison.”

Age 21.

“Y/N, c’mon! I need you at my wedding!” Allison pleaded, voice cracking down the line. You were at the airport, gazing up at your gate. Your flight had just been called but you were having last-minute doubts.

“I don’t know, Alli,” you began, anxiously playing with your fingers. “No one knows me. What if I don’t get on with them?”

“Y/N,” she said, voice flat. “No offence, but this is my wedding. It’s about me, not you. I want you there, and Scott wants you there too. Sure, no one knows you, but they’ll welcome you with open arms. Please, don’t leave me hanging.”

Allison and Scott had got back together a few months after you met her at the singles club. Although you’d never met the man, you got the impression that they both made each other extremely happy, and despite feeling an initial spark of jealousy when she’d told you of their reunion, you were so happy that they’d finally decided to tie the knot. In spite of being a young couple, you knew they’d last - they were perfect for each another.

“Okay,” you breathed out, beginning to walk towards your gate. “I’ll be there.” “Thank god,” she exclaimed. After exchanging a few parting words, you hung up and got on the flight. Allison and Scott had decided on a destination wedding, meaning you got to escape college for the Bahamas for a few days.

Arriving at the hotel a few hours later, you were quick to make a beeline for your room. Allison had booked you a double, her reasoning being that you could bring a plus one if you so wished. You knew it was a kind offer, but it just made everything hurt more.

It’d been a year and a half since Stiles had gone dark. There had been other people, but none of them worked for more than a few months. They’d been nice, sure, but none of them had managed to patch the Stiles-shaped hole fixed firmly over your heart.

After taking a short nap, you changed into a light dress and began to make your way down to one of the hotel’s restaurants. Allison had promised to introduce you to her friends ahead of the wedding rehearsals tomorrow, and if you were honest, you were feeling extremely nervous.

As you entered the hotel lobby, fretting over the looming encounter, you weren’t looking where you were going and managed to walk straight into something. Letting out a small noise of surprise, you saw the stranger’s clipboard fall to your feet.

Bending down, you picked it up and passed it over. “This is yours,” you said, sucking in a breath when you met the stranger’s eyes. An arch of warmth seemed to spread down your back at the contact, the deep shades of amber held within his eyes igniting a fire inside your heart. Something...Something was happening.

“Th-Thank you,” he replied, accepting the board shakily. He had his eyes fixed firmly on yours, and you watched as he tilted his head to the side. “I’m…” He trailed off, eyes losing focus for a brief second. “I’m Stiles.”

Stiles. Stiles. You found yourself freezing. It couldn’t be...could it?

“Stiles?” You repeated, name foreign on your tongue. You hadn’t spoken of him in months - had never even mentioned his name to Allison. It felt weird to use it to address someone, especially a stranger that made you feel more alive than you had for years.

“Well, that’s just a nickname. My real one’s Polish but people tend to mess up the pronunciation.”

Suddenly, you felt your throat close. It was him - it had to be him.

“Mieczyslaw,” you uttered. If this was Stiles - your Stiles - he’d told you his real name after you’d spent hours trying to guess it.

Stiles froze. “Who are you?” He asked, eyes narrowing. You took a few steps back, not sure which emotions were beginning to overtake you, but knowing that you needed to leave before you did something regrettable.

Before you could answer, or run, Allison appeared around the corner. She clapped her hands together, giddily skipping over to you. “Oh, Y/N! You met Stiles, I see!” She said, throwing an arm around you affectionately.

“Y/N?” Stiles breathed out, voice weak. Then, stronger, “Y/N?!”

Allison looked between you both. “What’s going on?”

You couldn’t do anything but shake your head. “I can’t do this,” you said, both to her and to Stiles. He hadn’t taken his eyes off you, and his stare was starting to leave fiery trails over your face. “I’m sorry- I, I’ll see you tomorrow,” you addressed Allison. After shrugging off her arm, you turned and began to speed walk away.

“Wait, Y/N!” She called out, causing you to spin around and shake your head.

“I’m sorry.”

And then you were in the elevator, doors sliding shut, Stiles’ stare on your retreating figure being well and truly cut off.

It wasn’t until you were back in your hotel room, crying into a pillow, that you heard the voice you’d wished would appear for months.

“Y/N...Was that you?”

If you’d had any doubts, they evaporated the moment you heard his voice. Matching with tradition - now you’d met your soulmate, his voice was no longer disguised. Stiles’ matched the man you’d met in the lobby; you had met your soulmate.

Biting on your lip, you thought of a response. You were angry. You were so, so unbelievably angry. He’d abandoned you for a year and a half - would have left it even longer had you not stumbled across each other. Stiles had hurt you more than you’d ever been hurt before. You didn’t know if you’d be able to forgive him.

“Don’t talk to me,” you pleaded, words echoing your last conversation together.

“It is you,” he said, incredulous. He sounded happy. “Y/N, I-I can’t believe this!”

“I’m here for Allison, that’s the only reason I’m not on a plane headed back home right now. I’m serious, Stiles. Don’t try to talk to me. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

You heard him swallow through the link and suddenly became aware that the connection was sharper than before.

“I’ll leave you alone now,” he said, “but I’m finding you tomorrow. We need to talk.”

Closing your eyes, you turned over and switched off your bedroom light. When you didn’t reply, he left you with a final sentiment.

“I fucked up, Y/N, I know that. But fuck - if you think I’m going to let you go now I’ve found you, you’re so, so wrong.”

Allison was the one to drag you from your bed the following morning. She seemed to have a master key to the rooms as she woke you by hitting your arm with a pillow, almost giving you a heart attack.

“Fuck, Allison!” You exclaimed, sitting bolt upright as you clutched at your heart. She grinned sheepishly, holding up her palms.

“I had to wake you up somehow.” She sat on the side of your bed, demeanour shifting to something softer. “Stiles is your soulmate?”

“You heard,” you stated, crossing your arms. “Yes, he’s my soulmate. And also your friend, apparently.”

Allison nodded. “You never mentioned his name, I...I didn’t make the connection.” She looked like she felt bad so you reached across to pat her arm. “He’s been a mess all night, if it helps. Kept Scott up until 4am trying to make up some master plan. I can tell him to drop it, if you want.”

You nodded immediately. “I don’t want to talk to him,” you began, running your fingers through your hair. “I told him as much, but apparently he didn’t listen.” Allison grimaced. “I’ll pass it on. Stiles is very headstrong, though. He’s been...different since he lost you. Distant, fragile, sad. You could- you could try hearing him out?” When you glared at her, she bit her lip. “You know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was for the best.”

“Allison,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “He iced me out. I begged him to talk to me - sobbing - and he’d just ignore me. I started it, I know I did, but I can’t forgive him for ignoring that. As bad as I treated him, he was a thousand times worse. You saw what I became,” you said, casting your mind back to the nights you’d spent choking on your tears. “I’ve just started to date again, get my life back on track. He’s not going to derail it again,” you finished firmly. Your resolve was absolute - you would not let him in. You could be civil if you had to be, but that was for Allison and the sake of the wedding.

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “That’s completely fair. I’ll tell him you want him to stay away.” She got up, moving forwards to pull you into a short hug. “I need you downstairs in half an hour, though. I want to introduce you to everyone before we start with the first rehearsals.”

Sighing, you clung to her for a few moments longer than usual, using her soft shirt as a place to hide your tearful eyes. “I’ll be there,” you promised.

When she pulled back, Allison gave you a soft smile.

“Thank you.”

Meeting Allison’s friends was...weird. Despite the absence of Stiles (you’d been told he’d been dragged on a last minute errand from Scott), it was clear where the loyalties in the group lay. Apart from a few, most of Allison’s friends met you with curious glares, both wanting to know the woman who’d hurt Stiles and wanting to punish you.

“They’ll get over it,” a woman called Kira promised. Apparently, she’d used to date Scott, but things had ended so civilly that she’d been invited to the wedding. “The people that matter - us,” she gestured to the small group around you, “we know it wasn’t just your fault. Stiles is a great guy but he’s by no means a perfect person.”

There were a few people surrounding you. You’d managed to catch most of their names, but hadn’t placed them to faces yet. There was a Lydia, Derek, Isaac, Malia, Boyd, Erica and Liam. You’d heard of most of them before and resolved that they were the core of Allison’s - and presumably Stiles’ - friendship group.

“Thanks,” you said, smiling tightly. You really didn’t want to discuss it - especially with Stiles’ best friends. “So,” you said, trying to change the subject, “do you have any idea what we’re doing?”

“I think we’re going through the ceremony,” Liam(?) piped up. You’d made your way out to the beach and were standing in front of the aisle.

Allison appeared a few moments later, out of breath. “Y/N, I need you to pretend to be Scott,” she begged. When you looked confused, she rolled her eyes and began pulling you towards the end of the aisle. “He’s out with Stiles and someone needs to stand at the end. He knows what to do, don’t worry, I just need someone to be there.”

“Okay,” you agreed quickly. You didn’t have a specific role in the bridal party, so by filling in for Scott, you weren’t missing anything important.

“You’re a lifesaver!” She exclaimed, patting your shoulder gratefully. “Okay, stand here. Someone’ll give you instructions. I’ll see you in a few.” And then she jogged back across the sand, leaving you at the end of the aisle.

A few minutes later, the wedding choreographer wandered over and gave you specific instructions. Scott’s role (thankfully) lacked complexity - all you had to do was stand beneath an arch and wait for Allison to walk up the aisle.

It took about an hour until the entire thing was seamless. There were a few people to go up in front of Allison - distant cousins, close friends - so you just had to stand there. Liam and Derek would wander over to you every so often and keep you company, though, and you appreciated the effort they were making. Despite being alone, you were beginning to feel welcomed.

That was, at least, until two figures appeared across the beach.

You recognised the one on the left immediately as Stiles. Scott - the other - ran across the beach, meeting a slightly-frazzled Allison with a brief kiss.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologised, breathless, “it took longer than we expected.” His attention then shifted over to you, and you watched as his kind eyes lit up. “Oh, you must be Y/N!”

You went to nod and were surprised when he tackled you into a sweaty hug. Your eyes wandered and you met Allison’s as she was mouthing ‘I’m sorry.’

“That’s me,” you greeted, voice slightly weak. You were painfully aware of how close Stiles was getting. “I was filling in for you, but I guess now you’re here, I can go,” you said, muttering slightly towards the end.

“Oh, no,” Scott said, brows furrowing. “You don’t need to go.” You didn’t miss the way his eyes darted over towards Stiles.

“No,” you countered, giving him a tight smile. “I need to go now. I’ll see you all soon.”

Before they could intervene, you were walking up the aisle, dodging people. You didn’t look back and managed to make it halfway towards the hotel before you heard a shout.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Stiles hollered, voice carrying clearly across the beach. Despite seeing the looks given to your by passers-by, you continued to speed towards the hotel.

“Y/N, c’mon, please! I just want to talk to you!” His voice rattled through your head.

You stopped abruptly, reaching up to press your fingers against your aching temples. Stiles caught up with you, quickly jumping in front of you to block your path. “Y/N, please,” he repeated, voice soft, pleading. “Let me talk to you.”

He reached out to take your hand but you jumped back the second his skin touched yours, feeling as though you’d been shocked. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation - it was quite nice, really - but it wasn’t welcome. “I don’t want to talk to you,” you disagreed, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“Why?” He asked, hurt. “I know I made mistakes, but we both did. This isn’t completely on me,” he began, sucking on his bottom lip. “I want to fix it, I-I want to know you.”

You shook your head, kicking at a pebble. “I don’t. It was both of us, yes,” you agreed, “but it wasn’t me that purposefully ignored you for months. I don’t want to know you, Stiles. Just let it go.”

You dodged around him and suddenly realised you were shaking. You felt unbelievably conflicted to be around him. On the one hand, you were irritated, but on the other there was an ache in your heart that begged for you to forgive him, begged for you to leap into his arms and make a home there forever. “I’m sorry,” he called out, following you. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“But are you? Are you really? You have no idea what it was like, Stiles - no idea at all. I’m sorry, but I’m not ready to look at you, let alone talk to you. Give me space.”

When you began to walk off, you were relieved that he didn’t follow you. Instead, his voice carried through your head.

“There’s been enough space. No more, Y/N, no more…”

It was late evening. You’d gone to the rehearsal dinner and were relieved to see you weren’t sat anywhere near the best man. Instead, you’d spent the time getting to know a few of Allison’s friends, painfully aware of a blinding stare constantly sticking to the back of your head.

Every few minutes, you’d hear Stiles’ voice in your head. He’d say something small and then fade into the background. For the first time, you found yourself realising you’d give anything to be able to turn off the communication link.

“You look so beautiful today, Y/N.” 

“I think your laugh is the best sound I’ve ever heard.” 

“I missed your smile.”

When you bit the bait and responded by saying he’d not seen your smile to miss, he’d replied with an infuriating, “Hah! I knew you were listening,” and then followed up with, “after this, I need to talk to you.” To which you ignored.

Nonetheless, you ended up on the beach, Stiles sitting beside you. You’d initially gone out to sit on the sand dunes and watch the sunset, a glass of champagne in your hand, and although you’d taken a few of Allison’s friends with you, they’d disappeared when Stiles made an appearance.

With a little alcohol in your system, you finally felt ready to talk through some of the anger you felt towards the infuriating man sat beside you.

“Hi,” he greeted, scooting up the sand dune until his thigh was pressing against yours.

“Hey,” you responded, voice the calmest it’d addressed him in years. You didn’t have to be looking at him to know Stiles’ eyebrows arched.

“You, uh, you’re going to talk to me?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you affirmed, swallowing more of the bubbly liquid. “It’s time.”

“I agree,” he said. Silence fell, neither of you wanting to destroy this small slither of peace you’d managed to create within the chaos. “I am sorry, y’know? Really.”

“I know you are,” you replied. You did - Stiles had been an honest man two years ago and you could tell the same qualities still lay there. “I’m sorry, too.”

“It’s okay,” he responded. When he noticed the stiffness in your shoulders, he hesitated. “There’s something else, though, right?” When you nodded, he bit his bottom lip. “Please tell me.”

“You,” you began, pausing to finish the champagne. “You listened to me cry for months. Every night, you just...you ignored me. I was hurt and you pushed me aside.” This was the root of the problem. Not the suggestion to start afresh, the accusation that you weren’t enough - it was how easily he’d slipped from your life. For the first time, you began to see how he must have felt when he thought you were leaving him.

“I know,” he admitted, rubbing at his temples. “I regret that the most. It was horrible, but I just...I couldn’t do it. Every night it was harder to reach out, and eventually, you stopped and I was just relieved.” Hurt flared through your chest and felt Stiles stiffen beside you, “I missed you, though. Every day. I would’ve reached out but I thought you hated me, and I guess I was right.”

“I don’t hate you,” you said firmly. “You hurt me more than I’ve ever been hurt before, but I could never hate you.” It was the truth. Time had softened the harsh edges of his actions, and you’d grown to see why he’d acted the way he had. “It’s time to forgive each other.”

“Yeah?” He asked, voice hopeful. Finally, you turned to meet his eyes. You felt the breath leave your throat as you became completely lost in the depths of his amber orbs.

“Yeah.” You reached out, tenderly picking up his hand. You were slightly tipsy - you knew that - but you also knew your words to be true. You wouldn’t come to regret any of this.

Stiles’ hand slotted perfectly into yours, long fingers tangling with yours in a way that felt so right - so unbelievably meant-to-be - that you couldn’t quite believe it.

“I forgive you, Stiles,” you followed up, words merely a whisper.

With the sun’s setting rays glinting off his hair, a warm smile arranged itself on his pink lips. “I forgive you too, Y/N.”

Nothing more was said.

His free arm went to curl around your shoulder and you found yourself leaning into his side. It was a safe position - you felt nothing but at ease inside his embrace. Every now and again, his thumb would flick across the back of your hand, rubbing small circles into your skin. It was a small gesture, but it made your heart go crazy.

With so few words, everything had changed. For the first time in forever, you found yourself feeling content as you drifted off to sleep that night. Things were finally looking up.

When Allison walked down the aisle, you cried harder than you had in days. She looked absolutely beautiful, and as she and Scott sealed their love with a sweet kiss, the clapping you erupting into was completely genuine.

“Uh, Y/N, you have a bit of smudged mascara.” You heard Stiles whisper, jumping slightly at the unfamiliarity of having his voice back in your head. Glancing across the aisle, you saw him pointing to a spot on his cheek so mirrored his actions on your own face. “That’s it, yeah. All gone.”

“Thank you, Stiles,” you replied, grateful. You gave him a smile, the expression widening when he blushed in response.

“No problem.”

Soon enough, you found yourself in the restaurant, beginning the wedding breakfast along with the newlyweds. Despite being tables away, Stiles kept up a running commentary.

“Hey, look. That guy used to be our old lacrosse coach - can’t believe Scott invited him here...oh my god, do you think he’s going to eat that entire steak in one mouthful? Please don’t, please don’t, please- oh! He did it. Well, that’s just charming…”

His cheerful rambles had been gone for so long that you’d forgotten how funny Stiles could be.

As his voice began to return and make itself familiar, so did the feelings that you’d spent months trying to bury. It was infuriating, somehow - you’d spent so long trying to move on and get over him that it seemed such a shame for your heart to flutter whenever he was around.

However, all it took was one of his small smiles to have your anger dissipate. Having him back in your life wasn’t wasn’t a bad thing. You had no idea how he felt, but you found yourself growing giddy over the possibility of being with him. You’d fallen in love with a voice in your head - now you had the man attached to it, as well as all the time in the world.

After cutting the cake, the wedding party disappeared to take photos. You were called through to take a couple with Allison and her friends but didn’t find yourself having any time with Stiles until everyone moved into a second hall and the dances began.

Following the traditional order, you stood with the rest of the guests and watched as Scott and Allison took their first dance as a couple, trying to hold back additional tears.

“Are you going to cry again? Because if so,” Stiles slipped to be beside you, holding out a plastic packet, “I found tissues.”

Letting out a short laugh, you reached out and wrapped an arm around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s been such a beautiful wedding,” you said sincerely.

“I know,” Stiles agreed quickly, free hand resting on your arm. He gave it a small squeeze before continuing. “Scott’s a hopeless romantic, I always knew they’d go for something like this.” He gestured to the grandeur of the hall, the traditional ornaments scattered around. “I’m happy for them, though. They both deserve something like this.”

You glanced over to where Allison had her head resting on Scott’s shoulder, and then at the expression of a doting affection written across the man’s face.

“Mhmm,” you agreed.

