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#setting: beacon hills
batcavescolony · 1 year
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I know Teen Wolf is just a show but it bugs me that Natalie Martin was so adamant on the pack getting good grades and keeping up with school but she never got Malia an IEP or in Special Education classes! She had to know they exist and I think a girl that hasn't been in school for 8years and has a hard time in classes would be able to apply. Yeah yeah it's just a show but still it would have helped Malia!
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domesticated-feral · 1 year
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It's raining. Like the weather that's constantly happening in the teen wolf. Lol.
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cyborgrhodey · 1 year
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so like did they ever tell isaac that allison came back or
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kitchenisking · 25 days
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March Fic Rec
back to back recs cuz I wasn't paying attention to the weeks fly by😅
Obsession by Rae666 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,399, sterek)
Derek gets hit by a witch's curse and is confined to his loft as his uncle searches for a cure and Isaac stands guard. But as the curse grows worse and Derek's obsession with a certain pale skinned person becomes increasingly intense, how long can the team keep Derek and Stiles apart, especially when Stiles decides to take matters into his own hands?
The Wolf by rororowyourboat - (Rating: G, Words: 3,901, sterek)
Stiles and Derek haven't seen each other in years, but after talking on the phone nonstop for months now, Derek is finally moving back to Beacon Hills. The day he's supposed to arrive, he stops responding to Stiles' texts, and then a blue-eyed wolf shows up on his porch steps. Obviously something has happened to Derek, and Stiles needs to help him out... right?
Tease by katrint - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4,852, sterek)
Stiles is used to Derek being all growly, claiming and rough when he gets jealous, but when something that usually would make Derek all the above happens, and Derek shows no interest in Stiles whatsoever, Stiles starts to worry.
Ulterior Motives by useyrwordsderek - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 11,082, sterek)
In which Stiles is warm for Derek’s form, Derek is repressed, and Erica is awesome. (Lydia is also awesome, but that goes without saying.) Author’s notes: Set after Season 2; mild spoilers for all of S1 and S2. Previously posted to LJ. My first Teen Wolf fic! Be gentle!
It feels like a perfect night (for breakfast at midnight) by princecharmingwinks - (Rating: G, Words: 1,068, sterek)
Stiles is floating on cloud nine. He is absolutely living his best life. It's a Saturday night, he's out with his friends and he's dancing like it's his birthday. Because it is! (Or it will be in 20 minutes, once midnight ticks around). And what better way to celebrate the respectful age of 22 than a night out?
The Hale Beast by secretfanboy - (Rating: Mature, Words: 17,707, sterek)
Stiles would rather be at home playing X-Box than attending the ceremony inaugurating the Wolf nation's sovereignty over the Argent kingdom, but he's the Sheriff's son so those are the breaks. What he doesn't expect is the feral werewolf Prince Derek AKA The Beast to take an interest in him.
He was alone with the Beast. His heart started pounding its way up into his throat. A burst of static came from his cell phone. "Scott! Oh my god! He's here! The Hale Beast is here with me and I'm alone and no one is here to witness when he kills me...to death!"
Treasure by Hedwig221b - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 71,231, sterek)
“I know you don’t trust me,” Derek grunted. When Stiles inhaled to retort, Derek caught his chin and pressed a finger against his lips, making the boy freeze in place, eyes impossibly wide. “Don’t argue. I expected it. Wolves don’t trust easily, too. I just wanted you to know that… I’m sorry. I was selfish and didn’t see what was in front of me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
It was a thought that grew in his mind, spread to his heart and took root there, reincorporating into a deep desire and a vital need. Derek will take care of him and his little pup, he’ll bring the hearts of his enemies and put them at the boy’s feet. He’ll court and he’ll conquer.
The Mending That You Need by torakowalski - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3,861, sterek)
“He’s not my boyfriend, Stiles. He’s a man from a club. I couldn’t call him, if I wanted to.”
Even Forbidden Fruits Get Picked by flitterflutterfly - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 18,658, sterek)
When Stiles’ best friend gets himself bitten by a rogue werewolf, Stiles convinces him to seek aide from the local pack. Stiles tags along, ready to help Scott despite the knowledge that he likely wouldn’t be welcome. After all, Doms rarely ever approved of Stiles and he thought the Hales would be no exception. So he was surprised to find that not only had the rogue seemed to develop some kind of creepy fascination with him, the young alpha wolf, Derek, seemed to want him as well.
Transformation by sffan - (Rating: T, Words: 1,885, sterek)
“Dude. You turned into a wolf. What the hell? When did that start being a thing?”
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theemporium · 1 year
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hey bestie, smut prompt 22 for stiles? 🙂
22. “can you feel what your doing to me”
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It was an incredibly stupid plan—but then again, when wasn’t it when it came to the pack of Beacon Hills?
You couldn’t exactly remember what had led you into this situation, or how you and Stiles got the short-end of the stick to be volunteered into it. But what you did remember was Derek rambling about hunters having a sixth sense for supernatural beings in close vicinity so—as the only two humans in the pack—you and Stiles were thrown in the deep end. 
And now the deep end meant hiding in a really small closet whilst some of the deadliest hunters stood in the room just before you. 
“Can you stop moving? They will hear you rustling.” 
“I can’t!” 
“Oh my god.” 
You were pressed against the door, using a small crack to watch the hunters in the room. You couldn’t really hear what they were saying, but the tables of weapons spread out in front of them was intimidating enough. 
“I’m serious, stop wiggling,” Stiles hissed from behind you, letting out a heavy sigh. 
“Stiles, I can’t,” you hissed back at him. “If you move the hanger that is poking me, maybe I’ll fucking stop.” 
There was a pause before the boy spoke. 
“That’s not a hanger.” 
Your body tensed for a few moments as the boy’s words ran through your head, taking you a few moments to really process his words before you felt your cheeks heating up. 
“Stiles—” 
“I can’t control it,” he grumbled from behind you, letting out a small groan when you tried to move away again, only to push your ass further against him. “Fuck, don’t do that. Can you feel what you're doing to me?” 
“I’m trying to help!” you whisper-yelled under your breath.
“That’s the opposite of helping,” Stiles groaned into your ear, biting down on his lip. His hands found your waist, gripping it tightly in hopes of making you stay still. “Just…stop.”
Your heart was thundering in your chest, your lungs feeling like they were on fire and the last thing you should be focusing on was Stiles’ dick pressing into your ass when your lives were quite literally in danger. 
And yet, it was your only focus. 
Maybe you could blame it on the adrenaline pumping through your body at the risk of getting caught. Maybe you could blame it on a temporary lapse of judgement. Maybe you could even blame it on the crush you had been harbouring for the boy for ages.
Or maybe, you wouldn’t really need a reason as you pushed your ass back into him, rolling your hips against the bulge in his jeans. 
“Shit,” Stiles hissed through clenched teeth and gripped your waist harder. “What are you doing?” 
“Shhh, I’m just trying to help,” you murmured as your arms wound behind your, fingers tangled in his hair as he leaned against your shoulder. “Just keep quiet, Stiles.” 
“Fuck,” he moaned against your shoulder as he began to grind his hip against your ass, something about the action so needy and desperate, and yet it set your whole body on fire. 
Your hands dropped to cover his, slowly guiding them up until they were cupping your tits over your shirts, a pathetic whine leaving the boy’s lips as he continued to rut against your ass. It didn’t take long for muffled curses to leave his lips as he finally came. 
“Shit, shit, shit,” he breathlessly chanted as you continued to circle your ass against him, even when he let out a small whine. “I-I can’t, it’s too much.” 
“Such a good boy, Stiles,” you whispered in the closet knowing you still had to find a way out before your luck ran out. “Such a good boy for me.” 
“Just for you,” he whispered, face nuzzled against the crook of your neck as he squeezed your tits, listening to the soft mewls you let out as you both desperately tried to keep your cover from being blown.
.
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soulofapatrick · 3 months
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Falling Into You - Stiles Stilinski x Female Reader 
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Summary: you and stiles finally give into your unknown crush on each other
Words: 2.6K
Warning: Heated makeout session; if you squint there's dry humping
Y/N’s POV
Living with Stiles has been far from boring. Ever since my dad was killed and my younger brother - Isaac - went to live with Derek, Sheriff Noah Stilinski graciously opened his home to me. That meant living with Stiles too, and let me tell you, it has been anything but dull. Stiles has this knack for turning even the most mundane day into a storytelling session filled with the antics he and Scott get up to. 
I’ve grown to love it here. The Stilinski house is like a second home, and the sheriff is like a second dad to me. He’s been incredibly supportive, especially during the tough times. And then there’s Stiles. He’s… well, he’s Stiles. Quirky, witty and always wearing that mischievous grin. 
Lately, though, something’s shifted. I’ve caught myself stealing glances at Stiles when he’s not looking. His passion for solving mysteries, his loyalty to his friends—there’s something undeniably endearing about him. Maybe it’s the way he cares for everyone around him, or the way he throws himself into every insane situation without hesitation. But it's more than that. There's a warmth in his laughter, a genuineness in his concern, that makes my heart flutter a bit faster. And as much as I try to ignore it, I can't deny that a crush has been slowly blossoming. 
Living under the same roof, it’s hard to keep these feelings under wraps. I find myself wanting to spend more time around him, hoping for moments where it’s just the two of us, away from the chaotic everyday that is Beacon Hills. Yet, I’m also terrified. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if it ruins our friendship or makes things awkward while living with him? 
Stiles is currently sat cross legged on my bed, looking so engrossed in whatever supernatural mystery he's delving into. His dedication is admirable, even if it means sacrificing proper posture for the sake of research. I can't help but steal glances at him every now and then, admiring the furrow in his brow as he concentrates. 
I wish I could tell him how I feel. But the fear of ruining what we currently have, the fear of changing the dynamic between us, it’s suffocating. So instead, I go back to focusing on my assignment, the words blurring on the page as my thought drift back to him. 
The room is quiet except for the clicking of keys and the occasional muttered comment from Stiles. As I sit at my desk, trying to concentrate on the assignment in front of me, my mind wandering again—this time an entirely different scenario and it’s one that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. 
I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to set aside the fear and uncertainty, to sit next to Stiles and lean in, closing the distance between us. What would it be like to press my lips against Stiles’? Would they be as soft as they look, as warm as his laugh? My heart races at the mere thought, a flurry of emotions dancing within me. 
I picture the moment vividly: closing the space between us, feeling the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, and the anticipation before our lips meet. I imagine his hands, tentative yet steady, finding their place on my skin, maybe on the curve of my cheek or the small of my back. How would it feel to have his touch ignite a thousand sparks, to feel the electricity between us? 
There’s a mix of longing and hesitation, the desire to experience that connection, yet the fear of disrupting the comfortable equilibrium we've found in our friendship. But in my mind's eye, it's a beautiful chaos—a leap into the unknown, a chance to explore something deeper, something that might exist beyond our late-night conversations and shared moments.
Before I can continue imagining me and Stiles the said boy breaks my thoughts, “Hey Y/N! Come here,” He speaks, excitement in his voice but his eyes never once leaving the screen. 
I force myself out of the reverie, blinking away the vivid daydreams as Stiles called out to me. His excitement is palpable, contagious even, and I push aside the rush of emotions to focus on the present. 
I rise from my chair, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nervousness as I make my way to where Stiles is seated. He’s still hunched over the laptop, his attention entirely captured by the screen. With a careful step, I settle on the bed behind him, leaning over him enough to rest my chin on his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s got him so intrigued. 
