#teen wolf imagines

[sourwulf]

stiles comes to you after his female anatomy class and asks you to help. he says he’s never even watched torn so has never even seen a vagina, but yours is the first one he winds up seeing and eating out

༄  word count  —  2.3k

፨  characters  —  stiles stilinski

☓  tw  —  none

⊹  cw  —  smut & oral, losing of virginity

☼  a/n— i have... severely neglected this blog

✎  masterlist

─

you were sitting on your couch watching tv, a root beer flavored sucker between your lips. you were channel surfing, nothing catching your eye. your front door opened unannounced, making your head whip towards it.

after it closed, the familiar face of stiles poked around the corner.

you sighed, glad it wasn't an intruder.

"hey," you greeted. "ever heard of knocking?"

"sorry, it's raining and the door was unlocked. i figured you wouldn't mind."

he kicked his shoes off and walked over to sit next to you, mimicking your position by crossing his arms.

"what flavor is that?" he asked, looking at the stick in your mouth.

"root beer."

"nice."

"so what's up?"

"i was hoping you could help me study."

"as long as it's not math."

"honestly, i kinda wish it was."

"why? what is it?"

"so... it's for my health class. we're doing a human anatomy course for the sex ed unit."

"and you need my help... why?"

"well... it's female anatomy." you raised your eyebrows. "you're the only person i'm comfortable with asking for help on this."

you just looked at him for a second before taking in a deep breath and turning off the tv.

"alright, fine."

within a couple of minutes you were both upstairs on your bed. you sat against your headboard, him laying on his side horizontal across the bed with his assignment in front of him.

so far, it was just multiple choice and fill in the blank questions. he was reading them out, getting your answers.

"what do the ovaries do?" he asked, a diagram of the uterus, ovaries, and fallopian tubes above the questions, with lines to label each.

"make hormones and contain eggs."

he skimmed the answers, finding the one that fit that description the best.

once he finished that chart, he flipped the page to see a very detailed diagram of a vagina, also with lines pointing to specific parts of it for him to label.

he looked at it for a moment, as if he was really studying it.

"vulva."

"i'm pretty sure that's just an all-inclusive word to include everything."

he circled the right answer

"what is the... clitoris? did i say that right?"

hearing stiles say the word 'clitoris' was a bit weird, but to be fair most people don't really say the full word.

"are you really asking me what the clit is?"

"yeah, what is it?"

you looked at him slightly in disbelief, chuckling a bit.

"come on, stiles."

"what?"

you were dumbfounded. everyone knows what the clit is.

"you've never even heard the word?"

"i've heard of it, i just don't know what it is."

"it's kind of obvious if you're looking at a vagina."

he shrugged. "never seen one. well, other than this drawing."

now this left you stunned. never seen a vagina? how was it possible for a teenage boy to never have seen one?

"you've watched porn, though."

he shook his head. "nope."

somehow he continued to shock you more with every sentence.

"never?"

"never."

"stiles, you're a teenage boy, and you're telling me you've never watched porn?"

"never needed to."

"the clitoris is... it's like a little bud above the vaginal opening. it's full of nerve endings and it's really only there for pleasure purposes."

"huh. interesting. can i ask you a question?"

"shoot."

"does every vagina look like this?"

"what do you mean?"

"like... are they all identical?"

"uh... no. every vagina is different. just like every penis is different. some of them are dangly, some are hairy, it just depends on the person."

"does yours look like this?"

your eyebrows dipped.

"did you really just ask me that?"

"i thought i was allowed to ask questions."

"yeah, general questions."

"that is a general question."

you sighed. "similar. but not really. i mean, they all have the same basic parts. but the anatomy is different sometimes."

he nodded. "wish i could see a real one up close."

it was kind of funny, how he was talking about vaginas like a specimen he could study.

"you will someday." he made eye contact with you and raised his eyebrows slightly. "stiles. you're not implying what i think you are, are you?"

"i mean... i'm not gonna say no."

"i'm not showing you my vagina!"

"that's not what i was asking, pervert," he said in an unconvincing tone.

to be completely honest, you weren't completely against the idea. the best way to learn was to see the real thing, not just a drawing.

you sighed. "fine." his eyes lit up a bit. "on one condition."

"mm?"

"no touching. only looking."

he nodded.

"sounds fair to me."

you could not believe you were fully exposing yourself to him right now, your vagina just out. your upper body was propped up on your pillows, your knees bent and thighs spread with his eyes glued to you.

"and no judging my lack of shaving."

he shrugged. "doesn't bother me."

he was looking at you like it was a book and he was reading every word.

"this is kinda weird, right?" you asked, trying to break the tension. and trying to distract him from the fact that his gaze was causing you to grow wetter and wetter with every second.

"a little bit, yeah."

"so... my vagina is the first one you've ever seen."

"yep. looks pretty similar to the drawing."

a few seconds of heavy silence went by.

"i mean... it's hard to learn when you're not... hands-on." you mentally slapped yourself for how cringey that sounded.

he froze, looking up into your eyes.

"what?"

"yeah, i mean... how are you supposed to learn what the clitoris is if you don't get to see what it does?"

"oh. i don't- i don't know."

"exactly."

"but you said no touching."

"i know what i said. maybe sometimes it's good to... break rules."

he slowly crawled closer to you and you spread your thighs wider. the cold air against your wetness could've given you chills.

"what... what do i do?" he asked, his face only a couple of inches away.

"see if you can find the words on your paper."

he looked over at it. "labia."

he lightly poked your wet lips — not the ones on your face.

"good."

"was that it?"

"mhm. good job."

"clitoris," he said without looking back at the paper.

"you remembered that one."

he looked around for a second before, without warning, placing the pad of his pointer finger onto your clit, making you take in a deep breath.

"that?"

"yep. right again."

"what do you... do with it?"

it was uncomfortable to explain, especially with a face in your vagina and a finger on your clit.

"uh... lots of things. really it's just different ways of touching it and touching it with different things. so, you could go in circles, back and forth, up and down. you can also use your tongue or some kind of toy. it's another thing that just depends on the person, everyone likes different things."

"what do you like?"

"circles, usually."

with a second of hesitation, he began slowly moving that finger in circles. you let out a breathy moan and closed your eyes, but he stopped.

"was that okay?"

you opened your eyes and looked down at him.

"that was good."

"so... what happens? is there like... an end goal here?"

"orgasm. it's how most women have to get there. sex, like penetration, usually isn't enough to get a lot of us there."

"really?"

"yeah. that's why it's important for our partners to do something other than just regular sex."

"so... do you usually prefer fingers or... a tongue?"

"well... me personally, i usually prefer a tongue. i feel like it's just more intimate."

"and what do you do with the tongue?"

"same thing you would with fingers. circles, back and forth, up and down-"

you were interrupted by a warm tongue on your clit, unable to hold in a gasp. he was going in circles like you said to do, and it was like he knew what to do immediately.

it felt good. you looked down at him to see him returning the gaze, a smirk creeping across his face.

"good, just like that, stiles."

you were doing your darndest to keep your hips still, ensuring he did everything right his first time. he placed his hands atop your thighs, making sure they stayed spread.

you reached up and pushed your hair out of your face, fisting a ball of your own hair. you were moaning, which he wasn't expecting to hear the first time he did this.

"you're doing good, stiles. that feels good."

he didn't answer, but his ego grew a few sizes at that. the closer you got to your orgasm, the more he had to hold you still. his arms were now wrapped around your thighs, his hands flat against your belly.

"fuck, okay, i can feel it coming," you said, looking down at him. "keep going, i'm gonna cum."

when you did look at him, it looked like he was experienced in this. his positioning, his hands, his pace, everything screamed 'i've done this a thousand times before'.

he liked this. being able to make you melt with just his tongue was making him hard, but he couldn't help it. your sweet voice moaning his name was like music to his ears, and the closer you got the louder you became.

your fingers tangled in his hair, trying not to pull too hard.

"don't stop, stiles. i'm almost there. i'll tell you when to stop."

he obeyed, not changing a single thing he was doing. if it hadn't have been so obvious, he might not have known you were cumming.

your back arched sharply, you took in a loud gasp, and your legs were trembling.

this was an incredible orgasm. you were perplexed by his skill, as ten minutes ago he had never even laid eyes on a vagina, much less eaten one out. but he was a quick learner, as you'd figured out from all the werewolf stuff.

"alright, stop, stop," you choked out. he immediately pulled away, using his shirt to wipe his mouth. you closed your legs and reveled in your high. your hand covered your eyes and you struggled to catch your breath.

"was that okay?" he asked innocently.

"are you kidding?" a moment later, you propped yourself up on your elbows. "how did you know how to do that?"

he shrugged. "i just did what you described."

"i've had more than one guy go down on me who was experienced and couldn't make me cum at all. that was, what, two minutes?"

"i guess i'm a natural," he joked.

you tilted your head to the side. "c'mere." you spread your legs again and his eyes widened, slowly following your directions. he held himself above you and you pulled him down to kiss you.

your hand trailed down his chest and landed on his belt, the clanking of the buckle making him pull away.

"what're you doing?" he whispered, looking at your half-closed eyes.

"well... i can see you're rock hard. i just figured, if you're losing your oral virginity, you might as well lose the regular one too."

he gulped hard, not moving.

"oh."

you stopped messing with his belt, furrowing your brow.

"unless you don't want to. you don't have to. don't feel like i'm pressuring you."

he shook his head.

"i don't. it's just... i didn't expect this. i wasn't planning on doing that when i came over, and i definitely didn't expect this. i didn't bring a condom or anything."

"i have some." you reached down and cupped his bulge in your hand, which made him falter a bit. "they might be a bit snug, but they'll fit."

he nodded, and you continued unbuckling his belt. when you got his pants shimmied down a bit and he was exposed to you, you noticed how red his cheeks were.

"what's wrong?"

"nothing. just... i don't want to disappoint you."

"stiles, it's your first time. i'm not expecting you to last past the first thrust." you can tell he took that as an insult. "i didn't mean it like that. no guy lasts past the first thrust during their first time. vaginas are different than hands or socks. i want you to feel comfortable with this. i promise i'm not judging you."

he nodded. "okay."

"if you don't want to have sex yet i could always just blow you instead. you might last longer that way."

"no, i want to do this."

"okay."

you reached over and grabbed a condom out of your nightstand drawer and opened it for him.

"want me to put it on for you?" you asked, to which you received a nod.

the feeling of your hand stroking down on him could've made him cum right then and there. but he wanted to wait until he was at least inside of you.

the feeling of his tip pressing into you was magical for both of you, and once he was fully nestled into you, he pressed a deep kiss onto your mouth.

he didn't move for a moment, wanting this to last as long as possible.

he was a nice size, not small by any means but not the biggest you'd had. he was perfect.

"you okay?" you whispered, pushing his hair off his forehead.

he nodded, the redness in his cheeks spreading to his chest. he slowly pulled out, and let out a loud, shaky moan with the next thrust. him laying his forehead against your chest let you know that he had cum, his arms trembling a bit.

when he looked at you again, he chuckled.

"what?" you asked.

"lasted past the first thrust." you both laughed at that, and you kissed him again. "next time it'll be better."

"next time?" he nodded. "when will that be?"

he thought for a second. "give me a couple of hours."

[ruewrote]

𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡.

PAIRING: stiles stilinski x fem!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: teenage dream by katy perry WORD COUNT: 1.2k

navigation | ask | stiles stilinski masterlist

it wasn't out of the blue for you and stiles to have a sleepover on fridays, actually it was a sort of unspoken rule between the two of you.

it first started when you said that you had never watched star wars before, which led to the both of you sitting on your couch with a big bowl of popcorn in between.

him explaining the little parts you'd get confused about or him just ranting about his favourite scenes. after that it was a back and forth of showing each other your favourite unseen movies.

when finishing said movie the following days you'd receive multiple memes from him about the specific films, it had become a recurring pattern that you'd come to love. it almost felt weird if he didn't.

tonight it was your turn to introduce him to the to all the boys i loved before trilogy since you'd been obsessed with the movies since they first came out.

he was on the fence about watching them since he wasn't a huge fan of romcoms, you somehow convinced him by saying "it's practice for watching them with your future girlfriend!" internally wincing at that.

every friday you felt more anxious before stiles showed, trying to fluff up your pillows and straighten out your blankets. wanting to make everything perfect.

you had a huge crush on stiles, how could you not after spending so much time together, learning all of his little quirks, his likes and his dislikes, the only thing you weren't sure about was the way he felt about you.

it was the one thing you wanted to know the most about him. did he think about you the same ways you thought about him? did he like the way cuddled when you'd watch these movies and shows with him?

you couldn't tell him though, what if he didn't feel the same way you did and it completely ruins the good friendship you have right now?

what would it take for you to finally tell him?

ding dong!

the doorbell ringing a couple times had you jogging down the stairs, opening the door with a warm smile to see hyper stiles.

"i'm so ready to get my movie night on! i had a math test today and let me tell you it sucked," he whines as he dramatically wraps his arms around your waist as he fake cries into your shoulder.

