#stiles is the domestic one of the three of them and no i do not take criticism at this time

[sterekbros]

someday soon (884 words) by Winchesterek

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Adopted Children, Kid Fic, Teacher Derek Hale, Fluff, Parents Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Derek Hale, Human Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Children, Slice of Life, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, POV Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Hale Fire (Teen Wolf) Series: Part 2 of Teacher Derek AU For @sterekweekly threshold, @sterekfests baking, @sterekbingo domestic, and @warmandfluffybingocards free space.

The first thing that hit him when he came into the house was the fragrant scent of baked apples. Fall was Stiles’ favorite season. The way the air started to chill and it was just cool enough for him to wear a light jacket or hoodie, but not cold enough for him to wear something like a scarf. It never got that cold in California anyway.

But Fall. Fall was perfect. Everyone started worshiping pumpkin spice, even if Stiles didn't care for it, and the energy surrounding the changing seasons always gave him life despite the world dying around him.

“I’m home!” Stiles called into the house, locking the door behind him with one hand and gripping a grocery bag in the other.

Several little feet came trampling down the stairs before Hailey was yelling, “Daddy!” and Scarlett and James were shouting, “Uncle Stiles!”

Stiles laughed as they surrounded him and squeezed him tight with all their little werewolf strength.

“Where’s Derek?” he asked as he rubbed each of them with one hand, making sure to scent mark each of them.

“He’s in the kitchen!” Hailey practically screamed at him with glee.

“Making apples!” James put in.

“Not apples,” Scarlett chided her brother. “Apple pie! Like grandma used to make!”

That twisted Stiles’ heart in his chest, knowing that sometimes thoughts of his family weren't the best thing for Derek to relive. But pie had to be a good thing, right? Otherwise, why would Derek be making it?

“Oh, apple pie!” James repeated belatedly while Scarlett shook her head at him.

Hailey grabbed Stiles’ free hand and said, “Come on, Daddy!”

He, of course, couldn't deny her. So Stiles followed Hailey into the kitchen with Scarlett and James following behind him.

When they crossed the threshold into the kitchen, Derek was at the oven with the door open, peering into it.

“I brought the turkey breast for our Thanksgiving trial run,” Stiles teased as he raised the bag in his child-free hand. Derek turned around and closed the oven, casting them all a smile.

“Great. But you know we’ll need a giant turkey for our actual Thanksgiving.” Derek crossed the short space between them to take the bag from Stiles and pressed a kiss to his lips. The kids squealed like they always did when they kissed each other. It still made Stiles chuckle after a year of them being together.

“More like two or three turkeys. We might need one for each werewolf that shows up and then we have these little munchkins.” Stiles fake-growled at them and the kids giggled, running out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. Any other time of day and Stiles would be chasing them, getting them ready for bed, and then tucked in for the night.

But right now he needed Derek. He smiled and wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and kissed him again. “How many pies do you have cooking?”

“Three,” Derek replied, wrapping one arm around Stiles and holding him close. “One for the kids and two for us.”

Stiles laughed and kissed Derek again, smiling against his lips.

“Good. Maybe we can take one to bed later and have a snack ‘cause I think we might be up a little late tonight.” Stiles brushed his nose against Derek’s, teething his own lip. “I missed you a lot today…and I need you. All of you.”

Derek gave a muffled moan against Stiles’ neck before sighing and raising his head to kiss Stiles again. “Later,” he promised quietly. “I’ll knot you until you pass out.”

“My hero,” Stiles joked and reluctantly pulled away. “You want me to deal with the turkey?”

“It’s okay. I’ll do it. I’m sure the kids would love to show you their blanket fort where they’ve been having tea time. Then maybe you can get them washed up and ready for dinner? That way as soon as they’re done they’re off to bed after a story or two.”

Stiles smirked and gave Derek a once over. And damn, he was fine. Stiles knew he’d always see Derek this way, even when his hair and beard started to gray. “Someone’s thought this through.”

“Maybe just a little,” Derek replied, putting the bag on the counter. “I’ve had all afternoon to come up with a master plan”

Stiles snorted a small laugh and gave Derek a heated look, wanting to do nothing more than to push Derek up against the counter and drop to his knees until Derek was coming down his throat. But he couldn't do that. Not yet anyway. “Okay, I’m gonna go check out the blanket fort and maybe have a tea party too.”

“I’ll call you guys when dinner is done.”

“And we’ll be ready.” With one last look, Stiles turned and headed up the stairs. They’d grown so much during the last year as a family and Stiles couldn't wait for all the adventures that lay ahead of them.

And maybe someday soon he’d ask Derek to marry him. It wasn't as if Stiles hadn't bought the ring already, because some days it felt like it was burning a hole into his pocket. He reached down to feel if the small box was still there, just to make sure, and smiled.

Yeah. Maybe someday soon.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #eternalsterek #sterek au #sterek event #sterek events #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #sterek fic #sterek is eternal #sterekevents #sterekweekly #stiles x derek #derek x stiles #sterekfests #sterekbingo #sterekfestsfall2023 #sterekfestsbaking #sterekweeklythreshold #mine #my fic #my fics #my writing

[evanesdust]

The Great New Year's Eve Stand-off of 2023

written for- @sterekfests prompt: "Kiss me at midnight." @sterekweekly word: kiss @sterekmonthly word: new year @sterekbingo square: domestic @imagine-sterek's 24, the 2024 sterek event

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Additional Tags: POV Stiles Stilinski, Unofficial Sequel, Established Relationship, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Fluff, Cute Kids

Summary:

As their kids built a fort and planned to stay up for New Year's Eve, Stiles and Derek bet on who would fall asleep first.

Stiles stood in the doorway, watching Derek clean up the mess from dinner. He noticed the way Derek's hands moved with efficient grace, wiping down the countertops and stacking the dishes neatly in the dishwasher. It was a simple task, yet there was something soothing about watching him work, finding a rhythm in the mundane. It was domestic, comforting, and a side of Derek that Stiles hadn't known he'd find so enthralling. Something about his big, bad alpha of a husband doing household chores just didn't fit the stereotype, and that contradiction only made Derek more appealing to Stiles. The room was filled with the clinking of dishes and the soft hum of the dishwasher as it started its cycle.

There was an intimacy in these quiet moments, a shared life that extended beyond the chaos of their daily lives with three rambunctious children. Werewolf children, no less.

"I can feel you staring at me," Derek said without turning around, a small smile playing on his lips. "Is there something you need, or are you just enjoying the view?"

Stiles chuckled, pushing off the doorframe to walk over and wrap his arms around Derek from behind. He rested his chin on Derek's shoulder, soaking in their closeness as he murmured,  "Can't it be both?" 

Derek let out a soft sigh as he leaned back into the embrace. "With you, it's always both." The warmth in his voice was enough to spark a flutter in Stiles's chest. "Is everything okay?"

"Do you think they'll actually stay up all night?" Stiles asked, his fingers playing with the hem of Derek's shirt.

The kids were building a fort in the living room, hopped up on sugar and excitement for counting down to the New Year. The sound of their laughter fluttered in from the other room like music, a symphony of high-pitched giggles and the occasional dramatic roar.

Derek chuckled, turning around to face him, a skeptical arch to his brow before brushing his lips against Stiles's temple. "Honestly, I'll give them until ten before they all crash, just like Christmas. There's only so much energy humanly possible, even with sugar as fuel."

Though ever since winter break started, the kids had proven themselves to be full of surprises, giving Stiles and Derek a run for their money with their seemingly boundless stamina.

"Well, they do have the advantage of being werewolves," Stiles pointed out, dancing his fingers across Derek's chest. "And you and I both know that means a whole different level of energy."

Derek laughed again, the sound warm and deep, echoing the love and joy that filled their home. "True. And I suppose they also have determination on their side."

Stiles chuckled, recalling all the hushed whispers and giggling conspiracies that had filled the house as the kids' plans to stay up late took shape. "Yeah, there's that."

"Still," Derek said, "I think our bets are safe. In the end, they're kids, and kids need sleep, werewolf or not."

And Stiles knew that after all the excitement wore off and the sugar rush faded, they'd succumb to sleep, tangled in a mess of blankets and pillows within their homemade fortress, dreaming of their next adventure.

Derek rubbed the small of Stiles's back, smiling softly at him—the kind of smile that made Stiles's heart flip in his chest. "We should get the camera ready, too. This will be one for the memory books."

"Definitely." Stiles grinned, imagining the sea of cushions and sheets taking over the living room. "It'll be the Great New Year's Eve Stand-off of 2023. I'll have to make sure the batteries are fully charged because I'm betting the aftermath will be even more entertaining than the build-up. They already have a pillow fort set up, too. So even if they don't stay up, I think they're planning to stage a sleep-in protest or something."

Derek's laughter rumbled through Stiles's body, a sound he found himself wanting to capture and keep for the quiet moments when the house would eventually be empty, and the chaos of pitter-pattering little werewolf feet had grown into the steady, calm strides of teenagers.

"Oh yeah? Pillows, blankets, the whole nine yards?" Derek asked, amusement lighting his eyes—probably picturing their children fortifying their New Year's Eve stronghold.

"It's pretty impressive, actually." Stiles's eyes lit up with a fondness that only their children's antics could invoke. "I can't wait to see who'll be the last one standing—or, well, awake." He glanced at the clock, noting the hands steadily creeping towards that hopeful midnight hour. "I'm putting my money on Caleb. He's got that stubborn streak."

Derek chuckled, nodding in agreement. "You might be right. But I wouldn't count Eli out. He snuck in a couple of naps today. The kid's got strategy on his side. And he stayed up the longest on Christmas Eve."

They shared a look, an unspoken agreement that they were in for quite the show. It was a fleeting moment of calm before the storm of laughter and playful shrieks returned, signaling that the kids were nowhere near ready to call it a night.

"They're going to see the ball drop if it's the last thing they do," Derek said with a grin. "Might as well make the most of it, help them build some memories."

Stiles nodded, his gaze softening at the thought of their children determined to usher in the new year with their eyes open and hearts full of joy.

"Yeah, these are the moments they'll remember." For Stiles and Derek, too, and Stiles wouldn't trade it for anything. "Maybe it'll be a new tradition—may the strongest eyelid win."

Derek laughed again, the sound warm and genuine. "I like that. Let's make it happen. But first, we have to survive the sugar high."

The two of them wandered back to the living room, ready to join the fray, to supervise, and to be present for every moment of joy the night would bring. After all, these were the moments that made everything worth it.

As the ball dropped, Stiles glanced down at the kids. They'd been asleep before the countdown had even started, their great stand-off ending anticlimactically in snores and quiet breaths about an hour ago. Each little werewolf curled up under a fortress of pillows, their faces peaceful in slumber—though, surprisingly, Clara had been the last holdout.

Stiles turned to Derek with a grin. "Looks like we were both wrong."

Derek shook his head, smiling as he reached for the camera on the side table, capturing the last few seconds of the old year with a click. With the kids sleeping, the silence of their home, save for the occasional pop and crackle of the fireplace, was a stark contrast to the boisterous noise from earlier in the evening.

"It's perfect," Stiles whispered, leaning into Derek. He smiled as the dim light of the television playing the New Year's Eve festivities cast a soft glow over them.

Derek placed the camera down, pulling Stiles closer to his side.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper so he didn't disturb the tranquil scene before them.

The clock struck midnight, and as the world outside erupted in cheers and fireworks, Stiles's world was right here, within the walls of their home—in the quiet heartbeat of their family.

Derek tipped his chin up for a gentle kiss, a silent celebration of another year together. It was a simple, quiet moment that held the weight of all their shared years and love.

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, returning the kiss with equal tenderness. As they pulled apart, Stiles whispered against Derek's lips, "Happy New Year, Derek."

Derek's response was a soft smile and a tighter embrace. "Happy New Year, Stiles."

In the warmth of their hold, the soft crackle of the fireplace, and the gentle rhythm of their children's breathing, they welcomed the new year—a promise of more love, challenges, and memories to be made.

#sterek #sterekfests #sterekfestswinter2023 #sterekfestsmidnight #sterekweekly #sterekweeklykiss #sterekmonthly #sterekmonthlynewyear #sterekbingo #imagine sterek #holy shit i wrote something

[kitchenisking]

Its Sunday! we've now made it to the end of the weekend so to make the pain of going back to the real world and little less, here's one more fic😘

Inevitable You by Red_City - (Rating: Mature, Words: 22261, sterek)

"I'm Derek's mate," Stiles gets out, breathing hard. There is silence in the room.

As he looks around, he realizes that everyone else knew.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered by TheVoiceofWrath (meet_your_fate) - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 20653, sterek)

Derek's soul isn't worth anything. Can't be, right? Not after everything. It's an easy decision for him, then, to offer it up in exchange for his sister's life.

If only the demon he makes the deal with weren't so intent on hanging around until Derek's contract is up...

Cursed Playlist by drunkunicorn - (Rating: G, Words: 1672, sterek)

And then there it is. Almost at the bottom of his playlist list with a simple wolf emoji. Stiles lets out a breath that is supposed to signify amusement and opens it. No description, no cover, just a wolf emoji and 5-hour play time. He looks through the songs and feeling slightly better than before clicks on a song he doesn’t recognize.

It starts slow, the voice is quiet and slightly whiny, piano in the background that almost makes Stiles cry again. So, he lets it play. And then another. And then another. And then he recognizes one of the songs that started this whole thing, and it just clicks for him.

Derek.

No Putting a Werewolf Off Your Scent by nakatas_cat - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3811, sterek)

Stiles forgets his Adderall. Derek's affected.

show you what all that howl is for. by doctorkaitlyn - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 21847, sterek)

It's been months since he first touched Derek, when he affirmed that he was real and not going anywhere, but the fact still hasn't really set in. Truthfully, he doesn't know if it ever will. He thinks (and hopes) that, for the rest of his life, he is going to be continually surprised (and thankful) that someone so wonderful is in his life, and all it took to find him was for his dog to run away.

(or the one with shameless domestic fluff, where everyone is happy and everybody owns a dog.)

The Power of Pumpkin Magic by princecharmingwinks - (Rating: T, Words: 1893, sterek)

"If you don't want money, I'll buy you a pie. I just need you to be my boyfriend for the next five minutes." 

---

Stiles just thought it was another day of working on his thesis at his favourite bookshop. What he didn’t count on was the power of pumpkin magic.

