Teen Wolf Mtv - Blog Posts

derek: okay fine, truth or dare?

stiles: truth

derek: how many hours have you slept this week?

stiles: ...

stiles: ...dare

derek: go to bed.

stiles: i don’t like this game.

derek: what is wrong with you?

stiles: loaded question. elaborate.

derek: i could kill you if I wanted to.

stiles: yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special derek.

derek: stiles, you don’t have any skeletons in your closet right?

stiles: do you mean literally or figuratively?

derek: honestly, the fact that I have to specify at all is what makes me worried.

god forbid a gay person be good at his job. “he killed scott” like a hundred people have tried to kill scott it’s not his fault he succeeded

theo raeken is just like me fr because if I was forced to hang out with three frenchmen I too would start killing people

you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

Somehow, Allison Argent survived

Should’ve Done Your Homework – Aiden Steiner x Reader

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Aiden Steiner x Reader

Summary: Theo Raeken has taken an interest on you while Aiden is out of town. Lydia, Stiles and Scott knock some sense into him.

Trigger warning: Cursing

Word count: 1.062

Theo Raeken had finally lost his patience.

He had noticed you the moment he returned to Beacon Hills, drawn in by your effortless grace and natural allure. You were breathtaking — without trying, without pretense, carrying yourself with an understated confidence that made you impossible to ignore. Confident. Sharp. Untouchable. Like you existed in a different league, and he wasn’t even worth a second glance.

So, he tried. Turned on the charm. Made conversation. Dropped little comments meant to test the waters.

Nothing. Not even a flicker of interest.

And now, standing in the middle of the school hallway, watching you walk away from him yet again, he had reached his limit.

He turned to Stiles, who was leaned against his locker, arms crossed over his chest, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He could barely contain his amusement at the situation unfolding before him. Scott, on the other hand, seemed genuinely uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as tension filled the air.

"Okay, seriously," Theo huffed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation, "what the hell is her problem?"

Scott and Stiles exchanged a quick glance, years of friendship allowing them to communicate volumes in that brief moment. "Her problem?" Stiles repeated, letting out a short, incredulous laugh. Scott pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not wanting to be a part of this conversation that was rapidly heading south.

Theo clenched his jaw. "Yeah, her problem. She's been nothing but cold to me since I got here, treating me like I'm completely invisible."

"This gonna be fun," Lydia muttered to herself, inspecting a perfectly manicured nail with exaggerated interest, a slight smirk tugging at her lips.

"So, let me get this straight," she drawled, her voice dripping with carefully measured disdain, "you're pissed off because she doesn't fall for your 'nice guy' act? You show up out of nowhere, acting all smooth, throwing a few compliments and charming smiles around like confetti, and suddenly you're entitled to her attention? Is that what we're dealing with here?"

Theo rolled his eyes dramatically. "That's not what I am saying—"

"Then what are you saying, Theo?" Scott interrupted, his usually calm demeanor cracking. His patience was running thin, evident in the sharp edge to his words.

"She barely even acknowledges me," Theo snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration, his voice rising with each word.

Stiles let out a sharp breath, barely containing his mirth. "Oh my gosh. This is hilarious. This is absolutely priceless."

Theo glared at him, his eyes flashing dangerously. "How is this funny, Stilinski? Please, enlighten me."

"It's funny because you're about as self-aware as a brick wall. Actually, that might be insulting to brick walls. Seriously, Theo. You should've done your homework before going after Y/N."

Theo narrowed his eyes, suspicion creeping into his expression. "And why is that?"

"Oh, come on, Theo. You're a big, bad werewolf. Think," Lydia urged, an amused grin spreading across her lips.

Irritation flickered across his face. "Just spit it out already," he demanded, his patience wearing dangerously thin.

Stiles turned to Theo with mock sympathy, placing a theatrical hand over his heart. "My dear friend, she's taken."

"So what? I've never seen her with anyone. And it's High School," he scoffed dismissively, as if that fact alone made relationships temporary, easily breakable, mere child's play.

"Oh, wow, buddy," Stiles grinned, clearly enjoying this moment far too much, "you really thought she's single just because you haven't seen her making out in the hallways? That's adorably naïve of you."

Theo's brows furrowed deeply, confusion and frustration warring on his features. "I'm just saying if she's taken, then where is he? Who even is he? Because I haven't seen anyone worthy around here."

Scott, who was mostly quiet up until this point of the conversation, leaned in purposefully. His voice was low, steady, carrying a weight that demanded attention.

"Quick question, didn't you say the werewolf who bit you was killed by his own betas?"

"Yeah — what does that have to do with anything?" Theo responded, clearly struggling to connect the dots.

"Well, my little clueless fool," Stiles shook his head with a mischievous smile that threatened to split his face, "one of those betas is dating Danny. The other…" his voice trailed off meaningfully. He didn't need to finish the sentence, letting the implication hang heavy in the air.