"well if it helps i have enough microwaveable popcorn to keep us going through the apocalypse soo you coming upstairs or what?"

with that said he zips past you up your stairs, falling up them in the process, making you giggle at his eagerness as you follow close behind him.

watching stiles practically swan dive onto your bed and aggressively sniff your pillow has you side eyeing him, "why is your bed so much comfier and smells so much nicer than mine? it's so not fair."

"it's a little thing called fabric softener and if you continuously jump into your bed the way you do mine, then i guess you've got your answer you dufus," you laugh at him burrowing himself deep under your duvet.

"plus i've slept in your bed it's plenty comfy, the key is lots of pillows and fluffy blankets." he hums as you settle yourself beside him before pressing play on the movie.

it was like ten minutes into the film when you could feel him slightly shuffle closer to you, keeping your eyes on the screen pretending it didn't happen. just patiently waiting until he felt comfortable enough to say something.

"can...can we cuddle?" you wordlessly lifted your arm, letting him slip himself under, his head on your chest, the rest of his body lightly pressed to your side.

it was like second nature to you two, whether either one of you had a bad week you'd take turns holding each other. you helped install healthy mannerisms that proved that it was okay for a man to be held because they deserve it too and that it was okay for guys to cry no matter who they're with.

so yes , when he had a rough day he'd often walk up to you and bury his face into your neck, his arms firmly wrapped around you as you cupped the back of his head and rubbed soft circles on his back just letting him know that you were there for him.

with everything he had gone through he deserved all the comfort he could get and if the source was you then so be it.

you would be lying if you said that your heart didn't speed up at the closeness and how his touch on your skin left goosebumps.

trying to be as casual as possible, you raise the hand that was currently wrapped around his shoulders to gently stroke his hair, feeling him physically melt into you calmed your nerves.

feeling your eyelids slowly droop, your hand movements become slower so your palm now laid on the back of his neck, fighting sleep felt so difficult when he was beside you. his presence was so peaceful, comforting even without him saying anything.

the early start of your day hitting even harder now. He won't mind if you rested your eyes for a little bit, right?

stiles noticed the similarities between the two characters to the both of you, but there's no way that you deliberately put this on as a sign? was he reading too deep into it?

when he went to question you about it, lifting his head he was met with you sleeping peacefully. his gaze softened at the sight, gently tucking the piece of hair that fell in front of your face.

"you are so goddamn beautiful and don't even know it, even when you sleep? like can you save some beauty for the rest of us?" he chuckles at his own joke.

"i don't know how long i can keep pretending that i'm not totally in love with you...there really isn't anything that i wouldn't do for you." he whispers and he studies your features.

"it's honestly crazy how i feel your absence in everything that i do when i'm alone, in every place i go without you." he sighs, going to go back to watching the tv.

"you really mean all of that?" you whisper, making him jump back.

"uh- i-i do, but i thought you were asleep?"

"no i was just resting my eyes, but i'm sorta glad that you thought i was for you to finally confess your feelings for me." you smirk at him.

his mouth opens and closes, utterly bewildered at what you just said, "what do you mean finally?"

"You realise that i like you too, right? that i have for the longest time?" stiles eyes now wide, looking even more lost than before.

"you like me? like like me like me?"

sitting up, grasping the back of his neck, "what are you..." pulling him closer, your lips brushing against his. it takes him a second to register the kiss before melting into it. leaning closer to deepen the kiss. his hands brushing over your hips as he laid you down, now hovering over you. your hand running through his hair, tugging at the roots.

you're both now smiling as you share a few more pecks before pulling away. "so you do like me!" he grins, "oh my god. dude yes!"

"ya know if you're gonna be my girlfriend, you're gonna have to calling me dude."

"would you prefer shnookums?"

"that's it!" he pulled away just enough to tickle you.

from that night forth you and stiles had become inseparable, practically connected at the hip. but you wouldn't want it any other way.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[chloe-skywalker]

They Were There - Peter Hale

Peter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 635

Summary: Derek and Cora know about Y/n and Peter because they were there when he proposed. Everyone else in the pack? Surprise.

Masterlist

Teen Wolf Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Welcome to the family.” Derek smiled, hugging Y/n as she and Peter entered the loft having just got back from their honeymoon. Y/n and Derek had been friends since junior high but now she was his sister in law and Derek wasn’t disappointed. “Cora sends her congrats and welcome but she had to leave.”

“Its okay. I already talked to her.” Y/n smiled, waving it off, her and Cora had already talked a few days before. “Its great to finally be apart of the family.” Y/n groaned back at Peter along with Derek.

“Sorry I didn’t want to rush things.” Peter narrowed his eyes at the two.

“You have been in love with her since you were 14. I think you took your damn time.” Derek raised his brows looking at his uncle with an exaggerated look. Even if he was somewhat commatoused for a few years, his uncle still took his damn time.

“I’m just glad you did it to begin with.” Y/n let out a laugh, it was a long time coming.

“It's been a longtime coming.” Peter pulled Y/n, his wife, into his side and kissed her. He could be soft with her.

“There's a pack meeting tonight here at the loft.” Derek told them after their little moment, Y/n is good for his uncle. Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t kill him again to protect her, but she did make him a better person.

“I’ll be there.” Y/n told him.

“Will you?” Derek asked his uncle knowing how much he did not care for the pack.

“Since my wife will be there, yes. I gotta know what I’ll have to protect you from when their plans go wrong.” Peter stated sarcastically. Y/n and Derek just looked at eachother and rolled their eyes.

^     ^     ^

“Your back!” Scott said with a smile rushing over to hug Y/n once the pack entered the loft and saw she was there. They had all missed her.

“You’ve been gone so long.” Allsion said having missed her older friend. Y/n was older than the group of teens, she was the older sister figure of the pack.

“Where’d you go?” Stiles asked.

“Is that a ring on your finger?” Lydia points out having caught the shine of it catching the light.

“You got married?” Allison questioned in shock, having looked down to Y/n’s hand like everyone else after hearing Lydia.

“Yes.” Y/n nodded.

“Without us?” Scott gave her his sad puppy dog eyes.

“We plan on having a reception with all of you sometime in the near future.” Y/n smiled at them and she saw her words lesson their sadness.

“We? Who’s the dude?” Stiles raised a brow.

“Peter.”

“Peter as in Peter Hale?!” Scott’s eyes bulged out of his head. 

“As in Derek’s uncle?” Allison was less shocked but more surprised.

“Yes, she's a Hale now.” Derek smirked proudly.

“I am.” She smiled.

“Peter Hale?” Stiles squinted his eyes, still not believing it.

“Is there something wrong with me?” Peter raised his eyebrows pretending to be innocent. He spoke up for the first time since the pack arrived from his spot on the couch.

“You're a psychopath for starters.” Stiles stated addressing the oldest Hale.

“He’s different with her. I’ll defend him on that. He has always been different when it comes to Y/n.” Derek spoke up.

Y/n walked over to Peter, sitting on the arm of the couch.

“That's because she’s different. She’s mine.” Peter growled the last part possessively.

“And you're mine.” Y/n smiled at him leaning over to kiss him.

“Oh he’s been yours since he laid eyes on you.” Derek teased and he got satisfaction when his uncle flashed his eyes at him but couldn’t deny his nephew's statement.

[babyflorencee]

My flannel

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

I awoke to an involuntary shiver coursing through my body. Instinctively, I stretched my arm out in search of my boyfriend, Stiles, but he wasn't there. Emitting a disheartened groan, I shifted my focus towards Stiles' side of the bed, only to discover the window agape, permitting the morning sun to cascade within, its brilliance so intense it could potentially blind those who dared to gaze in its direction. Flipping on my back, I rubbed away the remnants of sleep from my eyes before lifting the sheets away from my nearly exposed form. The moment that the fabric was off my body, the wintry breeze made its presence known, caressing my bare arms and legs. I got out of bed, stumbling over towards the window, almost falling down multiple times, but eventually managing to close and lock it.

I looked around the room, seeing my clothes scattered about. Sighing, I made my way to the open closet, rummaging through Stiles' collection of flannels and jackets until I found the one I wanted to wear. I pulled a multi-colored flannel out of his closet, putting it over my shoulders, and buttoning up all the buttons before descending out of his room, making my way down the stairs and into his kitchen.

Immediately upon entering the room, I saw Stiles sitting at the island table, scrolling through his phone. Sneaking up behind him, I wrapped my arms loosely around his neck, before placing multiple kisses from his jaw to his cheek "Morning," he mumbled, leaning back into my arms.

"Hey Sti," I murmured into his neck.

After a few minutes of staying in that position, I reluctantly pulled away, only to perch myself upon his lap moments later. Settling into a crisscrossed posture, I leaned back into his chest. "Am I just a chair to you?" He teased, a laugh accompanying his joke.

"Yes, and my own personal footrest," I retorted, offering a bratty smile before quickly turning away.

"Ouch, I feel so used." He faux- pouted, before dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if it was wounded.

Glancing back at him, I noticed his gaze fixed upon me. However, he wasn't looking at my face; he was looking at what I was wearing. He bit his lip before speaking up. "Is this mine?" He lightly pinched a portion of the fabric, tugging it lightly.

"No, it's mine," I asserted, looking down at my hands.

"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure that belongs to me," he said, trying to bite back a laugh.

My eyes widened at the thought of being caught, as my protectiveness over the flannel intensified. "My shirt," I declared, arms crossed defensively as I turned my head to the side, a pout on my face, as I hoped that Stiles wouldn't make me give his flannel back.

Stiles lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, all while looking me dead in the eyes. "What does that say?" He asked, pointing to his name that was written on the the tag.

"Fine, it's yours," I said, sighing in defeat.

"I like how it looks on you," he pressed a light kiss to my temple, quietly laughing at the way my eyes lit up.

"Does that mean I can keep it?" I asked, offering the widest smile I could muster.

"Absolutely not. But you can wear it whenever you want." He said, his hands settling on my thighs, as he rubbed his hands up and down.

"I'll take it!" I said, grabbing his coffee and drinking out of it before making a face of disgust.

"Ew, what did you put in this?" I questioned, frowning as he laughed at me.

"I didn't put anything in it, it's just coffee," he explained, pointing to the dark liquid in the cup.

"This is disgusting," I said, pouting even more as his laughter persisted.

[lfzyxf]

Issac lahey and his s/o giving each other affection, like s/o is giving him kisses all over his face when Scott walks in fluff please!

Just a short one this time! I hope you like it.

Isaac Lahey x gn!reader Word count: 385 Masterlist

It’s difficult to get some privacy when you’re constantly surrounded by your friends. You love your friends of course, but sometimes you just need some time alone with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who is currently struggling to keep his hands off of you. “Isaac-” you try just for him to shush you with a quick kiss to your lips making you laugh. One of his hands is resting on your waist, the other is gently playing with your hair. “Isaac, they’ll be here soon.”

He sighs at your words, “can a man not get some time alone with the love of his life?” You laugh again, shaking your head softly. “Not when our entire group of friends will be arriving any moment, no.” He kisses the top of your head sweetly “I’ll kick them out.” He states, nodding his head to affirm what he just said. “You’ll kick them out? You are going to kick Scott out of his own house?” You ask looking at him incredulously. He simply nods again in response, deciding that he has won the argument as he starts littering kisses all over your face. You can’t help but laugh softly at his actions, the soft feel of his lips against your skin slightly ticklish.

“Isaac-” once more you’re interrupted, this time not just by him kissing you once more, but this time by Scott walking inside. It only takes a moment before he’s looking at the two of you, his eyes moving from yours to Isaacs. The two of you stand there frozen, mimicking Scott as your eyes move from each other’s to his. “We-”, “I was just-” the two of you speak at the same time, spewing out excuses while Scott stands there, looking at you two. After a while of listening to you guys’ ridiculous excuses, he simply shakes his head and chuckles.

“You’ve got around five minutes before the rest of the group arrives- I’m just going to…wait outside.” He quickly walks back out the door, you and Isaac wait for a moment, waiting for the sound of the lock falling back in its place. And when you do, Isaac wastes no time to start his attack on you all over again. Only this time the both of you are laughing at the silliness of the moment.

[zaceouiswriting]

The Football Stud

Character: Gabe x male reader, (mentioned) Scott McCall

Universe: Teen wolf

Warnings: Smut: degradation, humiliation, choking

Author's Note: I finally finished one of my smaller works, and for some reason, it had to be smut—though that's a problem for another time. Since I haven't written smut in a while, I'd love to hear from you all if it's okay and if you liked it as much as I hope you would.

You were bent over the counter by the sinks in one of the school's bathrooms, your head pressed against the surface by strong, immobile hands. At the same time, hard thrusts from behind slammed you in a harsh rhythm against the same counter. You would surely be bruised soon enough, but you didn't care.

"Fuck," a deep voice yells from behind you. "Why are you still so damn tight?" he asks, a smug tone in his already arrogant voice.

That was a good question. He's been forcing himself on you for months now, ever since he caught you staring in the locker room after gym class one day. You couldn't take your eyes off his perfectly muscular body or the big, thick, limp penis he unashamedly showed off to everyone before you got in the shower.

Back then, you never thought he would fuck you, or any guy, for that matter. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it in some ways; feeling his hands all over your body, his sharp, brutal eyes constantly staring at you, even in class, only for him to tap your desk in the middle of class as he passes by, signaling you to follow him so he can fuck you wherever he wanted.

