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#Sterek fanfic
hedwig221b · 2 days
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Angel, Ignited
sterek | E | 38k | ao3
tags: Historical, Established Relationship, Arranged Marriage, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Spark Stiles, Alpha Derek, Possessive Derek, Full Shift Werewolves, Mates, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, not between sterek or either of them, Implied/Referenced Incest, Evil Gerard Argent, Murder
Summary:
He was a fool to tell himself he wasn’t thinking of Derek. How could the moon not think of its sun? How, when the light of it — the sight of him — made him yearn to live?
Stiles loved him before. Between their shared breath, upon their touch, after the tender words and giddy smiles, Stiles thought he knew what love was.
He was a fool.
This was love. This was how it felt.
Annihilative. Mournful.
Take all the air from his throat, he would still ask for Derek first.
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quackquackcey · 1 day
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Seared into his Soul | Rated E, 12k
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Here's my fic for @syr-monthly’s april event, with tender sterek falling asleep & spooning illustrated by @jojorice 🥰💛
Feat. red string of fate, magic, & huddling for warmth~
(Shower her art with love here!)
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Summary:
Stiles’ world crashes down around him when he learns his spark’s affinity, and he tries his best to keep it from affecting the people around him, especially Derek. As time passes, though, he finds himself lost and tired, but even worse is that Derek doesn't look better off despite his efforts—can they find their way back to each other? A story of the best intentions gone awry, warmth in the darkness, and coming home. 🔥✨
Read on AO3 here!
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nrnyx · 7 months
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Prompt: Can’t go wrong with a body swap scenario 
Thank you @imtryingandtired for the prompt! I hope you enjoy!
“Scott, we have a problem!” 
Scott's eyebrows did a thing that would have made Derek proud. “What? A bigger problem than the fact your body swapped with Derek.”
“I gotta pee,” Stiles rushed to say as he hopped from foot to foot. 
Scott's puppy face scrunched up with a mix of confusion and concern. “Why is that a problem? Does Derek have like a… medical condition? Does it burn or -”
“What, no! No!” Stiles cut in with a furious wave of his surprisingly soft but equally masculine hands. He lowered Derek’s voice even more so those in the next room wouldn’t hear him. “I just - what do I do, man? I have to, like, take it out and…”
“You mean you haven’t yet?” Scott asked in genuine surprise. 
“Of course, I haven’t, dumbass! What do you take me for? I would never take advantage of anyone's so very hot, like insanely hot and tempting body - temporarily mine or not.”
Scott threw up his hands in surrender. “Sorry! I’m sorry, I just - you haven't even looked?”
“No!” Stiles exclaimed, stomping Derek’s foot. “Help me!”
Scott looked around as if an answer was hiding somewhere. “I - I don’t know man, maybe asked Derek?”
“Ask Derek what?” Came Stiles's voice even though it wasn’t Stiles speaking. “What have you been doing to my body, Stiles?” It was amazing how Derek managed to make Stiles's eyebrows move in ways Stiles had never managed himself. He didn’t know his face could scowl like that. He didn’t know he had the muscles for it. 
Stiles, who was in Derek’s amazing body right now, closed his gorgeous eyes in defeat. Derek seriously had the longest eyelashes. He was never going to hear the end of this. 
Scott began to chuckle uncomfortably as he rubbed the back of his neck helplessly and waved a hand at Stiles. “That’s the problem he won’t do anything to it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Derek asked, crossing Stiles’s arms over his chest. It was so weird seeing Derek’s expressions on Stiles's face, although the stance was missing its usual impact due to the severe lack of big, beefy muscles to back it up.
Stiles pinched the bridge of - Derek’s perfectly symmetrical nose and decided just to bite the bullet or risk worse embarrassment if he didn’t figure out his dilemma soon. “I have to pee.”
Derek’s - Stiles's eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. “So go pee.” 
Stiles felt Derek’s all too tempting mouth fall open with his own shock. “I - I mean… it doesn’t bother you?” 
Stiles watched his own slender shoulders shrug, although Derek couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m more worried about the state of my bladder, to be honest. How long have you been holding it?” 
Stiles felt Derek’s cute ears go red in embarrassment, and wasn’t that a weird feeling? Now, not only did he know what Derek looked like when he blushed, but he knew how it felt as his adorable ears grew warm. “A while, I guess. I was trying to respect boundaries. I mean… I wasn’t sure - have you?” 
Stiles now knew what he looked like when he blushed. Was it always so obvious? 
“Oh,” Stiles said, feeling himself turn even redder, and he wondered if it was as visible on Derek’s darker skin as it was on his own pale skin. So Derek had touched his… Stiles couldn’t think about that right now, but it figured the first time another hand, even though it was technically his very familiar hand, had been on his dick, he wouldn’t be there to experience it. 
This was such a weird situation. 
It wasn’t like Stiles had anything to be embarrassed about. He was rather… endowed. It was sort of a thing he was known for, a rumor that followed him around school, even though he was still a virgin, so no one but the guys in the locker room could confirm it. 
Derek cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize it would be an issue. I’m sorry if I overstepped -“
“No! No!” Stiles protested before Derek could feel bad about it. If a guy had to pee, he had to pee. “I don’t have a problem with it. You’ve got full permission to do whatever you want with my body,” Stiles joked, trying to break the weird tension. He knew how much consent meant to Derek, which was why he’d been so hesitant in the first place. “I just thought that you might have an issue with me, uh… handling it.”
Derek just looked at him. “If you need permission, then this is me saying you can pee.” 
Stiles breathed a sigh as Derek’s big, broad, amazing shoulders sagged in relief. “Oh, thank god, do you maybe want to come help?”
“Are you asking me to hold it for you? With your hands?” Derek deadpanned, and did Stiles really look that bitchy when he was being sarcastic? He could see why people always felt the urge to hit him.
“I - I Just mean, do you?”
Derek looked at him with exasperation. “Stiles, go pee!” 
Stiles jumped into action. “Yeah, okay, do you like… want to come with -” 
“Stiles!” 
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sterekbigbang · 2 months
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Power of a Name (22,377) by @mindofmim Art by @eevylynn For @sterekbigbang 2023-2024, Round 6 Rating: Teen and Up Relationships & Characters: Derek/Stiles, Derek, Stiles, Scott, Sheriff, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Allison, Chris, Peter Tags: Kidnapping, fae, ritual, spark Stiles, soulmate au, Derek and Stiles are soulmates, pack to the rescue, pinning, Derek works as a mechanic, Derek and Stiles friendship, angst Derek, happy ending
Summary: Everyone has their soulmates first name written on their wrist (some born with it. For some it comes once there's soulmate is born), Derek got his when he turned five. From the moment he met Stiles, he wished they were soulmates. But "Stiles" isn't the name encoded on his wrist. Kidnapped by Fae, Stiles knows the only way to save Derek, and buy the pack enough time to figure out a rescue plan is to make a deal with the queen. And he's only got one bargaining chip - his name; Mieczysław. Derek lost everything the day his pack died, and again when he learnt Stiles was his soulmate (only to lose him in the same breath). His last hope was that the pack could decode Stiles' clue and bring him home, so he could apologize and make things right.
