#teen wolf fanfic
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itsjustrosee · 6 months ago
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Alright because of all the support on my last post with Stiles, I figured I should write another 😚👍
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Worried Sick Stiles Stilinski x fem!reader
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Context: established relationship, Stiles comes to visit you when you don't show up to school
Warnings: none, just fluff
Wordcount: 1.1k
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You had been in your room curled up in bed, tangled in blankets and stuffed animals all while you were supposed to be at school.
You had just gotten your period and your cramps left you nothing short of bedridden and on the verge of throwing up all day. You were experiencing womanhood at its absolute finest, to say the least.
Suddenly, the door to your room swung open, and a very confused and distressed Stiles entered your room. His expression softened once he saw you weren't dead or bleeding out, and a wave of relief seemed to wash over him.
"Not using the window to get in anymore?" You asked jokingly, rolling to your side to face Stiles who had now set down his bag and kneeled at the side of your bed. Being Scott's twin, you and Stiles needed to keep your relationship a secret. That's why when it came to hanging out, Stiles would always come in through your window rather than your front door so the both of you wouldn't get caught.
"Well, you gave me a key to your house for a reason right? Also going in through the window would've taken me too long," Stiles explains, his expression still slightly filled with worry as he placed one of his hands on your bed while the other tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
"What were you in such a rush for?" You ask with a chuckle in reaction to Stiles's seriousness, snaking your hand out of your covers and placing it on top of his.
"Well you didn't show up to school and I was worried," He explains, his expression soft and genuine. "I thought something bad might've happened," He says quietly and slowly.
For any other boyfriend, his girlfriend not showing up to school shouldn't cause them this much stress, but considering all the supernatural shit Stiles has somehow managed to get involved in, he couldn't help but worry himself to death.
"I'm okay Stiles, really I am," You say, reassuring him, "Just on my period that's all," You explain, trying to manage a smile but your stomach felt like it was being turned inside out, so it probably came out as more slightly disturbing than comforting.
"Ok good, I thought it could've had something to do with that. Which is why-" Stiles says, relieved, as he gets up and grabs his bag before sitting down next to you on the bed. "I have come prepared," He continues with a goofy smirk plastered on that stupidly cute face of his.
You sit up lazily as Stiles begins to show you what he bought. He whips out a plastic bag from inside of his backpack with items ranging from Tylonal, Advil, and Mydol, (which you immediately snatched and swallowed), all the way to chocolates and a heated stuffed animal.
"I got confused when I saw all the... feminine products, so- um-" He explains while taking out yet another plastic shopping bag from his backpack to reveal at least ten different boxes of tampons and pads.
You pause and stare at the ginormous haul of items that Stiles has bought you and you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
You appreciated Stiles and his caring towards you more than anything, especially in moments like these. He always knew the right things to do and the right things to say, and you loved him for it.
Stiles, however, didn't take your silence in the right way. "I'm sorry- it's stupid I know, I bought way too much. I bet I still have the receipt somewhere, maybe I can still return it-" He asked, sadness and disappointment slowly creeping into his voice.
"No!" You reply quickly. "Don't return it, and none of this is stupid," You confirm before sighing for a moment. "Stiles, this is literally like the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me," You explain, turning to look at him while you say it, a smile slowly forming on your face as you do so.
"Really?" Stiles questions, his embarrassed expression being replaced by one of relief and pride.
"Really," You say while scooting over in your bed and patting the space next to you, beckoning him to join you.
Stiles lays down next to you, and you gladly roll over and climb on top of him, resting your head by the crook of his neck as you wrap your arms around him. The heat radiated off of his body as you listened to his heartbeat and the slow movements of his chest going up and down.
Stiles brought the covers over you and kissed your head before speaking once more, "You don't want to use the stuffed animal I gave you?" He asks with a chuckle as he wraps his arms around you, his thumb rubbing soft circles into your back.
"Nope, I think you'll do just fine," You say as you lift your head to look up at him.
Stiles takes this moment to lean down and kiss you gently. He kissed and held you as if you were the most fragile thing in the world. As if with one wrong move you'd shatter into a million pieces, so he treated you with such care, holding you softly and closely to make sure you didn't.
Though the kiss only lasted a few moments, it made you forget all about the pain you felt in your abdomen and replaced it with butterflies. He definitely had a way of making you feel safe and comfortable whenever you were around him.
Once he pulled away, he looked at you with hearts in his eyes, "You're so beautiful, you know that right baby?" He said, his voice so faint that it practically made your heart beat out of your chest. He removed one of his hands from your back and placed it on your cheek and you immediately melted into his touch.
You could only let out a satisfied hum in response, you were too lost in his features to bother replying coherently.
Stiles let out a low chuckle as he kissed your forehead, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your head, stroking your hair as he did so.
"Get some sleep okay?" He said while wrapping his arm just a bit tighter around you, "I'll be right here if you need anything," He said softly.
"I know," You say, your words muffled slightly as you rest your head in the crook of his neck, "You're not goin' anywhere," You say with a smile as you place a quick kiss on his neck.
"Didn't plan on it," Stiles mumbles, about to fall asleep even before you do. But as your meds kick in, you can't help but slowly drift off to sleep as well.
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Okay, I'm having WAYYYYYY too much fun writing these I'm sorry 😭
I finished majority of my finals so I'm going to be much more active again so keep sending in requests! I'm continuing to work on them
Also, I cannot thank you guys enough for all of the compliments and praise I've received on my last post with Stiles, it was literally so sweet of you guys. My inbox was literally filled with people praising my writing and y'all have no idea how happy that made me, like literally my heart almost burst.
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hedwig221b · 4 months ago
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Yes To Heaven
sterek | E | 85k | ao3
tags: A/B/O, Werewolves Are Known, Werewolf Alpha Derek Hale, Omega Stiles, Possessive Derek, Protective Derek, Everybody Wants Stiles Stilinski, omegas are VERY rare, Stiles Stilinski is Hot, Alcoholic Sheriff Stilinski, Bad Parent Sheriff Stilinski, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Knotting, minor cordia, POV Derek Hale, UST, Pining
Summary: Stiles ruined him. The damage was irreparable. He didn’t want the food that wasn’t made by Stiles or shared with him; the water tasted stale; the clothes were asphyxiating and scratchy; the air was wrong, wrong without Stiles’ scent in it.
Fuck, what was wrong with him? How could that pretty little thing change him so much? He had an iron grip on his control before, being in tandem with his instincts, but within weeks, all of it was gone. As soon as he thought of Stiles, though, of his scent, his moans, and the little wrinkle on his forehead as he orgasmed, his mind settled.
What was life before Stiles? Everything was somewhere far, far away, forgotten, bleak, and meaningless. Derek thought he knew what light was as he looked at the microscopic dots of the stars above. Then Stiles came into his life and showed him the sun.
💗 for my muse @hotgirlstiles
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illiterateaffairs · 1 month ago
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a simple favor | stiles x reader
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masterlist | next
pairing: stiles stilinski x f!reader (enemy/witch)
word count: 7,120
warnings: language, banter, minor blood, allusions to sex *gasp* but no smut (sorry!)
summary: despite being self-proclaimed "enemies", you manage to drag stiles to your house for help with a spell...and maybe more.
author's note: hi friends! hope everyone is doing as well as they can be, and hope i can offer up a small distraction. i'm back with another witch!reader x stiles fic but this exists in a universe in which you are a "bad guy" and stiles can't stand you...for now ;) more deets at the end! also please just roll with me on any witch stuff idk if anything is accurate to witch lore, i feel as if with magic the rules are made up anyway so i'm doing what i want :)
“Hi!”
“AH- Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?” Stiles jumps before his face contorted in annoyance. 
He was on his way to pick up Scott. For some god forsaken reason his best friend wanted to get a tattoo before they started junior year and Stiles was meant to “supervise”. However, just as Stiles hops into the driver’s seat of his jeep, he’s greeted in the passenger seat by you. 
And you may or may not be Stiles’s least favorite person in the world. 
“I was waiting for you,” you state, point blankly like it was normal for you to have broken into his car. 
Stiles rolls his eyes, “God, do I want to know why?”
“Doubtful,” you sigh, turning in the seat to start putting on the seatbelt, “You should probably start driving.”
Stiles slowly narrows his eyes, “Why?”
“I need your help with a spell.”
“My help? What makes you think I’m going to help you?”
“Because you know I could kill you with the snap of my fingers.” you roll your head in his direction with a pointed look, “Besides, you owe me.”
Oh yeah. Because you saved his life this past spring when Gerard Argent kidnapped him after his lacrosse game. 
Stiles inwardly groans. You had a point. He had a feeling though no matter how many favors he paid you, you’d never let that go. 
You may have saved his life, but the thing was, to him and his friends you were still the “bad guy”. You were still the same witch that pretended to befriend him and Scott when Scott first became a werewolf, just for them to find out you were playing them to help Peter, who had enlisted your help to regain his strength and heal from the Hale fire. Stiles had barely tolerated you since the day you met, but after that, any ounce of trust and respect he had for you vanished. 
From that point on, Stiles decided he hated you. And despite defeating Peter, your presence loomed. For some reason, Derek leaned on you when he was building his pack of betas, giving Stiles more reason to despise you. But shortly after that, out of nowhere, Scott sought your help to try to stop Jackson as the Kanima and figure out who was controlling him. There was a brief moment where Stiles thought you could become an ally but admittedly he fucked that up when Peter came back from the dead and he jumped to the conclusion that you, once again, aided and abetted him. Turns out, in fact, he was wrong, and it was actually Lydia - his hopeless crush for nearly a decade - and he had accused and berated you for nothing. So any shot at you guys finding common ground was dead in the water. And you had decided to be petty and align yourself with the Argents just to piss him off. 
He hadn’t seen you since that night. He’d heard off hand from Isaac who’d heard from Derek you were spending the summer on the East Coast, doing some witch training or coven bonding shit with your family. 
That was until right now, in the front seat of his jeep.
“Scott is waiting for me.” Stiles finally responds; a half-hearted attempt to get you to go away.
You make a face, “Scott can go one night without being codependent.”
Stiles rolls his eyes, but he finds himself starting the engine. “Where are we going?”
“My house.” 
“You’re taking me to your lair?”
“Ha ha.”
“I don’t even know where you live.” 
“I’ll give you directions as we go. It's just right on the outskirts of the preserve.” 
“You live in the woods?”
“Just drive.”
Stiles should question how quickly he concedes but there is in fact the possibility of you hexing him or something. Which you’ve yet to do in any serious or fatal way. But another part of him is admittedly curious; to know what exactly you want, to see how you actually live. 
From the little information he’s learned about you the past year, he knows you live with your aunt and were home schooled up until recently when you enrolled in Beacon Hills High during the winter semester. But other than that, you were just the mysterious witch he hardly knew anything about. Aside from knowing you were a pain in his ass and someone he’s hesitant to trust. 
But he thinks he can survive one evening with you. 
The drive is quiet with just you providing simple directions. At one point he tries to make a feeble attempt at small talk, but you instantly lunge forward to turn on the radio. 
You turn to look at him in disbelief when the channel that’s on is the police scanner he rigged up. He shrugs sheepishly before you shake your head and turn the dial to some indie station. 
Stiles puckers his lips and nods as soft music fills the car. “Arctic Monkeys, nice-”
“Turn left at the stop sign.”
“Right.”
You turn to him with an amused look. “You don’t know how to act when we’re not at each other’s throats.”
Stiles scoffs, “Can you blame me? I barely think of you as a real person half the time, I don’t know what to say to you.”
You chuckle as you stare out the window, “Well we’re almost there.”
“What kind of spell do you need my help with anyway? And why me?”
“Because you’re a human.”
“Okay…?”
“And I need your blood.”
“Oh great.”
“It’s a spell to make a protection amulet. So I can wear it and not be found by other witches.” 
“And why do you need that?”
“Now that is none of your business.” You sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt, “And we’re here.”
Stiles observes the road they’re coming to the end of. Your house is indeed at the edge of the woods: a modest victorian-gothic style home hidden by trees. 
“I didn’t even know there were houses out here.”
“Not many,” you reply as the two of you hop out of the jeep. 
