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stereksecretsanta · 3 years

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Merry Christmas, sivan325!

For @sivan325 <3

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*****

Kiss It Better

“Dammit.” Stiles caught himself just in time. Or at least he thought it was just in time.

“You’re bleeding.” Derek growled between gritted teeth.

Stiles stumbled upward. Honestly who thought it was necessary to have all these loose wires in a warehouse? More important question, why were all the very important werewolf meetings between packs taking place in said warehouse? Wouldn't it be more picturesque to do that in the forest, in the desert or anywhere more natural than a freaking warehouse on the outskirts of town? It was like they were setting a trap for the lowly humans forced to accompany them. Being the emissary of these dudes, that was risky in more ways than just one.

“Warehouse… were-house? That’s what it is. It all makes sense.” Stiles mumbled to himself trying to steady himself holding on to Derek’s shoulder. He was the closest upright object nearby that Stiles didn’t identify as an electric hazard. A guy had to have some self-protection instincts after all, especially in this line of work.

“What are you saying? You’re hurt. It’s blood loss. You’re rarely that nonsensical these days.” Derek grabbed him by the waist and pushed him to the car in one smooth motion.

“The blood loss? Wha-“ Stiles looked down at himself. “Right. I’m bleeding.”

He was confident in his statement because of all the red he could see on his shirt right about now. He was pretty sure he had been wearing a white shirt before, not a tie dye t shirt of red and brown. Derek was being overly dramatic, it took a lot more blood for someone to become nonsensical due to blood loss. If Stiles had any brains at the moment he would probably crack a joke or two about that.

It was only that he was tired, the whole day had been endless and exhausting. They had to prepare for the meeting, prepare for it going right, and for it going wrong and all that stress and all these nerves being on high alert for so long, that took a toll on someone.

“Is it deep?” Derek asked sharply, stirring the car onto the main road at a speed that would most definitely get them arrested if any cop was in the vicinity.

“I’ll survive.”

Stiles winced because of the car motion. Derek really wasn’t that great of a driver all things considered. Stiles should have taken the wheel because right now he felt closer to nausea than any pain caused by a stupid scratch.

Derek parked the car in one of these fast and furious reverse u turn kind of insane driving skills. Stiles rolled his eyes. Derek might have some telepathic ability that Stiles didn’t know about because this maneuver seemed only necessary to prove to Stiles that yes Derek was a good driver, or maybe to make him puke all over the floor and himself. One or the other, Derek could be cruel like that depending on the moon cycle.

They weren’t close to the full moon or anything astronomical so maybe it was just for the heck of it. Stiles couldn’t be sure, but now he was being carried (carried! As in his feet weren’t touching the ground kind of carried!) to the elevator and toward Derek’s loft.

Maybe it was actually the blood loss, or maybe it was the crash of all the adrenaline of an alpha meeting and the spell Stiles had to do in order to protect both of them when the other pack, now clearly on the list of enemy packs, made the slightest move in the wrong direction.

Stiles was good at this business, more than good, he was great, a big talent and all that. He had been told by several trusted sources that his magic was stronger than what they had ever seen. So yes, Stiles was good and he was confident and he could do this job well, he could be the one to protect Derek and make sure all the people he loved would be safe, that the town would be safe. He could do all these things. But he was also very much new at this, and he was also very much human. Still a twenty-something dude just barely out of college and barely out of magic school, if some training and spell-work with Deaton could be called that. It was very minimal, Stiles was mostly going on instinct and pure magic.

The fact that Derek had accepted, had even offered that Stiles take the place of emissary of the Hale pack had been wild in itself but not as wild as what seemed to be going on right now.

Derek had always been a little stressed. He was a stressed alpha, it was the least anyone could say about it. It was the least Stiles himself had said out loud about it. Stiles had very little filter when it came to what he wanted to say to Derek on any given subject.

“Dude, everything is fine, the bad guys left and all that. No need to get your panties in a knot.” Stiles said for the form. He couldn’t not say anything.

Derek huffed. “My panties are fine, thank you for your concern.”

“Are they?” Stiles chuckled, a little breathless. He thought he was hilarious. Going by the death glare Derek sent his way, he didn’t share the sentiment.

The thing was Stiles was too busy keeping one very important piece of information secret and that made all the other secrets non-keepable. One mind could only have that many things hidden and Stiles had chosen to keep the fact that he was very very head over heels in love with his alpha the best kept secret in all the lands. It had been years. Nobody suspected anything. Except maybe Erica but she was way too perspective of her own good.

It made sense to keep it secret. It made as much sense as it did because now Stiles’ place in the pack was more than just friendship or fear or whatever feelings were there at the beginning. Stiles was able to perform all the needed spells and not make a fool out of himself in front of guys wanting them dead. Stiles had a place in the pack and that place was being the best emissary he could be. That meant being invested but not too much, being a key part of this pack. And it meant knowing when the pack’s health was more important than the alpha’s life.

Would Derek trust him ever again if he knew that Stiles was in love with him? Maybe not. That was the whole problem. Stiles could take rejection, he could hear Derek tell him no and that would be so much simpler. But if Derek told him no, it wouldn’t be the end of this crush. Derek wouldn’t forget it. Stiles hadn’t mastered any amnesia spell so he wouldn’t be able to erase anything. The moment the cat was out of the bag, it would be too late to turn back around.

That was fucking scary. Stiles was a little bit of a coward deep down when it came to his heart.

They had built their trust and it had taken some time, because hell, Derek had been closed off at the beginning. With reasons. Stiles couldn’t really fault him for any of it, he hadn’t been great either, being a teenager and all that, he had made mistakes too. But now they were in the best place. The betas had warmed up to Stiles, even Boyd. That was saying something.

Stiles was part of this found-family of sorts and he didn’t want to mess it up.

He couldn’t throw all that progress just because he had all these butterflies when Derek smiled at him. It was a vicious circle because the more Stiles felt included, the more time he spent with Derek, the more he felt all these scary feelings spin out of control, he was just so hopeless and everything started to swell in his heart to the breaking point. Everything was bound to come crashing out of him at some point and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

What were the chances Derek reciprocated these feelings? Zero, close to zero, the void and the deepest black hole in the galaxy.

Derek was a very serious alpha. He was trying to rebuild the Hale pack reputation in the community. He was doing good, Stiles was very proud deep down. That took time. Years. Derek was committed to it and he hadn’t exactly let himself date anyone for… Stiles couldn’t even tell how long it had been.

“What are you mumbling about?” Derek rolled his eyes. “Hop on here.” He tapped his hand on the kitchen counter.

Stiles hadn’t even realized they were now in the loft, all the lights were on and the door was closed. Derek had brought him home.

“Huh?”

‘Hop on.” Derek gestured to the counter again. “Are you going to make me carry you again?”

“What?” Stiles grimaced.

Derek rolled his eyes with a long suffering sigh. He was in a mood apparently. “Hop. On.”

“Oh my God, alright. What do you need me on the counter for? Are you planning on eating a slice of Stiles for dinner? It’s the smell of fresh blood, isn’t it? All your animalistic predator instincts have woken up because I smell deliciously like a Stilinski snack. I have to admit, you’re not wrong because I did put on some muscles with all the training and look at me, I'm pretty delicious looking. Do you think I taste like chicken? Do I smell like chicken?”

Derek didn’t comment anything except for his eyebrows twitching.

“See, you totally agree with me! I smell like delicious chicken.” Stiles decided to take that as approval. Eyebrow language was always subjective and Stiles could turn it to his advantage if he wanted.

“Take off your shirt.” Derek ordered out of the blue.

“Wowow, what?” Stiles’ brain really had a hard time catching up with everything. It was all because of the blood loss. Surely.

Derek crouched down to rummage through the cabinet at Stiles’ feet before standing up with an old beaten metal box.

“You’re bleeding.” Derek’s eyes looked over Stiles’ chest and arm, almost begging Stiles to actually get on with the plan. But what plan, Stiles had no idea.

“I’m? Yeah.” Stiles looked down at himself again. Was he actually still bleeding?

By the time Stiles stopped frowning down at his shirt as if he could will his blood to stop coming out of him with the strength of his mind, Derek took a step closer and just… ripped the shirt off with his claws. He had flicked his claws out just for this.

Why exactly? Stiles’ slightly ripped and somewhat bloody shirt had been so offensive or something. Derek wasn’t new to the whole bloody shirt ordeal. He had had a great deal of bloody shirts since they met. What was wrong with bloody shirts now?

“O - okayyy…” Stiles was just so confused.

It was delirium. It was the only actual explanation he could find for whatever was going on right now.

“You’re bleeding.” Derek had a one track mind.

“It’s not that bad actually.” Stiles made a face, looking down at himself. He had a handful of punctures through his skin from having landed on some barbed wire. He was still oozing out blood on the side of his rib cage but none of the cuts looked that deep, and none of them were that large either.

Painful, yes. Life threatening, not really. It was all good. Stiles wasn’t fainting at the sight of blood anymore. He had grown out of that.

Stiles startled when he was hit by some icy cold spray coming out of nowhere.

He looked up to see Derek’s gaze laser focused on the wounds.

“What the fuck?” Stiles squawked.

Derek was holding an antiseptic spray like he would a gun and he was ready to shoot. He had actually shot, Stiles realized, the cold liquid hitting his skin made a lot more sense now.

“We don’t want any infection.” Derek deadpanned, as if that explained everything.

“Duuuude...” Stiles shook his head in disbelief.

So that was what Derek had been doing all this time? Trying to clean Stiles’ wounds? That was strangely sweet but also very weird and awkward. So so awkward.