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mrspasser · 2 months
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I'll lay my head down here
Sterek fanfiction Stiles needs a place to sleep. He chooses Derek.
Also available on A03.
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“I’m not sleeping on the floor again, you assholes!” Stiles throws a balled up burger wrapper at the infuriating werewolves who took over his intended sleeping space. 
Isaac bats the greasy paper ball away with a quick flick of his hand, hardly having to look at it. “You snooze, you lose, Stilinski,” he says meanly, as he snuggles deeper inside the couch pillows to drive his point home. “Besides, I gave up my bed, I shouldn’t be the one to sleep on the floor.”
Stiles perks up when an idea crosses his mind. Upstairs, in Isaac’s room, are Lydia and Cora. Maybe he could -
“Don’t even think about it, Stilinski!” Jackson cuts his unspoken thought off with one sharp remark. He glares at him from his spot on the couch he’s sharing with Isaac: one asshole werewolf on each side. The guy is extra touchy because Lydia picked Cora as a sleeping partner over him - which is more than fair, if you ask Stiles, both Lydia picking Cora over Jackson and Jackson being sour over getting the cold shoulder from his girlfriend.
“I’m sorry, Stiles, I don’t think you’ll fit,” Allison offers apologetically from his right. She’s squeezed in the large armchair with Scott, who’s already fast asleep and snoring softly. 
He waves her offer away. If he’d try to squish himself in the chair with them, neither one of them would sleep a wink all night. Same goes for the couple in the other available chair, although Stiles is more sure to survive the night with Scott and Allison than with Boyd and Erica. That only leaves - 
“You could try Derek?” Allison blinks innocently at him. 
Stiles huffs a laugh, letting the sarcasm bleed through in generous helpings. “Yeah, right.” He leaves it at that, too tired to hope to put up the proper facade of pretending to dislike the Alpha werewolf. Hey, we all deal with our crushes in our own way! Stiles has to do what he can when literally living with a pack of wolves, who can smell pheromones and who knows what else.
Eventually, he settles for stretching out on the rug that Lydia made Derek buy a while back. It’s not overly cushiony, but it’ll do the job. It’ll have to. Besides, he hasn’t had a proper night of sleep in four or maybe even five days, staying up researching and worrying most of the night. The Big Bad is dead, the worrying is over and his research paid off: he should be able to sleep now, right?!
At first, Stiles uses his hoodie for a pillow, yet after about twenty minutes he gives up and pulls it back on because he won’t be able to sleep if he’s cold. Derek patched up most of the holes in his loft and it’s actually resembling a nice apartment these days, but it’s still the middle of the night in February and Stiles is lying on the floor without a blanket or a pillow. He misses his own bed. His comforter. His pillow. His other pillow, the one that’s older than him and oddly lumpy, but it was the one that was in his mother’s bed until the day she died. It hasn’t smelled like her in a long, long time. Stiles has also washed it a couple of times during the years, he’s not that much of a pig, despite popular opinion. But it’s familiar and comforting and he still takes it with him for sleepovers with Scott. 
He considers whether or not he would’ve brought his pillow if this impromptu sleepover had been planned in any way. He’s known Scott since kindergarten, he’s his best friend. He wouldn’t say or even think anything bad about Stiles still needing a special pillow to sleep even when he’s almost twenty one years old. And while he knows most of the people in this room for five years or even longer and trusts them with his life, that doesn’t mean that they’re not a bunch of dickheads who will tease him every chance they get.
It’s a pointless thought exercise, because nothing about this sleepover was planned. They were supposed to kill that wyvern during the day, when it slept in his creepy little cave. That's what all Stiles’ research was for! He even found a way to kill the beast without having to hack it to pieces, which was nice because in the end he was against animal cruelty, you know? But then there were witches, two of them. They weren’t planned, neither was the ensuing fight in the woods. The unexpectedness of it all had left everybody antsy, especially the werewolves. And even though they recouped with a movie night and a nice pack pile, nobody wanted to be very far away from the others. Hence the impromptu sleepover that had Stiles sleeping on a rug, between the coffee table and the couch. Which wasn’t fair, because he totally knocked a witch out with his bat! He did his fair share and pulled his weight and what not. The least he deserves is a nice night of sleep.
Another hour later, Stiles is sore all over and chilled to the bone. There’s no way he can sleep like this. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he whispers to the leg of the coffee table that he knows has Isaac’s claw marks on it. 
As quietly as he can he makes his way upstairs on the rounding stairs. On the landing there’s three doors to choose from: the one on his left leads to Isaac’s bedroom, where Lydia and Cora are sleeping. The one in the middle is the bathroom - with a bath, for heaven’s sake, Derek has a tub! - and that leaves the master bedroom on his right. The Alpha’s den. Stiles has never been inside it. He even doubts if Isaac has set foot in the room very often, besides for cleaning purposes.
Stiles never really intended to go into Derek’s room, because despite what the others seem to think, he actually values his life. And his dignity. He thought it better to take a chance with the girls, take on the risk of Jackson wanting to kill him the next morning when he discovered Stiles had slept in the same bed as his girlfriend.
But…
The door to Derek’s bedroom is cracked.
Stiles can see inside. 
He can’t see that much, with it being the middle of the night and the only light coming from a gap between the curtains in front of Derek’s window. But the moonlight is just right, illuminating the sleeping form of the Alpha in the bed. A bed that is more than large enough for two people and Derek is neatly sleeping on one side of the bed. If Stiles is quiet enough he might even be able to slip into the bed without waking Derek. The werewolf got hurt pretty badly today and healing always takes a lot out of him. There’s a pretty good chance the guy is sleeping like a log.
Stiles takes a deep breath. He’s gonna risk it.
***
He didn’t think he’d actually do it, but after a few minutes of indecisiveness on the landing, Stiles quietly tiptoes into Derek’s bedroom. He rounds the bed to the unoccupied side of the mattress and gingerly lifts the tip of the blanket.
“You’re not getting in with your jeans on,” Derek says, without opening his eyes.
Stiles yelps and he’s already stammering halfway through an apology when he suddenly shuts his mouth. His back teeth actually click together. There’s a few seconds of silence and then: “You’d let me into your bed?”
“Not with your jeans on,” Derek repeats. Usually he wouldn’t do this, but he’s been listening to Stiles toss and turn downstairs for a while now and with all of his pack members sleeping peacefully, he’d like the last one to get some rest too. Besides, Stiles would continue to keep him up with his restless behaviour otherwise; Derek just can’t seem to tune him out. It’s been that way for years already, maybe even from the beginning.
