@ Fic Authors What Do You Personally Consider A Successful Fic? What’s The Bar?

I’ve Got You – Valerio Montesinos x Reader

Gif not mine. Credits to the rightful owner.

Summary: You pass out during class, and Valerio takes care of you. {Requested}

Word count: 1k

You felt off all morning. You woke up feeling cold, a chill clanging to your skin despite the warmth of your bed. Your body ached, your throat was drier than a sandbox, and a persistent headache throbbed behind your eyes. However, a mild cold was nothing you couldn’t push through — or so you though. As the day went on, it had become harder to ignore the sickness creeping in. The fluorescent lighting of the classroom made your vision swim, the words on the board were blurred together, and the chatter of your classmates sounded unbearably loud.

“You okay?” Carla’s voice broke through the haze, and you felt her sharp eyes scrutinizing you. “Yeah, I’m fine — just a little tired,” you answered, forcing a weak smile. She did not look convinced, neither nor Guzmán and Lu when they turned in their seat.

“You do not look tired,” Lu said bluntly, exchanging worried glances with Carla. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

The nausea was crawling in your throat. You swallowed hard and took a deep breath — you just had to make it until class came to and end — a few more minutes.

“Y/N? Do you want some water?” Ander’s voice barely registered. Your head was spinning, the murmurs around you blurred into a hum as your body wavered in its fight to stay upright. A wave of heat rolled over you, suffocating and unbearable.

“It’s so hot in here…” you murmured, tugging desperately at the collar of your shirt. The fabric felt suffocating against your burning skin. “Please, don’t be so close to me.”

Ander immediately pulled back. “I’m getting you some water,” he offered, his voice laced with concern. Worried glances were exchanged between your classmates, but you couldn’t process any of it. Every inch of your skin felt too hot. “Please, I— I need some air,” you pleaded.

Someone — Nadia? — opened the window.

Voices were overlapping in frantic concern the moment Valerio stepped in the classroom. His head snapped at your direction just as he caught the tail end of you saying you needed some air. The second he heard air, his jaw clenched. His eyes found you in an instant — unnervingly pale skin, shallow breaths — he knew that look.

“Everyone get back, let her breathe,” he snapped, pushing through the desks, desperate to get to you. Carla was the first to react with Samuel, Polo and Guzmán following suit. Nadia, Rebeka and Lu were hesitant but listened, and shifted away.

Valerio kneeled beside you. “I don’t feel good,” you whispered to him. You were swaying slightly, your eyes hazy, unfocussed. Valerio reached for you, his hands resting on your shoulders, trying to steady you.

“You’re okay, I got you,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing but with an undertone of concern. He could feel the heat radiating off you, your skin damp with sweat. Your breath hitched, your fingers gripping at his shirt. “It’s so hot in here,” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I got the water,” Ander passed the bottle to Valerio. One hand cradled the back of your head as he brought it to your lips. “Just one sip,” he urged, titling the bottle slightly. The cold water touched your lips, and another wave of nausea surged through you. Your vision blurred, your ears rang, and everything went black.

—

“Dios, don’t do that again,” Lu exhaled sharply, just as your eyelids fluttered open. Her hands were crossed over her chest, more out of anxiety rather than annoyance.

“You scared the hell out of us,” Carla added — her usual cold demeanor had been replaced with something softer, warmer.

“Oh, so now you care?” Rebeka scoffed, arching her eyebrow. Her sharp gaze shifted between them. Simultaneously, Carla and Lu shot her a death glace. “Cállate, Ghetto Barbie,” Lu snapped. Her gaze shifted back to you. “Unlike you, we actually know her — she’s always too damn stubborn to admit something’s wrong.”

“No, you’re just always too damn busy gossiping to actually notice if something’s wrong,” Rebeka shot back.

“Enough,” Guzmán cut in, standing between them. His eyes darted to you, still curled in Valerio’s lap. “Stop talking about Y/N like she’s not right here.”

This was enough for Rebeka and Lu to pause, even if they were still glaring daggers at each other.

“And stop acting like she flatlined,” Valerio muttered. His fingers were tangled in your hair, his touch grounding you.

“She almost did — she completely collapsed,” Nadia commented, earning a scoff from Ander. “Alright,” he huffed, rubbing his temple. “Enough with the dramatics. She needs to go home now, before she collapses again.”