Stiles glances between you and his phone as you lead him to the front door, also texting Scott that he’ll need a raincheck on the tattoo adventure and he’ll explain later. 
“Is your aunt home?”
“Nope, she’ll be gone until late.” You answer, unlocking the door for you both to enter. 
Stiles takes in what he can from the foyer. He can’t get a full view of the space but he can definitely tell witches live here. The living room is lined with wooden bookshelves and candles and trinkets. He doesn’t have much time to observe when he watches you head for the staircase. 
“Um, where are we going exactly?”
“My room,” You call without turning around.
“Woah,” Stiles huffs nervously, “We’re doing this in your bedroom?”
“Don’t get too excited Stilinski, you’re here for business not pleasure.”
Stiles is grateful you still haven’t bothered turning around to look at him, because he feels his face heat up as he finally follows you up the stairs.
No surprise, your room also fits right in with the aesthetic of the house. Moody colors, wooden bed posts, and candles on every surface. He watches you flick your wrist and every candle lights up, casting a warm glow around the room. It's the first time he’s thought your powers were cool, but he’d never admit that out loud.
“Is this the lair you were expecting?” you ask, turning around to face him while standing in front of your desk, which is littered with books, potion bottles, and a large pot. 
Stiles shrugs, “It’s a little underwhelming.”
“Were you expecting me to live in an underground dungeon?”
“Something like that.”
You hum and turn back to face your desk, taking stock of the potion ingredients on hand.
Stiles wanders over to stand beside you, his hands in his pockets. “So explain to me what you mean by needing my blood.”
You pick up a necklace from your desk: a silver chain with an empty vial hanging on it. “I’m essentially making a potion to put in here. And if I wear it, it will make it harder for witches searching for me to track me or my magic. And human blood is on the recipe.”
“But why me?”
“I told you, because you’re human. Not a werewolf or a witch; a human. And humans have the purest form of blood. It's basically the secret ingredient.”
Stiles rolls his eyes at your nonchalance. “Okay I get that I guess, but why me? Couldn’t you have found some other schmuck to help you? Or have you scared off every other person in Beacon Hills with your shining personality.”
You turn to Stiles with a tight smirk, “As you may know, not many people are even aware that the supernatural is real. I know you do, and unfortunately you’re my best option. Allison is still in France from what I’ve gathered, Lydia is something but I haven’t quite figured that out yet, and using my aunt would require me having to explain what I’m doing and why. So you’re it buddy.”
“Oh so I’m literally your last choice. Boy am I honored.”
“You should be.”
“Wait, do you mean your aunt isn’t a witch like you?”
“Nope,” you shake your head, focusing back on the bottles on your desk, starting to add ingredients to the pot. “She’s not even technically my aunt. She was a family friend that took me in when I was young.”
“Why? What happened to your parents?”
You swallow, “You’re nosy.”
“Fine don’t tell me, but I think it's fair I get a little information since I’m the one helping you.”
“You’re the one who owes me, remember?”
“Yeah but it sounds like you can’t complete this spell without me and it seems pretty important so…thinking that gives me some leverage.”
You glance over at him with a glare and Stiles shoots you an innocent smile that makes you want to wipe it off his face. 
You let out a deep breath, “My parents fled to god knows where when I was five. Apparently, my family has a centuries long feud with another coven and they’d evaded them for years until then. They decided leaving me with Jules was better for my safety. So I’ve been in Beacon Hills ever since. I actually didn’t know most of that until this summer. I sort of…had a run in with a member of that coven without realizing and now I’m afraid they’re going to find me here. Hence the protection amulet we’re making. Is that enough background information for you?”
Stiles raises his eyebrows as he absorbs everything. “Wow that’s…heavy. There’s some witch coven out there that's been trying to kill your family for centuries. No wonder you’re the way that you are.”
I let out an unamused huff as I add the last of the pre-prepared ingredients. 
“Wait, is that unicorn dust- are unicorns real?”
I smirk as I pour it in, “Like I’d give away that information to you for free.”
I bite back a laugh as Stiles mutters dammit. 
Turning back to him, I hold up a tiny needle. “Your turn.”
Stiles’ eyes widen briefly, holding up his hands as he steps back from you, “Woah, woah, be careful with that thing.”
You scoff, “Stiles, it's a sewing needle.”
“Well, I still haven’t completely agreed to this. How do I know you’re not tricking me into draining all of my blood?”
You roll your eyes, “Stiles I just need one drop. And then you’re free to go off on your date with Scott.”
Stiles rolls his eyes this time.
I try to fix him with a genuine look for the first time in the months we’ve known each other. “Come on. Haven’t I made it clear enough that this is important to me? I seriously would not have brought you here if it wasn’t. Don’t make me beg.”
“I’d kind of like to see-”
“Reminder, I can kill you.”
“Alright,” he groans, “Let’s just get this over with. Did I mention I hate needles?”
“Aw poor baby’s scared of a tiny needle,” you fake pout.
“Oh my god shut up, like you’re not afraid of anything.”
“Yeah, I’m afraid of admitting something embarrassing like that.”
“Okay, just stab me already.”
You chuckle and take another step closer to him, holding out your left hand. Stiles takes a deep breath and apprehensively places his hand upwards into yours, and you gently hold the tip of his pointer finger. Stiles glances around the room, wanting to look anywhere but you pricking him with the needle, as minor as it is. 
“Jesus, I can feel your pulse, you need to calm down.” you comment. 
“Sorry that I’m a generally anxious person.”
“Yeah I gathered that over the last year from the fact that you literally never stop talking,” you snicker, “Have you always been like this?”
“As long as I can remember.”
“And it doesn’t drive Scott crazy?”
“Well, I think Scott, like most sane people, finds it endearing.” 
“Oh. Does Lydia find your constant yammering endearing?” 
“Woah, okay, there’s no need to bring her into this,” Stiles sighs rubbing his head, “Can you just prick me?”
“I already did,” I reply, making Stiles whip his head back, staring at his finger between yours, and sure enough, a red drop of blood was already forming. 
“When did you…” Stiles whispers.
I shrug, dropping the needle into a bin beside my desk. “I kept you distracted.”
Stiles watches you quietly, his lips slightly parted in disbelief, while you guide his hand over the pot and gently squeeze his finger so three drops of his blood fall into the potion with a hiss. Stiles grimaces at the pressure but it's not as bad as he thought. He’s trying to get over the fact that you tried to make this a little less painful for him by pricking him with the needle while he wasn’t thinking about it. It was surprisingly…thoughtful?
“There, the final touch,” you murmur. You turn back to face him, his hand still in yours.
“Great. Do you happen to have a bandaid for the patient?” He asks. 
“No need,” I reply, grabbing a small piece of gauze from the table and placing it over his finger to stop the blood. 
Stiles once again watches you carefully. As you apply the pressure to his finger, he takes note of the way you bite your lip while you concentrate. After a few more quiet moments, you toss the piece of gauze away and gently press your thumb into his pointer finger and close your eyes, murmuring something under your breath. Once you open your eyes, you look back down at his finger and suddenly there is no puncture wound. 
“There, good as new.” 
You finally look back up at him - his face closer to yours than you remember - and he’s still staring at you silently. 
“What? Were you expecting me to kiss it better?”
Stiles shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor. “Wha- no! No. Just…not used to you using your powers for good.”
I shake my head and finally release his hand, turning back to the pot and start mixing it all together. 
Stiles clears his throat and glances over your shoulder. “So what now? You mix everything together in the pot and boom, you’re good to go?”
“Cauldron,” you correct, “And I also have to pour it into the vial and cast an incantation to activate it.”
Stiles nods, genuinely intrigued by the process. He watches you quietly mix everything for another minute or so, before you reach for the tiny vial, and then you basically ladle an ounce of it into the small tube.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of potion you’re not using. Do witches care about waste?”
I fix Stiles with a hard look and he holds up his hands in surrender. He continues watching you close your hand around the vial tightly and hold it to your chest, once again quietly reciting an incantation. Stiles is almost certain the words you are saying are in Latin, and again, he’d never admit it to anyone, but he was kind of impressed. 
When you are finished, you open your hand and look down to study the vial. From over your shoulder, Stiles sees the vial now has a slight green glow to it. 
“Assuming it worked?” Stiles comments.
You shrug, “I guess the only way to truly find out if it didn’t is if one of those witches show up here.”
Stiles nods and then proceeds to stand there and watch you struggle to get the chain clasped around your neck. 
He snorts, “What, is there no spell to put on a necklace?”
You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”
He can’t help but chuckle as he stands up straighter. “Look, do you- I mean, would you want…I could..”
You groan, tired of listening to him ramble, “What?”
“I could help you, you know!” Stiles exclaims in annoyance. “God I don’t even know why I offer.”
You frown, too stubborn to stop trying but also too frustrated to keep going. Sighing, you remove your hands from around your neck and forcefully place it in his hands, “It's one of those stupid, teeny tiny clasps that aren’t meant for human sized fingers.”
Stiles chuckles as he takes each end of the necklace into his hands, while you turn around and move your hair out of the way. “Are you saying you know of non-human fingers that handle necklaces because if so I’m crossing my fingers for a tiny mouse because that would be adorable.”
You bite back a smile, thankful you’re not facing him, “Shut up.”
Stiles keeps chuckling to himself as he brings the necklace around your neck, and carefully works to clasp it. He definitely also doesn’t use the time to inhale your scent and start to wonder if you use some kind of fragrance or if witches have a naturally alluring smell. 
As you impatiently hold your hair and try not to think about the cramp forming in your arm, you also definitely aren’t thinking about the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck and praying he doesn’t see any goosebumps form on your skin. 
“There,” Stiles whispers unintentionally soft, making him clear his throat in surprise, taking a steep step back, “All done.”
You let out a quiet sigh of relief, dropping your hair and turning around. “Thanks. For the assist and the blood donation.”
Stiles snorts with a nod, “Yeah.”
I look down at the amulet I created and gently hold it in my hands, “Seriously though. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. So…thank you.”
Stiles swallows and nods firmly, a little unsettled by the sincerity of the last few minutes, “...You’re welcome.”
You nod as well, unsure of where to go from here. “Well, I guess now your services are no longer needed and you are free to go, and we are free to proceed with business as usual; only speaking when we see each other against our will.”
Stiles huffs, crossing his arms, “What if I want to stay a little longer?”
You raise your eyebrows, “Why?”
“I have a few more questions.”
“Haven’t I told you enough?”
“I think I’m entitled to some more information,” Before you retort, he barrels on, “Look if some evil coven could potentially be invading Beacon Hills - ideally not since that spell should prevent that from happening, so you say - I think I have the right to know more about what's going on so I can be prepared for it.”
“And how exactly will you, Stiles Stilinski, prepare for that?”
“By…telling Scott…”
You snort and nod. Well fair enough I guess. “What else do you want to know?”
“How dangerous are we talking? Like, how badly do these people want you dead?” 
You shrug, “I’ve only heard stories about how the feud originated. Supposedly, my family at some point in time, did something to steal powers from this other family.”
“Well it sounds like you guys are the bad guys in this scenario. Which tracks knowing you.”
“Well I’m pretty sure they did it in retaliation to them killing someone in my family in cold blood.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. So this thing goes back generations but I’m pretty sure something must have happened between my mom and this woman from that coven. I don’t know what, but she in particular has a vendetta against her and our family.”
“Is she the witch you had a run in with this summer?”
“No,” you frown looking down, “It was her son.” 
Stiles’s eyebrows raise, “Oh. And did he immediately try to kill you with some spell at first sight?”
I shake my head, “Nope. He just…pretended to be someone else to gain my trust and subsequently asked me out just for me to find out none of it was real and he was trying to get to my magic the whole time.”
Stiles widens his eyes with each new piece of information, his stomach dropping as he learns that this guy used and manipulated you. Yeah you definitely weren’t the bad guy in this scenario. 
“So, fun summer for me. How was yours?” You ask looking back up at him with a blank look on your face.
Stiles ignores your attempt to diffuse the conversation. “So you were seeing this guy all summer thinking he was some innocent…fling…and the whole time he was actually plotting to, what, kill you? Take your powers?”