His warmth seeps through the fabric of his shirt, radiating against my chest, a sensation I try desperately to ignore. The scent that envelopes me—a blend of old books, faint traces of motor oil and a lingering hint of coffee—should be distracting, but it’s oddly comforting. It’s quintessentially Stiles, a unique combination that feels inexplicably familiar and reassuring. 
I glance at the screen, feigning interest in whatever supernatural phenomenon has grabbed his attention. But truthfully, my focus wavers between trying to understand what he’s showing me and the proximity between us. His presence feels magnetic, drawing me in, yet I fight the urge to let my thoughts drift into forbidden territory. 
“Look at this,” He exclaims, pointing to a section on the screen. His enthusiasm is infectious, and for a moment, I forget the inner turmoil, getting lost in his excitement. 
Stiles is engrossed in explaining something on the screen, his energy palpable. I try my best to keep up, nodding along as he talks, but the proximity between us amplifies every emotion within me. 
Suddenly, he turns his head, excitement lighting up his russet eyes as he tries to make a point. His words trail off mid-sentence, and in that suspended moment, our faces are unexpected close. I feel his breath, warm against my skin, a sensation that sends a shiver down my spine. 
As if in slow motion, I notice every tiny detail—the freckles scattered across his pale skin, the way his eyes dart down to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my gaze again. My breath catches in my throat, and I’m sure he can heart the erratic beat of my heart. There's a shift in the air, an unspoken tension that crackles between us. His cheeks flush with colour, a shade of red that matches the intensity of my own emotions. I can't tear my gaze away from him, from the way his eyes flicker between mine and the way his lips part, as if searching for words that elude him. 
For a moment, time seems suspended, our silent exchange speaking volumes. I feel a surge of courage and vulnerability intertwine within me, a silent plea for something more, a leap into the unknown. 
But just as quickly as the moment arrives, it slips away. Stiles blinks, breaking the trance, and clears his throat, shifting slightly away. "Um, sorry, got carried away there," he stammers, his voice a tad higher than usual.
The air feels charged with an awkward tension, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. I try to ease the discomfort by standing up, intending to head back to my desk and salvage what’s left of our usual camaraderie. But before I can even take a step, Stiles’ hand shoots out, wrapped around my wrist in a swift motion that catches me off guard. 
Caught off guard by the sudden proximity, I stumble and practically find myself in Stiles's lap. His warmth envelopes me, and for a moment, our heartbeats synchronise in a chaotic rhythm that seems to echo the unspoken emotions between us. 
Stiles’ eyes lock onto mine, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability swirling within their depths. His tongue darts out to wet his pretty pink lips, a nervous gesture that betrays the intensity of the moment. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, his hand finds the back of my neck, drawing me closer. 
In that heartbeat before our lips meet, the world around us seems to still. His touch sends a surge of electricity through me, igniting a fire that I didn’t know was simmering within. And then, finally, our lips touch in a kiss that feels both anticipated and inevitable. 
As our embrace intensifies, the laptop becomes a mere afterthought, pushed aside to make way for the burgeoning heat between us. Stiles's movements are deliberate, his hands finding my hips with a confident touch, guiding me to straddle his lap as our bodies mold together. 
The kiss deepens, the connection between us sparking a newfound intensity. Stiles’ hands, warm against my skin, slip under the fabric of my teeshirt, sending shivers cascading down my spine. His touch is electric, fingers tracing patterns along my hips, a gentle yet possessive hold that ignites a fire within me. I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, feeling the soft strands between my fingertips as I tilt his head back slightly, deepening the kiss. There’s a dominance in his action, a confidence that surprises me but also excites me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. 
His lips move with purpose, fervent and seeking, a silent demand for more as our breaths mingle in the shared space between us. Each movement, each touch, feels like an unspoken confession of desires long kept hidden. 
My heart races as I lean into him, relishing the sensation of his lips against mine, the way his body responds to my touch. And as I lose myself in the passion of the moment, it becomes clear that Stiles, despite his usual playful demeanour, possesses a commanding presence that takes my breath away. 
As the intensity of the moment heightens, Stiles’ touch remains both from and reassuring, his hands guiding me with a tenderness that contrasts his newfound dominance. With a gentle yet firm pressure, his long, nimble fingers press against my back, coaxing me to lower myself onto him. There’s an undeniable pull in his touch, drawing me closer until I’m lying atop him, our chests pressing together in a shared rhythm. Our breaths mingle in the small space between y=us, the heat of the moment making the air around us feel charged. 
His chest rises and falls with each breath, syncing with mine, creating an unspoken harmony. The sensation of our bodies pressed together sends jolt through me, an electric current that ignites every nerve ending. 
As I rest against him, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat against mine, a rush of emotions floods over me—desire mingled with a newfound intimacy, vulnerability meshed with a sense of comfort in this uncharted territory. 
Stiles's gaze holds a mixture of passion and tenderness, a silent understanding passing between us in the shared silence. His fingers trace gentle patterns along my back, a gesture that speaks volumes, conveying a reassurance amidst the fervour of the moment. His lips part as if to speak but instead, in a very Stiles fashion, a torrent of words spill out in a hurried stream. 
“I-I've wanted to do this for so long, and I'm sorry, I should've asked, I mean, I wanted to ask, but then this moment happened, and I just... I didn't want to ruin it, but I should’ve—" He babbles, the words tumbling out faster than I can comprehend. His apology mixes with an admission that he’s wanted this as much as I have, and amidst his rambling, I can’t help but laugh softly, finding the sudden flood of words endearing. 
Before his apologies and explanations can continue, I decide to silence him the best way I know how. With a gentle yet decisive motion, I cup his face in both hands, capturing his lips in a kiss that speaks volumes, stealing away his words and replacing them with the silent language of our shared desires. 
The kiss is deliberate interruption, a way to convey everything I’ve been feeling in a single moment. It’s a tender yet firm assertion, an assurance that words are unnecessary amidst the eloquence of our connection. 
As our lips meet, I feel a shift in the air, the nervous energy dissipating into something more serene. Stiles’ initial surprise melts into a reciprocated warmth, and soon, the kiss becomes a dance of shared affection and unspoken apologies. In that suspended moment, the kiss becomes a story of its own—a narrative of unspoken emotions conveyed through the gentle meeting of our lips. Stiles's initial surprise gives way to a newfound ease, his lips molding against mine with a familiarity that feels surprisingly natural yet exhilaratingly new.
His touch, tender yet assured, ignites a cascade of sensations. His hands explore, tracing the contours of my back, sending tingles racing along my skin. There’s a delicate balance in his touch, a mix of reverence and longing that speaks volumes about the dept of his emotions. 
As our kiss deepens, I’m enveloped in a whirlwind of emotions. Stiles’ lips against mine feel like a discovery—a blend of softness and fervour, an unspoken language that surpasses any verbal communication. Each movement of our lips is a revelation, a testament to the unspoken connection between us. His closeness has a gravitational pull, drawing me in and enveloping me in a sense of security and desire. In this moment, I feel cherished, desired, and seen in a way that goes beyond mere words. 
The intensity of our kiss, a universe of emotions contained within, is abruptly interrupted by the jarring ring of Stiles’ phone. Startled, we break apart, a shared groan escaping both of us as the moment fractures, replacing by the intrusion of reality. Stiles fumbles for his phone, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. With a sigh, he answers and puts it on speaker, revealing Scott’s urgent voice on the other end, asking if Stiles had found any leads. 
As Stiles responds to Scott’s inquiries, I take the opportunity to sit back up, adjusting my position so that I’m straddling his waist. The shift seems to catch Stiles of guard, his breath hitching slightly, and I can feel the bulge pressing against my ass. I watch as Stiles bites his lip, a subtle attempt to suppress any involuntary sounds, his focus divided between the phone call and me, shifting on his lap. His eyes meet mine for a fleeting moment, and I can see a hint of frustration at the interruption, mixed with a smouldering intensity that sends a thrill through me. 
Leaning closer, I offer an apologetic smile, silently acknowledging the disruption but unable to resist teasing him but grinding my hips against his, pretending to get more comfortable on his lap. I notice the way his breath catches again and his hands dart for my hips unsure if they want to stop my hips or help me roll them against that growing bulge. 
“Sh-shit,” A moan escapes him and Scott falls silent as Stiles’ cheeks bloom a pretty shade of red, “Fuck, I gotta go, talk later.” And with that Stiles is hanging up, practically throwing his phone on the floor and in one quick moment has us flipped over so I’m laying underneath him. 
“Hi.” I breathe quietly, an ache between my legs. 
“Don’t you ‘hi’ me you little tease.” He grumbles, leaning on his elbows either side of my head. 
“What you gonna do about it?” I challenge, loving the gleam in his eyes. 
Stiles chuckles softly, his eyes dancing with mischief as he leans closer, his breath brushing against my lips. 
"Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you've started."
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Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023
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miguelschamp · 2 months
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paper rings
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pairing: stiles stilinski x fem!reader
summary: stiles can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you
warnings: none
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it was your 11th birthday and you were beyond excited.
your mom had been planning your party for weeks. making sure the theme you wanted was going to be perfect. she invited all of your friends from school, including your two best friends, scott and stiles.
you met scott and stiles in 2nd grade. you tripped and fell onto the wood chips as you were running toward the swing set. as tears blurred your eyes, you heard rapid footsteps coming toward you.
two boys bent down beside you and asked if you were okay before scott ran off to find a teacher. stiles stayed by your side reassuring you that you were okay. and from then on, you guys were friends.
you came down the steps in a pink dress covered in flowers. your hair done and jewelry littering your arms and hands. your mom smiled as you came down the steps.
“scott and stiles are here.” you say running toward the door
“how do you know ?”
“i saw them through my window.” you say swinging the door open. a smile spreads across your features as your friends walk toward the door. you run out towards them as your mom walks out onto the porch.
“happy birthday !” they say as you run toward them. you giggle as the three of you collide in a huge hug.
“thank you.” you smile pulling away. “today’s gonna be so much fun.”
“definitely.” scott says
“happy birthday, sweetie.” melissa says walking up behind the boys
“thank you, ms. melissa.” you beam. you feel your mom place her hand on your shoulder
“why don’t you guys go out back and play until everyone gets here ?” she says
you squeal as you and the boys run around to the backyard.
~
it was darker out now and your party in full swing. you’ve opened presents and had cake. now, everyone was mingling around until they decided to leave.
you had been up since early that morning and you were exhausted. you were running around all day and playing with your friends. ensuring that everyone felt included and was having fun.
now, you sat on a bench that you had in your backyard. everyone was running around in front of you and parents were laughing and enjoying each other’s company.
you look to your left as someone walks toward you. you smile brightly, “hi, stiles.”
“hey.” he says sitting beside you, “are you okay ?”
“yeah.” you nod, “i’m just really tired. i was awake really early this morning.”
“oh, well you had fun today, right ?”
“of course.” you smile before you lay your head on his shoulder. he lays his head on top of yours as you sigh, “today was the best day ever.”
stiles smiles before taking a deep breath, “y/n/n, i have another present for you.”
you sit up, “really ? you didn’t have to. the teddy bear was more than enough.”
when opening your first gift from stiles, you couldn’t believe he had gotten you a bear you had been talking about for months now. your mom had been looking all over for it and couldn’t find it. but, of course, stiles did.
“well, i just wanted to get you something extra for being my best friend.” he says. you smile softly as he digs in his pocket.
he holds his hand out to you. in it was a ring made out of paper. the “diamond” was colored in to imitate the shininess.
