but how stiles calling derek on his shit

i had the weirdest dream so obviously i had to write a fic about it


They met at the park. It could have been a meet-cute, except Derek doesn’t do cute so it ended up just being weird.

Derek was taking Nora for a walk like he always does when she decided it would be a good idea to chase a squirrel and practically dragged him around, only stopping when another dog got in her way – probably chasing the squirrel too – and they started growling at each other.

“Hey, man. Control your dog, I’m not ready to be a grandpa!”

“My dog is a female.” Derek said, tried not to stare at the other guy’s hands as he struggled to hold his dog back.

“Well,” the other guy said, “how can you know under all – that.” He gestured towards Nora.

“She’s an Alaskan malamute.” Derek took a step back, dragging Nora away from asshole-guy and his dalmatian. “Much better than a dog that you don’t know if it’s white or black.”

The other guy stopped, looked between Derek and his dog. “How dare you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Leia is beautiful.

“Leia?” Derek asked, smirking. “What happened to creativity these days?”

“I’ll show you creativity.” The guy growled, much like Nora was doing, then took Derek’s hand, dragged him towards a bench and started to list all the reasons he named his dog after Princess Leia.

Nora and Leia ended up getting along fabulously, and as fate would have it, so did their owners.

“Unfair.” Stiles mumbles, watching as Derek heads to the bathroom. “I’m supposed to be going to work. Stop teasing me.”

Derek smirks over his shoulder. “Are you sure? I was going to ask you to join me in the shower.”

Gah.” Stiles says as his dick responds to Derek’s smile. “I hate you.”

Derek laughs. “I know.” He walks into the shower, moans purposefully loud when the hot water hits his body. Stiles yells at him to shut up and seconds later he’s joining Derek under the spray.

“You’re gonna kill me.” He leans in for a kiss, nips at Derek’s bottom lip as he runs his hands over Derek’s wet chest. “Fuck,” he moans when Derek presses him against the wall, rubs their dicks together, “you’re awful.”

Derek bites softly at Stiles’ pulse point, enjoys the moan it elicits from him. He’s always talking, moaning, yelling, seriously, Derek is the one who’s going to die here.

It’s been two months and they aren’t even close to getting tired from each other. It’s still hot, fun and - even more - exciting. Sometimes, in between fixing a car or two, Derek checks his phone, sends messages to Stiles, some of them explicit others just telling him about his day, the awful clients that destroy their cars and ask Derek to perform miracles. Other times, it’s Stiles that calls him, rambles about his dad and Leia, about his friends and what he ate that morning.

They haven’t talked about what they are – if they are something – but Stiles doesn’t seem in a hurry, so Derek isn’t going to force him, as much as he wants to.

Really, Derek’s got it so bad even his boss noticed and he’s seventy.

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And suddenly there were 400

Seriously though, it was like three days ago tops when I announced 300. I swear you’re just trying to squeeze celebratory fics out of me … 

“You’re so fucking stubborn!” Stiles shouts in exasperation, running his hands through already messy hair. They had been at it for at least twenty minutes now, arguing because Derek didn’t want to go to Lydia’s engagement party. He didn’t want to, knowing Lydia would be inviting everyone and their mother who had anything to do with her and Parrish. It would be too many people, too much noise and he simply didn’t want to if she was going to hold a pack-only version the week after. Stiles said he should go out of duty as her Alpha. 

“No, you just won’t let it go,” Derek growls, fists clenched in his lap so his claws don’t rip up the couch again. Although, last time, it was under much more fun circumstances.

It wasn’t uncommon for them to argue. It ranged from small skirmishes that end in mumbled apologies to bigger blow outs that ended in mutually satisfying hate sex that Stiles seemed to enjoy enough to start shit for (and Derek plays along because he loves his boyfriend and absolutely not because he likes it, too). The fights could rarely be called fights because it just was never really that heated.

Derek’s nose wanted to shrivel up and die with the anger Stiles’ scent was boiling in and his wolf howled with such an unhappy mate. Even as his human mind wanted to throw something at a wall with how angry he was, his wolf prowled in distress and he wasn’t sure if that was annoying or reassuring.

“News flash, buddy, you can’t be a hermit,” Stiles spits and Derek growl increases in volume in response. He may grumble about ‘big guy’ and snap his teeth as Stiles giggles about ‘sourwolf’, but he absolutely despised ‘buddy’. It only ever came out when Stiles was pissed and his sarcasm grew teeth that he intended to shred whoever his opponent was.

“I’m not a hermit, I go out. We go out,” Derek snaps back, eyes tracking as Stiles paces in front of where he sits on the couch. The line of his shoulders is stiff and the soft skin of his cheeks is blotched red.

“Yes, thank you, you’re dating me, but that doesn’t count as social interaction.”

“Why not?”

“Because! You need more people in your life besides me and the pack! You can’t have just me forever!” Stiles shouts, throwing his arms up obviously trying to dispel the anger that seems to build in his joints when he gets worked up. Derek just scoffs as he gets up and retreats to their kitchen.

He stops right there, even as Stiles continues his angry rant in the other room behind him. He pauses in the middle of their kitchen with the backsplash Stiles chose after weeks of debating it over and the cabinets Derek bled over while he installed them (staple guns were dangerous, damnit). Down the hall was a movie room that Stiles insisted on because pack movie nights were always going to be a thing. Upstairs and to the left was the master bedroom where their scents were so soaked into the very frame work, there was no way to tear apart Derek’s from Stiles’. This was their home, their pack, their life.

Derek turned around, eyes wide but unflinching as he walked back to where Stiles was still ranting and pacing. He’s still seething, and Derek can relate. He still wants to throw Stiles onto the couch and pin him there in full shift for a week until Lydia’s party has past. Instead he stops a few feet away and opens his mouth.

“Marry me.” Stiles stumbles where he’s wearing a divot into the carpet, dropping off mid-sentence to turn his head and stare open mouthed.

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based on this frickin hilarious video go watch it now (also on a03)

Derek gets a call from an unknown number at 10:27am. It happens sometimes, telemarketers, and quite often for the nannying agency that’s one digit off his mobile. Today is a new one.

“Hello, this is Derek.”

“Oh, hi. Okay. Hi, I’m Stiles,” comes a surprised voice from the other end.

“Hi Stiles.”

“So, Derek, this is going to sound strange, but I’m just about to go in for a job interview in three minutes, and I had to fill out this list of references and I was short a number so I wrote down a random one, then thought I should call it to see if it was real. And it is, it’s yours.”

“So you just wrote down a random number as a reference?” Derek asks, confused and also a little amused.

“Yes, that’s right. And look, I’m going in soon, and getting this job would be really great, and so would you mind if I keep your number on the list? They probably won’t call but I–”

“Go for it,” Derek interrupts. What’s the harm in it? He can cross off that he’s done his one nice thing for the day, and this Stiles is right, he probably won’t even get a call.

“Seriously? Ah, okay that’s amazing. Thank you.”

“What’s the job?” Derek asks, grabbing a pen and paper to write it down. He’s warming up to the idea of doing this fake reference thing. It’ll be a laugh if nothing else.

“So it’s an IT position with Saris and Fehr Legal. System maintenance, software security, a bunch of stuff really, but don’t worry about it too much, I just had you down as a personal reference?”

Stiles asks it like a question, showing some nerves, and Derek realises he’s essentially admitting he doesn’t know enough people who’d give him a positive reference.

“Oh well that’s easy enough then, I’ll just say that I’ve known you for years, talk about how you’re organized, trustworthy, etcetera,” Derek’s been a reference for some of his friends before, he knows the drill.

“Ah, yeah, sounds great. Wow. You sure about this?”

