#shiny stile

[rabidaly]

Magpie hybrid stiles and werewolf derek AU. Stiles crashlands in the National park forest where derek is a ranger— he’s injured, shot down from the air, as bird hybrids sell like crazy on the black market. Derek cleans him up and nurtures him back to health and keeps him safe from poachers. Slow build courting au.

(Also touching wings is like, insanely intimate or something. It’s usually only done with mates, close family, and doctors.)

[hedwig221b]

What is your all time favorite sterek fic?

Listen... I cannot go with just one. I'll give you top three and it's nothing new, I fear. The legends, the monarchs, the gems of my sterek library

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This by isthatbloodonhisshirt

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

“Mike,” she argued.

“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

To this day, I remember everything about this fic. I've read it so many times... I love the slow burn, I love Derek’s years-worth stalking, and Stiles' assertiveness and how he's THE alpha mate; I adore the Hales, and Cora, and MERRAK! (I wish I could create an OC that fits so perfectly into the story. I miss his snarky ass...). Anyway, yeah, this is the first fic that comes to mind. Gorgeous

Hung The Moon by BurnItAllClean (nrnyx)

Slowly Stiles got control of himself again. His heart calmed. His breathing evened out. The anger was gone. In its place, a bone-deep weariness settled. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t survive this.

As a huge lover of angst, I devoured this many times. It's perfect. The tension between the boys is so thick, and Derek's adoration of Stiles is so heated and heartbreaking. If I want that achy tugging on my heartstrings, I go to this fic. Absolutely delightful

Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress

“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”

The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”

Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”

Where would I be without siand... it's an abo again, and I mean, this is exactly what I want and need from an abo. Obsessed alpha Derek, beautiful omega Stiles who gets burdened by his nature and the society and his father OH MY GOOODDD. Stiles loving kisses and Derek just enjoying every bit of it, he's so fucking obsessed I'm gonna scream

[oldfangirl81]

"Stiles, your birdcats are back. And they brought you a shiny glowy thing."

"Holy crap, that's a magical amulet."

"Nephew, I think you are stuck with the birdcats."

[miguelschamp]

paper rings

pairing: stiles stilinski x fem!reader

summary: stiles can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you

warnings: none

it was your 11th birthday and you were beyond excited.

your mom had been planning your party for weeks. making sure the theme you wanted was going to be perfect. she invited all of your friends from school, including your two best friends, scott and stiles.

you met scott and stiles in 2nd grade. you tripped and fell onto the wood chips as you were running toward the swing set. as tears blurred your eyes, you heard rapid footsteps coming toward you.

two boys bent down beside you and asked if you were okay before scott ran off to find a teacher. stiles stayed by your side reassuring you that you were okay. and from then on, you guys were friends.

you came down the steps in a pink dress covered in flowers. your hair done and jewelry littering your arms and hands. your mom smiled as you came down the steps.

“scott and stiles are here.” you say running toward the door

“how do you know ?”

“i saw them through my window.” you say swinging the door open. a smile spreads across your features as your friends walk toward the door. you run out towards them as your mom walks out onto the porch.

“happy birthday !” they say as you run toward them. you giggle as the three of you collide in a huge hug.

“thank you.” you smile pulling away. “today’s gonna be so much fun.”

“definitely.” scott says

“happy birthday, sweetie.” melissa says walking up behind the boys

“thank you, ms. melissa.” you beam. you feel your mom place her hand on your shoulder

“why don’t you guys go out back and play until everyone gets here ?” she says

you squeal as you and the boys run around to the backyard.

~

it was darker out now and your party in full swing. you’ve opened presents and had cake. now, everyone was mingling around until they decided to leave.

you had been up since early that morning and you were exhausted. you were running around all day and playing with your friends. ensuring that everyone felt included and was having fun.

now, you sat on a bench that you had in your backyard. everyone was running around in front of you and parents were laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

you look to your left as someone walks toward you. you smile brightly, “hi, stiles.”

“hey.” he says sitting beside you, “are you okay ?”

“yeah.” you nod, “i’m just really tired. i was awake really early this morning.”

“oh, well you had fun today, right ?”

“of course.” you smile before you lay your head on his shoulder. he lays his head on top of yours as you sigh, “today was the best day ever.”

stiles smiles before taking a deep breath, “y/n/n, i have another present for you.”

you sit up, “really ? you didn’t have to. the teddy bear was more than enough.”

when opening your first gift from stiles, you couldn’t believe he had gotten you a bear you had been talking about for months now. your mom had been looking all over for it and couldn’t find it. but, of course, stiles did.

“well, i just wanted to get you something extra for being my best friend.” he says. you smile softly as he digs in his pocket.

he holds his hand out to you. in it was a ring made out of paper. the “diamond” was colored in to imitate the shininess.

“i made it because my dad wouldn’t let me get an actual ring.” he says as you take it from him.

“i love it.” you laugh. it truly was amazing considering an 11 year old boy made it. as you slid it onto your ring finger you held your hand out to him.

“perfect.” he says, “maybe one day i can get you an actual one.”

you smile at him before wrapping your arms around his neck. he quickly hugs you back with a small smile on his face.

•••

you and stiles laid back against his jeep on the outlook of beacon hills. the sun was setting and stiles always made it his mission for the two of you to catch it since you once brought up how you loved them.

it was something that he’s tried doing since the two of you started dating. you guys had been dating for 3 years now. since freshman year of high school and the two of you couldn’t be happier.

your 4 year anniversary was coming up and stiles had something up his sleeve. the ring he gave you for your 11th birthday held significance for the both of you. he remembers you actually wearing and taking care of the ring for a couple of weeks before the “band” ripped.

you were devastated and thought stiles would’ve hated you for ruining his gift. safe to say he wasn’t and was actually shocked at how long the ring lasted.

so, you kept the ring in the box with the other jewelry you were collecting. it now sat in the back of your phone case. it was squished now, but it didn’t matter. it was your favorite.

you watch as he sits up before looking over at you. “yes ?” you say in a sing song voice

“i have a present for you.” he says. you furrow your brows as you sit up.

“okay.” you ask, “wait, our anniversary isn’t for a few months.”

“i know, but i couldn’t keep it from you anymore.” he chuckles as you smile, “y/n, you are the most amazing person i’ve ever met. you mean the world to me and going into senior year, i just want you to know how much i love you. i don’t think scott and i would’ve made it this far with our heads still on our shoulders without you. especially me.”

you laugh as tears behind to gather in your eyes. he lays his hand on your thigh, “you remember the ring i gave you for your birthday.”

you nod as you pull out your phone turning it over. showing off the old gift. “yeah.”

he says nothing as he digs in his pocket pulling out a box. you place your phone down as he holds it out to you. “stiles.”

“open it.” he says as you take it. he watches in anticipation as you open the box. you gasp as you see a shiny ring with a small diamond in the center.

“stiles.” you say softly. you turn to him as he smiles.

“that’s what the paper ring was supposed to look like.” he jokes

he gently takes the box from you. he takes the ring out before grabbing your left hand. he slides the ring onto your ring finger.

“it’s a promise ring.” he says as he rubs your knuckles, “for now until i can replace it.”

you look up at him as a tear falls onto your cheek. he takes no time in wiping it away before cupping your cheek.

“i love you so much.” you say as you sniffle

“i love you more.” he says before leaning in and kissing you gently.

[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.

[ultram0th]

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 19: Action Figure

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19

Derek rubbed his temples in irritation as he wandered through the numerous aisles of the toy store. Aisle after aisle, row after row, brightly colored advertisements and countless useless objects with stupidly high price tags made his headache even worse.

Derek had come to the toy store to find a gift for his boyfriend, Stiles… who he had to point out was a legal adult. Stiles was just a total kid at heart and loved to collect tons of franchise memorabilia, which was something that Derek loved about him. And after falling for the whole “Oh, you don’t have to get me anything” trap last year and having to deal with the fallout, Derek was determined to get Stiles the perfect gift this year.

“Damn it,” Derek growled at the memory of Stiles giving him the silent treatment after his non-gift last year, quickening his pace as he stomped through the aisles in search of something great.

Unfortunately, Derek was having no luck.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he repeated under his breath as he entered an aisle chock full of superhero action figures. 

Derek hurried down the aisle, his eyes scanning the rows of plastic men all over. Each one of them was brightly colored in blaring blues and radiant reds, their over exaggerated muscles looking extremely round and out of the realm of anything humanely possible. Derek’s trademark frown deepened as he searched all over the aisles for the perfect one.

No ordinary superhero would do, especially since Stiles already owned so many. Derek shuddered at the thought of accidentally buying his boyfriend one that he already owned, just to get the side eye and accused of not paying attention.

“Damn it,” the werewolf repeated, annoyed. He frantically began to search the aisle, picking up toy after toy and holding it close to his face studiously. Sure, they were all painted colors and had a variety of “[Insert Random Item]-Man” across the box in bright, blocky letters. However, Derek couldn’t seem to remember which ones Stiles already owned.

In his panic, the werewolf grabbed a white box that contained a blank action figure in it: no facial features or costume painted on at all.

The second his fingers grazed the mysterious box, Derek winced at the odd spark that traveled throughout his body, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. 

“What the hell was that?” he muttered as he brought his hand up to his face to examine his still tingling fingers.

Derek’s eyes widened as he witnessed his fingers taking on a shiny quality. He scrunched up his face in confusion as his fingers gleamed more underneath the bright fluorescents of the toy store. His heart raced in his chest as they stiffened, becoming immovable as his hand apparently turned into plastic.

“Wh-what?!” Derek panicked as the strange transformation traveled down his arms. Weirder was that the werewolf swore that his muscles plumped up, becoming larger and much more exaggerated before they hardened into the same plastic quality as his hands. His signature black leather jacket vacuumed to his torso as his pecs widened and pushed outwards, becoming skintight. It then started to brighten as it went from slate black to royal blue. His jeans underwent the same changes, suctioning to his buffer legs as they brightened into a cartoonish blue that looked more apt on a superhero, not a regular guy wandering around the mall. Derek winced as his bulge seemingly shrank as it was pressed tightly against him. Derek painstakingly move an almost inflexible arm and patted at his groin, groaning as it felt flat and unremarkable like a Ken doll.

The tingling sensation spread up to Derek’s head, and the altered stud couldn’t help but try to reach up with his plastic limbs. His hair had hardened into a large plastic mold, becoming a lump of black plastic in the shape of his usual hair style. His face felt smooth and unblemished, and he couldn’t help but press both of his hands on either side of his head and give it a little squeeze.  Derek couldn’t hold back his gasp as his head squished and then popped back into shape, illustrating that it made completely out of rubber now.

The werewolf tried to run off, to seek help, but he was stopped by his massively hindered movement. Like most action figures, his limbs were stiff and rigid, their over muscled selves only posable at the main joints.

“Well, well,” hummed an irritatingly familiar voice, “that’s a nice look there, Derek.”

Derek struggled to turn around, his virtually immobile body and larger muscles making movement extremely tedious. He fought back a growl when he saw none other than Theo, the bratty chimera who didn’t hide his crush on Stiles.

The mischievous smirk on Theo’s annoying face was enough to clue Derek into the fact that he was somehow behind whatever was happening to him.

“What did you do to me?” Derek demanded, trying to threateningly stalk forward, but his posable joints made his movements awkward.

Theo shrugged his shoulders. “I was lookin’ for a birthday gift for Stiles,” he snorted, “and I know that he likes action figures, and for some reason he also likes you, so…” He gestured forward at Derek’s new plastic body. “And you’re just about done.” 

Theo snapped his fingers.

Derek felt as if his sense of gravity was thrown as he wobbled on his stiff legs. The shelves in the aisle seemed to grow taller and much larger. However, it quickly dawned on Derek that the store wasn’t growing— he was shrinking.

The werewolf was helpless to do anything besides get smaller and smaller, as his movements became harder and harder to create. Derek’s scowl softened and instead he held a stoic expression as his face hardened. Eventually, the former alpha werewolf had been turned into  ten inch tall super hero action figure, complete with big muscles.

“Perfect!” Theo laughed as he easily picked up the toy Derek, snatching the blank box in his free hand.

Derek inwardly screamed, but was helpless as Theo positioned his plastic arms in a manner that looked like he had his hands on his hips in a heroic pose. He was shoved into the box, and from his frozen position, Derek could barely make out the outside of his prison chasing colors to become bright and alluring. Unbeknownst to him, the outside of the box now read: Superwolf: the World’s Most Muscular and Cranky Superhero!

“Stiles is gonna love my gift,” Theo laughed as he walked action figure Derek over to the cashier.

The whole time Derek screamed at being turned into a toy, and he just hoped that Stiles would figure out a way to help him out… and another part of him hoped that Stiles would like his large superhero muscles.

[knightedmoon]

As someone that was on tumblr from 2013 to 2018 that exodus'd after the Great Purge, tumblr is a place I no longer recognize after attempting to come back several times in the last 2 1/2 years.

It's like you come back to your childhood home. It used to have original wood finish, stained-glass windows, oak cabinets, and crown molding, only for the house to now look like a gutted white/beige minimalist wasteland. Everything is too bright and shiny, the layout is completely different, the furniture is firm and probably not made to sit in.

You go back to your old room only to find someone living there. It's a completely different room with completely new items, and all of your old things were stuffed into a closet. You used to be able to open your bedroom window and talk to your next-door-neighbor and chat about shared interests and personal accomplishments. Now when you open it, an entire Rube Goldberg machine activates to shoot flames into your face via flamethrower.

The doorbell rings and you are met with a Jehovah's Witness there to greet you, and you think, "How did you people find this place? This used to be a closed community." Their 'good book' reads "bakudeku dni". There used to be a welcome mat that was fashioned in the stile of satanism and witchcraft. Matter of fact, this used to be a walkable community, now it's gated with an HOA.

You go into the kitchen for a simple glass of water, but nothing is placed where it used to be. Once you finally find a decent cup, you arrive at the refrigerator for ice. Before, the refrigerator was a standard two (2)-door white fridge/freezer. Now it's a silver, stainless steel behemoth with a smart-screen and strange symbols in the water/ice dispenser. There's a poll on the smart-screen: "where do the vegetables go? In this drawer or in that drawer?"