“i made it because my dad wouldn’t let me get an actual ring.” he says as you take it from him.
“i love it.” you laugh. it truly was amazing considering an 11 year old boy made it. as you slid it onto your ring finger you held your hand out to him.
“perfect.” he says, “maybe one day i can get you an actual one.”
you smile at him before wrapping your arms around his neck. he quickly hugs you back with a small smile on his face.
•••
you and stiles laid back against his jeep on the outlook of beacon hills. the sun was setting and stiles always made it his mission for the two of you to catch it since you once brought up how you loved them.
it was something that he’s tried doing since the two of you started dating. you guys had been dating for 3 years now. since freshman year of high school and the two of you couldn’t be happier.
your 4 year anniversary was coming up and stiles had something up his sleeve. the ring he gave you for your 11th birthday held significance for the both of you. he remembers you actually wearing and taking care of the ring for a couple of weeks before the “band” ripped.
you were devastated and thought stiles would’ve hated you for ruining his gift. safe to say he wasn’t and was actually shocked at how long the ring lasted.
so, you kept the ring in the box with the other jewelry you were collecting. it now sat in the back of your phone case. it was squished now, but it didn’t matter. it was your favorite.
you watch as he sits up before looking over at you. “yes ?” you say in a sing song voice
“i have a present for you.” he says. you furrow your brows as you sit up.
“okay.” you ask, “wait, our anniversary isn’t for a few months.”
“i know, but i couldn’t keep it from you anymore.” he chuckles as you smile, “y/n, you are the most amazing person i’ve ever met. you mean the world to me and going into senior year, i just want you to know how much i love you. i don’t think scott and i would’ve made it this far with our heads still on our shoulders without you. especially me.”
you laugh as tears behind to gather in your eyes. he lays his hand on your thigh, “you remember the ring i gave you for your birthday.”
you nod as you pull out your phone turning it over. showing off the old gift. “yeah.”
he says nothing as he digs in his pocket pulling out a box. you place your phone down as he holds it out to you. “stiles.”
“open it.” he says as you take it. he watches in anticipation as you open the box. you gasp as you see a shiny ring with a small diamond in the center.
“stiles.” you say softly. you turn to him as he smiles.
“that’s what the paper ring was supposed to look like.” he jokes
he gently takes the box from you. he takes the ring out before grabbing your left hand. he slides the ring onto your ring finger.
“it’s a promise ring.” he says as he rubs your knuckles, “for now until i can replace it.”
you look up at him as a tear falls onto your cheek. he takes no time in wiping it away before cupping your cheek.
“i love you so much.” you say as you sniffle
“i love you more.” he says before leaning in and kissing you gently.
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s3thwrit3sstuff · 8 months
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❝ Burn for you ❞
post-s6!Stiles Stilinski x werewolf!male!reader | nsfw, smut | sub.bttm. reader (AMAB) | not proofread | wc: 4k
warnings: omegaverse dynamics (r!), praise kink, biting, scratching, spanking
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req: can I ask for a stiles fic, like reader(m) is a werewolf n went into heat and the only person he actually trusts from the pack is stiles so he just bursts into his room in the middle of the night all hot and sweaty and stiles is just dumbfounded until he realised what was wrong and he helps him all night 😋😋 anyway and like end it with some cuddles n stuff if you can, oh and like a shit ton of praise just like mass amounts, plus like biting, scratching maybe a few smacks here and there and that's it! (bottom amab reader pls)
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"This is insane," by all accounts he was right. Stupid, cunning, frantic and witty Stiles Stilinski was right. This was insane. "Stiles," but here you are — countering his factual statement. "Stiles, please..." The hands in his hair stop and he looks at the state you're in. Actually looks. His eyes take in the wildness in your eyes that, once upon a time, would've made him flinch as they glow in the dim lighting of his dorm room. Yet at this moment, they're anything but frightening, instead they're desperate.
There's a startling realization that the werewolf before him was desperate for him that makes Stiles choke on his own spit. The hands in his hair travel down to cover his mouth but you know it's still in that annoyingly slacked-jaw pose. Why were you sneaking into his dormitory room through a window!? "Stiles!" You land on your feet and now Stiles has a werewolf in his dormitory room. The carpet silences the thudding your shoes make as you reach for the collar of his shirt. It's new. Sheriff Stilinski probably bought some new clothes for Stiles for Christmas —that's not the point. The point is, his shirt is new and you're stretching the round collar wider at the front, claws teasing the fabric as you grit your teeth together to stop your fangs from making an appearance. "Hey, easy, easy!" His palms rest on your face. Stiles squeezes your cheeks together when he feels fur attempting to sprout. He shushes, twisting his head on a swivel around his tiny room. His roommate said he'd be out but the lights from underneath Stiles door is on and he sees shadows moving. He can handle a werewolf in distress but handling that whilst keeping the secret of the supernatural away is a juggling act he'd rather not attempt. He's had his fill from his high school days. He'd rather not repeat it again in college.
What were you even doing here? Last time you two called you'd been in Beacon Hills, California helping his father out with some rogue werewolves. What the hell were you doing in Quantico, Virginia!? "(Y/N)," his eyes are set in a determined squint. Yours are furrowed, eyebrows meeting in the centre that makes a slideshow of memories appear behind Stiles eyes with every blink. The second time he says your name it's softer. As if he recalls who you are and you squeeze your eyes shut at the warmth in his voice. Shoulders sagging and grip loosening, you lean forward to bury your face in the crook of Stile's neck.
Everything is fuzzy. There's someone else nearby — two someone's, to be exact, but everything beyond Stiles' door is irrelevant.
Everything beyond Stiles is irrelevant.
Stiles wraps his arms around you. You swear you can feel every scar on his palms and finger pads despite the jacket you wore. It's mindboggling how amplified Stiles is right now.
He eyes the shadows from his door. They pause and Stiles grip on you tightens. It elicits a gasp from you as you clutch the front of his shirt again. Stiles ignores how hot his ears feel as your lips brush against his skin and how he can feel the tips of your teeth (not fangs, thankfully) whisper along the thickest junction between his neck and shoulder — or he tries to. His pulse quickens and you're so close too him you can feel it, see it, hear it. Your hands are flat against his sternum. With your eyes aglow you tilt your head down to spread your fingers across his chest. "Shh, shh, my roommates asleep," Stiles would thank Tom (his roommate) for being considerate but a few giggles escape the girl he's brought over and Tom is pushed against the door. The sound is decidedly too loud for an already sensitive werewolf so you lips curl in distaste. Your growl only cut short by Stiles hands smacking itself over your mouth so hard your head tilts back.
"Stiles — !" "(Y/N)" his whisper is sharper than you're used to. The frown etched onto his face is so familiar but so...grown. It had only been a year since graduation. Since that mess with the Wild Hunt and everything in between. Stiles looks so adult now. Oh, there's still mischief written all over his face but everything that was soft-edged was sharper and there was this hint of a stubble along his jaw and chin. The bags under his eyes were probably because of wild nights roaming Beacon Hills woods for dead bodies but it seemed college exacerbated it tenfold. It reminded you of the Nogitsune when it had Stiles but he wasn't pale and he was still familiar. You're staring. You realize that you are but Stiles just looks so handsome and the memories are flooding in faster than you can stop them. His hands smell like energy drinks, spilled pen ink, dusty cold-case files Stiles definitely had no authority to be snooping through and home. Stiles flinches, chest concaving away from you when you whimper and tug at his shirt.
No, not whimper.
Moan.
"...Your roommate has company too," Tom's girl whispers barely reach his ears through the door. Their shadows stumble away with a few 'hushed' giggles but Stiles only tears his eyes away when he hears his roommates door shut.
"What the - Are you hurt? (Y/N), it's 2 am — You-You're supposed to be in Beacon Hills!"
Why is he so far away from you? He's pacing again, combing through his hair again and he's rambling again.
"Stiles," he doesn't pause as you call for him. He's too frantic to see the way you're panting or the way your cheeks are heated. "You know you're supposed to call me first when things happen!" He gasps and spins to looks at you. "Is it an emergency? Does Peter have another kid running around or something? Hunters? Are you —"
You're breathing too hard. He inches closer again. It feels like he's teasing you. Moving to-and-fro like a sly fox teasing a wolf.
"You're hurt?" "Stiles," the whine is high in your throat. A keening almost. It makes Stiles hands hover over your shoulders when he'd been gripping you so tightly minutes before. "Stiles, I need you"
"Need? Need...Need me to - For what exactly?" Your jacket is shrugged off. He can see the way your shirt is sticking to your skin. To his relief he sees no wounds, no blackened veins bulging and spreading across your skin because a hunter gave you a dose of Wolfsbane poisoning. It leaves him more confused. More flustered. "Somethings happening to me," you take steps forward. Stiles lets you. "What's wrong, (Y/N)?" He wants to turn on the lights in his room. Moonlight looks wonderful on you and the table lamp is less headache inducing to work in during these times but he's frozen with concern.
What if you were cut by a tiny blade covered in Yellow Wolfsbane? Or some other type of poison — a Kanima maybe? No, you weren't paralyzed. You weren't dying, if you were dying he' be sure you'd be more panicky but goddammit what if you were and you didn't realize it!?
"Derek...Derek said it happens to werewolves wuh-when we've...matured," Stiles wasn't there to witness the chaos the pack went through with the other wolves. Blissfully unaware of the embarrassment that lasted for days and it wasn't as though Scott was going to tell Stiles about the time he was so painfully horny after his 18th birthday that Malia and him effectively traumatized Melissa. "Matured...?" "Stiles, my birthday just passed," you don't want to say it. It kills you every time you even think about it so why would you want to say it out loud? "Happy...birthday?" But Stiles wasn't catching on. Derek had advised you about holing up somewhere. Said something about finding someone to partner up with. Preferably a pack mate and not some stranger in a bar. The notion was far too embarrassing. Scott was like an older brother to you and he was dating Malia who you think would probably not mind if you decided to spend your heat with the two of them. You minded though. So, no. Derek was a definitive no. Too much angst, too broody and too old for you and Lydia didn't deserve to be subjected to anymore werewolf biology nonsense then she already had. There were more pack mates but they were all a no but, Stiles...? He made you feel so safe. His brilliance was blinding (sarcastic quips included) and his valor in deathly situations were enough to make you swoon. Such kindness despite the torments life had thrown his way. Even now, he's showing it. He's holding you, tender and sweet, and his eyes are scanning you for injuries. "Stiles..." Your eyes meet. His brow furrows and his hand is cupping your cheek again. "Stiles, I'm...I'm in heat." His mouth opens then closes then opens before closing. Stiles is doing that thing where his brows are moving on their own and his eyes are blinking rapidly which means he's thinking. "Whaaat does that mean? Just - just as a clarification ya' know" You groan. The pants you're wearing has been achingly tight and you can't stand it anymore. "Dammit, Stiles! I need you to fuck me! I'm in heat, I feel - I feel like my skin is on fire and I - I just, fuck, please, Stiles, please" There's tears in your eyes. Embarrassment be damned, it's too much. It felt like your senses were fucking with you, it's been like this for days, symptoms of oversensitivity steadily raising until it reached its boiling point that caused you to drive all the way to here. But all of it washes away when Stiles is holding you. All your focus is on him and it relieves you of so much pain why the fuck isn't he holding you now? "Please, I need you, I need you so badly."
