so like stiles figured it out himself

A very long time ago @jennthereaper and @simplyn2deep both sent me this prompt, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long, but the other day I was finally inspired to take a stab at it. I hope you enjoy!

From The Way You Said “I Love You” 

#26 Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave

Please, Derek, please, I–“ Stiles chokes back the beginnings of tears and clutches harder at the sleeve of Derek’s jacket. He’s on his knees, having tripped in his scramble to get to Derek from the other side of the loft. “I love you, okay? And I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, I’ve been a coward about this whole thing, but I love you. And I know you love me too. I know you do, and I need you not to leave like this, fuck, Derek, please don’t do this.”

Derek stares down at him for a long time, heart clenched in his throat.

And then he looks up at where the other Stiles is pursing his lips in a hard frown as he watches the scene.

“It isn’t real?” Derek asks for the hundredth time since the other Stiles, the real Stiles, showed up in this apparent dreamscape.

Stiles shakes his head stiffly.

The Stiles on the floor is still pleading with him around tears, but the noises of his despair are starting to fade, as if Derek were now hearing him from a distance. Even his heartbeat, a sound that Derek has been clinging to as an anchor for what feels like forever, begins to disappear.

Derek swallows and steels himself against feeling anything more than determination to get through this newest mess.

“What now?” he asks, tone clinical and firm.

Stiles answers him in a similar tone, his expression betraying nothing about what’s going on in his own head. A far cry from the Stiles that Derek first met a couple years ago, terrified and mouthy and young. “Now you wake up.”

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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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Summary: Stiles might have a crush on his co-worker, who always brews him amazing tea.

Notes: Short and sweet! Inspired by this post. (On AO3)

Stiles puts all the little sample boxes into a paper bag, then staples on the string with a tag at the end. It holds the business information, and it makes the package look like a giant tea bag. Sort of. If you squint.

The girl smiles and pays him, then waves as she walks away.

“Tea you later!” Stiles calls cheerfully. Then he says, “Oof!” when Derek smacks him in the side.

“You deserved that,” Derek says mildly. “Didn’t we already have a discussion about using the word tea inappropriately?”

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clotpolesonly  asked:

I WANT THAT HUMAN!DEREK FIC TOO. that whole season was a mess, but there was so much untapped potential with Derek slowly losing his wolf powers. i've always wanted a fic where Derek figures out he can actually get drunk now due to his slowed metabolism and proceeds to get totally smashed. and he drunk texts Stiles for whatever reason, and Stiles is like whoooaaa okay this definitely needs a chaperone so Derek doesn't get alcohol poisoning and die cuz he's not used to it. (cont...)

so Stiles comes over to make sure that Derek is okay. starts out with Derek slaphappy and affectionate kind of drunk but he devolves into anger and helplessness because, somehow even now, Kate is still managing to take things from him, to take EVERYTHING he cares about away from him. getting angry only makes it worse because, before this mess, punching the wall would have broken the WALL instead of his hand and that only drives home how WEAK he is now. 

not to mention that his werewolf-ness is his final legacy from his family, his closest and most integral connection to them. he’s never NOT been a werewolf, so if he loses that, then what is he? who is he?? he’s nothing, and he’s just devastated by that. –anyway so Stiles talks him down, tries to reassure him that he’s still himself and he’s still worth something (worth everything to him, at least). i have this image in my head of Derek trying to punch walls again with his broken hand and Stiles stopping him, like physically restraining him from hurting himself in his impotent anger, and it’s as much a show of Stiles’ strength as it is Derek’s weakness, and i’m just really emotional about this entire premise. it’s been in my mind for months and i just can’t bring myself to write it down in case it’s not as good on paper as it is in my head.

THIS though. <333 These are all the issues the show should have explored during Derek’s arc. Losing his power, his sense of self, his last connection to his family. Struggling with not being able to heal, with being wounded and stripped down by Kate again. Struggling for purpose, struggling with his trauma, struggling to figure out who he is now if he’s not a wolf, how to even exist like this, fragile and slow with weak senses. He’d have to find some new purpose for himself, beyond being the human shield to take claws and bullets during battle. He’d have to find a new way to survive, new reason to survive.

And who better than Stiles to help him through all that?

There is honestly so much to explore with human!Derek (I love the thought of him getting drunk now because he can, because it numbs the pain and the loss a little, and Stiles being there to stop him because Stiles, of anyone, knows the dangers of using alcohol to self-medicate after a trauma) and it hurts me that canon did absolutely nothing with it. It’s one of the major holes fandom never bothered to fill in and make up for (probably because s4 as a whole was just such a mess, but I’d love to see what our talented minds could do with it anyway, because it would be beautiful).

Here’s the fics I read (and like) during May! (it’s a very long fic rec, fair warning)

☾  Blind Date With A Book  , by  thepsychicclam:      Stiles thought the Blind Date With a Book trend was a great way to drum up business for his small bookshop. He definitely thought it was a great idea after the hot guy kept returning and buying more blind dates with books.Derek didn’t know how he kept getting set up on blind dates by his family, or why he kept going on them. The highlight of his night was when the date was over and he could go to the little bookshop in town and buy something to read for the rest of the night. He wanted to read, not date. (30k, M)

☾  Deputy Derek Hale, Alpha  , by  eldeeDeputy Derek Hale has recently become an alpha, and that changes things for him.  Now that he’s back after a leave of absence, he’s hoping to get what he and Stiles had almost-started back on track. The thing is, it seems Stiles is going through some changes of his own and Derek’s not sure how he fits. (12k, E)

☾  Deep Down in His Blood , by wangler  :   “Do you want me to get you wet?” Derek asks, low now, like a growl. (4k, E)

☾  If We Could Match , by  InTheArmsofaThief : As Stiles waits behind the camera during an interview, he thinks he should maybe quit.  Because, in all honesty, despite the charming smile the actor is pulling out for EW, Derek Hale is kind of a jerk. (23k, E)

☾  The Awkward and Sometimes Painful Life of of Genim Hale by BlueRunawayMoon  : Stiles is a writer of gay erotica whose work, according to his Editor (one miss Lydia Martin) has gotten dull and boring. Lydia suggest’s that Stiles try to LIVE a little, gain some new juicy experiences that he can write about and bring the heat up again. Only problem is Stiles is a bit on the dorky side and not good with ‘living a little’. After a whole slew of embarrassing situations brought on by his best(sometimes!) friend Scott, he’s given some wise advice and decides to take a tropical paradise vacation. All’s going good and well, and he’s got a major crush on his super hot tour guide Danny. Yet it seem’s like he can’t stop bumping into Derek, who, as annoying and brooding as he seem’s, also makes it quite clear he WANTS Stiles. As in…wants wants. With the two being brought together almost by fate, Stiles discover’s that Derek is more than he seems….WAY more. (113k, E)

