shippingwithstiles-blog
SWS Fic Recs
Stiles is one of those characters you can see with pretty much anyone in the show. Here's a place where you can find those fics and fanart that pair him with characters other than the big two, Derek and Lydia. Massive thanks to the amazing Hannah (sterekseason) for putting together our banner, icon, and blog theme!
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allison rarepair week: day five - fav heterosexual couple (stallison)
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stiles stilinski x danny mahealani
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Stoyd AU - Vernon Boyd and Stiles Stilinski are the best partners The Agency has seen in years, which is why they’re sent to catch the notorious drug lord, Deucalion.
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pairing aesthetics: stiles stilinski & isaac lahey
I grabbed some frozen strawberries so I could ice your bruisy knees, but frozen things they all unfreeze and now I taste like all those frozen strawberries I used to chill your bruisy knees. Hot July ain’t good to me; I’m pink and black and blue for you.
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AU | After sacrificing themselves to the Nemeton, Allison Argent and Stiles Stilinski begin to change slowly. Possession by a fox – Nogitsune – the McCall pack later discovers, has changed them entirely, and it’s up to the pack to try to get their friends back. No longer were they just the ‘weak humans’ of the pack, but rather the always hungry, insatiable foxes.
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top 30 teen wolf ships (as voted by my followers)
#25. Stiles & Isaac
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For Shipping With Stiles Week! It was supposed to be for the “I Kissed a Girl” theme, but it’s rather late. I usually just write Sterek, but I thought I’d try my hand at a rare pair and my favorite female pairing with Stiles, Stiles/Erica! This is canon divergent during season two where Erica and Boyd go after after Gerard Argent.
Title: Apologies
Rating: G
Word Count: 1610
Warnings: Canon-typical injuries
Also at AO3.
**********
Erica sighed in relief as her house came into view. She and Boyd were exhausted. They had escaped the Argent house hours ago and the walk home had been a slow one as they had stuck to the shadows to avoid being seen.
“You going to be okay, Erica?” Boyd asked her quietly, looking over at her with concern.
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Teen Wolf (TV), Stisaac, T, 1k, No Archive Warnings Apply
Tags: What Does The Fox Say, Stiles Stilinski is Good with Kids, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Crack, Cute Kids, Songfic, Fox Stiles, Wolf Isaac, in a costume party way, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Costumes, Isaac Lahey is Good with Kids
Summary:
Stiles’ ears are slipping, his tail is scratching his bum and his hand comes away black when he rubs at his nose.
At least Isaac has a tail as well.
Written once upon a time for my dearest @colinmorgay, who prompted “Co-stars AU” and first published here, then beta-read by the bestest @ohfuckthisshit , this fic has finally made its way to AO3 because it was the most seasonally appropriate thing I could find in my backlog of fics to be posted on AO3. Kids, animals, and Stiles and Isaac dancing and singing - what more could you want for Easter?
Happy reading and happy holidays everyone!
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Fic: The Beautiful People, Stiles/Allison/Erica
Title: The Beautiful People
Relationship: Stiles/Allison, Stiles/Allison/Erica
Rating: Explicit
WC: 4681
Summary: Stiles and Allison love each other, but they also love having sex with other people. They collect beautiful people like some people collect exes, but luckily for them, their beautiful people enjoy being collected.
For day 8 of Shipping With Stiles Week! Today’s theme is “polyamorous”. Go check out @shippingwithstiles for all the amazing fics that have been produced this week, and please make sure to reblog and comment on them. Rare pair shippers/writers don’t get near enough love-please support them!
“Her.”
Stiles glances up at the decisive tone of Allison’s voice. “Her who?”
“Her. Erica Reyes.” She gestures at the blonde across the cafeteria, perched on the end of one of the tables. Her legs are crossed at the knee and she’s bestowing a sparkling smile on one of their former conquests as she leans in and runs a crimson-tipped nail down his chest. “I want to watch you fuck her.”
“What if I want to watch you fuck her instead?” Stiles shoots back easily, casting an appraising eye over the gorgeous blonde. “She looks like the type who’d let you use your strap-on.”
Allison shrugs. “We can do both. But I want to see her spread out on your thick cock. Those lips would make the most perfect O as you make her come.”
Stiles bites back a groan. There isn’t anyone at school who doesn’t know that he and Allison like to seduce the pretty people, but moaning in the cafeteria while they scope out their next pick is a little much even for them. “Think we can make it happen for today?”
Grinning, Allison lets her smoky gaze run over him from eyes to ankles. “If not, we can always invite Jackson to join us this afternoon. He’d never say no.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Stiles mutters, flicking a glance at the man in question. He’s leaning back against his own table, bored arrogance written all over every inch of his handsome face. “It hasn’t been long enough. I don’t think he’s learned his lesson.”
