#stiles stilinski x yn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

s3thwrit3sstuff · 9 months

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❝ Burn for you ❞

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything beyond Stiles is irrelevant.

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

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

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

No, not whimper.

Moan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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obriengf · 2 years

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Empatheia ✽ Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: A boy gets bitten under the glow of a near-full moon, while a girl feels things she has never felt before. Words: 10.3k Warnings: mentions of death, dead body, swearing ✽ Series masterlist ✽

Chapter One: 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 /Part 1

Sophomore Year was going to be your year. You promised yourself over the summer break that you’d try to make something of yourself – branch out, meet new people and try new things. Become the person that you desired to be with oozing confidence and the capability to be seen as greater than you currently were. Not that you didn’t like the individual that you were growing into; but it comes to a time where you just simply, and utterly, want more. And you were going to get more, no matter what it took.

You were perched snugly on the edge of your bed; your school bag sitting near your door, already packed and prepared, with an outfit hanging neatly beside it. It was quiet as the sun had already set and darkness had begun to roll in – the only sounds you could hear being the gently hum of your ceiling light as a chorus of soft crickets sung from somewhere beyond your bedroom window. Lazy eyes flickered around your room as they took in the happy faces captured perfectly in an array of photographs, followed by the peeling of old wallpaper that was in desperate need of replacing. You took notice of the near full clothes hamper that you needed to eventually empty and wash, before your gaze settled on the shadowed movement of a clumsy figure hidden behind closed navy curtains. You assumed your neighbour was preparing for the big day ahead as well, but then again, you could never put your finger on what that silly boy was really thinking.

It was getting late and your Aunt had already wished you luck for the following day before slumber overtook her nearly an hour ago, but you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. You laid with hands clasped over your stomach, eyes wide as they stared into the darkened abyss of your ceiling. You attempted for the fifth time to close your eyes, but it was then that you head a familiar engine spluttering - gears loud as they wore metal against metal, a vehicle practically screaming for a tune-up as it backed down the driveway. Your eyes rolled back in annoyance. That damn jeep, you thought. With a loud huff, you rolled onto your side, your blanket pulled up under your chin with all intentions to finally just sleep.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been laying there before an awful clenching sensation started in your chest. It was as if something sharp has ripped through your skin as grasped at your heart, squeezing. Your body began to slowly shudder – a feeling of despair churning your gut, heaviness dragging at your shoulders, and pressure grasping at your neck to mimic complete breathlessness. You slid to the floor, landing awkwardly in a heap of messed limbs. You tried to stand but your legs fell out from under you, voiceless screams unable to break past your lips when you began to feel phantom pain from your torso. If anything, it felt as if your body was being torn in two. The next thing you remembered was reaching out for your phone, before you slipped, your head banging against the edge of your nightstand, and it all went black.

It was a strange feeling when your eyes fluttered open, greeting you with darkened woodland surroundings as your legs carried you quietly through the outdoor space. The first thing you did was curse at yourself – you wore bare feet and a simple tank with your long pyjama bottoms, the hem dragging through the moistened dirt. The first thing to come to mind was that you were sleepwalking, an act that you haven’t taken part of since your mother died. But usually, you didn’t wake up in the middle of it, and you never… not once… found yourself wandering through what you perceived as Beacon Hills Preserve. Instinctively, arms wrapped around your body, shielding you from the sudden cool air that wafted between the trees and over the dampened ground. With a shiver, you proceeded forward, not sure which direction you even came from, until you began to feel tears glass over your eyes. You weren’t sad, but you could sense the sadness in the air, the heartbreak, the betrayal. It hung from you as if you were on the receiving end of something very, very bad. The need to scream in pain gathered on the tip of your tongue, but was hastily interrupted, as if whatever line you were joined to has been cut. You suddenly jumped, nearly missing the mumbled words of two nearby travellers if it hadn’t been for the sudden beam of light pausing on your form, a flashlight held over your direction, belonging to a confused pair of faces.

You blinked, quick to reach up and wipe at the moisture that gathered under your lash line until they got closer, and you easily recognised the boys when they were finally close enough to see.

“Y/N?” One of them said in disbelief, his inhaler clasped tightly between his fingers as knuckles began to shine white from the tension. Scott McCall. He was always the sweet, shy boy growing up, yet you weren’t surprised to see that he had been dragged into yet another mischievous adventure by his overly energetic best friend, and your neighbour, Stiles Stilinski.

You looked to him next, his widened honey eyes glowing as the flashlight sat just under his face. His head was tilted, confusion etching at every facial feature in much the same way as Scott. And you were sure, that if you were looking at yourself, you too were perplexed by what the two boys were doing in the middle of the woods, in the middle of the night.

Stiles blinked excessively, “What – what are you doing out here? Are you – god, you must be freezing.” His loudened voice hissed, not even stopping to think as he shed his hooded jacket, the material draping over your much smaller frame. It was instant warmth, and you didn’t realise how cold you must have been until you were encased with heat. A gentle sigh left your lips and you cuddled into the softened material, a quiet ‘thank you’ directed toward him.

You shuffled on your exposed feet, reality catching back up to you as you peered around what you could see, the rays of moonlight only showcasing certain parts of the forest. You were scared about what led you here, but more so curious about what the two peculiar boys across from you had planned.

“Wait, why are you guys out here?” You started, eyes squinting as your gaze flickered between them both. Your brow raised as you refocused on the light clutched in Stiles’ hand, “Are you looking for something?”

“No-“ Stiles began, his voice immediately overtaken by a very rushed, and nervous Scott.

“-We’re looking for a dead body.”

You thought you heard Stiles mutter a curse under his breath, embarrassment momentarily flashing across his eyes until his energy got the better of him, and he was suddenly bouncing back on his feet. “Yes, okay, we’re looking for a dead body… well, half a dead body.” His shoulders lifted into a shrug, Scott already shaking his head, and you could have sworn you felt his anxiety drift toward you.

“Okay… didn’t realise you two were into necrophilism. I guess that’s my cue to leave.” Your hand shot up in a mock salute, pushing between the two as you moved forward, hoping that the direction they came from would lead to Stiles’ jeep, and therefore, the road home. You huddled in on yourself, also hoping that you could dodge any further questions about why you were there – questions that you yet had the answer to.

Scott reached over to whack his friend’s arm, a hushed ‘I told you so this was stupid’ spitting into the wind and all that the taller boy could do was roll his eyes. It was a silent, shared decision as they jogged back up to your retreating form, a boy standing either side of you. Oddly protective.

“Why did you say you were out here again? By yourself? Dressed like that?” Stiles questioned, the sound of Scott breathing in his inhaler taking over the left side of your hearing.

It was your turn to shrug, “I didn’t say.” But they didn’t take that as an answer, their bodies speeding up until they were in front of you once more. You all stood at the top of a mound, high enough for softened moonbeams to just reach your faces. Even in the night, you could see their sceptic risen eyebrows and disbelief clouding their eyes. It was no secret that Stiles was inquisitive, but to have Scott also peer to you in doubt, was incredibly unsettling. You sighed, exhaustion beginning to pull at you, “The truth is, I don’t know-“

More flashes of light suddenly sparkled to your left, a line of men in uniform peeking through the littered trees with canine companions hot on their hells.

“Shit.” Stiles cursed in a whisper, his hand jerking you down as yours tugged at Scott. It was more evident now that it was the collection of Beacon hills police, most likely looking for the same thing Stiles and Scott were out here for. All the pieces suddenly began to fall together. You were about to question it before his hand wrapped back around your arm, his inability to stay still now dragging you both forward. “Come on!”

He was swift, and you were shocked, your bodies bounding ahead without realizing that you were a man short. Scott leant his hand against a tree, his inhaler once again between his lips before calling, “Stiles… Y/N, wait!”

You couldn’t hear him, but that anxious feeling returned, growing stronger the further you were pulled away. It made you think of Scott, so you looked over your shoulder to see his figure getting smaller, curiosity clawing at your brain about how you knew he wasn’t there beside you. Nothing was making sense, but you didn’t have time to consider any possibilities as a large bark broke your concentration, forcing you to jump back a step as Stiles’ arm reached out in front of you.

Lights were shining in your eyes, your hands held in the air in surrender as Stiles also lifted his spare hand, his left arm not yet dropping from in front of your torso. A gruff voice spoke as the growling animal was pulled back, and you couldn’t help but drop your shoulders in relief at the familiar man now standing before you.

“This little delinquent belongs to me.” He started, Sheriff Stilinski shining his son a look of disappointment. It shifted though, only slightly, as shock was written over his face, head tilted softly to the side the moment his eyes fell on you, “And this one… I can also take account for. Surprisingly.” With a quick nod, the state trooper moved away, the dog now uninterested in you and Stiles as it followed. Sheriff clicked his tongue, “Does your Aunt know you’re – no, of course, no she wouldn’t. Did my son drag you out here? Because if he did…”

“No, sir. I was sleep walking. Stiles had nothing to do with this.” You spoke with honesty, a gentle voice that held guilt but sincerity, and he could sense the truth. He remembered when you would sleepwalk when you were younger – sometimes finding you knocking on his front door at two a.m, or even having your Aunt gather him for a quick search party whenever you rarely ventured beyond the front yard. Alike everyone, though, he thought you had grown out of it, but accepted the excuse as one of plausible nature.

He nodded in acknowledgement, but the softness fell when Stiles was back in his clear line of sight. The Sheriff grunted, “Do you listen on all my phone calls?”

“No… well, not the boring ones.” Stiles counteracted, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the light sarcasm.

The older man crossed his arms over his chest, clearly unimpressed, “Uh huh. And where’s your usual partner in crime?”

“Who? Scott? Scott’s home. Said he wanted to get a good night’s sleep for the first day back at school.” Stiles chuckled but it broke with slight nervousness. It was coming off him in waves and you wondered if he has always been this obvious. Honey eyes peered to you, a silent plea for back-up.

You spoke up, but remained tight lipped, finally stepping pass Stiles and standing beside him, “Yeah, you know, Sophomore year and everything. You two have Lacrosse tryouts, right?”

Stiles immediately perked up, his finger pointing in your direction as his head fell into a constant nod, “Yep, Lacrosse, yep. Getting ready for Lacrosse. Lacrosse tryouts. Lacrosse tryouts at school. Tomorrow. Yep.”

The Sheriff was evidently doubtful, eyebrows once again rising on his forehead, mentally asking you both if you really thought he was that stupid. With a sigh of his own, his flashlight shone over your heads, bouncing off the trees behind you, “Scott, you out there?” Alas, he was met with silence. Either Scott was better at hiding than you thought, or he bolted at the first chance he got.

Sheriff Stilinski then pushed lightly at his son’s shoulder, and indication for him to start moving, and you followed behind with no questions asked. “All right, young man, I’m taking you back to your car and we’re going to discuss a little something called Invasion of Privacy. Then you’re going to take this young lady home and you two better be asleep by the time I get back.”

You hummed as your fingers entangled, heat gathering upon your cheeks, voice falling to a whispered tone “Are you going to tell Aunt Valerie about this, Sheriff?”

You couldn’t see, but by the movement of his arms, the Sheriff had dragged his hand down his face, an internal conflict about who to do right by. He stopped walking eventually, Stiles still held strongly under his hand, as the man faced you with a fatherly glint in his eye, “If you promise me to head straight upstairs, and get some rest, then I won’t say a thing.”

Your eyes glanced up, admiring his kindness, and you smiled for the first time tonight, “I promise. Thank you.”

The ride home with Stiles was quiet. Your body was pushed up against the passenger side door, head lulled against the cooling glass as you watched darkened blurs of the woods pass you by. You embraced the silence as you hoped that he wouldn’t press any questions; head reeling already from the strange circumstances that led you to sitting in your neighbour’s car, your body cold and underdressed, feet dirty from the raw forest floor that coated them. It wasn’t hard to see how the boy was turning to look at you with all the curiosity he could muster, especially as the light from his dash radiated across his puzzled face before reflecting off your window. You saw his mouth open slightly, a pondering query dancing on his tongue, and it made you inwardly groan.

“Is this the first time that has happened since your mom?” It was innocent, and it wasn’t exactly what he wanted to ask you, but Stiles found it somewhat of an icebreaker. He loved mysteries, and right now, you were his main squeeze.

You sighed, pushing further against the glass as if you’d magically fall through with enough force, and escape the awkwardness that now pricked at your fingertips and crawled up your arms. Alas, you stayed where you were, and instead hummed in reply, “As far as I know, yes. I thought I grew out of it, but I guess not.”

He nodded and hoped that if he positioned himself just right, he’d be able to capture your eyes. He wondered if they held the same naivety as they did when you were younger – before the world fell apart at your feet, before his nine-year-old self held your hands for the first time and told you that everything will be okay. Back when losing your mothers became the bonding experience between two young children.

Stiles pursed his lips when he couldn’t find the right angle, slumping as he sat back in his seat. He clicked his tongue, “For the record, I’m glad we found you, before anything else could.”

It was as if you could taste the sincerity, a sweetened sensation that made your lips lift briefly in a soft smile. You too wondered what would have happened if Stiles and Scott weren’t searching for that body, if they simply stayed home and minded their own business. Would you still be wondering around aimlessly, would that pain you felt have increased tenfold, would the police have come across you? Better yet, would whatever killed that poor person have instead? Then it hit you.