A few minutes passed. Scott danced with Allison’s dad as Allison did likewise with his mum, and the way Scott tried earnestly to avoid Mr Argent’s feet had you laughing. You barely knew the man, but as Allison’s husband and Stiles’ best friend, you knew that’d change soon enough.

Stiles cleared his throat. “May I have this dance?” He asked, voice nervous. 

“Of course,” you replied, taking his outstretched hand with a grin. You found your way onto the dancefloor as a variety of other couples did likewise, quickly slotting into his open stance. “Hey,” you realised, reminiscing somewhat, “this is kinda like prom.”

Stiles laughed bittersweetly, nodding as he pulled you into a slow waltz. “The prom we never had.”

“So much better than my actual prom,” you commented, earning yourself a raised eyebrow.

“You told me it went well!”

You bit your lip. “That was a small lie,” you admitted. “I missed you too much to have any fun without you. I’d never met you, but I knew you were the one I wanted to be dancing with.”

Stiles swallowed, and for the first time that evening, you took the time to appreciate the suit he was wearing. It was a navy number, the material making the gold flecks in his eyes stand out. It fit him well - snug in all the right places.

“Mine, too,” he said, looking wistful. “I liked you so much, all I wanted to do was dance with you. But I guess we’re doing that now, right? Making up for lost time?”

“Yeah,” you replied immediately. “We have a lot to make up for, but we can do it. If you want to, of course. Don’t want to force you into life with me if you don’t want to be here.” You realised that you’d assumed he wanted to know you, to pursue a relationship with you, and had never actually checked with him.

When Stiles let out a sound of indignation, you found your fears of rejection melting. “We’re going to make up for lost time, Y/N,” he reassured. “We’re going to get to know each other again, and then we’re finally going to get to try again. This time it’ll work.” The unwavering conviction in his voice let you know just how serious he was taking it all.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It’ll work out this time.”

“It will.”

Once Allison and Scott had left for their honeymoon, you found yourself on the beach again with Stiles. This time you were perched on the edge of the pier, sharing a waffle he’d bought at a café. You both had a few more days in the Bahamas before you had to return home, and you’d just discovered that you only lived about an hour away from each other. Things were finally falling into place.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, nudging his shoulder. “Stop hogging the waffle!”

“It’s mine,” Stiles shot back, pouting. He handed it over despite the fact, watching you with fake annoyance as you took a bite and moaned. “So unfair.”

“It’s not my fault,” you defended, “this is the best waffle I’ve ever eaten. It’s your fault for only getting one.” After rolling your eyes, you went to pass it back to him, only to find Stiles vacantly looking off into the distance. “Hey, Stiles,” you reached out to prod his shoulder, “what’s wrong?”

He turned to face you, sighing softly. “I’m really happy you’re here,” he admitted. “I didn’t think this moment would ever happen, ‘thought I’d ruined it all.”

Reaching down, you took hold of his fingers and squeezed them. “I’m here,” you murmured, reassuring. 

When he spoke next, you were surprised that he chose to whisper them through the link instead of open his mouth.

“I love you, Y/N,” he muttered, voice shaking in a manner that betrayed his nerves.

You blinked. “Wh-Why did you just say that through the bond?” You questioned, blinking quickly as you mind tried to process the sacred words.

“So you could ignore them if you didn’t feel the same,” Stiles reasoned with a short laugh. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, almost feel the apprehension and the budding regret.

“Stiles,” you said, meeting his eyes. “I love you too. Never stopped.”

He sucked in a breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?” You queried, laughing slightly.

“I love you,” he said, finally using his words. A beam split across your face and you found yourself feeling happier than you had in a long, long time. “Can I, uh,” he broke off, eyes flicking to rest on your mouth, “can I kiss you?”

“Of course.”

You both leaned in. An act of fate seemed to occur, as you both leaned to the right and managed to avoid bumping noses, your lips slotting against one another a few seconds later. Although you were sat on the edge of the pier, you managed to move in close, maintaining your balance as you wrapped your arms around his waist, deepening the kiss by tenfold. He made a small noise of surprise when you reached up to drag your fingers through the ends of his hair, twisting your digits through the strands.

“Hey, can I talk to you whilst we’re kiss-”

“Jesus Christ, Stiles!” You exclaimed, pulling back. “Don’t talk to me when we’re kissing!” You said, laughing slightly. You didn’t mind his voice floating through your head at any other moment, but whilst you were kissing, it felt weird.

“Sorry,” he said, a glint in his eye betraying his sincerity. “Won’t do it again.”

“I don’t believe you,” you admitted, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. “I don’t think I care, though.”

“Mhmm?” He hummed, eyebrow raising. His warm hands squeezed your sides and you found your cheeks warming.

“Yeah.” You leaned closer. “Kiss me again.”

As you watched his lips twist into a smirk, an inescapable optimism fixed itself inside your chest. You had Stiles back - you had your soulmate sat beside you, arms holding you close. As you grinned back at him, you knew things had slotted perfectly into place.

“Oh,” Stiles said, shooting you a wink. “You don’t need to ask me twice.”

any feedback? I would love to hear any thoughts you have on this!

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@savage-stilinski @yoinkpeter

[stilinski-stydia-obrien]

Roommate AU II Stiles Stilinski Smut

Author's Note: So this is my fic for @fillthevoid-stilinski reading challenge sorry it has taken so long and apologies if it is a big heap of trash. It does have smut and I couldn't have done it without @one-shot-central He is just incredible and you never would have gotten this without him so big thank you <3 and also @thelittlestkitsune thank you so much for proofreading this and for telling me to keep going. So I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think x

WARNING: Swearing (lots of it oops :/) sex, oral female receiving, unprotected sex (please remember to be safe) I think that's all sorry if I've missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 5,860

STILES X READER FIC

   You had been Roommates with Scott McCall for almost 3 years now. The pair of you had hit it off freshman year and when it came to the time of getting rented accommodation with other flatmates, It was a no-brainer for the pair of you. Scott was your wingman, your confidante, your best friend and you were his. The only difference, he had two best friends and his other one was a complete asshole. You had nothing nice to say about him, and apparently, he had nothing nice to say about you. Scott would often invite him round for gaming nights or for drinks and a laugh. It wasn't the fact he was taking away your best friend from you. No, it was more to do with how much he bad mouthed you for what you would wear. The first night you met you couldn't take your eyes off him. He made you laugh and Scott demanded you play 20 questions with him to get to know him better. He wanted his two best friends to get along.

“so do we start with full names or do you want to jump straight into the interesting stuff" he smirked as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Hmm… hit me with the interesting ones you can find out my full name later” you winked.

“Oh, we've got a wild one here Scott. Normally people are so vanilla” he laughed as you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“Okay so first question…. Are you? Okay now, this is where I decide if you are worth becoming friends with or not. What's your favorite baseball team?”

You laughed at his question rolling your head back and pretending to think about it.

“Stiles… I don't know if Scott told you or not or if you could tell by the accent, but I'm not American. I didn't really give much thought to the game until last year….but I guess if I was to choose one it would be the ehm Mets?” you answered more like a question, looking to Scott as he gave you a wink and a thumbs up. Scott had decided to prepare you beforehand because Stiles wouldn't have taken that excuse for an answer. You had been in America for 3 years you had plenty of time to get acquainted with baseball.

“Okay good” he laughed “You're worthy. Right, so next question who would win in a fight Batman or Superman?” you giggled at the silliness of his questions thinking maybe you would be good friends with him.

“Okay, so easiest question all day. And Batman you tell me any different and I'll punch you!” You mock threatened as he feigned offense. He clutched at his chest. “I would never disrespect Bat man like that. He is the greatest superhero of them all" he exclaimed in a deep voice-over voice.

After a few more rounds of silly questions, you get like you had really hit it off with Stiles. You had a lot of things in common. He was very attractive and you couldn't help but feel the magnetic pull that flowed between you both. You felt like maybe there was something there between the two of you because amidst the questions the pair of you had flirted like mad. You thought the night had gone really well and had lingered on the stairway as Stiles had gotten up to leave. You watched Scott and Stiles bro hug and say how much they enjoyed their night. Scott actually hugged him again praising him for taking the time to get to know you.

“Thanks for this Stiles, I really appreciate you getting to know (Y/N). She's the greatest thing that's happened to me since moving back. The pair of you seemed to hit it off though” he beamed at his best friend.

“Yeah God Scott she's great!” He laughed. Your heart beat grew faster and you couldn't help the smile that graced your face. Maybe you should go say goodbye tell him how much you enjoyed tonight and how you'd love to do it again.

“She's really great Scott. I'm glad you've found a friend in her. But does she realize what's she's wearing is super inappropriate?” he questioned. You couldn't help the sting in your heart. You stood there until you couldn't take anymore slowly ascending the stairs with tears in your eyes. From then it was like his constant routine to bring you down about what you wore. There was one night in particular that Stiles had pissed you off big time. He and Scott were in the living room drinking and chatting completely unaware you were standing in the kitchen behind them able to hear everything that was being said. You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but the second he mentioned your name your blood began to boil and you couldn’t tear yourself away.

“Jesus Scott did you see how (Y/N) was dressed tonight?” exclaimed his husky voice. You glanced down at yourself extremely self-conscious taking in what you were wearing. You didn't think you looked bad, you were actually quite impressed with your outfit. You completely missed Scott’s reply as you were too focused on your clothes but as soon as Stiles spoke again your attention was fully on him.

“It’s inappropriate man. That skirt is way too short, you can almost see her ass.” he shot again. Every word that came out of his mouth hit you like a bullet and you had no idea why. You didn’t care about his opinion. He didn't matter to you. At least you never thought he did. It wouldn’t have mattered coming out of anyone else’s mouth so why did it bother you so much coming out of his.  You had decided you had had enough of being slandered and made to leave the kitchen but as you reached the kitchen door you heard the last words utter out of his mouth.

“ She dresses so slutty everyday how could you not notice this.”

From that day you had never hated him more and you were damned if you were going to let him get to you.

STILES POV.

When Scott first told you he was moving into rented accommodation with a girl, you were so proud of him. He hadn’t even thought of a girl since everything happened with Kira and now he was moving in with one. That was, of course, until you met her. She was breathtaking, and you prayed to god that Scott didn’t like her in that way. The first night you had met it was like she had stepped off a billboard. She had on a beige low cut sweater with navy blue booty shorts on. She looked bloody hot. Even her voice was sexy and you thanked your lucky stars when Scott demanded you played 20 questions. You'd get to know her better and you could listen to her voice for a little while longer.

“Okay, so it's my turn to ask a question seeing as you've asked me 4 and have answered none yourself.” She giggled as she shimmied a little closer to you.  “Do you get nervous?” she asked slyly as she placed her hand on your thigh ever so slowly creeping it further up your leg. Your breath hitched in your throat the higher she got before she abruptly pulled away giggles falling from her lips. “I'm sorry that was cruel that wasn't really my question I just wanted to test you.” She laughed again resting her head on your shoulder. “So Stiles what is your favorite thing to do?” You looked down at her thinking over your answer carefully. You didn't want to come across as a total nerd if you told her it was watching Star Wars over and over again.

“Probably spending time with my dad. Since I started college I never really got to see him so now that I'm back for a while we get to spend more time together. Of course that and spending time with my bro here.” You settled slinging your arm over Scott's shoulder to give him a bro hug. That night had gone so well and you were glad to have gotten to know (Y/N) Scott clearly cared for her as a friend and you were more than willing to make an effort for her. However, there was one thing that bothered you. How she dressed. You mentioned to Scott about how inappropriate it was because all during the night you couldn't help but stare at her. She turned you on so much and the way she sat in her small shorts, the hemline slipping up further up her leg. Every bit more showing off more leg than previously, had your heart beating fast and desperately willing the tent in your pants to go away. Every time you saw her your attraction for her grew and grew. It was becoming very hard to be around her at all because she constantly wore short skirts or tops that would just frame her breasts nicely. Every time she would leave you with a semi: totally taken aback at how gorgeous she really was. That’s when you had to confront Scott. Ask him if he had any feelings towards her other than friendly ones and if he noticed the way she dressed. You asked him if he could maybe hint to her to stop wearing such revealing clothes because all it was doing was making you hard. Scott laughed at you and told you to just ask her out and to stop being such a pussy. So you traipsed up to her room about to do just that when you heard quiet sobs coming from her room. You tiptoed towards the door pressing your ear up against it making sure it was definitely coming from her room. You knocked quietly opening the door just to check she was ok. As you popped your head around the door a pillow came flying towards your face.

“ I didn’t say you could come in asshole. Leave me the fuck alone.” she sobbed.

Your heart ached for her, you wanted to know why she was sad. You wanted to make her feel better. But she didn’t want you there. It seemed like she didn't want you anywhere.  

3 days Later

You hadn’t been over to Scott’s apartment in a couple of days as your own college course had been giving you some grief. But you trudged up all your things the second Scott asked you if you wanted to come over to study. He also sent a sly second text letting you know that (Y/N) seemed in a happier mood. You couldn't help but smile at your best friend trying to play matchmaker. It was (Y/N) that opened the door to you a smile resting on her mouth and you couldn't help but be taken aback by her beauty. Her smile quickly faded and she turned and walked away leaving the door open for you to walk in. You and Scott had been sat studying for what seemed like days when you decided you needed to stop for a bathroom break. As you climbed the stairs you could hear the slight sing-song tune of her voice coming from the landing above. Before you knew it her voice had carried you to her door listening in to the conversation she was having with someone on the phone.

“ I get it Becks he’s a boy but does he really have to leave the place a shit hole all the time. I mean I come home from a lecture and he’s done nothing but smoke weed the entire day.” she sighed listening to the voice on the other end.

She was slagging off your best friend and you didn’t like it one bit. You had seen her be so nice to Scott’s face and not once bring up that he should tidy up more. She was being so two-faced and even though you thought she was absolutely stunning ripping into your best friend just didn’t sit well with you. You walked away solemnly from her door upset that she could be that kind of person that was nice to someone’s face but a total bitch behind their back. You were done, your attraction for her put on the back burner, never to be spoken about again.

READERS POV.

You had been on the phone to your sister for about an hour complaining about the mess of your apartment. How Scott would never tidy up and how you couldn’t say very much because you were just as bad. You both needed someone to come in and kick your asses into shape because the apartment wasn’t going to clean itself. You also sat and discussed the details of your sister's bachelorette party as she was getting married in 2 months so the plans had to be almost perfect by now. You were so excited and nothing was going to ruin your mood. As soon as you hung up the phone you heard all the commotion down the stairs and ran out onto the landing.

“Scotty is everything okay??” you shouted. Getting no response you ran further down the stairs shouting Scotts name.

You caught him as he was hurriedly trying to put on his shoes at the front door. Stiles panicking just behind him.

“Hey, can I borrow your car? Somethings happened to Stiles’ dad we need to get to the hospital.”

You could see the fear in both of their eyes the tears beginning to pool in Stiles’. You knew neither one of them were in the right mind to drive so you grabbed your keys and ushered them into the car.

There had been an accident at Stiles house. The electrics shorted and caused a fire with Noah inside. He inhaled a lot of smoke but the firefighters and paramedics got him out in time. He had a broken leg as part of the staircase had come crumbling down as he was trying to get out of the house. The hospital required he stay there for a few weeks so they could keep an eye on his breathing and the injuries he had sustained. Meaning Stiles would have to come and stay with us. You felt sorry for him for what had happened with his dad but that didn't take away the hate you had boiling in you from what he had said about you. The next two weeks were going to be a nightmare and you couldn't wait for it to be over.

You guys had been arguing non-stop about the pettiest of things. You nagging at him for using the last of the milk for his cereal and him nagging at you for taking so long in the shower. It was getting beyond a joke but you both hated each other and wouldn't let up until the other person got so pissed off they stormed away. And this went on for the first full week. Neither of you could ever say anything nice to each other and Scott was getting sick of it. You could tell that tensions were running high the full week but you reminded yourself you only had one more to endure and he'd be out of here.

It wasn't all bad. Out of all the arguments, you both had, you had to admit there was a nice caring side to Stiles. Not that he'd ever show it in front of you but you saw it shine through sometimes. Like in the way he and Scott would have such a laugh and they'd both be hysterical on the sofas. His laughter was a song you'd love to play on repeat. But every time you'd feel yourself starting to like him and consider forgiving him he'd make another snide comment and you'd be back to square one.

It got to a point where he was making comments way more frequently that you started to dress worse on purpose. You wore lower cut tops and higher cut skirts. And you would make inappropriate gestures in front of him. You knew it pissed him off and that made you feel good. You weren't going to let his comments put you down anymore.

It was the night of your sister's bachelorette party and you were all going to go clubbing. It was girls only and since you were all single, apart from Beck’s of course, you had a bride to be scavenger hunt and a slutty bridesmaid scavenger hunt for everyone to take part in. You were so excited and couldn't wait to wear your maid of honor sash. You were going to make this the best night of your sister's life. You had dressed up in a gorgeous green sequined dress that came down to just above your knees. Very modest yes. But the slit up the side. Not so much. Your hair flowed in long curls down your back with minimal makeup to suit your dress. For once you felt amazing and you couldn't wait for the night to begin. You slipped on you black heels and placed you sash across your shoulder.

“perfect" you smiled.

STILES’ POV.

You knew it was her sister's bachelorette so you should have stayed at home. You didn't want to see her because you knew she would look absolutely stunning. And you didn't quite know if you could control yourself. You knew she would be down soon to leave so you made a lame excuse to Scott and tried to leave before you saw her. You were in the clear you had made it outside and into the elevator before she had left. That was until you saw a small hand reach into the elevator just before the doors were about to close pushing on the edge so the doors would reopen. Shit, you mentally cursed. The moment you laid eyes on her your breath hitched in your throat. Just as you thought she would be, she was stunning. A beautiful green dress that hugged her figure perfectly, slit up the side revealing the perfect amount of leg. You groaned moving slightly to adjust the small problem that had just occurred in your pants, hoping that she wouldn't have noticed. You heard a small scoff release from her mouth a blush creeping up your cheeks at the thought of being caught. You dared a quick glance at her expecting to see a look of disgust on her face. However, to your surprise, she just looked irritated at being stuck in the same place as you.

READER POV.

All of a sudden the elevator halted to a stop, the lights cutting out and the backup generator flickering to release some light back into the confined space.

“Oh for fuck's sake" you sighed. You were desperate to get to your sister’s bachelorette and out of the small space, you were stuck in with Stiles. Now you were definitely going nowhere. You pressed the help button repeatedly hoping that someone would free you as soon as possible. However you got no response, you were stuck.