☾  Riding the Lightning, by  VendelinStiles finds himself on the doorstep to his home in Beacon Hills, not remembering how he got here or why he’s barefoot. As it turns out, he was abducted a couple of weeks earlier from a college party and bears the same marks on his body as victims of a serial killer his dad just can’t seem to get a hold of. So there he is, with no memories of what happened, the last couple of weeks like a blank line in his mind and knowing all too well that he’s the best shot they have at catching this guy. As a key witness and in acute, assumed danger, he finds himself under surveillance 24/7 and more often than not, his dad’s best Deputy: Derek Hale, is sitting at his kitchen table. (23k, E)

(more under the cut)

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@andromedainwonderland said:

Teen Wolf-Scooby Doo, as in, the Teen Wolf crew driving around in the Jeep solving supernatural mysteries. Just me?

So I don’t know what this is, but this fic turned out to be my ARCH NEMESIS, so, you know, make of that what you will. It’s even alternating POVs, which I haven’t written in years upon years. So please appreciate how much this story wanted to kill me, and how we’re still eyeing each other with open hostility from different corners of the room.

The groundskeeper has gnarled, knotted fingers and rheumy eyes, and it takes five hundred years for him to turn the key in the rusted padlock.  The gate creaks almost as loud as his bones, and Derek flicks an ear in irritation.

“That’s a big dog you’ve got there,” he says, only mildly curious.

Stiles buries one hand in the scruff around Derek’s neck. “Not sure he is one,” Stiles says, and Derek cocks his head up at him.

Scott has the van idling behind them.

Derek takes a deep breath and sneezes. Decay, old blood, and sulfur flood his senses—he whines softly. He doesn’t have a good feeling about this.

The old house looms in front of them, stone and spires, ominous, cloaked in shadows thrown by the nearly full moon. His skin ripples under his fur, uneasy, and he tucks his tail between his legs.

“Relax,” Stiles murmurs to him. “This is easy money, right? A simple salt and burn.”

Derek huffs, knocks into Stiles’ side as he hastily turns around, and then slinks back to the van. He doesn’t like this place. He never likes haunted places, too much lingering despair that stirs up old guilt, but this house feels like it’s made out of skeleton bones, dread sits like a stone in his belly.

Lydia already has the side of the van open. He hops in, slides past Kira, and then digs into Stiles’ open duffle, buries his snout in an old t-shirt that smells a little bit like Scott, too.

“Dude,” Stiles says when he climbs in after him. “Come on.”

Derek growls, low in his throat, and Stiles backs off with a huffy, “Fine, be that way.”

The van grinds into gear and rolls forward slowly, tires bumping over the cobblestone drive, and Derek feels like his chest is caving in.

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Love Potion Number Nine

Summary: Derek decides to take a love potion, but things don’t go quite the way he intended.
Note: Written for Teen Wolf Bingo (“Stiles/Derek”). Loosely based on the song by the same name. (On AO3)

“Deputy Stilinski,” he hears over the radio. “We have reports of what appears to be a drunk and disorderly accosting people on the sidewalk.” Stiles looks up from the ticket he’s writing. It figures, on the one day he’s assigned as the downtown traffic cop. “He’s near your location,” dispatch continues, giving him pertinent information.

“Okay, I’ll intercept,” he says, ripping the ticket from the pad and tucking it under some poor fool’s windshield wiper. Shouldn’t have illegally parked, buddy.

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I wanted to do something for the upcoming holiday. I haven’t made a rec list for awhile, so here is a list of some really wonderful fics. This is a wide variety, so hopefully everyone will find something to enjoy. I went back through my last three months of reading, so they should all be fairly new. Enjoy. <3 

Happy New Year Everyone! 


A Curious Compliment  idareu2bme

Derek is a simple horseman from the mountains, Stiles is an enthusiastic university graduate ready to make a name for himself. In any other situation, they would have gone their entire lives never having met. It’s probably a good thing then, that they both happened to be in the wrong place at the right time.

A Fox’s Tale spellwovennight

Stiles loves A Fox’s Tale, a bookstore he took over after his mom dies. Unfortunately, a box store, Hale’s Wolftastic Books, is moving town and is going to be tough competition, but he has his friends, family, and texting buddy, Mr. Grumpy to help him through it.

Derek is annoyed to be moving to Beacon Hills to help start up the newest branch of Hale’s Wolftastic Books and to help Laura prepare for her upcoming wedding. He’s surprised to find himself falling in love with the town, and it’s inhabitants. If only his texting conversations with Smartass weren’t emotionally confusing.

Or a You’ve Got Mail AU that nobody asked for.

Alone Together asocialfauxpas (fuzzytomato)

Derek has lost his pack. Stiles has lost his pod. They find each other on the high seas. 

Cut It Out And Then Restart  suchfun

Years ago, when they were first starting out both in their relationship and their careers, when they were babies and hardly understood their car insurance let alone the multi-billion dollar, all-consuming, world-encompassing, life-altering business of news reporting—back then, Derek would practice his expressions in the mirror, and Stiles would think, I’m so glad he’ll never have to use that face with me.

And then Stiles screwed up, and he’s seen nothing but that face for the past two years. Aesthetically, it’s still an awesome face, and it probably always will be, but Derek is so much more than another hot dude. And he always will be.

Don’t You Hear that Rhythm secondstar

Being the opener for Blue Pagan was only the beginning for Marked & Bitten frontman Stiles Stilinski. Falling for their violinist, though, felt something more like the beginning of something greater.

down in flames series standinginanicedress

Stiles has been fucking obsessed with famous werewolf author Derek Hale since he was fifteen years old and the first book came out. Like, embarrassingly obsessed. Like, had a poster of the guy hanging up on the wall above his bed, obsessed. When Hale moved back to Beacon Hills, Stiles just figured he’d hole himself up in his rebuilt mansion, writing his fourth book, never to fulfill Stiles’ endless daydreams about running into him and having the alpha fall madly in love with him.

It’s completely fucking improbable and nonsensical, would never happen in a million years, so of course Stiles somehow winds up in a no-strings-attached agreement with his literary idol, all while eating chicken McNuggets out of his pocket at random intervals and plotting the demise of the McFlurry mixer.


