My buddy kel just posted about 40k of slow build Derek/Stiles, case!fic, Stilinski family feels, mistaken identity, and awesome Stiles voice. I highly recommend it! Outlaw for My Love — run, don’t walk!
My entry for Mating Games, Sun Your Buns, got a second place finish! Hot damn! Derek/Stiles future fic (while Stiles is away at college) for the themes of “established relationship” and “bonds.” Partial outsider POV and humor. Check it out!
So immediately after the Teen Wolf finale, I began writing this story that would take place at their ten year high school reunion, with extensive flashbacks from each character. I was planning to finish before the third season, but no way is that going to happen. But I really liked the story! So I’m going to post some snippets from it over the next few days. And maybe one day I’ll finish it. Who knows? At any rate this first snippet is from Allison’s POV:
“I usually have a SyFy movie marathon today.”
Allison looked up, her fingers tightening on the bag of Reese’s peanut butter cups. Stiles shuffled his feet, blinking in the harsh fluorescent glare of the grocery store. He had a basket in the crook of his elbow – Pop Tarts, popcorn, soda made with pure cane sugar.
“It’s just a day,” Allison said, tired. One more month, and then they could leave. School would be over for the year. If it had been up to her, they would have left the second Grampa Gerard went up in flames, but Dad had insisted she finish her junior year, just two more months in Beacon Hills. They’d halved the time now, but if Allison had to commiserate over the existence of Mother’s Day with Stiles Stilinski, she was not going to make it that last month.
“Yeah.” Stiles nodded his head like a bobble doll. He didn’t stop looking at her.
“Well, I should be going.” Allison hoisted her bag of candy in the air and gave him a tight smile. “See you at school, Stiles.”
He didn’t say anything, eyes too bright as she passed by.
She took the long way home and ate three peanut butter cups before making it to her street. She stopped a few houses down, unnerved by the ‘For Sale – SOLD!’ sign on the front lawn. It was stupid; they’d moved a ton of times throughout her childhood, plus she was near aching with the desire to get away from Beacon Hills. But her eyes watered and she pulled over, wrenching her door open and throwing up the candy, her breakfast, her coffee, everything.
She yanked the door shut and drove away, leaving a mess on the edge of the Johnsons’ front yard. She was getting good at leaving messes behind; it sounded like the first line of a song from the game she had played with her Aunt Kate when she was a kid. Kate had gone through a Lilith Fair phase. To this day, Allison wasn’t sure if Kate had liked the girl power singer-songwriters, or she had just liked mocking them. The two of them had written countless emo ballads on pizza parlor napkins, the angstier, the better. I’ll wipe away your kisses like I’ll wipe away my makeup, our love in a smear of blue eyeshadow and black mascara on the balled-up Kleenex in my trash can.
Kate had probably been mocking them.
Stiles’ jeep was in his driveway. Allison blocked him in and leaned her head against her steering wheel for a full minute before getting out of the car and walking slowly to the front door. She left the candy on the passenger seat.
Stiles acted surprised to see her, and maybe he was. They’d been friends, before; allies, nearly always. The last time they’d been this close, she remembered, settling down next to him on the couch, had been the night they’d finally destroyed Grampa Gerard. She watched Stiles’ hands as he un-paused the movie and opened a can of soda for her, listened to his voice as he explained the pertinent plot details, his mouth going a bit slack when she raised her eyebrows. It was a SyFy movie. They weren’t watching for the plot.
It was strangely comfortable, sitting next to him. She could feel the heat from his body, his foot tapping a rhythm on the carpet, always moving, a sharp contrast to that night. He’d been so still, and Derek had scooped him up like he weighed nothing, running him out of the building.
Fucking Derek Hale. She wasn’t going to forgive him.
On the TV screen, a bear roared and someone died and Allison could not stop crying.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she finally managed, hiccupping. She could barely see the box of tissues Stiles held out to her and made a clumsy grab for them. Stiles kept patting her back. He was saying something, probably to set her at ease and distract her from the fact she’d fallen completely apart, but Allison had been distracted for the past year by a pack of alpha werewolves and her insane half-dead grandfather. She was done with distractions. She cried harder. She didn’t remember crawling into Stiles’ lap, but it was warm and safe, like it’d been with Scott but without the spark of lust. Without the history.
“Sometimes I’m so mad at her I can’t breathe,” she whispered, her voice high-pitched and shaky. “Why wasn’t I worth staying for? Why didn’t she love me enough to fight back? Why didn’t she at least try?”
Stiles’ arms tightened around her. God, it was a shitty club they belonged to now. She resolutely did not think that Derek also had a membership, and clung right back, burying her face in Stiles’ neck.