Braeden/Derek/Stiles - Secret Admirer with Stiles receiving the gifts from Braeden/Derek together
Braeden/Derek Hale/Stiles StilinskiRating: G, Word Count: 1301Future Fic, Secret Admirer, Getting Together, Polyamory, POV Stiles♥Read on AO3
Stiles dumps his bag and books by his desk, thencarefully puts the package on his bed before climbing up.
‘You getanother one?’ Louis, his roommate, asks.
‘Yep.’ Stiles hastily straightens hissheets, then sits down, the package in front of him.
‘The factthat you’re not worried about it beinga creepy stalker worries me,’ Louiscontinues. ‘More for my safety thanyours, because if that’s yourattitude once you’re an FBI agent, we’re screwed.’
Stiles rolls his eyes, but otherwise ignores the comment.Louis has been saying that since the first package arrived.
A couple weeks into his second year at GWU, he got apackage with no sender, just the address of the post office it was sent from.There was a keychain in it, a hand carved little bat, and a note that read “thinking of you”. Yes, it should’ve been creepy, but Stiles was kindof touched. And the gifts kept coming. They’realways thoughtful, little things that Stiles doesn’t really need, like another Batman mug or pictures ofclouds in weird shapes. Little things you’d get apartner, just because you’rethinking of them. It’s niceto know there’s someone out there thinkingof him like that, even if he doesn’t knowwho it is. Plus, the gifts have never actually been creepy, no locks of hair,dead animals, or notes written in blood.
He opens the package to find another package inside,wrapped in sparkly purple wrapping paper. When he opens that, a soft, bluescarf falls out—it looks handknit. Stileswraps it around his neck. It’sgetting colder out and he really needed a new scarf. As always, there’s also a note.
‘Oh god,’ Stiles squeaks when he reads it.
Want to meet? Lookfor the origami rose made of this wrapping paper at George’s Java,Saturday (the 29th), at 3PM
‘Did itfinally get creepy?’ Louis asks, sounding alittle too eager. The bed creaks as he jumps up the ladder to get a look at thepresent. ‘Oh,’ he huffs disappointedly when he sees the scarf.
‘Theywant to meet.’ Stiles holds up the note.
‘You’re not actually thinking of going,are you?’ Louis asks. ‘I just got used to you, I don’t want to have to deal with a newroommate.’
Stiles glares at Louis, but he can see real concern onhis face.
‘I don’t know. I kind of want to know who itis. It’s been killing me, notknowing.’
‘I’ve seen the notebook,’ Louis reminds him.
So, yeah, there might be a notebook with theories on whoStiles’ secret admirer is, full ofneat lists and grafts and sticky notes. So far, the conclusion is that he hasno fucking idea.
‘Youwant me to come with you? Because you really shouldn’t go alone,’ Louiscontinues.
Stiles thinks it over. Louis is a big guy, though a bigsofty at heart, and intimidating enough to make anyone who wants to hurt himthink twice. But Stiles has other options before possibly putting a human indanger.
He holds up his hand, telling Louis to give him a sec,then pulls out his phone.
To Sour Wolf:What are you doing Saturday?
Derek replies almost immediately
From Sour Wolf:Why?
To Sour Wolf:Remember that secret admirer? They want to meet
This time, it takes a little longer before Derek answers.
From Sour Wolf:I can’t, butBraeden’s free
To Sour Wolf:Even better
From Sour Wolf:I thought so
Stiles quickly messages Braeden with the details, thenturns back to Louis.
‘I gotsomeone else.’
‘Andthey’re better than me?’ Louis asks, affronted, flexing hisbiceps.
‘Shecarries a gun and I’ve seen her take out guystwice your size with her bare hands, so yeah,’ Stilessays.
‘Goodpoint,’ Louis nods. He climbs downand sits back at his desk. ‘But ifyou need me, I’ll be there.’
‘Thanks,dude.’
~
Come Saturday, Stiles feels like he’s about to explode with nerves. Hekeeps tugging at his new scarf, praying that his admirer isn’t dreaming of strangling him with it.
‘Stopthat,’ Braeden says. She reachesout and squeezes his hand. ‘Everythingwill be fine.’
