Disclaimer: Teen wolf does not belong to me in any way shape or form :( A big thank you to all the readers and the continuous support you have all given me, it truly does brighten my day, and a massive shoutout to SlyWamp26, mcdx025 and Minnie999 for the reviews :)

Stiles somehow managed to coax her up the stairs and into his bedroom, his heart heavy as she sobbed and sniffled. Shaking from her clothes which were cold and heavy from the rain, plastered flush against her skin. Her usual confident and feisty demeanour extinguished and burnt out, replaced by a Kayla that Stiles had never seen before – broken, exhausted and worn out. A shell of her usual self.

He guided her to sit on his bed, not caring that she was dripping wet and found a towel to wrap around her shoulders, kneeling in front of her and reaching up to tuck some slick strands of hair behind her ear so he could see her face better, devastated to see her so upset.

"Did it not go well?" he asked carefully, "with your mom?"

Her gaze, teary and defeated, met his as she slowly shook her head.

"How can I help?" he questioned, verging on desperate, "how can I make this better?"

"… I don't know if you can" she mumbled, her bottom lip trembling, "I just… I can't… I can't think straight. I-I don't know what to do o-or say or go and… and I just… I… I don't know what to do Stiles".

She seemed so lost, forced to watch as her entire world crumbled down around her.

"Stay here" he said, "please? I'm worried about you. Stay here and let me look after you".

She looked down, almost appearing shameful. "I didn't mean to come here, I just… I was walking and… and then I saw your house…"

"Don't ever be sorry about that" he whispered, "you can come here anytime".

"It's late though…"

"Anytime" he emphasised, reaching up to cup her wet cheek, "it's what I'm here for".

She met his gaze again, their stares clashing as she leaned into his touch, soaking up all the comfort he offered, her tired head resting against his palm. The caring contact seemed to ease her racing thoughts – even just a little.

A few seconds passed before a gentle knock sounded at the door and they both looked up to see his dad hovering over the threshold, a mug of hot chocolate resting between his hands.

"Can I come in?"

They both nodded, Stiles instinctively dropping his hand as his dad walked over and placed the mug filled to the brim with chocolatey goodness on his bedside table, his concerned gaze falling to Kayla.

"Are you okay?" his dad asked in concern, "are you safe?"

She nodded, sending Stiles a small thankful smile. "I am now".

"Get yourself a nice warm shower and out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold. I can make up the guest bedroom".

"No, no, it's fine. She can have my bed" Stiles rushed out, standing up, "the mattress in the guest room sucks. It's all lumpy and hard and probably should've been thrown out in the nineties".

His dad, ever inquisitive, shot them both a curious look but relented with a small nod.

"Of course. It would be best if you had a good night's sleep. Do you need me to call anyone for you? Your mom… any other family?"

Kayla sighed, glancing down at her lap. "I don't have any family".

His dad, obviously sensing the tension, just excused himself, trusting him to manage this situation.

"Come on" he said, "let's get you cleaned up".

He took her hand, guiding her across the hall and into the family bathroom, turning on the light and grabbing some fresh towels from the rack, placing them next to the sink and leaning over the bathtub to turn on the overhead shower, making sure the heat was turned all the way up.

"Take as long as you need" he smiled softly, "and use whatever you want. I'll leave some fresh clothes for you just outside the door".

She looked exhausted but nodded all the same, watching him leave and shut the door behind him as he hurried to dig through his drawers to find something cosy and comfortable for her to wear.

"Stiles?" his dad called out, frightening him as he floundered and jumped at the sudden intrusion, turning to face his dad who walked into the bedroom, "I'm concerned about her. Are you sure I don't need to call someone?"

"Family is kind of the issue right now" he said, "she just needs a safe place to get her head straight".

His dad frowned, "and that's here?... With you?"

"You seem surprised?"

His dad smirked, "I thought you weren't going to do anything about your feelings for her?"

"I wasn't" he agreed, "but then I did".

"So, you're dating?"

"I guess" he mumbled, "she didn't really want to put a label on it".