You walk down a long hallway full of photos you don't recognize. At first. As you walk on, they begin to get more familiar, however dusty and light-damaged they are. As you near the hallway, you find a very busted, dusty framed photo of the Onceler. Beside it in a similarly damaged frame is a photo of a skeleton in a blue hoodie. The final photo in this hall of fading memories depicts the clock from "Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared".

You reach the basement door. Curiously, the door itself is the same even if it's just been landlord-painted white. When you open the swollen door, you are hit with a cloud of dust that makes you cough. The light switch you flick on and off produces no light, so you return to the kitchen to scroll around in the drawers for a flashlight. Once acquired, you brave the dark basement. It gets hard to breathe, between the dust and the thick air. Quickly you realize everything you knew before has been stored here. You shine the light upon a box with scribbled sharpie. "Voltron".

You shudder.

More and more boxes and piles look familiar. "Danganronpa". "Vampire Diaries". "Dan and Phil." Upon the well windowsill is a novelty box with the words "Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons". The farther you go into the basement, the more battered the boxes are. All of them are homes to some kind of spider.

And there... in the very darkest, furthest corner of the basement, is a mountain of boxes, all labeled, "SuperWhoLock".

As you've taken in the house that is no longer the home you know, you stand on the front porch. A single tear falls from your eye. Why come back?

As the wind blows, you hear a jingle. You look up and see an old wind chime that hadn't been removed. Along with the metal and the beads, the charms on the ends depict a feather, a bow, and a pair of glasses with a handlebar mustache attached to them. Another tear falls when the wind blows again and the chimes whisper,

"Just girly things."

[daintylovers]

Champagne Coast

1.1 Pilot

Seth Cohen x Hailey Atwood (oc)

A/N: hehehehe I just loooovvveeee my stiles stilinski variants. this is an oc and she is ryans sister- twins! at least, same ages. I'm gonna try not to have too many physical descriptors of her, for all we know she could be adopted. hope you enjoy!

"Trey, what if we get caught?" Ryan was always so quick to assume the worst.

"Ryan," I started, "We won't get caught, but you might if you keep overthinking things."

"Hailey, this is grand theft auto. Real-life fucking grand theft auto, not the video game. Something seriously could go wrong." I just rolled my eyes in response. We had done this several times by now, jacking cars for parts. We needed the money, and of course driving around random cars was always fun. A way to blow off steam from the stress of everyday life.

Catching on to my facial expression, Trey slung his arm around my shoulder, "There's the spirit, Bambi." That was my designated nickname. It was a running joke, at first glance everyone assumed I was just an innocent little thing. It helped me get out of sticky situations. More than enough.

"Come on Ryan. Are you in? Or are you out?" Aforementioned boy sent a glare in my direction, willing me to change my mind. I just shook my head with a smile. No way out of this one.

One of Ryan's best qualities was his inability to say no to me. I was always dragging him into my messes, and thankfully he would always arrive with a mop in hand. Ready to clean up the disasters left in my wake. I could feel sorry for him, if I thought about it enough. But that's just it, I didn't.

If it weren't for me, we might be stuck living at this house, for the rest of our lives. No stories to tell, no anything, really. I can't live like this. And he shouldn't have to. Ryan was one of the good ones. And if I could find a way to get him out of here, he could establish himself, and pull me from these ashes.

"Fine. But," Here comes the ultimatum, "Hailey, you stay as far away as possible. You aren't getting thrown in a cell again." Oh, but it's fine if he does it?

All three of us had terrible track records. From fights to breaking and entering, the cops were our biggest fans around Chino. But now we had to be more careful than ever. Trey wasn't a minor anymore. While Ryan and I were each one way from juvie. Ryan had been on the fence for three months now. While I got my final warning just last week, for punching a guy in the nose. He had been trying to grind up against one of my friends, and she had repeatedly told him to fuck off. But to no avail. Ryan tried to hold me back, but I had slipped easily from his grasp, hitting my target so forcefully that his head snapped back and his nose was left bleeding and crooked.

****

Our target was a shiny, souped-out black sports car. I wanted her. I debated trying to convince Trey to let us keep it for a few days.

Ryan was still wary so Trey began to speak, "I'm your big brother. If I don't teach you this, then who will?" Then he smashed the window open. So much for keeping it for a little.

"I don't know Trey-"

"Hailey, get Ryan to get in the car or I will leave his ass for dead." Could have just told him that yourself. I wasn't Trey's biggest fan, but he got shit done. I admired that. Very resilient, the lot of us.

Ryan climbed into the passenger seat, while I took up the back. Situating myself in the middle, I had the perfect view and the empty streets we were about to race. Trey hotwired the car like it was nothing and we were on our way.

Except we didn't get very far before sirens started following us. Fuck.

"Trey pull over."

"Ryan- fuck off man no way."

I tried, "Trey, please. Maybe we can make a run for it."

Trey turned around to spat something at me, but swerved the wheel on accident, causing the car to smash into the building adjacent.

Kids, always wear your seatbelt. Especially if the driver is a fucking idiot. I flew from my seat, but Ryan's arm caught me and pushed me back. My head bounced off the seats. My ears started ringing, and I swear my neck almost snapped from the force.

Someone was talking, but I couldn't make out the words. Or the voice for that matter. But the flashing lights told me enough. I watched Ryan put his hands up, and look at me. He jerked his arms up a little and I got the memo.

With raised arms and my head spinning, I tried to prepare myself for the jail cell.

****

My neck hurt like no other when I awoke. One of the guards had been knocking against the bars, guess I hadn't heard him. He looked pissed. "Get up kid, Someone is here to see you." Who the fuck could that be?

With bleary eyes, I forced myself into a standing position. I held my wrists out so he could slap the cuffs on them before he led me to the visitation room.

Walking in, I spotted Ryan instantly. He was sitting with some older man, who had papers out in front of him.

Like he had some type of sixth sense, Ryan turned his head to face my direction, giving me a soft smile, happy I was alright. He was always the more worried one during this type of thing. He had a point though, girls are never treated the same.

Sitting down, he was quick to assure, "Bambi- you alright?"

I nodded, my throat feeling scratchy. He looked at me with concern, "How's your neck? The crash probably affected you more."

"I'm fine Ryan. Just a little banged up" I replied, voice sounding like hell.

I turned to face the newbie, who was watching our interaction like a hawk.

"Hailey, it's nice to meet you. My name is Sandy Cohen, and I have been appointed as your guy's public defender."

Having already thought about my fate all night, I wasn't feeling too hopeful. I just stared at him, with no expression. He didn't care if I rotted in prison for the rest of my life. No one did. Besides Ryan, but because of me, we would rot together.

Ryan asked about Trey, and that made me pay more attention. Was it bad, that I had forgotten about him? During my all-night freakout session, I hadn't once thought about how this would affect him. The only things on my mind had been about Ryan and I.

"Well, Trey is over eighteen. Trey stole a car, had a gun in his pants, an ounce of pot, and a couple of priors," He had a gun? "Trey is looking at anywhere from three to five years."

The man, Sandy, continued, "I'm not here for Trey. I'm here for you two. Ryan, your grades? Why is a smart kid like you in here right now?" Because of me. "And Hailey, you have community service written every which way. What, steal a car to help out the neighborhood?"

I couldn't help myself, "Something like that."

"She speaks." He laughed a little. I just stared at him. "Hailey, fighting? That doesn't seem like you. Ryan, truancy charges? Come on guys, why are you doing this to yourselves?"

Not receiving any answers, he trudged on, "What is your guys' plan for the future? College? Trade School? Anything?" This guy was trying so hard to remain hopeful for us. What a joke.

But- if we're really being honest, his questioning was making me a little sad. I had no future. Never really did. But Ryan? God, Ryan could do so much. I think I might be sick.

I guess my face cracked, losing it's blank expression in exchange for desperate eyes. If you looked extra close, my lip was sure to be quivering. If Trey were here, he would have laughed at me. He didn't take too kindly to emotions. Ryan learned that quicker than I did growing up, which is why his expression never faltered.

"Mr. Cohen, with all due respect, modern medicine is advancing to the point where the average human life expectancy will be one hundred. But I read this article that said social security was bound to run out by the year of 2025. Which means people are going to have to stay in their jobs until they're eighty. So, we don't want to commit to anything too soon."

Sandy laughed, but persisted, "Look, I can plead this down to a misdemeanor. Petty fine, probation. But seriously guys, stealing a car because your big brother wanted you to it's stupid and weak. Two things, neither of you can afford to be right now." Well, actually we can't afford to be anything right now- fancy lawyer ass. "We three are cut from the same cloth. I know it may not look like it right now, but I was once in your position."

I cut him off, done with whatever this was supposed to be, "And look at you now, hot shot." He hadn't expected that. Just a minute ago I looked ready to crumble, but now I was turning my desperation into anger. I just wanted this to be over.

****

Mr. Cohen managed to get us out, shortly after. Now the sun was blaring down on us. I had Ryan on one side, and Mr. Cohen on the other.

"My office will be in contact to remind you of your court date."

"Got it," Ryan answered, as our mother's car screeched up to us.

She stumbled out and thrust her poorly manicured finger into my face. "Unbelievable! This is the kind of family I got. Pathetic!"

Mr. Cohen looked like he was the one getting publically berated. "Ms. Atwood? My name is Sandy Cohen. I am Ryan and Hailey's attorney."

"You should have let them rot in there. Just like their daddy. Just like their stupid brother." Then she grabbed my wrist, pulling me to the car, "Let's go! Now!"

I was already buckled in, not wanting a re-run of last night, before Ryan got in. His hand reached back, and I took the tiny card from him.

It was Mr. Cohen's card.

****

Once back at the house, a pit of dread formed in my gut.

Mom had already poured herself another drink, before she turned her attention onto us, "I can't do this anymore."

"I'm sorry Mom," I answered almost immediately. I was always the one apologizing first. I hated myself for it, yet every time I couldn't help myself. The Bambi nickname was more accurate than most people knew. Deep down, I desperately craved some sort of parental figure's love. Dad left, and Mom only cared when it benefited her.

"I want you out! Both of you."

"What?" I stuttered, tears springing to my eyes immediately. Hearing my wavering voice, Ryan was quick to grasp my hand, assuring me we would be fine. She didn't mean it. She never meant it. But the what-ifs always pestered me.

"Come on Mom, where do you expect us to go?"

Her boyfriend answered for her, "You heard her. Out! Now!"

Ryan was pissed, all of mom's boyfriend always treated us like shit. "This isn't your house, man."

"Oh, you think you're a tough guy, huh?"

Ryan's grasp on my hand tightened, and then he dropped it.

"Both of you, stop it." Mom tried, weakly.

But Ryan couldn't help himself, "Why don't you get the fuck out and stop freeloading off our mom."

The guy punched Ryan square in the nose, so hard that my brother stumbled back into me. I saw red.

I stepped out from behind Ryan and went to make my mark, but the guy was quick. He caught my fist in the air, twirling my arm around behind my back, then shoved me to the ground. My lip caught the corner of the side table, and I felt blood start to fill my mouth.

I felt someone lift me from the floor, knowing Ryan was the only one who would touch me after that. If I thought my head hurt before, then this was hell on earth.

We were out the door in minutes. Making quick to get the hell out of dodge.

****

No one wanted to house us. Ryan tried everyone we knew. I tried everyone and their mothers, and yet all we got was rejection. I had one last try, and my money dried up. Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out the card we received just hours beforehand.

How did it get this fucked, so fast?

I showed the card to Ryan who just nodded, what other choice did we have. Sure the park benches were always an option, but after last time? No way.

Mr. Cohen was the only one to pick up.

****

The house we pulled up to was something straight out of a movie. I didn't even realize people actually lived like this. Talk about growing up on the wrong side of the tracks.

We were just about to go inside before Mr. Cohen stopped us and told us to wait just a little.

Not having any other options we nodded our heads.

Ryan started walking down the driveway, pulling his pack of cigs from his jeans pockets. I followed him down, waiting for him to finish lighting up.

Once he took his first puff, he looked down at my puppy dog eyes. He smoked but hated it when I did it. But I guess he was feeling sorry for me because he handed me his pack.

He turned his gaze ahead of him, so I took one out. Then after a second thought, I took a few more out, hiding them in my jacket pocket.

"Put them back." He chided.

Damn, I thought I was safe. I put most of them back, keeping an extra one. He turned and gave me a look, not having my antics.

"Please, Ryan. Just this once."

"You're getting your once right now," He said, sneaking his hand into the pocket to retrieve his stolen goods. Then he offered me the light and allowed me a taste of heaven.

Looking up, I spotted a girl across us. She was staring at Ryan. Of course, she was staring at Ryan.

Feeling a little out of place, I made my way up the driveway again. These rich people need to lock up their homes more carefully.

I made my way through the backyard, careful not to fall into the gigantic fucking pool in the middle. If I had a house like this, I would swim every night.

I continued snooping around and noticed the back door to the house was also unlocked. I stubbed out the rest of my cigarette and made my way inside.

Making my way around the corner, I was caught by the owners. And Ryan.

"There she is, girl of the hour. Thank you for gracing us with your presence." Mr. Cohen joked, while his wife looked like her head might pop off at any minute.

Sheepishly, I waved my hand and made my way to stand next to Ryan.

"You must be Hailey," the woman said, offering her hand. I shook it while nodding my head. "Great, well, you two will be staying in the pool house. Which I'm sure you have already found." Touche.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cohen." Ryan and I said in unison like the Shinning Twins.

The rest of the night was spent in said pool house. I had wanted to keep wandering, but Ryan wouldn't allow it. So instead we both tried sleeping, tried being the keyword.

****

I woke before Ryan did. Odd, because normally it was the other way around.

Tip-toeing around his sleeping form, I successfully exited the pool house.

I wasn't alone for long before, I heard a slight shriek. Looking inside the house, I saw two doe eyes staring back at me. Then I let out my own shriek. Who the hell is that?

He was clearly younger than Mr. Cohen, but I wasn't aware they had a kid. Unless they didn't, and this was some sort of looter.

Sliding open the door that separated us, the boy stepped outside, ready to question me. But I beat him to it, "Who the hell are you?"

"Huh- Who the hell am I? Who the hell are you? Why are you in my backyard?"

"Wait, you live here?" So not a looter, my first theory was proving to be more accurate.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, "But you don't live here. And you're pretty, but with the cut on your lip, I'm assuming you aren't here to befriend me. So please leave before I get my lawyer dad to throw your ass in jail."

