Stiles Stilinksi Fanfiction - Blog Posts

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 𖤟 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

★ 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈

𝑖 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝑏*𝑡𝑐ℎ... 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑙, 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑖 𝑑𝑜

Where Savanna Rios, the reigning queen of Beacon Hills High, learns that while she may be at the top of the social food chain, she's not the only predator prowling the campus.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!OC

© teen wolf ( season 3a - TBD ) » villain playlist

Warnings: swearing, sexual themes, death, blood, gore, violence, brief mentions of cannibalism (she's a man eating siren), oc being a bully with a heart of gold, human sacrifices, biting, hair pulling, slowburn, eventual smut.

00. prologue

01. femme fatale

02. maneater

more coming soon . . .

stiles stilinksi: breakable heaven; pt. 1, “fever dream high in the quiet of the night, you know that i caught it.”

description: situationship x stiles stilinksi?? fuck yeah. this part is really long and honestly is just setting the story up, so just expect tension, pining, and silliness. part two soon! enjoy xo

OTHER STORY PARTS linked here.

“someone needs to sex me right now!”

danny slams his locker shut, fed up with stiles’ griping and groaning about his lack of sexual experiences. he knows he should just mind his business, but part of him felt bad for stiles. he wasn't an ugly guy. loud, annoying, and dramatic? yes. but, nonethless, danny knew what it was like to feel unwanted, ugly. stiles deserved to experience that validation. besides, maybe getting laid would chill him out a bit.

“okay,” danny leanes against his locker, annoyance and exasperation in his tone.

stiles turns towards him around, curious, “really?”

danny examines stiles’ eager response, and realizes the younger boy thinks they’ve just made a sex pact. danny cringes, “ew, absolutely not. you are not my type.”

stiles falters, eyes falling from danny's. “aw. okay.”

danny furrows his brows. stiles was...so very unique. he almost drops the subject. but, then, as stiles goes to turn back towards scott, danny sighs, garnering his attention again. “i do have a friend.”

stiles perks up again, the light glinting up his brown, mischievous eyes. “oh? a friend? a girl space friend? not some little twink, right? you mean, like, a female woman?”

danny nods with a slight roll of his eyes. “yes, dumbass, a girl space friend. my friend got her heart broke over the summer, so she’s not looking for anything serious. she just wants to hang. and, i think she’d be into you.”

stiles grabs scott by the shoulders and shakes his friend around like they have just won the state championship. scott is thrown off balance, and grabs at the lockers beside him for support. danny pats stiles’ shoulders as he passes by.

“i’ll send your her number," is his closing statement. it seals the deal for stiles.

he breaks out into a dance, shaking his fists in the air, wiggling his little hips. “i’m gonna get laid,” he sings out with his eyes squeezed shut from the width of his grin. “i’m gonna have seeeeeeex!”

scott, balanced on his feet now, shifts his backpack between shoulders. “stiles?” he calls out, intruding his friend’s celebration.

stiles cannot hear him. so, scott grabs stiles by the shoulders, facing him with seriousness in his tone. “stiles!”

scott has always been supportive of any opportunity for stiles to lose his v-card. although, this time, it seems his friend is only obsessing over the idea of not being murdered, rather than actually losing his virginity. anyways, scott had always thought it would happen with someone stiles cared about, like lydia, or another girl he would develop a relationship with. not some one night stand. not something this casual. he wants to express his concern, knowing his friend is vulnerable and easily tainted.

stiles is shocked by scott's loud voice, taken out of his trance involuntarily. “what?!”

the bell rings. scott, a newfound academia, begins to pull stiles along with him through the hallway, so they’re not late to chemistry. he wraps his arm around stiles’ shoulder, “do you seriously think that you-“ he pokes his chest, “stiles stilinksi, can just chill with a girl?”

stiles winces at scott’s finger and rubs his chest after it retracts. “first of all- ouch!” he groans, “second of all, yes! i think i can just chill.”

he puffs his chest, straightens his jacket dramatically. all mannerisms he exhibits within this second after his proclamation guarantee that he, stiles stilinksi, can not, in fact, just chill.

stiles brushes past scott, leading the way into chemistry class. scott watches from the door as his friend slides into his seat, dumping his backpack on the floor, flicking his head at lydia across the room. she purses her lips and looks away. stiles slouches in his seat. scott didn’t need a werewolves intuition to see so plainly that stiles would get his heart broken.

Danny: hey stiles. here's y/n's number. don't hurt her or i stg ill beat ur ass. enjoy ;)

—

"danny, why the fuck are you selling me off like some pimp?"

danny flinches at the sound of her voice, looking up from his phone with a wary expression. he didn't exactly get his friend's permission to give away her phone number. but, at this point, he didn't really care. he loved her, but the poor girl needed dick more than a camel in the desert needed water. she kept claiming she'd have a hot girl summer- which turned into get augusted by some stupid college boy. and, the fall was already starting. he knew she wouldn't make it through senior year without human touch. she was starting to shrivel away into nothingness.

danny, leaned up against his locker, rolled his eyes as y/n came to a halt in front of him. "girl, be for real."

she crossed her arms, "you be for real, bitch! i did not ask for some junior boy to be stinking up my line with his horny ass!" y/n waved her phone in front of his face.

danny grabbed the device from her and read aloud the text stiles had sent her. "hey, there! this is stiles stilinski. you probably don't know me, but we have a mutual friend, danny. gay danny, not republican, sophomore danny. anyways, gay danny told me you were dtf? we should totally hook up sometime! let me know, and we can chill or something!"

"oh, my god," y/n smashed her face into her hands, redder than the stripes on danny's t-shirt. "who the fuck texts like that? that is so- oh, my god. i'm gonna block him."

danny quickly shut down the idea, "no, no, no! i know this message makes him seem like a literal incel. but stiles is cute! he's kinda sweet. i mean, ive known him since he was on the jv team four years ago. he's kinda awkward and a little weird, but i think you'd like him."

she looked at her friend with a cringed expression. "i trust and love you so much. but this...this text message is a giant red flag."

"okay, valid," danny pointed, handing her back her phone. "man, i was really hoping this would work out. listen...why don't you at least meet him? come to the lacrosse game tonight. i'll introduce you guys afterwards. maybe i'll organize a little post-game outing to the diner or something."

y/n shrugs throughout danny's idea. but, she eventually relaxes her shoulders, and becomes a little more willing. "i mean...i guess. but, do not leave me alone with him! please! i do not want to end up on dateline."

"girl, please, he couldn't harm a fly. he's got arms the size of spaghetti noodles."

y/n giggled at danny's description. "i keep trying to picture him in my mind, but i just can't. do you have a pic?"

"he was in our english class last year, but he had a buzz cut then-"

"red flag."

"shut up," danny shoved her arm. "here," he whips out his phone and finds stiles' instagram. there's a bunch of pictures of his jeep, and y/n doesn't hesitate to point out how this, too, is a red flag. to which danny replies, "the color of anything doesn't matter when y'all are fucking."

danny finally swipes enough on stiles' recent post to find one of him and scott, at an amusement park or something a few weeks ago. they have their arms around each other's shoulders and are both throwing up peace signs. y/n sees scott first and recognizes him, "he's the co-captain, right? he glew up, for real."

danny nods in agreement, "yeah, but this one's stiles."

he zooms in with his thumb and pointer finger. stiles grin and his sweet brown eyes catches y/n's gaze. she smiles at the sight, "aw, okay. yeah, he's adorable. i'll meet him."

y/n and danny are unaware, but scott and stiles are at the end of the hallway, whooping and hollering at the plans they haven't even been made directly aware of. scott is still feeling wary for his friend, but stiles can't think of anything at all when he lays his eyes on her.

sure, the thoughts he's having are impure, like how she'd look naked, under him, with her lips plump and ripe from his teeth. but, he's also thinking about how beautiful she is.

nothing about this situation was going to end up casual. in fact, it would probably end in flames.

—

y/n attended lacrosse games every once and a while, in support of her cousin, issac, and danny. she normally had to work, but she managed to get her coworker to switch shifts with her. she wasn’t a sports kinda gal, but it was fun to be an active teenager every once a while. danny let her borrow his away jersey, and she wore that over a long sleeves shirt. it was three sizes too big, but it helped her stay warm, considering it was freezing outside.

y/n went with three other’s in their loose friend group: megan and leo, the longterm straight couple, and jack. they found seats towards the back, and huddled in with the rest of the crowd. y/n caught danny’s gaze from the bench. he was adjusting his gloves, and y/n waved crazily when she saw him.

danny waved back, wide grin on his face. he glanced around the bench, in search of something or someone. then, he perked up at the sight of another player. he glanced back at y/n, and pointed at the boy.

“stiles,” danny mouthed.

y/n stood up, and followed danny’s line of sight. sure enough, stiles was standing in front of the bench, a few people down from danny. he was talking quickly, throwing his hands about like a madman. she recognized scott sitting to the left of him, half-listening to his friend. then, scott seemed to feel her gaze on the two of them. he grabbed at stiles arms, telling him something. stiles quickly looked towards danny, who glanced back at y/n.

stiles followed danny’s turn of head, and met her eyes. her hand, still raised from saying hello to danny, waved towards stiles. he blushed, a deep red color, and smiled this dopey, puppy dog grin. he moved about himself, unsure of what to do. somehow, he stepped on his helmet, and fell to the ground.

scott looked back at y/n, squeezed his eyes shut in utter disappointment at his friend, and hung his head low. he leaned down, grabbed stiles by the collar, and landed the boy back on his feet. y/n met danny’s eyes, pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t burst out giggling. danny covered his mouth, and his shoulders shook with laughter.

stiles quickly sat himself down, avoiding y/n’s gaze. he was embarrassed, and sure she was making a cringed face at him. but, he didn’t know that she was grinning as she sat. her eyes were glinting.

the game started shortly after, and it ended almost as quickly as it had begun. it was close, and the wolves almost lost. but, luckily, the boys managed to even out the score, and dug the other team a shallow grave.

y/n found herself cheering for her school’s team throughout the game. she quickly learned stiles number, and watched him, along with danny, dart around the field. he was pretty good, though he was tiny. he was taller than average, and that gave him some advantage against other players. plus, being skinny made him fast. he had made a few scores, and y/n whooped and hollered in response.

meanwhile, stiles found himself looking towards her seat throughout the game. she had a really infectious smile, and, damn, she was loud. at times, he could hear her voice over everybody else.

after the game, the crowd dispersed, and the team lingered on the field to not only hear coaches closing speech, but to celebrate with friends and family members. y/n, jack, leo, and megan climbed down the bleachers and crowded towards danny. his family hadn’t made it that evening.

y/n found herself nervous to formally meet stiles. she had replied to his text message earlier, informing him of danny’s idea for them to meet. she didn’t address the half of his message that was weird and kind of cryptic. she didn’t really want to think of that big ick.

anyways, seeing him in real life, in his cute little lacrosse uniform, polished his reputation up just a bit. danny was right, it didn’t really matter what his personality was like if they were just gonna fuck. but, y/n still wanted him to be a decent person. they’d have to hang out just a little bit. and she’d rather not have to sit through his apparent need to rant frequently if those rambles were about stupid, gross things.

danny saw his friends and his face lit up. he jogged the small distance to y/n, who pumped her fists in the air with excitement. danny embraced her tightly, lifting her off her feet.

“good job, dan!” she cheered in his ear, squeezing him around his shoulders. up in the air, y/n spotted stiles a little ways behind them. he was chatting with scott, an older woman, and the sheriff. he caught her gaze and stumbled over his words. he raised his hand in a short wave. y/n simply smiled in response before squeezing her eyes shut and leaning her chin into danny’s neck. he set her back on her feet. then, he celebrated with their other friends, too.

megan and leo left right after greeting danny because she had to work in the morning. but, jack hung around with them. he and y/n didn’t speak much. they just hung out with the same group of people. and, hanging out usually just meant getting high in danny’s basement or going on group dates to the movies.

“dude, that was a sick game!”

y/n tried to pretend like she knew what jack and danny were talking about, or that she was even remotely interested in the topic of conversation. she tried to strain her gaze over danny’s shoulder without seeming obvious. stiles was cute. like, super cute.

the conversation continued for a few seconds before someone interrupted it.

scott wrapped his arm around danny’s shoulder, squeezing the older boy into his side. scott was weirdly strong. then, stiles appeared at danny’s other shoulder. his cheeks were flush red, from both the game, and the pretty girl standing in front of him, who he was supposed to have sex with. he tried to seem nonchalant, cool. but he was sweating, from both of the same causes, again. y/n tried not to act like it was affecting her, the way his brown hair swooped down over his forehead due to the sweat. she tried to, also, not stare at his puffy lips as he spoke, swollen from chewing on them during the game. he was incredibly passionate about everything. especially teasing danny.