‘Butwhat if–‘
‘Theentire pack, plus your roommate and Agent McCall, knows where we are. It’s a public place, one frequented bypeople who always have their phones in their hands.’ She squeezes his hand again. ‘And if they turn out to be an asshole, I’ll happily kick their ass for you.’
‘Thanks,’ Stiles squeezes her hand back. Helooks at her, and his chest feels a little tight. He quickly pulls his handback and stuffs it in his coat pocket.
Maybe asking Braeden, or Derek, to come with him was abad idea. Last summer, they’d spenta lot of time together, gotten a lot closer, and, well, Stiles may havedeveloped feelings. Or not so much “developed” as getting smacked in the face withthem. He’d been relieved when he’d gone back to the east coast,creating a little distance, but he soon realized his crush could be sustainedquite easily over text. When the first package of his secret admirer arrived,Stiles clung to it like it was a lifeline. Because what else are you supposedto when you’re falling in love with two ofyour best friends who are in a relationship together?
And now he’s goingto meet them, his secret admirer, and all he can think about is how Braeden’s hand felt in his.
‘Youready?’ Braeden asks when theyarrive at the coffee shop.
Stiles nods. The bell over the door feels like an omen.Though he doesn’t know if it’s good or bad.
He looks around the coffee shop, scanning the tables,searching for the purple flower. He doesn’t find it,but he does find someone else.
‘Derek?’
‘Hey.’ Derek waves him over.
‘What’s going on?’ Stiles asks as he sits down across from Derek.
Derek moves his coffee cup, and slides a purple origamiflower to the centre of the table. Braeden drops down in the seat next to Derek’s.
Everything falls into place in Stiles’ head. With the two of them travelingso much, they could easily go to New York every once in a while to send Stileshis gifts. The sender seemed to know Stiles really well, to a degree that only thepack really does.
Stiles’shoulders slump in disappointment, and hurt. At least Derek must’ve guessed at his feelings, right?Stiles has never been good at hiding them. Why would they mess with him likethis?
‘We’re not messing with you,’ Derek says, like he can read Stiles’ mind.
‘You’re not?’ Stileslooks up at his friends. They’re bothsmiling at him, soft and beautiful.
‘Wewouldn’t do that to you,’ Braeden adds. ‘We like you too much for that.’
‘Are youserious?’ Stiles has to ask.
‘I don’t make scarves for just anyone,’ Braeden says.
Stiles fiddles with the scarf, looking down at the table.When he looks back up again, his face feels like it’s about to split in two from how wide he’s smiling.
‘Ireally like the scarf,’ hesays. ‘And you. I really like youtwo, too.’
Derek pushes a piece of pie and a cup of coffee in frontof Stiles. ‘Well, thank god for that,because else this could’vebecome really awkward.’
Stiles kicks Derek’s shinunder the table.
‘Thatwas me,’ Braeden deadpans.
Stiles grimaces. ‘Youalready said you liked me. No take-backs.’
Braeden and Derek look at each other for a moment, doingsome silent couple’s communicating that Stilescan’t wait to get in on, then Braedenreaches over and grabs Stiles’ hand,sliding her fingers between his.
Braeden/Derek Hale/Stiles StilinskiRating: G, Word Count: 794Fluff, Snow Angels, Established Relationship, Snow, POV Derek
Derek wakes up to an empty bed. That doesn’t happen very often, or ever, since Stiles moved in with him and Braeden. He sits up, feeling a little disoriented, and slides out of bed, grabbing a sweater from the floor as he makes his way out of the bedroom. There’s a draft coming from somewhere so he quickly puts some socks on as well.
When he reaches the living room, it’s not only clear where the draft is coming from, but also where his partners have disappeared to. The backdoor is open and laughter floats in from the backyard. Shaking his head, but smiling, Derek steps outside.
‘Oh my god,’ he breathes out in awe. Everything is covered in a thick layer of snow. It had started snowing a little last night, but Derek hadn’t thought it would be enough for much more than slippery sidewalks.
‘Derek!’
‘You’re awake!’
Stiles and Braeden’s voices are coming from somewhere below him. Derek looks down over the porch railing, and finds them both spreadeagled in the snow.
‘Come make snow angels with us!’ Stiles grins, moving his arms up and down, his eyes closed like it’s the most blissful feeling in the world.