"I see" his dad said, folding his arms across his chest, "so that's the reason why it was a 'no' to the guest bedroom then?"

He blushed, feeling the tingle as the heat spread to his cheeks and outed his embarrassment to his dad.

"Well… that, and the mattress does suck".

"She's a complicated girl" his dad observed, "who has had a very sad and very chaotic life. She needs someone who will be kind and patient with her".

"I… I can be. I want to be" he said, "I just want to make her happy".

"Good" his dad smiled, "just uh… no funny business, okay?" he instructed, waving his hand out towards the bed, "and keep the door open".

"Dad" he whined, his blush intensifying.

His dad, just as awkward and embarrassed, simply screwed his face up and dismissed him with another wave of the hand, backing out of his room but not before pointedly showing him how an open door should look – as if he was three years old and didn't know.

He grabbed a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and a simple grey tee, folding them up and placing them outside the bathroom door, taking a few seconds to listen in and make sure she was still there and hadn't escaped out the bathroom window, hearing the water run and bounce off her body.

Content she was still there, he resigned himself to sitting on the edge of his bed and waiting for her, his mind racing. Still unable to comprehend how Peter – Peter the fricking Alpha – was her real dad. Her once thought uncle. It was something fresh off the Jerry Springer show.

He couldn't lie to himself; it was a shock. A pretty massive one at that. Although, he hated to admit it to himself, it was the missing puzzle pieces. That 'connection' they had wasn't just because they were family – it was because he was her dad. She came from him. She was here, alive, on this earth because of him. She was his child.

He knew Kayla wasn't a doe-eyed innocent schoolgirl, not privy to the world around her. He knew she had done things – bad things – and been through a lot of shit that made her hard and closed off. But, despite this, he couldn't understand how someone like her could have come from someone like him. He was evil. Callous. A murderer. She was everything he wasn't.

It just didn't make sense.

A part of him wondered if this would change things. If this revelation would be the catalyst for everything falling down around them. Was this just one thing too much for her to cope with? Would she leave, unable to face the new reality that he was her dad? Or would she come to accept him, desperate for a father figure in her life and turn against them?

There were too many unanswered questions – and Stiles hated unanswered questions. Yearning to figure out the mystery.

Maybe that was partly why he was so attracted to her, everything about her an enigma. A puzzle to figure out. Desperate to figure out how she ticked. Fascinated by everything that she was.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't realise she had emerged from the bathroom, hovering over the threshold of his room wearing his clothes – clothes that were too big for her, but somehow flattered her all the same. Hair, clean and wet, making drip marks on the light grey tee.

"Hey" he smiled, standing from the bed, "how was the shower? Did it help?"

"… A little".

"You can come in" he said gently, "my dad is cool with it".

"It's not that, it's just… uh…" she toyed with the hem of the tee, glancing around the room before staring out the window, "I… I'm craving".

He frowned, not following what she meant. "Craving?"

Her left leg was a little fidgety, the heel of her foot bouncing against the carpet as her fingers, quick and restless, tugged harder at the bottom of the tee, wrapping the cotton material around the tips of her fingers before loosening it again, doing that repeatedly until it was creased.

"Oh" he realised, finally understanding what she meant, "you mean…"

"They make me forget" she admitted, "and I want to forget this".

He crept forward, not knowing what to say or do to make her feel better, but just knew he had to be careful about this. If he said or did just one wrong thing, it could send her spiralling – especially when she was so close to the edge.

"It doesn't have to change anything" he whispered, reaching out to take her hands in his, "your dad is who raised you. Who loved you".

"The thing is… everything finally makes sense" she mumbled, "the reason my mom hates me, why I've always felt different and misplaced, why my family was broken. I've gotten answers to everything I wanted answers for and now I wish I didn't know them".

"You can get through this" he encouraged, "you're strong".

"I'm not" she shook her head, her eyes clouding with fresh tears, "I'm not strong. Strong people don't want to shove a needle in their arm just to feel anything else".

"You are strong" he insisted, tightening his grip around her hands, "you didn't do that. You came here instead, which is just about the strongest thing you can do".