“aye, danny boy, good job out there tonight!” stiles ruffled danny’s hair.

the older boy knocked stiles’ shoulder with his own. “watch it, stilinksi.”

y/n, a pretty confident, witty person, interjected the conversation, “since when is it danny boy? i thought it was gay danny?”

stiles, who had been trying to play it cool, sucked both of his lips between his teeth. “oh, that’s funny, actually- you know, i- that’s crazy-“ his voice cracked. he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

y/n giggled, “i’m kidding. gay danny is hilarious.”

danny grinned between his two friends. “i think it’s rather hilarious, too.” he moved out from beneath stiles and scott’s arms. “don’t you, stiles? hey, let me know if you’re dtf?”

danny stood beside y/n, who hit him with her hand. scott, who was a little out of the loop, dropped his jaw. “oh, stiles,” he groaned, head falling back, “dude, please do not tell me you said that!”

he looked towards his best friend, who placed his hand on his hip, and glared at the turf. “you know…words are-“

“dude!” scott shoved stiles shoulders. “you’re a fucking idiot!”

stiles faltered on his feet, using his lacrosse stick to balance himself. “okay, i don’t want to hear it from you! please tell me the last charming thing you said to a girl?!”

y/n intruded again, “how about, hello, how are you? nice to meet you, my name is stiles?”

stiles finally met y/n’s eyes. she looked anticipatory, brows raised slightly, teeth over her bottom lip. he licked his own, dry lips, falling over his words. this never really happened. he always had something to say. and now, he was speechless.

their gaze didn’t falter for a few moments, as y/n waited for the boy to say something. he didnt, so she stuck out her hand, “hello, how are you? my names y/n, nice to meet you!”

stiles stared at her hand, her pretty hand, just hanging there in the space between them. scott hit him over the back of the head with his lacrosse stick. stiles tripped over his feet. he balanced himself out and finally shook her hand.

“nice to meet you,” he nodded. “i’m stiles.”

“is that short for anything?” y/n asked, stepping closer. danny and scott busied themselves to the side with jack, trying to give the two potential lovebirds a moment alone.

stiles moved a little closer, too, until there was only a foot or two between them. y/n was really good at maintaining eye contact, but that made stiles nervous. he glanced around her face, trying not to stare at her lips, or her nose, or her rounded cheeks.

“it’s short for Mieczyslaw,” stiles scratched the back of his head, embarrassed by his weird name.

“oh, no way! that’s my grandpas name!” y/n replied.

stiles perked up, “really? that’s- that’s cool.”

“it’s actually david,” y/n widened her eyes amusedly, “i thought it would be funny to say it was Mieczyslaw. but i don’t know how that’s funny. it’s just david. his names david.”

she laughed nervously. her gaze faltered from stiles. the corner of his lips quirked up. that was his kind of humor. he chuckled, somewhat dryly due to his nerves, and said, “it is funny. i liked it. it’s funny.”

“usually when someone has to say something’s funny, it’s not,” y/n crinkled her nose. her hands were crossed in front of her, fingers slick with nervous sweat. he was making her so nervous and shy. unusual.

stiles shrugged off the fact she had stated, “i don’t think so. i think it’s still funny.”

they shared a longer gaze, words absent from both of their minds. stiles rubbed his lips together and waited for his brain to formulate some kind of sentence. y/n smiled, slowly, okay with the silence.

“hey, guys,” danny intruded their moment, “we’re gonna go get changed, then head to my house, yeah? scott’s gonna invite allison. maybe lydia, but i doubt she’ll come.”

stiles and y/n looked to danny, sweet little smiles swallowing expressions. danny couldn’t help but grin. this had to be one of his best ideas, ever.

“okay, sounds good,” y/n nodded. she looked back to stiles, awaiting his answer.

he followed her lead, “yeah, yeah, awesome. we’ll meet you there?”

“well,” danny shook his head slightly, “i was gonna drive scott. and, then, jack, you know, plus if allison comes…my cars kinda full.”

“wha- scot-“ stiles looked towards his best friend, betrayed by scott’s willingness to ride with someone else. then, he met scott’s eyes, and understood the matchmaking game that was being played.

y/n glanced at stiles, who was nodding nervously. “yeah, okay. do you- would you wanna ride with me, y/n?”

“yeah,” she smiled, “i’ll ride with you.“

y/n, jack, and allison hung out outside the boys’ locker room while they showered and changed. y/n texted her mom to let her know she’d be getting home late. then, she shut her phone off and shoved it in her jeans pocket. allison met her eyes from the bench across the hallway.

“i feel like we’ve never hung out,” y/n smiled.

allison shrugged with a shy grin, “i don’t really hang out with many people. my family’s…weird.”

“it’s okay, mine, too,” y/n giggled. “we can trauma dump later, yeah?”

allison nodded, “i’d love that.”

“so, are you and scott together?” y/n wriggled her brows suggestively.

allison blushed, pulling her gaze to her hands in her lap. she fidgeted with her fingers. “uh, no, not anymore. we- uh, just, it’s complicated.”

“ah, i see,” y/n narrowed her eyes playfully.

allison looked back up to the girl and furrowed her brows, “what about you? i thought you were seeing sam? sam collins? i saw you guys together over the summer.”

y/n shifted in her seat, her throat tightening at the thought of sam collins. “yeah, we- were? i guess. i don’t know, it was a whole situation. i’ll tell you all about later when we do that trauma dumping.”

allison offered a supportive smile, “sounds like a deal.”

scott, stiles, and danny piled out of the locker room doors, backpacks and lacrosse bags slung over their shoulders. they barely made it through the frame.

danny rounded up his carload, quickly leaving y/n and stiles in the dust so they were forced to be alone. he had texted her before showering, ensuring she felt safe and comfortable with the idea they had entrapped her and stiles in. in response, she had said, “he’s CUTE!”

y/n stood from the bench, sighing slightly. “looks like we’re stuck together.”

stiles, who had gotten a pep talk from scott, was a little calmer. he waved his arm out in front of himself, “ah, can’t be the worst thing. lead the way.”

y/n grinned up at him. standing this close to him, in this small space, she noticed two things. one- he smelled really fucking good. and, two, he was so fucking tall.

y/n walked out in front of him. she crossed her arms in front of herself again, a nervous habit. once they walked out of the school, their steps fell into rhythm beside each other. stiles wanted to make conversation, and y/n did, too. but the anticipation, the hesitance, the nerves. it all took up too much space.

once they reached stiles’ blue jeep, he opened the door for her, which was slightly shocking. he tossed his bag in the back before joining her in the front. y/n found words as the car started and music playing, a little louder than normal, from the speakers. stiles turned it down, cursing and apologizing.

“what kind of music do you listen to?” y/n turned in her seat, so her knees were facing him. she placed her elbow on the arm rest, chin balanced atop her fist. stiles glanced at her, and his words stumbled.

she was pretty.

“oh, you know. your basic stuff. the 1975. backseat lovers. noah kahan. wallows,” stiles listed off a few.

“hm,” y/n replied. “alright, i can get behind that.”

stiles chuckled, “oh, yeah? what about you? you seem like a music snob.”

y/n scoffed, “absolutely not. i listen to everything and anything. even country. love taylor swift, phoebe bridgers, one direction, chappell roan.”

“i have heard of two of those artists,” stiles furrowed his brows. “literally who is chapel ro-han ?”

y/n rolled her eyes, “roan! here, give me your phone. i’ll play something by her.”

“no, wait, play some taylor,” stiles dug his phone out and handed it to y/n. “i respect swifties.”

“i feel like you’d be a swiftie,” y/n murmured as she scrolled through spotify. green flag, even though the 1975 was a blaring red one.

y/n, feeling slightly risky, played one of taylor’s more promiscuous songs- dress.

“i would be a swiftie, but i think my masculinity gets in the way,” stiles shrugged. he turned up the music a little bit. “i’ve never heard this one.”

“probably,” y/n giggled at his comment. “this is dress. it’s off the reputation album.”

“what’s your favorite album of hers?”

conversation came so naturally. y/n felt comfortable.

“oh, god, don’t ask me that,” y/n groaned. she rested stiles’ phone on her knee. “probably…reputation, to be honest. it’s some of her best work. but, lover is definitely second.”

“is that one a bunch of love songs, i take it?” stiles was really good at asking questions.

y/n shook her head, “it’s actually a bunch of heartbreak songs. people get confused because of the title. reputation has more love songs.”

“like this one?” stiles seemed to notice some of the lyrics.

y/n pursed her lips, “maybe. this one’s more of a fuck song than a love song.”

“ah, yes, there is a distinct difference.”

“oh, for sure.”

they shared a hearty laugh. stiles continued to ask questions, seemingly very interested in not only taylor swift, but y/n herself. she enjoyed his willingness to make conversation.

they made it to danny’s after two more songs. they pulled in right behind danny’s car, and watched the group pile out of his car. as stiles shut off the jeep, y/n reached for her door handle.

“wait-“ stiles jumped out of the car, and quickly rounded to her side. he opened the door, and offered her his hand.

y/n furrowed her brows. she’d seen a lot of boys do a lot to get laid. but, stiles was taking it to the extreme. stiles noticed her faltered look and motioned her with his outstretched hand.

“if we’re gonna fuck, i’m not gonna act like a dick. you deserve some basic human decency.”

literally bare fucking minimum- don’t worry, ladies, y/n is aware. but, god that melted her heart. his sweet brown eyes offered up the nicest smile.

she placed her hand in his and carefully stepped out of the jeep. it was a little higher off the ground than she was used to.

stiles shut the door behind her. he fell into step beside y/n as they walked into danny’s house. danny led the group to his basement, which was also his room. shockingly, it smelled a little bit like weed, and was dimly lit by led lights and lamps scattered across the room. his bed was against the farthest wall, and he had a common area surrounding a television right off the landing.

y/n plopped onto the first couch, and she patted the spot beside her for stiles. he followed suit, and yelped as he noticed how broken in the piece of furniture was. his shoulder squished into y/n’s, along with his hip, as he was tilted by the couch. she giggled at his clumsiness, steadying him with a hand on his knee.

stiles went red hot under her touch. it was warm, through the thin material of his sweatpants. and she didn’t take it away. no, y/n, confident in her advances, left her hand on his knee. stiles took that in stride, and swung his arm around the back of the couch, fingers inches away from her shoulders. she smelled sweet, like some fruity, beachy perfume.

scott and allison sat on the couch to their left, and jack found his usual spot on the oversized chair. danny was busying himself at the television console, flicking on netflix. he put on some random movie for background noise, and then proceeded to pass around his dab pen. jack took a couple hits, surprisingly, allison did as well. scott was shocked by the latter fact, and even more surprised when she told him she took edibles sometimes for her nerves.

stiles politely refused the weed, but y/n gratefully took a few hits. it loosened her shoulders almost immediately and made her flirtations a million times more present.

she curled her legs up beneath her on the couch, her knees landing in stiles lap. he shifted his legs beneath her, clearing his throat nervously. if someone had told him, this morning, that he’d be losing his virginity so soon- oh, god.

y/n started up a conversation that was separate from the groups. they started up a game of mario kart, while y/n was asking stiles about his favorite movies. it was hard to think with her warm breath fanning across his cheek, down his neck. and, then, she was toying with the string on his hoodie, staring up at him through her pretty lashes. her pupils were dilated from being high, and she was giggly.

stiles was beyond happy.

especially when she demanded she show him something in the other room.

“you said you like tabletop games, right? danny’s brother runs tournaments with his friends. cmon, i’ll show you!” y/n stood up, offering stiles her hand.

he didn’t hesitant to lace his fingers with hers. she drug him along behind her, quickly bee-lining for the other room in the basement. y/n flicked on a light switch, but all it really did was turn on more lamps and the string of leds across the ceiling. yes, stiles was incredibly interested by the shelves of books, knick-knacks, and the large gaming table in the center of the room.

but he didn’t really care about any of that.

because she was holding his hand, rambling about danny’s younger brother, and holding his hand. stiles just listened to her describe luke, how he was like a younger brother.

then, she noticed stiles was just staring at her. her words faltered and she trailed off. “what? am i boring you?”

“no, no, never,” stiles stepped closer, and squeezed her hand to encourage her. “i’m just…you’re really pretty. and you’re holding my hand. and i’m thinking about fucking stupid my text was, from earlier? i’m a dumb ass.”

“stiles,” y/n rolled her eyes, “you’re a really cute dumb ass. don’t worry about the text. to answer your question, though, yes.”

“yes, what?” stiles thought he knew what she meant, but he was unsure. he wanted to hear her say it.

“yes, i’m down to fuck you.”

oh, god. his knees went weak.

y/n grabbed his other hand, tugging him towards her slightly. something in her demeanor, her expression, changed. her look was darker, pointed, intentional. stiles found some courage and slid his hand up her wrist, up her forearm, over her bicep, and around the back of her neck. he brushed her hair away. as they moved closer, she leaned her head back to meet his eyes, and her head fell into his hand.

she grinned up at him, and the look made him chuckle dryly. “what?” she asked, insecurities drawing out despite her pointed confidence.