"You fucking faggots are all the same!" he continues, his humiliating, degrading words driving you to the brink of lust-fueled madness. "You stare at me and drool over my body like I'm just a piece of meat," his words become a little slurred, "but I'm not like you, nothing more than a hole that needs to be filled by a real man!"

You couldn't deny his words. After all, you were desperately attracted to him. You were in the same class your entire school career, watching him grow from this scrawny, whiny little boy to this handsome, muscular flirt. Rumor has it that he's a real stud who apparently fucked his way through the cheerleading squad and most of the other girls in school, something you never could have imagined.

Even though he is brutal to you, you feel honored to be the one this man completely destroys. And even though you are the same age as him, you don't feel like you deserve to be called a "man" compared to him.

While you were lost in thought, the other suddenly grabbed the back of your head and pulled it upwards so that you had to look at him through the mirror while your upper body was still pressed to the counter surface by his big, strong other hand.

"Look at yourself!" he commanded, his face grim, as if he were doing something disgusting, but his rhythmic thrusts did not let up or slow down in any way. His rock-hard cock pulsed violently against your inner walls. "What do you see?"

When you finally did as he commanded, you saw your eyes red with tears, your mouth wide open, and your head was in complete euphoria. The sheer size of his cock alone gave you more than just pleasure, although it still hurt a little, but not as bad as the first time when he almost ripped you to pieces when he fucked you dry. You couldn't walk for nearly a week after that.

If you were honest with yourself, you felt and looked pathetic for letting yourself be taken advantage of by this stud who will surely play college football and maybe even go pro. Yet all you cared about was being his toy, even though you wanted more. You were satisfied that you were at least something to him, even if it was just his sperm vault that was regularly filled with his hot cum. But as a side effect, he was also fucking your brains out at the same time, which made you wonder who was really taking advantage of whom.

A sharp pain, worse than the cock trying to stretch your inner walls, snaps you out of your thoughts. As your eyes focus, you see a large red mark on your face. It's not the first time he's hit you, but you've been a good boy, just like he wants, so this time, it hurt you more than just physically.

"Don't look at me like an innocent slut!" His harsh words make you even sadder. Suddenly, he holds you tight, grabs your hair roughly, and pulls you towards him. "You know I hate it when you don't look and act like my little whore, so what's wrong?"

With tears in your eyes, you didn't want to, but you spoke anyway. "Why did you hit me?"

With a look of contempt you've never seen before in his mysterious dark orbs, he looks down at you like you're an idiot. He rolls his eyes in annoyance; it's almost playful, only to push you back to the surface harshly, immediately picking up his rhythm but thrusting into you harder than before. He was so brutal that you cried out involuntarily, only to see him grinning like a psychopath in the mirror; then you knew it was all intentional.

“That’s right, bitch, scream my name,” he yells euphorically, visibly happy about the pain he is inflicting on you.

Contrary to what he thought you would do, you gathered all your strength and covered your mouth with your hands, visibly angering him. Even though you knew he would punish you for it, you thought it was fair since he didn't answer your question. But when you saw him gritting his teeth, you almost broke down and did it anyway because you wanted nothing more than to be his good boy. After all, he always treated you nicely when you were good to him, but you had to make something clear right then.

He, on the other hand, was already at the end of his tether, slamming his hands onto your bare waist and holding it in a grip that would undoubtedly leave you with more bruises. But you didn't even care, too scared because you already knew what was coming next.

Slowly he pulls his cock out of your abused hole, all the way to the tip, and with a devilish grin, maintaining eye contact, his hips suddenly snap forward. The force pushes you to the mirror while the pain causes your arms to fall like cooked noodles at your sides. You didn't even notice how you finally let out a primitive scream, as your brain was already mostly incapacitated.

“Gabe!” You finally shouted so loudly that everyone in the surrounding classrooms could hear it, even if you didn't know it yet.

“Louder!” Gabe orders you in an icy tone, perfectly concealing his prior pure excitement.

And as ordered, you scream his name so loudly that your voice breaks. Through a veil of tears, you see Gabe's grin in the mirror; it's eerie, almost dark, like the smirk of a murderer.

But suddenly, Gabe leaned forward; his thrusts became a little sloppier. His hot breath tickled your neck, but despite the way he treated you, you were not afraid; on the contrary. If he ordered it, you would worship the ground he walks on. Carefully, he took your chin between his fingers and forced you to make eye contact with him again.

"Now tell me," his deep voice echoed in your soul, sending not only shivers through your entire body but your brain exploding in pure ecstasy, "who owns this hole?" He moved his cock slowly in and out, making it clear that he meant your loose asshole.

Feeling his cock suddenly throb viciously, you moaned his name. As you watched his face become even more smug and confident, you realized what a stud he had become, knowing full well that he was superior to everyone else. Your already rapidly beating heart nearly jumped out of your throat.

"And who owns you, slut?" He pronounced the degrading name prominently and slapped your left butt cheek so hard that you knew you would have another bruise there in the morning.

Immediately after the slap, he stopped his thrusts to hear your reaction, knowing without a doubt that your response would not be the result of pure lust controlling you.

Out of breath, it took a while, but when you saw Gabe's waiting look, you swallowed hard. 

"You, Gabe," you finally managed to choke out, your words almost drowned out by your heavy breathing.

To you, your whispered words felt like a promise, an invisible contract that you will probably never be able to escape. Yet you didn't mind.

"Who?" Gabe asks again, his grin becoming sinister, his hand tightening around your chin while his other hand quickly begins to clamp around your throat.

"You, Gabe!" you squeaked with all the strength you had left. Your voice echoed through the bathroom, but you couldn't stop; you repeated his name like a mantra.

Even Gabe seemed surprised when you started to cry. It wasn't because of the pain, at least not physically. Although you never minded being just a hole for him, something inside you broke in that moment; you suddenly realized that there would never be anything more, no matter how much you wanted it to be.

Even with all your heartache, a moan suddenly erupted from you. Your mind became foggy almost instantly as something struck deep inside you.

Through the mirror, you saw Gabe standing upright again, his letterman jacket hanging halfheartedly over his shoulders, his perfectly fluffy, styled hair in disarray, but most striking were his facial features, stern but compassionate. Despite his look, he first gently ran his rough fingertips—due to all the training he does—over your soft back until he forced you where he always said you belonged: bent over and wide open for him. Like a good, obedient slut.

“You’re so tight for me,” he murmurs, his voice slightly trembling.

Just from his voice, you knew he was close to coming, even though he hadn't fucked you in almost a minute. Suddenly his thrusts became faster, distracting your mind from your emotional turmoil as he endlessly pushed his cock against your prostate to the point you couldn't control yourself anymore. Your hands twitched at your sides, clenching them as if you were searching for something to grab onto; you gasped like a bitch in heat until your limbs fell back onto the counter, your head bouncing off it a second later.

"Fuck, I'm close... I'm clo- Fuck!" Gabe's deep voice echoed off the bathroom walls as his body stiffened.

You felt copious amounts of cum filling your insides to the brim as his sweaty hands pressed deeper into your flesh.

But as you feel this wonderful, warm, thick sensation, your body gives in to exhaustion and knocks you out on the spot.

When you awoke from your short nap, you saw a shadow standing over you. You looked around anxiously and found yourself on the floor, lying on his letterman jacket. When you felt the soft fabric under your overstimulated cock, you came a third time in less than twenty minutes.

As you turned your head ever so slightly, you saw something you never thought possible. There stood Gabe, wiping your ass. He looked disgustingly at his hand as he wiped his cum off and out of your hole. However, when he caught your eye, his annoyance turned to anger.

"Fucking faggot," he mutters, clearly dissatisfied. "Can't even take it up the ass without passing out, pathetic whore."

A feeling of shame began to grow within you. It only worsened when he stood up, washed his hands, and simply walked towards the door. You could have sworn you heard your heart breaking at that moment.

“Your jacket.” Your voice was just a whisper, but Gabe halted anyway, his hand already on the doorknob.

"Don't think anything of it," he presses through clenched teeth. "I don't want your worthless sperm on it." He pulled a disgusted face again and even went so far as to spit right at your feet. "I would never want anything back from such an easy slut like you."

You lowered your head and nodded, understanding that he didn't want anything you touched. But despite everything, he didn't leave the room. Gabe sighed heavily. You saw out of the corner of your eye how he wiped his face, looking somewhat displeased and defeated simultaneously.

"Tomorrow morning, same time, same place," he mutters dejectedly. Your head snaps up, unable to believe you heard him correctly. You're amazed at the warm face he showed you for the first time. But he must've realized his mistake as his face twisted to anger again. "You're just a better slut than most girls, but if you pass out again, I'll hand you down to the rest of the football team. Got it?"

You nodded happily, unable to hide your euphoria, which caused Gabe to chuckle darkly, but you didn't care. For the first time, he actually saw you as more than just a hole, upgrading you to one of his sluts, which was better than being just a piece of meat, and maybe there's hope for much more in the future.

Lost in your dreams, you didn't notice Gabe finally leaving the bathroom. You lay there for another minute before finally gathering your clothes strewn throughout the room and putting them back on, even though they were gross.

The second you stepped out of the bathroom, Scott was outside the door asking if everything was okay.

You knew he meant well, but it pissed you off. He's always on your case, wanting you to give up on Gabe, but at the end of the year, you were both going to different colleges anyway, so you wanted to use this time to at least get fucked properly. With a scowl on your hardened face, you told him you were great, pushed past him, and went to find your friends, ignoring all of Scott's attempts to pry deeper into your business.

[Masterlist]

[magical-reid]

A Little Bit of Normal

Paring: Stiles Stilinski x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.2 K

Summary: In the midst of Beacon Hills' chaos, you find solace in Stiles Stilinski's playful distractions and heartfelt words, gradually realizing that your friendship is evolving into something deeper. As he confesses his feelings for you, you both share a tender moment that marks the beginning of something real and meaningful.

It was another quiet afternoon at the library. The hum of pages turning and the faint chatter of a few students were the only sounds filling the room. You sat at your usual spot by the window, attempting to study for your next exam, but your mind kept wandering. The books in front of you blurred into a mess of letters and formulas.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about your grades—it was just hard to concentrate with everything going on in Beacon Hills. Between supernatural chaos, werewolves, and endless mysteries, school was the last thing on your mind. But you couldn’t just ignore it, not when your GPA was on the line.

“Hey,” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You glanced up to find Stiles Stilinski standing at the table, his trademark goofy grin plastered across his face.

“Hey, Stiles,” you said, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. He had that effect on you, always able to make even the most stressful days feel lighter.

“Shouldn’t you be studying?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the table.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m trying. It’s just... hard to focus, you know?”

Stiles gave you a sympathetic look, his expression softening. “Yeah, I get it. Believe me, I do. But I have a solution.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? Do you now?”

He flashed his signature mischievous grin. “Of course. It’s simple, really. All you need is a little Stiles distraction.”

You laughed. “A distraction? I’m supposed to focus on my studies, not get sidetracked by your endless supply of weirdness.”

Stiles smirked, sliding into the chair across from you. “First of all, you’re welcome. Second of all, weirdness is an understatement. And third, who says you can’t do both? You study, I distract. We’ll call it a study session.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m adorable,” he corrected, leaning forward with a playful gleam in his eyes. “And I’m about to prove it.”

You couldn’t help but smile as he launched into one of his usual rambling monologues, jumping from one bizarre idea to another. He told you all about a “brilliant” theory he had about why every fast food chain’s fries tasted exactly the same and how he was convinced there was a conspiracy behind it. His enthusiasm was contagious, and before long, you found yourself laughing at his absurd theories and forgetting about the stress of school.

When he saw you laughing, Stiles seemed to glow with a certain pride, as if he had just accomplished the greatest feat. His smile softened as his eyes met yours, and for a moment, you felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you in that little corner of the library.

“So, I have to ask,” Stiles said, his voice suddenly quieter, more serious. “Why do you always look so stressed, (Y/N)? I mean, I know Beacon Hills is... a lot, but you seem like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders sometimes.”

You hesitated. The weight of his question hit you harder than you expected. You’d gotten used to the chaos, to the constant danger, but there was always that undercurrent of worry that never seemed to leave you. You pushed it away as best as you could, but it wasn’t always easy.

“I guess... I don’t really know how to stop worrying,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “There’s just so much going on. I have to keep everything together, and sometimes, it feels like I’m barely holding it all in.”

Stiles’ expression softened even more. He leaned in closer, his voice low and gentle. “You don’t have to hold it all in. Not with me. You know that, right?”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the intensity in his eyes. Stiles was always the jokester, the one who made everyone laugh and took everything in stride, but in this moment, he was serious—genuine.

“I know,” you said quietly. “It’s just... I don’t want to burden anyone with my problems. Especially you.”

He reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His fingers lingered for a moment, the touch warm and reassuring.

“You’re not a burden, (Y/N),” he said softly, his voice thick with sincerity. “And if you ever feel like you are, I’ll be the first one to remind you that you’re not. We’re friends, right?”

You nodded, your throat suddenly tight. You felt something stir in your chest, a warmth spreading through you as Stiles’ gaze never wavered.

