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mishastits · 3 years

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prompt: “Say it.”

author’s note: this takes place like right after stiles and the nogitsune split, and after allison’s death. i dunno wtf compelled me to write this but here we are and i hope you enjoy

pairing: stiles x reader

word count: ~2.2k

It had been one of the longest days of your life, and all you wanted to do was go to sleep. Allison was gone, and you couldn’t believe it. She had been one of your closest friends and now, as you laid in bed, all you could think about was how you would never get to see her smile or hear her laugh again. You’d never be able to go to her for advice, or cry on her shoulder when you felt like nobody else would listen. She was really gone.

Tears streamed down your face as you stared at the ceiling of your mostly-dark room, illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlights pouring through the cracks in your blinds. So much shit had happened since Scott was bitten, but you never imagined that you’d actually lose anyone. The pack was in danger a lot, but you always made it out safe one way or another, until now.

You resigned to the idea that you wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight as you laid flat on your back. Your mind was clear of everything except thoughts and memories of Allison until your phone buzzed and lit up the room. You sniffled and wiped your eyes before turning over to reach for your phone on your nightstand. It was a text from Stiles.

Stiles

12:38

Hey, are you awake?

12:39

yeah, what’s up?

12:39

Open your window

You frowned, but walked over to your bedroom window and opened the blinds. You jumped when you saw Stiles standing outside it, looking just as pale and sickly as he did when you saw him a couple of hours ago. He hadn’t even changed clothes. You wiped away the tears that remained on your face, and then opened the window so you could talk to him. “What are you doing here, dude? Shouldn’t you be asleep? Or, like, resting at least?” you asked, stepping back.

“I don’t know. Probably,” Stiles sighed. “Can I, like, come in?” he asked. “It’s cold out here.” He was visibly shivering.

“Of course, yeah. Do you wanna use the door or can you climb in?” you asked. He answered you by hoisting himself up and into your room. You realized then that you weren’t wearing anything but an old oversized t-shirt and your underwear. Your face went red as you turned around and walked to your dresser to put on a pair of sweatpants before sitting down on your bed.

Stiles toed his shoes off once he was inside, sitting down in the chair across the room. He was silent.

You flicked on your lamp so you could see each other more clearly, Stiles looked… well, he looked sick. He looked bad. And you had never seen Stiles look bad in your whole life. Not even when he had that godawful buzzcut. The two of you sat in silence as he bounced his leg and chewed at the inside of his lip.

“What’re you doing here? Are you alright?” you asked quietly, after minutes of silence. His eyes flickered up to you, and then back down to his feet. He remained quiet. You were pretty sure you could see his eyes filling with tears. It broke your heart.

“Stiles,” you whispered, barely audible. “Come here. Come sit with me,” you offered, patting the spot next to you on your bed. You sat with your legs crossed and your body facing him once he sat down next to you. He still wasn’t saying anything.

You wanted so badly to reach out and hug him, but part of you (well, most of you, if you were going to be honest) was still afraid of him. Your eyes flickered to right below his ear, where you saw the mark of the Oni. It really was Stiles. Of course, you already knew that. You had been there to witness the death of the Nogitsune. But it had been wearing his face when it did all of those awful things. When it got Allison killed.

You decided to reach for his hand, placing it gently on top of his. “Stiles, I understand if you don’t want to talk. But are you alright?” you asked him, your eyes searching his for anything that might be off.

Stiles turned to meet your eyes for the first time, which caused tears to roll down his face. “It’s my fault,” he whispered. “Allison is dead, and it’s my fault.” It was so quiet that you weren’t even sure you had heard him right.

Your heart broke all over again. “No, Stiles. Of course it isn’t your fault. That… thing was wearing your face, but we all know it wasn’t you.” You spoke softly, taking your hand from on top of his and wrapping your arm around his waist to pull him closer.

You’d had a thing for Stiles for a while, but you were best friends. It wasn’t something you were interested in ruining just yet. You’d do anything for him and he knew it. That’s probably why he wound up at your window half past midnight instead of Scott’s.

Stiles just leaned into you as soft sobs wracked his body. He was frail and thin, more so than usual. You could feel his ribs as you rubbed your hand up and down his side. “Allison’s dead, y/n,” he whimpered, burying his face in your neck.

Your eyes welled up with tears again and you nodded. “Yeah,” your voice broke as you began to cry along with him. “She is. I know,” you whispered, smoothing down the hair on the back of his head as you held his body close to yours.

You both sat there, holding each other and crying for a while. You weren’t sure how much time had passed when your sobs finally quieted, but neither of you moved. Your breathing steadied and the room was filled with only the sounds of soft sniffles. Stiles held on to you tighter than you thought he ever had before.

“Can I stay here tonight? I don’t think I can handle sleeping alone,” Stiles asked, pulling away to meet your eyes again. As sick as he looked, he was still weirdly beautiful. He was beautiful in a way that you couldn’t quite describe. He still had a softness to him, an innocence, even after everything he had just been through. You silently hoped that he would never lose it.

Your expression softened and you reached up to cup his cheek in your hand. “Of course you can. I’m sure I have something you can sleep in so you don't have to wear jeans to bed,” you stood up and kissed his forehead before rummaging around in your closet. You pulled out an old pair of sweatpants that were too big for you, and then one of your sleep shirts. You handed them to him and pulled the covers back on your bed before sitting back down on the edge.

Stiles turned his back to you and unzipped his jacket. He let it fall to the floor before lifting his shirt over his head, exposing his skin to the cold air of your room. A visible shiver went down his spine as he pulled the clean shirt over his head. You decided that it was probably too much of an invasion of privacy to watch him strip the rest of the way, so you turned around and crawled under the covers with your back to him.

You heard him shuffle for a moment before undoing his belt buckle, and pulling it from the loops of his jeans. You heard him unzip his pants and then you heard them fall to the floor. Your heart was racing. Moments later, after a little more movement of fabric, you felt the bed next to you dip just slightly. You took a deep breath as you felt the covers being pulled up over the both of you.

Your breathing was shaky as you rolled over to face Stiles. You smiled softly at him, reaching out to place your hand upon his where it rested in between the two of you. There were a couple of minutes of silence before Stiles scooted in closer to you. He was so close that your noses nearly touched, and you could feel his breath on your face.

Stiles moved his hand from beneath yours. For a split second, you were worried that you had overstepped. But then, you felt his hand on your face, and then you felt it run through your hair and around to the back of your neck. Your hand shook as you reached your own arm down to rest on his waist.

You sat there, just like that, with his hand on the back of your neck and yours rubbing slow circles on his waist for what felt like forever. The whole time, his eyes never left yours. After everything that had happened today, and in the days before, you felt like this was exactly what you needed. You knew in your heart that it didn’t mean to Stiles what it meant to you, but it was okay. He was here, he was in your bed and you were holding him.

As you stared at him, and he stared right back at you, you felt his hand trail down your back to rest right above the hem of your pants. Directly in the place where your shirt had ridden up a couple of inches, and he could touch your bare skin. You felt like you were on fire where his skin met yours, and your heart pounded as he pulled you in impossibly closer to him, pressing your bodies flush together from your chests to your hips.

Stiles pressed one of his legs between both of yours, still not breaking eye contact. “I know that everything has been awful for as long as we both can remember,” he started, “But I’m so glad that you’re here. I’m so glad I have you.” his words were hushed as he pressed his forehead to yours, nudging his nose against your face.

Was this happening? Did Stiles want the same thing that you did? “Stiles, I…” you trailed off, the lump forming in your throat prevented you from finishing your sentence. All you wanted right now was to tell him exactly how you felt. To let him know exactly how loved he was.

“Say it.” Stiles whispered, his lips just barely brushing your own as he spoke. It was now or never.

“I love you,” you said, your eyes darting between both of his. There was just enough time to see him smile before his lips were pressed to yours.

You melted against him, your lips moving slowly against his. The kiss wasn’t heated, it wasn’t desperate. It was slow and sweet. Your arms wrapped around Stiles’ waist, and his came up to hold your face as he kissed you. You had never felt this good in your entire life.

Stiles swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, causing you to part them. He pressed closer to you as he deepened the kiss, sighing softly into your mouth. Your heart was pounding as you slipped your hands beneath his shirt, just wanting to feel his skin. You wanted to touch every part of him you were allowed. He let you.

Stiles’ hands had moved from cupping your face, to holding your hips. His fingers squeezed at the flesh there as he rolled over onto his back, bringing you with him. This put you on top of him now, your legs straddling his waist as you tangled your fingers in his hair. You yelped at the sudden movement, but didn’t allow it to distract you from the kiss and Stiles’ hands roaming up your back. He sat up to meet you and held the back of your neck while you sat in his lap.

You wrapped your legs around his middle, pulling away with a smile.

Stiles rubbed the top of your thighs as he smiled back at you, but there was a sadness in his eyes. It was in yours too. As happy as this moment was, you both knew that when the sun rose, you would still have to face tomorrow. You wished more than anything that you could just freeze time and stay right here with him.

As if he was reading your mind, Stiles whispered, “I wish we could stay here forever,” before laying his head on your chest and snaking his arms around your middle to hold you as close as he could.

You laced your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I know, me too,” you sighed. “But I’m so glad to have you back. I’ve missed you so much,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Stiles lifted his head to press another soft kiss to your lips. Against them, he said “I missed you too.”

Things were bad now, really bad. But at least you had this, at least you had him.

#stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #void stiles #teen wolf #stiles stilisnki reader insert #stiles reader insert #my writing #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles x you #stiles stilisnki fanfiction #stiles fanfiction #aaaaaa #if anyone wants to send prompts or requests for stiles x reader stuff ill do my best #love u guys heres some food <3

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anxiousstark · 4 years

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S2 10 | Fury

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 2848

Warnings: Mentions of guns, degrading names, injuries, blood, murder, swearing (always).

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

"So this kid's the real killer?" Noah Stilisnki asked, his eyes moving from Scott and Stiles to me. We were in Stiles's bedroom, showing him a picture of Matt. We needed to end this, but Noah didn't seem convinced by what we were trying to explain.

"Yeah." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"No."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Dad, come on." He got up from his chair, standing in front of the man who had raised him. "Everybody knows that the police look for ways to connect victims in a murder, okay? So all he had to do is, like, look through their transcripts and figure out which class they all had in common."

"Yeah, except for the fact that the rave promoter Kara wasn't in Harris's class."

"All right, okay, you're right, sorry. Then I guess they dropped the charges against him?"

"No, you know what? They're not dropping the charges. But that doesn't prove anything." Stiles groaned, throwing his hands up.

"Scott, do you believe this?"

"It's really hard to explain how we know this, but you just gotta trust us. We know it's Matt." His calming voice reassured the Sheriff, but still, he seemed to have doubts. He glanced at me, and I nodded my head.

"Yeah, he took Harris's car, okay? Look, he knew that if a cop found tire tracks at one of the murders, and that if enough of the victims were in Harris's class, that they'd arrest him."

"All right, fine. I'll allow the remote possibility, but give me a motive." We looked at each other, sighing in relief. "I mean, why would this kid want most of the 2006 swim team and its coach dead?"

"Isn't it obvious?" We still didn't know why Matt was doing this, so no. "Our swim team sucks! They haven't won in, like, six years." He shouted before his voice lowered. "Okay, we don't have a motive yet. I mean, come on, does Harris?" Before Noah could answer back his son, I hit Stiles's arm. "Ouch, what was that for?" He rubbed the placed where I had hit him while glancing at me.

"I'm in the swim team, asshole." I pouted, but then I quickly connected another dot. "That's why he attacked me." Both boys looked at me confused, still trying to understand. "That could be another reason, guys. I'm in the swim team." However, there were other people in the swim team, so why didn't he attack them?

"Attacked you?" Mr. Stilisnki directed at me. He seemed mad. "Okay, what do you want me to do?"

We smiled, sighing in content. "We need to look at the evidence," Scott's voice sounded confident.

"Yeah, that would be in the station, where I no longer work."

"Trust me. They'll let you in."

Sheriff Stilisnki was perplexed due to his son's words. "Trust you?" His fingers pointed at him.

"T-trust Scott?" Sheriff still wasn't convinced. "Trust...Y/N?"

"Y/N I trust." I grinned, feeling better than the other two boys, which made both of them push me a little. Tsk, is that jealousy I smell?

"It's 2:00 in the morning." The Deputy behind the counter gave us a judging look. Sheriff Stilisnki took the three of us to the station in hopes of finding more information, which seemed complicated as he no longer worked there.

"Believe me, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't extremely important."

"We look at the hospital stuff first, okay?" The hazel-eyed boy whispered to Scott and me. "Because all the murders were committed by Jackson, except for one, you remember?" We nodded. The pregnant girl, Jessica.

"Yeah. Since Matt had to kill her himself, somebody from the hospital could've seen him."