“just…so pretty,” stiles replied. using his other hand, stiles brushed the hair from her cheek, and cupped his palm around the curve of her face.

slowly, but surely, they kissed.

── jealous girl

paring stiles stilinski x fem!reader, word count 316, genre angst, ( masterlist )

jealousy. jealousy was the only thing that could explain how you felt right now in this moment.

the cheerleader uniform that you wore for tonight’s game seemed to be getting everyone else’s attention beside his, stiles.

he seemed to be too preoccupied with the new girl. she obviously had a big crush on him, but he was too clueless to notice.

you listened in on their conversation, as you separate with the rest of the cheerleaders to go to your locker.

he was leaned against his locker telling her some story. the same exact story he tells you about to help you go to sleep on restless nights. him and scott was practicing lacrosse and with stiles poor aim at the time he accidentally hit scott in his face leaving him with a black eye for a couple weeks.

she was laughing and touching his upper arm being a bit too comfortable with him for your liking. stiles was nervous after the touch on his arm his heartbeat picked up rapidly. you noticed that afterwards he continued to steal glances at you every five seconds.

poor girl was in denial believing she had a chance. once the bell rings signaling to go to class. you shut your locker and make your way through the crowd to meet him at his locker.

"baby, you ready?" you smiled, not even sparing a glance at the girl.

"yeah," his eyes lit up once he saw you. he shut his locker adjusting his backpack. "see you later." he waved at the girl, as he slipped his hand in yours intertwining your hands together walking off to first period.

it was sad really. the next day the girl was reported dead. apparently, she was attacked by some kind of animal that completely ripped her throat out and gutted her.

he was yours no one else in this world could have him.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2023

stiles and sandman!reader blurb

a/n: this was inspired by the song “at all costs” from wish and i was going to do a full length fic but i can’t quite get it right so right now here’s a blurb! testing the waters to see if it’s smth y’all would want <3

you weren’t supposed to dream.

in all of your years, you had never dreamt. no terrifying nightmares, no reliving moments of your past, no outlandish fantasies that fleeted from your brain the second you woke. not even when you were little. it had never been unusual to you, knowing that your family were dream guardians— or more commonly known in lore, sandmen.

you weren’t sure when it had started, when the images of a boy with dark hair and equally dark eyes had started to come to you. but the longer it went on the more you grew attached, to look forward to sleep and to seeing the serene face in your dreams. there was no name, no identifying factor other than his soft features that brought you comfort rather than disturbance.

you kept it a secret. not because it was particularly dangerous or untoward ( as far as you knew ), but rather because it felt good to have something uniquely your own. and maybe because you were afraid if you told the other members of your family, the dreams would stop. and selfishly, you couldn’t let him go.

stiles had never kept track of his dreams. most of the time they were weird and nonsensical and filled with allusions to his favorite nerdy media. and they never repeated. sure, some of them had the same premise or started the same way but there was always something different about them, something that made each one different. that was, until a few months ago when he had begun to dream of a mysterious girl. the first time he figured it was a product of his imagination, a fantasy he had created to combat his lack of a relationship. but then he dreamt of her again.

and again. and again. and again.

always the same over and over. the girl frozen in time, her eyes gentle and her smile kind. she never spoke but it seemed like she wanted to. of course, he had to be going crazy. how could a figure in a dream want anything? wanting was so completely and utterly human, something he knew very well after dreaming of her for months. he wanted to know her so much it bled into his waking hours, leaving him desperate for the time he’d close his eyes and see her again.

he didn’t tell anyone. with all of the nonsense he and his friends went through, this small pocket of peace that he found in his sleep was something he wanted to keep to himself ( and maybe he was afraid they’d make fun of him for making up a literal “dream girl” ).

for months they dreamt of each other. always watching, memorizing until they could recall the features of the other as well as they could their own. neither of them understood the true depth of their connection, nor that it was real and more tangible than any dream had a right to be.

after all, the saying is “dreams do come true”.

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary; stiles lets it slip that he hasn't had his first kiss yet and, as his friend, you're more than happy to remedy that.

warnings; no use of y/n, fluff, established friendship, some pretty intense kissing, one instance of reader being referred to as a girl

word count; +3.5k

a/n; no smut here, but i am currently planning a couple nsfw pieces to work on between bouts of writing my ongoing (long suffering) stiles fic.

please think about leaving a comment/reblogging if you enjoy! it would actually mean the world to me

“-And it was just.. So wet. Way, way too much spit, y’know? And there was entirely too much tongue on his part considering the fact that his hands, like, never even left his pockets-”

You’re not entirely sure how, nor at what point, the conversation devolved into a mostly one-sided and incredibly detailed analysis of Mark Hagan’s kissing technique, or lack thereof, but by the time your eyes fall to the boy sitting in the driver’s seat, you realize that you’ve been rambling for at least a full minute in the patchy darkness of the parked car.

“-And I’m not saying I wanted to be groped or anything but, I mean, it’s a little awkward when a guy just-”

You falter suddenly, when you notice the awkward slump in Stiles’ posture, and your words taper out without warning. He has one hand white-knuckled on the steering wheel and the other gripped tightly on the back of the seat where he’d turned to face you when he first asked how your date had gone the night before. And- God. That had been minutes ago, now.

“Sorry,” You apologize immediately with a grimace, “Was that, like, way too much information? Sorry.”

“No, I, uh,” He releases the steering wheel and shakes out his hand as if only just realizing how tight his grip had truly been. Your eyes are embarrassingly distracted by the long line of his fingers as he continues, “I guess I just didn’t realize how many things you could do wrong, y’know? I assumed it’d be more straight forward than that. You lean in, press your lips together, kiss, done. Right?”

You laugh softly at his rushed response, “I mean, I guess. I’d like to think there’s a little more skill that goes into it than that.”

“And, uh, Mark..” Stiles has been seemingly overwhelmed with reasons to dislike the other boy since you’d announced your upcoming date the week before, and he nearly spits the name with disdain when he says it now. “No skill, huh? Not quite, uh.. Not up to your standards?” He’s fiddling with the straw from his long-finished milkshake as he speaks, eyes downcast and determinedly focussed on his fingers, “Considering the overabundance of tongue, the lack of groping, and the, uh.. All-around wetness-?”

Another small huff of laugher escapes you as you drop your own empty cup into the greasy paper bag the diner had stuffed your to-go order into a half hour before, your socked feet returning to the Jeep’s dashboard only a moment later.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” You fight back a cringe at the mere memory of the drool that coated Mark’s chin when you’d finally decided you’d had enough and pulled away.

“What about you?”

His question catches you off guard and your brows furrow as you meet his gaze, “What about me?”

He twists and folds the straw of his drink with more vigor, nose crinkling before he elaborates, “What would you say your, uh.. Your skill level.. is?”

You pitch forward to grab one of the few remaining curly fries from the container perched by your feet on the dash, falling back into your seat and munching slowly as you genuinely ponder the question.

“I think I’m probably alright,” You shrug after a moment, “I mean, it’s hard to say, right? But I’ve never had any complaints. And considering Lydia is, like, the queen of complaining-”

You’re caught off guard by the entirely inhuman squawk of disbelief and surprise that escapes him. He’s scrambling in his seat with no real purpose before he slowly comes back to a standstill, now sitting just a few inches closer to the passenger side than he was before.

“Lydia? You.. You and Lydia have-?”

You shrug again as you wipe your greasy fingertips on the leg of your jeans, “Yeah, like, twice. Maybe three times?”

“Three-?”

“What about you?” You interrupt.

You tip your head against the backrest to look at him in the dim light of the parking lot as you await his response. The Jeep is barely getting hit with the residual light from the windows of the diner, but the bright neon sign on the roof of the building casts a pretty red hue over Stiles’ face. His mole-dotted skin is flushed with it, the only bits safe from the red-tinted glow are the shadows beneath his brows and the tiny divot in the tip of his nose that extends up from his cupid’s bow. You want to trace the darkness on his skin with the tip of your finger — with your lips.

You find yourself getting lost in just how gorgeous he is, not for the first time.

“Huh?” Stiles asks dumbly.

“Skill level,” You elaborate with a grin, lifting one foot from the dash to poke your toes into his knee, “What about you? Are the girls positively swooning? Melting under your touch? ‘Oh, Stiles. You’re the best kisser on this side of the Rockies-’”

Your teasing is silenced when his hand comes out to cover your mouth, long fingers trapping the words beneath your lips. Your knee is squished awkwardly between you, but he’s so warm you can feel the heat of his body seeping into your own, and the scent of his body wash fills your nose now rather than the lingering smell of grease from your shared dinner. You can hardly focus on his words as the smell of teakwood and pine invades your senses.

“No one in their right mind would ever say something like that after being kissed,” He tells you, face pinched in a cringe, “Like, not even something remotely along those lines. Not even in those weird old-timey romance movies you make me w-”

You grab ahold of his fingers to pull his palm from your lips with a small giggle, “Oh, c’mon, the suspense is killing me! Are you a good kisser or not?” Your mind is reeling a bit as you think about it. You can’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss Stiles, to feel his lips on your own, his hands on you. “I feel like you probably are. Just the right about of enthusiasm but you’re also a total perfectionist so it’d-”

“I don’t know!”

His exclamation is entirely too loud for the confined space of the car, his voice ricocheting sharply off the metal shell of the vehicle and causing you both to flinch a little. Stiles looks as if he wishes he could stuff the words back into his mouth and try again. You’re simply looking him over with a more critical eye, searching for the reason for his recent outburst as if it might be written plainly on his face, like you might find big emboldened letters of explanation etched across his skin.

“What’d’you mean you don’t know?” You scoff in amusement, “Y’know what? Fine-” You shuffle closer as an idea pops into your head — a brilliant, glorious, heaven-sent idea. His fingertips are still trapped within the palm of your hand and your knee slips over the top of his thigh as you slide closer and move into the center seat, “C’mere. I’ll give you review-”

Your face edges closer and closer to his own until your noses bump and the delicate touch seems to zap Stiles into alertness, sending him jolting back as if he’s been electrocuted.

The sourness that erupts in your belly at his reaction isn’t wholly unexpected, but a small flicker of shame joins it and burns like acid in your chest.

“Well, shit..” You murmur with an awkward chuckle.

It’s difficult to bite back the nagging feeling of embarrassment that swirls through your veins in response to being shot down by your best friend — your best friend that you’ve desperately been wanting to kiss since middle school.

You swallow harshly before continuing with a self-deprecating laugh, “I didn’t realize the thought of kissing me was quite so.. Horrifying. My bad.. I.. I’m sorry. You don’t- I didn’t think and I just- Sorry.” The last bit comes out quieter, the sound of it buried beneath the sudden tightness in your throat.

You find yourself avoiding his eyes, but that only means that your gaze is drawn to the smooth expanse of his neck — and there’s that glow from the diner’s neon sign again. His skin is cast in that red hue, smooth expanses of scarlet broken up by the speckles of dark moles and beauty marks scattered here, there, everywhere. You can almost make out his jumping pulse beneath the hollow of his throat, the dark crimson shadow twitching nearly imperceptibly with each too-quick beat of his heart.

They’re all spots that you’ve only dreamt of having your lips touch.

On rainy days when he shakes his hair out like a dog with the sole purpose of hearing the way you squeal in surprise, the drops of water finding their way down his temple and filling you with the urge to kiss it away.

When you slip into daydreams from the desk behind him during class, your eyes stuck on the exposed curve of his shoulder where his shirt collar is stretched just a little too loose, your lips tingling with the all-too vivid phantom feeling of his skin beneath them.

Trapped in his embrace, his height just enough that your face is smushed into his collarbones, nose crushed against him and pulling in the woodsy scent of his cologne, your mouth pressed limply to the soft cotton over his chest but aching with the desire to pucker and leave behind a gentle peck.

“No! No, it’s not that!” Stiles denies immediately. He’s already reaching out to drag you closer again, hands curling into your waist the moment you attempt to slip backwards into a bubble of shame in the passenger seat. “Kissing you would be the opposite of horrifying! It would be, like, a dream come true or- Or-”

Your eyebrows creep up your forehead at that, the barely there curve of a nervous smile pulling at the corners of your lips as his words seem to tumble out faster, growing increasingly difficult to understand as he rambles in a way that you’re all-too familiar with.

“-Because if I was going to kiss anyone, I’d want it to be you, but if I do kiss you and I’m horrible at it and you’re, like, repulsed-”

You’re still trying to piece things together despite the jumbled bits you seem to have missed. Your lips part in astonishment and his fingers tighten where they’ve begun to anxiously dig into your hips as he continues.

“-What if I’m worse than Mark? What if.. What if I’m so bad that you kiss me once and then you never, ever want to kiss me again because I was so unbelievably-”

“Stiles!”

You cut him off, already scooting closer until your left thigh is practically in his lap. His words cut off, a sharp inhale tearing past his lips as your hands find his shoulders, your thumb dragging over the freckled skin of his neck. You can feel his pulse jumping wildly against the pad of your finger as you finally voice your question.