“And Stiles,” he’s addressed directly for the first time since this whole thing started, and when all eyes land on him this time, he just squeezes Derek’s hand and squares his shoulders. He can act like this doesn’t bother him. Derek can do it, and Derek’s here. He’ll be okay. “…how does it feel to know that millions upon millions of people are going to read intimate, private details about your life with Derek?”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Stiles says with a shrug, going for nonchalant and feeling like he’s doing it pretty well. “I knew what I was getting into. Besides – everyone wants Derek Hale to write about them, right?”

The flamingo in the yard  Vendelin

It isn’t fair that Stiles needs to work Christmas, when his dad is on the other side of the country. Or that his really hot, next door neighbour is around for the holidays as well. Or that there’s a power outage that makes things even worse. Or better.

here comes trouble grimm

All Derek wants is one day where he can sleep without worry of being woken by gunfire, without the threat of death hanging over his head. He wants a full stomach and no pain clinging to his bones, no ache in his feet from months of running. He wants a shower, a safe place to put his head. He wants his family, the healing comfort of pack. He’ll never have any of that again.

I Still Believe IAmAVeronica

War is hell.
Falling in love with enemy solider Derek Hale, secretly mating him, and then accidentally being left behind by him when the war suddenly and violently ends is a special kind of hell apparently reserved for one human omega Stiles Stilinski.
But Stiles is determined to find his mate again, because Derek left more than just Stiles in a war-ravaged and werewolf-hating country - and with danger at every turn and nothing but Derek’s gun and his own wits for protection, hell hath no fury like Stiles now.

I Thought You Would Like That Emela

Yeah, that was pretty bad, but what was worse was having spent the last three years pretending to hate Stiles, because it was better than being the guy who failed at emotions and got rejected for them, and now Derek was locked in the same room as him under the promise they would only be let out when they “did something about their sexual tension”.

Derek and Stiles get locked in a room together at an office Christmas party and end doing something about all that unresolved sexual tension.

I’ll Wait Up For You, Dear  WhoNatural

Derek is the Uber driver who always seems to be up when Stiles needs a ride home from work.

If the ley lines you should follow InTheArmsofaThief

And Derek just stood there, staring at Stiles like he was a ghost.

“Dude, I know it’s been a while but you don’t have to look at me like you’re that surprised I’m hung over in the woods. It’s practically a tradition at this point.”

“Stiles?” Derek whispered, the name falling from his lips like a punch to the gut. Stiles watched, confused, as Derek took a deep breath in and took a shaky step forward then back again. “You’re not- you can’t be. Who are you?”

The Moon’s Gonna Follow You Home turningterrific

Derek doesn’t want to call the window repair guy. He doesn’t want to sweep up the glass. He’ll inevitably miss a few shards and pull them out of the bottom of his bare feet for weeks.

He doesn’t want to try to make this place feel like home when it isn’t.

Derek stayed in Beacon Hills and tried to make it work because he wanted pack, wanted purpose. He gave his best effort and found himself back where he started: alone, with a few begrudging allies. He’s tired, and even though his werewolf body heals quickly, he feels the weary ache down to his center.

He packs his car with the few things he cares about enough to drag them from place to place. He locks the loft and calls a realtor about listing the building he’d bought in a misguided attempt to secure a future.

And then he leaves.

The More Things Change  KouriArashi

Ten years ago, there was a major war between the supernatural world and the mundane. Now Beacon Hills is cut off and the Argents are in control, and the supernatural creatures are slowly being hunted down. But when Stiles, who was adopted by the Argents after the death of his parents, makes friends with the Hale Pack, things start to change…

Never Walk Away Dexterous_Sinistrous

Twenty-eight year old federal agent Derek Hale has been out of the family for some time, and he likes it that way. After six years of no contact with Laura, everything changes when Derek is sent back to Beacon Hills to infiltrate his old family.

And that’s how Derek meets Stiles.

Stiles is Peter’s favorite dancer. He’s Peter’s arm candy. He’s his little trophy to flaunt. The son of the one man who almost put Peter away–a cautionary tale for people to heed when thinking about going against Peter. Everyone knows the Sheriff is still in the hospital, his wife in a grave, his son in the devil’s den.

Derek doesn’t buy into it for a second. There is a way Stiles looks at Peter, like he’s the scum of the earth–like he’s a piece of gum stuck on his shoe that he can’t wait to scrape off. There is the way Stiles only lets Peter touch him for so long before he pulls away.

Derek knows that Stiles is there for ulterior motives, but Stiles is smarter than he looks. He’s more determined. If only Derek could get Stiles on his side.

Nothin’ but Blue Skies zjofierose

Scott McCall, “Stiles” Stilinski, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, and Jackson Whittemore are the hot-shot pilots of the USAAF’s Flight Five, based out of southern England in the end of 1943. The tide is maybe starting to turn in the war, but there’s still so many battles left to fight, so many bombs to drop, so many missions to run.

Up-and-coming young photographer Derek Hale of Life Magazine is sent out to do his first war coverage: interviews with and photographs of the brave young men of Alpha Squadron, Flight Five. It’s supposed to be an easy assignment- snap some photos of the boys and their planes, and go home.

But when you’re in the heat of the moment, when you’re faced with life and death, who’s got your back? Who is in that moment with you? When you start to ask that question, it’s after that when nothing is easy again.

Rare Books and Special Collections  KuriKuri

Derek Hale hates libraries.

Unfortunately, not all books can be ordered on Amazon.

(Or: in which Derek is a grumpy omega writer, and Stiles is an annoyingly attractive alpha special collections librarian.)

This Started As Only Make Believe thepsychicclam 

Derek is trying (and failing) to juggle his career, coach lacrosse, and raise his 5 year old werewolf daughter. When he adds his bitter ex-wife and his daughter’sslight attachment to him, Derek knows he doesn’t have any time for a life of his own - and definitely no time for the super cute daycare teacher.

tide pulls from the moon  paintedrecs

When Derek left Beacon Hills, finally ripping the tether free and remembering how to breathe, how to live again, it was Stiles who came after him. Stiles, who showed up at his door with blazing eyes, looking like he wanted to punch him in the face, but wrapping his arms around him instead, making him grunt in surprise at the raw strength of his embrace.

“You asshole,” Stiles said, slapping him heartily on the back as he extricated himself, his voice rough under his bright smile. “You couldn’t have made yourself harder to find, could you?”

