he's bending over stiles

Scavenger Hunt

Stiles/Derek, T, 2500 words, Meet Cute AU

Written for the following prompt:

“i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au

“Honey, I’m home!” Stiles calls out as he wrestles his roll bag over their entry mat.

“That’s still not funny,” Scott says, without looking up from his textbook.

“Once again, we disagree.”

Scott snorts. “How was the trip?”

“Fine,” he says, plopping down right in the middle of the living room to start unpacking. “Typical conference. Some sessions were actually interesting, most were boring as shit.”

Scott hums, already absorbed again in his reading. Stiles reaches for the zipper on his suitcase but then freezes—this is definitely the same brand as his suitcase, but he doesn’t remember this extra zippered pocket on the top.

“Oh, shit.”


Stiles grimaces. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t my suitcase. Goddamn it.”

Scott finally looks up, frowning. “Shit, really? How’d you manage that?”

“It was a redeye,” Stiles says, running a hand through his hair. “I was exhausted, in fucking LaGuardia, and I was just trying to get out of there as fast as humanly possible.”

“Is there a name on it? Are you sure it’s not yours?”

“Pretty sure,” Stiles says, feeling around the sides for the pocket. He sighs when he pulls out the little card and sees that it’s blank. “Motherfucker. This is definitely not my suitcase because I’m actually smart enough to put my name on it.”

“Sorry, man,” Scott says sympathetically as Stiles falls back on the rug with an anguished groan.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

“Open it,” Scott suggests. “Maybe there’s something with their name on it.”

Stiles fiddles with the zipper. He’s nosy as hell, in general, and normally he’d be jumping at the chance to rifle through someone else’s personal belongings. But… 

“What if there’s like, dead bodies in there or something?” he asks, and Scott just stares at him for a second. Stiles rolls his eyes—that’s a perfectly valid concern. Or maybe he watches too many police procedurals, whatever. “Okay, fine.”

Stiles holds his breath as he slowly unzips the suitcase, but nothing happens when he lets the top part flop back onto their crappy, threadbare rug. There’s a Dodgers hat on top, and Stiles grimaces. “Well, they have shitty taste in baseball teams.”

He sets the hat carefully aside and keeps digging. The person is neat, whoever they are, because everything is folded, and all the dirty clothes are even all contained in their own zippered bag. At first glance, there’s nothing too out of the ordinary—phone charger, American Gods, Calvin Klein briefs. Fancy, he thinks. There’s a monogrammed leather toiletry bag (DSH, he commits those initials to memory), and he pokes through it.

“I’m gonna make an educated guess that it’s a guy.”

“Why’s that?” Scott says, finally looking somewhat interested in this mystery.

Stiles holds up an electric razor. “And that he’s maybe not totally straight,” he says, brandishing a little bottle of lube that’s about three-quarters full.

Scott rolls his eyes. “Lots of people use lube.”

“Yeah, but do you travel with it?” Stiles counters, and Scott sighs.

“No,” he admits. “Did you find anything with his actual name on it?”

“Not yet,” Stiles says absently. He continues to rifle through the bag until he’s pretty sure he has his plan of attack. “Okay. I’m gonna find out who it is,” he says with a determined nod, and Scott frowns.

“How? This is New York City! There are literally millions of dudes here.”

“It’ll be like a real-life scavenger hunt,” Stiles says dreamily, ignoring Scott as he carefully lays his three chosen items out on the coffee table. “This is awesome.”

Keep reading

The Office//Teen Wolf AU

This could go as a one-shot or a series, your choice

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Isaac Lahey, Reader.

You glance into the conference room, Stiles slouched over in a chair.

“Why do I sell paper?” He rests his hand on his face. “Why do I sell paper?” He repeats, dragging each syllable out. “I..I was supposed to go to George Washington University for the pre-FBI program. I went for a while and I was needed back home. I dropped out to take care of things at home, but I still needed a job. So here I am.”

You pick the ringing phone up, bored out of your mind. “Dunder Mifflin, this is Y/N.

There was a falsely shrill voice on the other line, “Hi, can I speak to your handsome boss, Scott McCall?”

You glance up into Scott’s office, a smiles spread across his face. “Scott, do you need something?”

“What do you mean Scott? I’m calling for Scott.” He laughs and you sigh.

“Scott, I have work to do. I’m sorry.” You hang up the phone before replying to a couple emails. You glance up when Stiles walks over to your desk.

“So, are you going to Malia’s cat party this weekend?“ You laugh, hardly unable to get the sentence out.

Stiles chuckles, bending over your desk, “Yeah.” He laughs.

You hear the door open and you see Isaac walk in. “You ready to go, babe?”

“Yeah, let me make a couple of faxes and I’ll be right there.” You stand up and go to take a fax to Scott.

The cameramen grab you and you go to the conference room.

“Who is Isaac?”

“Isaac is my fiancé.” You nod. “We were supposed to get married in September, but I think we’re going to get married in the spring.”

After your interview you head out of the conference room. Stiles is the only one still there. “Are you walking out?” You ask.