Sharing Food by aussiebee - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 9564, sterek)

"Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly." ― M.F.K. Fisher

Or

Derek is pretty much absorbed into the Stilinski family, one meal at a time.

Softly by IntoTheAbyssWeGo - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 25217, sterek)

What's Stiles supposed to do when he hears someone crying in the bathroom stall? Comfort them, of course! Too bad he never found out who they were. On a completely unrelated note, why is Derek Hale staring at him? No matter what Scott says, Stiles is sure he didn't do anything to piss the most popular boy at school off!.... At least he's pretty sure...

Hic Sunt Hormones by KaliopeShipsIt - (Rating: G, Words: 9570, sterek)

Five times Derek and Stiles didn't pregnancy so well - and one time they did.

Nothing You Could Say by SylvieW - (Rating: Mature, Words: 13606, sterek)

Stiles’ second year of college is not working out as he planned. He rarely sees Scott, his job is exhausting, and to get home after his shift, he has to walk at three in the morning. Nearly getting mugged is the icing on the cake, but luckily a gruff stranger is there to rescue him. But now Stiles can’t seem to shake the feeling that he’s not alone in the dark.

#stiles stilinski #stiles x derek #derek hale #sterek #fanfic #fanfiction #ficrec #kitcheniskingficrecs

[fyeahsterek72]

I AM a Fairy Tale!

So a few days ago I put up a post asking for drabble prompts for all of, like 30 minutes before I chickened out and took it back down again. WELL, in that time, the lovely @nerdherderette saw the post and sent me this:

Hi lovely! If you're still taking drabble prompts I'd love to see something Halloween themed with costumes. Either sexy/clubby, or tooth-rottingly sweet and domestic (maybe with kids ;)) <333

I went with domestic, though no kids. This is for you, @nerdherderette!

Derek was enjoying a cup of tea as Stiles burst into the loft holding two garment bags. Stiles had been living with him going on three months now and their lives were starting to become enmeshed. The loft smelled just as much like Stiles as it did Derek. It looked more lived in, there was more noise and laughter.

Derek felt loved.

Living with someone, however, also meant that you got invited to all the same parties as them, and this one, Stiles had insisted, was not to be missed.

Stiles had attended the police station’s annual Halloween party every year of his life (except for the year they referred to as Season 3B - Stiles had an easier time talking about it if he could dissociate himself from it a little, and pretending that period had been a television arc helped him, so Season 3B it was). He insisted that it was the most fun you could have in Beacon Hills outside of giving each other blowjobs in the alley behind the Jungle. Derek had just rolled his eyes.

It wasn’t just any old get together, either; it was a costume party. Families were invited, and the kids loved dressing up with the adults. “There’s pumpkin carving and apple bobbing and prizes, Derek!” Stiles had exclaimed, as if that alone would be the thing that convinced Derek that he’d have an excellent time. Derek had just sighed.

Stiles had asked Derek what he wanted to dress up as a month ago (“Because these things take planning, Derek,” Stiles had insisted) and Derek, who didn’t want to go to the Halloween party and sure as hell didn’t want to dress up, had thought for a moment before answering, “I want to be an idiom,” challenge in his eyes.

Stiles had scrunched up his face in befuddlement, saying, “You want to be an idiom?” expression turning to a glare because Stiles knew all of Derek’s plays. His eyes narrowed like he was preparing for a life or death challenge, and he said, wagging his finger, “You think you’ve bested me, but you have not, Derek Hale. I will find a costume for you, and it will be awesome.”

Derek had just smirked.

And now Stiles was standing before him, a look of triumph on his face, holding out a garment bag for Derek to take. It was heavy and smelled of sheep. He unzipped the bag to find a magnificent cloak made entirely of black sheep’s pelts.

“I have a friend in the theater department of the college and she let me borrow these on the condition that we do not get them dirty.”

He unzipped his garment bag to reveal a long, deep red, velvet cloak.

“We’re wearing cloaks,” Derek stated, not understanding Stiles’ glee.

He smiled even brighter and said, “Get it out and put it on. It’s pretty amazing. I guess they used it in their last production of Hamlet.”

It was a beautiful cloak, with a thick collar of long, curly black wool and embroidery along the edges. It made Derek feel regal. He liked it, although he would never admit it to Stiles.

“Do you get it? Stiles asked, glee lighting his eyes again.

Derek looked at him in befuddlement.

Stiles rolled his eyes and, voice rising the more excited he became, said, “You’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing!!! You’re an idiom!!!”

Derek looked at the floor and shook his head, smiling and saying, “I only said that because I didn’t want to go to the party.”

“Well, duh, but if you think something like that is going to stop me, you don’t know me that well at all.”

“No one is going to get it, though,” Derek pointed out.

“Yeah, so I figured we could tell them that you’re Jon Snow and I’m like, a lackey or something. I also got these, but we don’t have to bring them,” he said, holding out two fake swords in sheaths.

“Why would a wolf in sheep’s clothing have a sword?” Derek asked.

“To kill the sheep Derek, keep up. You are killing sheep to eat them,” he answered with an eyeroll.

“So then what are you?” Derek asked.

Stiles gave Derek a devilish smirk and said, “Again, to everyone else, I am your lackey, but between us, I’m Little Red Riding Hood, ready for you to eat me all up. I was considering just wearing my red hoodie and bringing my bat, but I knew you’d be all, ‘That’s what you wear every fricking day, Stiles,’ so I got the cloak.’”

Stiles stared off into nothing, mouth hanging open, eyes squinted, just as he did every time something monumental was occurring to him.

“Oh my god, Derek; I AM Little Red Riding Hood! I run around with wolves, some of them have literally wanted to eat me, and you do eat me on a regular basis. I am a fairy tale!” he exclaimed, looking at Derek as if he had figured out the meaning of life.

“You are a dork is what you are, but you are also very delicious,” Derek said with a smirk.

“Just don’t eat my grandmother, okay? Nona is very old and brittle and probably wouldn’t taste very good with all the medications she takes,” Stiles quipped.

“I can’t make any promises, especially if she tastes half as good as her grandson,” Derek snarled, advancing upon Stiles.

You can read my Sterek fics on AO3

#drabble #teenwolf #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek #halloween #costumes #domestic #idioms

[when-they-write-stuff]

SOMETIMES, STILES THOUGHT he understood Derek Hale.

Other times, he thought he never would.

The man was a million things tucked into a leather jacket. Stiles remembered the first time he’d seen Derek in the preserve; scowling, grey-green eyes hard, with an air around him that made younger Stiles a little bit terrified and a little bit intrigued at the same time. And honestly, if he would’ve known then that one meeting would turn into a whirlwind of chaos afterward, the younger version of him might have turned right back around and walked away without thinking twice.

Or maybe he would’ve just grinned. Grinned, knowing that one little meeting with the grumpiest werewolf in Beacon Hills would one day turn into a little bit more. 

If he just had the patience to wait, that is.

But that was then and this was now. Sitting in the loft with the rest of the pack, some rom-com that Lydia had picked out playing on the TV, though most of them were only half paying attention. Scott was all wrapped around Allison, Erica had fallen asleep in Boyd’s lap, and Lydia was scrolling through her phone while Jackson snored at her side. Stiles sat on the floor by himself and watched the TV silently, his brain not even caring what was happening onscreen at the moment.

From somewhere in the kitchen behind all of them, he could hear the faint sound of running water and clinking dishes.

The movie changed scenes— the main couple was kissing. Stiles sighed and pushed himself up.

Isaac made a sound of protest as Stiles accidentally blocked his view, craning his neck to see around. And honestly, the beta seemed to be the only one of them that actually cared about what was happening. Had it been any other time, Stiles might have made fun of him.

But instead, he just rolled his eyes and moved around the couch.

There was a stack of empty pizza boxes on the counter as he entered the kitchen and a line of clean plates next to the sink. Stiles paused in the doorway for a second and stared at Derek literal Hale standing in front of the sink with a towel thrown over his shoulder and an apron wrapped around his hips; a rare sighting of the man without his jacket on.

Then, like a wild animal caught on camera, Derek turned the water off and turned around, giving Stiles an unimpressed look.

“What.”

Stiles hoped his face didn’t look as red as it felt as he snapped out of his thoughts. Forcing himself to just shrug, he moved further into the kitchen and pulled the fridge open, staring unseeingly at the leftovers that he really didn’t care about.

After a long moment of silence, Stiles heard Derek turn the water back on and waited for a few more seconds before stepping back and shutting the fridge again.

“So…” he said, desperately trying not to pay attention to how utterly domestic Derek Hale looked. The man glanced over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

“So.”

“Uh. Do you need any help?”

Derek shut off the water again and Stiles noticed for the first time that there weren’t any more dishes left— Derek finished toweling off the last one and gave Stiles a flat look. “No.”

Internally, Stiles cursed himself. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

Derek pressed his lips together, still looking unimpressed. And before he could continue making a fool of himself or Derek could make him feel any more judged, Stiles nodded again and quickly exited the kitchen. Isaac glanced up from the couch as he moved back over, a definite smirk on his lips.

“Nice one, Stilinski. You call that flirting?”

Stiles’s heart skipped at least three beats and he threw a look over his shoulder back toward the kitchen— but all he could hear was the sound of cabinets opening and closing. Derek didn’t seem to have heard the beta.

Clenching his jaw, Stiles gave Isaac the darkest death glare he could muster. “Shut up, Lahey, or I swear to god, will strangle you with your own scarf.”

Isaac smirked wider. “I don’t think Derek would like that very much.”

“I really don’t care what Derek would think.”

“Yeah, we all know that’s not true.”

Stiles glanced over at the others but nobody was even paying their conversation any attention. Well, nobody awake, anyway. Stiles glared back at Isaac, who looked even smugger.

“What, Stilinski? Do you want me to talk a little bit louder?”

“Okay,” Stiles said, shoving himself back up. “You’re an asshole and that’s my cue to leave.”

And just like that, Derek materialized in the doorway of the kitchen. “You’re leaving?”

Stiles blinked at the man, pretty sure his heart had skipped another few beats. Because Derek hadn’t been listening in to any of their conversation, had he? “Uhm, yeah. I’ve got… stuff to do. Important stuff. To do.”

Isaac snorted loudly and then covered it up with the fakest sounding cough Stiles had ever heard. Grinding his teeth together, Stiles reminded himself to throw all of the beta’s scarves into the toilet the next time he came around. 

Derek looked at him for a moment longer before nodding. The man turned around, disappeared back into the kitchen, and Stiles gave Isaac one last furious look.

The beta just smirked and Stiles hated him even more.

Except, as he turned back around to make for the door, Derek came out of the kitchen again. This time, the man approached him with something in his hands.

“Uh,” Stiles froze, blinking at the container that Derek pushed into his hands. He looked down at it, glanced back up at Derek, and then carefully pulled the top off, realizing with a start that it was the rest of the leftover pizza. Blinking again, he gave Derek a confused look. “This is pizza.”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Stiles didn’t know how to react. “You know my dad will eat this the moment I bring it home, right?”

For a moment, Stiles could’ve sworn he caught a touch of red in Derek’s cheeks; the man almost looked flustered. But then Derek just shrugged, turning back away, and Stiles was left gawking at the werewolf’s back.

Isaac made a strange noise from the couch. It sounded a little bit like a strangled groan.

Shaking his head, Stiles shoved the lid back onto the container and threw one more confused glance toward the kitchen before heading for the door. And, leftovers in hand, he honestly didn’t know what to think.

It was times like this he didn’t think he’d ever understand Derek Hale.

-

The night Stiles was stuck out in the preserve with Derek, it was raining.

He figured that sounded about right. They’d all drawn straws to decide who would be on watch for the omega that was running loose around Beacon Hills, and Stiles had immediately drawn the shortest one. And then, just because it was his luck, Deaton called Scott, his watch-buddy, in for an emergency shift.

So Stiles was going to have to go out on his own. But then Derek stepped in.

Which really wasn’t so bad, right? Stiles had been alone with Derek Hale before. Like… literally the first day after they’d met. When Stiles had been driving the near-dead werewolf around for a full day while Scott attempted to infiltrate the Argent’s house.

So yeah, he could handle one night. Easily.

But then they got out in the preserve and it started raining. Stiles thought that would make things a little less enjoyable.

“So,” he said, trying not to shiver as his hoodie stuck to his skin like wet paper. “This is nice.”

Derek shot him a sideways glance, not even looking the least bit bothered by the cold as raindrops rolled right off his leather jacket. And Stiles thought the entire world was unfair sometimes. Running a hand through his hair, he attempted to pull up his hood, but it was already soaked through, doing nothing but making his hair even wetter.

He groaned. “Yeah, this isn’t nice at all.”

To that, Derek paused and looked him up and down. Then the man sighed— like Stiles was the ridiculous one— and stripped off his jacket, shoving it into Stiles’s chest. 

Stiles froze, not even daring to touch it for a second.

“Er, Derek?”

“Put it on,” Derek said, letting go. Stiles barely managed to catch the jacket before it dropped into the mud and he blinked as Derek started forward again, head slightly bowed against the rain. The man’s long-sleeved t-shirt instantly started to stick against his skin.

Stiles stared after the man, looked down at the jacket held tightly in his hands, and then looked back up. Except, Derek wasn’t slowing down and he cursed silently, pulling the thing over his shoulders before hurrying after the man.

The jacket was like a portable heater. Stiles probably could have melted into it if his mind wasn’t spinning so fast, shoving his hands into the warm pockets as he stumbled after Derek.

“Dude, Derek, dude.”

Derek finally paused and turned around, giving him a pained look. Stiles fumbled to a stop and despite everything, wrapped the jacket further around himself. Even as he asked the question,

“Are you sure?”

Derek raised an eyebrow, looking from the jacket to Stiles’s face. Stiles flushed. 

“I mean, if you’re not—”

“There’s nothing out here tonight,” Derek interrupted, turning his gaze to the dark trees around them. “Let’s head back.”

Stiles snapped his mouth closed, staring at the man. But once more, Derek didn’t wait for an answer before starting off in a random direction. Shaking his head, Stiles hurried after him, feet slipping and sliding in the mud.

So, Derek Hale was officially the biggest grumpy-growly weirdo Stiles had met, he decided. One who owned an incredibly warm leather jacket.

He understood that much about the man at least.

-

Sometimes, Stiles hated werewolves.

Mostly, he decided one day, laying in bed feeling like he was dying, he hated them for their stupid immune systems. Because honestly, how was it even fair that the assholes couldn’t get sick?