“Something like that,” You shrug, “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out the end game with that one.”
“How did he even track you down in the first place if you’ve been hiding away here your whole life.”
“Apparently they’ve been biding time in Salem, hoping one day I’d find my way there to train with other witches. And I didn’t even know there were people to look out for until a few days ago, when I was talking to another witch I had met, who recognized his mom in a picture. I left on the spot and haven’t seen him since.”
“Did you tell him where you were from?”
“Nope, was trying to go for the whole, casual, mysterious summer fling thing.” you chuckle humorlessly. “That worked out so well for me.”
Stiles sighs, “So he has no idea where to look for you, and that amulet should keep him from getting any hints.”
“Yup.”
“And after all this…your parents are still out there hiding from them, too?” 
You nod, looking down again, “Yeah…sometimes I wonder if they’re even still alive.”
Stiles frowns, “Jesus…now I’m almost sorry for…”
“No, no,” You shake your head, your face twisting in discomfort. “Don’t do that. This isn't what we do. You don’t feel sorry for me. You despise me. And honestly I prefer that version of us, I can’t stand the thought of you sympathizing with me.”
“Okay, okay,” Stiles holds his hands up, “I get it. You know maybe I’m not sorry, because a fucked up childhood doesn’t excuse the shit you did to us last year with Peter, and the generally annoying shit you’ve done since.”
You make a face but don’t argue with him.
Stiles continues staring you down, with an unfamiliar look on his face. “But…that shit that guy pulled on you this summer…even you don’t deserve to be taken advantage of like that.”
Your eyes slowly revert back to looking at his face, trying not to give away how vulnerable you felt sharing that information; not to mention how vulnerable you were this summer just to have that blow up in your face. You shift slightly, still uncomfortable with the atmosphere surrounding you two right now. You cross your arms tightly across your chest. 
“Thanks…”
The two of you let the moment hang in the air for another few seconds before you clear your throat, not being able to stand the sincerity any longer.
“Well I guess next time I try to have a casual fling, I shouldn’t do it with a stranger I knew for all of a day before going out with him.”
Stiles chuckles dryly, “Guess not. Maybe you’d be better off getting to know a guy for a while first. If you can keep one around long enough without driving them up the wall.”
“Ha ha. Because you’re the picture of a guy with a successful love life. Remind me of the last time Lydia gave you a second look?”
Stiles glares at you, as he starts to sputter, “She…was looking at me when I was playing in that lacrosse game.”
“Oh so over three months ago? Wow you’re making huge strides.”
“Look, I’m playing the long game alright?” 
I shake my head, “God, I don’t know why you even bother.”
Stiles' jaw teeters open and closed, “What? Is it that out of the realm of possibility that she could ever like me?”
“No, I just meant you could do better.”
Stiles stutters but no words immediately form in response to that. He stares at you blankly for a few beats. “I can do better? Me? Can do better than Lydia Martin?”
You roll your eyes, “You say that like she’s God's gift to this Earth.”
“Yeah, well…she’s still nice - sometimes - and highly intelligent, not to mention gorgeous.”
“Stiles, I’m not trying to disparage your precious Lydia, I just think you could do better than someone who doesn’t give you the time of day.”
“What…What do you mean?”
“Well for one it's kind of pathetic you’ve been hung up on her for so long with no reciprocation whatsoever.”
“Okay, I wouldn’t say-”
“And second, I don’t understand why a guy like you can’t find a girl who actually likes him back.”
“Well you say that like I’ve got a parade of girls waiting in line to date me.”
You shrug, “Trust me, there are some.”
Stiles scoffs, “Yeah right.”
“I think you're underestimating how many girls just want a sweet guy who will treat them well with a moderately nice face.” 
Stiles shifts awkwardly, “Is that your type?”
“My tastes are a little more refined than that.”
“Well how do you know most girls see me that way?”
“Because objectively speaking, you do have a moderately nice face. Maybe even a step above that. And look at you, you grew your hair out this summer. Do that to impress Lydia?”
Stiles flushes, “Well not just…”
“Because I’m sure it will work on plenty of other girls when they see you at school next week.”
Stiles lets out a deep breath, looking at you curiously, “Why are you saying all this?”
You uncross your arms and sigh, taking a step towards him, “Look I’m just stating facts, and maybe I can spare you a compliment since you helped me out tonight. You deserve better than waiting for someone who may never come around. And maybe, who knows, I’m wrong and one day Lydia will come to her senses and see what's right there in front of her. But don’t waste all your time doing nothing. You could at least have fun in the meantime. And I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would jump at the chance.”
You give Stiles’ shoulder what should be a supportive squeeze, but because it's the two of you it feels wrong. You awkwardly lift your hand and pat him a couple times before retracting your arm all together.
Stiles stares at you, once again in awe, confused why you’re being so civil with him…let alone…kind? His eyes hone in on the way your nose scrunches up when you instantly regret touching his shoulder, and the way your lip curves up in amusement as you look back up at him. Your eyes have a warm glow amidst the candles lighting up your room. And he’s once again in close enough proximity to you to inhale your scent; a mix of vanilla, berries, and amber. 
Yeah it definitely must be a witch thing, because he somehow finds himself being drawn closer to you. And before he knows it, he’s leaning completely in and kissing you. 
It's a rare occurrence for you to be taken by surprise, but you do jump slightly when his lips touch yours. He did it so fast you didn’t even have a chance to process it, let alone prevent it from happening. You don’t immediately kiss back but you don’t immediately pull away either, chalking it up to the shock. 
Stiles very quickly realizes what he’s doing and the fact that you’re not reciprocating as he pulls away slightly to take in your full reaction.
You narrow your eyes at him slightly, “I didn’t mean me.” 
Stiles’ eyes widen and his lips part, once again struggling to form words as he starts to pull back.
For some reason you’ll probably never understand, you instinctively reach out to hold his arms to keep him in place. He looks at your hands and then back to your face curiously. 
You quietly breathe out, “I also didn’t say to stop.”
Stiles breath hitches, his lips curving up just slightly before he dives towards your lips again. 
This time you instantly kiss back, pulling him closer by cupping either side of his face, as his arms come to snake around your waist. 
As the kiss becomes more intense, Stiles reluctantly pulls away for oxygen. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmurs breathlessly, pressing his forehead against yours.
“You started it,” you muse, chasing after his lips.
He laughs softly, letting you kiss him deeply another few minutes before he gently caresses your face, pulling away.
“And I don’t hate what we’re doing but it's also very out of character. For both of us.”
“To make out with a hot person?”
“No,” Stiles sighs, but can’t fight the blood rushing to his cheeks, “I mean making out with each other. Honestly, this whole night has been out of character. We normally can’t stomach being in each other’s vicinity for more than five minutes.”
“Well if you haven’t noticed, this activity doesn’t require a whole lot of talking so I’m finding it easier to tolerate you.” 
You watch Stiles roll his eyes, trying to rationalize what’s happening between you two. So you take a deep breath.
“Look, we’re not going to suddenly stop despising each other but there’s nothing wrong with two consenting people having a little fun. And you know…probably never speaking about it again.”
Stiles shifts the weight between his feet, becoming overwhelmed by the situation and the possibilities of where it could go; possibilities that both scare and excite him. And he can’t figure out what emotion is winning out. 
“This probably won’t come as a shock to you,” Stiles speaks up again quietly, not meeting your eyes, “But I’ve never really…been with a girl…like this.”
The corner of your lips curl up. It wasn’t new information, but there was something about seeing this boy who usually goes toe to toe in insults with you be so open and honest with you.
You place your hands over his where they still rest on either side of your face. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can go as far as you want. Or we can stop now and pretend like this never happened. You are more than welcome to go.”
“I don’t think I want to go,” Stiles whispers hoarsely.
“Then don’t go,” You whisper back, leaning closer again.
“You’d really want to do this too?”
“Yes-”
“Because I know why I want to but why do you want to? After the guy you were with this summer I would have thought you’d be more…selective.”
“Oh that's exactly what I’m doing.”
“And you want to be with me? Why?”
“Because unlike the last guy, I know what I’m getting with you Stiles,” You state simply, “You’re a good guy. This has no chance of going anywhere. Absolutely no feelings whatsoever to get in the way. It’s perfect.”
Stiles stares at you, taking in your expression for any sign of uneasiness or lies. But he can tell you’re dead serious. His skin starts to burn in anticipation. 
“So we’re doing this,” He says softly, somewhere between a question or a statement. 
“I’m in if you’re in.”
“We do this once and we never talk about it again.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“And no one, and I mean no one finds out about this. I mean it, you can’t tell anyone.”
You scoff, “Trust me, I plan to take this to the grave. You should be more concerned with yourself. I can’t see you going five minutes without squealing to Scott that you’ve finally seen a girl naked.”
Stiles closes his eyes and groans, praying you can’t see him blush again. He also can’t even process the fact that he is indeed about to see a girl naked.
After a moment, Stiles finally says, “I don’t have to tell Scott everything.”
“Okay, if you really believe that.” He rolls his eyes, making you chuckle. “So are you game, Stilinski?”
Stiles’ eyes flit across your face, before settling back on your lips. “Fuck it.”
He kisses you deeply and the two of you tug at each other like your bodies are never close enough. Your hands wander over his body until they end up at the buttons of his flannel, and you haphazardly start to undo them before he pulls away briefly to help you get it off of him. He shivers as your cold fingertips trace the contours of his chest and stomach, but he doesn’t get a chance to linger on the feeling as you kiss him again. He takes his turn to pull off your jacket, before sliding his fingers under the hem of your shirt, which you help him maneuver over your head. You once again only let him have a few seconds to take in your exposed skin, only your bra separating you two from complete skin to skin contact, before you’re pulling him back to you again.
“Do you have…” you mutter against his skin as you start to kiss down his jaw and neck, “Protection?”
Stiles’ stomach twists with nerves and excitement as he nods. “Yeah, I have a condom in my wallet.”
You smile against his skin, trailing down to his collarbone, “Been hoping one day Lydia would want to jump your bones?”
Stiles groans, tangling his fingers into your hair, “God, shut up.”
You chuckle darkly before gently pushing against his chest so you can move onto your bed. 
Time passes in a hazy blur as you and Stiles finish undressing each other between sloppy and heated kisses. You try to go at a moderate pace with him, despite your own eagerness. To your pleasant surprise, Stiles is a quick learner as you talk him through how to touch you and make you feel good. And he makes you feel very good. And despite his own timidness and learning curve, he is very attentive to your needs as well as your comfort levels, constantly checking in and making sure you’re okay. 
You’re more than okay by the time you’re done, the two of you collapsing back onto the bed, sweaty and panting.
“Holy shit,” he breathes out staring at the ceiling. 
You smirk, pulling the sheet up to cover yourself, “Yup.”
You lay in silence for a few moments as you catch your breaths before Stiles speaks again.
“I hope tonight makes us even, because I think that counts as two additional favors,” He says teasingly, but when you don’t immediately respond, his head turns to you quickly, “You finished both times right?”
You chuckle softly and nod, turning your head towards him as well, “I did.”
“Good,” he sighs in relief, “I did, too.”
“I know you did.”
Stiles rolls his eyes but laughs softly, “Right.”
“And I’d say I was the one doing the favor,” You muse, “Now the next time you find a girl willing to sleep with you, you’ve got some tricks up your sleeve.”
He huffs with a nod, “I guess you’re right.” Another few moments of silence pass between you when Stiles looks at you again, and asks softly, “But seriously, it was good for you?”
You roll your eyes, “Yes.”
“Like, you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
“When have I ever worried about preserving your feelings? Trust me, if it was bad or you were doing something wrong I would have told you.”
“Yeah I guess that’s true,” he sighs. Another beat. “But like on a scale of one to ten?”
“Stiles!”
“I know, I know.” he regresses. “Can I ask for real though - and full permission to punch me if this is insensitive - but compared to the last guy…was I better?”
He watches you stare at him blankly for a few seconds before he starts to back pedal. “Probably not right? He was probably way more experienced even if he..”
“This was better.” 
He turns to you again in surprise. 
“You were better.”
Stiles stutters, “R-really?”