"But I wanted to" she whispered, "I wanted to just take something – anything – to not have to feel what I'm feeling. I wanted to. Don't you get that? I wanted to. Not had to. Wanted to. Because I haven't changed. Because, despite pretending to the world, I am still just that selfish, reckless little girl that just doesn't give a damn".

It killed him to hear her speak like that, as if she wasn't worth anything at all. Unable to see how strong and brilliant she truly was, despite all the adversities and things she has had to face throughout her short life.

She was looking up at him almost desperately, as if wishing he would change his mind and agree with her that she was a waste of space, something that would never happen. She could push and push, try and keep him at a distance as some way to hurt and self-sabotage herself, but it wouldn't work. He wouldn't let it. He meant what he said… he would be here for her in any way possible. He couldn't let her weather this storm alone, not when he felt such big things for her. Willing to burden some of the load.

"Did you hear what I said?" she demanded, ripping her hands from his, "I'm… I'm bad. I'm a disaster. I'm a disgusting junkie. I don't belong here in your world. I'm just like him. I'm just like Peter".

Her identity crisis and spiral into the depths of chaos were all down to that revelation, shaking the very foundations of everything she had known.

Reaching out, he cupped her cheeks with soothing hands, trying to ground her and regulate her emotions, soothing her panic and unease the only way he knew how.

"You're Kayla" he whispered, "you're Kayla Hale. You are nothing like him. He's darkness. You are light – beautiful, blinding light".

She was crying, grabbing fistfuls of his tee like she didn't know whether to push him away or bring him close, tears rolling down her cheeks and his heart broke watching her fall apart. Wishing, above all else, he could just make her feel happy again.

"He's my dad" she sobbed, "he's my… he's my dad".

"I know" he whispered, "I know, and I'm so sorry".

Her face crumpled, dissolving into fresh tears and resting her head against his chest in defeat. His arms, loving and safe, wrapped around her weeping body and held her close, kissing the top of her head.

He didn't know what to do except to be here, helping her through this. Eventually half carrying her to the bed and trying to tuck her in, but she was grabbing onto his clothes, her sad eyes peering up at him in fear as she croaked out one word, "stay".

He had never seen her so vulnerable, not even when she was writhing in pain over the full moon. This was different. This was a dangerous time for her. Maybe he was the only thing stopping her from disappearing down a dark path again. He dreaded to think what might have happened if she hadn't made her way here, painful and worrisome images invading his mind. What if she had overdosed? Or someone had taken advantage of her? What if she got hurt?

He wasn't about to let that happen.

So he climbed into bed with her, laying on his side with his arm tucked under her head, their foreheads touching. Close enough to feel her racing heart against his own chest, their legs and feet intertwined. Silent and just staring into each other's eyes until they succumbed to slumber.

For a brief second when she woke, she forgot about the disaster of the night before and how her entire life had been turned upside down. And that brief second was bliss. Warm and stress-free, Stiles' soft breaths hitting her face. Tucked against his body, leaning on his shoulder with his other arm draped reassuringly over her waist. It was a little slice of heaven, one she wished she could've stayed in.

Of course, good things didn't happen often to her. So it was only natural that feeling was robbed almost instantaneously, her mood sinking and her body turning cold as she remembered the truth.

Peter was her father.

The chaotic emotions she had felt had dulled, paving the way for daunting acceptance. Sick to her stomach. Nauseous and wound tight in knots.

Her waking and change in demeanour must've woken Stiles because he moved slightly, still feeling her clinging to him and peeled his eyes open, those pretty browns finding her stare immediately.

"Hey" he said softly, stroking her waist as he tried for a small smile.

"Hey" she replied, her voice croaky from crying.

"Did you sleep okay?"

Despite everything, it was probably one of the best sleeps she had ever had. Warm and safe in his embrace that enveloped her so well, easing her worries.

She nodded, "did you?"

"Well, my arm lost feeling halfway through the night, but it was worth it" he smirked.

"Are you saying my head is heavy?"

"Would you dump me if I said maybe?"