Stiles didn’t see how that followed nature’s rules in any way.

He, on the other hand, was very capable of getting sick. And approximately two days after his dad came home with a slight cold, Stiles caught the thing so hard, it felt like he’d been hit by a truck.

Sometimes, he hated werewolves. And laying in bed, his head pounding and his nose feeling like it was about to start leaking out his brain, Stiles very nearly considered calling up Derek and taking the bite.

Then, as if his thoughts had somehow summoned the werewolf, Stiles’s window was shoved up and Derek pulled himself through.

Despite everything, Stiles didn’t even have the energy to be startled. A psychotic murderer could have come through the window and he wouldn’t even lift his head to complain. In fact, he’d take a psycho murderer if it meant his headache would stop.

He was pretty sure Derek had frozen the moment the man’s feet touched the carpet, because silence descended over the room for a moment. Then, he blinked up as Derek plodded over to his bed and glanced down at him, brows knitted tightly together.

“Stiles.”

Stiles gazed up at him blearily. Derek sniffed deeply and then drew back, looking repulsed. Which— rude.

“You smell bad.”

Stiles groaned loudly, which turned into a sharp cough, which turned into a minor lung hacking, before pulling his blankets up over his head. “Fuck you too, Derek.”

Once more, the room was silent. After a long moment, Stiles peeked back out again and saw Derek was still watching him with a mildly concerned look on his face. After another long minute of literal staring, Stiles sighed. 

“I haven’t showered in like two days, dude. Stop looking at me like that.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles groaned again.

“I’m sick, asshole.”

The man’s face finally cleared. Stiles noticed for the first time that Derek had the bestiary in his hands— and there was no way in hell he was doing research right now. But then Derek set the book on his bedside table and tucked his hands into his pockets, looking a little awkward. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“What can I do?”

Stiles blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What do you need?”

And that was the last response he’d expected to hear from Derek Hale. Ever. “Uhm, nothing? It’s fine. I’m just going to lay here until I wither up and die, but everyone has to go at some point, right?”

To those words, Derek definitely looked concerned. The man’s eyes flashed red for a second and Stiles startled, drawing the blankets further up to his chin.

“That was a joke, Sourwolf.”

But the man just looked at him for another moment before turning back around and heading for the window. Stiles didn’t even have a chance to protest before Derek was pulling himself right back out— and Stiles stared at the empty sill for a moment before sighing heavily.

Stupid sickness immune werewolves. Derek probably thought this was a life or death situation or something.

And honestly, Stiles didn’t expect to see the man again. After all, he smelled bad.

God, he hated werewolves.

His dad had gone back to work that morning and though it had been Stiles’s idea, telling the man he wasn’t five anymore and didn’t need anyone to ‘take care of him’, Stiles still kind of wished he had someone to complain to. Or someone to make him soup. Or even someone to bring him more tissues when he grabbed the last one out of the box.

Because honestly, the very thought of leaving his bed and searching for more seemed like an impossible task. For one bleak moment, Stiles had actually debated using the t-shirt next to his bed.

Then he realized he was losing his mind.

After what felt like a million hours had passed since Derek had left, and Stiles was right on the verge of falling asleep, his window was shoved up again. Stiles snapped right back to reality so fast his headache came back like an avalanche. In that moment, he vowed he was going to murder whoever had just interrupted his sweet, sweet escape into the darkness.

When he could make himself get out of bed, that is.

But then Stiles realized it was Derek. Derek, with a round styrofoam container held in one hand and a grocery bag held from the other. Struggling to sit up, Stiles gave the werewolf an incredulous look, and Derek approached the bed carefully.

The man was still looking at him like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

“I brought soup.”

Stiles just stared.

Derek set the round container on his bedside table and then pulled a spoon out of the plastic bag. Close behind it was a packet of crackers, a box of tissues, and a white bottle of painkillers.

“Boyd said chicken noodle works best,” Derek said, still avoiding Stiles’s blatant stare as he popped the top of the container off. “It should still be hot, so—”

“Derek,” Stiles said, cutting him off. Looking pained, the man finally met his gaze.

“... I also brought crackers.”

“Crackers.”

“For the soup.”

For the soup. Yeah, Stiles had to give it to him; that was a fair answer.

But what?

Before Stiles couldn’t even think of an appropriate reaction to everything that was currently unfolding, Derek was pushing the container of soup into his hands. Instantly, the smell of warmth managed to drift into Stiles’s clogged nose and he almost melted into the mattress, mouth watering.

He hadn’t even realized how hungry he was.

“You brought me soup,” Stiles mumbled, still a little lost in his own head. Derek’s face remained carefully blank and the man nodded once.

“You’re sick.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t actually expect soup—”

Except, Derek didn’t even give him a chance to finish that sentence. Instead, as if dropping off an entire ‘get better now’ cold-care package was all he’d come back to do, the man moved back over to the window. Though still, Derek paused there for a moment, glancing back, and Stiles could’ve sworn his eyes flickered for a moment. The man pressed his lips together, looked like he was going to say something else, and then pulled himself back out.

Stiles gaped in shock at the once more empty window. Because Derek was gone. And this time, Stiles was sure the man was not coming back.

He didn’t even know what to think of the werewolf anymore.

-

Stiles thought it was a little ridiculous how Derek had never learned how to knock.

That’s what he assumed, anyway, when his window was shoved up on a random Friday midnight and Derek the Grumpy Werewolf pulled himself through like he owned the place. Had it been any other weeknight or had Stiles been attempting to sleep, he might have been a little pissed. But as of that night, he was completely procrastinating sleep, and honestly, what use was telling Derek Hale ‘no’ anyway?

The man never knew how to take that for an answer.

Sighing, Stiles paused whatever Youtube video had been playing and half-closed his laptop, giving Derek a raised-eyebrow look.

“Yes, oh alpha of mine?”

For some reason, the man automatically frowned. “You’re still awake.”

And wasn’t that was a creepy way to start the conversation? Stiles blinked and closed his laptop the rest of the way. “Uh, yeah, dude, I am. Now please tell me you weren’t hoping for the opposite because this isn’t Twilight and I own an insane amount of wolfsbane. Just so you know.”

To that, Derek rolled his eyes. “No, Stiles.”

“‘No, Stiles’ what?”

The man just gave him a flat look— but that had been a fair question, okay?

One Stiles clearly wasn’t getting an answer to.

“Okay, then,” he said, raising his hands. “Just be all weird and creepy then, why don’t you? Yes, Sourwolf, I am awake. And no, I don’t plan on going to sleep any time soon. So do you need something?”

Derek hesitated for a moment before pulling something out of his pocket and stepping forward. Stiles sat straighter as the man dropped a set of keys onto his blankets— and automatically balked.

“Are those my car keys?”

Derek shoved his hands into his pockets and looked a little constipated. “Your jeep is parked in the driveway.”

“My jeep is… I’m sorry, what?”

“Parked in the driveway.”

Stiles stared at the man. Then he shoved himself up and stumbled to the window. And sure enough, his jeep was there. A little bit shiny looking, the duct tape no longer wrapped around the driver’s door handle, and wearing what looked like a new set of tires.

Slowly, Stiles turned back around. “Derek, my jeep was at mechanics.”

“Yes.”

Stiles stared. “Because it wouldn’t start.”

“Yes.”

“And it’s been there for three weeks because I couldn’t afford to get it fixed.”

Derek gave Stiles a look that made him feel like the idiot. As if all of this was somehow supposed to make sense. Because…

“Derek, did you pay to have my car fixed?”

The man didn’t answer for a long moment. Stiles took a deep breath, forcing himself not to turn right back around and stare at his jeep for a minute longer. Just to make sure all of this was real.

“Dude, I’m gonna need an answer. That really wasn’t a hard question.”

“... Yes.”

For a moment, all Stiles heard was white noise. Then he stalked forward and shoved a finger into Derek’s chest, but the man didn’t even move. “What do you mean, you fixed my car? Derek! Oh my god, how much did it cost? I’m going to need to get a job to pay you back. No, two jobs. And dip into my college funds. Oh my god!”

Derek finally reacted— by rolling his eyes. “I don’t want you to pay me back.”

“You don’t what ?”

If Stiles was overreacting a little bit, it wasn’t his fault. No, it definitely wasn’t. It was Derek Hale’s fault because apparently, the man thought it was normal to go around paying for people’s car repairments and—

Stiles blinked, staring blankly at the wall beyond Derek’s shoulder. “I’m gonna faint.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up and he stepped forward; to which Stiles reacted by raising his hands and stumbling back. Ramming into the nearest wall, he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Nope, nope, nope. Do not get any closer, dude. Don’t take one more step. In fact, I think I’m gonna need a minute.”

“I can go,” Derek said, sounding uncertain. Stiles opened one eye and stared at him. 

“That… might be a good idea.”

And it probably wasn’t. No, it definitely wasn’t. But Stiles didn’t know what to think, he didn’t know how to react, and if Derek stuck around any longer, he might feel the need to throw himself out the window instead of sending the man away through it. And his dad would probably not appreciate that. 

Oh god, how was he going to explain this to his dad?

Derek looked at him for a moment longer, concern still written across his face. But then he just nodded and moved back toward the window. Stiles didn’t even watch the man leave, his attention fully fixed on the set of keys on his bed. His stomach flipped.

Derek Hale had just paid to fix his car. 

Stiles had never not understood the werewolf more.

-

It took a while for Stiles to regain the courage to go back to the loft.

The way things had ended the last time he’d been face to face with Derek Hale, he wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to expect. But stepping through the front door, it was clear almost instantly that nothing had changed.

Somehow, literally nothing had changed.

The betas were all gathered around the couch watching something on TV. Stiles caught what smelled like pancakes and heard the sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen. He stood still for a moment, head-spinning, and then moved toward the noise.

Derek was moving around the room with a towel thrown over his shoulder and a line of clean dishes next to an empty sink. The man’s grey-green eyes took their time drifting to where Stiles stood, gaping, and he just raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you were coming by.”

Stiles opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no idea what to say.

There was a stack of pancakes next to the stove.

“Are you hungry?”

And with those words, Stiles finally snapped back to reality. Slipping a hand into his pocket, he gripped his keys tightly and stepped forward, holding Derek’s gaze. Because dammit, all of this was throwing him through a loop and he didn’t know how to react anymore. It was driving him crazy.

“Derek, we need to talk.”

The man’s other brow raised and he crossed his arms; Stiles swallowed hard.

“Somewhere else.”

Because the last thing he wanted was any of the betas listening in to their conversation. Derek studied him for a moment longer before nodding and pulling the towel off his shoulder, dropping it onto the counter. Running his hands nervously through his hair, Stiles followed the man out of the kitchen, toward the loft door.

Isaac was the only one who looked away from the TV. The little bastard was smirking wide and obvious.

Stiles ground his teeth together and followed Derek out of the loft.

He’d kind of expected things to be awkward right from the start when he’d stepped foot in the loft. But Derek was acting like the entire event from a week ago hadn’t even happened. Meanwhile, Stiles could barely even look at his jeep without remembering every last word said.

Out in the hallway, Derek gave Stiles a blank look, his expression not betraying a thing. And, god, Stiles hated that about the werewolf sometimes.

“So,” he said, words sticking to his throat. “Yeah.”

Derek’s brows furrowed. Stiles cursed himself internally, biting down hard on his lower lip.

“Derek, what the hell is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

Stiles gaped at the man before shaking his head. Because he wasn’t imagining these things, dammit. “Uh, what do I mean? Derek!” He rubbed a hand over his face. “My car. The jacket. The constant weird leftovers and that one random time I was sick, you literally brought me soup? Even Scott didn’t bring me soup! And I had been complaining through text to him the entire day.”

Derek’s right eye twitched. The man didn’t say a word. Stiles’s head spun.

“I’m not going crazy,” he said. And he kind of needed to hear that out loud, even if he was the one to say it. “I just… I don’t understand you.”

Derek's face did something strange— maybe he looked a little red. But he didn’t say a word and Stiles hated him a little bit.

“I’m not going crazy, Derek.”

“No,” the man said, something in his expression finally softening. Stiles stared and Derek shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at the wall over Stiles’s shoulder. “You’re not.”

Stiles swallowed hard, desperately hoping the man wasn’t going to leave him at that. Because he didn’t think he could manage more half explanations. The silence stretched as Derek didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then the man dropped his gaze.

“I… don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.”

“I’m gonna need more than that, dude.”

Derek scowled at nothing. The man literally looked constipated now and Stiles might have been a little bit worried if he wasn’t so confused. So damn confused.

“Derek, do what?”

“All of… this! All of this, dammit, Stiles!”

Stiles startled. But before he even had a chance to react, Derek was moving forward. And then there were hands on the sides of his head, desperate lips pressing against his own, and Stiles jolted, nearly yanking back, and then all but melted into the touch.

For a moment Stiles.exe stopped working. His brain officially logged off and his instincts took over, leading Stiles to press right back, kissing Derek as hard as he could. 

And if this was another thing he didn’t understand about Derek Hale, Stiles never wanted to figure the man out.

He kissed Derek hard and hungry. Because how long had he wanted to do this? There was a not-so-little part of him that had imagined kissing Derek Hale. Ever since Stiles had first laid eyes on the man. And okay, maybe he didn’t understand it, maybe he didn’t understand him, but at the same time, maybe Stiles had never wanted anything more. Wanted to know something, know someone, more.

At the rate his thoughts were going, that’s what he clung to anyway.

Derek broke contact first. The man drew back almost as fast as he had moved forward and Stiles was left standing there for a moment, swaying just a little, torn between catching Derek’s lips once more or passing out right where he stood.

But when he met Derek’s gaze, the man looked terrified. The coolness of the werewolf’s expression had finally vanished and Stiles wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Derek’s expression hold so much before.

“Oh,” he said. And yeah, that was the first thing that left his mouth. If possible, Derek’s face paled even more.

“I’m sorry.”

Stiles blinked. Just like that, he didn’t understand a thing about Derek Hale all over again. “You’re… what?”

“I’m sorry,” Derek said, clenching his jaw. “I shouldn’t— I didn’t—”

“Derek.”

The man cut off and looked at him with what could only be called a fragile expression. Stiles swallowed hard, all of it crashing down on him suddenly.

“Derek.”

“Stiles.”