“More than friends, though,” you murmured, not even realizing you’d said the words until they were out in the open. You felt your cheeks flush, but when you looked up at him, you saw the surprise in his eyes.

“You mean...?” he trailed off, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves. “Yeah. More than friends.”

There was a long beat of silence between you, a breathless pause where everything seemed to hang in the balance. You watched as Stiles’ expression shifted, the playful grin replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. He reached out and gently took your hand in his, his thumb grazing over your skin in a way that sent a flutter of nerves through you.

“I’ve been wanting to say something for a while now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t want to mess things up. But... I really like you, (Y/N). More than I should, probably. And I’ve been kind of terrified to tell you that, because... well, it’s you. You’re amazing. And I’m just... well, me.”

You felt your heart race as his words sank in, your chest tightening with emotion. You had no idea that Stiles felt the same way, and hearing it out loud made everything seem more real, more intense.

“You’re not just you,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “You’re Stiles. And that’s more than enough.”

He smiled then, the same goofy grin that you loved, but this time it was softer, more genuine. Slowly, almost like he was afraid you’d disappear if he moved too fast, he leaned in and kissed you. It was brief, but the moment his lips touched yours, a wave of relief washed over you. Like everything was falling into place, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

When he pulled back, his hand still holding yours, his eyes were full of that familiar mischief, but there was something deeper there, too—something raw.

“See?” he said, teasing once more. “Told you I was the best distraction.”

You laughed, your heart still racing. “I think you might be right about that.”

Stiles grinned, leaning back in his chair, but this time, he didn’t let go of your hand. It felt different now, more intimate, and you both knew that this was the beginning of something more than just a friendship.

In the middle of all the chaos, all the supernatural madness, you had found something simple, something real. And for once, it felt like everything was going to be okay.

[samdeancass]

The Side Nobody Ever Sees

Pairing: Theo x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Theo, Y/N

Description: There is a side to Theo that nobody ever sees, apart from Y/N

Most people perceive Theo as a bad guy who is always up to no good. He has only a few friends and the ones he does have often lead him astray. He puts up a persona that keeps them at arm's length. However, with you, Theo is an entirely different person. His tough persona melts away, and he relaxes in your presence. Theo knows he doesn't have to hide who he truly is with you, and he loves you for that. You accept who he is, and that's all he could ever ask for. You see the side of him that nobody else ever gets to see, and that means so much to you; he trusts you enough to let his guard down.

You heard his car pulling up into the driveway, and immediately, butterflies erupted in your stomach. You stopped what you were doing and rushed to the front door, a big smile on your face and your arms open wide for him to fall into. The door swung open and slammed shut, Theo's shoulders sagging as he dropped his bag to the floor. He smiled when he looked up and saw your open arms, immediately walking forward and filling the empty space between them.

"Hey, baby. Long day?" He nodded into your neck, pressing soft kisses into the sensitive flesh. "How can I make you feel better?" Theo lifted his head so his eyes met yours. "Absolutely nothing, princess. You're enough to brighten my day." A slight blush crept onto your face as you kissed his cheek. He took your hand in his and led you over to the sofa. "All I feel like doing is curling up on the sofa with my girl and watching trashy movies. How does that sound?" You sat down and curled up in his arms, your chin resting on his chest. "That sounds perfect."

Theo flipped through the different movies on Netflix until he found one you both wanted to watch. He settled back into the sofa, bringing you into his chest and resting his chin on your head. Your hands found their way to his shoulders and pulled him closer to you, a feeling of safety and love blanketing the both of you. Soon enough, as you always do, you fell asleep. This is evident by the soft snores coming from your nose. Theo chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "This, you, is all I could ever want. You bring out the best in me, Y/N. I can't wait to make you my wife." Theo fell asleep a few minutes late, the sounds of both of your breathing merging into one.

Teen Wolf Tags:

@akshi8278 @bxoken-heartss @hellomyweirdos @redcoatgirl

[perseephoneee]

Can you do a isaac lahey imagine where the reader us on her period and freaks out and doesn't know what to do so lydia tells him what to do

hehe yes omg

period talk (isaac lahey x f!reader)

warnings: fluff, period talk, dumb boy

a/n: try the drink mentioned if you want to imagine running through hogwarts on a winter day.

↳ masterlist ↳  want to be shipped with a fic character?

Isaac wouldn't admit it, but he loved the cold weather. He liked when the winter season would hit, and holidays were a topic of conversation. Holidays were the only time his Dad treated him like he was actually proud of him, and despite that fucked up relationship, Isaac couldn't help but romanticize the season. It's why, when Beacon Hills hit a new low for the weather, he was excited to see you at school. Perhaps he could even convince you to skip class and get hot coco with him.

Unfortunately for him, your period had started therefore your mood was sour. The cold just added to your discomfort, and you basically hissed at him when he came by your locker.

"Woah, what did I do?" Isaac recoiled, a nervous laugh on his lips. You took a deep breath before turning and facing him.

"Nothing, you did nothing," you sighed. "I'm just...not doing great."

"Whats wrong?" Isaac inquired, brows furrowed and concern evident on his face. You loved your cute werewolf boyfriend, and while he was very helpful, he probably couldn't do much for you right now.

"I'm on my period," you admitted with a twinge of shame. Talking about these things was never fun, even to someone you trusted. A blush coated Isaac's cheeks as he processed what you said.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Should I, uh, do something?" Isaac stammered, hands in his pockets.

"Just be you, I'm a big girl and can handle myself," you chuckled, lightly slapping his arm as you closed your locker and started in the direction of class. Isaac stood in the hallway a moment longer, before deducing a game plan and targeting the area of the school he knew the familiar red head would be. She was typing on her phone when he ran up beside her, backpack slung lazily over his shoulder.

"I need your help," Isaac said hurridly, earning a squeak of surprise form Lydia. She set two angry eyes at him, and he resisted the urge to run away. Women did not like him much today.

"Stop sneaking up on me like that," Lydia rolled her eyes, putting her phone in her purse. "What is it?"

"Y/N is on her period, and I want to help, but I don't know what to do, and you're a girl and you're smart so I thought you'd have some ideas?" Isaac rushed, lips pressed in a thin line as Lydia cocked a brow at him.

"Why do you have to make everything so dramatic?" Lydia huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Isaac sent her a look though that showed that he wasn't going to figure anything out, anytime soon. "Look, unless she asks for products, don't bother trying to buy her them-- you'll likely get the wrong ones anyway. Get her her favorite warm drink, a heating pad, blanket, maybe an activity or something calming."

"Drink, heating pad, blanket, activity, got it," Isaac listed out everything, brows scrunched together in concentration. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, during this time, she's always right. Even if you think she isn't, just agree that you're wrong and she's right. Otherwise, she'll claw your eyes out," Lydia crossed her arms, daring Isaac to challenge her. He stayed quiet though, and she loosened up her stance. "I have to go, have fun, don't get killed."

Isaac was never that great at social cues, but he really liked you, and that was enough. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling taking pit in his stomach, he skipped out on school to go get the necessary things Lydia listed. Starting off with a butterbeer chai, a concoction you created (two pumps caramel, two pumps toffee, caramel drizzle, and chai); going to CVS for a heating pad and a blanket; then finally the bookstore down the street where he found a book you wanted (after searching through his phone for fifteen minutes trying to find the text where you mentioned wanting a new release). By the time he had finished his grand adventure, school was out and he would be able to surprise you.

You were having a crappy day with a side of more absolute garbage, so you were very pleasantly surprised when your golden hair boyfriend comes bounding up the street as you exit the school building.

"Woah, where's the fire?" you chuckle. You finally take notice of the bags he's carrying, as well as the drink.

"These are for you," Isaac stutters, passing you the drink. You peer in the bag and can't hide the grin on your face as you take in the plethora of supplies he got. "I know you weren't doing well, and I felt bad, so I got some stuff."

"Isaac, you are the sweetest puppy of a boyfriend a girl could ask for," you smile, wanting nothing more than to pick him up and twirl him around (he is too tall, you are too small). "How did you know what to get?"

"I asked Lydia," he mumbles, staring at his feet. You fight back a chuckle.

"Probably the smartest thing you could've done."

"That was my thought process as well," he chimes, scratching the back of his neck and shooting you a grin. You lean up, kissing him on the corner of his mouth and looping his arm through yours.

"C'mon, lets go hide from the cold together and I'll bitch to you about life," you chime, the cold dusting yours and Isaac's cheeks in shades of pink.

"Sounds perfect, just like you," Isaac smiles, kissing the top of your head as you walk off back home.

[ruewrote]

𝑢𝑛𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟.

PAIRING: stiles stilinski x gn!reader WARNINGS: none? GENRE: angst, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: latch by disclosure & sam smith WORD COUNT: 490 NOTE: he deserves all the love in the world, plus i just wanna give him a hug

navigation | ask | stiles stilinski masterlist

Your week was long, everytime you looked at the clock it felt that the minutes grew even longer or it felt like you had no time at all, there was no inbetween.

The constant loud chatter of your classmates gives you headaches, which turn into migraines as the days progress, recently you had been keeping to yourself. Your words had been coming out alot snappier than you intended so you decided to stay quiet. Well turns out you learn alot about others when you don't speak all that much for a prolonged amount of time.

That sadly meant picking up on the little snide comments that people were making about stiles, at first it upset you. Of course it would, Why wouldn’t it? But then it just angered you right down to your core, he was the sweetest person you knew, always making sure the people around him were okay, cheering people up when they were clearly down. God, he even entertained Lydia's idiocy.

Yeah he was a klutz and he slipped up sometimes, but he didn’t deserve that. No one did, but especially not him. For what? Just being himself?

He was sick today, it was weird with him not sitting at the desk in front of you, it was almost eerie even with the talk from your fellow classmates, you missed him. The bell rang, you winced. End of school, end of this god forsaken week. looking around the classroom, students were out of their seats, some already out of the room. That included scott. Ugh. of course. 

packing up your stuff before making a beeline for stiles house, your heart heavy as you shut your car door, thinking over everything you had overheard. slowly making your way up to the stilinski residence. Stopping in front of the door, taking a deep breath before knocking.

You waited, listening for footsteps which soon came, rather quickly actually, an ouch soon followed, the door opened. there he was, with a lopsided goofy smile, he didn’t look sick? Mental health day? “Oh my god, hey! Dude I was literally just about to text you!” 

The way he was staring down at you with those stupid doe eyes, you couldn’t take it anymore. you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into a surprised hug. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms tightly around your waist, not questioning anything.

 To anyone on the outside this probably looked super weird, two people hugging in the doorway of their house, but times like these weren’t uncommon between the two of you.

“I love you, you know?” you murmur into his shoulder, he was somehow able to pull you closer to him, squeezing you tighter. “I love you too.” 

In that moment you didn’t think about the kids at school or any other silly worries that you had, not when you knew that stiles had you.

The same way that you had him.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[chloe-skywalker]

Friendly Or Flirting? - Scott Mccall

Scott x Fem!reader (Crush/ not together yet)

Warnings: none (Insecure feelings?)

Word count: 548

Summary: Scott doesn’t like the Alpha twins hitting on Y/n.

Masterlist

Teen Wolf Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“What’s going on?” Scott asks as he comes to a stop next to Stile and Isaac in the school hallway.

“Nothing.” Stiles shakes his head quickly not believing Scott needed to know, but Isaac ruined Stiles' plan.

“Just watching Y/n get hit on by the twins.” Isaac smirks, but then gets hit upside the head by Stiles.

“Dude.” Stiles looked at him with a glare.

“What?” Scott looks at them with shock and panic.

“Over there.” Isaac nodds his head to where Y/n’s with the alpha twins. “They’ve been flirting with her for the last 15 minutes.”

Scott looks to where Isaac nodded to with wide eyes. “Seriously?”

Stiles nodds. “Yeah.”

“What do you think it’s about?” Scott questions, watching every movement they made towards his friend.

Stiles raises a brow at the true alpha. “What like ulterior motives?”

“They could just think she’s hot.” Isaac shrugged his shoulders, he’d admit Y/n was hot. But he instantly got glares from Scott and Stiles. “Not helping. Got it.”

Later that day after school Y/n and Scott headed back to Scott’s house to study. It had been an hour of pure silence and Y/n couldn’t take it anymore.

“You okay? You’ve been silent since we left school.” Y/n asks, looking concerned at him.

“What did the alpha twins want?” He blurted out what had been on his mind.

“Huh?” Y/n now looked at him confused.

“They were talking to you practically all day. What’d they want?” Scott shrugged his shoulders, not sure how his question wasn’t clear.

“Nothing.” Y/n shrugged back, not getting the big deal.

“They had to want something.” Scott pushed wanting to know but also thinking in the back of his head was this to much? Was he just jealous?

“Is it so hard to believe that they’d just want to talk to me?” Y/n raises her eyebrows in shock at her friend's words.

Scott scoffs. “They were flirting, not talking.”

Y/n nodds. “To flirt you have to talk.”

“So you knew they were flirting.” Scott looked at her with shock and disgust.

Y/n let’s out a short laugh. “Kinda hard to miss but it was really only Aiden.”