He nods, “Yeah. I’ll go with you.” He stands up.

You hear a horn outside. “It’s Isaac. I’ve got to go.” You wave goodbye to Stiles and head outside.

The next morning you come in and turn the lights on, Theo already at his desk beside Stiles’

“How long have you been here?” You take your jacket off and put it around your chair.

“I don’t sleep. I must be here when Scott gets here.” He answers monotonously.

“Okay…” You turn your computer on.

“Y/N! Y/N Y/N Y/N!” Scott comes in, his arm around someone new.

“Yes, Scott?” You look up at him.

“Meet our new temp. Jackson.”

“Hi. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” You extend your hand.

“Yeah, you too.” ‘Is he always like this?’ He mouths and you nod.

Scott waits for everyone to come in and he introduces Jackson to each one.

“The new guy is…” Stiles starts.

“Doomed?” You raise an eyebrow and Stiles laughs.

“I was going to say in for it, but doomed sums it up.”

“Who’s the new guy?” Lydia comes around the corner with an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, that’s Jackson. The new temp.” You nod and she smiles.

“He’s hot. Not like Ryan Gosling hot, but Ryan Reynolds hot.”

Stiles raises both eyebrows at her before giving you a look. He heads for his desk, leaving Lydia to blabber on to you.

“He looks like he likes foreign films. Don’t you think?”

“I..sure.” You shrug.

You glare at Stiles and he grins, giving you a thumbs up.

“Lydia!” Scott shouts. “Did you meet Jackson! This ginger over here is our customer service rep.”

Jackson looks at Scott, his mouth agape. “I uh..hey. I’m the new temp.”

She twirls a piece of hair around her finger. “I’m Lydia.”

You get up and go to the break room, the three of them making you want to vomit. Stiles follows you in. “Fifty bucks says Lydia and Jackson are dating by next week. Wait, let me rephrase that…Lydia thinks her and Jackson are dating by next week.”

You shake his hand, “You’re on.”

anonymous asked:

STEREK HOLIDAY AU - Cora & Stiles are coworkers ( they make pies together ) and Cora needs a date to take home so he convinces Stiles to go .. So Stiles grudgingly goes and he's supposed to meet Cora & his brother for dinner, but then Cora never shows and Stiles ends up talking and/or hooking up with this amazing guy he meets that night and for whatever reason, one of them leaves without a word in the morning. So then Stiles shows up the day of the dinner with Cora and some pie ..

[Okay, so I’m sorry, but I made Cora and Stiles EMTs instead of pie makers. Derek’s a pie maker, though, if that’s okay. Also I may have tweaked the prompt a little bit in the way that neither of them disappears immediately the next morning either…]

Derek wakes up to find someone else in his bed.

He freezes for a moment, mind racing, before his memories of the previous night - of commiserating with a cute guy who’d also been ditched by his dining partner - come flooding back. Relaxing, he brings up a hand to stroke his bed partner’s messy hair, feeling a flood of warmth in his chest as the guy mumbles something and snuggles further into his chest. They lie together like that for a few moments before the guy shifts again, eyes fluttering open as he looks up at Derek.

“Hey,” he says, his voice a little rough from sleep as he tries to stifle a yawn.

“You’re still here,” Derek murmurs, fingers still curled the the guy’s hair.

Stiles, Derek remembers. The guy’s name is Stiles.

“Uh,” Stiles replies, tensing a little in Derek’s arms. “Should I not be here?”

“No. I mean, you should be here,” Derek answers quickly, wincing internally as he realizes how Stiles must have interpreted his words.

Keep reading

sweet tooth

[For liam-mchale, who wanted some fluff. Have some high school AU, I hope everything works out for you ^_^] 

The doorbell rings and Stiles opens the door, but doesn’t see anyone until he drops his vision way below eye-level.

There’s a short girl with brown hair swinging in pigtails, wearing a Girl Scouts uniform. “Hello!” she says brightly. “My name is Cora, and I am from Troop-Number-One-One-Seven-and-would-like-to-know-if-you-will-support-my-troop-by-buying–” she starts to say, stringing all the words together quickly.

“Whoa whoa whoa, as much as I’d love to support you guys, I can’t really can’t buy a box of cookies without worry about my dad eating all of it. Can’t really hide it in my room, y'know, ‘cause ants,” Stiles says. “And as much as I love Thin Mints, I couldn’t eat an entire box before he gets home." 

Cora pouts, lip wobbling. "But I really want our troop to go to Yellowstone this year,” she says. “We need to raise money!" 

"Sorry. I can make a donation?” Stiles says, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“I guess,” Cora says sadly. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re walking door-to-door by yourself. And where are your cookies if you’re selling 'em?” Stiles peers out the door, but he doesn’t see a parent hovering nearby with a wagon of cookie boxes or something.

“My brother has them in his car,” Cora says, jerking her head towards the street. 

There’s a familiar Camaro parked by the curb, engine purring, and Stiles’ stomach drops promptly somewhere past his feet. No way, it couldn’t be, Stiles thinks. “Your last name wouldn’t happen to be Hale by any chance, would it?” Stiles asks.

