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The pack house was alive with chatter, but Lydia Martin moved through it like she owned the place. Heels clicking, hair perfect, makeup immaculate. Her phone was glued to her hand, a sly smile dancing across her lips as she whispered into it.
“Yeah… I’m dating Stiles,” she cooed. “It’s hilarious. Everyone thinks I like him, but he’s… such a mess. He was so crazy about me I just had to do it everyone loves it.”
Across the room, Derek’s eyes darkened. He’d known Lydia’s type for years, and this… using Stiles for popularity… was enough to make his blood boil.
Derek didn’t waste another second. He crossed the room in long, purposeful strides, stopping just a foot from Lydia. His dark eyes bore into hers, dangerous and unreadable.
“Lydia,” he said, voice low and cold, “I know what you’ve been saying. About Stiles. And I don't like it you are being disgusting ”
Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then she straightened, smirk returning, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Derek… you don’t understand. I—”
“I understand perfectly,” Derek cut in, jaw tight. “You’re using him. For popularity. For attention. And I will not let you play with him like that he doesn't deserve it .”
Lydia swallowed, then forced a teasing shrug, as if daring him. “Oh… so protective. Fine. I can see why. But, you know… or tell him and I'll just say you knew the whole time " She leaned in slightly, voice dropping, eyes glinting mischievously, “…if you really want him, you can have my sloppy seconds when I'm done with him . Not before ”
Derek’s lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes darkened even further, the kind of look that could freeze fire. “No,” he said slowly, deliberately. “Stiles is not some game. And you… are going to leave him alone. Completely.”
Lydia blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of his glare, and for a second, even she didn’t know what to say no one ever talked to her like this. Derek didn’t move, didn’t blink, his presence dominating the room, his warning unspoken but crystal clear.
“You… you can’t he's crazy abo—” she finally started, but Derek’s voice cut her off, low and dangerous:
“I can and I will. Leave him out of your schemes.”
For once, Lydia had nothing clever to say. She swallowed hard, her smirk faltering under the weight of Derek's scowl. And he just walked away not caring if she has something to say.
he had slipped onto her phone while she’d left it unattended in the kitchen. It had taken all of two minutes for him to uncover the group chat with her so-called friends—the girls who followed her everywhere, waiting for every opportunity to echo her opinions and gossip. The texts were brutal: mocking Stiles, hyping her plan, celebrating the idea of her “dating such a disaster of a human being.”
Derek had quietly sent himself the texts and printed out every single message, every joke at Stiles’ expense, every sly comment. He hadn’t shown it yet—he wanted to wait
Derek started showing up for Stiles. Small moments became routines:
A surprise lunch hand-off in the cafeteria showing Stiles he has someone who really cares —coffee in one hand, teasing smirk on his lips. “I didn’t know he could be this cute,” he murmured.
Quiet walks through the park after school, Derek’s arm brushing against Stiles’ on purpose, warm and possessive..... loving
Movie nights at Derek’s loft with the pack, with blankets over them and Derek stealing little kisses on the cheek when Lydia’s looking.
Lydia tried desperately to keep her plan alive. She staged photos for social media, sent flirty messages, and whispered to her girlfriends about how everyone is eating it up her dating a “big mess.” And when those moments seemed to make Stiles doubt himself every photo she asked to take ,every "nice comment" she upped the ante—last-ditch, seductive gestures, hoping to keep him hooked was sex just before he asked to talk to her about his feelings.
But Stiles’ heart wasn’t fooled. On a quiet evening, in the corner of her room, he took a deep breath. “Lydia… I can’t do this. I care about you, but not the way you want me to and I don't even think you care . I… I love Derek. And he loves me. Truly ”
Lydia’s smirk faltered, then disappeared. “What? No! You can’t—”
“I’m done,” Stiles said, firm. “I can’t fake it anymore. I need someone who actually loves me. And isn't using me. ”
That’s when Lydia’s girls went into overdrive standing his name on social media , repeating her version: Stiles was “clingy,” “abusive,” and “mean.” "He hit Lydia I seen it" She thought spreading the rumors about her hiding the "abuse" only cause she "loved" him would save her plan. But Derek had been ready.
He showed up at the school the next morning per Stiles request cause Derek showed him the text, quietly slipping through the halls while Stiles got his books. Then, strategically, he posted the printed group chat messages everywhere—classroom bulletin boards, locker doors, cafeteria tables. Students crowded around, reading every word Lydia and her friends had said about Stiles: mocking him, calling him ugly, desperate, and pathetic. How she will sleep with him if she had to.
The room went silent. As they read everything Lydia’s face turned ashen. “You… you can’t… take ..these..down.....you bastard. ” she stammered. With humiliation and anger
Derek smirked. “Looks like truth has a way of catching up.”
Popularity: gone. Power: lost. Lydia’s desperate last-ditch efforts to keep Stiles had failed spectacularly.
Meanwhile, Stiles laughed—soft, relieved laughter—as Derek slipped his hand into his. “You okay?” Derek asked, dark eyes soft, full of warmth and love.
“Better than okay,” Stiles said, leaning into him. “I’m loved and cared for.”
Derek smiled, rare and full, just for him. “Good. Because I don’t share.”
And just like that, all the chaos faded. Stiles had finally found the one who truly loved him, Lydia’s schemes lay in ruins as does her love and loyalty from everyoneshe lied to and about, and the pack watched silently as Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski finally got the ending they deserved.