You’ll See Me Again Matildajones

Stiles is standing there in his uniform, hair long and hands behind his back. There’s a blush on his cheeks and he can barely look Derek in the eye.

“Hey,” he whispers. He’s wearing the medal Derek had presented to him.

Derek stares. He doesn’t think he’s breathing anymore.

Stiles is the soldier who saved Derek and brought him back home. He doesn’t seem to care that Derek’s a prince or that he’s a little bit broken. Derek falls, quick and sure, but it’s not easy knowing that Stiles will soon have to return to the war.

A Good Decision

Originally posted by lovemusiclifexx

Stiles Stilinski x Reader, Stiles Stlinski x Lydia Martin

Length: 1264 words

Warnings: none

Stiles Stilinski was entranced, as he stared at Y/N from across the hallway, leaning on his locker casually, figurative hearts in his eyes. Eyes trailing the body he was captivated by, he softly smiled, before he caught the figure of Lydia Martin across the way, his long-time crush and recently; a close friend.

Lydia was literally the most beautiful female Beacon Hills High School had seen, with flowing strawberry blonde hair, and full lips that could kiss the life out of a man. She’s the definition of a Queen Bee, with grades as perfect as her being, and a wit as sharp as her brow-game. He didn’t really know what that meant, but had been told by Lydia herself that it was a compliment.

She’d never looked at him though, at least, not until everyone in Beacon Hills lives had gone to shit.

Y/N, however, was new this year, and wasn’t as pretty or as smart as Lydia. But still attractive, especially to him, and the biggest smartass he’d met. And that was coming from him. He’d planned on asking Y/N out, but then he’d had a ‘moment’ with Lydia in a recent werewolf-related chase. They’d held hands, had been pressed close together with a lot of staring and heavy breathing.

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hunger - chapter 14

Hunger master post.

When Stiles is pulled out of the truck nobody bothers catch him, and he stumbles to his knees on a gravel driveway. He looks around quickly. It’s dark, but he can make out trees. They might be on the other side of a chain-link fence, but Stiles can’t be sure. There are no streetlights here. The headlights of the truck illuminate a squat, ugly building. One of the men hauls Stiles to his feet and pulls him toward the building. Stiles struggles to keep pace with the man.

What was it his dad always said? You co-operate to make it easier on you, not on them. Don’t ever be an accomplice in your own murder. Stiles is a cop’s kid. His and his dad’s conversations over dinner would have raised a lot of questions in any other household, but mostly his dad was trying to set him straight after Stiles watched too many shoot-em-up action movies and thought that all it took to escape an entire cabal of armed terrorists was a single handgun and a couple of wisecracks. Which was not, his dad said, the way to survive a hostage situation at all.

Stiles doesn’t think either of them ever would have thought he’d actually need to know this stuff.

The first step is to open a dialog, right? To show them that he’s a person too, with thoughts and feelings and a life as valuable as any other.

“What is this place?” Stiles asks, forcing the words out against his panic.

“Shut your mouth,” the guy says.

So much for building a rapport. Stiles jerks his head in a nod to shows he understands, and concentrates on not stumbling again.

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And Stiles Makes Four #2

Summary: Dean and Sam meet with Chris. 
Characters: Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Melissa McCall, & Chris Argent,
Word Count: 1,532
Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: Tumblr is dumb and won’t let me tag everyone. Miss the beginning?

Scott’s nostrils flared, his attention was no longer on his computer or the fact that Stiles was softly snoring on the bed. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, Stiles could damn near fall asleep anywhere. Scott had to admit that he was slightly jealous of his friend’s ability. He turned to his door and listened intently as a deep-throated rumble of a car grew closer to the house.

Originally posted by thewinchesterdaily

“Shit, just what I need right now.” Scott stood and slapped the still sneakered foot of his best friend.

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The Problem: Part 1

Being Theo’s girlfriend and he cheats on you with Stiles’ girlfriend Malia. You tell Stiles and end up having sex. Then you find out that you’re pregnant.

Based off this imagine 

Part 2


Sorry this took me so long to write!

Warning: This has smut in it, it may be really badly written but it is still there.


You didn’t even bother to knock, opening his front door and barging right into Stiles’ house. He was the only person that would able to sympathize with what you just saw, plus he needed to find out for himself.

Flash back:

You had decided to surprise you boyfriend, Theo, by showing up at his house. He had told you earlier that day that he wasn’t feeling so hot and he was just going to spend Saturday at home. But he always took care of you when you were sick so you wanted to repay him the favor.

With the front door to his house unlocked you walked right in, trying to be quite so as not to wake him if he was resting. Walking up the stairs you could hear noise coming from his room, like something was shaking. Quickening your pace you opened his bedroom door to make sure everything was alright… and for Theo maybe it was- but not for you. Your eyes quickly landed on what was making all the racket: Theo and some girl you couldn’t see quite yet under the blankets atop his bed.

His door had hit is wall after you opened, making your presence known.  Theo sat up straight to see you standing at the door, the girl with him following his movements, who was none other than your best friend’s girlfriend Malia.

“(Y/n) it’s not what it looks like,” Theo started off.

“Sure Theo sure,” you began walking backwards to the door to leave. “Cause you definitely weren’t just having sex with Stiles’ girlfriend. I can’t believe you guys would stoop so low,” you finished, looking to both Theo and Malia this time.

You hauled it, running out of his house, with Theo trying to catch up with you calling your name. But you couldn’t stay after what just happened and you knew just where you needed to go… Stiles.

End of Flashback…

Once you reached his bedroom door you opened it, with the image of your boyfriend cheating still on your mind. Trying to push it out you looked around the room for Stiles, to find him lying on his bed sleeping. You meandered quietly, making your way over to his bed, trying not to wake him up.

Sitting down softly next to him on the bed you noticed how peaceful his face looked, compared to when he was awake; he was always so stressed about one pack thing or another. Just imagining having to tell him his girlfriend was cheating on him made you feel guilty. He was never someone you wanted to hurt, even if it was indirectly, but you needed to tell him.

“Am I really that hot that you take enjoyment staring at me while I sleep?” Stiles joked, bringing you out of your thought.

You wiped your face, knowing it was stained from tears still rolling down your cheeks, before turning to look at him trying to put a smile on your face.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked before you could even begin, bringing you down to a laying position on the bed holding you in his arms.

“It’s nothing I just…” you didn’t really know how to tell him. “I just need to tell you something

He shook his head motioning for you to continue, still holding you, now wiping tears away from your face.