She snorted out a laugh, preparing to sit up and relieve his tingly arm but he tightened his grip around her waist, anchoring her to the bed and, in turn, his body.

"Just because it's heavy, it doesn't mean I don't want it there" he said, inching a little closer to her, nuzzling his head against hers, "… stay".

She had no will or resolve to say no, burying herself deeper against his body and under the covers, every inch of their bodies touching and facing each other.

"We have school" she reminded him.

"School-smhool" he shrugged, "school can suck my pasty white dick".

She quirked a brow in amusement as he realised what he said, flushing a light pink.

"Well, I'd be jealous if school got to do that before I did" she whispered, tilting her head back to press a light kiss to his lips, "and I'm sure it's not that pasty".

He chuckled nervously, "It's not exactly somewhere that gets a lot of sun".

"You mean you don't sit out and tan naked?" she laughed, "I'm disappointed".

He gulped nervously, "d-do you?"

"Of course. How else do you avoid tan lines?"

They were face to face, so close in fact that she could see the nervous and probably horny sweat begin to prickle his face, his hand tightening around her waist.

"R-Right" he forced a laugh, "pesky little tan lines".

"…Stiles?"

"Hm?"

"Why does it seem like the idea of seeing me naked would give you heart failure?"

"Because it would" he answered without missing a beat, "and you know what? I'd die a happy man".

She giggled, playfully slapping his chest before tucking her head under his chin, burying her face into his neck and chest and relaxing against his warm body, just being with him taking the load of life off her shoulders.

"I could stay here all day" he whispered, his hand gliding from her waist up to cup the back of her head, keeping her close, and the other resting under her neck tightened around her back.

She didn't know why, but she felt like she could too. She thought being here, being so close to someone else, would be too intimidating and claustrophobic but she found herself fully relaxed and at ease in his arms, the lack of space between them actually comforting. A peaceful calm washing over her.

She breathed in his scent, his warm body keeping the chill away and, if she allowed herself, she knew she could fall asleep at the snap of a finger.

"Yeah" she mumbled, "me too…"

That wasn't to happen though, not with the Sheriff and a concerned father in the same house, having not slept a wink worrying about the two of them sharing the same bed, at the crack of dawn knocking on the – still, thankfully – open door, cutting through the bliss.

Stiles, always so jumpy, shot up in bed like he had been caught doing something wrong, forgetting he had Kayla wrapped up in his arms who let out a shriek and got spun from the bed to the carpet below.

"… Ow" she mumbled, landing on her back and staring up at the ceiling, the back of her skull beginning to throb as Stiles' horrified and panicked face appeared above her as he leaned over the edge of the bed, "I guess time's up, huh?"

"Stiles" the Sheriff chastised, hurrying into the room and giving her a helpful hand up, "what on earth…?"

"I did not mean to do that" he insisted, "I just… and then you… with the knocking… and we are clothed" he rambled, "Fully".

The Sheriff looked at Stiles in exhaustion, "yes, I can see that".

"W-We didn't do anything" he continued, clearly unable to know when to just shut up as he kneeled on the bed, wringing his hands, "nothing was done. Not anything. I'm still a virgin".

"Stiles?" she asked, rubbing the back of her head, "he didn't ask".

Stiles gulped, looking between her and his dad as he blushed, his jaw swinging open and closed. "… Right".

The Sheriff simply shook his head, clearly too much information given to him in the space of ten seconds as he glanced between the two teenagers, secretly still thrilled that there were no shenanigans that could result in him becoming a grandpa.

"I just wanted to make sure you were both up" he said, before screwing his face up at that implication, "for school. If you plan to be there?" he asked Kayla, "Stiles, you have no choice. You're going".

"Dad-"

"Actually, I was planning on burning the whole place to the ground. That's usually the next stage of my mental breakdowns" she shrugged, watching as both father and son got the same horrified looks on their faces.

"I'm joking" she smirked, "jeez, lighten up. I would never burn the place down. I would blow it up instead – much more efficient".

That comment didn't ease their worries, both silent and unsure what to say.