“Clean it first?” Stiles tried to say. “No. I mean. I can clean it myself. I can absolutely clean it myself.”

He was not inviting Derek to gently caress his chest with a damp cloth because no, Stiles wasn’t doing that. Oh but he would absolutely love that because he was a masochist and any amount of Derek he could get he would very much like to get and if Derek was set on a quest to take care of Stiles then Stiles would be an idiot to refuse. It might be a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Though Stiles was a little bit of a klutz, it was not the first and most probably won’t be the last time Stiles found himself bleeding or bruising. Derek taking care of him was the new addition to this.

Of course there had been the occasional draining of his pain when things got bad or the rushing him to the hospital even when things were definitely not as bad as they looked. Obviously there had been times, numerous times, when Derek took care of him.

This was different. They were just the two of them and they were in Derek’s loft and… yeah.

Now Derek was coming back from the sink with a clean cloth and started to gently wipe the blood off the side of Stiles’ chest.

“That way?” Derek asked in a whisper. He looked uncertain, like this was all uncharted territory to him.

Stiles swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

Derek looked up at him from under his eyelashes. Stiles’ heart was doing some loop-the-loop inside his chest. What was going on?

Stiles wasn’t meant to handle Derek looking at him like that. He wasn’t equipped for all these feelings. He was suffering from blood loss and a great deal of pining for this man who was the love of his life. More than that if such a thing even existed. Stiles couldn’t go through something like that and come back on the other side without being scarred for life. And all these scars would be metaphorical and all of them would be on his tiny human heart. Nothing wouldn’t be because of the bleeding and punctured skin.

“I - I can do it, you know.” Stiles made a move to reach for the cloth in Derek’s hand.

“Don’t.” Derek took his hand away. “Let me.”

Stiles raised his hands in surrender. “Okay okay. Our beloved alpha is going through something and I’m not going to get in the middle of it. I mean I literally am in the middle of it. Or the subject of it if we want to be specific. But I’m not going to come in between you and whatever it is you feel you need to do. I’m suffering enough as it is.”

Derek reached for a clean towel to pat the cuts dry. Stiles could only stare at him. The wounds really weren’t that bad, he could have just gone home. He wasn’t bleeding to death or anything.

Derek carefully brought the metal box closer. It was, as expected, some kind of first aid kit. It looked old, obviously very rarely used in a pack of werewolves with super healing abilities. It was a wonder why Derek even had that in his loft to begin with.

Derek frowned after a while. “Suffering? Does it hurt a lot?”

He stepped closer to Stiles with a big handful of gauze and sterile dressing. A lot of dressing. Enough to wrap Stiles’ whole chest with it. So much… Too much. Jesus.

Derek checked the wounds one by one and inelegantly plopped the gauze on Stiles’ chest. He grimaced before revising himself and reaching his hand again to put some pressure there. It wasn’t graceful at all, it was absolutely ridiculous.

“Noooo.” Stiles pushed him away and crossed his arms over his chest before he could come any closer again. “Drop the gauze, dude. Drop. the. gauze. I’m not letting you change me into a mummy. It’s not Halloween and gauze just isn’t a trendy fashion accessory. I don’t need all of this. At all.” Stiles gestured to Derek holding a ball of gauze as big as a football. “Look, it stopped bleeding. Okay, almost stopped. But I swear, I only need a few band-aids and it’s going to be enough.”

Derek frowned but let the gauze fall to the ground. He went to the metal box again and came back with a pack of what looked to be simple band-aids.

“That’s more like it.” Stiles encouraged him. “Give it all you’ve got, buddy… That’s just a saying. Don’t go overboard, please.”

Derek only groaned in response. Stiles figured he had gotten the point.

He stretched a little to give Derek more access. The laser focused gaze was back on Derek’s face as he stuck one, two, three band-aids on Stiles’ skin. Fingertips brushing his cold skin, sending shivers all over.

“Please stop looking so constipated. What is it? It’s not that I don’t enjoy all the attention but come on, tell me, what the hell is going on?” Stiles couldn’t take it anymore. The whole thing was so bizarre.

“My human is hurt and I need to make sure-” Derek started before stopping mid sentence frowning and shaking his head as if he didn’t make any sense even to himself.

“Dude, what.” Stiles was so confused. “ My human?”

Since when was Stiles anyone’s human? Human, yes very much so, the human token, yes but when had anyone other than his dad and maybe Scott have any sort of possessive feelings toward him? He heard it before ‘my son’ ‘my best friend’ but ‘my human’? Well that was a first and it could mean so many things.

“What do you mean ‘my’ human?”

“Nothing.” Derek shut off almost immediately.

“Something!” Stiles hopped off the counter trying to make himself look tall.

It failed. He winced at the stabbing pain in his side. He had almost forgotten he was actually pretty banged up. That was how infuriating Derek could be when he didn’t want to use words.

“Stiles.” Derek’ warm hands were here to steady him, so soft and gentle on his skin. Stiles wanted to be mad about it but he liked it all too much.

“Ugh. Don’t think I’m forgetting about all of this just because of some tiny scratches, okay? I’m not letting this go.”

“You never let anything go.” Derek’s face was annoyed, but his eyes were still staring at Stiles.

“I’m fine.” Stiles affirmed because apparently Derek needed to hear it. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.” Derek said for the hundredth time this evening.

“It’s not the first time.”

A deep pained look ghosted over Derek’s face.

Stiles sighed. That hurt expression wasn’t going to cut it. They weren’t these people anymore. Derek was a good alpha, he was the best alpha. He cared so much about his pack, about the town. He wasn’t the guy who carried all the guilt in the world on his shoulders anymore. Derek knew better than that.

“Your human?” Stiles brought them back to the most important topic of all.

He smirked at Derek’s even more pained expression. It wasn’t the same pain. It was the ‘Stiles is insufferable’ pained look. This was a look Stiles could deal with. He quite liked that look if he was completely honest. He would gladly annoy Derek for the rest of their days, that was in his lifelong contract.

“Since when am I your human? Tell me more. I’d like to know!”

“It came out wrong,” Derek deflated, looking anywhere but at Stiles. “I meant-“

Stiles snorted. Derek was saying words that meant one thing but his hands were still holding Stiles close, closer than strictly necessary. Still holding Stiles who was shirtless, the shreds of his bloody shirt in a pile on the floor, and still holding Stiles who wasn’t exactly bleeding anymore and just a tiny bit sore after tripping and losing his fight with scraps of metal in an old dusty warehouse. Stiles was definitely losing his fight against these hands too.

He was slowly but surely letting these warm hands affect him, he was letting himself want more of these hands and more of everything. And if Derek wanted Stiles to be his, Stiles was ready to be his on so many more levels than just a different species. He was ready to be more than what they had been for years. Friends, pack and maybe something else.

Stiles moved a small step closer. “Well, if we’re standing here in this kitchen tonight, claiming each other, I’d like to formally tell this assembly of silverware that you… You’re my… alpha.”

Derek’s eyes flashed red at the word.

Stiles smirked again. “That’s right. Thanks for the confirmation.”

“I just want you safe.” Derek glanced at Stiles’ band-aid covered chest again.

“Just give me a couple of days I’ll be as good as new and you’ll stop looking like someone kicked your puppy. Oh my god. Am I your puppy? Do you want to lick my wound better because your saliva has magical properties? Because mine doesn’t, I already asked. You said human but that can mean a lot of things. Please tell me I’m not a puppy. Do you see me as a useless human kid?”

“No.” Derek’s face lost every ounce of concern all at once. Stiles’ stupid rambling had managed to convince him he wasn’t dying.

“Well, good.” Stiles said. “That would be the opposite of sexy.”

Okay so Stiles was not a puppy and not a kid. He had lost his investigation edge. He had let himself become soft or something.

“So you care about me.” Stiles ventured.

It wasn’t a question. Stiles knew Derek cared. Derek cared about everyone. The statement seemed innocent enough. Derek didn’t have to take it as an euphemism for anything other than caring for his pack members, his brand new emissary. He didn’t have to read into Stiles’ jerky heartbeat. Or smell the distinct scent of hope mixed with nerves.

He didn’t have to. Oh but Stiles wished he would.

“... Yes.” Derek breathed out. “I care.”

“Okay.” Stiles’ mind blanked.

Okay. Cool. Play it cool. This is okay. Cool. His heart was now skyrocketing as if it was trying to break his ribs and make its way out. But everything was cool.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Stiles nodded. What, did Derek honestly think Stiles wasn’t going to be okay with this? “I’m gonna kiss you now. If I got all of this wrong, I’m going to blame it on the delirium of blood loss. You even told me I was nonsensical earlier, don’t think I didn’t hear, I heard. I hear everything. I always hear everything. And right now I’m hearing something and you know how actions have reactions well my reaction is that i’m going to kiss you. You can totally stop me or push me away if you don’t want that. I mean, this is just a heads-up because it’s good to give people a warning sometimes and not just spray them with antiseptic or, you know, love and affection without any warning.”

Derek’s face twitched in what seemed like surprise for a second.

“Yeah.” Stiles repeated. “Because if you care about me that way, I do too. Care about you. And you have to know you are wonderful and kind and extremely extremely beautiful. Handsome yes and attractive and hot but that doesn’t cover it. You’re beautiful and amazing and I…” stiles licked his lips. “I’m gonna shut up now and I’m gonna kiss you. Kiss the hell out of you until my legs give out. I’m gonna-“

It was Derek who kissed him in the end, crowding into Stiles’ space and capturing his mouth mid sentence.

Stiles was still trying to speak until Derek slipped his tongue inside his mouth to effectively shut him up. That was when Stiles’ brain caught up with the action.