Carla rolled her eyes, her fingers tapping impatiently on her crossed arms. “Ander is right. She shouldn’t be here — she looks like she just crawled out of her own grave.”

“That’s exactly what I was trying to do before Ghetto Barbie over here decided to pick a fight,” Lu muttered. Rebeka’s eyes flared.

Rebeka’s jaw clenched. “You want to keep pushing me, princesa? Because I swear—”

“Basta!” Valerio snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through the rising tension. His arms tightened around you protectively when you flinched at the sudden volume. That was enough to shut everyone up.

His expression softened as he looked down at you. “I’m taking her home.”

“Who the hell knew Mr. Chile is boyfriend material,” Rebeka quipped. Lu scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, please. He’s just trying to be useful for once.”

“Útil would be you shutting up for five seconds,” Valerio shot back, carefully lifting you into his arms. Lu bit back a remark as she watched her brother carry you towards the exit. ”I’ve got you, mi amor,” Valerio whispered as he stepped in the empty hallway. “I’ve got you.”

Being Stiles Stilinski’s Twin Sister Would Include...

Stiles being born twelve minutes prior to you 

which meant constantly making fun of you for being ‘the little Stilinski’

which resulted to you smacking him so he’d shut up 

He always did

Being the exact opposite of him

Getting along excellently, regardless of your dissimilar personalities

Being the only one able to pronounce his name without slipping up

Being each other’s best friend

Always having each other’s back

Fighting over who’d shower first

Fighting over what you’d have for dinner

Fighting over what you’d watch on TV

Fighting over who’d drive

Fighting over who’d get to date Derek

Stealing his clothes

Twin telepathy

Knowing when either of you was in trouble 

Pulling pranks on Coach together

And getting lectured by Sheriff Stilinski about it

Even though he knew it was realistically pointless

Not arguing often, but when you did, nobody dared to step in-between you two 

They knew better

Having had to learn it the hard way

Being a member of Scott’s pack

Asking your help with the investigation

Isaac trying to flirt with you during pack meetings

Stiles telling him off because he knew you weren’t into him

Instantly noticing when he started showing symptoms of Frontotemporal Dementia 

Crying your eyes out when the tests came back positive

Him coming to you for comfort after a nightmare

Calming him down after a panic attack

The Nogitsune kidnapping you to manipulate the pack

You being the one who remembered him first and was able to bring him back 

Leaving Beacon Hills with him

Forever watching out for each other 

Stand By Me (rewrite) – Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: This a rewrite of a ficlet I wrote like, two years back, because why not. You can find the original here.

Word count: 673

Your finger hovered over the “call” button on your screen for a good minute before you decided to throw it on your bed. It was a little after midnight, and he would be sleeping anyway. Still, you desperately needed to talk to Stiles- you desperately needed to know that he was alright.

The truth was, despite maintaining your composure, you had no idea how to handle the events that occurred the last two days. You could still hear Scott’s voice, repeating the words “Stiles is missing” over and over again. You could still hear Stiles’ voice repeating, “It’s called Frontotemporal Dementia, it’s what killed my mom” over and over again. This loop in your mind didn’t seem to come to an end.

You were a chronic insomniac, but this kind of sleep deprivation you were experiencing was painful because you couldn’t recall how long you had stayed awake. Sleeping pills didn’t seem to be much help either.

You knew what you needed- you needed him. His touch, his scent, his warmth- him. You wanted to call him, but you didn’t- it seemed like a selfish thing to do because you knew he was as exhausted as you were, if not more.

You kept biting your lips until you could taste the metal of blood in your mouth in an attempt to calm down before your tears became sobs. Your phone vibrating, thankfully, made you instantly snap out of your thoughts.

“Stiles?” you asked as soon as you picked up the phone. His heavy breathing from the other line had you agonizing before he finally spoke up. “Can I come to see you?” he asked. His voice was oddly calm but devastated at the same time.

Instinctively, you glanced at the flip clock on your nightstand. “It’s almost one-thirty in the morning,” you pointed out, a sigh escaping your lips. “Do you want me to come to pick you up?” you questioned after a moment of silence. “No, I got this,” Stiles answered in a weak voice, and you could already hear his Jeep keys jiggling. You weren’t quite sure it was safe for him to drive, but it was only a five-minute drive- hence, you gave in.