You must have been sat there at least 25 minutes when the cold started to get to you. You really should have grabbed a coat but you were already running late so you forgot to lift it. You knew stiles would make a dig if he knew you were cold so you tried to play it off. After another 20 minutes of waiting you couldn't help when you teeth involuntary started to chatter. You looked to your left a small smirk plastered on his smug face.

“if you wore more appropriate clothes you wouldn't be so cold” he jeered at you.

All you wanted to do was smack him in the face and call him a bloody asshole. However, you plastered on a fake smile and jeered back.

“It’s my sister's bachelorette. What else am I supposed to wear? I’m not a fucking nun"

He clearly wasn't impressed as a scowl now rested on his features. You'd clearly pissed him off and he was having none of it. The words that rolled off his tongue next were rude and unnecessary and you could feel yourself having to hold back your tears.

“ Of course you're not a nun. You constantly dress like a hooker!”

Your blood was boiling and you'd had enough of his shit. This was the last comment he was ever going to make about the way you dressed and you were going to make god damn sure of it.

“ Are you fucking shitting me, Stiles!” You yelled. You'd reached beyond boiling point and his face proved he had said the worst thing possible.

“ I am not a slut and fuck you for making me feel like shit. I heard what you had to say to Scott about me being inappropriate and making comments on how I dress. I never wear anything too revealing because sometimes I fucking hate my body Stiles okay! I find it hard to look in the mirror and actually like things about myself so when I do feel good about it I should be able to flaunt it.” by this point tears had begun to stream down your face. You were angry and disgusted at the fact he hated you so much.

“(Y/N) …. I…” he tried but you cut him off not ready to be done with your argument.

“No Stiles. For weeks you have made me feel awful about myself and the way I look to the point I've cried myself to sleep. But god knows you're not worth my tears. You made me hate myself and for that…. God for that I hate you so damn much.” You were done. Exhausted from finally lifting this heavy weight of your chest. You looked to stiles and what looked like tears pooled in his eyes.

“God (Y/N) I am so so sorry. I never once wanted to make you feel like that. To me, you are literally breathtaking and I can't tear my eyes away from you. I have never seen someone so perfect it my entire life. I hate myself so much for even making you think I thought any of that about you. And the conversation with Scott, I called it inappropriate because every goddamn time I see you you turn me on so much. You are so attractive and sometimes I physically have to restrain myself from pushing you up against the wall and kissing the shit outta you.”

The tears had stopped falling and you realized you had totally misread the situation.

“I never even realized” you started reaching for his arm to express how sorry you were. “I'm really sorry Stiles I didn't even think. God I'm so sorry” you pleaded for forgiveness even though you could see in his eyes he wasn't ready to forgive and forget. That look didn't stop you from moving closer to him. As much as he made you feel so bad about yourself you hadn't heard the part of the conversation where he had confessed his feelings for you. Which begged the question why didn't he tell you? Why didn't he act on It? You pulled up all the courage you had.

“If you liked me so much Stiles then why didn't you act on it.”

He looked at you and sighed “ You were so horrible about my best friend (Y/N). I heard you bitching about him to your sister and then you're so nice to his face. If you hated him being so messy you could have just said rather than hating on him behind his back.” He said glaring at you clearly still pissed about the whole situation. You sighed a small smile on your face.

“I guess we're both good at missing the end of the conversation” you laughed.

Stiles cleared his throat looking confused to what you were getting at.

“You only heard part of the conversation Stiles. Yes, I said Scott constantly leaves a mess but I was telling my sister about how I was just as bad. That I leave a mess at my arse all the time and that we both need to be kicked into shape. I wasn't trying to hate on him, Stiles. I love Scott to bits I wouldn't ever want Scott to think I hated him.”

You saw a smirk grace Stiles’ lips. You both came to the realization that the pair of you had completely misheard and misread the entire situation. You both began to giggle the very sound of his laughter giving you butterflies. All you could do was step forward and give him a hug.

“I'm really sorry for the misunderstanding Stiles. I never meant to make you hate me.”

“god (Y/N) I could never hate you. For the last 3 years, I haven't stopped thinking about you. Thinking about hugging you, being with you, k-kissing you” he stumbled out bringing his gaze down to meet yours.

“I know what was stopping you before. But what's stopping you now” you smirked licking your lips.

Before anything else could be said you crashed your lips up against his in a desperate passionate kiss. He moaned into your mouth, his hands roaming all over your body. Yours instinctively doing the same….only your hands were removing articles of clothing off of him exposing his toned chest and shoulders. This is the first you had seen him without his shirt, you knew he worked out but …. His stomach was like an ironing board. You couldn’t help but run your hands over his stomach and chest tracing the outlines of the muscles in his skin. He continued to kiss down from your mouth to your neck and shoulders. You hadn’t even noticed that he had removed your dress as you were so mesmerized by his chest, but the kisses along your neck and shoulders brought you back to him and how you had been longing for this. Granted the dark disabled elevator wasn’t part of the original daydream but this would do. You returned his kisses and felt his hands going to undo the buttons of his pants but he stopped and pulled away from you and the kiss. You opened your eyes a little bit of hurt lacing them until you realized why the power had returned and the elevator was moving again. He helped you put your dress back on and he pulled his shirt back over his shoulders. As the doors to the elevator opened he put his arm around you and walked you out to your car. He smiled at you and asked when you would be back from the party. You thought about it and replied “I might be knocking at your door around midnight” with a sly smile on your face. And with that, you continued on your way to the bachelorette keeping in mind you still wanted to be sober enough to give consent if anything more did go on when you got back to Stiles apartment.

You were the last one to the party, but after you explained to your sister about the elevator incident in your building, while leaving some more personal details out, she was glad you were able to make it. You spent some time with your sister and her friends laughing as the night went on, a certain someone constantly on your mind. You took part in the slutty scavenger hunt opting to leave the more risque tasks to be completed by the other girls, you couldn't do that to Stiles. The thought of him, being near him had your stomach doing flips. You couldn't wait to get away and to finish what you had started. You had glanced at your watched realizing you hadn't been out for long. You would feel guilty for ditching your sister so early so you swallowed your eagerness to leave and tried to enjoy yourself as much as you could. As you slowly sipped on your third drink you noticed a slim built guy with obvious toned muscles approaching your table and your sister. Shit! Your sister's bridesmaids had gotten her a stripper. You continued to nurse your drink you ears filled with laughter and whooping as the stripper took off his clothes. Looking at his toned chest all you could think of was Stiles and the way your hand slipped down his effortlessly. The way the stripper moved made you think of Stiles and how he would hold you and keep you close to his body, his toned chest pressing against yours. You could feel the growing ache between your legs as you tried to create some friction. You quickly took a glance at your watch, you had to get out of here you needed to see Stiles.

After some quick lies about needing to take care of some minor details for a class, you were able to slip away from the party a little tipsy but determined. You were going to sleep with Stiles tonight. What happened in the elevator kept playing on your mind at the party only increasing your desire for what may be hidden under his tight khaki pants. As you got to his building you realized this was actually happening and you had no second thought about it as you hit the button for his floor and watched doors close hoping that this elevator wouldn’t cut out on you. Luckily it didn’t, you stepped out and walked down the hall to his door and knocked. No response. Knocking again you still received no response. “Okay one last time” you sighed as you brought your knuckles down against the door. This time he answered sleep in his eyes, wearing nothing but some tight boxers revealing his sizeable package which made you blush. “ What do you want,” he said in a half grumble half whisper. “ I told you midnight didn’t I ?” at the sound of your voice he snapped out of his half slumber and immediately closed the door enough so that just his head was peeking through the door.color had rushed to his cheeks as he realized that you had kept your promise. “Let me put some shorts on,” he said trying to close the door. “No” you purred pressing your hand against the door keeping him from closing it “ all I could think about tonight was that damn elevator and what we did. We are doing this now” you pushed your way in showing a little dominance, only for him to close the door behind you and shove you up against it immediately planting his lips against yours and reaching behind you for the zipper of your dress. Before you could even catch a second breath he had your dress off. Your hands wandered his body finding their way to the front of his boxers. You could feel him growing stiff as you grabbed what you could through the material and gave him a little tease. You were suddenly being lifted in the air and carried across the room all while continuing to kiss him. Your back crashed against the soft crumpled sheet on his bed. It felt like he was worshipping your body kissing your neck down to your breast and continuing on down to your stomach and hips. Then moving back up to kiss you. You had been aching all night for this and you could feel the heat coming from his body only making the desire grow stronger. He moved back down your body tracing patterns with his fingers and lips before moving to the hem of your panties and slowly pulling them down your legs. His hands moved to your inner thighs as he kissed up your legs and thighs slowly moving closer and closer. You let out a small moan as the heat of his breath drew closer. “Please…..Stop…..Teasing” you managed between heavy breaths as he kissed closer and closer. He forced your hand you grabbed his hair and steered him to your clit you could feel his smile between your legs as he went to kiss your clit you let out a small moan. Then he really began to work on you tracing patterns and repeating the ones that you reacted to the most. You kept a tuft of his hair in your hand and had the other in a fistful of sheets. He really knew his way around. And he was displaying it now. “More… Give ...Me ….More” Stiles was more than happy to oblige. He stopped his assault on your clit and slipped his body back up to meet yours. You could feel him align his hard cock against your soaked cunt, sliding in with minimal effort. He started rocking his hips against yours, needy moans escaping both your lips. As he thrust into you he slipped his tongue to the crook of your neck licking and biting purple marks onto your skin. The overstimulation was starting to get to you and you could feel the fire in your stomach beginning to blaze. You were close the almost screams releasing from your throat a clear indication of that. You could feel Stiles’ smirk against your neck as he knew you were seconds away from losing all control. He started to speed up his thrusts, his finger reconnecting with your clit to push you over the edge. He gave a fast sharp thrust that threw you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you. He could feel your muscles constrict against his cock milking out his orgasm shortly after yours. The sound of your names rolling of your tongues and heavy breathing was all that could be heard as you came down from the mind shattering orgasms.

“Holy shit… that was… wow,” he whispered out breathily.  A small giggle erupted from your chest as you pulled yourself into his side, hand resting on his chest.

“That was… wow” you giggled as you placed a quick kiss to they spatter of hair across his chest. He pulled you in closer to him a huge smile on his face.

“I'm glad I told you how I feel (Y/N). All this hating each other was really getting exhausting.” He laughed.

“Yeah, I'm glad too Stiles. Really glad.” You smiled back. A look of fear suddenly washed over Stiles' face as he turned on his side to face you.

“How the bloody hell are we gonna tell Scott” he questioned.

You once again smiled up to him placing a kiss on his forehead as you snuggled in even further.

“we'll worry about that later babe. Just now all I want is to cuddle you and forget about everything else.” you smiled your eyes beginning to flutter shut.

“babe… I like that” he whispered leaving a kiss on your forehead as his eyes began to slowly close too.

Please let me know what you thought here. Hope you enjoyed.

@mf-despair-queen @thelittlestkitsune @maddie110201 @iasminthestirlingite @susybird @hirafth @broodybell

[were-cheetah-stiles]

The Bad Parts In (Part 1) - Void!Stiles Stilinski

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “The Flock It Has Bred”

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Nogitsune, Noah Stilinski, Scott McCall & Reader

Prompt: “I Need You To Trust Me Now”

Author’s Note: This is my entry for @fillthevoid-stilinski‘s writing challenge and it’s kind of hilarious that this happened because I have about two parts, of three, fully written for a 1000% different FBI!Stiles fic which was supposed to be my submission for the WC but I was so not in love with it. It’ll come out eventually, but I was much more in love with this. Tomorrow is also Halloween, or as I have now dubbed it, “Nogitsuween 2017″ and I thought this was more fitting. I have never written Void before but there is a song by a band, called Brand New, and the lyrics essentially, more or less, describe Void and every time I hear the song, I think of him. So this fic was going to be done sooner or later. I went with sooner. This will probably only be two parts. :) enjoy.

Additional Note: I’ve never used an actual episode of TW as the template for one of my fics, but I sort of did with this. I hope it doesn’t suck.

Thanks: to the forever homies and the little boo’s @rememberstilinski and @maddie110201 for looking over part of this for me last night.

Song: I worked as many of the lyrics, or the directions in the lyrics, to ‘Degausser’, by Brand New, off of their aptly name third album, “The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me”. It’s a phenomenal song. You should give it a listen. 

“The Flock It Has Bred” - “The Sleep In The Alkaline”

"Well, I guess I can say goodbye to sleep." Stiles chewed on his nub of a thumbnail, while twisting in his desk chair, his elbow digging into his thigh as the rest of his body moved back and forth.

You glanced up at his comment, a sadness resting in every muscle of your body over the recent events. You had run into Scott and Stiles in the hallway on your way to fifth period, on their first day back at school since sacrificing themselves for their parents. Scott pulled you into the locker room to help him calm Stiles, in the throes of a panic attack, and you knelt in front of him, helping him to count his fingers and letting him count yours after, just to make double sure that he was not dreaming. You were real, this was real, he was awake. The trouble only began from there. 

You were the one that immediately recognized Stiles' handwriting on the chalkboard, spelling out Kira's name, essentially directing William Barrow on who to kill. You were with Scott, the Sheriff, and Melissa when Stiles went to the hospital to have the MRI figure out if he had frontotemporal dementia, like his mother, and you were there when Deaton finally injected the lichen into Stiles' veins, rendering the Nogitsune inert, at least for the time being. It had been a nightmare of a week or so, you weren’t even sure how much time had passed since you held Stiles under the water in the animal clinic. Time always seemed to stand still when your world was crumbling around you.

"Please don't do this. Don't leave me to figure this out by myself.... Just don't, don't leave me, Sti." You pleaded with him quietly from across his bedroom.

He leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his sinewy hand against the black, engorged veins on the back of his neck, unable to make eye contact with you anymore, and wanting to confirm that the marks were still there. He was still him. For now. "I have to go... Me being locked up in Eichen is the safest option for everyone. I can't hurt anyone there, Y/n." He glanced up, your hands resting awkwardly in your lap, your thumb pushing into your palm as if you were trying to work out a kink in the muscle. Stiles tried to lighten the mood. "Besides, I think that staying up is exactly what I need.. I can read, I can work out the theories, and you can come help me during visiting hours." He paused when he saw you shaking your head, and looking down at your lap.

"Not sleeping is not the answer, Sti. You already look like a train hit you going full speed. What's a few more days going to do you?" You wanted to know the answer to that question. You began typing on your laptop, resting on top of his blue plaid comforter, dimly lit in front of you.

Stiles got up from the desk chair to sit next to you on the bed. He had been somewhat afraid to touch you since the Nogitsune took over, afraid to hurt you, but you looked so distraught that he couldn't stifle the innate need to comfort you. You didn't look up when you felt the mattress shift next to you, or when Stiles' smooth and sweet voice rang out near your ear. "It's going to keep the Nogitsune at bay for a bit longer... What are you looking up?" He asked, running his veiny hand under your shirt and absentmindedly began rubbing away the stress in your lower back. "'How many days can you go without sleep without dying?'" Stiles scrunched his face and nodded. "Morbid, babe, very grim, and maybe a little overdramatic."

You shot him an unamused glare and then wrapped your hand under his thigh, your physical connections with each other simply happening naturally, without much thought. "Eleven days... and it doesn't clarify whether that person then slept or just dropped dead. You can't stay up forever."

"I don't need to stay up forever, I just need to stay up long enough for you to figure out how to take apart my head. I know you'll be able to crack why I suddenly can't count or read or do anything right, and we'll just figure out how to get rid of this thing." Stiles climbed the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, an action that usually tickled you or made you think of a spider and generally earned a laugh from you. He couldn't leave for Eichen without seeing you smile one last time first. "It'll be okay, I promise."

You closed your eyes, hoping it would seal in the tears. It didn't. You felt your bony elbows dig into your knees, as you buried your head in your hands, shaking your head back and forth. "I'm just scared. I don't want to lose you or this, or us..."

Stiles wrapped his arms and legs around your folded up body, and rested his head against your upper back, feeling your y/e/c hair tickling his nostrils. He smoothed your hair against your back with his cheek, and closed his eyes. "This isn't goodbye to us, or love, or anything. It's just a preca-"

"What if they don't let you out?" You cut him off, panic seeping through your words.

"Then you and Scott and Isaac and Allison and Lydia and my Dad will break me out. It'll be okay. They can't keep me. I'm not crazy... I don’t think." Stiles said before practically falling forward as you rose from the bed and walked over to the open space of his bedroom. He watched you begin to pace, trying to find the words that would convince him to stay, but he got up to stand in front of you, and interrupted your thoughts before you could ever even form a coherent sentence. "It's what's right, babe. Don't worry about me being in there, worry about trying to fix what's in my head."

You shook your head, blotchy patches scattered across your face as you fought tooth and nail not to cry. Stiles was the one who was possessed, so he needed you to be the strong one this time. "I'm just, what if it takes apart your head before I do, and it just... chews you up and swallows you whole before I figure any of this out. I would never be able to live with myself, I would never be able to let it go or you go. I'd never move on. I'd spend the rest of my days trying to get you back, while everyone else would probably hav-"

Stiles cut you off from your rambling when he pressed his normally soft, but now somewhat chapped and cracked pink lips to yours. Your feet followed his movements naturally, and suddenly, Stiles had you pushed up against the wall between to his bedroom door and his closet. His lips moved against yours, as his hands gripped your hip and the back of your neck. A soft thud echoed through the room as your body met the wall. The thud was replaced with soft moans as Stiles slipped his tongue into your mouth and your hands ran up into his thick brown hair. You melted into his hold, and calmed down as he continued kissing you. Slowly, Stiles began to separate from you, stepping back just far enough that he could get a good look at if there was a change in your overall demeanor. It seemed slightly better.

"You were spiraling a little, bear." He whispered, a melancholy look on his face.

You returned the smile, a bit more genuinely happy than his. He gave you the nickname when you were little kids, you didn't even remember why at this point, but it always made you smile. "I could feel it happening, and I just couldn't stop it." You cracked a mediocre joke, but Stiles laughed. He was relieved that you were relaxing a little. He went to walk over to his desk to slip his shoes back on, but you grabbed at his muted navy blue and white zip up hoodie. "Wait, no."

Stiles turned back to you and sighed. "Bear... come on."

You shook your head and stepped forward to wrap your hands underneath his sweatshirt, gripping at his dark gray t-shirt around his back. "I know, I just, just a minute more." You asked, and Stiles, with his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, wrapped his sweatshirt around your body, hugging you tight against him. His body temperature was a little cooler than usual, so he drank in your warmth.