“So… I had gone over to Theo’s earlier today because he had told me he didn’t feel well and I wanted to check up on him. Anyway when I had opened the door to his room I found him in there, with another girl… in his bed, naked,” you started, while trying to think of a way to tell Stiles that the girl was Malia.

“Oh (y/n), I’m so sorry. He never deserved yo-” you cut him off before he could finish, knowing that you just had to get it over with.

“The girl was Malia,” you kinda shouted, wanting it to be done with as quickly as possible.

“Oh… I see,” Stiles mumbled with a bleak look on his face.

He appeared numb and sad, almost as if he could break into tears at any moment. It broke your heart seeing him like this; you no longer cared as much about getting back at Theo as you did Malia for hurting Stiles. His face suddenly contorted, almost angry, along with something else that was so clear.

“How could she?” Stiles sat up on his bed now. “How could they? Why would they ever do this to us?”

Changing your position to match his you tried to think of a response, but nothing came to mind; he had every right to be mad and upset, so did you. Nothing can fix what they had done. While you were still deep in thought, trying to find a way to console you friend, he jumped out of bed and began pacing his room.

“Hey Stiles… Whatcha doing?” his behavior startling you slightly.

Looking up at you now, with a slightly maniacally and conniving look in his brown eyes, he began, “Thinking of a way to get back at them. They both deserve to pay, don’t you think?”

Knowing the nature of his question to be rhetorical you only nodded along with him, trying to figure out what idea he had up his sleeve.

“I’ve got it,” he said sounding like an excited little kid, before his nature changed to a much more serious tone. “This involves both of us, but you need tell me if you don’t want to and I will completely understand.  And you need to know that this current situation is not the only reason I would want to do this. Honestly I have always wanted to-,“  you suddenly cut him off. 

“Stiles just tell me what it is!” your tone of speech coming out in a very commanding way.

“Ok well… I think we should, well… you know,” Stiles tried to explain giving some indistinguishably gestures.

He began carrying on trying to tell you, clearly nervous about whatever it was, until you finally figured it out; Stiles wanted to do exactly what they had done to you, give them a taste of their own medicine, in other terms have sex. You were definitely down for that; you had always had a crush on stiles, but after Malia came in to picture and they began dating you felt like you had to get over him, so in comes Theo, the perfect guy, or so you thought. Even in the time since you began dating him Stiles just became more attractive, manlier. So, after coming to the conclusion, you realized Stiles was still talking, although more to himself now. Although he looked adorable, you wanted to get down to business; walking over to him you decided you should just start it, so you surprised him and leaned in and planted your lips on his.

“So is that a yes to my plan?” Stiles asked once you had broken away.

“Yes,” you stated putting your arms around his neck.

Not having recommenced with your kissing yet you looked up into Stiles’ eyes, brimming with fire and lust, spreading the feeling to you.

Suddenly Stiles’ arms were around your waist, kissing you again; although this time he had taken the dominant spot. You had no objections, doing what you knew he wanted, opening your lips so that he was able to put his tongue in, intermixing with yours.

His hand began to wander further south from your hips, firmly grasping your butt, causing you to let out a light squeak to which you could feel Stiles smirking into the kiss. The noise had clearly pushed him; now wanting to make you moan again his lips began trailing away from the kiss, leaving kisses down your neck finding any weak spots. Once Stiles had landed on one of your most sensitive places you couldn’t help but let out the loudest moan so far that night, the tingling feeling and pleasure from him continuing to suck on it overwhelming you. You noticed his seemed to quickly take a look at them, then deciding that there were enough love bites he moved on.  

Pushing you backwards toward his bed he began to move his head lower on your chest, raining kisses on the soft skin. Feeling the bed against your legs you pulled away, removing your shirt then tugging on Stiles. Once haven thrown it across the room he picked you up, the look of his muscles flexing turning you on even more. Laying you down on the bed he moved in between your legs, looking like a predator ready to take down his prey as he stared at you deciding where to move to next.

Moving to where Stiles had left off before he was interrupted, he began to kiss your chest again, only this time moving down to your breast. Rubbing them from outside of your bra and kissing the part that was visible, making you impatient. You yearned to feel his skin touch what your bra kept hidden, the separation being too much you moved forward to unclip your bra, throwing it to the floor. Settling into the bed again you shifted upwards to where the boy was gaping after what had just been unveiled to him. Reality hitting him he moved down, connecting his mouth to one side while one of his hands went to the other.

 “Stiles” you moaned as you instinctively moved your hands to his soft brown hair wanting more, trying to push him closer to your breasts . He chuckled, switching from one side to the other, continuing the same thing; sucking on your nipple only to move off of it and blow cold air on it, surprising you with the feeling, then his tongue moving lightly over, to then just repeat it all again.

You began to get antsy, despite enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your chest you wanted it somewhere else, you needed it somewhere else. Finally not being able to handle it you begged him, “Stiles… plea- please, I-I need more.” Your words not coming out terribly clear from being interrupted by whimpers and moans.

Sitting up, no longer touching you, he took in your appearance. The fact that he already had you so disheveled only made the bulge in his pants grow in size.  He leaned back down to you, putting his lips right by your ear and speaking in a rough, deep voice he began to talk, “Where baby? Where do you want me?” He teased you moving his hand lower on your body, finally reaching you core; he commenced rubbing you lightly through your pants, just enough so you could feel it. “Is this where you need me?” he spoke into your ear again. You couldn’t respond, to immersed in the feeling of his finger against you, so close to where you want him.

Suddenly he pulled away, leaving you whimpering from the lack of touch, he then moved back look at you. “I can’t hear you (y/n). I asked if that was where you needed me,” Stiles said, noticeably portraying his dominance in the relationship. It made complete since to you, with Malia he was the weaker one, putting a damper on his manliness, but with you, who was just a human, he clearly had the upper hand.  

Focusing back to the moment at hand, now finally able to talk, you gave Stiles an answer, “Right there. I need you so badly.” You really did, it drove you crazy being so turned on with no one touching you. Stiles moved, pulling your pants down your legs, your undies coming with them. You began being flooded with feelings of self-consciousness, as he moved down right in front of your core, hands spreading your legs out. Before you were able to do anything about it, he moved. His finger going up and down along you slit, you shut your eyes trying not to moan. “Wow you’re so wet (y/n). Who did this to you?” He asked, now moving in finger inside you. The change in his placement stopping you as you tried to give him an answer. Adding another finger, but now slowing down teasing you he asked again, “Was it Theo? Can he make you feel this good?” Somehow managing to pull yourself to together you answered him, “No, it’s you Stiles, it’s all you.”  