“Stiles, where’d Scott go?” You finally spun around; eyes widened at the realisation. He was still out there, presumably, and who really knew what crept around those woods in the dead of the night.

“He’s a tough guy, I’m sure he’ll be just fine.” The boy hummed, voice becoming doubtful despite him trying to hide it. He gingerly turned to face you, absorbing your expression of dubiousness before showing a small shrug of his shoulders, “I mean, he’s Scott. Timid, asthmatic, Scott McCall. But he can carry himself… right? Tell me we didn’t leave him for dead.” You weren’t sure yourself, nervous energy filling the cabin of Stiles’ jeep. As if on cue, the boy’s phone flashed, his fingers nimble as he pulled it from his pocket and glanced quite briefly at the received message. He managed a sigh of content, the corners of his lips pulling upward, “He’s okay.”

You exhaled your pent-up worry, glad he was safe, glad that as soon as you get home you can get this night over and done with. You settled back against the window, the heat of your breath creating fogged patterns on the glass, your mind wandering elsewhere – but Stiles remained watching you.

“Are you okay, though?” Which is what he really wanted to ask, knowing that by a simple look that you weren’t, but you didn’t plan on telling him that.

You didn’t want to answer, you felt as if you shouldn’t have to. There was a time where the Stilinski boy was your rock; your mother passed, and he was there for you. His mother passed, too, not long after, and you were just as much a rock for him. But time flew fast, it was harsh, and so was the pain that was left behind as Stiles eventually moved on. You weren’t a part of his playing cards anymore, and at the time, it sucked. You couldn’t help the cold snap that intwined around your words, a barrier that quickly built itself before anything could stop it, “No offense, but I don’t think you own the privilege anymore to ask me how I am.”

Stiles receded, his shoulders sinking back into his seat, face sagging into a frown as if he were a wounded puppy. He cleared his throat, “You know, when people say no offense, they really do mean all the offense.”

Your eyes drifted close. You begged yourself not to feel guilty.

Streetlights flashed over your closed eyelids and all you wanted was to be home. Prayers were hastily answered when the jeep had stopped, and you could see the side of your house as the soft jerking motion prompted you to finally sit more upright. Stiles wanted to talk more, but before he could face your properly, your frame was already slinking out of his passenger side and rounding the front of the vehicle. He clambered as he followed you, clumsy feet close to tripping him.

“If something is wrong, you know you can tell me - “

“Thank you for the ride, thank you for the jacket.” You interrupted; the material already folded messily in your arms before you were shoving it against his chest.

It provoked his voice to shake, stuttering syllables falling from his lips until he was following you again as you retreated to your front door, “Y/N, wait – “

“Goodnight, Stiles.”

Even the blank emotion in your voice couldn’t turn this boy away. He was persistent and more so, he didn’t like knowing that he had done someone wrong. He reached for your wrist, skin still warm from the material you wore, and it was like the sorrow that sat deep in his chest was thumping into your own. The guilt increased, but you were unsure why – you got over this a long time ago, you thought, so why does the wound suddenly feel fresh again?

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat, “If you need anything, I’m just one window away.”

You were careful this time as you pulled away, his earnest tone allowing you to nod in reply, a tight-lipped smile playing between your cheeks, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Stiles Stilinski stood frozen in the pavement of your driveway as he witnessed you leaving him behind. He couldn’t move when he knew that something wasn’t right with you, an erroneous factor that reminded him of similar odd behaviours that were exhibited by you as a child. He remembered hearing your Aunt tell his parents of her worries – the sleepwalking to odd places, the lack of eye contact and phantom pains, the way you reacted so animatedly when it came to the emotions of others. He could see it all starting again.

By now, you had changed from your dirty clothes, a cloth quick to clean at the dirt on your feet. You had hoped that this eventual night was one of a strange dream, and that tomorrow would bring back normalcy. Without a second thought, you had sunk under the blankets of your bed and pulled them back up under your chin. The softness was enough to make you sigh in content and your nose nuzzled into your pillow. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow is the start of the new you. Tomorrow is when everything was going to change.

It was refreshing as you felt the slight Californian breeze rustle through your hair, the air clean as you breathed it in with a deep inhale. You woke up feeling as if last night never happened; or so, that’s what you wanted it to be as you ignored the muddy clothes in your hamper by covering it with more clothing before you headed out to School. You decided to walk – your last chance to rid the strange memories you harnessed before you took Sophomore Year by the horns – and now you found yourself nearing the doors of Beacon Hills High.

You could feel his presence before you saw him, Scott McCall pushing through the doors just ahead of you, and you couldn’t help but jog up behind the boy. You were suddenly drawn to him like a magnetised force, a silent call for your attention, a tether that connected you both together – just like the one in the Preserve. You slid in front of him as you smiled gently. Visually, he looked fine, just as you hoped as you gave him a sly check over before peering to his brown doe-like eyes looking down to you with slight shock. That’s when you lightly grasped his shoulder, and time stopped. Every person standing in that hallway was unmoving, and all you could focus on was Scott. Emotion flooded you to the point where you wanted to kneel over, your legs shaking for the merest second. You could feel your side pang with agony before it dissipated as quickly as it came. It was surreal, and suddenly everything returned to normal, your hand tightening on his shoulder. Another lapse of reality, and you wondered, what the hell was happening to you?

It was Stiles that now moved into your line of sight, his eyebrows digging deep in bewilderment. Scott reached up and placed his hand over yours, squeezing back, head tilting to the side, “Y/N, you good?”

All you could manage was a shake of your head, his question pushed aside, before your tongue darted out to lap at your drying lips, “Something happened to you last night, didn’t it?”

His eyes grew wider than before, pulling both you and Stiles to the side of the entrance and out of listening distance from the others. His voice was hushed, “A wolf bit me. It was pretty dark, but I’m sure that’s what it was.”

A bandage sat on his side, the same side you had just felt agonising pain from. Absentmindedly, your hand reached for a spot just under your ribs, dancing along the curve of your waist, like a phantom feeling. You were beginning to wonder if you were losing touch with what was real, but the deepened voice of the tall boy beside you broke away your troubling thoughts.

“Like I just said, not a chance.” Stiles interjected, his arms crossed, the perplexed look that he was giving you moments ago now gone completely, replaced by an expression of boredom and uncertainty.

Scott raised his hands, baffled that his recount wasn’t gaining any belief, “I heard a wolf howling.”

It was like watching a game of tennis, the banter bouncing back and forth, and all you could do was stand back with an amused expression and arms crossed over your chest. Stiles huffed when it reached his serve, “No, you didn’t.”

“What do you mean ‘no I didn’t?’ How do you know what I heard?”

You rolled your eyes, taking a half-step forward as your hand slightly waved to gain the attention, “What Stiles means is that California doesn’t have wolves. Not for the last sixty years, at least.”

A finger was pointed in your direction, Stiles lips curled in as he showed support for your statement with a fast-paced collection of head nodding. Scott appeared shocked, inklings of innocent ignorance sparking at his warm coloured eyes as his jaw fell slightly ajar, “Really?”

Stiles threw his hands in the air, head falling back slightly as he let sarcasm seep into his actions. His voice marginally rose, “Yes, really. There are no wolves in California.”

“Well, if you don’t believe me about the wolf…” Scott started, murmuring as he lent back against the wall, drawing you and Stiles closer. He couldn’t help the small quirk of his lips, especially when looking to his best friend, the information he held sure to rock something within him, “Then you’re definitely not going to believe me when I tell you I saw the body.”

Your jaw slacked, brows reaching high into your forehead as you stood amazed by his assertion, “You what?”

“ - Are you kidding me?!” The deepened voice rose above your own as Stiles finished off with a chuckle of disbelief, watching as Scott drew a deep sigh.

Scott’s hand ghosted over the patch on his side, the remnants of a wound still prompting him to shake with uncomfortable chills. The memories weren’t near enough to match the anticipation building behind Stiles’ eyes, but he still managed a soft chuckle, despite the lack of humour you found within it, “I wish. I’m going to have nightmares about it for a month.”

Stiles practically jumped on the spot, hands clasped together in excitement and practically urging you and Scott to take a step back. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen his eyes full of such enthusiasm, but it was nice to see some sort of positivity in this daft situation. Stiles tittered, “That’s freaking awesome. This is seriously the best thing that’s happened to this town since…” And suddenly, his words died off, his focus instantly doubling down over your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but spin around in curiosity. You weren’t surprised to see Lydia Martin; her presence spoke a thousand words, a ‘no introduction needed’ kind of girl, and you were sure that Stiles’ lack of breath was due to her beautiful appearance. Stiles gulped back, “Well, since the birth of Lydia Martin… who’s walking toward us right now.”

She strutted down the hall as if she owned it, and in all honestly, she practically did. She had her followers and her fancy boyfriend, but you knew her for who she truly was – an intelligent, kind person who often makes the wrong decisions in exchange for popularity and high status. You immediately locked eye contact with her, the girl excusing her friends as she wandered toward you, her perfectly painted lips curling into a smile of authenticity. She greeted you warmly as manicured fingers fiddled with folded paper inside her bag.

“This is my schedule. I already took initiative to see what classes we have together.” Lydia was peppy, a smirk forming proudly between her cheeks as you gladly accepted the class list and she pointed specifically at the ones highlighted in pink. There were a few, not as many as last year, but you were grateful to have somebody willing to tutor you in classes that you couldn’t get a grasp of.

“You are a life saver, Lydia Martin.” You mumbled, placing the paper in your own bag before glancing up at the redhead, just in time to see her bouncy locks fly as she pushed them over her shoulder dramatically.

She shrugged, lips pursing forward to showcase the rose shade of gloss that she chose to wear, “I know.” She raised her hand in a small wave before spinning on her heel, facing Jackson Whitmore at the end of the hallway. You had never received a god vibe from him, the egotistical boy always rubbing you to wrong way. You were about to move off yourself when you heard a voice behind you suddenly blurt out, his loud tone provoking you to hunch in on yourself.

“H-hey Lydia, how are you? You look… like you’re gonna ignore me, yep.” Stiles crumbled, his lips forming a tight line the moment he heard Scott start to laugh beside him.

Your hand reached up to tuck stray hairs behind your ear, turning your torso enough to face the two friends. You wondered if the quandaries from the past twelve hours was a one off, seeming as you rarely ever spoke to neither Scott nor Stiles, and yet, you can’t seem to be able to escape them. You breathed in, lashes dancing against your skin as your eyes rose to meet their taller height. “This has been fun and all, with the wolf talk and the dead body and all that, but I gotta get to room 28 for my first class, so - “

“English? Cool, us too, we’ll go together.” Stiles smacked a still humorous Scott between his shoulder blades, pushing him forward to follow you toward your allocated classroom.

“Of course, we will.” You spoke lightly, hardly a whisper as it sat on the end of your tongue, quiet that you could barely hear your own annoyance, yet Scott glanced across to you as if it were spoken right into his ear. You tried to ignore him from the corner of your eye before hugging your arms close to your chest, head down.

Stiles clicked his tongue, Scott’s residual chuckling beginning to get on his nerves, “You’re the cause of this, you know. Dragging me down to your nerd depths. I’m a nerd by association. I’ve been Scarlet-nerded by you.” He huffed, still hung up about Lydia Martin. It was common, you thought, for you to now be rolling your eyes at everything they did as you all walked through Beacon Hills High, their bantering becoming white noise as you cut out the voices that had been surrounding you ever since last night.

As you took your seat near the back of the classroom, you couldn’t help but throw your hands up as Stiles situated himself in front of you, Scott sitting diagonal to your right. You weren’t sure if you were being followed, or if you were oddly accepted as their friend for the day, but it was putting you slightly out of your comfort zone. Sitting back in your chair, you looked at the syllabus already on your table, prepared to inform you of expectations for the school subject for the year.

You were about to flick through its contents before Stiles spun in his chair, honey hues staring directly into your own eyes, and you could feel hopefulness sprout from him like a buddling flower in Spring. “You coming to watch the Lacrosse tryouts later?”

“And why would I do that?” You replied, head tilting to the side, confusion tugging at your facial features.

He shrugged; his smile unable to die down. You were sure that there was more to his willingness to stay by your side, but for now you took it with a grain of salt, leaning forward on your desk with a gentle yet challenging smile of your own. Stiles hummed, “Just thought it’d be cool for you to come and hang out.”

The loud squeak of a marker against a whiteboard broke your conversation, your view shifting from the boy in front of you to the teacher over his shoulder. You didn’t realise that the classroom was now practically full, and the older man cleared his throat, “As you all know, there was indeed a body found in the woods last night. I’m sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to how it happened, but I’ve been told that the police have a suspect in custody.”

Stiles looked to you immediately, shaking his head as a silent answer to your silent question – did you know about this? – before flicking it over to Scott and repeating the same action. It was news that you didn’t expect to be hearing, but a small flash of relief fell over you at the revelation that you were safe. Mr Curtis, your teacher, softly banged his fist against the wooden bench, hoping to regain the attention of his students, “Which means your undivided attention can be given to the syllabus outlining the semester on your desks. Read it now. And by read, I don’t mean skim.”