"Well your lawyer dad, just helped get my ass out of jail. So I feel pretty good about my standing with him right now."

This made him falter, "Wait, aren't you supposed to be a boy?"

I just raised my eyebrow at him.

"Sorry, my mistake. I must have heard wrong last night," then to save his ass, he extended his hand, "Truce?"

"Sure, spaz." and I put my hand in his. We awkwardly shook hands for longer than necessary, before I pulled away.

"Seth, but close enough. Wanna play video games?"

****

We played on his living room floor for about thirty minutes before Ryan caught us.

"What the hell Hailey, you left?" Seth swerved his head toward the intruder so fast, that I was worried he was gonna get whiplash.

Answering the question I knew was on the brunette's lips, I said, "Technically Ryan, I didn't leave. I relocated."

I looked to Seth, with his big questioning eyes, "Seth, meet Ryan. Ryan meets Seth. You two are like opposite sides of a coin." Then I smiled at Ryan, mouthing "sorry".

"Hi, Ryan. I wasn't aware there were two of you." That last bit was directed to me. I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, you want to play?"

****

In the next few hours, I received a lot of information. Seth was in love with Summer, a girl, not the season. Ryan was in love with Marissa, the girl from last night. But most importantly, Kirsten, the woman from last night, was in love with playing dress up.

We were currently residing in her room after she insisted that Ryan and I should attend the fashion show later that night. She had heard that Ryan was invited and thought that meant I would want to go too.

Don't get me wrong, in another life, I would eat this up. But, I didn't have high hopes for trying to fit into this richy rich society.

Kirsten had loaned me a dress, light pink silk that dropped down to my knees, with an asymmetrical hem at the bottom.

"That looks great" she smiled. Catching her gaze in the mirror, I tried to smile, but it looked more like I was in pain. She wasn't wrong, it did look great. Probably the greatest I have and would ever look. But I just felt so empty.

No empty was the wrong word. I felt too much, like one wrong breeze and I would fall off the cliff I was on.

"Thank you for the dress. And for your hospitality."

She made her way behind me, patting my back gently, "Come on sweetheart, the boys are probably waiting."

****

"Welcome to the dark side." Seth introduced. We had arrived at the function, and I was trying to stay mindful of why I was invited.

The show started soon after we took our seats. Ryan's Barbie doll, the model-faced girlfriend came out first. Then a slightly shorter brunette bounced out after, and Seth turned to whisper in my ear, "That's Summer." Of course, it was.

He tilted his head slightly to look at me, waiting for my approval. I gave him a thumbs up, then brought my lips up to the shell of his ear, "She's really pretty Cohen. Watch out, I might just steal her from you."

Pulling back, I looked at him and we erupted into giggles.

Once we turned our attention back to the show, I noticed that Summer had already gone back. So much for Seth's five-second glance at her.

I turned back to him one last time, ready to mouth "sorry", but he was already looking at me. I proceeded anyway, but with my cheeks heating up. He just shrugged his shoulders, then reached out to turn my head back.

After the show, Seth and I managed to be separated from the rest of the group. After failing to find our group, we lingered off to the side.

"You know, you could have been up there tonight." he started.

I looked up at him and gave him a smile, "Really? I was thinking the same about you. I could totally see you swinging your hips to be beat up there."

His cheeks turned red, but before he could come up with another witty comeback, Ryan found us. "Guys, we should go to that girl Holly's house. She's throwing a party."

"A party? No- no I'm good actually. I like my house."

Never one to back down from a party I said, "Come on Cohen, what if Summer is there."

That got his attention, cheeks turning brighter by the second.

"Come on!" A girl from the back of the car ahead called out.

Looking at Seth one more time, I wiggled my eyebrows and started walking back. "Come on Seth, you heard the girl." Then I turned on my heel and got into the car.

Looking around, I noticed a certain brunette bombshell was sitting right next to me. She offered me her hand and I accepted, "I'm Summer. You're Ryan's sister right?"

"That's so close, you almost knew my name!" She looked embarrassed and I felt guilty. "I'm Hailey, and yes, I am Ryan's sister."

"Awesome!"

****

I had been at the party for about an hour now, and still no sign of the boys. Not that I had searched too hard for them. Instead, my eyes had spotted the booze fairly quickly, and that ended up with me dancing with some guy. He was cute, but not cute enough for me to stop thinking about Seth. I hoped he actually came out. He needs to experience life a little.

Parting ways with the guy, I motioned to the drinks and he followed suit.

Then I spotted just who I was looking for. "Seth!" I stumbled over to him.

He turned around fairly fast and caught me as I thrust myself into him, going for a hug but failing. He laughed and held me up, hands on my waist. "Hailey!"

"You have a boyfriend?" A voice interrupted.

"Boy-boyfriend, no, no I'm sorry," Seth said to my former dance partner. Who ignored the boy, looking at me instead.

I was bored of him so I just nodded my head and then turned to ignore him.

He must have left as I made my way to get another drink because Seth came to stand right next to me. "How much have you had to drink?" He asked.

"How much have you had to drink?" I tried to counter. He just laughed at me, before a commotion erupted outside.

Noticing Ryan wasn't near us, I had a sneaking suspicion that he might be involved in whatever was transpiring outside. I tried getting through the crowded kitchen, but between being slightly more than drunk and being shoved back by unsuspecting elbows, I wasn't making it very far.

Seth, noticing I hadn't made it as far as he had, turned back to grasp my hand, and then pulled me through.

Once we got outside, I watched Ryan get knocked in the face by some blonde douchebag who shouted, "Welcome to the O.C. bitch!"

What the fuck is happening?

****

We left the party quickly after.

Coming out of the bathroom, I felt refreshed after being able to take a hot shower. Ryan and Seth were sat on the couch by the bed, talking about the night.

When I came out, both boys looked at me and then held up snacks.

We talked and giggled for a while until each one of us had our eyes closing by themselves. Seth had been curled up on one side of the couch for a while now. Any minute and he would be out like a light.

I excused myself to use the bathroom one last time, as Ryan went out for another smoke.

When I came out, albeit I took a little longer than anticipated Ryan and his Barbie doll were curled up on the bed. Damn. That was my spot.

My only other option was the floor, or the side of the couch that Cohen fist rested on. I made my way to the couch, gently pushing his legs to the side, trying to get the pillow that he rested on. I figured the floor was a safer place than being kicked in the head in the middle of the night.

I was trying to be subtle, not wake the sleeping boy, but he foiled my plans. "What are you doing?" he whispered soft, voice clogged with drowsiness.

"Nothing, go back to bed."

He sat up, rubbing at his eyes the way a small child would, "Seriously, Hailey, are you sleeping on the floor?" he questioned.

He made a move to get up, but I placed my hands on his shoulders pushing down slightly. "Seriously, I'm not letting you take the floor. If you're going to be so stubborn, just sleep on the couch with me."

"Cohen, I don't want your freakishly long legs to kick me."

"They won't. Just come on," he said, removing my hands from his shoulders so he could scoot over. "See, enough room for two."

I debated it for a second, I had never slept in the same spot as a boy. But Cohen took my silence as rejection and immediately moved to stand. "I'm sorry, I- I should take the floor."

"No!" I was quick to interject.

"No?"

"No- just lay down again."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive Cohen."

And with that, he laid back down and opened up his arms. I crawled next to him, my back to his chest. He encircled by frame, "Is this okay?" I nodded in response, feeling the sleep hit almost immediately.

****

"Look, Ryan, Hailey, I'm sorry. I don't mean to play bad cop, It's nothing personal," Kirsten started.

Just minutes ago she had burst into the pool house, furious in only a way a mother can be. She didn't even question the fact that I was in her sons arms, only glaring at him and pointing behind her.

Seth got the hint and removed himself from me, following his mom back into the house like a scolded puppy.

Ryan and I made our way in shortly after, headed for the kitchen for one last meal before we were inevitably kicked out.

"I'm sorry, you two seem like such nice kids."

"It's okay, we get it," Ryan answered.

She was nice enough to allow us to stay by the Seth, so we made the trek upstairs.

Knocking on the door, I entered first. "We have to go," I told him.

"You're leaving?" he questioned, clearly sad.

Ryan spoke up, "We have to take care of some things back home."

Seth got up and shook Ryans out stretched hand. They did a typical boy handshake, before turning to me.

Seth and I looked at each other, unsure of what to do. I made the first move, going in to wrap my arms around his waist. I felt him stiffen at first, and then he reciprocated my motion.

When we pulled away he said, "Well, I can't wait to come visit you guys down in Chino. You can show me your world."

****

Our world no longer existed.

Once we pulled up to the house, Ryan and I were met with the shell of our home. Abandoned with a single poorly written letter.

Awesome.

"Come on." Mr. Cohen, our savior, to the rescue once again.

Back to exploring Seth's world instead.

****

A/N: holy fuck this took so long to write. but- yipee!! thank you for reading <3

[lookofhisoceaneyes]

**The Best of the Best: Must-Read Fanfiction Gems**

Hello everyone! As a long-time fanfiction reader and enthusiast, I've come across some incredible stories that have left a lasting impact on me. These are the fanfics that are so well-written and captivating, they deserve to be published as books. Here are my top picks from my favorite fandoms:

Okay before we get into this, a little warning: please read the tags that come with each fanfic. I don't put smutty stuff in here either. (I'll make a separate post for that). There may be some scenes in the fics, but it's not the main focus. This is about story, characters and storytelling.  Also, I didn't list all the fics, probably because I haven't read them yet or simply forgot. Besides, that would just make the post even longer than it is right now. I will definitely do more posts on each fandom, different tropes, characters and settings. Be patient, I'm doing this mainly for myself so that I can better organize my fics. I'm just not that active in some fandoms. If you have any suggestions, feel free to write them and I will read them.

1/4

I can only post 10 links per Post (tumblr does not allow more than 10)

Teen Wolf Fandom: 

1. It came from the trees by whatshouldntbe 

it came from the trees 🍉 - Chapter 1 - whatshouldntbe - Teen Wolf (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

“Don’t worry, Scott caught me up on everything,” Kira assures with a bubbly smile via video-chat. “You and Derek, huh? I probably should have seen that coming. I always thought it might be Cora, but Derek was the one that looked at you how I used to look at you.”

Stiles goes a little pink. “It’s still kinda new but, yeah. I really like him. He’s...” Beautiful. Patient. Smart. Painfully honest. Sweet. “...a total dork.”

Kira laughs and laughs. When she gets herself together, she replies, “Yeah, those little hearts and stars in your eyes definitely say different."

or

Stiles moves from the shiny, fast-paced lifestyle of Los Angeles to the foggy, sleepy town of Beacon Hills so his dad can become the new sheriff. Newly fifteen, he does his best to finish out his freshman year of high school (by staying under the radar) when he suddenly becomes the Beyoncé of the Supernatural community. And, without much prompting on his part, he ends up catching the eye of one of the most prominent Werewolf families in all of North America. It literally all starts with a stuffed animal(s).

🍉 THIS FIC HAS BEEN ABANDONED; READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 🍉

---

Main Ship: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale

This fic is for people who don't have much experience with fanfic or Teen Wolf. It's long, incomplete but so beautiful. It built a world that I could dive into immediately. Definitely read it!

2. Wolf Within by wynnebat 

Wolf Within - Chapter 1 - wynnebat - Teen Wolf (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Instead of convincing Scott to regain his humanity by killing the Alpha, Derek offers another possible solution.

—

Main Ship: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski 

I know a lot of people don't like Peter/Stiles and the ship is more than problematic, but in this story it fits well. What if Stiles had taken over Scott's werewolf powers and no one knows that Peter is the Alpha. I love werewolf Stiles stories simply because I'm sure Stiles would have been the better werewolf.

the podfic: [podfic] Wolf Within - reena_jenkins - Teen Wolf (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

3. What I Did On My Summer Vacation by grimm

What I Did On My Summer Vacation - Chapter 1 - grimm - Teen Wolf (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

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.

—

Main Ship: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale

Do you like fics in which a dog is adopted? Mysterious booksellers with a secret room? Magical creatures and a very mysterious forest? I love this fic, there's a great podfic here too that I can only recommend.

Podfic: [podfic] What I Did On My Summer Vacation - Chapter 1 - read by lunchee (lunchee) - Teen Wolf (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Supernatural Fandom: 

1. A Beginner's Guide to Communing with the Dead by suspiciousflashlight 

A Beginner's Guide to Communing with the Dead - Chapter 1 - suspiciousflashlight - Supernatural [Archive of Our Own]

Maybe it's the little girl whose disappearance turned into a murder, and whose murder turned into a cold case, and who has now apparently decided to move in with him. Maybe it's the unacceptable hole left in his life when his dumb best friend and partner in (the prevention of) crime decided to go and get himself killed. Maybe it's his brother, whose high-profile career and fantastic girlfriend and first-child-on-the-way are steadily leaving Dean in the dust. Pick one. Pick all of them. The why doesn't matter so much as the what, and the what is this: Dean is pretty sure he's going completely, certifiably insane. Sure, he hasn't started wearing all his clothes inside out, and he still showers on a regular basis (anyways, that's not crazy, just a little eccentric); but there's no getting around the fact that he just threw away his life, his career, and his reputation by dragging out his mom's old necromancy book and summoning a Class A Forbidden Entity to his attic. A cranky one, too. With horrendous bed-head.

---

Main Ship: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Even though I'm not in the supernatural fandom that often anymore, this is a great fanfic. Murder mystery, cop Dean, powerful being Cas and absolutely terrific writing. I love it and could read it all the time.

2. Catching Hell by ADeedWithoutaName

Catching Hell - Chapter 1 - ADeedWithoutaName - Supernatural [Archive of Our Own]

Sam Winchester is, perhaps, the greatest asset to the hunting community. His research, advice, and insight has reached countless hunters and solved innumerable mysteries. His life is solitary, but useful. That changes, however, with the delivery of a captured Knight of Hell who calls himself Dean.

---

Main Ship: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester (they are not related in this fic!!)

I know, I know, it's billed as Ship Sam/Dean but don't let that scare you away. Sam and Dean are not related in this fic! It's brilliantly written, with Hunter Sam and badass Demon Dean. I highly recommend it.