“He was practically begging for your cock,” Allison counters, her gaze returning to Erica and not leaving. “He’ll behave this time, if he wants another shot at it.”
“Let’s see what Erica has to say before we start thinking about bringing Jackson back in,” Stiles suggests, trying to school the expression of irritation that wants to spread across his face. The idea of fucking Jackson again, while appealing from a sexual satisfaction point of view, is enough to make him crabby.
Jackson is one of the few who isn’t outwardly kind of terrified of them, the only one who scoffs when someone whispers about Allison hospitalizing a kid who insulted Stiles, or at the rumor that went around about Stiles killing someone who slapped Allison’s ass. Not that he wouldn’t have wanted to if something like that happened, but Allison wouldn’t need him to do it for her. Jackson mostly rolls his eyes at the gossiping, but it’s partly because he was one of Stiles’ and Allison’s favored playthings for awhile and knows that all the rumors are complete bullshit, even though Allison has fun playing them up.
Stiles still regrets having had to give him up. His ass was perfect, so tight and needy, and he gave head like it gave him life. Allison enjoyed him too, until he got too clingy and possessive and they had to focus their attentions in other areas. Ever since they parted ways, Jackson has been a raging dick to them at school and it pisses Stiles off. He’s not willing to give him a second chance yet.
In a smooth, fluid motion, Allison rises from their table, Stiles following just as gracefully. He falls into step with Allison as they make their way across the cafeteria, and he can hear the murmurs start. Everyone is just waiting to see who they approach.
“Hey there,” Allison purrs, sitting down next to the guy Erica is playing with. They’d toyed with him once, but he had terrible stamina and couldn’t make Allison come, so they’d said goodbye half an hour after saying hello.
The guy-Jake, Stiles recalls after a moment-shifts his attention from Erica’s legs to Allison’s. “Hey, Alli. Stiles,” he adds as an afterthought, and Stiles makes a face at him. “You here for a replay? Because Erica here has some really sexy ideas, and we’d love to have you join us.” He looks at Stiles with a fake-apologetic smile. “Allison, anyway. Sorry, Stiles.”
Stiles doesn’t even bother to respond, just smiles slowly as Allison giggles in delight. “Jake, we’re not here for you. We’re here for her.” She winks at Erica, who’s been watching the exchange in amusement. “I’m Allison. That’s Stiles.” Stiles lifts a hand and waves briefly.
“I’ve heard of you,” Erica acknowledges, lips curling predatorily, and Stiles feels his dick hardening. They like pretty people, but they rarely come across dangerous pretty people, and now he’s even more excited about Allison’s choice for today. “What makes you think I want to be one of your toys?”
“Because we’re very good to our toys,” Allison replies sweetly. “And our toys love being played with as much as we love playing with them.”
“And trust me, we love playing with our toys,” Stiles adds, voice rough and eyes dark. “A lot.”
He can tell that that curiosity is sparking Erica’s interest, but apparently so can Jake. “C’mon, Erica. We were already talking, don’t let these two railroad you into joining them. It’s not the great experience they like to act like it is.”
Allison snorts delicately. “Erica, you don’t have to join us ever if you don’t want to, but spare yourself this disappointing ride.”
“He’s a two-pump chump who couldn’t get Alli off a single time,” Stiles adds, scoffing. Allison nods, her lips turned down into a sad frown. Jake’s face is turning bright red and Erica glances from Stiles to Allison to Jake.
“Where should I meet you after school?” she asks finally. Stiles and Allison trade triumphant glances. Bingo.
Read the rest on AO3!
#stiles/allison#stiles/allison/erica#stallison#stallerica#nsfw#swsweek2017#length: under 5k#rating: explicit
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Stuck On You
******
“Stiles, what did you do to my car?”
“You know, Der,” Stiles says with feigned offense, practically skidding to a stop in the parking lot outside Derek’s house, “I am hurt that you’d just automatically assume it was me.” His poorly suppressed grin proudly announces his total lack of innocence.
Derek raises an unimpressed eyebrow and uncrosses his arms to gesture at the rear window of his car with an annoyed flick of his wrist.
Decorating the glass is a small army of stick people bearing a variety of accessories, one obnoxious figure for each member of the pack.
“Come on, big guy, I know you love the gas mileage or whatever, but you’ve gotta admit the hot soccer dad mobile isn’t as sexy as the Camaro was. It needed a little something. So I bought you a present.” Stiles’ is beaming and casually leaning into Derek’s space.
