sterek fics of the week
Derek is nine years old when he discovers the gift that he’s been given. A gift that he didn’t necessarily ask for. Derek can touch dead things and bring them back to life. But not without consequences and conditions, many of which are heartbreaking.
Many years later, his path crosses that of his childhood sweetheart, Stiles, in very unfortunate circumstances. But now, Derek’s gift gives him the power to save Stiles. And damned be the consequences.
“Hale & Daughters Funeral Home,” Derek says dully.
“Oh ho! And which daughter are you?”
Derek casts his eyes up to the ceiling. It’s going to be one of those calls.
(In which Derek is a bored secretary, Stiles is a baker who may or may not have ulterior motives, and there are entirely too many macaroons.)
Sighing, Stiles reaches for Derek’s big hands, cradled in his broad lap, his skin lighting up even more at Derek’s touch. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, preparing himself to look for Derek’s soulmate. Whoever you are, he thinks, you better be worth him.
His hind paw catches on a rock and he goes down, crashing onto his stomach, the wind abruptly forced from his lungs. He tries to scramble to his feet – paws, whatever – but he can already sense a large figure hovering over him, trapping him in. He makes a break for it anyway, though, desperately trying to escape, but a large muzzle with rows of sharp teeth is already descending on him and
– and Derek Hale is going to eat him to death. And not even in a sexy way. Then Derek finally will become a murderer, and his dad will have to identify his body by scraping bits of his rabbit intestines off of Derek’s wolf-y canines.
All because he didn’t warn his werewolf friends off from their usual late night hunts, because then he’d have to admit that he’s a fucking wererabbit.
Stiles starts bringing drumsticks to Pack gatherings, sitting himself on the edge of the group to tap out maddening rhythms on his knees as the werewolves train. The first time he’d pulled them out, spinning one stick in a showy twirl between his fingers, Derek had actually staggered a little, missed a basic move, and ended up on his back blinking up at fucking Jackson, of all people.