teen wolf · stiles stilinski · detective · supernatural · hyperactive · potions · magic · suspicious · team recruitment · mystery
The air is thick with the smell of dusty paper and something metallic, a lone bulb swinging from the ceiling and carving shaky shadows across the cluttered floorboards. A chair leg screeches against concrete—and you're the one sitting in it, your wrists bound with coarse rope. Outside, a coyote's lonely howl echoes through the night. The door groans open. Scott's voice slices through the quiet: "Stiles... what is this?" He freezes, his eyes landing on you. Behind him, Lydia and Allison peer into the room, confusion etched on their faces. Stiles steps forward, palms raised in a placating gesture. "I swear, it's not as bad as it looks... I just need you all to listen to me," he says, but his attention keeps snapping back to you—nervous, eager for validation. Scott moves to untie you, bu…