You picked up the booklet, cringing at the weight and thickness of the syllabus as you propped it up on your table. You were only a few pages in, making sure that you were indeed reading carefully as instructed by your teacher, before you heard the classroom door creak open. You were met with your principal and a student you hadn’t seen before. She was naturally, very pretty; her dark hair curled down her back and she had a wide smile that swiftly brought happiness to the room.

“Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome.” Your principal concluded, leaving the girl behind before she began to wonder through the room. She ended on the only empty seat left – the one directly beside you and you couldn’t help but offer a small greeting under your breath and warm grin as she descended into the seat. The opportunity to introduce yourself dissipated the moment Scott turned around, a pen sitting behind mildly shaking fingers as he offered it to Allison. It was a strange sentiment, you thought, especially with how he knew that the girl was running short.

You shook it off; just another strange thing to add to the list.

You wandered over to your locker, watching as Lydia already began claiming Allison as her own. She always had a way with words – the way her tone alone felt like a promise to protect. You could hear the beginning of it, with how Lydia was complimenting Allison’s attire, and the squeak of joy she sounded when the new girl explained that her mother had her toe dipped in the fashion world. It wasn’t until they both got closer that you could feel Lydia’s smile, as if it were shining through you. She lightly grasped at your arm, “You’re coming Friday, right?” She asked, eyelashes batting.

“Am I even allowed to say no if I wanted to?” You replied, voice singing as books were clutched to your chest. You looked toward Allison, a happy head nod pushed in her direction, and she returned your sentiment with utter friendliness.

Lydia, however, deadpanned you, her expression speaking all sorts of outrageousness, before her finger pointed in your direction, “That’s not even funny. You’re coming. End of story.”

Scott and Stiles stood across the hall, their bodies perched against the cool metal of the lockers as Harley, a student in your year, continued to talk to them about Lydia’s grasp on people. Stiles replied to a question she spoke, his eyes fanning over the crowd you stood with, “It’s because Lydia’s hot. Beautiful people herd together.”

Harley hummed under her breath, “So does that make Y/N part of Lydia’s crowd then?”

Stiles stopped, focusing on you more than anyone else, his head dropping to the side. He took a second to ponder, “Well she’s beautiful so, it makes sense, right? Not that I even knew she was apart of that group…” He trailed off when you happened to turn in their direction, your eyes connecting once again, and the energetic boy wasn’t shy in ushing you over to them with quick flails of his arms.

Harley looked between Stiles and the crowd one last time, bidding her goodbyes before offering you a wave as your paths passed. You eventually ducked your head down, embarrassment settling in deep when you reached Stiles. You were starting to feel the annoyance of your sudden friendship with these two. “What is it now?” You hissed, voice firm to express your frustration, but Stiles ignored your tone.

“Since when are you apart of Lydia’s crew?” He queried, head gesturing down the hall. Of course, this was about Lydia Martin and his infatuation with her.

“I’m not. We’re just friends.” You were curt, short, but met with tutting from the Stilinski boy instead. You turned to face Scott, but his head was hung. It wasn’t until you could see the way his eyes followed the conversation with Allison, that you knew he was trying to listen in. “Scott?” You asked, shaking his shoulder.

He remained hunched but his voice grew is huskiness, “Are you going to that party?”

It was impossible for him to know what you were talking about with Lydia. Not only were you priorly situated down the hall, but crowds of students were walking in between. It reminded you of earlier when he listened to you speak under your breath, and in the classroom when he had a prepared pen already sitting for Allison to take. Something was going on with Scott. Something was going on with you. And it all started last night in the Preserve.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so? It’s on Friday.” You said slowly with squinted eyes, unable to see Stiles stare at you both with as much disarray that he could muster.

Scott huffed, “We’re coming with you.”

You closed your eyes as you sat back on the bleachers, a deep breath inhaled through your nose as you basked in the warm Californian sun. It was the small break you needed from the chaos that had been shadowing you all day. You weren’t even sure why you decided to cave into Stiles’ plea to attend Lacrosse tryouts, but here you were, bag sitting by your feet and notebook balancing on your thighs. You were situated about halfway down, only a couple of rows behind where Stiles sat with amused eyes as he watched Scott get thrown into the goalie position.

“Y/N!” You heard, prompting you to spin around before you were met with the happy faces of Allison and Lydia. They waved at you, and you waved back, warmth bubbling inside your chest as you began to feel a happiness that you had been deprived of for a long time. It was nice to know that people were glad to see you.

As you turned back, a beam lighting up your face, you encountered a complacent Stiles Stilinski. He was gazing at you first, hands hung by his sides, a joyful smile sitting upon his lips. He was squinting slightly from the sun, but still didn’t look away from you, “You came.”

Your shoulders lifted in a shrug, a silhouette of a smile present, “I guess I didn’t have anything better to do.” You crooned toward him, inciting a click of his tongue before the muscle ran over his teeth. He let his head fall forward in a nod, a near-transparent flush of pink clawing at his neck and cheeks before he turned back with a chuckle to watch Scott prepare himself for what would be, a battle in itself.

You opened your notebook as you looked around, making sure that nobody was in reading distance before you drew a line down the centre of a page. One column was labelled SCOTT and the other was Y/N. The thought that something strange was happening had been digging deep into your mind since after first period, and frankly, you needed to see it on paper to truly believe something was wrong.

Under your name, you drew a simple dot point, jotting down the weirdness that you could remember; sleepwalking, strange feelings of emotion, feeling pain that isn’t there, sensing things that aren’t there. You stopped. Maybe this was a ridiculous idea. What you were writing definitely wasn’t making sense, but maybe it was just a brief mental break, that would fix itself by tomorrow. Scott, on the other hand.

You began to write once more, focusing now on the oddities that built up Scott McCall; super hearing, moody attitude -

The sound of laughter broke your focus, and you looked up just in time to see Scott get hit by the lacrosse ball. You cringed, a frown etching between your cheeks, and you silently hoped that he would get back up and try again. Coach blew his whistle again after some unnecessary snickering, and this time, Scott appeared ready. He planted his feet to the ground, knees bent and ready to steady himself. Jason Williams fired next, a quick shot that was no match for the sudden increased skill set of the practicing goalie. You were stunned. He repeatedly caught ball, after ball, after ball. It was as if he had been doing this his whole life, and it only solidified that something was up. He did not get that good, that fast. You added ‘super fast reflexes’ to his list and making sure to note down ‘asthmatic???’ with a very bold underline.

It wasn’t until Jackson Whitmore stepped up, that your stomach started to drop. You could see the cockiness just by his stance, and the way he twirled the stick between his hands as if he were preparing for a proper fight. He made you want to punch him in the face at every spare chance you got. You growled to yourself, muttering words of encouragement as they sat quietly upon bated breath, “Kick his ass, Scott. C’mon.” What you didn’t anticipate was the way Scott’s head quickly spun in your direction, a brief moment of eye contact shared between you both as if he were trying to agree. Coach Finstock threw the ball to Jackson, to which he craftily spun around and launched the ball toward Scott. It was a ruthless throw, not one for beginners, certainly. It was then that Scott showcased such occult-like precision in his catch, that Jackson was rightfully put in his place. It was a miracle, to say the least. You didn’t come to this tryout with the highest expectations but were certainly leaving completely flabbergasted.

Your view was obstructed by Stiles jumping onto the bench, his arms held high as he hollered and whooped with absolute exuberance for his best friend. He danced around and ceased all movement when he saw you, only just remembering that you were sitting behind him after he had spent the last thirty or so minutes chewing nervously on his fingernails. He briefly looked over his shoulder, watching as the other team members patted Scott on the back and expressed their amazements, set aside a fuming Jackson who quietly fled with Lydia by his side in a fit of anger. It was the perfect moment, he considered, on speaking to you. But you spoke first.

“He did better than I thought he would, if I’m being honest.” You mused, closing your notebook before Stiles could see and concealing it away in your bag.

The boy chortled, nodding in agreement before he managed to stand directly in front of you. The sun casted over his place complexion, allowing the constellations of moles and freckles to stand out even more, and you’d be lying if you didn’t find it even mildly mesmerising. They framed his face and were splattered across his cheeks, and eventually Stiles caught onto what you were doing when you weren’t answering his question, and instead, he followed your eyes as they flickered over his skin.

You paused. It had taken a mere moment for you to realise that you had been staring at Stiles Stilinski, utilising a cough to hide the embarrassment, a soft pink tone hugging generously your cheekbones. “I’m sorry, what’d you say?”

Stiles laughed, wholeheartedly, rubbing at the back of his neck. He briefly lapped at his dry lips, making sure that you were paying attention before he drew a deep breath. He tried to steady his breathing, but he looked nervous. To you, he felt nervous. And you weren’t sure how you knew that his heart was thumping at a hundred miles per hour in his chest.

“I was – uh, I was wondering… we were wondering, actually…” He turned and pointed to Scott, who was now beginning to climb the stairs up the bleachers toward you both, “What’re you doing after school?”

The Preserve was undoubtedly less intimidating during the day; not only could you see where you were going, but you weren’t as afraid of the wildlife trying to kill you. The sunlight gleaming between the trees created a gentle aura, an unexpected beauty that you never could have foretold if you weren’t seeing it with your own eyes. You drew in the atmosphere, taking a short moment to drown out the voices of the two bantering boys in front of you, to inhale deeply and sigh out in the utmost content. You never had ventured out to the woods very often – growing up, you were always told to stay away, that if you were not careful then something would scare you. That if you screamed, nobody would hear, or that the ones who could weren’t always the ones you could trust. Questions were never asked why as you could see the solemness that wrapped at their features and dripped from their words. You could feel the heaviness weighing at their shoulders, and that was more than enough to steer you clear.

But now that you’re older, the last thing you expected was for this scenery to stop time, to stand resplendent, and for the Preserve to be a place for you to find that serene clarity you craved so deeply.

A grumble broke your focus, eyes that had fluttered closed were now wide awake and staring at the two moving bodies just a little further up than you. Scott was irritated, but it was mostly the befuddlement of his situation that caused him to mentally pull his hair out and drive himself to near insanity. As you expected, he too was noticing changes, and his awareness is what prompted you to tune back into their conversation. “I don’t know what it was. I mean I felt like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball…” He started, trailing off as he showed slight exasperation with tense clenching hand gestures. He shook his head, “And that’s not the only weird thing. I mean I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. And I can smell things.”

You walked a little faster, your footsteps leaving behind muffled thudding that Scott picked up instantly. Your eyes were squinted as he turned to look at you over his shoulder, face softening as if he knew what you were about to say. He let you speak, your voice humming, “You heard me today on the field, didn’t you?”

Scott nodded before pursing his lips, “And at the lockers, too.” It was impossible. You repeated it over and over again. It was impossible then, it’s impossible now. But, what if it was possible?

Stiles held his hands up and scoffed at Scott’s statement, glancing across to his friend before he shifted slightly to the side, creating a space widen enough for you to slip in between the two boys. A chuckle of complete incredulity expelled from him, “Okay, so you can hear things now? And smell things? Like what?”

“Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket.” Scott claimed rather quickly, and a bit too confidently. It made your eyebrows raise as you watched Stiles stick his hand into the pocket of his hooded jacket.“

“I don’t have any…” He began, only to present the gum in question, the stick covered in lint and crumbs of god only knows what. Stiles was chuffed, a noise of satisfaction settling in his throat before he went to remove the remaining wrapping as if to eat it. You threw you hand out immediately, gripping his wrist.

“Don’t you dare put that in your mouth.” You said slowly, firmly, as you eyed off the gum with a cringe, eventually forcing him to place it back where he found it.

Stiles grunted as he sank his hands into his pockets, your bodies moving in unison through the forestry. He tutted and then released a loud, audible sigh, purposely done to gain attention, “So…. All this started with the bite?”

It was sudden when you felt as if you were running a marathon – your heart beating rapidly through an adrenaline rush, an anxious pull causing you to stop in your tracks for a spare second or two. Stiles promptly peered over his shoulder when he noticed you slipping back, his brow lifted in concern at your change in demeanour. But you didn’t notice him, instead, you gazed up and saw Scott, realising that he was panicking, and it was making you panic too. His hands were laced through his hair, and his head was faced down. He was a mess.

“What if it’s an infection? W-what – what if my body is flooding with adrenaline before I fall into shock? I knew I should have gone to the ER…” The boy stuttered, a look of remorse flashing over his eyes for a split second.

Stiles, who by now was a few feet in front of you both, stopped and turned around as he held his hand in the air. His interest shifted to his worrisome friend as he wore a serious expression, but something told you that serious was anything but what Stiles Stilinski was trying to convey. “I’ve actually heard of this. Hmm, it’s a specific kind of infection.”

“Are you serious?” Scott called, a mixture of desperation and exhaustion etched into his words.

Stiles sighed. He wrung his hands in front of his torso, lips curling into a deep frown as he prepared his best ‘bad news’ voice, “Yeah dude, all the symptoms add up. I think it’s called… Lycanthropy.”