"Okay, baby, just a few minutes more." He pressed a few long kisses onto the top of your head and you nuzzled your cheek against his chest. Your moment was finally interrupted by a knocking on the door.

"Kids, it's time to go. We told them we'd get there around eight." Noah peeked his head through the door and frowned when he saw Stiles comforting you. The Sheriff understood your agony and guilt for not being able to stop Stiles from admitting himself into the infamous institution.

Stiles nodded, but didn't release you from his warm embrace yet. "I'll be down in a couple of minutes, Dad." Noah simply nodded and closed the door, leaving you to your goodbyes. "Bear, it's time." Stiles whispered into your ear, followed by a long kiss against your temple. You nodded and the two of you finally separated. "Visiting hours start at one, so just come after school and we'll have a few hours to dig through the books and the internet together. Deal?" He asked, glancing up as he tied the laces on his white and green Adidas.

"Last period is free, so I'll rush straight over." You told him.

Stiles smiled, as he beckoned you to come sit on his lap. His desk chair swiveled ever so slightly as you sat down. He wrapped one hand across both of your thighs, keeping you tight against him, and the other reached up to caress your cheek. "I need you to trust me now, bear. It will be okay. I'll be safe. You'll be safe. We'll get through this." You nodded, sadness evident in your eyes. "I love you."

"So much?"

Stiles couldn't help but snicker quietly and smile genuinely over you invoking a little tradition of yours. "Too much." He replied, as he always did.

"I love you too." You said, instead of your next usual line. You dipped your head in once more and kissed him. He squeezed you, as your soft lips tugged at his dry ones. He adored you more than you knew, and letting go felt impossible. He knew if he didn't pull away now, he never would go to Eichen. So, he parted from your embrace.

"Alright, baby. It's really time, this time." He scooped you up, carried you the few steps over, and placed you on his bed, trying to memorize what your y/h/c hair looked like against his blue plaid sheets. He grabbed his backpack full of underwear, socks, sweats and t-shirts off of the floor and slung it over his shoulder. He watched your eyes fill with tears and he sent you a lopsided frown. "Stay here as long as you need to, little bear, but if you leave before my Dad gets back, can you lock up?" You nodded, sitting up on the bed to watch him, as he stepped towards the door. "You can sleep here if you want though. My dad doesn't ever mind."

"I'm sure he doesn't want to have to worry about me too, Sti. I'm gonna head home in a little." He nodded, and placed his hand on the door knob.

"Alright. Goodnight, Y/n." He quirked his eyebrows up, while pushing his fists down against his hoodie pockets. "You need to sleep tonight. Someone’s gotta be fresh for tomorrow, and god knows it won’t be me." You nodded. "Love you." He said, as he pulled the door open.

"Wait!" His heart shattered a little thinking that you were still trying to keep him there. "Your pillow. You forgot your pillow."

Stiles turned and smiled, backing into the hallway. "I didn't forget it. Not sleeping, remember? You take it home. It probably smells like me. Maybe it'll help you sleep."

"Okay. Just let me know when you want it, and I'll bring it." Stiles nodded, and waited, hoping you'd say it back. You sighed. "Love you back."

And just like that, he was gone. You watched the Sheriff's car pull down the street from his window and then grabbed your phone out of your pocket. You pressed the contact info for the number two in your 'Favorites' and waited for the call to connect.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Scott, I need to tell you where Stiles is going. Maybe you can stop him."

Scott went to Eichen and caught Stiles and the Sheriff before they made it through the security gates. It was no use though, the moment Stiles had managed to leave you, his mind was made up. He was determined not to hurt anyone else. 

They wouldn’t let you see him the next afternoon; citing that visiting hours had been canceled for the day, but refusing to tell you why. Then he somehow escaped from the old institution. 

You and Deaton and Chris Argent scowered books and the internet, trying to find anything that would lead you all in the direction of saving Stiles and defeating the trickster. There was a lead on a scroll, but it offered so little and the inscription was so cryptic, you continued searching for another way. When the Nogitsune sent out the swarm of flies, targeting the werewolves and creating a distraction, you went to Scott and tried to keep the focus on saving Stiles.

"Call Peter, call Deaton, I don't care what's happening with the rest of them right now. I’m sure that Allison and Kira have it under control, but you and I don't have the slightest idea as to what to do next."

"Y/n, we should go help Allison and Kira first." Scott reasoned, trying to move to get you to turn around from your drive to the animal clinic, but you wouldn't hear it.

"They have it, Scott! They're fucking strong, okay? Stiles isn't! We don't even know where he is!"

"Y/n, pull over." Scott put his hand on your wrist, trying to cajole you into letting him drive. You were too upset, and you were scaring him.

"No!" You yanked your wrist out of his hold and felt the car swerve slightly with your movement. "I'm fine. Just call them.... Please." You looked over at Scott, deep concern set into his brown eyes. "Please, Scott. I, I just can't shake this little feeling that I'll never get anything right without Stiles' help, so I need them. I need their separate expertise. Please just, just call them." He nodded finally.

"Um, hold on, Lydia's calling me." Scott answered the call and you tried to watch him as much as you were watching the road, curious about what your banshee friend had found. "Hey Lyds, what's up-" Scott paused. "What?"

"What?" You asked, enraptured by his surprise. "What is it?"

"Yea, take him to my house. My mom is there already, and we'll be right there with Deaton. I'll call Peter." He hung up, and realized that you had pulled over finally. "Lydia and Aiden found Stiles. We have to get Deaton and head back to my house." Before Scott could finish his sentence, he was thrown back by the momentum of the car accelerating suddenly. You zipped through the streets to Peter's home with purpose.

"Call Peter then! Damnit, Scott, I'm not going to kill us. I've never even gotten a speeding ticket." You yelled, not meaning to be short with him, but not being able to help yourself.

Scott dialed Peter and while he waited for it to ring, he turned to you. "Just to be clear, you've never gotten a speeding ticket because you're dating the Sheriff's son, not because you don't speed like a maniac." You rolled your eyes and raced through traffic.

You stood behind the group, next to Lydia, watching as Dr. Deaton pulled a brown vial out of his bag. He poured an eye dropper of a liquid into Stiles' open mouth, while tightly gripping his jaw. The action roused him and his eyes shot open. He reached up for Aiden first, wrapping his large hand around Aiden's throat, and thrashing against the werewolves hold, until suddenly he let go.

Stiles' attention became directed at Deaton, waiting patiently in the middle of the living room, and he shook as his limbs relaxed into the cushions around him. "Kanima vemon. Nice touch."

With that, you understood that Lydia and Aiden had not found Stiles. It was fully the Nogitsune now. The thought made you want to vomit. You watched as the Nogitsune calmly taunted and threatened Aiden. Scott sent Aiden to the school to save Ethan from whatever fate the Nogitsune had planned out for him, and his aggressions were suddenly redirected on to the remainder of the group. But you stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, simply watching the demon's movements and listening to his threats.

"Doc, you brought something to paralyze his body. You got anything for his mouth?" You heard Melissa ask, fed up with the way he was controlling the conversation and holding everyone hostage in fear through his words.

"Yes, I do." Dr. Deaton nodded once, before ripping apart a piece of duct tape long enough to cover Stiles' lips. The Nogitsune chuckled as Deaton approached, but the moment the tape covered his face, he screamed. It quickly devolved into a malevolent giggle. You wondered if Stiles was even remotely still in there.

Deaton, Lydia and Scott gathered in the kitchen discussing the game plan, while you stood on the periphery of the room, arms folded across your chest, your back leaning against the wall, as you watched Melissa try to mend the healing wound on Stiles' abdomen. Suddenly, Stiles' entire body language changed. He trembled and his eyes welled up with tears.

"Stiles?" Melissa asked, seeing the change in demeanor as well. He nodded, his brow furrowed heavily.

You weren't convinced, however. "Melissa, I wouldn't.."

Melissa glanced behind her at you, then looked at Stiles, his lashlines brimming with tears, threatening to spill over at any moment. She pulled the tape off of his face, and watched sadly as a tear finally spilled over on to his cheek. He went from devastated and scared, to cocky and disappointed in less than a second, and you knew you were right.

The Nogitsune shook his head and wrinkled his forehead in fake surprise. "Really, Melissa?" He asked. "I shed one tear? That's all it takes? Come on now, you can't crumble that easily. You should've listened to Y/n. I don't think I've fooled her once yet." He smirked at you from across the room. "At least not today."

The Nogitsune threatened to expose the truth about Scott's dad, angering Melissa, who simply shook her head and tried to feign a ferocity that she just didn't actually have in her in that moment. "This isn't you, Stiles." She tried to get him to stop by appealing to the boy inside.

"It is now." He shook his head with a grin. 

"Melissa, put the tape back on." You grumbled, sick of hearing the voice you loved come from that creature. Melissa nodded and pressed the tape back against his mouth.

You gave Melissa a break from watching the Nogitsune, while in the kitchen, Scott, Lydia and Deaton discussed what to do next, while Stiles' body was still paralyzed. You sat in the chair in the corner of the room, in a bit of a staring contest with the creature who looked like the person you were certain, even at sixteen, was the love of your life. He moved slower and more deliberate than Stiles. The air seemed thicker and flat in his presence. You weren't sure why, but to you, there was an almost palpable difference. His eyes were telling too. They darted around the room with purpose, always looking for the advantage, whereas Stiles' always moved with curiosity and wonder, always looking for his loved ones. 

The Nogitsune nodded you towards him, but you didn't budge. He dropped his jaw slightly, and quirked an eyebrow up, trying to appear submissive and trying to entice you over to him. Your curiosity got the better of you finally and you spoke softly. 

"What?"

He darted his eyes down to his mouth, and you shook your head. 

"Not gonna happen." You scowled at him. 

He mumbled something against the tape, and you simply shook your head, until he lifted his arm and peeled the tape away himself. Your eyes grew wide and you rose from your seat slowly, waiting to see if he would move and if you would have to scream for help. He simply watched you from across the room with a devilish smirk. You approached cautiously and sat on the coffee table in front of him, a hand pressed against the smooth wood behind you, and the other relaxed in your lap. He stayed resting against the couch cushions, eyes locked on your person. 

"How long have you been able to move?" The Nogitsune shrugged, playing coy. "What do you want?"

"You aren't like the others. You aren't afraid of me like they are. I assumed you, of all, would struggle with an evil entity possessing the boy you love." The Nogitsune spoke calmly, quietly, and arrogantly. 

"My Dad wasn't the greatest man in the world." You told the Nogitsune what you were sure he already knew. "It takes a little more than a bug wrapped in gauze hiding in a boy to scare me." 

A wide grin spread across his face. "Ah yes, the mean Daddy..." He taunted, fake pouting at you. "Ooh, Stiles doesn't like me talking to you about this." 

You tried to hide the fact that him mentioning Stiles made you perk up a bit. He had your attention. "He's in there still?"

"Where else would he be, little bear?" The corners of his mouth twitched up when you reacted. He spoke quietly as to not attract the attention of the others. "He said he likes your sweater."

You narrowed your eyes at the Nogitsune, and then began shaking your head. "Fuck you. That's not... Just stop." You stared at him, calm and observant. You tried to move your hand quietly through Deaton's medical bag behind you on the table. Your fingers worked through the bag slowly, trying to identify the vial of kanima venom. Positively identifying and grabbing it was the first hurdle, figuring out how to get it in his mouth without him hurting you was something you'd worry about in five minutes. "You're being honest with me, aren't you?" You spoke to him, trying to keep his eyes focused on yours, instead of your hand. He nodded again. "Do you even know how to tell the truth, fox?" You asked, seething through your teeth at the last word. The Nogitsune blinked slowly and nodded. 

"He thinks you look beautiful, even though you clearly didn't sleep." He told you.

You shut your eyes for a moment, letting Stiles' words seep into your brain. It sounded like him. He would say something so goofy, and not something like 'I love you.' to let you know that he was okay. Stiles wouldn't want the Nogitsune to get to say 'I love you' to you, at least not from him. You sighed, and then refocused the subtle scowl onto your face. "Tell him I'm coming for him." 

The Nogitsune rubbed his tongue across the fronts of Stiles teeth, while grinning. He liked playing this game with you. "I get why he cares about you the way he does. The two of you were clearly made for each other. Sneaky little detectives."

You tried to fight the blush rising to your cheeks. You weren't sure if you had just been caught. "What are you talking about?"

"I've been playing nice so far because you intrigue me, and I may need your help yet, but if you think you are dosing me with more kanima venom, you are grossly overestimating your importance to me." His face grew serious, and you felt a chill move down your spine. A soft clunking noise came from behind you as you released the glass vial back into Deaton's bag. "Can you hear them, little bear?" The Nogitsune asked you, slightly tilting his head to the side and staring at you deep in your y/e/c.

"Don't fucking call me that." You seethed.

"Don't get distracted now, little bear. They're talking about you." He divulged, an eyebrow quirked up, pushing wrinkles onto his forehead. You grew silent, shifting your focus to the muffled conversation in the kitchen, wondering how he could hear them better. He finally leaned forward, shakily. You wondered if he only just now regained more control of his body. "I'll whistle if they're about to catch you." He grinned, and you scoffed, but then sighed. 

"Fuck." You got up and tip-toed towards the doorframe, separating the kitchen and the living room. You knew that the conversation must have been intense, otherwise Scott would've been paying attention enough to hear you lurking on the other side of the wall. 

"Scott, we have to try." Lydia reasoned. “Y/n will never forgive us if we don’t try.”

"You think I don't know that? I'm just saying, Derek and Peter may not be as willing to exhaust every option before we get... there."

"We also don't know if the scroll will even work..." Deaton spoke up. 

"But if it does..." Scott countered. 

"They are linked now, very linked. Stiles may still die anyway." Deaton told the truth.

Your head whipped around to look at The Nogitsune still resting on the couch. He looked up at you from under his dark lashes and tilted his head. You knew he was telling you, 'I told you so.' You padded quietly back over to him and waited for him to speak, not able to trust what your voice would divulge about what you were thinking or feeling in that moment: sheer terror and panic. "Are you going to let them kill me? Me and Stiles?" He asked, a knowing smirk resting on his lips suddenly. You were clearly still playing his game. 

"What am I supposed to do?" You whispered. 

His gaze moved from you to Deaton's bag on the table. "The vet has a four day supply of lichen in there, and at least a vile more of kanima venom. I'll give you Stiles back for the night, if you get us out of here and hide us. You can't tell anyone where we are going; somewhere with mountain ash preferably." He glanced back up at you, waiting. "Stiles is running out of time. Peter is already on his way here. He is another foot under the ground every minute you stand there contemplating."

He was right. You watched the door to the kitchen as you reached into Deaton's bag for the syringe and lichen mixture. He held his left arm out for you. You slipped the needle under his skin, and pushed down the plunger; watching the neon green liquid empty into the veins on the underside of his forearm. You waited, what felt like a decade, but was truly only moments. 

"Y/n?" Stiles demeanor changed drastically. "Baby, you shouldn't have done that..." 

"Can you walk?" You asked, zipping the bag back up. 

Stiles lifted his right leg slightly. "I think so, but Y/n, we-"

"If you love me at all, you will not argue, you will just get up. Right now. Please, Stiles. They're going to kill you."

Stiles' face was racked with guilt and fear. His golden amber eyes met yours and he nodded. "Let's go."

A second part to come...

@ninja-stiles @lightbreaksthrough @maddie110201 @hattyohatt @stilinski-stydia-obrien @jolomez @fuckwhateverfuck @iknowisoundcrazy @fox-lau @leilaelizabeth @5secsxofamnesia @awkwarddly @daddyxraeken @completebandgeek @chivesoup @ivette29 @sunshineystilinski @vmach29 @theneverendingracetrack @dailyburritos @spooky-stiles @im-very-odd33 @amethystmerm4id @anonimereader06 @sp00der-m00n @ellie-bee242 @nocturnalzeal @sumcp @gluetwentyfourobrien @stopit-ihateyou @wittystiles @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @lovefilledtragedy @r0s3mm @loveforbrains @arikachang @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @susybird @omgimafuckingmermaid @inkedaztec @cafe-a-sabor-chocolate @shareece-erica @xmadwonderland @afraidofyourownminddrreid @behind-my-hazeleyes27 @itsamberh @nowthisiswaar @parislight @imjustakilljoybaby @dylanobemineforever @fckingnostalgia

[mf-despair-queen]

No Strings Attached- Stiles Stilinski

Author: @mf-despair-queen​

Characters: Stiles Stilinski/Reader

Word Count: 12,357

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral (Both Receiving), Stiles’ large dick, Stiles being a fucking idiot, Clumsy Stiles, Sappy Sex, Sappy moments, just generally really romantic and fluffy sex

Notes: So like, this was for @fillthevoid-stilinski‘s writing challenge and I really hope I didn’t disappoint Em with this because I didn’t wanna do something cliche considering the prompt was “What Happened to the no strings attached concept?” If y’all hate it, I’m sorry :’) I’m really scared of how this came out...

“Scott, I swear this case has everything to do with something supernatural.” Stiles paused, listening to his friend talk through the receiver. “What do you mean you doubt it? Dude, you saw the picture I sent you right? Every single person killed has had the same mark. It’s not a coincidence.” He paused again. “Ten people, Scott. Ten people with the exact same tattoo? I asked the only tattoo artist in this small town and he’s never seen it before. It has to be a pack symbol.”

Stiles sighed to himself, sitting on a rock, glancing at his surroundings. He was wandering in the woods outside the small town in Colorado, the crisp leaves crunching under his feet whenever he took another step. He was looking for clues not far from the most recent crime scene, his colleagues investigating the body of the young man that was chopped to bit. It was hard to believe he was finally a full-fledged FBI agent, traveling the states on different missions. He had thought his life would be more different than it was in high school, escaping Beacon Hills and the supernatural world that inhabited it.

But no. He always seemed to get stuck on cases that dealt with the alternate world he was thrown into at the tender age of sixteen.

“Scott, I’m not losing my mind of this,” he mumbled to his friend, sighing loudly. “Are you sure you don’t know of any pack that lives in Colorado? You’re the one that went on a cross-country crusade to stop Monroe so you’re the only one I can think of that would know someone out here.” He stopped talking, biting at his lip in frustration. “Alright, alright. I get it. I’ll keep you updated. It doesn’t look like Monroe’s work since they are literally hacked up and their back has the carving of two like… arches with a line between them and two little dots on that line. It’s like an oval that is spliced by the line and the dots are in the middle of the oval. But I know it’s not her, but I will find out why someone is hunting the supernatural down here.” He paused, groaning. “Yes, it is supernatural! Bye Scott!”