“It’s fine, Stiles. It’ll make my day more interesting at any rate.”

“Wow,” Stiles repeats, clearly surprised by Derek’s immediate cooperation. “So it’s Stiles Stilinski, not sure I gave you my last name.”

“No, you didn’t,” he says, writing down Stiles’ surname phonetically. “Mine’s Hale. Derek Hale.”

“Hale,” Stiles repeats, while Derek can hear the sound of a pen moving across paper through the phone. “Alright, I’ve got to go now but thanks so much, Derek. It means a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” Derek says, smiling at how relieved Stiles sounds. “Good luck for the interview.”

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fic rec friday

Random fic recs that I was saving for a rainy day :)

First Impressions Are Overrated by  Leslie_Knope | 14.6K

In Stiles’ defense, he didn’t deliberately ram his grocery cart into the (evidently precarious) pyramid of oranges.

Tell Me No More Lies by  TroubleIWant | 4.9K

Derek had sworn to serve the revolution against Queen Katherine knowing full well that the cost of such treason could be dear. He’d thought he was ready to sacrifice anything for freedom… But he wasn’t counting on the sacrifice being his marriage to Stiles.

Help Wanted (But Not Really) by  reillyblack | 20.5K

“Stiles, I’ll clear up your confusion about the position. Derek here needs someone to live with him. He’s a difficult person to live with, so I won’t sugarcoat that. But his responsibilities at the company right now make it impossible for him to actually take care of himself and his home. That would be your job,” Laura explained.

Both Stiles and Derek objected at the same time.

Millstone by  eleanor_lavish | 31.3K

Derek waits until the door is shut behind him before he turns around. He holds out his hand, plants his ‘if you’re not weird about it, I won’t be’ smile on his face and says, “Nice to meet you, Stiles. I’m Michael. What kind of a good time are you looking for tonight?”

Hide by  dr_girlfriend | 12.4K

Stiles has been rejected so many times that it doesn’t really surprise him when it happens again. Hurts, yeah, because dammit — he’d thought Derek was the one. Heartbreak sucks, and he’s not so sure he’s going to get over it this time. 

Misinterpret Me Like Lolita by  KuriKuri | 10.9K

“You don’t even know the course name?” Derek growls after the guy blushes and stutters out an answer, because, Jesus, he thought the university had standards.

And it sounds like the course the guy is describing is his. Isn’t it just his lucky day? No breakfast and another student who doesn’t give a shit about the course material.

This class is going to be hell – he’s calling it now.

Wishful Thinking by  Inell | 2.6K

Stiles needs to learn how to think before he speaks so he doesn’t risk ruining a wonderful friendship with Derek due to his stupid feelings.

The Payoff Pitch by  Leslie_Knope | 83.9K

Derek is on the cusp of his second season with the LA Dodgers, and as the reigning runner-up Rookie of the Year, the pressure’s on him to become the team’s star pitcher and lead them to the playoffs for the first time in five years. He’s trying to deal with the burden of expectations and really has zero desire to spend any extra time or energy on anything that isn’t baseball.

But then he meets Stiles.

Word By Word by  Cobrilee | 11.8K

The first time Derek sees the words, he’s had a really shitty day. Laura was on his case again, all in the name of sisterly love, of course, and Cora was wielding her usual acerbic wit like a rapier. He’d gotten to the scene of a shooting too late and the victim had died before Derek could call for an ambulance. His Camaro had gotten a flat and while he was attempting to change the tire on the side of the road, someone drove by and sent a wave of muddy water arcing, drenching him, and he was cold, muddy, and miserable.

Then, as he was sliding into the front seat after toweling off as best as he could, he felt something prickling on his arm and glanced down. Shaky, thin lines began appearing, little by little, and he could do no more than stare as the infamous phrase formed on his arm.

Are you 18?

Sundae Mornings by  raisesomehale | 5.4K

“Derek had had his doubts when Cora first suggested their family play host to a foreign exchange student from Poland, but it wasn’t until the kid arrived that Derek really began to resent the entire program.

Sure, Stiles Stilinski cleans up after himself – never not a perfect gentleman around the house – and gets straight A’s while still somehow managing to make friends insanely fast. But he’s also cocky and sarcastic; quick witted in a way that can tangle Derek into a neat, flustered little bow with only a few choice quips.

The worst part is that English isn’t even Stiles’ native tongue, and he still manages to be better with it than Derek. Bested at his own damn language.”

Semblance of Hope by  Dexterous_Sinistrous | 14.8K

“Have a drink,” John offered, looking over Derek’s shoulder at the bar. “I know that a certain someone would be happy to see you again.”

Derek turned to look over his shoulder, catching sight of a familiar head of messy hair, pale skin, and moles. The exact person he wanted to see behind the bar.


It had been almost five years since Derek saw Stiles, remembering the last night he saw him. How much of a coward he had been, sneaking out of the room before Stiles could wake. He wasn’t any good—for anyone.

And he knew, more than anything, he didn’t deserve Stiles.

Full On Rainstorm by  BarlowGirl | 10.5K

He catches Derek by the arm and Derek lets himself be turned, surprised when Stiles shoves a small box into his hands. “I don’t know if you still celebrate it or what but… I wanted you to know someone was thinking about you. Happy birthday.”

Then he squeezes Derek’s arm and bolts, gone before Derek can think to stop him.

He opens the box standing there, only to find one singular, misshapen, sloppily-frosted, cupcake, with a candle in the box next to it. It’s kind of squished despite the paper towel all around it to keep it from banging around in the box.

Derek has to take a moment to sit down because yeah, he can’t deny it anymore.

He’s gone on Stiles.

pale-silver-comb  asked:

♥ "Don't go", Sterek.

For you, my dear, I had planned to write some bottom Derek smut, but all my ideas for this had feelings all over them. So I wrote them all instead of picking one. I hope you enjoy it!

Four times Stiles and Derek say “Don’t go,” and two times they are exactly where they want to be (for @pale-silver-comb)

Derek’s voice is sleep roughened but edged with a practiced concerned awareness, gained from too many late night emergency phone calls, “Stiles? What’s wro-”

“Derek!” Sites interrupts with his usual exuberance, tinged with the softened slur of unaccustomed drunkenness, and Derek relaxes marginally as Stiles continues. “How are you man? I haven’ seen you in like- wha’ time izzit?” Stiles whips his phone away from his ear to check the time, but he’s too intoxicated to fight his own momentum and ends up twirling after the arc of his arm, stumbling. He barely manages to catch himself before he falls to the ground, but Derek is on his feet and getting dressed as soon as he hears the muttered “Oh, shit.”

Before he can yell for the human, he hears an honest to god giggle through the tiny speaker, and he relaxes ever so slightly. He can hear the indistinct baseline of something irritating and popular distantly playing in the background, the sound of the wind a low whistle through the phone line, and Stiles, laughing.

“Stiles, where are you?” Derek is grabbing his keys and toeing on shoes as he prepares to collect the human before he can get into trouble. Beacon Hills is relatively safe, if you don’t count the supernatural threats, but a good looking and clearly intoxicated seventeen year old shouldn’t be out wanting the streets at one thirty in the morning.

“I wuzzat a party with Scott. But he left with this girl, an’ he said I shouldn’ stay long, but he was ‘sposed to be my ride, and Der’k, I’m drunk,” he finishes seriously. “I’m drunk, an’ I can’t call my dad, and you’re like, my bes’ friend, an’ your car is awesome, an’ i-“

Derek is caught off guard by the sincerity in Stiles’ voice, but he focuses on the rising panic and cuts him off with a gentle, “Hey, just tell me where you are, I’ll be right there.”