“O-kay.” He can feel Stiles staring at him in the dark and he patiently waits for the decision he knows the boy is gonna make. No, not a boy. Stiles will be 21 this Spring. Derek has seen him grow up, literally and figuratively, along with the rest of his ragtag pack of teenagers. Stiles still wears jeans and plaid most of the time, but the garments don’t hang as loose on him as they did when he was 16. He’s grown into a handsome young man, with a good head on his broad shoulders. Derek counts himself lucky to have Stiles as part of his pack, to have him close. Not as close as he sometimes might wish, yet Derek is always conscious of not playing favourites. So he usually keeps Stiles at an arm length and takes care to treat him just like everyone else. It helps that the two of them elevated snark and banter to an effective communication style. Despite all the sarcasm and barbs, Derek is pretty sure there is no-one in his pack who sees through him like Stiles does. It was scary at first and it made him lash out, but Stiles stood firm. Derek is immensely grateful that he did.
There’s the rustling of clothing hitting the floor, jeans and a shirt, then the blanket lifts and Stiles scoots underneath. Derek feels him settle in behind his back, a foot or so away. “Thanks,” Stiles whispers in the dark.
“Go to sleep,” Derek grunts, eager to go to sleep and not think about the young man who is sharing his bed.
***
Derek’s bed is pretty comfortable, Stiles thinks to himself as he digs himself in. Oh, who is he kidding?! Derek’s bed is amazing. The mattress is just the right combination of firm and soft, the pillow hugs his head and shoulders just right and the comforter is warm but still light to the touch. It’s a million times better than his bed at home, even when he’s not counting the fact that he’s sharing the bed with a hot werewolf.
Yet Stiles can’t sleep. 
Yes, the pillow is heavenly. Yes, the mattress allows his tired body to finally relax. Yes, the comforter hugs him nicely. But there’s something missing and Stiles knows exactly what it is. His pillow.
He needs to hold something. He needs to be able to curl around something. Or someone, his traitorous brain suggests as he feels Derek move across from him.
“Why aren’t you asleep, Stiles?” Derek asks in that long-suffering tone he uses when Stiles is doing something to annoy him. Which is pretty often, although Stiles knows the annoyance is mostly for show these days. He has turned onto his back, his eyes glinting in the moonlight where they are looking over at Stiles.
“Can’t,” Stiles laments, trying to catch the comforter between his arms in lieu of his dearly missed pillow. It doesn’t really work, because the comforter also has to cover Derek’s bulk and there’s little left to use. Little to none, especially when Derek snatches the comforter back from where it was probably leaving a cold gap on Derek’s other side. The sudden move has Stiles sort of falling over from where he was laying on his side. He’s more on his front now, filling up the space that was between them at first. He can feel the warmth of Derek’s body from just a few inches away. It’s actually kind of comforting.
“Try harder,” Derek commands and he closes his eyes again.
Stiles thinks of answering ‘Yes, Alpha’, but thinks better of it. It might make Derek move again, to push Stiles out of bed instead of pulling him in to have a cuddle. So he stays quiet and closes his eyes, focussing his mind on the almost tangible presence of Derek’s bare shoulder mere inches away. Derek is warm and smells nice and if Stiles was a werewolf, he’s sure he’d feel even better about having his Alpha so close. Yet even though he’s not a werewolf, he still enjoys it. A lot.
He falls asleep.
He knows that, because he wakes up at some point, at an unknown hour of the night. He’s warm, so warm. And comfortable, even though his pillow is a lot firmer than he remembers it being. It also moves a little, because his pillow is Derek and the Alpha werewolf gently moves his arm in what Stiles suspects is a more comfortable position. He would panic about sleeping half on top of Derek if he were not so damn comfortable. It’s hard to keep his eyes open. Surely if Derek wouldn’t want him sleeping on him, he’d push Stiles off. Instead, Stiles feels Derek’s arm wrap around his back, accompanied by a soft sigh from the Alpha.
Stiles sleeps.
***
Derek is not the first to wake up, although he is certainly not the last. He becomes aware of the world with Stiles wrapped around his torso, his head pillowed on Derek’s chest. He’s only a little surprised by how good it feels to wake up like this and it takes a while before he brings himself to carefully move out of Stiles’ embrace. The boy mumbles a little, but doesn’t wake up. Derek watches him for a moment, standing beside his bed. He’s not sure how to feel about this, except for some embarrassment about wanting to crawl back into bed and slot himself back into Stiles’ arms.
Downstairs, most of the pack is still asleep. Isaac has his arms wrapped around Jackson’s lower legs, as if he’s cuddling a particularly bony teddy bear. Jackson is still asleep, even snoring softly. Scott snores too, curled around his girlfriend in the large armchair. In the other armchair, Boyd is watching him carefully, his arms wrapped around his sleeping girlfriend. 
“Morning,” the dark man rumbles quietly, not to wake Erica.
“Morning,” Derek answers, keeping his voice down as well. “Coffee?”
Boyd inclines his head in thanks and Derek ambles on to the kitchen, where he finds Lydia, immersed in a science journal. She has a cappuccino sitting in front of her, the cup half empty. “Good morning, Derek,” she says, briefly glancing up from her reading material.
“Morning,” he repeats, busying himself with the coffee maker. He brings a cup to Boyd when he’s done and returns to join Lydia at the table. He sits back in his chair, his coffee in front of him, to catch the rays of pale sunlight that slant through the high windows. It’s quiet in the loft, with most of the people still sleeping and the ones that are awake quietly starting up their day.
He sips from his coffee, listening to the sounds of Cora waking up and going into the bathroom. She comes downstairs not long after, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt - same as her brother, her bare feet hardly making a sound. He points to the mostly full pot of coffee on the counter when she enters the kitchen and he gets a hair ruffle as thanks from his little sister. She pours herself a cup and leans against the counter, enjoying the sunlight on her face just like he is. 
It’s Stiles who comes down next, although Derek can hear from the way he drags his feet that he’s barely awake. Why he’s not sleeping in like he should be, is anyone’s guess. He expects Stiles to stop in the living room, to wake up Scott or maybe even Jackson if he’s feeling particularly cheeky, but he doesn’t. The footsteps pretty much make a beeline from the stairs towards the kitchen. Derek opens one eye from where he closed them against the sunrays to see Stiles shuffling towards him in his boxers and T-shirt, rubbing a hand over his face and yawning soundlessly. His hair is standing up on one side. He’s wearing socks, navy blue ones with a red line near the toes.
The werewolf opens his mouth to point his packmate towards the coffee maker, but before he can say anything, Stiles has reached his chair and slings a hairy leg over his lap. He plonks down unceremoniously and lays his head on Derek’s shoulder, arms wrapping loosely around his waist. 
“You were gone,” Stiles mumbles disapprovingly, his mouth moving against Derek’s collarbone. And just like that his heartbeat evens out and he’s fast asleep again.
Derek sits frozen in his chair, his heart beating loudly inside his ribcage. If Stiles were awake he could probably feel it pound against his own chest. His hands hover uselessly on either side, not knowing whether to wrap around Stiles or pick him up and toss him to the floor. 
Stiles is oblivious, his sleeping body moulding easily against Derek’s. He’s warm and pliant, just like he was when they were sleeping together in Derek’s bed. 