You nod, “You’re not an asshole who only thinks about himself. Don’t ever lose that quality.”
Stiles smiles softly, his cheeks warming up again. 
“Seriously, it was good. Great even,” You continue, “If that’s what you’re like with me, I can���t imagine how good it would be with a girl you actually like.”
That last statement was like a bucket of cold water splashing over him. Right. You guys hated each other. And you were still the same girl who made his life inexplicably harder this year. But those things were easy to forget while he stared at you, your messy hair splayed across your pillow, your bare skin lit by the soft glow of the candles in your room, with a few noticeable marks across your collarbone that he was responsible for. 
But this would be the first and last time this ever happened. And he will probably have complicated feelings about it for the foreseeable future, knowing the memory of his first time will always connect him to you. But he surprisingly feels less guilty than he would have thought.
“I should probably go,” He whispers after another few seconds of taking her and the moment in. Part of him wishes he didn’t have to leave at all and continue living in this bubble of false reality and denial. But he thinks his brain takes over in an act of self preservation to get out of there before he gets in too deep. 
“Yeah, you probably should,” You whisper back, taking a deep breath. 
He watches you sit up, dragging the sheet covering you up with you. He sucks in a breath as you grab a dark purple robe off of your bedpost and slip it on, covering the rest of your body and taking the image away from him. With that, he also forces himself up, locating his boxers and jeans on the floor and pulling them on. 
You circle your bed as he starts to pull on his flannel again. He feels nervous under your gaze, and about how to act right now, making him fumble with the buttons. Without a word, you reach out and slowly and quietly help him finish buttoning it. He takes this one last opportunity to watch your face at this level of proximity, knowing he’ll probably never have the chance to do that again. 
As you finish the top button, you look up at his gaze still laser focused on you, and for some reason he doesn’t feel compelled to look away. 
“Thank you for tonight,” You say softly with a small smirk playing at your lips, “Thought I just needed a protection spell after the summer I had, but I guess I needed that as well.”
Stiles feels himself smirk too, “Happy to be of service to both.”
You slide your hands across his chest, smoothing out his shirt before taking a deep breath and step back. 
“So, business as usual? I’m sure we’ll run into each other again once Scott gets himself into some more supernatural shit, and we’ll be back at each other’s throats in no time.”
Stiles chuckles, “I look forward to it.”
You give him your version of a tiny genuine smile. “Do you need me to walk you out?”
He shakes his head, “I’m sure I can find my way.”
You nod, also taking in his appearance under the glow of the candles while you can. You decide to take the opportunity to close the distance between the two of you and kissing him chastely one last time. 
Stiles closes his eyes and reciprocates automatically, but the kiss is over before its even begun. He watches you pull away from him, unable to tear his eyes away from yours.
“Goodnight, Stiles,” you whisper before stepping away and walking around him towards your desk again to clean up.
With his back towards you now, he smiles to himself, huffing in disbelief at the night he’s had. 
“Goodnight,” He says back softly as he takes steps towards your door. He glances back at you one last time, before leaving and finding his way back downstairs and out your front door. 
Once he shut the door after sliding into the driver's seat, he lets out a long deep breath and rubs his face. Losing his virginity to his self-proclaimed mortal enemy was not on his bingo card for the night - or ever. But the more he sits with it, the more he’s weirdly pleased that it happened. Honestly, it was like best case scenario. Figuring out sex with someone he’s not trying to impress - well, to a certain degree - took some of the pressure off. And now he doesn't have to think about it anymore. Unfortunately, it was really good. Extremely good. Too good to just have been a one time thing, and part of him is disappointed there’s no chance of ever experiencing it again. 
It was for the best. The moment hell freezes over is when he’d have actual feelings past irritation and mild rage when it came to you. So he shakes his head, putting their night together behind him as he pulls out of your driveway.
Still in your bedroom, you lean against the wall watching him drive away from the window. You smile to yourself, having a sneaking feeling this wouldn’t be the last time the two of you do this. Stiles just didn’t know it yet.
author's note: dying to know what people think of this, not the type of stuff i usually write. firstly, sorry for the lack of steam, i've never written smut and not sure i ever will but hope it alluded to enough for yall. also again, took my witch idea and flipped it into an alternate universe where the reader is a lil evil. there are elements of the other pieces i'm writing that assumes similar lore/backstory for the witch, but in this version, you don't grow up as stiles & scott's bff, you're isolated leading to some villianous tendancies. i also know i hinted at a lot of back story with some pieces from seasons 1-2, with this ultimately taking place right before season 3. so i have some ideas of writing other parts that dive into some of those moments, plus more parts that come after this of course. so let me know what kind of stuff you're interested in seeing from evil!witch x stiles (evil being used pretty loosely) THANK YOU FOR READING!
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teencopandthesourwolf · 1 year ago
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He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do. 
He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him. 
Was it Laura?
Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.
She didn't tell him anything before leaving New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just up and vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone, because she'd known without a shadow of a doubt that Derek would've only followed her if she'd have said a single word to him.
Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who he prayed to. Those desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.
Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.
Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't even mark graves, and grieve properly. 
That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.
Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.
The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.
The thought still haunts him. One of so many. 
Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him, tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.
In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.
Alpha.
Big sister.
But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.
He never told her about Kate.
And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack. 
Now, he remembers that last time. 
“I'm going out.” 
Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him, scenting him. 
It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back. 
“What's this for?”
“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”
Oh, fuck no. Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? Never again, not after…
He pushed his sister off him, gently; a stark contrast to the harsh words that followed. 
“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's bed but my own.” A single mattress on the floor of the lounge of their shitty one bedroom apartment. Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me alone.”
Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his guilt was constantly pushing her away. 
“Where do you go to, little brother? You might not be clinging to me anymore, night after night, nightmare after nightmare, but you're rarely in your own bed most mornings.”
She hadn't meant it as a dig. Derek knew that. She was his sister, and she loved him.
Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.
Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars, and hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperate to find scumbags to taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.
Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.
“Just—out.”
Then Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back. 
That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.
It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since. 
Now here he is—standing in his stupid big loft that he bought for his betas, yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, with skinny yet strong arms wrapping as far around his shoulders as they'll reach. 
Stiles.
“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect, his connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.
He knows all about those.
“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it. 
But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.
Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back, feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck. 
Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”
And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, Derek believes there could be something good in his life again.
More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly, and allows himself to be hugged back.
Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.
He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Because maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude? 
Stiles's dude.
It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less. 
“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."
Derek can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And, ironically, Derek feels as if he can breathe again. 
.
for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3 (unedited, forgive me!)
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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 4 months ago
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Call Me biles
Stiles Stilinski Masterlist Summary: Being Coach’s daughter isn’t that bad. Of course, you're in the lacrosse team, which makes him proud and happy. But falling for the worst player (after Greenberg), going out with him in secret, and lying to your dad… That's bad. But the worst is… Ever since you started dating him, you've been calling him Biles and no one told you you were wrong. Word Count: 2080 Pairing: Stiles x F!Reader A/n: I was feeling the absolute worse today so decided to write the absolute cutest story I could to cheer me up. Teen Wolf, it's been a while! Hope y'all enjoy! Sorry for any mistake! (I wrote this with 3 hours of sleep)
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“Faster! My grandma could beat you with her eyes closed, and she’s dead! You suck Greenberg! That’s good sweetie, keep going!”
Obviously, Coach was after everyone. It was understandable, Beacon Hills hadn't won a game in forever, it was almost depressing to be on this team. Other schools made fun of you when they crushed you during games. 
And Coach wasn’t only screaming at the student in his team, but at everyone in the class currently running on the field.
But obviously, when Coach spoke to you, he didn't treat you the same way as the others. His tone changed, a proud smile appeared on his face, and he began to encourage you instead of denigrating you.
Obviously. Since Coach was your dad.
You finished your lap, out of breath, and leaned over to put your hands on your knees. In the distance, you could hear your dad's voice return to its usual tone as other insults replaced the encouragement he only offered to you. 
“Is that everyone?” You looked up to see the last person finally finishing their lap and collapsing in front of your dad, face red and covered in sweat. A small laugh escaped your vigilance with a smile that you quickly hid when you saw you had Coach's attention on you. “Pathetic,” he finished as he headed towards the school, announcing that class was over.
You watched him out of the corner of your eye, and, once certain that he was out of range, headed towards the poor wretch collapsed on the ground.
“Biles!” you laughed, helping him up. “You really need to improve your cardio, or we’ll get crushed at the next game!”
Once on his feet, you met his gaze and it was your turn to lose your breath as you inevitably lost yourself in the beauty of his amber eyes.
“You’re dad will crush me before,” he grimaced as he started walking towards the school alongside you. It was the first class of the day, and you knew the rest of the day would be long, especially with Lacrosse practice scheduled for the evening. “You’re lucky he’s not always on your back, you know?”
You shook your head, understanding what he meant. “He wants what’s best for me. I asked to join the team, he didn’t force me nor did he agreed I join because I was his daughter. He made me go through the tryouts like everyone else and I got no special treatments or favoritism. He just… Made a promise to my mom before she passed away, to never be the cause of my tears. He’s a great dad. Well, except when it comes to dating boys…”
Biles shook his head and sighed as he opened the door to let you enter the school first. “What about the other guys? Aren’t they mad about Coach’s daughter being on the team?”
At his question, a grimace of suffering stretched your face and you stopped walking. Biles mimicked your movement and turned to you, one eyebrow raised.
“Let’s say he made it veeeeerryyyy clear to the ones that complained. And the few ones that started rumors…” You shivered at the thought. “You don’t wanna know.”
“I don’t wanna know,” an expression of terror was now on his face. “Alright, I’ll hit the shower, see you at lunch,” Biles quickly scanned his surroundings to make sure the coast was clear and leaned down to place his lips on yours. They were soft and warm and even though it wasn't the first kiss you had shared, the butterflies still woke up in your stomach.
“See you later,” you watched him leave, a stupid smile plastered on your face.
Gosh, you loved that boy.
-
Later the same day, it was Lacrosse practice.
Even though you had spent time with Biles during the day, you were very excited to see him again to play the sport that bonded you two together at the beginning. And then, hiding from your father all day, always looking behind your shoulder to make sure no one was following you, spending dinner breaks in Biles' jeep to make sure no other teacher saw you together at the cafeteria…
It was grueling.
Sometimes, you wish you had the courage to just tell your dad. After all, even though he appeared rather withdrawn, he always supported you in your decisions and encouraged you to pursue your dreams. But a boy in your life?
You feared his reaction.
“Hey, Stiles!” 
The unfamiliar name, albeit with a familiar connotation, caught your attention and you turned your head towards the source. Practice had already started, but as usual, your boyfriend was on the bench while you were on the field. The person who had just spoken was also on the team, number 11 and friend of Biles, who, true to form, arrived late.
Biles jumped to his feet as if he had springs in his shoes and rushed towards Scott to whisper something frantically. You raised an eyebrow, not really understanding the reason for the secrets exchanged between the two boys, and continued playing without worrying anymore about what was happening.
-
Stiles Pov
“Hey, Stiles!”
Nervousness coursed through his veins as if he had just received a violent electric shock. The current reached his feet, and immediately he was standing up and rushing towards Scott, his stress-fueled speed almost on par with the werewolves.
“Biles. My name is Biles. Call me Biles!” Stiles quickly whispered, his hands going all over the place as if he was trying to fly away. 
Scott froze, his mouth half open, and his gaze left his friend and rested on the source of all this stress. The girl in question had stopped playing to look at them, but quickly returned to the game, shrugging one shoulder. “You know, you should tell her.”
“Are you crazy?!” Stiles' voice rose an octave, which caught Coach's attention. A quick wave of his hand to apologize, and Stiles continued the conversation in a low voice. “She’s Coach’s kid, and I love her so much, man, if she thinks my name is Biles, my name is Biles. Hell, I’m ready to change it on my birth certificate.”
Scott looked at his friend with wide eyes. “You love her that much?”
Stiles sighed, his head turning to look behind him where the girl of his dreams had just caught the ball and scored a point. Pleased with herself, her gaze immediately went to her dad who applauded her, then to him, Stiles - well, Biles, who looked at her with eyes full of affection. “You have no idea.”
