#except in this stiles has the hots for it

[sundrop-writes]

BRAINWASHED

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Everything’s clean - except for my thoughts. (Thinking about me getting you off.)

Can’t stop thinking you got me B R A I N W A S H E D .

Summary:

Stiles likes you. He really, really, really likes you. It's bordering on obsession, but he likes to believe that he has it under control.

So when you accidentally leave a pair of your panties in his presence, ripe for the taking, and they're in his backpack faster than he can blink - he realizes that he might not have it as under control as he would like to think. But he can't find it to be too much of a problem when he has those panties wrapped around his cock.

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Pining!Stiles/One Sided Fantasies. Panty Stealing. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 8,000

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as having a vagina; Stiles and the reader have been best friends since childhood and they are in high school now (they are both the same age) (for argument's sake, they are both 18, but the horny parts were motivated by the hotness of a 20-something actor so idc what age you interpret the characters as); the reader's looks are mostly undescribed and left neutral in terms of race, hair texture/colour, height, etc. however the reader is implied to be fat/plus sized; mentions of the reader wearing dresses and tights (things that the other characters on the show would typically wear); mentions of the reader having a cat - I did not give the cat a name so you can imagine it's the same as your cat's name/what you would want your cat to be called if you had one; use of Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); brief mention that the reader would like wearing bikinis; the reader calls Stiles 'good boy' in non-sexual contexts and it turns him on; mentions of Stiles looking up the reader's skirt when she doesn't know it; some slight dubious consent because Stiles steals the reader's underwear without her consent and uses them in a sexual act (his masturbation); masturbation (Stiles touching himself); this is a one-sided/pining fic - all the sexual acts take place inside Stiles's mind as sexual fantasies while he masturbates; the reader character is described in these sexual acts as they play out in his mind, so that's why she is included heavily in the warnings; Stiles is submissive (even in his own fantasies) and he fantasies about the reader being dominant toward him; Stiles becoming aroused by the idea of the reader not shaving her pussy; technically there is edging - because Stiles edges himself to make his fantasies last longer; panty sniffing (though the panties Stiles took are freshly launder and not used ones); scent kink/sweat kink - Stiles likes the way you smell, including your sweat; kinks and sexual acts mentioned only in Stiles's fantasies (taking place only in his mind in this fic): car sex (in the back of the Jeep (typical, I know)), fingering (reader receiving), degradation kink (Stiles receiving - he likes the idea of the reader insulting him and being mean to him); pussy eating (Stiles fantasizes in depth about this); Reader makes a joke about spanking Stiles and Stiles has a small fantasy about being spanked by her; I think that's finally it.

A/N: Title for the fic comes from the song Brainwashed by Waterparks. Warning - Stiles might be a bit OOC in this because I wrote it before I started re-watching Teen Wolf again (and before I started watching Season 1 for the first time, because previously I had only seen 3B and beyond). In this, I have said that he's flunking classes and he's not really great with studying, while in the show, he's really smart and bookish and really well studied - but it could just be chalked up to the fact that he has a huge crush on the Reader that is distracting him from studying. So, interpret it how you want. I hope that you enjoy it, and please read through to my end notes to find out about a potential sequel to the fic!!

...

Stiles was hopeless. 

That was the only way to describe his current state of being. Completely, utterly hopeless. 

He was a complete and total loser, hopelessly in love with his best friend. And he was getting more stupidly caught up in that crush every single day. And of course, he didn’t even have the courage to admit his feelings for you so that it could be awkwardly out in the open. So that the two of you could get the rejection part over with, at least. 

Basically - his feelings for you were slowly ruining his life. 

Stiles had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Well, maybe not that long. 

See, you, him, and Scott had all been friends since the beginning of kindergarten, and naturally, Stiles always liked you as a person. He always thought of you as a good friend, even if he gravitated toward Scott more.  

But he distinctly remembered the first moment when he had started to develop a crush on you. It was a very special memory to him - the day when you shifted in his eyes from annoying, slightly nagging friend to a beautiful, fierce woman. 

It was the day when the three of you were out on Halloween night during the third grade - and that was around the time people started whispering about crushes in school, when people would have playground girlfriends and boyfriends that they broke up with every other week. That night, a group of eighth grade bullies began chasing the three of you, trying to take your candy. 

Without hesitation, you picked up the largest rock in sight and threw it at one of them, causing a large cut across his forehead - and you loudly told them to ‘fuck off’ (the first time Stiles had ever heard such a word when it wasn’t coming from his dad). They had run away, somehow terrified of a girl a foot shorter than them. 

That night, you had become his hero. 

And since then, you had been the only object of his affections. 

Of course, over the years, Stiles had plenty of opportunities to tell you about his feelings for you. He just… always felt too cowardly to do so. 

In seventh grade, he had come very close to asking you out to the winter dance - only to have Scott beat him to the punch. When he pulled Scott aside to ask him about it, Scott confessed to him that he also had a crush on you. This resulted in their first ever fistfight. The first ever true rift in their otherwise close, brotherly friendship. 

The boys didn’t speak to each other for days. Which, naturally, annoyed the hell out of you. Especially because, of course, neither of them told you why they were fighting, not wanting you to know that you were the source of the rift in their friendship. And to you, this only made the fight seem more stupid and immature. 

So finally, when you demanded it, they called a truce. They agreed that they didn’t want to lose their friendship or lose you. They didn’t want to make you choose between them when it wouldn’t make any of you happy. 

So Stiles proposed that the three of you should go to the dance as friends, which you loved, and they both got you a corsage, one for each wrist - and the three of you still laughed at the pictures of you holding each of their arms. 

Eventually, Scott grew out of his crush on you and moved onto other girls, and he loved that he got to keep you as a close best friend, someone he could go to for dating advice if needed. Scott kept trying to convince Stiles to simply ‘man up’ and tell you about his feelings, but Stiles kept that same sentiment they had concluded upon years ago. Telling you about his feelings would only ruin the friendship. Not just between you, but between the entire group - it would fuck up the pack. 

Though it felt like the more he tried to ignore his feelings for you, the more they festered like a tumor. While Scott was able to mature past his crush on you, Stiles only grew more intense, and more insane when it came to his ‘crush’ on you. 

Over the years, his crush on you had grown from something sweet and childish into something much more. When puberty truly took over and lust was added into the mix, he now had to deal with the fact that you had grown into a gorgeous woman. He could barely control his arousal when looking at you, hearing your voice, smelling you, talking to you, thinking about you - even simply being in your presence made something in his mind melt. And it was growing much worse with each passing day. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t wake up with a raging boner fueled by sexual dreams of you. 

And naturally, he would say that not telling you about his feelings for you was ultimately the best thing for him. He would steadfastly refuse to admit that him being distracted by all these fantasies of you was slowly eroding your friendship from the inside out. Slowly, bit by bit, his worst fears were coming true - your friendship was being ruined by his crush anyway. 

But he tried to ignore that. Even if you were the most gorgeous, perfect being ever put on the planet, he tried his hardest to simply enjoy the platonic version of you. He tried to act like he wasn’t stupidly, head over heels in love with you. 

He tried not to act like it. 

But on nights like this, it was just so hard. 

Tonight, the two of you were studying for an upcoming English mid-term that would be worth a decent portion of your final grade. 

Logically, Stiles knew that he should have locked himself in his room and forced himself to study independently. Or he should have taken up Scott on his offer to study with him and Allison. 

But no, he just had to ask you for your ‘help’. 

And you pitied him and said yes, because he was doing poorly in the class. The only reason for that being because it was one of the classes that he shared with you, and he spent all of his damn time staring at you across the room during it. He had tried to tell himself that he really would study tonight, that he would really take advantage of your intelligence here and now to get his shit together in order to up his grade. 

But no. That was just one of many daily lies that he told himself. Since the moment he had set foot in your bedroom that afternoon (and it was dark out now, well into the evening) - he hadn’t been able to focus on anything but you. 

Sure, sometimes that worked to his benefit. Hearing you recite Shakespeare, the words coming off your sweet lips - it did force him to focus on the material at hand for at least a short period of time. But it wasn’t like he was actually retaining any of it. He was just thinking about how gorgeous your voice sounded and how amazing you would be in an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. One where he played Romeo, of course - and he would get to use someone else’s well-crafted words to romance you, finally getting to kiss you for the first time. 

Again - he was hopeless. 

Currently, Stiles was laying diagonally on your bed, sitting among a mess of books - the English textbooks, the assigned novels, the published copies of the play, along with binders of your notes and other notebooks, stray papers. He couldn’t pay attention to the notes he was supposed to be writing, not for a moment, not if his life depended on it. Not when you looked this stunningly beautiful while busy writing your own notes. 

With the soft lighting from your bedside lamp brushing across your skin, making that skin look even softer, you were a goddess-like vision sitting on the bed across from him. You were wearing the simple dress that you had worn to school earlier that day, your modest tights since shed off in the name of ‘comfort’ (and so that your cat wouldn’t rip holes in them while crawling across your lap, you had remarked to Stiles). When you had stood at your hamper and peeled them off your legs, Stiles had a hard time not letting the drool spill out across his chin. 

Your thighs were gorgeous. Thick, wide, spread out like a buffet for his eyes to feast on every single time you sat down. From his angle, laying down the way he was, he was up close and personal with the dimpling cellulite and stretchmarks you had there. The hem of your dress had ridden up when you had adjusted your position to get comfortable, and he felt absolutely spoiled by how much more of your thighs were revealed to him. 

A few times throughout the evening, he had to physically clench his fingers, tight, to remind himself not to reach out and touch. To remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to touch. The last thing he wanted to do was to creep you out by randomly reaching out and touching your thigh. But he wanted so badly to touch. 

How many times had he imagined what those thighs would look like bouncing and jiggling while you rode his cock? How many times had he imagined those thighs clamped around his head while he licked your pussy? (Far too many times for the good of his own sanity.) 

Not to mention the concentration spread across your face - you were so fucking hot when you showed off your intelligence. Hell everything about you was hot - your sweetness, your laughter, your sarcasm, even your bitchy side. But your bookish side had to be one of Stiles’s favorites. 

The way you would nibble your own lip when thinking, the way your brows furrowed slightly in thought. Everything about you - from the bra strap sticking out of the neckline of your dress to the chipped edge of your nail polish where you had chewed on it - you were a fucking vision. And Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off you, no matter how hard he tried. 

It was a wonder that you didn’t notice Stiles staring at you - not as often as he did it. 

Stiles felt strangely caught when you put down your pen and looked up from your notebook, then. He quickly scrambled to grab his own pencil and start writing something, to look busy. But of course, he just looked like more of an idiot when the eraser end began scraping across the page in nonsense patterns. 

“Stiles,” You scolded him with a sigh, a way he was used to hearing his name come off your lips. “Have you gotten anything done? I told you to copy down at least half my notes-” 

Of course. You pegged his blank page as simple laziness, rather than his brain slowly melting out through his ears due to his inability to think about anything but you (especially when he was in the same room as you). At least he hadn’t been caught staring at you in that creepy way yet. 

You snatched up his notebook to check his work, and his heart dropped - if you looked too carefully, then he would be caught. In the back of that notebook, there were about three pages of his name and yours in hearts, and a few times he had practiced writing his signature as ‘Mr Stiles L/N’. (He was a feminist, and he liked the idea of starting a new tradition.) There was even a drawing he had made designing your theoretical wedding cake, including a cake topper where he was Superman and you were riding on his back while he was flying. 

“Y/N, uh-” 

He quickly snatched the notebook back, causing a glare from you while he sighed in defeat. 

“Fine.” He shrugged, knowing that he had to admit to a smaller crime in order to cover up the larger one. It was something that he did with his father all too often. “I didn’t get anything done. I was slacking off. You caught me.” 

“Stiles!” You scolded him again, reaching out to gently smack his shoulder. “If you keep this shit up, you’re never gonna graduate!” 

Sadly, you were probably right. His crush on you was absolutely going to ruin him. 

“Well, you could just let me copy off you,” He replied, giving you a wide grin that let you know he was mostly kidding. 

You rolled your eyes in reply, and soon your gaze caught sight of the clock on your nightstand. 

“Well, it seems like you have wasted enough of my time for tonight.” You scoffed sarcastically. 

Stiles knew that you had intended this to be a joke - but he couldn’t help the twinge of pain the words caused in his gut. The idea that he was truly just a waste of time in your life. He pressed his lips tightly together to suppress a frown and didn’t say anything more, and then you continued. 

“It’s almost your curfew anyway.” You pointed out, gesturing toward the clock. You were right. Stiles hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting - too busy enjoying his time with you. “We’ll pack it up for the night - but you should meet me at the library tomorrow morning, early, so we can go over everything again before the exam.” 

Of course, you were still invested in the idea of him getting a good grade, even if that seemed unlikely to happen. 

“You’re gonna make me get up early?” He whined, hating the idea of missing out on even ten extra minutes of sleep. 

“Yes.” You stressed. “I want you there at seven o’clock. Sharp.” 

Your ultra serious voice ordering him around was undeniably a turn-on for him. No matter what sexual fantasies Stiles cooked up about you in his mind, he could never picture himself having full control over you. In fact, most of the time, he found himself covered in cum at the idea of you having complete control over him. And it was likely because this was how most of your friendship went - you told him what to do, and he did it. And that was a huge part of why he fell for you in the first place. 

When he didn’t verbally confirm the time, too caught up in his infatuation yet again, you let out a gentle growl of frustration. 

“Stiles!” You called out his name. “You have to be there at seven. So you can’t get out of bed at seven - you have to set your alarm for like six-thirty, got it? Don’t make me come over there and get your ass out of bed like last time.” 

This thought caused Stiles’s stomach to clench. 

The last time you had come to his house to wake him up for school (because he had agreed to help you with some bakesale project and you were pissed off that he wasn’t there early to help you set up tables and whatnot) - you had charged into his house in a fury. You had your own key, of course, and his dad wasn’t there to busy you with conversation or pleasantries. 

And you charged right up the stairs and nearly caught him with a hand around his cock, jerking off to a picture of you in a bikini from the summer before. And he had rushed to shove the picture in his nightstand and cocoon himself in the comforter to hide his body just as you made it to the top of the stairs, shouting at him for being late. Luckily, he had gotten away with the lie that he had slept in, rather than revealing the truth that he had been distracted because he had woken up with morning wood after having a heated dream about you. 

When Stiles didn’t respond yet again, you grabbed a smaller decorative pillow from behind you and lightly hit him with it for emphasis, causing him to burst into laughter. 

“Promise me you’ll be on time!” You said, smacking him with the pillow again. 

“Yes, yes! I promise!” He finally agreed, his face becoming pink from laughter. 

You dropped the pillow then, and leaned down, causing his eyes to inadvertently go straight to your cleavage while you gave him a gentle, friendly kiss on the forehead. 

“Good boy.” You responded, praising him for agreeing to your terms. Obviously, it was another joke. 

But these praising words combined with your lips even slightly brushing against his skin, along with your tits dangling so close to his face, had his cock swelling to hardness nearly instantly. He grabbed the pillow then, trying to look subtle as he put it over his crotch, desperately trying to hide the very obvious bulge that had popped up at the front of his jeans within seconds. 

He was lucky when you shifted your attention away from him, now busy with cleaning off the bed, gathering your textbooks in a pile and moving to put them on your desk in the corner. You being distracted gave him a few moments to try and mentally will his dick down, which worked slightly. Only slightly. 