“Scott narrows his eyes after hearing the name come out of her mouth. “Ok so you have a preference on a twin.”

“Ethan’s gay!” Y/n yelled looking at Scott with shock and disbelief. “As for the flirting, yeah I enjoyed it. . . It was nice to have that kind of attention.” She bowed her head feeling slightly insecure and embarrassed.

“That kind of attention?” Scott asked, confused on what she meant by that.

“If you haven’t noticed I don’t get flirted with or asked out that often.” Y/n explained keeping her gaze down, playing with a loose thread on her jeans.

“Y/n.” Scott spoke her name sadly, regretting how he came about and was treating her earlier in this conversation.

“Just forget about it. Okay.” She waved him and his impending pity off and got back to studying.

“Y/n.” Scott called her name after a few minutes of silence and thought.

“Hmmm” Y/n hummed in acknowledgment.

“I’d flirt with you anytime.” Scott smiled sheepishly at her.

“Thanks Scott.” Y/n smiled back blushing.

taglist: @padawancat97

[sourwulf]

i beg of you to do a plus size reader (who's got a lot of shame around her body and stuff) fic with stiles where he takes her virginity after they start dating but he's not super experienced, but it's still really good for her

༄  word count  —  3.6k

፨  characters  —  stiles stilinski

☓  tw  —  none

⊹  cw  —  smut & oral, losing of virginity, mentions of body insecurity

☼  a/n — i'm plus size and the first person i ever dated wasn't so i love this idea. also this is a bit longer than most of my other stories, so enjoy :)

✎  masterlist

─

if you could've seen the way stiles looked at you when you had your back turned, you would melt. such adoration, such attraction, it was hard to find. at least, for you it was.

you'd always been bigger, since the second you were born. you were a chunky baby, and despite hoping it was just baby fat you'd grow out of, it stayed. you spent your entire life doing your darndest to hide it, wearing baggy clothes and adjusting them every chance you got.

so when stiles, a lanky skinny guy on the lacrosse team, asked you out, all you could think of was the weight difference.

but stiles didn't really notice. in fact, the only thing he saw when he looked at you was beauty. he thought you had a body that would've been immortalized in a statue back in ancient greece, give or take a few pounds.

you didn't see it but the first time he laid eyes on you, he couldn't take them off for a good thirty seconds. just watching you at lunch, wondering what you were looking at on your phone that made you smile.

there was one day you were at your locker, absentmindedly messing with your books and binders. you weren't far from where stiles was standing with his friend scott, who was also getting what he needed out of his locker.

the immersion was only broken when scott pulled his attention away.

"dude, if you think she's pretty go ask her out," scott insisted, finding you in his eyesight after a few seconds. "you've been pining over her for weeks."

stiles shook his head. "no, man, she's out of my league."

"yeah, so is every girl here." stiles rolled his eyes at the quip. "just go talk to her. she seems nice."

it was just then that you closed your locker and walked toward them, and stiles turned away from you and tried to act casual, like he wasn't just staring intensely at you. you passed them, not even noticing that they were there. once you were out of earshot, stiles leaned against the lockers.

"she's gone now, so..."

scott sighed. "if you wanna date you're gonna have to get over your fear of talking to girls."

"i'm not afraid of talking to girls. i'm awkward. you and i both know that."

"some girls like that."

"what if she doesn't?"

"you'll never know if you don't try."

the bell rang, and stiles stepped away from the lockers. "i'll see you at practice?"

"yep, see you then."

a couple of hours went by before your study hall period. you were in the library, skimming the books in the social studies section, attempting to find one about women's fashion in the 1700s for a book report.

as soon as you pulled a book off the shelf, just like a scene out of a movie, you revealed stiles' face on the other side. he came into the library because he'd seen you enter a few moments before. he didn't know you were right there only feet away from him, but the movement made him look up from the book in his hands. his eyes went wide at your lack of noticing him, reading the description of the book instead.

he studied your face, this being the closest he'd been to you thus far. he noticed the streaks of unnatural colors in your hair, the slight smile on your lips as you realized this was exactly the book you needed. you didn't look back up, instead walking away to check out the book.

he could see you at the register from where he was standing, and when you felt eyes on you, you looked over. his lips were slightly parted, his posture slumped a bit. he had kind eyes, which locked onto you for a moment.

you gave him a small wave, which he didn't return out of panicked awkwardness. when he realized how creepy it might look for him to be staring intently at you, he instead looked away and walked to the end of the aisle, hiding himself from your vision.

you were slightly confused, wondering what that was about.

after about fifteen minutes and you sitting down at a table tucked away in a corner away from other people, the same boy caught your attention. he was looking around to find somewhere to also sit, every other table full of people.

but when he found your table, he stopped in front of it. he didn't speak for a second, just looking at you.

"can i help you?" you asked, not really knowing what else to say.

"oh, uh... sorry. i didn't mean to stare. i didn't mean to stare earlier, either, i just saw you checking out books and didn't realize i was staring until you waved." he realized he was rambling. "do you mind if i sit here?" he motioned toward the chair across from you.

"sure."

once he was seated, his backpack in the chair next to him, he looked at you again.

"stiles." he held his hand out to shake. you took it and shook a couple of times.

"y/n."

"nice to meet you." you gave a small, awkward but friendly smile. "whatcha reading?"

you hesitated, not used to engaging in conversation with strangers. "i'm doing a book report on fashion evolution in the last few centuries. this one is specifically about women's fashion."

"oh, cool."

you looked down at the books he'd laid down in front of him, noticing that they were all different subjects.

"what about you? very different topics there."

"uh..." he thought for a moment. "can i be honest?" you raised your eyebrows in a 'go ahead' manner. "i kind of came in here as an excuse to talk to you."

now your eyebrows dipped down in confusion.

"what?"

"i... i noticed you a little while back. in the cafeteria. i was too chicken to say anything then, but i've been looking for an opportunity to say hi."

"oh."

he nodded. "i hope that's not too weird. i just... thought you were pretty."

you almost chuckled. "pretty?"

"yeah."

"you think i'm pretty?"

he was the one confused now.

"yeah...? why? what's wrong?"

"nothing's wrong, i just... i've never had anyone tell me that before."

"seriously?" you nodded. "you really caught my eye the first time i saw you."

"what exactly was it about me that caught your eye?"

"you were smiling at something on your phone, a text or something. you just had a really warm smile. you looked really pretty."

you could feel butterflies flapping quickly in your stomach, not used to this.

the two of you talked for what felt like hours. you learned that he was on the lacrosse team, and he geeked out talking about his jeep. it was easy to connect with him, conversation coming naturally to you, as if you'd known each other for your whole lives.

eventually, he asked you out on a date, to which you agreed. one date turned into two, then three, then six. movies, dinner, stargazing, double dates. on the sixth date, he invited you over to his house for the first time.

his car was the only one parked in the driveway, his dad at work that night. it was a nice house, nicer than you expected them to be able to afford.

he cooked for you, a simple plate of spaghetti being infinitely better than the food you'd gone out to eat with him. you sat side by side at the round dining room table, the lack of space between you two palpable.

"you're a really good cook, stiles."

with a mouthful of noodles he said, "thank you."

"i don't cook a lot, i need to learn how to. i really like baking, though."

"oh yeah, i remember you talking about that. next time it's your turn to supply the food, then."

you chuckled. "will do."

he watched you eat, distracted from his own food. there was something almost seductive about the way you ate pasta, intentional or not. the way you slurped the noodles past your lips, the sauce that stained them, he wasn't sure. it was like he was watching you in slow motion, like some cheesy eighties movie that zoomed in on your lips.

something came over him. he waited until you swallowed that bite, and he gently grabbed your face and pulled you in for a kiss. it was so gentle it was like he was afraid to do it. it caught you off guard but you melted into his lips, your entire body tensing up.

when he pulled away, you looked at each other, your eyes wide.

"oh," you whispered, not knowing what else to say.

"i-i'm sorry. i shouldn't have-"

"it's okay. that was... that was good."

"yeah?"

"yeah."

"probably not the best kiss you've ever had."

"stiles, that was the only kiss i've ever had."

you'd already told him your lack of past relationships, and he couldn't help but think how blessed he was that he got to be your first experience dating. he was truly lucky.

"oh, right."

"i don't really have anything to compare it to, but it was good."

"yeah?"

"mhm. just... next time don't be so afraid to kiss me."

as if that was his cue, he immediately pulled you back in for another one. you dropped your fork and gripped the edge of the table, kissing him back as if you knew how.

the next thing you knew, you were standing at the side of his bed, his hands gripping your ribs and him continuing to kiss you. with his lips still against yours, he unzipped your jacket and gently pushed it off your shoulders. it dropped to the floor around your feet, and he broke the kiss to look down at your body.

you had on a simple knit sweater, one that was a bit more fitted than most of your clothes.

as his hands slowly slipped under the material, you stopped them.

"what's wrong?" he whispered.

"uh... it's just... i don't want you to be disappointed by what you see."

"what do you mean?"

"i mean... i don't look like the other girls at school."

"in what way?"

you furrowed your brows. "c'mon, stiles, i know you know what i'm talking about."

"elaborate."

"i'm not... thin. i don't have that great of a body."

"seriously? that's what you think?"

"well, yeah. i have a mirror, stiles. i know what i look like."

"not from my perspective."

"i mean, i guess so. but you have to admit, i'm different from them." as you spoke, he unbuttoned your jeans while maintaining eye contact. "i'm serious."

"i know. i get that you feel that way but i don't think that when i look at you."

"what do you think?"

"i think you're out of my league." this made you chuckle. "i'm serious. i told scott the exact same thing the day we met."

"did you now?"

"you can ask him yourself." your pants were now undone, but he stopped before he went any further. "let me show you how beautiful i think you are."

"mm, how are you gonna do that exactly?"

"i may have to just make you wait and see."

you thought for a second before reaching down and pulling your sweater over your head. you felt like your heart was going to pound out of your chest, or stop entirely. you'd never taken your shirt off in front of a boy before, and you were a bit scared about what his reaction would be.

but the look in his eyes as he looked at you made you feel like the prettiest girl in the entire world. your anxiety melted away when you saw the look in his eyes. it was a look of true love, one no one had ever given you.

"wow," he whispered, studying your body.

"okay?"

instead of answering, he planted another kiss on your lips. he wrapped one arm around your back to pull you against him, his other hand cupping your face to hold you close.

he reached around you and gripped the hooks of your bra.

"can i take this off?" he asked into your mouth, to which he received a nod.

this level of vulnerability and openness wasn't something you were used to giving. not one soul had seen your boobs since you went shopping for training bras with your mom and she had to teach you how to use them. that was around the time you'd become truly aware of your weight and body, and decided that you weren't going to show it to anyone for a long, long time.

he continued kissing you as he struggled to unhook it, eventually getting it. to be fair, it was a bit of a difficult one to unhook.

he didn't look down at first, wanting to continue kissing you. his palm laid flat against your back where your bra band previously was, and you let the straps fall off your shoulders and it fell to the floor.

when he did finally take the opportunity to look at your bare chest, he took in a deep breath.

"wow," he said for a second time.

the urge to cover yourself was overwhelming, almost burning. so when your arms gave in and wrapped around your stomach, he pulled them away.

"why're you doin' that?" he whispered.

"just... not used to anyone seeing me."

"well, get used to it. you're so beautiful."

"you really think so?"

"i don't see how you don't."

"you know, just constant years of bullying." you were slightly joking but also not, that being the main reason for your insecurity. a slightly sad expression formed on his face. you looked down and shook your head. "sorry, i didn't mean to kill the mood."

he hooked his finger under your chin and made you look back up at him.

"don't apologize. it's okay." you nodded. "but i promise i'm gonna make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world. because you are."

you smiled and kissed him, pulling his hand up to cup your breast. he took in a sharp breath at this, his thumb gliding over your nipple.

"your turn to take something off."

he obeyed, pulling his shirt up and over his head. he had a patch of chest hair and a couple of moles here and there, but you noticed the scars on his stomach and ribs too. you ran your thumb over one of them and he looked down at it.

"what are these from?"

he sighed. "long stories. they're old, though."

you decided not to pry, realizing he didn't want to talk about old injuries before having sex with you for the first time.

a moment later, you were on your back in his bed, your head on his pillow. he slowly pulled your already undone pants down your legs and kissed the skin as they came off. he decided to go ahead and strip himself of his, leaving both of you in only your underwear. there were only two layers of thin clothing separating you, and as he leaned back down to kiss you, you could feel the tent in his pants growing.

he pressed a kiss to your neck, then your collarbone, then your chest, before engulfing your right nipple in his mouth. he circled it with his tongue for a moment before continuing down your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your stomach.

to have someone love your body instead of shame it made you tremble, not used to the pure affection bursting from his body, leaking from his pores.

he hooked his fingers under your panties, looking at you for permission, which you granted with a hesitant nod. you kept your thighs together for a moment before he kissed your knees, resting his chin on them after a few seconds.