Stiles catches you when you trip over your own feet, faceplanting into his chest where he can feel your open-mouthed breathing. Your hands cling to his shoulders, his wrap themselves around your middle as you cry. "It hurts, Stiles. I can't, I can't think I just — Mmf, you smell so fuckin' good," your gaze lifts up and Stiles groans into your mouth when you surge forward to kiss him. It's a shitty kiss. Sloppy, messy, and there's a clear lack of coordination but fuck it was hot. His tongue brushing against yours along with his lips.
You feel the dry patches he has — clearly college has triumphed his basic needs so you fix it by wetting his lips with your tongue. His grip tightens as you push him back, back and back until the back of his knees knock onto his bed. He falls. You fall too. It's not the first time he's had a werewolf over him but it is the first time he's had a werewolf in heat on top of him. He prefers this compared to the other instances. The window of his room, where moonlight floods in, cast you in this blue hue. It contrasts with the warm hued light of his desk and the colours look so fucking good on your skin. Your lashes are dark with tears. Stiles is certain he's tasted a few of them while kissing you. He reaches up and wipes the evidence of their path away. You turn your nose into his palm like a puppy and Stile's plaid patterned pajama pants feels a little tight. A tear slips and Stiles uses both hands to hold you. Those pretty eyes flutter open and Stiles gulps. You were (Y/N) (L/N), a longtime friend. One of the first guys that made him realize he was bisexual. A cherished friend, someone he could imagine one day meeting up for drinks even after decades have passed. Here you were, on his lap. "Why, why me...?" It was a fair inquiry. He lived miles away and he hadn't been available as of late too. You? You were a looker. So handsome and kind it made Stiles feel guilty every time he jerked off and your face appeared in his thoughts. You could have anyone you wanted. If the werewolf thing was stopping you from getting with anyone...well, it wasn't as if there were a shortage of werewolves in Beacon Hills. The sounds of your breathing muffles the beat of silence. Then, you're leaning down and Stiles places a hand on your chest to stop you. "You...You don't want me?" He feels your muscles tensing. Ready to dart if he nods but he doesn't. "I...I really want you, (Y/N)" You lean again and again he stops you. "Stiles, please —" "Why me, (Y/N)?" He knows you're thinking. You have this tell on your face when you do and since you're just inches away from him he'd be blind not to see it. "Because I...I trust you, Stiles. Muh...More than anyone else. I don't just need you, Stiles, I...I want you" It's his turn to talk but he's quiet. You're whimpering again, hips twitching as you try so very hard not to act on impulse despite the way your body is on fire. There was this annoyingly loud voice in your head just chanting Stiles name and it's killing you that he is so, so, close but not fucking you. When Stiles kisses you it takes you aback, teeth clacking and all but neither of you care. He pushes himself up onto his elbows and he's gripping the back of your neck as he all but devours you. Your hands slide up his shirt. He flinches, pulling away from the kiss and squeezing your neck. "I bruise easily," you're confused. He motions to your hand with his eyes and your eyes widen when you see your claws fully extended. "Shit, Stiles, I'm sorry —" He cuts you off with his mouth. Your eyes are rolling back and he swallows every pathetic noise as he grabs your hips, ass, then your thighs. The yelp you let out when he twists you surprises you both. He's between your legs now, above you and grinning boyishly. "That's — That's new," he nods before diving in to mottle your neck. Your fingers are curled into fists as you arch your back into him. "Learned some self-defense moves, came in handy, huh?" Your laughter dies when you feel Stiles teeth playfully bite into your flesh. "I mean, it works against werewolves" Both of you glance at the wall behind you when you hear repetitive thuds, followed by a squeal of pleasure. Stiles wants you to scream on his dick like that too. You gasp, whispering out his name when Stiles undoes the annoying obstacles that is your pants. Your boxers have a wet patch on them and you nearly kick Stiles off when he presses a kiss on it. He's hastily tugging your pants away from your legs but you're not cold at all. Everywhere he touches you feels like he's setting you on fire.
But it's good. Not like "before Stiles", not like "without Stiles" burning that makes you feverish and turns your skin unbearably lonely. Stiles touches spreads this delicious burn across your skin. Your shirt is next. Stiles doesn't help you with, just watches as you take it off and toss it to the side. He's over you again, kissing you again and you're so overwhelmed you can't help the noises you're making. His fingers ghost along your navel but you've no time for foreplay. You grab his wrist and guide it down to your crotch, bucking your hips up from his ghost-like touches. "Fuck, you're pent-up," You're nodding in agreement, balls tightening as he finally, finally, slips a hand into your underwear. Your torso twists to the side, moaning like a whore as he holds your cock in his hands. "Really pent-up" Stiles jerks his wrist and you're biting your hand to keep the noises down. "Don't, not like they're holding back" Stiles reminds as the headboard banging grew more incessant. He pulls your hand away, pinning it down as he watches your face. His fingers are so good, palm warm and your precum is excessively leaking down. Probably a side-effect of the whole "in heat" thing. His thumb digs into your slit and he's groaning at your wanton moans. Curious, he slides his hand down. "Stiles," you feel him touch your balls but he slips further down to your perineum then to your twitching entrance. His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. "You're wet" Stiles astute observation makes you dig your heels into the mattress. "You're wet"
"Stiles!" You can't handle this. You need him inside you not have a QNA session. "You've fought werewolves, a Kanima, hunters, the Wild Hunt, the Nogitsune, fuck — You survived holding Derek Hale up in a pool full of water while he was paralyzed for hours, stranger things have happened than my ass being self-lubricating!" You spread your legs, holding your thigh open as you try to catch your breath. He watches, entranced, as your fingers slip into yourself. It slides in with ease and familiarity. You're pumping one finger then two and then three. The way your rim stretches and clenches — Stiles sees it all. Stiles towers over the foot of his bed, over you, and you're relieved as you spot his hands replacing yours. His fingers are longer than yours and it has you melting as he pumps into you. "Shit, you're so warm" "All for you, baby, just for you," his ears are burning again. You look so blissed out but Stiles knows this isn't what you want. His shirt is the first to go and after stepping out from the puddle of checkered patterns Stiles is naked too. His cock is just as pretty as he is. There's moles on it, veins decorating the underside of it. It's long, more girthy near the base. "You manscape...?" You ask. "Shut up," Stiles replies. Stiles splits your legs apart, they're cushioned on the top of his thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck. The tip of his nose bumps into yours, lips catching yours again. He only pulls away when you feels his head catch on your rim. Stiles watches your face as the pressure gives and he's inside of you. He's biting his lower lip, wanting to only hear you (Tom isn't helping but that's not in his control). "Oh fuuuck, Stiles, Stiles your — " Stiles nods, pulling his hips away a bit before inching more inside. It has you whining. The delicious drag of his dick makes you clench and he hisses. "You feel so fucking good," he whispers against your Adam's apple, grinning as it bobs when you gulp thickly. Your claws are out again but he's electing to ignore it as it leaves kitten scratches across his shoulders. "God, (Y/N), you're so tight, so warm — Jesus fucking Christ, I —"
His words are making you squirm. It feels like an eternity but once he's fully sheathed inside of you it feels like all those days of overstimulation hell was worth it. The both of you moan and Stiles relishes in your velvety walls as they welcome him. "Like you were made for me," You whimper out his name. He notices your eyes are wet with tears and so he braces himself on his elbows, pushing you further up his bed. The jostling makes his dick pump into you and you mewl sweetly. "Don't have to cry, pretty boy, I've got you," he cradles the back of your head and places his forehead on yours. "Stiles..." Your eyes widen as he thrusts into you. He's watching closely. Your face scrunched up in ecstasy as he moves in and out of you. "You're so beautiful, fuck, (Y/N)" He hisses again when you clamp down at him. Only looking away to see your cock twitching in a tell-tale sign of an oncoming orgasm. Stiles chuckles as he grips at the base making you groan, shaking your head. "Hey, shh, relax, I'm helping you out. I'm not an asshole," he does that thing with his wrist again and your back arches. You see white and he slows his thrusts down, his back stinging but it's not the worst thing he's been through.
Stiles kisses down your throat and chest. He rubs soothing circles in your hips but he's still so painfully hard inside of you. The very feeling has your cock filling up again. He wraps his lips around your nipple, twirling his tongue around it and letting his teeth catch it as he pulls away. The entire thing has you shuddering. Stiles grabs a handful of your ass then maneuvers you onto your stomach, slipping out of you smoothly before positioning himself behind you. "FBI training?" You pant out as you look at him from over your shoulder. It makes Stiles laugh. "No, uh, just good ole' experience and porn" You roll your eyes at him and he grunts as he grips your hips. "Oh, I'll give you a reason to roll those pretty eyes," His pulls almost all the way out then slides back home. You moan out his name, clutching onto his bedsheets so hard there's a distinctive ripping sound. None of that matters though. The position you're in makes Stiles go in so deep it feels like you're in heaven. Your back is bowed and your face is in the sheets. Stiles sucks his teeth as he watches the way your ass ripples and bounces with every thrust in. You're writhing on the bed, moaning out his name as he plows into you. Stiles can't help himself. He lifts his hand and you squeal at the impact of his hand against you ass. "That feel good?" With the way you're backing up on him, he assumes that means yes. He squeezes your ass in his hands, watching the flesh blush because of his hands. Every spank makes you tighten around him and he groans as he soothes the stinging with his kneading hands. "So good for me, fuck, (Y/N), that's it just — Ah shit, shit, shit, your ass feels so good" Your cock is hanging heavy between your legs. Stiles grip on your hips is almost bruising. Your sweat slicked skin under moonlight has Stiles approaching his orgasm quicker than he anticipated. "I'm going to — " "Yes, yes, yes! Inside me, inside me, Stiles"
His thrusts become more and more erratic and you feel your second orgasm coming at you like a freight train. He's so beautifully loud the closer and closer he gets to his orgasm, you're whimpering as he ruts into you. His hands slide up your hips and he curls his arms around your shoulders to pull you up. Your back flushed against his chest. Stiles kisses you, messy and hot, and you only pull away to moan out his name as you come all over the bed sheets. He's not far behind, he fills the inside of your ass with thick ropes of cum and every involuntary twitch of his hips makes you let out whiny moans. His thighs twitch but Stiles makes sure you don't fall in your own cum. He lays you down next to it, slipping out of you with a groan before he bunches up his blanket to toss it to the pile of dirty laundry. You cling the second he lays next to you and he does not object. He pulls you closer, catching his breath as he kisses the top of your head. "That felt good?" You nod, asking him the same question with a scratchy voice. "Fuck yeah it did, holy shit," You grin as you grasp at his chin to give him a rewarding peck. "You're so...You're so hot, you know that?" "Stiles," you bashfully glance away (an odd time to be bashful but that can't be helped) and Stiles squeezes you closer. "I'm serious! I'm not saying it because of the post-sex glow or whatever — which, by the way, you are glowing" Your guffaw, hiding your face with your hands as he continues look oh-so-proud of himself. "I slept with (Y/N), I spanked his ass — He wanted me" "You're talking to yourself," you murmur, ear twitching as you hear Tom and his girl also coming down from their romp. How nice. Orgasms for all it seems. "And it's wants not wanted" He feels something twitch against his hip. Stiles peeks down and laughs in disbelief. "I still want you, Stiles..." Your eyes glow again. The way you're nosing his neck makes his dick raise to attention. "Stiles," you call. "I've got you, (Y/N)," he answers.