Stiles slurs through his location, and Derek is relieved to hear it’s only a few minutes away. He keeps Stiles talking as he speeds to close the distance faster, and the wave of pure relief that washes over him at the sight of Stiles slumped against a lamppost is like an electric shock.

Stiles pours himself into the passenger seat with more grace than he usually possesses and flashes Derek a grateful smile. He’s more tired and regretful drunk than boisterous drunk now, and he lets his head rest heavily against the seat as Derek drives at a much slower speed toward the Stilinski house.

“Thank you for coming to get me, Der,” Stiles’ voice is clearer, but small sounding, his words not quite their usual crispness. “I’m glad it’s you, because I don’t have to worry about not saying how burning hot Derek is, or how I want him to push me up against a wall and kiss me, because you’re not him, and, oh fuck! You’re you!” he says accusingly, as if Derek had forgotten who he was talking to, and not the other way around.

Derek can feel the hot blush color his ears and flash down his neck at the image Stiles paints with his accidental confession.

“Stiles,” he begins, gently, but Stiles doesn’t let him finish.

“Derek, can we please blame the alcohol and forget that pretty much this whole night happened?”

Derek considers it. Stiles is clearly embarrassed, his scent gone sour and his heartbeat unsteady. It would be easy to ignore it, he’s had plenty of practice ignoring his feelings. But if Stiles wants him, and he doesn’t have to pretend he doesn’t want him back- why should he? “What if I don’t want to?”

Stiles gasps, and it sends a shiver down Derek’s spine. “You- what?”

“We’ll talk when you’re-recovered. Alright?”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles doesn’t sound convinced

After a brief internal argument, Derek reaches over and takes hold of Stiles’ hand and gives a reassuring squeeze. He’s immeasurably gratified when Stiles sighs happily and the tension melts out of him, his scent spiking sharply with contentment, fingers wriggling slightly to settle between Derek’s. Derek can hardly suppress the echoing sigh from his own chest.

Stiles careens back to drunken rambling quick enough to make Derek’s head spin, but since Stiles is now using their clasped hands to gesture as he speaks, he lets a fond smile curl his lips as a steady stream of mostly nonsense tumbles from Stiles’ lips.

As they reach the Stilinski house, Stiles speech has slowed and gone heavy with sleep, Derek tries and fails to not find it endearing, especially in combination with the lazy drag of Stiles’ thumb along the back of his hand. Derek opens the passenger door to assist Stiles in exiting the car, both of them making small surprised sounds when Stiles stumbles and crashes into Derek’s chest. Derek steps back reluctantly, draping Stiles’ arm over his shoulders and holding his waist. Stiles leans heavily against him, murmurs things like “You’re so strong,” and “All that scruff and you’re so soft under the grrr,” as he draws a finger along Derek’s jaw and stares through barely opened eyes gone hazy with sleep and liquor.

Derek manages to get Stiles upstairs and into his bedroom, settles him on the bed and kneels to remove his shoes. Stiles groans above him and something that sounds an awful lot like “Not fair you’re on your knees and I’m too wasted…” and Derek can feel the rush of blood through his entire body as he catches the meaning. By the time Derek is done with Stiles’ shoes, Stiles is flailing above him, half trapped in the sleeves of his shirt. Derek is torn between watching him struggle and helping him, but the strained, frustrated sound Stiles makes pushes him to help. He very pointedly does not look when the overshirt catches his t-shirt, lifting it to reveal a tantalizing strip of creamy pale skin and a hint of hair leading into the waistband of Stiles’ jeans.

As Stiles falls back into the bed, Derek helps to guide him onto the pillow, wrestles the covers from under him and tucks them gently around the sprawling form of Stiles’ body. He can’t help but smooth Stiles’ hair away from his forehead, the gesture hopelessly fond, and Derek is fairly certain he’s never done it so easily before.

Derek turns to leave the room, return to his own bed to try to sleep, knowing the clock will mock him and that all he’ll be able to do is hear Stiles’ drunken declarations on repeat in his head. As he makes to step away from the bed, his feet gone heavy and uncooperative with reluctance, he feels the brush of clumsy fingers at his wrist, wrapping around it in a loose grasp and sending a pleasant tingle through Derek’s arm, settling warmly in his belly.

Stiles’ voice is sleep soft, but steady, the words cutting through Derek painfully, “Don’t go. Please? I don’t want to be alone, I’m always- please. Don’t go.”

In the face of Stiles’ plea, Derek finds himself not only powerless, but having absolutely zero desire to turn back toward the door. The relieved whimper that Stiles releases as Derek drops gently onto the edge of the bed and turns his hand so their palms meet, threading their fingers back together, is like a punch and an embrace all at once.

They wake in the morning wrapped around each other, and it’s shockingly easy to smile at each other as they untangle their twined limbs.


When Derek is visiting Cora, his phone rings, and he smiles at the ridiculous picture Stiles set as his profile. “Hey, you,” he answers fondly, voice going soft and light like it always did now that he and Stiles were DerekandStiles. It quickly bleeds into panic tinged concern at the hitch in Stiles’ breath; the realization that Stiles has been fighting tears, has a reason to be, is a painful weight in Derek’s chest. “What’s wrong, Stiles. What is it?” His urgency is a palpable thing, an uncomfortable sizzle under his skin.

Stiles releases a shuddering breath, “God, I will never not appreciate how the sound of your voice makes everything feel better.” Derek’s worry is ameliorated slightly by the knowledge that he’s a comfort for the hyperactive human he calls his mate.

“I’m glad to hear that, babe, but what’s going on?”

“You’re going to hate it,” Stiles is hesitant, his voice is tinged with uncertainty, and Derek wishes he were there to wrap his arms around Stiles, to hold him and reassure. He makes an affirmative, encouraging sound, “Try me,” he says with more enthusiasm than he feels.

“So, there’s this… thing. Some kind of monster. We haven’t figured it out yet…” Stiles goes on, details a truly horrible plan, one that relies heavily on Scott’s frankly laughable leadership and Stiles as some kind of glorified bait. It’s a shit plan, and Derek does in fact hate it. Hates it so much he’s growling, actually, and it takes Stiles’ pleading “Der, please,” to break him out of it, to wash the red tinge from his vision.

All Derek can do is choke out a pained “Don’t go!” He knows it’s desperate and can’t bring himself to care, “Stiles, please. Please don’t go. This plan is fucking terrible. You know it is. I will get on a plane, I will be there tomorrow morning, just wait. Don’t go, any of you, but you can’t. Please?” He’s begging, and will continue to beg until Stiles agrees, “I can’t lose you. Don’t go. Remember, the night we started this? You asked me the same thing, please, Stiles.”

“Ok, Der, ok, ok. I won’t go. Please, don’t cry. I won’t go.”

Derek takes a deep breath, it catches in his chest, but he pushes past it, “Thank you. Thank you thank you, thank god.”

Derek is on a plane two hours later. Twelve hours after that, Stiles is in his arms; unruly hair sweet smelling and tickling his nose, wide, smiling lips pressed into his own.


When Derek needs to leave Beacon Hills, Stiles understands, he really, truly does. But it also feels like he’s being slowly pulled apart.

They stand quietly in Derek’s loft, silently embracing, Stiles still in his dressy graduation clothes, intermittent tears running down both their faces, until Stiles grips the front of Derek’s shirt tightly, hauls him impossibly close to devour his mouth in a desperate kiss. Their teeth clack, and their tongues swirl together in practiced rhythm, lips dragging slick and wet together. A great, sob of a moan tears out of Stiles’ throat and he buries his face in Derek’s neck.