“Yep,” Cora says brightly.

“Okay, scratch that, I want…uh, how many boxes can I get for twenty bucks?” Stiles says, pulling out the lone twenty in his wallet.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you know of any fics where Stiles is in an abusive relationship and Derek saves him? Sterek happy ending of course.


Anonymous said:hi this is a very beautiful blog and thank you for your work i was wondering if there are fics where stiles is in a bad/abusive relationship and derek kind of steps in some sort of protective way (sorry for shitty english thank you again) :*

Ok. Here’s some sads. And a cute gif to counter that. - Anastasia

Originally posted by iglovequotes

How To Save A Stiles by Supernaturally_Sterek

(1/1 I 1,037 I Not Rated)

Stiles thought the abuse was his punishment. He was wrong.
Stiles thought that he had no one. He was wrong.
Stiles had never been wrong before the nogistune, but he was a Stilinski and everyone has a Stillinski’s back.  

Leftovers by foxtricks (wireddifferently)

(1/1 I 2,413 I Mature)

Derek thinks Stiles’ boyfriend is a douche.

When the Nightmares Start by Wolftraps (AlwaysBoth)

(1/1 I 4,188 I Mature)

“Don’t,” Derek snapped. “You haven’t lied to me since the second time we met, Stiles. Don’t start now. Not for him.”

Stiles sighed, stopped trying to smile, and as the facade fell, he seemed to shrink, to curl in on himself. And the smaller he got, the less Derek recognized him; like he was just a shade of the man who Derek had seen hold up, and back, werewolves with twice his muscle mass. It was unnerving. Wrong.

Let Me Protect You by OpalPenWriter

(1/1 I 4,689 I Mature)

Derek is trying to clean up after Kevin. He is trying his hardest to make sure that Stiles gets better and is in a loving environment. However, the more Derek tries, the worst and more awkward it seems to get. Like most things in his life, its takes a catalyst before things start going right for Derek. After all, he’s just trying to be a good mate and Alpha for Stiles.

Jurisdiction by elisera

(1/1 I 7,025 I Mature I Rape)

John is a pretty level-headed guy. He wasn’t always, back during his own Sturm und Drang period, but he married a firecracker of a woman and got a kid with an affinity for trouble like he got payed for ending up in it, so someone had to level out or they would’ve ended up living in a treehouse or Lapland doing god knows what. Anyway, getting a hold of his temper is one of John’s better life achievements. It makes him a good sheriff and it kept him from blowing his lid too badly those last two years when Stiles started acting out in a way that John had never seen before.

But the temper is still there.

He’s reminded of it when he comes home on a random Saturday in March after spilling his milkshake all over his uniform shirt only to notice he didn’t have a spare in the station and finds Stiles bend over the kitchen sink with hunched shoulders.

Gladiolus by TheRealNightTempest

(1/1 I 13,163 I Mature)

Stiles moved to New York City to attend Columbia and somehow he ended up abandoned by his pack. To fill the void where his loved one used to be, he seeks affection from the wrong source. Years later a terrible encounter forces Stiles to move back home to Beacon Hills. He’ll have to face people he used to call family. Laura. The Pack. Worst of all Derek.

And because of them he’ll have to learn to heal.

I bet you kiss your knuckles by cheshirecat101

(1/1 I 14,315 I Teen)

Stiles has been in the same abusive relationship with Theo Raeken for two years now. Enter Deputy Derek Hale, who is determined to save him.

Seriously?! by Katie_MichelleAMLFTL

(10/? I 17,313 I Not Rated)

The day after graduation Stiles goes missing without a trace, eight months later he turns up in a stolen car at the side of the road just inside beacon hills….. in labour.

I Can’t Save You, If You Won’t Let Me by twistedwings

(15/15 I 22,772 I Explicit)

“Derek! Look what that bastard did to him!” he snarled out and Stiles winced at the malice in his voice and words. Everyone turned around and suddenly it was quiet, Jackson let go of Stiles as Derek walked up to him. “I swear it isn’t what you think! It was my fault. Please believe me,” Stiles begged as the tears began to form in his eyes, Derek looked at the bruise and Jackson was getting even more upset. “This was your fault! Did he brainwash you into believing it was okay to hit you?” Jackson yelled, Stiles shook his head furiously, the tears now falling down his cheeks.

Better Than I Know Myself by Vague_Shadows

(15/15 I 45,782 I Explicit)

“I’m in no need of a knight in shining armor,” Stiles interrupts. “Thank you for your concern, kind sir,” he adds with a flourish of his hand and mocking bow of his head.

“And I think I got it covered if the need arises,” Matt adds, sliding into the seat beside Stiles and throwing an arm across his shoulders.

“Right,” Derek says, feeling more idiotic by the minute. “Sorry to bug you or whatever.”

squeeingfangirl  asked:


Ooooohkay, so since this whole meme seems to have to do with my current project, here we go.  I think I picked the best one possible tbh because I want you to know what Derek’s doing but Stiles doesn’t see it so you don’t know.  HAH, WORK-AROUND MEME.