When he chances a look at Lydia across the table, she’s already watching him steadily with a sly smile playing around the corners of her lips. “Glad to see you two finally got your heads out of your asses,” she comments eventually, before primly taking a sip from her cappuccino and going back to her reading.
Behind him, Cora snorts quietly in amusement. She comes up at his back and puts a hand in his hair again, running her fingers through the short strands. It’s grounding and Derek only notices how much he needs that when she lightly scratches her nails across his scalp. 
“He’s cute like this,” his sister remarks and even though he can hear the humour in her voice, he can also hear the truth in her heartbeat. “Best not wake him up, big bro.” She runs her hand through his hair one last time and then she wanders off, leaving him to carefully wrap one arm around Stiles’ lower back.
Slowly, Derek feels himself relax. The loft is quiet and peaceful and Derek is in his own little bubble, with the sunlight on his face and Stiles in his lap. Almost automatically, he starts to rub his hand slowly up and down Stiles’ back. Aside from some sleepy snuffling, there’s no real response. Derek picks his coffee back up and slowly drinks it, tilting his face towards the sun. It’s a nice morning.
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I was going to do a text post of a sterek incorrect quote;
Derek: I have the urge to do something stupid.
Stiles: I’m stupid. Do me.
But a different idea struck me, and I had to write out a little scene.
Derek sat in the armchair, the light from the window bleeding over his shoulder and illuminating the pages of the book that lay open in his lap. He let out a deep breath, shutting the book and blurting out, “I have the urge to do something stupid.”
“I’m stupid. Do me,” Stiles replied without thought, not taking his eyes off the screen of his laptop that was balanced precariously on his stomach as he lay upside down on the couch.
Stiles froze, his eyes widening as he realised what he’d said. His cheeks flushed red, but he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or from the blood rushing to his head.
“What?” Derek said, his tone stretched thin and edged with anger.
Stiles opened his mouth to say something but the words died on his lips as he sputtered and shrugged as if trying to brush it off.
“Stiles, you are not stupid,” Derek growled.
Stiles blinked rapidly, stunned by Derek’s words.
Derek continued without hesitation, “You’re one of the smartest people I know. Clumsy and uncoordinated, yes, but not stupid. Don’t say that; don’t even think it! You’re not stupid, Stiles, and I don’t ever want to hear you call yourself stupid again. And I wouldn’t do you; that’s just—”He screwed his face up in disgust. “—ugh. No. No way. You deserve better than do. Dear god, I would make love to you. I would hold you in my arms and Melt as I feel the warmth of your body against mine. I trace the curves of your naked body and utter your name like a prayer. I would kiss you until I had no more breath in my lungs, and even then, I wouldn’t dare stop. I would not do you.”
He huffed out an angry breath as he sat back.
Stiles stared at him, his eyes wide and a dumbfounded expression on his face.
A moment later, Derek’s brain caught up with his mouth. Realisation hit him hard. A rush of heat coloured his cheeks bright red.
“I… I mean… I…” he stammered, unable to find any words.
Stiles stared at him, still looking like a deer caught in headlights. “Okay.”
Derek’s brow furrowed as he looked at Stiles, utterly confused.
“What?”
“Okay,” Stiles repeated.
“Okay?” Derek echoed questioningly.
“Okay,” Stiles said again.
They stared at each other for a moment, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
“Okay,” Derek said after a while.
They tore their eyes away from one another, their faces twisted with perplexed expressions as they processed what they had said.
Silence settled over them.
“You still got that urge?” Stiles asked abruptly.
Derek glanced back at him, meeting Stiles’s gaze. “What do you have in mind?”
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teencopandthesourwolf · 6 months
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He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do. 
He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him. 
Was it Laura?
Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.
She didn't tell him she was going before she left New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone. She'd known without doubt that Derek would only follow her if she had said a single word to him.
Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who he prayed to. The desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.
Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.
Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't mark graves, or grieve properly. 
That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.
Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.
The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.
The thought still haunts him. One of so fucking many. 
Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him, tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.
In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.
Alpha.
Big sister.
But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.
He never told her about Kate.
And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack. 
Now, he remembers that last time. 
“I'm going out.” 
Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him, scenting him. 
It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back. 
“What's this for?”
“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”
Oh, fuck no. Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? Never again, not after…
He pushed his sister off him, gently; a stark contrast to the harsh words that followed. 
“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's fucking bed but my own.” A single mattress on the floor of the lounge of their shitty one bedroom apartment. Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me alone.”
Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his guilt was constantly pushing her away. 
“Then where do you go to all these nights, little brother? You might not be clinging to me anymore, night after night, nightmare after nightmare, but you're so rarely in your own bed in the mornings.” She hadn't meant it as a dig. She was his sister and she loved him.
Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.
Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars, hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperately trying to find scumbags he could taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.
Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.
“Just—out.”
Then Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back. 
That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.
It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since. 
Now here he is, standing in his big stupid loft that he bought for his betas—yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, with skinny yet strong arms wrapping themselves as far around his shoulders as they can reach. 
Stiles.
“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect, his connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.
He knows all about those.
“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it. 
But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.
Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back, feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck. 
Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”
And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, Derek believes there could be something good in his life again.
More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly, and allows himself to be hugged back.
Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.
He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Because maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude? 
Stiles's dude.
It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less. 
“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."
Derek can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And, ironically, Derek feels as if he can breathe again. 
.
for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3 (unedited, forgive me!)
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funkywolf · 2 months
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5 Things we learned from sterek fanfics
Eyebrows
Stiles must smell like derek
Derek loves to mark
Sourwolf
"Dude" "Dont call me dude"
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nezmar13 · 10 days
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Derek will never get enough of watching the red spread across his mate´s skin, his eyes never leaving the blushed cheeks and trembling shoulders as Stiles clenches tightly around him from how oversensitive he got with every passing minute Derek relentlessly drives up into him, hips slamming up as the human holds on the alpha for dear life.
Yes, Derek has never seen anything as beautiful as Stiles lost within his arms.
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https://ko-fi.com/wanda_nezmar13
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thotpuppy · 15 days
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ThotPuppy's Historical-themed Sterek Fic Recs
I know lots of folks have already done one of these! BUT! This is one of my favorite tropes, so... here are some of my faves! As a note, these largely range from ~vaguely medieval~ to incredibly well-researched SPECIFIC 'Medieval' to ~general regency ish~ to VERY Regency to various points in between. I am also aware of some as of yet unwritten but ~coming soon/eventually~ Pirate, Wild West, 1920s, and of course Medieval pieces coming out, so I MAY have to post an updated version in a year or so lol
Also... have one that's not here? PLEASE send it to me! Especially Medieval Fantasy. It's my FAVORITE and I KNOW there are more that I don't have/don't have saved and I'm very interested!