“You could help me, you know.” You mocked him lightly - distracting him from his thoughts of baseball, trying to will the blood out of his cock. 

He looked up and saw you standing there with his backpack, putting away his textbooks and notebooks now. He had been so dumbly distracted by his own dick that he hadn’t noticed you taking the kind initiative to clean up his things for him too. 

“Right, sorry.” He jumped into action and did so, taking things from your hands and shoving them into his bag with haste. 

“You don’t have to rush out, I just need the bed cleared off so I can pick out my clothes for tomorrow.” You told him. 

“Wait - you actually pick out your clothes in advance?” He asked, thinking that this was entirely adorable, and explained why you were always so well dressed. 

(And it explained why you were always so punctual in the mornings while Stiles was usually a mess - running around his house still half-asleep, shoving his head into a shirt that he had sniffed to see if it was clean, shoving things frantically into his bag in order to get out the door five minutes late.) 

“Well you know not all of us are okay with just throwing on last week’s mustard stained tee shirt,” You said, playfully pointing to a mustard stain that he had on his shirt from lunch. 

He rolled his eyes in return, trying to ignore the slight twist of embarrassment that wanted to swell up inside of him at the comment. 

There had been a point where he used to make a very pointed effort to impress you. Back when his crush on you had first gotten serious - likely around the beginning of high school. He used to get up early every single morning, spending a lot of time being intensely picky about the clothes he wore. He drowned himself in cologne (until you had complained about it), he wore certain colors just because you mentioned liking them. But none of it seemed to garner any more of your attention than usual. 

And so, he resigned himself to be the loser best friend who would always just float at the corners of your life, drowning in his secret affection for you until some better, hotter guy came along and swept you off your feet one day. 

He was just glad that day hadn’t come yet. 

Stiles was hesitant to leave - he wasn’t done being around you for the day yet, too emotionally attached. But he guessed that he would need to get some decent sleep before waking up at the asscrack of dawn in order to see more of you the next morning. (Even if it would include the horrors of studying at the library.) 

“So - I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” He posed, ready to take his leave as he swung his backpack over his shoulder. 

“Ooh, wait one second.” You said, eagerness twinging through your voice. 

His heart pounded hard in his chest for a moment, wondering if this could be the moment he had been waiting so long for - would you stop him there, grab him by the shoulders and kiss him hard, and then tell him that you had been feeling the exact same way as he had for all these years? 

“Which one?” You asked, spinning around from your closet to face him, holding up two dresses on hangers. 

Oh. You were asking for his opinion about what you should wear to school the next day. 

“The blue one.” Stiles said, motioning towards it. “That shade of blue looks beautiful on you - it compliments your skin tone well, and it makes you shine. But ya know, you look gorgeous in everything. You could wear a paper bag to school and everyone would still be jealous of how amazing you look.” 

He rambled on for a moment too long, and realized that his genuine fondness for you - something straying too far into romantic territory - was slipping out. 

“But - uh, yeah. I’ll see you later.” He quickly added on, now eager to leave before you could make any further comments. 

Then he dashed out of your room and down the stairs, getting out the front door so fast that he practically left a poof of cartoon dust behind him. 

He got into the Jeep and tossed his bag into the passenger’s seat - which, he hadn’t realized was not even zipped up. (A habit you often scolded him for - going around with his bag unzipped.) Papers and books spilled across the seat and underneath it, and he let out a loud growl of frustration. 

“Idiot!” He screamed, scolding himself as he leaned down, trying to clean everything up. “Idiot, idiot, idiot!” 

Partially, he was feeling so idiotic because he had just been so vulnerable with you and you probably thought he was weird for it. Actually, that was mostly why. 

As he was picking up his things, he realized that - yup, he was missing his English textbook. He had forgotten it in your room. He heaved out a sigh and collapsed back against his seat. He could leave without it - but then he would get an earful from you in the morning about how he was ‘forgetful’ and ‘irresponsible’. Ugh. 

He got out of the Jeep again and shuffled his way back into your house - your mom was working late, so there was nobody there to question him running out of the house at top speed and then appearing back so soon. All he got was a curious chirp and a head tilt from your cat, who was sitting on the top of the stairs. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Stiles remarked to the animal, stopping for a moment to pet him. “I’m pathetic. But you can’t rat me out, okay? I know she thinks highly of your opinion and I need you to put in a good word for me. Got it?” 

The cat purred and pushed his face into Stiles’s hand, so he assumed that was a positive affirmation that he would root for Stiles - or at the very least, keep his secret. 

Stiles linger for a moment to scratch the cat’s furry cheek, and then he stepped over the cat and made his way back toward your room. He passed the closed bathroom door and heard the shower running, and he almost cheered. If you were in the shower, then you wouldn’t notice him slipping back in to grab his book, so you couldn’t scold him for being a forgetful idiot. 

He went into your room, and the second he made it through the mouth of your open bedroom, his eyes locked onto your bed like a hot target. Your clothes for the following day were spread out so neatly, and right there, on top of the blue dress he had suggested - there was a pair of lacy purple panties that were something right out of one of his fantasies. 

Stiles had thought about your underwear before - many times. Too many times to count. 

He had even caught small, passing glimpses of your underwear before - when you had worn dresses without tights and bent over in front of him. But he had only seen enough of it to determine the color, not to know if it was lacy or silk or cotton. And even that was enough to send him into a tailspin that had him rushing to the bathroom to relieve his aching cock. 

In the back of his mind - or truly, the forefront of his mind whenever he jerked off to thoughts of you - he always wondered what kind of underwear you wore. What kind of decorative wrapping your pretty pussy would come in if he ever got the other-worldly privilege of getting his hands up your skirt. 

Would they be simple, practical cotton underwear? Would they be cute? Would they be sinfully sexy? Would they be those underwear with the days of the week written across the front? 

But seeing this now - seeing the tangible evidence in front of him that you actually planned to wear purple lacy lingerie to school - it was something that had all sense draining from his mind as blood rushed to his cock once again. He barely had time to think about it - and he didn’t think about it. Because then, they were in his hands, in his pocket, and he was back in the Jeep, hiding his stolen goods in his bag and hastily zipping it up so he could slam his foot on the gas and race home. 

He didn’t even have a chance to think about the fact that he left without the textbook that he had gone back into your room looking for. He didn’t have the attention span to notice that said textbook was in a stack along with your own - almost as if purposefully kept there like an excuse to lure him back into your room, rather than clumsily forgotten by him. 

… 

When Stiles got into his room, he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, now entirely frantic, and thankful that his father was working a late shift again. He sat down on the edge of his bed, his hands shaking with anticipation as he unzipped his bag and pulled out the thing he had so hastily snagged. 

His mind was warring with so many sensations. Guilt for taking the panties, paranoia that he would get caught, shame that he even had the urge to take them in the first place - but all of that was easily toppled over and forgotten in the name of lust. Overwhelming lust and arousal that he felt for you. Greed and joy at knowing that he had something so private of yours in his hands now - something so secret that he shouldn’t have. A perfect little piece of you. 

His little secret piece of you. 

He still couldn’t believe that this was the kind of underwear you wore on a daily basis. 

Just imagining that this was what you wore to school - thinking about the fact that this was what you were wearing under your clothes during your everyday interactions with him: it drove him wild. 

He easily pictured this pretty lace sticking to your cunt when you were wet, the lavender colored material getting slick and slightly darker, soaked through and visibly sticky when you spread your legs for him to see. He wondered if your pussy would be shaved or not - but you didn’t have a boyfriend, so currently, you didn’t have anybody to shave for. 

He remembered a conversation from a few weeks ago where Scott had wondered if he should shave his pubes for Allison and you had remarked that ‘putting a razor near your junk’ was ‘ill-advised and stupid’ - so you probably didn’t even like shaving your pussy on principle. 

This immediately put a picture in his mind of your pussy being covered in soft hair that matched the shade on your head - maybe a bit darker. It would clump together with your juices and become soaked when you got wet. The little hairs would probably stick out cutely from the sides of the bikini cut underwear, peeking at him. 

Your pussy would be the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he knew that for certain. 

Stiles imagined getting you in the backseat of the Jeep one night after a game. 

He would still be covered in sweat from his efforts, worn out from trying his best. Sure, he wasn’t the best player, but you wanted to ‘reward’ him for his efforts on the winning side, even if he hadn’t directly contributed to the win. 

So as soon as the game was over, before he even had time to change out of his pads or shower, you hauled him to the parking lot and shoved him into the car. His gear was only half-off, ditched hastily by your feet, and you were in his lap - a perfect prize after all the hard work he had done, sitting astride his already sore thigh muscles while you kissed him - hard. Your mouth greedily sucked the oxygen out of his lungs while you shoved your tongue past his lips, painting his tongue with your sweet spit - and fuck, it felt like he was made for this. 

He got sucked so deep into the fantasy - it felt so damn real. 

He imagined having his hands splayed out against your beautiful, plump ass, gripping you tightly, noting wanting you to separate from him for even a section. While you held on tightly to his face, sealing him into the kiss until his lips were sore. And you would only pull back to look into his eyes with glossy desperation and utter out: 

“Please, Stiles. I need you. I need you to touch my pussy.” 

And what else could he do but obey? 

So he would lift up your skirt - a particularly short skirt that you had worn with nothing else but a pair of knee-high socks. Something that you knew he loved to see you cheer for him on the sidelines while wearing. Even though it was a chilly night, you couldn’t feel too cold when you saw him glancing at you every single chance he got. Of course, those distracted stares had gotten him screamed at by Coach more than once. But he loved the way your skirt would flutter up in the nighttime breeze, teasing him. The way the fucking beautiful thick fat of your thighs would jiggle whenever you would jump around in order to cheer him on. 

He was a man of simple, divine tastes. 

So - he would lift up that perfect skirt to find those purple lacy panties underneath; to find the perfection of your wet cunt waiting for him, growing slicker by the second, more needy for him. You were humping yourself against his athletic cup, which his hard cock was practically dying inside of, bursting to get out of the hard shell of plastic to touch you. But he ignored his own needs for a few minutes longer in favor of yours. Reaching forward, sliding his fingers along the wet spot at the front of your panties, absolutely indulging in the beautiful gasp you let out when his touch grazed across your swollen clit through the fabric. 

“Stiles, please.” 

He could almost hear it - it was so fucking clear inside his mind. The way your voice would be so pitched with desperation, so perfectly needy curled around his name. He wanted so badly to hear it in real life. 

And he would push those panties to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your hot, wet cunt-

Back in the real world, Stiles’s cock gave a needy pulse, leaking into his boxers. 

He heaved out a sigh, his cock practically vibrating with blood. He had driven home the whole time trying to ignore that boner, but he simply couldn’t do that anymore. He just had to give in. 

He hesitantly put your panties aside - already feeling a strange sense of attachment to them - and reached to his nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube that he had in the drawer. Shamefully, it was already half empty, mostly due to the fantasies that he had about you. He undid his pants and had them around his ankles in record time, and whipped off his shirt for good measure, knowing that he was quite a ‘splasher’ and not wanting to get cum on it to pair with that ugly mustard stain. 

He lubed up his cock more than a healthy amount, knowing that it would contribute to the fantasy of you being so wet around him. It was a distant fantasy that he would never actually get to achieve, but hell - a man can dream. Then he began to slowly pump his cock in hand, wanting to milk it and truly enjoy it, and he let his mind get back to work. 

He thought back to your place. A place he was comfortable, spent a lot of time at hanging out with you. 

He imagined that early that night when he had forgotten his book, rather than you being in the shower, he went back to your room and found that you had been getting ready for bed. You were rubbing sweet-smelling lotion on your arms, pulling back the covers, wearing nothing but a pair of cute little socks, a tiny camisole - where he could very visibly see that you weren’t wearing a bra, with the natural teardrop shape of your breasts bared to the eye, your nipples poking through the fabric - and those purple lace panties. 

When he would appear in the doorway, you would gawk at him and ask: 

“Stiles? What are you doing? Did you… forget something?” 

But you would be positioned half leaning over the bed, taking back the covers so it would be comfortable for you to sleep - and your ass would be unintentionally on full display. Your sweet pussy lips peeking at him from behind, the roundness of your ass so fucking inviting, daring him to leave bite marks across the beautifully fat flesh. 

And after a few moments of him staring so brazenly, saying nothing, simply drinking in the gorgeous sight of your body bent over, wearing so little clothing, wearing those perfect little lace panties-

(Stiles sped up his hand on his cock, the lube sounding downright sloppy in the silence of the room.) 

You would stand up to your full height, come to him in the doorway, put your face so close to his and say: 

“If you’re gonna spend so much time staring at me like a gaping idiot, then you should do something about it.” 

Stiles had to stop the swift movements of his hand and clutch his grip tightly around the base of his cock, making his entire dick throb hard as he edged off his own orgasm. 

He still wasn’t sure why the idea of you calling him an ‘idiot’ in such a brazen tone made him want to cum so hard - but he didn’t have time to unpack all that now. 

He grabbed up the panties again with his non-lubed hand. Something in the back of his mind thought that it would be a crime for him to get them dirty. Another part argued that he would absolutely love to get them covered in his cum, not clean them, and then return them to you. That it would be fucking thrilling to have you wear them in that dirtied state. 

Though he knew that would never fucking happen. 

If he returned the panties to you covered in his cum, then you would slap him, call him a pervert, and likely have Scott beat the shit out of him with his newly harnessed werewolf strength. Stiles pushed this thought to the back of his mind, though. 

Out of curiosity, he lifted the fabric to his nose and took a whiff. They smelled like fresh laundry - a nice lemony detergent. Of course they weren’t ones you had previously worn - they were a pair you had been planning on wearing tomorrow. 

He distantly wondered if that meant you would not be wearing underwear tomorrow, because he had taken your intended pair. And that could have led his mind down a whole different filthy track, but instead - he began to wonder what a pair of your dirty underwear might smell like. 

You should take a pair of used ones. A voice in his mind told him. Snatch them right out of the hamper. Come on, you’re over at her place all the time. She won’t even notice them gone. 

Terrible idea. Terrible rabbit hole. 

But what would they smell like? 

He wasn’t deluded enough to think that pussy smelled like roses. He had never been close enough to one - a real pussy - before to actually know. Yes, he was a virgin. He could have said that he was waiting, ‘saving it’ for you - but every other girl, including you, was smart enough to look past him. There were plenty of other guys who were better looking and more charming than him, and probably better in bed than him, that girls had chosen instead of him. 

He wondered if your pussy smelled like that perfect bit of sweat that you gathered at the end of a long day. Sometimes when he went to hug you before the two of you parted ways, he would catch a whiff of the tiniest undertone of musk, a good amount of sweat paired with the berry scented body spray you had put on that morning, and orange tic-tacs you had popped after lunch. It was a delectable combination. 

He imagined that your cunt would smell like that bit of sweat, combined with the blueberry body wash you used - the one he knew about and loved because of the time you had insisted he use your shower while stinking up a study session because he had skipped the showers after lacrosse practice when he was late to be with you. 

He imagined getting hints of that blueberry body wash smell coming off your thighs when his head was buried between them. What would your cunt taste like? That was a mystery he wanted to solve live. 

He could always imagine the other aspects so well. 