Original scene (Stiles’ PoV):

Stiles stares at his dad, feeling chaotic inside and filled to the brim with broken, jagged pieces of himself and he’s jittery, unable to stand still.  “I have to go,” he says, and his mouth wraps around it so oddly, like it’s trying to catch the words he’s releasing, yank them back inside with all the other sharp bits.  “Scott,” he barks out.  It’s all he needs.

His dad nods with unseeing eyes and Stiles doesn’t know what to do.  The life had seemed to snuff out of both him and Claudia Stilinski today and he doesn’t know how to shove it back into either one of them.  He swipes at his eyes, under his nose with the back of his wrist and purses his lips.

He runs full-sprint to the Hale house because it’s easier than trying to figure it out.

He remembers three-quarters of the way there that Scott is on his way to the airport to see his dad.  That he’ll be gone for three days.  Stiles can’t stop crying.  He doesn’t go to the front door, he runs around to the back and just keeps going.

He gains a shadow after a while and he spins around and sees Derek running after him.

“Leave me alone,” he shouts back at him, furious and red-faced and wanting to hurt him as bad as he hurts inside.

“Stiles,” is all Derek says and it’s not sad, like Stiles would’ve expected, it’s a command.

It’s so much their old dynamic that Stiles can’t help but stop, can’t help but want to argue back completely breathless and physically unable to.

Derek stops right in front of him.  “Stiles,” he says again and his hand reaches out and cups his elbow and now it’s more wondering.  Not wondering like curious but wondering like awe.  He’s not curious, he already knows.  “Come back to the house,” he says, looking away, furtive.

They’ve gotten far away from it and pick up a leisurely pace on the walk back.

Stiles picks up rocks and throws them as hard as he can at the ground, hard enough that it hurts his arm.

Derek doesn’t say anything.

Stiles stops a few feet from the Hale’s porch and says, “My mom is dead.”  The words release a dam inside of him so big and so wide that he feels like he’ll never stop feeling it.

Derek’s arms wrap around his shaking shoulders and Stiles only halfheartedly tries to squirm away from him.  He lowers them both down to the top step and pulls Stiles more into him, like if he can just shelter enough of him with his own body, he’ll be able to keep him safe from the evils of the world.

It’s pointless though.  Stiles is here because he’s just seen the evils of the world right up close.

He leans into Derek’s chest and blubbers, gets snot and wet onto his shirt and Derek doesn’t say anything.  He holds Stiles while he cries and doesn’t say anything.  He doesn’t feed him lies or platitudes, he just lets him cry himself into a headache and sore muscles.

His head starts to hurt really bad and he sets it up against Derek’s neck and closes his eyes and tries hard to stop crying because it’s starting to make his whole body feel like it’s drying out.  Tears are still leaking out though and soaking Derek’s collar and Derek’s chin is on his shoulder and Stiles lets his body slump into Derek’s, dozing unevenly and restlessly.

He only fully wakes when Derek starts growling, threatening, like there’s something he wants to disembowel on the other side of it.  Stiles doesn’t care.  He doesn’t turn his head.  If something’s out there looking to get them then maybe today is the day all the Stilinskis die.  Two down, one to go.  He closes his eyes again, shivers when he feels something touch his back.  It’s a hand - and he doesn’t know how he knows that it’s Scott’s hand.

He whimpers in relief, in sadness, in happiness, in something that’s so big it houses far more than one emotion.

Scott’s hand moves away from his back but the weight of him sitting next to Stiles on the step doesn’t leave.  Derek’s arm tightens around his shoulders, proprietary and out of place.  Stiles doesn’t care about that either.  Derek and Scott stay with him until the sun comes up.  He sleeps fitfully if at all.  He doesn’t think either one of them get a wink.

Derek’s PoV (yay, there is no Derek perspective in this fic and I always miss him):

“Oh Derek,” his mom says, sniffing, trying to wipe her eyes, to hide what she’s been doing with them.

Derek feels his fingernails flatten against his skin the way they do when they want to grow into claws.  “Stiles’ mom,” he says, lips twisting to the side.  Talia nods slowly, like she wants to preserve as much time as possible before confirming it.  Like it’s a way to keep Claudia alive just those few milliseconds longer.

They’d all known it was coming.  It’s different now that it’s here.  “Scott’s not here,” Derek remembers abruptly.  “Where’s Stiles?”

Derek’s dad shakes his head.  “It’s Melissa’s coworker who’s called.”

Derek folds his fingers into his fists, his sharp nails biting into his palms, and he stomps back up the stairs.  He doesn’t know what to do but he wants to do something. He has the horrible idea that maybe there’s nothing to do.

He spends a lot of the next few hours staring blankly at the wall.

He’s half-asleep sitting up against his headboard when he hears furious feet pounding against the hard dirt of their backyard.  He throws his textbook off his lap and thunders down the stairs, rips open the back door and hurls himself out of it.  Stiles is a small speck on a dark horizon, but one that’s getting bigger as Derek’s supernatural speed easily outpaces him.