"you don't have to hide anything from me, y/n." he ran his hands up and down your outer thighs and gave a soft smile. "you look so beautiful right now."

this boy was love drunk, his eyes soft and watery. you didn't think it was possible so see an expression so full of love, so desperate to show amore.

you spread your legs, bracing yourself to show all of you to him, to expose your most private areas. but he looked at you like he was an addict, like he needed you just to function.

he'd fallen for you fast, and he'd fallen hard.

after a few seconds he was on his belly, licking and lapping at you like you were a pot of honey. you couldn't hold back the sounds that escaped your throat, unable to describe how good he was making you feel.

you'd masturbated plenty, unsure when it would be someone else pleasuring you. all you'd had was your hand and fingers, and this was way different. it was much warmer, much wetter.

his much stronger than expected hands holding you exactly where he needed you meant all you could do was arch your back. him forcing your hips to still almost made it better, more intense.

because this was the first time you'd been eaten out, you felt your orgasm coming quickly, and when you finally reached your climax, the only sound that came out was a loud and long gasp. you couldn't keep your hips from leaving the mattress as much as he tried to control your movements.

he'd told you before that he wasn't super experienced, only having had sex with one person before you. but you couldn't help but wonder how many times he did this in the past to get him this good at it.

once he was back at your lips to kiss you, he was rock hard, and him grinding against you gave you an idea of what you were in store for.

once his underwear were off and he was sliding a condom on, you got a good look. he was bigger than you expected him to be, but it looked like something you could handle. he was thick too, and you knew you'd be getting stretched out.

"are you still okay with this?" he whispered, kissing your jaw.

"yes, stiles. please." you didn't know why you were begging, it's not like he wasn't going to fuck you if you didn't. but you were antsy, desperate, horny.

he looked into your eyes. "i... shit, i might not last long. it's been a minute."

"that's okay."

"i still want it to be good for you."

"i know it will be. it's okay if you don't. it's my first time, i don't want it to be a marathon."

he nodded. "okay. ready?"

"so ready."

he kissed you as he slid into you, the feeling different than you expected. better than you expected.

once he was fully seated in you, you both let out a soft moan.

"okay?" he asked.

"mhm. i just need to get used to it."

he was gentle, tender with you. he was going slowly as to not hurt you, but it was too slow. you needed more motion and he picked up on that.

"stiles, please, go faster."

he adjusted his position, bending his knees a bit more and pushing your thighs closer to your stomach. he picked up his speed and your moans were already becoming more desperate, more whiny.

"shit, you feel so good," he grunted, trying not to go too fast.

"you do too."

his lips latched onto your neck and his hands balled the sheets under you. the sounds of your wanton moans bounced off the walls and were like music to his ears. he was starting to have to control himself, making sure not to cum too early.

but you could tell he was getting there closer than he expected to. his grunts were becoming more frantic, chasing his orgasm.

after a couple of minutes, it was becoming more and more difficult to hold it off.

"stiles, stop holding back." your commands were gentle and sweet, you wanted him to feel as good as possible too. "i know you're close."

"it hasn't been that long."

"it's okay." that last one was cut off by an uncontrollable moan. "cum for me, stiles." you weren't used to using language like this, so you couldn't help but cringe internally, but those words drove him over the edge. he was thrusting much rougher than he meant to, holding back his orgasm making it even more intense for him.

he busted into the condom, filling it quickly. he slowed his movements, stopping a few thrusts later. he gently kissed you, your hands landing on his ribcage.

it took a few minutes for either of you to catch your breath, and he pulled out of you, tossing the condom in his trash can, and laying beside you. he covered both of you with his comforter, noticing how cold it was in his room.

neither of you spoke for a moment before he reached down and pulled your hand to his lips, kissing the back of your palm.

you laughed silently, looking over at him.

"was that okay? for your first time?"

you nodded. "it was."

"good. i promise next time it'll be better."

"i'm gonna hold you to that, stilinski."

"challenge accepted."

it wasn't long before you drifted to sleep, stiles watching you snore softly with nothing but love in his heart.

[lfzyxf]

Hey, I have another fluffy Isaac Lahey request. What about one where Reader randomly, but frequently compliments/flirts with Isaac just to see his reaction. Could be pre-relationship or established relation, up to you on that. I just think it would be funny/cute.

Did something a little different here, hope you like it! Masterlist Word count: 1050 Taglist: @rachlovesactors

4 + 1

Four times you compliment Isaac, and one time he compliments you.

The first time

The first time it happens is when Stiles once again starts to complain about Isaac’s habit of wearing scarves. “I mean, seriously. Why are you even wearing a scarf right now? It’s the middle of summer.” Isaac rolls his eyes at the comment, “It’s fashion, all right? Not that you’d know anything about it since all you wear are flannels.” He retorts, his arms crossed, and head tilted forward. Stiles is about to respond, hand raised when you interrupt him. “I think it’s nice actually.” The heads of the previously arguing boys turn towards you. “What?” You can’t help but laugh at how in sync they were before shrugging. “I like the scarfs; it adds something to his outfits.” They both stare at you until you eventually walk away. Stiles has a look of disbelief plastered on his face, while Isaac’s smiling smugly at him.

The second time

He didn’t leave, he stayed behind to help Scott. He stayed to help the pack, to help you. He’s walking towards the lacrosse field, ready to bump players out of the game when Scott turns to you. You don’t notice of course, too busy staring at Isaac who is walking on the field with such confidence you can’t look away. It takes him tapping your shoulder for you to look away, only to be met with a teasing grin on his face. “Shut up.” You say quickly before turning your gaze back towards the field. “I didn’t say anything.” He responds you can hear him smiling as he speaks. “But if you wanted to say something, I wouldn’t judge.”  He adds, making you look at him once more. “Gerard has just threatened to kill us all, and you think this is the time to figure out my feelings for him?” Scott sighs at your words, you’re right, of course, but still. “We can’t do anything about that right now, so we might as well.” A few seconds after he says that Isaac is on the ground in pain. The two of you quickly stand up, just before Scott starts to run towards the wolf in pain you stop him. “Maybe he’s a tiny bit good-looking.” You tell him before making your way towards Isaac. Scott can’t help but laugh at your words before following you and getting Isaac some help.

The third time

It happens again when Allison is explaining to Isaac how riding a motorbike works. He looks confident, cocky even. It suits him well, and you tell him so when Allison takes a picture for Scott. “This look suits you well.” You comment when he puts on the helmet that was hanging on the throttle of the bike. Isaacs’s eyes meet yours in a second. If you look closely, you can make out a part of his cheeks reddened at your comment. Allison coughs before turning towards you and smirking. “Should I send you the picture as well so you can look at it some more?” She asks teasingly. Unfazed you nod, “That’d be great actually.” Before patting the bike once and moving to the side to let Isaac through. It takes him a moment to gather himself before he’s off and driving through the school hallways to get revenge on the twins.

The fourth time

This is very awkward. When bringing Meredith to Scott’s home you certainly weren’t expecting his dad to be here. Coming up with an excuse as to why we were all there, Stiles quickly explains and tells him that we have a study session going on. “Who’s she?” His dad asks, clearly not convinced. Stiles quickly moves his arm around her shoulders before confidently saying, “My girlfriend.” Until Meredith quickly shatters that illusion by muttering that he’s not her type. “Well, we obviously have a lot to talk about,” Stiles responds, “We should maybe take this upstairs?” Meredith instead looks at Isaac before claiming that he is, in fact, her type. Everyone looks around awkwardly before Stiles decides that Isaac should just come as well. The trio quickly makes their way upstairs, leaving you with Scott and his dad. “Well,” you saw awkwardly. “Can’t blame the girl, he is pretty hot.” Before going the same way, the other three went a few moments before. Oblivious to the fact that Isaac heard you thank the universe for werewolf hearing.

Plus one

It’s another year at school. A lot happened in the previous one, a lot of bad things. Allison for example isn’t here for the new year. But we did get Stiles back, and the Nogitsune is gone once more. The locker room is almost empty when you knock on the door. When Scott lets you know that there aren’t any half-naked boys around, you walk in. You can hear four voices when you walk in, hidden behind a row of lockers. Making your way towards them you wish you hadn’t, the sight of Stiles questioning a boy you hadn’t seen before. Stopping beside Scott you can see an embarrassed look on his face. Looking to your left you spot an unimpressed Isaac staring down at Stiles. The boy turns to grab his stuff before looking up at Stiles, “Guess I’m just that good.” He says before walking off.

Scott moves to stand next to Stiles as they watch him walk off, an impressed look on his face. “Wasn’t lying that time,” Scott says making Isaac laugh. “Anyone want to tell me what that was about?” You ask staring at three men in front of you. Isaac moves one of his arms around your shoulders before explaining. “New guy, Liam. He’s great at lacrosse and Stiles just can’t seem to accept that.” Looking over at Stiles you can’t help but laugh at the dejected look on his face. “Is it that hard to believe someone is just good at playing lacrosse?” You ask him, but before he can respond Isaac interrupts. “Not everyone can be as talented as you.” He winks at you before patting your shoulder and walking off. Leaving you with Scott and Stiles, who are both staring at you. Stiles with wide, confused eyes, and Scott with a smug expression. “So, what was that about not having any feelings for him?” Scott asks smiling at you.

[zaceouiswriting]

The Football Stud: Fever

Character: Gabe x male reader, (mentioned) Nolan Halloway

Universe: Somewhere in Teen wolf

Warnings: Smut: hardcore, degradation, humiliation, feminization, mentioned non-con

Author's Note: Sorry for the late upload. I was going to post something for Christmas, but that's coming much later. I actually wanted to do something wholesome, but it turned into smut faster than I could see, and I lost interest in it, so I wrote a smutty half request instead. (Please don't ask about the logic; there is none) I hope you guys enjoy this one.

You felt uncomfortable even though it fit perfectly, and unfortunately, you had to admit that it didn't look bad on you as you admired yourself in the bathroom mirror.

“Are you coming or not?” Gabe’s deep voice bellowed authoritatively through the locker room, easily reaching your ear.

You swallowed nervously, not wanting to answer, as you knew he would be mad if you were honest. But you took a deep breath because you were even more afraid of his reaction if you didn't answer.

"I don't really feel comfortable showing-"

"Shut up and come out," he shouted, audibly annoyed, "so you can do literally the only thing a stupid fag like you is good for!"

It felt like he had just punched you right in the chest. You felt humiliated on so many levels, and yet you opened the bathroom door, which led straight into the changing room near the showers.

You would be in the locker room if you just walked around the corner. It had been nearly an hour since the football game ended, and the coach handed Gabe the keys to lock the room behind him. The only visible light was the static glow of the lamps in the room, as the sun had long since given way to the moon.

Head down, you rounded the corner with tiny steps. You didn't see Gabe right away, but you became very aware of him when you heard him whistle after you. The first time it happened, you felt exhilarated, even ecstatic.

There, Gabe sat comfortably on one of the benches against the wall. His body was now much more muscular, as he trained twice as much as he used to, but on his lips was the same superior, condescending smirk, still the same, yet so different.

"You look so fucking hot," he commented, beckoning you to come closer to him, which you did.

When you were in front of him, he ordered you to twirl. You saw his eyes darken with lust as he took another swig of his beer bottle. Technically, he wasn't old enough to drink yet, but the football team had some leeway, at least on university grounds.

He emptied his bottle, placed it safely under the bench, and then simply grabbed you by the waist and sat you on one of his legs.

“Look at this skirt,” he said, fascinated by the sight.

You had no idea where he got it, but right before the game, he gave you a backpack with a cheerleading uniform and something else you wouldn't even think about out of embarrassment. Still, you put on everything he gave you.

“Are you satisfied?” you asked, stuttering and uncertain.

“You can be fucking sure of that!” he boasted loudly. "And even more so if a certain slut had listened to me the first time and not made me wait so long!"

There was a danger gleaming in his eyes that you knew all too well. He'll punish you, force you to shout more than just his name, and treat you so roughly that you'll miss class again. Before starting, you knew you'd have to lie to the others again about all the bruises you'd come home with. Last time, your fraternity almost started a manhunt because they thought someone was forcing them on you, but you somehow managed to calm them down, even though you had to admit to some pretty dirty secrets of yours.

You felt his rough hand on your lower back, moving further down to your ass. Suddenly, you let out a yelp as the same big hand gave your behind a hearty squeeze.

“What a perky ass,” he mutters in a slightly slurred voice, “fuck!”

"Don't you want to sit on my lap, baby girl?" His lips were so close to your ear that you almost moaned reflexively. "I know a dirty slut like you would love to know how fucking hard you make me."

Before you knew it, he had pulled you onto his lap. Both his hands were on your waist as he vigorously ground your ass on his lap. You could feel his big cock getting hard and poking you through his tight football pants.

When you heard him moan softly, you felt the heat rise to your face; you had never heard him moan desperately like that before. Usually, he moans like a rutting bull as he relentlessly thrusts his cock into you, but this somehow felt much more intimate.

"Do I have to remind you what I am to you?" His voice, which had previously been filled with lust, was suddenly stern, even cold. You swallowed hard and couldn't answer. "Pretend you can't hear me?" His laugh was dry; you already knew he was done.

Without a word, he pushed you off his lap but held you up, standing in front of him. Just a second later, his large body overshadowed you, with his hands tightened around your waist once more.

"What a cute little girl," he murmurs into your hair, "So small and yet so disobedient."