He hung up, picking himself up off the rock he had perched himself on, wandering further into the woods. Stiles fumbled to unbutton the top button of his burgundy button up, letting out a deep breath when he felt he could finally breathe properly. The late-summer Colorado heat was getting to him and he regretted dressing up the way he normally did when he was in the field. Rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, he trudged through the trees, finding nothing that could help him.

“How the hell am I supposed to solve this if it is supernatural?” He asked himself, running his hand through his spiky quiff of hair. “No one will understand. And how the fuck do I explain the reason these people are targeted is because they do things no other people can?” The spastic boy let out a huff, kicking at the dirt and rocks under his feet. “Fuck! Why is this my luck? Why!”

He went to kick the ground again in his frustration, finding himself tumbling down a nearby hill when his feet slipped from under him. He landed with a grunt in a pile of leaves, mud and leaves straining his pressed shirt and jeans, twigs sticking up from his hair. His back ached in pain from how he landed, Stiles sure he was going to wake up with bruises tomorrow.

“Well, that was smart, Stiles,” he muttered to himself, rubbing at his face. “Really smooth. I thought we were passed this clumsy stage of your life.”

“Obviously you aren’t,” a voice cut through the air, breaking Stiles from his daze. His eyes snapped open, his hands moving so he could stare at the figure above him. His honey-brown orbs dilated, taking in a ray of sunlight before focusing on your eyes staring down at him. His mouth dried instantly, his jaw going slack. He admired your beauty silently. The way your hair draped over your shoulders, the sparkle behind your eyes, the plump lusciousness of your lips, the faint blush that spread over your cheeks. The tops of your breasts slightly spilled out from your tank top, the vibrant blue lace peeking over the hem line. Your hands were on your knees, your ass sticking out in your bent over state, but Stiles could see how perfectly round it was. He licked at his lips, trying to ease the dry sensation, though it seemed to be failing. “What are you doing here anyway? This is private property.”

Stiles chuckled aloud unconsciously, his hand ruffling his hair. “Haven’t I heard that before?” He saw your head cock to the side in confusion, his face flushing with embarrassment. “I-I mean…”

“I really don’t care,” you stated bluntly, a dull look on your face. “I just want you off my property.”

Stiles rolled onto his stomach, lifting himself to his feet slowly. You stood in front of him, shorter than him, arms crossed over your chest. He attempted to dust off his pants, clearing his throat. “I um… I’m Mieczyslaw Stilinski. I’m with the FBI and we are here-“

“I know why you are here,” you cut him off. “I also already knew who you are.” You held up his wallet, his ID and badge visible to him. He pat his pocket, realizing it had been missing.

“How did you…”

“You’re easy to pickpocket,” you retorted, handing him back his wallet. “I don’t know anything about the murders. I don’t know the people that got murdered. I rarely go into town. So, you have no business being here. Can you please leave?”

Stiles’ brow furrowed, looking you up and down. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing,” you sneered, glaring at him. “I just want you off my fucking property.”

You turned to walk away, his arm darting out to grab your wrist. “Who are you? You know something about what is going on, so please tell me what you know. If you don’t, I will have to come back with a warrant and I know you don’t want that. Please answer me.” Your head snapped back at him, growling slightly, your eyes flashing a dangerous shade of crimson. Stiles’ eyes widened, slowly releasing his hold on your wrist. “You’re an alpha…”

You chuckled coldly, beginning to walk away from him. “Alpha? Don’t make me laugh. I’m not some stupid wolf. I guess I’m the equivalent of though.” You stopped walking, looking back at him. “How does a human like yourself know about the supernatural?”

“A few years’ experience, I guess,” the spastic male said, his tone slightly bitter at the thought of his best friend. “If you’re supernatural, you must have some information. Please, I could really use your help.”

“I’m not interested in helping the police,” you said quietly, though Stiles could feel deep inside that you weren’t being truthful.

“Why are you lying to me?” He asked, hesitantly stepping forward. “Why won’t you help us? Whoever is doing this is terrorizing your home. Why won’t you do anything about it?”

“Mr. Stilinski, with all due respect, you know nothing about me. My kind are very solitary people. I want nothing to do with anyone. I’m sorry that they died but this has nothing to do with me.”

Stiles frowned, glancing down at the ground. He processed your words, sighing loudly. “Please, I’m begging you. All I’m asking is for a little bit of help. You know this area, you know the pack that is being killed. I’m not asking for you to drop everything and help us find the unsub. All I’m asking is for a bit of knowledge. A bit of insight on what is happening. Because I know how this goes. No one else on my team knows about werewolves, or banshees or hell, I’m sure even vampires exist! But if I’m not careful, they will die. This person, or people maybe, they are capable of killing of werewolves. I’m here to stop them without losing anyone else. So, I ask one last time. Will you please help me?”

You looked back at him, seeing the conviction in his face. His heartbeat was steady, telling you that he meant every word. You bit your bottom lip, your heart speeding up with anxiety and fear. “Stilinski…”

His phone suddenly rang, him holding up a finger. “Just… don’t leave yet.” He pulled the black phone from his pocket, pressing it to his ear. “Stilinski. Yeah, sorry.” He stopped, his eyes widening. “What the hell you found three more bodies? Have we even gotten an ID on the last one we found?”

Your eyes widened. Three more people dead. Your heart clenched, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Ryan Harper?” He said, glancing over at you. He noticed you stiffen, taking a deep breath. “Alright. Keep looking and text me any details. I will meet you back at the police station in a bit.” He hung up, pocket his phone, rushing over to you. “Hey, you alright?”

You nodded slowly, hugging yourself tighter. “If I agree to help you, we need to set some rules, alright?” You told him abruptly, Stiles looking taken aback by your statement.

“I… yeah, yeah. Completely. Totally. Whatever it takes to stop this guy,” he rambled. You sighed, your tense body rushing away.

“Meet me at my house in five.”

He watched you retreat, a million questions rushing through his mind. He wondered what caused the sudden change in your mannerisms. Was it because of him? Or the fact that three more bodies were found? Was it the man Ryan Harper they identified? Stiles wasn’t sure what it was, but his heart swelled at the fact that you agreed to help. His feet moved without him thinking, following in the direction that you disappeared to moments earlier.

The door was open when he arrived at the worn down wooden cabin, finding you sitting atop an old couch that squeaked under your weight. He closed the door carefully, afraid it would fall if he was too rough with it. You glanced at him, gesturing to the blue lounge chair across from you. He smiled in thanks, sitting down slowly.

“Let’s cut to the chase, Stilinski,” you started, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not the most social person. I don’t want to get close to you or close to anyone in the town. If I’m going to help you, I am going to help and that is that. Got it?” Stiles remained silent, a sign that he was listening and agreeing. “I don’t want to help the police because I don’t want to risk getting close to anyone. But I will help because this is my home. If this person is coming after supernatural, naturally they will come after me, right?”

“Most likely,” Stiles said, leaning back in the chair, kicking one leg over his knee. Your eyes narrowed at him, annoyance written on your face at the idea of him getting comfortable. “So far it’s just this one pack as far as I know. And the only reason I believe that is they have the same pack symbol on their body. I don’t know if there is more besides you and this pack, but my guess is they are going after all supernatural creatures in this town.”

“Exactly,” you told him, leaning forward on your knees. Your stomach churned, licking at your lips.

“Why did you agree to help?” He asked, playing with his fingers. “It’s not just about saving your own skin.” He saw the hard look on your face, interlocking in fingers in thought. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You know, I may live alone and don’t interact with anyone, but this is my home. I was born and raised here. The last thing I want is to see more people dying because they had no choice in what they were. No one in that pack is bitten. They were all born werewolves. They protect this town for the most part. Why are they being punished for that?”

Stiles ignored the “for the most part” aspect of your statement, knowing he would be risking your cooperation if he pried too early, or even at all. He made a mental note of it, however, never forgetting what you said. “I can’t answer that now, but I will find out why. And I will stop this guy, whoever he is.” He slid forward, hesitating briefly before taking you hand in his. “I promise. I understand what it means to protect a town. I will do everything in my power to help.”

You glanced up at him, cracking a small smile. “Thanks, Mieczyslaw.”

The brown-haired male chuckled, running his thumb over your knuckle. “She smiles. Imagine that.” You glared at him slightly at his words. “I’m kidding. And if it’s easier, call me Stiles. That’s what I prefer.”

“I like that. Stiles,” you repeated, Stiles’ body heating up when his name rolled off your tongue. “I’m Y/N.”

“Beautiful,” he mumbled, though he knew deep down your trained ears heard him clearly. “So. Not getting close. I get that. You help us stop this guy by providing any information you can. But what can I do for you in return? You’re helping in an FBI investigation. What can I do for you in return for your help?”

“Nothing.”

“What?” He asked confused at your single worded answer. “Nothing? How is that fair to you?”

“I want my home safe, Stiles. That’s all I need,” you told him, standing from your seat and heading for the window. You leaned on the frame, staring out the dirty glass. “Have you ever heard of doing something with no strings attached?”

“Honestly, the only no strings attached I think of is the kind I saw in movies when people fuck without developing feelings for each other, not wanting to be tied down in a relationship,” he uttered seriously, a small chuckle amidst his words. You laughed a bit at his answer, shaking you head.

“I guess that’s one way to look at it,” you laughed at him, Stiles cracking a large smile at the noise. “No strings attached is more like… I don’t need anything in return. My help is free of charge. I want to help, but I don’t want to risk being close to you. Or tying you down to some debt you might owe me. I don’t need money, I don’t need friendship. I want you out as soon as possible.”

Stiles sighed, lifting himself from the chair. “Fine. It’s a deal. From this moment on, we are professional colleagues. No relationship passed that. You help us, no strings attached.” He walked over, sticking out his hand to you. “Deal?”

You looked between his hand and his face, slowly reaching out to shake it. “Deal.”

The silence was thick, the tension palpable as you sat on the couch looking through photos and reports with the Stilinski boy. He was perched on the floor across the table from you, two pens behinds his ears, one in his mouth, and one scrawling what seemed to be gibberish on a notepad. His eyes scanned over the various photos in front of him haphazardly, but he held the same look of determination you came to recognize daily.

Roughly a week you found yourself waking up to the agent pounding on your door, bundles of papers in his arms, ready to enlist your help in trying to figure out what was happening and why. It was always quiet between the two of you, though you always caught him sparing a glance at you every so often, his honey brown eyes turning away in fear of you catching him. Occasionally he would drag you off the couch and through the woods, telling you that you were going to find more evidence hopefully.

You never did.

Stiles’ brow furrowed, placing the papers in his hands on the table. The pen dropped from his mouth into his lap, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I don’t get it,” he mumbled, placing the notepad on the table and standing from his sitting position. His hand ran through his hair, his back muscles flexing in the blue button up he chose to wear. You watched him silently, confused as to what he was mumbling to himself.

You picked up his notepad, scanning over the gibberish of his notes in hopes to figure it out without having to outright ask. Something about the man set you awry, making your stomach churn in ways you weren’t sure how to judge. Even in the silent times you had spent with him, you deduced a lot of the man. He was definitely passionate about trying to help, just as he had promised he would. He didn’t like to give up. But he was growing agitated but the day that he was no closer to finding the killer.

You couldn’t blame him. You were getting frustrated as well. But it was more that he wouldn’t really tell you anything. Maybe it was your own doing and you not really asking for more ways to help. You feared talking to the Stilinski boy, afraid of what would come if you dd. Every time you opened your mouth to say something, it immediately shut, you heart hammering in your chest. And it irked you more than you didn’t know why. Maybe it was the couple times he would dare pop a question about your personal life, though he hadn’t done that in two days. Maybe he finally got the hint when you shut him down every single time.

Your eyes finally stopped on the small drawing he kept repeating in the corner of every paper he scribbled on. “Stiles?” You finally spoke up, catching his attention. You pointed to the symbol, the circle with a dark black dot on the right and left side of it. “Is this on everyone you’ve found?”

“Yeah, it has been. What do you know about it?” He asked, his eyes narrowing on your form as he scratched at his chin in thought. “I figured it was their pack symbol since everyone had it…”

“Well, you aren’t wrong,” you mumbled, Stiles hearing every word clearly from across the room. “It represented the full moon. They weren’t the… most controlled on full moons back in the day from what I heard. So, it was supposed to be a reminder that the full moon doesn’t control them.”

Stiles nodded, glancing at the symbol. “You know an awful lot about this.” You stilled, placing the notepad on the table slowly. “It’s not because you’re part of their pack. So how do you know about it?”

You played with your fingers, not glancing at him. “I thought we agreed on no personal questions, Stilinski.”

“Yeah, but that was before I learned that you know more than I originally thought. I knew you had information, but you knew these people. How do you know them? Do you know who would be attacking them? What relationship did you have with them? Does it have to do with Ryan-“

Your head snapped up at him, your eyes flashing their red color at him. “This has nothing to do with that bastard!”

Stiles sighed, taking careful steps towards you, daring himself to take a seat next to you. With a shaky hand, he reached for your own, his large, veiny one enveloping yours completely. “You know you can tell me. Nothing will change from you telling me.”

You sighed, watching his fingers rub your skin. The feeling was soothing and felt right to you. “It’s not that easy.”

“Does this have to do with why you don’t like getting close to people? Why you wanted a strictly professional relationship on this?” You spared a single glance at him, your mouth staying tightly shut. “You fight having any personal relationships. I understand that your kind is supposed to be solitary, as you put it, but you can’t shelter yourself from everything.”

“What do you know, Stiles?” You sneered. “You know nothing about these parts. You know nothing about me.”

“Because you’re still human too. And us as humans crave some form of interaction in some way,” he stated quietly, giving your hand a small squeeze. “You think you’re a monster and you’re not. It’s ok to feel.” He watched quietly, awaiting a response, his moon taking a downturn when he not none. “Maybe you should go rest for a bit. I’m gonna look for some more clues now that I know a bit more about their pack and I will be back. And how about I bring some Chinese take-out?”

“What?” You asked, looking at him. He had this stupid smile on his face and you had to fight your own smile from plastering itself on your cheeks. “I thought we agreed that I didn’t need anything in return for your help.”

“It’s not in return for your help. We just need dinner if we are going to go over more photos and reports when I return,” he laughed, poking your nose. “No ifs, ands or buts about it. I’m craving some chow mien and we have work to do. You need a nap.”

Stiles placed a quick kiss to your cheek before removing himself from the couch and grabbing his gun, which you always insisted he leave by the door, and jacket, slipping them on his body. He left before you could protest further, a hot blush spreading across your cheeks. You barely knew the man but he made you feel flustered, a feeling you hadn’t felt in years. You ran your fingers over your face, sighing into your palms. Picking yourself up from the cushions, you made your way down the hall to your room, collapsing on the bed.

“What are you doing to me, Mieczyslaw Stilinski?” You asked yourself, letting your eyes close. I told myself I would never feel again after him…

Stiles struggled to open the door with the bags of Chinese food in his hands but never gave up in his endeavor. The door was kicked shut noisily behind him when he finally shuffled through the frame, dropping the bags onto the table. The room was dark, the sun outside not lighting the tiny forest cabin like he was used to. Clicking on the flashlight on his phone, he found a few candles, lighting them till the room was lit enough that he could make out the furniture he was so used to.

He glanced around, seeing no sign of you, frowning slightly. “Y/N?” he called out, receiving no response. He checked the kitchen before wandering down the hall, cracking open each door to check. It wasn’t until he heard a small scream that his head snapped to the door at the end of the hall, his eyes narrowing and his hand reaching for his gun. “Y/N?”

The scream echoed through the house again, Stiles making his way to the room without hesitation. He pushed the door open, his ears prickling at the shrill squeak of the hinges.  His hand lowered from his gun when he saw your writhing on the bed, tears streaming down your face, another scream escaping your perfect lips. His eyes widened at the sight, almost tripping over his own feet when he stumbled forward.

“Y/N? He asked, crawling onto the bed with you, holding you flat to the mattress to keep from fighting at him. “Hey, wake up! Y/N, you’re having a nightmare. Wake. Up!” He tried to get across, but your eyes stayed glued shut. He frowned at the sight of you, his heart breaking into a million pieces. You were cold and unwilling to let him get close to you, but it still hurt him to see you hurting. He hated admitting openly that you intrigued him and he liked being around you. He felt drawn to you and he didn’t know why. “Shit, shit. What do I do?” He asked himself, running a hand through his hair.

He watched your mouth part, muttering to yourself. “No, don’t hurt them. Please. Ryan, stop.” Stiles’ brow furrowed, biting at his lip. Were you reliving something from your past? “Stop it. Stop it. STOP IT!”

Stiles was shocked when you fought against his hold more, his arms straining to keep you down. He licked at his lips, scanning your form. “Please don’t hate me,” he whispered before he leant down, placing his lips on yours. Your body stilled almost instantly, a stream of electricity flowing through both your bodies. His lips moved against yours softly till your eyes finally opened, staring up at him with blurry, tearful eyes.

“Stiles?” You asked when he backed away, panting slightly. He smiled slightly, though it disappeared when you placed a fierce slap to his cheek, succeeding in knocking him from the bed. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Ow! God, did you have to smack me that hard?” he grumbled, sitting up on the hard floor, rubbing his cheek. “Fuck, that hurt. Why do girls always slap me?”

“Well, when you are kissing them in their sleep, what do you expect?!”

“I wasn’t-“ he started, groaning to himself. “I just got back with dinner and you were having a nightmare! You wouldn’t wake up!”

“So, you kissed me?” You asked, feeling your face heating up.

“It calmed you down. You kept muttering about Ryan doing something. About him hurting someone…” he trailed off, his pupils dilating to focus on your downcast gaze, your eye wide with shock. “What did he do?”

“I can’t…”

“Y/N, I’m not going to judge you and I swear this will not affect our deal. No strings attached. I made a deal that you would help with no strings attached. I am not looking to fix you for whatever shit he pulled on you. But if you know something about him, maybe what he did in your past is why they are being targeted now,” he said, crawling to the edge of the bed, cautiously staring at you. “Please, tell me what happened.”

“You know, I thought about that actually. I’ve thought that for a while actually. Since you showed me the symbol that the killer leaves on all their bodies,” You told him, keeping your eyes on your hands in your lap. “It’s probably related.”

“So, you’ll share what you know?” he asked quietly.