“I can’t ask you, I know I can’t, but I want to, Der. I want to ask you to stay with me. I want to beg you. To scream ‘Don’t go!’ But I won’t. You deserve to go, to be ha- to find happiness, even if-”

Derek feels his heart breaking; hurting Stiles is killing him. He can’t bear the ache in Stiles’ voice, the sorrow laced through his scent. “Come with me,” rushes past his lips with force and sincerity, and he can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before.

Stiles looks at him, hopeful but unsure, so he kisses the confusion off his face, cradles his jaw with careful hands. “I mean it, Stiles. It’s summer, you don’t start school for months. Come with me. Please?”

The smile that breaks over Stiles’ face is bright and honest, it’s everything Derek loves about the boy.

“Yeah. Ok, yeah, let’s go,” Stiles replies eagerly, peppering Derek’s face with kisses, hands restlessly petting as thigh assuring himself Derek is still there.

Derek laughs lightly, “I thought maybe we’d have a last go in a real bed, before it’s all motel rooms and truck stops for a while. And you know, pack, first.”

Stiles makes a considering sound, “Both good things. I’m especially interested in the first part,” he grins as he grabs Derek’s hands, walking backwards toward the bed.


Two and a half incredible months later, they’re laying naked in a motel bed, tangled together and still catching their breath, trailing gentle fingertips over one another’s faces, cataloging details. Preparing for time apart.

Stiles’ half packed suitcase sits on a luggage stand across the room, taunting them with the short time they have left measured out in clean and dirty socks.

Derek traces the curve of Stiles’ mouth, their eyes searching, but unwilling to leave the others gaze for more than a second or two. “You know-” the words are stuck in his throat, heavy on his tongue, he clears them away with a hard swallow, “I want to ask you. I guess it’s my turn to know better, huh?” He laughs without a traces of humor, and Stiles kisses his furrowed brow, smooths it with a long finger.

“You’re not ready to not be moving, and Berkley is pretty stationary, babe,” Stiles answers easily, his voice tinged with regret. “I understand,”he says, quieter than the rest, but without a stutter in his heartbeat, and Derek would know it’s true even without the added senses. Because Stiles understands Derek probably better than Derek does, and the loss of his constant presence is already aching dully in his chest.

“I’m going to have to say it. Just once. It’s practically tradition, now,” Derek attempts to joke, but the truth is it feels like the words are tearing at his throat.

Stiles kisses him, long and slow, as if to cool the burn of the things he can’t say. It almost works. They part reluctantly, hands and lips both clinging together, and it breaks out of him with a sob, “Don’t go.”

Stiles gathers him close, let’s Derek bury his face in his chest, strokes his back in soothing circles and holds his neck. “I have to,” he says simply, pressing kisses to Derek’s head. “But I promise I’ll always come back to you, wherever you are, until you’re ready.”

When they wake some time later, Stiles has to leave. Derek drives him to the bus station, because Stiles wouldn’t let him set a foot in California until he was ready to. Derek isn’t sure he will be, but he wishes he was now so he could steal those last miles with him.


They wake to cool morning light filtered through the curtains, and the muted sound of a cell phone ringing in the other room.

It’s been six months since they last got to wake up together, and it feels indulgent and surreal all at once. Video chats and constant phone calls and texts are an ok way to bridge the distance, but there is nothing so wonderful as waking up like this. Sleep warm skin and muscled limbs tangled together, warm breath on the back of his neck. Stiles is afraid it’s a dream.

Derek wakes, runs his nose along Stiles neck and places a long, hot kiss there. “Morning,” he says sleepily, arms tightening briefly before he shifts in the bed. Stiles panics, grabs Derek’s forearms in suddenly shaking hands, “Don-.”

Before he can finish, Derek is wrapping himself around him again, “Not going anywhere, babe. You’re not either.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, calms his heartbeat. “Sounds perfect, because I have plans for us that don’t involve leaving this bed unless it’s to hydrate or pee.”

Derek laughs into Stiles’ shoulder, the sound rich and deep, the rumble in his chest echoes through Stiles’ chest pleasantly. “I like the sound of that.”


A small cry pierces the predawn quiet, and Stiles and Derek startle awake at the same time. They blink tiredly at one another for a moment, taking time to acclimate and assess.

Stiles smiles at Derek, notices the slight greying of his still artful stubble, the lines starting to show around his eyes that he knows are from laughter instead of worry.

Derek smiles back, taking in the defined jawline, and the more beard than stubble that his husband has favored these last few years.

They say in unison “I’ll go,” and then laugh, kiss. Let it linger just a moment until the baby reminds them why they’re awake so early. Stiles places a quick kiss on Derek’s cheek, runs his thumb over his jaw briefly.

“You got her down last time, it’s my turn. Go back t’ sleep.” Derek makes a sound that Stiles takes as agreement, and he heads to the nursery across the hall, scooping up the small, unhappy bundle from the crib and settling her against his chest.

When Derek stumbles in moments later, Stiles is in the rocking chair, cradling their daughter and dozing slightly. Derek crosses the distance with a few long strides and moves to take the baby from her current Daddy shaped pillow and back to her own bed, intending to do the same with Stiles after, when he feels familiar fingertips against his wrist.

He looks down to where Stiles is holding him, turns his palm so their fingers thread together with the ease of years of practice. They smile at one another for long moments, until the sun starts to rise and add a warm glow to the soft lilac walls.

Little One

 Requested by @phasiion : I was wondering if you could do a Derek Hale imagine where Y/N is mad at him and because that she’s so short (compared to him and generally vary short in general) He finds her so adorable and ends up laughing even more which angers her more.

 Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader 

 Word count: 870

 “Stiles, I won’t say again. Tell this werewolf to let me out RIGHT NOW!” You yell at your best friend, pointing a finger at Derek.

 The thing is: This unknown pack just invaded Beacon Hills and Derek’s job is to keep you and Stiles out of danger. You have no idea why the Alpha is babysitting you while Scott is out there doing God knows what. Probably it was his choice, but you don’t care. You have a party to go and Derek is forbidding you to step out the bedroom.

 He stands at the door, like an enormous wall. You stand right before him, raising your head a bit to look into his eyes.


 “(Y/N), c'mon, let’s just watch cute videos and wait for Scott to call or something.” Stiles pulls your arm, but of course, you violently push him away, making him fall awkwardly. You hold back a laugh and keep staring at Derek.

 “Listen, werewolf. I don’t need a babysit. I have somewhere to go and you will move from this stupid door!” You’re screaming again, and you notice a shadow of a smile on Derek’s lips. He’s handsome as hell, but you try not to let this fact distract you.

 “There’s a whole pack out there. It’s too dangerous. Plus, it’s full moon and that means you’re not going anywhere until sunrise.” Derek’s voice is low, like a command.

 You would kiss him again like you did last night, but you’re just mad at him. How can you be in love with this pain in the ass? Maybe you should kiss him with your fist.

 “Derek, I’m not kidding. I will throw something at this pretty face of yours.” You check Stiles’ bedroom for anything heavy enough, and you choose his chair. You try to raise it over your head, but Derek grabs the chair and puts it down.

 “I wouldn’t do this if I were you.” He’s looking down, lifting your chin so he can see your eyes. You slap his hand away from you. “You should be mad at me more often, it makes you look cute.”

 “Excuse me?” Your voice is arrogant because you do feel insulted. You’re thinking about killing him while he thinks you’re cute.

 “Oh my, now she’ll set my house on fire.” Stiles jumps on his bed, pulling the blanket over his head so he won’t witness you murdering Derek Hale.

 “Repeat.” You hiss, taking a deep breath.

 “You should be mad at me more often, it makes you look cute.” He has a stupid smile on his face, and before you can think you try to slap him right in the face, but he holds your wrist. “See? You’re so little, anything makes you look cute.”

 “It’s not my…” You struggle to get your hand free, and when you do, you try to slap him again, failing. “…fault you’re this tall!”