“Are you telling me you’ve never kissed anyone before?” You ask the question as delicately as you can manage, but he still winces as an embarrassed flush colors his cheeks further.

“Not.. Not technically.” He admits quietly, big brown eyes still tinted beneath the crimson glow from outside the Jeep.

“Not technically?” You repeat slowly.

“I don’t know why I thought saying it like that would make it sound better,” He says weakly, “It didn’t. It was still just as mortifying. And so, so lame.”

Your heart flutters, cracks, and then ticks up in quick succession as your flooded with a wide array of conflicting emotions. You can’t quite believe what it is you’re hearing.

“You haven’t had your first kiss?” The words come out a bit more heartbroken than you intended.

Stiles looks horrified at the bluntness of your statement for a moment before he’s swallowing harshly, eyes dropping from your own for a fleeting second.

“No,” He says in a quiet voice, nearly a whisper as his eyes flick back up to yours, “But, um, if- If you’re still offering.. I mean-”

Your heart is positively hammering in your chest, so hard you worry he might be able to hear it, but then your thumb drags up and brushes over his own racing pulse again and his nerves seem to somehow calm yours. Your lean forward until the tip of your nose catches on the bridge of his again, eyes not leaving his as you move achingly slow, giving him time in case he decides to change his mind.

“You’re sure?” You ask softly, the whispered question little more than a breath of warm air against the bow of his upper lip.

“Uh huh.” He just manages the quiet sound of affirmation, a small nod of his head has your lips brushing lightly and the barely-there touch pulls a sharp breath of anticipation from him.

“Okay,” You say quietly, dragging one hand to the back of his neck so you can guide the angle of his head just a touch to one side.

His grip on your hips readjusts and tightens further, one of his clammy palms slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, and the warmth of skin on skin has you breathing out harshly in the sliver of space between your lips again. Your eyes flick slow between his, wide pools of scarlet-tinted whiskey watching you with rapt attention. Your mouth curves up with the hint of a smile, a soft breath of laughter falling into his parted lips as your fingers dig into the thick muscle of his neck.

“Close your eyes, weirdo.” You whisper fondly.

“Shit, fuck. Sorry, yeah. Eyes closed.” He rambles off quickly, eyes pinching shut immediately and hands squeezing your hips as if silently promising that he’s ready.

Endeared. You’re so fucking endeared your organs feel as if they’ve gone warm and syrupy beneath your skin.

Despite your admonishment of his eyes being open, you find yourself unable to pull your own away from watching every small tick in his features. Your hand on his shoulder tightens as you brush your nose across his and when the tight pinch of his eyes slackens and he takes a small nervous breath of anticipation, you finally press your lips to his.

It starts with just a small peck as your brain whites out for just a second. His lips are soft and chapped and plush against your own. You linger for a brief moment before you’re separating just enough to slot your mouths back together a little better.

His lower lip finds itself between yours and he gravitates toward you when you make like you’re about to draw back a second time, his mouth blindly searching for yours. He applies more pressure as he seems to become more sure of himself, one of his hands sliding to the base of your spine to drag you closer.

Impressed, you guide the angle of his head to tip just a hair further, your lips parting to exhale a hot breath into the gap between his own. A small sound rumbles from his chest as he tries to replicate the heat of your kiss on the next meeting. His lips fall open just enough that his breath mingles with your own and your brain goes a little heady with it, thighs tensing as blood rushes in your ears and heat pools in your gut.

You draw back and you’re forced to tangle your fingers in his hair to hold him in place when he tries to chase your mouth again. His eyes crack open to meet your own when he finds himself unable to catch you in another kiss and his pupils are blown a little wide, black overtaking brown until only a small ring of rich chocolate remains. You’re sure you don’t look much better, with the way our chest is threatening to heave with excitement, your fingers trembling where they’re gripping onto the muscle of his shoulder and woven into his hair.

“That was.. That was good.” You tell him after a moment, voice embarrassingly shaky, “What.. What’d you think?”

“Good.” He returns just as weak, “Great. That- Mhm. Awesome.”

His eyes are on your lips again and he looks downright hungry, but then, so are you.

“You’re a natural,” You praise breathlessly, eyes flicking between his rapidly as your fingers unconsciously tighten in his hair, “I’d never guess that was your first kiss – It was.. You learn fast.”

“We- You should probably show me more,” He insists, already leaning back in until his forehead finds your own, “That way I won’t end up like Mark, y’know? With pretty girls complaining to their friends about how wet and gross and bad it-”

“You think I’m pretty?”

He blinks at you as his lips curve up at the corners, the tip of his nose catching against yours to shoot sparks down your spine when he replies, “I think you’re beautiful.”

“Oh.” Is all you manage to get out as a smile tugs at your own lips.

“You want to maybe show me how to use tongue without, being completely repulsive and, like, drowning you or whatever?”

“Mhm,” You agree easily through a breathless laugh. You can’t quite help the quick press of your lips to his and you feel the relieved exhale that falls from his nose and fans out in a warm puff against your face. “Just for the record, though-” You feel the need to elaborate, “There is a time and a place for wet. When things are really hot and heavy and you’re in the throes of passion or whatever — a little too much tongue is great. It can be really, really hot. But- Like I said, time and place.”

The information leaves Stiles looking mildly overwhelmed and severely aroused, but he’s nodding dutifully, “Uh huh. Got it. Noted. I’ll remember that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

His mouth is claiming yours again before the word is even fully out, the sound of it lost in your lips and what remains is smothered by your gasp of surprise. You let him control the pace for a moment before remembering that you’re supposed to be the one guiding him.

You bring one hand up to his face, thumb catching his chin so you can guide his jaw to drop open a bit further as your tongue teases against the inside of his lip. His groan meets your ears, the sound of it sending a shockwave through your body that you’re still reeling from as he repeats your action with truly startling ease. The warm wetness of his tongue has you feeling hot all over, and when it catches against the tip of your own before retreating, you nearly whimper in protest at the loss.

He effortlessly settles into the pattern of give and take, hot brushes of tongues broken up by soft pecks against slick lips. His fingertips dig into your skin like he’s afraid you might slip away into nothing if he doesn’t hold you tight enough and you find your own fingers scraping at his scalp in response.

You’re both making soft little noises between the quiet smack of lips, the leather seats creaking every time your weight shifts in an attempt to get closer.

The lack of oxygen has your head a little fuzzy at the edges when you finally pull back and each of your exhales mingle warmly in the small sliver of space between your mouths as you both fight to catch your breath.

“I, um. I don’t think you have to worry about your kissing technique.” You tell him breathlessly just to break the silence, “You’re all good. A, uh, a great kisser. Eleven out of ten.”

“Cool. Cool. That’s great, I, um-” He coughs quietly, nervously, as he leans back to put a bit more space between you, “Would you maybe want to do it again sometime?”

He’s looking at you with pretty brown eyes blown wide and bleeding earnestness. The hand around your back has fallen to your upper thigh, the grip of it tightening as if punctuating certain words as he speaks. It’s entirely possible that your brain sort-circuits, because a moment of silence passes before he’s barreling on.

“-because I, for one, would really like to do that again sometime. Maybe.. Maybe after a date? Or during a date — that part doesn’t really matter. I just really like you and I have pretty much since forever and now that I’ve kissed you-”

“You like me?” Is all you manage past the heavy thumping of your heart in your chest, your ears — Shit, you’re pretty sure you can feel every pump of it in each trembling twitch of your fingers.

“So much that’s borderline embarrassing, yeah.” He admits, throat bobbing as he swallows nervously.

A breath whooshes past your lips, filled with relief and surprise and elation.

“I like you too.” You say after a beat too long, “Holy shit. Stiles, are you kidding me? I’ve liked you since the fifth grade.”

“Really?” He looks mildly shocked.

A giddy laugh escapes you as you drag him forward again to bring your lips back together. The kiss is chaste, but filled with so much emotion it makes your head swim a bit.

“Damn,” Stiles mutters suddenly, the frustrated curse puffing out against your cheek, “Does that mean we could’ve been doing this the whole time? Like, years of kissing-?”

His words cut off when your lips find his once more and he gives in easily, his train of thought thoroughly derailed.

“I guess we’ve got a lot of time to make up for then, Stilinski.. You up for the challenge?”

Stiles nods wildly and he’s pulling you back in before you can say anything else.

I was so disappointed with the aftermath of Stiles possession. Not only did it feel kinda rushed, it was just an “oh the bad guys gone and now Stiles is totally fine time to move on!” type of situation. Like no. I know they exorcized void, but give me something!! Please!!

Since I am a writer and deranged, I took the Whumpay prompt “Psychic Link” to create this short drabble about possible after affects from his possession, so yk

SCOTT MCCALL IS NOT AN ASSHOLE IN THIS!!! WE LOVE SCOTT!!

Tw: Mentions of losing time/slight dissociation

Stiles never felt the same after void.

He knew, logically, that he was gone. They’d banished him. But sometimes he wasn’t so sure.

Most of the time he felt normal, he went about his life like usual, helping out the pack where he could. Sometimes though.. sometimes he said things- did things, that he couldn’t control. School presentations ending in detention, instigating a fight at one of Lydia’s parties, snapping at Scott for no reason. He remembered it all, but it didn’t feel like him, rather it felt like he was a passenger in his own mind.

He tried not to worry, coming up with excuse after excuse when his friends asked if he was okay.

“I’m just tired, don’t worry about it.”

“I had a bad day- sorry for snapping.”

“I pulled an all nighter, I don’t think my brains working at its top capacity if you know what I mean.”

“Dammit, I forgot to take my meds.”

Was he telling the truth? Mostly, he was just distorting the actual affects of said actions. He didn’t want to worry his friends- void was supposed to be behind them all. Void needed to be in the past, or Stiles would start freaking out.

The dreams started pretty soon after the behavioural issues. Confusing and quick, flashes of things Stiles didn’t remember, yet seemed too real to be fake. Sometimes he dreamt that he was higher than life, watching the world from a birds perspective. He had dreams about flying, feeling the wind on his body like it he was actually there. These dreams made him wary, some part of him thought they could still be linked. With what they did to the Nogitsune… it was possible, but he still wasn’t convinced.

Things got concerning when he started losing time. It was never like it was before, losing hours or days, waking up in places he didn’t recognize. No, this was smaller, subtle.

The first time he was walking with Scott on their way to practice. He blinked, and suddenly he was a couple feet further than he had been. He brushed it off, thinking maybe he had just zoned out for a second. He convinced himself that he was fine. Void was gone.

It kept happening. He never lost more than a minute, but every time it happened he grew more and more concerned. Stiles knew he should tell someone, but how was he supposed to say it? Hey guys, I know we exorcised Void but I think he might still be here. Oh no, it’s not a big deal, I just black out every once in a while. Oh, also I can’t control what I say or do sometimes. No no, you don’t need to worry ‘cause it’s really not that bad, I’m just letting you know. Anyway, what’s up with you lately?

Yeah. No way.

He was going to deal with this by himself if it killed him.

..Okay, maybe not, because saying that never ended well for anyone. He’d deal with this until it got worse. Like, Void possessing him levels worse. Hopefully it would never get to that point, and Stiles could just move on with his life and forget about everything that happened with the dumb Nogitsune. Right?

Wrong.

Stiles had been at the wolf house, taking a day to hang out with everyone. Everyone wanted some time to just be teenagers (Derek not included). They brought snacks, watched movies, and caught up with the normal things in life. Someone mentioned Isaac and things got quiet for a second, the air tense with his recent departure. Shortly after that the chatter resumed, if a little less excited than it was before. Stiles had excused himself, heading to the kitchen to get some water. He blinked, and suddenly Scott was in front of him, shaking his shoulders and calling his name.

“-iles? Stiles! Dude! Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, Jesus Scott, you wanna stop screaming my ear off?” Stiles said, pushing himself out of Scott’s hold. The Alpha looked sheepish for a second before he asked quietly.

“You alright dude?”

Stiles shrugged, giving him an easy smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Scott didn’t look impressed with that answer, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You were just holding a knife.”

Stiles stopped, his smile dropping. Fuck him.. “Yeah well, it was a nice knife.” He said, trying desperately to deflect. He knew he should tell him- but come on, cut a guy some slack!

“Stiles.” Scott said, sternly. “What’s going on?”

He paused, fidgeting with his hands as he looked around the kitchen. He could see the knife he presumed he was holding set onto the counter, it was a chopping knife. Of course. He looked behind Scott and that’s when he noticed the rest of the pack. Derek was leaning against the wall, Lydia had her arms crossed, standing next to him. Kira was standing behind Lydia with a worried expression. Of course, their eyes bore into his. It felt like he was suffocating. They weren’t saying anything but he could feel the disappointment, the worry, the fear.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a second before he finally responded. “Look- maybe..“ he paused, sighing. “Okay, I know we got rid of Void, the ritual worked, right?”