Stiles notices him earlier than Derek would’ve expected, twisted around and looking broken in truly unfixable ways.  “Leave me alone!” he shouts back.

It’s familiar, the way Stiles always talks to him, like there’s a snake behind the words waiting to strike and Derek snarls out, “Stiles.”  And what he means is ‘stop.’

To his amazement, Stiles does, bending over and catching his breath before straightening up as Derek stops in front of him.

Derek reaches out before he can stop himself and touches skin that’s cool from the rushing air, soft, and Derek never gets to touch Stiles like this.  Never.  “Stiles,” he says it again but he can hear the reverence in his own voice now and looks away in embarrassment.  Now’s not the time for that.  There will never be a time for that, he knows.  “Come back to the house.”

Stiles doesn’t argue, walks back the way he was running from and lets Derek fall into step with him.  He doesn’t stop but to pick up rocks and hurtle them down into the dirt, leaving wounds behind.  Derek wants to say something, anything, because he looks at Stiles and he wants to let him run, anything to make that look on his face go away.

There’s no change in Stiles’ demeanor until he comes to the porch steps.  He wavers there, swaying, rocks dropping from limp fingers and says in the most emotionless voice Derek has ever heard, “My mom is dead.”  And then he’s crying.  Crying buckets, crying like he’s turned some faucet and it’s gotten stuck.

He’s not stopping and Derek doesn’t know what to do. Stiles isn’t his, he’s Scott’s. He’s said that to himself hundreds, no millions of times over the years but Scott isn’t here.  So Derek pretends.

He pretends Stiles is his.

He wraps his arms around his shoulders and holds him close. Stiles tries to shuffle him off but it’s perfunctory and Derek just holds tighter in response, getting them to the top of the steps – Stiles with legs like jelly and stumbling all over himself – and lowering them onto the porch.

Stiles slumps into him and cries like he’s never going to stop.  Cries until there are no tears left.  His hands clench into Derek’s sides, his thighs, fingernails biting in and sometimes breaking skin that immediately reseals.  Stiles doesn’t seem to notice.  He’s shaking and sobbing and full of this nameless terror and all Derek wants is for him to stop.  For all of this to stop.

Stiles’ breaths are hitching and slowing as he exhausts himself until he’s fitfully twitching in Derek’s embrace.

Derek gets a few elbows to the ribs and Stiles’ head knocking into his chin.  He doesn’t care.  He doesn’t let go.  Stiles’ nose is resting in the hollow of his neck and Derek pulls him closer and drops his chin to Stiles’ shoulder, presses it in so Stiles can’t forget he’s there. His arms are a loose circle around his waist now, where Stiles is sitting far away from him on the wood porch so he can lean even further into Derek’s warmth.

He’s not going to move.  Not for anything.

Not even for Scott.  Derek has no idea what he’s doing there, standing a foot away with a look of frozen horror on his face at the sight of his best friend like this. He’s supposed to be in Chicago with his dad, only he isn’t, he’s here because Stiles was never really Derek’s. He’s always been Scott’s.

He reaches out a hand towards Stiles’ back and a low rumble shakes the porch around them.  Derek’s mortified but he can’t stop the territorial growl from building in his chest.

Scott’s hand trembles in the space between them and Derek’s eyes flash gold in warning.  Scott’s expression hardens and then his fingertips are pressing against Stiles’ spine, letting him know he’s there.

Stiles makes a noise Derek can’t identify but it’s… it’s welcoming.

Scott’s the one he wants.  He’s only settled for Derek.

Scott sinks down next to Stiles on the other side and pulls his hand away and Stiles doesn’t try to shift to him.  He stays in Derek’s embrace, less restive now though hardly restful, and Derek brings his arm up and tightens it around his shoulders.

Pleased he gets to pretend a little while longer.

full fic.

anonymous asked:

is there more bottom stiles or bottom derek?? i feel like theres not enough of bottom derek and im here like,,,, BOTTOM DEREK! ARCHING HIS BACK FOR STILES! GETTING FUCKED INTO A WALL!! TOTALLY ZONED OUT PLEASURED LOOK! (i am too past the point of return ;o;)

If you’re asking if there is more bottom!Stiles or bottom!Derek in this fandom, the answer is bottom!Stiles. Which, alas! Not that I don’t love bottom!Stiles, it’s just…

Derek holding onto the bathroom sink for dear life- and possibly breaking it- as Stiles slips his arms around him and fucks him slowly from behind, running his hands up and down Derek’s sides soothingly and whispering, “That’s it, Der. I’ve got you. That’s it. Good boy.” 

Derek feeling a little less lonely when Stiles fills him up. He can’t really explain it. Stiles loves him and he is here. He’s not lonely anymore, but Derek can’t help but feel 100% settled when Stiles slides into him, every inch of him covered in pale, mole splattered skin; his whole body shivering as Stiles pants into the crook of his neck or across his tattoo, pinning him down with gentle hands as he comes inside him. 