He grabbed a fistful of Derek’s shirt to tug him even closer if that was possible.

Derek’s hand made its way down to stop just where Stiles’ band aids were, ghosting over them, not touching but still there. Protecting.

That kiss. That kiss was enough to heal some hole inside of Stiles that band-aids had never been able to fix.

A moan escaped Stiles before Derek caught his lips in another kiss because no one kiss wasn’t enough. Kisses were simply fantastic. Derek’s mouth was made to be kissed indefinitely, forever, over and over again. And Stiles’ soft skin was made to brush against Derek’s stubble so much that it would become red with it.

They finally let go of each other. A tragedy. Stiles had to breathe a little. He needed to think, restart his brain after the sweetest court-circuit of sensations.

He looked down in a sigh. And frowned at the bright colored spots on his ribs. What…

“Are these superheroes band-aids?” Stiles snorted.

“Uh. Yeah.” Derek confessed.

Stiles stared at him for a moment, that man was absolutely ridiculous. How long had these band aids been there waiting in that old box? How long had Derek been feeling this way about Stiles that he had bought and kept these stupid superheroes band-aids in his stupid kitchen?

Stiles shook his head, examining Derek’s expression carefully.

“You’re insane.” He whispered, praying that his cheeks weren't starting to flush red.

It was so far from an accusation. He was in awe. Stiles bit his lip to keep from doing something but then remembered that he could, he was allowed to kiss Derek now. He already had in fact kissed Derek. What in the world.

He just went for it, leaning in and pressing a light kiss to his lips.

Derek didn’t even correct him on his insanity. Maybe he agreed, they were both a little bit insane.

They kissed, and kissed. Stiles' jaw started aching but he wouldn’t stop kissing Derek, not when Derek’s fingers were now in his hair, not when a hand was on his hip steadying him upright.

His lips stung, swollen and almost raw from stubble and a few very deliberate teasing teeth.

“Fuck.” Derek breathed out. “They’re not going to let me live this down. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Who?”

“The betas…” Derek ran a hand over his eyes.

Oh no. So they all knew. It hasn’t been just Erica. They had all seen Stiles pining his ass off for Derek for years. This was awful, so terrible. Stiles was going to die from all the teasing. No, wait.

Derek let out a long suffering sight. “I kept telling them no, that I wasn’t… but they were relentless. I kept telling them to shut up.”

Stiles felt his lips curl up in the biggest idiotic grin ever. The betas were going to tease Derek. Not him. Let’s face it, they were going to tease Stiles most definitely too but also Derek! Derek had been pining over him for God knew how long.

“Dude,” Stiles was still grinning. Barbed wire excluded, this might be the best fucking day ever. “Telling these idiots to shut up... that never works you should know by now.”

Derek shrugged. He looked just a little too proud for someone complaining about his family not listening to a word he said.

“So we’re doing this?” Stiles dared ask.

“Yeah, we are.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll give you my heart but on the condition you do study the basics of the human healing process. Maybe even CPR because all of this,” he gestured to all of Derek. “that might cause me one or two heart-attacks.”

Derek rolled his eyes. That idiot couldn't even keep the fond off his face.

Stiles had to kiss him again. He just had to.

#sivan325 #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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justauthoring · 5 years

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No Reason To (20/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

It has come to my attention that by adding links to my posts, it stops that post from being seen in the tags tagged. So, sadly, I will no longer be able to link previous parts of NRT on new chapters. BUT all part can be found easily on my “No Reason To Series MasterList!” found in my bio.

A/N: ta-da!! another week, another day early :) i am hella freaking proud of this chapter, so please, please let me know what you thought of it!! i literally worked so hard on this week’s chapter, my god, lol.

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 03x15 and 03x16

Pulling off your helmet, you hand it over to Scott, thoughtlessly turning your head in search of Stiles. Instead of Stiles though, your eyes widen when you find the twins in his stead.

“Hey, uh, Scott?” Calling out for your brother’s attention, you repeatedly tap on his arm, causing his eyes to fall on you narrowed as the both of you step off his motorcycle. When you meet his eyes, instead of saying anything, you wordlessly point to your left in the direction of the twins, Scott’s expression mimicking your own soon after.

The twins meet your eyes then, a small smirk falling on their lips as the two of them head over to where you and your brother are. While the twins may not have been as bad as the rest of the alpha pack, you still didn’t trust them, as opposed to your brother who you knew was warming up to them, even if just slightly. So, crossing your arms over your chest, you keep your gaze narrowed as Scott speaks up. “You’re back at school?”

“No,” Aiden answers with a shake of his head.

“Just to talk,” Ethan adds, nodding at your brother.

“Oh,” you turn your head over your shoulder at the sound of Stiles, meeting his eyes briefly as he falls next to you. Eyes squinting slightly because of the sun, Stiles rocks on the heels of his feet as he slips into the conversation. You can’t help but think in that moment he looks quite cute. “That’s kind of a change of pace for you guys. Usually, you’re just hurting, maiming, and killing.”

Despite Stiles’ clear insult, the twins keep their gazes on your brother. “You need a pack,” Ethan reminds, “we need an alpha.”

“Yeah, absolutely not,” Stiles refuses, without a second of hesitation. “That’s hilarious though.”

“Besides,” you add with a shake of your head and a shrug of your shoulders, pulling the twins’s attention on you. “He already has a pack. Scott doesn’t need you two as much as you need him.”

With a sigh, Aiden doesn’t relent, shuffling forward slightly. “You came to us for help,” he reminds once again, slight desperation peeking in through his tone of voice. “We helped.”

“You beat his face into a bloody pulp,” Stiles argues, shaking his head. “That’s not helping. In my opinion, that’s actually counter-productive.”

“Why would I say yes?” Scott questions, trying to understand. Your lips part as you turn to look at him, your body tense. It might seem wrong, but you’re glad Scott isn’t buying into their act so easily. The twins have a lot more than need to prove before you’ll ever accept them, let alone anyone else.

“We’d add strength,” Aiden begins, “we’d make you more powerful. There’s no reason to say no.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “I can think of one,” you raise a coy brow, “more than one actually–”

“Like the two of you holding Derek’s claws while Kali impaled Boyd.” You turn your head to the right at the sound of Isaac’s voice, finishing off what you’d begun. He comes to a stop next to Scott, arms crossed across his chest as he glares at the twins. You meet his eyes for a moment, nodding – you know, if anyone will back you up, it’s him. “In fact, I don’t know why we’re not impaling them right now.”

“I’d love to help,” you grin sarcastically over at the twins.

Ethan raises his head, his eyes glowing blue and his fangs peeking over his lips as he glares at Isaac. “Wanna try?” The two taking threatening steps towards one another, but before Isaac can even make it farther than a step, Scott’s hand shoots out, grabbing Isaac’s wrists and halting his movements. His gaze slides over to your brother, then you, and with a sigh, you shake your head.

You’d love to do exactly what Isaac mentioned, but you know you can’t now. Not here, in the middle of the school parking lot.

“Sorry,” Scott shrugs, “but they don’t trust you. And neither do I.”

Scott steps forward, forcing the twins to step apart from one another and make room. You move to follow behind, Stiles’ hand falling on your lower back, almost protectively, as he guides you forwards and away from the twins. You can’t help but send a glare up at the two, pushing your way past without a glance back before turning your sights on Stiles, meeting his eyes.

Your meeting gazes linger long than what would be considered platonic before you set your sights back on your brother, cheeks flushed slightly.

Pushing open the school doors, you flinch when you see something fly by your face, just narrowly missing it. You follow the object with your eyes, deciphering it as a roll of toilet paper as it hits Stiles directly in the face, him and your brother jerking back in response as their lips parts.

“All right,” Stiles bellows, groaning slightly as he blinks. “That’s my face!”

You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing, a small giggle escaping your lips which easily catches Stiles’ attention. His eyes fall on yours and with a mock glare, he snaps; “you think that’s funny, Y/N?”

Grinning, you hide your smile behind your hand; “a little bit.”

Rolling his eyes, Stiles chuckles slightly as he turns to Scott, the three of you falling in step with one another. Setting his hands on Scott’s shoulders, Stiles pats him on the chest; “hey, dude, good decision, buddy. Good alpha decision.”

“I hope so,” Scott sighs, shaking his head.

“I know so,” you assure, smiling over your brother past Stiles.

The three of you make your way over to Stiles’ locker, you and Scott leaning on either side of Stiles’ locker as he pulls open the door, pulling his textbooks and notebooks out of his back pack. You turn to say something to the both of them until you notice Scott’s attention focused elsewhere, seemingly noticing it the same time Stiles’ does. You meet Stiles’ eyes in confusion, before glancing behind yourself, a grin making it’s way onto your lips when you see exactly what, or should you say who, Scott is looking at.

“What are you looking at?” Stiles questions, pulling Scott’s attention back on the two of you.

“Me?”

“You.”

“He’s looking at Kira,” you smirk, briefly glancing over your shoulder at the girl before grinning knowingly your brother’s way. You notice Stiles pull out a carton of eggs from his bag in the corner of your eye, but choose not to comment on it with a small roll of your eyes. There was more important things to discuss -- like Scott’s crush on Kira.

“What?” Scott exclaims, eyes going wide. “No, i’m-i’m not...”

“You totally were,” Stiles grins, “you like her?”

“No,” Scott answers, a little too quickly. “I mean... uh... yeah, yeah, she’s okay. She’s new.”

“She’s sweet,” you add knowingly, raising a brow Scott’s way. “And she’s cute.”

“Well, uh, I mean...” Scott stammers, his cheeks warming slightly, obviously flustered. “Yeah...”