He saw everyone’s uneasy expressions, Derek pushed off the wall with narrowed eyes, his mouth pressed into a tight line. Somehow Stiles felt like he was judging him the most.

“Well,” he continued, looking at the wall beside him. “I don’t think we got rid of all of him- I dunno, maybe there’s some after effects from getting possessed that no one told me about.”

The silence was deafening, he could feel everyone’s eyes on him like he was a frog laid out on a dissection table. He shifted on his feet, looking down at the floor. Scott was the first one to break the silence.

“Stiles.. why didn’t you tell us?” He sounded hurt, like someone had just told him that his dog was dead. Stiles shrugged, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on his pants.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal, I didn’t want to worry you.” He said, finally looking up. Lydia moved forward, a sad expression on her face. She held out her arms and pulled him into a hug, tucking her face into his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist. Even though the hug was unexpected, it was nice.

“Of course we’re going to worry, you’re our friend.”

He pretended that word didn’t hurt, turning his head into her hair just enough that it wasn’t weird. His hands tightened around her before he slowly let go, mourning the loss once she fully pulled away. She held her hands on the side of his face, giving him a look that spoke volumes.

“We handle this kind of stuff together, right? You should’ve told us. We could’ve figured this out so much sooner.” Her voice was kind but clearly upset, clouded with emotion Stiles couldn’t quite understand.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. Their eyes were still locked together but she sighed, pulling her hands away with a small smile. “Good. Next time I hope we don’t have to find you holding a giant knife.”

“Let’s hope there is no next time.” Derek piped up from the back. His arms were crossed over his chest, but his face was relaxed, giving Stiles a knowing look.

Scott clapped a hand onto his shoulder, giving it a firm shake. Stiles looked at him with a half smile, putting a hand over his. He was glad he finally told them, he felt.. better in a way, like he didn’t have to carry this burden on his own. He felt light, but he was tired and so, so drained.

“We’re going to deal with this together. Alright?” Scott said firmly. His voice was reassuring and left no room to argue. Stiles rolled his eyes but his smile got just a little bit brighter, giving the hand under his own a pat. He nodded at his best friend in understanding and relief, he really should’ve done this sooner.

“Together.”

You can also find this on Ao3 :P

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65344081

Hi,

First of all, I love your work! 😍

Aaaand can I ask for some (over)protective/ jealous Stiles, preferably at a party...maybe he sees someone flirting with y/n...or at school maybe and he gets touchy 🥺❤️

Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

Hey! I apologize for taking so long to answer, but life has been absolutely wild lately. But, thank you very much for the request and the love! I twisted it a little bit, making his paranoia the cause of his jealousy instead of someone else... I hope that's ok and I hope you like it! :)

Fiasco

Word count: 1,052

Saying that Stiles wasn't thrilled to be at some random freshman lacrosse kid's party on a Friday night instead of being snuggled up on the couch with his girlfriend and ignoring a lame movie to make out was an understatement. He didn't even know what the kid's name was and he didn't care. The pipsqueak barely made the team anyway, it was doubtful that he was any better than Stiles (which was kind of an ego boost). But alas, there he was, walking into an unfamiliar house behind his group of friends, tightly clutching his girlfriend's hand in hopes of relieving his grumpy mood.

Unfortunately for him, this method failed as his anchor was swept away to the kitchen with Malia and Kira. He sighed defeatedly as he plopped himself down on the couch next to some imbecile who was wearing a scarf, and no, surprisingly, it wasn't Isaac.

All he wanted to do was go home and lock himself in a room with the love of his life. She always made everything feel better because she always knew what to do to make that happen. It's like she had his brain in the palm of her hand, all to herself to read and understand completely and thoroughly - she knew him better than anyone, including himself. So yes, he wished that she could magically heal his grouchiness and clear his mind of all the shit that was going on in his life, preferably immediately.

However, when his scowling gaze met her figure in the living room again and he saw the look of enjoyment on her face, disbelief struck him. He wondered how in hell she could be having fun right now, with these losers, wannabes, and tryhards, thus dragging his mood to deeper depths of negativity.

He watched every movement she made: step, shift, glance, smile, laugh, sway, sip, turn, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera... But then his focus shifted to the people around his girlfriend. He narrowed his eyes as he observed drifting eyes, brushing hands, and hungry smirks.

His emotions swirled and bubbled inside him until they became a jealous and protective boil - one he could not contain.

Stiles stood up suddenly, charging towards his other half with a look of rage. He harshly grabbed the forearm of one of his adversaries and glowered at the boy as he scolded, "If you put your disgusting, perverted hand on her, I swear to God, I will chop your fucking hand off and shove it up your fucking-"

"Stiles!"

Like a bright ray of sunshine breaking through a wall of charcoal storm clouds, her voice broke through his haze of fury, retrieving his sanity. He looked at her and her disbelief, then blinked a few times and glanced around. That's when he realized he realized whose arm he was gripping: it was Ethan's, who looked like he was about to laugh in Stiles' face. He released Ethan and then saw Scott, Kira, Malia, Danny, Boyd, and Isaac, all staring right back at him.

Stiles' cheeks quickly darkened to a crimson and his whole body heated up, feeling incredibly stupid for losing his mind like that. He silently cursed himself, trying to wrap his head around what just happened.

His girlfriend, being the amazing woman she was, acted quickly when she saw Stiles' return to reality and the shame on his face. She took his hand and hastily led him outside, weaving through all the teenagers to reach the front door.

"What the hell is going on with you?" she asked worriedly, facing him on the driveway.

He stuttered, unable to ignore the lingering feeling of jealousy roaming through him, "I, well, I... I don't know, I just..." He let out a breath and looked down in an attempt to form a coherent sentence, looking up at her again after a short moment. "I don't want to be here. I want to be in my house with you, alone and away from everyone and everything."

"So, you flipped out instead of asking me to go home with you...?" she spoke, confused.

Stiles bit his lip, hesitating, before he continued, "No, I flipped out because I was jealous."

She smiled and raised her eyebrows with amusement. "You were jealous of Ethan? The guy who is dating Danny, another guy? The Ethan who is very gay and very uninterested in girls?"

"No!" he said, glaring at her, "I was jealous of how much fun you were having and how happy you looked..."

His girlfriend's smile softened and turned sympathetic.

"Well, and," he continued, "all the touching, and the looks, and the creepy smirks, and the rubbing, and the staring. I didn't like that either."

"What are you talking about?" She was suddenly filled with confusion again. "There was no touching, or rubbing, or creepiness, or staring."

Stiles' eyebrows furrowed as he replayed the earlier events in his head. He wasn't hallucinating, he knew what he saw. Or did he...?

"Stiles, seriously, what is going on with you? These are our friends. There's nothing to be jealous of," she said, getting his attention again.

"But I thought... Oh my God, I'm a mess." He ran his hands over his face. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but every little thing just pissed me off more and more, and then my grumpy mood turned into a wild rage, and then a whole fiasco. I'm a fiasco."

She softly smiled at him and cupped his face with her hands. "You are not a fiasco. But if you were in a bad mood, why didn't you just say so? We could've just stayed home and watched some lame movie instead."

Stiles' heart just about melted. He looked at her with all the love he had for her before pulling her closer by her hips and pressing his lips to hers.

"I'm sorry for imagining things and getting jealous. I'll definitely let you know about my bad mood before we go to another party," he said quietly, then gave her another peck.

"Thank you," her smile grew as she looked up at him, "but just so you know, I still love your imagination, even if it makes you do some questionable things."

He chuckled awkwardly as he spoke, "Yeah, I should probably go apologize to Ethan too..."

"Yep!"

Bodies, Bites, and Bitches

Part 1 of ? of Poly Teen Wolf Rewrite Series

Rating: Teen and Up

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader (platonic paring) Scott McCall x reader (platonic pairing)

Word Count: 8.7k

Summary: You and your best friends prepare for sophomore year only for corpses, animal bites, new abilities, and a chilling red head keep your gang from having a normal first day.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of a dead body, bi!stiles,

A/N: Stiles is the most bisexual character I’ve ever seen so he’s bi in this fic. Mhm. In regards to the pairings, at the moment they are all just friends. Tadaaaa. Here’s the ficcc. Also gif is actually mine 🤷. More notes at the end if you wanna read what I have to say. If not that’s chill.

The soft whirring of your washing machine rumbled through the basement, spilling into your room from the laundry room next door. You stretched your arms above your head, eyes tired. 

You took a glance at the bottom corner of your laptop: 2 AM and lowered your arms with a groan. Why did you always do this to yourself? Every year, without fail, you pushed all your summer assignments to the last day. You had months to do them! But no, you just couldn’t. You had to write a paper about these drinks or something. Some history thing. Taking AP World History was a fucking mistake. You liked history, sure, but not enough to write a paper in the summer. It made you want to bash your brains out. 

You just couldn’t make words come out of you. 

You blew a breath of air out of your mouth and rubbed your eyes. This was not going great. 

Your phone lit up, buzzing happily next to you, the sound resonating from your wooden desk. You snatched it up and couldn’t resist an eye roll upon seeing who was texting you.

------------------------

Mieczyslaw (2:02 AM): I WAS EAVESDROPPING AND SOME JOGGERS FOUND A BODY IN THE PRESERVE 

Mieczyslaw (2:02 AM): MEET ME AT SCOTTS 

Mieczyslaw (2:02 AM): WERE ALL GOING TO FIND IT 

------------------------

Leave it to Stiles to bother you and Scott at two in the morning to try to find a dead human body. You glanced at your pathetic excuse of a paper and sighed. 

------------------------

Y/N (2:03 AM): Be there in ten

------------------------

You hugged your brown hoodie to yourself as you trudged through the thick blanket of leaves surrounding Scott’s house. Cringing as they crunched loudly under you, you swore under your breath. You were going to kill Stiles. 

You glanced back at the street in front of Scott’s house and didn’t see his blue Jeep yet. Good, more time to scheme Stiles’ gruesome death. 

Maybe you could hit him with his car. Let his prized possession end him. You’re sure he would actually like that. Be rather touched by your consideration of his feelings. 

You snorted to yourself and watched in amusement as the blue Jeep itself swerved to park behind your car. Stiles clambered out of the driver’s seat in a hurry. He slammed the door rather loudly for two in the morning and you cringed and stole a glance up at the house. Hoping to God it didn’t wake up Ms. McCall. 

Stiles took a step towards you, but lurched backwards, his jacket pocket stuck in the door. You watched as he spun around to free himself, curses flying from him as he tugged on the handle. You raised an eyebrow and leaned back on the railing of Scott’s porch. 

Idiot. 

Why were you even friends with him? 

He bounded up to you with a grin. 

“Hi.” He breathed out, cheeks red from the cold and most likely his embarrassment. 

Oh right. He was endearing. Ever since you three were small you had a soft spot for Stiles. He was always so earnest. Brushing off embarrassment, always having something funny to say, being the smartest person in the room. He was great to be around. 

Except when he had stupid fucking ideas. 

Like this one. 

This was a stupid fucking idea. 

You narrowed your eyes at him and punched his arm before he could say anything else. 

“Ow!” He cried out, shying away from you as he gripped his bicep. 

“Shhh!” You hissed, waving your hands in the space between you. His offended expression turned sheepish as he looked up at Ms. McCall’s window. 

“Sorry.” Stiles said, laughing awkwardly. You rolled your eyes and moved to the beam on the right. Stiles’ eyes lit up as he rushed over. 

“We should go knock on Scott’s window.” You said with a grin. Stiles bounced on the balls of his feet and nodded. 

“Yes. Absolutely.” 

You looked up at the roof hanging over you and then at the railing. 

“Here, stand on the railing, climb up, and once you're up, lend me a hand.” You explained gesturing to the railing. Stiles nodded and did as you said. He was about to lean down to grab your hand when you both heard the door open. You looked at Stiles in fear, his expression mimicking that of a deer in headlights. 

“Hide!” You whispered at him and quickly hopped over the rail into the big bush. You dropped to the ground and stayed in a crouch, trying to keep hidden. 

You hoped to God it wasn’t Ms. McCall. You couldn’t stand the embarrassment. She already thought Scott had a crush on you, if she saw you outside her house at 2 AM, you’d never hear the end of it. 

You heard the deck creak and from your vantage point, you saw a red hoodie creep closer. Scott McCall. You breathed out slowly and moved to stand, but of course the third of your trio was an idiot and ruined the calm of the night by falling. 

Stiles fell from his spot on the roof, dangling upside down. His feet jammed under the trellis that Ms. McCall grew tomatoes on in the spring. You shrieked, jumping up, thinking he was about to fall on his face. Scott screamed, raising the bat, that he apparently had at the two of you. And lastly Stiles started yelling as the crooked jaw boy raised a baseball bat to his head. You three screamed for a couple seconds before realising there was no danger, and you were all being idiots. 