Your words seemingly on increased his interested in continuing to tease you, slowing down even more, if possible. His antics soon became too much, not fulling your needs. “Fuck me Stiles. I just need you in me.”

Following your request without speaking, he pushed his pants off, then getting back on top of you, to finally positioned himself before pushing in. Stiles started off slow, checking to make sure you were comfortable. “Faster,” you moaned out, needing your release. Your legs wrapped around his hips as he began to drive into you at considerable faster than before. Your grip on his biceps tightened that he started hitting your g-spot. “Yes, fuck, right there.” His increasing speed and continuous movements were bringing you close to the edge. Knowing you were closing he reached down to rub your clit, trying to get you even closer. Almost at the tipping point you began arching your back at the unbelievable feelings Stiles brought to you. Suddenly he just hit the right spot and that was it, your eyes rolled back as your nails scratched up his back, moaning out his name among other things. He dragged it out as long as possible, finally letting go himself.

He rolled off you, both trying to slow down their breathing.

“Wow,” Stiles huffed out still calming down.

“That was amazing,” you spoke snuggling into his side.

A few weeks later:

Lydia trailed out of the bathroom after you. Recently you had begun to get sick, and of course it seemed it happen more at school than anywhere else. With Lydia’s help you had already deduced it to you being pregnant.

“Well, have you told Theo yet?” Lydia asked in a very concerned manner.

Neither Stiles nor you had told anyone about what happened, both deciding that you needed time to sort through what was happening in your other relationships. You had planned on breaking up with Theo, but you found out that Stiles had given Malia a second chance. Realizing that your moment together didn’t mean as much to him as it did to you, you decided to stay with Theo, knowing that you still needed a distraction.

“Well, that’s the problem,” you started turning to look at your best friend. “I don’t know if it’s his.”

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lavenderek  asked:

i wish you would write a fic where everything i want to happen happens and nothing i don't want to happen happens

nothing about this makes sense but your “derek hale bird collection” is so delightfully random and entertains me every time i see it

An argument could be made that Stiles is to blame for every single one of Derek’s current problems. He did, after all, hold an impromptu - unauthorized - seance in the vet clinic and then forgot to blow out the candles, but the resulting inferno is not actually Derek’s problem. No, Derek’s problems lie with Scott.

And birds.

“Everyone loves puppies and kitties, right?” Scott explains. “They’re easy to find temporary homes for. Birds, though…” he trails off, looking tragic.

According to Deaton, all the near-by clinics and shelters are overfull. Derek suspects he just doesn’t want to call any of his colleagues and say, “My assistant’s dumbass friend burned my clinic down. Have any extra kennel space?” Derek doesn’t blame him.

“Why can’t Stiles take them?” Derek asks. Sighs, really. “Or literally anyone else?”

“Stiles and his dad are taking a few of the dogs and all the rabbits, I’m taking the rest of the dogs, and the cats are being divided up between Allison and Kira. Lydia says she’s allergic to everything, so she’s not taking anything. I swear she had a dog once, though.” He pauses, then shrugs. “I don’t know. You can take it up with her if you want.”

All he asks is, “How many birds are we talking here, exactly?” because apparently he’s gone soft in his old age.

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Boys Are Jerks

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Request: 23 with Stiles and lots and lots of fluff please!! :) 

#23: “Thanks for lending me your jacket. It’s…really warm”

Author’s Note: I know it’s been a few days since I got something up, but I hope this makes up for it! Enjoy :)

Warnings: Language; fluff; talk of break-ups


Roscoe’s headlights shining from around the corner had me letting out a sigh of relief. After rubbing my hands together furiously to bring some feeling into my fingers, I opened my door and stepped out into the cold just as the Jeep came a stop behind my car.

“Hey, you alright?” Stiles asked as he jumped out, reaching me in just a few long strides. I nodded, looking at my vehicle with a mixture of sadness and annoyance.

“Yeah, fine. Just freezing. I don’t know what’s wrong with her, she just started making some weird spluttering noise and then died. I barely had enough of a warning to make it to the side of the road,” I explained. Stiles pursed his lips, walking to the front of the car so he could get a look under the hood. After producing a flashlight from his sweatshirt pocket, he lifted it up and stuck his head in. “Thanks again for coming, Stiles. I just didn’t know who else to call, and-”

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anonymous asked:

can i have a present, betp? like a sterek ficlet perhaps?? :) *pleading eyes*

You can share this one with Julie, because although it is ostensibly for her, she may decide to regift it.

Scene: It’s a beautiful, traditional winter night in NorCal on Christmas Eve: while Bing Crosby warbles White Christmas on Stiles’ laptop, outside it is raining torrentially. Stiles’ cat, Kotek, studiously licks his balls in front of the fireplace. There’s no fire in it, because California is a smogged-up fire hazard, but there is a tasteful space heater. There is one stocking pinned to the mantle, and it has Kotek written on it in glitter glue. White Christmas ends, and because it was a Youtube video, nothing plays after it. If Stiles notices, he doesn’t do anything about it. He’s looking down, fidgeting idly with Derek’s hand, preoccupied with the shape and weight of it. Derek lets this happen. He’s accustomed himself to physical affection from Stiles, because Stiles has poor impulse control and is pretty bad at reading social cues; so he would reach out to Derek, and Derek would react with confusion, and Stiles would misinterpret this as rejection and not reach out to him again for a while. Derek got tired of that. “Do you believe in Santa?” Stiles asks eventually.

Derek is quiet for a long minute. The room is silent, except for the whirring of the space heater; the pattering rain; the gentle rhythm of their hearts; and the slurping of Kotek around his own balls. Finally, perplexed, “Is that a real question?”

“Oh my god,” says Stiles, “yeah, it’s a real question. Seriously? Am I four?”

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Per usual, it’s all Stiles’ fault.

But, as his dad kindly pointed out, who would think that a kettle would end up turning someone into a cat? What kind of witch curses a fucking kettle?

If Stiles could speak, he would have yelled out ‘a crazy one!’, but as it is he only hisses and sinks his claws – ugh – into the surprisingly comfy sofa cushion, pointedly avoiding the glare Derek throws his way.

“I’m sorry!” The crazy witch says for the tenth time. “I wanted to make water boil quicker, but I think I must have read the wrong spell.”