"I'm going to school" she conceded, no doubt much to their relief, "with no plans to do anything remotely damaging to property or other people. Well, unless they piss me off. Apart from that, I'm chill".

"Right…" the sheriff muttered, "well, I'll leave you both to it. Help yourself to breakfast".

He left the room, still keeping the door open.

"I'm sorry" Stiles winced, jumping from the bed and appearing next to her, "are you okay?"

"I'll live" she chuckled, "though we might need to work on how you exit from cuddling".

"This doesn't count as domestic abuse, does it?" he questioned, a guilty tense look spreading across his expression.

"Somehow, I think not" she smirked, "thanks for letting me stay over".

"Anytime".

She sent him a sultry look, unable to help herself. "Anytime?"

He floundered, nodding helplessly as she bit her lip, watching him get all unsure and overwhelmed and found it incredibly endearing.

"Well, uh… y-yeah. I mean… sleep-sleepovers can be a lot of fun" he stuttered, awkwardly coughing to clear his throat, "we could… watch movies, and make popcorn and… and maybe, like… kiss… and stuff…"

"Stuff?" she smirked, cocking her head to the side, enjoying playing with him, "what kind of 'stuff' exactly?"

"Uh… l-like.. like lots of kisses" he gulped, "because kisses are good. Lots of kisses are even better".

"A little PG-13" she noted, "I was thinking something a little more explicit".

"E-E-Explicit?"

"You're so innocent, it's adorable" she laughed, reaching out to playfully squeeze his cheeks, "don't worry, I'll change that".

He was speechless, staring down at her with wide eyes and she just simply grinned, showing she didn't regret her words. Leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips, bringing him back down to earth with a bang.

"So… breakfast." she said, "what cereal you got?"

He blinked a couple of times, still reeling from her words, his mind racing a million miles a minute.

"Uh… cereal. I uh…. Yeah, we got cereal".

"You do strike me as a cereal kind of guy".

"I can't tell if that's a compliment or an insult".

"Guess you'll just have to work that out yourself" she smiled, reaching up to move some wavy hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear but he caught her arm suddenly, turning it over in his grip.

"What?"

He frowned, "the bite. It's almost gone".

She looked down at her own arm, expecting to still see the fresh wound beginning to scab over but instead, Stiles was right – the only remnants of it were a light bruise and small indent marks, fading fast.

"It's healed" he muttered in amazement, "do you feel any different?"

"No" she whispered, shaking her head, running her fingertips over the dwindling marks, "I feel fine. I feel like me".

"I thought the bite either kills you or changes you" Stiles pointed out, "so if it hasn't killed you – which yay – then…"

"That's normally the hard and fast rule, yeah. But I don't feel like a werewolf. I just feel… normal".

"What's going on?" he whispered, "why would he bite you in the first place?"

She cast her mind back to last night, trying to remember his words and taunts to see if she could make sense of the hints and puzzle pieces he offered her.

"He said something about becoming who I'm meant to be…"

"Yeah, I heard that too" he nodded, "but what does it mean…?"

"I don't know" she shrugged, "with him, it could mean anything. And I don't want to ask him to find out".

"But you're sure you're okay?" he checked in concern, "you don't feel ill, or murderous, or anything?"

"I just feel like me. So yeah, a little murderous, but it's manageable – don't worry about it" she chuckled, shrugging in dismissal, "it comes with the last name".

"Everyone is staring" Stiles muttered, a nervous edge to his voice, "why is everyone still staring?"

"Because they probably think you got laid" she smirked, nudging him playfully as they walked towards the school, "I am wearing your clothes, after all".

He glanced down at her, admiring how she looked in his tight-fitting pair of black sweatpants, the waistband loose but the material stretched tight around her ass, obviously able to fill them better than he could, the cuffs rolled a couple of times and showing off her bare ankle, paired with a slouchy maroon tee that she had knotted to one side, making it cropped. Not wanting to go home and get her own clothes, so resorted to wearing his – just with a little style twist.

"You look hot in them" he observed, "maybe they're staring because of that".