Stiles stared. Derek Hale… god, Derek Hale was an enigma wrapped up in a leather jacket. Every time Stiles thought he was getting close to understanding even the smallest thing about the man, something had to change. Soup on a shitty day or a set of keys dropped onto his mattress. And sometimes Stiles thought he understood Derek Hale. But other times, he thought he never would.

The feel of the kiss still lingered on his lips. Maybe… just maybe he could understand that much. For a moment.

Stiles stepped forward carefully. “You confuse the hell out of me.”

Derek stayed stiff and silent. Reaching out, Stiles brushed the tips of his fingers against the man’s own.

“You’re like a thousand lines of red string, Derek Hale.”

Something flickered in Derek’s eyes. Stiles couldn’t tell if it was confusion or a hint of nervousness. Maybe it was a little bit of both.

Licking his lips, Stiles tilted his chin up and searched the man’s face. “I’m not sure I’ll ever fully understand you.”

This time, Derek looked a little pained. Stiles offered a small smile.

“But I’d like to.”

Grey-green eyes flickered with the faintest hue of red. Stiles closed that last foot of space between them and took Derek’s hands fully, hoping the werewolf couldn’t hear how fast his heart was racing. Because he felt a little lightheaded and a little nauseous— like if this didn’t work out, he might throw up.

Which totally was not sexy at all.

“Derek?”

The man stared at him. The barest hint of color had finally returned to his cheeks. “Stiles.”

“You should totally kiss me again.”

Derek blinked. His expression did something strange. And then it was like the tension had been wiped from his face. In the breath of a moment, warm lips were pressing against Stiles’s again and this time, there was nothing desperate about it. Nothing hard, nothing sudden, nothing rash. The man kissed him warm, careful, and it was kind of like a leather jacket being draped over his shoulders in the cold of the rain.

Stiles smiled against Derek’s lips. Because honestly, there was something about it that just seemed right. And he thought he knew what it all could become. 

He'd like to, at least.

For the moment, though, Stiles kissed the man with just as much hope and decided he understood that much.

#sterek #teen wolf #sterek prompt #sterek fanfiction #ficlet #derek hale #stiles stilinski #stiles x derek #eternalsterek #prompts

[christinesficrecs]

I just reread 'cool story, bro' and I was wondering if you have more fics where derek is the first of the two to fall in love and to want to date stiles. (my app crashed when I was sending you an ask sorry if you get this twice!)

Hey :) So many tropes to choose from!!! But try these ones. 💜

cool story, bro by drunktuesdays | 13K | Explicit

After Brad was bitten, Stiles couldn’t stop himself from having a bit of a tantrum.

He wasn’t a monster. He waited until his twin had gotten out of the ER and everyone had gone home safely. Then he went out to the woods with Scott and Allison, and Stiles had a hissy fit.

A Crumpled Bouquet of Pink Flowers by Vendelin | 2.4K

Derek passive-aggressively courts Stiles

You’d Be So Good To Come Home To by SylvieW | 5K

In Stiles’ final year of college, Derek decides to rebuild the Hale house. He keeps asking for Stiles’ opinion on the house plans. Stiles doesn't realize that Derek is building the house with a mate in mind.

last night's dress (tiptoe out of this mess) by hito | 16.7K | Mature

TFLN: My dad just asked me if my booty call guy that comes over at 3am and leaves at 6 would like to stay for Sunday brunch next week. You in?

Game On by stilinskisparkles | 6.3K

Derek first sees him from across the quad four days into fall semester. He’s sitting on one of the long benches, a marker pen in his mouth, grinning at something the kid lounging on the bench beside him is saying. When he laughs properly he pulls the pen out and throws his head back, his neck a long, lean line Derek is entranced by. He flicks the page in his book and highlights something, tossing the cap up in the air and catching it with his teeth.

Mating Habits of the Domesticated North American Werewolf by lielabell | 35.4K | Mature

Derek doesn’t do pining. He doesn’t. So when it becomes clear that Stiles is much more interested in having Derek as a new best friend than a boyfriend, he puts on his big boy pants and makes it fucking work. He becomes the best goddamn friend a spastic teenager could ever hope to have.

seems to me it's chemistry by HalfFizzbin | 4.1K

Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that's ever happened to him.

By a Law Divine by mirrorkill | 23.1K | Mature

Okay, so, kissing Stiles. That's a weird thing that Derek's doing now. He has no idea where it's even coming from, especially considering bickering and fighting is their usual state of existence. And then he does find out where it's coming from: A curse that's making everyone in town kiss someone they have mutual feelings for. …yeah, Derek's not even sure why he's surprised by that.

I’ve been making lots of plans (it’s cool we’re just friends) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) | 5.6K

Stiles had really been enjoying the one on one time with Derek this past summer. Dude’s a seriously awesome friend, always paying for shit, always doing stuff that he somehow knows Stiles will like, going along with the million traditions Stiles has created for the two of them. Is it weird that Stiles kind of wants to date him now? It's gonna suck being back at Berkeley and not having Derek with him.

I Just Want You For My Own (More Than You Could Ever Know) by yodasyoyo | 16K

What is with that sweater, dude?”

Derek ducks his head to look at it, abashed. “Uh- Mrs Hernandez knitted it for me. It’s an early Christmas gift.” He smooths it down self-consciously.

Stiles cocks an eyebrow.

“What? She’s my neighbor and sometimes I-” Derek trails off. Stiles’ other eyebrow rises to join the first, and Derek sighs. “Sometimes I help her carry her groceries."

Of course he does. One day maybe Stiles will stop being in love with Derek Hale, but today is not that day.

Call Me (Cliché) by SomewheresSword | 84.6K | Mature

When the sheriff's sister ends up in a wheelchair for the duration of summer, Stiles' dreams of three months full of pack bonding, late-night video games and bro-time with Scott come crashing down. He's temporarily relocated to Redford, a three hour drive away, and he can already tell he won't be getting many visitors.

Sure the pack will forget about him while he's gone, Stiles is determined to make the most of his summer of isolation, training his body and mind - and his magic - so he can come back with a bang, and maybe catch a certain Sourwolf's eye.

Then Derek shows up at his window one night with a flimsy excuse about needing research done. Suddenly, his summer away is looking a whole lot more interesting.

***

how stiles and derek got together | accidental relationship

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #pining!derek #oblivious!stiles #caroandcats

[eusuntgratie]

For this ask game: U

okay first 5 trillion gold stars for linking the ask like how many times do i forget asks and then scroll for 52 minutes trying to find the post 🤣 AMAZING THANK YOU

U: Share three of your favourite fic writers and why you like them so much.

OOOOOOOOOOH such a good question it's so hard to pick three OH JEEZ but here i'll try

@jbbarnes is an incredible writer. they can write the most poetic, soft, sweet, domestic fluff to angst that will rip your heart out, to wonderful character explorations and just GAH they're so good. they've written in a bunch of fandoms and i'm not being dramatic when I say I love everything they write. Radio Nowhere is just one of my favorite fics ever, period. I fell in love with their writing because of gospel, for the fallen ones. i got to read spit the blood back way before y'all did and i have loved it since it was just an idea 😍. this is me trying is really tough but so, so good. and obviously i'm in love with bite 'verse. ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poe/pseuds/Poe

@pray-for-sound is really fucking skilled at writing smut that sets me on fire BUT her big bang fic kidnapped my heart and held it hostage while i read and i just... its one of those fics that will stay with me forever, y'know? but also her plumber!derek and camboy!stiles and all that fuckin' incendiary kinktober hobrien just live rent free in my brain. ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pray_for_sound/pseuds/pray_for_sound @sheetghsts is just bananas talented if you're not reading their stuff GET ON IT. they're really good at whump and exploring trauma and complex emotion and just... oof. go read their stuff. we've become trees and their nogitsune series and let slip the dogs of war are some of my faves. ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheetghosts/pseuds/sheetghosts

fanfic asks | ask me

#fanfic asks #ask grace #jbbarnes #pray-for-sound #sheetghsts #gracesficrecs

[seven-oomen]

Breaking the cycle | How Teen Wolf portrays its traumatized fathers

First of, I would like to say that the following words are my take on this. I am a 29 year old trans man of Caucasian descend who is an domestic violence and abuse survivor. I am diagnosed with ADHD since 12 and diagnosed with CPTSD since this year. I understand trauma and I understand what it does to people. But I am not a professional. I am a fan.

Secondly, the characters I’ll be talking about today are specifically the fathers of some of the main characters in Teen Wolf. Namely Chris Argent, Peter Hale, and Noah Stilinski. 

I realize there are many more traumatized parents who would fit well in this essay and while I thought about including them, I decided that for now, these are the three characters I’m focusing on.

I would love to hear your thoughts about some of the other parents and how their traumatizing pasts might have contributed to the way they raised their children.

Sources are listed under the read more. The gifs I’m using are from Google.

I will be focusing on these characters, discuss what sort of trauma they have, how it affects them and how it affects the way they then raised their children. And why their stories are important for trauma and abuse survivors.

Let’s start with Noah Stilinski.

From Episode 3, Season 6 Sundowning we know the following about Noah’s homelife:

Elias was known for being both emotionally and physically abusive, and on at least one occasion, Noah stepped in to protect his mother from his abuse, causing his father to inadvertently throw him into a glass coffee table; his shoulder was scarred, and tiny fragments of glass remain under the now-healed wound even in the present day.

He even tells Scott: (While talking about a memory of him and Claudia in College.) “The kind of father I wish I had. The kind I... I hope to be."

In the same episode Noah also refers to the incident above as “That time.” Indicating that it wasn’t the first time this happened and it wasn’t the last either.

Piecing all the information together we can conclude that Noah was emotionally, psychologically, and physically abused by his father. We can also conclude that this abuse extended to his mother. Meaning he was also a victim of domestic violence.

There is also evidence in the episode that Elias might have abused Stiles, or at the very least has a very negative opinion of his grandson.  “ That's right! Act like I'm not even here! Go crawling back to your dead wife and loser son!”

This scarred Noah, both physically and mentally. We see evidence of this in episodes where he reacts violently and explosively any time his son is hurt. He immediately blows up and threatens physical violence against the people who hurt his son. 

A part of that is parental protection, but imagine that someone beat the living crap out of you and those you love every day of your life. Once you’re free of that person it leaves a mark and a smoldering fear of seeing the people around you getting hurt. When it happens you get angry, at the people who hurt your loved one, and at yourself. You weren’t there to protect them, you were too late.

Noah blames himself whenever Stiles gets hurt. I believe, based on his childhood home life that Noah corresponds his son getting hurt with failure as a parent. And knowing where he comes from, that’s an extra sore subject for him.

We have basis of it in canon.

We can also see that Noah’s guilt tends to eat at him if he ever has to discipline Stiles or yell at him. As shown in the following scene.

I believe that the abuse Noah endured makes him a very scared individual especially when it comes to raising his son. He’s constantly afraid he’s turning into his father, his afraid of making the same mistakes. He’s afraid he’ll scar and traumatize his own as he was traumatized himself.

The fact that Noah is aware of what he’s doing, that he stops when asked is enough of an indication to tell us, the audience, that he isn’t his father. Once Stiles indicates he’s okay, or simply tells his father to stop, Noah stops immediately. He usually hugs his son or initiates a kind physical contact right after. 

He stops, he reflects, realizes his mistake, and tries to do better.

This is one way to break the cycle. Noah’s not perfect at it, we can see him struggle many times. He insults Stiles or his intelligence without meaning to, passing it off as a joke, he’s constantly working and is not around as much as he should be. And those are valid criticisms of this character.

But deep at his core Noah’s trying to break a cycle of physical and emotional abuse, he’s trying to be there for Stiles. Tells him to go to school, tries to keep an eye on Stiles and tries to talk to him whenever he has the chance to explore Stiles’s wellbeing and feelings.

This is a man who went through hell as a child, became a father, and decided to do better.

Noah is a character who effectively broke a viscous cycle and has a wonderful and strong relationship with his son as a result. It’s not without flaws and Noah’s not perfect. But he’s generally not abusive or an abuser. And that is a step in the right direction.

It also shows us, the audience, that no matter what home life you come from, you can arise above your own traumas and do better for the next generation.

-

Now Chris Argent is an interesting one. I already talked about Chris and trauma in my daddy’s little soldier meta.

Considering the type of person Gerard is, and how he treats several teenagers in the show. I believe Chris is also a victim of emotional, psychological, and physical abuse. We don’t know much about his home life with his mother, so that I can not speculate on.

What we do know is, Gerard has no qualms about hurting children and teenagers. He’s admitted that he would kill his own son if it meant he survived. He’s raised his own son to be a weapon and to compartmentalize his emotions. I shudder to think as to what methods Gerard must have used on Chris. But as we never see them, I can only speculate.

So how did Chris break his cycle of abuse?

By not raising Allison to be a hunter. For the first seventeen years of her life, Allison didn’t know the Supernatural existed. She was kept out of her father’s life until it was no longer possible. She was never raised as a soldier, she wasn’t raised to hide her feelings. If anything, her father encouraged her and nurtured her to the best of his abilities. Chris tried to be there for his daughter. 

He even moved her to France to get her away from their lives. He quit something he was raised to do and did it successfully, just to protect his daughter. He grew up to be everything his father wasn’t.

And while Chris, too, is not perfect at it, he does try and breaks the cycle.

He’s aware of their problems, addresses them, and tries to do better. He even extends this nurturing and protective side to Isaac later down the line. 

Chris, a victim of abuse, sees the signs of abuse in Isaac, and decides; this one, this one I will nurture and protect too. Which he eventually accomplishes by bringing him to France and away from the craziness that is Beacon Hills. (Would have been nice to get a good plot about Chris adopting Isaac, but well, that’s another rant.)

Chris, like Noah, shows that even if you were raised in the worst circumstances, by being aware of your trauma and how that affects others, you can break the cycle and come out on top.

-

And last but not least we have someone who went through an horrific event and possibly emotional abuse from his family, discovered he was a father, and then had to adjust.

I’m talking about Peter Hale.

Now Peter is not a morally good character in general. He has no qualms about killing people who get in his way. From what we know about his childhood Peter also had anger issues as a small child and often broke his toys. 

However, the reason why I’m stating that Peter was most likely emotionally abused (I think by his sister Talia) is because we know that Talia, would not believe Peter about the fire and the Argents and waved his concerns away without considering them. She manipulated multiple of his memories and frequently hid the truth from him. And we know that their relationship from before the fire was strained.