Golden Boy by trilliath Rated E, Complete, 127k+
A Most (Im)Proper Proposal by Welsh_Woman Rated E, Complete, 200k+
Entente by Siria Rated E, Complete, 44k+
A Desperate Arrangement by mikkimouse Rated E, Complete, 115k+
Foolish devouring things, build your castle in me by LunaCanisLupus_22 Rated E, Complete, 23k+
The Consort's Tourney by Lalaith_Quetzalli Rated T, Complete, 12k+
The Wolf in the Tower by exclamation Rated M, Complete, 57k+
Propriety and Pursuit by JenyaKeefe Rated E, Complete, 27k+
The Wrong Hale by Dextrous_Sinistrous Rated E, Complete, 77k+
The White Hart of Winter by DarkAthena Rated E, Complete, 65k+
The Marriage Contract by Palendrome Rated E, Complete, 12k+
The Omega Servant and the Alpha King by EmeraldTrident Rated E, Complete, 2.4k+
Where the Real Beasts Are by kaistrex Rated E, Complete, 109k+
I Made a Vow Out to the Dark by WhoGeek Rated T, Complete, 22k+
I'm Not Asking Questions, I'm Taking My Chances by keldjinfae Rated E, Complete, 80k+
Here are a few that I haven't had a chance to read yet, but the mere concepts have me in a chokehold:
Kingdoms Fall by Gia279 Rated M, Complete, 74k+
A Pauper's Prince (Revised) by Welsh_Woman Rated E, Complete, 83k+
A Wolf's Heart by Palendrome Rated E, Complete, 22k
Tangled Crowns by Halevetica Not Rated, WIP, 37k+
A Winter's Knight by changez Rated E, Complete, 5.5k+
I Won't Be Alone For The Rest Of My Life by blackorchids Rated G, Complete, 1.4k+
And lastly, would I really be that bitch if I didn't rec my own?
Triskelion Reign: the Shepherd, the Lamb, and the Wolf Rated E, WIP, 47k+
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Tagging authors (i know of on here) so they know we out here loving and appreciating them! @Athenadark , @outtoshatter, @halevetica, @changez4sterek, @lalaithquetzallicaresi, you all write lovely works and I appreciate your efforts <3
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sterek-exchange · 2 months
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2024 Valentine's Exchange Round-up!
constellations in the dark by Winchesterek for EvanesDust
to forever by EvanesDust for Winchesterek
Sometimes It Takes a Misunderstanding To Know Where You Stand by gryvon for Renmackree
The Meddling Plans of Lydia Martin (Or How Derek Hale Stopped Being a Martyr) by justanotherbusyfangirl for alikatastic
Inevitable Us by thinkingaboutelephants for StaciNadia
Small Town Logic by Renmackree for justanotherbusyfangirl
A Touch of Pain by Goddess47 for HadrianPeverellBlack
Weirder Things by Renmackree for TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving
You're Good by eevylynn for L_Grae
Burning For You by MadMim for thinkingaboutelephants
Parallel Hearts by L_Grae for trinipedia
A Happy Accident by alikatastic for eevylynn
This time I won't be afraid to try by trinipedia for Issay
It was to get to you by trinipedia for gryvon
Valentine's Day Wooing by StaciNadia for MadMim
Ink and Flowers and Love by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving for malectarlos
Halfway House for Mystical Misfits by HiddenInOrbit for WeAreTheLuckyOnes
Will you be my date? by HadrianPeverellBlack for Goddess47
The Best Day by alikatastic for MelodramaticSalad
shadows searching for light by WeAreTheLuckyOnes for HiddenInOrbit
A Favor For A Favor by MelodramaticSalad for Alaidiem
Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete by malectarlos for pseudofoucault333
Thank you to everyone that participated in this round of @sterek-exchange! Our next exchange will be for Summer! Hope to see everyone again then!
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hedwig221b · 22 hours
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qween
let me rizz you into sharing another one of your wips 😈
*deep breath*
please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please ple-
I'M LAUGHING SO HARD
I have no wips (I know but I'm trying to develop a plot with abo sterek with another meow-meow Stiles) BUT I have a finished fic that is marinating until y'all finish reading Angel, Ignited. Here's a snippet from Eros, Mania, Amor
*
Stiles smiled.
“You have questions,” he said turning the focus of his pale shining eyes on Jordan.
He couldn’t help but glance at his body again.
Four deep bleeding cuts marred the spark’s chest. They were clean and precise as if something sliced through the skin and muscle like it was butter.
Jordan swallowed. He pulled some cotton cloth out of his suitcase and dabbed it into the plantain mixture.
“Did…” he cleared his throat. “Did he do that to you?”
Stiles continued smiling, light as if there weren't four obvious claw marks on his chest. “Would you believe me if I said no?”
Jordan stared at him.
As the shock settled, as the scope of the reality began to sink in, the hatred bubbled like a bile in his throat.
He must focus. He must help this precious creature and leave the hate for later.
Clenching his teeth, he began to dab the cotton on the skin, cleaning around the edges first. He winced along with Stiles and a tiny part of his soul died every time the spark let out a stiff groan.
Stiles shouldn’t know any pain.
No, but how dare—
Focus. Focus!
“How long has it been like that?” Jordan asked quietly.
Stiles hummed. “A week, maybe.”
Stiffening, Jordan glanced at him. “It shouldn’t be in this condition, then. It tears open before it can heal. You don’t do any straining activities, do you?”
“Can’t you tell?”
Jordan snapped his mouth shut. He felt horrified at the sight of Stiles’ smile, unflinching and light. What hid behind those smiles?..
The man glanced down, making Jordan follow his gaze. And, there, at the top of the hip bone, right at the edge of the pants.
A clear fingerprint, dark mauve.
It’s been a long time since Jordan’s hands trembled, from fury nonetheless. Enraged and aghast, he wanted to burst out of these doors, find the wolf, and—
A chilly hand closed upon his. Jordan looked up and saw the gentle gaze of Stiles’ big white-gold eyes.
“I’m getting kind of cold, doctor,” he smirked and let Jordan go.
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patolemus · 2 months
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Here’s a little thing that’s been bugging me for a few weeks.
Summary: Stiles is a demon. This is common knowledge. At least, he was under the impression that this is common knowledge. He should have known better than to trust Derek Hale to figure it out.
————————————
Look, in his defense, Stiles was sure they knew. At least, he was sure Derek knew, and if Derek knew, then the rest of the pack knew. That’s just kind of how it works, when they aren’t hiding threats from each other.
(He’s not pointing fingers. It’s just that Stiles sometimes gets fucking tired when the pack does not tell him shit and then he ends up having to figure it all out by himself so they don’t get themselves killed. It wasn’t funny the first time Scott tried it back in sophomore year. It hasn’t gotten any funnier since.)
(Alright, so he is pointing fingers. Sue him.)
Stiles is a demon. And okay, before anyone gets mad and starts saying shit like ‘no he’s not, he’s just a bit chaotic’, he… well, Stiles will admit to being chaotic as a general rule, but that is more of a character choice. He’s being for real when he says he’s a demon.