“So,” Stiles continues, “ask her out.”

“Now?”

Locking his lock, Stiles nods; “yeah. Now.”

“Ooh,” you squeal in excitement, clapping your hands as you follow Scott’s and Stiles’s lead, walking away from the latter’s locker. “Yes, yes, right now.”

“Right now?” Scott asks, obviously unsure.

“Right now,” Stiles nods, once again taking your brother by the shoulders and prepping him up. “Scott, I don’t think you get it yet. You’re an Alpha. You’re the apex predator. Everyone wants you. You’re like the hot girl that every guys wants.”

Odd comparison, you can’t help but think, but, you weren’t going to disagree. Scott needed this encouragement if he ever wanted to ask Kira out.

You turn to Isaac as he walks up to the three you, and you can’t help but let out a tiny giggle at his impeccable timing.

“I’m the hot girl?”

“You are the hottest girl,” Stiles confirms, giving your brother two thumbs up and a reassuring smile before letting his eyes fall on you.

Understanding what he means, you nod, offering a wave Isaac’s way and a grin Scott’s before turning around and heading off with Stiles next to you.

“Barrow went after kids with glowing eyes? He said those exact words?”

Hastily following behind Stiles, Isaac and Lydia on either side of you, Allison next to Lydia, you listen closely to Stiles as he answers Isaac’s question. You figure, by now, you should be use to the amount of supernatural-related crime and danger that goes on around you and your friends. Yet, each time something new appears, you still feel your heart race madly against your chest.

“Yeah,” Stiles sighs, “and no one knows how he woke up from anesthesia. Just that when they opened him up, they found a tumor full of live flies, which in any other circumstance would be all kinds of awesome.”

“Did you say flies?”

Halting, you turn your head over your shoulder, turning to look at Lydia only to find yourself surprise when you find her quite a bit away from the rest of you.

“Lydia?”

“All day I have been hearing this sound,” she explains, her eyes falling shut to display her frustration. “It’s like... this buzzing.”

“Like the sound of flies?” Allison questions.

“Exactly like the sound of flies.”

“Scott!”

Taking a sharp right, you ignore Stiles who nearly runs into another kid, rushing to a stop before your brother who turns to you with wide eyes.

“Hey, dude,” Stiles calls, halting to a stop next to you. “Where the hell have you been?”

Before Scott can answer, Lydia falls to your right, her eyes wide; “the police are leaving,” she explains, voice breathless. “Why are they leaving?”

“The police?” Scott asks, brows furrowed in bafflement.

Turning to Stiles, you wait on him for an answer.

“They must have cleared the building and grounds,” he begins explaining, “which means he’s not here.”

“Who?” Scott questions, face scrunching up. “What are you guys...--”

Shaking your head, you gesture to Lydia. “But Lydia heard--”

“He has to be here,” Lydia cuts you off, her voice leaving no room for dispute. “That sound... The buzzing i’ve been hearing? It’s getting louder.”

“How loud?”

“You got it?”

Shuffling forward, you come to a stop before Melissa, peeking into the bag as Scott pulls it open wider. Once you see the hospital gown, what you’d asked your mother to bring, you lean back with satisfaction, a small smile falling on your lips. With this, Scott and Isaac will definitely be able to find Barrow.

Scott moves to takes the bag out of Melissa hands, but before he can pull it completely away, Melissa tightens her grip on it. “Promise me you’ll be careful,” her eyes then slide to yours, “the both of you. I looked right in this guy’s eyes, and it was terrifying.”

“Yeah,” Scott nods, his voice soft. “Okay, mom,” leaning forward, he presses a light kiss against her forehead. “I promise.”

He moves to walk off, and before you follow behind your brother, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around your mother for a short hug. Your face softens at the way her grips tightens on you, even for just a second, making it clear how truly scared she is. Hesitating a moment longer before pulling back, you smile at her reassuringly as your eyes meet hers.

“I gotta go,” you whisper, letting your hands fall by your side. “I’ll see you tonight?”

As you turn, shuffling back the way Scott went, Melissa nods her head; “yeah. See you tonight.”

“So this is how it’s gonna be now? We trust them?”

You face falls at Isaac’s words, peeking around the corner in the dimly lit room. You keep your mouth shut, despite wanting to reply. You’re just as unsure about Scott asking Ethan and Aiden for help as Isaac is, but you don’t speak on it. You trust Scott and his judgement, and you trust Lydia -- so if she thinks that man is in the school, then you need to find him. And you need all the help you can get to do that.

“Just because i’m letting them help, doesn’t mean I trust them,” Scott explains, inching forwards slowly and carefully.

“Yeah, well, I don’t trust them either,” Isaac agrees. “Or like them. In fact, I hate them and just want them to die.”

“Isaac,” you call, your voice sharp,

He turns to you, dumbfounded; “what?”

“Look, you’re not the only one who hates them,” you sigh, carefully shuffling yourself around a shelf. “But... they’re helping us now, so just... play nice alright?”

Isaac sighs, but reluctantly nods.

“Actually,” Scott speaks up, “if Barrow’s actually here and he’s got a plan, you might get what you want.”

Brows furrowed, your eyes follow the back of Scott’s head as he walks forward, ignoring your stare before your glare falls on Isaac who grins happily in response to Scott’s words. Hitting him lightly on the chest, you sigh with a roll of your eyes and a shake of your head before following after your brother.

“What?”

Ignoring Isaac, you continue to walk, not sparing him a glance.

“Did I do something?”

You halt to a stop when the fire alarm suddenly rings, causing you to jump slightly.

Glancing over at Isaac and Scott, it only takes the three of you a moment before you gear into action, running back the way you came.

“We didn’t find anything.”

“Not even a scent.”

Sighing, you come to a stop before Stiles and Lydia, your shoulders falling at Scott and Aiden’s words.

“It’s three o’clock,” Stiles remains, shoulders dropping. “So schools over. If there was a bomb, wouldn’t he have set it off by now?”

“Does that mean everybody’s safe?”

“I don’t know,” Lydia shrugs, and your eyes fall on hers in pity. “I just... I don’t know.”

“What do the different colored strings mean?”

Head in your hands, you pull your gaze off the pile of yarn next to you onto Stiles, meeting his eyes as he turns to face you. “Oh, just different stages of the investigation,” he explains with a shrug of his shoulders, pushing off his wall. “So green is solved, yellow is to be determined, blue’s just... pretty.”

You smile slightly at Stiles’ explanation, before letting your eyes wonder across the wall. “What does red mean?”

“Unsolved.”

Squinting your eyes slightly, you blink; “you only have red on the board.”

“Yes,” Stiles huffs, “i’m aware. Thank you.”

Sighing, you move slightly as you’re sat up instead of laying on your stomach, setting your hands in your lap as you mindlessly play with the blue yarn. Stiles is right, it is pretty. “Did you get detention for pulling the alarm?”

“Yup,” Stiles shrugs, “every day this week. It’s okay, though. We were onto something.”

Biting your lip, you glance down at your lap. “Even though we didn’t find Barrow anywhere in the school and we have no idea where he is?”

Stiles, not oblivious to the frown on your face, calls out your name softly as he crouches down before you. He sets his hand on your knee, to which you’re not oblivious to the slight shivers that flow through your body in response as you meet his eyes. With a soft, gentle voice, Stiles stares up at you in concern; “what’s wrong?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you sigh; “I just sometimes feel useless.” Your voice is incredibly quiet, and if Stiles wasn’t so close he probably wouldn’t have heard a word you said. “I mean, Scott and Isaac are able to help because they’re werewolves. Allison has her dad and is a hunter. Lydia’s a banshee. and even if we hadn’t found Barrow, she’s been right every other time something like this has happened. And then you... you’re always coming up with the plans and you always seem to work everything out. Even the twins were able to help more than I was--”

“Hey,” Stiles calls, pulling your eyes back on his as he gently shakes his head. “What are you talking about? You’re not useless, Y/N.”

Shaking your head, you just shrug hopelessly.

“I mean, you’re a witch,” Stiles reminds, smiling softly in hopes of lightening your mood. “You can move things with your mind and set fire to things. That screams awesome to me.”

“I’m a witch that doesn’t even know how to control her own powers.”

Stiles surprises you by setting his hand on your cheek, cupping it slightly and growing closer than he had been before. His lips are mere inches away from your own now, and the first thought that comes through your mind is how badly you want to kiss him then and there. To press your lips against his and have him return the intimate action.

You withhold yourself though, in fear of rejection.

“And if you wanted me to, I would go back to that school and search all night just so you could prove yourself, okay?” Stiles offers, and you feel yourself chuckle lightly in response to his words. “But you don’t have anything to prove. Least of all to me.”

Nodding, you smile endearingly Stiles’ way, his hand falling by his side as he takes his green sharpie back into his hand. You move to stand up, pausing though when you see Stiles pause himself, just about to uncap the sharpie. An unreadable expression crosses his features as his eyes widen.

“Stiles?”

“Get up,” he suddenly orders. “Get up now. We’re going to the school.”

Brows furrowed, you move to stand up, listening to his words despite your confusion. Stiles moves to grab something, turning to you before the both of you head out of his room.

“And call Lydia.”

“So, what are we looking for?”

Meeting Lydia’s eyes, you shrug. “Stiles wouldn’t say. He just said we had to come here and that we needed you.”

Brows furrowing, Lydia shrugs but nonetheless complies to your explanation as the two of you turn back towards Stiles, following after him. Your head jerks back in response when he opens the science closet at the back of the chemistry classroom, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“That was... supposed to be locked,” Lydia mumbles, obviously just as confused as you.