“And the stick with the tail that says ‘Dad’ under it? That’s supposed to be me?” Derek is still pissed, his inflection incredulous, but Stiles can see a hint of amusement in the way his lips twitch and his eyebrows tilt out of a furrow.
Stiles’ grin grows even wider. “Well, obviously.” When Derek scowls, he adds “Come on, Der, if parent teacher conferences were still a thing in college, you know you’re the one that would get called in when our little delinquents misbehaved.” Derek’s brow quirks at the use of ‘our’, but Stiles doesn’t seem to have noticed it. “And the pu- the kids all go to you for help with their cars, you help pay their tuition, you intimidate all of Isaac’s potential dates. You’re like, their wolf papa.”
Despite Stiles’ absolutely gleeful explanation, Derek remains unmoved. He darts another glance at the rear window and looks back at Stiles with a gleam in his eye that makes Stiles squirm.
“So, if I’m the pack dad, what does that make you?”
Stiles rubs at the back of his neck and shuffles his feet. “Me? I’m just the human.” It sounds like a question, but Derek ignores it.
“I mean, the kids, as you called them, go to you for life advice, and help with classes, and to complain about me. You all make cookies together, and when they need reassurance about non-werewolf stuff, you’re who they call first. That sounds like maybe you’re the pack mom, Stiles.” Derek is openly grinning now, Stiles’ discomfort making the corners of his mouth twitch like he’s fighting a laugh.
Stiles’ reaction is immediate and spectacular. “Hey!” he yells, full of indignation. “First of all, that is some gender stereotype bullshit you just said, Hale. Second, my cookies are amazing, and I don’t hear you complaining about them while you practically inhale them on movie night! And C, you should be so lucky!”
Derek’s smile has reached frankly unsettling proportions. “So, our little sticks aren’t holding hands because you want to raise three rambunctious werewolves together? Or do you just want to role-play?”
Stiles’ mouth opens to argue, but no words come out for a long moment. “Holding- we aren’t…Role-play! Wha-” he looks closer at the stick figures that span most of the rear window, and visibly deflates, muttering a seething “Goddammit, Erica.”
“I didn’t do that.” Stiles says lamely, gesturing vaguely at where the wolf-man and the police officer (Stiles projected a few years into the future for his stick) are most definitely attached at their tiny circular hands.
Derek takes a step closer, cocky smile melting into something softer as he gets closer to Stiles. “So, this wasn’t your completely obnoxious way of asking me out?”
“No! I would ne- wait. What?” Stiles’ eyes narrow in confusion and Derek tries and fails not to find it adorable.
They’re practically chest to chest now, and looking right into each other’s eyes, Stiles’ breath is coming slightly fast, and his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. Derek follows the movement deliberately, letting Stiles take in how Derek’s eyes trace along Stiles’ mouth. “Stiles,” Derek says softly, somehow managing to make it sound like a fond ‘Come on, don’t be stupid’. His eyebrows are raised encouragingly, urging Stiles’ brain to connect the dots.
Stiles’ eyes search Derek’s face, and when Derek settles a hand tentatively on Stiles’ hip, Stiles breathes out a soft “Oh” and smiles.
“Yeah, Stiles, ‘Oh’. Welcome to the conversation.”
Stiles shoves playfully at Derek’s shoulder, then decides to leave his hand there. “Derek?” he says seriously, “Do you want to hold hands with me?” Derek laughs and presses the sound of it into Stiles’ mouth. When they pull away several minutes later, both slightly dazed, a look of dawning realization crosses Stiles’ face. “And I am most definitely not going to call you ‘Daddy’ like, ever.”
This time, Derek’s laugh is too much to muffle with a kiss, but his eventual “Thank god” is mostly lost when Stiles pulls him closer.
*****
A/N: I could not for the life of me find a good stick figure family maker, so I will probably draw the rest of the pack if you all want to see what everyone else is accessorized with. What do you think?
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Today is the last day of Shipping With Stiles Week 2017! Thank you so much to everyone who participated and contributed more Stiles rare pair fics to our fandom. I’ll be creating a master post of all the fics posted this week so it’s easy to find everything.
If you posted something for SWS Week and we haven’t reblogged it, it’s because it didn’t show up in the tag, so please let me know! Submit it, send me an ask, a chat message, whatever works. I’ll get it reblogged as soon as I can.
If you haven’t had a chance to read through our great fics, please make sure to do so! Reblog, add comments, and let our authors know how much they’re appreciated for writing Stiles rare pairs.