Stiles bending Derek over the back of the sofa and eating him out, loving the sounds Derek can’t help but make, clawing at the cushions and sobbing Stiles’ name, spreading his legs as wide as he can make them, begging for it. “Are you going to come for me, big guy? Just like this, all sloppy and loose?” Stiles sliding a finger in beside his tongue as Derek’s legs start to tremble, being told he can play with his balls but can’t touch himself. “On you go, tease yourself for me, Derek. There’s a good pup. Let me hear you.”

Derek presenting for Stiles; some nights Stiles is late in getting home and Derek just needs to be fucked, can’t settle until he’s stripped himself down and is presenting his ass high on the bed, imagining Stiles is watching him. It makes him feel better, knowing Stiles will be home soon to fill him up. It’s on these nights Derek calls Stiles Alpha; can’t help it, the word just slips out and it feels so right. The first time it happens Stiles laughs, thinking Derek is being an asshole as they just had their weekly fight of you’re human, Stiles! and you’re not invincible, Derek! But then he realises Derek hasn’t even realised he said it and okay, he can totally work with that. He can’t do the sexy growl like Derek does when he goes all dominant on his ass, but he can be the Alpha. “Shhh, you’re doing so well, Derek. My good little beta. Yeah, there we go, hips up for me. You gonna be good and do exactly what I say?” 

Rough fucking against every flat surface in the loft! Sometimes Derek just needs to be taken, okay? He was always under the impression he would never be able to be held down. Maybe when he was younger and used to fantasise about another wolf pinning him to the bed, but not now. But then Stiles came along. Stiles with his magic hands that make Derek feel light and delicate; attached to fingers that wrap around Derek’s wrists and make him feel like he can’t escape, even though he would be able to in a second. Derek blames Stiles’ eyes; he gets so easily lost in them, and when Stiles pins him down, eyes looking into his, Derek forgets everything but them. It’s cheesy, but when Stiles fucks him- when he makes fucking love to him- it all goes away for a little while. He’s just a kid again and everything is right in the world. 

Then there are the times when they role play. Stiles gives Derek a pair of glasses and a tie to wear and gets him to straddle his lap, touching every part of him as Derek rides him, whispering really bad librarian sex jokes that, god help him, turn Derek on like nothing else. (It gets to the point where Derek can’t enter a library without getting hard. Stiles may or may not insist on having a library when they buy their first place together. First protocol of action: fucking Derek over the really sexy arm chair they bought for reading on. Spoiler: it’s never used to read. The most innocent action it sees is naked snuggling. Maybe some naked reading, when they remember to stop getting distracted by one another. “We’ve been together ten years Stiles. I think you can go ten minutes without touching me.” “Says the guy who sniffs me before I even get a ‘good morning’ from him!”)


@loveactually-rps tumblr was a dick and ate your ask. you asked for sterek + 15 from this list. sorry this took me a while, but here is some absurd fluffy sterek high school au! hope you like it. :)

“How can you say something like that to me?” Stiles demands, eyes blazing with indignation. “That you didn’t know? There’s no way you didn’t know. I was completely, embarrassingly obvious about it.”

He’s more agitated now, stepping away from Derek and back, his hands gesturing wildly as he picks up steam. “It’s been years. You can’t tell me you haven’t seen the way I look at you for years.”

“I– there was no way to– I didn’t think I deserved you,” Derek says, laying gentle hands on Stiles’ shoulders. He needs him to hear this, wills him to understand. “All this time, after everything I’ve done. I couldn’t let myself believe it. I couldn’t let myself hope.”

His throat is dry; he tries swallowing but comes up with nothing. He can feel his pulse pound out a grueling tempo in his skull, a soundtrack to fit the way the earth is tilting beneath his feet–

Stiles’ fingers find their way around Derek’s wrist, then down, slowly curling around the fist he hadn’t realized he’d made. When Derek looks up there’s something forceful shining in Stiles’ eyes, an emotion he’s never seen before.

He can’t breathe.

Stiles pulls Derek’s fist to his chest with both hands, unlocks the fingers one by one until he can replace them with his own. Derek lets him, helpless as he is to resist.

When that’s done, Stiles bends, lets his mouth hover over the peaks of Derek’s knuckles.

“We’ll have to fix that, then, won’t we?” he asks, before placing one kiss to Derek’s knuckles, looking up at him through long, eyelashes.

“What? I–”

“I love you,” Stiles interrupts. Like it’s something simple. Like it needs no more explanation than that. As though it’s not tearing Derek’s world apart.

“I love you, and I have for years now. And I will always love you.”

Stiles leans forward, eyes drooping ever so slightly, a faint smile playing over his lips like he couldn’t be happier. A hand comes around the back of Derek’s neck, holds him there as if there was ever a chance of him wanting to run away.

“I love you so much, Peter,” Stiles murmurs, and moves in for a kiss.

Dismay surges through Derek like a physical thing, even as Coach Finstock’s voice is rips through the air.


Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I heard the story from a friend of mine and I need to sterek it and it's crazy stupid but hey your tipsy sooooo. So a guy got pantsed in a party by a drunk dude then the drunk dude told him that his underwear wasn't good enough to get it up because only batman can get it up. They hooked up eventually. That's my prompt to you. :P

Okay… not sure if I got this right because reading is a bit difficult right now- but here, my first semi-fluffy one-shot for the fandom:

(sorry it is very unedited and may be riddled with spelling/grammar mistakes and definitely written by someone who is quite intoxicated.

Liars, Frowns, and Batman

Derek had 58 different kinds of frowns.

Stiles knew that because he had catalogued all of them. He knew the difference between Derek’s ‘You keep trying to force the last bit of cheese cake on me’ frown and Derek’s ‘You keep putting yourself in the way of danger and I should be able to save you because I’m a werewolf’ frown.

Somehow, it had been three years now. And Derek and Stiles had been brought together by Scott and his True-Alpha-ness and so Stiles knew them all.

And there were 58. No more. No less.

That’s why all he could do was frown in confusion at Derek’s latest facial expression.

It was an uncategorized frown,

The Holy Grail as it were.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked, blinking in concern. He could only assume that the 59th frown was saving for horrendously dangerous emergencies. Perhaps Derek was dying.

Stiles’ frown deepened. He didn’t want Derek to die.

“Stiles,” Derek said and for a moment the frown shifted into one that was a bit more familiar. It was his ‘You are being stupid and I have to put up with you’ frown. It was the frown Stiles was most familiar with.

 He totally didn’t deserve it right now.


 “You just pulled down my pants,” Derek said and his face somehow flickered from a frown into a smile.

Keep reading

While Derek is still asleep upstairs….

Theo hated Stiles.  He hated that Stiles had the master wrapped around his freakishly long fingers.  He hated that Stiles was going to get to stay here, apparently forever, with stupidly hot Derek Hale, whose rules made sense and whose punishments weren’t just thinly veiled excuses to torture Theo.  He hated that Stiles wasn’t even bending over backwards to please Derek, and yet Derek had chosen him, snarky, sarcastic, asshole Stiles, when the bastard werewolf could have had any slave he wanted.

So, sure, Theo was jealous.  But jealousy wasn’t even the point.  The point was that Stiles so clearly hated him right back, hated him from the moment he’d set foot in the house, because he was scared Derek would chose Theo over Stiles (even though Derek clearly thought Stiles had hung the moon) and serious, fuck Stiles.  Fuck him for having everything and still hating Theo.

So, naturally, Theo had made it his mission to make Stiles as miserable as humanly possible for the duration of Derek’s ownership of him.  He didn’t have a lot to occupy his time when Derek wasn’t with him (he wasn’t allowed out of the training room alone yet, apparently that was a privilege he would earn later, but he’d only been there for five days, and Derek said he’d be there at least a month or two).  He’d spent most of yesterday evening lying on his mattress on the floor of the training room, listening to Derek and Stiles have make-up sex (FUCK that boy was loud) and coming up with snide things to say about it.  He almost wished he could have written them down.  Regardless, he came to breakfast prepared.  He was particularly proud of his opening repartee.  “So, which is sorer, you ass, you cunt, or your ego?”

His New Anchor --- Liam Dunbar Imagine

Part 10

warnings: swearing

a/n: this is really short but I needed to post a part tonight and I just barely got done the last sentence aggghhhhh


I wake up in a hospital room, everyone sleeping around me. And I mean everyone. The whole pack, Melissa and my dad. It’s dark outside and the only thing on is the light above my head. The closest to me are dad and Stiles. “Dad.” I croak. Moving my hand a little to hit his head. His head shoots straight up, knocking Scotts elbow, resulting in his head falling onto the bed.

“You’re awake! Guys she’s awake!” He exclaims, hugging me and kissing my forehead. Stiles kisses both my cheeks, my forehead and my nose. Melissa comes over and takes everything out of me. Dad helps me sit up.

Kira, Malia and Lydia come over next, hugging me. I smile a little. Now there’s just my boyfriend. My poor secret boyfriend. He comes over and kisses my cheek, hugging me. “I don’t get it.” I say after he goes back.

“What don’t you get?” Dad asks me.

“I was going to die. I know I was, I even told Melissa.” They look at me.

“Well…something happened.” Kira says. I look at Scott.

“What happened?” I ask.

“You’re my new beta!” He says, grinning. I put my head in my hands.

“Oh fuck me.” I mumble.

“(Y/N)!” Dad and Melissa snap. I look up at them and smile sheepishly.

I’m laying down on my bed, thinking. I’m a werewolf now. I can run even faster, lift more, squat more, heal faster! It’s amazing. I get up and reach to the top of my doorway, letting my body sink, stretching it.

“Cramps?” Stiles asks and I nod. “Do you need anything?” I nod. “Come on. We’re going to the store.” He says and I smile. I go into my room and put on a pair of uggs. Thank god I have black sweatpants on. I pull a muscle tank on over my sports bra and walk out of the room.

After a while, we get to the store. We get out and go in. Stiles grabs a basket and we start walking around. I stop, holding my stomach and bending over. “Stiles.” I groan. He stops walking and looks back at me.