‘No thanks,’ Derek laughs. ‘Prefer to stay warm. And dry.’
‘Is it because you don’t know how to?’ Braeden teases. ‘We can teach you. It’s not very hard. Literal toddlers can do it.’
‘I’m still in my pyjamas!’
‘So are we,’ Stiles says, pointing to his and Braeden’s legs.
Derek raises his eyebrows in disbelief. It looks like they barely took the time to put on shoes and coats before jumping into the snow. Their coats are open and their shoes untied. Their pyjama bottoms are soaking wet and sticking to their legs.
‘I think he needs some help,’ Stiles smirks at Braeden.
Before Derek can move, Stiles and Braeden are up and wrestling him into the snow.
‘You take his arms! I’ll take his legs!’ Braeden shouts.
The struggle is short, but vicious. They all fight dirty, but no one fights dirtier than Braeden. She throws a hand of snow in Derek’s face, then swipes his legs out from under him. Derek lands on his back, gasping at the sudden cold, and before he can recover and scramble back up, Stiles is sitting on his chest and Braeden on his hips.
‘Now, Der, you stretch out your arms and move them up and down,’ Stiles instructs. He wraps his hands around Derek’s biceps and starts moving them up and down. There’s a smirk on his lips that Derek really wants to wipe off, but his arms are pinned and Stiles isn’t leaning down far enough for a kiss.
Hands are also gripping his thighs, guiding him to open and close his legs.
‘That’s it, Derek!’ Braeden praises. ‘Now let’s see if you can do it by yourself.’
‘I’ll give you a kiss for it,’ Stiles offers when Derek stops moving the moment their hands disappear.
‘It had better be a damn good kiss,’ Derek mutters. He moves his arms and legs a couple more times, snow melting into his clothes and cooling his skin with every movement.
‘I’m so proud of you,’ Stiles says, and leans down.
Derek grabs a handful of snow and shoves it into the back of Stiles coat before their lips touch. Stiles yelps and rolls off Derek’s chest. Braeden is sitting with her back to Derek, so she doesn’t realize what is happening until it’s too late. Derek grabs another handful of snow, sits up, and shoves it down the front of Braeden’s shirt.
‘Oh my god! You froze my boobs!’ she yells. She tries to get away, but Derek has his arms wrapped around her waist.
‘Careful! You’ll ruin our angels!’ Stiles yells.
Derek rolls his eyes, but stands up carefully, a kicking and squirming Braeden in his arms. He steps out of his own angel, circumvents the ones Braeden and Stiles made, and finds a fresh patch of snow. When he drops Braeden, she immediately rolls onto her back and starts making another angel, a devilish grin on her face.
‘You are so wei– Ooph!’
Derek hits the snow again, this time with Stiles’ arms around his waist. No wonder Braeden had been grinning like that.
By the time their entire backyard is covered with snow angels, and there is no room left for any more, they’re all freezing. Derek’s fingers feel stiff, Stiles’ cheeks and nose are bright red, and Braeden’s lips look a little blue.
‘Warm clothes, and then you make the hot chocolate, and Braeden and I will get the blankets?’ Derek suggests to Stiles as they make their way back into the house.
‘Hot chocolate for breakfast,’ Braeden cheers through chattering teeth.
@nevergooutofstiles asked for Braeden/Derek/Stiles with America’s Sweetheart - Elle King
Braeden/Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Rating:G, Word Count: 733
Fluff, Polyamory, Fluff Without Plot, POV Stiles
♥
Read On AO3
Stiles stands frozen, unable to take his eyes off the scene in the kitchen. When he regains the use of his limbs, he backs away carefully, making no sound on his stockinged feet, back to the bedroom.
‘Braeden,’ Stiles hisses in her ear and pokes her in her side.
He should know better. He should know better than to startle awake a US Marshall turned supernatural bounty hunter. Braeden slams her forearm against his chest, pushing Stiles into the mattress, then swings one leg over his waist so she’s straddling him. In the flurry of movement she even manages to get hold of Stiles’ wrists and pins them over his head.
‘Morning, babe,’ Stiles grins up at her. She hates it when he calls her that.