 “That’s why I like you.” Derek moves, throwing you over his shoulder. “I can carry you easily.”

 “I HATE YOU, DEREK! YOU WILL PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!” You command, pushing his back while he leaves the room carrying you.

 “Pleeeeease if you’ll gonna kill each other do it on the floor. Keep my couch clean! You guys know how blood stains everything!” Stiles screams from his bedroom but you and Derek just ignore him. Well, you’re too angry to give a shit about anything now.

 “Derek, I want you to PUT ME DOWN.”

 “Keep your voice down, (Y/N).”

 “Stop telling me what to do!”  He puts you down and you try to run to the front door but Derek grabs your arm.

 “Just brought you here to eat something.” He lowers his voice, lifting your chin again. “Or to have some time alone with you, little one.”

 “Don’t call me that.” Whispering, you avoid his gaze. “I have a party to go.”

 “You’re not going anywhere.” Before you can say anything, Derek’s lips meet yours abruptly.

 You can’t help but surrender to his kiss for a while, but them you manage to push him away. Catching your breath, you keep your hands on his chest, in a stupid attempt to keep him from kissing you again.

 “Your kiss is amazing, don’t get me wrong, but I’m still mad so don’t do that.” He gets closer again, your hands slowly moving until they’re wrapped around his neck. “If I let you kiss me you’ll allow me to go?”


 You don’t let him finish, you just push him away and run back to Stiles’ bedroom.

 “Fine them. You’re free to think I’m cute, but I’m still mad at you!” You yell at Derek while you run, soon reaching the bedroom.

 “What? Did you manage to kill him already?”

 “Shut up, Stiles!” You kick his back, making him roll on the bed and fall to the ground. “I didn’t kill him, you idiot!”

 “Just because she loves me.” Derek shuts the door close, sitting on the same chair you were planning to throw at him.

 “Shut. Up.” You cross your arms on your chest, jumping on Stiles bed making an angry face at Derek. “I love you but just shut up now.”

 “Love you too, little one.”


#stiles texting scott about derek probably (tag via raisesomehale; original post)

I saw this and I couldn’t help myself. The pick up line Derek uses is from this installment of the Stiles Pick Up Lines series by teamsciles. Bc it’s been stuck in my head as a go-to bad pick up line for at least a month now lol. Don’t ask why I have a go-to bad pick up line.

(Read on AO3) 

“Dude, no.”

“You haven’t seen him Scott,” Stiles tells his friend over the phone. He’s attempting to use his menu as a partition and peering around the edges conspicuously to make sure Unfairly Attractive Waiter isn’t lurking nearby. He looks as though he could be a lurker. But like…in a good way.

“I don’t have to see him to know that you’re about to get overly attached, completely bomb, and spend the next week on my couch with one of those extra-large pizzas from Antonio’s.”

“That seems like a hasty assumption,” he mutters under his breath.

“Allison is coming home tomorrow, Stiles. I can’t babysit you.”

“You should probably tone on the judginess right now. Allison has literally only been gone for three days, and you’ve been talking like you’re in the Sahara and she’s the last glass of water on the planet.” Stiles pushes the menu down flat onto the table and splays his hand across the center fold. “Also. I resent the implication that I am in need of a nanny when in distress.”

“You’re in need of a nanny on a good day,” Scott tells him flatly. “In distress, you need an entire daycare center.”

“Shit!” Stiles whispers harshly. “He’s coming back, bro. I gotta jet.”

“Stiles! Make sure you don’t say ‘gotta jet’ at any point in the conversation! Stil—”

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frostniskare  asked:

A prompt for Valentine fic, if you don't mind c: So: first time Stiles gets a date for Valentine, detailed plans and all, but that morning he's being stood up and shit goes down with a new baddy, so he's kind of freaking done, and he also gets hurt (but not too much) so Derek, feeling how much he's sad and angry, since Der called him there, decides to make up for it even with his awkward social skills and angry eyebrows. Cool date (and sex, if you're up to) ensues. HAPPY ENDING yeah c: Thanks c:

Also on ao3!

Stiles brought the bat down on the kelpie’s head again with a sickeningly wet thud. He raised it only to slam it back down on the creature’s pulverized cranium, bone cracking under the overzealous assault.

The rest of the pack looked on in a mix of horror and morbid fascination as Stiles continued to literally beat the dead supernatural horse. Black blood seeped out of the kelpie’s many various wounds, painting the rocky riverside with dark gore, the moss stained by the dark blood.

After a couple hikers had been reported missing in the preserve earlier that day, the pack had spent hours trying to figure out what had happened, attempting to decide whether or not there was a supernatural component or not. Their suspicions had intensified when the hiker’s dead bodies were found downstream, pre-mortem slashes and bruises covering them, fluid in their lungs indicating that they had drowned.

It was Stiles who had come to the conclusion that a kelpie was responsible for the deaths of the couple, pointing out the hoof shaped contusions on one of the men’s chests. Derek deeming it very plausible, the pack had taken to the preserve, searching the area in which the hikers had gone missing for any sign of the kelpie.

After over two hours of canvassing the area, searching for the creature, it had made its whereabouts known by bellowing out a deafening roar when Isaac got a little too close to the river where it was residing. In response, Isaac had thrown his head back and howled for reinforcements while trying to fight off the crazed kelpie.

The rest of the pack had arrived in time to save Isaac from getting his skull crushed by one of the kelpie’s hooves, Derek tugging him out of harm’s way with a ferocious roar of his own. The alpha had received a lash to his face from the kelpie’s whip-like tail of seaweed for his troubles, a line of blood smattered across his face as he flashed his bright red eyes at the kelpie.

With the pack surrounding it, the kelpie had become even more aggressive, lashing out at them whenever one of them so much as breathed, leaving almost all of them wounded, dragging a few of them into the river with it as it attempted to escape. Crawling out of the frigid water, Stiles had ended things with one fell swing of his bat, the kelpie collapsing on the riverbank with a loud thump, but once Stiles started, he couldn’t stop.

He was pissed. It was Valentine’s Day and there he was in the middle of the preserve, soaking wet with his side throbbing from where the kelpie had scratched him with the sharp edge of one of its hooves.

He grunted as he continued his assault on the kelpie’s skull, the rest of the pack wincing each time he landed a blow on the kelpie’s head, eyes riveted to the gut-wrenching scene. Eventually, after several excruciating minutes of the violence, a hand shot out to grab the bat, sparing the kelpie corpse another hit and stopping Stiles in his tracks

“What?!” Stiles growled, snapping his head up to meet Peter’s eyes, baring his teeth in a human snarl, panting heavily as he tightened his grip on the bat. Peter just rolled his eyes at him with a snort.

“As much as I am a fan of unnecessary violence, this―” he waved his hand to indicate the kelpie’s dead body, black blood seeping out of its demolished skull “―is just plain excessive,” Peter drawled with a judgemental grimace. He dropped his right hand, wrinkling his nose at the sticky black blood covering his palm before wiping it off on the side of his designer jeans. Turning back to Stiles, he casually suggested, “Now, why don’t we just wash up and spend the rest of the evening having rough, wild sex, hmm?”

“In your dreams,” Stiles spat viciously, straightening up and squaring his shoulders, narrowing his eyes at the smirking werewolf. He was in no mood for Peter’s perverted little teasing.

“Well, yes. But that doesn’t quite answer my question,” Peter pointed out, raking his half-lidded eyes over Stiles’ body, not bothering to conceal his blatant interest. Stiles rolled his eyes, freezing stock still when Peter tacked on, “One would think that after getting stood up this morning you would be more than happy to jump into bed with someone as good-looking as myself.”