“Stiles! Y/N! What the hell are you doing?!” Scott cried, lowering his bat, and staring slack jawed at the upside-down boy and then looking down at you with disbelief. 

“You weren't answering your phone.” Stiles cried out gesturing to you like your presence there made him innocent. You stifled a smile and wiped at your forehead. These boys were going to age you.

“Why do you have a bat?” You asked, propping your elbow on the porch railing. You put your chin in your hand and batted your eyelashes up at Scott. 

He reddened and let his hand fall behind his back, as if he could hide the fact, he almost used Stiles as a piñata. 

“I thought you were a predator.” He mumbled to Stiles, spreading his arms wide. You grinned at his embarrassment. 

“A pre— I— wha—,” Stiles flailed. You were kind of amazed he was hanging so well. 

“Look. I know it's late, but you gotta hear this.” Stiles' arms stopped fighting gravity and hung straight down, nearly hitting you in the face. You glared up at him but decided to let him talk. You also wanted to know what the fuck was going on. 

“I saw my dad leave 20 minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even State Police.” He looked down at you and grinned manically. You raised your eyebrows. Shit. You didn’t know dead bodies got that much interest. 

They only would if the killer hadn’t been caught.

You froze and looked up at Stiles. He wasn’t expecting you three to waltz into the woods while a literal murderer was on the loose, was he?

You tried to stop your thoughts from racing. The body was probably old. Stiles had texted you that joggers had found it. No jogger would be out at two, it had to have been found earlier. It was probably fine. You chewed at your lip and looked back up at them. 

“For what?” Scott asked. 

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.” Stiles said, his breath visible in the late summer night. He used this dramatic ass reveal to finally get himself down. He unstuck his feet and fell into the bush beside you. 

“Hi.” He said grinning at you as he stuck the landing. You smiled. 

“Hi Stiles.”

“A dead body?” Scott cried looking down at the both of you. You snorted at this and rolled your eyes. Leave it to Scott to do a reality check. 

“No, a body of water.” Stiles deadpanned looking at you in exasperation. “Yes, dumbass, a dead body.” He hissed looking back up at Scott. He climbed over the railing and stood on the porch next to Scott. 

“Need help?” Stiles asked, looking at you. You shrugged and raised your hand. Scott grabbed your hand and hauled you up, probably eager to listen to the rest of the story. You picked some leaves off your shirt as you stood next to him. 

“Were they murdered?” You asked, trying to see if your killer theory held water. 

“Nobody knows yet.” Stiles said, putting his hands on his hips. “Just that it was a girl, probably in her 20s.”

“Hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for?” Scott asked annoyance on his face at how casually Stiles was speaking. You raised your eyebrows and looked at Stiles. That was a good fucking point you hadn’t thought about yet. 

Stiles couldn’t contain his grin. “That's the best part.” He paused for effect looking between you and Scott. “They only found half.” He sang grinning fully now.

You and Scott shared a look of disbelief. 

“We're going.” Stiles said with a smirk. You reached down and grabbed the bat in Scott’s arms. 

Scott nodded absently as you gripped it tighter, seeming to agree you should be the one to have it. 

“Well. Your car or mine?” You asked, twisting your grip on the bat. Stiles drummed on his thighs in excitement. 

“That’s the spirit! Obviously, mine.” He said and joyfully cantered to his Jeep. You fell in with Scott as you walked over. 

“You sure this is a good idea?” You whispered to him, trying to keep Stiles from overhearing. 

Scott shrugged. “Nope.”

You threw your head back in a laugh despite the slowly worsening atmosphere. This was almost positively a horrible idea. You felt like the kids from that movie, Stand by Me. You read The Body by Stephan King last summer, but you could only remember the actor’s names and not the characters. Maybe you could be River Phoenix. You had such a big crush on him when you were younger. You eyed Stiles as he happily opened his car, he was Corey Feldman for sure. 

Scott opened the back and got in before you even reached the car, knowing you got car sick and needed to have the passenger seat. You smiled to yourself as you slid in the familiar blue Jeep. 

As much of a pain these boys caused you, you really did love them. 

You sucked in a breath and turned to look at your friends. 

“Let’s go find a dead body.” 

---

Stiles pulled slowly up to the parking lot next to the Beacon Hills Preserve. The ominous ‘No Entry After Dark’ on the sign made you gulp. Might as well break that rule too. 

Before Stiles could turn off the car you unbuckled your seatbelt and jumped out, Scott’s baseball bat gripped tightly in your hand. You personally didn’t want to be in the car when Stiles would start either a rant or a speech about something or another. He talked when he was nervous. You toed at some rocks on the ground for a few moments before Scott stepped out of the car too. 

Stiles bounced over in a flash, standing with his back to the entrance and looking at both of you. 

“Shall we?” He hummed and walked backwards a few steps, looking at Scott, then at you with a smirk. You stuck your tongue out at him and gripped the bat even tighter. 

“Why don’t you lead the way?” You cooed making Stiles make a face at you. He spun around and started walking into the forest. 

“After you.” Scott mumbled quietly. You didn’t feel like teasing him and just nodded, following the familiar buzz cut deeper in the woods. 

---

“We're seriously doing this?” Scott asked as you three walked. You had been waking for maybe ten minutes. Stiles had pulled a flashlight from his pocket and wasn’t being subtle at shining it everywhere. 

“You two are always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.” Stiles called from in front of you. You scoffed and looked around the creepy forest, knowing there was a dead woman lying somewhere. 

“Yeah well, I meant like a carnival or something.  Not a half dead girl in the preserve.” You muttered kicking a stick. 

“And I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow.” Scott said from somewhere behind you. You smiled as Stiles looked over his shoulder to give you a look. 

“Right, cause being a benchwarmer requires finesse.” You teased. 

“No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line.” You had to admit Scott’s determination and idiocy was rather charming. 

“Hey, I like how you think, Scotty.” You said making your voice sweet. “Gotta believe it to be true. That whole manifesting idea.” 

“Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one.” Stiles added, giving you a sly smile over his shoulder.  

Scott laughed lightly at your teasing and you three walked for a few more moments. You twirled the bat lazily. 

“Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” Scott said, breaking the silence. You blinked in surprise; you didn’t think to ask that. 

“Huh!” Stiles said, stopping in his tracks. You and Scott caught up to him and you two looked at him in disbelief. “I didn't even think about that.” He confessed sheepishly. 

“Yikes.” You said. Scott snorted and looked around the dark woods suspiciously. “And, uh, what if whoever killed the body is still out here?” 

Stiles nodded with an impressed look, “Also something I didn't think about.”

“You’re such an idiot.” You said with your eyes narrowed. 

“It's…comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail.” Scott said with a shrug. You smiled at him and brushed some hair out of your face. 

“I know.” Stiles said with a triumphant smile. Stiles gestured with his head towards a small hill and started to walk up it. You gripped some roots as you trudged upwards. You heard the gasps of air behind you and felt a pang of worry at Scott. 

You slowed once you got to the top and watched as he fell into a sit against a tree, shaking his inhaler and taking a puff. 

“Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?” He gasped out to Stiles who was continuing onwards. 

You bit your lip but followed Stiles as he scrambled to lay on his stomach in the dry leaves. You hurried to lay next to him, and Scott fell in on your other side. 

You three stared at a line of men walking with their own flashlights and dogs. You grimaced and hastily shoved Stiles’ flashlight into the leaves. 

“Put that out! They’ll see it.” You hissed. He scrambled with it before clicking the off button. He hurried onto his feet and jogged away. 

“Wait, come on!” He called in a whisper yell as he ran. 

“Stiles!” Scott yelled, shaking his inhaler. You looked between them and moved to chase after Stiles. Scott had his inhaler; he could keep up. 

“Wait up!” Scott yelled at you. You slowed down but kept following Stiles in his frenzy to go…wherever it was that Stiles was going. 

“Stiles!” You yelled this time. You kept your eyes on the line of men moving your way. You rushed forward, following Stiles as he tried to find the end of their line and get to safety. You heard Scott trip behind you and him yell your name. 

“Y/N!” You almost rammed into Stiles as he stopped to look back for Scott. You did the same and took a couple steps towards where you heard his voice last. 

A dog barking, much louder this time, stopped you cold as you felt the warmth of a flashlight on you. Stiles fell to his back as the dog came closer and tried to attack him. You looked at the man holding him. 

“Stop!” You yelled trying to keep your friend safe. Stiles kept scrambling back. 

“Hold it right there! And you don’t move!” The cop yelled, keeping his flashlight on you and the dog on Stiles. You gulped and looked helplessly as the dog strained against the leash to try and get at Stiles. 

“Hang on, hang on.” Someone yelled. You turned and nearly started swearing once you saw who it was. 

Sheriff Stilinski. Stiles’ dad. 

“This little delinquent belongs to me.” He said looking down at Stiles with disappointment. He looked up at you and sighed. “I know that one too.” 

Stiles scrambled up and you gripped his sleeve. You gave him a once over to make sure he was alright, and you both turned to the Sherriff like you were children again and he caught you stealing cookies from Mrs. Stilinski’s cookie jar. 

“Dad, how are you doing?” Stiles asked, trying to appear casual. You let his sleeve go and shook your head at him. 

“So, do you, uh, listen in to all of my phone calls?” Mr. Stilinski asked, lips tight in disappointment. Stiles flailed for an answer. 

“No, heh. Not the boring ones.” He confessed with a grimace. Mr. Stilinski nodded softly and looked at you. 

“I see you dragged Y/N down with you as usual.” He looked around at the trees then. “Where’s the third of your trio?”

You wanted to speak up, but decided this was between Stiles and his dad, talking would only make things worse. 

“Who, Scott?” Stiles exclaimed with a fake laugh. “Sc - Scott's home. He said he wanted to get a good night's sleep for the first day back at school tomorrow.” He sighed and looked at you quickly in apology. You knew what he was about to say, and you were glad the Sheriff wasn’t looking at you. Your disgusted face would give away the lie. 

“It's just us. In the woods. Alone. Romantic time?” Stiles said, making it sound completely unbelievable as his voice cracked on the last word. You pursed your lips as Mr. Stilinski looked at you and then raised his flashlight to look into the woods. 

“Scott, you out there? Scott?” He yelled scanning through the trees for any sign of him. He seemed to be satisfied and looked back at you and Stiles with a sigh.  

“Well, young man, I'm gonna walk you back to your car.” Mr. Stilinski stepped forward and grabbed Stiles by the back of the neck, hauling him forward. You followed, baseball bat dragging sadly in the mud. 

“And you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy and how to treat someone on a date.” You covered your mouth with your hand to keep from laughing as you three walked back the way you had come. 

Stiles kept saying ‘ow’ every two seconds, probably hoping to annoy his dad into letting his neck go, but no dice. 

While Mr. Stilinski was distracted, you stole a lasting glance behind you, hoping Scott could see you. A skinny, asthmatic, sixteen-year-old, all alone in the woods with a plethora of police and half a dead body. What could go wrong? Would the police catch Scott? And if they didn't, how would he get home? 

Beacon Hills wasn’t the biggest town, and you weren’t very far into the ever-expanding preserve. But Scott might have to take a roundabout way through the woods to get to the road. Being seen by the police wouldn’t be a good thing. Especially if Mr. Stilinski wasn’t there. They might think he was a killer or something. 

That led you to another thought as you were walking back to Stiles’ car. Rain started to trickle down the canopy of leaves, leaving your hoodie damp and heavy. 

The cop seemed so ready to catch someone. Was so ready to let his dog attack Stiles. His face when the Sheriff had told him off was somehow disappointed. 

You crossed your arms and stepped into the parking lot next to Stiles’ Jeep. 

They haven't found whoever killed the woman. So the killer really was out there. Maybe even out here in the woods.

Mr. Stilinski let his hand drop and he gently shoved Stiles closer to his car. You stepped in next to him and faced the Sheriff together. 

He sighed and brought a hand to wipe some rain away from his eyes. 

“Stiles. I know you have an interest in these things, but there is a dead woman in the woods. Her family is in mourning, the entire department is on the lookout trying to give them some peace. This is real life, not an interesting movie or tv show.” Stiles ducked his head in embarrassment. You kicked some pebbles. 

“The woods at night is no place for teenagers. Especially when there is something dangerous going on. When I get calls about cases,” Mr. Stilinski made a pointed look at Stiles. “Do not follow me to them. For Pete's sake you could get hurt.”

Stiles opened his mouth to argue, but you elbowed him as inconspicuously as you could. He shut up.

“And bringing Y/N here. I don’t believe you guys were on a date, but if you were, really?” It was his turn to give you a look. One that read disappointment. “Thought you had more sense than to go canoodling in the woods with Stiles.”

“Hey!” Stiles interjected as you grinned at the Sheriff. 

“Yes sir.” You said trying not to laugh at the offended expression Stiles was making at you two. The Sheriff smiled and gave Stiles a pat on the shoulder. 