The Deputy made a gesture with her head. "Thank you. Boys. Y/N." We entered the office, watching the recording from the cameras of the hospital. "I don't know, guys. I mean, look at this. There was a six-car pileup that night, the hospital was jammed."

"All right, just keep going. Look, he had to have passed one of the cameras on that floor to get to Jessica, okay? He's gotta be on the footage somewhere."

"Oh, hold on, stop! Did you see that? Scroll back." I hurriedly pointed to the camera.

"That's him! That's Matt!"

"All I see is the back of someone's head." Mr. Stilisnki glanced at us over his shoulder.

"Matt's head, yeah. I sit behind him in history. He's got a very distinct cranium, it's weird." A disgusting expression decorated his face. But it couldn't surpass Noah's face, realizing how weird his son was. "All right, fine, then look at his jacket, huh? How many people do you know who wear black leather jackets?"

"Millions, literally."

"Okay, can we scroll forward? There's gotta be a shot of him coming at one of the cameras."

"Right there! Stop, stop! See, there he is again."

"You mean there's the back of his head again."

"Okay, but look. He's talking to someone."

"He's talking to my mom." He took his phone out, calling Melissa who was working. After sending her a picture of Matt, she affirmed recognizing him. She had stopped him because he was tracking mud in the hall.

Noah rapidly grabbed some files. "We've got shoe prints alongside the tire tracks at the trailer site."

"And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of three murders. The trailer, the hospital, and the rave." Stiles added.

"Actually, four. A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt at the garage where the mechanic was killed."

"When?"

"A couple hours before you got there."

"All right, dad, if one's an incident, two's a coincidence, and three's a pattern, what's four?"

"Four's enough for a warrant." We sighed in relief. "Scott, call your mom back, see how quick she can get here. If I can get an official ID, I can get a search warrant. Y/N, go to the front desk. Tell them to let Scott's mom in when she gets here."

"On it!" I quickly hurried. When I arrived at the front desk, there was nobody. "Hello?" I glance down. The Deputy was lying on the floor, wide eyes, blood covering all of her chest. Then, I noticed that her gun was missing. I heard a click, turning around. Matt was there, the gun pointing to the space between my eyes.

He turned my body around, now pointing the gun to the back of my head. "Walk." We both started walking towards Noah's office.

Stiles was the first one to notice me, his eyes shaking. He was going to take a step forward when his father stopped him. "Matt?" Noah showed him his empty unarmed hands. "It's Matt, right? Matt, whatever's going on, I guarantee you there's a solution that doesn't involve a gun."

"You know, it's funny you say that because I don't think you're aware of just how right you are." The barrel of the gun was pressed tighter against my head as he talked.

"I know you don't wanna hurt people."

"Actually, I wanna hurt a lot of people. You three weren't on my list," The gun he was holding hit the back of my scalp, making me hiss. "She was, Y/N McCall. If it wasn't for her, everything would have gone perfectly. But she HAD to be there, at the video store, fucking everything up." He sighed, pushing me forward. Stiles grabbed me, checking my face quickly, touching the back of my head to make sure that I didn't have any wound. "But I could be persuaded. And one way is to try dialling somebody on your cell phone like McCall is doing. T-that could definitely get someone hurt. Everyone. Now!"

Matt made Stiles handcuff his father, then he took us with him. On the corridor, three officers were on the ground, lifeless. "What, are you gonna kill everyone in here?" Scott asked.

"No, that's what Jackson's for. I just think about killing them, and he does it." He smirked.

Now, we were destroying all the files that conducted to him being a murderer. "Deleted. And we're done. All right, so, Matt, since all the people you brutally murdered deserved it because they killed you first, whatever that means, I think we're good here, right? So I'll just get my dad, and we'll go, you know? You continue on the whole vengeance thing. Enjoy the Kanima."

We saw a light, followed by the sound of a car. "Sounds like your mom's here, McCall."

"Matt, don't do this. When she comes to the door, I'll just tell her to leave. I'll tell her we didn't find anything. Please, Matt."

"If you don't move now. I'm gonna kill Stiles first, and then your mom. And then," He smirked. "I'm going to kill her. Because thanks to Y/N the Kanima isn't as strong as it could be. That night, if Jackson would have been the only one getting scratched, all of this wouldn't have happened. You guys would probably be dead." His rage was directed towards me. "But this bitch had to go inside the video store, and fuck everything up."

"And I will fuck everything up again if you touch anyo-" Stiles gripped my arm, begging me to calm down.

To our surprise, it wasn't Melissa. It was Derek. But he was paralyzed as soon as he came inside, falling to the floor, and letting us see Jackson behind him. "This is the one controlling him? This kid?" I tried not to chuckle.

"Well, Derek, not everyone's lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf. Oh, yeah, that's right. I've learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, kanimas. It's like a fucking Halloween party every full moon. Except for you, Stiles. What do you turn into?"

"Abominable snowman," I whispered his name, trying to let him know that it wasn't the time to be sarcastic. "But, uh, it's more of, like, a wintertime thing, you know, seasonal."

Matt didn't like Stiles's comment. Jackson scratched his neck, paralyzing him. His body fell on top of Derek. "You bitch."

"Get him off of me."

"Oh, I don't know, Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair. It must kinda suck, though, to have all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you're not used to feeling this helpless."

"Still got some teeth. Why don't you get down here a little closer, huh? We'll see how helpless I am."

Again, we heard a car. This time, it was Melissa. Scott went out with Matt, the next thing we knew, we heard a gunshot. I stayed on the floor, next to Stiles and Derek. Jackson's eyes fixed on me, smirking. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to end all of this.

A couple of minutes later, Matt came back to the room. My eyes focused on Scott, seeing the blood on his shirt. I walked up to him, examining his face for any type of signal that would let me know that he was healing. He just side-hugged me, keeping me away from his injury. "Is Melissa okay?" I whispered.

He nodded, glaring at Matt. "The evidence is gone. Why don't you just go?"

"Y-you think the evidence mattered that much, huh? No, no, I-I want the book." We both were confused. Matt groaned, getting madder. "The bestiary. Not just a few pages, I want the entire thing."

"I don't have it. It's Gerard's. What do you want it for, anyway?"

"I need answers." He used the back of his mouth to clean the visible sweat around his mouth.

"Answers to what?"

"To this." He lifted his shirt. His right side was the same colour as the Kanima, scales all over it, and it seemed to palpitate. It looked like that thing had its own life. "I'm tired of this," He grabbed Scott's shirt roughly. "Come with me. Jackson, keep an eye on those two," His glare went to me. "And her."

I sat down again, next to both boys while Jackson kept guard of the room so nobody would go inside or outside.

"Hey. You know what's happening to Matt?" Stiles whispered.

"I know the book's not gonna help him. You can't just break the rules, not like this."

"What do you mean?" I asked, keeping my eyes on Jackson.

"Universe balances things out. Always does." He panted. "He is using Jackson to kill people, and killing people himself." I stared at Derek, waiting for him to continue. "Balance."

"Wait," Stiles intervened. "So he becomes the Kanima? Derek nodded. We needed to stop him. We needed to tell him. I glance around the room, seeing my backpack on the floor. "Oh no," I heard Stilinski muttering. "What are you thinking of, McCall?" He tried to move his head to glance at me. "Don't do anything stupid, please. You are the one who told me that when I confronted Peter Hale."

"Did you listen to me, Stiles?" I asked in a hushed voice, crawling to my bag, rummaging through it until I grabbed the object that I was searching for. Pepper spray.

He groaned. "No, I didn't." I slowly got up from the ground, without making any sound. "You aren't going to listen, right?"

"Hey, Jackson," His head snapped to me, eyes shining. "Beautiful eyes." I rapidly used pepper spray. Jackson groaned, kneeling on the ground, and aggressively rubbing his eyes. I threw the spray back to the boys. "He will come to get me. I need to help Scott. Use the spray if you need it!" And even though Derek Hale told me not to do anything absurd, I continued running.

However, the power in the entire station turned off. "Fuck," I muttered. The sound of guns being shot scared the shit out of me, but I had to find Scott. I crawled on the floor, hands covering my head as the windows were being broken by the bullets. Then, when the shots seemed to stop, I got up and ran.

"Shit," My heart almost came out of my chest when I saw Allison. I felt fear because something bad could happen to her, then I felt relieved because we were worried about her as we hadn't seen her at the end of the party. And again, I felt terrified when I saw her face. A numb expression decorating her features while she had a hard grip on her crossbow. "What are you doing here?"

"Where's Derek? She avoided my question, answering with her own. "Where's Derek?!" Her eyes were teary.

"An answer for an answer," I replied. "What the heck are you doing here? You need to get the hell out of here." I looked around, deciding to whisper. "Allison, this is dangerous."

"I'm going to kill Derek Hale because he killed my mom." She spat. "And I will kill anyone who gets on my way."

"Bitch," I mumbled. "Derek Hale saved our asses a million times. Yeah, he probably isn't the best at communication, but when I say our asses, I also mean yours." I scowled. "Your mom," I smirked. "A huge bitch she is. Well, she was." Allison threw a punch at me, but I surprisingly dodged it, something you would only expect in films or books. "She deserves all that she got. She went to the hospital to get information from Mellisa." She glanced at the ground while I continued. "She deserved all that she got. Do you know why? Because she tried to kill Scott." She was in denial, but she knew because her family was deranged. "She tried to kill your boyfriend, Allison. She tried to kill my brother." I firmly stated.

"Shut up!" Next thing I knew, there was an arrow piercing my stomach. The arrow was exactly in the middle. I stared at it, and the blood coming out, although no words were coming out of my mouth as I stared at her. "Oh my, I-I didn't mean to-" I fell to the ground, thankfully on my back so the arrow wouldn't get more stuck in my abdomen. Allison was also interrupted when the Kanima appeared, paralyzing her. Then, it was Matt's turn to make an appearance.

"You should've given me a chance. Because remember how I said I'm not the kind of guy who would say something like: 'well if I can't have her, no one can.' It's not totally true because, Allison, if I can't have you, no one can!" He screamed. "Thank you for finding this slut," He kneeled next to me, brushing my hair. "Pepper spray, uh?"

"If I could," I gasped for air. "I would fucking k-kill you right now."

"Yeah," He laughed hysterically. "But I think you are dying first. Should we show momma McCall, Scott, and Stiles how stunningly beautiful you look as the blood leaves your body?" This dude was sick, utterly sick. "Yeah, let's show them." The hand that was caressing my hair clutched it forcefully, dragging me by my hair through all the rooms in the station. I lost consciousness.

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker - @brithedemonspawn - @weirdowithnobeardo - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @azayamari - @poguestyle17 - @bibliophilewednesday -

People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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someofusarequeer · 4 years

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do yall know how surreal it was to have restarted teen wolf after it finished and to start reading fanfic a few seasons in and then randomly one episode in like season 6 they call the sheriff noah and give me fucking whiplash

#rambling #teen wolf #sheriff stilinski #sheriff john #sheriff john stilisnki #sheriff noah stilinski #noah stilinski #sheriff noah #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #fandom #i literally sat there like #wait wtf his name is john

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wyrm-wolf · 5 years

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Hi!!! Just read your "feral Derek" sterek story and I absolutely loved it! At the end in the notes I read that I can drop an ask with a prompt, so here I am! if it's too much of a hassle or u are not into it no probs just ignore, anyways can you make a jealous/possessive Derek fic? It's been so long since I read one and I have been CRAVING, anyways thank you so much!

Thank for the lovely prompt! The idea for this actually came from rereading Three Phone Calls by paintbomb on ao3, really good fic if you haven’t read it yourself. Hope you enjoy!!

—

Derek Hale fucked like he was in love.

Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. But the truth of the matter was that when Stiles came over the one night out of the whole week he fucked like he was in love. He knew there was something wrong; after all Stiles was just there for business and pleasure, it was his job to get Derek off and then leave right after. The first couple of times that’s exactly what happened. They fucked, Derek paid Stiles and then Stiles left. But that was over two months ago. Now when they fucked they laughed, they smiled, Stiles would crack jokes and have Derek snorting or shaking with laughter. Sometimes rolling his eyes at him.

Now instead of leaving right after they fuck, Stiles will lay in bed with Derek to either talk about his day or doze off. Then they would eat a little something, Derek would ask if Stiles wanted to shower and he always says yes. Stiles will hang around in Derek’s loft sometimes an hour long, sometimes longer depending on how tired he is from classes that day. Derek will always remind him that he can spend the night if he wants to and he’ll drop Stiles off in the morning, but the proposition is always responded with a smirk and Stiles saying, “You just want me to warm your bed up longer.”

He wants to say yes, but Derek always responds with something snappy back at him which gets the younger man snickering. He does want Stiles in his bed longer but not for sex, he wants intimacy. He wants to hold Stiles as they lay on his bed for hours, to run his scent all over the man and listen to him talk for hours about how DC is so much better than Marvel. Watching the way Stiles talks with his hands and laughs with his whole body, so jubilant and loud. The social butterfly to Derek’s social hermit. And when Stiles leaves he always leaves with a peck to Derek’s lips like a lover leaving for war but giving him one last token to hold onto. And Derek holds onto that last kiss like it’s a lifeline to his devastated heart.

