Stiles loved to write. He could go on hours in his room writing down ideas for new stories. Some of the stories he wrote expressed his inner feelings and showed what kind of   person he really was. Stiles had thought about publishing them after each piece was finished but he was too nervous.

He was afraid that he would be judged and ridiculed for his writing. Stiles was aware that he could publish them on the internet under a false name but that wasn’t the thing he was worried about. The things that worried him were whether people liked his work, he thought that what if one day this person came- or worse, more- and wrote a comment on how horrible his writing was, how they didn’t think he was fit for writing, or if he made a grammatical error and would be called an idiot for it.   

It just put him under pressure.

There was this one man Stiles liked to write about. He would make him the star of his work because of how brilliantly amazing Stiles thought he was; Peter Hale.

When he wrote intense love stories, Peter was the handsome man featuring them. He never really liked writing heterosexual relationships, they weren’t really his thing, he mostly wrote his fantasies.

One day he took his laptop with him to the Hale house to complete a new fiction. The lead role went to, of course, Peter. He was practically obsessed with the man; his tall narrow frame, his slicked back hair and that damned goatee on his face. That goatee was the best thing that happened to his world, it even made Peter more attractive and Stiles had never thought that was possible!

"What are you writing?" asked Derek. All the pack had gathered in the living room for some bonding time.

"Oh nothing… just a story I've been working on." He answered, he was afraid if one of them asked about what the genre was. He never liked answering questions about what he wrote, he knew these people were his friends but he couldn’t stop that icky feeling of being judged.

"Stiles your heart beat… is there something wrong?" asked Peter. The man was sitting on the couch whilst Stiles was sitting on a chair of the living room's dining table.

No not him! Why couldn’t I just stop writing and left my laptop at home?!

"Yeah, no I'm fine. I was just thinking whether I should kill the hero or his umm… grandmother…" he blushed at the last part. Grandmother? Couldn’t you have maybe thought of something else, dummy?

Peter ignored answering to Stiles' weird remark but gave him a soft smile.

Few, that was close. Good thing werewolves couldn’t read minds otherwise I would've been… yikes!

Some time later he decided to take a break from his writing and go outside with the rest of the pack. A little bit of fresh air wouldn’t hurt since he had been hiding in his room writing all the time.

He was wondering where Peter was…

    Peter didn’t feel like walking in the woods today, he left his pack and Stiles, who's heart rate was oddly changing, and went to his room. After he had done some reading, he stood from his chair and walked to his window to see if Derek and the rest were close.

He didn’t see them but he saw a figure just exiting the back door and walking into the woods; Stiles. He looked closely to see if the boy had his laptop with him, nope, his hands are empty.

Peter knew he shouldn’t abuse Stiles' privacy but he could practically hear that laptop calling his name. He wanted to know what Stiles wrote, he had this vision in his head that Stiles would one day be this big hotshot selling author who wrote his best works at some coffee shop.

Peter made his way downstairs, making sure that no one was around. He found the laptop on the dining table where Stiles was sat writing before he went out.

Upon opening the laptop he saw that it was password protected. Now why didn’t I think of that?

He saw that there was a security question just below the password bar. He smiled, he knew the answer. He quickly typed in Stiles' mother's name and he was in, searching his documents.

Pictures… pictures… porn… ah there we go!

He was feeling bad because he wasn’t guilty at all about this. Peter found the folder that held all Stiles stories. They were a lot but it was no matter since Peter brought a flash drive with him. He copied the files and pasted them in his flash drive and carefully closed the laptop as if no one had touched it.

~ o~

It was night and everyone had gone home. Peter was wide awake in his room, specifically, on his laptop. He was reading Stiles' work with shock and amusement. He didn’t know that the boy was a good writer, what amused him was that all of what he had read was about himself.

He felt smug, there were dozens of written sexual fantasies of Peter himself and Stiles. How cute, he thought as he grinned. This was the reason why Stiles didn’t want anyone to know.

    In a blink of an eye it was the next day and Stiles spent it as usual but with less writing, he had writers block. He went to school, took some classes and spent time with Scott then went back home, to his room.

He skipped dinner since he ate a lot in the day and his father was at work, so there was no point. Stiles slipped into his sleep clothes and threw himself carelessly on his bed, resting on his stomach.

What he wanted was a nice night's sleep. But since when did he ever get what he wanted? There had to be something getting in the way. And this time it was in the form of a sound of an opening window.

For the love of God, Derek.

 When Stiles heard footsteps landing on the floor he decided to sit up, there was no point in faking, Derek would just know.

"Derek, I thought I told you to use the door-"

"I prefer the window." He heard Peter's smooth voice. Oh wow, wasn’t expecting that at all!

He sat properly on the edge of his bed, looking at Peter. "Oh great, I actually prefer Derek, creep." Stiles retorted, he was really thinking of getting a window lock or something.

"Ouch. That hurt my feelings." Peter was closing in on Stiles, he was getting closer and the boy didn’t know what to do. He was confused, what in the hell got into Peter?

He stood in front of his sitting figure. If Peter hadn’t been staring at his face, or had the gift of sight even, Stiles would’ve enjoyed the view that he was bestowed with. "So Stiles, how was your day?" asked Peter as he took both of Stiles' hands and lead him to his computer chair. No really, what was up with this guy today? He’s acting weirder than usual.

Peter made him sit down and swiftly hand cuffed his hands together.

"Hey, what the fuck are you doing?!!" the boy yelled. He was having second thoughts over his obsession; no not really… this is kind of hot,

Peter leaned in and placed his lips directly to Stiles' ear. "I know what you write, Stiles." He whispered.

"I'm going to fulfill one of your fantasies. Guess which one." He breathed and bit on Stiles' ear. Stiles was too excited to give a damn about how he knew or if he was in fact bluffing, if he was offering who was he to decline?

Besides, this gave him a great idea for another story.