“We’ll talk more in the morning. Now get Y/N home. You two have school tomorrow.” And with that he gave you two one last look and headed back into the preserve. 

“C’mon Mieczyslaw.” You said making Stiles groan as you got into his car. 

“I’m so lucky you’re here. He would’ve talked my ear off about safety and privacy and being a sixteen-year-old.” Stiles huffed, grimacing. He turned the key into the ignition and you two pulled away from the woods and whatever was laying in it. 

You leaned your head onto the window and closed your eyes. Stiles was silent for once as he started the drive to your house. 

Your car wouldn’t be in the driveway. But as long as you left for school before your parents woke up it would be fine. Could have Stiles pick you up and give them a lie about wanting to ask your teacher a question. 

You grimaced as you thought of it. Early on the first day of school? Your parents better not start having expectations from you. 

Stiles drummed a pattern on the steering wheel with his thumbs and it was a comforting sound. 

You couldn’t help but notice Mr. Stilinski avoided saying anything about what killed the woman. Just that the woods were dangerous. Maybe he meant that there was either an animal or a murderer on the loose. You didn’t know of any animal that could rip a person apart at the waist though. 

Probably a person. 

People were vicious. 

“You think it was an anim-” 

“No.” You said cutting Stiles off. He looked over at you and stuck his tongue out. At least you were in agreement it was a person not an animal attack. 

“Should’ve left you in the woods. Scott wouldn’t treat me this way.” He sniffed as he pulled into your driveway. You smirked and unbuckled your seatbelt. 

“Mhm. Pick me up at 6 so my parents don’t see my car is missing.” Stiles groaned and leaned his head down on the steering wheel. You laughed and ran a hand over his buzzed hair. He swatted at your hand as you laughed some more. You got out of his Jeep and glared at the sky as rain pummeled you. 

“Bye Stiles.” You called as you walked up to your door. You turned to see him mocking you by mouthing the words with a miserable expression. You smiled as he drove away. 

Scott was dead for sure.

You pursed your lips and nodded. 

Yep. 

Dead. 

You and Stiles were also the worst friends in the history of friends. 

You pushed open your front door and looked around suspiciously for your parents. Thankfully they were asleep, and you trudged downstairs to your room. 

You glanced at your open laptop and groaned; eyes squeezed shut in pain. 

The fuckin essay. 

---

You groaned and hit the off button on your alarm clock. 5:40 AM flashed at you in angry red lighting. 

Fuckin joy. 

You were going to kill Stiles again for this. 

Every plan he had; made you suffer. You smiled to yourself as you rolled out of bed. You could probably blame everything on Stiles if you thought hard enough. 

You stumbled into your bathroom. 

Your broken finger in 4th grade was from a volleyball being thrown at you and it bending the wrong way. Who was next to you and could probably have gotten the ball? Stiles. You brushed your teeth as you cussed out baby Stiles in your mind. 

You got caught cheating on your 8th grade science test. Who was the idiot who couldn’t move his paper a little closer to you, so it didn’t look suspicious? Stiles. 

You changed your clothes quickly and quietly made your way upstairs. 

Everything was obviously Stiles’ fault. You and Scott were just poor accomplices. 

You were suddenly filled with memories of when you and Scott had shoved Stiles onto the ice-skating rink one year which resulted in him breaking an arm. Guilt swarmed in your mind and you sighed it away.

You grabbed your backpack and shrugged. Obviously, Stiles’ fault for not knowing how to skate. 

You tumbled outside and were relieved to see the Jeep sitting in your driveway. You hated waiting in the cold. You shoved your backpack at your feet and climbed into the car. 

“Morning.” You said with a yawn. Stiles covered his mouth as he yawned in response. 

“I really hate you.” He said and pulled out to drive to the school. 

You nodded. 

That was fair. 

“You get Scott’s text last night?” Stiles asked, turning onto the main road. You straightened your shirt and shook your head, looking over at him. 

He was wearing a blue shirt with a target on it, a gray hoodie, and a blazer of all things on top of it. He looked kind of stupid, but somehow kind of cool? 

Maybe cool wasn’t the right word. It matched him. It was a thrown together outfit that somehow coordinated to match his personality. Random pieces that shouldn’t fit together but do. Like the things he said never seemed to correlate, but they still made you and Scott laugh because of how true they were. 

Stiles pulled into a parking spot towards the back of the school, as a sophomore, your class wasn’t prioritized for parking spots. He dug out his phone and handed it to you.

------------------------

Scott (3:43 AM): I just got bit by some animal or something. I’m at home by the way 

Stiles (3:43 AM): Shit how bad is it? You text Y/N?

Scott (3:43 AM): I texted, but she didn’t answer 

Stiles (3:44 AM): I’m sorry man. You should get some sleep and like patch it up or something

Scott (3:45 AM): I’m goin to bed but I got a huge gauze on the bite 😬 

------------------------

You turned to Stiles a little sheepishly. You had chucked your phone on your bed and cranked out your stupid essay until around 4 AM. 

You didn’t want any more texts from either of your idiot friends. In retrospect that was really stupid as Scott could’ve tried texting you for help or something. But you were glad he was okay and got home. 

You raised your eyebrow and handed him back his phone. 

“A bite, hm?”

“Yeah, I know.” He said, turning to grab his backpack from the back seat. You jerked out of the way when his lacrosse stick almost whacked you in the face.

“He could’ve gotten mauled or something. We’re grounded from hanging with Scott for at least a week.” You said making Stiles whip around and shove you lightly into your door. 

“We’re grounded?!” He exclaimed jaw dropping, but you noticed the corners of his mouth were tilting upwards in a smile. 

“Yeah, grounded!” You replied, laughing and threw your door open. He laughed and followed you outside. 

“What, did your parents implement this?” Stiles mused nudging you. You made a face as you both started walking towards the entrance. 

“It’s me. Don’t want Scott to get dragged into more danger for at least a week.” You said crossing your arms. Stiles groaned. 

“Then we can’t go to the stupid restaurant you love.” Stiles said, gesturing wildly. It was your turn for your jaw to drop and you spun around to walk backwards, wanting to face Stiles instead of glance at him sideways. 

“Okay first off, Kelly’s isn’t stupid. Not my fault you and Scott decided to order the spicy chili fries. It says ‘spicy’ on it. You two should’ve known it would kill your stomach and give you  diarrhe-” Stiles cut you off by rushing forward and covering your mouth with his palm. You glared at him and licked his hand making him jerk away in disgust. 

“Don’t need to be yelling that for the whole school to hear.” Stiles said with an awkward laugh, wiping his hand on your shoulder. You rolled your eyes but let him do it. 

“Oh, look there’s Scotty!” You yelled suddenly, spotting your friend by the plants in front of the entrance. You widened your eyes at Stiles playfully and ran over, leaving him to chase after you. 

“Alright let’s see the damage.” You said bounding over to Scott. He sighed and lifted his shirt without another word. 

“Ooh!” Stiles cringed out as he came to stand next to you, looking at the large white bandage on Scott’s otherwise golden skin. 

“Yeah.” Scott said flatly. 

Stiles and you made to touch it and Scott jerked back with a Whoa! 

“It was too dark to see much, but I'm pretty sure it was a wolf.” He said, narrowing his eyes at you two. 

“A wolf bit you?” Stiles asked, looking at you. You furrowed your eyebrows. At least he wasn’t knifed by whoever killed the woman. Animal attack wasn’t so bad, even if it could never be a wolf. 

“Uh huh.” Scott said. 

You furrowed your eyebrows and shared a look with Stiles. “No. Wasn’t a wolf” 

“I heard a wolf howling.” 

“No, you didn't.” Stiles said, crossing his arms. Scott floundered and looked at you in disbelief. 

“What do you mean, no, I didn't? How do you know what I heard?” Scott asked annoyance bleeding into his voice. 

“California doesn't have wolves. There was this whole eradication thing ages ago. Did you not listen in middle school history, you nerd?” You asked tilting your head to look at Scott. Stiles nodded in agreement. 

“Really?” Scott asked in disbelief. 

“Yes, really.” Stiles said with a small laugh. “There are no wolves in California.”

You leaned your head on Scott’s shoulder then. Your forehead pressing onto him. He absentmindedly patted your head. 

“All right, well, if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not gonna believe me when I tell you I found the body.” Scott said triumphantly. You sighed and pushed off Scott as Stiles grabbed both of his shoulders, shaking him a little. 

“You— are you kidding me?”

“No, guys, I wish. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month.” Scott said with a shudder. You frowned and patted his arm sympathetically. 

“Oh, God, that is freakin' awesome. I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since,” Stiles looked around to think of something better than dead bodies and grinned, eyes catching something. “—Since the birth of Lydia Martin.”

The girl in question walked by, strawberry curls bouncing as she smiled with her friends. “Hey, Lydia— You look— Like you're gonna ignore me.” Stiles said with a grin fading. Scott snickered and you tried to hide your smile at Stiles making an ass out of himself. You grabbed your water from your backpack. 

“Stiles you get obsessed way too easily.” You said taking a sip of the water. He spun around, arms almost whacking into Scott as he looked at you. 

“I do not! It’s just Lydia Martin.” You gave him an unimpressed look and took another sip. 

“Remember Luke Freeman in fifth grade?” You said talking around your straw. Scott snorted into his hand at Stiles’ face. You started ticking names off your fingers. 

“Or Jake Amin? Or Olivia Diaz? Or-” 

Stiles cut you off by slapping your water bottle out of your hand. You watched it spill onto the ground, it lands on its side, water pooling from it. 

You looked up at Stiles with eyes narrowed, annoyed. Scott bent down with a wince and handed it back to you. 

“Okay! Let’s talk about something other than all the people I’ve had desperate crushes on. Don’t need to dwell on that right now.” Stiles exclaimed, putting a hand on your shoulder, and shoving you towards the school entrance. You made eye contact with Scott and cackled as you were shoved. 

“Scott, you're the cause of this, you know.” Stiles grumbled, hiking up his backpack. 

“Uh huh.”

“Draggin' me down to your nerd depths.” Stiles continued as you three stepped into the building. “Me and Y/N are nerds by association. We’ve been scarlet - nerded by you.”

You shook your head at Stiles with a smile on your face. 

“Oh hey, I’ll stay for your practice and maybe you drive me and Scott over to his house? I need my car.” You asked moving to walk towards your locker. Stiles nodded, eyes darting around the hallway. You and Scott exchanged unamused looks as Stiles’ eyes settled on Lydia Martin. 

He was a mess. 

“We’ll see you later Y/N.” Scott said, dragging Stiles towards their class. You smiled and turned the other direction to head towards your history class. It was always annoying when they had a class together and you didn’t. But you had two classes with Scott and two with Stiles, so it made up for it. One of the classes had them both in it. You were looking forward to that one: Chemistry. It was going to be a shit show for sure. 

You dropped your bag down next to a desk in the back and crossed your arms on the table and nestled into them. Maybe you could sleep through the misery and maybe your teacher would forget to ask for everyone to turn in their essays. 

“Alright class, put your summer essays into the basket over there.” Your older teacher said breezing into the room once the bell rang. 

Or not. 

You handed your paper to an acquaintance with a puppy dog look, and he rolled his eyes and walked over to the basket for you. 

“You’re pathetic Y/N.” Danny Mahealani said sitting back down in front of you. You stuck your tongue out at him and rested your head back into your arms. 

---

The bell rang and you sat up in a jolt. No one seemed to notice that you had fallen asleep, and you grabbed your bag and followed Danny out with a sheepish smile directed towards your teacher. 

“Pathetiiic.” Danny called as you headed to Scott’s locker. You flipped him off over your shoulder and smiled at Scott in greeting. You furrowed your eyebrows when you saw he was staring off across the hall. You turned to see what he was looking at. If he was going to stare so openly then you might as well.

A tall pretty girl with pale skin and a long blue scarf was talking to Lydia Martin. You blinked in surprise and turned to look back at Scott. 

Someone was smitten and it was only 9:00 in the morning. Stiles looked longingly at Lydia, and you rolled your eyes. 

Make that two people smitten. 

You clapped loudly and they both blinked in surprise to see you standing there. 

“Who’s she?” You asked, nodding behind you. 

Cierra, a girl you used to be partners with in science last year, pulled up next to Stiles. “She's in our English class. She’s new. Her name is Allison Argent.” 

You nodded at her, impressed. Stiles and Scott were idiots, they were too busy drooling to give you the juicy information. 

You settled in between Scott and Stiles and leaned against the lockers. 

“Can someone tell me how she’s here all of five minutes, and she's already hanging out with Lydia's clique?” Cierra asked, making you snort at Stiles' face. He looked both envious and way too knowledgeable on the workings of Lydia Martin. You crossed your arms, knowing he was about to say something either stupid or true. 

“Because she's hot. Beautiful people herd together.” 

You weren’t disappointed. Stupid, yet true. 

“Nuh uh there’s gotta be a reason.” Cierra said with furrowed brows. 