He could imagine the feeling of the heat under his tongue, the perfect feeling of your wetness mixing with his spit. He imagined getting to bounce your swollen clit against his tongue and while feeling your moans and cries of his name vibrate through your body as he pleasured you so well - the feeling of your pubes brushing against his cheeks as his entire face became soaked with your wetness. 

But the taste - that was something he could never conjure up in his mind, no matter how hard he tried. 

He knew that eating your pussy would be perfect. Not just because he would be giving you pleasure, serving you. But he so often dreamed of having his head smothered by your thighs, having you grab his head and shove him tighter into your cunt, you purposeful and demanding. You having that beautiful control over him while he drowned in your wetness. 

He knew that he would likely cum in his pants from eating you out if he ever got the privilege of doing so, and even if you laughed at him - stupidly, he would find that hot too. 

Stiles picked up the pace again, pumping his cock in hand evenly and firmly - even reaching down with the other hand to cradle his balls, gently rolling the flesh in his hand as he got lost in another fantasy of you. 

He imagined the two of you in his bed - textbooks forgotten and pushed off onto the floor, your dress hiked up around your hips, and again, those fucking purple lace panties. He was on top of you, hovering on his knees so that his hard cock wouldn’t brush against you (even through his jeans) while the two of you sloppily made-out. 

It wasn’t long before you pulled away from his kiss-swollen lips. 

“Stiles,” You purred into his ear, kissing along his neck. “You know, you’re so pathetic.” 

These words had his cock jumping, spurting out precum - in his fantasy, it made his underwear messy as you undid his fly. 

In the real world, it made his hand messy as he continued to rhythmically jerk his cock. 

“I’m not gonna let you fuck me.” You told him, contrasting these words with your intentions as you put your hands inside his waistband and shoved his pants and underwear down over his hips - down to his knees until his hard, throbbing cock was exposed. “Not until you prove yourself.” 

Before Stiles could ask the question, the beautiful, fantastic you that he had made up inside his mind gave him the perfect answer. 

“Get yourself off by rubbing your pathetic dick against my panties. And then - I might let you fuck me.” 

In the real world, Stiles let out a throttled moan - a choked sound that surely would have had his father knocking on the door to ask if he was okay if he was at home. And then he rushed to grab the panties again, and without even thinking, he used his sticky lubed up hand to position the fabric around his dick. It was a coarse roughness compared to the slick smoothness he had previously been feeling, but it did wonders to complete his fantasy as he delved back to the you inside of his mind. 

He started rubbing the slightly lube-sticky rough fabric up and down his dick at a very slow pace as he imagined it: 

Being perched between your thighs, with the fabric of the panties stuck to your wet cunt, his cock hard and leaking as he tucked himself right up against you and began to rub his dick against you in order to get off. Just like you wanted, just like you had ordered him to do. 

“Please.” Stiles chanted, the words leaking out of his lips, chanted into his empty bedroom as he pleaded to the imaginary you that would always have a hold over him - just as tight of a hold as the real you had. “Please, please - oh fuck.” 

He moved the fabric over his cock faster as he moved his hips faster in the fantasy, imagining how hot your pussy would feel against him, imagining your nails digging into his hips as you looked up at him with mocking and adoration in your eyes. He imagined you forcing his hips faster, trapping him in place with your knees bracketed around his thighs, showing him absolutely no mercy. 

“Please, please, please.” He chanted, knowing with a distant part of his mind that he must have sounded utterly delirious. “Please, Y/N, lemme cum-” 

“Cum for me, Stiles.” 

Confirmed by that fantasy version of you and truly unable to hold it any longer, Stiles arched up off the bed, cumming all over his own fist. Just as he had predicted, it was an utter, uncontrollable mess. He shot cum all over his stomach, and absolutely soaked the fabric of the panties - making a horrible mess of them. Which, the lube had definitely already done. He laid there for a single moment catching his breath before it truly hit him. 

Fuck. He had fucked up. 

You would definitely notice the underwear missing after a while and he certainly couldn’t return them to you in this condition. 

… 

Stiles spent the next hour in the bathroom, absolutely panicking over how to get them clean. Luckily, he wasn’t a total idiot and he looked up the washing instructions online - and after hand-washing them in warm water with a ‘gentle’ detergent (handsoap was the best that he could do), they came out perfectly clean. 

The only problem? 

Hang to dry. 

He set his alarm for early, earlier than you suggested, and prayed that he wouldn’t sleep through it. In fact, he set three more alarms just to make sure. He couldn’t have you or his father barging into his room to wake him up when he had a pair of your stolen panties pinned to his corkboard in order to properly dry them so that he could sneak them back to you in good condition. 

… 

The next day, he departed for school by 6:45 with the stolen goods hidden away in his bag, ready to sneak them back into your room later that afternoon. He made it to the library ten whole minutes before seven, and you seemed shocked that he was not only on time - but early. 

“Wow.” You said, having just gotten there yourself, spreading out your items at a table - including a tray with some coffees. “You know, Stiles, I am impressed.” 

“You don’t have to act so - so shocked.” He replied, partially interrupted by a yawn. 

You leaned over to get a pen from your bag, and Stiles’s eyes immediately went to your ass, unconsciously trying to spot panty lines through your dress and tights - wondering if you were even wearing underwear because he had stolen the ones you had intended for today. 

Focus, Stiles. Focus. 

“Well, if you weren’t here by seven sharp like I told you, I was gonna pour this in the garbage.” You told him, taking his coffee out of the paper tray and sliding it toward him. 

“You don’t have to be so mean.” He chuckled, airy and light - very secretly annoyed with the way your ‘mean’ streak affected him sometimes. Why did he have to be turned on by you scolding him and punishing him? Why? 

“Hey, if I’m not mean then you never get anything done.” You told him truthfully. “And you know how it works by now. Good boys get rewards and bad boys get spanked.” You told him, letting out a bright laugh - indicating that it was clearly meant to be a joke. 

But instantly, it shook his mind with imagery of you bending him over the table, ripping his pants down and spanking him until he came untouched and cried for mercy, forcing him to agree that he would behave and listen to you. He became downright dizzy at the thought. 

You meant it as a joke - he had to sharply remind himself. But the way you so casually called him a ‘good boy’, said that he was deserving of a ‘reward’ - it sent chills down his spine and already had his cock waking up. Too early. Bad rabbit hole. 

If he was any sort of brave, he would have pushed it more and asked you what kind of ‘reward’ you had in mind. But he wasn’t, and he was too tired to analyze the potential consequences. 

“Oh!” You said, as though suddenly remembering something. You moved to grab your bag again and Stiles closed his eyes to forcefully keep himself from staring at your ass. “You left this at my place last night.” You told him, sliding his English textbook across the table toward him. 

He was too busy trying to calm his own lust that he missed the smirk on your face - the mischief lingering in your eyes, the intention in your tone. He was too caught up, drowning in his own affections for you that he never would have pieced together that you had taken in and hidden it on purpose as a ploy to get him to come back. That you had put out some other bait for him to find. 

“Thanks.” He said quietly. “So - what do we need to go over before the test?”

“Everything.” 

Stiles groaned.

...

A/N: Yes, there is a sequel for this fic in my drafts. It is something that I worked on during my hiatus. It's 10k long, and it's pretty much done.

If you would like to see the sequel edited and posted in a timely manner, I would like to see at least 30 reblogs and 25 comments on this fic - in the form of replies or anon asks.

102 people liked the preview for this fic and I know a lot of people are interested in it, so I am only asking for a 1/4 of the people who liked the preview to interact this fic before I release the sequel. But please, keep comments to the content of this fic rather than just asking for the next part to be released.

If you want to be tagged in the next part, you can ask to be put on my Teen Wolf taglist by interacting with this post, but please know that if you don't follow my taglist rules, you will be removed from the taglist promptly. If that happens, you are still welcome to read and enjoy future fics, you just won't be included in my taglists ever again.

Happy reading, and I hope you enjoyed the fic!!

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

POPULAR DEREK SIMPING FOR NERD STILESSS (please <333)

Sure thing!

Come Along Because I Love Your Face by cardel

(1/1 I 1,035 I General)

Derek doesn’t mean to stare, he knows it’s rude but he can’t seem to help it. The guy has been talking to his circle of friends for the better part of the lunch period and they’re all listening, riveted, just like Derek.

Hot Nerd Alert by alisvolatpropiis

(1/1 I 4,537 I Not Rated)

Derek can't believe he's actually doing this: taking a selfie snap of the guy he’s been crushing on for weeks to prove to Danny that one, yes, he really does exist, and two, he really is that hot and thus he is totally justified in being too scared to make a move.

Or you know, even talk to the guy outside of the class they share.

In his defense, this isn’t just any guy. This THE guy. Hot Nerd. The utterly adorable but still somehow insanely sexy freshman in his twentieth century American Lit class who he’s been lusting over since the first day of the semester. If there were ever a time for him to be that person who tries to be subtle while taking snaps of other people, this is it.

Game On by stilinskisparkles

(1/1 I 6,391 I Teen)

Derek first sees him from across the quad four days into fall semester. He’s sitting on one of the long benches, a marker pen in his mouth, grinning at something the kid lounging on the bench beside him is saying. When he laughs properly he pulls the pen out and throws his head back, his neck a long, lean line Derek is entranced by. He flicks the page in his book and highlights something, tossing the cap up in the air and catching it with his teeth.

Playing Hard To Get by stereksterek

(3/3 I 6,911 I Not Rated)

“Is that your best pick-up line?”

Derek was taken aback by the blatant call-out from his clearly intelligent mate, but if anything it just made him grin.

“I can do better.”

“Then why would you start with something that wasn’t your best? Maybe you’re not really that interested in me and could go and reflect on that somewhere else?”

Before Derek could refute his mate’s doubt with all the ferocity of his wolf, Stiles turned back to the bookshelf and continued searching for the book he'd been looking for. Apparently his mate wanted to play hard to get, but that was fine with Derek. He didn’t mind a challenge.

“Trust me. No one could be more interested in you than me.”

living in a movie i've watched by thoughtsandthings

(13/13 I 20,995 I Teen)

Stiles scrambles to his feet and holds his hand over his heart like he’s about to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. “I solemnly swear I will try my damnedest to woo the crap out of Derek Hale.”

Scott laughs and tosses a couch pillow at his head. “Deal."

Stiles and Scott shake on it.

But Then What... by Stoney

(3/3 I 24,343 I Explicit)

Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He's someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn't like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn't attracted to him.

Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

[kittenshift-17]

Omg I feel like any teen wolf fic (sterek fic) you write would be amazing, on that topic ur an amazing writer and I’m glad that one day I stumbled upon one of your fics. And also speaking of sterek fics (or any teen wolf fic) do u have and recommendations on what to read for that fandom???

Okay, so I took my time with this one because I had read some, but not a lot... but oh boy, did I deep dive into the research to bring you some top tier Sterek Fic Recs.

TOP 20 STEREK RECS

Play It Again by metisket ***I LOVED THIS ONE***

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

So Shed Your Skin and Lets Get Started by halfhardtorock

He's sixteen and in the woods on the wrong side of the town-line and he's so fucking fucked.

He knows he's not supposed to run, they teach that to you in preschool (don't run from a Were, back away slowly and walk with care), but they never told you how it would feel, standing alone in the dark with your heart beating in your throat as those glowing eyes tracked you from the shadows.

Don't Feed the Wolves by Amazonia_8

Stiles took the dare, because what else was he supposed to do when the whole lacrosse team was chanting his name? Even though the werewolf pack had left Beacon Hills years ago, nobody was stupid enough to set foot on the Hale property.

Except, apparently, Stiles.

Now he's got a feral werewolf following him around town with the sole purpose of claiming Stiles as his own.

so now you've got the best of me (come on and take the rest of me) by mangotangos

"It doesn't matter how hot Derek is, how Stiles barely comes up to his shoulders or how Derek's hands could probably fit really snugly around his waist. None of it matters, because he's basically a glorified babysitter for the foreseeable future and Stiles wants him out. Operation annoy Deputy Derek Hale into leaving begins now."

~or, the one where Stiles' dad hires Deputy Derek to be Stiles' bodyguard, Stiles hates him on principle and then 2 seconds later falls in lust (and love) and tries to seduce him into bed with his sexual prowess.

There Are No Wolves In California by kitsunequeen

Hunter!Stiles accidentally hits a wolf with his car and can't bear to leave him in the road to die. It's not till he gets the wolf home that he sees its eyes glow red... ------- Even everyday roadkill is upsetting, but this thing… Moments ago it was probably a majestic beast, and now it’s a mangled pile of soon-to-be rotting flesh. He presses a shaking hand to the only part of its chest left intact, not even thinking about whether it'll give him rabies or some other awful disease.

He’s about to pull back when something even crazier happens.

He realizes the wolf is breathing.

(not so) Pure Imagination by theroguesgambit

"There is a world where whenever someone fantasizes about you, you can physically feel it, but you have no idea who is thinking it about you."

Stiles knows it's wrong, but he's been Fantasizing about Derek and he can't bring himself to stop. Derek doesn't know who's taken an interest in him, but he's enjoying it way more than he probably should.

Little Wild Animal by DiscontentedWinter

Derek Hale finds a feral human on his pack's property. Humans are supposed to be extinct. But then, Stiles is full of surprises.

The Darkness Inside by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

The sheriff watched him for a moment, then he sighed and turned slightly. He reached out to open a cabinet door beside him, and pulled out a shelf. It was on a track, so it rolled out of the cabinet fairly easily, and held a small CCTV. Derek frowned and inched his chair to the side a little bit so he could get a better angle.

He was looking at a teenager, or someone at least young enough to be the same age as Scott. He was sitting on a bed in what looked to be a larger room, the area he was in surrounded by four glass walls, with his legs crossed and head tilted.

He was also staring directly into the camera, as if he knew someone was watching. A creepy smile slowly slid onto the teen’s face, and he held up one hand, wiggling his fingers in a slow, eery wave.

Derek felt his mouth run dry. He didn’t know who this kid was, but he didn’t like him.

“Who is that?” he asked quietly.

“That,” said the sheriff, “is my son.”

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm for missingsun

There's something weird about Beacon Hills that Stiles can't quite put his finger on. The way everyone in town knows his name the day he arrives. The way they insist the melancholic howling that echoes through the forest every night is just a dog. The way his dad denies getting a dog, even though Stiles comes home to find one sprawled across his bed, some big black thing whose eyes gleam red in the right light. The way that massive oak tree out in the woods vibrates under his touch, pulsing with sickly life.

There's something weird going on in this town, and Stiles is determined to get to the bottom of it.

Patterns of Intention by drunktuesdays

Derek looked like the stuff of his deepest fantasies. His shirt was rumpled where Stiles had his hands in it, and he was breathing hard as well, chest heaving. His eyes—his eyes were glazed over and he looked stunned, like he’d been—like Stiles had—

“No,” Stiles said, blood draining from his face. The word was croaky and felt like it had to be wrenched out of his chest. “God, no.”

Wants & Needs by MadcapRomantic

Derek Hale has been participating in the Beacon Hills Mating Run for a decade, each year coming up without a mate. His mother, convinced this is his lucky year, persuades him to run one last time.

Enter Stiles, a young Omega with an unwanted Alpha nipping at his heels.

Family or not, Peter is determined to have Stiles.

But convinced they are True Mates, there isn't anything Derek won't do to keep Stiles safe.

I don't know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22 for xXxClassifiedxXx 

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”

He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.

