Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2038917.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Chris_Argent/
      Stiles_Stilinski, Lydia_Martin/Stiles_Stilinski, Danny_Mahealani/Stiles
      Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale, Peter_Hale, Chris_Argent, Danny_Mahealani,
      Lydia_Martin, Scott_McCall, Allison_Argent, Gerard_Argent, Isaac_Lahey,
      The_Pack_(Teen_Wolf), Jeep_(Teen_Wolf)
  Additional Tags:
      Steter_-_Freeform, sterek, Stanny_-_Freeform, Stydia, ALL_the_tags, in
      the_world, Sex, cross_dressing, Kidnapping, Reference_to_Episode, Code
      Breaker_-_Freeform, Kissing, Evil_Gerard, Underage_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-28 Chapters: 8/? Words: 3085
****** Everyone Loves Stiles ******
by TheCarrot
Summary
     A collection of shorts featuring different pairings with Stiles.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Steter: "Put. The. Weapon. Down." *****
“Back off Argent.” Stiles hisses from where he’s standing in between Peter and
the muzzle of Chris’s gun. The pack stands scattered around the loft but
there’s a look of open hostility on all of their faces. Except Scotts’. He just
looks worried, worried that his best friend, upon entering the room,
immediately placed himself between a psychotic werewolf and a Hunter.
“Stiles get out of the way.” Chris snaps gun unwavering. Allison stands
hesitant at his side looking between her friend and her father. “He killed
another person yesterday and he’s going to do it again.”
“He didn’t and I’m not moving.”
Derek growls as Peter steps forward, grabbing Stiles arm and is shocked when
Peter tries to pull Stiles out of the range of the gun.
“Get out of the way Stiles.” Peter whispers, words sounding like a mix between
his human and wolf voice.
“Fuck off Peter, You didn’t kill that woman and I’m not letting you take the
fall for something you didn’t do!” the teen snaps eyes not leaving Chris’s.
It’s not even a second, but Chris hesitates. He’s not a werewolf and can’t tell
if someone’s lying by their heart beat, but he has his own tricks, facial
expressions, tone of voice, tells; they all give away a person’s honesty.
Stiles doesn’t flinch though. “You honestly believe he’s innocent.” It’s not
even a question and Stiles doesn’t nod to respond. “What makes you so sure?”
Stiles snaps and Peters the only one to know why. “SURE? I’M FUCKING POSITIVE
BECAUSE HE WAS THE ONLY ONE WILLING TO SPEND MY BIRTHDAY WITH ME YESTERDAY! HE
WAS TOO BUSY FUCKING ME INTO THE MATTRESS ALL DAY LONG TO EVEN THINK ABOUT
KILLING ANYONE!!”
There’s complete silence all through the loft and Derek whimpers low in his
chest as he feels his wolf recoil. Stiles and Peter…
***** Steter: "This seems familiar." *****
It’s not that Peter hates helping out the Pack; it’s just that he does. Scott
is ungrateful and Derek doesn’t trust him. As much as he likes Lydia, the girl
is only so much fun to tease before the Argent girl feels the need to step in.
The Beta’s are a lost cause, he swears Derek went out and bit the three most
maladjusted teenagers in Beacon Hills and then Boyd to help level out the
neediness.
What he doesn’t mind doing, is helping out Stiles. The boy is light years ahead
of his friends in smarts and ingenuity and despite the fact that he set Peter
on fire, Peter likes him. Mostly because Stiles set him on fire.
It was a twisted maneuver that Peter doubts he would have thought of himself
but Peter never claimed to be completely sane before the fire and he can
appreciate the irony of the attack. He admires Stiles for it actually.
The fact that he likes Stiles is the only reason he’s helping out now, trying
to track a skin walker in town. Derek pulls his Camaro into a parking space on
the lower level of a certain parkade and Peter climbs out of the passenger
seat, pulling it forward to let Stiles out of the back. Scott climbs out from
behind Derek whose glaring at the space around him like usual.
Peter finds it endlessly amusing that the last time he was in this parking
garage he was with Stiles as well. Stiles seems to mirror his amusement as the
teenager shakes his head at Peter’s grin before he moves to the back of the car
where he sets his laptop down. “This seems familiar.” Peter chuckles drawing
confused stares from Scott and Derek. “Should have put the laptop in the trunk
for old times sake.”
“Shut up.” Stiles gives Peter a flat look like he can’t believe he brought that
up. Stiles had to burn that dress shirt; it had touched a computer bag that had
been leaning against a dead body. He burned the ever living shit out of that
shirt. “At least Derek can’t fit a dead body in his trunk.”