"Nope" she laughed, "they definitely think you got laid. I can hear the rumours starting already".

"Heh, well…"

"You don't have to correct them" she smirked, "live with the 'stud' title for a little while, see how it feels".

"You're okay with people thinking we slept together?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Uh… because I'm me" he exclaimed, "severely unpopular. Sort of a nerd. Still working off that embarrassing toilet incident from fifth grade. None of those really work in my favour for hot girls".

"Stiles" she caught his arm, stopping them before they reached the front doors, "relax. I don't care about those things. Stop thinking I'm above you when I'm not. The only time I'll be above you is when I'm riding your dick".

He coughed and spluttered, still taken aback by her ability to come out with anything.

"I like you because you're you" she continued as if she didn't just give him the beginnings of a severe and nearly fatal heart attack, "I don't quite get it or understand it myself, but I do. I like you. Accept it".

"Kaylz…" he smiled softly, "how can I ever accept something that still seems so surreal?"

She rolled her eyes playfully, "get over it".

"Never" he grinned, "I still pinch myself thinking this is a dream".

"I'm sure your dreams wouldn't be lacking so much sex".

Once again, catching him off guard and causing him to splutter and choke, helpless as he followed her into the school and towards their lockers.

"There you guys are" Scott greeted, rushing over to meet them, "didn't you get my calls? Or texts? This is huge. What are we going to do?"

Both her and Stiles just simply looked at Scott, still caught in their own little bubble and briefly forgetting about the revelation that Peter was the big bad Alpha.

"About the Alpha" Scott exclaimed, trying to keep his voice hushed but his panic was winning out, "who, by the way, is your Uncle" directing the last bit to Kayla with wide eyes, "what the hell?"

"I have nothing to do with his extracurricular activities" she shrugged, "and also, he's not my uncle".

Scott frowned, his adorable face screwing up in confusion as he looked between them both again, trying to figure out what he was missing.

"He's my dad" she said bluntly, "which is still a bit of a mind fuck, actually".

"What?" Scott exclaimed, drawing back in shock, "he's your… what?"

"His sperm made me".

Stiles winced, "I think he knows how the birds and the bees work Kaylz".

"I've gone through exactly the same thing" she reassured a slack-jawed Scott, "the shock, it will pass".

"But… how is he… your…"

"Sperm".

"Again, I don't think he means it so literally" Stiles said, leaning to speak into her ear, "I'm sure he's aware of the job of sperm".

"I don't know, and I don't care" she shrugged, "I'm done expecting any truth from this so-called family of mine. They're all liars".

If she didn't know any better, she would assume he was in the middle of an asthma attack judging by the way he was hyperventilating, looking at her with wide shocked eyes, like he was debating whether to run away from her or not but that shocked look made way for confusion as he realised what she was wearing.

"You're wearing his clothes".

"Mine got wet" she shrugged.

Scott frowned deeper, looking between them both before gasping.

"See?" she nudged Stiles, "even he thinks you got laid".

"No one got laid" Stiles exclaimed, "dude, focus. Priorities".

"This has been a very overwhelming two minutes" Scott sighed, "what is going on? And are you wearing a new perfume?" he directed to her, changing the subject and cocking his head to the side in confusion.

"Nope" she said, "why?"

"No reason" he said, "you just smell really good".

"Why do you keep saying that to me?" she asked in bewilderment, "because if you try and kiss me again, I'll do a lot more than slap you".

Scott blushed, "that wasn't me. That was the full moon".

"You tried to kiss her?" Stiles interrupted, taken aback by those words, "that's my job".

"I didn't mean to" Scott said, holding his hands up in surrender, "the full moon-"

"Do I smell different?" she cut him off, "like, my scent? Is it different?"

Stiles, obviously realising why she was asking, kept quiet, watching with nervous eyes as Scott stared between them both in perplexity, his stare tense and on edge.

"Guys… what's going on?" he asked, "have I missed something?"

"Can you just… the question" she swallowed nervously, her voice quivering with something close to fear, "is my scent different?"