We also know that Peter does care about his family. He cared for Cora in the hospital and he does care about whether Derek lives or dies and tends to keep an eye out for his nephew. In later seasons we also see Peter caring about his only daughter Malia and even express fear for her wellbeing when they go up against the Anuk-Ite. 

His love for Malia is eventually what frees him from the Ghost Riders control and his wish for her to live is what motivates his decisions in Season 6 to try and keep her safe, and when he can’t keep her away from the fight, he joins her and tries to protect her.

Now I believe that the Peter we see in S1,2, 3 and S6B are the real Peter Hale. A traumatized man who believes his only way to stay alive is through manipulation and careful planning. But he does genuinely seem to care about a few people, Cora, Derek, and Malia.

In Season 1 Peter is still coming out of his traumatic event (being burned alive and then being in a coma) and he has to navigate a new world. He kills Laura (or so it is speculated) for her Alpha power and to heal himself. Because to Peter, he is the only one who can avenge his family and resolve the traumatic event he went through.

Revenge, of course, is generally not a good way to resolve trauma and the plan doesn’t work. His trauma is not resolved by killing Kate and he dies that night.

When Peter comes back practically powerless he has to navigate carefully and he does so through manipulating the people around him. To Peter, manipulation is the only way to stay alive and get ahead. This idea of his, had to come from somewhere.

This is where my theory of emotional abuse kicks in. Because if Peter was emotionally abused by his sister (for which there is evidence in canon), he most likely picked up his tactic of manipulation as a survival tactic.

Now out of the list. Peter is the only person who doesn’t fully rise above his past. The past still haunts him as he becomes a protector of Beacon Hills in S6B. But I firmly think that if we got to see more of Peter past this point, we would have seen a man starting his journey to recognizing his toxic traits and trying to do better by them. But that of course, is just speculation.

Peter’s story teaches us that the road to healing and becoming a better person isn’t always linear. It’s not a given that you’ll heal if you aren’t ready to accept it. Or if you’re so focused on getting revenge that healing is impossible, it’s also not going to work. And usually, trying to heal requires a positive presence in your life (Malia), a support system (Malia and the pack), and a willingness to recognize what you’re doing wrong and to better yourself moving forward.

Sources:

Breaking the Cycle of Child Abuse - Article written by a psychologist and peer reviewed by a psychiatrist

The cycles of violence - Article written for the WHO by the University of Birmingham

The Teen Wolf Wiki - for all information and episodes of these characters

Teen Wolf - MTV tv show that owns the characters.

#chris argent #noah stilinski #peter hale #teen wolf meta #teen wolf #meta #long post #trauma #healing #breaking the cycle

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, nephilimeq!

For @nephilimeq :)

When Stiles can’t decide what to get for Derek’s Secret Santa present, he decides to give Derek himself. It doesn’t go quite like he thought it would.

Or, the one where Stiles expected sex, but got to help Derek with his computer virus instead (but still somehow ended up with a boyfriend for Christmas).

*****

A Gift to Unwrap

“I’m so glad we’re doing Secret Santa this year, I can’t afford to buy you all shit again,” Stiles said, lounging on Derek’s couch with his head off the side and his feet in the hair.

Lydia smacked his ankle when it got too close to her. “It’s not like you gave us all great gifts last year. You gave me pens.”

“What was wrong with pens? You like pens.”

“They were from the dollar store, Stiles.”

“Whatever,” Stiles flipped over, sitting properly. “I hope I get Derek, he appreciates my gifts.”

“Derek?” Allison looked over at him from her armchair, “he’s the worst to buy for, he isn’t happy with anything.”

“Hey, Derek loved the birthday present I got him!”

Allison and Lydia shared a confused look. It was just the three of them here, planning out secret santa as everyone else on the pack went for midnight wolf patrol. Stiles didn’t mind, he liked when team humans got to hang.

“Derek doesn’t celebrate his birthday…” Lydia finally said, turning back to him.

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles shrugged, “I just got him a photo album and filled it with all the family pictures of the Hales I could find. I dropped it off in the morning, we had some coffee, and I left. Derek didn’t have to celebrate, and I only had to spend like 5 bucks.”

They were both frowning now though. “How long did that take you?” Allison asked.

“Uh…” Stiles scratched his head, “a month or so?”

“A month or so?” Allison shook her head. “This year you gave me gum for my birthday!”

“Hey, you like gum!’

Lydia smirked, “don’t take it personally, Ally, Stiles only buys good presents for people he loves.”

“Woah- what? Who said - I don’t love anyone!”

Lydia laughed, “Stiles, you once bought me a TV! This year I got more dollar store pens. But Derek gets a whole photo album that you spent a month on? You’ve moved on from me and right on to him,” she grinned, “did you add little notes in it too?”

Stiles blushed, “no!… not that many! Shut up!”

“Relax, Derek likes you too,” she said. All nonchalant, like this wasn’t brand new information.

“What- what do you mean? Not that it - I don’t love him, or anything, but like what do you mean by that.”

“Okay,” Allison said, leaning back, “I can see it now.”

“Um, no? There’s nothing to see?”

“I guess we’ll find out next week,” Lydia said with a wink, “when you both get each other for Secret Santa.”

“You can’t just… cheat like that. Can you? Oh my God, what do you think he’ll get me?” They both laughed. Stiles was starting to see their point. “… not that it matters, what he gets me.”

“He’ll get you something sweet, I’m sure,” Lydia said. “You’ve kind of already outdone yourself with the photo album, but I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Aw, this is so sweet!” Allison said, smiling at Stiles blush. “Aw at New Years you two can kiss!”

Stiles didn’t even try to deny he liked that idea. And now that he was thinking about it, it was definitely not the first time he liked the idea of Derek kissing him.

Shit.

“Guys, I might like Derek…”

They looked at each other and laughed.

–

That weekend, when they pulled their Secret Santa names out of the hat, Stiles wasn’t surprised he pulled Derek’s name out. Lydia was a witch, she could do anything.

He watched carefully as Derek read his. He made no reaction, but Stiles noticed him glance towards him a minute later. Did you get Stiles’ name too? Was Lydia really doing this?

Was it normal to be this excited for Secret Santa?

Stiles wasn’t sure - but he didn’t care. He couldn’t wait for Christmas.

–

He realized as soon as he stepped into the mall, Lydia was right. He should have fucking waited to do the photo album for Christmas.

No one cared about their 26th birthday. It was a stupid age. Why did he go so big? Stiles had turned 22 this year, and Derek had just taken him out for dinner. He should have done that.

What the hell was he going to do now?

He had $20 he could spend and that was it. He walked past the dollar store but shook his head. Looked into H&M and scoffed. Derek would hate everything in this mall. Stiles wasn’t sure where he bought his ridiculously soft shirts, but it wasn’t here.

And they were probably more than $20s.

Cursing, Stiles back tracked. What could he do? He did the sentimental thing already, but maybe he could.. Add to that? Get… What, video recordings of his family?

No, that would just be creepy. He wasn’t fucking stalking the dead.

He could… draw him a picture? He was shit at art. He could… take him on a trip? At some point.. When neither of them were working.. And it was super cheap?

God he was doomed.

Stiles walked past La Senza and paused. The mannequin was dressed in a skimpy bra, but that wasn’t what he was looking at. It was also covered in bows, like the mannequin itself was the present.

Could… Stiles… be the present?

No, that was ridiculous.

Unless…?

No. Derek deserved a real present.

But maybe..?

Stiles bit his lip in thought. It would be better than dollar store pens at least.

He turned and made his way to the craft store. Time to spend his $20 on high end ribbon.

–

Stiles had on his tightest skinny jeans, the ones that Jackson said made his ass pop. He wore the shirt Lydia had given him, the one he thought had been a size too small but she insisted fit him better than anything else he owned.

Now, for the important layer. He pulled out the red ribbon.

He tied a loop around his chest, making a bow on his front. He tied another around his leg and made a bow on his thigh. He looped a ribbon down his left arm, starting from his shoulder and ending with a bow on his wrist.

He looked at himself in the mirror, a bit worried he had over done it.

“Well, my dad didn’t believe I was gay before, he should see me now.”

Although he and his dad had already had that talk. More than once, actually, after he caught Danny in his room in senior year. That had been awkward.

But they were good now. And Derek wouldn’t be such a surprise to him, he didn’t think…

You know, if Derek… actually liked him back. And wanted to date him. And be introduced to Stiles father as his boyfriend-

He was getting ahead of himself.

He took a deep breath. “Even if he doesn’t like me, the present is he has me for a full day. He can make me clean his windows if he wants.”

WIth that, Stiles pulled on his dad’s trench coat.

It was show time.

–

Stiles usually barged into Derek’s loft like he owned the place, but it felt weird to do that now, so he knocked.

It took a minute before Derek opened the door. He already looked confused, and his eyebrow rose up at the sight of him.

“Stiles.”

“Evening, Derek.”

“Why did you knock…. Why are you dressed like you’re going to flash me?”

Stiles felt his cheeks warm, “it’s, uh, for Secret Santa!”

“You’re going to flash me for Secret Santa?”

“No! I am,” he gestured at himself, “fully clothed underhere, I will have you know. But it is part of the present.”

Derek raised a brow, “the gift exchange is tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but… mine starts today.”

Derek shrugged, then stepped back to wave Stiles inside.

Palms sweating, Stiles stepped in and only hesitated a moment before he opened his coat. “Ta da!” He said, dropping the coat dramatically to the floor, “I am your present!”

Derek looked him up and down, eyes lingering on the bows, “okay.”

Stiles swallowed. He shouldn’t have worn his tightest clothes, could Derek see his sweat through his shirt already?

Fuck, could he smell it?

“And, uh, you can do whatever you want with me. For the next 24 hours.” Derek nodded, his eyes still on the bow on Stiles chest. Shit, maybe this was stupid. “Sorry, I thought… I’m kind of broke, and I - this was dumb-”

“No, it’s good,” Derek stepped toward him. Stiles’ heart started to race, he clenched his fists so they wouldn’t shake. This was the plan, right? This was the fucking point of the gift - make a big decleration and give himself to Derek, for a whole day, to do whatever.

But fuck, what if Derek was into weird shit? Stiles wasn’t a virgin, but he’d only been with two people before, and did that guy from college really count if all they did was handjobs? Stiles didn’t even remember his name. And fuck, what if this made Derek think all he wanted was sex? What if he was ruining a potentially amazing relationship because of one stupid -

All Derek did was reach behind him and close the door.

Of course.

Stiles cleared his throat.

“So, uh…”

“Come with me.”

Stiles obeyed, following Derek to the couch. Was Derek going to throw him on it? Ravish him?

He passed Stiles a laptop.

“You’re good at this stuff, right? I think I have a virus or something.”

“… what?”

“I have you for 24 hours, tonight you can help me with my laptop.”

“Oh, oh, okay, sure.” Stiles sat down, glancing down at the screen. He felt stupid for being relieved.

“After you figure out the virus thing, you can also help me get a netflix. And figure out how to get it on the TV? Lydia is refusing to set up pack movie nights anymore if we’re all going to complain about watching The Notebook everytime.”

“Alright,” Stiles leaned back on the couch, diving right in. By the state of Derek’s desktop, he had a feeling this might actually take him 24 hours.

–

Stiles slept over at Derek’s house that night, though it went very differently than he had imagined. He borrowed Derek’s sweats and a baggy T. He slept on the couch. He worked on his laptop until 2 am, and woke up to Derek making breakfast. Stiles joined him in the kitchen, making coffee beside him as he cracked eggs into a pan.

It was nice. Domestic.

Derek smiled at him as he passed over a mug of coffee, and Stiles smiled back.

This was way better than his original plan.

“So, your computer’s up and running, and can connect to the TV. What else do you need help with?”

“Cleaning.”

“… cleaning what?”

“The loft. The pack is coming over tonight for the Secret Santa exchange. Clean up, and when you’re done, help me make the Christmas cookies.”

Stiles shrugged, “okay.”

–

Cleaning wasn’t hard. Derek kept his place pretty impeccable anyway, so all Stiles had to do was some dusting and sweeping. Then he joined Derek in the kitchen, where he had already started baking.

The rest of the day went by so fast, Stiles ran out of time to go home. He changed back into the clothes he was wearing last night, minus the bows, and came back to find the pack already arriving.

He smiled at Derek as they passed out the food together. He imagined what it would be like if he really did live here, really did help Derek with every pack night. He thought they would make a good pair.

And when their shoulders brushed when they sat down together, Stiles didn’t feel nervous. In fact, he leaned into the touch a bit. And he didn’t miss the soft smile Derek sent his way when he did.

Yeah… he thought they would be great together.

The night went by in a blur, Stiles too focused on Derek’s warmth beside him to really pay attention to any of the presents everyone was opening.

He didn’t even notice people had started leaving until it was only him, Lydia and Allison left.

And Lydia and Allison were getting ready to go.

“Oh. I guess I should get ready to go too.”

“Aw, but you two look so cozy,” Allison said with a smirk.

Stiles flushed. Derek, thankfully, either didn’t notice her comment or ignored it. “I haven’t given you your gift yet,” he said. “You can’t leave.”

“Have fun getting your gift, Stiles,” Lydia said, winking, before she shut the door.

Stiles felt his face grow even hotter, but Derek still didn’t comment on it as he got up to get his present. Bless this man. Bless him and his new social tact.

Derek came back out with a present so big, Stiles felt a pang of regret for going with his stupid idea. He could have at least given him… socks, or something.

“Derek, you didn’t have to-”

“I did. After the photo album, I did.” He cleared his throat, “it’s not that big of a deal, I just didn’t know how to wrap it.”

Stiles didn’t believe him. The way Derek was carefully holding it, he didn’t think Derek fully believed it either.

When he ripped open the wrapping paper, he gasped, “Derek…”

It was a painting. A painting of him in his grad cap and gown, from his university graduation last summer. Beside him was his dad, in his suit, just like in their pictures, and on the other side…

“I tried to make her look a bit older, without changing her too much… your dad gave me a picture.”

“She’s beautiful,” Stiles whispered. His mother looked just like he remembered, he even knew the dress, but… there were wrinkles that he never got to see her have. A few gray hairs she never got to grow. His eyes started to burn, so he put the picture down on the table, taking a deep breath. “Derek, you really didn’t have to…”

“You didn’t have to give me the photo album.”

Stiles licked his lips. Derek leaned forward.