“Excuse me?” Derek’s eyebrows are meeting in the middle and Stiles forgets that
most of the pack doesn’t know that he had spent time in Peters clutches the
night of the formal. Oddly enough Jackson was the only one to know, not that
the lizard man cared at all. “Why would there be a dead body in my trunk?”
“To be fair, I’m pretty sure she was psychotic.” Peter states as if he hadn’t
even heard his nephew. Scott’s looking a little creeped out standing next to
Derek and the True Alpha slowly inches away.
“Pretty sure? She defiantly was.” Stiles rolls his eyes, mostly because of
Peters statement but a little for Scott’s antics. “Just shut up and give me
your MiFi, it’s the only way I can ever get a signal down here.” He holds out
his hand towards the oldest Hale.
Peter sighs digging the gadget out of his computer bag. “Just please tell me
your username and password aren’t Allison.”
Stiles laughter drowns out the indignant squawk Scott makes.
***** Stanny : "What if someone catches us?” *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Stiles is good at rolling with the punches. Rolling with the kisses however…
it’s a little out of his zone. Oh he’s imagine countless times a rough kiss
coming out of nowhere, probably courtesy of Derek, because that man can not do
gentle when Stiles pisses him off.
But Danny?!
Stiles blinks, mouth agape, from his spot pressed against his locker after
practice. Danny’s grinning down at him with a grin that looks like it belongs
on a wolf and Stiles swallows heavily. He sees Danny’s eyes track the movement
of his throat and a shiver runs down his spine. “W-what if someone catches us?”
Stiles will cop to his voice being a few pitches higher than it normally is.
Danny smirks and pulls the smaller teen towards the showers, “I’m willing to
take that risk.”
Chapter End Notes
     If i ever miss any tags or you see something that is wrong please let
     me know immediately! I will fix it as soon as possible! Thanks.
***** Sterek: #120 "Why are you wearing that?" *****
Chapter Notes
     The one with the crossdressing. Haha, i am so bad at writing Explicit
     stuff but it's in there so be warned!
Derek nearly falls on his face as he climbs through Stiles’ window, foot
catching on the sill when he catches sight of the teen.
Stiles raises a fine eyebrow, peering at the werewolf on his floor over the rim
of his black framed glasses. “Are you alright?”
A strangled sort of sound escapes Derek in lieu of a reply. He takes in the boy
in front of him with a sort of horrified amazement onlookers give a traffic
accident. Stiles has on a white button down shirt with a cardigan over it, both
are unbuttoned to a startling degree and Derek swears he sees a hint of lace-
Derek feels his fangs start to protrude as he takes in the curves Stiles didn’t
have that morning, fake breasts held up by a red bra. The red of his
undergarment almost matches the pleated, plaid skirt that has a hemline so
startling high on Stiles’ thigh it barely seems to cover anything. A white pair
of high socks draws his attention and Derek almost chokes. Stiles shaved.
Smooth, mile long legs with plain black high heels make him look like the best
magazine spread no one ever published.
Derek’s fangs are almost out of his mouth as he draws his eyes back up Stiles
body, to his painted lips and eye shadow, to the wide framed glasses and the
shoulder length brown wig in his hands.
“Derek? Are you okay?”
Said werewolf dredges up every gross image he can muster of rotting corpses and
his uncle he cam manage before grinding out, “Why are you wearing that?”
Stiles cheeks turn a fetching shade of red as he tells Derek about the party at
Jungle and how the girls he was friends with there helped him get ready.
“Uh…does it look okay?”
“Okay?” Derek repeats. He knows he’s still on all fours on the floor but its
either dig his growing claws into the carpet or dig them into Stiles pale
thighs and he’s not entirely sure how the latter would go over.
The teen rolls his eyes looking away, heart sinking in his rib cage as he plops
the wig in his hands onto his head. “Never mind, sorry I asked.” Stiles
muttered.
“No, wait, I mean…No-” Derek shot unsteadily to his feet, a bit of the carpet
coming up with his claws. “I-”
Stiles cringed looking down at his outfit and Derek could smack himself. So he
wasn’t the best with words; okay, fine. He was just not prepared in anyway for
Stiles the School girl. NO ONE could be prepared for that, let alone form
complete sentences around it.
“Yeah, you’re probably right, it probably looks ridiculous yea?” Stiles
muttered eyes not leaving the floor.
Then the worst thing happened. Stiles started reaching for the cardigan, making
as if to pull it off and- No. Just No.