‘You think?’ Stiles hisses, but is completely ignored.

Scott collapses on the couch next to him, drops a hand over the fluffy fur that now covers his head and scratches it softly.

Later, Stiles will be angry with himself for giving in and purring, but for now it just feels too damn good to care.

“So what do we do?” Scott says. “How do we reverse it?”

Crazy witch gives them a guilty smile and Derek groans. “You don’t know?”

“I’m sorry!” She exclaims again. “I’m going to call my mom tomorrow morning, I swear!”

“Tomorrow?” Scott groans, holding Stiles’ back so he won’t jump on the woman and claw her eyes out. “Easy, kitty, she’s – ouch! He bit me!”

Stiles jumps out of Scott’s hold, huffing. Kitty, ugh.

“What are we gonna do with him until then?” Derek asks, arms crossed over his chest.

That’s what annoyed must smell like, Stiles figures as he gets close to Derek. It’s nice, being able to smell him, but that must be only because Derek just took a shower, even though Derek sweaty and dirty is something Stiles is weirdly attracted to, he probably won’t smell as good like that.

Although, he sniffs Derek’s leg, barely stops himself from rubbing his entire face over it, Derek must smell good in any way. For Stiles, at least.

The loft is silent, suspiciously so, and when Stiles glances up, he notices they are all staring at him, Scott and the witch both with amused looks on their faces.

As Stiles runs to hide under a chair, he wonders if cats are able to blush.

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A little something for @madahenriques who has not been having the best time at the moment, and whose birthday it also is! Happy Birthday, sweetheart. I hope you like mates, jealous!Derek and cheesy love confessions. I blame @halewithstilinski‘s post for the direction this took. 

Derek tries not to look as Stiles dances with yet another guy. Erica is beside him, encouraging him with hip checks and cat calls and- why, dear god, why- booty slaps until Boyd thankfully pulls her away. There is only so many times Derek can hear “shake that money maker, Stilinski” and not have the urge to rip the person’s throat out Stiles is shaking his “money maker” at.

He’s not possessive. Well, no more than werewolves usually are. He thinks. Stiles can dance with who he wants. Fuck, he can sleep with who he wants, that’s not Derek’s decision, but it’s more than a little hard to see your mate grinding up against other people and oozing contentment all the while looking over at you every other five minutes. Derek gets Stiles likes to make sure he isn’t trying to sneak out on what has been, horribly, called “shake your groove thing night”, but still, way to unintentionally rub a guy’s face in it.  

Derek hopes it’s unintentional anyway.

Mates aren’t as common the books make it out to be, and it’s just Derek’s luck he not only ended up with one, but also fell hopelessly in love with him (to quote just about every cheesy romantic movie ever made).

Romantic mates are even less common. Usually mates are just people you have a special bond with; you feel everything more keenly with them, for them. You are connected to them in a way you aren’t with anyone else, but it doesn’t have to mean anything. Until you are stupid enough to fall in love with them, that is.

Derek knows it’s not impossible to get over a mate, but the problem isn’t Stiles being Derek’s mate, it’s the fact he’s Derek’s Stiles. That loud mouthed, annoying, persistent kid. That stupidly loyal, funny and crazy smart kid. That kid who is no longer a kid but a twenty-two year old grown ass man who clearly didn’t focus all his energies on studying in college (if the way his hips are moving is anything to go by).

Derek truly, desperately, tries not to whine, nostalgic for the days when he found it easier to tear his gaze away from Stiles.

In fact, he is so focused on maintaining his usual, indifferent highly preferred (he doesn’t care what the therapy books say about it being a defensive mechanism) persona (that is apparently fooling no-one these days, not even Scott), he doesn’t even notice when two perfect- fuck, why are they so perfect- mole speckled hands take his.

“Stiles,” Derek grunts, taking a moment before he looks up, scared of the heat he can feel rising on his cheeks at the skin to skin contact.

Derek used to think Stiles was a tactile person, the kind of guy who always got up in your space, but he’s noticed in the last few years how much Stiles shies away from the people he loves. The Nogitsune played a big part in that, Derek knows, but it’s not being afraid to touch anyone Stiles is wary of, like Derek so often is. It’s being scared people will reject that touch. He’s seen it, over and over, and he’s spent countless moments trying to figure out a way to give Stiles a hug without making it into the big deal it is, but stealth was never one of his strong suits. So he leaves it alone, even though it physically hurts him to watch Stiles holding himself back, holding himself away, when Derek sees he needs it. Having a stranger touch you is never the same, Derek thinks he knows that better than anyone.

Which is why Stiles doing something as simple as taking Derek’s hands makes his heart skip more beats than is probably healthy, because Stiles touching him like this, so freely, so easily, means he trusts Derek. Trusts him with something far more precious than his life. He trusts him with his trust, something Stiles rarely gives to anyone. If he ever gives anyone these days.

And then suddenly something changes, because one moment Stiles is holding his hands and the next he is slipping his arms around Derek’s waist, pulling him in, pulling him against him. It’s heaven and hell and everything in between.

Derek swallows. “Stiles, what are you doing?”

“I’m tired of playing hard to get,” he says, simply. Fact, even though Derek can smell his nerves. “Everyone keeps telling me this is something, so if it isn’t you have tell me now.”

Derek’s eyes flick up and sure enough, the whole pack is watching them. The assholes.

“Everyone?” he asks, a pointless question.

Stiles nods, eyes slowly scanning Derek’s face, lazy and unhurried like he could look at him forever. It makes Derek shiver.

“Everyone,” he repeats, licking his lips. “But it’s not polite to assume things. So?”

“So,” Derek whispers, dumbstruck, distracted, at how soft Stiles’ mouth looks this close up. Has it always looked that soft?

Rolling his eyes, Stiles leans in closer. “You and me,” he breathes, slowly, like a confession. “We could be…” He looks down.

“Good?” Derek finishes, breath catching because, wait.


“I love you,” Stiles says, shrugging, like it’s no big deal, even though Derek can hear Stiles’ heart racing over the music. Can hear it thudding. It’s the most erratic he has ever heard it and maybe it’s not the right time to smile, not when Stiles is looking at him like he thinks Derek is about to crush him, but he can’t help it. He feels drunk.

No, he feels happy.

“In Mexico,” Derek says, shakily bringing one hand up to cup Stiles’ face. “I- you heard me, right? What I said?”

Stiles frowns. “What you said?” he asks, clearly not understanding.