So yes, Derek Hale fucks like he’s in love. Because he has fallen so hard for Stiles he worries the man already knows. Has noticed how Derek kisses him like it’s the air he breathes, touches him like he’s a treasure to the world, taste him with his lips and tongue like a starving man. He fucks him with his whole body and heart; hands clinging onto Stiles skin, body shuddering like it’ll break apart every time he comes. His wolf wants to howl, to Mark and claim this beautiful creature beneath it but his human side knows Stiles is off limits to him. He shouldn’t touch or crave him like a mad man, but he’s already gotten too attached to Stiles. Leaning and yearning every simple touch, whether it be from Stiles resting a hand on his arm, running quick fingers through his hair or those Cupid bowed lips branding into his skin like a mark.

“This was fun.” Stiles tells him with a grin as they lay in bed enjoying the afterglow. His hands-always moving, always with energy-run up and down Derek’s side, tracing random patterns into his skin before settling for one second to rest and then they’re off again.

Derek grunts, moving closer to press his nose against Stiles neck to inhale his scent. Wishing it would cling to his bedsheets like it does in the back of his head. Stiles grins, bringing a hand up to cup the side of Derek’s face, the werewolf rubs his beard against the open palm and settled once more.

“I don’t know why people are afraid of you,” Stiles comments, “You’re such a giant cuddle bear.”

“Only with you.”

Stiles smiles so brightly at him it hurts to stare for so long.

Closing his eyes so he can just focus on Stiles heart beat, Derek feels his wolf grow content as Stiles continues to pet him. Rubbing his scent all over Derek’s hot skin. He feels lips press against the side of his lips before Stiles settles in his arms and dozed off while they sleep.

Next time, he’ll tell Stiles they need to stop.

He doesn’t tell Stiles how he feels the next time, or the time after that. Not even the third time. And the longer he has Stiles in his grasp the more possessive he grows, he sees that green eyed monster snarling in the corner of his red when Stiles leaves. Knowing the human is going to be with another client the next day or day after that, it makes him snarl so loud it reverberates all around his loft. Shaking the metal walls. It’s a kind of snarl that has your skin rippling with goosebumps and your feet frozen like prey. After the third failure, Derek lets his wolf go on the next full moon.

The monster gnashes it’s teeth, tearing everything on it’s path to shreds. Chasing after a scent that calls to him like a sirens song. When he gets to the edge of the trees he sees Stiles walking down the street laughing with some red head woman, it makes his bristles stand And all he wants to do is tear the woman apart, bit by bit, and then take Stiles back to his den so he can rub away any scent that isn’t his. But Derek freezes at those horrific thoughts, his whole body jumps and shudders with disgust at himself.

He’s a monster. And he shouldn’t be anywhere near Stiles anymore.

He runs back home, frantic and panting, afraid he’ll loose the nerve the moment before he can call. Picking up his phone he dials Stiles number and waits three rings until the man picks up.

“Hey Der-“

“I can’t see you anymore. It’s-we just-not anymore.”

“Wait-What? Derek-“

“Goodbye.”

The loft is dealthy silent after he ends the call, creaking ominously as if it understands his pain. But it doesn’t know, no one knows how much he loves Stiles. How possessive and jeleous he’s gotten of the other man, he wants to tear into anyone else who lays a hand on Stiles skin. Snarl at anyone who gets a glance at that beautiful smile. He’s so disgusted with how much he wants to lock Stiles away forever and keep him all to himself.

This time when he lets the wolf out it’s to destroy his whole loft, shredding claws against the bed that smells so heavily of Stiles and his scent it drives him mad, throwing tables like they’re nothing and smashing glasses everywhere. The pain is nothing but dull. The ache in his chest is what has him whining and sobbing with agony.

When he woke up it wasn’t to the sound of Stiles off key singing, the pattering of his bare feet on the floor or the clatter of pans when he was trying to sneakily make himself a late dinner. This time it was to the sound of someone pounding on the front door.

Standing up, Derek walked to the front door still in a daze as the moons presence had yet to leave his body. When he opened the door it was to Stiles furious face.

“Stiles. What are you-“

“No. You shut up, and sit the fuck down because you are going to listen to everything I have to say.” He growled, pushing Derek back into his loft. Freezing when he saw the wreckage that was Derek’s loft right now, “Jesus. What the fuck happened? Was there a wild animal in here or something!?”

Before Derek could open his mouth and speak, Stiles had a hand over his mouth. “Rhetorical question. I didn’t say you could speak yet.”

He pushed Derek to sit on the shredded couch, before taking a step back to stand in front of him with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “I get a call late at night while I’m hanging out with my friends from you, just flat out telling me we can’t see each other again and that’s it! You don’t explain, don’t give me any room to speak, you just fucking end it like that. What the fuck Derek! I thought-I thought we had something going on, but I guess you were just yanking my chain the whole time.”

Whining, Derek let his head fall forward in shame, his voice quivering as he spoke. “We can’t see each other anymore.” He told Stiles like a broken record.”

“Why.”

He wishes it was so easy to tell him the truth, to tell Stiles, ‘I’m a werewolf and I’ve fallen in love with. I’ve grown so attached that I almost killed the woman you were with last night because I was so jeleous and all I want to do is keep you to myself forever.’ And then Stiles would see what a terrible monster he was and would just run away. Leave Derek in the dust.

“Because.”

“Derek fucking Hale, you tell me the truth right now or else.”

The ‘or else’ shook Derek to the core and made him snap. “I’m a monster!” He roared, eyes shifting to blue his face twisting itself from the shift as fangs grow and claws elongate. “I can’t have you with me anymore because I don’t want to let you go. I want to keep you here forever and I know that’s not what you want. Stiles you need to run from me. I love you too much to hurt you but-but the wolf inside of me is getting harder and harder to control the more we’re together. You need to run before I do something awful.”

Stiles stood there frozen, eyes stuck on Derek’s face the entire time he spoke. It felt like an eternity before he finally moved, hands reaching up to gently cup Derek’s face. Derek wanted nothing more than to pull back and run away but his wolf held him in place and had him yearning to nuzzle against Stiles hands. Thumbs traces over his thick brow ridges, sliding down to caress his side burns before lifting Derek’s lips up a little to reveal the fangs in his mouth. And then Stiles just snorted.

Like it was funny.

“You look like the vampires from Buffy, dude. Oh my god, are you a vampire! That would be some weird Twilight shit.”

Derek was shell shocked at the questions, “What? Stiles I just-I told you the truth, you need to go.” And ten furrowed his eyebrows in a glare, “And I’m a werewolf not a vampire.”

Stiles eyes lighted up at that, “That explains so much why you’re so cuddly after sex and like pressing your face against my neck. Also dude I’m not running away from you. Not after you just confessed your love to me.”

Derek just stared at Stiles.

Stiles grinned at him and leaned forward to kiss Derek’s lips, unbothered by the fangs that could tear open his skin like it was paper. “Did you know, I stopped seeing any other clients three weeks ago?”

Eyebrows shot up at that, “Wh-“

“I was going to wait until our next session to tell you the truth about how I felt. I thought that you felt the same way because you always wanted me to stay, I knew it wasn’t just for sex because you always listened to me when I was ranting. If it was anyone else they would have gotten annoyed and told me to shut up or leave, but with you...you always listened to everything I said. And you remembered things too, like how I had a big test the next day and you let me study all night instead of fucking me. You didn’t even care when I was loud or annoying you just looked at me like I was something to be cherished. And well, when you called me last night I-I was so angry and sad. I cried a lot last night and had to stop my friends from coming here to kill you.”

Taking in every word Stiles had spoken, Derek grips Stiles shirt and drags him closer so he can kiss the other man. He’s confused. He thought Stiles would scream at him, run away, punch in the face and then leave him to rot alone. Derek never expected Stiles to kiss him like he was the most important thing in his life. They kiss four hours, Stiles pushing Derek to sit back on the couch so he can sit in the older mans lap as they continue to kiss. Stopping for a moment to study Derek’s shifted face quietly, hands always moving like they always do. When his fingers get close to Derek’s mouth he turns his head to kiss the digits, his face slowly shifting back to human.

“What happened to your place?” Stiles ask a moment after his face shifts, laying his head on Derek’s bare chest as his fingers trace random patterns against his skin.

“I was angry last night...It was the full moon and I let my wolf take control so I-“

Stiles chuckles, turning his head up to kiss Derek again. The way he kisses is so gentle it makes Derek feel breakable. “Your like the Hulk, except you turn into a wolf instead of a big green monster.”

“Close enough. We’re both monsters.”

“You’re not a monster.” Stiles looks at him like a teacher looks when they’re correcting a student.

“Stiles, the things-“

A finger on his lips stop him from speaking anymore, he doesn’t want to look at Stiles face because Derek knows if he does he’ll break all over again. But that warm hand slowly turns his face until he’s staring into honey eyes. “Maybe I want you to keep me forever.”

“Stiles.” Derek begs.

Leaning forward Stiles kisses him silent again, and Derek lets himself fall in those arms. Let’s Stiles cradle his head, run his fingers through Derek’s hair and whisper sweet nothings in his ears. Stiles tells Derek he’s not going anywhere, and his wolf howls with triumph, this time he doesn’t have to let go. This time there won’t be a token kiss goodbye, because there’ll be a kiss good morning instead. A kiss goodnight. And a kiss just because Stiles wants to kiss him.

#my writing #sterek #eternal sterek #eternalsterek #stiles stilisnki #derek hale #stiles x derek #teen wolf #sterek fanfiction #fanfiction

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sterekfor-life · 5 years

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For our lost fics, memories that refuse to come back.

I will never stop looking for you.

#fic rec #sterek fic #sterek fics #lost fic #reading fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #derek hale fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #Stiles Stilisnky fanfiction

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sftykth · 6 years

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CARELESS / Dylan O’Brien

Dylan is a rich business man who is married and has kids. Nothing but you can fill his longing needs, although for how long?

* indicates smut.

Part One: The Drunk. *

Part Two: The Job.

Part Three: The Tease.(Coming soon)

Part Four: The Nearly Caught. *

Part Five: The Dinner. *

Part Six: The Business Trip.

Part Seven: The Confession. *

Part Eight: The Breaking. *

Part Nine: The Unexpected.

Part Ten: The Finale. *

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sophia1644 · 7 years

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Downpour

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Warnings: angst to the damn max, both of you guys crying and being absolutely devastated bc u lost each other ;((((( , but don’t worry it’s a v happy ending aka smutty towards the end

Summary: Y/N loves Stiles Stilinski dearly and can’t believe she let her soulmate slip through her fingers so easily. Luckily, Stiles comes to the same realization, both of them not letting the downpour hinder their love.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: yayayyayayay, I really like this I was listening to this song on repeat. omfg it’s so good idk I love her voice and the vibes. Like I feel like I should be in a quaint coffee shop sipping a latte in a cozy sweater with my boyfriend. Don’t forget to comment if you like this ;) it’s much appreciated bc I love feedback!! It makes my day!!!

I sit down at the wooden bench to my bay window, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders and snuggling deeper into the crimson flannel that still vaguely smelt of him. I hug my mug full of hot cocoa closer to my chest, warmth radiating to my fingertips as I look out the window. Rain falls down, wetting the pavement and turning everything a darker shade while a peaceful, rhythmic sound taps against the glass pane.

I wish that he was here, but I push that thought aside, knowing that he wasn’t mine anymore. A tear slips down my cheek and I’m quick to brush it away with the heel of my hand, taking in a deep breath and exhaling it through my nose.

“It’s over,” is all that keeps replaying in my head on repeat. The way his face morphed from anger to disbelief to sadness within a second after the brash words fell from my lips, fueled by anger and not truth. The way I slammed the door as I ran out of his house, keys in hand and tears brimming my eyes. And the way I didn’t turn back. And how I haven’t answered anyone’s calls or texts for at least a week now, including his.

“I’m such an idiot,” I mutter, more tears threatening and proceeding to fall down my cheeks. I can’t believe that that is how I ended things with the person I truly believed- still believe, is my soulmate.

One argument that went too far, ending with anger-filled words that we would never use with clear state of mind. Words that we would never use in any circumstance towards each other, but still managed to slip past our lips.

I set the cracked blue mug aside, wrapping my arms around my knees and tugging them closer, placing my chin atop as tears continue streaming down my face with no sign of stopping.

How the hell could I let him go? Just, how?

My phone buzzes. I don’t even bother glancing toward the bright screen, knowing that it’s probably just another pointless text that’ll be ignored.

But, the device buzzes again, and again, and again, countless times, for minutes on end. I pick it up, preparing to go to my settings to turn off all notifications, but my fingers stop moving, my whole body convulsing as I weep harder. I forgot that my lock screen was a picture of Stiles and I laughing together, mid-kiss, not to mention the notification that I have 29 missed calls from him.