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You're the Riddle of the Century

by stayingputwouldbeablunder (AO3)

Pairing: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski


Word count: 45k

Rating: Mature

Summary: “Okay,” Stiles says, drawing out the y. “Well, I’ve gotta go, Derek. Plenty more clueless individuals like yourself waiting to learn how to operate the majestic electronic device you hold in your hands.”

“I’m not holding it.” Derek doesn’t know why he does it but he waggles his fingers in front of the camera; the tablet is propped up against his legs. “See?”

Stiles rolls his eyes, smiling. “Goodbye, Derek. And thanks for calling Amazon today. Catch you on the flip side.”

“Bye, Stiles.”

Oh shit.

In which Stiles is a tech advisor for Amazon and Derek really loveshates his Kindle.

Read Here!

Originally posted by minsmochi

I did a prompt with Ked tonight! (this looks like this was maybe meant to be a quote from something, but I couldn’t find it so this is what I did, hope you like it! *throws it at you and runs*)

The bounce of the ball against concrete reverberated against the steel wall to Derek’s left, leaving an echo. He dribbled the basketball around the edges of his makeshift court for a moment, relishing in memories. Catching the ball on the next bounce, he lifted it into the air and shot it at the hoop he’d installed into the side of his building.


Derek caught the scent as he picked up the ball, rolling his eyes. He let ball drop into a dribble as he turned around to see Stiles leaning against the wall.

“What are you doing here?”

“What, I like basketball.” At Derek’s disbelieving look, Stiles continued. “Hey! I’m pretty good even.”

Derek snorted.

“I’ll prove it.” Stiles wiggled his eyebrows playfully. “I’ll take that from you.” He nodded toward the ball.

Raising his eyebrows, Derek caught the ball and let it rest atop his palm. “You think you can get the ball from me?”

Stiles nodded smugly, lifting off from the wall.

“No,” Derek said, shaking his head. “Not gonna happen. Just go away.” He turned his back to Stiles, dribbling away from him.

“Ooh, big wolf is scared I’ll show him up,” Stiles taunted, still moving closer.

Don’t do it, he thought as he did it, turning back to Stiles and waving one hand in the universal “well go ahead then” gesture.

Stiles grinned.

Dropping his weight onto the balls of his feet, Stiles slithered closer, coming toward him in an arc. Derek watched him through narrow eyes, dribbling the ball at his side.

When he was just a couple feet away, Stiles lunged. In a feat of epic clumsiness of which Derek was certain only Stiles was capable, he went down, tripping over his own feet. He hit the ground and rolled over, shouting and clutching at his shin.

Derek moved toward him without thinking, basketball forgotten.

“Fuck! I think it’s bro- Call! Call Scott!” Stiles shouted, groaning and rolling away from Derek, face scrunched in pain.

Scott? Derek wasn’t sure how Scott could help, but he moved past Stiles toward where his jacket and phone were sitting on the ground. It took him far more steps than he was proud to admit to realize he didn’t smell any pain. Derek stopped, exhaling sharply.

By the time he turned around, Stiles was off the ground and closing his hands around the ball Derek had let roll away. He twisted around ungracefully to meet Derek’s gaze, dribbling the ball with the most shit-eating grin Derek had ever seen.

“Told ya.”

Derek launched forward, catching Stiles’ shoulders and pushing him back against the fence behind him, the metal clanging together as it absorbed their force.

“You cheated,” Derek growled.

Smirking, Stiles pressed forward. “I might have played a little dirty,” he admitted. “You can take a little dirty, can’t you Hale?”

Dropping his hands from Stiles’ shoulders to run down his sides, Derek leaned in. “I’ll take that,” he started, capturing Stiles’ lips briefly as the man groaned. “From you.”

The basketball bounced away, forgotten.

sterek fics of the week

Wild Horses by the psychicclam [E] [78917]

Derek’s a drifter with no home, no destination, and no will to live. Stiles works on his family’s failing cattle and horse ranch while all his friends are going off to college. When Derek falls asleep in a random barn, exhausted and half-starved, he doesn’t expect to wake up on the other end of the sheriff’s shotgun. And Stiles sure as hell doesn’t expect his dad to invite the drifter in for breakfast.

You’re the Riddle of the Century by stayingputwouldbeablunder [M] [45700]

“Okay,” Stiles says, drawing out the y. “Well, I’ve gotta go, Derek. Plenty more clueless individuals like yourself waiting to learn how to operate the majestic electronic device you hold in your hands.”

“I’m not holding it.” Derek doesn’t know why he does it but he waggles his fingers in front of the camera; the tablet is propped up against his legs. “See?”

Stiles rolls his eyes, smiling. “Goodbye, Derek. And thanks for calling Amazon today. Catch you on the flip side.”

“Bye, Stiles.”

Oh shit.

In which Stiles is a tech advisor for Amazon and Derek really loveshates his Kindle.

Someone to Watch Over Me by Saucery [T] [4244]

Derek is a broody mafioso. Stiles is a gutsy newsboy. They fall in love.

Sea Foam and Sunshine by Jenetica [T] [19838]

Derek’s job at as a lifeguard is dull, sometimes, but he saves lives, and after everything that happened with Kate, that’s all he needs. So when he sees a swimmer out after closing hours, too far into the deeps to be safe, he plunges into the water without thought.

He didn’t know at the time that maybe, just maybe, this time it was his own life that he was saving.

If We’re Talking Body (You Got a Perfect One) by alisvolatpropiis [E] [3891]

“What? Paint me?” At first, Stiles thinks that maybe Derek wants to paint a portrait of him, which is hella freaking weird, but then, judging by the heat he sees in his eyes, he knows that’s not exactly what Derek has in mind. Okay, so the guy is hot, talented, rude, and probably a little insane. Stiles is really regretting not running background checks on all of the building’s tenants before moving in. Laura Hale offered him such a good deal, he should have known there was a catch.

Like having to live underneath her obscenely hot brother who gets stoned and paints all night and says ridiculous things to the half-naked cop that barges into his apartment unannounced in the middle of the night.

lololovescheese  asked:

Sterek + amnesia + fake marriage Cause I'm greedy


send me sterek + a trope and i’ll list any headcanons I have for it!

  • my first thought was how the hell do I make these two tropes coincide aND THEN-
  • Spy au???
  • Hear me out though
  • let’s say stiles is an “argent” spy. honestly he would be the biggest geek about it off the clock.
  • but clocked in and working, he gets down to fucking business. ready and willing and fucking dedicated to a fault.
  • so when, one day, stiles wakes up in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, to the shouted words of an unfamiliar man in the doorway, he takes a moment to orientate himself, and then fuckin’ rolls with it
  • Gerard has a rather unorthodox way of running his agency. This wouldn’t be the first time stiles was dropped off into an undercover case with no warning.
  • his training at the agency covers how to quickly assimilate (or smth)
  • (but like, at least he was conscious the last time something like this happened. sheesh.)
  • still:
  • rolling with it.
  • The unfamiliar man has thick eyebrows and scruffy facial hair, and tells him they’ve “been called in” while throwing clothes at stiles
  • they get into the car and take off. This must be a new agent, stiles has never seen him before. Why haven’t they told me the mission?
  • the guy asks, “how’d you sleep?”
  • and stiles says “hmm?” Because instead of listening, he was watching a town he does not recognize at ALL go by outside the window
  • He reaches for his phone- and stops. “Did you see my phone?”
  • One of those thick eyebrows raises. “Did you remember to grab it off the charger?”
  • And stiles, internally, is going “???????” Like of course I wouldn’t remember don’t you know, weren’t you TOLD that I was going in blind?
  • He shrugs, “guess not.”