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles nods, turning to one of the shelves lined with beakers. “Notice anything else?”

“It smells like chemicals?” You offer, raising a brow.

Pulling out his phone, Stiles turns on the flashlight, crouching before the same shelf in search of something.

Just then, your eyes widen; “wait, they wouldn’t have been able to catch his scent.”

Stiles nods your way, continuing to use his flashlight to search for some kind of proof or clue you could use to help you find out where Barrow went. Just then, the three of you notice traces of blood and some broken glass right by Stiles’ feet.

“He was here,” Stiles whispers, “performing very minor surgery on himself. Lydia, you were right.”

“If I was,” Lydia mumbles, shoulders falling. “Then why don’t I feel good about this?”

“Probably because he was here to kill somebody.”

“But who?” You ask with a shake of your head.

“That’s what we gotta figure out.”

Stepping back, you allow Stiles room to head back into the classroom, before following behind him, Lydia behind you. “I guess... just look for anything,” Stiles guides, leaning forward to search in one of the lab desks. You follow his lead, moving to the corner of the classroom and picking up bottles of chemicals and books, trying to find a clue.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you notice Lydia making her way to the front of the classroom. It’s then that you notice the writing on the chalkboard.

“Lydia, what are those?”

“Atomic numbers,” she explains, coming to a stop before the chalkboard.

Coming to a stop next to her, you raise a brow; “is it a formula?”

“Not really. Nineteen’s potassium. Fifty-three’s iodine. Eighty-eight’s radium. The first two make potassium-iodide.” Reaching forward, Lydia grabs a piece of chalk, writing a large ‘K’ next to the number nineteen.

“Potassium’s K?” Stiles asks, brows furrowed in confusion.

“From kalium,” you explain, leaning past Lydia to meet his eyes. “The scientific neo-Latin name.”

Then, Lydia writes an ‘I’ next to the Fifty-three.

“What’s radium?”

She writes an ‘R’ next to the eighty-eight and then a ‘a’ following afterwards.

Your eyes widen as you read what Lydia’s just written.

Kira,

Crouching over Scott, you set your hands on his shoulder, trying to ignore the racing of your heart at the bleeding wound on his forehead. It’ll heal, you remind yourself as you hastily shake him awake.

Stiles falls next to your side, Lydia hovering helplessly behind the two of you as you call out Scott’s name worriedly.

“Scott! Scott!”

Slowly, his eyes flicker open, taking a moment before registering on the sight of you, Stiles and Lydia before him. Inhaling sharply, he sets his hands on either side of him, pushing himself up with wide eyes. Looking around, you can see the gears in Scott’s head trying to work out what he last remembers. Then, it clicks. “Barrow,” he gasps, “he took Kira!”

“We know,” Stiles nods, briefly meeting your eyes. “He was after her the whole time.”

“We have to think of something. He’s going to kill her.”

“I knew he was there,” Lydia breathes, eyes wide as she meets your own. “How did I know that?”

“Because you heard the flies, right?”

Eyes wide with hope, Scott shuffles forwards; “what do you hear now?”

Lydia pauses a moment, her eyes distancing as you all fall silent. Then, she sighs; “nothing. I feel like I can do this. But I don’t know what to do. It’s like it’s on the tip of my tongue, and I don’t know how to trigger it. I just...” Sighing, Lydia’s hands run through her hair in distress, shuffling forwards. “I swear to God, it literally makes me want to scream.”

“Okay, then scream,” Stiles mumbles, taking a step forward. Your eyes fall on the back of his head in confusion as he continues. “Lydia, scream.”

You flinch, your hands instantly falling to your ears in pain as a high-pitched scream echoes, making it feel like it rumbles the entire earth beneath you. You take a step back from her, bracing yourself, before it all just stops. She inhales deeply, and Stiles sends you a look of disbelief but you can barely focus on it when you see the look in Lydia’s eyes.

She’s on to something.

Looking up, Lydia stares at the street light above you. “It’s not flies,” she mumbles, before spinning, causing the three of you to stumble back in surprise and slight fear. “It’s electricity.”

“Wait a second,” Stiles mumbles, “Barrow was an electrical engineer. He worked at a power substation.”

“What substation?” You ask.

“So, when did you get there?”

“At the same time.”

“At the same time as who?”

“Same time as me,” Scott answers your father’s question, before Stiles has the chance to.

“And me,” you add, feigning a bright smile up at your father. His eyes narrow in your direction for a moment, before sighing.

“By coincidence?” He questions, raising a brow.

“What do you mean coincidence?” Stiles asks in return, leaning leisurely against the couch.

“That’s what i’m asking you,” Rafael huffs, his voice pitching in annoyance. “The three of you arrived at the same time. Was that coincidence?”

“Are you asking me?” Scott questions, face scrunching up in confusion.

“I think he’s asking me,” Stiles offers, but you shake your head.

“He could be asking me,” you remind, glancing briefly at the both of them.

“I think he’s asking the three of you,” Lydia speaks up, raising her brows over at the three of you. You bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning -- sure, maybe the three of you were being incredibly unhelpful, but you didn’t really care. Anything to rile up your father.

“Okay,” Rafael snaps, “let me answer the questions.” He moves to do so, before pausing, catching his mistake upon the looks he receives. “Let me ask the questions,” he corrects, sighing.

You notice Stiles out of the corner of your eye, raising his hand, sending your father a wink of feigned encouragement as Rafael continues.

“Just so I have this absolutely clear,” he begins, eyeing the five of you, including Kira who’s yet to speak. “Barrow was hiding in the chemistry closet at the school. Someone left him a coded message on the blackboard telling him to kill Kira. Then Barrow took Kira to a power substation and tied her up with the intent of electrocuting her, which blacked out the entire town.”

Nodding slowly, you blink; “sounds about right.”

“How did you know he’d take her to a power substation?”

“Well,” Stiles begins, scratching at his forehead absentmindedly, “cause he was an electrical engineer. So where else would he take her?”

Biting your lip, you brace yourself for your father’s response. “That’s one hell of deduction there, Stiles.”

“Yeah, what can I say? I take after my pops. He’s in law enforcement.”

You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing at Stiles’ response, even more amused when you hear Noah, who’s sat behind Rafael, snort in response to his son’s words, desperately trying to hide behind the palm of his hand. It doesn’t work, and your father sends Noah a glare as he tries to fix himself, pretending like he was coughing. “Stiles, just, uh... Just answer the man.”

“We made a good guess,” Stiles shrugs.

Rafael then turns his attention on your brother and Kira; “what were you two doing.”

“Eating pizza-”

“Eating sushi-”

You raise a brow at the two of them, watching as they glance at each other with wide eyes before turning back to your father.

“Eating sushi-”

“Eating pizza-”

They’d done the same thing, except reversed.

Inhaling sharply, Scott and Kira start over again, this time speaking at the same time; “eating pizza and sushi.”

Turning his head over his shoulder, Rafael refers to Noah; “you believe this?”

“To be honest,” Noah sighs, “I haven’t believed a word Stiles has said since he learned how to speak. But I think these kids found themselves in the right place at the right time and that girl sitting there is very lucky for it.”

“Kira,” your father calls, “is that how you remember?”

Slowly, the four of you lean forwards, setting your eyes on Kira as she slowly sits upwards, clasping her hands in her lap. “Yes,” she finally answers, voice not all that convincing but enough for Rafael to accept it. “Could I get my phone back now?”

“Sorry, but no.”

“Hey, Kira?”

She halts to a stop before you, her eyes wide as they meet yours. She turns her head over her shoulder, as if to run, but then she sees Stiles and Scott who are looking directly at the two of you, and she realizes she’s trapped.

Sensing her alarm, you take a step forward, setting your hand on her arm. “We don’t have to talk about what happened,” you assure her, sending her a bright smile as she turns to look at you once again. “I just stopped by to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh,” she mumbles, shoulders falling as her cheeks redden slightly. “Yeah, sorry. I, uh... i’m okay.”

“Good,” you grin, lips curving upwards, “just wanted to make sure. You still have my number right?”

Tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear, Kira nods.

“Text me if you ever need anything, okay?” She nods once again, and it’s obvious by how quiet she is that she’s extremely uncomfortable and desperate to get away. You take no insult to it, you can’t imagine how she’s feeling and after what Scott told you... well, you can imagine her being a little jittery. Offering a short wave, you excuse yourself from her side, stepping past her as your eyes fall in the direction Stiles and Scott had been.

You notice, as you make your way over to Stiles, that Scott is gone, probably having headed off to class.

“Hey,” you greet Stiles, falling in step with him. Your lips part though when he hastily takes you by the arm, pulling you to the side and his eyes on something or someone past your shoulder. Your brows furrow as you stare back at him, trying to figure out what had him in such disarray.

“Why were you talking to her?” Stiles suddenly asks, turning to you with concerned but alert eyes.

“Who?” You question. He couldn’t possibly mean Kira.

“Kira!” He exclaims, and it seems you’d been wrong.

Glancing back the way Kira had gone, you shrug your shoulders, incredibly confused. “I was just making sure she was alright,” you explain to Stiles, meeting his eyes. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem is we don’t know what she is! She could be dangerous.”

“Stiles--”

“I’m serious, Y/N.”

Shoulders falling, you frown at the way Stiles looks back at you. You can’t rightly explain it, but he seems incredibly concerned and frazzled about the entire thing. While you don’t believe there’s anything to be afraid of when it comes to Kira, you relent at the deep worry in Stiles’ eyes as he gazes back at you. “Okay,” you nod, submitting. “I’ll be careful around her.”

Letting out a breath of relief, Stiles nods, his hand letting go of your arm and falling by his side. “Good.”