I click on one of the voicemails, immediately regretting it as the familiar sound of his voice echoes around my room, but with a noticeable flaw. I can tell he’s been crying as his voice breaks at certain syllables, his state of utter sadness similar to mine.

“Love, please j-just pick up the pho-phone, so tha-that we can tal-lk it out.”

But, isn’t he better without me? It’s clear that I’m a fuck up from losing him in the first place and I’m also the reason that this preciously perfect boy is crying. So, how could he not be better off without me?

The harsh truth was that Mieczyslaw Stilisnki didn’t need me, and that hurt. More than I’d like to admit honestly.

“Y/N, I’m be-begging you. Pl-lease, I ne-eed you to pick up.”

“You haven’t and-answered anyone. Not even Ly-Lydia. At this point, I jus-just need to make sure you’re ok-okay. Bec-cause if you’re not, god, love, pl-please I can’t do this. Pi-ick up.”

“Fuck it, Y/N, I’m co-coming over. I can’t t-take this anymore.”

By some act of the gods, I glance out the window again and there he is. Roscoe is parked on the street, Stiles sitting in the drivers seat, tapping his fingers against the wheel, one of his nervous ticks.

His warm brown eyes dart up to my window, an expression of relief flooding his features. He raised his phone in my vision, pointing frantically at it. I look down at my own to see his profile picture fill my screen, a phone call coming from him.

I tentatively grasp my phone in my hands, the button to answer tempting me. I look back out the window to see Stiles looking back at me with desperation, biting his bottom lip.

The sight of him pushes me over the edge, my instincts picking up the call and raising the phone to my ear.

“Thank god,” he says exasperatedly. “I’m sorry. Okay? I’m so so-sorry for everythi-thing it’s all my fa-fault. I take it all bac-ck. Just pl-please come back to me, Y/N. I can’t, I can’t do this with-without you, love.”

Teardrops that were previously balancing on my bottom lash line fall with Stiles’ rushed slur of words.

“Y/N? Please say som-something, any-nything,” he sighs breathlessly, resting his head against the steering wheel to his blue jeep, lines creasing his forehead as his brows pull down, looking up at me still.

“I’ll be down in a sec, a second,” I manage to say in coherent words, standing up and walking down the hall, slipping on a pair of shoes and braving the downpour outside.

I run to the passenger’s side door, tugging open the door and quickly sitting down, already feeling drenched from head to toe.

The vehicle stays silent for multiple seconds as we both stare dead ahead, neither of us sure where to begin. Stiles ends up breaking the silence, both of us turning towards each other at the same time as he takes in a sharp breath. He reaches out to latch his hand into mine, and I allow him, feeling at home in his touch.

“I shouldn’t have let that fight gone that far,” he apologizes, reaching up and tucking a strand of my unruly hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek. He looks down, mumbling a profanity under his breath.

“No, don’t blame yo-yourself,” I counter, grasping his chin and guiding his eyes back up to my own. “It’s my fault more than yours, Stiles.”

“No, no, it’s not your fa-ault. You’re not all-allowed to say that either,” he hurriedly argues, shaking his head, his nose bumping into mine due to how close we managed to get.

“Then, it’s neither of our faults,” I conclude, my hand traveling to the back of his neck and playing with the short hairs there. He nods, parting his lips and his eyes darting to mine.

“Can we make a vow to never fight again?” He murmurs softly, wiping away the tears littered across my cheeks.

“Please. I hated being away from you,” I reply, my other hand resting on his black sweatshirt-clad chest.

“Why didn’t you answer any of my calls?” Stiles asks, his brows furrowing.

“I thought you were better off without me,” I confess, pulling my lip in between my teeth.

His eyes widen and he kisses me suddenly, with no warning, our lips pressing with an intensity that neither of us were prepared for. I pull back in surprise and he quickly explains himself. “Y/N, I’m literally nothing without you. How could I be better off without my other half?”

I smile fondly at him, the remnants of tears on both of our faces not reflecting the immense happiness between us at the moment. I swiftly throw my leg over his, straddling him carefully as to not hit the ceiling or the wheel.

I laugh as he smirks cheekily at me, feeling the curve of his smile still as I kiss him. The kisses become more intense, the eagerness from both of us growing. He feverishly pulls me by the waist closer to minimize any distance between his body and mine.

His mouth starts trailing hot kisses down my jawline, then my neck, blowing cool air over it, making me squirm slightly. Stiles starts unbuttoning his flannel currently worn by me, a small smile forming now that the realization that I’m wearing his clothes hits him.

He peers out the window for a moment, tossing the flannel behind his shoulder to the back seat. “It sure is raining out there, huh?” He jokes, trying to annoy me.

“Stiles, we’re kind of in the middle of something here.”

“Oh, yeah, that. The fact that my beautiful as hell girlfriend is making out with me in my jeep didn’t slip my mind whatsoever.”

“Just kiss me, dork.”

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lavender-lotion · 6 years

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WYIB Chp. Two - It'll Be Okay | 3,188k

Read more chapters here! Read on AO3 here!

A sad night for Stiles, followed by a healthy does of Stilinski hugs to make it all better! A little bit of John’s POV and, a surprise from our favorite creeper wolf!

That night Stiles goes home feeling more alone than he has since his father fell into a bottle.

And, it isn’t true. He knows he’s not nearly as alone as he was then - reeling from the loss of his mother and dealing with the abandonment of his father. It was worse then. But it’s easy to compare the hollow feeling in his chest, how tight his ribcage feels - like there’s no way he could possibly contain so much hurt. It still feels like heartbreak.

It’s better when he thinks about his dad. Stiles has him again, has his father firmly in his corner and knows the man isn’t going anywhere. It’s refreshing to be so sure about their relationship after the last year. He was so sure he would loose the man by telling him, but all telling his dad has done was bring them even closer together. Their relationship is once again a foundation of trust, of honesty and it’s perhaps stronger than it has ever been.

There is Peter, too. Stiles was still a little surprised that the wolf was so kind to him, that the man accepted his research without question - not to mention the compliments he has been paid. He hasn’t been around much since Peter came back, in fact has only seen the main a handful of times around town since he resurrected himself.

But Stiles thinks about the way Peter was sitting in the loft, blatantly away from everyone else, and it wasn’t like anybody was making an effort to get him closer. The man may honestly be just as lonely. Stiles isn’t sure about Derek, but he knows Scott - and in turn the rest of the teenaged wolves - wouldn’t be quick to forgive.

Even knowing he has the two men in his corner don't drive out how empty he feels, like something inside of him has been stolen away. It - it was probably the barely there pack bonds he used to have, and although he never noticed them when he had them, he was surely noticing the absence of them.

It - it hurt, left him gasping for breath where he curled up on his bed, immediately cocooned in his blankets. He didn’t bother getting undressed, just fell onto his bed and rolled the blankets tight around his body before curling up, letting himself weep. He felt helpless and weak, tiny and small and beyond insignificant. He couldn’t - couldn't pretend that he and Scott were fine anymore, not after tonight.

He cried until he fell asleep, letting himself get all that he had pushed away for so long come to the surface. He cried for the pack that no longer cared for him, maybe never cared for him. It was a familiar feeling, one he remembers from when he was thirteen and his father was at work again, and he had to make dinner for himself again, and put himself to bed again. He feels like he did when it had been so long since his father last hugged him he could no longer remember the last time it happened had been.

Stiles cried for the friends he thought he had, but for himself, too. Not a day has gone by that he has forgotten what Gerard took from him in the name of the pack, that he has forgotten what he lost. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget and the pack doesn’t even know - have no idea how much Stiles truly gave for them.

He - he is no longer untouched, no longer clean. He feels dirty, sullied by what the man did, by what he took.

And he - he’s not even sure he blames the pack or not. He knows that it would be unfair to do so, especially when he has Gerard to focus his anger on. It’s just, it’s just that they never cared enough to check, never tried to make sure he was okay. It’s that no one came. t’s that Allison was there and know - to some extent - and let it happen. It’s that the man is still alive, and Stiles has no idea how he’s supposed to feel safe knowing that.

But he also doesn’t know what to do about it. He doesn't know what to do without a brother or an Alpha or any friends. So he cried, let himself get out as much of the hurt he was feeling as he could and hope that in the morning he’d be able to breath easier.

Hoped that in the morning, maybe he wouldn't care as much.

When Stiles finally woke, he had one blissful moment in which he was still trying to shake his dream. It had been him and his dad and a Mets game and he woke up still smiling. The grin on his face fell once he was coherent enough to realize he was only wearing one shoe, that his jeans were halfway down his thighs and his eyes still sore from crying.

He stumbled out of his bed - tripping on the comforter and shoving off his jeans. He made it to the washroom but didn’t quite manage to remove his shirt or underwear before stepping under the spray of his shower, chest still feeling too tight to bother undressing. He didn’t - he didn't want to think about it. It was still too fresh, his heart feeling entirely too heavy as he hung his head under the spray.

He can still feel the void where his pack bonds once sat - weak and barely there, but real, and now that they’re gone the loss is jarring. Stiles just feels lucky that he’s a Spark. He couldn’t even imagine what that hollowness would feel if had he been a wolf, or any other kind of pack-orientated were. Couldn't imagine what would have happened if the pack bonds had been stronger, had been more than just fickle things he hardly felt.

It’s the first time he’s been truly thankful for his humanity.

Stiles choked back a sob, letting himself drop in the shower until he was sitting under the stream of water. He pulled off his shirt and one sock, letting the steady thrum of water against the back of his neck lull him into a soft calm. He was hurting, fuck was he hurting. He wasn’t sure how to make it stop, how to lessen the tightness in his chest.

It just hurt, and he knew it was stupid to let a group of people have so much power over him, especially a group who didn’t care for him, who had tossed him aside so carelessly. And before he could talk himself out of it a knock sounded at the door, his father’s soft voice asking if he were alright. It helped to settle him, just a little, to know his dad was right outside the door.

So he held in a whimper, instead standing, wrapping himself in a towel and placing his soaked clothes in the sink. He opened the door slowly, watching as the wall of steam rushed out of the bathroom and towards his father where the man was standing just outside the door. He was in a new uniform, shirt still unbuttoned over his white tank. The man looked tired but had a small smile on his face.

Stiles fell into him.

The first sob was a surprise, because he hadn’t expected to start crying, at least not then. His father just held him close, not even asking what was wrong but offering him support nonetheless. He loved the man for it, for the endless support he had shown since finding about the supernatural. Stiles still has no idea why he ever worried so harshly, how he ever thought his father would be anything other than accepting.

So he let himself cry for another moment, his father smelling like old spice and gun oil and home. It was familiar and beyond comforting, and just the man's scent alone helping to calm him, the soothing circles being rubbed into his back helping to get his breath under control.

Stiles stayed like that longer than he needed to, letting his father's hold bring him comfort. He felt too small, too young. He hadn't needed to be held like this for so long, not since his father stopped drinking and Stiles would have panic attacks about him starting up again, terrified his father would choose to leave him all over.

It was nice, though. His father was warm, still tall enough for Stiles to tuck himself against the man's chest, and if he had to curl his spine a little to place his head under his dad's chin, it was fine. It was about feeling safe, protected. It was exactly what he needed right now, and thankfully his father made no move to stop him.

The Sheriff took it hard. In fact the man was furious, all but shaking in his seat when he heard that his son had been alone on the day of his wife's death. God, if he had known. He never had to worry too much about his son, rather being able to focus on his own grieving on the day. John had always been secure in the knowledge that his son would have Scott, that he would have someone there for him so the man could focus on not drowning his sorrows in liquor. It was easier each year he had been sober, and he was getting better, noticeably so, and yesterday he had even considered coming home from work early - spending the evening with his son.

In the end, he decided against it, knowing that his boy and Scott always curled up together early, Stiles taking something to help him fall asleep and end the day as soon as he could. So hearing this, hearing that his son had been all alone? It had him reaching for his service pistol before he was even fully aware of his actions. He was ready to shoot, to hurt the boy he had considered a second son.

But then to find out that he had not only been forgotten, but had been so carelessly tossed aside had him shaking all over again. He watched his son pour all of himself into research for the pack, ignore his own health, risk it to help those mutts. Watched as his son faded away for months trying to help. Not only was he wearing himself too thin with his research, but John knew how much his magic practice had first taken from the boy.

Not only was Stiles busting his ass in research, contacting other packs and spending hours a night awake and finding out everything he could about this potential threat, but he was pushing himself hard in his training. He was likely pushing himself too far, if the growing darkness under his eyes and the ever increasing hollowness of his cheeks was anything to go by.

It was another thing that Stiles was doing for the pack, something else his boy was doing for those people, people who in the end didn’t even care about his son. John watched for months as Stiles threw away his health, and in the end it had been for nothing.