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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 2 months
Note
Do you know any fics similar to The Mating Privilege or I Don’t Like the Way She’s Looking at You? Just some stories where Derek isn’t the *best* mate/bf/husband etc or they have to pretend to not be together and ends up with stiles feeling neglected or ignored.
I’ve also read “how I long for yesterday” and “worth it” for those that want something similar but not quite what I’m looking for!
First of all. "How I Long for Yesterday" is my fic. So this made my day.
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How I Long For Yesterday by sweetbutterbliss
(1/1 I 6,017 I Mature I Sterek)
Stiles blinks, his throat going dry, and he moves his thumb without thinking - liking the post. He feels a surge of petty satisfaction. At least the fucker will know he knows now. He stands up, his body feeling too heavy, and he blows out the already guttering candles. He lets out a sob of frustration when the last one won’t fucking blow out. But he sucks it back in and bites down on his tongue, using his thumb and forefinger instead. He throws himself into their empty bed without undressing. He lies there repeating the words ‘Derek blew me off for Isaac’ over and over. He tells himself to shut up while rearranging his pillow violently, but he goes to sleep with the refrain continuing its painful loop.
Worth It by dragneels
(1/1 I 1,670 I General I Sterek)
He hadn’t thought even for a second, instincts roaring, and jumped in front of Derek, taking the blow. And then he got lost in the darkness. also known as the "stiles telling derek that he's worth everything" fic no one asked for
***
As the seconds tick by by Halevetica
(1/1 I 3,972 I Not Rated)
When Derek picks up a new contract, he starts showing up late and missing important dates making Stiles feel unimportant. Derek is sure the contract is worth it, but Stiles doesn't understand why.
I'm Torn Do I Stay Do I Go by Adaline_Stilinski
(2/2 I 6,963 I General)
Derek had been focusing on making alliances with other packs around Beacon Hills to protect his pack but in doing so he started to neglect Stiles and there relationship. Stiles get's sick of it and decided to leave for some time apart is it going to help be like the stories Stiles reads and write about how distance makes love grow or will they both realise that there better apart. Will tragedy bring them together
Aberration by JackalPinesOfHouseEvergreen
(11/? I 29,415 I Teen)
Derek is a hot-shot lawyer who is very focused on his work. Stiles is his loving husband who does his best to fit into Derek's high-class family. He's hit some major roadblocks though. He feels neglected and unloved, and worse when Derek ditches him at his own family's parties which leave him humiliated as he tries to appear like their marriage isn't failing.
As an old member comes during some important werewolf ceremony to stir the pot, Derek's relationship with his family and Stiles is tested more than ever. Derek's world has been rocked and turned upside down.
And Stiles? Stiles is trying to find out who he is in the absence of the one he loves. As much as he believes in Derek and in their relationship, Stiles needs to find his self-worth that got lost along the way. Remember the fire he had inside of him as he got in the face of those that looked down at him, the fierceness of his intelligence that made others fear and respect him. Remember how fun life was...
Derek and Stiles drift a bit as Derek realizes he has to woo Stiles again, because he will not risk losing the love of his life. Not again.
The Mating Privilege by Kikileduc
(12/12 I 35,380 I Mature)
Stiles and Derek have been happily mated. The pack is doing well, but in hopes of creating alliances for it to do better, Derek accepts a neighboring pack's request to allow two wolves to join the Hale-McCall pack for a full moon cycle. They hope to form a blood-tie, or at least a long term friendship between the two packs. The issue is Kohona, the tribal leader's daughter, has her eyes set on an unavailable alpha wolf. This could have drastic consequences for their young emissary, however...
Til We Ain't Strangers Anymore by WriteByNight
(7/7 I 35,994 I Explicit)
Stiles should've expected Derek to suddenly disappear since the werewolf was in the habit of taking off without notice. However, Derek always showed up when they needed him.
As the weeks pass by, Stiles is no longer confused and a little hurt. What started as heartache begins to get worse the longer Stiles goes without seeing Derek. Eventually, his body begins to shut down and his only hope seems to be Derek...but nobody can find him.
There's no cure for a broken heart. Except, maybe, the cause for the broken heart himself.
- - -
Or the one where Derek takes off without warning and Stiles finds out he could be Derek's mate and the distance between Derek and Stiles, along with Derek's refusal to develop the bond, is slowly killing Stiles. Without Derek, Stiles will die, but no one knows where he is or how to contact him. And Stiles is barely keeping it together.
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ateotd-izzy · 10 months
Text
ceilings | stiles stilinski x fem!reader
PART ONE | part two
summary: in an attempt to bring stiles back from the ghost riders, lydia, scott and malia try to help y/n to search her memories and remember him completely.
warnings: set during 6a, kissing, possibly swearing? idk how i feel about this tbh
taglist: @brvceyamada
ceilings, plaster
“okay, y/n. imagine you’re in your bedroom.” lydia’s voice calmly echoed through the room. “visualize yourself in your bedroom.”
you looked around. your bed, your shelves, your desk, it was your bedroom.
“can you see it?” lydia asked and you nodded. “okay, good. can you see your shelf? the one with all your movies?”
you took a few steps over to the bookshelf, dvds filling each individual shelf and only a few books lay around.
“yes.”
“y/n, imagine each dvd is a memory of stiles. every movie is a different memory.” lydia spoke. “you need to find the correct memory. the one that’ll bring him back.”
you pulled the first dvd off the shelf and opened it, putting the disk into your player.
can’t you just make it move faster?
“what the hell?” you wiped your cheek with your hand as the boy in front of you laughed. “what the hell was that?”
he shrugged, still laughing.
you were in your kitchen with stiles, the afternoon sun spilling through the window as you went through the cupboards.
“seriously, babe, what was that?”
“it was just water.” he chuckled, dipping his fingers into the glass beside him and flicking it at you. “don’t need to worry.”
“you’re such a dick.” you rolled your eyes, fighting the smile that grew on your face as he slowly made his way over to you.
“you love me.”
“mhm.”
“go on. say it.” stiles whispered into your ear, his arms wrapping around your body from behind and his chin resting on your shoulder. “you know it’s true.”
“fine.” you spun around so you were still facing him in your arms. “i love you, stilinski.”
he smiled and leaned in, pecking your lips.
“i love you, too.”
lovely to be sitting here with you
“can you see him? can you remember him?” lydia asked.
“it was just water.” you mumbled. scott and malia exchanged a confused look behind lydia’s back.
“y/n, you need to find a stronger memory. keep looking.”
you’re kinda cute, but it’s
you ran your hand along the different dvds before stopping on one.
you pulled it out and glanced at the cover. it was blank.
they were all blank, so you knew it would be a hard search to find the right memory.
“find a stronger memory, y/n.” lydia’s voice guided you and you placed the new disk into the dvd player.
raining harder
“you guys won!” you cheered, grabbing both of stiles’ hands in yours.
you were standing on the lacrosse field at the high school, and he was wearing a beacon hills jersey.
he was number 24.
it must’ve been winter, or just cold, because it was raining.
the grass was all soaking wet, and water dripped down your face and near your eyes as you looked up at him with the biggest smile.
my shoes are now full of water
“did i look super hot out on the field?” he joked. you knew he had only been out there for a few minutes.
“totally.” you pulled him by his shoulders and kissed him on the lips, drops of water falling off his hair.
“i did better than scott, right?” stiles asked after you pulled apart and you laughed.
“well…”
the boy made a face at you and you scoffed.
“okay, well, he’s team captain for a reason.”
“it’s fine, i know i was better than him.”
“you keep telling yourself that, buddy.”
lovely to be rained on with you
“did you find a good one, y/n? something strong?” lydia asked and you shook your head.
“keep searching, y/n.” scott’s voice was just as soft as lydia’s, but she quickly shushed him.
“y/n, you need to find a stronger memory.”
it’s kinda cute, but it’s
you looked through the dvds and picked one out at random.
it wasn’t like you could pick and choose when they were all blank.
you thought, ‘better than nothing.’ and put it in the player.
so short
“again?”
“come on. please?” stiles made a sad face as he held out the star wars dvd to you. “we haven’t watched it in like… a month.”
“we just watched a star wars movie like a week ago.”
“yeah, but that was a new hope, so now we have to watch empire.”
“okay, fine, but my mom wants me home right after.”
“yes! also, don’t worry about that. i’ll drive you.” he smiled brightly as he put the disc into the dvd player in his living room then dropped onto the couch beside you. “you know, this is why you’re my favorite.”
“what?”
“scott would never watch this with me. especially not multiple times.”
“scott never watches movies with anyone. you should know this by now.” you bumped him with your elbow.
“i know, i know.” stiles slid his arm around your shoulder and kissed your cheek. “you’re still my favorite, though.”
then you’re driving me home
you sat in the passenger seat of stiles’ jeep, which sounded like it was going to fall apart as he drove it, later that night.
you glanced to your side, staring at his face.
you could tell a smile tugged on his lips and he looked to you for a split second.
“what are you staring at, weirdo?” he asked and you looked out the window again.
“nothing.”
“liar. you were looking at me.” he teased. “cause you think i’m so hot.”
“is that a crime?”
“oh, definitely not. you can look at me all you want.”
there was silence between you two for a moment as he pulled into your driveway. you sighed.
he looked at you this time.
“do i have to leave?”
he chuckled and gave you a kiss. “i’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”
“see you tomorrow…”
and i don’t want to leave
“keep pushing, y/n.” lydia motivated. “search deeper. you can find the one you need.”
“do i have to leave?” you muttered the words. “see you tomorrow…”
lydia sighed. “y/n, try searching deeper. you’ve got this.”
there was a growing stack of dvds being dumped on your bed after going through its memory.
you picked out another one.
but i have to go
“come on. you don’t need to go in there.” you pointed up at the building beside you inside the large gates. “you’re not crazy.”
“i don’t want to hurt anyone, y/n.” stiles spoke, sheriff stilinski standing beside him. “especially not you.”
“but eichen house?” you stared at him sadly. “stiles…”
he reached out his hand and pulled you into his chest, hugging you tight. he kissed the top of your head.
“i love you, y/n.”
you sighed, your arms keeping him as close as possible. you didn’t want to let him go. “i love you too, stiles.”
you kiss me in your car
“come on, stiles. breathe.” you cupped the boy’s face in your hands. “try not to think about it. think about something else.”
“like what?” he panted, looking up at you with sad eyes and a broken expression.
you were both sat on the locker room floor, he was having a panic attack.
“happy things. friends, family-” you stopped yourself after he gave you a look. “okay, not family. try not to think about your dad. just breathe.”
“i…” he hyperventilated. you adjusted your hands on the sides of his face. his eyes met yours.
that was all you could see. his eyes.
“stiles, just breathe.” you could see there wasn’t really a difference in his actions. you leaned forward and attached your lips to his.
his eyes went wide, but he seemed to melt into the kiss.
you pulled apart and he stared into your eyes, his breathing slowed down, the panic attack over.
you grabbed his hand and he intertwined your fingers.
and it feels like the start of a movie i’ve seen before
“i kissed him.” you spoke to lydia and the others, your eyes closed as you sat at the table in front of them. “he was having a panic attack. i kissed him.”
“holding your breath stops a panic attack.” lydia nodded, explaining to the others. “now, y/n, find something deeper. something more important to you. something more important to him.”
“to stiles.”
“exactly.”
the next dvd was higher up on the shelf, you grabbed it easily.
bedsheets, no clothes
you were lying beside stiles, running your finger along his bare chest.
he pulled you closer to him with a smile, pushing some of your hair away from your face.