As he begins to walk forward, you following behind him, though a bit slower, you can’t help but gaze at the back of Stiles’ head in wonder. Part of you understood where he was coming from -- none of you knew exactly what Kira was or if she was trustworthy. But then again, you were a witch, and if need be, you could defend yourself if anything were to happen. And yet, Stiles had seemed so concerned. As if you merely talking to Kira would get you killed and he couldn’t handle the thought of it.

It puzzled you.

“Okay, this one will get you into all the perimeter doors, this one into the evidence room, and this one’s for my father’s office.”

Raising a brow over at Stiles, Scott speaks aloud the exact question that had been roaming through your mind as he handed your brother and Kira the many cards. “You didn’t steal these, did you?”

“No,” Stiles shakes his head, “I cloned them using the RFID emulator.”

“Stiles,” you call, your voice pitching in panic. “Isn’t that worse than stealing?”

Pausing, Stiles meets your eyes; “it’s smarter.”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head, just as Kira pulls Scott aside; “Scott, can I ask you something?”

The two shuffle backwards, and you raise a brow, inside giddy about how close the two have gotten. She was already confiding in him, and you couldn’t help but feel happy for Scott. After Allison breaking up with him, and now with Allison being together with Isaac, you knew your brother had been heartbroken. You hoped Kira could help mend the pieces that had been ripped apart.

Stiles, on the other hand, didn’t seem as giddy about Kira’s secretiveness.

“Okay, i’ll just...”

Snorting, you shake your head. “Let them talk.”

Stiles turns to you, huffing in annoyance, almost like a child. “I just don’t like all the secretiveness.”

You open your mouth to reply, but before you can, Scott and Kira are making their way back over to the jeep where you and Stiles are. Nodding her head at Stiles, Kira silently tells him that they’re ready. “Okay,” Stiles nods, not even bothering to hide his annoyance. “So, now almost everybody’s out dealing with the blackout. But there’s always somebody at the front desk. There’s dispatch and usually a night shifter or two. You guys are gonna use the service door entrance by the dumpster. All right? Nobody uses it.” You squint, leaning forward until you’re able to see the service door Stiles refers to. “Now, i’ll text you if anyone comes out. But, Scott, if you get caught, I can’t help you.”

Turning to Stiles, you raise a brow.

“My dad’s under investigation for an impeachment because of your dad, so, if anything happens I will run and leave you both for dead.” Pausing, Stiles then points to you. “Her, too.”

“Wait,” you call, brows furrowing. “No, I can try and help-”

“We’ll both leave you for dead.”

Sighing, your shoulder fall as you shrug helplessly your brothers way.

“Got it,” Scott confirms after a moment, nodding. “Thanks. Seriously, dude.”

“I’d ask my dad, but you know...”

“No, I know. I get it.”

“Okay,” you cut in, leaning forward slightly, “You two should hurry.”

They both nod, shuffling back before turning in the direction Stiles had pointed them to. You and Stiles watch, and you can’t help but gnaw gently on your bottom lip.

Whatever reason Kira needed her phone, and you had a sneaky suspicion it wasn’t the reason Scott had told you, you hope they’re able to get it.

“What’s that?”

Stiles blinks, his eyes leaving the key he’d held up in front of him to meet yours. “Uh,” he starts, his eyes squinting slightly. “In all truth, i’m not really sure.”

Your brows furrow, shifting slightly in attempt to reach out for the key. But, before you can, the sound of a engine catches your attention and you turn your head forwards, your lips parting when you see your father’s car pulling up next to the station, your father then stepping out of the car a moment later.

“Ah, hell.”

Pulling out your phone, you hastily pull open Scott’s messages with you, letting him know that your father is heading into the station. You fidget, antsy for a reply, and letting out a huff when you don’t receive one. “He’s not replying.”

“Okay, i’m so going to regret this.”

Turning towards Stiles, you frown when you notice him moving to open the door. Quickly, you reach forward, setting your hand on his arm, halting his movement. “Stiles, your dad--”

“We gotta help them.”

Your lips part at Stiles words, your grip tightening for a movement before your eyes fall on your father. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help Kira and Scott, because you did, it’s just... Stiles’s dad.

“I know.”

‘Hey, hey. Wow! Thank God you are here. Oh, boy! Thank the lord.”

Stepping back before the door slams on your face, you briefly glance up at your father as Stiles runs into his path before pushing the door open and stumbling in yourself. Rafael glances back at you, confusion flooding his gaze before turning to Stiles. “What do you want?” Rafael questions with a slight shake of his head, turning to you as you come to a stop next to Stiles.

You turn to Stiles, eyes wide as you wait for him to come up with an answer to your father’s question.

“I was just...” Stiles begins, stammering over his words.

“We,” you cut in, leaning towards Stiles slightly as you gesture to him and then yourself. “We were just thinking on the case. And we, um... we thought--”

“We should clue you in on our thinking,” Stiles finishes for you, to which you eagerly nod. “And, uh, here’s our thinking. We were thinking that Barrow, right...---”

Eyes wide, you quickly think of something; “that Barrow received the information about who to kill at the school, right, you know that?” Rafael just stares down at you, unimpressed. “We were thinking that the person who gave him that information, um, check this out---”

“Might actually be someone from the school,” Stiles finishes for you, reaching forward to poke at your father’s chest. You offer a nervous smile as Stiles sighs; “and that’s uh, that’s what we were thinking.”

“Mmm,” Rafael nods, “you two are right.”

Meeting Stiles eyes, you blink. “We are?”

“Yep, we, uh... We started looking for links between Barrow, faculty and students last night.”

“Oh, wow,” you breathe, nodding slowly.

“So you already, then, uh, know that stuff?”

“Hmm.”

Throwing his hands up in the air, Stiles grins; “you already thought of that.”

“Your dad did, Stiles.”

“Oh.”

“His one useful suggestion.”

Your brows furrow at your father’s comment, ignoring the spike of fear that hits you when he swipes his card through the reader to his office. You open your mouth to say something in defense to Stiles and Noah, but before you can, Stiles beats you to it. “Hey, you know, this attitude that you have toward my dad? You can dress it up to all the professional disapproval that you want. But I know the real reason you don’t like him.”

Your body tenses at Stiles’ words.

Chuckling, Rafael raises a brow; “is that so?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods, voice quiet with threat. “Because he knows something that you don’t want him to know.” Rafael moves to step past Stiles, but Stiles steps into his path once again. “And guess what. I know it too. I know a lot of things that you don’t want anyone to know.”

You’re not oblivious to the underlying meaning to Stiles’ threat, or the way your father’s eyes meet yours as you shuffle uncomfortably, curling into yourself slightly.

Shuffling backwards, your father swallows nervously. “Go home the two of you. There’s a... there’s a curfew.”

Stiles steps forward, not without sending another glare your father’s way, but you hesitate a moment, clutching at your arm. You hate the way your father stares down at you, before his hand reaches out for you. You sharply pull yourself away from his touch, inhaling sharply as you avoid his eyes. “Don’t touch me,” you growl, curling into yourself further.

Stiles looks back at the sound of your words, stepping forward instantly and setting his hand on your back, gently pushing you in front of him. You don’t miss the way he glares back at your father as you try to ignore the feelings resurfacing in your mind, desperate to get out of the police station.

The moment you’re out, and far away from your father, Stiles turns to you; “hey, i’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up--”

“It’s fine,” you cut off gently, sending a small, somewhat feigned smile Stiles’ way. “Let’s just meet up with Scott and Kira.”

Stiles seems reluctant, not oblivious to your clear change in demeanor, but doesn’t argue, wordlessly following behind you.

“We did it. All the pics deleted,”

You stand up straight as Scott and Kira come to a stop before you, pushing the thoughts that hadn’t left your mind to the back as you grin smile down at Kira’s excited expression.

“That was awesome!” She exclaims, her smile brilliant as she laughs. “I mean, terrifying. Completely terrifying... But kind of awesome. I’ve never done anything like that before. Have you?”

Pausing, you turn to Stiles and Scott; “yeah, once or twice.”

“Huh.”

Nodding slowly, Scott turns to Kira; “I guess I should take you home.”

You’re not oblivious to the clear disappointment in Kira’s eyes as Scott turns to you, almost questioningly. Biting your lip, you meet Scott’s eyes. “I’ll be fine,” you assure Scott, “can I, uh, speak to you a moment?”

Scott slightly confused but doesn’t argue nods, and grabbing him by the arm, you pull him back slightly, away from Kira and Stiles. “Take her to the party.”

“Huh?” Scott blinks, brows furrowed.

“Kira,” you explain, rolling your eyes. “Take her to the black light party that the twins are throwing.”

“Oh,” Scott mumbles, “are you sure? Maybe she-”

Slapping him on the shoulder, and ignoring his cry of pain, you shake your head at your brother. “Just do it.”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

You watch Scott walk off with a grin plastered to your lips, only after a moment passes do you head over to Stiles’ jeep. Crawling your way into the passenger seat, you meet Stiles’ gaze with a bright smile on your lips as he raises a brow questioningly your way. “I told Scott to take her to Halloween party the twins and Danny set up,” you explain softly to Stiles. “It’s clear how much he likes her, and she likes him. The two of them just needed a push.”

Stiles chuckles lightly, nodding along to your words until silence falls over the both of you. Part of you expect Stiles to just start the jeep and drive, but an awkward atmosphere falls over the both of you as silence envelops the jeep.

Then, Stiles speaks up; “would you, uh, like to go to the party?”