So really, John was furious. He wanted to do something. He needed to do something, anything to try and right the wrong that was committed against his little boy. Ever since finding out about the supernatural, finding out about how much his boy had been through he’d hated himself. He wasn’t there, wasn’t there for his son again. He left his boy alone, left him to face an entire world that John had never even known about. How was he supposed to deal with something like that?

Hell he was the damn Sheriff, it was his damn job to protect the town and he couldn’t even protect his own family! He had been furious with himself, is still furious with himself over his inability to do his damn job. He’s furious with the pack, with everyone who hurt his son and he is all but bursting with the need to hurt, to act.

But then he looks back at Stiles, at his boy and he’s so close to tears, fighting them off with everything he has that the man crumbles, shoves down his anger and instead pulls the boy close, holds him tight and for a long time, letting each of them gain some semblance of emotional control before letting go.

And then the doorbell rings.

Peter Hale waltzes past Stiles and into his home without so much as a by your leave. The spark isn't exactly sure why that surprises him, since it’s Peter and really one could ask why Peter does anything. Still, Stiles is left looking at the open door with something akin to shock written on his face, hand still fisted around the doorknob from where he had pulled it open just enough for the wolf to slip his way in.

The sound of his dad's laugh shocks him enough that he snaps back to the present, closing the door and slowly making his way down the hall. His dad is leaning against the counter, head thrown back as he chuckles at something the wolf said, the same wolf who seems to be blushing, if the slightest tint high on his cheeks were anything to go by. Stiles decides that seven thirty is far too early to deal with that, and instead zeroes in on the grease stained paper bag sitting on his counter.

“Son, Peter brought coffee and doughnuts,” His dad tells him, the man still smiling and yep, that is totally a blush on Peter’s face.

“I didn’t realize you two knew each other?” Stiles asks, subtly trying to pry while grabbing his coffee. If the glare Peter’s throws his way is anything to go by, he isn’t being subtle.

“Oh we do,” His dad says, grabbing the bag of greasy doughnuts before Stiles can steal them away, “When I was just a deputy and Peter was in his teens, and he used to get in a lot of trouble.”

“Oh now, now, I would hardly say a lot of trouble,” The man draws, flashing a smile to John, “None of the charges ever stuck, after all.”

Which, for some reason makes his dad blush, and that’s about all Stiles can take. He crosses his arms and turns to Peter head on, looking as unamused as he possibly can while asking, “What are you doing here, Peter?”

“Well I came by to check on you,” He answers, continuing at the quirk of Stiles’ brow, “No, really. You are the closest thing I have to pack, Stiles, and I intend to make sure our bond stays strong.”

Stiles calms at that, sending the man a small smile and taking the offered coffee, moaning at the sweetness of his usual order, “I also wanted to compliment your work, Stiles. Your research was wonderful, and I can only imagine how much you went through to get it.”

Stiles flushes at that, grinning happily even as his dad mutters ‘far too much’. He sends the man a glare, because yeah, now he knows that he put way too much energy into a pack that didn’t deserve it, but that doesn’t mean he felt like that at the time and his father's ‘subtle’ digs are really only just bringing up the hurt feelings that Stiles is trying to ignore. He settles at the islands counter, sitting in the bar stool next to Peter.

“How did you get all of it?” The wolf asks, and Stiles just sighs at first.

“Let’s just say it was a lot of fucking work,” Stiles mutters, letting his spark hum under his skin, pulling it a little closer to the surface, sucking up the comfort that the action brings, “I have contacted so many packs I couldn’t even tell you the number. I have no idea how many Alpha’s I have spoken to in the last month. I took everything they told me, cross checked everything and put it all together. If a certain piece of information didn’t check out at least three times I didn’t trust it.”

Peter nods, his eyebrows drawn together as he considers, “Alright, but there is information in there that werewolves wouldn’t have. There are four pages detailing how the wolves fight in such bland, technical terms that there is no way the information could have came from a wolf.”

“I didn’t just talk to wolves,” Stiles mutters, breathing out, “I talked to hunters, other supernaturals. Not only that, but I also talked to a few Witches, got in contact with some old and established covens.”

“Wait, what’s this about other witches? I thought you said letting anyone know about your magic could be dangerous?” John asks, leaning forward on the counter and raising a brow.

“Yeah, and I didn’t. C’mon dad, you didn’t think I was selling so many extra essays for lunch money?”

“Stiles, did yo-”

“Did you buy information from a Witch coven?” Peter all but screeches, reeling back in his chair as if the topic actually burns him. And really, all Stiles can do is nod.

He knows it could have been bad, alright. He’s read books and heard stories about Witch covens. They aren’t exactly - nice. They don’t do favours, they don't help out. Hell, often times they don’t even communicate with the supernatural community as a whole. Witches are often incredibly solitary beings, always on their own, save for their coven.

And then there’s covens themselves. Not things to get mixed up with, that’s for damn sure. They’re dangerous and selfish and are usually just about power. Witches on their own, usually no problem. Witches in a coven, watch the fuck out.

“You, my dear boy, are wonderfully reckless,” Peter says, squeezing the back of the boy’s neck before sipping his coffee, “I am absolutely impressed.”

Stiles smiles slightly, flushing a little under the praise, still grinning when he catches the time. If he doesn’t head for school soon he'll be late, and he’s not about to show any bit of weakness to his old pack. So instead he bounces to his seat, stealing the greasy bag of doughnuts from in front of his dad as he presses a kiss to the man's cheek, stopping at Peter and letting the wolf rub his chin against Stiles neck, Stiles nuzzling the top of Peter’s head in response.

Reluctantly he walks out of the house, leaving his dad alone with Peter to continue their, reminiscing - since apparently they’re old friends? With an incredibly put upon sigh, one that Peter surely would have been able to hear all the way inside, Stiles climbs into the front seat of his jeep, letting his head rest on the steering wheel for a moment. He was fine, he could do this. If the pack didn’t want him anymore, then fuck them.

Throwing his jeep in reverse, Stiles pulls out of his driveway, letting out another long suffering sigh when he realizes he forgot his coffee.

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anxiousstark · 4 years

Text

S2 11 | Battleplan

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 1912.

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood, murder, dead body, swearing (always).

A/N: This is kind of a filler. Not too long. Bruh, LAST CHAPTER OF SEASON 2.

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

Things were complicated. Melissa wasn't talking to Scott nor me, she witnessed me flashing my eyes, and she saw Scott as a werewolf.

When Matt had dragged my unconscious body to one of the rooms where almost everyone was, I woke up for a couple of seconds, Stiles was unconscious on the floor, and Mr. Stilisnki had been hit on the head, falling to the ground. Then, the Kanima appeared, I found strength from somewhere deep inside me when I saw that he was planning to attack Melissa. I took the arrow out of my belly, the pain made my eyes flash, and while I stabbed the Kanima on the back with the same arrow, my eyes met Melissa's.

Stiles was receiving help. I felt bad because a couple of days before I had promised to protect his father, which I wasn't able to do. Not only that, but he was also ignoring me.

I was sitting on the bleachers, a lacrosse game would take place in a couple of minutes. I noticed Stiles and Scott talking to each other, and decided to go up to them. "Hey," I whispered, hands inside the pockets of my jacket, it was freezing. Scott glanced up, offering me a little smile. However, the other boy continued talking without acknowledging me.

"It's going to be bad, isn't it? I mean, like people screaming, running for their lives, blood, killing, maiming kind of bad?" His eyes were teary, legs bouncing up and down. "Scott, the other night seeing my dad get hit over the head by Matt, you know, while I'm just lying there and I can't even move, it just-. I want to help, you know, but I can't do the things that you can do. I can't-."

"It's okay."

Stiles shook his head. "We're losing, dude."

We were losing. We were losing people, and maybe we were losing ourselves on the way.

"The hell are you talking about?" Coach appeared from behind them, and even though I saw him coming near, I got startled. I was jumpy. "Game hasn't even started. Now put on your helmet and get out there. You're in for Greenberg."

"What? What happened to Greenberg?" He began looking around.

"What happened to Greenberg? He sucks. You suck slightly less."

"I'm playing? On the field? With the team?"

"Yes, unless you'd rather play with yourself."

"I already did that today, twice." I almost chuckled.

"Get the hell out there!"

The hazel-eyed boy restlessly grabbed all of his things. Before he could walk to the field, I stopped him, my hand clutching his jersey. "Stiles, I-"

"I can't talk," He didn't even glance at me. "This is important for me." Wasn't I?

"Yeah," I whispered, but he was already running to the field. "Good luck," I muttered. I heard Scott calling my name, but I just offered him a smile as he did before.

I went back to the bleachers, deciding to sit next to Melissa, but she quickly waved Lydia over. I didn't think much about it, or at least I tried not to while I sat next to Noah. His arm went around my shoulder as he kissed my forehead. For a moment, I thought I would break down. Noah couldn't help but scream for Stiles when his son walked to the field.

Things got even more complicated. First, Isaac came to the game, sitting down next to Scott. They both seemed to be friends now. Then, I noticed that Gerard was wickedly smiling while peering at Scott. Something was going on. Next, Jackson took a player to the ground, inducing him into unconsciousness. Coach asked Scott to play, and Melissa suspected that something more was going on, something more than just a lacrosse game. But then Scott disappeared while Coach screamed for him to come back.

I got up from the bleachers, determined to search for him even though my wound was fresh, and still hurting. But then everyone on the bleachers started cheering up, Stiles had scored. And another one. Then, again. The team hugged each other, congratulating. Stiles glanced at the bleachers, his eyes met mine. I was clapping, proud of him, grinning widely. He beamed back, but just for a couple of seconds as he seemed to realize something, then the smile wasn't for me, it was for Lydia Martin. And I suppose that is how everything should be.

The buzzer sounded, indicating the end of the game and our victory. The excitement didn't last. The lights went out, and someone screamed. Everything seemed to slow down. People falling to the ground, screams, bumping into others, running, fear. I made sure that Mr. Stilisnki was fine, running to the field, searching for Stiles. But I tripped, falling to the ground. I tripped over someone just lying there. I tripped over Jackson's unconscious body.

"Jackson? What's happened to Jackson?" Lydia's terrified voice sounded all over. "Jackson! Jackson! Jackson, what's happening?" She kneeled on the floor, next to him. I quickly got into the same position as her, grasping her arms, doing my best to calm her down.

"Can we get a medic over here? We're gonna need a medic!"

Melissa came running to us, putting her head over his chest. "He's not breathing. No pulse." She started pressing his chest, trying to bring him back. "Get down here." She glanced at Lydia. "Get down here and hold his head. Tilt it up."

"Stiles?" I whispered to myself, running to all the lacrosse players, looking at them in hopes of finding a familiar pair of hazel eyes.

"Where's Stiles? W-where's my son? Where's Stiles? Where's Stiles? Where's Stiles? Where the hell is my son?"

The last hours were horrible. I spent them being embraced by Scott, reassuring each other, convincing each other that Stiles Stilisnki was perfectly safe.

Then...

I ran with all my strength, the wound on my stomach was burning, and it was probably bleeding as Melissa told me not to force myself. But I couldn't help it. Stiles was back. Stiles was in his house.

"You came running?" Mr. Stilisnki's eyes were wide open after he opened the front door, letting me come inside the Stilisnki household. I nodded my head frantically, glancing around. "He is upstairs." He smiled. I grinned, running towards the steps until his voice stopped me. "Lydia is there too."

"Uhm," I turned around. "C-can I wait here until she comes down?" He seemed confused. "I don't want to interrupt their, uhm, talk." He shook his head while smirking, muttering something under his breath. "Want something to drink?" I approved, following him to the kitchen, and sitting down on a chair. "How are you feeling?" He handed me a cup.

I fiddled with it, feeling the warmth go through my hands. "I did look inside the backpack." He waited for me to go on. "Some pictures of famous people she admired, and a picture of her with the friend who took care of me."

"No picture of you."

I sadly smiled, glad that I didn't have to say so myself. "Love," I sighed. "It's a strange thing. Mr. Stilisnki," He glared at me. "I mean Noah," I laughed while continuing. "How can I trust people when the ones who should teach me about it weren't even there?" My voice cracked. "Now, I'm terrified. I don't want to get too close because something bad could happen."

"Or something beautiful," His hands grabbed mine, thumb rubbing circles on the back of my hand. "Love feels good and hurts so bad, that doesn't mean everything will be wrong. There will be joyful and sorrowful moments. You need to go through all of them."

"If they ta-."

"Nobody is going to take you away, okay?" He softly whispered. "I will take care of that."

"Uhm," I heard someone, turning around to see Lydia. I smiled at her, although I don't think it looked like an honest one. "I'm already leaving," She glanced at the older Stilisnki. "Thank you for letting me stop by."

After we heard the door close, he nudged me. "Go."

I tried to calm my nerves while breathing deeply. I lightly knocked on the door, and when I heard his voice my stomach fluttered. However, I didn't like what I had in front of me. His cheek was bruised, a large bruise all over it, and his lower lip was busted.