“I knew what you were doing. With your gift, I mean, I knew what you were trying to do.”

“You don’t - I shouldn’t have, I don’t want to force anything. It was stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid, it was cute. I was just surprised. And you smelled really nervous, sweaty,” Stiles cursed himself, he knew Derek had smelled the sweat. “I didn’t want our first anything together to be with you under pressure. I want us to both want it.”

Stiles looked at Derek, how beautiful and sincere he was. He thought maybe he was already in love with this man.

“Do I smell nervous now?”

“No.”

They leaned forward at the same time, the kiss was soft. Perfect. Derek’s beard was smooth under his fingers.

When they pulled back, Derek grinned. “Can I unwrap my present now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The End <3  

#nephilimeq #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

[weekendwritingmarathon]

This weekly roundup includes fics written (at least in part) during the 1k1h sprints and/or the Weekend Writing Marathon events.

Fics are ordered first by fandom, then by word count from smallest to largest.

*

Promises from Fathers by Yuliares

DOTA: Dragon’s Blood || gen || Teen & up || Major Character Death || 812 words || Complete

Summary: Invoker and Filomena leave the temple, and return home. There's a little more time for them, together.

Other tags: Angst, grief, sick child, father-daughter, spoilers

*

A Taste of Salt by Yuliares

The Irregulars || gen || General || No major warnings apply || 650 words || Complete

Summary: The crew settles into 221B, and Watson gets a tattoo.

Other tags: Found family, domestic fluff, tattoos, 221BBaker Street

*

Strangers Who’ve Known Love by Yuliares

The Irregulars || M/F || Teen & up || No major warnings apply || 2,308 words || Complete

Summary: In the face of loss, Leo tries to build something new.

Other tags: Making the best of an arranged marriage

*

A Heart On Its Own Feet by treefrogie84

The Old Guard || Joe/Nicky || Teen & up || No major warnings apply || 6,165 words || Complete

Summary: Yusuf is twenty-seven when he learns the last principle of growing up: you can't go home again. He's thirty-three when he meets the love of his life. He's... a lot older than that when he comes home again.

Other tags: You Can't Go Home Again, 5+1 Things, Comfort No Hurt, post 9/11 racism, minimal historical research done, FTH Auction 2021, food as memories, language as memories

*

The Emptiness of Burning Cities by treefrogie84

The Old Guard || Joe/Nicky || Mature || Graphic Descriptions of Violence || 6,811 words || Complete

Summary: They’ve been running missions non-stop for over two months, and Andy just keeps pushing for more: more jobs, faster. They’re all exhausted and Joe just wants a break. One more job and then he’s putting his foot down, grabbing Nicky, and running for the hills. He just wasn’t expecting it to go so very bad.

Other tags: Background Relationships, Canon Typical Major Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Exhaustion, Unprocessed Trauma, Mercenary Work, prison labor, bad things happening to kids, Political Prisoners, Depression, Pre-Canon, the cost of violence paid by the soul, stressed team

*

Not Your Guardian Angel (chapter 27) by @tryslora​

Original Fiction (Welcome to PHU) || M/F/F (Shane/Pels/Jess) || Teen & up || Author chooses not to give major warnings || 3,245 / 102,546 words || WIP

Summary: Seth’s voice is low, almost gentle. “If you’re hungry, you should eat.”

Other tags: Magic, College, Guardian Angel, Ghosts, Soulmarks

*

Not Your Guardian Angel (chapter 28) by @tryslora​

As Above || 2,577 / 105,123 words || WIP

Summary: Pels pushes her hands harder into her pockets. “Let’s do this,” she mutters.

*

Letters Addressed to the Fire by treefrogie84

Supernatural, Wayward Sisters || gen || Teen & up || No major warnings apply || 978 words || Complete

Summary: The match flares, sulfur bright, as she drops it into the bowl. The ingredients spark and fizzle as they light, wormwood and saffron going up in smoke and reflecting into the glass sphere suspended above it. Patience takes a deep breath and holds it while she glances over the notepad balanced on her knee. Breathing out steadily, she carefully reads off the summoning and settles back to wait.

Other tags: spell casting, failed summoning

*

A Snowstorm of Dreams by treefrogie84

Supernatural, Wayward Sisters || Kaia/Claire || General || No major warnings apply || 1,202 words || Complete

Summary: The burned out ruins aren't a hunt, just a landmark for them to stop at for the night on their way north. Nothing special at all.

Other tags: Road Trips, getting engaged, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Days Off

*

Reach the Morning Light by treefrogie84

Supernatural, Wayward Sisters || Kaia/Claire || General || No major warnings apply || 1,585 words || Complete

Summary: Good news! She's out of court-ordered rehab and at least a state away! Bad news! She's in the hospital, there's another hunter on her ass, and her nightmares have broken through and are chasing her down. (Aka: Wayward Sisters from Kaia's pov)

Other tags: Pre-Relationship, Episode: s13e10 Wayward Sisters, POV Kaia Nieves, Lesbian Claire Novak, demisexual kaia

*

Sicarius by DomesticatedFeral

Teen Wolf || Stackson || Teen & up || Author chooses not to give major warnings || 16,894 words || Complete

Summary: “No, I began training to become an assassin. I didn’t feel like I had the time to get involved in a relationship, nor did I want anyone getting involved in all-” he gestured to himself- “this.” Jackson raised an eyebrow at his statement. “The assassin thing.”

Other tags: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Assassination Attempt(s), BAMF Stiles, Lawyer Jackson Whittemore, Assassin Stiles Stilinski, POV Multiple, Brawling and Fighting, Internal Conflict, Beacon Hills does exist in this AU, Past Ethan/Jackson Whittemore - mentioned only, Psychological Torture, Angst, Original Character Death(s), Car Accidents, Jackson Whittemore is Bad at Feelings, Mutual Pining, Past Lydia Martin/Stiles Stilinski - mentioned, Gunshot Wounds, Mild Gore, Blood and Injury, Love Confessions

*

Have you posted a fic recently?  Any active WWM participant can Submit your fic here by midnight EST Wednesday and it will be included on next Friday’s WWM Fic Roundup post.

#wwm fic roundup #DOTA #dota: dragon's blood #the irregulars #the old guard #original fiction #welcome to phu #supernatural #wayward sisters #teen wolf #fanfic

[voidstilesplease]

you’re the rain, and you come pouring

Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Tags: Mature, Alternate Universe-Human, Established Relationship, Amnesia, Sexual Content, Angst

Word Count: 1,340

"If I forget you," Stiles begins, "You'll remind me of us, right?"

~.~

Then the rain comes, pouring out on an early September morning.

The cold seeps in, and the bed never warms; one side empty, and the other lonely

--- you never quite realized which side you're on.

On mornings like this, Stiles wants to laze in bed, wrapped in the warm cocoon of the covers, surrounded even more by the safety of Derek's arms.

 He feels the soft press of Derek's lips and the hot breath that seeps deeper on his skin, through to his bones, into the core of his being. Then come gentle caresses from strong, calloused hands and supple fingers running across his body in a race to reach every surface - all the secret places. Finally, they're touching from forehead to toe, kicking aside the sheets that separate them. 

 Derek rubs his stubble in Stiles's face, locking their mouths in a chaste kiss, "Good morning," he says to Stiles's neck, followed by a short nipping. 

 Stiles's eyelids flutter close, arching his back and neck to offer more. A soft moan escapes his mouth when the innocent nip becomes a pronounced bite. "Good morning to you, too."

 Derek lifts his head and lays his weight on Stiles, heavy -alive, real- but never crushing. His forearms are cradling Stiles's head, palms holding back the fall of his hair. Derek smiles, showing the barest of teeth, "It's raining,"

 "Hm," His arms come up to curl around the thick muscles of Derek's shoulders. He practically purrs, "I hadn't noticed,"

 Stiles truthfully hadn't. But when he spares the rest of the world a little of his attention, he hears the puttering of rain, drops falling in small splashes on the pavement outside.

 Derek dips his head to kiss the side of his mouth, "Let's stay in today,"

 Stiles's legs fall open in reply.

 Their movements are languid because there's no reason to hurry. They strip off their nightclothes until there's only bare skin in between them. Derek catalogs Stiles's sea of stars with his teeth and tongue and wanders his fingertips down to the more hidden depths -where only Derek knows. Stiles mewls and holds onto the smooth tresses of Derek's head. He loves it when Derek does this -when Derek prays to his body like a religion.

 One slick finger, two fingers, and then three, and Stiles gets crazy, crazier, desperate. By the time Derek presses in, naked, thick, and pulsing, Stiles only opens his mouth to a soft cry. They watch each other's eyes as Derek fills him, surrounds him, worships him. Derek doesn't hurry; he drags his length out and plunges back in, measured in a delicate pace. It's a slow dance, and Stiles allows himself to get taken. Again and again, back and forth, they can never end. He's never been graceful, but with Derek, he's in perfect synchrony.

 Eventually, Derek has to pick up the pace, and his thrusts get faster, firmer, and erratic. He reaches in between their bodies to hold Stiles in a steady grip. It doesn't take long for Stiles's body to break from all the stimulation, and he groans his release into Derek's mouth, clamping his teeth down the full lower lip as he tightens his body's hold where he and Derek are one. 

 Derek follows not a moment later, squeezing his eyes shut, drawing out a moan that sounds like Stiles's name.

 Later, Stiles lounges on the counter, half-dressed, holding up a book as Derek putters around their kitchen, preparing breakfast. It's wondrously domestic. The novelty hasn't worn off despite it being three years now.

 Stiles looks up from his page, gazing intently at Derek. As if he feels it, Derek turns from the stove and arches his brows in question.

 "If I forget you," Stiles begins, "You'll remind me of us, right?"

 Derek looks surprised at the question. His eyes move to the book cover, "Why are you even reading The Notebook?"

 Stiles shrugs, "Lydia recommends it," he replies. "So, you will, right?"

 Derek doesn't say anything for a moment, then he turns off the induction and walks over to Stiles. His hands find Stiles's thighs in an anchor. "Of course," he finally answers, looking straight into Stiles's eyes. "But why would you forget me?"

 "Just if," he puts down the book to close his arms around Derek's neck.

 "Well, you'll do the same to me, right?"

 Stiles snorts, "As if I'll let you go. I'll worm my way into your heart even when your head doesn't want me. Just like the first time."

 A kiss to the forehead, "Yeah?"

 A small nod and smile. "Yeah." 

 ~•~

 You get up for coffee and pauses ---

(A pair of cups and sweet kisses

Two chairs and a candlelit dinner

A couch for two and classic movies

A whole rack of empty spaces

save for one pair of shoes).

 But Stiles breaks that. He tried, never assume he didn't, to bring Derek back, to insert himself back into his life, like he once had. But it's just over.

 Stiles wakes to a half-empty room, in a bed that drowns him in its cosmos of space. The quiet should be tolerable by now. It's been almost a year, after all. It's been that long, but it still hurts like he only just lost Derek's love. 

 Ten months ago, by some cruel twist of fate, Derek got into an accident. They flew to New York together, Stiles taking a leave from the station to go with Derek in their company's second branch opening. He and Laura had worked hard to revive their name by themselves after a fire consumed most of their family. This expansion meant a lot to Derek and his sister, and Stiles couldn't miss it. He had to let Derek know how proud he was of him.

 In the end, he never got to tell him.

 Derek's car got trampled in a four-vehicle accident that caused five fatalities. Derek was lucky to be alive at all. But he woke up with no recollection of the past five years of his life. He woke up in a world where his house and family had just gotten reduced to ashes. Derek brought with him his past trauma back to life.

 He woke up not wanting anything to do with Stiles. He was still grieving for the family he thought he just lost. His heart was stone-hard, stoic, full of anger, just the way he used to be.

 "Look," Derek snapped at him once. "I know Laura said we were together. Everyone tells me we were. We might've been, okay? And I apologize,"

 A boulder settles in his stomach.

 "But I'm incapable of loving anyone, right now."

 His breath escapes him.

 "If my memories come back, then good for you, I guess. But if it doesn't," Derek pauses, genuine sympathy in his eyes; genuine but removed -indifferent. "If it doesn't, then maybe that's how it's supposed to be."

 Stiles went home to Beacon Hills alone.

 Honestly, Stiles prefers this way if the other option is to lose Derek completely. He's doing okay; Laura updates him frequently. She still wishes Stiles to come back for Derek.

 "He needs you," Laura implores over the phone.

 "He doesn't want me,"

 "So make him," her voice is firm.

 "Laura," Stiles's voice breaks. "I tried." But this isn't some romance novel. 

 Stiles drags his feet to the kitchen. It's raining again, hard and loud and unbearable. The apartment feels cold, and Stiles shivers on the exterior and within. He leans on the counter, making half-hearted movements, preparing coffee for himself. He has too much coffee nowadays. 

 His eyes land on the book sitting silently atop the counter. Stiles never removed it. He let it stay where he put it last. Lydia doesn't ask for it back.

 "If I forget you, you'll remind me of us, right?"

 "Of course. Well, you'll do the same to me, right?"

 "As if I'll let you go."

 But Stiles does. He lets Derek go.

 ~•~

 You close the cupboard.

 You don't need coffee;

You need it 

to stop raining

everyday.

~.~

#sterek #sterek fic #sterek ficlet #sterek au #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf #fics tag #stiles x derek

[thehollowprince]

1/2 “if we recognize that these incidents of violence are part of his arc and that those incidents of jealousy are part of Stiles’s arc, then we have to recognize that Scott is going to have similar incidents” Except that Derek and Stiles never assaulted a victim of domestic just because he liked their ex girlfriends, unlike Scott. Scott hit Isaac because Scott is a whiny, violent, jealous, possessiveness asshole who couldn’t stand the thought of Isaac liking “his” woman. That’s not an accident.

2/2 And lmfao at you claiming Derek roaring at Isaac and throwing a glass at him to save Isaac’s life is abuse and proof Derek’s a violent monsters while giving Scott a free pass for roaring at Malia and forcing her to shift back into her human form without her consent, for violating an incapacitated rape victim and then boasting about it in front of them, for mind raping Corey, and for repeatedly assaulting Isaac over a girl. Bias and double standards indeed

While I do admire you're complete and utter devotion to removing any and all context from even the smallest of scenes, it is my day off and I just woke up, so I don't really have the energy to be sarcastic and explain things I've already explained.

So let's just go through this...