His parents couldn’t have children. It’s just how it goes sometimes. But Claudia was a very powerful witch, and she knew a thing or two about making pacts with demons. So when the doctors told her she could not carry any children, she figured the next step was obviously to summon a creature from down below and make a deal with it in exchange for a child.
That’s where Stiles comes in.
Claudia probably wasn’t expecting a demon child to come to her when she did her summoning, but personally? Stiles thinks she lucked out. Stiles is a friendly demon, as far as those go, and his policy regarding humans is more ‘see what makes them tick’ rather than ‘make them burst into flames spontaneously’, so all in all, she could have done a lot worse.
So that’s kind of how he ends up as Stiles Stilinski, son of John and Claudia Stilinski. Claudia and John are the only ones that know Stiles’ true name, though only Claudia can say it right. John tries his best, but they all collectively decide that Mischief is a rather good alternative.
In exchange for being the best son anyone could have, Stiles gets to spend an unspecified amount time on the mortal realm. Claudia doesn’t put any restrictions on him, on the understanding that Stiles can’t go and kill people for kicks. Annoying them is fair game, though.
That’s fine. Stiles has never been particularly interested in needless violence. He’d much rather learn everything there is to know about humans. Such interesting creatures. Truly fascinating.
And that’s how he spends the next twelve years of his life. He makes one singular friend - humans tend to get this instinctual need to get away from demons, but Scott doesn’t have any survival instincts at all, so it works out fine - and spends most of his time enjoying the admittedly mundane life of a human child.
Stiles knows there’s a pack of werewolves living in town, but he never runs into them, and then they die in that terribly suspicious fire and the survivors leave. The town quiets down a lot after that, and Stiles tries not to mourn the loss too badly. The energy they gave off was very pleasant.
Then the werewolves come back to town.
Stiles doesn’t intent to get involved. He doesn’t. He’s a demon, he doesn’t care for mortal affairs no matter how amusing they are. So he doesn’t do anything when he feels the presence of an Alpha in Beacon Hills after seven years. A not his circus not his monkeys kinda situation. But then Scott gets turned into a werewolf, and Stiles doesn’t care for mortal affairs but he does care about Scott, so really, it was inevitable.
There’s also Derek Hale. Derek Hale with his lickable abs and his chiseled scowly face and that angryhurtsadmiserable aura of his. Stiles acuses him of murder, Derek shoves him into walls. How is Stiles supposed to not become completely obsessed?
Anyways.
Stiles isn’t sure how he ended up in a pack of werewolves of all things - demons are lonely creatures, they don’t get packs - but he can probably blame Scott for that. It’s pretty alright, even if he gets dragged into every possible supernatural matchup imaginable. At least no one is busting out the holy water. Not that it would work, that’s a myth. Stiles had that phase as a kid where he went to church every Sunday morning and received the sacrament of Eucharist just for kicks. His dad didn’t find it funny, but Stiles still thinks it’s fucking hilarious. Now he uses the name of Jesus Christ every time he can. It’s blasphemous and Stiles thinks it’s hilarious too.
Back to the point, Stiles never bothered to hide he’s a demon. He doesn’t advertise it, of course, but he doesn’t go out of his way to mask his scent or whatever. He’s powerful enough that he can take on mostly anything that comes find him. So he thought Derek knew, and was just being chill about it and not mentioning it.
Apparently not.
The bitten wolves, he could understand. They still mix up deer and rabbit after years of being bitten when they’re running in the preserve. But Derek’s a born wolf. He was trained since he was a kid, and it’s not like demons are hard to sniff out. Hell clings to Stiles like a second skin.
Well, it turns out Derek is the ultimate failwolf, because after four years, he still had no idea. It takes a run in with another demon - this one does like to set humans on fire, unfortunately, so Stiles has to banish it back to Hell - and even then Stiles has to practically spell it out for him. Stiles is only a bit disappointed in him. Mostly, he’s still a bit confused on how Derek even missed it in the first place.
“Dude, can’t you smell it?” he asks, and they’re alone in the loft because everyone else has gone out to buy celebratory donuts while they try to get the scorch marks off Derek’s wall. It’s not going as well as they hoped.
Instead of an answer, or a growl, which is his primary method of communication, Derek does something unexpected and fucking—blushes.
Huh. Okay.
Wait, no. Not okay. What?
“It’s not considered polite to act on the way people smell, Stiles,” and Derek’s voice is strangled, like it hurts him to get the words out. He’s always been bad at talking but Jesus Christ, this is excessive.
(Heh. Jesus Christ. It will never not be funny.)
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve sniffed out other supernatural creatures or people’s intentions. It’s what you do. Other than rip out throats and creep around my window, obviously,” Derek’s scowl makes an appearance - there it is, Stiles was getting worried for a second - looking back at the scorched wall like it’s going to magically clean itself with the power of his rage.
Stiles could probably do something like that. Maybe. His magic is chaotic on a good day, so he can’t really call it reliable. Destructive, definitely. Offensive, if he has to pick between that and defense. Stiles is terrible at that.
He’s really getting off track here.
“That’s different. You’re not a supernatural creature,” Derek says stubbornly and what?
“What?”
“What,” it’s impressive how he always manages to ask questions that don’t sound like questions.
“What do you mean, I’m not a supernatural creature? Are you—“ Stiles looks at his Alpha with narrowed eyes, mouth open mid sentence as it finally downs on him that they’re talking about very different things. “What did you think I meant when I asked you if you smelt it?”
Derek stubbornly refuses to say anything. That’s fine. Stiles is the king of stubborn, he can out-stubborn anyone at any given time.
“Tell me,” he presses. Derek doesn’t say anything. “Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell—“
“Jesus fuck, Stiles, fine!” heh. Stiles knew he’d break. “I was smelling that you’re horny. All the time.”
That— that’s not what Stiles was expecting. Um. Okay. So things got awkward very fucking quickly.
“Oh,” he says, and now he sounds strangled because he thought he’d kept that little tidbit of information hidden quite nicely. It turns out Derek was just being polite about it.
God, does it mean the betas can smell it too? Oh, no, no no no no.
(Heh. God. Stiles is so funny.)
(He really has to stop unfocusing like this.)
Stiles is officially mortified. Turns out even demons get prudish after spending so much time in the mortal realm. Who knew? It’s okay, Stiles will just find the nearest bridge to throw himself off from. If he has any luck he’ll die instantly and won’t get back to Hell so he doesn’t have to live with this knowledge forever.
“It’s okay. I know it’s not personal or anything,” Derek’s still not looking at him. He’s grabbed back his rag and is valiantly rubbing away at the wall. Stiles doesn’t have the heart to tell him that if the mark hasn’t come out already, it probably never will. He’d know, he’s burned plenty of walls before.
By accident, if his dad ever asks.
“That’s fine and all, only it’s very personal,” and Stiles is just making a bigger hole to bury himself in, but his mouth is faster than his brain. It’s an ongoing issue. “You don’t think I’m horny all the fucking time, right? I mean, demons do have that hyper hormonal stage at my age but assuming it’s all the time is a bit excessive. I’m not a succubus. This is completely a you thing.”