--
“Stilinski! On the field! Greenberg, out of my sight!”
Hearing his name, Stiles was already standing, helmet on his head and lacrosse stick in his hands. Since he arrived, he was ready to play and radiated energy. Finally on the field, he ran towards the person he wanted to see the most and stopped next to her, smiling under his helmet. 
“Hey there.”
“Hey,” she replied, her smile just as big.
A loud whistle startled them both, but it was the calling of their names that made them break out in a cold sweat. Sweats of horror. Sweats…
Of terror.
“Stilinski! Finstock! Stop flirting and go go go!!” Coach yelled in their direction. 
Stiles shared a frightened look with his girlfriend, the fear of being found out strong in their veins. “Do you think he knows?”
“We were careful,” Y/n whispered as she ran to the other side of the field to start the practice match again. “But I can ask him after practice,” she offered, but seeing the fear in Stiles’ eyes, she felt compelled to specify “subtly, obviously.”
“Your dad scares me,” he added, getting into position.
“I know,” Y/n replied with a sigh. “I know.”
-
Your pov
The practice match was over. Although usually, playing Lacrosse managed to cure all of your daily life stresses and struggles, this time, even the sport that you knew and loved couldn’t stop the tornado of thoughts that invaded your mind.
Did your father find out about your relationship with Biles or not???
If so, you had to do everything to protect him, otherwise you were afraid for his life.
But first of all, you had to ask your father, subtly, if he had any doubts about the nature of your relationship with the number 24.
“Good job tonight Y/n! Dad’s proud of you!” 
You had just returned to the stands when Coach walked to you, a friendly pat of encouragement on the back. Usually, you would have been really delighted -your father's compliments were as precious as a treasure lost for hundreds of years- but stress prevented all good feelings from existing. For the last hour, you've been reciting what you were going to say, how to ask him, how to bring up the subject without seeming suspicious, how-
“I was thinking, hotdogs for dinner. You down?” Your father asked, cutting off all your concentration and courage to ask him. 
“Sure, uhm, dad, I uh… I wanted to-” 
“Why don’t you invite your boyfriend too?” 
You froze. Literally, your whole body turned to marble and you were stuck in the last position you had been in, mouth open, one hand outstretched towards him. Coach was putting away your equipment in your bag, completely unaware of what he just did by asking that simple question.
“Uh?”
“I think it’s time Stilinski acts like a man and steps up for his girl,” your father continued, glancing at you. Then, straightening up, he raised his voice and added: “STILINSKI! COME OVER HERE.”
Like a good soldier, Biles rushed towards Coach and you, leaving everything he was doing behind.
He was missing a shoe.
“Yes, Coach, I’m here, Stilinski, that’s me, reporting, present, right here.” With both hands on his hips, Biles looked at you, then at your father, then back at you, asking a thousand and one silent questions with his facial expressions.
“Hot dogs. You like em?” 
“Yes, sir, love them, enjoy them, delicious, delicate food, truly amazing,” Biles nodded, sweat rolling down his forehead, definitely not from the practice match that had ended 15 minutes ago already.
“Alright. You are eating dinner with us tonight. I think it’s time you stop hiding, you two, gosh,” the coach rolled his eyes and threw his arms in the air, exasperated. For your part, you were still frozen. Your father started to walk away with your sport bag under his arm but suddenly he stopped to turn towards you. “And Stiles?”
“Yes, sir, yes, that’s me, yes?” Your boyfriend responded automatically, his body straightening to form a perfectly vertical straight line.
“You should stop parking in front of my car. I have eyes. Be there for 7!”
With these words, your father disappeared into the school parking lot, where he would wait for you to go back home. But for now...
“Holy shit I’m dead, right?” 
“Wait, your name is STILES? Not Biles???” You exclaimed, turning towards him.
“Is that really what you remember from the conversation?!” 
“You’re not denying it!!”
“I’m gonna die tonight!” 
“You’re gonna be fine, Stiles!” You couldn't believe it. Not only your dad knew about your relationship, but you had completely shamed yourself by not even knowing your boyfriend's real name. “I’ve been calling you the wrong name all this time…” 
You hid your face in your hands. 
“Hey hey…” Warmth settles on your hands, and slowly, Stiles freed your face and gently lift your chin to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry for not telling you. But I kind of… liked it, you calling me Biles. It was our thing…” Stiles smiled, and damn, that smile was magical. You just couldn’t feel bad having someone so perfect near you. 
“I feel stupid,” you furrowed your brows, your expression pouty.
“If it can make you feel better,” Stiles continued, putting an arm around your shoulders to start walking towards the parking lot with you. “I’ll be dead after tonight, probably,” he added with a laugh. “And also, my real name is not Stiles.”
You stopped walking to look at him. “Really.”
“Yeah. But I’ll only tell you if I survive tonight’s dinner.”
“Alright,” you laughed as you continued walking with him, obvious relief being felt in your heart. It was so nice not to have to hide. “I think I can help with that, Biles. But…” You glanced down.
“Hm?”
“You’re missing a shoe.”
“Oh, I know.”
-
Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa​​ @wickedinspirations​@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore
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patolemus · 4 months ago
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ao3 is down. i was in the middle of a cliffhanger. i may or may not be freaking out right now
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daintylovers · 7 months ago
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dating stiles stilinski aesthetic
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lfzyxf · 7 months ago
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hi, can you do tiktok trends with stiles? like y/n doing them on him or with him. (does that make sense?)
Stiles Stilinski x reader
A bit on the shorter side but I hope you like it! I went with half headcanons and half story to explain it better. Don't be afraid to request more stuff if you like this!!
Word count: 474
Masterlist
Stiles would love to do more silly trends for sure! The one with the “you’re spinning me around; my feet are off the ground” audio came straight to mind.
Or maybe the one where you play rock, paper, scissors, and the winner gets to eat while the loser runs away and back? He’d be shoving the food in his mouth before you can make it back for sure!
You could try to do the trend where you try to hip thrust, squat, deadlift… each other, but I’m not sure how far he would get. Especially in the earlier seasons, he’s not getting far.
If you really enjoy doing these videos with him, he is all for it. Just come up with an idea and he’s game. He might even get Scott to join you guys for some TikTok’s. Really, he’d do anything for you if it makes you happy.
If you’re not the biggest fan he wouldn’t push you, but he might ask if you’d like to do a trend occasionally. Just say yes, and he’ll be elated.
I don’t think he’d post them for everyone to see just for your friends.
Scott is responding to every single Tiktok you guys make. Especially ones where he’s in or if he’s the one filming.
Allison and Lydia are just your personal fangirls. Responding to TikTok’s with heart eyes emojis and little comments about how cute you guys are.
“And after that you have to pick me up.” You instruct while staring at the video playing on your phone. “What if I drop you?” Stiles asks, his eyes are narrow as he stares at the Tiktok playing. You’ve been trying to get the dance right; he barely has to do anything and yet he is the one struggling. “Just don’t?” you reply looking at him incredulously.
“I don’t know, that seems like a dangerous move.” He leans back, and one of his hands is resting on his hip. “Stop being dramatic, it’s been fifteen minutes, and we still haven’t gotten it down.” You’re getting close to giving up, you might as well ask Allison to do it with you instead. “Okay, okay, I got it. Let’s go again.” He nods while speaking, almost trying to convince himself more than you.
You simply shake your head before getting back in position. You stand next to him, one of his hands above your head as you spin in a circle a few times. Next, he moves behind you, his arms under yours as he picks you up for a few seconds, before gently putting you down again. “See, I can do it! I’ve got this.” He tells you, standing confidently next to you.
You nod at him, laughing slightly “We’re only halfway done Stiles.” He claps his hands before moving to stand next to you again. “What’s next boss?”
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kaiyatoast · 10 months ago
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peachy - theo raeken
summary: theo gives you a ride home pairings: theo raeken x gn!reader w/c: 1147
“theo’s staring at you.”
your head snapped up from the ground, turning in the direction of your strawberry blonde best friend. you gave her a questioning look and she pointed in the boy’s direction. you looked there and sure enough, he was looking straight at you. your cheeks heated up and you smiled softly at him, feeling the usual fluttering of your heart whenever you looked at him.
it was obvious you had some sort of attraction towards him. before he killed your brother, after he killed him, and after he came back from hell. you’ve always found him good looking. how his soft brown hair fell over his face, his gorgeous blue eyes, the small smile on his soft, kissable lips that was always present around you, his really nice bice-
“y/n! are you listening?” stiles exclaimed, jolting you out of your thoughts. your cheeks heated up further as you looked away from theo. you nodded sheepishly. lydia nudged you with a small smirk and a wink. in turn, you playfully growled at her, showing her your fangs. she rolled her eyes at you and linked your arms together.
you kept yourself from staring at theo for the rest of the pack meeting, only glancing at him every so often. every time you looked at him, he’d already have his eyes on you with a small smile on his face. when the meeting was over, everyone left. you walked off with lydia and she was already grilling you.
“are you going to do anything?” she asked. you gave her a confused look.
“do what with who?”
“theo. are you going to do anything about your very obvious attraction to him?” the strawberry blonde asked you. you shook your head as scott joined you, walking alongside you.
“it is not obvious,” you scowled. both lydia and scott looked at each other before looking back at you.
“it’s very obvious, y/n. everyone could see how attracted you are to each other,” lydia said. scott nodded.
“we could even smell it,” he added with a boyish grin. you rolled your eyes at your alpha and best friend.
“fine. but it’s one sided. but i do not have that much attraction to him anyways,” you lied.
“we know you’re lying,” lydia and scott said. you walked backwards so that you were facing them.
“i’m not lying,” you lied again. “what would i be attracted to anyways? his eyes? hair? face? body? nuh uh, i don’t think so.”
“i think it’s all of it,” lydia piped in unhelpfully. you gave her a flat look before continuing.
“besides, all this attraction is only temporary. i haven’t been crushing on him for a while,” you said and lydia gave you an unconvinced look. scott glanced behind you but you ignored it.
“besides, i’ll just avoid him so i don’t have to deal with his goodlooking-ness,” you continued with a nod.
“who are you avoiding?” a familiar voice asked and you turned, almost tripping over your two feet. you felt the usual flutter in your stomach when theo gave you a small smirk.
“uh, no one?” you said, biting the insides of your cheek. he chuckled and the sound made you smile.
“oh! theo! you’re here! perfect. can you drop y/n? i have things that i need to do and scott has some place he needs to be, thanks,” lydia said before pulling scott with her so that you were left alone with theo.
goddamnit lydia.
“uh, you don’t have to drop me, i think stiles is still here,” you said, biting your lips.
“it’s fine, i’ll drop you off,” theo said with the charming smile still on his face. he held his hand to you and without any hesitation, you took it. he interlocked your fingers as you walked to his truck. the two of you talked as he drove, with one of his hands on your thigh. your eyes kept glancing down at it before looking up again.
you tried to focus on the conversation, but it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the warmth on your thigh. or how his hand covered your entire thigh. and wow, he had really nice hands. you wondered how his hands would fe-
“y/n? you alright?” theo asked. your eyes snapped up to meet his. 
“yep, all cool,” you nodded. all was decidedly not cool, but that was because of the warmth you could feel. and the tingles. you wondered what it would feel like on yo-
“are you sure? you seem really distracted,” theo smirked. he could probably hear how your heartbeat was all over the place. he parked the car in front of your house, turning to focus on you. 
“yes i’m sure. everything’s peachy.”
“peachy?”
"yes peachy. everything's fine and peachy. thanks for the ride, raeken." you glared at him, suddenly mad at him for teasing you when he knew that you had a not-really-there, tinsy-small crush on him. 
you turned to open the door, but before you could, his hand reached out to grasp your forearm.
"what, theo?" you asked, your anger dissipating. you knew that you were unfair to him, and that you were truly annoyed at yourself, for not saying anything, but also not being able to get over him.
"sorry, it was unfair for me to snap at you."
"it's alright. you wanna tell me what's really on your mind? and what got you so annoyed?"
you let out a small, unamused laugh. "no, it's alright. i'll get over it. don't worry about it. you probably have something better to do."