Stiles yelped as he felt an iron grip latch onto his wrist, yanking them off
his sweater and pinning them to his bedroom door that suddenly appeared at his
back. “Wha?” whiskey eyes shot up in surprise, taking in the pained expression
on Derek’s face.
Derek doubted he even moved that fast when his life was on the line, but he was
not letting Stiles take the outfit off. Not unless it was Derek doing the
removing. Pressing Stiles flat against the wall Derek could feel the padded bra
dig into his chest and a growl escaped him as he wedged a thigh between Stiles
legs.
The cut off moan Stiles let out was like music to his ears and Derek could feel
his wolf roll over in satisfaction. “You’re not going to that party.” Derek
whispered, his hot breath ghosting over Stiles bare collar bone.
Stiles gasped, leg shifting to wrap around Derek’s calf to keep his balance and
it only seemed to push the wolf closer. Stiles was not complaining. At all.
“No?”
Derek didn’t miss the spark of arousal flashing through Stiles dark eyes. He
didn’t even bother to reply to such a stupid statement, just dart forward
crushing Stiles’ lips under his, sucking, and biting at his lower lip until
Stiles was gasping and trying to pull his hands free from Derek’s grasp.
The older mans grip only tightened as he hauled both of Stiles wrist over the
boys head and trapped them with one hand. Derek was never so glad to be a
werewolf in all his life. He deepened the kiss, tongue probing, curling around
Stiles’ before Derek pulled back. “Cherry?” he raised an eyebrow at the boy
pined under him.
Stiles swallowed, Adams apple bobbing as he licked his lips, tasting the fake
cherry flavour. “L-lip gloss,” he stuttered. “I, uh- borrowed it from Lydia.”
Derek smirked at the flush of embarrassment that stole down Stiles’ neck as the
teen remembered the predatory look on Lydia’s face as she handed over the shiny
tube of makeup. Leaning forward Derek let his lips tease down the side of the
pale neck; fangs grazing the delicate skin. It was barely a hint of pressure
but it seemed to be enough to have a chorus of whimpers escape Stiles bruised
mouth.
“Derek!” Stiles said his name like a curse as Derek skimmed his free hand up
Stiles’ bare thigh the back of his hand brushing the fabric of his boys skirt.
Derek let his fingertips dig into the unblemished skin as he hauled the teens
leg up further aligning their hips and Derek couldn’t help but push forward
into the welcoming v of Stiles’ legs.
***** Steter: "You don’t need to be so gentle.” *****
Chapter Notes
     More explicit sex! If I missed a tag please let me know.
Stiles hands scrabble at the headboard where they’re tied with Peter’s belt,
his own belt hangs loosely around his neck where Peter had been pulling it
moments ago. Right before his control had snapped and he begged Peter to hurry
up in fuck him in the most desperate voice he could manage.
“Ah! Fuck!” Stiles curses as Peter pulls his fingers out of his dripping hole,
but the bastard leaves his thumb there, letting it pull at his sensitive
opening and Stiles nearly bites through his bottom lip as he feels Peter start
to push his cock in next to his thumb.
“motherfucker-” it feels like all the air has been punched out of his lungs as
he tries to move his hips to pull the older wolf in faster.
Peter chuckled darkly, eyes almost electric as he pushes into the tight heat
below him. It’s almost enough to make him lose it then and there, he wasn’t
just toying with Stiles’s patience, he was almost playing with his own. Stiles
though, Peter growls under his breath as Stiles bucks backwards letting Peter
slid in another inch involuntarily. Stiles has surpasses all his expectations.
Peter digs his fingertips into Stiles hips and he’s sure the teenager is going
to have bruises there within an hour. But it keeps Stiles still and the sound
he lets out is frustration and want and everything Peter wants to hear. “What
is it Stiles?”
“Peter! Please, please, ah! Just fuck me.” Blue eyes rove over the beautifully
tense muscle under his hands, it’s pulled taunt as Stiles fights his bonds and
tried to get Peter to ‘hurry the fuck up’. “You don’t need to be so gentle
Peter, pleas-”
Stiles screams and almost comes as Peter drives the rest of his cock into him
in one smooth, hard motion. A litany of moans and pleas leave the boys bruised
lips as he twitches and tries to move, but Peter shifts forward his own clawed
hands moving to the back of Stiles knees holding him open and still so the boy
can’t move under his weight. Stiles makes a sound like he’s dying.