Derek’s face does that thing where it pinches in between his eyebrows and his eyes narrow a bit, lips pressed together tightly. It’s his Stiles Just Said Something Deeply Upsetting face. He uses it a lot.
Alright, time to backtrack.
“It’s really okay that you don’t feel the same. Really, I get it. I wouldn’t feel the same about me either. So let’s just ignore I ever said anything, and we can go back to trying to clean this up even if we both know it’s not going to come out,” he offers Derek his most winning smile. Derek’s face just gets even more pinched.
Stiles’ senses are pretty dulled here on the mortal realm, but he doesn’t need them to know his Alpha is probably very pissed. At him, specifically.
So it’s Tuesday, then.
Stiles takes a step back, just as a precaution. He doesn’t think Derek will throw him against a wall - he stopped doing that a couple of years ago. Stiles refuses to acknowledge he kinda misses it - but you can never be too cautious. And Stiles did kind of just confess his undying horniness for him.
Imagine if he’d also told the guy he’s utterly and helplessly in love with him. That would have gone fantastically. Not.
“You’re a demon?” Derek’s voice comes out more high pitch than Stiles has ever heard it. He’s surprised. Why is he surprised? This is what they were talking about, before Stiles stuck a foot in his mouth. “Since when?”
“Since always? Seriously dude, can’t you smell it?”
It’s like they’re back in square one.
So. Turns out Derek truly had no idea Stiles is a demon. No wonder he’d looked like Stiles had grown a second head when he banished that fiend back to Hell.
On the good side, Derek apparently also returns his feelings, after they go in circles a few more times and Stiles gets across that he’s not just horny, he’s in love. A happy ending, in Stiles’ opinion.
(“How did you end up as the son of the Sheriff anyway? Is he a demon, too?”
“Hmn? Oh, no. My mom just did this summoning ritual for a Prince of Hell to get them a child, and I showed up. It was kind of a two for one deal,” he waves his hand dismissively.
“You’re a what?”
Oh, boy. Stiles knew he was forgetting something.)
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nrnyx · 7 months
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PROMPT: How about Derek and Stiles meeting at a dog adoption event and falling in love over the same dog.
Thank you @steelcodewolf-blog for the prompt!
Stiles ran up to the counter and slammed his application down. “For Sparky!” he gasped out of breath as he’d just sprinted the entire mile to the adoption agency after his jeep broke down. It was finally the day. Stiles was free of his lease agreement and moving into a pet-friendly apartment. He could have a dog - his dog because he’d been visiting Sparky for months now after seeing his cute picture online. 
The animal shelter staff held Sparky as long as they could for him, but he’d been warned that today was their big adoption fair, and Sparky would be part of the group being pushed hardest for adoption. Sparky had already been with them for nearly a year before Stiles showed up, and before that, poor Sparky had been shipped from another shelter in New York. The shelter couldn’t hold him if someone wanted to adopt him. 
Stiles hadn’t been too worried. One of the reasons Sparky was still around was because he was a rather large and somewhat alarming German Shepard mix that might have actually been a wolf-dog, but the shelter didn’t have the funds to test his genetics, to be sure. Sparky had never been aggressive or tried to attack anyone. He was a chill dog that loved belly rubs, so he remained up for adoption. 
The staff even said that Stiles was the only person Sparky had ever shown an interest in. Sparky didn’t really like toys, wasn’t interested in other dogs or attention of any kind really, but he liked Stiles. The staff said he already knew the sound of Stiles's jeep and only ever bothered barking to alert them that Stiles was coming. Stiles adored the old grump right back and had visited him at least once every few days with the hopes that no one else would take notice of just how awesome Sparky was. 
Being a newly graduated college student and an intern with the FBI didn’t exactly bring in the big bucks yet, so Stiles had to wait for his lease to be up in order to find a new place to live that allowed pets. He’d managed to scrape up enough extra money for the rather hefty pet deposit and had Sparky a new bed, food, and dog tags waiting for him in the jeep, which they would have to walk back to, but he was sure Sparky would like the chance to stretch his legs.
It was going to be awesome.
Martha’s face fell as soon as she realized it was him, and Stiles felt his heart falling right along with her look of pity. “Stiles…” she started, but Stiles didn’t give her time to finish.
“Where’s Sparky? Please tell me you didn’t give him to some stranger off the street! I’ve been coming in for months!” Stiles protested in disbelief. How could they betray him? He thought they were all rooting for him and Sparky. He’d told them he would be in by the end of the day. They promised that even if someone tried to adopt, they wouldn’t let Sparky leave the same day. They’d make an excuse to hold him as long as they could for Stiles.
“I’m so sorry, Stiles. I know how excited you’ve been. This must be so heartbreaking for you, but his dad showed up,” the woman explained with actual tears in her eyes. 
Stiles couldn’t find his voice. That had been the last thing he’d expected to hear. “His dad?” he finally managed to get out. “His dad?”
“Yes, he had proof -” 
“He lost him! He lost him for over a year, and you’re just going to let him walk in and take him! Just like that? Clearly, the guy wasn’t a responsible dog parent to begin with. I mean, what kind of evidence did this guy have?”
“Uh Stiles…” Martha tried to interrupt, but Stiles was on a roll. There was no way Sparky was going anywhere with anyone but him. 
“Because photos can be photoshopped, and videos can be falsified. I know! I work for the FBI. Who is this guy? I want to see some I.D. and this so-called evidence. No one is leaving here with Sparky until I hear this assholes side of the story because there’s no way Sparky - ”  
“Jacks,” a male voice spoke up from beside him, and Stiles was momentarily left speechless as he turned and caught sight of, frankly, the most attractive guy he’d ever seen in his entire life, and he’d gone to school with Jackson Whittmore. 
“Holy shit, adopt me,” Stiles mumbled before his brain-to-mouth filter could catch up.
The guy's eyebrows did something impressive. “What?” 
“What?” Stiles asked back equally as dumbfounded. Honestly, he was just as surprised as anyone at what came out of his mouth sometimes. 
“Stiles, uhh… meet Sparky’s…  I’m sorry. I mean Jacks’s dad, Derek Hale,” Martha introduced as Stiles's big brain tried to get back online. “Apparently, Jacks was stolen about a year ago. His dad’s been looking for him ever since. He tracked him down here all the way from New York. Crazy, right?” Martha laughed nervously as she looked between the two.
Stiles eyed Derek Hale for a long moment and already felt himself accepting this new disappointing reality. The guy looked like Sparky’s dad. They both had a certain wolfishness about them that was undeniable. Honestly, Derek Hale had to be the most dedicated dog dad in the world to have tracked his lost dog all the way across the continent. 
Stiles felt himself deflating. “I’m glad you guys are reunited. I’m sure Sparky - I mean Jacks is pumped to see you again.”