1D Fandom: 

1. Tired Tired Sea by Mediawhore (only available for ao3 users)

Tired Tired Sea - Chapter 1 - MediaWhore - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own]

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

---

Main Ship: Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles

From the very beginning, you find yourself on Louis' island and immerse yourself in a world of select solitude. I fell head over heels in love with the writing style and especially with the lighthouse. I long to go on holiday there one day.

2. Love Endless: Road to Recollection by wubwubnparmaham

Love Endless: Road to Recollection - Chapter 1 - wubwubnparmaham - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own]

The year is 1973, and eighteen-year-old Louis Tomlinson is perhaps the gayest teen to ever grace the gloomy, hateful town of Fortwright, Idaho. He has a best friend, Niall, a kindhearted music teacher, and his mother on his side, and everyone else is endlessly trying to kill him

All signs pointed to his life playing out in much the same way it always had, and he was trying his best to come to terms with that.

But the course of that life changed forever when he found the mansion. A notoriously haunted mansion hidden deep within the forests of his tiny blip of a town, it sucked him in and then never let him go.

After discovering the mansion was less abandoned than he'd previously thought, he is now left with the most riveting mystery of a lifetime, each new finding leaving him with more questions. Who is this elusive owner, and why won't they show themselves? Why is there a set of journals in the same handwriting that span over centuries? Who could ever explain owning assumedly authentic ancient Roman garments and relics of the French Revolution in the comfort of their own home? Why in the world is there a padlock on the refrigerator...and who the hell is Alexander?

[Book 1/4]

---

Main Ship: Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik

brilliantly written, if you like Soulmate's AUs, you've come to the right place. Vampire, 1970s, sassy Louis, what more could you want? And the plot twist is brilliant. Be sure to read the whole series!

3. Escapade by dolce_piccante

Escapade - Chapter 1 - dolce_piccante - One Direction (Band) [Archive of Our Own]

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

—

Main Ship: Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik

Very famous classic Larry fanfic. Brilliantly written. dolce_piccante is a great writer, check out their profile! 

[takaraphoenix]

Colds and Comfort

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, sick fic, hurt/comfort, fluff, Pack Alpha Peter

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Chris Argent

@writersmonth Prompts: sense + bus

Summary: Stiles is sick. Stiles is also used to taking care of himself. So when both Chris and Peter come running to take care of him after hearing he's sick, he doesn't really get it, until they spell it out for him.

This Story on FFNet | This Story on AO3

Colds and Comfort

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

There was an obnoxious buzzing next to his head, tearing him out of a fitful sleep. He groaned as he reached out with too much effort. His joints ached, making every move feel exhausting. Grabbing his phone, he unlocked it to see who was so excessively texting him.

From Zombiewolf [10:14]: You're late, darling. This will be loaded over you

From Zombiewolf [10:29]: Stiles I need you to let me know you're alright

From Zombiewolf [10:33]: Stiles. Answer your phone

From Silver Fox [10:35]: Peter is trying to reach you. Tell me you're ignoring him because he's annoying and we're all good, but if you don't answer either of us in ten minutes, we'll come over

Stiles blinked sluggishly at the texts and then started typing himself. Slow and taking far too long for his brain to formulate words. It felt like someone had stuffed his head with cotton.

From Little Red [10:37]: Sorry. Not coming over. Sick

Heaving an exhausted sigh, he dropped his phone back onto the mattress and collapsed down next to it, arms spread. It had started yesterday, on the bus. Actually, he was pretty sure he got it on the bus. The Jeep had been in the shop for the past week, after the latest monster of the week had attacked them and he'd hit it with the Jeep. Saving Erica in the process but also severely hurting Roscoe. So for the past week, Stiles had to take the bus. Too many people crammed together, and during this season at that! Yesterday though, on the drive back, he'd first had this sense of unease in his stomach, not quite nausea but close enough. He'd known, he was getting sick. And this morning, Saturday morning who got sick on a Saturday that was just cruel, he couldn't even get out of bed. Even though his alarm had been ringing since nine and he'd been eager for it too.

He was supposed to go to Peter and Chris' place, it was Saturday. Every Saturday morning, for about two months now, he'd been going to their place to work on the bestiary with Peter. Chris would go out and buy them breakfast and coffee and they'd eat together and then Peter and him would work quietly side by side together. It was the highlight of Stiles' week, which was a bit pathetic for a teenager, he supposed, but oh well what else was new.

Ever since the Alpha Pack, the Darach, the way Derek had given up his Alpha powers to save his sister, Scott had turned into a True Alpha and Peter had killed one of the Alpha Pack members to regain his Alpha powers, it had started to feel more pressing to gather information. So, Stiles and Peter had started compiling the Hale bestiary and the Argent bestiary and buying a lot of rare, shiny books online (because Peter had money and Peter spent that money on knowledge that Stiles loved to absorb and if he didn't know that Peter and Chris were happily mated and there was also just generally no way Peter would go for Stiles, of all people, Stiles would feel courted by this).

Groaning, Stiles rolled over with a glare. Saturday, of all days. Couldn't he have gotten sick tomorrow? He wanted to be in Peter and Chris' place, with them both, indulge in his stupid, pathetic little crush on the hot couple. These few hours every week, they felt so painfully domestic and Stiles could pretend, for just a little while, that he was a part of this, of them.

Enough self-pity and misery. He needed to drink something. His water-bottle was empty and staying hydrated was important. However, it also required him to get up. Groaning again, for entirely different reasons this time, he attempted to get up. And gave up after a couple moments, collapsing back onto his bed. Okay. No drinks or food for Stiles, then. That was okay.

His stomach rumbled. Because he hadn't eaten since lunch at school yesterday. He'd been so exhausted yesterday evening when he got home, he kind of just went to bed.

"Oh, sweetheart. You look wrecked. And not the fun kind."

Blinking sluggishly, Stiles looked up at what so clearly were fever hallucinations. Peter and Chris, standing in his bedroom, with concerned frowns on their faces. How were these men that handsome. Offering a lazy smile, Stiles rolled onto his side to more comfortably look up at them. How many of his wet dreams started off with them randomly in his room…? Too many.

"Wait," Stiles frowned. "I texted you. I did hit send, right? You didn't rush over here for nothing because you thought something happened to me, right? I sent the text?"

"If you mean the one telling us you're sick, then yes," Chris sighed.

"Okay, good," Stiles nodded pleased, before he paused again. "Then why are you here?"

Unless they indeed were fever hallucinations. The probability of that kept growing. Peter was crouched down in front of the bed, pressing a hand to Stiles' clammy forehead and then growling darkly, displeased. He even flashed his eyes red and that was just unfair. The Alpha eyes did things to Stiles, it should absolutely be forbidden for Peter to put them on display in Stiles' bedroom, that would only confuse him even more. And he was overall very confused right now. Mind messy.

"We decided to bring you soup," Chris supplied, lifting up a bag. "Where's your father?"

Soup from the fancy restaurant where Chris and Peter usually went for their date nights because did Stiles already mention that Peter was filthy rich? Stiles couldn't even afford, well, the soup actually. One time, when he'd still tried to date Lydia, he had taken her there and spent two months' worth of allowance on two salads. Man, was he glad he got over Lydia, he could not afford to date her. Well, not that 'moving on' had worked well in his favor, considering he'd hopelessly fallen in love with two men more than twice his age who were in a happy relationship.

"Focus, sweetheart," Peter snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Where's your father?"

Right. He'd been asked a question. Blinking repeatedly and slowly, he turned to look at them.

"Silver Lake," Stiles answered after a moment, confused by the question. "They're having kind of a situation and asked for back-up, dad and a bunch of the deputies went there on Thursday, he'll probably be back by Tuesday or something? I don't know. Why?"

"Why," Peter repeated mockingly, glaring at him. "Because you have a fever, Stiles."

"Yupp," Stiles nodded. "How's those two related?"

The wolf growled and flashed these far too sexy Alpha eyes again. If asked later, Stiles would blame the fever, sluggishness and fact that he hadn't eaten in twenty-four hours on his reaction, but he fully, instinctively whimpered and bared his throat to his Alpha. Peter gave the most pleased growl at that, resting a hand on Chris' shoulder, for some reason.

"You're sick, doll," Chris sighed and came to sit down on the edge of Stiles' bed. "Who's taking care of you, if your father is out of town? Will Melissa be by?"

Stiles frowned at Chris confused and then pointed at himself. "Me. I take care of me. Always have."

"Stiles-" Peter made a frustrated and near angry noise.

"I fully don't get what is going on with him," Stiles now pointed at Peter.

"Stiles…" Chris looked so troubled. "You look absolutely miserable, how do you expect to take care of yourself with a fever…? We did see your attempt at getting up, and the way you went down again. You couldn't even concentrate on a simple question earlier."

"And have you eaten anything at all today?" Peter tagged on with a judgmental glare.

"Fuck you," Stiles narrowed his eyes at the Alpha, growing irritated. "I don't need you to come here and judge me. I'm not a little kid. I've been taking care of myself and my dad and this whole damn household since I was ten. This isn't the first time I have a fever, I know how to get through it."

Chris sighed once more, but it was a sad sound. He reached out and ran his fingers through Stiles' hair in a way that made him feel like mush. Main reason why he had grown it out. The idea of someone running their fingers through it, or tugging during – No. Nope, not having naughty thoughts while an Alpha werewolf was in his bedroom, absolutely not.

"It's not about your capabilities, doll," the nickname never failed to send a thrill through Stiles. "It's about the fact that you shouldn't have to take care of everyone, and everything."

"Yes," Peter hissed. "You take care of both packs, support us with research, you're ready to help the betas, you come over to our place to help me with the bestiary every week, you do so much. I'm not trying to patronize you, I'm angry that when you need someone, nobody is taking care of you."

...Oh. Well, Stiles had no clue what to do with that. So, instead of reacting to their words, he just curled together small on his bed. Feeling oddly vulnerable now.

"It's not their fault," Stiles sighed. "I'm pretty sure if they knew, Allison and Scotty would be here in an instant. Heck, as useless in the kitchen as she is, Erica would attempt to make me soup, maybe Cora would help her, which would only make this more dangerous. And Boyd and Isaac would be battling my bed to change my sheets. Jackson would act annoyed but he'd still sit by my bedside, the emotionally constipated asshole. Kira would actually commandeer the kitchen and Malia would be dragging something she hunted in here, to make me 'feel better'. And Lydia would fully take charge of the entire household. Derek would probably stand right there in the corner, arms crossed, glaring like he's trying to glare my cold into submission. The twins would probably try to help too."

Stiles snorted softly, a fond smile on his lips as he thought about the two packs. He loved all of them dearly, the Hale Pack as much as the McCall Pack. And even though the two packs still edged on at times – Scott and Jackson had always been rivals and that did not get better when Jackson joined the Hale Pack after the bite took, while Allison and Erica also never saw eye to eye, both Erica and Boyd still hadn't forgiven her for hunting them like animals and shooting them and honestly Stiles fully understood that, even if he loved Ally some fiercely, they didn't owe her forgiveness, and similarly, Boyd, Erica and Cora were still wary of Ethan and Aiden for their part in their captivity, even though the twins had turned on the Alpha Pack and helped in the end – Stiles knew that both packs would be crammed into the house together if it was about him.

"Then why aren't they here?" Peter asked, voice sharp.

And oh no, he was so going to give his betas a scolding if Stiles didn't give a good reply. Stiles heaved a sigh of his own, not looking at either of the two. Uncomfortable with this conversation.

"I don't…" Stiles struggled with the words. "I don't need help, I know how to take care of this myself, have done so for years, so why should I bother others with it. They don't need to know, they don't need to fuss, I'll be fine on my own. I always am."

"You shouldn't have to, doll," Chris' face looked pained, his fingers still running through Stiles' hair. "I… I do get that you're very strong, we know that. And that you're used to not asking for help because for too many years, you didn't have help, but… things are different now."

"Pack takes care of pack," Peter growled, not threatening, just… softly growling.

"Please don't tell them," Stiles turned pleading eyes on him. "I really don't want to ruin their weekend and I absolutely can not handle having ten werewolves, a coyote, a kitsune, a Banshee and two hunters in this house, at the same time. I am so not feeling well enough to deal with that. Also, I am not sure if everyone would even physically fit into this house…"

He blinked dazed as he tried to imagine it. Felt like the home equivalent to an overcrowded elevator. He startled when Peter and Chris got up. And even though he'd just said he didn't need anyone to take care of him or help him, there was a weird ache in his chest at the thought of them leaving again. Right. He could take care of himself, always had, always would.

"Christopher-" Peter started, picking the soup container up from the floor.

"On it, love," Chris leaned in to press a kiss to Peter's cheek. "You take care of the food."

Huh? Stiles blinked confused. Wait. What was happening now? Chris grabbed Stiles' pillow and pulled the casing off and no really, what was happening here.

"What… are you doing?" Stiles asked while Chris stripped the blanket.

"The most specific thing you listed was changing your bedsheets," Chris pointed out. "I'm taking that as something you would really like to happen now."

"Well," Stiles tilted his head, feeling sheepish. "I've been so busy, I've been so busy I kinda hadn't gotten around to changing the bedding to my winter bedding yet. So. That's still the thin summer bedding. And I'm… I'm fucking freezing… Yeah."

Chris grunted and continued, sorting the bedding. Then, he turned to give him a look. Like he was waiting for something. Stiles frowned and looked around. No, Chris got everything on the bed.

"The mattress, Stiles," Chris sighed. "I can hardly strip the mattress while you're sitting on it."

"Ri—ight," Stiles nodded and made another attempt at getting up.

His knees were made of actual jello though, and sitting upright made a wave of dizziness and nausea overcome him in a manner that had him whimpering when he went back down.

"What was that noise," Peter called from downstairs.

"Dizzy," Stiles replied softly. "I'm making your mate's self-given task of changing my bed much harder by being unable to get out of said bed."

Chris huffed out a chuckle as he approached Stiles and then curled an arm around Stiles' back and reached the other under his legs, picking him up like he weighted nothing and damn it. Damn it all to hell. Was it not enough that Stiles had a major kink for werewolf strength and the thought of Peter manhandling him, did Chris have to prove what a Manly Man he was like that? Stiles squeaked high-pitched and wrapped his arms around Chris' neck, clinging onto him.

"...And what was that noise?" Peter sounded curious.