Braeden rolls her eyes, but still presses a quick kiss to his forehead. ‘Why are you waking me up at—’ she squints at the clock ’—eight in the morning on a Saturday? Damn it, Stiles!’
‘It’s not my fault! Derek is freaking me out,’ Stiles protests.
Braeden only now seems to notice that their boyfriend is missing from the bed. She lets go of Stiles, jumping off him and out of bed. Stiles scrambles after her, then grabs her wrist to pull her to the kitchen.
Braeden goes completely still when she sees what is happening in the kitchen.
Derek is dancing. To a song. On the radio. It doesn’t end there, though, he’s singing and whistling along to it.
‘What do you want from me. I'm not America's sweetheart. But you love me anyway.’
‘What’s he doing?’ Braeden whispers, pulling Stiles out of hearing distance from Derek.
‘I think he’s making breakfast muffins.’
‘Hmm.’ Braeden sneaks forward again to watch Derek. Stiles is right behind her, pressing himself against her back to look over her shoulder.
‘My kind of medicine is whiskey straight. I got a mouth to put you in your place, and they. They said I'll never be the poster type. But they don't make posters of my kind of life.’
Stiles watches in fascination as Derek sways his hips from side to side in time with the music. He always knew Derek would have moves.
‘So kick out the jams, kick up the soul.’
Derek places the tray with the muffins in the oven, and kicks the door shut. He presses start, then turns to look directly at Stiles and Braeden, raising his eyebrows.
‘Pour another glass of that rock and roll. Turn up the band, fire in the hole. Gonna lose control tonight.’
Waggling his eyebrows, Derek dances towards them. Stiles can’t help smiling at the ridiculous sight. Braeden huffs out a fond laugh. When he reaches them, Derek grabs one hand from each of them, pulls them into the kitchen, and twirls them. Braeden easily spins underneath Derek’s arm, but Stiles is too tall and has to hunch to avoid hitting Derek’s arm with his head. Stiles can’t hold in his laughter.
And just like that, Stiles gets it. He gets why Derek is like this, right now, because Stiles is feeling the same, almost overwhelming, happiness. It makes him feel light, and safe, and giddy
On the next twirl, Stiles trips over his own feet and crashes into Derek’s chest. Derek fumbles to keep them upright. Braeden’s loud laughter fills the kitchen, when she is the one that ends up holding them both up.
‘So how long until those muffins are done?’ Braeden asks, as Stiles and Derek find their footing again.
‘Twenty five minutes. And then they have to cool down for a bit before we can eat them.’
‘Then we can dance a little longer,’ Braeden grins. She pulls Derek against her chest, grabbing Stiles’ t-shirt to pull him against her back, with her other hand.
Stiles immediately nuzzles into her hair. She smells nice, like sleep and the fresh sheets they had to put on last night. When he lifts his head, Braeden quickly turns her head to plant a kiss against his cheek. Stiles catches Derek’s eye, and the other man looks so soft, hair still sleep mussed and a smile on his face, that Stiles’ heart stumbles.
They’re not swaying to the music, really. It’s just a slow, private sway, disconnected from anything else in the universe. It’s just for them.
‘You love me anyway. You love me anyway. I’m not America’s sweetheart.’
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Braeden/Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
♥
Rating: T, Word Count:1372
♥
College AU, Pining Stiles, Past Jackson/Stiles, Established Braeden/Derek, Fake/Pretend Relationship, kind of
When Stiles needs an escape from an ex-boyfriend, he grabs onto the first kind stranger, which just happens to be Braeden, who just happens to be dating the guy Stiles is crushing on.
Braeden watches with more than a little amusement as the guy in front of her starts patting his pockets in panic.
‘Shit,’ the guy mutters under his breath, then looks up with wide eyes as the person in front of him moves away from the register. ‘Fuck.’ He looks up at Braeden, golden-brown eyes wide and sheepish. ‘You go first. I seem to have misplaced my wallet.’
(For Teen Wolf Polyamory Week - Day 3: Fave Trope)
at some point I would like to try my hand at writing steraeden
at the moment I’m laser-focused on getting the 4th draft of my first original novel into shape for self-publishing and I’ve got another ship’s valentine’s exchange thing I’m signed up for but I’m still kind of hoping to come across some irresistible fic idea I just have to write