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Bring a Wild Man Back Home (Stiles/Parrish)
It’s still Thursday in a small part of the world, so here’s my contribution for day 6 ( How to Kiss a Boy - Stiles/male) of Shipping With Stiles Week 2017! Also, surprise - I wrote a non-Sterek fic! ;)
Bring a Wild Man Back Home | Stiles/Parrish | Explicit | 4k | Also on AO3
Stiles ran through the preserve, losing himself in the peacefulness of the early morning and the steady rhythm of his shoes pounding in the dirt. He was alone, on a seldom-used trail that was closed to the general public (and far away from the nemeton), and the weather couldn’t have been better. A smile flirted with the corners of his mouth as he thought back to his high school days, when he could barely run laps at lacrosse practice without upchucking or passing out. Oh, how he’d changed.
Without the same distractions that had plagued him through high school, Stiles had managed to get his bachelor’s in computer science in three years, then stayed at GWU for another three years to get a master’s in digital forensics.
Knowing he’d need to pass the FBI physical fitness test, but with no experience in any of the university’s D1 sports, Stiles had opted for club lacrosse and Brazilian jiu-jitsu instead, and he’d flirted his way through enough personal training sessions at the gym to learn what he needed to get fit. By the time he was ready to apply to the FBI, Stiles had been in the best shape of his life.
That, along with his impressive grades, his analytical mind, and the tentative affiliation he’d managed to forge with Scott’s dad, had helped Stiles make it through the FBI’s rigorous application and testing process. It had been rough, but he’d succeeded. Any time he’d even remotely considered giving up, Stiles had resorted to the memory of his dad openly weeping when Stiles had gotten his master’s, hugging him fiercely, barely able to choke out an I’m so proud of you.
He’d managed to mostly avoid Beacon Hills while he was in college and at the academy. It felt good to get away, to start a new life somewhere else, in a place where he wasn’t haunted by the ghosts of high school past. He’d even gotten in touch with Derek, who’d given him the number of a supernatural-savvy therapist in Rosslyn. She’d practically worked miracles for Stiles, mentally preparing him for college and beyond, and had never asked for payment. (A few years later, Derek had admitted what Stiles always suspected - that he’d covered the cost of Stiles’ sessions.)
After being assigned to the San Francisco field office, though, Stiles had run out of excuses for avoiding Beacon Hills. His work with the cyber division kept him busy, as did getting himself set up in his new apartment and getting acquainted with the city, but he could only put off the visit for so long. He made his dad promise not to tell anyone he was coming back. He wanted to ease into it, see people from his past on his own terms.
It wasn’t that he was avoiding anyone, except that he was. He didn’t particularly want to see Scott or anyone else from the McCall pack, though he knew it would have to happen at some point. Scott would smell Derek on him. Okay, and Isaac. And Jackson and Cora. Then he’d have to admit that after reconnecting with Derek, they’d become close during Stiles’ early college years. The two of them had been able to persuade the rest of Derek’s ragtag pack to return from around the globe, and they’d solidified the bond that they should’ve had in the first place.
The five of them had lived together in DC for as long as Stiles was there, and then when Stiles got his post-Quantico assignment, they’d made the cross-country trek together. They lived in the same building (which Derek bought, because Derek), but in separate apartments, in Sausalito. After all, though both of them had matured, there was still no way Stiles would be able to share a place with Jackson. He shuddered at the thought, but couldn’t help grinning about how far all of them had come.
He was almost back to the parking area when he felt that familiar tingle at the nape of his neck, the one that developed during full moon outings with the rest of the Hale pack, the one that told him he was no longer alone in the woods. Stiles fought the instinctive urge to look back over his shoulder, not wanting to give in to the underlying paranoia that came with being back in the preserve. He wasn’t that kid anymore.
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ash and dust - (Scott/Stiles/Boyd)
written for day 6 of the shipping with stiles week with the theme Stiles/male. I decided on writing a V, with Stiles/Scott and Stiles/Boyd.
tags: gunshot wounds, mild gore and violence, mild angst.
***
Boyd’s there when Stiles wakes up.
He’s hunched over the bed, hands clasped around one of Stiles’ own. It’s dark and quiet, just the steady beeping of one of the monitors interrupting the silence. Moonlight trickles in through the blinds, pouring over Boyd’s still form, and it helps Stiles to relax again, even as fire shoots through his leg.
He’s been in hospitals enough times that he instantly recognizes the sterile smell and the itchy sensation of the blanket. But he can’t really remember what happened this time to land him here.
He moves again, trying to ease his discomfort, and a grunt escapes him at the fresh flare of pain. It’s only a quiet sound, but it makes Boyd stir; he sits up slowly, rubbing a hand across his eyes before looking at Stiles.