My hands grabbed his neck, moving his head to the other side so I could examine his wounds. "Who did this?" He didn't reply, eyes meeting mine just for a couple of seconds. "Who did this, Stiles? I swear to god I will kill whoeve-."

"That's your problem." He pulled my hands off him. I studied his body posture, he was anxious and mad. "You don't know what you are, but you still throw yourself into trouble. A pepper spray?" Why was he talking now about the other day? "Pepper spray against a Kanima? Got beaten and shot, you still ran your mouth and insulted Matt which made him hit you, even while you were unconscious." His lower lip trembled. "And I couldn't do anything about it because I was paralyzed!"

"I would do it again."

"See, that's the problem. Y-you don't care about getting hurt." He stepped closer to me. This time, his eyes didn't leave mine. "But you know how I'll feel? I'll be devastated. And if you die, I will literally go out of my fucking mind." His eyes were teary, and at this point, mines were too. "You see, death doesn't happen to you, Y/N. It happens to everyone around you, okay? To all the people left standing at your funeral, trying to figure out how they're gonna live the rest of their lives now without you in it? Huh?" He was screaming now. "And look at my face, huh? Come on, you actually think this was meant to hurt me?" I flinched a little, not liking when people raised their voices. "Um- I'm so sorry." He brought me closer to him, hiding his face on my neck. "I missed you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry"

"Is this why you ignored me on the field?" I embraced him tightly, terrified that he would disappear. I felt him nod. "Stiles, I would do anything for you like I know you would do anything for me." I felt him nod his head, bringing me even closer to his body.

Our eyes met. Arms still tight around each other. His eyes went from my eyes to my lips. He got closer, head inclined to the right side, getting closer.

"Y/N, wanna have dinner here?" We jumped apart. Warm invading our faces. Stiles blushing quite hard. "Oh, did I- does Chinese sound good?" We both nodded, shyly smiling as he closed the door behind him.

I found the strength to turn around and glance at him when I heard a faint melody resonating through his room. He had moved closer to his computer, playing the song. My eyebrows were furrowed, waiting for him to explain what was going on. "What is going on?" I whispered, not having the strength to talk louder.

He beamed at me. "I want to slow dance like we did at the dance." He came closer, asking for permission to place his hands on my waist. Of course, I nodded my head as my hands travelled from his chest to his shoulders, resting there. "But just with you."

People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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goddamnblazeinthedark · 3 years

Text

reputation. (m) {chapter one: ready for it?}

pairing: Stiles Stilisnki/ Jackson Whittemore

genre warning: fanfiction (teen wolf) ; Teen (contains sex and cursing)

words: 1,146 words

summary: a secret relationship at the pack meeting.

a/n: the full story is out on ao3, but wanted to post on tumblr for people who use it more. new chapter on tumblr every Wednesday!

I-I-I see how this is gon' go Touch me and you'll never be alone I-Island breeze and lights down low No one has to know In the middle of the night, in my dreams You should see the things we do, baby In the middle of the night, in my dreams I know I'm gonna be with you So I take my time Are you ready for it?

Stiles sat on the sofa in the loft, nestled in the middle between Scott and Liam. Derek and Peter sat across from them, Jackson sitting in the chair with Lydia on his lap, while Isaac sat on the floor. Nothing had happened in the town, it had been quiet and it was a welcomed change for their senior year. Everything supernatural just took a break, so now the pack meetings had become just a way to check in each week and eat pizza. No one minded the change, in fact it was very welcomed. Stiles looked up for a moment as he reached for another slice, stealing a quick glance at Jackson. Lydia was rubbing his arm, and he was smiling. Looking in on meeting, everything looked so picture perfect. Like someone had cut it out of dough but nothing was what it seemed. Jackson and Stiles were keeping a secret from the others, no one knew they would sneak away to be alone with each other. Making out in the woods or various places without the others around. They made sure to always take precautions when they did this. They both knew they would smell Jackson on Stiles, so they always made sure to be seen together doing something stupid. That way it made sense for Jackson's scent on him. They had been doing this for two years and no one had caught on. Sometimes Stiles felt guilty lying. Lying to Stiles that he liked Lydia when he would catch him staring at her and Jackson together. He felt guilty that they were lying to Lydia; she knew nothing. Stiles compensated this guilt by saying they could only kiss, anything more than that would be wrong. That didn't bother Jackson because he was still having sex with Lydia. There was never a case of blue balls, least for Jackson.

"What about a group limo?" asked Lydia, breaking Stiles out of his thought, taking a bite of the pizza.

"That could be fun, I guess. I still have no one to go with." Said Scott, Derek rolled his eyes as his uncle followed suit. They hated when the conversation turned into a high school trope and would excuse themselves to go do something else but this time they stayed.

"I am sure, Stiles will be your date." Said Peter with a smirk, Isaac let out a laugh from the floor.

"Scott hasn't asked me. I would need a big promposal to go with him." Said Stiles sarcastically, getting a smirk from Jackson from behind Lydia's back, literally.

"I am sure I will find someone before there will be any of that." Said Scott.

"Your loss, Scotty Boy." Said Stiles taking another bite of his pizza.

"We can still go in a limo together, even if not all of us have dates." Said Lydia, Jackson shrugged.

"Why not?" Jackson said nonchalantly, but there was a tug inside of him that wanted Stiles beside him in the limo, but he wouldn't say that out loud.

"Excuse me." Said, Stiles, as he stood up and made his way down the hall towards the bathroom. Talk about the prom had been making him feel odd lately. He didn't think about it like some kind of rite of passage. Maybe the issue was that he couldn't go with whom he wanted to or the fact that he wasn't out to anyone besides Jackson, though neither of them had ever labeled themselves. Stiles was pretty sure that he was fully gay and Jackson was bisexual, but those words never left either of their mouths. It was as unspoken as their relationship. Stiles zipped up his pants and flushed the toilet before making his way to the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror, not even sure why he was doing it but it always felt like a pull to look into one when you are alone and in front of one. He dried his hands off before opening the door to find Jackson pressed against the wall beside the door, Stiles looked to see everyone else was in the living room and out of vision range.

"What are you doing?" asked Stiles curiously, moving in front of him.

"Waiting to use the bathroom and doing this." Said Jackson bringing his body into Stiles' space and kissing him hard on the lips. Stiles kissed back, placing his hand on either side of the wall behind Jackson, as the other's tongue slid past his clothes lips. Stiles allowed his tongue to move against Jackson's tasting the familiar taste. His cock stirred in his jeans, which he pressed against Jackson's crotch, feeling the same hormonal side effect.

"What are you doing after the meeting? Lydia?" asked Stiles causing a chuckle to escape from Jackson's full lips.

"Depends, you have something better in mind, Stilinski?" asked Jackson, Stiles shrugged and licked his lips.

"My house, usual time?"

"Sure, why not." Said Jackson kissing him again, before moving into the bathroom quickly. Stiles was unsure why but 20 seconds later, Scott rounded the corner.

"Figured Jackson would be out by now." Said Scott standing beside Stiles.

"I just got out like five seconds ago and he went in. So still no prom date? I thought you were going to ask Kira." Said Stiles giving his friend a curiously glace.

"Haven't worked up the nerve yet, even werewolves get nervous"

"Well, as a true alpha, you would think you would be impervious to butterflies in your stomach"

"Still a teenager, Stiles," Said Scott, raising a brow for a moment, "were you looking at porn in the bathroom?"

"What? Why?" asked Stiles his heart racing.

"Dude, you reek of arousal."

"Maybe you just turn me on, Scott. You are the hot girl, remember." Said Stiles with a chuckle as he made his way back to the living room. He didn't need to risk Scott smelling anything else on him. Lucky for him, Scott knew about his Tumblr porn habits so he wouldn't second-guess Stiles being turned on by it. Even if the reason he was so turned on was Jackson. All the wolves in the living room made a face when Stiles walked in, Derek rolled his eyes, while Peter, Isaac, and Liam just laughed and shook their head. That was enough to fully get the feelings of horniness to leave his body. Stiles willed himself not to think about the meeting he had with Jackson later tonight, even if the thought kept trying to slip inside of his mind.

#STACKSON #stackson fanfic #stiles stilinski #Jackson Whittemore #canon divergence #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction

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writingismymuseuc · 3 years

Text

Dear Jeff Davis,

As a 10th year anniversary gift, the teen wolf fandom would like to afford you the opportunity to redo the last episode. We, in return, will consider your first attempt at at the ending as a ‘pilot’ finale.

Sincerely,

Fan with fulfillment issues.

P.S. Don’t forget Isaac this time.

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anxiousstark · 4 years

Text

S3 01 | Tattoo

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 1871

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood, murder, dead body, swearing (always).

A/N: SEASON 3 HERE WE COME! Double update this week!

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

Summer was the greatest thing that happened to us, and without any doubt, the best thing that had happened to me since I arrived at Beacon Hills. Our summer was full of peace, which is what we needed. No creatures were trying to kill us or other people. We were safe, and even though we couldn't avoid being a little apprehensive, we knew that we were finally safe.

Scott, Melissa and I were able to sit down together, explaining to her everything that had happened. We were terrified because it wasn't easy to explain to someone you loved that danger followed you. After all, we weren't humans anymore. That night we told her everything. Melissa got teary, feeling guilty for not being able to help or do anything for us. We told her that we were fine, we would be fine.

During this peaceful holiday, I was able to get closer to both boys. Scott and I didn't throw ourselves at each other's throats. Of course, there was a long way to walk. We still needed to get used to everything. The hazel-eyed boy and I developed a new habit during summer, whenever we felt anxious we seemed to notice, bodies being attracted to each other, hands interlocking, hoping to give the comfort we sought. Holding hands became a soothing gesture between us. We did it unconsciously.

"Hey, Scott, sure you don't want something like this?" Stiles grabbed a folder, holding it up, showing it to the other boy. I walked closer to him, excited to see what was he holding, knowing Stiles, something that would make me snicker. "Too soon? Yeah." Of course, I snickered when I noticed that he was showing Scott the drawing of a beast that looked like the Kanima. Melissa allowed him to get a tattoo.

For what we got to know, Matt was dead. We still weren't sure what that would mean for Jackson. But we had promised ourselves that we wouldn't get into supernatural trouble during summertime. However, tomorrow was our first day back to class, which meant that the supernatural would come back to form part of our lives.

"I don't know, man, are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent, you know?" I walked around the room, admiring the drawings decorating the walls.

"I'm not changing my mind." Scott and I got closer especially at night. One night I woke up after having a nightmare where I saw my mother. It seemed like the other McCall was also having a nightmare, which ended in both of us, sleeping on his bed, and talking about the stuff that worried us. That night Scott McCall cried, he missed Allion, but he couldn't ignore everything that had happened.

"Okay, but why two bands?"

Scott shrugged, stating that he just liked it. "But don't you think your first tattoo should have some sort of meaning, you know, or something?"

"Getting a tattoo means something."

Stiles had a small grin on his face, ready to inform Scott that wasn't the point. But the tattoo artist interrupted him. "He's right, tattooing goes back thousands of years. The Tahitian word 'tatua' means 'to leave a mark.' Like a rite of passage."

"Yeah, you see? He gets it."

"He's covered in tattoos, Scott, literally."

"Okay, you ready? You ain't got any problems with needles, do you?"

"Nope." Scott offered me a smile, ready to get the tattoo he has been asking for so long.

The boy standing next to me scratched his chin. "I tend to get a little squeamish though, so..." There was no time to analyze the situation. Stiles was lying on the floor, an uncomfortable posture making the circumstances even funnier.

I sat on the passenger seat on Stiles's Jeep. Scott had bought a bike with the money he had gained while working for Deaton in the clinic. So now, every day, I was driven to class by the hazel-eyed boy.

"Don't you think it was strange?" He asked me again as I spaced out. "It seems like something supernatural to me. Exactly when we go back to class." After Scott's tattoo, we were ready to go home and have dinner together. My half-brother's happiness due to the tattoo didn't last for long as an excruciating pain made him take the bandages off, realizing the tattoo had disappeared. Maybe we should have taken into account that he was a werewolf, and he healed faster. A tattoo was an open wound.

On our way home, we saw Lydia's car, and not to anyone's surprise, she was with Allison. A deer hit the front of their car, making us run to them to check if they were hurt. Scott was convinced that the deer was terrified.

"I suppose, Stiles." I sighed, running my hands through my hair.

"Hey," He glanced at me for a second, quickly looking back to the road ahead of him. "You alright?" His hand ended up resting on top of my hand, which was resting on my thigh.

"I feel like so many bad things are going to happen again." I lamented. "We still don't know anything about me. There are obstacles everywhere."

"I told you. We will find answers, okay?" He squeezed my hand. To be honest, some nights during summer were spent searching for every scaly creature that exists in the supernatural world. But without knowing what I could do, we couldn't conclude anything. When we arrived at school, we walked directly to our classroom.

