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© firstwaitz
flood warning!
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︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ NOBODY EVER ASKS THE KID IN THE BACKSEAT WHETHER THEY ACTUALLY WANT TO LEAVE.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ They just buckle you in, tell you it's for the best, and expect you to understand later. River never did. It's hard not to grow bitter when you're dragged away - not necessarily kicking and screaming, but close enough - from the only home and best friends you'd ever known because your mom decided to leave your dad, and your dad didn't fight hard enough to make you stay. Bobby Finstock had been too busy drowning himself in alcohol and self-hatred to notice what he was letting go of.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ Now, River was returning, like most natural disasters do - loudly, reluctantly, and against at least one adult's better judgement.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ She'd collected one too many suspensions, one too many warnings - and apparently one arrest too many. Shoplifting had been the final straw for Christina Finstock. Don't make this harder than it needs to be, River, she had said, calm in the way adults get when they've already made a decision without you. River had shouted back anyway. Stormed out anyway. Because it wasn't fair. It wasn't like she'd chosen to be here. Her mom was the one who left Beacon Hills first. River was just unfortunate enough to get dragged along too.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ River hadn't lived with her dad since middle school, which meant she remembered him as loud, intermittently sober, vaguely embarassing, and permanently irritated by teenage boys existing. This wasn't a summer visit or a long weekend anymore. This was permanent - at least, permanent enough her mom was mailing boxes of her stuff to her dads. Being sent back because your mother had officially reached the I don't know what to do with you anymore stage didn't feel great. She should probably unpack that one day. Not today, though.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ Beacon Hills itself seemed like it had been stuck in time since the day River left. Everything felt the same, but different. The air felt different. Same streets. Same park. Same creepy woods that everyone swore was absolutely safe despite the overwhelming statistical evidence suggesting otherwise. It hadn't changed much. Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski, however, had.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ She remembered Scott McCall as the awkward, shy kid she once shared bath time with as little kids. As the little boy she once defended by punching another kid for daring to make fun of him. The little boy she'd declared as hers long before she knew what that meant. Scott was her person. Not in a romantic way. Never in a romantic way. The thought made her gag whenever anyone would tease them about it.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ She remembered Stiles Stilinski as the awkward, gangly kid who showed up one afternoon talking too fast and never really stopped. The boy with restless hands and tired eyes who pretended he was fine long before anyone asked. The boy who wore his grief like it might spill out if he stood still too long. Stiles was the kind of person who filled a room whether he meant to or not, who handed over his hoodie without thinking and then complained about it for show. River had declared him unbearable almost immediately. Which, in hindsight, explained absolutely nothing about the way she still remembered the sound of his laugh.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ Once upon a time, they'd been inseperable. The kind of friendship forged through scraped knees and experiments conducted in Stiles' bedroom that probably violated multiple health codes and nearly gave the Sheriff a heart attack several times. River had left thinking she could come back and pick things up where they'd left off.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ River had grown too comfortable in that, apparently false, fact.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ Instead, Scott looked exhausted in ways a sophomore shouldn't be, and Stiles had developed an unortunate habit of lying (very badly) everytime she asked a question. Conversations died everytime she appeared. They said "trust us" like that hadn't historically always been a bad idea.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ They were treating her like she was fragile or like they didn't trust her to handle whatever was going on with them. She wasn't sure which she hated more. Because River hated being managed. She hated the lies.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ Because the thing about River Finstock was that even back then, she had never been known to handle being left out particuarly well.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ And if Beacon Hills had changed while she was gone - if something had sunk its claws into her best friends and convinced them secrecy counted as protection - then River intended to find out exactly what it was. She hadn't clawed her way back across the state just to sit on the sidelines and be politely excluded.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ River didn't know what she expected to uncover when she made it her mission to find out what exactly they were up to. Drugs, maybe. A deeply embarrassing extracurricular hobby. A very illegal fight club (though if you knew Scott and Stiles, all three of those ideas would be laughable. River wasn't sure who her best friends were any more. She was simply keping ber options open). She did not expect glowing eyes. She definitely did not expect claws. And she absolutely did not expect to learn that the boys she once swore she'd protect had been fighting monsters without telling her.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ Frankly, River found that offensive.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ Because being shipped back to Beacon Hills was supposed to be punishment. Structure. Accountability. A chance to get her life together somewhere familiar enough to feel safe again. It was not, as far as she understood, supposed to involve venomous lizard monsters, suspiciously glowing best friends, or a town that treated near-death experiences like inconvenient scheduling conflicts.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ River had come back expecting nostalgia. Maybe awkward reunions. Maybe a few slammed doors and overdue apologies. What she got instead were secrets sharp enough to cut, a father she barely recognised trying desperately to do better, and two boys who kept stepping between her and danger like she hadn't spent half her childhood dragging them out of it first.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ Unfortunately for everyone involved, River Finstock had never been particularly good at staying where she was told.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ And Stiles hadn't started calling her a flood warning for nothing.
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FEATURING . . .
RIVER FINSTOCK ✶ ︎︎Sophie Thatcher
Sixteen. She/her. Bisexual. Chloe Price Variant. Not Strong Enough, boygenius.
I try, I can't stop staring at the ceiling
fan and / Spinning out about things that
haven't happened / Breathing in and out.
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ALSO . . .
Dylan O'Brien . . . Stiles Stilinski
Tyler Posey . . . Scott McCall
Sadie Soverall . . . Lydia Martin
Crystal Reed . . . Allison Argent
Daniel Sharman . . . Isaac Lahey
Tyler Hoechlin . . . Derek Hale
Everyone Else . . .Their Characters /
As Described.
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︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ 𓂃 willow speaks! . . . ✧
hi my loves! yes, yet another stiles fic on wattpad in the year of our lord 2026 - unfortunately i am basic and he is one of my faves lol, and the easiest to write fics for imo.
super excited for this one. river is my baby. i can see her maybe annoying some ppl but river has her reasons for behaving the way she does. girlie is also a chaos magnet (mostly bc she keeps finding it on purpose)
also yes chloe price variant river is real to ME.
the crackship gif was made by perlasun ! & the gorgeous cover was made by @ prettygirIsbite.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ 𓂃 dedications! . . . ✧
-aventurine , i99mrk , nocturnalgoth , bloombeanss , -wonderhaze , girIhorror , boyburns , canineteeth , kaleidoscopess , swankiIIs & anyone else who loves teen wolf/stiles! hopefully i got everyone! if i forgot u i'm sorry!
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ 𓂃 disclaimers! . . . ✧
i do not own teen wolf! i only own river finstock and her backstory. the rights to teen wolf belong to MTV and jeff davis. any changes made to the characters and storylines are done with respect to the creators.
︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ ︎︎ 𓂃 warnings! . . . ✧
potential themes of parental neglect/abandonment, trauma responses, and self-destructive behaviour. underage substance use (drinking/smoking). canon typical content warnings.
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published: march 2nd, 2026
started: to be determined
completed: to be determined