"you're right. i have something better to do," theo agreed. the words came originally from your lips, but it still caused you to flinch.
you gave him a tight smile. "okay. wouldn't want to take up more of your time."
you turned to the door again, using your other hand to open the door and pulling your arm from him. "thanks for the ride."
you heard him growl. before you could ask him what his problem was, you felt theo pull you in by your shoulders and your lips on his.
it took you a moment before you could respond. you kissed him back, just as he was about to pull away. you melted into the kiss, and into his hand, which moved to gently hold your face.
you moved your hand to the front of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. his tongue nudged your lips, and you obliged, opening them to meet his.
when you had to come up for air, you moved back, but theo rested his forehead against yours.
"told you i had better things to do," theo grinned. you rolled your eyes, but before you could retort, he lifted you up and sat you on his lap, moving in to kiss you again.
yep, definitely better things to do
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maria021015 · 7 months ago
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Teen Wolf characters as dogs and why.
1. Stiles Stilinski - German Shepherd
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Stiles is for sure a German Shepherd for the following reasons;
- Police dogs
- Can be aggressive and hostile towards strangers
- Is hyper-vigilant
- Can be highly strung
- Has way too much energy for his own good
- Intelligent, Loyal, Protective, Stubborn, Curious, Brave
2. Scott McCall - Golden Retriever
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Scott is a Golden Retriever for the following reasons;
- Kind, Friendly, Reliable, Trustworthy, Playful, Devoted, and Patient
- Eager to Please
- Great with strangers/too trusting of strangers
- A gentle and loving nature
3. Lydia Martin - Pomeranian
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Lydia is a Pomeranian for the following reasons;
- Both bright, loyal, brave, curious, feisty, playful, and bold
- Can be attention-seeking
- Very extroverted and social
- Great hair
4. Allison Argent - Rhodesian Ridgeback
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Allison is a Rhodesian Ridgeback for the following reasons;
- Both energetic, playful, independent and loving
- Can be really aggressive and stubborn
- Dignified, Sensitive, Intelligent, Mischievous, Loyal, Strong Willed
- Natural watch dogs and family protectors
5. Isaac Lahey - Chihuahua
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- Can be skittish and lash out with violence
- Talks the talk but often can’t walk the walk (yappy)
- Alert, Courageous, Devoted,
- Strong attachment to owners (or alphas)
- Do better in calm environments
- Prone to nervousness and anxiety
6. Derek Hale - Pitbull
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Derek is a Pitbull for the following reasons;
- Has a bad reputation for being aggressive but this is due to bad stigma
- Stubborn, can be aggressive, athletic, loyal, courageous, strong-willed
- However they can be very affectionate and gentle
DISCLAIMER: Credit to the following user who has a similar post. I got a lot of these ideas from them, but wanted to contribute with my own perspective too.
BONUS - My oc Zaida Callis - Australian Shepherd/Boarder Collie
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- Intelligent, fast-learners, hard-working, loyal, affectionate, devoted, loves family life, protective,
- Can become destructive if bored and not provided the proper mental and physical stimulation
- Can be aggressive towards perceived threats
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meadowbrookprophecy · 7 months ago
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what we think our ravenclaw boy oc, leo, looks like:
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what he probably actually looks like:
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read our slytherin boys fanfic (featuring this cutie patootie!) here!!
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itsjustrosee · 6 months ago
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NEEDS Void Stiles x fem!reader
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Context: Stiles and the reader have a flirty-friendship, but aren't in an established relationship. When Stiles gets possessed by the nogitsune, he comes to the readers house who is unaware that he's been possessed.
Warnings: Spice
Wordcount: 1.1k
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You slept peacefully in your bed until your eyes began to flutter open. Your mind groggily catches up to you as you slowly adjust to the lack of light in your room. As you sit up slightly, you shiver at your bedroom's surprisingly low temperature.
Even within the comfort and safety of your bed, drowning in the endless sea of covers and blankets that had now engulfed it, you still found your teeth clattering against each other.
Your eyes dart to the window in your room, which you could've sworn you closed before you went to sleep, but for some reason, was open now. The window's curtains blew in the wind after yet another cold breeze entered your room.
You muttered a curse under your breath once you finally built up the courage to leave the warmth of your bed and shut the window. You planted both your feet on the frigid floor and crossed your arms against your chest.
Very slowly, you made your way to the window, letting out a huff as you used both hands to close it shut. You turned around and leaned your back on the window, closing your eyes and sighing as you did so.
Once you opened them however, you saw someone standing in front of your bedroom door. At first, you were under the impression that your mind was playing tricks on you, but as you continued staring at the tall figure leaning on your door with his arms crossed, you realized that this wasn't just a figment of your imagination.
"H-Hello?" You whisper at the person and for some reason, your half-asleep brain thought it would be a good idea if you took a step closer to him. Upon further inspection, you realized that there wasn't just some random crazed lunatic in your room, it was Stiles.
"Wait- Stiles? Is that you?"
"Yes, it is. Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," He replies, his voice genuine, yet so low and husky that it sent a shiver down your spine.
He pushed off the door and walked towards you, his eyes raking your body up and down, eyeing you as if he was trying to commit this image of you to his memory. As he stared at your bare legs you came to the realization that you were standing in front of him in just a pair of low-rise shorts and a small tank top.
"What are you doing here?" You ask curiously while crossing your arms in an attempt to cover up the amount of skin you have exposed.
"I just felt like paying you a visit," He says as a grin plays on the edges of his lips, "I've missed you," He adds, his voice growing quieter as he steps even closer to you, placing his hands lightly on your hips as he does so.
"Is that so?" You reply with a soft chuckle while leaning closer and placing your hands on his shoulders.
You didn't know what it was, but at that moment something was drawing you to him. You couldn't help but entertain whatever had gotten into him which had compelled him to be so bold towards you.
"Mhm," He mumbled as he moved one of his hands to your cheek, the skin on his palm was surprisingly warm, causing you to melt into his touch. Heat cast off of his body as he pulled you closer, your chest pressing against his.
Stiles's eyes darted from yours down to your lips as he continued to look at you. The air was filled with tension that radiated so powerfully of desire and longing that it clouded your better judgment.
"You really are gorgeous, you know that right?" Stiles murmured, as he tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear. His deep hazel eyes continue to stare at you, admiring all of your features.
You felt your cheeks grow red as Stiles took your chin in his fingers, lifting your head up and forcing you to return his gaze as your face was now only mere inches away from his. As you finally looked into his eyes, you noticed a glimmer of primal hunger behind them.
Suddenly he took your lips in his, encasing them in a long and passionate kiss. He continued to merge his lips against yours as he moved his hand from your cheek to the back of your head, his hand gently tugging at your hair as he kissed you harder.
You opened your mouth slightly, allowing Stiles's tongue to enter and explore every inch of it. As he continued to taste you, you moved your hands to the back of his neck.
Stiles pulled away momentarily, pushing you against your bedroom wall before picking up where he left off, claiming your lips once more in a hungry kiss. He brought his hands on the back of your upper thighs, signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist.
One of his hands stayed on your ass, keeping you propped up on the wall while the other began to trail up your torso, going under your tank top and cupping your breast.
You moaned into his mouth, his touch sending shockwaves through your body. After hearing the noise, Stiles's arousal only grew greater causing him to harden against his jeans.
His fingers found their way to your nipple, pinching it lightly between his thumb and index finger. Stiles groaned while his tongue continued to tangle with yours as you arched your back into him.
Stiles pulled away, biting down on your bottom lip slightly as he did so. He opened his mouth to speak, his heart beating against your chest as he caught his breath after the heated kiss you both shared.
"You're all mine," He growled possessively, a grin playing on his lips as he turned his attention to your neck, kissing and marking it with hickeys as he made his way down to your collarbone. He bites and then sucks on your sensitive skin, causing you to moan out in pain and pleasure.
Eventually, he brought his head back up to the side of yours before whispering into your ear, "I need more of you," He pleaded while nibbling slightly on your earlobe.
His words sent a shiver down your spine, the ache between your legs growing more prominent. The tension in the room was electrifying as his eyes met yours.
"Whatever you need, I'll give it to you," You murmured softly.
Stiles grinned at you as if that was exactly what he had been waiting to hear you say. He encased your lips in one final kiss before carrying you to your bed.
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ahhhh omg another stiles fic. Thought I should take a break from all the wholesomeness in my other fics with him 😜I'll start working on my requests now that I've finished this.
BTW THANK ALL OF YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT I'VE BEEN GETTING LIKE WHAT???? YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET I'M LITERALLY ON THE FLOOR PASSING AWAY RIGHT NOW.
deadass tho, I love every single one of you, thank you for all of the notes, reblogs and comments, each and every one of them makes my day <33
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hedwig221b · 3 months ago
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Do you by chance have BAMF Stiles recs? I'm reading your stories and all you rec so thank you for being awesome!!
Thank you so much! One wouldn't know by looking at my fics, but I absolutely adore BAMF!Stiles lol. He's a delight!
Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill
"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them."
The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.
The Roads Not Followed by SylvieW
Scott decides to leave Beacon HIlls with Allison and her father. Stiles is left alone to deal with the supernatural troubles of his home town, so he turns to Derek.
Years later, Scott’s new pack is threatened, and the only ones who can help them are the Hale pack and Derek’s powerful mate.
Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer
After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.
This is Ridiculous by zosofi
There's a unicorn in Beacon Hills. A fricken' unicorn. In fricken' Beacon Hills, California. And it turns out that unicorns aren't drawn towards virgins in a happy-go-lucky let-me-lay-my-not-at-all-metaphorical-horn-in-your-lap way. No. They kill them. And guess who's the only virgin idiotic enough to get sucked into the Beacon Hills supernatural scene? Stiles, that's who.
A Tangled Refuge by wanderingeyre
The Hale House has been rebuilt for the past five years and for all five of those years, it’s been a sanctuary for supernaturals that needed a place to stay, a halfway point, a place to recuperate, or a place to be safe from whatever was on their tail. Word traveled quickly in the small world of the supernatural and now they rarely had to seek out people who needed help. Most came to them.
What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt
“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”
Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.
“What?! What was that sound?!”
“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.
“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”
“Mike,” she argued.
“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.
“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.
Came For The Spark, Stayed For The Flame
Derek felt the panic build up in his chest as Jezebel held out a hand. He smelled it before he saw it, because who could forget the scent of what destroyed your life? Fire and spark and smoke curled from Jezebel's hands, and the wood stacked at Stiles' feet flared up.
When Stiles and Derek get bonded as Emissary-and-Alpha, hidden attractions become a lot harder to hide, secrets are kept and secrets are surfaced, and an evil teenage girl is planning even more ritualistic sacrifice. Canon divergence from the end of 3a.
Dangerous by jjmash
There are a lot of things that the pack doesn’t know about Stiles.
Some of it is little things he simply has no reason to mention, like how he almost failed organic chemistry his first semester at Stanford. Some of it is bigger stuff that he just can’t bring himself to think about, like the nightmares that still plague most of his nights and trap him inside his own mind in increasingly horrific ways.
But most importantly, the pack doesn’t know all the ways in which Stiles has transformed during his time away from them. He doesn’t need fangs and claws to be dangerous.
The Person You'd Take a Bullet For (is Behind The Trigger) by SadieHerondale
The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but until he gets Derek back, Stiles' actions are going to be worse than bad. And he will get Derek back, come hell or high water.
Something More Than Human by gatergirl79
Stiles Stilinski has a secret, a huge secret. A secret that will change the way everyone sees him. No, he hasn't been bitten by a werewolf. Stiles Stilinski is the product of a government experiment to create the perfect soldier, a human weapon. As a second generation transgenic, Stiles has been living a normal life with his dad in Beacon Hills, playing the role of klutzy sidekick to his werewolf best friend. All that changes however when Derek saves his life, Stiles finds himself slowly embracing who he really is. - But at what cost?
Red Witch by rootbeer
The red hair of a banshee. The red eyes of an alpha. The red hoodie of a mage. The red of fire burning.