“Yes,” you answer instantly, your cheeks warming when you realize just how eager you’d seemed. Coughing slightly, tucking a strand loose hair behind your ear in a habit of nervousness and embarrassment, you smile over at Stiles who’s watching you with an unreadable expression. “I mean,” you laugh slightly, “i’d love to.”

“It just showed up there on my key ring this morning. I asked my dad if he put it there but he said he didn’t know anything about it.”

Shuffling behind Kira, you push your way past the crowd of kids all dancing to the blaring music. The four of you, Scott, Kira, Stiles and you, make your way through the crowd slowly and carefully, your eyes adjusting to the neon that seemed to be everywhere.

Derek was so going to kill you if he ever found out about this.

“It’s just a key, right?” Scott asks, his voice raised to be heard over the music.

“Yeah,” Stiles confirms, “but it’s not mine. And I don’t know how it got there or what it’s for.”

“You want to leave so we can figure it out?”

Your eyes widen at Scott’s question. Staring around at Derek’s loft and the kids that all party around you, you realize just then how much you just want to be a kid your age for once. You just want to enjoy Halloween and this party and there’s a specific person you want to do this with. But you can’t if him and Scott leave, which will then lead to you leaving as well.

Too many times have you pushed back what you want because you thought better of it, or because you were too shy to act on your feelings. Too many times have you denied having fun because of the world wind of what you call your life you’d been thrown into. This party wouldn’t last forever and that key could wait until another day before it needed to be figured out.

So, without confidence you don’t know where it came from, you slip your hand into Stiles’. It causes whatever he’d been about to say in response to halt, lips left parted as Scott and Kira look at the two of you in question. You have yours and Stiles’ hand in a position where they can’t see, but you know what you’re about to do they’ll see plainly, but won’t be able to hear.

No longer are you going to hold out on your feelings for fear of rejection or because you’re afraid. And you’re sure as hell not gonna let Kira and Scott’s wandering gazes stop you either, even if the latter is your brother.

Pushing yourself up to the tip of your toes, you move so your lips are directly next to Stiles’ ear, a breath away. “Or we could stay and dance and you could paint my body?”

You smirk as you lean back, watching as Stiles’ eyes widen and his eyes meet yours briefly. You don’t miss the way his cheeks burn red as you take a step back, pulling on his hand.

Turning to Scott, Stiles’ nods; “it can, uh, it can wait.”

Before you even give Scott the chance to reply, you’re pulling Stiles away by the hand, sending Kira a wink and covering the both of you from their gazes within the crowd.

Giggling, you stare up at Stiles as he dances wildly. He might not have the best moves, and in all honesty, he looks quite dorky, but you can’t deny that he looks cute right then and there.

You shuffle in front of him, dancing with him, albeit a little less intensely then he is. The smile still hasn’t faded from your lips, and you can’t remember the last time you’ve had fun like this. All thoughts of your father and what had happened earlier at the station have completely left your mind and you find yourself practically bouncing with confidence you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt.

For once, you’re just being a teenager.

Biting your lip, you lean forward, taking Stiles’ hand in your own nervously as his movements gradually slow in anticipation. Meeting his eyes, you spin around, pressing your back up against Stiles’ chest and pulling his arm around your waist. He seems to understand what you mean, and setting either of his hands on your hips, you lightly grind up against him, the music the only thing you’re able to hear as you move your body to the beat.

The two of you continue to do so for a moment longer before you’re spinning in Stiles’ grip once more, tilting your chin upwards to meet his eyes. Stiles still seems quite nervous, and it’s obvious he isn’t actually sure where to put his hands, not wanting to over step his boundaries, but you help guide him.

Setting his hands on your waist, you lean forward, pushing your chest against Stiles own as you lean forward, placing your lips against his left ear once more.

“You still want to paint my body?”

Inhaling sharply, Stiles nods, “y-yes.”

You smirk, stepping back and pulling yourself away from Stiles’ grip as you grab the hem of your t-shirt. Pulling it up and over your head, you leave yourself bare in only your green sports bra to Stiles’ eyes. He stares down at you, and you realize this is the first time Stiles has ever seen in you in this kind of light. It’s obvious that the two of you are past that awkward friendship stage, and you haven’t been oblivious to how close the two of you have grown recently.

But still, goosebumps grow on your arms as you stand there with your hands on either side of your body. Stiles can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

As you meet his gaze once more, Stiles lets out a shaky breath; “wow...”

Feeling your cheeks warm, you swallow thickly. “Well then, paint.”

“Hey, let me see that key.”

“Oh, Y/N, you don’t have-”

“Just hand me the key,” you sigh, grinning lazily over at Stiles with your palm held upwards.

The two of you are sat on Derek’s staircase, your shirt still off, showing off the design Stiles painted on your body. You would’ve kept dancing with Stiles, but the two of you both agreed you needed at least a few moments of rest. And you found, as you sat there, the high from the thrill of it before fading, your mind wondering back to the key that had seemed to confuse Stiles greatly.

Setting it in your palm, your eyes narrow slightly at the bright green finger print plastered on the key. Then, it clicks in your mind; “your key has phosphors on it.”

You turn to Stiles, just then realizing how truly close the two of you are. Your eyes fall on his lips, which are mere inches away from your own. Just like that night in his bedroom, you feel the sudden strong urge to kiss him. Something about the look in Stiles’ eyes tells you he feels the same. You can feel his warm breath tickle your face, and the heat radiating off of his body as the two of you remain gazing back into each other’s eyes.

You hesitate, swallowing nervously, as your gaze continues to flicker back and forth from his eyes to his lips.

Then, suddenly, you’re leaning forward. Your lips are pressed against Stiles’ before you even realize they are. For a moment, panic surges through your body, expecting him to pull back, but Stiles only returns the kiss, pressing his lips against your own with as much force as you had a moment ago. As seconds pass with your lips against one anothers, you feel your confidence grow, causing you to lean up more.

Your hand moves to Stiles’ right cheek, cupping it as his lands on your waist, pulling you closer. Just as the kiss continues to deepen, you raise your other hand, the one that held his key, and Stiles’ suddenly pulls back. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, breathless as you meet his eyes. “But... what are phosphors?”

You ignore the pang of hurt that floods you at the fact that Stiles had pulled away to ask you about the key. It isn’t your place to be upset, when it’s clear how much this key has been upsetting him all day. Still, it doesn’t settle right within you.

“They’re any substance that luminesces,” you explain, meeting his eyes. “It’s in your teeth and fingernails. It’s also in the paint and the makeup that everyone’s wearing. Reacts to the UV light, that’s why it glows.”

Stiles nods, obviously content with your explanation. Meeting your eyes, he raises a brow; “wanna continue...?”

You smile at that, nodding as you lean forward once again, molding your lips against his. This time, the kiss doesn’t last as long as before as Stiles pauses, his lips still pressed against yours until he pulls back, taking the key from your hands. “How’d I get phosphors on my key?”

Your brows furrow at his question; “chemicals,” you explain. “Have you been handling chemicals...?” The words leaves your lips before you’re able to properly assess what you’ve just said. The moment you do, your eyes widen as you turn to Stiles. The name leaves your lips in an echoed whisper; “Barrow...”

Suddenly, Stiles stands up, taking your hand in his and pulling you up along with him to your feet. “We have to get to the school,” he hastily explains, beginning to move towards the crowd once again. “Now.”

You don’t argue, nodding as you quickly reach for your shirt, letting go of Stiles’ hand to pull it over your head. The moment you’re situated, you turn back to Stiles, ignoring the jump of your heart as he once again takes your hand in his own, allowing him to pull you through the crowd and out of Derek’s loft.

It may have ended short, but Stiles had still kissed you. Had still wanted to kiss you. The feelings you’d always thought weren’t reciprocated, seemed to be now.

“Stiles...”

Letting out a shaky breath, you pull your gaze away from the chalkboard to meet Stiles’ eyes. He has the same fear in his gaze that you hold in your own.

The key that had mysteriously landed in his hands was the key to the chemistry room closet and the writing on the board... it was Stiles’ writing.

Let me know what you thought? Remember, reblogging always helps!

Part 21?

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anchorsandadderall · 7 years

Text

Love Me Tinder

Laura Hale Appreciation Week

Day 5 Theme: Lovable Laura

Also on AO3

Laura doesn’t ask how Erica got ahold of her phone. She stopped asking questions like that a long time ago. She just gives in to her own position of powerlessness in the universe (which is supposed to be peaceful, according to her yoga instructor) and sets the plastic tray on the table.

“Laura, how are we supposed to have a Tinder Update meeting if you’ve deleted the Tinder app?” Erica asks, turning that unimpressed look on Laura. Ugh, now she knows how Isaac feels. That’s some powerful judgement in those smoky eyes.

“I used it for over a week,” Laura protests, sitting across from her and taking her phone back. “That counts.”

“Not when there’s also no new phone numbers and not a single dick pic.” Erica grabs her styrofoam cup. “And you got a muffin.”

“You like muffins.”

“You’re buttering me up with pastries.”

Laura groans and rubs her forehead. “You know, you’re supposed to respect your Alpha.”

“Sure.” Erica pries the top off of the muffin and pushes the stump away. “So. Let’s hear the tragic tale.”

“Okay, so first there was Kevin. We matched pretty well and he sent me cute pictures of his dog, so we decided to get dinner. He came to pick me up-”

“You gave a guy your address?”

Laura gives her a Look. “I could have snapped him in half.”

“Fine, carry on.”

“So Kevin came to pick me up on Thursday night…”

“Hi!” Laura says, probably with too much enthusiasm, when she opens the door. Kevin is as cute as his picture, with his surfer hair and his dimples.