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anonymous asked:

With the new trailer dropping today, the one thing I don't get with Jackson, Ethan, Derek, and Stiles coming back is why would they want to help Scott? Also, how long did JD have to stay on his knees to get those actors to agree to come back for the shit show of a final season? Sorry for the potty mouth.

I really hope Jackson just came back so he could roll his eyes at Scott, call him a testicle, then walk away again. 

I’ve missed you, asshole Jackson. 

“Do you even like dating him?” Cora asks. It sounds a little curious, but mostly like an accusation. Feels a little bit like being in the third grade again, somebody demanding if he likes boy bands.

Derek looks over at her. Her arms are crossed. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, a very Meg Ryan look on her face. He thinks about answering. Then he says, “Do you like dating Zach?”

“Zach is polite to me,” Cora says immediately, and sure. That’s a good point. Stiles does, in fact, treat Derek like his irritatingly bookish lab partner from time to time. On a bad day, Derek will end up trying to whack him with a ladle.

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Teen Wolf AU: Stiles starts speaking in innuendos around Derek. And making lewd suggestions. And calling him pet names. And generally being more obnoxious than ever, really. It picks up a couple months into post-nogitsune recovery; he figures this is how Stiles has to cope with the way their friendship was forced to grow after the revelation that, holy shit, Derek would die for him.

          It’s not like the epiphany was a walk in the park for Derek, either. After all, he’d been the one bleeding out on the floor.

          (While Scott had roared over his aching body, taking up a defensive stance to give Derek time to heal, he remembers thinking vaguely, ‘But I don’t even like Stiles,’ and wondering when that changed.)

          It’s only when they’re alone, though, and they are sometimes. No one’s really eager to let anyone else out of their sight in the aftermath, and when Stiles ends up alone he consequently ends up at Derek’s, instead. Part of him wonders if Scott put him up to it all, maybe to scare Derek out of the pack, but that’s probably his old paranoia rearing its head in the midst of insecurity. The thing is, he doesn’t know how many more times he can ignore Stiles’ blatant behavior, how many more times he can let it roll off his back. Derek has put up with a lot these past few years but being made fun of for the sport of some seventeen-year-old is where he draws the line; if this is Stiles’ chosen road to recovery, he can follow it somewhere else.

          Just when Derek thinks it’s tapered off, that Stiles will finally resort to his former, tried and true antics–ones that Derek can counter easily, ones that don’t involve Stiles bending over at every opportunity and a constant barrage of compliments to various parts of Derek’s body–he starts doing it in front of Scott. Scott, their alpha, Stiles’ best friend, who’s less than amused. To Derek’s surprise, Scott’s pique comes from the idea that they’re hiding a secret relationship from him rather than the potential of an actual relationship between the two of them. But an actual relationship– with Stiles? It’s ridiculous.

          Except, if Derek’s honest with himself, maybe it isn’t.

anonymous asked:

petition to give stiles stilinski a new best friend, because scott mccall doesn't deserve him. theo raeken may be considered a 'villain', but he did pretty much everything to tear stiles away from scott's abusive clutches and make him realize what a shitty friend (and shitty alpha) scott was to him. anyone but scott and the likes of him (gerard and deucalion) would be just fine :)

100% BEHIND THIS IDEA.(It’s sad how Theo was a villain but still a better  friend than Scott…) AND MY PROPOSAL FOR THE NEWLY VACANT “BEST FRIEND” POSITION IS JACKSON.

In my headcannon, Stiles and Jackson would become best friends when the Hale Pack moves to Paris. Like, Jackson is one of the only people that’d be able to keep up with Stiles’ snark and counter with his own sarcastic remarks (They’d be salt bros lol). Jackson would also call out Stiles’ shit if need be, and give super blunt but useful advice (”Just ask Derek out. I mean, the worst Derek can do is glare at you with his caterpillar eyebrows and say no.” “He does have nice eyebrows.” “Stiles, focus or I’m leaving.”) Also, Jackson and Stiles are both competitive af, so you bet your ass when Jackson finally gets with Isaac, there’d be arguments of “who has the better boyfriend” 

Yeah, Stiles and Jackson would be great friends :’)

anonymous asked:

OH MY GOSH. Please please would you write this for sterek....i’m a prince/ss and you’re my bodyguard and we’re so not supposed to bang but we kind of did anyways” au (bonus: limo sex is great sex)

okay okay okay SO. i wrote this prompt today, in like this huge rush of wow omg i am inspired. and then i realised as i looked over it just that i wrote “i’m a prince/ss and you’re my bodyguard and we’re not supposed to fall in love. kinda of thing. so i apologise but there is no limo sex. i kept trying to bring it around once i realised, but like, this just went in another direction. sorry. (i can write it? if you know, people so desire? could totes do like a part two?) but anyway here’s 9k of not limo!sex but bodyguard in love with a prince and bickering and affection ensues. just a heads up.


“Stiles, come on, we’re going to be late!” Derek glances at his watch again, looks towards the open door of the palace where Erica is leaning against the frame looking bored. “At least try and look like you’re a professional,” he hisses to her.

Erica rolls her eyes, but straightens up, sliding on her shades as she does, “You know he hates it when we stand on ceremony.”

“It’s not your job to pander to his every whim; it’s your job to protect him.”

“Hey!” Stiles appears from the front drawing room, dressed to the nines and adjusting his shirt cuffs. “I heard that, and it is an absolute lie. You are definitely here to pander to my every whim and desire.” He smirks as he gives Derek a once over (one that Derek refuses to let bother him), “And, you’re doing a fine job in that suit, I must say.”

Derek rolls his eyes, “Get in the car.”

“Is that any way to talk to your prince regent? The national treasure?”

Please, get in the car, your highness,” Derek adds, narrowing his eyes, “Better?”

“I can think of about fifty ways you could make it better,” Stiles leers at him, “Maybe if you took off your—”

“Alright,” Derek interrupts, places a firm hand on Stiles’ back and tries not to forcibly push him out of the front door.

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September ‘15. a very long list of coffee shop aus I’ve read. my bootleg rec page can’t really be considered a bootleg rec page without coffee shop aus. 

* = fics that could use lots more love and appreciation! 

Love how idiotic these two are in this. And the Sheriff<33:  

All Stirred Up by jsea, marguerite_26 (13/13 | 49,430 | Explicit)

Derek’s first duty as a new deputy is the early morning coffee run to The Leaky Carafe, and it’s not long before he discovers that the quirky barista has a knack for making the perfect drink. Every time. Even before you order.

But is it intuition, luck or magic that has all Stiles’ customers leaving happy?

Not even coffee, but so perfect!: 

be my dar(jee)ling by takeittothestars (2/2 | 5,393 | Mature)

‘You alright there? Need any help?’ someone from behind him says, and Derek startles badly from where he’s been judging the tea (Cardamom with ginger for Sherlock Holmes? And almonds for Jack Harkness? Really?). The person laughs when he knocks over a few tins, and Derek knows that laugh. Sure enough, he looks up as he puts Moriartea back on the shelf and it’s Stiles fucking Stilinski, #24 on the lacrosse team and captain of Derek’s heart since he dropped Cora off at a game once, the cutest, hottest thing on the planet since – since – since ever, if Derek’s honest with himself.

-A tea shop AU in which Derek is an editor, Stiles works in a tea shop, both are dumb, and there is tea. For this prompt


Your Sass Is All the Syrup I Need by broadcastdelay (1/1 | 8,906 | Teen)

Derek is a grumpy hipster barista (in Portland, the natural home of his kind). Stiles develops a taste for such things.

This is so great!! Totally underrated! Deserves all the lovee<3333 :

*Large Black Coffee, To Go by sunnydalewerewolf (1/1 | 5,183 | Mature)

Derek is Stiles’ favorite actor, Stiles works in a coffee shop frequented by Laura, and everyone is kind of an asshole.