Derek Hale has been a prisoner to the hunters since they burned his family alive. But now someone has come to save him: skinny, defenseless Stiles--147 lbs of skin and fragile bones. Turns out, sarcasm isn't his only weapon.
Oh my (let me look at those eyes) by Gorgeousgreymatter
A few months ago, he might’ve been able to solve this with some force—a little man-handling, a snarl, a glimpse of teeth. But he looks at Stiles’s broken face, knows he’s seen too much horror and blood and evil, the whole Big Bad Wolf routine is just going to fall flat. Because Derek looks at Stiles and he doesn’t carry himself like a teenager anymore. He carries himself like a soldier.
Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | magical Stiles | mafia | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | creature!Stiles | bad friend Scott
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illiterateaffairs · 3 months ago
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breaking point | stiles x reader
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masterlist
pairing: stiles stilinski x f!reader (best friend/witch)
word count: 2,589
warnings: brief mention of having a period but one sentence! cursing, angst, kissing (oh my!)
summary: set at the end of 3b. you pride yourself on being the strong one in the pack so your friends don't have to be. but after recent events - watching stiles get possessed, losing allison and aiden - you can't push your feelings away any longer. thankfully, there's a sweet boy outside your window ready to be there for you this time.
author's note: i have so much i can say about the world in which this story lives but don't want to drone on and on...so another note at the end and more to come. hope you enjoy! <3 (and for anyone following me for jamie tartt x reader content...do not give up on me yet!)
You couldn’t remember the last time you cried. 
You think it had to have been when you were a kid. Maybe a scraped knee. Maybe after you had rewatched Bambi for the thousandth time.
What you do remember is the core reason you stopped letting yourself cry. 
Seeing Scott after his parents divorced taught you there were worse things in life than cuts and scrapes. You’ll never forget the look on his face the day his dad moved out. You and Stiles tried every trick in the book to make him smile but it took days for you to see his crooked grin again. 
Though, that was nothing compared to when Stiles lost his mom.
You had never experienced grief like that, that wasn’t a cartoon animal in a movie. It was anyone’s guess why your families let Scott and you attend the funeral, but the three of you were already codependent by eight years old. You were overwhelmed by the sight of seeing your silly, sweet best friend cry so hard, and it was harder to watch his dad fight through his own tears. Even Scott got choked up. But not you. 
Of course, you were just as devastated. Claudia was like a mother to you. But observing the equally upset people trying to comfort young Stiles made you want to be the one person in the room who could just be there for him and let him mourn. Even as a little girl, you had the selfless instinct to put your feelings aside and prioritize your friend’s.
You stay strong so they don’t have to; that became your mantra, even subconsciously. 
No matter what shit you were going through, you swallowed your own fears, pain, and anger so you could be there for whoever needed you. And that decision soon became a part of your programming. Even if no one was around, you never let yourself break, no matter the situation. 
You stopped crying during movies, no matter how depressing. 
The first time you experienced period cramps so bad you had to stay home from school, you just bit your tongue and didn’t shed a tear. 
As you transitioned to middle school school, and into high school, and your feelings for Stiles went from innocent crush to more, you pushed any heartbreak down when he looked right past you at Lydia Martin. 
Admittedly things have gotten harder the last year. Being there when Scott was bitten by a werewolf was startling but you swallowed your fear for him and focused on his well-being. You even held it together when you started learning of your own supernatural abilities and family secrets that changed everything you thought you knew about yourself. In moments of danger and near-death, you focused on making sure Stiles was okay. Making sure Allison was okay. Lydia, Derek, Isaac, even Jackson at times. You were physically incapable of taking a minute to assess how you felt about things, your mind just redirecting to concern for your friends and loved ones. 
There were some close calls. Mainly when it came to Stiles.
The night he played his first lacrosse game with you cheering in the stands ended with Gerard kidnapping and scarring him. The second you saw his face afterwards, you nearly let the damn break. 
It was no surprise that the last few months were particularly challenging. You could hardly stomach watching Stiles, Scott, and Allison nearly sacrifice themselves to save their parents, your hands plunging Stiles into the ice cold water. It was nearly impossible to watch him become the shell of who he was in the weeks following until he wasn’t himself altogether. 
And then Allison…
You felt the loss of Erica and Boyd heavily but you knew Isaac and Derek were taking it harder, so you were there for them. However with Allison…she was one of your best friends and that made it infinitely more difficult to bear. But she was Lydia’s best friend. Scott’s first love. They needed you more than you needed to cope on your own. 
And then, tonight. Just as you finally put an end to the horror that was the Nogitsune, your pack was hit with another loss: Aiden. Lydia’s relationship with him was complicated, but that didn’t make her any less devastated as she ran out of the school and took in the scene. Holding your friend while she sobbed over the death of two of the most important people in her life is traumatizing, but reaffirming nonetheless; you had no right to cry when someone else was going through worse. 
It was an unhealthy and ridiculous thought, but it was what your brain had been conditioned. 
So here you were, slowly entering your room at an ungodly hour after making sure Lydia would be okay on her own. If it were up to you, you would have stayed with her, but she remained firm that she needed to be alone. And you trusted she meant that. You drop down onto the edge of your bed, heavily, the weight of the last few days - weeks, months, year - making you collapse. Normally, you could push any swirling thoughts away and mindlessly get ready for bed, but as you struggle to pull off your boots, your mind is racing. Scenes of Allison dying, Lydia’s scream, Scott’s face, Stiles collapsing, play in your head. Your lip is quivering. Your hands shake as you drag the shoe’s zipper down your leg. And then suddenly, the unfamiliar feeling of a hot tear streams down your face. You wipe at them hastily, trying to snap yourself out of it but they keep coming. 
You’re on the verge of hyperventilating when you sense someone outside your bedroom window, hearing something bump against it a second later. Without another thought, you’re up and pulling the curtain open, your hand nearly raised to cast one hell of a spell on whoever could be lurking outside at this time after the night you experienced. But your stomach drops when you see Stiles perched on the other side of the glass. Even quicker now, you pull open the window and yank him inside anxiously. 
“Woah, you’re quick. I didn’t even get a chance to knock,” Stiles mutters softly.
“Stiles!” you gasp out as quietly as I can, “What the hell are you doing? You should be in your home, asleep, resting, safe! And you’re risking your life for the second time tonight climbing up here!”
As you scold him, your hands grip onto his flannel, searching him up and down for any sign of distress. 
“Hey, hey, hey,” Stiles whispers, his hands reaching out to gently rub your shoulders, “I’m okay, I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not,” you shake your head, “You should be home. You should be with your dad, the last few weeks have been killing him.”
“I texted him,” Stiles bypasses quicker than he should, “I just wanted to see you.”
You look up at him for the first time since he’s been in the room, your eyebrows pinching, “You what?”
“Yeah, I…” Stiles pauses as he observes your face. He gently lifts his right hand to cup your face gently, his thumb wiping a tear, “You’re crying.”
Shit. You’d forgotten about that. 
You swallow thickly, making half a move to pull away from him, but he’s instinctive and doesn’t let you get far. You start shaking your head, averting your gaze again and aggressively wiping at your own face in another attempt to hide. 
“No, I’m okay. I’m fine.” you insist.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Stiles argues. 
“No it's not,” you shake your head more, “God you shouldn’t be comforting me, you almost died tonight.” 
“But you’re allowed to be upset. A lot has been happening.” 
“But Lydia and Scott…”
“No, Allison was your friend, too. It's been a rough few days...”
“No, Stiles, stop, it's not that!” your voice cracks as you quietly exclaim, looking at him firmly now, “The last few days have been…awful. I am so sad about Aiden, and I am devastated about Allison, but I can’t stop thinking about how Scott and Lydia must feel.”
Stiles sighs, “You cared about them too.”
“I know that, but Lydia lost her boyfriend and her best friend within days. Scott lost, like, the love of his life. And that’s what makes my stomach hurt. My mind keeps going to how much it must be hurting them, and I can’t even comprehend it- I can’t even go there because it seems excruciating. And then I feel guilty for even thinking about that, when that’s not what happened to me. They lost their person, and you’re still…” 
Your voice trails off when you realize the implication of what you’re saying.
He’s your person and he’s still here. 
You feel your eyes widen as you process what you just admitted to your best friend. You take in his own surprised expression as he realizes it, too. His hands are still on either side of your face as you look down and sputter, trying to form another coherent sentence. 
“I just meant…so many bad things have happened the last few days, but the one thing I can't stop thinking about is how I almost lost you tonight…” you whisper. You force yourself to look at him again and his lips part, still in a state of…shock? Awe? 
When he doesn’t say anything after a few seconds, you hurry to fill the silence. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be saying or thinking any of this.”
You make another attempt to pull away from him, but he pulls you closer. 
“No, no,” he whispers.
“You don’t have to say anything to make me feel better, in fact that’s the last thing you should be doing,” you continue rambling.
“Hey, stop it. You don’t ever have to apologize, especially not to me. Just because someone may have gone through worse, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to react or mourn or feel. You’re always so strong for us but it's okay not to be sometimes. And…” Stiles takes a deep breath, “You’re not the only one thinking about what-ifs tonight.” 
You look at him curiously as he continues. 
“What if I had been stronger? None of this would have happened - that thing couldn’t possess me. What if I had been smarter and figured out how to stop the Nogitsune sooner? What if I had really hurt you when he was in control? What if he targeted you the other night or tonight? What if we lost you instead. Despite everything that happened with everyone there, I can't stop thinking about you, you, you. What if I had lost you?” 
You feel your eyes beginning to well up again, at your body’s mercy with no way of stopping it. You could hardly process Stiles' words, in disbelief of the weight they carried. 
“Stiles…” you whisper, but are unable to complete the thought. 
“That’s why I’m here. I couldn’t stomach being away from you right now.” Stiles pauses, before taking a deep breath and continuing, “I'm sorry for not saying it sooner, and sorry for every second you have spent thinking I don’t feel the way you do. You are the most important person in my life, and all I care about half the time. I am…crazy about you. Maybe that’s a poor word choice after my mental state the last few weeks, but it’s true. And if I’ve learned anything from all of this, it's that life's too short. And I don’t want to spend another moment of my life not being with you.”
You stare at Stiles, forced to blink away stray tears. Your heart is racing and you’re still unable to form words, with a million different thoughts swirling in your head.
Not encouraged by your silence, Stiles starts to grow anxious, slowly stepping back and removing his hands from your face as he speaks again, “Was that…way too much, way too fast?…I can go.”
You hardly let him move an inch before you’re stepping back into his space and holding his arms firmly in place. 
“You mean it?” You ask emotionally, “It’s not just the near death experience talking? You really mean it?”
Stiles nods excessively leaning closer, “Every word. You’re my person, too.”
Your lips twist, as if trying to smile but your emotions are all over the place and it just leads to you choking out a sob. In seconds, Stiles' hands move from your face to wrap tightly around your waist as you sink into his embrace.
“I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t wake up tonight.” You cry into his shoulder as he rocks you back and forth. 
“I’m here. I’m okay,” Stiles whispers soothingly, “Mostly because of you.” 
You try to steady your breath as you reply, “Scott and Kira did most of the work.”
Stiles rubs your back, “Not just the ritual tonight. The thought of getting back to you is what held together the last pieces of sanity I had left.” 
You slowly pull back so you can look up at him again, “Really?”
Stiles nods, reaching up to gently wipe your face, “Yeah…I don’t think I could have survived any of it without of you.”
You take a deep breath, briefly thinking about how much torture the last few weeks have been for him, but push the thoughts away when it becomes too much to stomach. You tenderly place your hands on his face. “I’m sorry we couldn't bring you back sooner.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t think about that. I’m here now, yeah?”
You nod, your eyes flicking around his face, taking in every detail you can see in your dimly lit room. “Yeah…”
Stiles gently brushes a piece of your hair back, whispering, “Right where I want to be.” 
As if by a gravitational pull, your face inches closer to him, your noses brushing first, before your lips finally meet in a soft, timid kiss. Your first real kiss. It only takes seconds for the two of you to become more comfortable, any trepidations fading away as you practically melt into each other. You sigh as his hands move down the curves of your body, your own hands gripping his hair. You would have never, ever pulled away if you didn’t need to breathe. Stupid lungs. 