Stiles and I glanced at each other when only a couple of minutes into the lecture, Scott had to leave class. My mind went to the worst scenario case, thinking that maybe Melissa was in danger. Stilisnki seemed to notice my change of behaviour, extending his hand, offering me to grab it. I did.

He rested back on his chair, sighing, tired from doing whatever the teacher has ordered us to do. "Hey, Lydia. What is that?" When I followed his gaze, I noticed a bandage around the pretty strawberry blonde girl's ankle. "Is that from the accident?"

"No. Prada bit me."

"Your dog?" I asked. Stiles's other hand extended forward, forbidding me from biting my pen, a nervous habit I didn't notice I was doing.

"No, my designer handbag. Yes, my dog." She replied as if I was stupid, which made me grumble a little while Stiles smiled at my reaction.

"Has it ever bitten you before?" Lydia shook her head. "Okay. What if it's, like, the same thing as the deer? You know, like, how animals start acting weird right before an earthquake or something?"

"Meaning what? There's gonna be an earthquake?"

"Or something. I just... maybe it means something's coming. Something bad." Stiles was completely right. Something was wrong, I felt it.

"It was a deer and a dog. What's that thing you say about threes? Once, twice..." Her words were interrupted when something hit the window, leaving a trail of blood. Every student was interrupted form their concentration, glancing at the window. Jennifer, our teacher, walked towards it. Crows, so many crows were coming towards us. Another one hit the window, and then another, and another.

"S-Stiles..." I whispered, my hand rapidly clutching his shirt between my fingers. The windows couldn't resist so many crows hitting it. They ended up being shattered, thousand of crows getting inside the classroom.

I quickly grabbed Lydia as she seemed to be shocked enough to react, covering her head with my arms. I felt someone doing the same thing for me. Stiles's back pressed tightly against mine, the inside of his thighs pressed against the outside of mines. His arms covering my face after he saw that I was hit by a couple of enraged crows.

Of course, the cops had been called. They were now asking around, trying to understand what was going on. However, this was something out of their reach.

"You alright?" Stiles's hands grabbed my cheeks, lightly moving my head from side to side, making sure that there wasn't any wound or scratch.

"You?" My fingers grasped a feather that seemed to be stuck in his hair, pulling it out. He nodded, sighing in relief, taking me into his arms. That is another habit we had developed during the summer.

"Guys," Mr. Stilisnki came closer to us, his eyes focusing on our intertwined hands. "No more class for today, okay?" He offered us a smile. "Go back home, alright? Make sure you guys are in a safe place." We both nodded.

"Yeah, I see it. It's two bands, right? What does it mean?"

"I don't know. It's just something I traced with my fingers."

"Why is this so important to you? Do you know what the word 'tattoo' means?"

"To mark something." Stiles crossed his arms while letting Derek know as if he didn't know already. He looked so proud of himself.

"Well, that's in Tahitian. In Samoan, it means 'open wound'. I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned 18. I always wanted one. I just decided to get it now, to make it kind of a reward."

"For what?"

"For not calling or texting Allison all summer. Even when I really wanted to, even when it was so hard not to sometimes. I was trying to give her the space she wants. Goin' four months later, it still hurts. It still feels like a, uh..."

"Like an open wound." Stiles finished for him. I sniffed, wiping my wet cheeks. I could feel a pair of eyes on me. "Wait, are you crying?"

I sobbed even harder when the boy standing next to me noticed that I was weeping. "I don't know why," I continued cleaning my face. "I just got emotional." The three boys grinned, Stiles embracing me while softly laughing.

"The pain's gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt." Derek let him know, but that wasn't going to scare Scott.

Fire. He was going to burn Scott. "Oh, wow. That's a... that's a lot for me. So I'm gonna take that as my cue. I'm just gonna wait outside." He tried to leave, and I tried to follow him, but Derek wasn't having any of it when he got up, grabbing us from the back of our shirts, and telling us to hold Scott down.

When we were leaving Derek's house after holding Scott down, who cried loudly, until he passed out. The McCall boy couldn't help but grin and be excited about his first tattoo.

"Well, it looks pretty damn permanent now." Stiles examined it, hands deep down in his pockets.

"Yeah. I kind of needed something permanent. Everything that's happened to us... everything just changes so fast." I sighed, linking my arms with both boys, who offered me a smile. "Everything's so, uh... Ephemeral."

"Studying for the psats?"

"Yep."

"Nice."

Scott opened the front door, but rare enough, he examined it while rubbing his fingers against the wood. "You painted the door. Why'd you paint the door?" He asked, looking back at Derek.

"Go home, Scott."

"Hey," I intervened. Scott's breath got quicker, scratching the paint off the door. "What is going on, Scott?" There was a symbol on the door.

People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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anxiousstark · 4 years

Text

S2 01 | Omega

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 1802

Warnings: Mentions of dead bodies, injuries, blood, angst, swearing (always).

"Seriously? Come-" Stiles started hitting the spending machine that was placed in one of the halls at the hospital. He has spent all weekend waiting to be able to see if Lydia was feeling any better. He also stopped at the McCall house a couple of times, asking about my stitches.

He pressed his face against the spending machine, trying to shake it, so the snack he paid for would fall as it got stuck. I chuckled, his attention going back at me. "I'm gonna go check on Lydia. Don't break the machine, Stilinski." I pointed my finger at him. I had decided to stay at the hospital with Stiles. Someone had to take care of him while he was taking care of someone else.

I entered the room she was assigned, but there was no hint of Lydia laying down on her bed. I heard the water running and decided to stay outside the bathroom, giving her space. But also ready to go inside if her injury started throbbing. I quietly waited, chewing on my lower lip.

I heard her cough and decided to get closer to the bathroom door. "Lydia? Uhm, it's me Y/N." I expected an answer that never happened. I heard the water being splashed, she was whining.

"Lydia? Do you need help?" Again, no answer. I settled to go inside. The curtain was moving while her whimpers got louder. "Lydia!" I slid it. The water was red due to her wound. I followed her gaze, noticing that there was hair, lots of hair. Someone or something was messing with her mind.

I grabbed her arm. She glanced at me, eyes full of tears. "It's okay," I whispered, grabbing a towel to cover her naked and freezing body. "There's nothing." Or so I thought. Two bloody hands came out of the bloody water, one grabbed Lydia's right leg while the other pulled me in. I could hear Lydia's screams, even though my head was under the dirty water. The hand was grabbing me forcefully, not letting me go. "Breathe." A wicked voice echoed inside my head.

When the hand let me go, I didn't have time to properly breathe. Lydia was climbing out of the window, completely naked. "Lydia, wait!" I followed her.

Noah Stilisnki studied Lydia's dad, hoping that he would give a better description of his one and only daughter.

Stiles nervously interrupted their conversation. "Y/N is (y/h), her eye color is (e/c), skin color is (s/c). Her hair is (h/l) and (h/c)." He didn't take a breath. "Lydia is 5'3", green eyes, fair-skinned, and her hair is actually strawberry blonde." Noah stared at his son. He would expect him to know all that about Lydia as he has had a crush on her for so many years. But he was astonished at him noticing Y/N in the same way he noticed the Martin girl. "Also, black fitted jeans, black boots, and a bumblebee yellow hoodie. It's my favorite I've seen on her." Stiles gazed at his father. "That is what Y/N was wearing. Ahm, her hair was down, it's always down."

"Is that right?" Stiles nodded. The sheriff grabbed the back of his son's neck, moving him away from Melissa and Lydia's dad. "What the hell are you still doing here?"

"Um, providing moral support?"

"Uh-huh. How 'bout you provide your ass back home, where you should be."

Stiles bit his lower lip, glancing at his dad from the side of his eye. "Okay, I can do that too." A little sigh escaped from his mouth.

"We're gonna find her, so don't worry."

"Her?" Stiles stopped. His father looked at him, puzzled. "You said 'her'? Referring to who? To Lydia?" His dad nodded his head, not realizing what his son was trying to say. "What about Y/N? She is also gone. You need to find her too because-"

"Stiles." He intervened. "Of course, we are gonna find both girls." Of course, they were going to do so. Noah has used 'her' because he thought Stiles's mind was worried about Lydia. That kid could be a little blind when Lydia Martin was near-by. "We will find them."

Stiles got into his jeep, holding Lydia's hospital gown tightly between his fingers. Closing the driver's door, he extended his arm to hand Scott the gown. It was so he could have Lydia's scent and find her. He looked at his wrist, taking off the hair tie. "It's from your sister." He coughed. "She left it here the day we saw Jackson with Chris Argent. I intended to give it back to her, but I forgot." He looked at Scott deeply in the eyes.

"She isn't my sister," Scott whispered, even though he felt like it wasn't the most designated situation to say something like that. "And, she lives in my house so I have her clothes there." He desired to let him know that he didn't need to give the hair tie to him. "We will find them, Stiles." He grabbed his friends' arm. "I'm not gonna let anyone hurt Lydia. Not again." The Hazel-eyed boy got mad. Why was everyone centering in Lydia? He wanted BOTH girls to be found. Not just Lydia, but Y/N too. He still needed to thank her for saving him from Peter Hale, and he wanted to apologize again for what happened at the dance.

Stiles turned the engine of the jeep on but was stopped when he saw Allison at the front.

"What are you doing here? Someone's gonna see us." Scott asked his girlfriend when she got closer to the window.

"I don't care. She is my best friend, and we need to find her before they do." She referred to Lydia, again. Stiles tried not to jump and say something that could sound rude. "And I don't know much about Y/N, but I care about her too."

"I can find them before the cops can."

"How about before my father does?"

"He knows?" Stiles was getting even more anxious. Then, he remembered that Chris Argent was the one that hit Y/N's head the night of the dance. That asshole gave her seven stitches. He also knew that Chris Argent wanted to hunt Y/N.

"Yeah. I just saw him and three other guys leave my house in two SUVs."

"Search party."

"It's more like a hunting party."

"Get in," Scott called out to her.

"All right, but if both of them are turning, would they actually kill them?" He wasn't sure if Lydia would turn, but he knew she was something. The same thing was happening with Y/N.

"I don't know. They won't tell me anything. Okay, all they say is, 'We'll talk after Kate's funeral when the others get here.'"

"What others?"

"I don't know, they won't tell me that yet."

"Okay, your family's got some serious communication issues to work on." He screamed the following words. "Scott, are we going the right way?"

Scott's face was out of the window, trying to smell Lydia and Y/N's scent. "Take the next right!"

"Hey, you know, maybe they're just here for the funeral. I mean - what if they're the non-hunting side of the family? There could be non-hunting Argents. It's possible, right?" Stiles was hiding behind a statue in the cemetery, Scott by his side. Both of them were trying not to be seen by the Argent family who was mourning the death of one of their members. Of one of their killers.

"I know what they are. They're reinforcements."

Both of them were shocked when they were grabbed by their collars. Scott was a wolf, but nobody could hear Noah Stilisnki capturing his prey. "Ah. The two of you. Unbelievable. Pick up my tie." He told Stiles, teeth clenched against each other.

"Got it. Sorry. I know, I'm supposed to ask."

Both of them were now sitting on the back seat of the sheriff's car. "1-5 Adam." The radio they used to communicate with each other emitted the sound of another agent.

"I didn't copy that. Did you say 4-1-5, Adam?"

"Disturbance in a car." The hazel-eyed-boy whispered to his friend.

"They were taking a heart attack victim - D.O.A. But on the way to the hospital, something hit 'em." After Noah asked if the ambulance was hit, the man continued giving information about the events that had occurred. "Copy that. I'm standing in front of it right now. Something got in the back. There's blood everywhere. And I mean everywhere."

"All right, unit 4, what's your 20?"

"Route 5 and post. I swear, I've never seen anything like this."

"All right, take it easy. I'm on my way. Now, as for you two-" When he turned around, the doors were open and both teenage boys had disappeared from the backseat of the car.

"Just-" Stiles tried to give a reasonable answer to his father. Of course, after hearing him talk with one of his coworkers on the radio, he had to come to the place himself. He needed to know if one of the girls had been the one transforming and hitting the ambulance. To his surprise, there was a man inside the vehicle, everything full of blood. Stiles gazed towards the bushes as he thought he had seen something move. "Lydia? Lydia? Lydia!"

Lydia wasn't naked. She was wearing a bumblebee yellow hoodie. He knew that hoodie. He knew that it was the one that Y/N was wearing before disappearing.

Noah paced gradually towards Lydia as she seemed to be in shock, her hair a complete mess. However, Stiles ran to her. "Lydia, are you okay? Where is Y/N?" His hands were delicately settled on her shoulders.

"She needs help." Lydia was quivering uncontrollably. The hoodie she was wearing was wet, Stiles was hoping that Y/N gave it to her so she wasn't naked. "Y/N needs help. We all need."

The sheriff put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Stiles, let the paramedics check her."