“hey.” he whispered.
you smiled back. “hey.”
“that was something.”
“a good something or a bad something?” you asked, still whispering.
“definitely a good something.” he rubbed his hand up your arm. “probably the best something. i don’t know if there’s been a better something—”
“alright, i get it.” you chuckled softly.
there was no need for the whispering, it was the evening and no one else was home, but you still did.
his hand ran along the side of your face. “you’re so beautiful.”
there was no way you could’ve fought off the smile on your face as your cheeks warmed.
touch me like nobody else does
“definitely a good something.” you recalled. “he said it was definitely a good something.”
“what was?”
you went quiet again, searching through the different dvds.
some memories were shorter than others, just conversations or things like that.
“find something, y/n. good or bad.”
lovely to just lay here with you
you picked out another dvd. it was blank like all of the others, but it seemed different.
you took it off the shelf because it seemed to be staring right at you, practically calling your name.
you played that one.
the memory didn’t give you a feeling that it would bring him back, but it felt like something you needed to see.
you’re kinda cute, and i would say all of this
“come on, stiles.” you whispered. “you can talk to me.”
he was ignoring you. and you had no clue why.
he sighed and your eyebrows knitted in confusion.
it was late at night and you were both lying in his bed, him with his back to you.
“can you just… drop it?” he mumbled. “i’m not in the mood.”
“what happened, stiles?”
“nothing, just go to sleep.” he adjusted himself in the bed slightly, but didn’t face you.
“stiles…”
but i don’t wanna ruin the moment
time seemed to skip and he was sitting up, facing you.
“what? do you not trust me or something?” you asked.
“no, that’s not it—” he cut himself off. “i just don’t want to talk about it.”
“stiles, i get that, but i want to know what’s going on with you.” you put your hand on his shoulder and he, quite obviously, winced. “what’s up with your shoul—”
“nothing, y/n. just leave it.” he winced again and pushed your hand off. “i don’t need your help.”
“seriously?” you scoffed as he turned his back to you again. “you know what? whatever.”
you pushed the covers of his bed off and stood up, slipping your shoes on.
“where are you going?” stiles asked, sitting up again.
“home.” you answered. “you obviously need space, so i’m respecting that. i’m not gonna push it anymore.”
“wait, babe,” he started getting out of his bed. “i don’t want you to go.”
“i’m still going, stiles.” you picked up your backpack. “we can talk tomorrow.”
“it’s late.”
“i’m aware. my car’s outside, remember?”
“please stay.”
“i’ll see you tomorrow, or whenever you’re ready to talk about whatever the hell’s going on with you right now.”
lovely to sit in between comfort and chaos
standing in your bedroom, staring at the tv as you left stiles’ bedroom, you remembered the fact that you didn’t talk the next day.
stiles just never said anything about it to you.
not until after everything with theo was practically over.
basically everyone else knew about it, but you.
he didn’t think you would understand, which was probably the most upsetting part for you because you did.
you understood it was self defence. you understood he did it because if he didn’t he would’ve died.
but it’s over
“y/n? are you okay?” scott asked, ignoring lydia as she shushed him.
you nodded. being hypnotised was weird.
lydia had taken notice of your saddened expression too.
“find a different memory, y/n. i know you can do this.”
then you’re driving me home
the next memory you found was not long after theo was literally sent to hell.
you were with stiles in his jeep. he was driving you home again. except this time going home from scott’s house.
the car was silent, but not in the usual comfortable way. neither of you had really spoken to the other since that night, only really for pack stuff.
you were terrified that he thought the two of you had broken up, and he was scared of the exact same thing.
“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you that night.” stiles spoke up. “i should’ve said something.”
“no, i get why you didn’t. i was being pushy and you didn’t want to—”
“i did want to tell you.” he sighed. “i was so scared, y/n. i thought there was a chance that you wouldn’t understand or something and i’d lose you.”
he looked right at you.
“i mean, scott didn’t.”
“that was theo’s fault.” you told him. “scott didn’t know the full story. you know he knows the truth now.”
“mm.” he seemed to agree, but you could tell something was still off by his body language.
you took the hand he didn’t have on the wheel into yours.
and it kinda comes out as i get up to go
“you know, i still love you, right?” you told him after he stopped and he looked over at you.
“wha— oh, yeah. yeah, i know.” he nodded, avoiding your eyes, looking outside the car.
“do you know?”
he didn’t answer for a moment, then shrugged.
“i do, stiles.” you kissed his cheek. “i love you, and that never changed.”
“never?”
“not for one moment.”
he smiled, then laughed softly, then leaned forward and kissed you on the lips.
“i love you too.”
you kiss me in your car
“it never changed.” you sniffled slightly. “i still loved him after everything. he was so scared i wouldn’t, but it never changed.”
“after what, y/n?” lydia asked, hoping more elaboration would help them bring back stiles.
“after donovan.”
scott knew what you were talking about, that was something he had remembered when he thought about stiles.
“after i knew, i still loved him, and he still loved me.”
and it feels like the start of a movie i’ve seen before
then you picked up one more dvd. you just stared at its blank cover and seemed to know what it was.
putting the disk in, you watched as you ran with stiles to his jeep in the school parking lot.
this was the last memory you had of stiles. the last time you had really seen him.
but it’s not real
“y/n, babe, listen. you’re going to forget me.” stiles’ voice seemed to echo around you as you recalled the night.
“no, i won’t. stiles, i won’t.”
“you will.” he cupped your cheeks and made you look him in the eyes. “you will.”
you shook your head as tears threatened to spill. “i won’t.”
“it’s okay, just find some way to remember me. any way.”
“stiles…”
and you don’t exist
“i was the last person to see him.” you spoke to your friends. “i was there when they took him. i saw it happen.”
that night was so long ago, but all the details were rushing back to you now.
you were starting to remember it all.
not just that night, but everything about stiles.
and i can’t recall the last time i was kissed
“i know you’ll find some way to remember me.” he squeezed your hand. “ do you remember the first time we danced at the winter formal? you were the first girl i ever danced with.”
you had gone together as friends, despite everyone knowing you had crushes on each other.
“remember how we started dating that summer.”
“the summer before junior year.” you nodded.
“yeah.” he stroked your cheek, wiping away a tear. “that was the best summer of my life.”
you chuckled. “mine too.”
“remember all those sleepovers we’ve had. remember when we’ve fought. remember every time we’ve kissed, or…” he paused and just stared you in the eyes.
the interior of the car was silent, but the wind blew violently outside.
“just remember i love you, okay?” he kissed your hand. “please just remember that. i need you to.”
then he was pulled from the car. the wind stopped and he was gone.
it hits me in the car
you sat there, curled into a ball in the passenger seat, sobbing.
you muttered over and over. “i remember. just remember. i promise.”
you hated the silence, and you hated that he was gone. you didn’t even notice that he had started to slip from your mind.
not until you walked into school the next day, anxiety overwhelming you as your brain tried to remember why it felt like you were forgetting something.
why it felt like a whole piece of you was missing.
just then, remembering what it was like when he was taken, every single memory of yours that included stiles came rushing back.
memories from when you were friends as kids, up until high school. memories from after scott was bitten, back when stiles had his buzzcut.
memories from when he was possessed by the nogitsune. memories from all the times both of you had almost died.
memories of the two of you before and after you started dating. memories with scott and the pack, memories with his dad, memories alone.
all of it.
and it feels like the end of a movie i’ve seen before
you opened your eyes and looked around. you weren’t in your bedroom anymore, you were back in argent’s underground bunker with lydia, scott and malia.
“y/n.”
lydia had tried to get your attention, but stiles’ voice played over and over in your mind.
you could see bright lights coming from outside the room, and you rushed out. the three of your friends who were still there ran after you.
you stopped in the corridor, the lights so bright you couldn’t see anything.
then you could see him.
not his face, or any defining qualities at all, but you knew it was him.
he was more like a silhouette, but you could recognize stiles stilinski anywhere.
“stiles.” you breathed out, a smile breaking out onto your face.
you were finally going to have him back. after months of the awful anxiety and feeling that something was missing.
he was like the last piece of your puzzle, and you were going to be complete.
then the light faded.
before
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a/n: first post on tumblr help this is scary
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Stiles and the Not-So-Fake Boyfriend by CognizantCatastrophe
No Rating Given | 2k | 1/1
Stiles does NOT have a boyfriend: of that, the pack, his dad, and the entire community of Beacon Hills are completely convinced. It's just a fact that Stiles is single. Poor Stiles; he's probably lonely. Maybe they can set him up with someone!
Unless you're Stiles, that is. Seriously. He DOES have a boyfriend. Why won't anyone believe him?
160 notes · View notes
mikereads · 3 months
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-Sterek’s Hawaiian honey moon.
After finally figuring out there feelings and tying the knot. They are able to finally set a date in between the hectic chaos of Beacon Hills and the FBI. After there wedding they go away, far away. They decide to celebrate in Hawaii which seems like paradise. They plan on relaxing all week but unforeseen circumstances arise and they realize they can’t leave the supernatural back in Beacon hills not forever anyway.
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christinesficrecs · 5 months
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do you have any fic recs for season 3a? i’ve been rewatching and i really like the storyline 🥹
Well, Post-3B is my jam but try these ones. 🩷
Don’t Speak by fatale | 68.9K 
The Alpha pack has systematically attacked Stiles and his friends for months, testing their strengths and weaknesses. When one of the Alphas goes after Stiles, he awakens in the hospital and realizes that something’s wrong. Very wrong. All sounds seem to hurt him, he can’t understand what anyone is saying, and when he tries to speak, it’s gibberish. How is he supposed to deal with the fact that he’s lost the ability to communicate with his dad and his friends?
Without his ability to talk, his sarcasm, and his wit, what does Stiles even have left? Enter Derek, the only one who seems to make it better.
Thunderstorms & Polish Lullabies by Whispering_Samir | 10K
The one where Stiles time-travels just in time to save Boyd and Derek from the Alphas, and manages to heal everyone, including himself, just a little in the process.
There’s Monsters at Home by calrissian18 | 83,575
How did you get past the wards?” Derek had put them up, with Peter’s grudging assistance, after the Alpha pack had made themselves at home a few times too many.
The guy pulled a face. “You mean the wards a five-year-old girl with the mental ability of a goldfish could deconstruct?” He blinked wide eyes at Derek. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s bound to go down as one of life’s great mysteries.
Derek despised him.
Forging Bonds by  mikkimouse | 27.5K
The loft was flooded, the water shimmering in the moonlight streaking through the huge windows. The twins held Derek on his knees, with his arms extended and claws out. Kali had Boyd, and she was dragging him toward Derek, and—
Stiles aimed at the twin closest to him and threw the Molotov cocktail as hard as he could.
Bake to Remember, Eat to Forget by  butyoureyessaidyes | 125.2K
The one where Stiles runs his own bakery, never locks the front door, and doesn’t know he’s part of a werewolf pack (until he does).
The Nightmare of my Choice by mirrorkill | 106.2K | Mature
Rogue werewolves and incubi and ghosts, oh my!: Life in Beacon Hills continues to be the epitome of weird.
Especially for emissary-in-training Stiles, who's being literally haunted by a parade of Beacon Hills' deceased, who are trying to compel him to embrace the darkness in his heart. His only source of comfort is when he's writing to an emotionally constipated Beta werewolf. When Derek Hale is your anchor to sanity? Yeah, weird might be an underestimation.