Your blood ran cold. He seemed angry, even furious, but you didn't do anything that bad, right? But even if you argue with him, it won't help and will only worsen things.

He doesn't say another word. Instead, he wraps one arm around your waist and lifts you effortlessly. He carried you to some lockers in the middle of the room, sat you back down on the floor, and bent you forward slightly with his other hand while he told you in a barely whispered voice to hold on to the lockers for dear life.

You were already halfway gone from worry and desire—if you were a girl, you knew you would be soaked—now only pre-cum covered the surprise under your short skirt. You truly felt like a slut in that moment, just like Gabe had always told you. Even though you weren't entirely sure what would happen next, you knew you had to hide how much you were already enjoying it.

He traced his rough fingertips over your figure, dancing on your skin like a drunken wisp. By the time they landed on your skirt and took it in his hands, you felt him shudder. Fearing that something had happened, you turned your head only to see Gabe's sinister grin. When he caught your gaze, his intentions were more than clear.

“Aren’t you a pretty girl?”

There it was again. At first, you thought he was just maddened from drunkenness, but now it was clear. He was actually feminizing you. You should have known when he made you dress in a girl's cheerleading outfit.

As you were in thought, Gabe covered you completely with his body, pressing his head firmly into your nape, gently kissing your neck, and eliciting soft moans from your stunned body. His hands continued to explore the entire time, finding their way under your skirt and gently caressing your legs, but you were sure that this would be the only time he would be tender with you that night.

And as if you had summoned it, he ripped up your skirt and slapped your right butt cheek with so much force that it almost threw you flat against the locker, only for him to whistle as if nothing had happened.

"Bitch, you look good in lace!" Gabe slurred like the drunken stud he is, so needy and horny that it was hard to believe.

You didn't even know where he got it because the price tag was still on when you got it, and you almost fainted; it was so expensive that you knew he wanted to do this more often, or so you thought.

“I really can’t wait,” Gabe suddenly murmured as he leaned back in his standing position.

With a quick movement, he shifted the tiny piece of fabric that hid your hole to the side, circling it with his finger before attempting to enter it, only to be stopped as it had contracted too much. You could hear him swearing quietly, cursing you and your uselessness.

Before you knew it, Gabe had raised two fingers to your mouth and ordered you to wet them, as that was the only lube you would get.

Without hesitation, you took them between your lips, let your tongue dance on his long, salty, calloused fingers, and finally took them completely into your mouth, feeling them touch the back of your throat.

The second his fingers reached the back of your throat, all you heard was him cursing once again, angry that he didn't use your throat, even though he had trained it for so long not to gag, even when he shoved his huge cock all the way into your mouth with one sharp thrust.

You knew from the beginning that it would make him mad because you knew full well that deepthroating him was his favorite sensation, especially in a crowded university lecture hall.

Gabe only gave you about a minute before he pulled his finger out of your mouth and immediately, with a precision that a drunk man like him shouldn't have, slid his fingers inside your ass. You gritted your teeth, holding back the pain, knowing that Gabe hated it when you showed any emotion other than lust and desire for him.

Without even trying, this guy hit the spot that made your mind go blank for a second, and when you came back, you felt a pain in your forehead. You found yourself in direct contact with the metal side of the locker.

As his fingers aggressively penetrated your hole, a pain shot through your ass. But you didn't complain because that was all you would get before he took you at a pace so brutal that you'd thank God he'd even prepared you in any way, which was already something great of him, as it was something he didn't do all the time.

“That should be enough,” Gabe mumbled, something he probably didn’t even want to say out loud.

Suddenly, you feel him swaying from side to side, the alcohol clearly taking its effect. But he doesn't let that distract him and instead guides his cock, albeit with difficulty, to your hole.

Although you feared the brutal treatment you would receive, you could barely contain your anticipation of feeling him again. It had been a while, and your hole felt empty for quite a long time. As he circled your hole, you quickly became impatient. While you subtly tried to get his cock into you, all you got was a hard smack on your ass, which was glowing a bright red color at this point.

Gabe muttered under his breath, cursing you for being an impatient cockslut, a bitch that needed to be filled. Although it seemed odd to you that he was trying to feminize you, it did something deep inside you.

"You want this cock?" he asked smugly, his words becoming more slurred by the second. "I'll fill you up like the good little slut you are until your belly is full of my child!"

Without even waiting for an answer, he pushed his cock in and didn't stop, even when you felt it was getting too tight, but you knew it would fit, even if it hurt a little. So you bit your tongue and waited for the pain to subside instead of saying anything or even making a sound.

In one forceful motion, his hands wrapped painfully tightly around your hips, just under your skirt, so tight that it hurt, but you still didn't make a sound; he penetrated you.

Only when you finally felt his thick glans pressing against your prostate did you open your mouth, which was usually so large when he hadn't had anything to drink. This drew a long, intense moan from you, which, in turn, elicited a deep, sadistic chuckle from Gabe.

“That's the shit,” grunted Gabe, “Moan louder for me, bitch!”

As you felt another slap and his cock throbbing violently inside you, you were forced to give him exactly what he wanted. You gave him more, moaning sluttily and even going an octave higher than you thought possible, sounding almost like a real girl.

"God... fuck," he muttered quietly as his hands became a little more bearable. "That's my little girl, my good little slut!"

He even went so far as to pet your head, almost making you feel like he really cared about you. But the relentless pace of his thrusts told you otherwise. Although you wished things were different, you knew there would be nothing between you, nothing other than mind-blowing sex, that is.

Gabe's thrusts got even harder, his warm manhood burning so well in your hole, but the worst part for you was how precisely he hit your prostate each time. With every thrust deep into your bowels, barely visible on your stomach, he ripped your senses from their sockets again and again. It was almost torture, but you loved every second of it, feeling like you could fly, breathe underwater, and face the next day as if you had conquered it many times before.

At the limit of your senses, you felt one of his hands moving up your stomach to your pectoral muscles. He squeezes your slightly trained muscle, which elicits a satisfied grunt from him.

For a long moment, it was completely silent; nothing was said, and the only sounds echoing through the room were the rapid, rhythmic slapping of your skins and the animalistic noises Gabe made like the brute he was.

“I’m about to bust,” Gabe suddenly announced, although his breathing and voice were even.

You were speechless; he had never come so quickly and calmly, always out of breath, sweating like crazy. Now, he was none of that.

As announced, it took almost no time before a few thick jets of cum filled your insides with much-needed warmth.

Gabe didn't pull out as he usually would. Instead, you saw his hand on the locker wall next to your head as you returned to the plane of the living, his muscular body hard against your back, and his warm breath that smelled of beer and something fruity, maybe strawberries or something similar. Turning your head slightly, you saw him grinning smugly at you; your heart dropped into your skirt.

Suddenly, you felt something soft on your lips. You couldn't process the sight before you; Gabe was so close, his eyes closed and his sinful lips capturing yours in a gentle, warm embrace. It lasted only a fleeting moment, warm and completely unexpected.

“Such a good, pretty girl for daddy.”

Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red. You wanted to mock and belittle him for calling himself that, but you didn't. You felt warm and wanted for once. So you let it pass and looked away in embarrassment, but Gabe, with a gentleness you'd never experienced from him before, placed a finger around your chin and forced your head back without much effort.

"Don't look away, baby," he murmured against your lips before capturing them again.

This time, he didn't close his eyes, instead holding eye contact with a knowing glint in his eyes. But you couldn't hold the eye contact for long. You closed your eyes and melted in his embrace. Your tongues quickly entangled with his, clearly more dominant. He pulled you closer to him, both of his hands exploring the front of your body as if it belonged to him.

It wasn't until he separated the two of you that you realized you were no longer standing but sitting safely on Gabe's lap. He was now leaning comfortably against the wall, hands clasped behind his head, flexing his biceps the entire time, clearly visible even through his football uniform. You'd be lying if you didn't feel things you weren't too proud of.

"Now be a good little slut and ride me," he told you arrogantly. "I've made you cum three times already, and I only came once, so keep going, baby."

He massaged your upper body as if calming you down as he spoke. It worked somewhat, but as you tried to follow his orders, you realized something: your legs hurt too much to move. Panic rose in you, afraid of what would happen if he knew. So you tried your best and even put your hands on his thighs, using them as leverage to move yourself up. But your whole body felt heavy.

Before you knew it, your arms gave way, and you fell against Gabe's chest. You heard his angry breathing and felt his hot breath on your neck.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” you admitted sheepishly.

Suddenly, you felt a violent jolt and quickly found yourself on the cold floor. The skirt you had been given and the tight top were already worn out, even slightly torn, not to mention the lace underwear that was already crumpled and almost destroyed.

Gabe towered over you with his fists clenched. "You worthless bitch," he mutters, seemingly ready to dish out the worst punishment. But to your surprise, he just crouches down next to you. "I told you what will happen if you turn out to be worthless and unable to complete your one fucking job, you stupid whore!"

His voice was steady; none of the slurring you heard before was left as if he had never been drunk. Without hesitation, he spat in your face, stood back up, went to his backpack, and pulled out his phone.

Unable to move, you could only stare at him with wide eyes, horror coursing through your veins as you heard the disgusting words he used.

Just as you started to feel your legs again, the locker room door busted open. Loud laughter and energetic, indistinct conversations followed. The entire football team soon filled the room, but no one was looking at you as they greeted their quarterback. Gabe made pleasant conversation before folding his arms across his chest, not glancing in your direction once, just a small nod in your direction and more demeaning words.

When the team first looked at you, they were smug, calling you a needy slut who would even play a girl just to get some cock. Even though you felt bad, they had a point. But you still thought Gabe would say something in your defense, but he didn't.

Instead, even more horrible words came from him: He told his team that they could do whatever they wanted with you since you were useless to him now, but he wanted the cheerleading uniform and underwear back, even if they were in tatters.

You were too stunned, but when you saw Gabe, already changed and leaving, you stretched out your arm and begged him to take you with him. Instead, you only heard a scoff before he left the room and closed the door behind him.

As you were about to lower your hand, one of the boys took it with a wickedly grim grin. He gently stroked your hand, only to tell you to be a good slut to them because they weren't as generous as Gabe and would take drastic measures to make sure you did right by them.

Although you were disgusted and scared, you still nodded. You cried silently as you felt dozens of hands on you and someone supporting you. But when he was about to enter you, you screamed.

***

You woke up weakened, your body covered in a thick layer of sweat. Groaning in pain, you tried to find out where you were, only to find yourself in your fraternity bedroom.

“Thank God you’re awake,” you heard a gentle voice say.

You turned your head and smiled gently. "Nolan, what happened?"

Concerned, he touched your forehead, only to quickly pull away.

"You're not any better," he whispers lightly. "You fainted in one of your lectures, and our university doctor sent you back with Mark because you weren't so bad that you had to stay there. He did give him some medication for you, though."

You wanted to take the pills, but you couldn't move your body, just like in the locker room. Nolan quickly noticed this, put them in your mouth, and helped you drink some water.

You grimaced as the cold liquid ran down your throat, but then a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“Did something happen to Gabe or the football team?” you asked in a hoarse voice.

It was immediately obvious that Nolan was uncomfortable. You feared the worst and believed that your dream was actually reality. 

"Gabe came over but left when he heard you were sick," Nolan told you. "I still can't believe you tolerate him taking advantage of you like that."

Smiling and relieved that what you had experienced, even though it felt real, was only a dream, you gently stroked Nolan's hand.

"I wish he loved me as much as I love him, but I'm content with how things are right now," you said slowly, even though your throat hurt. "As long as I'm in this fraternity, I get the best of both worlds: mind-numbing sex with the person I love while also being able to cuddle with you guys and do all the cute couple things without anyone being pressured to feel anything."

Nolan sat there stunned, never having thought about it like you did, but he realized they actually treated you like their partner. All the time outside of class and when you weren't getting fucked by Gabe, they spent with you and your fraternity, cuddling, watching movies, playing games, and going out. None of them even had partners; they were completely focused on you.

You smiled as you slowly fell back asleep but asked Nolan to take care of you. Unconsciously, you laid your head on his hand, causing Nolan to get stuck.

A few hours later, someone else opened your bedroom door.

"Is everything okay?" The new person asked but got no answer. When he walked in, he saw Nolan holding you in his arms. "Damn, I must be late," he commented quietly, chuckling as she walked back out and closed the door behind her. Cursing himself for letting Nolan out of his sight.

[Masterlist]

[heliads]

Hi!! I miss your Derek fics so much so how’s one where you and him are in a casual relationship if yk what I mean when all of a sudden there’s a mishap that causes him to pull away and end up ghosting you because he caught feelings and is terrified of them, you still try to get in contact with him but got tired of it and that’s when Derek comes back basically begging for a chance to fix it🥺

masterlist

Derek Hale knows he’s gone too far because he’s no longer nervous waking up to hear someone else’s heartbeat next to him. Derek stays alone, always; it saves him the trouble of having to think about saving someone other than himself if he ever wakes up to another roaring inferno. Derek is good at being alone. It’s never something he’s struggled with, even as a lone wolf without a pack. He still talks to other people on occasion. It’s fine.