"Your mate has no manners and decided to manhandle me out of my bed!" Stiles yelped indignantly. "I am not a pretty princess, Christopher, unhand me!"

"Not a pretty princess," Chris agreed, amusement sparkling in his eyes. "Pretty prince?"

Oh, the fever was getting to him. He was hearing things. Closing his eyes, Stiles gave up and allowed Chris to carry him wherever the hunter wanted him. Chris could take him anywhere. Innuendo intended. And no, he wasn't even feeling guilty about these thoughts, not when those two broke into his house for the sole purpose of taking care of him. How was a guy supposed to handle his long-time crushes doing something like that.

"...Where are you bringing me?" Stiles asked suspiciously.

"You are sweat-soaked, doll," Chris frowned at him concerned. "Peter, if you have a moment?"

A second later, the wolf was right in front of them, looking at Chris curiously. "The soup is simmering, I put on tea. What do you need, darling?"

"This one needs a bath," Chris lifted Stiles a little higher for emphasis, like Peter didn't know who he was talking about. "Would you start drawing him a bath while I help him undress?"

A wicked grin spread over the wolf's lips and his eyes flashed red and what. Why. Stiles frowned. Was this some wolf-instinct thing of being happy to help out a pack-mate? Gently, Chris put Stiles down on the toilet seat and then pulled his shirt off first. So Stiles had spent a lot of time thinking about Chris undressing him but this was… not how that went in his fantasies. He sighed softly.

"No," Stiles' voice was sharp and his hand grabbed Chris' wrist tightly when he went for the boxers. "Absolutely not. I'm not getting naked in front of you guys. Out."

There was still some semblance of dignity that he wanted to cling onto. Chris nodded and left the room, together with Peter, once the bath was drawn, though Peter lingered in the door.

"We will leave this door open and if I hear anything that sounds like you drowning because you fell asleep in the bath, we are coming back in here," Peter warned him.

Stiles hummed his agreement as he went for the bath, movement sluggish and every step forced, but he was absolutely not letting them get him fully naked and worse yet, carry him naked to the bathtub. He would in fact rather drown in that bath than let that happen.

/break\

It took a bit to find where Stiles kept his winter bedding, and then to figure out how the Stilinski washing machine worked, but in the end, Chris was getting good work done. He raised a judgmental eyebrow when his lover entered the house, looking winded.

"...Did you really run back to our place to get our clothes?"

Peter growled though he looked embarrassed. "Shut up, Christopher, you don't understand werewolf instincts. Our mate is sick and miserable and while I, rationally, know that it's just a cold and he will be fine, my… my wolf doesn't, he just sees our boy is in pain."

Smiling softly, Chris curled his hand around the back of Peter's neck, pulling him close enough to kiss. He may not have the wolf instincts, but he understood the worry. When Stiles hadn't replied to Peter's texts this morning, Chris' mind was buzzing with horror scenarios. They lived dangerous lives, any kind of threat could have invaded, gone after Stiles, hurt him in various horrible ways. The relief that had flooded him when Stiles replied, telling them he was sick, had been intense.

"And we're here taking care of him," Chris whispered. "Go, bring him the clothes."

The wolf wanted their boy to smell like them. Chris wasn't really going to argue that, he'd love to see Stiles in his hoodie, wearing his clothes, being his. Shaking his head, Chris returned his attention to the laundry, ready to get their boy into a warm, cozy bed. It had been getting colder for weeks now and part of Chris was concerned that Stiles had still been sleeping in his summer bedding but at the same time, he wasn't surprised. Stiles took care of others, prioritized them so much, he often forgot himself. Chris heaved a sigh.

"You are ridiculous, Creeperwolf."

Chris' lips quirked into a smile as he got to watch his wolf carry their boy into the bedroom. Stiles was wearing Peter's sweat-pants, one of Peter's shirts and on top of it, Chris' hoodie. Sufficiently covered in both their scents, Chris hoped. A cute glare was on Stiles' face, half-hearted at best.

"I do have clothes," Stiles pointed out, as he was put down onto the mattress. "Clothes that fit."

For emphasis, he pulled on the hoodie, large enough to slip off one of his shoulders, revealing the pale span of his neck and shoulder. Peter's eyes were dark with lust and Chris knew it took the Alpha everything he had not to latch himself onto that neck. Chris was struggling himself.

"Indulge the wolf in the room," Chris requested amused.

Stiles rolled his eyes exasperated. "Oh, like half my closet isn't other people's clothes at this point because the packs keep leaving their stuff here in a very unsubtle manner. Is this about me being human, or me being in both packs? That you guys are competing for who makes me smell more like their pack? I swear, half the school thinks that the Lacrosse team is my personal harem by now."

Chris choked on a laugh at the face Stiles made, even as he felt jealousy twist his stomach at the idea of anyone thinking Stiles belonged to someone aside from Chris and Peter. Peter growled.

"I'll go and get the soup and tea," Peter left the room.

Jealous, possessive wolf. Truly, it was beyond Chris how someone as clever as Stiles hadn't figured out that Peter was deeply in love with him and willing to do anything for him. It was ironic, Chris had accepted this and ignored it for a while, after Peter told him – Peter had always been honest about his feelings, never kept them a secret from Chris (not that Chris hadn't figured those out himself, but he did appreciate the honesty). Yet the longer he was dating Peter, and thus getting more personally involved in the pack business, the better he got to know Stiles, the more he fell for the sarcastic, snarky, gorgeous brat. What can he say, he had a type when it came to guys.

"Thank you," Stiles looked up at Chris, wrapping the blanket around himself. "This is… so much better. And the bath helped too. You guys didn't have to…"

"We did have to, doll," Chris sat down next to Stiles on the bed. "But we wanted to. You deserve to be taken care of too, Stiles. You always take care of everyone, whatever they need."

"But it's not your job to take care of me," Stiles sounded uncharacteristically small.

He pulled the blankets even tighter, making himself look all the smaller. Chris frowned. He didn't like that, he liked his boy loud and brash, never backing down even in the face of danger and threats. It really did make him want to protect Stiles all the more fiercely to see him like this.

"Maybe we want it to be our job, doll."

Stiles tilted his head to frown up at him with a twisted expression on his face. "Listen, I know you're a great dad and all but I am not in the business for another dad. Really not."

Peter laughed in the doorway. "Oh, there's a Daddy Kink joke in there that I'm dying to make."

"Then go and die," Chris commented dryly, glaring at Peter.

Peter laughed even louder and stole a kiss before placing the tray with tea and soup in front of Stiles. Then, the wolf took a place on Stiles' other side, sandwiching the boy between them. Stiles grabbed his soup and started eating, but he also kept trowing wary looks at Peter and Chris. Neither of them indulged him though. If he wanted something, he'd have to say it.

"Why are you doing this, then?" Stiles asked once he finished his soup. "I just…"

"Is it that hard for you to believe that others care for you to the degree of wanting to take care of you, Bambi?" Peter heaved a sigh, brushing Stiles' hair back.

"Yeah," Stiles frowned up at him. "I've been taking care of my dad since mom died. He's trying his best, he really is, but he was never the… nurturing type, that was… mom's. And before two werewolf packs stumbled into my life, it was always kind of just me and Scott? I've been taking care of Scott since we first met, when he got bullied on the playground. I'm still getting used to having people care about me, so yeah. Yeah, this is hard to believe."

Peter whined at that, an honest whine. Usually, Peter had more dignity than that, he controlled his instincts better than that. But hearing their boy say things like that? Chris wrapped an arm around Stiles' waist, pulling him as close as possible. Peter followed from the other side, nuzzling against Stiles. A soft, pleased sigh escaped Stiles, his eyelids fluttering shut.

"You're warm," Stiles mumbled happily. "I'm still feeling so cold."

"We'll keep you warm then, sweetheart," Peter smiled. "And we do. We care so much about you."

"I'm not doing any of this out of paternal instincts," Chris grunted and made a face. "Believe me, doll, paternal instincts are the farthest from my mind when it comes to you."

"What… does that even mean," Stiles blinked confused.

"Nothing you need to concern your pretty little head with just now, Bambi," Peter smiled, patting Stiles on the head. "Rest, now. Get better. We'll talk once you're more clear-minded."

"Mh…" Stiles closed his eyes again, snuggling in between them. "Why… do you call me that? Bambi? Is it because of my flailing, like Bambi on the lake? Or because I'm the weakest member of the pack, the 'baby deer' that everyone has to worry about…?"

Peter snorted and shook his head. "Because you have the prettiest doe-eyes I have ever seen and they make my predator-instincts go wild, Bambi."

"...You wanna hunt me for sports?" Stiles frowned.

"I do want to eat you," Peter flashed his red eyes.

"You're very bad at waiting until our boy is feeling better," Chris commented.

Peter snorted and by the time they turned to their boy, Stiles was deep asleep.

/break\

Peter's wolf was contently purring as he woke up curled together with both his mates. Stiles did fit fantastically between himself and Christopher. Nuzzling against Stiles' back, Peter rubbed his nose along that pale, tempting neck. They were both laying half on top of Chris.

"Wait did you insinuate that you wanted to give me a blowjob?" Stiles squeaked as soon as he woke up, laying stiff between them. "Okay now that I said it out loud I can't tell if it's worse if you actually said it or if it was a fever hallucination and I just said that to your face."

"Blowjob, eating you out," Peter leaned over Stiles with a leer, liking his lips and showing some fang. "Anything you want, Bambi. As long as I get to ravish you, I'd be more than happy."

"Chris," Stiles yelped, slapping the hunter's chest. "Your boyfriend has lost his mind! Again!"

Chris grunted and sat up a little. He adjusted Stiles, who was still half on top of him, just grabbing him by the waist and pulling him fully into his lap. Stiles gave another endearing squeak and Peter followed the impulse to press a kiss to his cheek. A gasp escaped Stiles, those big, brown eyes widening even more, stirring Peter's predator-instincts. His.

"I'm fine watching him do either of those to you," Chris commented dryly. "Your choice, doll."

"Oh, my fever got really bad and I am having the hallucinations now," Stiles muttered.

"Your fever went down," Peter brushed Stiles' hair back, feeling his forehead. "You'll be fine."

"Then what is happening here," Stiles looked from one of them to the other.

"We meant to wait, until you're… well, until you're eighteen," Chris offered with a sigh. "But in the end, it doesn't matter, does it? We want you, now. Waiting is a pretense that's unnecessary, especially if you don't understand that someone would want to take care of you, because we want to take care of you in all manners, doll. Because we want you."

"I… have no idea how to compute that," Stiles admitted.

"That's okay," Peter smiled at him. "I've been in love with you for a long time, I'm fine waiting for you, Stiles. However long you need, you're worth waiting for."

Stiles turned away from the wolf, looking at Chris as though he expected anger or objection. Chris simply smiled and caressed Stiles' cheek, their boy nuzzling into the touch so softly. Peter sighed.

"I'm with Peter on this one," Chris chuckled. "You should be ours, we should get to take care of you. Share hot, soothing baths after long, cold nights out in the woods. Take you out to fancy dinners when you haven't had the chance to eat between research. Hold you while you sleep. Take you absolutely apart until your ever-working mind can find some rest."

A small, high noise came from Stiles and the scent of despair and arousal filling the air was so delicious, Peter had to hold back not to ravish their boy right her and now. He couldn't fight the growl though, the greedy and possessive growl. Stiles looked at him wondrously.

"Wait. The growling and eye-flashing isn't pack Alpha worry, holy shit, you're into me."

"Finally," Peter heaved a sigh. "You are my clever boy, and you really had me start doubting you. How did you not piece together all the painfully obvious clues I kept leaving behind because my wolf is too smitten with you to allow me full control when it comes to you?"

Stiles stared at them stunned. And then, with flushed cheeks, did he lean in, pressing the lightest kiss to Peter's lips and then to Chris' before settling back in on Chris' lap, closing his eyes.

"I'll do more napping now," Stiles declared with a yawn. "Thank you. For… taking care of me."

Peter smiled softly at their boy and then exchanged a warm look with Chris.

~*~ The End ~*~

[shinypostdragon]

Julia Stiles and some super cute shiny people.

[honestlydarkprincess]

put your mouth on me

stiles x derek || rating: explicit || wc: 4.6k

Derek was dying.

Maybe. Kind of. Not from anything real, but he was going to be the first werewolf to die of sexual frustration he just knew it.

Stiles was home from his last semester of college, freshly graduated with a shiny new degree in criminology. That wasn’t the problem, though. The problem was that Stiles had come home with something— something that was going to be written in as Derek’s cause of death.

A beard.

Stiles had a beard.

Or, the one where Stiles returns home from college with a beard and Derek kind of spirals about it.

read on ao3

[witchthewriter]

𝑆𝘩𝑖𝑝 𝑓𝑜𝑟 @perseephoneee.

𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐼 𝑠𝘩𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑆𝑐𝑜𝑡𝑡 𝑀𝑐𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑙! You two would click so much!!! Honestly, he would feel so comfortable around you. He would support you 100%, and you would DEFINITELY feel comfortable enough around him to let your goofy side out - he would love seeing that side of you.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

You are his everything, girlie, he absolutely ADORES YOU. He thinks you're wonderful, you bring so much joy into his life!

Scott took ages to start calling you pet names, because he didn't want you to think of him as cringey. But when you started getting closer, he felt comfortable enough to call you names like, "sweetheart," "beautiful," "gorgeous."

You're the heart of the group, everyone seems to come to you whenever they have a problem or issue with ... anything. You're like the mother of the group while Scott is the father :')

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Take A Chance On Me by ABBA

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 

Aggressively Supportive & Protective Of One Another

Sun (You) x Moon (Scott)

You Confessed Your Love When Thinking He Was Unconscious

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

He loves how courageous you are - he knows that even when Beacon Hills is infested with dangerous creatures, you don't cower and hide. You face it head on, even if your knees are shaking, you won't back down.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅  

Lydia! But I also feel like Stiles when you get to know him more while hanging out at Scott's place. Lydia and you had grown up together, and while there was a period where you were distant, she eventually came to her senses, and asked to hang out again.