“On one condition,” you mumbled, Stiles perking up at the noise. “We eat that Chinese you brought while I tell you about him. I’m famished.” Stiles grinned, jumping from the floor and holding his hand out to you. You cracked the slightest smile at the gesture, letting him help you from the bed and towards the living room where the food sat. You couldn’t shake one simple thought from your head with each step you took though.

The kiss he gave you made you feel alive.

Stiles sat himself on the couch, instantly digging into the cheap, white take-out carton of chow mien. You giggled to yourself, sitting cross-legged next to him and grabbing a carton of orange chicken, chewing on it slowly. You saw him glance at you occasionally, not wanting to pressure you into speaking.

“You were right you know,” you said, biting into the tasty breaded meat. He cocked his head to the side, question your statement. “I’m a lynx. Well, werelynx. Naturally, the lynx is solitary. But we are human as well. We don’t like to interact with people, but naturally, we desire some interaction outside of our tiny families. That’s when I met Ryan. He was… he was my everything.”

“You dated,” he uttered, slurping on his noodles. “Am I right?”

“It’s not really a surprise that you are an FBI agent, Stilinski,” you laughed, Stiles’ heart swelling at the sound. “We did date. For like, four or five years. My parents weren’t keen on our relationship, seeing as he was a werewolf. And his family didn’t have the cleanest record. They didn’t hurt anyone here but they migrated I guess you could say…”

“They left and hunted outside of your home?” He asked.

“Essentially, yes. They didn’t want to hurt anyone where so whenever they felt that they weren’t going to be able to control themselves on full moons, they left and attacked other small towns in neighboring states. I know it’s not the greatest still, but they didn’t want to harm their home. They wanted to protect everyone here.”

“But they attacked a town and someone found out and came after them?” He deducted, picking up carton of sweet and sour chicken. Your leg reached out, kicking him in the side. He let out a grunt, slightly choking on the chicken he was biting.

“Stop being a smarty, you stupid government agent person. I might have to kick your ass,” you whined at him. “Because yes, that’s what happened. A man named Seth had lost his family to them. Apparently, he had seen Ryan and his family completely tearing them to shreds from his tool shed. How the pack didn’t sniff him out, I don’t know. But Seth followed them back and decided he wanted revenge.”

“So, what happened?” Stiles asked, completely and deadly serious for once. It kind of scared you how serious he was about this.

“Seth killed my family instead,” you said shortly, Stiles frowning sadly at your words. “He found Ryan, cornered him with a shotgun to the head. Ryan pleaded apparently, apologizing and saying they would never do it again.” You paused, playing with the orange chicken in the cheap box in your hand. “And offered up my family as collateral. As retribution for what had happened. Ryan took me out that day and Seth killed my parents and little brother. When I returned home and found them, I went to Ryan because he had insisted on taking me out and I knew why. He didn’t want me hurt but he didn’t care about them. I haven’t talked to him since I broke his jaw.”

“Y/N…” Stiles tried to say, putting his food on the table.

“Please don’t say you’re sorry. That’s what everyone always says.” You stopped talking, wiping the tears on the long-sleeved shirt you were wearing. “That’s when I decided no more…”

“You decided you didn’t want to be close to anyone again,” Stiles finished for you. “You were hurt because you lost your family. You were hurt because you were betrayed. You didn’t want to feel that again, right?” You nodded, placing the carton down. Stiles turned his body to face yours, mimicking your position. His hands held yours gently, rubbing soft circles on the tops of them. “I won’t say I’m sorry. I know how it feels to lose family. To lose friends even. I know the pain. But you shouldn’t shut everyone out.”

“It’s just easier that way,” you mumbled.

Stiles smiled sadly, scooting closer on the couch so he could wrap his arms around you in a hug, letting the tears spill onto his partially unbuttoned shirt. His fingers rubbed your back soothingly, no words coming from his mouth. The silence was comforting though, not awkward by any means. For once in a long time, you didn’t feel alone. And you liked that feeling.

Stiles placed a kiss to your hairline, letting his face nuzzle into your hair. “It’ll be alright. If Seth is back, we will stop him. There must be a reason he is here. And if it’s not him, we will figure out why that guy is here.” He kissed your forehead against, hugging you close. The spot his lips were burned into your skin, a smile gracing your lips at the comforting feeling and the warmth he gave off.

“Right,” you told him, looking up at him. His eyes locked on yours, a glisten of hope and desire passing through his honey orbs. You leaned up, pecking him on the lips softly, your lips close to his when you pulled away. “Thank you, Stilinski. You’re not so bad you know.”

He licked at his lips slightly, his tongue swiping at yours as he did. He wanted to lean in for more, his body craved more. But he hesitated, unsure how you would react. You didn’t want this relationship with him and no matter how much he himself desired it and was willing to fight for it, he pulled away. He hated to say it but he was afraid of the reject he was sure he would get. He recalled the rejection from Malia when they broke up and the rejection from Lydia when she had decided to date Parrish over him, even after she helped rescue him from the Ghost Riders and they shared such an intimate moment in the locker room.

“You’re not too bad yourself. Now, shall we finish eating and get back to work? The sooner we stop this guy, the sooner I’m out of your hair, right?” Stiles missed the sad look pass over your face when he turned back to the food. You grabbed another box at random, opening it to the steamed rice.

“Right…”

You laid on your couch, deep in thought a few days later. It hurt to admit you were falling for this crazy human known as Stiles Stilinski. You felt like you were betraying yourself and the feelings you had fought to lock away. You feared being hurt again. It hurt enough when the man you thought and claimed to love so much betrayed you and killed off your family. It hurt even more when he left you standing there, his lame apology replaying in your head.

“I had to protect my family, Y/N!” He had screamed in your face, no sign of remorse evident anywhere. “They are my pack and they mean more to me than you do. You were nothing to me but a good in with the only other supernatural family in this spick of a town.”

“But Ryan. I love you so much,” you had tried to tell him, but his face remained stoic.

“Well, I don’t love you. So, do me a favor and leave us alone before something else happens. I care about you and don’t want to see you hurt. But I don’t want you around us anymore. Nothing good will come from it.”

You told yourself that he was protecting you and would come back. But he never did. If you passed him in town on food runs, he turned the other way, not even acknowledging your attempting to apologize for the disaster your life had become. You had given him everything only for him to betray your trust.  

Now, Stiles waltzed into your life and you were feeling complete once again. And you were scared. You didn’t want to get attached, especially knowing that he was only here because of this case he was working on. The moment they find the killer, he would be gone, leaving you all alone again. You didn’t want to get close, but at the same time, you wanted to.

Part of you regretted the bits of time you had spent with him since telling him about Ryan that night over his lame Chinese take-out. You often found yourselves sitting closer than normal on the couch or in your bed when it decided to rain outside and there was a chill in the air. You both shared details of your lives that you hadn’t shared with anyone, even Ryan when you were with him. He never judged you for anything he was told and he never pried when you didn’t want to go into details on some things. But he was always willing to listen, just as you listened to him. You loved hearing about the things he had been through and the wacky town of Beacon Hills he called home.

Every word that came out of his mouth made you fall for the chocolate-haired male more and more.

You were snapped from your thoughts when the door was kicked open and Stiles rolled on, literally. You sat up, watching him groan on your floor. “You tripped, didn’t you?”

“I swear I was passed this clumsy stage of my life. Otherwise they would not let me walk around with a loaded gun,” he grumbled, rolling over onto his stomach and pushing himself up. He rounded the side of the couch, perching himself on the edge and staring deep into your eyes. “So, I think I have a plan on how to catch this guy. But I need to know something.”

“Anything,” you found yourself saying, biting your lip when you realized you had. Stiles grinned a toothy grin, opening the messenger bag that he brought over. He dug out a manila envelope, handing it to you. You looked at him confused, his head just nodding at the folder. You found inside a collage of photos and a list of names. “I don’t get it, Stiles.”

“This is a list of everyone we have found that has been killed by this guy. What I’m thinking is… well, is there anyone left in Ryan’s pack that we can use to lure this guy out?” He asked. You scanned the list of names, biting at your lip.

“Unless they added new members since I last spoke to them, no,” you told him sadly. Stiles frowned, sighing. You glanced over the photos, staring at the circles carved into the backs of every dead wolf. “Hey Stiles. The symbol that the killer carved into their backs. Do you know what it means?”

He looked at you, taking the picture of your hand. “I guess so. I texted a picture of the symbol to Deaton but he said it’s not Celtic.”

“That’s the druid emissary, right?” You questioned, watching him nod. “Well, why use this particular symbol? It’s a moon glyph.”

“A what?”

“Moon glyph. It’s something my mom used to research. The same goes for the pack tattoo they used. It’s a moon glyph for the full moon. She suggested they use it. Let me…” you jumped off the couch, skimming over the spines of the books on the shelf in the corner. You pulled off an old, dusty blue book, flipping through the fragile papers. “Aha. I knew I had seen it before.” You curled up next to him on the floor, Stiles fighting the blush that threatened to arise. You pointed at the symbol in the book, looking at him. “See. It’s a sign of death.”

“So, they wanted someone to know they were here to kill them all?” He asked.

“Death to the pack? Or…” You swallowed thickly, closing the book. “Death to the supernatural?”

Stiles rubbed his chin, his brow knit together in thought. “Maybe it has to deal with Monroe…” You remember him telling you about the war with some high school counselor named Monroe while he was beginning his internship. She was building an army to fight the supernatural and his friend, Scott, had yet to find her and stop her after all this time. “Maybe she got to Seth and he wanted to end what he started?”

“Who knows…” You said aloud. You both sat in silence thereafter, trying to think of what to do. “Would you kill me if I said maybe I could be bait?”

“No. Absolutely not,” he replied quickly, standing from his seated position. “I am not risking your life to catch this guy. And we don’t even know if he is after you. For all we know, he was here for that pack and that was it. He could be long gone by now.”

“What other options do we have, Stiles? I know where they lived, you don’t. At least let me go and see what I can find there. Maybe if he sees me around there, he will think he needs to kill me too. Then you and your team can catch him.” Stiles stayed silent, his eyes glued on the wall. “What other option do we have?”

He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. “But I can’t lose you…”

“Stiles, remember. We had a deal-“

“Yeah, well fuck the deal!” He screamed suddenly, turning back to you. “Excuse me for developing feelings for you over this week and a half. Excuse me for not wanting to see you get hurt. Excuse me for caring about you when you don’t want to be cared for!” He took a deep breath, tugging at his hair. “I promised you that I would keep this professional and it’s so damn hard right now. Because I want to see you happy. I want to rebuild your broken heart because you don’t deserve to be unhappy. I want to love you because you deserve to be loved.”

“Stiles,” you started, swallowing thickly, “why?”

“I don’t know.”

“We had a deal, Stiles. We agreed that there would be no strings attached on this.”

“I know.”

“We agreed that you would not develop feelings. That I would not develop feelings. That we would not get close to each other.”

“I know.”

“We agreed that I wanted nothing in return for my help. No money, no relationship, no you trying to mend my forever broken soul!”

“I know, Y/N!”

“Then tell me why!” You cried at him. You didn’t realize with each statement, you had stepped towards him until you were slapping him across the face. He didn’t move an inch, his face hard. “What happened to the no strings attached concept? What changed? Why did you decide that I was worth your time? What happened to our deal, huh?!”

“That was before I started falling in love with you, ok?!” He yelled back. You were taken aback by his outburst, shrinking a bit under his gaze. “I didn’t mean to, ok? I tried. I tried so hard because I didn’t want you to run away. I needed the help on this case. But the more time I spent with you, the more I wanted to know who you were and why you were so closed off. Then you had the nightmare and I kissed you to calm you down… I felt the fireworks from that kiss. I don’t know if you did too, but it was the most magical thing in the world. And I’ve kissed like… four other girls, ok? I’ve never felt that before. Then you started to finally pen up and… God, you are just so amazing. And I don’t feel bad for the things you’ve been through. I feel bad that you had no one to care for you when it happened. You don’t deserve to be alone. You don’t need to be alone.”

The tears leaked freely down your cheeks hearing his words. You pounded weakly on his chest, his arms wrapping around you no matter how much you fought against him. “Why did you make me care about you?” You asked weakly.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“But you did,” you cried, cuddling into his chest. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

“Why did you make me love you?”

“I know-“ he stopped short, looking down at you. “Wait. Back up. What? You love me?”

“You’re clumsy and a fool. But you’re smart and caring. You stayed when no one else stayed. You want to be with me, but why? Because you are loving and you want to help. You didn’t feel sorry for me. You just… you were there for me when I needed you. No matter how hard I pushed you away, you came back stronger, fiercer. You didn’t run away because I was a bitch.”

“Because I want to be here for you,” he said calmly, wiping the tears from your cheeks.  

“Fine. Be here for me. Kiss me and show me you are fucking worth it,” you challenged, Stiles smiling.

“Oh baby, with pleasure.”

He didn’t hesitate, leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. You felt the jolt of electricity like last time, his lips molding against yours perfectly. His lips were hot against yours, but he definitely knew how to kiss a girl. His mouth generally overtook yours in time, his hands holding your cheeks, his tongue passing over your lips as if he were asking for entrance. Your nails dug into his back, hugging him closer. Your lips parted, Stiles smiling into the kiss, his tongue slipping between your cheeks to massage yours.

The kiss was blissful, Stiles pulling away occasionally to breath before delving in for another kiss, his tongue finding its way back inside your mouth easily. The sound of your kisses filled the silent room, your bodies meshed together without remorse. Your body was on fire and you did not regret it at all. For the first time in forever, you felt you were in the right place.

You pulled away, pecking his lips. He grinned in return, peppering every inch of your face in kisses. Together you stood in each other’s embrace, just enjoying the time together. Until you broke the silence. “We need to stop him, Stiles. You need to let me help.”

“I can’t lose you,” he mumbled into your neck.

“You won’t. I will give you the directions to their pack house. You bring your squad. And we will stop this son of a bitch.” You placed your hand on his cheek, looking up at him. “Please. Do you trust me?”

He bit at his lip, nodding slowly. “With my life.”

“Alright.”

You stood in front of the all too familiar house, glancing around at the surroundings. Nothing had changed. You looked up at the house again, taking a deep breath. “I can do this.” The leaves crunched under your boots as you made your ways to the stairs, taking one creaky step at a time. You knocked on the door, feigning like you were looking for them.

When you received no response, for obvious reasons to you, you twisted the handle and stepped inside. “Ryan? Josh? Elizabeth?” you called through the house, ignoring the sickening creaks under your steps. “Is anyone home? I caught the scent of blood and was worried. I wanted to make sure you all were ok. Is anyone home?”

“No one is home,” a voice called from the living room, your eyes narrowing at the sound. It was soft, but he knew you would hear it. You made your way to the room, spotting the man sitting in the lounger in the corner, polishing the shotgun on his lap. A bloodied axe was leaning against the wall next to him. The man’s dark eyes glanced up to meet yours. He was balding slightly, wrinkles all over his face. He wore a black polo and dark jeans, though they did nothing to hide the blood strains everywhere on his clothing. “I don’t remember seeing you with the rest of them. Who are you?”

“Who are you?” You retorted, obvious sass in your tone. “Why are you here?”

“Finishing what I set out to do originally,” he grumbled in a low tone.

“So, I was right. Your name is Seth Cheney, am I right?” His eyes narrowed on your form, his hand no longer polishing his shotgun. “You killed my family the first time around you know. Ryan pleaded to spare his family in exchange for mine.”

“Then how did you escape me, pretty girl?” He asked, giving you a disgusting grin.

“Pity from the source I guess. Ryan didn’t want me hurt when he sent you to slaughter my family and send my world crashing down.” You shuffled on your feet, glancing around the room nonchalantly. “Why come back anyway? Was it someone named Monroe that set you up to this?”

“She wants all the supernatural creatures gone. You are unnatural creatures and you will end the human race as we know it. Nothing good comes from your kind.”

“You know nothing about us,” you growled, your eyes flashing red at him. “We aren’t murderers you know. We are human too!”

“There is nothing human about you!” He shouted, standing from his seat and cocking the shotgun. “You all deserve to die. Like your pitiful family. Like the pitiful “pack” that couldn’t last against me. They cost me my family. What good comes from your kind?!”

“We aren’t all bad, jackass! We just want a normal life you know!”

“You deserve no such thing,” he huffed, pointing the gun in your direction. A shot rang out, your ear drums shaking from the sound.

In that instance, before the bullet could hit you, you took off running, bolting for the front door. You heard the faint roar of anger from the man behind you and the thundering sound of his boot as he chased after you. You spared a glance at him, seeing he had forgone the shotgun for the bloodied axe. And even with your supernatural speed, he was gaining on you. You had to dodge a few of his swipes, kicking him back until you got to the front door. He tackled you from behind, your bodies collapsing out the door and down the steps, landing in a heap in the dead leaves. His hands locked around your neck, his eyes flaring with anger.

“This’ll end you and your kind. Just like you deserve! You can join the rest of those pitiful creatures that I hacked up!” He raged, his grip tightening. You gasped for air, praying to a miracle. For a second, you regretted your decision, regretting your trust in the man you grew to love. Maybe it had all been a sick joke to him and he never meant any of it.

“Freeze!” Stiles’ voice broke the crisp air. Seth’s head shot up to look at him, Seeing the gun Stiles was pointing at him, his fellow FBI agents behind him and all wearing their FBI vests. “Seth Cheney, you are under arrest for the murders of over twenty people and the attempted murder of Y/N L/N. Turn yourself in and no one has to get hurt.”

Seth sneered, standing from the ground, still holding your throat in his hands. “She deserves to die. You all should be supporting Monroe and her efforts to create peace! These creatures will only bring us destruction!”

Stiles shook his head. “You’re wrong,” he stated calmly. “They aren’t our destruction. They did nothing wrong. Why should they be punished for something they didn’t choose?” Your heart fluttered slightly, remembering when you told him the same thing the day you met him. “Now, I ask you one more time. Turn yourself in.”

Seth growled, throwing you aside and grabbing the bloodied axe from the ground, rushing at Stiles. You weren’t sure if it was suicide or an actual attempt to attack an FBI agent, but he was attacking a ranged agent with an axe. It was no surprise when Stiles fired at him. Two simple shorts, one in the arm to make him drop the weapon in his hand and one in the leg, causing the older man to collapse in pain, blood spilling from his leg. A few of the agents behind Stiles ran forward, handcuffing the crazed maniac and dragged him away to a car.

Stiles put his gun away, rushing to your side. He helped you up, rubbing your arm with one hand and tracing the hand prints on your neck. “You ok?”

“Never better,” you said, hugging him. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Anything for you,” he laughed, kissing your forehead. He led you back towards the cars, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. “I told you we would get him.”