Also deserves a ton of love!! So cute!!: 

*All Hale Pastries by NikaNielson (1/1 | 1,622 | Teen) 

After Cora drops out of a cooking competition at the last minute, Stiles tries to convince Derek to take her place.

I’m always a slut for tattooed and pierced up Stiles and that sequel tho!:

Queer Your Coffee by alisvolatpropiis (1/1 | 3,084 | NR)

Derek’s just over the city line when he sees a sign for an independent drive-thru place, Full Spectrum Brew. There are three cars in line when he turns in, which annoys him but gives him hope. Not that he really trusts the people of Beacon Hills to have much taste when it comes to coffee (god, he is a snob), but the shop’s popularity does seem to bode well. The line of cars moves way more slowly than he’d like, each customer in front of him seeming to take way too long to order, and then lingering when they get their coffee. He’s irritable from lack of sleep and an even more detrimental lack of caffeine, anxious to get out of the car. Finally it’s his turn and he slowly rolls up to the window, turning the radio down.

For a second, he thinks he must have fallen asleep while he was waiting, because what he sees when he looks in the window surely must be a dream.

Stunning brown eyes like glowing honey and sweet little nose, slightly upturned; a shapely pink mouth, bottom-lip pierced by a thin black hoop that he’s worrying with the tip of his tongue as he smiles a gorgeous hello.

He’s the most beautiful man Derek’s ever seen.

And he’s shirtless.

Melting into a puddle of cute:

expresso yourself by wearing_tearing (1/1 | 3,149 | Teen)

Derek can say he ever expected something like this to happen when he agreed to work at Expresso Yourself, his family’s coffee shop.

And by that he means he never expected Hollywood’s new favorite actor, Stiles Stilinski, to burst through his doors at seven-thirty in the morning, wide-eyed and scared, with the collar of his shirt ripped off.


Red Lights Already Off by KuriKuri (1/1 | 3,375 | Teen)

Stiles isn’t a hooker. He just plays one on TV.


*Love is a Sneeze Away by mandysimo13 (1/1 | 1,833 | NR) 

Stiles is allergic to dogs. Bad news for doggy day care employee, Derek Hale.

Fluffy as hell!:

*Name for the Order? by katnisskirk (1/1 | 2,456 | NR)

AU. Stiles is a barista and Derek is a customer who regularly comes in while talking on the phone so Stiles repeatedly (intentionally) mishears his name.


The Customer Ain’t Always Right by trilliath (1/1 | 2,273 | Gen.)

Today’s the day. He’s gonna do it. He’s actually going to (as Cora says) “speak words like a normal human and talk” to (as Cora has designated him) Cute Coffee Boy.
- Or he would, if it weren’t for this asshole cutting in line.


*HMMARCW by elumish (1/1 | 6,242 | Teen) 

“My student thinks that all werewolves have to turn on the full moon. That we debunked seventy-five years ago. What the hell is he doing, living with his head in a bucket of bees?”

It looks like werewolf-dude’s mouth twitches. “It’s probably difficult to write an essay with your head in a bucket of bees.”


Freebies by Saucery (1/1 | 1,215 | Teen)

Stiles can’t figure out why people keep dropping, spilling or breaking things in his presence. And offering him free stuff. Like, what the heck?

Silly Dorks:

*i’m constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you by trilliastra (1/1 | 4,044 | Teen)

In which Derek is a writer and has a crush on Stiles, they talk about skydiving and getting tattoos, and Laura Hale is awesome.

Sooo cutee:

Now You’re Too Sweet by agent_izhyper (1/1 | 6,648 | Gen.)

In which Stiles is thoroughly confused and awkwardly misinterprets the situation, and has fallen in love with Derek’s heavenly baked goods before he even knew (let alone fell for) Derek Hale. Also, first meetings are a mess and the universe hates him, but nothing new there, right?

Awkward cuteness: 

*Sexy as Charged by inkblott (1/1 | 6,293 | Teen) 

If you asked Stiles what he planned on doing with his life, failing so epically hard was not one of them. And okay, you could argue, that his life was kind of a fail. Being the only 19 year old virgin that he knew was a bummer sometimes, but you’d never notice unless you asked.


He has no idea how it’s managed to get to this point in time, and he really fucking regrets getting out of bed this morning. I mean, he didn’t even have class, which was a once in a blue moon kind of thing, but he still thought, “Hey, it’s a nice morning, I’m not dead, the sun is shining, I might as well get some coffee.” What. An. Idiot.

Well. It wasn’t an altogether bad day. There were definitely some high points.

GAH!! dying cuz sooo adorableee and fluffy!!!!:

Not Exactly My Cup of Coffee by officerstilinskihale (1/1 | 4,610 | Teen)

Stiles buried his face in his hands and resisted the urge to scream.

The angry sex he wasn’t having with Derek would be so good.

Not the typical cutesy coffee shop au. Angsty, hot, and Derek is so so grumpy:

Double Negatives by coffeeinallcaps (1/1 | 16,337 | Explicit)

Derek and Laura run a pure food store and coffeehouse. There’s this boy Stiles who’s a regular customer. He’s infuriating, of course, but there’s something about him.

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Shower Mishap - Derek/Stiles


Stiles had been at a pack meeting with Derek and the rest of the pack and was incredibly frustrated. He was 18 now and it seemed that the only thing keeping him and Derek apart was how stubborn they both were being. So he decided not to be. Once everyone was gone, he circled back and made his way into Derek’s place, trying to seek out where Derek was and deciding he was going to talk about his feelings once and for all. He heard noises from his bedroom and made his way up there, opening the door and barging in only to find Derek naked. “Holy shit! Sorry!” he called out, but didn’t stop himself from staring.

“You’re telling me Derek Hale asked you to Prom.”

Stiles buries his face further into his arms and whines a stupid ‘yes’.

“Derek Hale asked you to Prom.” Lydia repeats. “Derek. Hale.”

“Yes.” Stiles whines again, angrier this time. “I told you already!”

Scott pats his arm, the gesture meant to be comforting, but instead it makes Stiles feel worse.

“And you said no?” Lydia yells suddenly, making some of the other students startle and glare at her. “Oh, please. Like you never yelled before.” She huffs, throwing her hair over her shoulder and turning to slap Stiles’ forehead. “You are so stupid.”

“Oh, come on!” Stiles protests. “We all knows he’s an asshole, like – he’d probably pull that Carrie prank on me and then I’d turn into a killer and murder you all. I’m just preventing a disaster!”

Lydia sighs and even Scott rolls his eyes. Stiles pretends not to notice them sharing equally judgmental glances. “Like I said,” Lydia points out, “so fucking stupid.”

“And really,” Scott says, “if you think he’s that mean, why are you acting like you regret saying no?”

“Because!” Stiles shrieks, waving his arms around. “I’m a nice person!” Scott only arches an eyebrow. “Shut up, I am!”

Lydia laughs sarcastically, pushes her tray away and gets up. “I refuse to be around you while you’re acting like an idiot.” She kisses Scott’s cheek and turns around. “And you are not a nice person.” She walks away and Scott grins at her retreating back.

It’s disgustingly sweet and Stiles kind of wants to throw up, instead he just groans and looks to where Derek is sitting with his friends. “Do you think Erica is going to kill me?”

“Dude.” Scott says, disapprovingly. “It’s okay to say no to someone, but I don’t know why you did it when you clearly want to go to Prom with Derek, and then climb him like a tree.”

“What –” Stiles shouts, eyes widening. “I do not! I – I’m not in love with him!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Scott raises his hands. Shit. He wasn’t supposed to say that. “In love?”

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