Theo's eyes widened in realization, the color draining from his face. "No way."

"Yes way."

"Go ahead, Theo," Lydia clicked her tongue, savoring the moment like fine wine, "say his name."

"You're telling me Aiden fucking Steiner — the former Alpha — is dating Y/N*,*" Theo gasped in disbelief, pointing at you. You were stood by your locker at the end of the hallway, casually chatting with Malia — once again, not paying attention to him, not sparing even a fleeting glance towards his direction. "For how long? How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, not that long, really," Stiles replied, his grin stretching impossibly wider, "it's been like, what? Three, four years? Something like that. You know, just a casual long-term commitment."

"What?! So you're telling me she was dating Aiden even when he was after you? When everything was chaos?"

"Oh, yeah. Snuck around everyone's back. Very forbidden romance, enemies to lovers of them — expect, they were never enemies, you know," Lydia answered, clearly relishing every moment of Theo's growing discomfort. "And not only that—he's fiercely protective of her," she added. "More like psychotically protective," Stiles corrected.

"If he's so overprotective, then where is he now? I've seen his brother around, but him? Haven't seen him in weeks," Theo objected, his confidence returning.

Lydia gave him a knowing smirk. “So what? He’s gonna come back, eventually.”

“And if he finds out you’ve been obsessing over his girlfriend for weeks - well… see how that goes for you,” Scott added, his voice dead serious.

Theo remained silent.

“So, if you want to keep pushing, good luck,” Stiles finished, clapping Theo on the shoulder. “And if you need help arranging the funeral… I know a guy.”

Stand By Me (rewrite) – Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: This a rewrite of a ficlet I wrote like, two years back, because why not. You can find the original here.

Word count: 673

Your finger hovered over the “call” button on your screen for a good minute before you decided to throw it on your bed. It was a little after midnight, and he would be sleeping anyway. Still, you desperately needed to talk to Stiles- you desperately needed to know that he was alright.

The truth was, despite maintaining your composure, you had no idea how to handle the events that occurred the last two days. You could still hear Scott’s voice, repeating the words “Stiles is missing” over and over again. You could still hear Stiles’ voice repeating, “It’s called Frontotemporal Dementia, it’s what killed my mom” over and over again. This loop in your mind didn’t seem to come to an end.

You were a chronic insomniac, but this kind of sleep deprivation you were experiencing was painful because you couldn’t recall how long you had stayed awake. Sleeping pills didn’t seem to be much help either.

You knew what you needed- you needed him. His touch, his scent, his warmth- him. You wanted to call him, but you didn’t- it seemed like a selfish thing to do because you knew he was as exhausted as you were, if not more.

You kept biting your lips until you could taste the metal of blood in your mouth in an attempt to calm down before your tears became sobs. Your phone vibrating, thankfully, made you instantly snap out of your thoughts.

“Stiles?” you asked as soon as you picked up the phone. His heavy breathing from the other line had you agonizing before he finally spoke up. “Can I come to see you?” he asked. His voice was oddly calm but devastated at the same time.

Instinctively, you glanced at the flip clock on your nightstand. “It’s almost one-thirty in the morning,” you pointed out, a sigh escaping your lips. “Do you want me to come to pick you up?” you questioned after a moment of silence. “No, I got this,” Stiles answered in a weak voice, and you could already hear his Jeep keys jiggling. You weren’t quite sure it was safe for him to drive, but it was only a five-minute drive- hence, you gave in.

“Okay,” you whispered, “I will be waiting for you.” And with that, the line went dead.

No longer than ten minutes later, you had Stiles laying on your chest, his arm hugging your torso tightly. Your room was so quiet only the sound of your breathing could be heard, which actually calmed you down to the point you were moments away from being claimed by sleep.

“Stiles?” you suddenly asked, shooting a sitting position, causing him to sit up as well. It was too dark to distinguish his features, so your hand reached to cup his face- sure enough, you felt his tears moistening your palms like they had moistened your shirt.

“What’s wrong?” you whispered. Stiles let out a whimper. “I don’t know,” he said in a broken voice- you could tell he was really trying to hold back his tears to no avail. And you couldn’t blame him. Something happened to him the night of the eclipse, something he couldn’t pinpoint, and it had visible consequences.

“Something is fucking with my mind,” he cried. You couldn’t help silently crying, too, as all you could do was hold him and whisper soothing words in his ear. “We’ll figure it out, I promise,” you kept repeating.

When you and Stiles finally calmed down, the sun could be seen rising from your window, and you were both on the verge of collapse. “I think we need to sleep,” you said softly, running your fingers through Stiles’ messy hair, though he was already half-asleep. He didn’t respond, which was your cue to finally go to sleep, too.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” was the last thing to hear before you drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

You didn’t know for how long you were asleep, but when you woke up, Stiles was nowhere to be found.