Or the one where Stiles goes thrift shopping and steals an alpha's shirt. And gets a lot more than he bargains for.

Sleeping Dogs by starsystems

Let sleeping dogs lie. Prov. Do not instigate trouble.;Leave something alone if it might cause trouble.

Derek Hale is asleep in Stiles's bed. And it just escalates from there.

Because of course it does.

We've Written Volumes (in Blood and Scars and Ink) by notthequiettype

Stiles is on his back on hard-packed dirt. He's cold and there are leaves stuck to his neck and there's a four inch gash in his side that he thinks he can feel his ribs through. There's so much blood around him he feels like he's floating on a pond and everything is so much dimmer above him than it was a minute ago, which is saying something because he's in the dark center of the forest in the middle of the night. And the worst of it is that he's alone, totally alone with the smell of his own blood drowning him and the soft side of him run through by a tree.

As his eyes slip shut, the last thing he thinks is, "This is going to kill my dad."

In Case You Didn't Know by Blu_Crowe

Stiles moves into the lofts, and he and Derek start to get closer. Unfortunately Stiles is a moron, and Derek is bad at feelings. They figure it out... Eventually.

Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.” 



“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly. 



Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding: 



DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

Lock All The Doors Behind You by entanglednow

He has no idea what you're supposed to say when you find one of your...werewolf acquaintances, completely out of their mind, growling like they're about to see what your insides taste like. There's no handbook for this. Stiles is thinking that if he survives he might write one.

Feral Formalities by Aleandri

"There was silence as no one seemed to breath at the table.

Derek had just gifted Stiles, an unmated Omega, with food.

Right in front of another Alpha.

Who he was on a date with.

To discuss being heat partners...."

*In which, Stiles presents as Omega, and everyone wants a piece of the alpha-baby-making ass!*

for a good time, call... by EvanesDust for kalika_999

Stiles unlocks his phone to send out a quick text asking his father what he wants to eat, even though he’ll get salad regardless, and notices a strange number on his recent call log.

His face scrunches in confusion before realization dawns on him.

Oh shit.

Events from the night before peek through the hazy fog of his mind. Stiles thought, or he was hoping, that the phone call was a dream. But there it is, staring at him in the face—a one minute and 57-second call to an unfamiliar number.

Oh God.

Did he seriously call someone—possibly an alpha werewolf!—for phone sex?

...Or the one where Stiles drunk dials a very grumpy alpha werewolf and propositions him for phone sex. Hilarity, misunderstandings, and feelings ensue.

Golden Boy by trilliath 

Apparently it still amuses his uncle to buy sex slaves for him, no matter how steadfastly he refuses to use them. Derek ducks into his tent with a resigned sigh, prepared to dress and reassign whatever new beauty Peter has bought him. They do make for loyal servants, so he can't really complain about Peter's 'gifts'. But it is annoying to deal with, to have to spend his evening sorting out a slave instead of being able to go right to bed. It's just something he has to learn to accept as a byproduct of serving alongside his uncle.

But when he lays eyes on the boy laying amid his furs, he finds his breath catching in his throat. His skin is golden with the candle-light glimmering against the sheen of oil that has been slathered on his bared body. His lips are parted, and they work over inaudible words or sounds. His skin is flushed, nipples peaked and pierced with simple but unexpected golden rings. He's spectacularly beautiful in the candlelight. The many glowing candles that have been added to his usual lighting cast glittering edges and shadows, imbuing an almost unearthly golden color to his skin.

It's enough that Derek hesitates.

[patolemus]

Sterek fic recs: Fake Dating AU Edition

Because @oldefashioned requested a fake dating rec list, here it is. These are all very funny, as fake dating fics ought to be, so I hope you get a good laugh out of it.

1. Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Notes: Domestic pack, my beloved. Stiles and Derek are precious here, I LOVE THEM!! The visiting pack, not so much, but who cares about them?? It's all pretty lighthearted, all things considered. It's completed.

2. Electricity In the Contact by ladyblahblah

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

Notes: Werewolf convention fics are so good! I actually haven't found all that many, considering how common a trope it is, and it's a tragedy because they're always so well done! This one is no exception, and the mini-world building is also great! It's completed.

3. can’t be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma." (Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Notes: this one is just *cheff´s kiss* wonderful! It's all pretty domestic and the humor is on point. College student Stiles and the Sheriff are strong armed into spending Thanksgiving with Stiles' grandma, and they find nothing better than to bring Derek with them. Pining and misunderstandings ensue and thus comes the fake dating. It's completed.

4. Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi

“Three weeks,” Derek says. “Still don’t want to,” Stiles says. “I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so… “How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“ “My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.” “A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

Notes: this had such a chokehold on me when I first read it. Absolutely wonderful. Enemies to lovers?? Maybe. Assholes to assholes-in-love, is a better descriptor. There's werewolves, and magic, and it's awesome! It's completed.

5. He’s Not Mine by Sonnee

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

Notes: again, it's all very domestic, like most fake dating fics ought to be. It's a kid fic, Sterek are mates, we have all the love. Not much else I can think to add... it's completed.

6. Real life isn’t a movie (life doesn’t make narrative sense) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.

Notes: this one had me cracking up because it's so funny! Stiles is living his best life, for real. Derek... suffers. But it's okay, because he gets a boyfriend out of this whole thing! They are disgustingly sweet in that assholish way they have. It's completed.

7. You look like my next mistake by Vendelin

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes. His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to. In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Notes: this one had me HOWLING it's so good!! Frat boy Stiles, my beloved. It's technically not fake dating because it turns into an actual relationship pretty quickly, but it starts as fake dating so I'll take it. Stiles is an absolute sweetheart in this one, I love him! And Derek is shy, and insecure, but he's so great, and everyone gets a happy ending except Kate, which is always a good thing. It's completed.

8. All’s Fair In Orgasms and War by bleepobleep

AVN BREAKING NEWS-- DIAMOND VISTA RIDGE BREAKS HIS CONTRACT WITH HALE HOUSE "We haven't seen much of our favorite rock hard stud from Hale House ever since that indie twink dethroned him as champion in Orgasm Wars, but it's just been confirmed that Diamond will no longer be working for the legendary studio famous for producing some of our favorite werewolf-on-human works. Don't fret, Diamond fans, it looks like he's been spotted cozying up to True Alpha Studios! Apparently he couldn't get enough of that one human and then followed him home. Could it be true love? Keep your eye on this studio-- us at AVN think we're about to get a lot more of Diamond in a very new way!" ~ The one in which (almost) everyone is a porn star, and Derek just wants to curl up with his fluffy blanket and watch the Hallmark channel, but work and falling in love gets in the way.

Notes: okay but is this fake dating? Maaaaaybe. It's kinda complicated. Basically everyone here is a porn star and the pack has this studio where they cater to werewolves and have a whole thing about established relationships, which is where the fake dating comes up. It's surprisingly very fluffy, considering this is a porn au, and Derek is the softest goober in this one. Stiles is completely enamoured. It's completed.

9. Wanted from the You Are series by Asterekmess (Livinginfiction)

With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek's mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He's doomed.

Notes: Alright so this series is wonderful. The world building done for the Alpha pack is also great, and that's the center of the second part (which has the fake dating). I do recommend reading the first part before jumping on to Wanted because it is a direct continuation. Also, it's an amazing au! It's completed.

10. For Love is Not Ours to Command by weathervaanes

Where Derek's skills at thinking on his feet mean that he and Stiles have to act. For the sake of Stiles' dad, of course, for the sake of the pack. No personal interest interference at all, whatsoever. Right. -0- “Why does my dad say that you and your boyfriend are a bad influence on me?” “What?” “Yeah, what boyfriend? Dude, you are not allowed to not tell me crap like this. You didn't think I'd like be a douchebag or something. Right?” “No, wait, what? I have no boyfriend.” “He says you were with him at the police station.” Stiles blinks. “Uhm. Oh shit.”

Notes: Stiles just wanted to find dirt on Raphael McCall to blackmail him. Somehow, he got himself a whole ass boyfriend. It's complicated. That's it, that's the fic. It's completed.

11. Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MareLoup

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.” “Oh thank god!” “Stiles?” “I, uh, I need some advice.” “Advice?” “Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?” Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.” “That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.” “Stiles...what are you doing right now?” *** Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work. Partly because their visit was a complete surprise. But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend. Or even know who Derek was. But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

Notes: this is to date one of my favorite Sterek fics. I laughed so much while reading this, I'm not even joking. The whole thing is a comedy of errors gone right. Stiles somehow finds himself pretending to be Derek's boyfriend, only he has no idea who Derek even is and why his family knows Stiles at all. His inner monologue is one of the funniest I've read, and his slow descent into (good natured) madness is wonderful. It's completed.

12. Love Like An Ache In The Jaw by Anonymous

“So let me get this straight,” The sheriff massages his temples, “You found a magic book, and performed a magic spell that has backfired and magically bound you to Derek Hale, rendering you both in agony if you’re not in the same room.” Derek and Stiles exchange a look. “Um. Yes.” Stiles says sheepishly. “Right. And just to be clear, when we’re talking agony… exactly how agonizing is the agony?” Derek clears his throat. “Sir, I’ve had a pole stabbed through my chest and held there for an hour. This was… similar.” - In which boredom, magic and dumbassery come together to produce a Christmas miracle slash disaster. Oh, and Stiles' grandmother who knows absolutely nothing about the supernatural happens to be in town. Oops.

Notes: another hilarious one. Stiles does Stiles things and ends up magically bound to Derek. No one is amused except Stiles' grandmother, who's having the time of her life, here. It's completed!

[christinesficrecs]

Hi Christine, I know this is a long shot but long story short - lost my saves file a while ago and cannot find many of most favourite fics, I have countless quotes saved from them. I am sharing some with you in hopes people recognise the fics they're from if you post this. I will love you forever.

Derek’s first kiss in four years tastes like fresh-squeezed orange juice and makes his stomach flip like the drop in a rollercoaster. Stiles holds him close like he’s thanking him.

About the summer he spent in Ireland because there were pictures of his mom posed in various tourist sites at Dublin and Dingle and the Giant’s Causeway--places that he wanted to experience personally since he never got to ask her first-hand.

Derek looked at him for a moment, and wow, okay, this was why people wrote songs about love and painted pictures and wrote poetry, because he was pretty sure that he was falling in love with Derek Hale if only because of the guy's beautiful eyes and earnest expressions and his everything. God.

In some ways Stiles has done a lot of growing up since then, but a part of him thinks he’ll always be that scrawny, ridiculous kid at heart, whose greatest joys in life were Froot Loops, cheesy disco tunes, and masturbation.

Stiles gets back from his year abroad in Hungary with more muscles and the first of his tattoos, a knotted rope that runs the length of his spine.

Hey, Derek, can you do me a solid? Nothing serious, just, you know, screw my brains out, that’s all.

He meets Stiles’ gaze from where he's leaning against the back wall, his eyes catching glints of light amid the shadows. Certain people are just meant to live under the open sky.

Whatever he says afterwards, whatever happens between them, there will always be this, the long late afternoon with the sun skidding red in the west, and he will always know what Stiles looked like the first time someone filled him up to the hilt. There are no acrobatics. Nothing fancy happens. Derek feels like the ocean breaking helplessly on the shore, the tide rising, spilling him over.

there’s something about the shape of him, the way he’s huge and solid and beautiful and always thirty seconds away from admitting total defeat that rubs Stiles raw and tender.

“People are so exhausting,” he murmurs, and Stiles is glad to know it: that he isn’t people, that he counts as a kind of between places, maybe even as home.

Updating with the ones that magv1 found. Thank you!!!

Hot Single Dad Derek Hale by WhoNatural | 13.3K | Explicit

Wherein Derek is a Hot Single Dad, possibly with a little case of martyrdom, and Stiles is the newest client at his publishing house who really just wants to make him happy. Preferably while they're both naked.

^^^^^ #1 & 2

But Then What... by Stoney | 24.3K | Explicit

Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He's someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn't like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn't attracted to him.

Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

^^^^^ #3

My Life is not a Horror Movie, Derek by DiscontentedWinter | 38.9K | Explicit

Stiles keeps dreaming of people in robes with knives. With chanting. In Latin. And he mentioned the knives, right? That can't be good.

^^^^^ #4

i need your sway by thatworldinverted | 11.1K | Explicit

Stiles always figured it would be Scott who saw him through his first heat. They pinky-swore on it, in fact, when they were eleven and newly-presented. There haven’t exactly been an abundance of offers between then and now.

What there is now, though, is the pack, and pack takes care of each other.

^^^^^ #6

Sucker Love by whiskey_in_tea | 17.9K | Explicit

Kate sits up and narrows her eyes at him. “Page 72,” she says. “Why I Plan to Wait, by Stiles Stilinski.”

The spread is hilariously cliched: a full page picture of a pale, pretty boy with a wide-eyed blonde girl walking on the beach, the two of them holding hands and staring into the waves, probably thinking wistfully of the sex they aren’t having. Derek skims the text briefly. “Speaking up about the importance of virginity!” he exclaims. “Reclaiming chastity a a masculine virtue. Our friend Stiles sure is brave.”

“See, I was thinking he might make an interesting challenge,” Kate says lazily. “And he’s surprisingly attractive, don’t you think? Such long fingers. And that mouth.”

^^^^^ #8

[strangerquinns]

Hello 👋 !

- Scolding them for doing something stupid, wondering "why did I have to fall for you" and not realising that you just said that out loud

With Stiles ? ✨

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Scolding them for doing something stupid, wondering “why did I have to fall for you” and not realizing that you just said that out loud

send in a prompt / masterlist 

"Can we please not act as bait for the suicidal werewolves?" You spoke, your face showing how dumbfounded were as you looked at him.

From the corner of the room, you saw Scott sitting on the edge of Stiles' bed. Over the last few weeks, there had been a new pack that had arrived at Beacon Hills and was making it more than obvious they wanted to cause nothing but trouble. From attacking citizens and even causing a few of the pack members to dance on the brink of death, it was coming to the point where you all had to step in.

"I mean do you have any suggestions?" Stiles asked, "We have to draw them out."

"Anything other than sacrificing ourselves!" You screamed, letting out a groan before closing your eyes, "When has that ever worked for us in the past?"

"We're all alive aren't we?" Stiles shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh my god,"

"Stiles, I agree with Y/N...let's think of something else this time," Scott spoke

"Thank you, Scott, the voice of reason per usual." You shook your head and looked and thought to yourself, “Why did I have to fall for you, and not Scott."

Except you didn't think that you mutter it low beneath your breath.

Stiles' eyes widened in shock as he stared at you and the room began to tense. A deep set of confusion came over your face as you looked between your two friends. Scott had a smile he was trying to hide, but Stiles' face was in complete shock.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked

"W-What did you just say?" Stiles asked, taking a few small steps towards you.

"That Scott was the voice of reason?"

"No, no...after that...you said something." Stiles rushed out. Scott took that as a moment to leave, giving the two of you some privacy.

But he also couldn't stop smiling hoping now would be the moment his two best friends would finally admit their feelings for each other.

You stared at him for a moment not understanding what Stiles was trying to say, till it finally dawned on you. Your eyes went wide as you came to the realization that you'd said your confession out loud.

"Fuck, no...no, no" You shook your head and cringed slightly, "Please tell me you didn't hear anything...please..."