His mock-sincerity made sense now; the fact that he was known as ‘mischief’ only solidifying it’s worth the more Stiles opened his mouth. You always wondered if he had just one serious bone in his whole darn body. You couldn’t help but grumble, looking at him with an annoyed glance, “Don’t be a dick, Stiles.”

But Scott was too enthralled to take note of your comment as his brown hues grew doe-wide, every ounce of attention now pouring into Stiles. “What’s that? Is it bad? It sounds bad.”

He was being impish in the way his lips gathered in a sharp grin, stretched wide between his cheeks. Stiles was having too much fun to the point where he began to nod, the commotion carrying forward, “It is, but only once a month.” You felt the anxiety drop slowly, your body no longer feeling like it was going to have an aneurysm, and you watched as Scott too lowered his shoulders. It was a breath of fresh air. Scott’s intrigue caused a cocked brow and a mouth that fell slightly ajar as he continued looking at Stiles in confusion, but his friend just chuckled.

Stiles cupped his mouth and howled excessively, mimicking an animal that only appeared in nightmares and campfire stories. You could see the realisation hit Scott, and he threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes. Stiles stood there with a cheeky smile as he laughed, “Once a month, on the night of the full moon?” The shorter boy grunted into his hands the second he covered his face, clearly fed up now with the game he was just played, but Stiles continued his last leg, “Hey! You’re the one that heard a wolf howling.”

“You’re an ass.” Scott commented, passing by him with a heavy shoulder barge.

You were quick to follow, mumbling a comment in agreement with Scott, but Stiles managed to catch your elbow in your wake. You turned to him, noticing the seriousness had returned, only this time you truly believed it’s credibility. “You going good?” He asked, you two ignoring the twitch of Scott’s ear as he listened inadvertently.

The nod of your head was swift, and you raised your shoulders, “Yeah, ‘course. Why wouldn’t I be?” The lie was one that you hoped Stiles would never catch onto. Scott was experiencing something strange, and odd, and unexplainable – but so were you, and the last thing you wanted was the same attention on whatever you were. You didn’t need the worry. You didn’t need the sympathy. And you especially, didn’t need Stiles breathing down your neck about it all.

You continued forward through the woods and took your arm with you, your face catching brief rays of the warm afternoon sun as it licked at your skin. You had to remember why you were here – an invitation to look for Scott’s missing inhaler suddenly becoming a priority that you never asked for – and more so, completing the mission with the two boys that were curiously stuck to your side like superglue. Not to mention, the three of you were back at the scene of where everything began to change. It was oddly poetic, and scaringly coincidental.

You sped up your steps absentmindedly, a soft jog leading you to Scott as you made sure to stick by his side, particularly as his tone of voice was plummeting into despair, “There could be something seriously wrong with me. What’s wrong with me?” He asked you when he looked at your saddened eyes, words of encouragement about to set a cheerier tone, if it wasn’t for an additional comment made by Stiles to interrupt the mood.

“Oh, I know! You’re a werewolf!” He hollered, earning himself two irritated looks in return. He straightaway held up his hands, a defensive gesture as his snicker began to die down, “Okay, obviously I’m kidding. But if you see me in shop class melting down all the silver I can find, it’s because Friday’s a full moon.”

It was only a few feet further that Scott stopped, his head jerking around as he turned on the spot. “I swear this was it.” He trailed, continuing his slow spin as his eyes affixed to the ground. He was beginning to grow frantic, “The body was here! The deer came running, I-I dropped my inhaler…”

You also peered down, hoping that an extra pair of eyes was enough to find his medical device quicker and prevent any further panic. It only took a step and a half forward before you froze. You no longer heard the gentle breeze of the wind flow between the trees, nor Scott and Stiles’ conversation. Their own bodies were stuck in ceased time, and you felt the need to kneel to the decaying forest floor. Slowly, you brought out your hand, fingers dancing with the most fragile movements over a particular spot, daring you to retract. But you couldn’t. Instead, you pressed your hand flat against the ground. It was like an electrical current run up your arm, alas, it was cold and it seeped into your chest and settled in your heart, causing it to wretch and tug and squeeze until you could no longer breathe. If you were to die, this is what you expected death to feel like. You gasped loudly, an abrupt action that seemed to pull you back into the reality you were accustomed to.

Large hands were already on your shoulders as you looked up, seeing a familiar body crouched in front of you, the sky-blue colour of his eyes boring into your own with worry. You didn’t even notice that you began to cry until the warm tears rolled down your cheeks, and you instantly reached up to wipe them away. You spoke quietly, “Derek?”

“What the hell just happened?” He asked, helping you stand as Stiles and Scott stood back with stunned expressions. You weren’t sure where he came from, or how long you were out, but the intimidation from the man was enough to shock the two boys into complete silence. You were embarrassed, dropping your head and shaking it question as your face grew red. Embarrassed for the blackouts, and embarrassed that you didn’t know why. He didn’t press any further, a hand slipping to your bicep before offering a comforting squeeze. The softness you experienced didn’t last long as he looked at the other two, the toughness he wore well now returning, “Are you two going to tell me yet why you’re here? This is private property.”

Scott couldn’t speak; blabbering sounds slipping from his lips whenever he tried to form words. Instead, Stiles cut in, “Sorry, we didn’t know.”Derek growled, a sound that came across more animalistic than you would’ve thought. He left your side to wonder further toward Scott, head tilting as he waited to see what the younger boy had to say. Derek looked interested as he gazed over Scott’s composure, and you wished you had the power to read minds, so you knew just what ran through his head. Scott’s shoulders slumped further than before at Derek’s closer presence, defeat fighting at his facial features and dragging down his body, “We were just looking for something – you know, forget it. Sorry to bother you.”

He went to turn away, but his new reflexes kicked in, perfectly timed to catch the missing inhaler that led you out here in the first place. Scott rolled it between his fingers, checking for any damage, but as he looked up, Derek was already walking in the opposite direction. Your eyes followed every movement, offering him a kind smile as he went to step past you. Derek had always shown you his gentle nature, even as a rebellious teen, he managed to keep a level head when it came to you. He happily returned the smile before ducking to whisper in your ear, “Be careful.”

To which, he continued walking, until he was simply a speak in the distance. You turned to Scott and Stiles, the boys both relieved and still recovering from shock. Scott cleared his throat, checking the time on his wristwatch before groaning loudly, “Come on, I have to get to work.”

Stiles still stood there with an ajar jaw, exasperation intertwining with his voice, “Dude, that was freaking Derek Hale. You remember, right? He’s only a few years older than us.”

Scott appeared as if he wasn’t paying attention, his head shaking, “Remember what?”

“His family? They all burned to death in a fire, like, ten years ago.” His arms were flailing, over-exaggerated motions that somehow enhanced his communication. He looked stunned that Scott didn’t have a clue, which is what drew him to you, your head still facing the direction of which Derek left. “And what about you, Y/N? Since when are you best friends with the town bad boy?”

You were stoic, facing him with a neutral expression. Exhaustion had taken control and seeing Derek only reminded you of the past, which you would rather not remember. You sighed slowly, “We grew up together before my mom died. Before you.”

You didn’t intend for the timbre of your words to sound tough, but he was taken aback, his mouth closing and forming a thin line. He knew what you were referring to and he hated the way it affected you so much. He swallowed back a lump that gathered in his throat, then he cleared it, ignoring how Scott was looking between you both with absolute perplexity. He always knew that you both grew a part, but he never asked why, or how. It wasn’t his place, he felt.

Stiles licked at his lips, his bubbly energy seeming to dissipate before he threw his hand in the direction of his jeep, “Okay. Guess we should get you to work, buddy.” It was a silent reply, but you all moved quietly together, only a few words spoken here and there until you finally left the premises of Beacon Hills Preserve.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski x yn #teen wolf x yn #dylan o'brien x yn #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski imagine #dylan o'brien fic #dylan o'brien imagine #epmpatheia

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sarcasm-and-stiles · 6 months

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Stiles: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE

Y/N: sarcastic brunettes

Stiles, desperately, as Y/N bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE

Y/N: Oh! B positive.

Stiles: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE

Y/N:

#fanfiction #sarcasm and stiles #incorrect quotes #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles x reader #incorrect teen wolf quotes #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf #incoorect quotes #x reader #x yn

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renjunniex · 8 months

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Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Party Guessed

Prompt: Scott is hurt, Jackson isn't easy to stop, Lydia's birthday is coming up. And to top it all off, the full moon is tonight.

a/n: I read through this once and edited it so I hope I got all the mistakes

__________________________________

It took a while but Isaac had finally calmed you down, Erica had left and even though Stiles wanted to stay because he was worried about you, Isaac had convinced him that he would take care of you.

"Are you sure?"

By now you had yourself tucked into Isaac as Stiles talked to you. You nodded wiping your tears away, "Yeah, Stiles, I'm fine. You should go home and rest. I need to find Scott and then I will too." He hesitated again before slowly nodding, you didn't see it but Isaac and Stiles had shared a knowing glance like some kind of exchange that just said 'make sure she's safe'.

Stiles had finally left and it was just you two. You guys sat in silence and he just caressed your hair. Even though no words were being exchanged between you, it wasn't awkward. It was comfortable. Even with all the dried tears on your face and the sniffles, it felt right to be there with him.

"How you doing, baby?"

You were startled by the nickname, you had heard him call you that while you were whaling but you hadn't thought he would keep calling you that. "What happened to 'your favorite girl'?" Your voice was so hoarse and it hurt to talk but you couldn't help but joke.

He chuckled at your question, "You can still be my favorite girl and be called baby."

You giggled, "I know, just teasing."

He smiled softly at you, you were still in his arms curled together on the floor. His hand was on your cheek, his thumb brushing your cheekbone, "Nice to see you back to yourself, if you're ready we can walk to the station, Derek will probably take Scott there after." You tilted your head up, nodding lightly, "Yeah, I'm ready."

Sure enough when Isaac and you reached the Hale pack hide out both Derek and Scott were there.

"Scott! Are you okay?" You crashed into the boy's back, who let out a gasp from the impact. He turned around and his eyes widened, "Have you been crying, what's wrong?"

"She was worried about you," Isaac had caught up with you, standing behind you two. "But I'm okay now, you're okay so everything is good," you hugged the boy once more. When you pulled away, you noticed Derek staring off into space, "You guys were having a serious moment, weren't you?" Scott tilted his as if he wanted to say no but in reality it was a yes.

"We can't save Jackson." Your head snapped to Isaac and then back to Scott, "I'm sorry what?"

"We can't seem to kill him either," Derek mumbled. "I've seen a lot of things Scott. I've never seen anything like this. Every full moon is just gonna make him stronger."

"Then how do we stop him?"

The Alpha shrugged, "I don't know."

"Maybe you should just let the Argents handle it then," you chimed in sitting on a chair.

"I'm the one who turned him, it's my fault."

"Yeah but you didn't turn him into this," Scott argued, "This happened because of something in his past, right?"

"That's a legend in a book. It's not that simple." You crossed your arms in annoyance, "What do you mean?"

"What are you not telling us," Scott asked at the same time as you.

"Why do you think I'm always keeping something from you?"

"Because you always ARE keeping something from us!" The both of your voices had resonated, it had even startled Isaac. "Well, maybe I do it to protect you."

"Doesn't being part of your pack mean no more secrets," Scott asked quietly.

"Go home, Scott. Take (Y/N) too. Sleep. Heal. Make sure your friends are safe. Cause the full moon is coming and with the way things are going, I got a feeling it's gonna be a rough one."

It was officially spring break and that meant Lydia's birthday was almost here. Much to your surprise, there was a box on your porch from the red haired girl. She had sent you a dress to wear to her party tonight. You thought it was sweet considering you two weren't really friends. You were planning on going to her party so the gesture made some sense, unfortunately, you would have to leave early due to the full moon.

Derek had asked you to find something for the Betas to get through their first full moon, he had mentioned a spell and while you couldn't find anything like that you were able to find a type of potion to deprive them of their senses and calm their minds.

This morning you had decided you should probably pay the newly formed pack a visit, especially since you needed to let Derek know what you found and your plan. Which is why as soon as you got up and got dress you were on your way to the abandoned station.

You walked down just in time to here the pack talking once more, you did always seem to do that. "It's a spiral. Reminds us that we can all rise to one or fall to another. Betas can become Alphas, but Alphas can also fall to Betas or even Omegas," Derek explained.

"Like Scott?" Isaac stood looking at Derek.

"Scott's with us."

"Really? Then where is he now?" Derek looked at the Beta, "He's looking for Jackson. Don't worry, he's not gonna have it easy tonight either. None of us will. There's a price you pay for this kind of power." Derek picked up the chains, which you had recognized to be the same ones you had seen before, "You get the ability to heal. But tonight you're gonna want to kill anything you can find."

You had walked further into the room as Erica joked, "Good thing I had my period last week, then?"

You saw Derek pull out another chain, this one had a large circle and spikes on it, "Well this one's for you." You cleared your throat to let your presence be known and the whole pack turned towards you. Derek had nodded at you, like a peace offering on some kind, "Did you find it?"

You pointed at him, "The spell, no. But I did find this potion type thing that's able to deprive someone of their senses for purposes like this.