"Yeah" Scott nodded, "it's always been really sweet, and on the full moon it was pretty overwhelming, but I just thought that was because of me and my increased senses. But now it's… well, it's… sort of…"

"Scott" she cut off his hesitation, a newfound urgency in her tone, "spit it out".

"I don't think you want me to…"

"Dude" Stiles cut in, "tell her".

"It's…. well, I guess it's… enchanting. Powerful. Like… like an aphrodisiac" he muttered shyly, his blush deepening, "I don't know how else to explain it".

"An aphrodisiac?" she asked, snorting at the ridiculousness of that explanation, "my scent makes you horny?"

"Well, no" he mumbled, "not me. I'm not horny… I think" he added, his face screwing up with nerves, "I just mean… you smell good. Too good…"

"I am thoroughly disturbed" Stiles said, before looking at Scott, "and I kind of want to punch you".

Scott took a half step back, away from her or Stiles she wasn't sure. Potentially both.

"Are you being serious?" she asked, "you're not lying?"

"I'm not lying" he promised, "I feel drunk being too close to you, and I can't get drunk".

"Do you feel like this?" she asked Stiles, "aroused?"

"I'm probably not the best person to ask…" he muttered, "I'm always aroused around you, remember?"

"Right" she mumbled, grabbing the first person who walked past them and pulling them to stand in front of her, "Greenburg, is that right?"

The poor guy just looked down at her in fear and confusion, cautiously eyeing up the way she was still grabbing his shirt in her tight grip with no sign of letting go and, with her reputation, he didn't want to try.

"Uh… yes. That's me. I'm Greenburg".

"How you feeling Greenburg?" she asked, "horny?"

"Oh my God Kayla" Stiles exclaimed, "what are you-"

"Do you want to have sex with me?" she continued her interrogation, "or live out any other kind of dirty desire?"

Greenburg swallowed nervously, on edge and overwhelmed but his eyes never left hers and she could pinpoint the exact moment he turned, as if he switched personalities at the drop of a hat.

"Oh god yes" Greenberg said, even his voice sounding lower and more desperate, "all the things I could do to that tight little body-"

She pushed him away, discarding him once she got her answer and turned to look at an equally disturbed and shocked Stiles and Scott, a new panic rushing through her veins.

"Why the hell am I making everyone horny?" she demanded, "what the hell is happening to me?"

"… I don't know, but if you don't mind, I'm just going to… yeah-" Scott muttered, pointing behind him as he took a few hesitant steps backwards, "… I have class. Bye".

She watched him run off, although much more awkwardly and clumsy than usual.

"Did you just give my best friend a boner?"

"I didn't mean to" she winced, "I don't understand what's going on…"

"Me and you both" Stiles replied, taking a hold of her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze, "but don't worry, we'll figure it out. I promise".

"For the millionth time, no. Go away" Lydia said, shooing away the next guy that tried to hit on Kayla, "and take your desperate teenage hormones with you".

Kayla just watched as the guy, she counted that as the thirty sixth one all morning, stalked away in disappointment.

"This is getting ridiculous" Lydia exclaimed as she steered her and Allison towards the classroom, "why is every Tom, Dick and Harry trying to hit on you? Especially dressed like that".

"It is pretty weird" Allison said, "not that you're getting hit on, because you're clearly gorgeous, but everyone is acting really weird about it. Like they're possessed or something".

"Did you try that new 'vabbing' craze?" Lydia asked, with a disbelieving eye roll, "Because regular perfume works just as well as vaginal secretions, just saying".

"No" she denied, "I've not done anything".

"Sure" the redhead scoffed, "so why are you getting all this attention?"

"Trust me" she muttered as they walked into class, "I'd rather not be".

She felt relief spread through her when she caught sight of Stiles, finding herself able to relax a bit as she took her seat in front of him, Allison in front of her and Lydia to the side.

"Hey" he greeted, eagerly leaning forward, "you okay? How's it going?"