Stiles moved closer to you and gently caressed your face, directing you to look up should see the panic clear in your eyes. But when you looked at him, and his softened features, all you felt was love. It made butterflies erupt in your belly as you felt his warm touch caress your face.

"Please, tell that I heard you correctly, t-that you..." Stiles laughed lightly. "Do you have feelings for me?"

You felt hot suddenly, "I-I...yes...I-I do..."

A large smile spread across his face before he moved quickly and bent down to kiss you deeply. He left you breathless for a moment before your lips moved against his. You'd dreamed of kissing Stiles and always trying to imagine what it would be like. But never did you expect it to be like this. For his lips to feel so perfect against yours.

The two of you only pulled apart as the need for air became too much. But the two of you didn't separate you too much, with his forehead pressing against yours.

"I have waited years to finally hear you say that," Stiles smiled, his hands moving down to wrap around you.

"With that kiss...I'm guessing you feel the same?" You laughed lightly

"Of course, I do baby. Been in love with you since the fifth grade"

Stiles bent down and kiss you again, a little softer this time, before pulling back.

"Now we really gotta come up with a better plan," You whispered "Cause the one you came up with was shit..."

Stiles faked insult as he looked down at you, "What? That was a good plan."

"No, that was terrible." You shook your head and stepped back out of his arms.

[theo-raeken-appreciation]

got any theo fic recs?

of course!!! let me pull up my faves, linking them under the cut cause it might get long (also some fics are nsfw some aren't i didnt tag them all bc by the time i realized i had been through so many already)

Theo Raeken Centric (sometimes gen/sometimes w/pairings)

Why are Werewolves Always Teens? by Everlasting_mediocrity 

Crossover. In which Tony Stark is Theo Raeken’s biological father and they’re going to have to do some growing about it. Thiam. Ongoing.

i lost my heart under the bridge by infernal_gay_mess

"The Doctors said, years later, that Theo had taught them that true evil came from corrupting something truly good. What they didn’t tell him was that the best way to make someone into a monster was to convince them they already were one." Angst & Tragedy

blood is running deep, some things never sleep by likelightninginabottle 

Aka theo raeken’s mid-season six hot girl summer. Introspective. Thiam. 

a rose that won’t bloom by wormhusk

not theo centric, but a cute fic about stiles-scott-theo as kids and theo being scott’s first crush. thiam. 

pyrrhic victory of knowing yourself by painting_ethereal

a two part series of stolen memories, theo joining the mccall pack, leaving, and choosing to come back

even in the darkest places, flowers grow by strawberxi (Tupipsie)

a theo raeken-centric fic where he grapples with his sister's birthday, and the implication that he doesn't have to do everything alone. Thiam

On Theo Raeken and Manipulation by wormhusk

Theo Raeken Did Nothing Wrong 2k23. Not A Fic/Pure Meta

Thiam

Secondary Drowning by marrowbite(wingfooted)

in which theo is a selkie. 

hey i think he likes you (but honey, i do too) by fallingforboys

in which liam is oblivious and wants to help theo get a boyfriend. 

Im not ready to die yet, should i pray? (i’m wasting time, haunted by the ghost of you) by petitommo

the one where theo leaves for Florida. out of necessity, not choice. voicemails, missing liam, waiting–and going home. 

tell me no more secrets, i’ll tell you no more lies by likelightninginabottle

“You were attacked. It was self defense.” Theo. “Okay, but what if it wasn’t.” Liam

when oblivion is calling out your name, you always take it further than i ever can by likelightninginabottle

In which Liam is terribly high and completely smitten, Theo is allergic to emotions and totally whipped, Mason has the patience of a saint, and everybody wins, except for Stiles

when you crave someone (to be there at dawn) by likelightninginabottle

(In which, for once, Liam and Theo aren't oblivious, even if the pack very much is.) Post-Monroe, Pack in College, Thiam Being Shameless

burning bright red till the end (now you’ll be missing from the photographs by likelightninginabottle

MCD, Angst

You Missed, Dumbass by Sailorscout7

(OR 2 times Liam trying to kiss Theo ended in disaster and 1 time it mostly didn't)

a fire without a spark by lexisaurus

Liam asks are you alright? it never occurs to Theo that Liam could be asking him, too.

Commemoration, Cauterized by Ty_Winn_Roa

Meeting his parents for the first time in a decade is terrible enough without having to do it all over again. And again. And again. But Theo's never done anything halfheartedly.

Hunting Hearts by l_t_m

“My heart is missing.” Liam blinked. Theo’s way of saying ‘hello’ wasn’t encouraging.

no angels in this bleeding heart town by fallingforboys

“Please don’t make me do this,” Liam says, pleads. His jaw clenches and he squares his shoulders. Theo’s claws flick out.

Happiness is (where you are) by crier_emperor

in which theo gets a home and a hug. Angst. Getting together.

pride before a fall, wolves will keep you warm by likelightninginabottle

Liam comes out of the closet, in more ways than one. Or rather: his friends break him out. Cute, fluffy, and funny

look at the wonderful mess we made, we pick ourselves undone by likelightninginabottle

In which the supernatural does not exist. But Beacon Hills still went through a war, of which this is the aftermath. Liam and Theo pine for each other, but Liam thinks he cannot have Theo and so he dates other people. And yes. They are roommates. Mutual Pining, Jealousy, Misunderstandings.

your slightest look easily will unclose me by likelightninginabottle

Liam thinks about the people who left and how he is almost alright without them. Post-Canon.

just steps across the tower bridge by eneiryu

Guilt, injury, angst–Theo’s body is failing, and he’s hiding it from Liam. Happy Ending.

Use and abuse me ‘til I’m gone by THENINTH09

5 times Liam makes Theo bleed and the one time (two times) he doesn’t.

don’t you hear me howling, babe? by THENINTH09

Theo and Liam in Theo’s truck, after Gabe and the hospital. NSFW

Iron and Copper by TheOceanIsMyInkwell

Or: A witch grants Theo's wish to turn human for a day and be loved for who he is. Liam shows him just what that wish might look like.

drove him underground by justt_ppeachy

Liam and Theo, but they are Orpheus & Eurydice retold. It always ends the same.

so cruelly you kissed me by wormhusk

A series of two one-shots, one with liam realizing his feelings for theo and the second on theo

this love is difficult, but it’s real by wormhusk

a two part series of oneshots with thiam secretly dating, liam telling the pack, it not going well, and the aftermath

all sunny days are on by wormhusk

Remember the hunger games au? This is an alice in borderland au. A lot of people will die but not thiam. incomplete

the smell of smoke would hang around this long by wormhusk

theo quits smoking 

and in ever crowd, it's you i'm looking for by fallingforboys

in which theo is unfortunately very attractive and needs a fake boyfriend at a party--and oh look, liam is right there

Thiam Fics That Are Part of This One Orphaned Series So I Have Put Them Together 

this is why they shouldn’t kill off the main guy by wormhusk

 a first-kiss fic with theo angst and liam bullying theo into staying with him instead of his truck

and i remember thinking by wormhusk

a fic exploring the theo train track theory AKA where they talk about a past suicide attempt

Oh i love it and i hate it at the same time

Established Thiam, Theo gets his wisdom teeth removed.

256,000

The one where Liam calculates how many times Theo died down in Hell and has a panic attack.

cut it out then restart by wormhusk

Theo has a bad day and gives into old habits. Angst. Self-harm

argumentative antithetical dream girl 

it’s a pwp but I'm including it because it's the same ‘verse

i just wanna stay in that lavender haze by wormhusk

thiam get high and and play the 36 questions that lead to love and then have sex about it

and i wouldn’t marry me either

Liam has a plan to propose to his boyfriend. Theo thinks Liam is acting cagey

fighting in only your army

The skinwalkers want Theo back. No one reacts well.

are there still beautiful things

a witch’s curse makes Liam hate the one he loves most–his fiance. Angst.

i know my pain is such an imposition 

the boys finally get to go on their honeymoon. so of course it goes wrong.

long live the look on your face by wormhusk

Theo and Liam go to build-a-bear

he was sunshine i was midnight rain by wormhusk

Liam does a 30-day love challenge

Sceo

Shall I sleep within your bed by voices_in_my_head

In which Theo wasn't expecting to be rescued

fake my heart by LuthienKenobi

In which Theo is captured and a femme fatale all in one

gonna make you a believer by queerebrum

in which the battle is over, the Anuk Ite defeated, and Scott McCall can finally see things clearly–things like how he has been pretending he is not in love with Theo Raeken

Expelliaramus! by tabbytabbytabby

Gryffindor Scott and Slytherin Theo are secretly dating.

Sons of Monsters and Monster Sons by TheOceanIsMyInkwell

“i think,” theo says slowly, “my father tried to kill me when i was seven.” Sceo+Thiam, bc Theo is terribly in love with them both. Child Abuse Mention, as well as Mentions of sexual assault done to Theo by his Father. Theo did NOT have a happy loving childhood.

Unbreakable Heaven by tabbytabbytabby

Theo thinks he and Scott are FWBs while Scott thinks they are dating. Theo starts pulling away once he realizes he has feelings for Scott. Scott wonders what he did to make his boyfriend distant.

our hands dirtied by the other’s desire; i will declare my love with a slaughter by clementinecalls

When they lay in the grass and stare at the stars, Scott runs his thumb over Theo’s wrist. Feeling his pulse steady under his touch. He thinks about the sun in comparison to Theo. He thinks about how he was Icarus and he loved Theo just as he loved the sun — too close, too much.

Homeless Theo/Theo + Pack

Too Afraid to Follow Through by dangerouscoffeetheorist

for your melissa & theo needs, and theo being forced to join the pack against his will. 

wither under the iridescent glow of the sun, moon, and stars by fallingforboys

Theo digs the bullets out himself, using them to cauterize the wounds, and the air around him becomes hot and a little sticky with the smell of his flesh burning, but he ignores it.

He ignores it and saves himself, because that’s all he knows how to do. He saves himself because he knows that no one else would bother trying. (He’s wrong.) Thiam but mostly pack focused

Heart coming up my throat, think I’m getting worse at breathing by Multifandom_damnnation 

Jordan Parrish & Theo. Thiam

murphy’s golden rule: whoever has the gold makes the law by game_ender

Coach Finstock & Theo. In which Theo gets adopted by the Coach. Thiam

Vanlife Style! by onyxthroughtheages

In which Alec and Theo are bffs, Theo was raised in the sewers and so learns about TikTok scandals and instafame through Google, and mentions Liam in almost every TikTok he ever makes.

built a ship in the morning but the hull’s worn through by eneiryu

in which theo makes a deal with the pack: after Monroe, he gets to walk away. Thiam

waves on the ocean for the wavering kind by eneiryu

a two parter series. part one is where Theo leaves Beacon Hills with exactly the same things he came into it with: his truck, a duffel bag full of clothes, and the permanent taste of blood and grave dirt in his mouth. part two is argent’s pov. thiam

Fics That Deserve a Category of Their Own

You only feel one emotion at a time by likelightninginabottle

Theo doesn't feel pain. It makes him reckless. The pack doesn't notice, until they do. Incomplete. Pack Dynamics. Thiam. Theo’s Past, Theo’s Present, and Hopefully, Theo’s Future.

Take my heart (and put it somewhere safe) by not_carrying_on

​​The one where Theo reluctantly helps the pack capture Monroe, deals with the aftermath of his upbringing with the Dread Doctors, saves the lives of not so few people (despite the will to deny it until his dying breath), practically adopts Alec and pulls his head out of his ass.

[gremlinbabe]

Teen wolf headcanons: number????

-Stiles and Erica always have the best snacks Because they’re both insatiable bottomless pits for food.

-Lydia has a secret knife collection and the first one was given to her by Allison’s father before she was even in the pack

-Boyd Is a bachata king (he’s been in classes since junior high) 

-Erica is Peruvian, Portuguese, and Dutch.

- Scott took up boxing classes sometime after his dad left because he wanted to be more macho but quit after somebody clocked him in the jaw and it left his jaw crooked

-Allison is a horse girl.

-Isaac likes going to cat cafes and is regularly given cat ears by other patrons who think he works there

-Cora has participated in underground MMA fights to bring in some extra cash but was actually so good that she ended up with a decent Fanbase

- Peter is a ranch retreat owner and doesn’t tell the pack because he feels like they would crash every weekend just to be petty for all the bullshit he’s done to them

- Jackson’s adoptive parents have been treating him to mani and petti’s ever since he came out to show they’re supportive

- Derek started working part time as a mechanic because of a recommendation from his therapist

-Kira is the fastest in the pack even tho she’s clumsy. Short distance she can even out run the born wolves

-Derek and Mason have weekly Uno matches that last for hours that the entire pack likes to bet on

-Liam plays Pokémon go and is well known for being found in weird places just to catch Pokémon

-Mason is an art student & is extremely good at police sketches and that’s how he got recruited

-Jordan can turn any pool into a hot tub if he tries hard enough

-Derek asked stiles to start taking self-defense classes after Girard

-Kira convinced Malia to crochet every time something upsets her and now the whole pack Owns sweaters, blankets, scarves, and socks. Malia is currently working on hats

-Lydia and Peter regularly gamble and place bets on who will do the most stupid thing in the pack today but neither are allowed to place bets on stiles or Derek

-Stiles purposely learns wind magic just to do aang marble trick from avatar the last Airbender

-Boyd and Isaac have a secret tick-tock account where they regularly post to pack

-The entire pack knows in theory that Peter fucks because there was no other way for Malia to come into existence but still wholeheartedly believe that he got no bitches or swag (except Scott and Allison because peters flirted with both their parents and They don’t want him to actively seduce their parents out of spite so they leave him be)

[whackk-kermitt]

Sorry for the Wait

Warnings: Angst, Slow build, Supernatural Reader, Implied female reader(gender-natural pronouns) Summary: Everyone is born with a mark on their wrist, their soulmate's name. If you're born without one, your soul mate hasn't been born and given a name yet. If your soul mark fades to a murky gray, it means your soulmate has died. Stiles was born with his mark already faded; he had no hope for love.

NOT PROOFREAD

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Stiles was the only person he knew of to hide his mark. For as long as he could remember he covered it with long sleeves and a chunky roped bracelet when it was too hot for a flannel or jacket. Although it was taboo for people to stare at soul marks, they were typically prideful of the names of their fated matches. Nobody ever really covered them up, except stiles.

When he was just five years old the smile he got when peering down at the name died when he learned why his mark so faded out. It had always looked like that. It was normal for him he didn't think much of it. He was still so young, his parents didn't know how to tell him. It wasn't until the first day of school when one of the older kids started bragging about already meeting their soulmate, that other kids started talking about the subject. Stiles knew from what his parents told him that it was rude to stare at someone's mark, or even ask them about it, so he never did. But in that moment all the other kids sharing their names and showing off their marks, Stiles figured what the hell. His smile shined as he showed off his mark and gushed about how pretty his soulmate's name was.

"Dude, your soulmate is dead." The kid he never got the name of said almost as if it was funny to him. long story short, he went home after fighting with the kid, because how dare he. That was when his mother, through guilty tears, told him the truth about his mark.

Stiles's heart was torn into tinny little pieces at the age of five years old. He cried so hard and for so long that his ears rang at the silence when he stopped. Red eyes, puffy cheeks, and red dots from popped blood vessels in his face from screaming out in agony. His mother and father grieved his loss with him. His mother had anger in her. How is it that her beautiful son was robbed of even the happiness that bloomed in her when she finally found his father?