Derek looked relieved, "Thank you, do you have it?" You shook your head, "No, it takes a little bit of time to prepare and I just found it the other day. Deaton is helping me though to make sure it's perfect, should be ready tonight."

"Okay, thank you, bring Scott tonight, I might need some help." You hissed slightly, "Oh, yeah that might be a problem."

"What do you mean?"

You sat on a crate nearby as you began to explain, "Well you see, Lydia's birthday is tonight and Allison and Stiles are making us go. So Scott's gonna probably be busy with that and the whole finding Jackson thing." Derek had given you a deadpanned look, unimpressed by your answer. You raised your hands in defense, "Hey, don't look at me like that, they're making me. Lydia's even pressuring me," you leaned forward like you were gossiping to a group of best friends, "She sent me a dress and it was on my front porch this morning. I mean now I have to go, right?"

You scanned the room and almost everybody in the room was amused by your words, except for of course Derek. You sighed, "Don't worry, I'll be here to drop off the potion stuff tonight, I'm not gonna stay there for very long." Derek finally excepting defeat and just nodded walking away.

Erica and Boyd starting to converse from across the room and Isaac made his way to you slowly. You stood quickly, trying to play it off as best as you could. He made you nervous, especially now that you could let your guard down around him.

"You're going to a party?" You nodded slowly, confused since you had just finished talking about it, but when you looked up into his eyes, you saw it.

Jealousy.

"And Stiles and Scott are going too, right?" You nodded once more this time slightly more amused. "Yes, they are even if they weren't going you don't need to worry, I'm not gonna go around dancing with guys." His eyes widened as he realized he had been caught. You grabbed his hands softly pulling him a little closer and whispered, "When you get this whole full moon thing down, there will be nothing stopping you from being my plus one to every party."

Your words had gotten him flustered, you could see it in his eyes and in the way his cheeks glowed a little redder. It was like the old days, with the soft shy Isaac you knew before, "Walk me out?" He nodded his eyes just focused on you like a trance.

You had gotten ready for Lydia's party, of course wearing the dress she had given you, and you were at the clinic before you met up with Scott and Stiles.

"So, you added a little bit of rosemary to the water and then what," you asked watching as Deaton crushed the rosemary and threw it in the bowl. "Evening primrose, it's native to America and the oil extracted has been know to be quite anti-inflammatory. When combine with a Nymph's magical energy it was discovered to be able to affect supernatural species however they choose depending on the concoction," he laid whole petals into the water.

He turned and opening a cabinet, pulling out a Bunsen burner and rigging the small bowl above it. He looked at you and pointed to the bowl, "Rosemary is known to heighten concentration and memory, it will allow them to remember their human side more. Normally you would want to let the flowers ferment in the water for a week to allow the water to naturally be flavored."

You looked at him as he turned on the flame, then water instantly starting to steam, "But since we don't have time for that, heating the water will just have to do, it won't be as effective but with Derek and you there I'm sure it'll do the job." He gave you a smile before sliding your book over to you.

"You mean with Derek there, I'm still useless in a fight," you muttered, you felt a hand on your shoulder and you saw Deaton open the book. "Not anymore, I'm going to help you learn a basic offensive spell that uses a similar technique to your barriers. Since you've become more familiar with that and your natural talent, it should pretty easy for you to catch on." Your hand gripped the table, finally, you wouldn't be useless. You could actually hold your own, protect your friends.

"Okay, what do I do?"

He guided you away from the table and into the open space, he stood next to you. "For the most basic offensive technique you keep your hands here," he showed you, his elbows bent and his palms facing out, "You then will push out like your pushing someone away from you."

You copied the movement that you were very well acquainted with, considering you were constantly pushing Stiles around. "This doesn't seem that hard," you commented.

"The movement no, the build-up and timing will be."

You gave the man a confused glance, "What do you mean?"

"You essentially have to build up, in simple terms, your magic power to use this. What you're doing is using the amount of power you allow to either push an opponent back or even strike them. If you don't put enough magic pressure into, you could very well die to an enemy."

Your lips pursed, "Ah, there's the catch, it's never gonna be easy is it?" He chuckled, "No, unfortunately for you, your powers are all about balance. It's all tedious strategy and technique. Now try for real, let your power run through your veins and into your palms," he gestured into the open area.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to feel every ounce of the power you spent so long keeping down. It felt like a weight had been lifted and you felts tingles in your hands. You took the stance and pushed with as much force... nothing.

You tried again.

Nothing.

"Why can't I get it," you groaned.

"Relax, you have time. When you build a barrier what do you do?" You huffed at his question, crossing your arms, "Well, I imagine the energy flowing around whatever it is, that seems to work best." He nodded and pointing, "You see, just as I had said to Stiles, the imagination is a wonderous thing, do that and try again."

Shaking your limbs out to loosen up, you took another breath. A few nervous hops later and you brought yourself into the stance once more. You went through the motions, this time even with your eyes opened, you imagine the same iridescent glow you're used to. You pushed it out and this time...

You felt a blast whish passed you, blowing your hair. Everything on the shelves rumbled and shook, clattering around. "Yes! I did it!"

"And just in time too, the water is ready. All we need is just a spark of your power and it'll be good to go." He had bottled the waters into small vials and raised them up to you. Maybe it was the happiness of everything but without even thinking you raised your hand and instantly the vials shined your usual iridescence. When you realized what you did, your eyes widened, "It seems you're becoming more comfortable with who you are," Deaton smiled, "Now, I believe you have a party to go to."

"Hey! Allison! Wait up!"

The dark haired girl turned around to see you running, well trying to at least, to her. You were in heels and while you didn't have problems with walking, anything faster was immediately not as easy. "Damn it! Why did she send me a dress," you complained adjusting the fabric, "Normally I wouldn't say anything but tonight is not the night for me to be wearing something even slightly inconvenient."

She laughed at you giving you her arm, which you gratefully took, "You're still helping Derek tonight?" You nodded patting your little purse which held the vials, "Yep, sadly Derek created a problem that he needs others to help fix." Allison nodded along, "Yeah it feels like this whole semester has been about Derek and his pack."

You scoffed, "Tell me about it. We also never get to hang out anymore either so it makes it that much more impossible to not focus on the Derek problem." Allison smiled at you, you two really hadn't been that close recently. When she first came to Beacon Hills, you had easily befriended her (mainly for Scott you will admit) and even though she had hung out with Lydia and Jackson, it never deterred you from the girl. She was truly your closest girl friend if you were being frank.

"Well I'm glad you're here, I've missed being able to hang out," she said tugging you further up the driveway. You reached Lydia's front door where she had greeted you both with a smile, a smile that made you slightly uneasy. You chalked it up to the fact that you just weren't close with the girl and went back to scanning the room for Jackson, and your best friends.

"I'm gonna do a walk of the house, see if he's wandering about," Allison said pointed in the distance. She started walking off when you nodded, "I'm gonna look for the boys, be careful."

"You too."

She was now gone and you once more let your eyes wander the backyard, this time you had actually seen the two boys you were looking for. They had just made they're way outside when you reached them, "Hey."

They acknowledged you, "Have you seen Allison?" You nodded at Scott, "Yeah, we came in together." Scott went to ask you another question but he was quickly shut down by the clicking of heels, you turned to see Allison walking back up to you, "Uh, Jackson's not here."

"Yeah, no one's here," Stiles observed the backyard and he was right, it was eerily quiet. "Maybe it's just early," Scott suggested.

"Or maybe nobody's coming because Lydia's turned into the town wack job," Stiles expressed. You kissed your teeth and gestured to the boy in agreement, your eyebrows raised. "Well, we have to do something, because we've completely ignored her for the past two weeks," Allison said.

"She's completely ignored Stiles for the past ten years," Scott argued and shrugged. Stiles tried to defend himself, "I prefer to think of it as me not having been on her radar." You rolled your eyes, "Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night."

Scott made an unconvinced look, "We don't owe her a party."

"What about the chance to get back to normal?" The question shocked Scott, "Normal?"

"She wouldn't be the town wack job if it wasn't for us," Allison countered. You held up your hand, "Now hold on. First, just want to clarify, not against throwing her a party, it's her birthday. But it's not our fault she's gone coocoo for Coco Puffs, alright? That was all on Peter. Peter is the reason any of us are even in this mess to begin with, so she can blame him like the rest of us."

There was a silence after you made your point and you broke it once more, "Now that I've made my point let's throw her a good party," you said offering Allison your support.

"I guess I could use my co-captain status to get the lacrosse team here," Scott had relented. Stiles nodded as well, "Yeah, I also know some people who can get this thing going. Like really going." He dug into his pocket for his phone and Allison tilted her head, "Who?"

"I met them the other night. Let's just say they know how to party."

You chuckled catching on to who he was referring to, "Well then I'm sure this party is going to be in good hands. Chop, chop, people, let's go."

Soon enough Stiles' and Scott's called guests had made it and now the party was much more lively, you were pretty sure you could slip out now without Lydia noticing. You were standing with Stiles and Scott, watching as Allison stood across the pool with Lydia.

"Are you gonna apologize to Allison or what," Stiles asked. Scott's head snapped up to look at the boy, "Why should I apologize?"

"Because you're the guy. It's what we do," Stiles pointed out. You snorted at his answer and it caught both your best friend's attentions, "More like, you've made her feel ignored for the past couple of weeks."

"But I didn't do anything," Scott said cluelessly, you shook your head with a slight roll of your eyes as Stiles continues, "Well then you should definitely apologize. See, anytime a guy thinks he hasn't done anything wrong it means he's definitely done something wrong." You nodded this time, "Now, that, is true."

Scott grumbled, "I'm not apologizing." You nudged the boy slightly, "Is that the full moon talking, buddy." Scott looked at you and agreed, "Probably."

"Why do you guys care, anyway."

"Because, Scott, something's gotta go right here," Stiles emphasized, "I mean, we're getting our asses royally kicked, if you haven't noticed. People are dying. I got my dad fired. You're gonna be held back in school. This one is in love with a nut job," he gestured, "And so am I. If on top of all that, I gotta watch you lose Allison to a stalker like Matt, I'm gonna stab myself in the face."

"Hey, I'm not in love with Isaac," you exclaimed. Stiles scoffed, "Yeah, okay sure, I never said Isaac, Mrs. Denial." You went to argue again but was cut off by Scott standing, "You know what, you won't need to stab yourself in the face because I'm gonna do it for y-."

"Don't stab yourself in the face."

Both you and Stiles paused, looking at the Omega, "Why not?" Scott didn't look at Stiles, "Because Jackson's here." You three looked across the pool and there he was just staring at you guys. You blew out a stream of stressed air, "Alright, that's my cue to leave. You guys got this?" Both nodded wordlessly, keeping their eyes on Jackson.

Leaving the party was pretty easy actually, you got out like the Flash and now you had to deal with your anxiety of being in abandoned train car with three crazed out Betas. You had rushed into the car to see Erica and Boyd chained up in the back huffing from rage and Isaac and Derek in the front.

"Okay, so I see I might have been a little late," you said awkwardly.

Derek gave a pointed look, "Yeah, no kidding." Isaac however looked much more relaxed than before, still you could see he was definitely struggling. That's when you heard the two Betas in the back to cry and scream. The noise made you wince as you crouched down next to Derek and in front of Isaac.

"How do you not feel this," Isaac gritted his teeth.

"I feel every second of it," Derek had basically snarled. That didn't stop Isaac from shooting back, "Then how do you control it?"

"Find an anchor. Something meaningful. Bind yourself to it to keep the human side in control," Derek instructed tightening the chains, he jutted his chin out to other set on Isaac's other side and you got the message. You took the other chain and began to tighten it as best as you could.

"What is it for you?"

Derek took a pause before answering the Beta, "Anger. But it doesn't have to be that for everybody."

"You mean Scott?" You nodded slowly and whispered gently, "Scott's is Allison, even just the thought of her is able to calm him down." Derek indicated that you were right, "Alright, that should do it," he declared.

You opened your little shoulder clutch and grabbed the three vials, "Here, if you can get these two to take it now, it should help calm them down." You handed him two bottle and he nodded starting to get up but then he was interrupted by a loud break. Isaac had broken the seat holding his chain, he gave you both a knowing look.

"Go, get out of here," Derek urged you and before you panicked even more you opened the third vial you still had, "Take care of those two, I'll be okay." He didn't even respond as he was already moving to the back. You looked at Isaac who had sweat dripping from his forehead, "You need to go, it's not safe." You shook your head sitting on the chair, "Do you trust me?"

Isaac didn't even hesitate before agreeing, "Okay then I need you to drink this, okay?" He nodded and tilted his head back slightly and you poured it into his mouth, resting your hand in his hair to support his head.

"It might take a moment but it should kick in soon," you didn't get to see his reply because Derek had rushed towards you, grabbing your forearm and dragging you out of the train car. You could hear all their screams as Derek left a voicemail for Scott, "Hey Scott, could you call me back, I think I'm gonna need some help." Cue the violent and guttural growls and screams from Derek's pack.

"I thought you said it would help them?"

"It will but it's gonna take some time for it to kick in, it wasn't that strong since I couldn't properly prepare it."