"Except that Derek and Stiles never assaulted a victim of domestic [violence] just because he liked their ex-girlfriend." - Both Derek and Stiles assaulted Scott (a victim of domestic violence) multiple times over the course of the show, either to teach him a lesson (Derek; Heart Monitor), to get petty revenge (Stiles; also Heart Monitor as well as Lunatic), to put Scott "in his place" (Derek; Ice Pick), or because he was lashing out (Stiles; The Last Chimera). Not because of liking ex-girlfriends, unless you count Stiles being petty over Lydia, who barely even knew he existed, but all done do to them being emotional and volatile.

Unless, or course, you don't consider Scott a survivor of domestic violence. Are we just referring to Isaac? Okay, how about when Derek broke Isaac's arm to teach him a lesson (Abomination) or when he threw a glass at him (Unleashed) in a recreation of Isaac's father's abuse? Is it worse because Derek specifically targeted Isaac on account of the abuse, knowing the teenager would want a way out? Or what about when Stiles openly mocked Isaac's trauma, asking him if he was "still milking that"? That was in the episode Anchors. Y'know... the episode you always turn to in an effort to point out how abusive Scott is. Did you not watch the whole episode? Just the scenes with Scott? I mean, I understand why. Just look at him.

Okay, maybe I do have time for sarcasm.

"Scott hit Isaac because Scott is a whiny, violent, jealous, possessiveness (?) asshole who couldn't stand the thought of Isaac liking 'his' woman. That's not an accident." - did you actually watch the episode Anchors? I ask, because you always bring up Scott throwing Isaac, but leave out the fact that Scott lost his anchor and was having a hard time controlling his werewolf nature because of the ritual to awaken the Neeson. Did you miss the claws and Scott seeing his shadow as a monstrous werewolf? I can't see that you did, because you would be the first person to bring up Stiles' sleep paralysis or waking nightmares, though probably not Allison's hallucinations regarding her aunt. Its almost like that ritual they did had consequences for more than just Stiles.

Huh. Go figure.

"... while giving Scott a free pass for roaring at Malia and forcing her to shift back into her human form without her consent" - you're reaching at this point, and its not even really amusing anymore. You're stringing a bunch of words together and using phrases like "without consent" in order to trigger an emotional response while completely ignoring that Malia was being hunted by her own father and had pretty much gone feral in her coyote form. Derek's excessive roar at Isaac was unnecessary and clearly just him flexing his newfound power and status. For a man who lost control of most of his life due to outside factors, it makes sense he'd try to retain control where he could, but it doesn't change the fact that he did that deliberately to terrify Isaac into submission, to keep his power base, where Scott was trying to simply save Malia.

"... for incapacitating a rape victim and then boasting about it in front of them..." - honestly, we've gone over the events of Master Plan so many times that it doesn't even bear repeating.

"... for mind raping Corey..." -y'know what's funny with this one? The fact that you didn't have any problem with it when Peter did it to Scott. Or hell, even when Scott did it to save Stiles from the Nogitsune. I wonder why that is?

"Bias and double-standards indeed" - indeed, watching you repeatedly condemn Scott for the very same things you defend Peter or Derek or Stiles for is most illuminating. Its almost like you have a personal bias against Scott, but I can't qwhite put my finger on why. Hmmm? What makes Scott different than those three, I wonder.

#asshole anon #scott mccall defense squad #teen wolf fandom problems #teen wolf racism

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

elsa/stiles/scott for the ask game 🥰

- A domestic life headcanon: In the future the three of them run on very different schedules so they always make sure to set aside one night (or day, depending on their schedules) a week to just spend time together!

- An angst headcanon: Elsa and Scott have a very difficult time being even friendly for a lot of season 3 — Elsa feels incredibly betrayed by Scott forgiving Allison and refuses to have anything to do with either of them

- A meeting the parents headcanon: Elsa has known Melissa since she was fairly little — she was sick a lot as a little kid and before her mom died, she was taken to the hospital a lot! She first meets Sheriff Stilinski when both she and Isaac are questioned about their dad's death

- A wedding headcanon: They might not have a traditional wedding because of polyamory, but they very likely eventually do some sort of magical ceremony!

Send me a ship involving my OCs and I will give you:

#ask #answered #farklelucas #elsa lahey #about elsa #elsa x scott x stiles #scilsa #ship: before i met you i was drowning; now i am water

[when-they-write-stuff]

SterekWeek2020: Day 2 (Cozy Comfort)

~

When Stiles used to think of the autumn season, he’d think of three things. 

Baking, pumpkins, and colored leaves.

Halloween used to be his favorite time of the year. He remembered the days when his mom would handmake his costume and they would spend the day decorating the house or pressing dry leaves into the pages of old notebooks. She’d bake more and more in the days leading up to Halloween and they’d usually end up having too many leftovers for a small family of three.

Stiles remembered trying to bake alongside her and always getting eggshells into the cookie dough. When his dad would come home, they’d carve pumpkins the day before Halloween, and Stiles had always been grossed out by the pumpkin guts. His mom would save the seeds, claiming she was going to plant them in the upcoming year.

She never did.

Stiles still lived for Halloween. Of course, he did. 

Though, before werewolves, he had enjoyed it a lot more. Because back then, seeing a ghost or a monster on the streets was something that just happened once a year. Stiles didn’t take in each costume and unconsciously compare it to what he’d seen in real life. He didn’t jump when one was uncannily similar to whatever Monster of the Week they’d been chasing earlier, trying to pretend like he wasn’t internally freaking out.

There were still certain parts that reminded him of before, though. Stiles found himself in the preserve more than once looking at the red and orange trees. He dug through his mom’s old cookbook and did his best not to burn down the house, grinning at his dad’s reaction when the man caught the smell of her favorite cookies.

Sometimes, Stiles remembered that he probably wasn’t the only one with old memories that haunted the current season. And that might’ve been why he showed up at Derek’s front door without a warning one day, grinning brightly with one of those tiny pumpkins in each hand.

The man didn’t look impressed.

Because yeah, Stiles was pretty sure he still got underneath Derek’s skin. He wouldn’t call them enemies exactly, not anymore. Enough years had passed that Derek seemed to have accepted his fate and the teenagers that basically lived in his loft. Though, Stiles wasn’t sure if he could call them friends either. 

Maybe. Sometimes, he thought. Like when he crashed on the couch after pack night and Derek would wake him up with a cup of coffee and a strange look on his face as the man pretended Stiles didn’t exist for the rest of the morning. 

Right now, though, Derek looked more than confused at Stiles’s sudden appearance. So he didn’t give the man a chance to kick him out, ducking underneath Derek’s arm and moving into the loft.

“Good afternoon, Sourwolf. How are you doing on this lovely fall day?”

“Stiles,” Derek said, sliding the door shut and turning around. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Geez, dude,” Stiles said, plopping down on the couch. “Can’t a guy with tiny pumpkins show up for an unexpected visit once in a while and not get growled at?”

Derek narrowed his eyes. Stiles snorted.

“Fine, whatever, be like that. It doesn’t matter, because we’re gonna carve pumpkins!”

The man looked at him for a long moment, a little bit of red in his eyes. And Stiles figured if he was going to die in any way, this might be the most embarrassing. But instead of ripping his throat out or even growling a little bit, Derek just turned away and moved into the kitchen.

Stiles stared after the werewolf for a moment before shoving himself up and stumbling after him.

“Dude, Derek, where are you going? Hey! You’re a terrible host!”

Derek had his back toward him when Stiles stumbled into the kitchen. Coming to a complete stop, he blinked at him and then sniffed suspiciously, moving over to the man’s side. 

“Why does it smell like chocolate in here?”

“Go away, Stiles.”

But Stiles ignored him, peering over Derek’s shoulder. There was a giant pot on the stove and Stiles blinked at it before looking at Derek curiously. “That’s hot chocolate.”

“So?”

“Can werewolves actually have chocolate?”

Derek did give him a red-eyed look this time and Stiles raised his hands in surrender, backing a step away. He figured it still wasn’t too late to get his throat ripped out and the last thing he wanted to do was step over one too many lines. But this… this was domestic. He noticed for the first time that Derek was in nothing but sweats and a red thumbhole sweater, a dishrag thrown over his shoulder. And it was so painfully domestic, Stiles felt like he might have walked into an alternate dimension.

He glanced around the kitchen, noting how quiet the loft was too. Usually, when he came over, there was at least one beta around somewhere. But it was completely silent now.

“So, have the rest of the werewolves abandoned ship then?”

“They’re at a movie.”

“And their Sourwolf alpha didn’t want to go along?”

Once more, Stiles got a red-eyed look. He swallowed nervously and willed his heart not to flip at that. He might have failed though, because Derek’s ears turned a little red too and the man turned away, stirring the stovetop hot chocolate a little more aggressively than before.

Stiles turned away, wandering back into the living. Dropping back onto the couch, he picked up one of the pumpkins and turned it over in his hand, chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully.

A few seconds later, Derek came out with two steaming mugs. Stiles blinked in surprise.

“So I’m not getting kicked out then?”

“Shut up,” Derek said, setting down one of the mugs in front of him. The man glared at the miniature pumpkins. “And how are you planning on carving those?”

“It’s possible,” Stiles said, shrugging. To be honest, he wasn’t actually sure if that was true. But giving it a try wouldn’t do any harm, right? “Do you really think I could have lugged two normal-sized pumpkins all the way up here?”

“I don’t know why you’d attempt in the first place.”

Stiles dropped his gaze, chewing on his lip again. And to his silence, Derek raised a brow.

“Stiles?”

“It used to be a Stilinski family tradition,” Stiles said, shrugging. He really hoped he sounded as nonchalant as he was attempting to be. “Pumpkin carving. But my dad’s working the next few nights and there’s no way I’m touching pumpkin guts alone.”

Derek’s lips twitched. “Pumpkin guts?”

“Yes, dude, that’s exactly what they are. And no, I won’t be taking constructive criticism.”

“I don’t think those pumpkins are big enough to contain pumpkin guts,” Derek said, bringing his mug to his lips. Stiles glanced at the one in his hands and sighed.

“Yeah, probably not.”

He’d debated attempting to carry two pumpkins up all three flights of stairs, he really had. Because in the end, Stiles knew himself best, and there was no way he was taking two trips. But he also knew himself well enough to know that carrying both would end up in nothing but catastrophe.

Stiles set the pumpkin back down and picked up the mug Derek had brought him instead. Studying the man over the top of it, he took a careful sip and then grinned.

“Dude, this is actually really good!”

Derek rolled his eyes, but Stiles could have sworn his ears turned a little red again. And once more, Stiles thought it was some kind of miracle that he hadn’t gotten himself kicked out yet. But then again, watching Derek quietly, Stiles wondered if he had been sort of right.

Maybe Derek didn’t want to be alone.

It was the little things, Stiles supposed. Setting his mug back down, he pushed himself up and vanished into the other room for a second before coming back out with two sharpies. To Derek’s raised-eyebrow expression, Stiles grinned again.

“Just because we can’t carve them doesn’t mean we can’t do something. I hope you have one or two artistic skills, Sourwolf, because I have none.”

“You’re an idiot,” Derek said. “You realize that, right?”

“Or an unorthodox genius,” Stiles shot back, grabbing one of the pumpkins and tossing it at the man. Derek caught it with a surprised grunt and then glared. Stiles smirked. “I know I’m not the only one with a Halloween tradition. What did you use to do?”

He half regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but then it was too late. Derek’s face did something strange and the man glanced down at his hands for a long second before answering.

“There were little things,” he said quietly. “Laura and I used to do hot chocolate and scary movies. Back in New York.”

Stiles glanced down at his mug and then looked toward the TV before turning his gaze back to Derek. The man was still avoiding his gaze. “And that’s what you were gonna…”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

If there was any time Stiles was going to get kicked out of the loft, he figured it’d be now. But Derek just shrugged and Stiles couldn’t help the pang that struck through him. Glancing around, he grabbed the nearest blanket and wrapped it around himself, nestling the mug against his chest.

“Well, I guess the pumpkins will have to wait until later, then.”

Derek gave him a sharp, almost warning look. As if he expected Stiles to make fun of him or crack another joke or something. But Stiles just offered up his best smile and nodded toward the remote.

“I’m game for a good scary movie.”

For a moment, he was almost nervous that had been the line he wasn’t supposed to cross. Inviting himself into the loft had been one thing, but if this was too much—

“Stiles—”

“Derek,” Stiles said, taking one more step and cutting the man off. “I’m here.”

Derek looked at him for another long moment. And then there it was again. That small smile that seemed to tug at the corners of his lips, even if it never became the full thing. Derek didn’t do anything but grunt and grab the remote, leaning back, but Stiles figured he’d take it as a win. He’d take anything that didn’t involve getting his throat ripped out as a win.

“Just a warning though, big guy,” Stiles said, huddling deeper underneath his blanket. “I don’t do jump scares.”

Derek rolled his eyes. Stiles grinned. 

And if there was a large lump pressed up against him less than half an hour later, Stiles wouldn’t say anything. No matter how much he really, really wanted to. Especially because there still hadn’t been any jump scares yet. 

(And there were two pumpkins scribbled over in black sharpie by the doorstep when the betas came home.)

#sterek #teen wolf #sterekweek2020 #stiles stilinski #derek hale #derek hale x stiles stilinski #ficlet #cozycomfort #sterek edits #teen wolf moodboard #sterek au

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

Hi! Can I ask for a blurb where the reader is insecure about being in a relationship with someone bc she's afraid of getting hurt due to domestic violence that happened in her family so she tells Peter about it and he comforts her? I definetly get it if you don't feel comfortable about writing or if it's a trigger to you, hope you're having a great day/night 😊

A/N: what a heartbreaking request 🥺😢 but in this house, we always provide happy endings even when talking about harsh subjects. so here it is, dear nonnie 💕 all of you out there, care about yourself and never hesitate to talk about it, please. stay safe sweethearts 💖💗

‘Stay safe, Cheer up’ blurb event

A BIT ANGSTY BELOW (MENTION OF VIOLENCE), SO BEWARE! (FLUFF ENDING)

You’ve been in love with Peter since the beginning of secondary school but never dared to confess. Your shy nature always took over in anything you did, acting almost like a shield, a shield you slowly built around yourself year by year to protect you from a lot of things: stress, love and mostly violence.

But how were you supposed to know Peter would actually confess to you once in high school? You still recalled that day when the nerdy boy came to find you at the school library as he somehow knew you would be the only one there at that time.