“Okay,” you whispered, “I will be waiting for you.” And with that, the line went dead.

No longer than ten minutes later, you had Stiles laying on your chest, his arm hugging your torso tightly. Your room was so quiet only the sound of your breathing could be heard, which actually calmed you down to the point you were moments away from being claimed by sleep.

“Stiles?” you suddenly asked, shooting a sitting position, causing him to sit up as well. It was too dark to distinguish his features, so your hand reached to cup his face- sure enough, you felt his tears moistening your palms like they had moistened your shirt.

“What’s wrong?” you whispered. Stiles let out a whimper. “I don’t know,” he said in a broken voice- you could tell he was really trying to hold back his tears to no avail. And you couldn’t blame him. Something happened to him the night of the eclipse, something he couldn’t pinpoint, and it had visible consequences.

“Something is fucking with my mind,” he cried. You couldn’t help silently crying, too, as all you could do was hold him and whisper soothing words in his ear. “We’ll figure it out, I promise,” you kept repeating.

When you and Stiles finally calmed down, the sun could be seen rising from your window, and you were both on the verge of collapse. “I think we need to sleep,” you said softly, running your fingers through Stiles’ messy hair, though he was already half-asleep. He didn’t respond, which was your cue to finally go to sleep, too.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” was the last thing to hear before you drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

You didn’t know for how long you were asleep, but when you woke up, Stiles was nowhere to be found.

Chimney: I sleep with a knife under my pillow

Eddie: Weak. I sleep with two under mine.

Bobby: You are both pathetic.

Chimney: What killer weapon do you sleep with then, Lord Badass?

Bobby: Athena.

Can you do a 'dating Derek Hale would include' headcanons?

Here ya go!

Dating Derek Hale Would Include…

Him being a keeper

You being his anchor

Him protecting you at all costs

Him wanting you not to get involved in the supernatural

Him not wanting you anywhere near Peter

Working out with him

Helping him train Scott

Helping the pack anytime

Being the pack mom, actually

Eye rolls

Sarcasm

Treating his wounds

Lecturing him

Tracing his tattoo

Hot makeout sessions

Rough sex

Him being gentle as well

Forehead kisses

Constantly asking you if you’re okay

Threatening everyone to kill them if they hurt you

Him opening up to you

Bringing out his soft side

Cuddling

Sleeping on the couch curled up to him

Him always listening to your heartbeat to calm down

It's still so strange to me how apparently taboo it is to like a post on someone's Instagram from a month ago when there are posts still circulating on Tumblr from 1550 BCE

Should’ve Done Your Homework – Aiden Steiner x Reader

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Aiden Steiner x Reader

Summary: Theo Raeken has taken an interest on you while Aiden is out of town. Lydia, Stiles and Scott knock some sense into him.

Trigger warning: Cursing

Word count: 1.062

Theo Raeken had finally lost his patience.

He had noticed you the moment he returned to Beacon Hills, drawn in by your effortless grace and natural allure. You were breathtaking — without trying, without pretense, carrying yourself with an understated confidence that made you impossible to ignore. Confident. Sharp. Untouchable. Like you existed in a different league, and he wasn’t even worth a second glance.

So, he tried. Turned on the charm. Made conversation. Dropped little comments meant to test the waters.

Nothing. Not even a flicker of interest.

And now, standing in the middle of the school hallway, watching you walk away from him yet again, he had reached his limit.

He turned to Stiles, who was leaned against his locker, arms crossed over his chest, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He could barely contain his amusement at the situation unfolding before him. Scott, on the other hand, seemed genuinely uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as tension filled the air.

"Okay, seriously," Theo huffed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation, "what the hell is her problem?"

Scott and Stiles exchanged a quick glance, years of friendship allowing them to communicate volumes in that brief moment. "Her problem?" Stiles repeated, letting out a short, incredulous laugh. Scott pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not wanting to be a part of this conversation that was rapidly heading south.

Theo clenched his jaw. "Yeah, her problem. She's been nothing but cold to me since I got here, treating me like I'm completely invisible."

"This gonna be fun," Lydia muttered to herself, inspecting a perfectly manicured nail with exaggerated interest, a slight smirk tugging at her lips.