Derek nodded, "Definitely gonna need some help." He unleashed his claws and walked inside the car. You followed closely and quietly behind, Derek had side stepped to stay out of Isaac's slash. You stayed in front, out of the away but also because your body ran cold, the sight of a blood thirsty Isaac terrified you.

Erica and Boyd had broken free and started advancing towards Derek. You had gotten distracted and hadn't even realized that Isaac also broke free until you heard the crunch of metal and the smash of glass. You lifted your hands up protecting your face from the flying shards, "Isaac!" He had already jumped out and you couldn't afford to take care of him yourself, not when Boyd and Erica were currently slashing at Derek, who was on the ground.

You had a clear shot to hit at least Boyd, maybe if you could get him off Derek, the Alpha would be able to fight off Erica himself. You focused your energy trying to make sure your blast was gonna be power and then when you were ready you pushed it out, watching as the glowing blast knocked Boyd off and made him forget about Derek. Only then did you realize that meant Boyd was now on you.

Derek had done exactly like you had thought and started to fight off Erica. You on the other hand were currently using small blasts to at least keep Boyd back. "Boyd, listen to me, I don't want to hurt you. Please, just calm down!" The Beta didn't listen, he snarled before raising his hand high to bring it down for a big slash. When he made a dash for you, you were prepared to feel something since you had no time to push him back.

But you never did.

Instead you heard another crash and felt someone shove passed you, you opened your eyes to see none other than Isaac holding Boyd down against the seat. He acknowledged Derek with a nod, letting him know he was in control. Things calm down once Derek had also knocked Boyd out and locked him and Erica back against the pole.

Isaac calmly sat in his old seat just staring forward, his eyes glowing. You sat next to the boy while Derek began to rechain him. "I think you'll be okay now," Derek started, "Looks like you found an anchor." You noticed in the corner of your eyes him direct his gaze at you but you paid no mind to it, only keeping your focus on the boy in chains.

"My father."

Your eyes widened. You didn't know what you were expecting as his answer but it certainly wasn't that. You saw the same confusion on Derek's face, "You father locked you in a freezer in the basement to punish you." He had said it as a statement but it sounded more like a question.

"He didn't use to."

Isaac set his hand down in his lap and Derek jangled the chains to confirm its security. "Go, take care of them, I got this," you said softly to the dark haired werewolf. He silently looked at you before walking away. You hesitated for just a moment and then you lightly rest your hand on top of Isaac's. "I'm glad you found an anchor, although I wasn't expecting it to be your dad." His head slowly rotating to you, "It's not."

You eyebrows scrunched and you tilted your head, "But you just said-."

"I lied."

Nodding slowly, you adjusted your position, sitting more comfortably, "Okay... then what's your anchor?"

"You."

"Me," you whispered, "but how-." He cut you off once more, "When I ran out, I heard your heartbeat pick up. You sounded so scared and I came back to myself instantly. I had to come back, to protect you, to make sure you were safe. Nothing else mattered." Your whole body dropped out of awe, you're sure you looked lovestruck by now. How do you not after hearing that?

"If it weren't for the audience back there and outside, I would totally kiss you right now."

The boy chuckled lightly, "Guess I have to wait until morning then."

_____________________________________

a/n: hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think!!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant @breadbrobin @traumverloren-anderswelt @fandom-princess-forevermore @vanessa-boo @mxltifxnd0m

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inlovewhithafairytale · 3 months

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Masterlist

Teen Wolf

She looked at me as if there was something worth seeing in me(Theo R.)

I think we lost her(Theo R.)

Because I love you you little piece of shit(Theo R.)

I think we lost her II(Theo Raeken)

Morning Love(smut(Theo R.))

Friends Dont look at friends that way(Malia H.)

You belong with me(Stiles S.)

You're beautiful just the way you are(Stiles S.)

First time you ever listen to me( Sister reader)

You got the devil on your team(Void Stiles)

Maze Runner

He was only 17(Newt)

Marvel

Keep your head up soldier(The Winter Soldier)

TVD/TO

Elijah Mikelson x Reader Headcannon

Yandere Klaus Mikelson x Reader Headcannon

Multifandom

I don't want to forget

A letter from Y/n to reader

SUPERNATURAL

POV series wich include a mini stories of Winchester little sister reader.

Why and how this is going to go...

⛥⛧Pilot-01x01

part 1

part 2

⛥⛧Flashback series

" flash news. you have a little sister"

"promise you wont leave"

POV: The Winchesters have a little sister 1 2 3

Supernatural masterlist.

Requests are open for:

Stranger Things

Narnia

Lort

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fanficanatic-tw · 5 months

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Chapter 35 - 'Water under the Bridge', available now (x)

Book summary: Her return defied the very basic laws of nature. It was a catalyst to the supernatural world changing before their very eyes. There were no longer strict rules the supernatural had to abide by. It was all changing, fast and in an unpredictable manner. Time being rewritten. For Kayla, how will she adjust to living again? Especially with the other side trying to drag her back.

[finally updated my 4th book of the series after a year 🥺 I'm so happy]

Taglist: @darknightfrombeyond @arrthurpendragon @foxesandmagic @ocappreciation @eddysocs

#Kayla hale #ocapp #ocappreciation #stilesxoc #stiles/oc #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles x yn #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinski fanfiction #chapter update #rising from the ashes #I finally did it #I'm so #happy #I guess I've focused on the rewrite and lost my motivation for this story #but I've found it again so yayyy

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katherines-imagines · 2 years

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Stiles Stilinski Head Cannons

So, imma just go off on what I think he would be like, so hope you guys like it :)

•this boy, is quite the panicker

•he will worry NON STOP about if you will like whatever he’s planning or not, whether it’s up to dates, or movies (even though we all know he thinks Star Wars works perfectly well)

•you, Stiles, and Scott are obviously gonna be tight, cause Stiles is so gonna rant about you to Scott

•as we all know, Stiles has been in love with Lydia since FOREVER, so there will be a point where Stiles realizes he loves you and not Lydia.

•SARCASM. no offense, but if you have no sarcasm, he probably won’t be into you. Stiles has this dynamic, where he’s sarcastic. If you can’t keep up a sarcastic banter, then you don’t really got a chance.

•definitely him being jealous when boys ask you out (cause ur so hot,) but he probably won’t have the guts to say it out loud. He’ll probably end up being rude and grumpy all day till you ask him what’s wrong.

•👏CUDDLES👏ARE👏A👏MUST!! With all the Supernatural, and school, and stress, he would definitely love watching Star Wars with you, while cuddling (him being little spoon ofc)

•back to Stiles’ type, you’ve got to be challenging. Not in the way that your rude, but that you challenge him to be better. Simpler terms, your probably gonna have to be smarter than him, sarcastic, and personally, I think being funny and comforting would also score points with him.

•ngl, I can see y’all getting curly fries while listening to the police

•before, when Stiles dad didn’t know about Supernatural and didn’t trust Stiles when he asked for information and stuff, if Stiles said to trust you, Noah would trust you without a doubt

•imma be honest, I don’t think you would have known Stiles mom, but you would be on amazing terms with Noah. Y’all probably make fun of Stiles 24/7

Again, if you don’t agree with my head cannons, you don’t have to, this is just what I think. Sorry for being gone forever, and I’ll try to post more!

have an amazing day <3

#teen wolf stiles #imagines #reader insert #drabble #stiles stilinski #x reader #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #x yn #x you #stiles x you

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thefemalestorywriter · 1 year

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Stiles Stilinski Masterlist

Imagines

Oneshots

Mini-Series

Series

#stiles x reader #stiles stilinski #dylan o'brien #stiles x yn #derek x stiles #teen wolf imagine

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night-daily · 1 year

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He likes you more than sarcasm| Stiles Stilinski x f! reader

summary: It's Stiles's birthday and you don't know what present buy him so you ask for help to Scott.

warnings: none.

a/n: hii everyone, hope u like it and please let me know for any mistakes because english isn't my first language:]

Since early in the morning you have been running all the mall trying to get the best present for Stiles, it wasn't that you forget his birthday actually it was the opposite his birthday was the only thing on your mind since two weeks ago but still you haven't found anything and, to be honest, you were struggling right now so you decided that you needed help from the only one who knows Stiles a little better than you, Scott McCall.

Stiles on the other hand was worried about you, why? well, it's easy, turns out that you have been so concentrated on the present that you forgot to call to wish him happy birthday or at least a message like you always do on his birthday. You have been always the first person to call him since you two met.

You arrive at his house, knocking on the door impatiently waiting for him or someone to open but without a response, you used the key that according to the pack it was supposed to be only for emergencies but this was an emergency... well at least for you.

''Scott! Where are you? I need your help!'' you yelled as you stepped into his house as if were yours.

Scott who was sleeping on the couch, gets startled by your voice and your presence standing in front of him ''first of all, you scared the shit out of me'' he says holding a hand in his chest ''and how do you even get into my house? It was locked'' he raises a brow.

''I'm not here to talk about how you should change your lock because everyone in the pack has a key'' you just shrugged and you sit down next to him.

He just rolls his eyes at you.

''So why do you need my help anyways?''

''Okay, so as you know It's Stiles's birthday and I have no idea what to buy him this time, I actually asked him what he would like to receive and he just says and I quote you don't need to buy me something, your presence it's enough to make me happy but that can't be true, everyone knows that it's something you say just to not sound like you are a materialistic person but deep down you want to be surprised'' as you finished to say Scott can't believe it how oblivious were you, Stiles literally has confessed his feelings to you. '' I mean, what else he likes besides the sarcasm?'' you started to walk from side to side, thinking.

''Well, he likes you more than sarcasm- oh shit'' Scott's eyes widened as you froze in your place ''what did you just say?'' you were shocked, he mean it? Stiles really likes you? The same guy you fell in since you saw him sleeping in class drooling over his notebook?

''Stiles it's gonna kill me...'' Scott mumbled to himself.

Before you started to ask him so many questions, the front door of the house opens abruptly, scaring the two of you while Stiles started to walk with his phone in hand without realizing you were there.

''Dude I think something happened to yn, i have been calling her but she doesn't pick up and both of us know she is always the first one to congratulate me on my birthday no matter how early is''

''You like me?'' you asked him still in shock.

And in that very moment, Stiles dropped his phone on the floor his head moving to look at you, standing a few steps away from you. His cheeks turned red instantly and was hard not to notice.

''I'm sorry and good luck bro'' Scott patted Stiles's shoulder and run upstairs to his room.

You came closer to Stiles '' so... it is true?'' you asked him again, your voice full of hope. ''yes, I like you'' he murmured nervously avoiding your gaze, and slowly started to step backward ''I'm sorry if i made you feel uncomfortable i know you don't feel the same-'' '' but I do, i like you too, Stiles'' you cut him off as your heart started to racing.

There was a silence for a few seconds, then Stiles grabbed your wrist and this time he came closer to you, so close that your noses were touching, and finally, he kiss you, slowly and tender, a hand caressing your cheek and after a moment, you both break the kiss to breathe some air, damn air.

''By the way, happy birthday'' you chuckled.

''This is literally the best gift I have ever received'' he grins and connects your lips one more time.

#stiles stilinski #scott mccall #teen wolf #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf fanfic #stiles stilinski fanfic

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wolfmoonmusic · 1 year

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Damn I have a lot to finish

#x reader #angst #fluff #x you #x you fluff #marvel #marauders era #grishaverse #james potter x yn #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x y/n #marauders x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #kaz brekker x reader #darkling x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone s2

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 9 months

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

Sorry it was long asf but thank you so much if you do make it 🙏🙏🙏

The way this request made me fall in love with Stiles all over again, thank you so much for requesting! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

I'm so happy to know you enjoy my writing! It really means a lot to me to hear that!

Here's the link: "Burn for you"

#s3thwrit3s asks #reader insert #gay reader #male reader #male reader insert #male!reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x male reader #stiles stilinski x yn #stiles stilinski x male!reader #stiles stilinski x male reader

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obriengf · 2 years

Photo

A full moon. A bitten boy. A girl who feels. A lionhearted friend.

Beacon Hills is anything but your ordinary town; the shadows speak, they scare. They are ruthless as they creep around every bend and bicker. The shadows bare sharp teeth and large eyes that hold such vibrancy, shades that will haunt your even deepest nightmares. This town is not safe - and if history had a thing or two to say, it never was. A home for monsters and men, a signal for those that go bump in the night. Beacon Hills billeted creatures of all sorts, but, didn’t stand a chance when a group of determined and peculiar teens had anything to do about it.

And it all started with a single bite.

𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐀 ✽ Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Physical affection. Passion. Partiality. State of emotion.

Series masterlist (under the cut):

SEASON ONE

Chapter One - Wolf Moon (Part 1) • (Part 2)

Chapter Two - Second Chance at First Line (Part 1) • (Part 2)

Chapter Three - Pack Mentality (Part 1) • (Part 2)

Series edits:

#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski imagine #dylan o'brien fic #dylan o'brien imagine #teen wolf x yn #teen wolf x you #stiles stilinski x you #dylan o'brien x you #empatheia #my edit

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sarcasm-and-stiles · 6 months

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Y/N: Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night?

Stiles: It was autocorrect.

Y/N: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."?

Stiles: Yes.