Stiles is well suited to the path of an emissary; in fact, something important about him has already been overlooked. Something that could have deadly consequences both for him, and for everyone else...
Wanted by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions) | 88K | Mature
With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek's mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He's doomed.
In this Darkness (It's You I Hear) by Kedreeva | 9.9K | Mature
Deucalion bites Stiles on the way out of town, and Derek finds him in an unexpected condition....
here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain | 22.3K
“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”
Where You Go To Rest Your Bones by allyasavedtheday | 6.4K
Derek feels him take a deep, shuddering breath and then Stiles disentangles himself – though he stays within the circle of Derek’s arms. “I missed you.” he whispers, looking at Derek like he’s expecting to be kicked out at any moment.
You're stronger than you know by Littleredridinghunter | 234.1K
Set at the end of season 2, Stiles survives his encounter with Gerard and his goons, but it isn't easy.
The pack are letting him down again, his dad is not speaking to him, his life is just generally falling apart.
Until he has to get a bronze dagger to kill a siren and his whole world gets flipped on it's head!
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fanficimagery · 1 year
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Lucky Dog Rescue
After opening up a dog sanctuary and receiving your first shipment of dogs, you're surprised to receive a werewolf- er, well a man stuck in his werewolf form. You're even more surprised when a handsome stranger strolls into Lucky Dog Rescue, claiming to be the wolf you took care of.
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For as long as you can remember, you've always had a connection with animals. You'd begged for a puppy growing up, but given what your family was, it wasn't feasible. So, when you were old enough to fly the coop, after many conditions set in place by your family, you decided to open up Lucky Dog Rescue- a sanctuary for dogs who were set to be euthanized because other shelters had run out of space or because they'd been too long on the adoption list.
Just on the outskirts of Beacon Hills, your family had found and purchased some land for you. There was already a house on the property and it wasn't too hard for your family to hire a construction company to build you your very own animal shelter on the back half of the land. It took a year to get the shelter up to code and running, and now here you are waiting for the first shipment of dogs- only ten of them as of now until you could figure out a routine and eventually hire some help.
From sitting perched on your porch swing, you spot the large truck turning down your driveway. Eager to greet your new rescues, you stand and start making your way down the steps to direct the driver where it is he's supposed to unload the dogs.
Then hopping in a golf cart, you drive towards the shelter yourself.
The truck driver is waiting by the back of his truck, clipboard in hand by the time you pull up next to him. He reads something off his paperwork before saying your name as if questioning your identity. "Yep. That's me."
"Cool." As he starts to unlock the door, the dogs inside start barking and whining. "So is this like a rehabilitation for dogs or something?" The truck driver asks.
"It's more of a temporary home. These dogs are some that were set to be euthanized either because the shelters ran out of room or they'd been waiting too long to be adopted out."
"Shit. Really?" As he climbs into the truck, you climb in behind him to check the dogs in their crates. "There's a Cane Corso in here. He's huge for a puppy though. I'd figured he'd have been adopted out as soon as possible."
"Yeah, Cane Corso's are magnificent pets and guard dogs, but most people can't deal with their size or their food consumption. But I have a good feeling about this one," you muse, squatting so you can poke your fingers through the cage. "I just gotta make sure all these boys and girls are healthy and adoptable before putting their pictures on the web in hopes of finding them a forever home."
As you stand back up, you do a quick head count and frown. When the driver catches you doing so, he chuckles nervously. "Oh, uh, when I picked up the dogs there was an extra." He walks over to the very front of the truck where there's what appears to be a big black dog lying quietly in his crate. "It's assumed he's a wolfdog and he was set to be put down, but he seemed too intelligent to do so. The shelter he came from was hoping you could put him up here."
Making your way to the crate, you crouch and look at the wolfdog. But something about him gives you pause, even more so when he lifts his head and starts to scent the air. Then all of a sudden he starts to growl while staring directly at you and it clicks. "Easy, boy," you coo.
"Huh. That's the most noise I've heard him make," the driver says.
"Yeah, well he probably just picked up a scent on me that he doesn't like," you say. "Which is silly because I swear that this is a safe place," you say, making sure the werewolf understands. The werewolf slowly calms and you smile, reaching in to rub a finger along the top of one of his paws.
"Right," the driver says. "Well everyone else is here. "You have three French Bulldogs, two Australian Cattle dogs, one Australian Shepherd, one Siberian Husky, the Cane Corso, one Border Collie, and one Corgi."
"Nice. Well let's start leashing them and escorting them into the shelter," you say. "Each enclosure has a door that leads them outside to their own enclosed space, so don't worry about them not using the bathroom. They can go as soon as you close the door behind them."
"Got it. I'll get these babies first." You watch as the driver starts leashing the French Bulldogs, baby talking at them as he takes them out of their crates.
As soon as the driver disappears, you look back at the werewolf. "Listen, I know what you are. I don't want to leash you, but I can't have you running off before we can figure out what to do with you." The werewolf tilts his head, snuffling, and you gesture to yourself. "Only human in a family full of werewolves. I know a werewolf when I see one, so you're safe here. My family lives an hour away, so you don't have to worry about encroaching on any pack territory. It's just me. Trust me?" The werewolf huffs and you grin. "Excellent. I'm going to open the door now, so please don't run off. You'll have to go in an enclosure, but as soon as the driver leaves you can join me at the house."
You open his crate and he steps out, stretching. He stays by your side and you grin before grabbing a leash and leashing the Australian Shepherd.
Side by side, the truck driver helps you get the dogs situated in their own enclosures. Then after thanking him and sending him off, the werewolf watches as you give the other dogs their own bowls of food and water.
"Come on," you gesture for him to follow you. "Let's head to my house and try to figure out a plan for you. I doubt you want to sleep on a cushion on the floor with your fellow canines."
The werewolf follows you and trots side by side the golf cart as you take off.
Walking up the porch, you kick off your boots before pointing at the doormat. "Wipe your paws, please."
You hold the door open for him while he does so and then he trots into your house without any hesitance. You follow him in, heading towards the kitchen and grab yourself something to drink. Then turning around, you find the werewolf staring right at you. You startle in surprise and then laugh at your own jumpiness.
"Right," you drag out the word. "So, uh, can you shift back or…?" The werewolf barks and shakes his head. You sigh. "Of course you can't." Frowning, you glance all around and try to figure out how you're going to communicate with him. Then an idea comes to you. "I got it! Stay here."
Rushing from the room, you head to one of your storage closets and pull out bin after bin to find what you're looking for. Soon enough, you find several buttons that can be programmed to say different things. Then after finding the USB wire, you take the buttons back with you to the living room where your laptop is so you can program words so the werewolf can answer you.
"So I thought I could use these buttons to train some of the dogs, but I guess I'll be using them on you," you say as you plug the red button in. "Red will be no, green will be yes, and white will be I don't know. Sound good?"
The werewolf sits and you get to work programming three of the buttons. Once done, you set out each button in front of him.
"Okay, so, just to make sure… can you change back?"
The wolf gives you a deadpan stare before raising a paw and stepping on the red button. "No."
"Okay. Do you have a pack?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Do you want me to contact-"
"No."
"What? Why not?" You frown. "Are you running away from them?"
"No."
You sigh. "This would be so much easier if you could actually talk." Then taking a moment to think, you ask, "So if you can't change back, was this done to you on purpose?"
"Yes."
"Wow. Okay." You stare at the wolf, not knowing what to do. "I… I'm at a loss here, man. This was done to you on purpose, but you don't want me to contact your pack. Do you want me to contact mine and-"
"No."
"Do you think this will wear off?"
"I don't know."
You run a hand over your face, rubbing the space between your brows. "I'm probably out of my damn mind, but as someone who knows about pack dynamics, I feel like I can trust you. Can I trust you?"
"Yes."
"Well I mean anyone would say that, but oh well. You seem pretty sane. If you were a crazed omega, I think you would've been thrashing in that crate of yours. Or tried to attack me by now." The wolf sits and tilts his head at you. "Ugh. I might regret this, but screw it. Since you're stuck in this form, I don't want you out there in the elements. I have a spare bedroom you can use, but the second you're back to human status, you're replacing the mattress and sheets."
The wolf huffs and steps forward, stepping on the green button. "Yes."
"Good. And just so you know, I'm giving you a month. If you haven't changed back by then, we're calling your pack." The wolf's ears twitch and you grin, pushing yourself to stand. "Alright, so I'm hungry. What do you think about eating and just settling in? I'll program more buttons tomorrow, but for now I'll keep it to yes or no questions."
The wolf nods, licking his chomps.
As you start heading towards the kitchen, you hesitate. "Oh, wait! I don't even know your name. Or should I just call you Wolfie for now?"
The wolf barks, brushing past you and you laugh as he goes.
Day to day with a strange werewolf is bound to be interesting.
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Over the course of the month with Wolfie, you find that you quite like his company even though the only way he can speak with you is through the buttons or tiles of the alphabet that he steps on to spell out something. Of course, getting used to his presence took a few days- days that left you embarrassed beyond belief when you accidentally flashed him your underwear after waking up and walking downstairs in nothing but a shirt and underwear to brew your coffee.
Wolfie, who eventually spelled out that his name was Derek, took to roaming your property while you worked with the dogs. He avoided the veterinarian when she stopped by to give everyone a check-up, and then avoided the two teenage boys who the veterinarian sent your way to clean the kennels since they needed volunteer hours for their college applications.
During the day you took care of your animals with the help of two teenage boys, taking pictures to add to your website in hopes of adopting the little furballs out. You even made flyers which the boys took into town, taping them around town and leaving them at places of establishment.
And then at night, you made dinner for you and Derek who quickly made himself comfortable on the sectional in your living room after promising to replace anything he ruined.
When the month officially ends, Derek is stubborn about keeping mum about his pack. And every time you mention it, Derek trots over to the yellow button to press it. Stay. He won't tell you anything about his pack, so you don't know where to start looking for them and you really don't want to inform your family.
But then halfway into the second month, two men that appear in their early twenties walk into Lucky Dog Rescue and you know Derek must know them by the way he perks up from his position by the front desk.
The paler individual of the two spots Derek, his eyes widening as he makes a beeline for him which forces his brown skinned companion to quickly follow. You smile at them, especially when one of them kneels in front of Derek to meet his gaze and Derek sniffs before turning his head.
"Hi," you greet them, walking over. "Can I help you guys?"
The brown skinned young man suddenly looks sheepish as he smiles at you. "Uh, yeah. Sorry about him," he says. "I'm Scott. My friend here is Stiles. I, uh, I saw a flier for this place at the vet clinic I work for and thought what you were doing was pretty awesome."
"Yeah." Your demeanor softens a little. "I've always loved animals so it was a no brainer about what I wanted to do when I had the means to do it."
"That's awesome." His smile is quite contagious, especially when he glances at Stiles and you see that Stiles is dead set on gaining Derek's attention. Even when Derek doesn't want to give it and keeps averting his attention. "Anyway, I looked up your website and saw some of the canines you had available. We saw the, uh, the wolfdog and thought we might inquire into whether or not he was up for adoption."
"Sorry, guys, but he is not. I'm actually trying to track down his family."
"What?!" Stiles yelps. Scott's eyes widen as he glances between you and his friend, and you shrug. "But- but he's ours!"
You arch an eyebrow at him. "Is that so?"
"Yes!"
"Then why does our furry little friend seem to want nothing to do with you?"
Stiles gapes as he glances back at Derek, gently tweaking one of his ears. "Come on, sourwolf, and let the nice lady know we're family."