"So, let me get this straight," she drawled, her voice dripping with carefully measured disdain, "you're pissed off because she doesn't fall for your 'nice guy' act? You show up out of nowhere, acting all smooth, throwing a few compliments and charming smiles around like confetti, and suddenly you're entitled to her attention? Is that what we're dealing with here?"

Theo rolled his eyes dramatically. "That's not what I am saying—"

"Then what are you saying, Theo?" Scott interrupted, his usually calm demeanor cracking. His patience was running thin, evident in the sharp edge to his words.

"She barely even acknowledges me," Theo snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration, his voice rising with each word.

Stiles let out a sharp breath, barely containing his mirth. "Oh my gosh. This is hilarious. This is absolutely priceless."

Theo glared at him, his eyes flashing dangerously. "How is this funny, Stilinski? Please, enlighten me."

"It's funny because you're about as self-aware as a brick wall. Actually, that might be insulting to brick walls. Seriously, Theo. You should've done your homework before going after Y/N."

Theo narrowed his eyes, suspicion creeping into his expression. "And why is that?"

"Oh, come on, Theo. You're a big, bad werewolf. Think," Lydia urged, an amused grin spreading across her lips.

Irritation flickered across his face. "Just spit it out already," he demanded, his patience wearing dangerously thin.

Stiles turned to Theo with mock sympathy, placing a theatrical hand over his heart. "My dear friend, she's taken."

"So what? I've never seen her with anyone. And it's High School," he scoffed dismissively, as if that fact alone made relationships temporary, easily breakable, mere child's play.

"Oh, wow, buddy," Stiles grinned, clearly enjoying this moment far too much, "you really thought she's single just because you haven't seen her making out in the hallways? That's adorably naïve of you."

Theo's brows furrowed deeply, confusion and frustration warring on his features. "I'm just saying if she's taken, then where is he? Who even is he? Because I haven't seen anyone worthy around here."

Scott, who was mostly quiet up until this point of the conversation, leaned in purposefully. His voice was low, steady, carrying a weight that demanded attention.

"Quick question, didn't you say the werewolf who bit you was killed by his own betas?"

"Yeah — what does that have to do with anything?" Theo responded, clearly struggling to connect the dots.

"Well, my little clueless fool," Stiles shook his head with a mischievous smile that threatened to split his face, "one of those betas is dating Danny. The other…" his voice trailed off meaningfully. He didn't need to finish the sentence, letting the implication hang heavy in the air.

Theo's eyes widened in realization, the color draining from his face. "No way."

"Yes way."

"Go ahead, Theo," Lydia clicked her tongue, savoring the moment like fine wine, "say his name."

"You're telling me Aiden fucking Steiner — the former Alpha — is dating Y/N*,*" Theo gasped in disbelief, pointing at you. You were stood by your locker at the end of the hallway, casually chatting with Malia — once again, not paying attention to him, not sparing even a fleeting glance towards his direction. "For how long? How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, not that long, really," Stiles replied, his grin stretching impossibly wider, "it's been like, what? Three, four years? Something like that. You know, just a casual long-term commitment."

"What?! So you're telling me she was dating Aiden even when he was after you? When everything was chaos?"

"Oh, yeah. Snuck around everyone's back. Very forbidden romance, enemies to lovers of them — expect, they were never enemies, you know," Lydia answered, clearly relishing every moment of Theo's growing discomfort. "And not only that—he's fiercely protective of her," she added. "More like psychotically protective," Stiles corrected.

"If he's so overprotective, then where is he now? I've seen his brother around, but him? Haven't seen him in weeks," Theo objected, his confidence returning.

Lydia gave him a knowing smirk. “So what? He’s gonna come back, eventually.”

“And if he finds out you’ve been obsessing over his girlfriend for weeks - well… see how that goes for you,” Scott added, his voice dead serious.

Theo remained silent.

“So, if you want to keep pushing, good luck,” Stiles finished, clapping Theo on the shoulder. “And if you need help arranging the funeral… I know a guy.”

eli: can I keep the night light on?

stiles: and provide the monsters with a beacon to your exact location? sure.

Protected – Derek Hale x Young! Beta! Reader

Summary: You’re Derek Hale’s 15-year-old Beta. Derek saves you before Gerald Argent kills you.