He’d thought it was fine. Derek had almost gotten to the point of convincing himself of it, and then he started making mistakes like entertaining himself with someone else, and by the time it occurred to him that he was long past the point of no return, there was no way he could ever end it. So he lives with it, it’s fine. Until it isn’t.

Derek Hale has never been the type to get caught up over a girl. He did it once, then swore it would never happen again. There is the idea of Derek, the lone wolf; Derek, the man with a heart colder than ice. He wouldn’t go so far as to describe himself as a womanizer, but he’s dated not one but two of the women who’ve tried to kill him and the other wolves in town, so maybe he should start thinking about raising his standards.

He did, though. That was the problem. Of all the people in this world, good and bad and outright bloodthirsty, Derek found the one woman capable of waltzing right past his best defenses and laying claim to the very organ he thought would never be bothered with again. Derek has long since assumed that, so long as it keeps beating on schedule, he’d never think about his heart unless someone was actively ripping it out of his chest, but Y/N changed that. She changed everything.

It was nothing at first. That’s what he promised himself the first time he woke up in an unfamiliar room that definitely wasn’t in his apartment complex. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he picked up on the sound of someone else breathing evenly next to him, but Y/N had woken up not long after him so they’d been able to talk things through. They’d both agreed that it was a one time thing, the result of years of rising tensions against supernaturals in Beacon Hills, and would never happen again.

The second time, Derek was no less taken aback, but a little more disappointed in himself. Usually, when he makes his word, he sticks to it for longer than a month. He’d left before she woke up that time. Didn’t stop him from crawling back, though. He can blame it on the alcohol that doesn’t affect him, the battle rush of adrenaline he’s long since learned to master. Excuses are easy. Falling is easier still.

Derek doesn’t fall, though. He won’t. Even if it kills him. Especially if it kills him. Derek can lock himself up and cut away his heart and distrust his mind until any conceivable feeling dies off from lack of oxygen. It wouldn’t be the first time. Somehow, he doubts it’ll be the last.

This is all well and good, but it doesn’t work as well as it should. Even now, blinking the last of the past night’s sleep from his eyes, Derek sits up slowly in his own bed, and the sight of Y/N there next to him isn’t surprising. Not at all. His internal alarm system stopped going off around her a long time ago. Hell, he gets more uneasy the longer he goes without seeing her instead of the other way around.

A year ago, he would have called that a mistake. Hales survive because they trust only each other. Y/N may be an ally in this eternally war-torn town, but that does not make her someone he can afford to keep around. Still, when he carefully lifts himself out of bed to avoid waking her, when she comes out of the room about half an hour later in one of his shirts, when Derek can’t quite tell where her perfume ends and his cologne begins, he wonders to himself if he hasn’t already crossed that line a very long time ago.

It doesn’t matter. None of this is real. He doesn’t make her breakfast, she doesn’t say goodbye. They just go about their lives as if the past night had never happened at all, as if none of the nights before that, all stretching out in one vast line of pale, bedsheet-white dominoes do not exist between them. You cannot topple what you do not see, and Derek’s eyes are snapped shut tight.

He’s started noticing things, though, against his better judgment. The furrows in Y/N’s brow vanish while she’s asleep, but they appear again when she looks around at her house or his in the morning and remembers something she’ll never tell him. Her shoulders always rise and pinch together right before she leaves without a word. Derek has started making himself scarce whenever she wakes up. It’s better for both of them if there’s no opportunity to stay any longer.

Most of all, Derek takes care to ensure that whatever happens at night does not affect either of them during the day. Y/N’s more closely allied with the McCall pack than whatever dregs are left of Derek’s ill-gotten attempt to seize power with his own batch of betas, but he still sees her often enough on wolf business. Derek has no doubt that Scott has caught on to the fact that they’re seeing each other, but neither of them will bring it up so long as it doesn’t become a problem.

A couple of times, Derek has felt Scott’s eyes on him like an accusation, burning holes into his shoulders whenever Y/N shows up late or seems listless during the discussions. Derek wants to throw up his hands and declare to anyone who cares to listen or blame him that he’s doing his best to make sure he isn’t the cause, but he doubts any of the younger pack members want to know that he’s specifically trimming off any stem of feeling before it takes root. He’s doing his best, at least. Surely that counts for something.

Still, he can feel their judgment like a plague, even outside of passing glimpses. When Scott McCall shows up at Derek’s door to ask for his help with a sudden hunter shootout at the hospital, Derek can still see the awareness in the back of the kid’s eyes. Y/N’s got her own thing going, Derek wants to clarify, she’s long past school-crush days just like him. They’re both adults and they can do what they please. High school sweethearts all die by hunters’ arrows. The ones who survive don’t play by the rules.

Scott will never bring it up, though, so Derek won’t, either. Instead, he just accompanies Scott to the hospital, where he slashes and stabs at anyone who tries to shoot at him. These sorts of things are becoming normal occurrences by now; Melissa McCall and the other doctors are probably sick of it, but what can you do?

Derek’s only half paying attention. He focuses enough to keep himself alive, but it’s easy to go on autopilot. The hunters will always attack, and they will always defend. Some will get hurt. They’ll heal in time to start the game over again. Nothing new.

It should be nothing new. It is, until Derek rounds a corner and he sees one of the hunters shooting at Y/N’s back. She’s distracted taking out someone else. She won’t react in time, Derek knows it, he can feel it in his bones like a bad frost, and Derek– he actually screams, a guttural shout of despair, and he hurls himself at the hunter. The gun goes flying out of the guy’s hands and into a corner of the room, blood spatters following it a second later. It’s alright again. Y/N is fine.

Y/N, actually, is staring at him in confusion. “What was that about?” She asks slowly.

Derek catches a hazy glimpse of himself in the glass panel of a nearby door and realizes that he looks mad. His eyes are wide, startled, glowing; his claws are out and dripping with gore. “He was going to shoot you,” he says, a little unsteadily, “You weren’t paying attention.”

She shakes her head slowly. “I was, Derek. His gun was empty. No more bullets left, I heard the empty barrel click a minute ago.”

Derek stares at her uncomprehendingly, and Y/N has to cross the room, pick up the fallen hunter’s weapon, and pull the trigger several times until Derek understands. She was right, no ammunition was shot. It was a complete misfire on his end, and something that he should have picked up on far before he decided to strike. If Y/N could hear that the gun was empty from across the room, Derek should have known it from where he stood.

He knows what this means, then. It means he’s making mistakes, and mistakes get you killed. They get everyone killed. Derek hasn’t made a mistake like this in a long time, because he never let anyone in, but he has now, hasn’t he? He’s known it for a long time. Y/N means far more to him than a prolonged one night stand. He has feelings for her, of a depth he couldn’t decipher if given a thousand years trapped inside his own head. Derek Hale has fallen in love, but this love will destroy him. It will make him weak.

And, fuck, Derek knows how this is going to end. How it always ends. He is a fire, consuming everything in his path; burning down his family home; choking the last breath from the lungs of anyone foolish enough to love him. If Y/N realizes that he loves her, if she does something so terrible as to love him back, she will fall before the year is out. They always do, and it will be his fault again, his fault like it was for all the others.

He moves before he knows what he’s doing. Y/N is calling after him, he thinks, but Derek is already rounding the corner and out of the hallway. Hunters in his path are killed by a wolf that might be Derek, if Derek was aware enough of what he was doing to act on anything more than animal instinct. Instead, he just keeps going like a bloodsoaked robot until Scott tells him it’s over, and then he leaves. He does not check in with the rest of the pack. He does not check in with Y/N.

In fact, he does not speak with her again. She tries texting him afterwards to see if he’s alright, and then even shows up at his door when he’s unresponsive for days, but Derek just waits silently in the confines of his apartment until she goes away. She can probably hear his heartbeat, but it doesn’t matter. This will benefit both of them. Neither Derek nor Y/N can afford an attachment like this. He’s already started slipping up in the heat of battle. Who knows what sort of deadly error he will commit next?

If he thought the McCall pack’s judgment was bad enough before, they’re downright diabolical now. He can’t speak to them without being on the receiving end of a thousand hateful stares. Every time he so much as crosses their path, you’d think he murdered their entire family. It’s unreal. Don’t they know he’s doing this for the best? 

It’s not like Derek enjoys this, anyway. It’s unnatural. He’s started waking up at odd hours of the night, reaching out for someone who isn’t there. Derek rises with the sun and stares at the empty other half of the bed. He starts to get up quietly and then remembers that there’s no one around who’s still sleeping, so he can be as loud as he pleases. It feels wrong when the floor creaks.

He’s started creeping closer to the door whenever Y/N stops by. He hovers right by the threshold, listening; he can tell by the inflections of her voice that she’s starting to give up hope, and then she stops coming. When a week goes by without a single word from her, Derek thinks that he should be pleased because he’s finally saved her from himself, but instead, all he feels is alone.

It’s not a good feeling, this. Derek thought he would be able to shake off any and all feelings for her in a matter of weeks, but even a month later, he’s still in a terrible state. Lydia starts taking pity on him, he thinks, and actually treats him like a normal human being again, which kind of makes it all worse. He doesn’t want her compassion. He wants–

He wants Y/N. Waking up alone again, hands curling into fists around empty sheets, Derek realizes the earth-shattering truth as if from a dream. He wants her. He wants her more than anything. If this is safety, Derek doesn’t want it. He hates not knowing if she’s alright. He hates thinking that he might have hurt her. If this is the cost of keeping them both alive, Derek would rather be dead.

He throws on his clothes, headed towards the door in a flash. He wakes up early, always has; if he can just get over to her place before she leaves to go to work, maybe it would be okay– maybe she would still want him– maybe he would be enough, now that he knows without a shadow of a doubt that she is for him–

Y/N doesn’t open her door at first, which is, admittedly, justified. Derek’s cheeks flush with shame remembering all the times he’d pointedly ignored her visits. However, she’s better than him, always has been, and opens the door eventually. He looks at her, breathes out at last, and says– “I miss you.”

Y/N arches a brow. “You do?”

“I do,” Derek repeats, “And I’ve been– stupid, really, and I shouldn’t have been. I know better than that.”

Y/N folds her arms across her chest. “What made you change your mind?”

“I realized I love you,” Derek says. It’s only five words, but it makes Y/N sway as if she’s been shot.

“You’re just saying that,” she whispers faintly.

Derek shakes her head. “I’m not the type to throw those words around. You know that. You know me better than anyone, Y/N. Tell me if I’m lying.”

He waits. She stares at him, but at last she nods slowly, and says, “You love me?”

“I love you,” he affirms. Then: “Can I come in?”

A ghost of a smile haunts her lips. “Always so forward, aren’t you?”

He laughs a little, actually. It surprises both of them, Derek the most. “I thought you liked that about me.”

“I do,” she admits, and steps aside to let him pass. Derek lingers by her side, he can’t help it. Moments like these were meant to be treasured. He may have messed up too many of them to count, but for once, Derek can start again. He intends to make the most of it.

teen wolf tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @23victoria

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[ruewrote]

𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

PAIRING: stiles stilinski x fem!reader WARNINGS: none GENRE: FLUFF SONG INSPIRATION: can i call you tonight? by dayglow WORD COUNT: 479

navigation | ask | stiles stilinski masterlist

There weren't many moments like these anymore, the ones where you and stiles would see each other the majority of the school day and then you’d continue to facetime each other as soon as you got home.

Sometimes helping with homework, but most of the time you guys just yapped about anything and everything, what happened that day, what either one of you was looking forward to. A Lot of the talk was about what lego set you wanted to build together next.

Hours go by and you’re still on the phone, the talking slows down almost to a halt, now just existing in each other's presence. The silence was comforting, there was no such thing of a social battery when it came to stiles.

You’d often find it draining being around other people, your anxiety at an all time high whether that be with your other friends or strangers. It was strange, how you didn’t have to speak one word between the two of you and he already knew what you wanted or knew how you felt.

Like right now, the chaos had died down, you’re laid in bed, your phone propped up against a book on your bedside table, watching stiles type on his laptop. Either doing homework or playing a game. You watched sleepily as you snuggled into the pillow that was tucked under your chin.

Even after a week or two of not talking all that often you were finally able to really look at him. The circles underneath his eyes were a little bit darker, a tinge of worry spread through your chest as you continued to look over him.

His eyebrows lightly furrowed, biting his lip as he narrowed his eyes down at the screen, concentrating. That made you chuckle, grabbing his attention. His eyes flickered over to his own phone.

“What are you laughing at?” he jokes as he takes in your surroundings.

“Your face.”

“My face?”

“Mhm…”

“What’s wrong with my face?” he questions, self consciously rubbing one of cheeks.

“Nothing, just missed it.” his eyes soften at your words. A flash of guilt crosses his features.

“I missed you too, ya know.” 

You nod as you look away from your camera, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. Your attention is quickly back on your screen when you hear the sound of his shutting and the sound of his own sheets shuffling.

Minutes passed, not one of you talked, fighting sleep was becoming a struggle now, well that was until you heard him speak, “sleep, i'll still be here in the morning, i promise,” his words were as truthful as the last time that he spoke them, he was also finding it hard to keep his eyes open too.

“Goodnight…” your eyes flutter shut,

“Sweet dreams.”

Just as you fully fall into slumber you hear,

“I love you."

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