“Come here.” He says and turns around. He bends down and I walk over, climbing onto his back. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He holds onto my legs and keeps walking.

We get over to the pads and tampons. I reach and grab some, handing them to Stiles. He puts them in the basket. I spot Liam and Mason. They come over to us. “Hey guys, what are you doing here?” Mason asks. I point down in the basket. They look in then back up.

“I live in a house with two boys and there is blood pouring out of a hole in my body.” I say and Stiles laughs.

“So how you feeling? Being a werewolf and all?” Liam asks.

“I feel like I can kick your ass a lot easier now, Dunbar.” I smirk and he laughs.

“We’ll see about that, Stilinski.”

“Mhmm. Come on Stiles, we need to go to the bakery.” I say.

“Right away master. See you guys tomorrow.” Stiles says and I wink at Liam. We walk away.

I have on black tights, a red floral romper, and black combat boots. My waves are let loose. After walking in the door with Stiles, I run straight to the weight room.

Liam gets up off the bench and we kiss. “I wanted to kiss you in the hospital room but everyone was there.” I mumble against his lips and he smiles.

“Same here.” He tells me and kisses me again. Mason clears his throat and we pull away, looking at him.

“So no one cared to tell me that you’re a couple.” He says.

“We’re keeping it secret. Well…other than you.” Liam says.

“Because of Stiles.” I add. He nods.

“I understand. You’re secret’s safe with me.” Mason tells us, smiling. I smile at him and the bell rings.

“See you in class.” I say and kiss Liam again.

no but can you imagine

isaac and stiles holding hands as they walk through the school 

stiles tugging isaac down the stairs because they need to hurry to their next class but he doesn’t wanna let go

stiles and isaac sharing glances as they sit on opposite sites of the classroom

isaac ‘accidentally’ dropping some books when stiles passes by so he needs to bend over to pick them up

(stiles walking straight into the person in front of him)

isaac and stiles making out against the lockers

(scott rolling his eyes at them as they picked his locker) (again)

stiles picking isaac up with his keep and driving to school together and isaac resting his hand on stiles’ knee

stiles and isaac as the sappy high school couple

coffeeflavoredqueer  asked:

Lizzie Bennet

Lizzie Bennet: one of the pairing is a YouTube star

Stiles sighs dreamily, rests his chin on his hands, watches enraptured as the muscles in Derek’s back work. He wants to catch the pearls of sweat rolling off his skin…with his tongue.

“You do realise this is kind of creepy, right?”

Stiles flails so hard he nearly slides off his chair, and twists to glare at his best friend, who looks entirely too smug for having snuck up on him. Scott blithely ignores the daggers Stiles sends his way, just shoves another handful of popcorn into his mouth. 

“Excuse you,” Stiles sniffs, “watching fitness videos on youtube is not creepy.”

“It kinda is, thought,” Scott says, “when you don’t watch it for work out tips but only because you want to lick every inch of the instructor’s body.”

“How do you know I don’t watch it for the tips?”

“Dude, you haven’t lifted a single muscle voluntarily since we left high school and you weren’t forced to do PE,” Scott scoffs. “Also, you moan at the screen sometimes.”

“…just sounds of sympathy for the guy’s poor strained muscles I feel their pain." Scott gives him a look. "Yeah, okay, no, you’re right.”

“You know,” Scott says, awfully casually, “Isaac asked me to go the gym with him last week.”

“I know, dude, you told me. Am I supposed to, like, care?” Stiles asks. “You’re not going to try and convince me to join again, are you?”

“Just saying, the inside of Isaac’s gym looks an awful lot like the one in the videos." 

Stiles scoffs. “It’s a gym, they all look the same.”

"Pretty sure not all gyms come with a mandatory version of Derek Hale.”

“It’s a gym, dude, there are buff, muscly guys everywhere.”

“Stiles, you’re not listening to me,” Scott says patiently. “This one has the original.”

Stiles freezes. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.” Scott grins. “And because I’m an awesome friend, I signed you up for a free trial…starting today. Pack your stuff, we’re leaving in five.” He pats Stiles on the shoulder and saunters off, leaving Stiles to stare after him, gaping. 

He just… he needs a minute to process. “Scott, you ass!” he cries, “I only have my rattiest, oldest pair of sweatpants here. They’re two sizes to small!”

Actually, two sizes might be a generous guess. He’d bough them before he’d hit his last growth spurt and started to fill out a little; in high school, he’d mostly needed his lacrosse uniform, and well, back then looking good while doing sports hadn’t been his biggest priority once he’d figured out that Lydia wouldn’t look at him no matter how great he looked. 

“Don’t worry, bro, they make your ass look great!” Scott shouts back, and Stiles can hear him snickering. Stiles might take away all his best friend privileges. “Now get that pretty ass in gear if you wanna get there while Derek’s still on shift.”

[They do get there in time, even though Stiles bitches at Scott the entire drive to the gym. As it turns out, he does have a pretty good ass. Good enough to make Derek trip over a yoga mat when he sees Stiles bending over. Aw yiss. He’s totallygot this in the bag.]