#fanfiction #incorrect quotes #x reader #incorrect quote generator #sarcasm and stiles #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x reader #incorrect teen wolf quotes #teen wolf #x yn

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renjunniex · 8 months

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Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem! Reader Series

Raving

Prompt: Joining forces with Derek was difficult to say the least. Not only because he wanted to do things differently but it also meant you had to spend more time with Isaac.

a/n: heyyyy everybody! another chapter is here! super grateful for all the love you guys have been giving me seriously, thank you guys so much! ALSO YALL I DIDNT REALIZE I WAS SPELLING MR. HARRIS AS MR. HARRISON UNTIL JUST NOW. WHY DIDNT YALL TELL ME!?!? i went back and changed them so we should be good now lol

______________________________________

"Oh, what the hell is this?"

You and Stiles were sitting at the station with food for Sheriff, who was very unhappy with what he had been given. "Veggie burger," sang Stiles as he rearranged the contents around the table. He handed you yours before setting his salad in front of him.

"Stiles, I asked for a hamburger," complained Sheriff his mouth still full.

"Well, veggie is healthier. We're being healthy," Stiles argued. You nodded along as you rustled your fork through your own salad to mix the contents around equally. Sheriff sighed but went back to unpacking his food, when he uncovered the basket of carrots and celery his face took on the look of disappointment once more, "Oh, hell, why are you trying to ruin my life?"

You gave the older man a pointed look, "That's very dramatic, don't you think? We just do this because we care." You weren't lying, Melissa may have been the one that took you in permanently but the Sheriff had always been like a father to you just as Melissa had been like a mother.

"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please? And tell us what you found."

Sheriff disagreed, "No! I'm not sharing confidential police work with teenagers." That didn't stop you two from looking behind the man and at the wall. You pointed to it as Stiles called attention to the board, "Is that it on the board behind you?" He turned to look at it, "Don't look at that." Stiles continued to not listen, his eyes glued onto the wall.

"Avert your eyes. Hey!"

"I see arrows pointing at pictures," Stiles said move about in his chair.

He finally gave up when he realized that you two were not going to listen. "Okay, okay, stop! Fine. I found something." Both you and Stiles brought your attentions to him, instantly satisfied with his words.

"Mechanic and the couple who were murdered. They all had something in common."

"All three," you and Stiles asked.

"Yeah. You know what I always say. One's an incident. Two's coincidence-."

"Three's a pattern," Stiles finished for his father.

"The mechanic, the husband, and the wife- all the same age. All twenty-four."

Your eyebrows scrunched together, "Then what about Mr. Lahey?" Stiles looked over at you and agreed, "Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near twenty-four."

Sheriff had stuck his finger out, stopping your questions, "Which made me think either 'A,' Lahey's murder wasn't connected or 'B,' the ages were a coincidence, until I found this," he rolled his chair backwards a little and turned. Grabbing the file and handing it you, you opened it so both of you could expect the contents.

"Which would be 'C.' Did you know that Isaac Lahey has an older brother named Camden?" Even though the question was in general, meant for both of you, Sheriff did make the most eye contact with you. You shook your head, going back to reading the words.

"'Died in combat,'" whispered Stiles.

"But if he were alive today, take one guess as to how old he'd be."

"Twenty-four," you said.

Eating was apparently going to have to wait, since both men stood up and began to go over the board. "Man, I really just wanted to eat," you whined begrudgingly getting out of your chair. Your complainants were completely ignored as they started to plot.

"Now what if same age means same class- I mean did you think of that?" Sheriff brushed off his son's question with a slight wave, "Yeah, yeah." There was a brief moment of dead air until Sheriff confessed he hadn't thought of it.

"Well I would've. I mean- look I just got Lahey's file two hours ago." Even though the statement made sense to you, Stiles didn't accept that.

"TWO HOURS? Dad, people could be dying!"

"Yeah, I'm aware of that, thank you."

You placed a hand on Stiles' shoulders to make your presence known, "He can only keep looking at this stuff for so long, Stiles. Sometimes you need to step back to refresh your eyes."

Both guys settled down at your words, before turning towards the photos, "Same class," murmured Stiles. You all shared a look, "Do you have any old yearbooks, Sheriff," you asked.

Like on cue, they scrambled to get any old yearbooks and school files they could get their hands on. To be honest, your glad they didn't need your help on that because truth be told, you really were hungry. You only got a moment to stuff your face with food because they came rushing back soon after slamming all contents on the desk.

Stiles had found the file he was looking for, "Okay this is it, class of 2006. They all went to Beacon Hills."

"Including, Isaac's brother," stated Sheriff.

"Meaning they could've, theoretically, known each other," you said finishing your carrot before standing up once more.

"Two of them were married- so maybe they all just hung out."

Sheriff shook his head lightly, "Well, they could have had the same classes together. They could've-." You saw the man's face fall into a look of recognition. Stiles had caught it too, "What?"

"Same teacher." Mr. Harris' picture was on the page, clear as day.

"All four. Now I don't know how Mr. Lahey fits in, but this- kids, this is definitely a pattern. Alright, get me the 2006 yearbook. These names, we need faces."

"Which ones," you asked as Sheriff went to make a phone call. "Everyone in that chemistry class," he answered, "If the killer's not done killing..."

"One of them is next," Stiles said.

"Yeah."

Later that night, you had promised to meet Scott at the clinic to relay everything you just found out. He wanted you there though because Derek was planning to show up and he figured a three versus one when it came to opinions would work better in his favor.

"So, you weren't able to get tickets," you asked currently perched on the half wall in the lobby. The boy confirmed your question, "Nope, but we need to find some because Jackson seemed very hell bent on getting them."

You nodded slowly, "Meaning whoever is controlling him, desperately wants to be there." Scott agreed and then his head perked up, looking at the clinic door. You figured it was because he heard Derek so you felt no need to stand up from your position.

Scott walked over, unlocking the door letting Derek in, "What's he doing here," you heard him asked.

You looked up and felt your breath get caught in your throat, you weren't expecting Isaac to come. Guess it was only fair since Derek wasn't informed of your presence either. "I need him," the Alpha said bluntly.

"I don't trust him," Scott shot back. Mean while all you could do was stare and the Beta made eye contact with you for just a second.

"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either," you would be lying if you were to say that his voice didn't make your heart flutter. Once he finished his sentence he walked passed both the other werewolves standing close to where you were sitting on the wall.

"You know what and Derek really doesn't care."

You raised your hands as you blurted out, "Oh my god, one more person talks in third person and (Y/N) might just punch you all in your throats." You heard Isaac snort out a quiet laugh as he turned his head to look at you. His eyes gleamed like stars when they met yours.

Derek had interrupted your little moment, "Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?" You scoffed at the Alpha, "What great patience you have there, grumpy." You hopped off the wall and crossed the little group to stand next to Scott, just in time for Deaton to come out of the back room.

"That depends, your friend Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?"

"Save him," you and Scott synced.

"Kill him," Derek had said at the same time.

You and Scott both whipped around looking at the dark haired werewolf in disbelief, "Save him," Scott argued once more before looking at you. Your eyes both met and stared at each other for a moment, like a form of silent communication. You nodded at him once more before both of you turned back to Deaton and synced again, "Save him."

Deaton had a small smile on his face and nodded, gesturing for you all to follow him. Derek had silently walked passed definitely grumpy of being out numbered. Scott followed a second later, leaving you and Isaac alone for just a moment.

You turned to him quickly whispering, "Derek made you come?" He nodded in response, "And now I'm glad he did because I get to see my favorite girl." He stood next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder, keeping you from walking towards the back room door. You chuckled lightly, rolling your eyes, "You're never gonna stop with the nicknames, are you?"

You moved passed him, his arm falling back to his side and you spoke once more, your voice still lowered, "Fine but we still need to talk everything through. After this is all over." He nodded with a smile on his face following behind you and into the room with the others. He took his place in between the other two werewolves and you stood next to Deaton and helped him lay everything out. The sound of Derek's voice made you look up.

"Watch what you touch," he said with Isaac's arm in his hand. Deaton had picked up a jar reading it then showing you the label and pointing to the ingredient in the book laid out in front of you. He had become some what like a teacher to you, every chance you got you were here, learning, reading, practicing and he would guide you. Seems like he thought now was still a good time to show you some things.

Isaac had leaned down resting his arms on the table and now at eye level with you. He smirked when he saw your attention on him before asking his question to Deaton, "So, what are you, some kind of witch?"

"No, I'm a veterinarian."

Deaton's reply made you shake your head in amusement. You saw Isaac process the answer with his lips taking an "oh" shape silently, before he looked at you again. It felt like every chance he got, his eyes were stuck on you.

"Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin. Except for when (Y/N) is able to learn healing abilities, but even then, that could take time we don't have and it would really only be effective after the fact." Your head shot up, your body still leaned over from reading the pages. You glanced at everyone in the room before meeting Deaton's eyes.

"Wait, I can do that?" Deaton chuckled at your astonishment and nodded, "Well that's news to me," you said looking at your best friend.

"We're open to suggestions," Derek continued to conversation. "What about an effective offense," asked Isaac.

"Unlikely," you scoffed as Derek began speaking again, "We already tried, I nearly took its head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

You mumbled lightly, "I'm really glad I haven't had to fight this thing." The boys looked at you, a certain Alpha showing a very obvious annoyance, "What? I'm sorry, okay. Stiles isn't here to voice my thoughts like he always seems to, I can't help it."

Deaton looked at all of you, "Has it shown any weaknesses?"

Derek answered his question, "Well one- it can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No," Scott interjected as you shook your head, your posture now straight and your arms crossed. You continued for the Omega, "He's the captain of the swim team." Deaton nodded along at both inputs, "Essentially, you're trying to catch two people."

He turned grabbing something from a drawer, he show you an amulet, "A puppet... and a puppeteer." He set it on the table and continued, "One killed the husband but the other had to take care of the wife, do we know why?"

Scott piped up gaining everyone's attention, "I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murder. I think he couldn't let the same happen to someone else."

"How do you know it's not part of the rules?" Isaac's eyes were slightly glazed over as he stared at the table. When his eyes blinked and his attention was no longer stuck, he continued, "The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too."

He looked at Scott and when he did, you felt your body jolt. It was the weirdest sensation and you didn't understand why it happened. It wasn't a normal reaction so your only guess could've been it was something supernatural. You checked to see if anyone noticed and when you confirmed no one did, you made a mental note to ask Deaton about it later.

"Does that mean your father was a murderer," Scott questioned.

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was." His eyes were back in your direction only his focus was on the wall behind you; you were okay with that though, you didn't want him to see the frown you had.

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right?" Deaton's hand was held out as he hypothesized, "What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him." You nodded along adding to his words, "Like they're not only bonded as in partners but mentally." Deaton pointed to you grabbing a small jar.

"What if something that affects the Kanima also affects its master." He circled the sand like substance around the amulet on the table, "Meaning what," Isaac asked.

"Meaning we can catch them," Scott started.

"Both of them," you finished.

The next morning consisted of both you and Scott telling Stiles everything on the way to school. "There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?" Scott hopped out of Roscoe as he finished his question, helping you out as well. Stiles met you both on the sidewalk, "It's a secret show, there's only one way, and it's a secret." You adjusted your bag onto your shoulders, "Real helpful, Stiles," you joked.

"Hey!"

All three of you turned to find Matt, "You guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?"

"Just forget about it, nobody got hurt," Stiles tried to convince him. Matt gave him a confused look, "I-I had a concussion." You turned your head and laid it into Scott's shoulder, hiding your small laugh threatening to come out.

"Okay well no one got seriously hurt."

"I was in the E.R. for six hours."

"Okay, do you want to know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now." Stiles had proven his point even more by leaning over and placing his hand just inches from the concrete. Your cover of your amusement was taken from you when Scott moved forward to ask if Matt was alright.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, now. So, you didn't get any tickets last night either."

"Are they selling?"

"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online. You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's going to be there." He gave Scott a friendly fist to the shoulder before walking away.

"I don't like him," You and Stiles both said, once he was far enough.

"Hey, are you sure about this," he asked Scott. "Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job," Scott said.

You chimed in, "So, what do you think he's going to do this time?"

Stiles sighed, "Be there to make sure it happens," He shook his head before both boys turned, taking their places beside you as you walked in the school.

"Can anybody tell me where the hell Jackson is and why he missed morning practice?"

Coach was right, practice was already over and there was no sign of Jackson. Everyone shook their heads and Stiles leaned over so you and Scott could hear him better, "I thought I told you to keep an eye on him."

"STILINSKI!" You three straighten and looked at Coach, "Jackson!" Stiles shrugged, "Sorry, Coach I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him."

"Oh, and when was that?"

"The last time I saw him was definitely the time I saw him last."

"Again, Danny, tell Jackson no missing practice this close to the championships, okay," Coach was leaned over in Danny's eyesight. The boy nodded, "Sure, Coach." Coach started to back up into his office, "That goes for all of you. I should be coaching college." He started to close his door but just before he did, he looked at you, "(Y/N), I'm going to need to see you later for game plans."

You nodded, "You got it." He finally closed his door, which allowed the boys to go back to talking to Danny. "Sorry, but I only got two myself," Danny said.

"What- do you even have a date, yet?" Your head snapped to Stiles, your arm shooting out to smack him in the stomach, "Really?"