Said boy was going to disrupt his father when Lydia pointed to the bush behind her. Noah didn't let his son take another step forward, he slowly got closer to the bush that a couple of seconds ago Lydia Martin had pointed. He didn't expect what he saw. "We need paramedics here too. Fast!" A group of paramedics started operating towards the bush, while one of them took Lydia to one of the ambulances to make sure she was safe.

Stiles walked to the bush, he tried to see what was going on but the paramedics were making it difficult for him. Until he saw Y/N unconscious. Nose and ears bleeding.

What Stiles didn't know is that someone else in the other part of Beacon Hills was trying to sleep. Body full of sweat. Napkins were full of blood.

Jackson Whittemore.

People in black means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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anxiousstark · 4 years

Text

S2 09 | Party Guessed

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 2681

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, murder, drugs, swearing (always).

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

I kneeled on the floor, moving my bedsheets so I could glance under my bed. The black backpack stared back at me, a little of dust throughout it. I grabbed it, taking it out, examining it for a couple of minutes. I still couldn't do it. I couldn't open it. At least, not on my own.

I placed it over my shoulder, walking out of my room. Strolling past two more doors, I witnessed Scott laying down on his bed. Derek had asked him to go back home and rest. It was difficult for him to do that, he wanted to stay, and go after the Kanima. He was a wolf so he could heal faster, but physical pain and emotional pain were two different things.

I knocked on the door even though it was wide open. He sat down on his bed, smiling at me, letting me know that I could go inside. "Hey," I offered him a tiny grin. He greeted me back, making a place on his bed so I could sit next to him. "Feeling better?"

"I'm a werewolf," He chuckled. "No injuries anymore. I'm okay." I shook my head, letting him know that I wasn't talking about his injury, but Allison Argent. "It will be alright. I-I don't really want to talk about that right now." He pleaded.

I nodded. "Actually," I felt a know in my throat. "Remember that day we got detention? Well, you guys did. I went to the police station with Sheriff Stilinski." He curiously nodded his head, telling me to continue. "You know about my mom, right?"

"Kind of."

I dropped the backpack, falling with a slightly 'thud' on top of his bed. "This was hers. Some of the things they let her keep. Sheriff Stilisnki was given this by the Sheriff who carried her case." He placed his hand on top of my right arm. "I didn't want it, but Noah thought I should decide what to do with it, and even though I don't want to be reminded of her..." I swallowed. "I need to check something." I licked my bottom lip, clutching the bag.

"Should we do it together?"

I glanced at him, nodding my head, begging for him to go through this with me. Blinking a couple of times, my hands grabbed the bag even tighter.

Scott moved over, taking a look inside the bag. "There isn't much," He reaffirmed what I already could see. Before his hand went into the bag to grab some things, he stared at me, asking for permission. I just nodded my head. He took a couple of pictures out, four or five. Pictures of her favourite celebrities, some of them had passed out a couple of years ago. There was only one picture that caught my attention. "Is this your mom?" I just nodded again.

I took the other items out of the bag, some receipts from places she went to before she was sent to jail. Then, I saw another picture. A picture that not only affected me but also Scott. The sperm-donor that started all of this.

"W-Where they together when your mom went to jail?" His voice was full of bitterness.

"No," I set the picture inside the bag again. I was mad. Hurt. Broken. But mostly, consumed by rage.

"Are you okay?" His hand rubbed my back. I couldn't help but lean on him. "Is there something wrong?" He looked over everything again.

"There is something wrong." I sighed. "Scott, if your mom left for a long time. What would she take with her?"

He seemed confused, eyes moving from side to side, trying to think. "Clothes, money, Uhm, may-"

"A picture," I interrupted him. "At least she would take a picture of you with her," I offered a sad smile. My eyes were teary. "She would take a picture of her so-loved son so she could stare at it whenever she would feel lost, confused, happy, sad...There is a picture of that fucking asshole, and that one," I pointed at the photograph of my mother that he was still holding in his hand. On it, she was laughing at the camera, her teeth were yellowish due to the drugs, and her hair was a dyed mess. Next to her, her friend, the one who took care of me also smiled at the camera. My eyes went back to the woman who gave birth to me, you could only see half of her left arm. Someone had ripped the picture. "I was there," I replied. "The part of the picture that it is missing, I was there, holding her hand. I was 6 years old."

I heard him swallow. "Maybe it got ripped, and-"

"Scott," I sighed, a couple of tears wetting my face. "A mother would do anything for their child. Keeping me was harder than keeping a fucking piece of paper. She couldn't keep me, but she could have done that with a little piece of paper if she loved me."

"Come here," He neglected the pictures, kicking them with his feet, out of the bed. Open arms waiting for me to rest against his chest, offering comfort. The comfort I hadn't felt in years.

"Oh, whoa. Can't. Okay. You know you don't- Can you just grab that side, maybe?" I shifted my gaze to the door when I heard Stiles's voice. He had a gift that was bigger than him. A gift for Lydia Martin's birthday.

"There he is." Scott made a gesture, indicating me to follow him towards our goofy friend.

"Have you guys seen Jackson anywhere?" Stilisnki asked as he walked towards us, offering me a little shy smile.

"No. Seen Allison?"

"No, but we should probably tell her what we found."

"I'm still kind of not sure what we found."

"I figured out it has something to do with water. You know, the fact that all the victims were on the swim team, the way the Kanima reacted around the pool." While he explained, his gaze examined every person that was in Lydia's birthday party. "And that connects the Kanima with you," He glanced at me. True, it didn't know how to swim, but for some reason, he wanted me dead.

"My scales," I interrupted. "The first time I got my scales, it was that day at the pool." I realized the following. "The Kanima isn't a water creature, but what if I am?" They both nodded. Stiles reassuring me, determining that we would continue investigating.

"So whoever's controlling the Kanima really hates the swim team?"

"Hated the swim team. Specifically, the 2006 swim team. So it could be another teacher. Maybe like a student back then. I mean, who are we missing though? What haven't we thought of?"

Stiles stopped speaking when we saw Allison entering the party. "Uh, Jackson's not here."

"Yeah, no one's here," Scott replied, stating that maybe it was too early. "Or maybe nobody's coming because Lydia's turned into the town whackjob."

After his words, I glanced around, until I found Lydia, also looking around her, noticing that we were the only ones there. "Well, we have to do something, because we've completely ignored her for the past two weeks." I agreed with Allison, even though I was still a little mad by her lack of trust in us.

"She's completely ignored Stiles the past ten years."

"I prefer to think of it as me not having been on her radar yet." I sighed. Scott peered at me, offering me a little smile, which confused me.

"We don't owe her a party."

My eyes were still set on Lydia. She didn't deserve to be treated like that. "We do." The other McCall glanced at me. "She wouldn't be the town whackjob if it wasn't for us."

"I guess I could use my co-captain status to get the lacrosse team here."

"Yeah, I also know some people who can get this thing going. Like, REALLY going."

"Who?"

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

A couple of minutes after, the party was now full of people. Scott was sitting down on a couch, arms around his waist. Stiles's back was resting against a pillar, a drink on his hand. I was standing next to him, avoiding alcohol. I didn't feel like drinking, not with the situation going on.

"Are you gonna apologize to Allison or what?"

"Why should I apologize?"

"Because you're the guy. It's, like, what we do." Stiles glanced at me, looking for approval.

"To be honest," I sighed while crossing my arms under my chest. "I feel like she should be the one apologizing." Scott stared at me, smirking victoriously.

"Exactly, I didn't do anything wrong."

"Then you should definitely apologize." Stiles intervened. "See, any time a guy thinks he hasn't done anything wrong, it means he's definitely done something wrong."

"I'm not apologizing."

"Is that the full moon talking, buddy?"

"Probably. Why do you care, anyway?"

"Because, Scott, something's gotta go right here. 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. I'm in love with-." His eyes examined Lydia, then his eyes stayed on me for a couple of minutes. Maybe he thought that I didn't know about his crush on Lydia? "Ugh. And 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."

I let Stiles rumble, glancing around the room. People seemed to be having lots of fun, but it could be interrupted. "Don't stab yourself in the face," Both of their attention went to me. "Jackson's here."

When I noticed Lydia coming closer to us, I decided to let her talk with Scott and Stiles. "Hey guys, I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

Before I could walk away from them, a hand grabbed my wrist. "Do you need me to go with you?" Stiles asked. "Like, wait, that sounded wrong. Not like go IN the bathroom with you, but like, so you-"

"Stiles," I laughed. "I understood what you meant. I'm okay. I just need to go to the bathroom. I will be fine." I glanced at Lydia, then back at him. "It's your opportunity to be with Lydia," I whispered, turning around.

"I don't want to be with-."

I couldn't hear what he said due to the music, but I didn't give it too much importance, going upstairs in search of a bathroom. What I found, wasn't what I wanted.

"Stalking. So I-I'm a stalker now. That's- Is that it? Y-you think my bedroom is wallpapered with your photos? You think I'm the kind of guy that's gonna say something like, 'well, if I can't have her, no one can.' Well, you know what? Get over yourself, because another pretty girl is walking through the room every five minutes." Matt. I didn't like this guy at all.

"Well, then, all you have to do is wait for another three. Good luck."

"Allison, wait. What is the matter with you?" He seized her wrist. I couldn't control myself, going inside the room, and grabbing freeing Allison from Matt's hold.

"No," I replied. "What is wrong with you? Didn't you say something about pretty girls walking through the door every five minutes?" He glared at me. "Then go find one who gives you her consent, Allison didn't."

I clutched Allison's hand, leading her out of the room. "You always are where you shouldn't be." I heard Matt. Was he talking about me? I don't give a shit.

We went downstairs, I asked Allison a couple of times if she was alright. But she just ignored me, looking forward. "No. No, not here. Scott. Scott!" She started screaming. I walked around, placing myself in front of her so I could observe her face. "No!" She pushed me with all of her strength. I fell to the ground. Allison was grabbing her stomach while laboured breathes escaped through her lips. She examined her hands, terrified.

"Allison?" I asked worriedly while getting up. "What's going on?"

"I-I just saw myself with a crossbow, and the arrow pierced my stomach. I-It felt so real."

I nodded my head, heart beating wildly. "I need to find the boys."

I found Stiles outside. He was focused on a group of people that were partying. His eyes seemed lost, like Allison's eyes were a couple of minutes ago. I fastly walked to him when I saw him cover his face with his arm. "Stiles," He examined me. His right hand touching my face to make sure that I was real. "Did you just hallucinate?" His eyes were teary while he nodded. I let my hands grab his cheeks, caressing them, and rubbing the tears off. "Allison did also hallucinate, I think something is going on." He nodded, trying to breathe. "Do you want to talk about it?" He shook his head.

His legs started shaking. I couldn't hold up his weight, so I helped him sit on the floor. In seconds, almost every person in the party was on the floor or stumbling around. A hand touched my shoulder, which makes me flinch until I saw Scott. "Scott somethin-" He nodded his head.

"Stiles, look at me. Drink the water. Stiles, drink it. Something's happening, and I need you to sober up right now. Come on, Stiles." He tried to make him drink from a water bottle.

Danielle, a black girl who I met at the party walked up to us. She smiled at me. I've talked to her during the party, and she was great. "What do you think you are doing? You want to sober him up fast, that's not the way to do it."

"You can do better?" I asked hopefully.

"I can do best, baby girl." He grabbed Stiles's head, submerging it into the water of the pool. "Whoo! How do you feel?"

"Like I might have to revisit my policy on hitting a girl," I smirked, still caressing his hands.

"He's sober." She winked at me, leaving us on our own.

"Dude, anyone who drank that crap, they're freaking out." Stiles seemed to be back to his normal self, examining the other people at the party. We couldn't find Allison, so I just hoped that she would be alright.

"I can see that."

I glanced down at the hoodie Stiles had let me wear as I was cold. There was some purple dust on it. I put it closer to my face, then the breeze stirred it, making me cough.

"What the hell do we do?" I glanced up when Stiles spoke.

A little girl. What the fuck was doing a little girl at a party?

Her eyes met mine. "Help me, please." I stared at her, bewildered, but took a step forward to help her. She was too close to the pool, and the others didn't seem to care about her.

"Where are you going?" Stiles grasped my hand.

"She needs help." I didn't look at him.

"Who?"

"Her, Stiles." I finally glanced at him. "There's a little girl there, we need to take her out of here-."

"What are you talking about?" Scott checked my eyes. "You didn't drink, right?" I shook my head, glancing back at the little girl. Then I heard this frightful sound. The little girl fell to the floor, blood covering her small body. I gasped. My eyes moved around, someone had shot her, and that's when I saw her; Alice, my mom.

"Hey!" Stiles was grabbing my face. "Snap back to reality. Whatever you saw wasn't real, okay?" It was. It was real. She did that. She really did that.

She shot her.

"I can't swim! No, no, no, no, stop, guys! I can't swim! I can't swim! I can't. I can't-” Matt?

Everything happened so fast, the cops appeared, and that's when we found out that Matt was controlling the Kanima. But this wasn't over.

People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

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