Some people had waited their whole lives for their mark, waiting for their soulmate to be born, but the name never came. Maybe they died before it could happen, maybe they were destined to be alone, and nobody had the answer. Stiles, however, had just missed his, they were at least alive when he was in the womb, but head before he was born. He was robbed. He had thought it would've been better if he hadn't had a mark at all, then it wouldn't feel like something was missing, just something he didn't have.

To this day, stiles still spends time in the backyard, where he and his parents had put a memorial in the garden for [y/n] [l/n]. When the flowers die, he brings new ones. The 'grave' is adorned with trinkets and gifts he's brought over the years. They had been battered and sunbleached from sitting out in the garden day and night. A Batman action figure, he brought to them when he was seven, has turned completely gray and tattered. He joins his soulmate there when life gets tough and he needs them.

He'd spent so long searching for them on the internet, wanting to know anything about them. How they died, where they were born, their birthday, literally anything. With no luck and no closure, all he could do was imagine the perfect person in his mind's eye to fill the void in his heart. His soulmate would have been perfect after all. But he knew nothing he could think of would ever amount to the real thing, so even his daydreams that once comforted him in his grief turned into hunting reminders that they were gone.

When his mother died he spent most of his time crying over the memorial he built right next to his soulmates in the garden. It was unfair he didn't have either of them to soothe his torment.

He accepted a long time ago that he would be alone in his misery until the day he joined them.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Which brings us to today. He had spent the last three years fighting for his life alongside Scott and the pack for peace in Beacon Hills and today was no easy venture either. Stiles hadn't celebrated his birthday since he turned five, it had become the first day he was doomed to never meet his soulmate, them having died before he was born. He had not known how long they had been gone, but his birthday had become the day dedicated to his loss.

As he drove home that chilly October evening, fresh flowers on the passenger seat he nearly cried out in frustration when his phone had gone off. He could do this tonight. The monster of the week couldn't give him the evening? It was the one day a year he let his loneliness and sorrow fill him and it already was.

He had done nothing but think about it all day, he was drowning in that feeling he felt that first day he mourned. Part of him felt pathetic for still feeling this way over someone he'd never met, but it was deeper than that. He pulls his shit together all year, tucking the never fading ache away for this one day.

"Scoot," He mused, trying to keep things in a light mood. Phone tight in his hand. "Talk to me."

"They are making a move. Derek called and said he tracked them through the preserve."

"Do they have it?" His voice bellowed in nervousness.

"We don't know, but why else would they be moving so quickly and attacking on-site." Stiles could hear the panic in Scott's voice. "Mr. Argent is gathering his people and meeting us out on the preserve."

"Shit," Stiles let panic sink in for only a moment before squirming in his seat and making a U-turn at a red light. "Alright, where are you at? How long do you think we have?"

"I'm almost to the outlook. Thats where Derek said the sent trail was leading towards. We're gonna try to scout out from up there."

Stiles sighed looking over at the flowers with a silent apology.

"Stiles I don't think we have long. Maybe an hour if we can't stop them in time."

"I'll be damned if we let another demon run loose and break havoc in Beacon Hills, man. We'll pull this off. And besides, if Deaton is right about this thing, we have that scroll to help us ring it in."

"Yeah, I gotta go. Be careful, dude." And the line went dead.

Stiles's stomach clenched at the thought of another Nogitsune-type monster being summoned. After all the pain he suffered at the hands of the last spirit he encountered, the blood on his hands, he couldn't bear the thought of it happening all over again. But that's what happens when a batshit coven of Wiccans come rolling into town, promising peace and allyship when really they're after an ancient vessel housing pure evil within.

He couldn't fathom how they thought releasing the evil spirit from its prison would work out in their favor! The spirit, according to his and Lidyia's research, had originally been captured by Wiccans in the first place. So you stroll along a century later and release it and what? It says it's thanks for its freedom and grants you powers beyond your own capabilities? None of that tracts in Stiles's mind, but at the same time, he's not a Wiccan who's driven desperately mad in pursuit of all power.

As he puts the jeep in park, he clobbers out and groans at the track up the mountain to the lookout. He just hopes nobody dies before he gets there to keep an eye out for everyone. Yanking the metal baseball bat from the backseat he started up the hill.

The hike up is easier than he imagined, being more fit now than he was before getting deeply involved with werewolves and other supernatural creatures. Constantly running and fighting for your life does that to you, I guess.

He's still out of breath when the lookout comes into view. He was surprised to see not only the pack and hunters but the Wiccans as well. The hunter's guns are loaded, racked, and trained on six seemingly normal women. The wolves armed themselves with claws and fangs, snarling and growling low at the threat. The Wiccans were backed up against the cliff, five of them guarding one who cradled a stone cylinder under her chin, eyes closed and muttering something Stiles couldn't hear.

Stiles eased up behind his allies as Mr. Argent and Scott tried to reason with who Stiles assumed was their leader. The woman stood out as the youngest of them, but something about her made the hair and Stiles's neck stand at attention. Her eyes were old and wise. Stiles remembered in this research coming across forbidden practices among Wiccans across the world; involving dark energy or magic or whatever, and using it to suck youth out of people's souls, aging their victims while they get younger. The intent and darkness in that woman's eyes told Stile all he needed to know about what they were really up against.

"I don't understand," Scott cried cutting Mr Argent off. "What is it you're after? Chaos, mayhem, murder? What do you get from all those people down there dying when you realize that thing?" He motioned behind the women at the lights and life of Beacon Hills.

"You would ever understand, dog." She hissed like a cat. Stiles cringed keeping his judgment to himself. "The Mortamaga is a friend to our kind, it will do our bidding and we will avenge our people. Spiritus Mortis is our saving grace."

Stiles took his place just behind Scott's right shoulder looking at the women like she just spouted that the night sky was yellow. Her and the other Wiccan's gazes darkened as their partner began muttering louder, stiles realized she was chanting some language he didn't understand. The engraving on the stone cylinder began to glow and he could feel the mentions rising.

"Are you hearing yourself?" Stiles heard his voice call, his mouth moving before his brain could tell him to shut up. "You wanna summon something that literally translates to 'spirit of death'? You're an idiot if you think that's gonna be your friend at all! It's death for everyone."

"The Mortamaga was one of us until it was slaughtered among our ancestors at the hands of our enemies. Its power was point and strong, enough to cast a grand curse even in its dying moments to return and avenge our people. It was trapped away and taken from us! We have finally found it, and we will have our revenge."

The wiccan cackled a cry that reminded Stiles of the green hag in the Wizard of Oz. Before Stiles could react the wolves began a petrified howl as a seal broke loose on the vessel and it began to crack open. There was no stopping this.

Caios was coming again.

"Gah-!" Stiles shriveled in on himself, dropping the bat and holding his wrist tight to his chest. Burning on the flesh of his hand spread up his arm and across his chest.

"What are you doing to him? Stop!" The true alpha warned with a howl.

His vision grew hazy as the burning spread to his whole body. Inside and out, he felt the nauseating heat of it, from the tip of his longest strand of hair to the very center of his soul. His murky vision only allowed minimal sight, the pain sweeping across his mind as it ate at him.

The hunters and pack took cautious steps back, watching the vessel break open, Scott never leaving his side.

The Wiccan watched him, a knowing grin on her face, "That isn't us."

A thick fog poured from the vessel onto the ground, hypnotizing Stiles's limited gaze. Once it was all out and on the ground it began to circle in on itself, wind picking up and chasing it around and around. The Wiccans began cheering at accomplishing their mission. They stood in a circle around the fog as it climbed on top of itself and danced to life, just past its dense surface a solid form started to shape.

Stiles vaguely heard Scott calling for his attention just beside him but his mind was elsewhere.

He watched the form grow and dance in disturbing movements as it took a humanoid form, bones cracking and snapping into place.

Stiles wasn't scared though, he felt it calling to him, in his mind as though they were one. It hushed his aching body, allowing the pain to begin to melt away. He felt the guilt and fear in it. He felt it call his name, asking him where to find him as if it did not know he was right there. The fog took solid form and his vision came back to him, looking at the back of a person who felt so familiar to him.

"Stiles," Scott tried to get his attention, tried to pull him back and away from the danger. "Stiles!"

But Stiles did not feel that he was in danger, he felt calm. The burning had subsided into a serene warmth. The kind he felt when he hugged his father closely after having almost lost him. The kind of warmth he felt when his mother had sung him to sleep as a child. The kind of warmth that made him smile.

"Mortamaga," The lead woman smiled pleasantly, on her knees with her hands outstretched, palms up. "You will avenge are people, will you not?" She seemed just as hypnotized by it as Stiles felt a moment ago, but the feeling has faded from him now.

He took a moment to look down at his wrist, this mark had returned to life, bold and strong as he had wished it would be all this life.

He watched the figure turn its head to look the women over, features constricted in visible confusion.

"[y/n]." He heard his voice say.

The figure turned to him, Scott giving it a warning growl. Soft, almost frightened eyes met with his.

"Mieczysław," It's voice questioned softly. All he could do was nod dumbly. The soulmark on his wrist is on full display to the enchanting Spirit. It smiled.

It was them, it was his soulmate. And gosh were they something. Stiles's daydreams and fantasies were nothing compared to them. They stood so still, as if trained to not make any movement they didn't absolutely need to, the complete opposite of him as he sat there fidgeting. Calm and surreal, pose and elegant. And in stiles private words, never to be said out loud, 'A total walking wet dream.'

"What?" The Wiccan's face dropped almost comically.

The spirit eyed the crowd of witnesses to its miraculous restriction. She frowned at the fear in their eyes.

"You are a friend of my people, will you not help us?"

The spirit turned its head to the woman curiously, then turned fully. Its frown deepened as its eyes glowed, looking deep into the woman's soul.

"I am not." The spirit reached out and grasped the woman by the throat dragging her to her feet, the higher until she was hanging in the air. "I will not help you."

"You are the Mortamaga, you are supposed to be at our will, help us!" A Wiccan behind them called angrily. Everyone came to the same thought, 'What the fuck is happening?'

"Your stories are lost in translation, I see. There are lives in you that should not be there, lives you stole from people too young to have even lived at all." The spirit seethed. "I am no friend of the dirty wiccan, I hunt you for sport."

"No!" Another Wiccan called. She made a move to charge the spirit but a fog rose from the ground and trapped her and the others in place.

"I did not sleep these long years to be summoned back to life by vicious vermin. You are not who I came all this way for." The spirit thought for a moment, briefing a sorrowful gaze at Stiles as he stumbled to his feet, filly letting Scott pull him away. "Shall I leave you to the wolves?"

"You were one of us." The head Wiccan choked out, feet kicking to find the ground.

"I am Wiccan. It is in my blood. But forbidden is forbidden." It used to throw her at the feet of Chris Argent. "And a monster is to be hunted."

Stiles was in absolute shock. Completely unaware of what to say or do.

"The power you used," The Wiccan accused while being grabbed and bound. "The curse you laid on yourself, if forbidden, death curses are forbidden."

"My soulmate would not be born for another hundred or so years. I bound that seal to only break when we were of the same age, to the day." The spirit, if you could still call them that, inched closer with a nasty glare. "I did not use the curse to trap young and innocent souls in mine to keep me young. I remember your ugly face Alba Hings."

"It's forbidden though! You can not kill me if you are not punished for the same crimes!"

[y/n] sighed sadly raising her wrists to be bound as hers were. None of the hunters made a move to her though, too afraid, or out of respect, Stiles didn't know. As long as his soulmate wasn't being taken away.

They dropped their arms with a surprised look adorning their features before stepping toward Stiles with eyes still trained on the hunters.

"You will burn them?" They asked.

"We don't really burn witches at the stake anymore." A hunter Stiles didn't know the name of chuckled awkwardly.

"No," [Y/n] sighed at his stupidity. "A Wiccan's powers are bound to them even after death, you need to burn their bodies at least. Any curses or lingering influence will die with them."

As if they had no clue, the hunters looked amongst themselves and shrugged at the information. Working collectively to gather up the hags and drag them away to lord knows where.

[y/n] stared blankly before turning to Stiles with a questioning gaze. "Are all your friends this dim?"

Stiles could only laugh.

They looked shy as he did, smiling softly as his laughter died down.

"I'm sorry for the wait." They bowed their head shamefully. "I heard when you called out to me over the years, I tried to call back but you know, I was dead."

"Worth the wait, [y/n]."

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I'm sleepy, and going to bed now. I'll maybe do a part two cause I had more ideas about them actually meeting and shoots.

•Kermitts Masterlist•

[bigskydreaming]

My TW fandom experience:

*Everyone watches the exact same episode where Scott McCall says what if we dont kill people tho and after much deliberation, its agreed lets not kill people this episode and this is the only reason most former villains and fan favorites stick around and become the pack's new besties instead of being written out of the show due to the pack's initially proposed solution of Ready Set Murder*

Most of fandom: Well that was terrible. He's literally the worst. They should've just killed the villains, problem solved, why is he so dumb. Inquiring minds want to know.

Also most of fandom:

*writes fics where nobody cares what Scott says or thinks because they all agree, he's literally the worst, so dumb, why is he even here*

*fics remain mysteriously populated by all the characters everyone says the mains should absolutely have murdered to fix all their problems and the only reason they didnt in canon is Scott insidiously mind-controlled his friends into non-homicidal compliance*

Scott fans: .....hang on. I'm confused.

Most of fandom: What's confusing dumbass, literally why would they kill the villains that are hot and white and shippable instead of just making friends with them so that sometimes they can get married and have kids? Its called letting people change and grow, even mass murderers deserve redemption arcs. Also I dont know if you know this but murder is bad, plz read more books. LOL why are Scott fans like this.

Scott fans: Wait. But didn't all the characters want to murder that villain you made the central character and one half of the hero pair of 70% of the fics written last season? So who said what if we dont kill people tho and got everyone to change their votes from Ready Set Murder to Redemption Arc Marriage and then maybe babies?

Most of fandom: Umm, Stiles? Obviously. LMAO. Do you even watch the show?

Scott fans: Okay, but Stiles was the one who pitched Ready Set Murder. It was his plan. So who was like what if we dont kill people to Stiles, so that then he said wait guys lets not kill people?

Most of fandom: Oh that was Peter. They have a special bond. He gets him.

Scott fans: Right. So did Peter sell Stiles on the whole lets not kill people thing before he killed his niece and then like ten other people? Or was it after that.

Most of fandom: Before. No! Wait. After! Yeah, it was after that.

Scott fans: Got it. So who said what if we dont kill people to Peter to get him to agree lets not kill people which he definitely did since he definitely did not continue to kill people all the way to the end of the show?

Most of fandom: .....Deucali....

Scott fans: *squint one eye*

Most of fandom: .....heo....?

Scott fans: *squint both eyes*

Most of fandom: Derek! Right, yeah. Derek, it was definitely Derek.

Scott fans: Oh okay. Derek said lets not kill people to Peter. I'm assuming after he killed Peter, since I mean, it wouldn't make much sense for him to be all hey what if we dont kill people to Peter and then literally kill Peter haha. We can at least agree on that much, right?

Most of fandom: I don't know that we can, actually.

Scott fans: Well, let's just say that it was after he killed Peter and thus after Peter came back. Which does make sense, I guess, I mean, at least that was also after he gave his pack the Go Kill Lydia assignment for their werewolf homework....