𝐓𝐎𝐆

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐼 𝑠𝘩𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝐷𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑎𝑛! (I'm sorry I didn't know which gif to use and I kinda like this actor for the role of Dorian anyway-) I was going to ship you with Chaol but I feel like he wouldn't ... get your goofy side. To me Chaol is too stoic. Dorian is flirtacious and mischevious and fun to be around. But he knows responsibility and has that stability you'd need.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

With his magic, he can do amazing things! He likes to show off whenever you're around, even when you've been together for a while, he still likes seeing that astonishment in your eyes

Will listen to you and support you no matter what. Dorian would always make time for you!

Shows you his love through gift giving, physical touch and words of affirmation. He loves holding you, peppering kisses over your face. And you have so many shiny jewels and necklaces and earrings and rings that you have endless choices of what you can wear.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Burning Desire by Lana Del Rey

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 

They probably hate me (You) x Deeply, passionately in love … is terrible at showing it (Dorian)

Bashful (You) x Shameless (Dorian)

Home Is Wherever You Are

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Dorian loves that he can be himself around you and not be judged. He hasn't had that with many people - and those that he has ... well they no longer live. When he realised that you're a safe person, he promised that he would protect you no matter what. Nothing was going to harm you.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅  

Lysandra! She would be the best girl best friend ever! She loves sleep overs and brings all your favourite snacks. Even though she lives in Terrasen, she still comes for visits and brings Evangeline and you have a girls' night. It's so sweet!

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐼 𝑠𝘩𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑃𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟! His personality is a lot like Scott - they both have this need to protect people, to help others and put themselves on the line so others will be okay. They sacrifice. And I think Peter would absolutely love you! I'm serious - he would feel so light around you, like nothing bad could happen to him.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Most definitely takes you ... swinging? Flying? Oh you know! - the thing with the webs and you cling to him like there's no tomorrow. Yeah, he does that.

Strokes your hair whenever you fall asleep on him (he absolutely LOVES when you fall asleep on him). Even if you snore, or talk in your sleep, he wouldn't care one bit

Whenever he's nervous, you make him dance. Either with you, like hand in hand, or just standing beside each other and doing the most random movements. It really helps him get out of his head.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

We're A Team by James Newton Howard

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔 

You Fell First, But They Fall Harder

Malewife (Peter) x Girlboss (You)

Forever In Their Honeymoon Stage

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

He loves your silly side! Peter hates having to think about everything he does, and how he must seem to everyone. He may not seem like the type who cares what people think - but he can't help it. And then you come along and show him that other's opinions don't matter. You teach him things, and that's what he loves about you too.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅  

Kate Bishop! You guys are quite similar, but I think you have a more solid way of existing - even though you don't have an earth sign in your big 3! You'd get into shenanigans with Kate, but help keep her head out of the clouds too much.

[wulfnerd]

A Sweet Stakeout, sterek, g, 100w ◌ Derek tries something new. [ao3] For @sterekdrabbles, 20 Dec (disgust, rice, example)

Only thirty minutes into their stakeout, Stiles retrieves a shiny blue square from his backpack. 

“What’s that?”

“Really?” Derek nods. “I can’t believe you’ve never had a rice cereal treat! I’m going to rock your world.”

Stiles pauses with a second opened package, the sweet scent filling the car.

“Your taste bud’s world. They’re too sticky and crunchy for any sexy-time use. Here.”

Derek follows Stiles’s example and takes a small bite.

“Well? What do you think?”

“It’s not disgusting.” He’s more of a chocolate guy, but it’s not bad. “It’s fine.”

“Fine?! I’m dating someone with no taste!”

“Clearly.”

[amatchinwater]

Pairing: Steo

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Noah Stilinski, Brett Talbot, Tracy Stewart, Mason Hewitt, Josh Diaz, Hayden Romero, Corey Bryant

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of blood, mind games, hurt/comfort, feral behavior, implied sexual content

Words: 7656

Ao3 link Masterlist

The Soulmate Train

---

In the town of Beacon Hills, everyone knows the story of The Soulmate Train. A magical train that will take you to your soulmate in the middle of the night. Not every single person in the world gets to board and there doesn't seem to be any type of pattern to those that are chosen either. It's just known that the morning of your nineteenth birthday, you either get a ticket or you don't. 

Simple as that.

For a vast majority of the people who board the train, they're never heard from again. At first glance, knowing this information would scare most people into not using their ticket. Kind of ominous to get on a mythical train and then disappear for good. There was once a rumor that it was taking people just to feed some supernatural creature. A theory quickly disproved when Lydia Martin hopped on the train only to arrive back in Beacon Hills at Jackson Whittemore's house. So clearly they're not being served for dinner, their soulmate just lives somewhere else. 

On the days leading up to his birthday, Stiles wasn't sure how to feel. On one hand, he didn't want to leave his father all alone. But on the other hand, after everything he's gone through- Scott getting bit, the Nogitsune, the Deadpool, and all of the shit with the Dread Doctors and the confusion of Theo- maybe leaving wouldn't be such a bad thing after all. Maybe he'd even be lucky like Lydia and come right back here. 

That's if Stiles gets a ticket in the first place. 

Until the morning of his birthday that is and he's woken up by Scott bursting into his room shouting about something his asleep brain couldn't comprehend. He glares at the wolf from under his covers. 

"Scott," his father sighs, clutching his mug of coffee, "I thought we talked about running through a cop's house screaming. How it's a good way to have a gun get pulled on you?" 

"Sorry," the Alpha says offhandedly. "Stiles, you need to get up," Scott yanks the blankets off. 

Stiles dramatically groans, sitting up in bed. That's as good as his best friend is going to get right now. If he had it his way, he’d be going right back to sleep. "Good morning to you too, Scotty," he grumbles. 

"Happy birthday, kiddo," his father commiserates with a soft smile. 

"Thanks, dad. But a good point. Why am I not allowed to sleep in on my birthday?" Stiles asks, stretching life back into his limbs. 

"Because," the Alpha holds up an envelope, "you got a ticket for The Soulmate Train!" 

Scott is much more excited about the development than he is. To be fair, if Stiles had a chance to wake up first, he'd probably be more enthusiastic. 

"Let me see that," his father takes it from the wolf, "it could just be a birthday card."

"That's true, my Nona always sends me a card." 

Scott deadpans, "and the mailman left it on your doorstep instead of your mailbox. Two hours before the truck even comes around. Yeah, sure." 

"Good to see you're getting better at sarcasm, Scotty," Stiles scratches his head, waiting for his father's verdict. 

"Holy shit," his dad gasps, pulling a silver ticket out of the envelope. 

In a flash, Stiles is at the edge of his bed, snatching the item from his father along with the small note card. In bold letters on the shiny ticket reads: ADMIT ONE, Mieczysław "Stiles" Stilinski.

"Holy shit," he mimics his dad. "I got a ticket," Stiles mutters in disbelief. It's not that he didn't think he was worthy of a soulmate or anything like that. More so than cool, good things like this typically don't happen to him.

It's just surprising is all. 

Scott shakes him out of his staring at the silver paper, asking, "what does the card say?" 

"Right. Uh," Stiles' eyes flicker over the extra paper, reading its contents aloud. 

One-way ticket ONLY! 

NO REFUNDS, REDOS, OR RESCHEDULES!

You may refuse to board, should you wish, but you will not receive another ticket.

On the next moonless night, The Soulmate Express will pick you up outside your residence at 4:45 a.m. sharp.

DO NOT be late!

You are allowed one bag of essentials only.

Have your ticket ready for the conductor or you will be denied boarding.

We look forward to seeing you.

"The next moonless night?" Stiles repeats. "When the hell is that?" 

"Tonight," Scott answers without missing a beat. 

What the-

"Werewolf thing?" His father asks. 

Fairly asked too. Stiles loves his best friend, but he was failing every class not that long ago. If he wasn’t so worried about Liam for a time, Stiles wouldn’t even know when the full moon is.

"I always know the phases of the moon ever since I became one," Scott agrees. "There was the smallest sliver last night, so tonight will be the closest to empty it can get." 

He'd be lying if Stiles said that didn't make him incredibly anxious. He thought he'd have more than sixteen hours before the train arrived. Lydia had a whole week! Now Stiles is torn between going to sleep or not. Because if he's being picked up before five in the morning, Stiles is up far too early for that. But there's also the fact that it's coming for him tonight. These are the last sixteen hours he has to see his father and best friend. 

Stiles doesn't want to lose that precious time sleeping. 

"Well," his father cuts through his mental spiral, "looks like you get to meet your soulmate soon. That's exciting, right?" 

He scoffs lightly, "not like you can prepare me for what's about to happen. You refused your ticket because you were madly in love with mom," Stiles reminds his dad. 

"A decision I still stand by," Noah counters. "But you're not emotionally tied to anybody, son. And don't say us, we're only a phone call away and you know it. Besides," his father waves a dismissive hand, "you've got Melissa on my case about eating right too. I'll be fine." 

"Your dad's right," Scott adds. The wolf gives him the best puppy dog grin, "you deserve to be happy after- well, it's a long list, but you know which I mean." 

Yeah, Stiles knows what he means and he doesn’t want to think about it right now. 

His dad joins them on the bed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "you can always say no. We'll stand by whatever choice you make." 

"We'll even see you off if you go," the Alpha smiles.

Stiles leans into their embrace, "Thanks guys." 

"I love you, son," his dad kisses the side of his head before getting up. "Now, who wants French toast?" 

Stiles and Scott can't clamber out of bed fast enough. 

"Are you all packed?" His dad leans on the doorframe after they had pie. 

He's never been a fan of cakes. So every year for his birthday, Stiles requests a pie instead. Melissa made it this year, raspberry peach. It was fucking amazing. He's going to have to remember that for a future time. A small token to remind Stiles where he came from. The people who cared about him before he had a soulmate. 

Stiles puts the last hoodie- that has a small framed photo of him and his parents wrapped inside- in the one bag he's allowed to bring with him. "Yeah, I'm all set," he says, going through his mental list. "I think."

"Phone? Charger?" His father asks and Stiles nods. "Toothbrush and other toiletries?" Stiles nods again. "I see you're wearing your favorite hoodie already-" It's actually his dad's from the police academy, "-you have clothes in there too?" 

The laugh that bubbles out of his chest is unavoidable. Just a naturally good feeling of his father taking care of him and making sure Stiles didn't panic pack a bunch of socks. 

Again. 

"Yes," he chuckles, "and yes, I have underwear too. I'll be okay." 

"I'm proud of you, Stiles," his father's eyes fill with tears, growing bloodshot. "You made a decision for yourself for once without thinking about anyone else. Just been a long time since I've seen you do that." 

Stiles snorts, "I literally worried about you and Scott the second I looked at the ticket." 

His father drags him into a hug, "but you stopped and that's the point. You finally thought of yourself." His dad sniffles and Stiles squeezes tighter, his own emotions making themselves known. "Your mom would be proud of you too. Overjoyed that you have someone out there that's made for you. Let me look at you," he pulls back with a soft smile, "I don't care where you end up, you'll always have me." 

"Just a phone call away, right?" Stiles' voice cracks. 

"You're goddamn right." His dad ruffles his hair, "think you're going to be able to get some sleep at all?"

"No," Stiles scoffs lightly, "probably not." 

His father nods in understanding, patting his shoulder before leaving. 

"Come on, kiddo," his father gently shakes him awake. "It's four-thirty, you gotta go." 

Despite the gentle nature and soft voice his dad used to get him up, Stiles jolts awake. He doesn't even remember falling asleep. Last he knew, he was playing a video game with Scott- who's now also passed out in bed beside him. They were talking and laughing. Having one last night together. It was nice.

Stiles is going to miss it.

"Okay," he grunts, sleep still thick in his vocal chords. "I'm up," Stiles blinks purposefully, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes so that can focus on what's right in front of him. He yawns, "thanks." 

"There's a cup of coffee downstairs with your name on it," Noah smiles. "I'll grab your bag and get Scott moving." 

Not as awake as he's like to be, Stiles simply nods in response. Sitting up and throwing his legs over the side of his bed to put on his shoes, Stiles' legs feel like lead. Thick, heavy things attached to his body that drag him out of his room and down the stairs. The scent of coffee hits Stiles' nostrils and he groans, finding Melissa in the kitchen with a mug of her own. 

"Morning," she smiles brightly, filling an empty mug and passing it to him. He mutters his thanks, pointedly ignoring how scalding the liquid is, and nearly chugging it. Melissa asks, "are you excited?"

Honestly, Stiles thinks he might throw up. He doesn't have the slightest idea of what to expect. As soon as Lydia arrived back in Beacon Hills, her and Jackson left to go back to London. He'd only come back to celebrate her birthday just to find out they're soulmates. He didn't want to ruin their honeymoon phase. So as much as Stiles misses the banshee, he thought it best not to badger her with a million and one questions about her experience. 

With that said, it wouldn't exactly be truthful to say that he isn't excited. Knowing that there's someone out there specially made for him. Someone who is built to love and tolerate him. That's what most people want in life. 

"I think so," Stiles answers honestly, pouring another cup as his dad and Scott come down the steps. 

He's never seen the Alpha be much of a morning person. Especially before the sun has even risen type of morning. Yet here Scott is, smiling brightly like they didn't sleep for only three hours at the most. "Dude," the wolf's eyes bulge looking at the stove, "you gotta go!"

"Shit." Stiles hastily puts his mug in the sink. His best friend is right, he's got three minutes. "Where's my ticket?" He asks, patting his pockets. 

"Here," Melissa pulls the silver paper from her scrubs. "We figured you'd lose it, so I kept it safe for you." 

"Thank you," Stiles breathes a sigh of relief, taking the ticket and pulling his pseudo-mother into a tight hug. Never once has Melissa tried to replace his mom. But the woman is the closest thing Stiles has had to one since his own passed away. He loves Melissa dearly.

"I'm happy for you, sweetheart," she pulls back with watery eyes. "Call us, please? Let us know you're safe." 

Scott starts dragging him away before he can answer. "Come on," the wolf says, "you're going to miss it! We can say goodbye outside."

Ticket in hand and his belongings with his father, Stiles allows the wolf to pull him. When they get outside of his house, there's softly glowing blue train tracks in the street. 

"Whoa," Stiles stares, jaw dropped. "That's crazy." Scott yanks him into a hug, nearly crushing him. The human doesn't even care about the supernatural strength being used. This could be the last time he ever sees the wolf. "I'm gonna miss you too, buddy," Stiles claps the Alpha’s back and a loud whistle blows. 

"Alright, Scott," his father has to pry them apart, "let me say goodbye to my son." 