“Excuse me? I gave you the plan, asshole,” you laughed. He grinned, shaking his head. “Also, who knew you were actually a really good shot? Like, damn, babe.”

“I told you they wouldn’t give me a loaded gun in my clumsy stage,” he joked. “Maybe being around you just brings out that clumsiness again. What am I going to do around you?”

His words broke you. He was leaving soon, wasn’t he? How was he supposed to be around you? You frowned at the realization and stopped walking, making Stiles look at you confused. “Your case is done now, Stiles…”

“Yeah. Your point?”

“You’re going to have to leave now,” you mumbled. This was exactly your fear and why you didn’t want to get close. He wormed his way into your heart and now he would leave and never return. You would be alone again.”

“I was going to talk to you about that,” he muttered, taking your hand and entwining his fingers with yours. “Will you come back to the hotel in town with me so I can call Scott to tell him about Monroe and we can discuss this? I don’t leave until tomorrow anyway. We have time. I’m not ready to leave you.”

You hesitated, gnawing on your bottom lip. Part of you wanted to run and leave him now, afraid that if you returned to his hotel, you would wake up alone and broken because he left you forever. You could leave him now and regret less than tomorrow. But the other part never wanted to leave him, not ready to feel the broken heart again. You wanted to be in his arms as much as possible.

You chose the latter.

“Alright,” you told him, letting him drag you to the SUV he had driven. “Let’s go.”

The drive was silent, the hotel room even worse. You listened to Stiles on the phone with Scott, watching him stripping from his FBI vest and black button up, leaving him in a black undershirt and his jeans. Your body grew warmer watching him, your legs rubbing together unconsciously to relieve the pressure between them. Stiles paid little attention to your actions, tossing his stuff that was scattered around the room into his suitcase, talking heatedly with Scott on the phone.

He finally groaned loudly, hanging up and dropping the phone on the nightstand. “Bad phone call?” You asked.

“Scott being Scott. I will have to let him know more when I can get more information from Seth. Hopefully we can get some good information on Monroe’s whereabouts,” he told you, unbuttoning his jeans and kicking them off, leaving him in his shirt and boxers. Your face flushed a bright red, covering it with your hands.

“Stiles!”

“What?” he asked, glancing from your face to his lower half. He obviously hadn’t thought about you being in the room when he stripped. “Shit. I’m so sorry. Let me find my sweats.”

You peaked through your fingers, spotting the small tent in his boxers as he rushed to find his sweatpants. The sight caused your body to heat up even more, making you completely aware of the ache in your core. You made the call to put yourself on the line, crawling forward on the bed and grabbing at the back of his shirt. He looked down at you, his lips parting in surprise.

“If this is our last night together, let’s make it count,” you told him. His eyes evidently widened, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the right words for you.

“Y/N, who said this is our last night together?” He asked.

“You’re returning home tomorrow, Stiles. It’s obvious. So, please,” you pleaded.

“Babe, we haven’t talked-“ he was cut off, your body leaning up to place a kiss to his lips. He let out a surprised noise, a mixture of shock and a moan. But he returned the kiss with an equal amount of vigor. His lips quickly overtook yours, his tongue passing through the small crevice of your lips to invade your mouth, tracing every spot with the tip. Your fingers twisted in his shirt, pulling him onto the bed until you were resting against the pillows, Stiles hovering over you with his lips attached to yours. You weren’t bothered by the amount of open-mouth kisses he placed to your lips, or the fact that your mind went blank as his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. You were enjoying every second of him against you.

His fingers played with the bottom of your shirt, tugging at it occasionally. You giggled into his kiss, pushing him away so you could sit up, allowing him to tug the intrusive material over your head, leaving it forgotten on the floor by the bed. His shirt follow suit, the black fabric finding its way to the carpet in a similar manner as yours had. Your fingers traced his torso, your eyes wandering his physique. His toned pecs, the dark patch of hair that was splayed across them. The biceps and forearms, veins protruding along them, the muscles flexing with every move he made. He was faint lines of a six pack, though they were hidden under the happy trail of hair that disappeared into his boxers. He had broad, muscular shoulders, his collar bone looking deliciously kissable.

“You’re so handsome, Stiles,” you whispered.

“And you’re beautiful,” he replied, glancing down at you. He took in the look of your plump breasts hidden under the lacy blue bra, noting the way your nipples poked through the material. But he also admired your face, falling more in love with your eyes and smile and the way your cheeks flushed as he complimented you. “You’re so perfect to me.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back down to the bed, your lips on his. He smiled, reaching under you to undo the hook on your bra, your back arching enough to allow him to complete the task. The straps slipped down your arms naturally when it unhooked, Stiles using one hand to toss it behind him, not paying attention to where it landed. His lips trailed down your chest to your breast, lacing a kiss to one of your nipples. Your moan hit his ears, encouraging him to continue.

His lips kissed at your nipple continuously, taking the bud between his lips every time and tugging at it when he pulled away from it. His tongue would dart out to lap at the hardened peak, listening to your squeals and mewls happily. He sucked dark red marks along the sides of your breasts and between them when he swapped to the other, untended one, repeating the same process.

Your hands fiddled with the elastic on his boxers as he sucked at your breasts, his own hands popping the button on your jeans and inching them down your legs. Your struggled under his weight to help kick them off, his feet kicking them off the bed once they were off your ankles. His lips broke from your chest with a distinct pop, trailing down your stomach to your matching blue panties. Your fingers shot to his hair, digging through his locks when you felt the silky material slide down your legs, not paying attention to what he did with them.

His hands pushed your legs apart, his hot breath fanning over your wet pussy. You moaned his name, your back arching off the bed the second his tongue ran over your folds. The tip prodded at your entrance, dipping into your pussy after a few passes. You moaned louder at the feeling, the heat flowing through your body. His tongue delved in deep, swirling in circles, tapping at your sensitive spots and along your walls. His own moan against your skin vibrated through your entire core and up your spine, tightening the knot that was forming inside you.

His tongue left your aching pussy dry, figuratively, as it slid up to your clit, flicking the swollen bud teasingly. You weren’t vacant for long, two of his fingers slithering their way inside to replace his absent tongue. You squirmed under his touch, his fingers thrusting into you at a quick but steady pace. The ends curled into your g-spot, brushing it every time his fingers disappeared inside you.

“Stiles,” you mewled loudly, his lips curling into a smile against your clit. His lips wrapped around it in response, nibbling at it, letting his fingers speed up. The tips tapped harder at your sweet spot, the feeling of him rubbing at your walls sending you into an abyss of ecstasy. “Please, I need you,” you uttered barely loud enough for him to hear.

He pulled away from you, his fingers leaving you with an empty void inside, the deep desire to be filled again. He licked his fingers clean, your eyes focused on the way his tongue passed over the digits. Your teeth tugged your lip between them, gnawing at it as you watched him. When he was finally done, he moved up to kiss you, his lips tasting faintly of your juices.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked quietly. You felt his lips move against your as he spoke and you could barely process the words he actually said. You were filled with an overwhelming need for him, a deep desire to feel whole.

“Yes,” you mumbled, leaning up to kiss him more. He smiled, rolling off you before he could get fully invested in the kiss. He dropped his boxers, leaving them in a pile on the floor, as he grabbed his jeans and fishing out his wallet. He pulled a condom from a pocket in his wallet, tearing the packet open as he waddled back to the bed. His hand wrapped around his erect cock, pumping it a few times to make sure he was ready. Your eyes were glued to the hard shaft he sported, your mouth falling open. “Holy shit.”

“What?” he asked stupidly, not understanding what you were gawking at. “Is it that bad?”

“Bad? Bad?? BAD??? Stiles! Have you seen yourself?!” You yelled at him. His face was even more confused as he looked down at himself in his hand, the condom between the fingers in his other hand.

“Well, yeah? I masturbate like… three times a day? But I don’t get what that has to do with anything right now.”

“Seriously, Stiles?” you deadpanned, motioning him closer with a curl of the finger. He followed your instruction, taking a couple hastened steps forward until he was directly in front of you. You were sat up on the bed by the time he got there, you hand reaching out to take his cock between your fingers in place of his. You stroked him a couple times, Stiles dragging out a moan at the intense feeling. “Look at you, babe.”

“I… have a dick?” He asked, legitimately confused.

“Are you really that stupid, Stilinski?” You glared up at him, pumping him a few more times. “You’re hung, boy. You’re well-endowed. You’re extra-large. You’re huge!” He blinked a few times. “Oh my god. You have a huge cock, dumbass!”

“Oh. OH. That’s what you meant?” He questioned, looking down at his cock in your hands. “I don’t know, is it really that much bigger than others? I always thought I was average…”

“Seriously? Really, Stiles?” You sassed him. “You are so far from average. You are not even above average. You’re like… god-tier. I had sex with Ryan and he never was close to this size.” You looked at his cock, stroking it a few times. “How is this going to fit inside me anyway?”

“Well, guess we will have to find out,” he mumbled huskily, rubbing at his chin. His cock twitched in your hands, surprising you with the sudden action, bits of precum leaking out of the tip. You hummed at his response, albeit you never expected an answer in the first place, leaning forward to swipe your tongue over his slit, tasting his salty sweet juice on your taste buds. “Oh, holy shit.”

You smiled against him, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it and rubbing it along the sensitive underside. Your hand pumped him quickly, your grip firm but not uncomfortable. Your free hand reached up to fondle his balls, all while Stiles let out loud moans, your name dripping from his tongue like it was the only thing he knew. Your hollow cheeks, even around just his head, made the feeling tighter, Stiles’ mind going blank at the feeling. He only came back to reality when he felt your mouth vanish around him, your tongue tracing along the pulsing vein along his length.

“Baby,” he whined, his free hand tangling in your hair and pulling you from his cock. “I need to be inside you. I can’t wait anymore. I don’t want to cum in your mouth. I want to cum inside you,” he paused, looking at the condom between his fingers. “Well, inside the condom, but while I’m inside you.”

“I understand what you meant, Stilinski,” you joked, taking the condom from him. You slid the lubricated rubbed down his length, laying back on the bed with your legs spread, your fingers playing with your wet entrance. “So, what are you waiting for?”

Stiles’ eyes darkened, the lust evident behind them. He was between your legs in the blink of an eye, his cock rubbing between your folds without any assistance. You mewled, your arms winding around his neck and tugging him down for a kiss. He eagerly returned it, the kiss distracting you both as he slid inside you in one swift motion. Your moan was drowned out, disappearing inside his throat, his groan mirroring the same. He didn’t give you long to adjust or accustom to his large size. He was thrusting into you slowly from the get go, flooding your senses with overwhelming amounts of arousal.

He broke the kiss, his eyes locking with yours and never moving from them, his thrusts speeding up steadily. You moaned loudly at him, taking in the size of him and how he filled you to the brim. You had never felt that full and that good and his thrusts seemed to complete the package. His girth spread you wide, pressing into your walls every time he slid back inside you. His length allowed him to reach your depths, tapping your cervix without intention and hitting with g-spot easily with every quick thrust forward. His movements were fast and fluid, rubbing your sensitive spots continuously.

His breath came out in pants, your nails raking down his back when he sped up even more. Your back was pressed into mattress, his hips bucking into yours relentlessly. The sound of sweaty skin slapping against each other filled the room, only drowned out by the growing volume of your moans and pants. He pounded into you restlessly, his cock sliding in and out of you without remorse. And you loved every second of it. The knot inside you was tightening with no control over it and you felt ready to burst any second.

Stiles stilled inside you, your eyes snapping open to look at him. You weren’t even sure when they had closed to be honest. He smiled down at you, pecking your lips. “I love you,” he mumbled, watching the smile on your face form. “Wrap your arms around my neck tight and don’t let go. I want to try something.”

You nodded at him, doing as he said. Your body was lifted from the mattress, finding your bare chest pressed to his instead. He leaned back on the bed, his legs adjusting until they were straight out under you, his knees bent slightly. Your legs were on either side of him, knees pressed to the bed, your arms tightening around his neck. Your chests heaved simultaneously with each other.

Stiles smiled, pecking your lips. “Yeah, just like that,” he mumbled, his hands finding their way to your waist and holding it tight. “Now, move with me, baby. Show me your moves.”

You hummed, grinning against his lips. “I can do that,” you told him, locking your lips with his. With your lips meshed together, your fingers tangling in the hairs along the back of his neck and his fingers digging into your waist, bound to leave bruises that would heal by morning, your hips moved together in harmony. His hips thrust up into you and yours moved down onto him, clashing in a steady rhythm. Any noises you tried to release were lost, the only sound being heard anywhere in the room being your slapping of your bodies.

You broke the kiss to breath, your eyes screwing shut and your head burying in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “Baby,” you mewled, nibbling at his skin. “I’m so close.”

“Good,” he whispered into your ear, leaning back on one hand for better leverage. His thrusts upwards sped up, your body jolting with the impact. He vigorously pounded into you, finding your most sensitive sweet spot every time he did. You mewled happily at him, feeling the covered tip hitting your core, your walls clenching around him more and more as he did. He panted loudly, his head falling back slightly at the tight feeling around him. The more he thrust, the tighter it got. The more he moved, the more your body shook against him. The more his stomach tightened and his leg muscles clenched, the more your own knot was twisting in various directions and your arms tightened around his neck, pushing you closer to him.

It snapped in a single second. He was thrusting wildly, his movements growing sloppier by the second. Your eyesight spotted in your pleasure, one final moan from your mouth spilling out the same time your fluids spilled out around his cock. Your walls contracted around him, hugging the length of his shaft close to you, never wanting to let go. The feeling of your pussy clinging to him sent his senses over the edge, his hips jerking unevenly as he spilled inside you. His cock twitched, sputtering as streams of his hot, white cum spilled into the condom, filling the gap at the tip. His thrusts eased, careful not to rip the condom he wore as he released every drop he had inside him. You leaned up, kissing his lips as he rode you through your highs, his lips eagerly returning the kiss.

His forehead rested on your when he pulled away, listening to your uneven breaths. He smiled to himself, pecking your swollen lips softly and lifting you off of him, rolling off the bed to clean himself off and discard the used condom. You watched his every move, cuddling a pillow as you waited for his return. He smiled at the sight when he emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, practically ripping the pillow from your grasp and replacing it with his body. The blanket was tugged over your bodies, his arm under your body, moving you so you were resting on his chest. His heart was beating unevenly and wildly, but it calmed you regardless.

You laid in silence, Stiles’ fingers running through your hair. But your mind stayed on the thought of him leaving, your heart breaking the more you thought of it. You sighed, burying your head in his chest, Stiles sending you a look you didn’t see. “Babe?”

“I love you too, you know,” you mumbled against his skin. “I’m going to miss you, Stiles,” you finally whispered after a few minutes, surprised that Stiles even heard you.

“Well, we haven’t talked about that. You kind of jumped my bones before we could,” he chuckled dryly, though you were obviously unimpressed with his attempt at humor. “Let’s discuss that now then.”

“What’s there to talk about. You’re leaving me.”

“Well, you know,” he started, tilting your chin up so you could look into his sparkling honey eyes. “In Quantico, I have this big ole apartment all to myself. I could really use someone to share it with. Someone say… my girlfriend?” he questioned. You blinked at him, trying to process his words.

“Wait… what?” You asked. Stiles laughed at your confusion, telling himself how adorable it was.

“I want you to come back with me. Come live with me.” He paused, licking at his lips. “Come back and be my girlfriend.”

“Stiles,” you started, tears forming in your eyes.

“I told you before. I’m sorry I broke our deal. But, I loved spending time with you. I know we said nothing beyond this. No strings attached. And I would be ripping you from your home for you to come back to Virginia with me. But I’m not ready to leave you. I want to show you that you are loved. I want to show you that you don’t need to be alone. I want to fix your broken heart. Not because I feel bad, but because I care about you and want to see you happy. You deserve everything and I want to give that to you.”

“Are you really willing to date a supernatural creature such as myself?”

“You wouldn’t be the first supernatural girl in my life. But hopefully, you will be the last. My one and only,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you passionately. You smiled against his lips, pulling away just enough to talk.

“Then to hell with the no strings attached concept. I’m glad you broke our deal. Now, you aren’t getting rid of me.” You pecked his lips again, rolling over to straddle his hips. “Now, round two?”

“Fuck,” he grumbled, his cock hardening under your wet core. “Who needed to sleep tonight, right? We can sleep on the plane back to Virginia tomorrow.”

“Exactly,” you grinned, kissing him fully. He grinned, reaching over to the lamp by the bed and switching the light off, leaving only the sounds of your moans to fill the room the rest of the night.

Tags: @ellie-bee242

[helplesslyinlovewithcharacters]

Going to the Chapel - Derek Hale x Reader

This is part of @fillthevoid-stilinski writing challenge, my prompt was ‘I never imagined you in a suit before’ I had so much fun with this, thanks for letting me take part! 

Pairing: Derek Hale x Female Reader

Derek Hale Masterlist

(All credit for the mood board goes to @agirlwithpointlessideas go show her some love!)

(Y/n) moved around the kitchen, excitement running through her veins as her wedding playlist played quietly in the background. She hummed along softly while cleaning up the mess she’d made when she had attempted to bake Derek his favourite cookies before he left. Gathering the bowls and stacking them haphazardly, (y/n) carried them over to the sink as the sweet scent of homemade cookies filled the air.

“Cause we’re going to the chapel and we’re going to get married” Her singing was off key but she couldn’t find it within herself to care as ‘Going to the Chapel of Love’ filled the kitchen, a wide smile spreading across her face.

“Please tell me you’re not actually singing that” (Y/n) looked over her shoulder to see Derek watching her as he leant against the doorframe with an amused smirk adorning his lips. A blush warmed her cheeks as she tried to stop her smile from growing.

“Well, I mean, it’s true” A soft chuckle rumbled through Derek’s chest as he made his way towards (y/n), wrapping his arms around her waist while littering kisses across her shoulders.

“You’re ridiculous” Leaning back into his arms, (y/n) hummed in content. She reached for a dishcloth, drying off her hands before turning in Derek’s arms.

“You’re the one that wanted to marry me” Love glowed behind Derek’s eyes as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. His heart fluttered softly in his chest, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been so certain of something in his entire life.

“I still can’t believe you’re kicking me out” (Y/n) snickered under her breath.

“It’s tradition for the bride and groom to be separated the night before their wedding” Her words were muffled against Derek’s t-shirt as she nuzzled into his chest. He grumbled under his breath, his discontent only increasing when (y/n) stepped out of his embrace. “I made you a parting gift though”

Derek rose his eyebrow as he watched his fiancé move towards the oven. Putting on a pair of oven gloves, (y/n) pulled out a tray of cookies, the scent of chocolate filling Derek’s nose. A small smile spread across his cheeks as he drew (y/n) back into his arms, pressing kisses into her hair.