Derek yawns in Stiles' face before getting up and trotting over to his mat of buttons. Then staring directly at Stiles, Derek steps on the red one. "No." Now both Stiles and Scott are gaping, and you're left trying to stifle your laughter.
"Derek!" Stiles snaps and you mentally perk up. So they know his name, huh. Maybe they are telling the truth. "This isn't funny. We need to get you home. We've been searching everywhere for you."
The turquoise button is pressed next. "Bitch."
You slap a hand too little too late over your mouth after a laugh has escaped and you shrug when Scott and Stiles stare at you. "He's, uh, he's really intelligent and I've been using the buttons to communicate with him," you tell him. "The bitch button was for shits and giggles. He's never used it until now though."
Stiles' eyes narrow while glancing back at Derek. "I hope she gave you a flea bath," he hisses.
You start to giggle and walk around the counter, giving up the act. "Alright, Derek, game's over. I know you know them because if not, you would have already pressed the purple button until I locked myself back up at the house."
"Purple button?" Scott asks. "What's the purple say?"
Derek refuses to press it, so Stiles does. "Danger."
"He's only pressed it twice since he's been here, but fortunately they were false alarms." Scott and Stiles nod, and you grin. "So which one of you is the werewolf?"
They both freeze. "You know?" Stiles asks.
"Yep. Perks of growing up as the only human in a pack," you tell them. "I could tell Derek wasn't a wolfdog like I was told, so when he wasn't thrashing in his crate or trying to attack me when he was let out, I took a chance on him. However, as a human, I can't tell who's who." Stiles continues to gape and Scott nervously shifts from foot to foot. Then while trying not to appear intimidating, Scott lets his eyes flash red. You smile at him before bowing your head slightly in respect for him. "Welcome, alpha."
"Hi. You don't know how much we appreciate you looking after Derek. It's been hell trying to track him down."
"Well I'm glad you found my flier and website. He says he's stuck, but he wanted to wait the curse out in hopes of transforming back. I gave him a month, but he's been a stubborn little shit and refused to tell me anything about his pack since then."
"Yep. Sounds like Derek," Stiles says, standing up while glaring at him. "So, uh, since he technically can't be adopted out, can we just take him?"
"Yeah! Sorry," you chuckle. And then when you glance back down at Derek, you're hit with a wave of emotion that makes your eyes sting. Laughing at yourself, you squat down and raise a hand to rub at the side of his neck. "So this is goodbye, huh? I didn't actually think it would suck this bad." Derek steps towards you, headbutting you. You smile softly. "Maybe I should have made you stay out here instead of inside my home. I think I got attached."
Derek steps back, but before he leaves he steps over to the buttons one last time. While glancing at you, he steps on the pink. "Friend."
You slowly smile and give him a nod. "Always."
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The days drag on after Derek's departure, so you throw yourself into work.
Surprisingly, you manage to adopt out five dogs- the husky, the French Bulldogs, and the Corgi. Those five are quickly replaced and then word must have traveled about Lucky Dog Rescue because you start receiving visitor after visitor, and dog after dog find their forever home.
When you're able to start hiring employees, the number of dogs in the shelter steadily rises. The shelter can only hold up to fifty dogs, yet the most dogs you've had at one time is twenty-eight.
Then when work starts to slow and you settle into an easy routine, your days with Derek haunt you. Especially at night when you grew accustomed to having him join you on the sofa or trotting around your house, and now it's complete silence. Sometimes you missed him so much that you thought about asking around for an alpha Scott to see if they ever returned Derek to his human self, but then you thought better of it. He'd reach out if and when he wanted to.
So instead, you adopted.
You adopt a Basset Hound that had been surrendered to your shelter because the owners were moving and couldn't take Beau with them, and he won your heart over almost immediately.
Beau liked to go on walks every now and then, but he most enjoyed curling up on the couch with you or curling up on his bed under the front desk down at the shelter while you were working.
One day, while it's slow and your employees are taking care of the dogs in the back, you sit down on the floor in front of the front counter to play fetch with Beau. He's enjoying chasing a tennis ball and then playing keep away with it. You don't notice when the front door jingles to signify a possible client, but you do notice when Beau whines and runs behind the counter.
Gaping at your dog, you shake your head in disbelief at him. "Some guard dog you are, punk." There's a deep chuckle and you glance up at the stranger- the very handsome stranger, actually- and quickly climb to your feet. "Hi. Sorry about that. Welcome to Lucky Dog Rescue. What can I do for you?"
The dark haired man shrugs, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "I believe I owe you a new mattress. And my thanks."
"Excuse me?"
"My name is Derek Hale. It's nice to finally speak with you." You gape at the man standing before you before you snap out of your stupor and rush forward. But before you can touch him, you freeze.
"Uhhh… is it weird that I want to hug you right about now?"
"Not at all." He pulls his hands from his pockets, spreading his arms, and you readily latch on to him. He chuckles as you laugh in glee. "So I see the shelter is doing good."
"It is! Yeah."
As you pull back from the embrace, he asks, "Is Beau yours or…?"
"Mhm. Mine," you tell him. You walk around the counter to drag Beau back out, intent on making him greet Derek so he knows he's not a threat. "Kind of got used to having a companion in my house that I learned pretty fast it sucks living alone." Derek squats and holds his hand out, smiling as you coo at Beau and assure him that the big cuddly werewolf doesn't mean either of you any harm. "So did you guys get everything squared away? Did you find who cursed you in your wolf form?"
"We did. Scott doesn't like to use violence, so it took us a while to broker a treaty with some witches that were looking to settle in Beacon Hills."
You wince. "Witches are sneaky. I hope you worded the treaty very carefully."
"We knew exactly what they were after. It's what everyone's after and why Beacon Hills is a beacon for the supernatural," he says. "The treaty wasn't one necessarily for peace. It was a treaty stating that if they stepped foot back in our territory, all niceties go out the window and the pack is allowed to attack."
"Good."
Derek nods. "And on another note, I actually came in to adopt."
You perk up. "Really?!"
"Yeah. I've been checking your website and I saw the Corso was still here."
"Yes." You sigh sadly. "Everyone likes to look at him and get his hopes up. He's just too big for anyone to care for around here."
"Well then I guess it's a good thing I have the means to care for him."
You slowly grin. "Does this mean I get picture updates of him?"
"I will bring him by whenever you want. Or you can drop by my place and even bring Beau along. We can have a… playdate of sorts for the dogs."
"A playdate for the dogs, huh?"
Derek smiles. "And maybe the owners if Beau's mom is up to it."
"Oh. I'm pretty sure Beau's mom is up for it." You laugh. "But before we can go on those playdates, we need to get you your pup."
"Dante. His name's going to be Dante."
"Nice." You then gesture for him to follow you to the back. "Let's go get Beau's new friend Dante then."
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kitchenisking · 4 months
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Sterek Fic Rec
Seventh Night of Chunnuka
I Howl When We're Apart by victurius - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3,433, sterek)
In which Derek takes possessiveness to a whole new level...
A Window to His Soul by OKDeanna - (Rating: T, Words: 3,627, sterek)
When Stiles takes a tumble in the Preserve, it's Derek who helps pull him back up to safety, making Stiles realize just how often the other man has managed to save him. How much they've managed to save each other... while somehow avoiding the one thing they both seem to want the most.
Until now.
Timeline: Post Series - Movie? What Movie?
Where The Wild Things Are by DeadWalker - (Rating: T, Words: 30,049, sterek)
Derek finds a boy in the woods. He might not have realized it then, but that is the moment his whole life changes.
Mountain To Hide Behind by Hedwig221b - (Rating: T, Words: 3,352, sterek)
“Did you honestly think Stiles wouldn’t notice your absence? He can’t even stomach his dinner, because he knows you’re busy fucking side-chicks as he does so.”
A stunned silence filled the room.
Right then, faced with the sentence he was too scared to even think of, Stiles realized he couldn’t take it anymore. At his first mortifying quiet sniff, Derek swerved around to look at him.
He looked horrified.
Once Upon a Dream by gryvon - (Rating: T, Words: 14,043, sterek)
Stiles has been dreaming of the Hale family burning alive since he was a child. After being locked in Eichen for a year, Stiles learns to keep his visions to himself. That doesn't stop him from keeping an eye on Derek Hale while he waits for Kate Argent to make her move. Only watching Derek becomes loving Derek and stopping Derek and Kate from getting together turns into Stiles dating Derek Hale. He's in love with Derek but his visions haven't stopped, only now he has to watch Derek die with the rest of his family. He'll do anything to keep that dream from becoming reality.
A Letter From Mom by StilesIsMySpiritAnimal - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 32,906, sterek)
After waking up at the age of 11 without any memories of his past Stiles spends eight years with his father in the tiny town of Shelter Cove, California. After his father's death he receives a notice from a storage facility in some town called Beacon Hills. Stiles is confused and thinks the manager made a mistake until he finds a letter that should have been for his 18th birthday that his dad never gave him. It's from his mother, who he has no memory of. Weirdly enough, her letter mentions Beacon Hills and some woman named Talia, who he's supposed to trust. Confused and angry at his father, Stiles sets out for Beacon Hills anxious and determined to find out what his dad had been hiding from him all these years.
Gimme Shelter by SophieTrancy - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 22,910, sterek)
Things aren’t exactly going Stiles’ way. With all the bad things that have happened in BH, Stiles seeks refuge with the only person Stiles truly trusts. Derek. Stiles left everything behind, finding shelter in Derek’s home in a small town away from everyone. In a mix of bottled up feelings, lust and traumatizing pasts, they find peace in each other. 
Set after season 5A - My take on their 'Sterek' happy ending
Rumble by clairell - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,405, sterek)
Derek and Stiles have sex during a thunderstorm.
Say My Name by Giggles96 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,867, sterek)
Prompt: Can you please pretty please write something where Stiles is unable to call Derek anything other than daddy or da-da? Please oh my God, please? Prefer it to be sexual but non-sexual’s fine too.
When a witch’s curse renders Stiles unable to refer to Derek as anything other than Daddy, it never occurs to anyone that Derek may just have been granted his deepest, darkest wish.
Love You in the Dark by thedevilyousay - (Rating: Mature, Words: 3,682, sterek)
Prompt: Person B knowing they’re undoubtedly about to die within the next few seconds, likely from the gaping wound they’re bleeding out from. Instead of calling for help, they phone Person A and carry on a casual conversation as if nothing is wrong, making sure to mention how much they love them before their time runs out.
It’s the ringtone that wakes him. He’s only been asleep for an hour or two, maybe, and to his sleep deprived brain it’s the most obnoxious noise he’s ever heard. He blindly flails for the phone, knows it’s buried some where in the bed. He finally finds it mid chorus, “got my heartbeat running away” still echoing as he slides to answer.
" What?” He snarls.
“Derek! Derek. H-hey, hey, were you asleep? I figured you’d still be awake but I’m going to guess you were asleep because of your voice and I –“
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palemoondust · 4 months
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AU SUPERNATURAL HIGHSCHOOL FANART: Set in a timeline where both stiles and Derek are teens from rivals packs, who also happen to play for the same school Lacrosse Team.Awkwarddd.
However when a series of murders start occurring in Beacon Hills, Spark Stiles and Alpha Derek must put aside their differences and join packs to solve the murders happening in their door step .
This been in the works for a while so I hope y’all like it, if anyone wants to write a draft or something based of this prompt that would be cool . Love y’all .
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