“Hey,” he says softly, smiling slightly. “You’re awake.”
Stiles smiles back, tired but happy to see his boyfriend’s face. “Yeah. What happened?”
He doesn’t know if the pain is showing on his face, but Boyd strokes his thumb over Stiles’ knuckles, dark veins scoring up his arms as he takes some of the pain.
“You were shot,” he murmurs. “Talking down those hunters didn’t go so well, huh?”
Stiles drops his head back against the pillow. He remembers, vaguely, him and Scott running, his hand locked tightly in Scott’s so he doesn’t trip or stumble in the dark. He remembers the pop of the gun going off and the way it felt like the bullet slammed into his thigh, sending him straight down to the ground, but he can’t remember much after that, just…pain.
He turns his head to look at Boyd. He’s always been pretty quiet, but Stiles can see what he’s feeling in the gentle downturn of his mouth, in the way he’s gripping Stiles’ hand. He’d been worried.
“Where’s Scott?”
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The Real You
Summary: Danny doesn’t have a crush on Stiles. No way.
Notes: Another one for @inell, who wanted Stiles/Danny and “be nice to your seat partner, they might just be your future spouse!” This is an AU where nothing supernatural happened in Beacon Hills. (On AO3)
Danny always hates the start of every school year. There’s a new schedule to learn, a new locker to find, and an influx of baby-faced freshman wandering around. There are also new teachers, new classes, and most importantly, new seating assignments.
He has to stifle a groan when he discovers that his desk-mate for English is none other than Stilinski. He’s weird and awkward, and only ever seems to hang out with his one dorky friend. Danny does not need him bringing down his reputation.
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title: Nightcall [ao3: here]
main pairing: Jordan Parrish/Stiles Stilinski
rating: Teen (implied sexual content)
word count: ~1700 words
written for: for day 6 (Stiles/male) of Shipping With Stiles 2017 (hunters are totally law enforcement) and for the ‘Jordan Parrish’ square on my Rare Character Bingo Card!
summary: The one where on-duty phone sex is almost a thing, but a collapsing shelf gets in the way.
Jordan can count on one hand the number of times he’s worked a quiet night shift since moving to Beacon Hills.
Even in the dead of night, when the sky is black and the denizens of the town should be enjoying a deep sleep, there’s usually something happening in town, some form of chaos that has Jordan out of the station and into the streets. Sometimes, the chaos is supernatural in nature, like the time where a witch had decided that three o'clock in the morning was a great time to come out of the woods and start casting love spells on the town. Sometimes, the chaos is entirely human in nature, brought on strong emotions and easy access to weaponry.
(Jordan would rather take supernatural creatures over the latter any day.)
But sometimes, while they’re few and far between, Beacon Hills actually has a quiet night.
Those are the nights Jordan cherishes.
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Lucky (Allison/Stiles/Isaac)
Lucky. Allison/Stiles/Isaac. Teen. Also on AO3.
Stiles and Isaac like to bicker, and Allison thinks they both need to grow up.
Filling out reports is the worst part of the job.
The academy doesn’t prepare anyone for the sheer amount of nonsensical paperwork that is required with every dispatch, and the arrests require even more. Sometimes, Stiles watches Criminal Minds and wonders if his life would be paperwork free if he’d actually gone into the FBI training program like he’d planned his entire life. Of course, a television show that has a prevalence of crimes against women isn’t the best example of reality, so he’s probably lucky he joined the SFPD instead.
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title: bite down, bite down (into me) [ao3: here]
main pairing: Allison Argent/Stiles Stilinski
rating: Explicit
warnings for: explicit sexual content, biting kink, dark!Allison and dark!Stiles, references to blood and (sort of) knifeplay.
word count: ~1000 words
written for: the hunter au’ square on my Teen Wolf Bingo card, for day 5 (law enforcement au) of Shipping With Stiles 2017 (hunters are totally law enforcement) and for rounds_of_kink over at LJ.
Allison Argent is the furthest thing from a werewolf.
But you wouldn’t know that from how she eagerly sinks her teeth into Stiles’ flesh.
He’s been marked before, by other lovers; countless others have left dark collars of bruises and hickies around his pale throat, have littered his body with indentations of their teeth, indentations that swelled and leaked trickles of blood. Others have scored their fingernails down his back until he was striped with welts, until it looked like he’d been whipped. He’s always encouraged that behavior, encouraged people to go harder, dig in deeper, until there was blood between their teeth and underneath their nails and coursing down his skin, until it looked like he’d been up against a werewolf and lost.
Allison is the first person he hasn’t had to encourage.
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