Teen Wolf Texts (Sterek And Scisaac Fluff)

Stiles POV

Stiles had no idea what he was doing.

He should've called Lydia. Hell, calling anyone would've been smart, because then they would've told Lydia, and she'd fix it.

But no, instead, he'd decided to storm out of his boyfriends house at midnight, break into his dad's house, and have an anxiety attack on the kitchen floor.

"Stiles?" His dad mumbled, sitting up from the couch and confusedly looking at him.

Just great.

"Hi,"

"You okay?"

"Fine. Just... Needed some quiet,"

His dad approached him and knelt down.

"Are you..."

"You already asked if I was okay. I'm fine. Didn't think you'd be home."

"Did Derek..." His dad trailed off. Stiles scrunched up his face.

"Did he what?"

"Did he... Uhm..."

Stiles eyes widened a little in disbelief as he looked down at his lap and chuckled to himself.

"Are you serious? No, dad, Derek Hale isn't- Virgin, okay? My purity is intact,"

"Oh. Good,"

"I just... Messed up. A bit. And walked out. So i'm- I just need to think,"

"Okay,"

"I'm gonna," Stiles stood up and gestured to the stairs. "Go and..."

"Okay," his dad nodded and let Stiles walk past him.

Stiles was relieved to find that his room was the same way he left it and plopped down facefirst into his pillow. He let out a muffled yell of agony. Why did he have to be so stupid?

His phone rang. Lydia. He answered with a reluctant sigh.

"Hey Red,"

"Peter says you ran off,"

"I didn't run o- Yeah," he suddenly decided on giving in to Lydia and just telling her whatever she asked. Honestly, telling her the truth was easier in the long run anyways.

"Why?"

"Derek and I had a spat,"

"About?"

"Nnn,"

"Stiles. Come on,"

"Bite,"

"You asked him to turn you?!"

"Yeah,"

"Why?!"

"Tired of- I dunno. I'm just tired,"

"And you thought the bite would help?"

"Something has to, eventually. This just seemed quicker. Easier,"

There was an audible switching of gears in Lydia's voice.

"I'm coming."

"You don't know where I-"

"Where else would you go, honey? I'm on my way,"

"Why?"

"I don't want you to hurt yourself,"

"I won't..." He stopped and sighed. "Okay,"

"Okay,"

Lydia arrived surprisingly quick and didn't even bother knocking before walking into Stiles' house and going into his room.

"Hey," she said when she saw him face down in his bed.

"Hey," he said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"You okay buddy?" She asked, sitting down next to him and setting a hand on his back. Stiles sat up and put his head on her stomach.

"I don't know what's wrong with me,"

"Nothing's wrong with you,"

"I just. Werewolf. I could be a werewolf. A good werewolf. And Derek could... I dunno. It'd be easier for him if I wasn't human. And I feel like if I wasn't I would feel better,"

"Why would it make you feel better?"

"I don't know. Change. Purpose,"

"You have a purpose,"

"I guess,"

Lydia rubbed his shoulders and sighed.

"Any boy troubles?"

"Yeah. No. I dunno. I feel like we've gotten past the stage of interesting. Like, he'll lose interest in me. Or has already. And he's too nice to me,"

"It'll be alright, darlin'. It'll be alright,"

And it was weird, because Stiles believed her. He felt safe with her. She was like the older sibling he'd tried to make Scott into (Scott was like a brother, but the kind of sibling who you "get in trouble with" instead of the kind you "go to with your troubles"). Lydia was pretty much his mother at this point, which was weird and sad and kindof scary, but she was.

"You got quiet," she stated. "Stop thinking. Go to sleep,"

"You go to sleep," he said in a half ass attempt at a comeback. She snorted and playfully pushed his head with her palm.

"Dork,"

"Spoon,"

"What?"

"You call me a fork, I call you a spoon!"

"I said dork. With a D,"

"Good. Cos I have a D,"

"Yeah, but you're gettin' no F right?"

"Oh! Oh that was such a burn! Uh! I don't think i'll recover from that!"

"I'm a sassmaster,"

"Mhm,"

"Go to sleep,"

"I caaaaaaaan't," he whined. "Too much stuff in my brain circuits,"

She reached over to the edge of the bed and pulled a book out of it.

"Luckily, I came prepared for that scenario,"

"You can't read me to sleep, i'm a grown-"

"You're seventeen. Now shut up and let me read you some quality literature,"

Stiles smiled and nodded against her stomach.

"Good. “In my younger and more vulnerable years, my father gave me some wisdom which i've been turning over in my head ever since...”"

Stiles fell asleep six pages later.