You stay in contact, pressing your foreheads together. 
Breathing heavily, Stiles asks, “Can I…stay here tonight?”
You nearly laugh, “If you even had half a thought that I was going to let you leave after this, you’re out of your mind.” Not even a second goes by before you realize what you had said, your eyes going wide but then you see half an amused smile on his lips.
Stiles shakes his head, shushing you as he pulls you back in for another kiss. 
After a few more moments of kissing, and after you finally change and curl up in bed with him, your thoughts turn back to the recent events and you find yourself crying again. But unapologetically, comforted by Stiles' embrace and the fact that he was feeling the same things as you. And that it was okay to feel them. You both mourn Allison and all the friends you've lost. And eventually, you fall asleep in each other’s arms. The last few weeks had fully broken you. But it was okay, because you had someone to help pick up your pieces whenever you needed. And you’d be there to do the same for him. 
---
author's note: lmao i never know how to end things. but there it is! my first stiles fic in years. some may have read some of my old work from a years ago, but writing for stiles was my one of my first forays into fanfic over a decade ago. i always fall back on my stiles hyperfixation and with the return of fall, its back in full force.
i envision this work as part of the oc/reader character i've developed (mostly in my head) over the years, where she grew up as stiles and scott's best friend, pining over stiles and eventually finds out she is a witch. however, i never fully committed to a teen wolf rewrite, so i've written a few tidbits a while ago. i have an overall narrative i think she follows, but i also love the idea of playing with different ways stiles and the reader can get together, and this was the idea i've had most recently thinking about season 3b. i imagine the reader had already admitted to her feelings, but the timing wasn't right so she's finally giving into them and stiles finally reveals he reciprocates them. i could go on and on about the details for this "world" and the many alternate routes it can take.
let me know if anyone has any interest is seeing more of witch/bestie!reader x stiles in all of its shapes and forms, and feel free to inbox me any questions/thoughts/anything. also let me know what you thought of this! it finally got me writing again after a year, so i'm a little rusty, but eager to get back into it again <333
and again, i haven't forgotten my jamie series...i am trying to get over a hump of writers block for the next chapter but after that i'm locking in. :)
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teencopandthesourwolf · 9 months ago
Text
“Please.”
Stiles stands there, chewing on his pretty crimson lips, pleading.
Derek isn't fully clued in yet, but honestly, the kid is kind of vaguely breaking his heart.
“Please, Derek, I'm really sorry about this, but please just—just don't say anything, okay? And just—let me?”
Stiles had texted Derek earlier, at 3.17am, presumably just before he’d set off from his house to drive his jeep to the loft.
Derek had been lying awake in bed, unable to sleep.
His messages had read:
> dude, i rlly need to come over. that ok?
And:
> ill let myself in if thats cool?
And after a few moments, in quick succession one after the other and before Derek had a chance to respond:
> and i rlly need u to just like. not get out of bed. presuming yr already in bed
> all shall be revealed
> lol i don't know why i put that
> and obvs tell me if any of this is not ok. ok?
> as if you wouldn't lol
> #sourwolf
> and yeah i know im being a weirdo but thats why you like me
And then, a few seconds later:
> right?
Derek had stared at the flurry of messages for a minute or so, then texted back:
Okay, weirdo <
About ten minutes later, Stiles had let himself into the building. Derek listened to the kid muttering away to himself as he rode the old service elevator—except it wasn't really himself he was talking to.
“God, I hope I'm not wrong about this. Like, I think we're close enough now for it not to be weird. I mean, at least I hope we are. I'm just so fucking tired, man, and have got to get me some sleep. Anyways, just—don't get up, okay? Or, like, can you get into bed if you're not already in bed? Sorry, I know I texted you this already, I just really need you to trust me. You do know you can trust me… Right, big guy?”
Derek's trust of Stiles was implicit.
When the steel door had unlocked and slid open, Derek smelled fresh, mostly unscented shower gel over the base notes of Stiles's own cinnamon scent, mixed with the very definite chemo-signals that indicated fear, restlessness, apprehension—and also, the strongest of them all; hope.
Let me.
Here, now, Derek still doesn't know what the kid needs.
Let him what?
Derek doesn't have any more time to wonder, though, because Stiles is taking off his sneakers and pants and is slowly, very slowly—as if giving Derek the chance to protest—climbing into bed next to him.
Stiles is now in Derek's loft in the small hours, in Derek's bed, fully under Derek's covers, with Derek wearing only his grey tank and black boxer-briefs and a probably terrified look on his face.
He silently thanks the universe for the cover of night.
“Like, you should obviously say something if this is completely heinous or whatever, but otherwise just—let me do this?”
And all Derek can think is shit, he's freezing, at the same time he is going into a some sort of dumbstruck shock because Stiles is now wrapping his entire sinewy, beautiful body around the entirety of Derek's.
“This okay?” Stiles asks, the air around them spiking with the smell of his anxiety as he Big-Spoons Derek like some human-shaped octopus, skinny but strong limbs astonishingly everywhere.
And he sounds so unsure, and so small, and Derek can't bear it.
Not giving the stoic part of his brain any opportunity to talk him out of doing this, Derek takes ahold of Stiles's wrist from where the kid had draped one of his long arms around Derek's midriff, and hangs on as firmly but gently as he can, manoeuvring them both around in the bed so that Stiles is now the Little Spoon.
“This okay?” he asks gingerly, mirroring Stiles because his own words are failing him.
Stiles says, “Yeah. Even better,” and his anxiety is melting away into something much more pleasing; something like relief.
Derek breathes out the word, “Good,” and feels a little dizzy and a lot amazed, and kind of like his heart is beating wildly in his throat.
The only reason he knows it isn't, is because Stiles says, “I can feel your heart thumping away in your chest, man. But, uh, I don't have wolfy senses, so… I can't tell if it's good thumping or bad thumping.”
Then he promptly stops breathing.
Derek resists the desperate, learnt urge to run away from this. He mentally shakes himself and figures: After so many years fighting monsters together, maybe he and Stiles can fight this one together, too?
He gives himself a moment to ride out the panic, then screws his eyes shut and, praying to nobody in particular, whispers, “Good thumping,” into the shell of Stiles's ear.
Stiles shivers and breathes again, but doesn't say anything else. For once, he doesn't need to. He just needs to sleep.
As the kid settles into Derek's bed and Derek's embrace and, hopefully, Derek's life, he smells like a mix of serene and content and promise—and also, wonderfully, of Derek, now.
Derek is a strange combination of relaxed and freaking-the-fuck-out because that's just the way he's made. His brain won't stop whirring at a speed of a million miles an hour, worrying about everything and nothing, all at once, and before he can bite into his lip to stop himself, he blurts out, “Cora says I sometimes dream-talk about Cajun Gumbo recipes.”
Stiles's only sighs, then hums quietly, his breathing already evening out almost to the point of sleep.
Just when Derek thinks he's not going to get any sort of real answer, Stiles mumbles, “Okay, weirdo,” on an exhale, and then he's drifting off into unconsciousness.
Derek settles then, and smiles into the nighttime thinking that maybe, finally, he might get a good night's sleep, too.
.
for @shealynn88, the bestest of friends. i love you and miss you always... <3 (unedited btw—forgive me!)
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topazy · 3 months ago
Text
Blood moon
Pairing: Scott McCall x reader
Warnings: Swearing, smut
Chapter: 7.02
You step into the kitchen and drop the glass of orange juice from your hand as you jump backwards, startled by the figure leaning against the island in the middle of the room. So much for werewolf reflexes. Since the sleepover Wyatt was at got canceled, you had awkwardly suggested everyone regrouped at another location. As much as you cared for Lydia, you didn’t want your son near anything that was going on.
“Jesus McCall, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” You huff, looking down at the sticky liquid spreading fast across the floor. You grab a handful of kitchen rolls and dab at it before the juice runs onto your cream carpet in the next room.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to- Sorry. I just wanted to see if you were okay,” Scott said. He sighed, noticing you were avoiding his gaze. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine.”
Scott puffed out his cheeks, feeling defeated already. “I don’t usually ask when it comes to you and Isaac, but what’s going on? He left kind of abruptly.”
You re-enter the living room fidgeting with the silver band on your middle finger, the pad of your thumb feeling the small rubies on it. “Guys, I hate to do this, but Wyatt’s coming home, and I don’t want him around... whatever this is.”
Scott looks up at your alarm. “Why, what’s wrong?”
“He’s fine; his friend's mom just texted and said one of the kids started vomiting, so everyone’s gotta go.”
Isaac yanks his jacket from the back of the coat hanger. “I’ll go get him. Take him to the arcade or cinema.”
“He still needs to have his dinner.”
“Then I’ll take him for pizza first,” Isaac slams the front door behind him when he leaves the house.
You cock your head to the side, looking up at Scott, still irritated by your brother. “He’s just... he's got an issue with his girlfriend. Where did everyone else go?”
“The animal clinic.”
After all this time, no matter what changed throughout the years, Deaton’s vets was the safe place you and your friends gravitate towards whenever times are tough. A small smile creeps onto your face as you think about the times as teenagers when your pack would gather in the same place.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was just thinking how, after all this time, we still go to the same place for help.” You squeeze Scott’s shoulder. “Did I ever tell you I’m proud of you for becoming a vet?”
“Uhh, you have,” he chuckles. “But it means a lot coming from you, no matter how many times I hear it.”
“Are you staying here until Wyatt gets home?”
“Yeah,” he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll just let Stiles know I’ll catch up with them later.”
“Daddy!”
“Hey, little man.”
Smiling, Scott picks Wyatt up and kisses his cheek. “Where did Uncle Isaac take you?”
While your son fills his father in on all the fun games he played at the arcade, Isaac mumbles an apology as he walks by. He places a stuffed toy on the kitchen counter; it looks just like one I had as a girl. “I’m going to be out for the rest of the night,” he says. “I don’t know if you’ve seen it, but Stiles asked if someone who’s werewolf could spend the night in case he needs help with Lydia.”
“It’s probably for the best that someone is there for her. I think Scott was going to meet them at the vets.”
“Actually,” Scott walks over with Wyatt now sitting on his shoulders. “I was going to put this little monster to bed once he has showed me his new toys.”
Scott wasn’t outright asking, but from his tone, you knew it was a question. You smile, although he was a good dad. Scott never got to spend the same amount of time with your son as you did, which made him feel guilty. “Sure, but first he’s going for a bath.”
You yawn into the back of your hand, not wanting to interrupt Scott and Wyatt playing before bed. You curled up on the couch to watch a film. You’re starting to doze off when Scott comes back down the stairs and sits next to you, much to your surprise.
“Is he asleep already?”
“Yeah, probably a sugar crash.”
You reposition yourself on the couch so Scott has more space; the thick fluffy grey blanket covering your lap slides down at one side, revealing. Noticing, Scott pulls on the bottom of your nightgown, “cute.”
Your nightgown was light pink, silky, with little stars and moons on it.
“Don’t tease.”
Smirking, Scott lowers his head till your lips meet. At first the kiss is soft and gentle, but it quickly becomes heated. Feeling his hand on your bare thigh, your legs part, and Scott begins rubbing at the most sensitive spot through your underwear.
“Oh,” you slap your hand over your mouth to stop making noise.
Scott kisses your neck while sliding two of his fingers inside you, muffling his own groans. Just as you go to unzip his jeans, you open your eyes and notice the blinds had opened slightly and were now open, and something was outside looking in.
Abruptly, you push Scott’s hand away and jump to your feet. He stares at you alarmed, “Shit, did I hurt you?”
You shake your head, “There’s someone outside.”
“Keep an eye on the doors.” Without needing any further explanation, Scott sprints upstairs and then quickly runs back down with Wyatt in his arms. “Is it still there?”
You do your best to discreetly peek out of the window; at first you don’t see anything, but then you notice there’s a white mask left laying on the grass. “Not that I can see.”
He hands you Wyatt, who was still half asleep. “We gotta run for the car. Once we are inside, call Stiles and tell him we are going to the clinic, then call the police.”
You didn’t have time to ask questions, but something had scared the hell out of Scott as well.
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