“You think I’m being gentle?” Peter hisses into Stiles’ ear as he bends the boy
even more in half causing Stiles to cry out, a bit of wetness gathering in his
long lashes. Peter digs his fangs into the curve of the ear beneath him and
Stiles tries to trust his hips up but Peters hold is like steel. “If you wanted
gentle you came to the wrong bed Stiles.”
“Fuck, no, don’t be gentle. Please,pleasepleaseplease”
Peter pulls out almost all the way before driving his cock back into Stiles
cutting off the frantic begging, doing it again and again and again until
Stiles is nothing more than a pile of nerves with the capacity to barely speak
words beyond ‘yes’ and ‘fuck’. Peter can feel the familiar tightening of his
balls and he lets go of one of stiles legs to get a hand around the boys
dripping cock. It barely takes two stroke before Stiles is coming, shooting up
his chest and can’t help but add insult to injury as he lets his mouth latch
onto the dusky nipple, biting it harshly with human teeth just as he empties
into the clenching muscle of Stiles ass and Stiles screams.
***** Chris/Stiles : "Don’t you dare come near me!" *****
It’s been a while but Stiles could never forget the look in those hard eyes. He
can barely hear anything over the roaring of his blood in his veins and his
vision swims from the way his head smacked into the pavement. Stiles knows he’s
screwed, Scott didn’t notice the first time this happened and the way Scott was
rushing off to help Isaac, Stiles doubts this time is going to be any
different.
Gerard steps closer, knife in one hand, needle in the other and Stiles stumbles
back against something solid that digs into his back. The image of the older
man stalking closer to him overlaps from before and Stiles swears he imagines
the frantic whines and jangling chains from Erica and Boyd beside him.
“D-don’t…” It’s the last of Stiles energy that’s not busy being completely
terrified, but he manages to bite out, “Don’t you dare come near me!”
Gerard just chuckles.
Suddenly the solidness at his back disappears and Stiles flails for a moment,
body flinching at the pain it causes, but then the empty space is replaced by
something else, the familiar, warm, hard planes of Chris fucking Argent. A sob
of relief escapes Stiles as a muscled arm wraps around his shoulders drawing
him flush to the man behind him, all moments before the sound of a gun going
off deafens everything else around him.
The scent of blood is cloying in the dank basement but Stiles doesn’t care. His
legs can’t keep him up and Chris obviously wasn’t expecting the sudden weight
and the two men slump to the floor a tangle of limbs. Stiles doesn’t care what
the position is doing to his back or his concussion. He’s got his hands up and
around Chris’s neck and the man has his face buried into his shoulder as his
arms pull Stiles infinitely closer.
It hurts but Stiles doesn’t care. Gerard’s body lays a few feet away, head
pretty much gone but Stiles doesn’t care. He’s alive and Chris is at his back
and he’s not fucking moving.
***** Stiles/Jeep: "No, that can’t be my baby." *****
The worst part about being kidnapped to be used as bait isn’t the bruises. It
isn’t even the worry that friends and family go through while you’re gone for
three days. It’s standing in front of a rectangle of twisted blue metal and
faded leather and Stiles just wants to throw up.
“Apparently they thought that if they left it somewhere it would be harder for
us to track you.” John sighs as he watches his son and waits for it to fully
hit the boy.
Stiles is frozen, can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t even think… “No…that can’t
be my baby.” He whimpers, bruises on his throat hurting as he talks.
“I’m sorry son, the Jeep’s gone.” John sets a consoling hand on Stiles
shoulder, the one that was dislocated not twenty hours ago and Stiles doesn’t
flinch. Just stares at the remnants of his poor vehicle and mourns.
***** Stydia : "I’m pregnant and it’s yours." *****
Chapter Notes
     I'm not very good with Lydia, she's too awesome for me to mess with!
“I’m pregnant and it’s yours.” Lydia states plainly as she hands him the
sonogram and it’s all Stiles can do to reach out and take it. He hands feel
clammy and Allison is standing next to Lydia, shoulders shaking and he kind of
hates her right now. His heart is beating to quickly and his stomach is rolling
around somewhere between ohmyfuckingshit street and holyhellhallelujah Ave.
Lydia and Allison watch Stiles for a moment, his eyes are unblinking and for
once he’s not moving in the slightest. Allison frowns reaching out an inch or
two away from his shoulder. “Did he just pass out standing up?” she asks.
The red head next to her sighs, “Probably, it is Stiles.”
End Notes
     Part of a list of sentences that I filled out where I ship someone
     with Stiles. :D I'm onlyoneexcuse over on tumblr so you may have read
     these before there.
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