“Name one person in their group that isn’t hot. Just one. Name one.” Stiles said getting surprisingly worked up about this. You thought for a moment and snapped your fingers. 

“Danny isn’t the best looking.” You mainly said this because of him razzing you earlier. He was fine. Liking someone based on looks was stupid anyway. 

“That’s cause you aren’t a gay guy.” Stiles said, waving his hand at you in dismissal. You laughed and shifted to look at Scott. He was still staring at Allison and Lydia. You looked over. Also, Jackson Whittemore was there now. Yikes. 

You never understood what Lydia saw in him, but then again, she seemed rather shallow. 

But you didn’t really know either of them. Maybe Jackson was a nice guy? You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you thought that. Yeah, no. He was a total dick. 

The warning bell rang, and you sighed. You grabbed Scott’s sleeve and tugged him away from his creepy staring. 

“C’mon we got chemistry.” You said and pulled Stiles along for good measure. Cierra gave you a look that said, ‘why do you talk to these idiots?’ And rushed away to her next class. 

“Yo! Lay off the merchandise.” Stiles huffed pulling away from you. You rolled your eyes and shoved him into the Chemistry classroom.

Why did you hang out with them? 

---

School passed quickly with every class containing talks about the syllabus and talk about the body. At lunch Scott announced their English teacher had said a person was in custody. You nearly threw your sandwich at Stiles when he didn’t know who it was. He was supposed to be good at keeping tabs on criminal activity in Beacon Hills. He was an honest disappointment. 

The last bell rang, and you stumbled out of your ceramics class that you had to share with Lydia and Allison.

You eyed them as you walked behind them to the lacrosse field. 

Where to begin with Lydia Martin.

Stiles had a crush on her since the third grade. Well, he had a crush on a lot of people since then, but she was always the constant one. She was very beautiful, in a sophisticated way. You didn’t know what the Martin’s did, but it had to be something with a lot of money. That, or Lydia was amazing at buying knock off designer brands. If that was the case, then she went up several rungs on her likability ladder. 

Other than her clear sense of high-end fashion, there wasn’t much you knew about her. She had a lot of friends and was dating Jackson Whittemore who was the captain of the lacrosse team. But that was it? As long as Stiles had been trailing after her you never really saw a glimpse into her personality. Sure, you could make deductions based on what you say; entitled, rude, cunning, but you didn’t actually know her. 

You thought her entitled and rude because of how dismissive she acted towards Stiles. Then again if you were a hot popular girl and a gangly nerdy boy wouldn’t stop hitting on you, then yeah you would be dismissive too. Hell, if anyone wouldn’t stop hitting on you for years you would be uncomfortable. 

You bit you lip and decided fuck it.

“Hey, you’re Allison, right? The new girl?” You asked, stepping in line with the two other girls. Lydia blinked in surprise at you so clearly disregarding her authority. Allison turned to smile at you. 

“Yeah I am.” She said warmly. 

You stuck out your hand as you three stepped outside to walk towards the lacrosse field. 

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You said and she shook your hand with a laugh. Lydia eyed you carefully but didn’t say anything. 

“Are you staying to watch the practice?” Allison asked, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. You nodded with a sort of grimace on your face. She laughed and exchanged a look with Lydia. 

“What’s that face for?” Allison exclaimed. 

“I left my car at my friend's house and after practice we’re going to go get it. I love my friends, but watching practice is so boring.” You rambled. Allison nodded and Lydia narrowed her eyes slightly. 

“You’re Stiles Stilinski’s girlfriend.” Lydia stated with a blank look. 

You tripped over your shoe and almost face planted if it weren’t for Allison grabbing you with fast reflexives. You blinked in shock and stared at Lydia. 

“You know his name?!” You sputtered before realizing what she just said and shaking your head quickly. “Never mind. No, we're not dating. Ew!” You exclaimed. You weren’t usually this caught off guard. Out of the three of you, you were always the levelheaded calm one. 

Lydia pursed her lips and looked ahead at the field. Allison looked between you both with furrowed eyebrows. 

You always had people thinking you were dating either Scott or Stiles. It was something you were accustomed to denying. But to hear it out of Lydia Martins mouth threw you through a loop. You spotted Scott and Stiles walking from the locker rooms. 

“I’m going to sit over here. Was nice talking to you Allison.” You said wanting to get the actual fuck away from Lydia. You didn’t think she knew anyone outside of her circle of popular hot people. Allison nodded with a smile and Lydia just crossed her arms, looking bored. 

She was a lot more perceptive than you gave her credit for. Not only did she know Stiles’ name, but she knew you were close friends. That was very interesting. 

You peeled away from the other girls and walked towards the right side of the bleachers. You dropped your bag onto the bottom row. It was placed directly behind the bench, and you usually spent practices talking with Stiles and Scott. It wasn’t often that you went to the lacrosse practices though. They were, like you said, boring and it just felt awkward. Like you were expected to be a cheerleader and not just throw pebbles and watch them tink off your boy’s safety pads. 

You sighed and settled onto the metal bench, waiting for your friends to catch up to you. You had a lot to say to Stiles. 

You heard the metal thunk of footsteps on the small bleachers behind you. No doubt Lydia and Allison moving to the top row. That’s where Lydia usually sat whenever you had the displeasure of sitting at practices. 

“-My whole life is sitting on the sidelines. This season, I make first line.” You heard the tail end of Scott and Stiles conversation, and Scott dropped his bag next to the bench. Stiles sat down on the bench with a huff. Scott didn’t sit down though. You looked up to see him staring at someone, almost frozen. 

You looked over your shoulder and nearly rolled your eyes. 

Of course. You forgot he was smitten with Allison. 

“McCall!” Coach Finstock yelled, breaking your friend's trance. Scott spun around to look at him. 

You leaned forward and rested your chin on Stiles’ shoulder. He glanced back at you and brought a hand up to ruffle your hair. 

You were about to bring up the fact that Stiles’ crush since childhood thought you and him were dating when a loud whistle blew across the field. You glanced up to see who Coach Finstock was whistling at and furrowed your eyebrows when you saw he was glaring at you. 

“Y/L/N! What have I told you about distracting my players? Move up the bleachers!” He yelled pointing to the top row. You jerked away from Stiles quickly. 

Way to embarrass you in front of the team like that Coach. You gave him a half ass wave and he turned back to yelling at Scott. Scott looked over and gave you a shrug. 

You sat awkwardly near Lydia and refused to look at her. You looked down at the field and raised your eyebrows when Coach lightly hit Scott in the face. 

Fuckin Coach. 

Coach Bobby Finstock was kind of a menace. But he also reminded you of Stiles. 

You shifted in your seat as Scott stood at goal. 

“Who is that?” Allison asked and you glanced over and followed her eyeline. She was looking at Scott. You tried not to snort as you rested your chin in your palm, elbow propped on your knee. This was new. Someone was trying to get with Scott. You casually leaned closer to the girls to hear their conversation better. 

“Him?” Lydia asked. “I'm not sure who he is. Why?”

Now that was even more interesting. She knew Stiles and you but didn’t know Scott. That or she was lying. Or even more fun she didn’t want her new best friend getting involved with a “lesser then” like Scott. Not that he was anything less than a babe, but he was no Jackson Whittemore. 

“He's in my English class.” Allison said with a shake of her head. 

A whistle blew signaling to the team to start making attempts at the goal. You looked down at the field and almost shot up in your seat. Scott was grabbing his head like he was in pain. You looked down at Stiles, but he wasn’t turned to you. Coach didn’t look concerned. You glanced around. No one did. 

It was times like this that your friends tested your coddling skills. You never said it out loud, but every time Scott played, whether it be in practice or at games, you were extremely worried for him. 

You had taken to bringing extra water whenever he was playing. Having water to drink made him breathe a little easier and you were worried for him. You knew he loved lacrosse, but if it were up to you, he wouldn’t be playing at all. You were as reckless as both he and Stiles, but you had no problems going all mother hen whenever they did something to endanger themselves. 

Someone in the line took this moment to launch a ball at Scott. He was still clutching his head in pain, and it hit him square in the face. His helmet kept his nose from being broken, but the force of the impact made him fall backwards in goal. 

The team along with Coach started laughing and you glared harshly down at them. 

You hated almost everyone on the lacrosse team. 

Scott got back up and you cocked your head to the side. He looked focused, calm, ready. 

Another player made an attempt at goal, but Scott caught it easily. You grinned and clapped a few times. You heard Stiles yelling encouragement. 

Another player threw their ball and Scott caught it with a slight shift in his stance. 

Goal after goal he caught them all. 

“He seems like he's pretty good.” You heard Allison say. You grinned over at her. You didn’t know how this was happening, but he was on fire. 

“Oh, very good.” Lydia mused and you didn’t like that tone at all. You glanced over at her. She better not get any ideas. 

On the field, Jackson Whittemore cut to the front of the line and in a series of runs and jumps, he made the most extra shot on goal. You raised your eyebrows and watched with increasing nerves as Scott braced to catch it. 

He lunged to the side and caught it easily. 

You whooped, getting to your feet and start clapping loudly. On the bench Stiles bursts up with a happy yell. Lydia Martin also gets to her feet while clapping. You didn’t know if you should bring that up to Scott and Stiles later. 

“That is my friend!” Stiles yells and you laugh along with his joy. 

You notice Lydia looking down at Jackson with a look that says, ‘display of power makes me go brrrr’. You were probably exaggerating, but still. Lydia wasn’t cheering for her boyfriend; she was cheering for his embarrassment. You shook off your thoughts of Lydia and her further confusing mannerisms and cheered for your friend. 

Scott threw the ball at the assistant coach, and you laugh happily. He was getting cocky. That was fun. 

The rest of practice was a blur as Coach yanked Scott out of goal and made him run drills against Jackson. Stiles even left the bench a few times to participate. Jackson and Scott succeeded every single time. Stiles, not so much. 

It was close to 5 PM when Coach called the practice to a close. 

You stood up, stretching the uncomfortable metal bleachers off your bones. You made eye contact with Scott as he jogged to the locker room, and you smiled at him coyly. He rolled his eyes at you with a smile. 

Lydia stood up along with Alison and you couldn’t help but notice both of them were also watching Scott make his exit. 

Part of you wanted to be annoyed. Not at Allison, but at Lydia and even Stiles. Lydia only cared about Scott once she saw his ‘worth’ as a player. You thought that you understood parts of her, but this behavior made her seem even more shallow. Then there is the matter of Stiles liking her for no reason other than her looks. He’s just as shallow. You couldn’t be upset at her and then turn around and be okay with him. 

Why the hell were you thinking so hard over Lydia Martin? You usually barely even considered her, and this is three times today when you dedicated time to try and understand her. 

You shook your head to try and force your brain to stop being weird and you trotted down the metal bleachers. Enjoying how fast you could go down them if you stepped on the seats instead of the stairs. 

“See you later!” Allison called as she followed Lydia to the parking lot. Lydia gave you a glance and nodded slightly. 

What the fuck is with today and Lydia?

You sunk down on the grass and waited for Scott and Stiles to appear from the locker room. 

You ripped up grass as you waited and soon enough a shadow was standing over you. You glanced up and Scott was standing there with the biggest grin on his face. 

“What the fuck McCall!?” You shouted, standing then jumping at him. He grinned sheepishly and caught you to both of your surprise. Stiles jogged up and wasted no time getting in on the celebration. 

Scott released you and you grabbed his shoulders to shake them.  

“My best friend is a fucking legend!” You yelled laughing. Stiles ruffled Scott’s hair and brought both of you into a group hug, whooping as he did so. 

The adrenaline of watching Scott came flooding back to you as you jumped around with your best friends in the whole world. This school year was your year. Your time. Finally, something was going right.

So I was watching the first episode of Teen Wolf and I thought you know what would be fun? A rewrite. I know I’m not the first person to do this, @bilesbilinskix and @24stiles920 are the two that I’ve seen on tumblr. I looked for other rewrites after I had the idea and it would feel weird to not acknowledge the years of work they’ve done for this. So if you’re interested in reading a completed/farther along version of a rewrite go check both of them out.

This rewrite is going to be Stiles Stilinski x reader. I’m toying with the idea of making it Stiles x reader x Derek, but I haven’t decided yet. So for now it’s a slow burn that ends with just Stiles.

This fic is going to be very long. This first chapter is 8.7k words which is astonishing because compared to other episodes nothing much happens this episode and its only half. I’d also like to preface that the reader is the main character. So there are going to be many, many scenes that aren’t included in the show. It’s a rewrite with a new main character so if you’re wondering why it matters about readers' history essay that’s why. They’re the main character.

Also this rewrite is going to be rated mature and might teeter towards explicit. The show is rated PG-13, but I’m going to say teenagers aren’t usually suitable for a 13 year old audience.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this series and come to love it as much as I do. This is going to have the worlds slowest updates so like if you wanna check back in a year that is honestly for the best. I wrote this two years ago and I'm tired of waiting I'm just going to post it. :)