The train gets louder the closer it approaches. It's engine rumbling the ground when he takes his bag. 

"I want you to understand something," his father grips both of his shoulders, parental tone in full swing. "I don't care where you go or who your soulmate may be. If you don't feel safe, you call me. I'm still a sheriff, but I can make it look like an accident. You hear me?"

Stiles' eyes well up with tears, but he refuses to cry. "I love you too, dad," he says, knowing that's exactly what that speech meant. 

The train squeals to a stop, a voice yelling, "all aboard the Soulmate Express! Have your ticket ready!" 

The deep breath he takes does nothing to calm his nerves, but it's now or never. Stiles turns to face the massive, black train with glowing blue accents that match the track. Beautiful gold letters spell the name Soulmate Train on the side. Smoke billows from the front car and into the night sky, disappearing like it never disrupted the air in the first place. 

Ticket in hand, Stiles approaches the small set of steps below the conductor. He's younger than expected. Around his age with light brown curls spilling from his hat. Taller than him too.

"Ticket, please?" 

Adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, Stiles hands the man his ticket. The conductor punches three holes close together, making a triangle in the silver paper. 

"My name is Isaac," he says, handing the ticket back. "I'm the conductor of this locomotive, here to ensure your journey is safe and easy. Are you ready to go?" 

"Yeah, I'm good." 

Isaac gives him a small bow, extending his arm for Stiles to climb aboard, "after you, Mr. Stilinski." 

"Please, just Stiles," he says, climbing the three stairs up onto the train. He enters through the car's open door and when Isaac joins him, it closes on its own. Stiles can't decide if that's normal or foreboding; he's never been on a train before. 

Either way, no turning back now. 

"Your seat is right here," Isaac says when they're halfway through. "You may have the blinds open to wave goodbye, but once we get moving I must ask that you close them and that they remain closed." 

"O-okay," Stiles says, sitting in the plush, red booth and placing his bag beside him. He looks out the window at his family, noticing the faint glow surrounding the glass. "Why can't I have the blinds open?" 

"Do you mind?" Isaac points to the empty booth on the other side of his table. Stiles shakes his head no, gesturing for the conductor to join him. "We have but two rules on the Soulmate Express; that being one of them. Once we depart, I will explain the other to you." He checks his gold pocket watch, "just another minute. I'd say goodbye, Stiles." 

He looks out the window again, waving goodbye just as the whistle blows for their departure. Melissa offers a blown kiss, holding onto Scott whose face is a bittersweet mixture of joy and sadness while waving. His father gives him an earnest smile, waving goodbye when the train begins to move. Not wanting to get in trouble or kicked off, Stiles adheres to the instructions and pulls the blinds down. 

"Thank you," Isaac smiles, "I don't wish to scare you, but it is for your safety that the blinds remain closed for the duration of the trip. Of the few rules we have, it's the most important one." 

"But why?" Stiles doesn't understand the importance of not looking out a window. It's his favorite part of taking an airplane. 

The conductor clasps his hands on the tabletop, "what do you know about the train?" 

"Just that it takes a select few to their soulmate."

"Correct, that is our base function," Isaac says and the train really starts moving. "I assume you know about the supernatural, yes?" Stiles nods. "Great. We run on most supernatural laws. Time moves differently when you're here though. A ride that feels like hours could only be a handful of human minutes. Traveling through worlds, time, space, and even different dimensions or universes over the course of a single trip." 

Stiles’ jaw drops, “holy shit. That’s more of the supernatural than I’ve encountered,” he admits.

“It is for most people who board from earth,” the conductor explains. “Being best friends with a werewolf, you yourself have seen more than most would in their lifetime.”

“Okay, but why the blinds?”

“As I mentioned, we move incredibly fast but seemingly slow to those we pass,” Isaac states. His mouth purses, searching for something, “not everything we pass is kind. Or safe,” he tacks on. “If you open the blinds and make your presence known, I cannot stop whatever is out there from claiming you- or your soul- for themselves.”

“My soul?” He parrots back. This is not what he signed up for.

At all. 

The conductor’s smile dims, “I’m sure you understand that you’re not the first person we’ve picked up. Just like I’m sure you’re also more than aware of the fact that not every supernatural creature is friendly either.”

Stiles scoffs, “yeah, I’m aware.” He’s seen more than a fair share of bad supernaturals. Hell, he used to be one. Or possessed by it at the very least. 

“The rule is in place because most of the- let's call them dens for lack of a better term that we pass on the way is home to plenty of monsters that would love nothing more than to eat an unmated soul. Much like yourself,” Isaac informs him. “Others have become beasts because they didn’t abide by the no looking rule or were kicked off for upsetting my crew.”

This is a lot to swallow. 

“Remind me not to get on their bad side.”

Isaac smiles again, “just be polite and don’t bring up the fact that you’re going to find the love of your life and you’ll be just fine.”

“But,” Stiles crosses his arms, cocking his head to the side, “isn’t that the whole reason I’m here?”

“Yes,” the conductor agrees, “but so were they once upon a time.” 

“They didn’t-”

Isaac shakes his head, “we rejected our soulmates and now we’re destined to be on this train forever.” 

“That’s kind of depressing,” Stiles comments. “I don’t mean to be rude, but that has to be incredibly lonely.” What could have possibly happened that someone refused their soulmate? Other than circumstances like his father. But his dad never boarded in the first place. 

“We’re lonely, yes. But I quite enjoy watching others find the other half of themselves.” Isaac grins, “it’s why I can hear it all the time without going into a…state.”

He’s not so sure he wants an elaboration on that. 

In fact, he doesn’t.

“So how do I avoid upsetting them?” 

“I’ve found it’s best to talk about them,” the conductor says. “If you want, ask them about their life, their interests. Things like that.” Isaac regards him with an expression he can’t quite place, “I honestly think they just enjoy someone who’s willing to know them. Not everyone we pick up is kind. Or smart,” he winks. 

Stiles hums. Part in acknowledgement and part in contemplation. He wants to know more, but this is already a lot more than he was prepared for. Monsters attracted to the light and what’s essentially a cursed crew. This isn’t just a simple ride; supernatural or not. 

“Ask your questions, Stiles,” Isaac chuckles, “I can see them swimming in your eyes.”

“Are those the only rules?” Stiles figures that’s a good place to start. “Keep the blinds closed and don’t upset the crew?” Isaac nods in agreement. “Okay,” he says dumbly to fill the space while his gears turn. “Simple enough, I suppose. So, you’ve been on the train as a passenger, am I allowed to ask you what to expect from the trip? Other than vengeful creatures and monsters that would like to eat me and my soul?”

“I can tell you anything you want to know. Perhaps over a cup of tea or coffee?” Isaac offers. 

“Coffee would be great. Tea would just put me to sleep and I’d like to reach my destination,” Stiles says. He’s also still fairly tired from what little sleep he got. Caffeine would be wonderful right now. 

“I’ll go let them know,” the conductor gets up from his seat. He pauses with his fingers still on the table, “you should know. We’re about to pass through the Fog of Whispers. It’s unfortunately an unavoidable part of the journey.” Isaac warns him, “no matter what you hear, do not open the blinds under any circumstances. The voices you hear are meant to lure you, to scare you. Do your best to ignore them as they only last for a few minutes. Try to think of it like a book being read out loud to you. Not something you’re meant to look at, only hear. And please-”

“Leave the blinds closed,” Stiles finishes.

“I was going to say be stronger than your mind,” Isaac says. “But I’m glad you’re catching on so quickly. I’ll be right back.” He pauses, rapping his knuckles on the table, “I believe in you, Stiles.” 

He watches the conductor head for the door. Except this time, it doesn’t open automatically. Isaac simply walks through it as though it’s not even there. Stiles’ eyes threaten to pop out of his skull. He sat in the booth. He took Stiles’ ticket! Is Isaac technically a ghost?

For lack of natural light, the ornate sconces provide enough that he’s not sitting in the dark. The candles inside them give the train car a warm and comforting glow despite him being the only person here. And everything he’s been told. He should have brought a book. With Isaac gone, he’s bored as hell.

“Stiles,” a gritty voice calls his name from far away. A voice that sends a violent chill down his spine. Churning bile in his stomach and raising the hair on the back of his neck. “I know you hear me, Stiles,” it says again. A gravelly tone Stiles never thought he’d hear again. “Look at me!”

The Nogitsune.

Its command is almost enough to make Stiles open the blinds on instinct. His hand reaches halfway and he pauses. No. He can’t do this. One, he wants to live. Two, Stiles would actually like to meet his soulmate. And three, as great company as Isaac is, he wants off this train eventually.

“You? Have a soulmate? Ha!” The Nogitsune growls, “you’re too broken to have a soulmate. I made sure of that. No one is going to want the used up vessel of mine. Don’t you know that? I ruined you,” it cackles cruelly. 

“You’re not real,” Stiles repeats to himself. He balls his fists so tightly that the knuckles turn white, nails branding crescent moons into his palms. 

“Not real? Not real?!” The Nogitsune sneers, voice twisting. Warping into another’s. “What about me, Sweetheart?” He growls the name. “Am I real?” No. No, no, no, no. “Or did I cease to exist after I got sent to hell because you couldn’t be a big boy and admit your feelings for me?”

“No,” Stiles chokes on the word, putting his forehead on the table and covering his ears. “You’re not there, Theo. This isn’t real. You’re gone,” he cries.

But it doesn’t make a difference. 

The Whispers are in his head.

“Just like your feelings weren’t?” Theo barks a laugh, “or were you just too scared to admit that you fell for the bad guy?”

“I didn’t- I never-” Stiles rocks in his seat, powering through the urge to open the window and prove that the chimera isn’t really there. “Of course I fell for you,” his voice shakes, “it was inevitable.” 

“Bullshit,” Theo spits, “you never loved me. You just let them kill me and did nothing! I bet you were happy when I died.”

Stiles sobs, “no. That’s not true, Theo. I told Scott it was a bad idea.”

“Liar!”

In truth, the minute Theo stepped out of the rain that first night, Stiles was gone. He never stood a chance. But then there was the inescapable feeling that something just wasn’t right. That Theo wasn’t actually Theo and it had nothing to do with him being a supernatural creature. That this wasn’t the same boy that shared his peanut butter cups after punching Jackson in the face for bullying him. But that also didn’t stop Stiles’ heart from screaming for Theo whenever he was around. That night on the hospital roof, his control slipped for the smallest of moments. 

Stiles let Theo kiss him.

Again too when they watched over Josh’s body. 

Then just when Stiles was ready to say fuck it and admit to- submit to what his heart truly wanted, the other shoe dropped. So much happened the night of the supermoon and it made Stiles clam up. To chastise himself for falling for the bad guy. But when Theo got his promised Alpha powers from the Dread Doctors and a pack of his own, Theo still went after Stiles. The sexy smirks and flirtatious remarks didn’t go away.

It got to a point where Stiles nearly forgot that they were supposed to be enemies. When he and Scott talked in the library, Stiles was able to convince Scott to leave without him under the guise of interrogating the chimera. Theo slammed Stiles against the nearest bookshelf once the True Alpha was out of ear shot. He didn’t even hesitate letting Theo kiss him breathless.

Everything would turn sour the moment Theo would ask him to join his pack. It slammed Stiles’ brain with so much logic that it hurt. Everything would come back into sharp focus once more. Stiles couldn’t get himself to utter that three letter word like his heart so badly wanted him to. The word poisoned his tongue more and more each time it wasn’t used.

Until Stiles found out that the chimera had attempted to get Deucalion in alliance with him. He’s seen firsthand the things he could do blind. It didn’t feel right to him that Theo was putting himself in danger without even knowing it. By the time Stiles made it to the tunnels to confess his feelings and beg to leave the Demon Wolf out of this, Theo was already in the hole. 

No one even told him it was happening that night. Stiles thought he had one more chance to convince Scott not to let Kira do that. But when prompted with why they shouldn’t, Stiles didn’t have a good enough excuse. Because reminding the True Alpha that they don’t kill people didn’t work. And if anyone was going to hear it first about how much he felt about Theo, it was going to be the chimera himself. 

Ironic in and of itself because when Stiles finally admitted it to Scott two months later, his best friend shocked him. Said that if he’d known, the wolf wouldn’t have done that. That given everything with Allison, they would’ve figured out how to work with Theo.

The one time things blew up because Stiles didn’t open his mouth. 

He could’ve been happy.

“Stiles!”

Stiles jolts, realizing Isaac had been shaking him and calling his name. The Whispers are gone. No more Nogitsune. No more Theo. “Sorry,” he gasps a breath, hoping to trick his lungs into breathing properly. It half works and he hastily wipes the remaining tears away. “You weren’t kidding,” he gestures towards the window, “they really want you to open that.” His laugh doesn’t quite sound familiar, almost fake. Still a little too shaken up that humor isn’t ready to work just yet. 

“But you didn’t,” Isaac notes, sitting back down. “If there’s a most likely portion of the trip that gets people to break, it’s the Fog of Whispers.”

“Oh, really? I wonder why,” Stiles scoffs sarcastically, looking away to blink away a few forming tears. “What the fuck what that, Isaac?”

“It’s a fog,” the conductor explains. “We can’t get it to filter out no matter how much we try. It comes in through the air vents and gets into your mind for a bit.”

The door on the opposite end of the car opens, a tall blonde man pushes a white cloth covered cart. Coffee and a small plate of snacks rest on top. He looks dull, almost lifeless in his features. 

“Perfect timing, Brett,” Isaac waves him over. 

Again, they’re the only ones here.

“Cream and sugar?” Brett asks, setting the plate and a small, delicate cup of coffee in front of him.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you,” he says politely. 

The waiter’s brows rise, “you just drink it as is?”

Stiles raises a shoulder, “my dad’s a sheriff. I kind of grew accustomed to the taste since it’s all he drinks. How do you take it?” He asks, remembering they like when people care enough to talk about them. And he’s actually kind of curious. 

Brett’s features visibly brighten. Quite literally as color spreads over his face, “I used to be one of those people who had a specific drink at Starbucks.”

“What was it?” Stiles asks. “Maybe if there’s a Starbucks near me, I can try it out.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Stiles takes his phone out, opening up a note. Handing his phone over, he says, “write it down for me.”

Brett does as told and hands the device over, “I know you can’t tell me what you think of it, but I hope you enjoy it.” He smiles, “it was very nice meeting you, Stiles,” he says before walking away.