And you accepting to go out with him definitely shocked your friends, and your own self. But you and Peter were undeniably the cutest couple that could exist, and anyone would agree on that. Two awfully cute teenagers in love.

But something was wrong and Peter felt it - not with his Peter tingle. Even after going out for now four months, you acted a bit strange towards the boy when he got rather close to you, like when holding hands or even sitting close next to each other. Your body seemed to stiff automatically, your facial features tensing as you then began stuttering about weird and nonsense words. As if maintaining some distance between you two on purpose. Mostly, you haven’t said to Peter the three famous words he magically told you to ask you out. He was always the one saying them, hoping you’d say it back to him too but without pressuring you.

I love you.

But still, you never did.

Despite whatever people say, Peter was really observant - this time thanks to his spidey senses - and he was determined to understand what was going on one for all. You already refused to hang out to his apartment multiple times, so the boy asked you for a date on Saturday, only consisting of sitting in the nearest park next to where he lived, to chill around like normal teenagers.

Arrived that day, you both casually sat on a bench drinking soda Peter brought along for the date. People were coming and going in the park, children running after each other on the grass and dogs playing at fetch. A normal Saturday. As you were talking about the next chemistry project of next week, Peter gulped before gently interrupting you, still not too abruptly.

“Err- (Y/N), can I ask you something?”

“Sure Peter, what is it?”

Peter took a deep breath in, hoping to gather some courage and finally spoke again.

“Alright- don’t take it the wrong way, okay? B-but like, I wanted to know- uh... does going out with me bother you? Like I know I’m kinda awkward- okay, a lot actually, so you may have forced yourself to not turn me down... But it’s like you’re building invisible walls around you when I’m near you, w-well that’s how I see it, so you don’t have to-”

Suddenly Peter’s rumbling stopped as he glanced back at you, since you didn’t say a single word. And that was when he noticed you, head low and hiding between your shoulder as if to disappear, and looking away from him.

“Oh God- I’m s-so sorry, (Y/N)! I didn’t mean to hurt you! A-At all! I-I just wanted to understand-”

Peter rumbled again, frantically moving his hands around because his intention was definitely not to upset you, and now he was scared he definitely fucked up any of his chance for you to open up to him.

“... I’m sorry.”

Your voice was like a shy whisper, barely audible but Peter caught it, and cut himself off, almost shocked but mostly confused. Still, he decided to let you talk.

“You’re not the one at fault here, Peter, but it’s me and only me. I just- I-I’m scared...”

You rearranged a strand of hair behind your ear, something you usually do when you’re stressed, your hand slightly trembling. When you finally dared to turn your head back to Peter, you could perfectly read in his eyes he wanted you to proceed in your explanations. So that was what you did.

At first, you were still torn apart from talking about that matter with Peter or not but then, the look in his soft coffee eyes almost screamed to know more. That was Peter, always here to help someone in need. And this time, Peter wanted to help you desperately, the one he grew to love more every day he spent with, to reassure you, to comfort you. At all cost.

So you opened your heart to Peter and exteriorised the morbid thoughts that settled deep inside your being long time ago. How trusting people and getting close to them became nearly impossible since your dad started beating your mum during harsh arguments. Even when you closed yourself in your bedroom, you could still hear her pleadings and cries mixed with your father’s screams. Closing yourself in your wardrobe didn’t change a thing. Your nights got more agitated, nightmares being more frequent than actual dreams, and you kept praying every night to not get hit in return. For nearly seven years, you endured all this violence towards your poor mother, who couldn’t do anything but only plead you between sobs to not say a word to anyone, at the risk of you being in danger too. Even when your dad left you both, your trust towards men was just inexistent and, as sadly as it sounded, Peter was now paying the price of this.

The boy listened to you until the end, carefully and quietly, his eyes never leaving your face. Each of your words etched into Peter’s mind, a heavy feeling soon growing inside of him as your story kept going on. Anger. Not towards you of course, but towards that person you still called “father” who dared to violate your mother in front of your innocent self for so long. Anger towards that paternal figure who made you fear men’s presence near you. An extreme anger because due to that traumatic experience, you were even scared of Peter, your own boyfriend.

But that anger slowly faded into sadness, because dwelling on your though past brought back some bad memories you tried to forget after all these years. And that was when Peter understood he would be the one left to pick up all the pieces of your hurt self, to gather them one by one and finally be able to put them back together.

“(Y/N), look at me please.”

With glossy eyes, your head slightly raised back to look at Peter again, cheeks also a bit red from keeping your tears in. Gently, Peter extended both his hands to you, palms facing the sky. Intrigued, you looked at him before slightly putting your hands on his to rest.

“No one in this word deserve to go through what you did during all these years, (Y/N), and for sure neither you deserved it at all. But remember that I will never raise a single hand at you, that my hands will only provide you comfort and warmth when you need it. And I promise to cherish and protect you from whoever would hurt you in any way. I want you to fully trust me, and I know it may take some time but I don’t care. We will take baby steps and we will make it, okay? Together. I can’t just let you deal with it by yourself anymore. You’re so dear to me and deserve to be happy. Please (Y/N), let me help you-”

As Peter basically forgot how to breath during what sounded like a second love confession, he got interrupted when you threw yourself into his arms. That actually caught the boy by surprise but he didn’t dare to circle his arms around your body, not really knowing how you would react. But he quickly changed his mind as soon as he felt your small hands tightly grip onto the back of his shirt, so his arms gently surrounded you to bring you closer. He rested his cheek on the crown of your head while yours lightly pressed against his torso, his heartbeats soothing your agitated soul.

This was during the embrace you finally knew what you needed to know after all this time: everything would be fine, as long as Peter was by your side.

“Thank you, Peter. So much.”

“I’m here, (Y/N). And always will I be for you.”

🏷 Permanent tag list & mutuals 💖 (get notified)

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#staysafecheerup #blurb event #blurb #peter parker #peter parker request #peter parker blurb #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker oneshot #peter parker one shot #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #spider-man #spiderman #tom holland #stay safe

[theb1te]

Hostage Hearts and Patchwork Love

Chapter 1: Like a fish out of water

Stiles Stilinski x Peter Hale || Espionage AU || Chapter 1/? : 1754 words || Rated T

Summary: 
Mieczyslaw Gajos is an FBI agent. When he gets on the second big case on the new taskforce he was recruited for, it changes his life. For better or for worse, he doesn't know that either. What he does know, is that not only his life has changed, but so does the life of suspected criminal Peter Hale.

————

I wrote this story for Steter Secret Santa 2020 (@stetersecretsanta​)! It’s a gift for @kcmski​, who requested some spy action. I hope you like it! I had no knowledge about espionage when I started this, so I’ve learned quite a lot too. Happy Holidays!

(title from the song Patchwork Love by As It Is)

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Stiles was strapped to a chair in his new home, leaned all the way back. A wet cloth was draped over his mouth, and he woke up, gasping for air through the water that was splashed over his face. When he could finally open and focus his eyes, he saw above him, his own lover, Peter Hale, his lover’s nephew and his assistant, Derek Hale and Scott McCall. He was being waterboarded by the man he was in love with. The man who was in love with him.

Now you probably wonder how Stiles ended up in this situation. Let’s explain...

It all started when Mieczyslaw Gajos, often called Miesko, got a call from his boss on a Sunday, exactly three years ago. On a Sunday? Sure, Federal agents worked 24/7, but he'd never been called by his boss on a Sunday. When he answered it all got even more suspicious. He couldn't meet him on Monday, or at his boss' place or office. “I’m outside of your apartment building,” and Miesko had to meet him in the man’s vehicle. Strange, but he couldn't do anything other than comply. Once inside the car he found out what this was all for. 

"We've got a new job for you, kid," was the first thing his boss said as soon as he’d closed the car door.

He'd been recruited for a new highly secretive taskforce. It would handle supernatural cases from that moment on, since they had grown more and more frequent over the past few years. Somehow his boss had found out that Miesko already knew about the supernatural world, so he couldn’t do anything else than recruit an experienced and knowledgeable agent for the team. Almost a year of training followed, in between cases. They were few and far between at that point in time, but Miesko loved it. They were the most interesting cases of his life.

Not more than a year after finishing his training, he got assigned to his second big case. It was focussed on a family of werewolves that had been known to live in a small town called Beacon Hills for years. The Bureau had been keeping eyes on them due to some suspicions, and now it was finally time to make a move. They were suspected to be domestic terrorists. Recently they suffered a major attack from the Argent family and associates, a group known to be werewolf hunters. It seemed to have only made them more aggressive, turning teenagers and an increase in ‘animal-attack’ victims ending up in town, and the family of wolves had established contact with a known person of interest. 'Deucalion' had been a familiar name even before the supernatural taskforce had been established. He was an uncatchable, very strong werewolf with several aliases that always seemed to leave a trail of victims behind wherever he went. 

The more desk-ridden side of the taskforce had done their research on the family of wolves and advised for an agent to win Peter Hale's attention. Miesko was one of the only gay man on the taskforce and most qualified for the job, so he was sent out. Of course he needed a new name and identity to start his undercover mission.

And so Stiles Stilinski was born.

A nice, jittery, unsuspecting gay young man, moving to Beacon Hills to get away from the busy city life of Los Angeles. He was outgoing, and actively looking for a new love life to have fun next to working on his own start-up business.

This was, by a giant margin, the most dangerous thing Stiles had ever done. As an investigative specialist, more commonly known as a spy, his job was to always be grey. He was to not stand out, blend in with the crowd without looking like he was trying too hard. People would see him, but forget him a second after. This time was different. He had to stand out and quite literally get up in the face of his target. This was a whole new level of undercover work he'd never done before.

That love life Stiles was looking for, he first found while going out in the local gay bar, Jungle, for a few nights until he ran into his target. Peter Hale. He'd memorized his face before he even moved here. So there he was, dancing over to Peter in the middle of the night with a tempting smile on his face. 

The intelligence that was helping him on this case had told him that Peter wasn’t the person to buy a drink for, but he had to make him buy a drink for Stiles, which made it only harder to do this right. If he missed his shot now, he wouldn’t even be able to start his mission. He took a seat next to Peter at the bar, looking over at him like he’d never seen him before and acting impressed. ‘Stroke his ego. He wants to be the best.’ He remembered all the advice clear as day.

His acting didn’t have to go far when he actually laid eyes on Peter though. The man was hot, not exactly Miesko’s type in terms of looks, but he definitely wasn’t hard on the eyes. He refocussed to the task at hand and flashed Peter a charming smirk and wink before ordering himself a drink from the bartender. It was actually his first alcoholic drink of the night, but it wouldn’t hurt to pretend that he’d already had a few. It would even be suspicious if he hadn’t, since it was already so late into the night. 

Once the drink arrived, Miesko’s plan had proved to work. Peter turned to the bartender and didn’t let Stiles pay, instead paying for Stiles’ drink and ordering a new one for himself. He turned further toward Stiles then, “Nice to meet you. You’re new here.” He showed Stiles a smirk of his own. His eyes lit up, sitting up straighter and taking a sip of his drink before nodding excitedly. 

“Yeah! I actually just moved here a few weeks ago. Thought I’d check out if this club was anything good!” Stiles explained over the music, his excited smile never leaving his face, making him look quite innocent and oblivious. He leaned his side against the sleek bar, subconsciously making the bright, flashing lights color his face from blue to purple and back again. 

Stiles noticed Peter raise one of his expressive eyebrows and the man leaned against the bar casually. Peter asked about his move and they fell into a simple yet flirty conversation easily. Miesko hadn’t gone over his backstory no less than fifty for nothing. It didn’t seem like long before they decided to go onto the dancefloor, but Peter had asked a lot about Stiles. It seemed like the man was just showing interest, but Stiles noticed it was more than that easily. The questions had underlying suspicion written all over them. It wasn’t anything strange from a man working in his family’s domestic terrorist association.

Miesko enjoyed himself on the dancefloor, being able to let go a little bit. He didn’t have to focus as much when they weren’t talking, just being his charming self like he was actually just trying to pick Peter up. He knew it was going to work when he wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck and he felt Peter’s hands land on his ass. He smirked at himself, but let Peter see it too. It wouldn’t raise suspicion.

--

In the morning, Miesko woke with a yawn and placed his forearm over his eyes. As soon as the fog cleared out of his brain he realized he wasn’t in his own bed. In fact, he was in a bed much comfier than his own or his new one. He rolled his shoulders to get the light ache out before squinting over at the man beside him. Peter Hale. Not that the ache in his back needed anymore explaining, but now that he got a good look at the man’s defined chest, Miesko definitely wasn’t surprised. He was glad to note that Peter didn’t seem awake yet, and he carefully slipped from under the soft, silky sheets to find his clothes and something to write on. Once he was dressed back into his clothes that had been carelessly strewn around the room, thanks Peter, he found a note and a pen in his own back pocket. 

Call me, hot stuff. [phone] x Stiles

He stuck the carefully written note to the dresser and stepped back. Miesko checked around the room if he didn’t leave anything damning behind before carefully starting to tip toe out of the bedroom. 

“Did’you leave a note?” A groggy grumble came from the bed, startling Stiles into turning back around to the bed and looking at Peter who hadn’t even opened his eyes. “Yeah.” He confirmed, deciding that if Peter didn’t even seem to be moving he would just continue out the door and so he did.

“Phone number?” The same voice came again right when Stiles was opening the door. He just looked over his shoulder this time, but did wait to leave. “On the note.” He confirmed, staring at the bed to see if Peter would actually do something this time. He did, but it wasn’t what Stiles had expected. The man just turned around in the bed, showing his back to Stiles. “M’kay.” He said, and like Stiles had needed any sort of incentive to leave, he waved his hand toward the door half-heartedly. 

Miesko stepped out of the room and made his way out the door of the penthouse, only sighing when the doors of the elevator had closed. He shook his head as he thought out of the interaction, even letting out a soft chuckle as he leaned his back against the cool wall of the elevator, sagging against the rail. Egotistical, check. Rich, check. Fucking amazing at sex, ch- Wait, that wasn’t on the list of descriptors. He rubbed his hands over his face and raised an eyebrow at himself accusingly in the mirror next to him. He noticed the terrible sex hair that was still decorating him and pushed his hand through it to sort that out just before he was already at the ground floor of the apartment building. He stretched once he was out of the lobby and blinked away the brightness of the morning sun before heading back to his new home.

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