Danny's tone changed, "I'm working on it."

"Okay, okay, hear me out. You give us the tickets, and you devote your life to abstinence and just-." Before Stiles could finished both him and Scott were pulled away and you felt someone right behind you, "How do you two losers even survive?" It was Isaac, you looked behind you to see him looking between the two boys, his hands still gripping their shirts.

You scoffed and pointed to yourself, "That would be thanks to me, actually." Isaac looked at you and smirked, acknowledging your answer. Scott huffed, "What are we supposed to do? No one's even selling." He gestured to the whole locker room, where all the boys stood around, probably waiting for you to leave so they could begin changing.

Isaac's eyes were focused somewhere in the distance, you felts hands lightly place themselves on your waist guiding you closer to Scott. The tall werewolf patted Stiles on the chest, moving passed him, "Wait here, boys."

All of you gave each other looks of confusion, Scott asking, "What is he-?" But he never got to finish, thanks to the crash caused by Isaac. You guys flinched at the loudness, "Ow," you commented.

"Yup, that's excessive," Stiles added on, the sounds only getting louder as Isaac continued his actions. "That'll bruise."

"Ow," Scott repeated your first comment.

"Wow, okay." Isaac walked back over, tickets in hand, he handed you each one before turning around his hand in his pocket, "Enjoy the show."

You guys were in shock until you broke it with your words, "That was... so hot." Both boys looked at you, wide-eyed, when you saw them you just shrugged, "What? He's on our side now, I can say that."

Stiles pointed at you, "I thought you were mad at him?" Scott nodded in agreement.

You rocked your head from side to side, "I was and still kind of am, but that doesn't mean I can't find that," you circled your hand motioning to the boy walking away, "Extremely attractive." Scott and Stiles both scoffed, the spastic both pushing you slightly, "Get out of here, you dummy, let us change."

You laughed and walked out the room, only making it a few steps out the door before you heard your name once more. You turned to see the boy you were just talking about leaning against the wall, "I heard you." You smiled as cluelessly as you could and walked closer until you were inches from his figure, "Heard what, exactly?"

His arm came around your waist again, this time turning you so your back was pressed up against the wall and his body was trapping you. "You find me attractive, huh?" His eyes were on you, glancing at your lips before reaching your eyes once more, "Always did," you answered. You leaned a little closer missing his lips and bringing yours close to his ear and whispered, "See, isn't it so much more fun when you're on our side?"

You grabbed the wrist of his hand that was laying itself on your waist, removing it gently and sliding out of his grip, "I'll see you tonight, Isaac."

"Ketamine?"

"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage."

Deaton set down the syringe and bottle, "If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him enough to buy you some time." He turned picking up a jar with that same sand from the other night, "This is some of what you will use to create the barrier. This part is for you, Stiles. Only you." He placed it down and Stiles picked it up his eyebrow raised, "Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure. Can we maybe find a less pressure-filled task for me?"

"It's from the mountain ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural." He gestured to the walls, "This office is lined with ashwood, making it difficult for someone like Scott or (Y/N) to cause me any trouble."

We turned back to Stiles to see him still confused, "Okay, so then what? I just spread this around the whole building and then neither Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

"They'll be trapped," Deaton confirmed.

"Doesn't sound too hard," Scott reassured.

"Not all there is," Deaton said. You sighed and slumped your posture, "There's always something."

"Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it." He pointed to Stiles, "You have to be that spark, Stiles."

"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that."

Scott looked at Stiles worried and then you to which you rolled your eyes. Deaton gave a silent chuckle, "Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

Stiles mumbled, "Force of will." You grabbed his hand, "You got this, no sweat."

"If this is going to work Stiles, you have to believe it."

The night had finally arrived, your nerves were definitely getting to you. It also didn't help that the car ride over seemed really awkward. Stiles was oddly quiet and you could tell that Scott noticed as well.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

You and Scott shrugged lightly and you spoke, "You didn't say anything the whole way here." Stiles grabbed the bag out of the Jeep and looked at you both, "No, I'm fine. Let's grab the other bag."

Scott looked at Stiles, "We can't, remember Deaton said you have to do this alone."

"Okay, this plan is really starting to suck."

You smiled, "There's our Stiles."

"No, not here, not now."

You turned to see Scott running off, panicked you looked at Stiles who was just as bewildered as you. "What," Stiles said.

"Scott!" You called as Stiles continued on, "What am I supposed to- plan officially sucks!" He looked at you and you just shrugged. "I'm going to go look for Isaac and Erica, you got this Stiles." He waved his hands at you in frustration, "Yeah, whatever, go make out with your boyfriend." You gasped, "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Yet."

You pointed behind him, "Go play with your sand." He huffed a laugh and you turned to make your way into the building. The music could already be heard from inside but still it was quite a shock on how loud it actually was. The lights were blinding, you squinted to try and find the two Betas but to no avail they were no where to be seen in the sea of people.

Deciding that staying on the outskirts was your best course of action, you began to make your way to the side where a line of pillars were. You leaned on one of them as you scanned the area again, looking for any signs of any werewolves.

"You planning on dancing tonight?"

You jumped at the sound of Isaac's voice right in your ear. You turned and you were sure you looked like a deer in headlights considering the boy only started laughing when he saw your face. You punched his shoulder and he faked a wince, "Don't do that! Where's Erica?"

He nudged his head in the direction of the crowd behind you, "In there, thought I would come look for you while she looked for Jackson."

"Me?"

"You and Scott."

You scoffed, "You said me." He smiled making the motion to press his forehead against yours, "Okay, it was mainly for you." You laughed and moved your head away, leaning back on the pillar, "My, you're quite the flirt these days." He shrugged leaning against the pillar with you, one hand in his pocket. He looked down and crossed your pinky with his.

"You're not as mad at me as you have been, it's a little easier now."

You chuckled and nodded, "True, true."

You saw Scott come around the corner, you let go of Isaac and that caused him to look where you were looking. You dashed towards the Omega and hugged him quickly, "Where did you go?"

"Allison's here."

You looked at him, "That means her dad is here." He nodded and started making his way to Isaac, who was still leaning against the pillar watching you guys. Scott handed him the syringe, "Why me," Isaac asked. They were standing side by side while you stood just slightly off from them.

"Because I got to make sure that Argent doesn't completely ruin the plan. Okay, look, you gotta do it intravenously, which means in the vein. When you find him, you pull back on this plunger right here. The neck is probably gonna be the easiest, so you find a vein, you jam it in there, and pull back on this trigger right here. Be careful."

Scott had given him a whole lecture on the plan, Isaac chuckled, "Oh, I doubt it'll even slightly hurt him." Scott shook his head, "No, I mean you. I don't want you to get hurt." Isaac's head shot to the side in surprise. There was this moment of silence between them and that's when you felt it... another jolt. This time it was stronger.

What was going on? Why has it happened twice now?

Your thoughts were broken when hands grabbed your shoulders. You blinked and refocused on Scott, "And you be careful too, okay? Stay out of the way." You scoffed, "Okay, Mom."

"(Y/N), I'm serious."

You laughed and pushed him away, "Yes, I know, I'll be careful. Now go growl at middle aged men." He smiled at you before running off. You and Isaac were left alone once again. He seemed to still be in shock at the conversation he just had.

"I told you so."

"What?"

"I told you, we care about you guys." He turned to see your smirk wearing face. He snickered, "You always have to be right, don't you." You gave a bright smile and a quick nod, "Yep," you grabbed his hand, "Seriously, be careful."

He used the grip you already had on his hand to bring you closer, his forehead back to resting on yours, "I will but it would be nice to have some incentive." You let your eyes lock with his, "Okay, you get out of this alive and I'll forgive you completely." His face practically lit up and he tried to hide it but you saw the bright expression just before he went back to his usual resting smirk.

"Now that's what I like to hear," his head shifted upwards and you felt his lips on your forehead. He pressed them there ever so gently before letting them leave your skin. "I'll see you soon, beautiful," he made the move of leaving first but was stopped by you grabbing the front of his shirt.

"You do anything too sexual with Erica and I'll kill you, Lahey, understand?"

He smirked, "Yes, ma'am."

You went to find Stiles after you had set up the area you guys were planning to keep Jackson. You guys had caught each other at the front entrance and you were now making your way towards the room, listening to Stiles excitement on how he had done his task.

You two had made it to the door and when you opened it you had startled the two Beta wolves. "Uh, no, no, no, just us. It's just us. Don't freak," Stiles rambled. You let out a breath of relief when you saw Isaac was alright and it looked like Isaac had done the same when he saw you.

"Is he okay," your best friend asked.

Isaac walked over to Jackson, raising his claw up, "Well... let's find out." When he went to swipe at Jackson his hand was caught as the lizard boy started to crush his hand. Isaac let out a groan of pain and he pulled back as hard as he could. He backed up to guys and you instantly grabbed his arm, "Are you okay?" Even when he was still grunting in pain, he nodded.

"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay," Stiles pointed to everyone and he received unanimous nods. Isaac groaned one more time, "I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out."

"Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're gonna get, so let's just hope that whoever's controlling him just decided to show up tonight."

Almost as if on cue, Jackson's eyes opened. You erratically began tapping Stiles and Isaac, "Guys, guys. Something's happening." Everyone watched Jackson as he started to speak, "I'm here." His voiced echoed and you could hear not just Jackson but someone else. It had to be the person controlling him.

"I'm right here with you."

You and Stiles looked at each other and slowly stepped towards the boy in the chair. "(Y/N), come back here." You ignored Isaac's words and crouched next to Stiles.

"Jackson, is that you," you asked quietly.

"Us. We're all here."

Stiles was taken aback by the answer, glancing over his shoulder at the werewolves behind you. "Are you the one killing people," Stiles questioned.

"We're the ones killing murderers."

His voice was full of venom and it was nearly as paralyzing as his actual toxin. It made you shiver out of fear. "So all the people you've killed so far-."

"Deserved it." He cut off Stiles violently.

"We got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers."

"Anything can break if enough pressure is applied."

You looked at Stiles again and took over the questioning, "Alright, so the people you're killing are all murderers then?"

"All. Each. Every one."

"Well, who'd they murder?"

"Me." His reply to your question truly stunned you, "They murdered me." Jackson's eyes rolled into his slitted ones and his head turned straight, "They murdered me." You and Stiles got up and started to back your way to the other two. Isaac had a small grip on your hip, keeping you close. You started to see Jackson's hands move, breaking free from its previous stillness.

"Alright," Stiles panicked, "Ketamine, the man needs more ketamine."

Isaac picked up the bottle, "We don't have anymore." Your best friend whipped around, "You used the whole bottle?" You saw Erica tap Stiles and you all looked to see Jackson standing, he hissed and his head began to shake violently.

"Okay, out, everybody out," you pushed Erica and Stiles forward. They needed no help from you though, all four of you rushed out of the room, bumping into each other until you closed the door. Everyone pressed their back on it and Stiles gave out instruction, "Okay, (Y/N), make a barrier hurry." It was too late, Jackson had busted through the wall and had made a break for it.

You guys all ran for the front door as everyone began leaving, you and Stiles made it outside and he crossed the line meeting Derek who was jogging over.

"Hey so we kind of lost Jackson inside, but it's-," Stiles' attention was on you and the two Betas who had also just walked out. You three were right on the line, they looked at you for reassurance and you raised your hand coming in contact with an invisible wall, it glowed a blueish color as you put more pressure on it.

"Oh, my god! It's working! Oh this is- yes! I did something!"

You heard a roar, it was so guttural. You felt the heat in your eyes, this time it was intense, if you weren't used to it by now it might have actually bugged you.

Scott

"Scott?" Derek had voiced your thought, he looked at you, he saw your eyes glow and he heard it too. The roar of a dying Scott.

"What," Stiles turned to Derek.

"Break it."

"What? No way!"

"Scott's dying!"

"What? How do you know that?"

"Oh, my god, Stiles! I just know! Break it!" Stiles broke the line and Derek took off. You could feel your feet moving before you could even think as you started to try and run too. You were stopped, however, by Isaac grabbing you, both arms wrapped around you.

"NO! LET GO! ISAAC! LET GO! SCOTT HE- HE'S HURT! YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO!" It was almost manic how much you thrashed to try and get out of the boy's hold. He held on tighter, "(Y/N), no, okay you can't, you can't fight yet. Derek will save him, okay, Derek will save him."

Your eyes were pouring tears at this point, "No, no, Scott he needs help, he needs me," you whimpered as you fell to the ground, Isaac coming with you but his arms never leaving their position around you.

His lips pressed against your hair and he just continued to comfort you, "I know, baby, I know. But he's gonna be okay. Derek's gonna save him. You have to stay here, okay, baby?"

You nodded still crying now holding onto Isaac like your life depended on it, muttering the same thing over and over again, "Scott he's- he's dying. He's dying- he's-."

"It's okay, baby, it's gonna be okay."

___________________________________

a/n: I finally gave you guys more isaac and y/n, aren't you guys happy with me? lol anyways hope you guys enjoy! let me know what you think!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction @mushroomelephant @breadbrobin @traumverloren-anderswelt @fandom-princess-forevermore @vanessa-boo

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