“You’re good at this,” Isaac says, crossing his arms and grinning.

“Not to be pushy, but have any idea how much longer this is going to take?” He needs more than just cheese, crackers, and grapes. 

“We should be-” the train jerks and creaks, “-yup, there it is,” Isaac quips. 

“Did we just go off the tracks?” Stiles panics, reaching for the blinds only to stop himself. “Right,” he looks back at the conductor, “why do you not seem worried about that?”

“Perfectly normal.”

Stiles sighs, “of course it is. Why is it? This seems like an awful lot just to reach your soulmate?”

“I don’t make the interdimensional pathways, Stiles,” Isaac raises his hands, “I just navigate them. Besides, isn’t there supposed to be nothing that can get in the way of true love?” 

“Fair point.” Stiles can’t really argue that. He may not love the person yet, but he’s meant to. “So what was that about?”

“Sea of Blood.”

“The Blood Sea,” Stiles corrects with a snort. 

Isaac shakes his head, “Sea of Blood.” Well, that’s just fantastic, isn’t it? “Pretty soon you’ll hear what sounds like whales.”

“It’s not whales, is it?” Stiles asks, knowing it’s not.

The conductor shakes his head again, “sirens. The sea ran red with the blood of their victims centuries ago. I don’t think it’s even water anymore.”

“Yikes,” Stiles shivers the thought away. Who needs to look out the window when his imagination paints a vivid enough picture? He has this feeling that they’re not your average sirens. The ones that look like devilish mermaids. 

Then the call begins. A hauntingly beautiful sound full of enough melancholy to appear alluring. A plea for someone to come help them. To save them from an eternity of loneliness. 

If only it didn’t lead to his death.

“It’s sort of beautiful,” Stiles remarks in wonder. It’s almost like the sound you’d expect to hear on a noise machine to help you sleep. “I see why people confuse them with whales. It’s rather relaxing.”

“Until they rip your spine out,” Isaac retorts. “I’ve seen what they’re capable of. Trust me when I say the only thing beautiful about them is their singing voice. When a siren attacks, it’s the loudest screech you’ll ever hear. High enough to make one’s ears bleed.”

“Peachy, aren’t they?” Stiles takes another sip of his coffee before putting the cup down. “I know you said you don’t make the pathways, but if they’re so dangerous, why not take another route?” Surely there’s less bloodshed elsewhere.

Isaac sips his tea, “would you believe me if I told you that not only is this the fastest route, it’s also the safest?” He eyes the conductor warily. “The Sea of Blood is the best way to get to the dimensional hop. Once there, we’re practically spat out at your destination. But no one can just start here. There’s certain paths. The one we used to take in my early days,” Isaac grimaces, “consider yourself lucky that the beginning was only monsters attracted to light.”

“That bad?” Stiles asks, finishing his drink.

“There used to be creatures that relied only on sound. You breathe too loud in their realm and they’d rip the window clean off,” Isaac explains. “Before getting to the Sea of Blood, we’d have to go under raging waters infested with Krakens and anglerfish the size of planes. It was chaos to deal with all of that on top of the monsters and Whispers.”

“So what changed?”

The conductor fiddles with the rim of his teacup, “one day I noticed an opening and it took the train straight to the Whispers and then here.” Isaac nods his head to the side, “it cut the trip and kept more people alive. I still lose people, but significantly less than I used to. Now it’s mostly from their lack of listening rather than taking too deep of a breath.”

Stiles nods, it makes sense. A crazy concept nonetheless. 

The train jerks around again, wheels squealing in their efforts.

“Are you ready?” Isaac beams, “we’re almost at the jump. Have you been on a plane before?”

“Quite a few times.”

“Good,” the conductor nods, “so you’re familiar with the feeling of takeoff and gaining altitude. How your ears will pop from the pressure?” Stiles nods his agreement. “That’s exactly what the dimensional jump feels like. After that, we’ll be right outside your soulmate’s house.”

Anxiety pools in his stomach along with anticipation. Stiles gives another nod as the train speeds up, “that’s great.”

“It’s perfectly normal to be nervous,” Isaac assures him, patting Stiles’ clenched fist. “You can always change your mind when we get there. Soulmates aren’t always what you expect.” The cabin pressure rises and Stiles feels the air bubble forming. “You’ll be a part of my crew should you refuse after the journey, but at least we like each other. It’s your choice, don’t forget that.”

The pressure in his skull reaches a breaking point and Stiles’ ears pop violently. For a startlingly long moment, he worries he might throw up. Nausea crashing into him in endless waves of sour sickness. Leaving him disoriented. Almost like Stiles isn’t in his own body, though he can feel all it.

Without warning, the train screeches to halt. 

“We’re here,” Isaac announces, positively giddy, getting up from his side of the booth. 

Shaking the jitters from his limbs, Stiles grabs his bag, joining the conductor by the exit. “Let’s do this,” he breathes out, wishing he wasn’t so goddamn anxious.

Just like when he boarded, Isaac bows, “after you,” gesturing towards the cabin’s now open door.

It takes all of three seconds after getting on the top step to realize where he is. He’s back home. Well, not his home, but Beacon Hills. The house itself is also painstakingly familiar, it’s on the tip of his tongue. He turns to face the conductor, “who-”

“Stiles,” Isaac smiles, stepping off the train to help him down. “Welcome to the Raeken residence.”

Raeken.

That’s impossible.

“But Theo’s-”

Isaac interrupts him again, “yes, we’re back in Beacon Hills, that’s true. But not your Beacon Hills. Rather one from a timeline where you didn’t survive Donovan and Theo never went to hell.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“Stiles,” Isaac grins, “I know all of my passengers' destinations. I’m just not allowed to tell you until you arrive. You almost got me though when you cried to his Whisper,” the conductor says. “Was he an Alpha in your universe?”

“Yeah,” Stiles’ eyes narrow, “is he not here?”

“No, he is,” Isaac confirms. “This is where you can choose to refuse. When this universe’s Stiles died, it nearly broke this Theo. He’s been feral ever since,” the conductor warns, “he snaps at anyone that isn’t his pack. Killed the Dread Doctors for creating Donovan in the first place and then Donovan too. He was made aware that his soulmate was coming, just not who. I don’t believe he’ll attack you, definitely not once he smells you, but…”

Theo went feral over losing him? That’s a lot to take in considering now nearly as much happened with the other version of him. Donovan attacking him was fairly early in the Dread Doctor bullshit. Unless this universe’s Stiles trusted Theo from the beginning. That the other him wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted, consequences be damned.

“But?” Stiles pushes.

“He’s still feral,” Isaac says.

To be quite frank, Stiles couldn’t care less. This is viable proof that no matter the situation or fucking universe, Theo always wants him. His Theo can never be brought back. Just like this Theo’s Stiles is gone forever too. They can both get the impossible and heal together. They can have happiness.

“I can handle a feral Alpha,” Stiles scoffs, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. A loud roar splits the quiet night air and the front door is flung open. Theo, shifted and red eyed, stalks towards them, freezing when he catches sight of Stiles. “Theo,” he whispers, eyes growing cloudy.

“Theo!” Josh runs out the front door, “you can’t just- is that?” The raiju’s eyes grow comically wide, “guys, get out here!”

The Alpha snarls, running towards them.

“Are you accepting your soulmate?” Isaac asks.

He looks at the conductor with blurry vision, choking on the word, “absolutely.”

“Then this is where I leave you, Stiles,” Isaac holds out his hand, “it was a pleasure to meet you and bring you to your soulmate.”

Stiles shakes his hand, “you too, Isaac, thank you. Tell Brett goodbye and that I’ll be able to try his coffee.”

When Isaac gets back on the train, he tips his hat with a smile. As the locomotive begins to move, it takes on the same glowing blue nature of the tracks, disappearing all together. It leaves no sign that it was ever there. No smoke. No lingering scent of coal. No indents where the tracks once were.

He has barely a second to turn around before Theo slams into him with a snarl. Stiles hits the ground with a hard thud, the chimera’s fangs mere inches from his face as he roars. Theo has his claws fisted on either side of the human’s head, huffing out growled breaths. Stiles’ heart is pounding. 

“Theo stop!” Josh catches up, skidding to a halt. “It is you,” the raiju says in something akin to wonder with misty eyes. “Theo, get off of-”

“Stop,” Stiles raises his hand before the Alpha can lunge. “He needs to recognize me himself or there’s no hope of getting him back.” Like Cora and Boyd the night of their first full moon after being deprived for months. “Theo needs to do whatever he needs to do,” the human cautiously raises his wrist for the chimera to scent. “It’s okay, Kochaine,” he soothes, the name rolling off his tongue with ease. Noticing the way that with every word he says, the Alpha’s breaths slow down. 

Corey, Tracy, Mason, and Hayden join them, the former speaking, “is this real?”

Theo snarls at the additional voice, ready to attack his own pack he’s that far gone.

“Back off,” Stiles warns from underneath the Alpha. “I don’t know how long your Stiles has been gone for. Theo,” he cups the chimera’s face, “look at me,” coaxing his attention back. Theo whines when they make eye contact, “my Theo died too,” Stiles’ own eyes water. Tracy and Corey gasp at the admission. “The Soulmate Train can travel between universes and timelines,” he explains to the pack. “They gave us back what we lost,” his voice shakes, stroking the hairy face he never thought he’d see much less feel again.

“I’ll call your dad,” Hayden whispers so as not to startle the Alpha.

“No,” his fingers glide along the point of Theo’s ears, “let me bring him back to himself first. We’re lucky he’s not stuck in his full shift. Call him in the morning.” Stiles sniffles, “I missed you.”

Theo leans down, sniffing the human’s pulse before a softer rumble vibrates his chest. “Stiles,” his voice is thick, rough with who knows how long without use. The Alpha collapses on him, arms wrapping around his sides, nose scenting his neck. “Stiles,” the chimera grumbles again. Seemingly the only word he’s capable of saying right now. 

“I’m right here,” Stiles assures his soulmate. Carding his fingers through Theo’s longer hair. “Exactly how long have I been gone for?” The Alpha’s hair wasn’t but an inch long the last he’d seen him.

There’s a pregnant pause before Mason answers, “six months.”

Theo looks up at him with red eyes. He’s in there, somewhere, Stiles is sure of it. The excess hair has gone away and the chimera’s ears are back to normal, but his fangs remain. The Alpha has had to live without him for twice the amount Stiles had. His heart bleeds for him. 

“Can you hear me in there?” He returns his attention back to the task at hand. Theo grunts in response, bumping his nose against the human’s chin purposefully. Stiles will take that as much of a yes as the chimera can offer right now. “Okay,” he tilts his head back, exposing his throat for the Alpha’s needs. 

Whatever it takes to bring him back.

But then Theo’s tongue joins the scenting and Stiles shivers from the act. It slams him back into the present. Reminding Stiles that they’re very much in public. The middle of the night, yes. But in the Alpha’s front yard with his pack right next to them just the same. Not the place to be licking someone’s neck…or grinding against them. 

“Hey, Theo,” Stiles gently pats the chimera’s shoulders. He gets an annoyed grunt followed by a nip below his ear. “Kochaine,” he muses, “I was just going to ask if we could maybe go inside.”

The Alpha goes rigid above him, curious rubies searching Stiles’ face. Theo seems to find whatever he was looking for, because without further ado, the chimera climbs off of him. The moment Theo is standing, he pulls the human to his feet and promptly into a bridal carry, heading towards the door without another word. Just more growls and grabby hands. 

Stiles doesn’t object, seeing Tracy grab his fallen bag over the Alpha’s shoulder. He simply wraps his arms around his soulmate’s neck, enjoying being able to feel Theo’s warmth again. Hear his strong breaths of life coursing through the chimera. Stiles never once dreamed he’d get to be around Theo ever again. 

This couldn’t be more of a fantasy come to life. 

When they reach Theo’s room upstairs, he’s unceremoniously dropped on the bed. Stiles has barely a chance to recover before Theo is on top of him again. For the first time tonight, the Alpha says something other than his name.

“I need you,” Theo murmurs into his neck, suggestive hands squeeze his waist. Fingers pleading just as much as the Alpha’s words, “please, Stiles. Need you.”

“I’m right here,” he assures his soulmate, lifting his head to make Theo look at him. “Take what you need,” Stiles says, pulling the Alpha into a kiss. Not caring in the slightest over the way his fangs make it sloppy and uncoordinated. 

He finally has Theo and not a damn thing is going to dampen that. 

They have all the time in the world for proper kissing.

Because when it boils down to it, Stiles needs this just as much as the chimera does. When the Alpha thrusts inside of him, there isn’t a single thing that could make it better. Watching Theo come apart with his name moaned from the chimera’s lips is perfect. Because when they stop, Theo still inside of him, blue eyes blink lovingly back at him. Theo, finally back to himself once more, is smiling and brushing his fingers along Stiles’ face.

Stiles couldn’t be more happy to have gotten a ticket. 

[scribeoffate]

Very intrigued by the mason fic, the mermaid scott one and the hayden take three fic

Thanks for asking!

The mason fic was something I was trying for Mason week, there is not much in it:

Five times mason comes out + one time he doesn’t have to? 3 times, mom, dad, siblings, +liam

Mason and Liam having a sleepover

mermaid!Scott is exactly what is sounds like. :D Here is some of what I put when I was playing around with the idea. (That's really all this has so far. It does have a bit where Scott is captured. Because. I have a brand.)

Mermaid! Scott has a green tail with iridescent scales. They are really shiny and pretty. He has long dark hair that falls around his face in soft curls. His bare chest ripples with muscles, trailing down to meet his tail. He smiles a lot, in the water and all of the mermaids are smitten with him, he’s so beautiful.

His best friend is ofc, Stiles. Stiles has blue and green scales, less sparkly than Scott’s. His hair is shorter, but still falls around his face. Long hair is normal.

Hayden take 3 is my third attempt at a "Hayden and Scott talk about what it's like to die" fic.

“Who told you?” he asks.

“Liam. He said, when you guys faced the assassins that Noshiko told Kira how to stop your heart.”

Scott sags with relief. He hasn’t told anyone about what happened with Theo, not really. Mason knows. Stiles suspects. But it’s not… he clears his throat, he doesn’t want to think about it.

Ask about a wip!