Most of fandom: Whoa, whoa, hold up. That has nothing to do with any of this. It was a totally different situation because Derek didnt WANT to kill Lydia, he HAD to kill Lydia. She was turning into an evil murder lizard, what was he supposed to do?

Scott fans: She quite literally was not.

Most of fandom: Okay but see he THOUGHT she was, which is basically the same thing.

Scott fans: Is it tho?

Most of fandom: Yes. Look, he was like, 60% sure it was her and that's over half sure so that's a reasonable conclusion to make at that point. Anyone would have made that mistake.

Scott fans: Except for Scott. Because he's so much dumber than everyone else.

Most of fandom: Yes! Exactly.

Scott fans: So when Scott said what if we dont kill people to Derek, and stopped him and his pack from killing Lydia, because murder is bad and Derek even agrees, its not like he WANTED to kill Lydia, he just HAD to kill Lydia because she was probably an evil murder lizard and what else was he gonna do.....Scott only said and did that because he was too dumb to come to the conclusion everyone smarter than him would reasonably come to....which was that Lydia had to die, even though murder is bad and she was maybe potentially not even technically an evil murder lizard?

Most of fandom: Right. So it doesnt count.

Scott fans: But it was good that he stopped them from killing Lydia though, right? Cuz everyone likes Lydia, and also, she wasnt actually the evil murder lizard, that was Jackson, and also, they turned out to not actually need to kill Jackson to stop him from being the evil murder lizard?

Most of fandom: ....yes but no. Like yes to all of that, but he was still wrong, is the point. So no.

Scott fans: So -

Most of fandom: Look I dont think you're getting it?! OMG, okay. I don't know if I can dumb it down any further, but lemme give it one last shot. 1) Murder is bad. 2) Even hot white villains deserve redemption arcs. 3) And Scott is terrible. There. Its really that simple lol.

Scott fans: Okay. So everyone deserves redemption. Any character can be better if the other characters give them a chance. Even mass murderers.

Most of fandom: Right.

Scott fans: But Scott is irredeemable. There's nothing that can make him any better so other characters shouldn't even bother giving him a chance. Because he's terrible.

Most of fandom: Also correct.

Scott fans: Because he's always saying murder is bad and what if we dont kill people tho.

Most of fandom: YES. Finally. Now you're getting it. Honestly, what was so hard about that.

[distractedducky]

So I was thinking about it… why sterek

I’ve shipped a lot in my time. From the classics like spirk and destiel, to the straight vampire diaries nonsense, from murder husbands to buddy to name a very small few. They all hold weird little places in my heart and mind but they fade and as I flow in and out of fandoms I move on to the next hyperfixation. But sterek just keeps sticking around.

It’s an old ship for me. If you go on my ao3 all the way back to 2013 you’ll see my first ever book mark was a sterek fic. That fic is still a comfort fic for me today and is something I read when my anxiety is uncontrollable.

It was something I read late in 2022 when the reality of the pandemic and the last few years hit me hard and got me back into Teen Wolf so hard it actually pushed me out of the supernatural hole the start of the pandemic put me in.

I’ve always been a shipper and I have my ride or dies, my OTPs and Ot3s, and so on and so forth, but fandom has always been weird for me. I started young and witnessed the birth in Tumblr and ao3, as a tween my taste can only be described as pure trash* Affectionate * but as I got older, like most things in life, my taste changed. And though I still love me some hot garbage, I engage with it differently than that little 12-year-old who thought werewolves and vampires were cool no further explanation necessary.

Now I’m an academic, a librarian, who actually studied critical lit analysis, book studies, and religion. Who spent years learning how to dissect prose and poetry to look beyond text in an professional setting. And though I don’t regret it and it has led to some fun changes in the way I engage with fiction it also kinda ruined the fun engagement I had with things back in the day when baby me bookmarked that first fic.

I need more from my characters now, more from my fandoms and it has led me away from and into the arms of content that I never saw coming. (Looking at you Danny phantom phandom) I needed depth or the potential for depth that some shows just didn’t lend themselves to cleanly enough to satisfy me and yet… sterek persisted.

One of my problems is I didn’t really engage with the fandom when the show was airing and only watched a few season sporadically until recently, so I wasn’t there when things were forming organically. It has left me out of step with the primary directions fan content creators have taken with the ship and the directions they took, though fun and interesting, aren’t really my usual thing.

I hate the infantilization of stiles and other teen wolf characters like Isaac. I generally hate infantilization of adults, hyper feminization of certain types of characters and so on and so forth and it has to do with my own gender stuff, but I usually avoid it in fanfiction. I am also not a huge fan of modern werewolf romance erotica. I have a lot of opinions on real supernatural mythology and legends and I don’t like the anthropomorphism that shows up a lot in werewolf stories. Not that I haven’t read some amazing takes on werewolf lore, especially in the Teen Wolf fandom but I’m speaking generally. I’m also not a fan of pack mom stiles (again my own gender stuff) and though I think Scott’s inconsistent character and writing throughout the show lens him to be whatever your fic needs to be (best friend, hype man, wingman, idiot, genius, villain, so on and so forth) I don’t like a lot of the 'Scott sucks just because' fics. I don’t like the hate in the fandom around that. I also don’t like the hypermasculine depictions of Derek in a lot of fics and on and on. I have read a lot of TW and sterek and by all accounts, it should be a fandom I wouldn't personally engage with this much. Yet for all that, I have found there is an exception to every trope I hate, every hard line i draw for myself, because the fic was just so good. For every dozen or so fics that seem to tell me that this isn’t the fandom for me, there is that one amazing thing that says “No! This is exactly where you wanna be”.

Like I said, I need more from my fandoms now a days and most of what that boils down to is plausible deniability. I need enough gaps in the narrative to fill them in myself, but with enough connective pieces that everything can make sense when put together. The fatal flaw of telling without showing, which allows people to extrapolate out what they want from certain things -all the subtext with none of the text - is exactly where my degree comes in handy.

And sterek well… I think what it is for me as a shipper is the inconsistencies. That is kind of why I still ship it so far and for so long. It's the fact of why was Stiles in Derek's dream at the end of 3b? We can talk about all the things with him being his anchor and the grasping at straws that we as shippers all love to do but the narrative fact is they did not spend that much time on screen together or even saying they were doing things off-screen together. That leads us to a lot of whys. Why were they together at the beginning of season two talking about the alpha pack? Why were they in certain situations in season four that ld them to work so well? What happens in all of this dead time? What happens in season six? We see stiles in episode one be like "Oh my God Derek is a mass murderer wanted by the FBI" and at the end of the season, they've apparently driven and or flown back to California together, apparently spent some time together. They're not on the run from the FBI so that got cleared somehow, stiles isn't limping so his foot healed. There's so much dead time like that throughout the show so when scenes happen like the hand on Derek's shoulder after the death of Boyd you're left thinking that's kind of off, we haven't seen any interactions with them that would show that they have that kind of deep solemn relationship where comforting him would make sense.

The show notoriously has a terrible timeline, but all that does is fuel the fact that we don't know how much time any of these characters are really spending off-screen together. We can only assume that it happened in this weird dead time. This is why somehow Derek's view of Stiles in his head is like a calm stable dependable figure who can help him talk through an issue. This is why they always gravitate towards each other in fights. This is why they work so well together in a crisis. Like we have to assume that happened before which is stupid and I know it's so much reaching, but in my little brain, it's the only way that makes all of this random shit fit together- so I gotta ship it. Obviously, the real-world explanation is inconsistent writing plus putting space between them once the writer stopped wanting people to ship it, but because you get all of these disjointed scenes where they're too intense for what we've been previously seeing there is some type of disconnect here -what is that? and if you're looking at the show, not as a work of fiction, but as a narrative, what else are we gonna do then assume that they have spent way more time emotionally connecting than we have seen on the screen.

And for me that’s everything I want in a ship, that ability to play and extrapolate random events and ask, okay now how would these all fit! And that’s what spawns great ideas and stories and art and why I ship it, dispute the fact that it really shouldn't work for me personally.

I think it’s why a lot of people still stop sterek despite the fact that the attitude towards it and the show has shifted a lot and in many different ways in the last decade.

Sorry for the rant, I’ve been thinking about this for days and had to get it out there. I hope I didn’t offend anyone. I truly love the Teen Wolf fandom and everything it’s done and everything it created and I’m so happy to be able to engage with it.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Heya guys! ya'll are awesome by the way :) I'm pretty sure this hasn't been asked yet, but could you find some Sterek fics where either Stiles or Derek wear glasses and the other finds it really attractive, please? :D

Sure!

A Bite by FairyNiamh

(1/1 I 408 I Teen)

It was only a cake, how bad could a bite be?

Eye of the Beholder by TricksterShi

(1/1 I 3,941 I Teen)

"When was the last time you had an eye exam?"

A simple question leads to some lingering body issues Stiles has to wrestle with but, in the end, Derek proves Stiles has nothing to worry about when it comes to what he looks like through Derek's eyes.

First Date (Queer Your Coffee, Part Two) by alisvolatpropiis

(1/1 I 4,791 I Explicit)

“Holy fuck,” Derek whispers when finally sees Stiles’ cock. It’s gorgeous, long and thick with a big head, which is pierced, the tip shiny and wet. He should have expected it really, the piercing, a prince albert he thinks it’s called, not sure because he’s never seen one, never knew how fucking hot it could be. There are two balls just like the ones in Stiles’ tongue, one nestled in his pretty little slit, the other tucked under the crown of his head, joined by a slightly curved bar under the skin. Derek swallows hard and his mouth fills with hot saliva, one hand going to his own cock, shoving his boxer briefs down his thighs in a rush. He wants to stroke himself, but the thought of that piercing on his tongue, against his throat, fuck, in his ass, has him dangerously close to coming untouched, so he grips the base hard instead, staving it off.

Stiles purrs. “See something you like, big guy?”

Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MereLoup

(4/4 I 14,429 I General)

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.”

“Oh thank god!”

“Stiles?”

“I, uh, I need some advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?”

Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.”

“Stiles...what are you doing right now?”

***

Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work.

Partly because their visit was a complete surprise.

But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend.

Or even know who Derek was.

But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

no aphrodisiac like loneliness by thepsychicclam

(1/1 I 19,705 I Explicit)

Stiles is 27 now, with a master’s degree and a career and a house and a serious boyfriend and a life in San Francisco that doesn't include Derek. But then Stiles unexpectedly shows back up in Beacon Hills, and Derek would recognize that scent anywhere.

Falling down like dominoes by allofspace

(7/7 I 21,666 I Teen)

Stiles has just started a new job, uprooting his life (new city, new apartment) to finally put his degree to good use. Aside from the hot brooding guy who refuses to smile at him, and his creepy cubicle-mate, the people are great, especially his new BFF Allison. Scott may or may not be taking their separation horribly.

10 Things I Hate (love) About You by catsteww

(1/1 I 31,153 I Teen)

When Kate Argent hires Stiles to date Derek and get paid for it, Stiles obviously agrees and sets out to win his heart. Except Stiles wasn't expecting Derek to actually have layers underneath his tough exterior, and he certainly wasn't expecting to develop pesky little feelings for him. And everything gets a little messed up along the way.

Lightly based on the movie.

If You Wanna Be My Roomie (Lover) by orphan_account

(23/23 I 65,056 I Explicit)

Realistically, Stiles knew that the local University's popularity and commonality meant that many members of his graduating high school class would be starting the Fall 2016 semester alongside him, but he never expected his longtime crush to be one of them. Even more so, he never expected said crush to be assigned as his roommate...oh boy.

I Wish He Was Mine, He's Really Divine by yodasyoyo 

(24/24 I 87,706 I Teen)

Derek has been pining for Stiles Stilinski for years. He never thought he'd actually be in with a chance, but all that's about to change.

OR: Very slow build Sterek, with nerd!Derek, sort of badboy!Stiles, plenty of pining and a Kira/Derek friendship for the ages.

[sterekchub]

Okay I’m back for more frat boy Derek. Tell me about how he dresses and how everyone else sees him as he goes from hot jerk jock to absolute blob fucktoy.

Pledge Derek freshman year struts in confident - (for sure how I see Derek if he fire never happened). Star play on the town's basketball team, hot as hell, and even worse, charming and gets away with skipping classes or missing assignments. He starts as the hot shot from the small town. Used to eating homecooked, balanced meals. Depending on on the werewolf metabolism that can keep him chugging beers and never get drunk. He has the confidence of someone who never needs to practice and can still show up and win the games. Except the tiny little town of Beacon Hills is nothing compared to a big University. And suddenly Derek loses himself immediately to indulgence. Derek spends too many nights enjoying the unlimited campus meals and all the takeout from the dozens of different cuisines that are an app away from showing up at the door of their frat. There's no balance and moderation. Its greasy takeout food and subpar cafeteria food until Derek is ready to pop. Chugs a keg's worth of beer at frat parties, enough that even Derek starts to feel drunk, and that buzz and confidence of people cheering his name as they press another can into his hand, or pour another bottle down the funnel, means Derek drinks until his gut is round and swollen. (And that isn't counting the entire side tangent of Stiles manipulating and fattening him in the background). Most nights, Derek stumbles to bed with a sloshing gut and several pounds worth of calories sitting in his belly. Sleeps in later than me meant to, misses classes and eventually starts missing his sports practices and gets kicked from the team. It doesn't help that for a frat who prides themselves on their image, has a brother who is stretching out their T-shirts. Love handles peeking out the sides, ass turning sweatpants into sheer tights, belly starting to hang over the waistband...and Derek seemingly oblivious, going around scratching his stretchmarks, showing off even more of his widening waistline. Plus his gaseous explosions after a far too indulgent few hours spent in the campus cafeteria. So the frat votes at the end of the year to kick him from their group.....until Stiles persuades them that Derek could still be useful. As entertainment. And the idea of the frat pig is created. (Because what would a party be without Derek in the middle, food being forced down his throat until his gut is obscenely stretched to the size of a beanbag, and Derek is panting and belching and horny and willing to keep eating more) Freshman year Derek who fucks his way through the frat because his sexual appetite is only rivaled by his appetite. A contrast to Derek in future years. First he's too full and lazy, he finished off more beer than he can remember and at least two pizzas. His only job is to sprawl on the bed and demand someone else get him off. And eventually, when his dick is progressively more and more buried under a flabby belly and fat pad, Derek becomes full time demanding, greedy power bottom, belching out commands.

[wolfspurr]

Heatwave (1983 words) by Wolfspurr Chapters: 1/3 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Hot Weather, Making Out Summary: A heatwave hits Beacon Hills and the whole town decides to start coupling up. Stiles isn't sure if it's the best thing that's ever happened to him or the worst. Excerpt:

It has to be supernatural.

The blanket of heat that’s settled over Beacon Hills is an oppressive, sticky kind of hell so unpleasant that it can’t possibly be a natural phenomenon. It can’t. If it’s not supernatural, then it can’t be defeated, and if it can’t be defeated Stiles is going to have to live through it.

It has to be supernatural.

Summer is supposed to be over, and even at its peak the temperatures hadn’t spiked this high. This is Beacon Hills; it isn’t supposed to be like this. What’s worse, school is back in session, so Stiles can’t spend his days lounging in Lydia’s pool with the rest of the pack in between supernatural threats. There’s homework to do and classes to attend, and for some godforsaken reason Beacon Hills High hasn’t seen fit to upgrade its air conditioning system at any point within the last two decades.