“Am I forgiven?” Derek laughed, nodding as he swayed them along to ‘Marry Me’ by Train. He couldn’t hide his love for her, not when she was smiling so beautifully. Bowing his head, he caught her lips in a kiss, trying to pour everything he couldn’t quite say into the action.

Both a little breathless when they separated, (y/n) packed away the cookies before handing Derek the tin and pressing another kiss to his cheek.

“See you tomorrow” Excitement danced in her eyes at the thought of standing next to Derek at the altar. Biting his lip, he slowly backed away, grabbing his bag before going to the front door.

“I love you”

“Love you too” Derek shook his head, his hands trembling with excitement as he pulled the door open and made his way to Scott’s house.

“I never imagined you in a suit before” Derek sighed heavily, already nervous enough without having to put up with Stiles’ teasing. He fiddled with his cufflinks as he met Stiles’ eye in the mirror.

“I’m getting married Stiles, I can’t exactly wear a leather jacket and a Henley” The younger man snickered as he adjusted his own suit that Mellissa had no doubt helped him pick. Scott watched the two of them with an amused smile, some things would never change, even if their mocking had become far more brotherly as the years went on. They were both quiet for a minute, and Scott hoped that they were finished. Evidently, he underestimated his best friend’s ability to wind people up.

“True, I guess I’ve just got used to seeing you with a tail” A snarl curled Derek’s lips as Stiles jumped away, nearly knocking over the flowers that Lydia had placed everywhere. He tried to walk it off as Scott glared at him. The young alpha stood up, walking over to Derek and resting his hands on his shoulders.

“It’ll be okay, just relax” Derek only nodded, not trusting his voice as nerves bubbled in his stomach. Letting out a shaky breath, he shot his groomsmen a small smile before stepping away from the mirror. It was time to get married.

The ceremony had been beautiful, the pack trying and failing to hide their tears as Derek started a new part of his life with someone who actually deserved him. The reception was small, mainly made up of the pack with (y/n)’s parents and close family joining them.

Derek was sat facing the dance floor, a flute of champagne in his hands as he watched his wife dance along to ‘Celebration’ by Kool and the Gang. Her dance moves caused laughter to rumble through his chest as she matched Stiles’ erratic movements. (Y/n) had let her hair down from the intricate updo she’d had during the ceremony, her hair catching the light as she spun around with Stiles. Placing his flute on the table next to him, Derek was about to get up when his uncle sat next to him.

“Congratulations, Derek. You finally found the one for you” There was no malice behind Peter’s words as he stared at his nephew with pride clouding his eyes. Derek’s eyes flickered back to the dance floor as he rose from his seat.

Clapping his uncle on the shoulder he made his way towards his wife. “I did, I really did”

[ellie-bee242]

The Confession

So I am participating in @fillthevoid-stilinski‘s writing challenge for Teen Wolf and I thought I’d try out something lol.

Read the story with your name (and other info like eye/hair color!) by clicking here and downloading this extension!!!!

Part 1 - Part 2

Prompt: #10 “You’ve changed me... for the better/worse.”

Character: Scott McCall (i wanted to branch out a bit)

Song rec: none

Word count: 1,640 words

Warnings: Swearing (like a requirement for my fics at this point lol), angst, hurt (with no comfort, #sorrynotsorry), blood.

(also just for information Scott and Kira never dated in this fic universe, okay? okay.)

It was the next school semester, just after Allison had been killed by the Oni that Scott met her.

Too many things had changed. Lydia had left, not being able to bear the fact that she had practically felt her best friend’s death. The red-head hadn’t been able to handle all the reminders of her hanging around Beacon Hills so after pleading with her parents, they’d moved.

The group had also lost Issac that summer, bringing them three Pack members short all at once.

And then school had started back up.

Scott still caught glimpses of Allison even though she wasn’t there. It had made him feel so empty to have the halls and classrooms devoid of half of his friends.

But at least there was Stiles and Kira and Malia, and eventually his new Beta, Liam. Bringing him into the pack had made Scott feel less empty. He still regretted changing the kid’s life like Peter had changed his, but he had to admit that he didn’t feel as lonely anymore with Liam keeping him busy as he tried to help the young teen adjust to the supernatural lifestyle.

And then two weeks into the new semester a transfer student appeared in his usual seat. He thought nothing of the (Y/H/C) haired girl at first, and had sat behind Stiles for class instead.

But then she had showed up again, out of no where, at the most unexpected of times. 

Scott was fighting one of the assassins that the Benefactor had financed to kill him when suddenly an ungodly high pitched shrieking noise had literally sent the person flying into a wall, their ears dripping with blood as they crumpled in an unconscious heap on the floor and she had run into the room.

“Are you okay?” She asked quickly, checking Scott over for injuries while he stared in shock at her concerned face.

“Where the hell did you come from?” He wondered.

“I was in the library and I felt-” She stopped herself mid sentence.

“What?” He asked.

“I felt the presence of death.” She mumbled, expecting him to laugh at her.

“You’re a Banshee?!” He exclaimed.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” She demanded.

“I-I had a friend.... She was a Banshee. But she couldn’t do that!” He pointed to the person on the floor.

“Sure she could, with the proper training.” The girl nodded, her (Y/E/C) eyes darting between him and the unconscious would-be-killer on the floor.

“How... How did you do that?”

“I can send my voice anywhere in the world if I focus enough. But more than my immediate sight kind of rips up my vocal cords for a few weeks.” She cringed.

“You can actually do that? With your voice?”

“Well my scream, yeah. It’s my weapon.” She shrugged. “Werewolves have claws and fangs, I need to be able to protect myself too.” She told him.

“You know about werewolves?”

“Yeah. My powers run in my family. My mom was a banshee.” She shrugged. “All the women in my family are.”

“Wow.” He said, impressed.

“Anyways. I’m glad you’re okay.” She mumbled awkwardly. “And I should probably go collect my books and stuff and go home. It’s getting late and I have a curfew. You can take it from here right?” She cringed before turning and preparing to head out of the room.

“Wait!” Scott placed a hand on her arm and she spun to face him. “What’s your name?” He asked.

“It’s (Y/N).” She told him with a small smile. “And you’re Scott McCall. The true alpha.”

“You know about that huh?”

“Of course, everyone does.” She shrugged.

“Oh.” He nodded.

“Anyways. I’ll see you in English. Try not to die okay?” She teased before heading out. The werewolf stared after her for a moment, amazed.

(Y/N) had officially become part of the Pack soon after. Stiles had been suspicious of her at first, but when she’d unlocked the encrypted lists and her name had appeared on the last one he grudgingly agreed that she wasn’t actually a supernatural assassin. After Stiles’ acceptance she was fully integrated into Scott’s Pack.

She’d help them with countless things that year. Her and Scott started dating over the summer and became inseparable by the beginning of the next school year.

And when Theo had blown apart the pack in his quest for power she’d been right by Scott’s side, supporting him but also being the voice of reason.

“Theo isn’t exactly trustworthy, clearly. I doubt what he said about Stiles was actually true.” She blurted out one night while they patrolled the school halls, looking for the Beast.

“Logically, I know you’re right.” Scott muttered.

“But?” She prompted, knowing there was more.

“But... Why didn’t he just tell me?” He frowned.

“Scott, I love you, but your optimistic outlook on things is kind of.... Intimidating.” She worded her sentence carefully.

“Intimidating?” He scoffed.

“You always say that there has to be another way, that we should never resort to killing people-”

“Well unless you’re acting in self defense!” He interrupted.

“I know that. But that’s because I can read between your lines. Not everyone else can all the time. It’s a little frightening to think what your reaction might be I had to tell you that I’d killed someone.” She pointed out. “And Stiles is your best friend. You’re his best friend. He didn’t want to risk you being disappointed, or worse, mad.” She shrugged.

“That makes a lot of sense.” He agreed slowly.

“I know. I’m a smart cookie like that.” She grinned. “Now, about the Beast. I don’t think it’s here anymore. I’m not getting any deathy vibes.” She shrugged.

“Alright. I guess we’ll-”

“Shh.” (Y/N) said quickly.

“What?”

“I thought I heard something.” She muttered. Scott strained his ears, focusing in to all the noises around him with his werewolf senses.

“I don’t-”

“MOVE!” She suddenly shoved him hard across the hall as someone slashed their claws at her chest, ripping deep into her skin. She collapsed with a cry of pain, her body unmoving on the floor.

“(Y/N)!” Scott shouted seconds before he felt claws cut across the back of his neck and he felt the familiar paralysis of Kanima venom seep into his veins. He collapsed to the ground next to his girlfriend, watching in horror as blood started spreading out in a puddle from under her body.

“Oops, I think I cut a little too deep.” Tracey sneered. “But Theo doesn’t want you in the way, so oh well.” She smirked before running down the hall as (Y/N) gasped for air.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N) look at me!” Scott said quickly.

“S-Scott.... It-... It hurts.” She mumbled, wincing at the at the pain.

“(Y/N)!” He fought to raise his hand up to reach her, but the venom was still heavy in his system. “(Y/N) hang on, okay? Just focus on me, please! Please, I can’t lose you. Not you too.” He begged her.

“Scott... I-I-I love.. You.” She whimpered. “You-... You changed my life... For the better.... I was so lonely before.... And then I met you....” She confessed with a smile as tears escaped the corners of her eyes and landed on the floor under her cheek.

“(Y/N) please, just focus on me, keep your eyes on me!” He insisted. He focused on making his fingers moved, and when they twitched he moved to healing his hand.

“Scott....” She mumbled as her skin turned paler.

“(Y/N) keep talking to me, please.” He requested. “I’m trying, I’m trying to heal.” He said quickly. “I’m going to help you.” He promised.

“It’s okay....” She promised. “Scott, it’s okay... I love you.” He heard her heart beat grow fainter as her eyes slipped closed, her smile disappearing from her lips as unconsciousness claimed her for it’s own.

“(Y/N)!” Scott shouted. He struggled against the venom that laid heavy in his veins, weighing them down. His arm made excruciating progress towards (Y/N)’s unmoving form, and when he finally managed to get his fingers to circle her wrist he held tight. “(Y/N), please. Please, open your eyes. I can’t lose you too.” He begged.

He squeezed her wrist in his hold, and his own heart pounded so loud that her weak beats were nearly lost to his ears.

And then, miraculously he heard another sound.

“Here!” He shouted quickly. “We’re over here! Liam! Stiles!”

“Scott!” Stiles turned down the hall and the second he saw the both of them on the floor he started running with the young Beta hot on his heels. “Sco- oh shit. Liam, Liam call nine-one-one!” He shouted as he took off his flannel over shirt and flipped (Y/N) onto her back. He pressed the material against the gash on her chest as Liam dug out his phone and called in the medical emergency.

By the time the ambulance arrived Scott had healed from the Kanima venom, and had taken over holding (Y/N), listening intently to the stubborn beat of her heart as he pressed his own jacket over top of Stiles shirt.

“Please, (Y/N). Don’t leave me.” He begged softly. He let the EMTs take her from his arms and watched anxiously as they loaded her onto a stretcher and wheeled her out to the ambulance.

“C’mon, Scott. I’ll take you to the hospital.” Stiles muttered. Feeling numb as he heard the EMTs talk about how slim (Y/N)’s chances were, Scott simply nodded and let his friend pull him along to his old blue Jeep.

“Stiles....” He mumbled. “I can’t lose her. I can’t.... I can’t do it again.” He mumbled.

“You won’t.” Stiles said firmly. “She’s a fighter Scott.” He insisted.

“Allison was a fighter too.” Scott pointed out.

“(Y/N) is twice as stubborn as Allison was.” Stiles pointed out quickly as he sped along behind the ambulance. “She’ll be fine.”

Tagged: @amethystmerm4id, @fillthevoid-stilinski, @susybird

let me know if you’d like me to make a second part with the outcome. Otherwise, it’s up to you to decide the exact ending.

[sonderbucky]

Goodbyes // Isaac Lahey

a/n: Hello everyone!! I haven’t posted any new writing in quite sometime, mainly because my laptop is a piece of shit but also because inspiration is just at an all time low. However i do hope you enjoy this piece written for Em’s writing challenge @fillthevoid-stilinski​. Without further ado, I present angsty!Isaac in Goodbyes. 

Goodbyes are like a cold winter night. They linger against your skin, reminding you of days when the warmth wrapped itself around you with a soft kiss pressed against your cheeks. They make you crave that warmth as you find comfort in anything that can duly replicate it. They make your bones ache and numb your skin. They can be pleasant sometimes, but only when you want them.

And you don’t want this goodbye.

Isaac stares as you with solemn eyes, his lips pursed as he fixes the bag hung over his shoulder. You knew this day would come—Isaac leaving Beacon Hills, leaving you. It was first evident to you the day of his brother’s funeral. You were there, holding Isaac’s hand as he numbly stared at the casket in front of him. You were there, letting him clutch your jacket after the service as he cried into your shoulder. You were there for every bit of death that hit Isaac.

Including Allison.

The moment she fell into Scott’s arms, you knew that it would be it for Isaac. You knew that he wouldn’t be able to be in a town where every single person he loves gets taken away by death. In the late midnight hour while Scott was stuck giving useless police statements, Isaac was curled into your side as he silently cried. It tore you apart to hear his soft whimpers, clinging onto the fabric of your sweatshirt to muffle the sobs.

Now it’s tearing you up even more to see your best friend standing in front of you at the bustling airport, duffel bag on shoulder, ticket to France in hand. When it comes to Isaac, your stomach swallowed your heart a long time ago, but now the thought of him being halfway across the world made you ill. There’s never been a moment where you two have been that far apart before, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to handle it.

Because you’re in love with him, and the girl he loves just died, and now—now you’re not sure how to process anything. Life in Beacon Hills had been a whirlwind since you found out Isaac got bit, but you never expected any of this to happen. Isaac blamed himself for Allison’s death—“she shot that arrow to save me,”—and now he was proclaiming that with him around, your life will always be in danger. You will always have a predator looming over your shoulder, you will always be a target, you will always have to outrun death because your best friend is death itself. After losing so many people, you’re the last person he ever wants to lose. If Isaac lost you, he would lose his mind.

So going away was his only option. Argent has briefly mentioned to him that he knew Isaac had no one left, and neither did he, and that sometimes a trip to the French countryside cures everything. It was only supposed to be a few months, but that night as Isaac was wide awake in his bed, he came to the conclusion that a few months was not enough. He needed to remove himself from the situation all together, and that meant he’d have to relocate his life some place no one knew him. Argent was going to help him. He’d create a backstory for him, get him a house where no one could bother him, online schooling. The plan was for Isaac to immerse himself into a whole new life without Beacon Hills. Without Allison.

Without you.

But of course, when you’re involved, nothing can ever go as planned.

With you in front of him, tears brimming your eyes, arms wrapped tightly around your own waist, he found his plans trying to retreat like a scared soldier in the middle of war. He can’t do it. He can’t just leave you in this hell of a town with no defenses. He can’t let you fight this war by yourself. Isaac knows you have Scott by your side, and Stiles with his stupid bat, and Lydia. But you won’t have him, your best friend. The boy who, even without his werewolf abilities, would jump in front of a train to save you if necessary. And now that boy, werewolf abilities and all, is about to get on a plane for France and leave you.

“I’ll be okay,” you murmur quietly, reaching out for his hand. “I promise I’ll be okay.”

He doesn’t know why his heart aches at your words. He doesn’t know why he feels the ground trembling beneath his feet when he thinks of being without you. His life is setup to be a goddamn tragedy if he doesn’t have you, but your life is on a deadpool if he stays. Scott once told him that everything that happens in his life is a big chain of cause and effect. When you leave, bad shit happens. When you stay, bad shit happens. When you fall in love...even worse shit happens.

And yet.

“We were never like this before,” he whispers, eyes drifting up to see your face. “What changed?”

“What do you mean?”

“We never used to be scared of saying goodbye,” he mutters, clutching your hand in his. “We used to be able to do this all the time. To leave. And now...now I can’t find it inside me to get on that damn plane and leave.”

A sad smile reaches your face. Placing a hand on his cheek, you say, “because then a goodbye meant see you later. Now it means goodbye.”

Isaac pulls you into a hug immediately after the words leave your mouth. In that moment, he knew exactly why it hurt. He knew why he couldn’t get on that plane but knew he had to. He knew why he never wanted to let you go. He knew why a simple goodbye made his heart feel like it was being ripped out of his chest and ripped in half.

He knew why because Scott was right.

Falling in love makes the ground tremble before you, makes you feel like you’re high and dying all at the same time. Falling in love sends a spear through your chest. It makes you want to do anything for that person—even if that means leaving the country. Falling in love makes you human, and being human makes you susceptible to a heartbreak that could be the death of you.

Without knowing what he’s doing, he nudges his nose into your neck. Scott once told him that scent marking is the most powerful thing a werewolf can do. It creates a bond between the two forever, even if there’s distance. It hurts. But it’s worth it.

Isaac closes his eyes as he takes in your scent. You smell like vanilla. But then he gets hit with a scent of pain and love. Pain smells like milk left out on a summer day after trying to get cooled off. It hides itself in his nostrils, lingering, reminding him how easy it is to just end it. But love is different. Love reminds him why he's putting up with the pain. Love wraps around his body like a warm hug, it’s soft smells like a flower after a rainstorm. Comforting. Soft and sweet just like you are. Innocent.

His pain is tainting your innocence.

Isaac removes his face from your neck and places a kiss to your forehead. He sees Argent giving him a look of apologies as he points to his watch. They needed to leave. Before he unwraps himself from you, you whisper brokenly, “goodbye, Isaac.”

After the hug, he pushes a strand of hair away from your face, thumbing a tear away with it. “Goodbye.”

He looks at you one more time before he walks away with Argent. You’re not looking at him, head in your hands as your shoulders shake. You quickly move your head towards the ceiling and run your hands through your hair, then you’re staring at him with a blotchy face and a fake smile. You wave. He waves back. And then, he’s gone, past the doorways to the airplanes where he’ll begin a new life far away from you. Far away from another person he loves.

But you’ll be safe, and that’s worth more to Isaac than admitting his truth.

[ellie-bee242]

When @fillthevoid-stilinski has only JUST announced the writing challenge but you've already written a dozen pages of ideas for one of the prompts and are about to write a dozen more for your back up prompt...