Derek fished his phone from his pocket and turned it so Stiles could see the screen saver, which was truthfully the most adorable picture of the two together and obviously happy. “After he was taken, it took me a while to track him down. I found out that a shelter in New York shipped him to the West Coast, thinking he’d have a better chance of being adopted, but they couldn’t tell me where he ended up. I started checking shelters in Washington and was working my way down the coast when I saw an ad for today’s event. Jacks picture was part of it.”
“I’m glad you found him,” Stiles offered again, unable to look at the guy as he said it even though he did mean it. He couldn’t even get that kind of dedication out of a boyfriend. This guy was like a superhero or something. “Cool, well I gotta go…” 
Derek opened his mouth to say something, but Jimmy from the back was calling for him. Stiles knew Jimmy was the one who typically got the adopted dogs ready and brought them out to greet their new owners. He needed to get out of there. Stiles didn’t think he could say goodbye to Sparky- well, Jacks, which was a much more suitable and dignified name, he supposed. 
Derek, with his man stubble and leather jacket, looked like a guy who would own a dog named Jacks. 
More proof that they fit together.
While Derek was distracted, Stiles slipped away, shoulders slumped as he started the long walk back to his jeep. About halfway there, a familiar bark froze him in his tracks. Stiles turned just in time to see a black pickup slowing down to a stop beside him. The passenger window was down, and Jacks's big head was sticking out of it. 
“Do you live around here?” Derek called from the driver's side as he leaned out of the way of Jack’s aggressively thumping tail. 
Jacks whined, and Stiles immediately reached out to soothe him, running a hand over his massive ears and scratching how he knew Jacks liked. This earned him a great big lick across his face in return. Stiles laughed, swatting playfully, but Jacks only pushed closer, beginning to lick Stiles in earnest.
“That’s amazing. The shelter told me about you visiting him. I didn’t believe them at first. Jacks has never taken to… well, anyone else really,” Derek spoke up again, amusement clear in his voice as Stiles tried to fend off all the affection being lavished on him. Jacks had never been quite this excited to see him either, but it was a very welcome shift after the heartbreak he’d been feeling a moment ago. 
At least Stiles knew Jacks would miss him too. “Yeah, me and him… we kind of bonded while he was waiting on you.” Stiles shrugged in reply taking a small step back and almost giving in again when Jacks whined in protest.
Derek glanced at Jacks, before reaching out and patting him on the back in a reassuring way. “They said he was pretty depressed before you came around. Wasn’t eating much or leaving his kennel,” Derek explained. Stiles hadn’t known that part, but he was glad he helped Jacks until Derek found him. It was at least some comfort he could take home with him.
“I should uh… get back to my jeep,” Stiles said, pointing his thumb in the direction he was walking. 
As much as he liked seeing Jacks he really wanted to get home and have a good cry in private. Not only was he losing Jacks, but Jacks owner happened to be an insanely hot guy right out of Stiles's fantasies and entirely out of his league. It just reminded Stiles of exactly how lonely he was these days. Loneliness and his last breakup had been the whole reason Stiles was on the shelter’s page looking at adoptable dogs in the first place. 
“It’s parked a little down the road. I need to call a tow,” Stiles felt the need to explain, hoping his ears weren’t as red as they probably were. It was a bit embarrassing, but the jeep had been his mom’s, and he only had a few more years as a lowly FBI intern before he could afford to get it fixed properly. Maybe he could get his pet deposit back. That would help pay for the tow truck he was going to need to call. 
 Derek leaned over to unlatch the door. “Hop in. I’ll drive you down there and take a look. I’m a mechanic.”
Stiles couldn’t help how his mouth fell open. Could this guy be any more perfect? The only thing that would be better was if he were - 
“And maybe you’ll let me and Jacks take you to dinner… you know, as a thank you for looking out for him.” Derek sent him a wolfish smile that had probably seduced the panties off of hundreds of college co-eds back in his day. Stiles wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he could now be bunched into that category. 
“Uhh yeah okay…” Because what else was he going to say. Jacks moved over a bit to give him room, and as soon as Stiles settled, he had a lap full of wolfdog. 
Derek threw his head back and laughed. “Doesn’t look like he’s going to be letting you leave so easily.”
Stiles cleared away the lump in his throat and buried his face in Jacks soft fur. “I don’t mind.”
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sterekbigbang · 2 months
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House of the Howling Wolves (111,607) by @rlnerdgirl Art by @renmackree For @sterekbigbang 2023-2024, Round 6 Rating: Explicit Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Tags: Derek POV, BAMF Derek, BAMF Stiles, magical Stiles, protective Derek, alive Laura, Alpha Laura, blood, violence, hurt/comfort, fairytale AU(?), blowjobs, erotic asphyxiation, idiots in lust, happy ending
Summary: When crown prince Derek Hale of the kingdom of Triskelle finds himself unexpectedly holding the life-debt of a Twillian fae, he and his sister see an opportunity to save their dying kingdom. Now, as Derek travels north into the Twill, he must put faith in his Twillian guide, Stiles, to keep him safe as they journey through a mystical land of magic and danger. As their journey continues, Derek finds himself drawn to his companion, and left struggling to consider what will become of them once debts are paid and the Kingdom of Triskelle stands strong once again. Never venture into the Twill, for in the heart of those lands you will find only magic and the strange. A place where bones shift and forms change, as man turns to wolf and the moon holds sway over minds and hearts led astray. Heed this warning, this solemn call, lest the Twillian magics you shall befall.
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sugareey-makes-stuff · 6 months
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Okay folks! This Beast has been kept under wraps since April, and now it's finally out for the world to see. Hooray! The original idea made for @sterekreversechallenges was a simple palette of blacks, greys and golds with some melty painty thing going on for our fav boys. When @wolfspurr snatched this piece right up, I was super excited because I adore her writing so much. Working with her was fun with squeeing and screaming, but that didn't come without whining and a whole roller coaster of other feels (because Stiles and Derek made us work to get this whole collab to be exactly the way we wanted it). The journey to make this particular Sterek story come to life was such a crazy one, and it was worth the endless hours of enthusiasm and labor of love we put in. And heyyy, I also got to make two more additional art pieces! So, if you want some good ol' college fun, humor, fluff, and angst with some spice, please give this story a read and some love!
Title: Molten (<- read on AO3) Rating: Explicit WC: 28k Tags: Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Fluff and Angst, Mutual Pining, Kidnapping, Magical Accidents, Accidental Bonding, Spark and College Student Stiles Stilinski, Pack Beta Derek Hale, Idiots in Love, Some Humor, Stiles Stilinski is a Mess, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Sharing a Bed, Meddling, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Frustration, Hand Jobs, Shower Sex, Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Creampie, Awkward Conversations, Kissing, Feelings Realization, POV Stiles Stilinski, Digital Art, Illustrations
Summary:
"Stiles, is that you?" He recognizes that voice. He doesn’t know why he’s hearing it here though, in whatever cold, dark cave he’s found himself in. The owner of that voice is supposed to be miles away, back home in Beacon Hills. Unless Stiles is the one that’s ended up further from home than he could possibly have predicted. "Derek?!"
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