"Bad. Verybad" she said, "this morning has been weird, and not in a good way. I seriously think that bite has done something to me. I can't get within two feet of a guy without them becoming very inappropriate and- wait, where's Scott?" she cut herself off, seeing the empty seat next to Stiles.

Stiles simply jutted his thumb back and she followed the direction of it, peering around him to see Scott seated all the way at the very back of the class, his backpack on the desk like some sort of shield.

She frowned, lifting her hand into an unsure wave but Scott's eyes just widened, blushing deeply as he looked away.

"I think he's embarrassed" Stiles said, "and probably a little bit scared".

"Scared?" she asked, "of what? Of me?"

"Well, you did give the guy a boner" he pointed out, an unsure chuckle escaping his lips, "and, well…"

"The Peter thing?" she sighed, "does he… does he not trust me anymore?"

"No, of course he trusts you" Stiles was quick to reassure, "he just… it's a lot to process. Peter was the one who bit him. He changed his entire life. He's out there killing people. Finding out you're his daughter is just a bit of an adjustment…"

"I would never join Peter" she said, with so much certainty in her voice, "I want him gone. Just because he's my dad, it doesn't change anything".

"I know, and Scott knows too" he mumbled, "It's just a lot…"

She understood, to an extent. Peter turned Scott's entire life upside down and was threatening, not just his life, but everyone's that he loved. Of course there would be fear and doubts there – he was only human, after all.

"We need a plan" she propositioned, "because I sure as hell know Peter has one. We're sitting ducks".

"Does staying alive count as a plan?" he chuckled uncomfortably, sending her a smile.

"Unfortunately not" she smirked, "and also, we need to figure out why I've suddenly become irresistible to your species".

"Species?" he asked with a wondering frown.

"Male" she joked, "don't get me wrong, I love the attention but it's getting really creepy now. Plus, I think Lydia is a little bit jealous. And by a little bit, I mean a lot".

"She's jealous you're getting hit on?" he asked before chuckling, "shouldn't it be me that gets jealous? Which, by the way, I totally am".

"Any attention away from her is apocalypse-level bad in her books" she commented, "and don't worry… you're the only one I want, so no need to stress. I know how to say no to guys".

Their moment was cut short by Lydia leaning across the aisle, poking her in the arm with her pen.

"Ow, what Lydia?"

"So, suddenly, because Jackson broke up with me, I'm invisible – is that it?" she demanded, "has he tarnished my name?" before looking at Stiles, "What has he said about me?"

"Uh… nothing" he answered, albeit nervously, flinching under Lydia's cold and calculating eyes, "he's said nothing that I know of. Nada. Zilch".

Lydia let out a frustrated screech, clearly not the answer she was looking for.

"He's said nothing?" she demanded, "nothing about me? I'm Lydia Martin. He has to have said something".

"Uh…"

"Lydia, come on, you don't need him" Kayla reassured, "he's a douche".

"He's captain of the lacrosse team".

"Well, technically-" she corrected, "-co-captain".

Lydia threw her a glare, "we were the IT couple of Beacon Hills. We ruled this school. And now, what? I'm just normal? I don't even get hit on anymore? Instead, you, dressed in boys' clothes, gets whoever you want?"

She ignored the jab, knowing Lydia was just upset. Clearly evident when her friend just turned away in a huff, crossing her arms on the desk.

"Touchy" Stiles reacted with a wince.

"We really need to figure this shit out" she sighed, "before I have no friends or boyfriend".

Stiles perked up at that, sending her a hopeful look.

"Boyfriend?" he asked, "boyfriend as in… me?"

She didn't even realise what she had said, the words just slipping from her lips. Usually so uncomfortable with that label.

"Uh… well, um… in the sense of the word… yeah…"

He grinned at her, sending her a playful wink.

"Don't worry, your boyfriend is on the case".

A/N) HAHAHAHA sorry but I'm cackling. I love writing this story and everything that comes with it. Poor Kayla, if you haven't guessed already, I'm not nice to her at all but she will prevail (eventually) lol.

And hmmmm wonder what that bite could have awakened… ;)

So hope you all enjoyed and please leave your thoughts, and I will see you all super soon