“Hi! You must be Laura.” The guy is smiling just as wide and also sounding way too excited. Oh thank god, someone else who’s bad at this. Laura knows basic dating. Classic, awkward as hell, ‘let me sell myself like this is a job interview’ dating. Familiar territory, this is good.

“Yes. Yes, I am. And you must be Kevin.” Who else would he be? At least she’s still good at the awkward part of this.

“That’s me. Glad you recognize me without Kiki posing with me.”

Laura laughs and grabs her keys from the hook by the door. “Not that I object to men showing up with bulldogs tucked under their arm, but-”

BANG

Laura startles when the walls shake a little from something upstairs. Kevin must have heard it too because he’s looking at the ceiling of the foyer with concern.

“Uh… everything okay?”

‘Yes. Everything is absolutely fine. We should definitely go, right now, while I can still assume everything is fine,’ should have come out of Laura’s mouth.

“My brother is home,” is what Laura says instead. “I… should probably run upstairs and check on him, actually. Uh, come in.” She steps back and lets Kevin into the foyer. It seems rude to make him stand outside on the porch.

Laura takes the steps up two at a time. When there a second, loud BANG, she takes them three at a time and sprints down the hall, shoving the door open.

“What-”

Derek scowls at her from where he has Stiles shoved back against the wall with his arms pinned over his head in a way that makes his shirt lift just enough to show off a sliver of stomach. Laura doesn’t miss the last flicker of blue that dies out in Derek’s eyes.

“Seriously?” she asks, looking between the two of them.

“Weren’t you leaving on a date with some weird online guy?” Derek asks, not even pretending to be ashamed.

“He’s not a weird online guy. Lots of people meet online.” Laura puts her hands on her hips. “What have I told you about manhandling Stiles?”

“He likes it,” Derek says, shrugging and leaning in to nudge Stiles’ neck with his nose.

“I don’t mind,” Stiles agrees. “But you should be nicer, dude. Meeting online is totally acceptable these days. What’s he like, Laura?”

Laura rubs her sinuses. “He’s patient enough to wait downstairs while you two slam each other around up here.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Sounds like a keeper.”

Stiles hits his shoulder. “Sorry Laura. We didn’t mean to delay you. Uh… have fun on your date?”

Laura sighs and shuts the door just in time to hear something (probably Stiles) hit the wall again. Or maybe it was the desk this time. “Stop with the dominance displays, Derek! Jesus!” It takes her until halfway down the stairs when she suddenly smells Kevin again that she remembers she left him standing in full hearing range.

“Oh my god, I’m really sorry you had to hear that,” she says as she makes it to the landing. “My brother is just… rowdy.”

“Oh, sure,” Kevin agrees way too quickly. And Laura can see him looking around the room and then back at the door. Well, that’s probably not good. “Look, uh… I’m not…” Kevin looks like he’s trying to pick his words carefully. Tactfully, even, which is kind of him. Damn, this was a nice one. “I’m not really a part of your scene. No judgement, okay? Just not my thing.”

“My… scene?”

“Yeah, S&M is just a little… heavy for me. Uh, it was super great to meet you, though. And I’ll tell Kiki you were awesome.” And then Kevin is backing out the door and making a beeline for his car so fast that Laura doesn’t think it’s worth yelling after him that she actually thinks chains are a total mood killer.

“Well… at least he respectfully declined.”

“Erica.” Laura grabs the discarded stump of muffin and peels the wrapper down. She deserves chocolate chip goodness after all of this. “So then Jerome happened. We made it all the way to dinner, at least.”

Jerome is pretty okay. Their match wasn’t super strong, and he’s got a car with way too many crude bumper stickers. There’s at least four of them of Calvin peeing on other vehicle logos. This on the back of a Toyota Cressida, which doesn’t really seem like bragging territory but… Laura gets it. She loves her car too. She would never junk her up with stickers and let her get quite as dirty as Jerome’s car, but…

Judging, Laura. Stop it. It’s a car. And maybe he just has a more juvenile sense of humor. That’s not a deal breaker. And even if it was, they haven’t even gotten their entrees yet. And he’s had some good stories from when he was in the basic training for the army.

“Shit, sorry,” Laura says when she has to fumble for her phone in her purse right as Jerome is getting to the good part where one of the snooty recruits in his group is probably about to get a lousy deployment order as comeuppance for being snooty.

(“You answered your phone on a date?”

“I told him I had siblings. I know dating protocols, stop looking at me like that.”)

It’s a number she doesn’t recognize, so she sends it to voicemail. “Probably a telemarketer. Okay, so you guys were all getting your orders?”

“Yeah,” Jerome nods. “So we’re all getting out deployment orders, right? And Johnson, he just knows he’s gonna get some sweet gig like Germany. Everyone wants to go to Germany.”

Laura’s phone buzzes to show she has a message before she’s even got it pack into her purse. She glances at it. Shit, what if someone got arrested or something?

“Uh.. I’m gonna need to check this. Sorry.”

“Sure,” Jerome sighs, pushing back from the table. “I’m gonna hit the men’s room.”

“Thanks.” Laura immediately takes the voicemail.

“Good evening,” a pleasant, mechanical female voice says. “This is American Express. We need to verify your recent purchase for one hundred and twenty-one dollars and forty-four cents.”

Laura rubs the bridge of her nose as she hangs up and dials again.

“Yeah?” Cora says when she picks up.

“Cora. I thought you were just taking Lydia to dinner,” she says, forcing her voice to stay calm and steady.

“Yeah, I just dropped her off. Why?”

“You spent over a hundred dollars in a restaurant?” Laura will not lose her temper in the middle of a dining room full of strangers. She will not.

“Yeah. It was a nice place.”

“There are no restaurants that nice in Beacon Hills. What the hell did you two have?”

“Well, I had a steak.”

“Uh huh.”

“A big steak.”

“Cora.”

“And Lydia had a salad with chicken.” Laura can hear the eye roll in Cora’s voice that says ‘as always.’

“And dessert was… what? Gold?”

“No. Lydia didn’t want dessert. She’s on a no-sugar kick again.”

“Cora!” Laura forces an apologetic smile when Jerome chooses that moment to come back to the table. Great, he’s looking at her weird now.

“I just ordered a few salads to go, geeze!”

“What? Why?” Laura feels like there’s something she’s just not getting because Cora seems to think this is all pretty normal.

“For Lydia.”

“Why did you need more salads for Lydia if you already ate?”

“Y’know. In case she got hungry later. Like, when no one is there to bring her food.”

Laura watches a drop of condensation slide down her glass and down onto the table cloth as she tries to fit these puzzle pieces into any other order, but she’s pretty sure she’s got it. Oh god… “Are you… are you trying to provide for Lydia?”

“What? No!” Cora scoffs, sounding as offended as possible.

“Oh my god, you are!” Laura isn’t sure if this is horrifying or hilarious. It might be both. “You’re a step away from dragging a deer carcass to her door!”

“Laura, no I’m not! Shut up, you don’t even know what you’re saying!”

“I’m saying you’re courting a human with a food display!” Cora abruptly hangs up the phone and leaves Laura very alone and very aware of the conversation she just had in a crowded dining room.

“So… that probably didn’t go much further.”

Laura glares at Erica. “You think?” she mutters around a mouthful of her muffin. “It was a disaster.”

“Was that the worst one, at least?”

“I gave it one more shot,” Laura says darkly. “Because I just don’t fucking learn.”

Laura and Laird are not going to be a thing. For one, the alliteration in their names would make for an introduction where everyone laughs awkwardly at the end. After an amazingly bad nine days on Tinder, Laura doesn’t even give a fuck if that’s a stupid reason. Also, though, she’s pretty sure they don’t really like each other much. Or dislike each other much. There were only so many people in Beacon Hills on Tinder, though, and a vague match was good enough for one quick round of Netflix and chill, never to be spoken about again.

It takes two beers and a shared plate of onion rings at a sports bar for them to decide that they’re both fed up with dating apps and horny enough to settle on this for tonight. Laura excuses herself to the bathroom so she can call Derek and let him know she’ll be out tonight so he doesn’t show up at some ungodly hour thinking he has to murder someone.

“Hi Laura,” Cora says cheerfully. Well, that sets the alarm bells off instantly.

“Why are you answering Derek’s phone? And what’s wrong?” she asks, frowning.

“Uh… nah, I think it’s all fine. Derek can’t come to the phone right now.” Something shatters in the background, and then something heavy falls against something else. “How’s your date?”

“What the hell is going on there?”

“Derek and Scott are having a mild disagreement.”

Laura winces, hearing something wooden splinter. “It sounds like they’re trying to kill each other.”

“Well… yeah, but they’ll knock it off.”

Laura sighs. “What are they fighting about?”

“Derek said Scott touches Stiles too much and said he’s scenting him. Scott wouldn’t knock it off, so then Derek started scenting Isaac. Now they’re both pissed.”

“Great. I’m on my way. Tell them if either one of them are dead by the time I get home, I’m going to be pissed.”

“So after I got home and separated them and figured out how much shit was broken, I deleted the app.” Laura shoves the last bite of the muffin into her mouth and chews moodily.

“Jesus,” Erica breathes, and she actually looks impressed. “I can’t even say you’ve up too easily. You have the worst dating luck ever.”

“I’m running two relationships pretty successfully right now.”

Erica barks out a laugh, like she wasn’t expect to. “Yeah, but you’re not actually in either of them.”

Laura sighs and brushes away the crumbs from the muffin demolition. “Yeah, well. What are big sisters for?”

#LHAW17 #my writing- beware #(look I made it before midnight tonight!)#in which Laura must deal with the issues that come with interspecies dating #and having younger siblings

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