Which is to say it’s hot.

Unbearably hot.

The air is so thick he can practically cut it. It’s stifling. Suffocating. No matter how many cool showers he takes, a couple of minutes later there’s a tacky sheen of sweat prickling uncomfortably over his body again, an unattractive flush rising on his skin as blood rushes to the surface in the vain hope of being cooled down. All he can do is fan himself ineffectually with whatever’s closest to hand and pray to whatever higher being might be up there for it to end.

It’s not just the heat, it’s the humidity. It might actually be driving him insane, and Stiles is pretty sure he isn’t the only one.

It makes no sense. In this climate touching anyone else should be the last thing on anyone’s mind, but things in Beacon Hills seem to have been heating up in more ways than one. It’s not enough that the town is hotter than Satan’s balls, the heat seems to be messing with people’s minds as well, burning away their rationality and overheating their senses until they reach boiling point and hidden feelings, secret urges start to bubble over. Everyone is pairing up, finding someone to press themselves up against in discrete corners, empty rooms, the middle of the damn hallways.

Everyone except for Stiles.

Scott and Allison are so hot for each other they seem to have taken up permanent residence in the supply closet during school hours. Yesterday he walked in on Erica doing unspeakable things to Boyd in the depths of the library stacks, and he’s pretty sure he even saw Harris sneaking into an abandoned classroom with the new school secretary at lunch.

It can’t be normal.

And this is why Stiles is sprawled in front of his desk, cursing his laptop for the heat it’s churning out into the sauna he now calls a bedroom as he throws himself into research. Magma creatures. Volcano spirits. Lusty heat demons. Something has to be causing this misery. Keep Reading

[christinesficrecs]

Hell beautiful person! I’m looking for Sterek Fics set in High School where Stiles and Derek are the same age! Always a happy sterek ending, all fluff, angst is okay to as long as they are together at the end. No cheating please! Thank you so much!

High School fics are so fun!! 😍

The Lawn Ranger by Snowjob | 47.8K | Mature

In which Derek is an adolescent werewolf with a penchant for chocolate bunnies, and instead of the dream summer of lazing around the house playing video games and nibbling on his hoarded supply of easter candy his mother makes him get a job.

In which Stiles is a showoff jock with a broken arm and an embarrassing crush who can no longer push the lawn mower around the yard.

When You’re Close I Feel the Sparks by  Leslie_Knope | 39.6K

The guy is hot as hell, sure—leather jacket and glasses, Jesus, be still Stiles’ poor, bisexual, beating heart—but more importantly, it must really suck being new on the first day of senior year.

“We’re adopting him,” he decides, tugging Scott and Kira by the elbow in that direction. “Let’s go.”

Strut on a Line, its Discord and Rhyme by xiaq | 61.8K

“Carry me,” Stiles says.

“No.”

“But I’m injured.”

“You have a rash,” Derek says. “On your arm. Your feet work just fine.”

“Please?”

“No. You weigh almost as much as I do. And you ate a pound of chicken at lunch.”

Kingdom By The Sea by kilaem | 4K

Lydia grabs his arm and pulls him down in the seat next to her. “When the hell did you find time to bag a guy like Hale?”

“We’re friends,” Stiles feels his face heat up, and then the team are running out and Derek sees him and smiles. His blush gets worse.

“Oh really?”

“Our moms were friends, okay? We’ve been in diapers together.”

“I thought you two hated each other.”

What Good Are Rules (If You Can’t Break Them) by wishingonalightningbolt | 9.5K | Explicit

In which Derek and Stiles engage in no-strings-attached sex. It works out about as well as you might imagine.

Option C) Some Bad Guys are Werewolves, but Not All Werewolves are Bad Guys by  calrissian18 | 9K

Derek Hale—the Incredible Meat that Thinks—needs a math tutor. Stiles Stilinski needs something that will look better on his college applications than ‘passable D&D Dungeon Master.’

It’s a match made in heaven. Er, right?

Let Me Be Yours by EvanesDust, isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) | 30.3K

What if Stiles did end up believing one day and he got a soulmark and it... wasn’t Derek’s? What if it was a completely different design? Derek would hate the other person on principle because they would’ve gotten what he wanted.

Hadn’t he earned Stiles? He’d been there for him for years, and they were both such good friends, and had stuck by one another regardless of their differences. He was sitting in a fucking movie theatre to watch a movie he wasn’t at all interested in instead of playing ultimate frisbee with Boyd and some other friends, for fuck’s sake. He loved ultimate frisbee! Much more than superhero movies!

But not more than Stiles.

He couldn’t possibly love anything more than Stiles.

i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me) by bleepobleep | 10.5K

Derek gets in an accident and loses a few years of his memory; suddenly everything is different— he’s not a freshman loser anymore, but a popular senior, captain of the basketball team, a shoo-in for prom king, too, and he should have everything he’s ever wanted— except he doesn’t seem to be friends with Stiles anymore.

John Hughes Did Not Direct My Life by nascentgalaxies | 48.6K | Explicit

Stiles and Derek are childhood friends who drifted apart. When Stiles joins the lacrosse team against his will, the universe (with a little help from Laura and Lydia) chooses to push them back together.

Chocolate & Pomegranates by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 9.6K

Derek has been an Omega for what feels like centuries. He is constantly hounded by Alphas and Betas who can't control their hormones. He's thankful for Laura defending his honor, but there is one person he's always dreamed of giving himself to.

Too bad Derek is certain Stiles doesn't know he exists.

It’s Always Been You, Dumbass by stilinskisparkles | 11K

“Alright, cool, we should go,” Stiles says breezily, dusting off his hands as he stands.

“We should?”

“Yeah!”

“But… Do you even care about photography?”

“Not as much as I should,” Stiles plants both his hands on the table, bracketing Derek in, “You’ll have to correct my miscreant ways.”

This Might Be Irony by thepsychicclam | 38.3K | Mature

Stiles and Derek have been close friends since the Hale siblings moved in next door after their parents’ death. But Derek’s in the popular group, he’s a star baseball player, and he dates popular Pep Squad captain Jennifer Blake. Stiles doesn’t have any of that, just his skateboard and a hopeless crush on Derek (oh yeah, and his Vote Lydia Martin Prom Queen button). As prom and the baseball state championship grow closer, Stiles and Derek start rekindling their friendship.

And it all begins with two white boards.

A Cunning Plan by yodasyoyo | 32.7K

Stiles has a plan to get Lydia Martin to notice him. Derek is not impressed.

But Then What… by Stoney | 24.3K | Explicit

Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He’s someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn’t like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn’t attracted to him.

Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

[heliads]

hi

can i request a lydia martin x female reader? y/n is new in town and ends up getting along with the pack. she's a lot like lydia, genius smart, loves fashion, really girly, the major difference is that she's quiet and kinda shy, so everyone expects the two of them to become friends, but lydia really dislikes her and feels like she's being replaced by her. enemies to lovers, you know?

hope you like it and feel comfortable writing <3

reader: excuse me, i am smart, i am gay, i have the ability to make you jealous, i'm ~new in town~

masterlist

You are finding it hard to believe in the power of a fresh start. Everyone phrased it that way when it was first announced that you would be completely wrecking your old life to move to a town in the middle of Nowheresville, California, but you saw through it from the start. This would not be a wonderful chance to reinvent yourself, nor a blessed opportunity for trying again. This would be awful, and nothing about Beacon Hills could change that.

You already did your time of starting from scratch in a classroom you didn’t recognize back home. Home is not Beacon Hills, home is where you were born, where people knew you from kindergarten through your teenage years. Beacon Hills only has claim to you for the few years you have left in high school, and after that, you’re moving back to your hometown. So you’ve promised yourself, at least.

However, Beacon Hills doesn’t like it when its pawns and pieces get minds of their own. The only way people leave this town is through death, either theirs or that of someone they love. You don’t know that now, but you’ll learn it soon enough. It’s a lesson of inevitability for anyone daring enough to live in a supernatural hot spot even half the strength of this godforsaken town.

Death has not darkened your doorstep, however, and you go to your first day of school with only the apprehension of wondering if you’ll find enough friends to make this town worth your while. The students seem pretty friendly when they’re not judging you behind three ring binders or over locker doors, but what else is new? Beacon Hills High School is still a high school, and that means it can only be so great when you’re not one of its usual crew.

It’s a good thing, then, that you managed to stumble upon people who would embrace you with open arms. You met Scott McCall first when both of you were paired together for a chemistry lab, then Stiles second in a math class. After that, it was almost inevitable that you would join the rest of their group, their pack. If you can win over Scott and Stiles, you’re guaranteed to fit right in.

It’s nice being with the McCall crew. They watch each other’s backs, they stand up for themselves, anything you could want in a friend group. It takes them a while to trust you long enough to share exactly why that is, but even afterwards, it only solidifies the bond you have with the rest of them. Their world is strange and utterly confusing, but they’ve managed to navigate it together so far, and now that together includes you as well.

It would be perfect were it not for the presence of one person in that group. No one can understand why it is that you and Lydia Martin cannot get along, but the facts remain just as solid as always. Every time you and Lydia cross paths, you can’t escape without at least a few angry comments exchanged. Terse words are a must, and sarcastic retorts are a necessity. There’s no way kindness can prosper if the two of you have to work together.

It makes no sense. You and Lydia should be the closest here of anybody, with the exception of Scott and Stiles. Both of you are clever, among the smartest in your classes; both of you like being right, especially when it saves the lives of your friends. Malia and the rest have told you about a thousand times over that you guys could talk about so much if you would just talk to each other at all. 

That, however, seems to be far easier to say than to do. Lydia won’t let you get in a word unless she’s got the upper hand, and you’re no better. You’re not talking unless you’re sniping at each other, and that’s hardly talking at all. 

You’re not going to act like it totally ruins your friendship with the rest of the McCall pack, only that it’s frustrating you’ll never be able to win over the full set. You don’t need Lydia Martin to love you, though, she just has to tolerate your presence long enough to save your life if necessary, and she does that just fine. 

Too fine, actually. Scott gets it into his head that you should all split up to stake out potential hunter territory to see if they’re planning something big. Seeing as you’re still new to the whole hunter/supernatural deal, you’ll have to have someone there with you to keep you alive if your cover is blown, and of all the people to watch your back, he chooses Lydia. 

You tried to fight that choice as much as possible. If you have to be stuck in the dark of night with someone for an extended period of time, wouldn’t it be better if it was a person you could actually stand? Anyone else would be just fine by you. Even Theo Raeken, and the guy’s literally tried to kill everyone about half a dozen times. 

Scott disagrees, though, citing this as the perfect chance for you and Lydia to finally mend some bridges instead of burning them. You may think he’s insane, but Scott’s word is law, mostly because he’s the most capable of making reasonable decisions of all of you. 

This may be true, but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. You roll up to the stakeout with expectations on the ground, and when Lydia greets you with an eye roll, the bar descends even lower than expected. You’ll both be sitting in her car and waiting for something to happen, and all you can think is that three hours cannot pass quickly enough. 

Lydia chuckles derisively when you climb into her car. Evidently you’re not as good at concealing your disdain for this evening as you’d like to think. “You might want to work on your poker face, sweetheart. You’re looking a little unhappy.”

“Wonder why that is,” you say, settling into your seat with great reluctance, “it’s not like I’m stuck in a car for hours with someone who hates me. Oh wait, I am.”

Lydia frowns. “I don’t hate you.”

You scoff. “Of course you do. We pick fights every time we talk. You’re even arguing with me now about how much we dislike each other.”

Lydia goes silent for a second, then:  “I don’t want anyone to think I hate them. Unless they deserve it, of course.”

“I haven’t killed you or our friends yet,” you remark, “isn’t that enough for me to not deserve it?”

“It should be,” Lydia replies hesitantly. 

Yet it isn’t, which is what she isn’t saying. You exhale, irritated, and turn your attention back towards the house outside, you know, like you were supposed to be doing all this time. The sun sets and disappears beneath the horizon, and once the stars have bothered to take their place, Lydia speaks again. 

“It is.”

You look at her, confused. “What is?”

Lydia gestures vaguely at you. “What you said earlier. What you’ve done isn’t enough for me to hate you.”

“Then why do you?” You ask slowly. 

Lydia tosses you an affronted look. “I don’t, but you seem so determined to dislike me that you think I do anyway.”

Your hackles are rising again, and you feel yourself rushing to counter what she’d just said. “Only because you never give me a chance to do anything else!”

Lydia groans. “See, this is exactly what I mean. Neither of us can say anything without the other taking it as an insult.”

You pause for a second, and when you speak again, your words are calm and cautious. “What about a truce, then?”

Lydia nods. “I’d like a truce.”

She holds out a hand to you and you shake it with as much solemnity as you can muster. It’s awkward for a while after that, both of you apparently unable to come up with things to say that aren’t direct insults, but slowly the conversation comes and then you’re finding connections between each other you never knew existed in the first place. 

In fact, by the time your phone vibrates with the alarm you’d set to mark the end of the stakeout, you find that you’re almost disappointed to leave the car. Lydia must feel the same way, because she only lets you go with a promise to meet up later to talk. For real, this time. Truce continued without the forced proximity of a stakeout. 

You end up meeting Lydia later that week for coffee, then two days later for a study session, then again for a review of your favorite fashion house’s spring collection. The meetups seem to follow each other in waves, no one ever enough to make you tired of her company. If anything, it only makes you want it more. 

You never really considered what the others must think about the abrupt 180 in your interactions with Lydia until you’re at a pack meeting about a month later and Malia confronts you about it. 

The meeting is over, and just as you’re letting down your guard and pulling on your coat, Malia calls something out to you in typical no-nonsense Malia fashion. 

“So,” she says with unimaginable confidence, “how long have you and Lydia been dating?”

You feel every bit of air leave your lungs, and it takes a few seconds for you to recover enough to sputter out, “What?”

Malia spreads her hands. “How long have you been dating? You guys are together all the time. When did you first get together?”

Across the room, Lydia looks as if she’s just been shot. “We’re not dating, Malia.”

Malia frowns. “What do you mean? Of course you are.”

She looks as if she’d like to spend at least a few minutes more explaining all the ways you’re totally in a relationship with Lydia when Scott gently but firmly guides her by the arm out of the room. He winces over his shoulder as he goes, mouthing something like sorry about that and I’ll talk to her about it, I swear. 

You and Lydia are left staring at each other in complete shock. “Crazy mixup she had there, isn’t it?” Lydia asks faintly. “I mean, who could have even thought…”

You shrug weakly. “I mean, is it really such a leap? We go places together without anyone else all the time. We have inside jokes. You have my contact saved in your phone with a heart next to the name.”

Lydia shakes her head. “That’s just because it’s your favorite color. There was no other shape with it. You know that.”

When you stare at her for a moment longer, her eyes clear. “Oh, I see how that could look to someone who wasn’t there.”

“What if she wasn’t entirely wrong?” You ask as casually as you can, “you know, it does look like we’re dating. We might as well just go ahead and make it official.”

Lydia blinks in surprise, then: “Y/N L/N, are you asking me out?”

It takes everything in you to not turn and run. “Are you saying yes?”

Lydia laughs. “Yes, I think I am.”

You think you might owe Malia a favor after this. Intentional or not, she finally managed to get you and Lydia together. That’s at least worth saving her life a couple of times. 

teen wolf tag list: @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @23victoria