{Requested}

Pairing: Derek Hale x Young!Beta!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Gerald Argent, furious Derek, swearing, blood, crying

Word count: 802

Song recommendation: Iron - Woodkid

*Flashback*

“Do you have a death wish, Y/N?” Derek crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorframe, blocking the exit. You raised an eyebrow, sort of glaring at him.

“Do you?” you talked back at him, smiling coldly. Derek’s jaw clenched as he suppressed the urge to give you a piece of his mind. You had been giving him attitude for the past few days, and even if he was fully aware you disliked being told what to do, he was still your Alpha and had obligation to protect you.

“In case you forgot, Argent has already tried to kill you twice,” he acknowledged. “And failed to do so, twice,” you responded bitterly.

Derek sighed. “I’m only trying to keep you safe, Y/N/N. Please, just listen to me,” he said. Your gaze softened. “I’ll be fine, Derek,” you muttered, making your way out of the loft.

*End of flashback*

You weren’t exactly sure how you had found yourself running through the woods for dear life. There was, however, something you knew for certain: if you made it out alive, you’d never disregard Derek again. You were getting weaker, however, every second that went by. The possibility of you surviving seemed considerably unrealistic.

You hissed in pain, removing an arrow from your abdomen and hurriedly pressing with your hand against the cut to stem the bleeding, only to realize that you had been poisoned with wolf’s bane- you weren’t healing. You were seriously injured, and teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, yet you refused to give up.  

“I have to admit, Y/N, you gave me quite a hard time,” Gerald Argent commented, examining your bloodied features. You scoffed, “yeah, well. Facilitating your process of killing me wasn’t exactly on my to-do list,” you replied sarcastically, aching with every breath you took.

“You’re something else, aren’t you? For a newly turned Beta, you’re quite skilled. I’m sure you’re Derek’s favorite,” he pointed out, laughing devilishly. “It’s a shame you have to die this way, so young and innocent.”

Realization hit you. You were really going to die, if you didn’t do something drastic. With every bit of power you had left, you roared. Assuming Derek was searching for you, you had given away your position.

“Your life is completely in my hands; quit testing my boundaries, sweetheart,” Gerald warned, aiming a gun between your eyes. “Do you have any last words?” There was a brief moment of silence.

“Look behind you,” you breathed.

Derek emerged from the shadows, fully turned in his werewolf form. He neared Gerald in no time, instantly disarming him. “You didn’t actually believe I’d let you kill my Beta, did you?” he asked. To say his voice was infuriated, was an understatement. “Hunting her down alone was a seriously bad idea, Argent.”

– 

“SON OF A-” you cried, immediately waking up. “Hold her still!” Deaton shouted, pressing a syringe in your carotid, which you supposed contained the antidote for Aconitum. The pain was sending you over the edge, causing you to dig your claws in your Alpha’s skin, who held your hands pinned against the cold metal table.

After a few moments that felt like centuries, the veterinarian removed the needle from your neck. He gently pressed a cotton pad soaked in rubbing alcohol to where he injected you and gave you a sympathetic smile. “You almost died. Welcome back,” he simply said, earning a chuckle from you.

Deaton shot a knowing look at Derek. “I’m sure you two have a lot to discuss.” Derek nodded lightly, and Allan hustled out of the room, leaving you alone with your Alpha.

He wasn’t protective over you only because you were his Beta. He was protective over you because you were his anchor. There was something, in that intractable character of yours, that brought out the best of him. He felt responsible for you, as your Alpha and as your guardian. You were the closest person he had to a family. He needed to know you were safe. The idea of your getting hurt terrified him. 

“Did you kill him?” your croaked voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Derek smiled half-heartedly at you. “No, I didn’t. The Argents don’t deserve this kind of mercy,” he answered. “Right,” you whispered, avoiding eye contact.  

You wrapped your hands around Derek’s neck and rested your head in his chest. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, and he could already feel your tears moistening his shirt as he rubbed your back, trying to calm you down.

“It’s alright,” he said comfortingly. “Just, don’t be so stubborn next time.” 

“I promise,” you breathed. “Can we go home now?” Derek nodded and kissed your forehead, picking you up. The familiar warmth of his body soothed you to sleep, finally feeling protected in his embrace.