Derek blinks, confused. “You turned back, I…thought you heard me.”

“No,” Stiles shakes his head. “I mean, I thought-” He sucks in a breath, once, fast. “You mean-?”

“I said-” Derek begins, but his throat closes up, just like it did that night. “I said-” he tries again, but still, nothing happens. “I said-”

“It’s okay, I think I get it,” Stiles smiles, taking his hands again, and that’s all Derek needs to hear before he leans in and kisses him.

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anonymous asked:

if you are looking for prompts though, i have one~ (i've been deprived of h/c lately so) derek and stiles college au. go on a school skiing trip with some classmates and then get separated in the middle of a snow storm. injured!stiles and getting together ficlet?

His first thought is that he always knew physical activity would kill him.

His second thought is that he really hopes Scott remembers that conversation they had when they were fifteen about erasing each other’s browser history in the event of an untimely death.

“Hello?” Stiles calls out. “Can anyone hear me? This is literally a cry for help.”

He doesn’t hear anything in return, but that doesn’t mean much. The wind has kicked up quite a bit since he started his run down the mountain. Plus, his hearing was doomed from the moment he got his first Walkman. He just needs to keep making noise, maybe make his way closer to the ski path he was supposed to stay on, and someone would hear him, right?

Stiles flops onto his stomach with a string of very inventive curses. Okay, so maybe crawling was out, if flipping over makes the pain in his ankle flair up so much he feels every muscle in his body tense up.

“Is someone out there?” he hears someone call out from just beyond the trees. It’s faint, but it’s there. He could cry.

“Yes, hello! I’m here!” Stiles shouts.

Eventually, after a few minutes of shouting back and forth, his savior walks out from the line of trees and into his line of sight.

Of course it would be Derek Hale.

“You know, actually I think I’m fine here. You can go. I’m sure someone else will be along shortly,” Stiles says.

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing out here?” Derek asks, completely ignoring him.

“Taking a nap, what do you think?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’m assuming you can’t walk?” At Stiles’ irritated glare, he says, “Right. Leg or ankle?”

“Ankle,” Stiles groans as he rolls over. By the time he sits up, he’s panting. He’s going to Aruba next Winter Break. Fuck the rest of his friends.

“Alright. I’m going to throw you over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry-”

“Yes, I know what a fireman’s carry is.”

“-because I think it’ll jostle your ankle less. Sound good?”

Stiles nods petulantly because it’s just not the same when Derek isn’t being an asshole back, and then he’s staring at Derek’s back and resolutely trying not to throw up because holy shit his ankle is being a spiteful motherfucker right now.

“What were you even doing out here?” Stiles asks after they’ve been walking for a few minutes.

“Hiking,” Derek says after a beat.

“Hiking?” Stiles asks skeptically. “Really, that’s what you’re going with? Because I’m pretty sure Scott and I were some of the last people allowed on the lift before they shut it down for the storm. What, are normal mountains not enough for you? You have to add in the extra challenge of a blizzard to keep things interesting?”

Derek sighs. “Fine. When you didn’t come back with Scott, I figured you’d managed to hurt yourself in some way, so I came looking for you. Turns out I was right. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Oh.” Stiles is unexpectedly warmed by the thought that Derek would venture out into the cold to make sure he was okay.

From the moment Derek introduced himself as Scott’s pot-luck dorm roommate, Stiles has been trying to figure him out. On the one hand, Derek is a colossal dick. He’s standoffish, quick-tempered, and often just downright rude. Especially to Stiles. On the other hand, though, he goes and does things like look for him in a snow storm and literally carry him down the mountain. It’s confusing.

When they reach the bottom, Derek heads straight for his car and takes Stiles to the hospital. It takes a couple of hours, but he gets checked over for frostbite and a neon green cast wrapped around his ankle.

“So,” Stiles kicks his foot out towards Derek when he hobbles his way into the waiting area, “how does it look?”

“Like it’ll go with everything,” Derek deadpans.

Stiles laughs. “I know, right? It’s just so subtle.”

He takes a seat next to Derek because they’re going to be stuck there until the storm dies down enough for them to safely get back to the lodge.

“Thanks, by the way.” Stiles fidgets with the magazines on the table in front of him. Why do they need three copies of Time, anyway?

“No problem,” Derek says gently. When Stiles looks up, Derek’s smiling a little.

He’s in so much trouble.

“So,” Stiles clears his throat, “how do you propose we kill time?”

“I could think of a few ways,” Derek says, barely above a whisper.

Stiles barely gets out, “Oh, yeah. Okay,” before Derek’s lips are on his and they’re both sort of chapped from the cold but it doesn’t matter because damn.

“So that happened,” Stiles laughs nervously when they break apart because on the list of things he figured might happen during this vacation, gaining the ability to speak with animals was probably higher on the list than Derek kissing him.

“Finally,” Derek huffs out a laugh.

“Wait, what? What do you mean, finally?”

Derek gives him an unimpressed look, but it turns confused after a moment. “You- I’ve wanted to do that since freshman year. Did you really not know?”

“Know?” Stiles flails. “If I had known we could have been making out instead of driving each other crazy for three years, I would have been on you so fast you would have gotten whiplash.”

“So,” Derek frowns, confused. “Are you saying you’re okay with this?”

“You are infuriating,” Stiles mutters, wrapping a hand around the back of Derek’s neck and pulling him in for a forceful kiss.

Derek happily complies.

petals42  asked:

sterek. horse barn. AU ME PLEASE ILY!

Gratuitous liberty has been taken with the layouts of stables and the rules of horse riding lessons. Lalala. ENJOY ♥

Derek’s going to kill Laura. He’s going to kill her so hard that she’ll still be feeling it in her next ten lifetimes. Not only is she forcing him to wear a cast on his arm – his class had witnessed him breaking it and his sister, after laughing hysterically for ten full minutes, had insisted he needed to confirm to at least the appearance of normal time frames for healing – but she hired a replacement for the six weeks or so that he has to wear it.

 The only classes he has at the moment are for kids – it isn’t as though he’s attempting to tutor anyone in show jumping or dressage or anything: Derek could handle six weeks of easy lessons, broken arm be damned, but no, Laura has to go and hire Stiles.

 Stiles has been around for a few days, getting to know the layout of the ranch and acquainting himself with their horses. Stiles has taken every opportunity to gang up on Derek with Laura; has delighted in rendering Derek surly and speechless with the way he talks, the way he moves.

 Stiles, in his plaid shirt and well-made boots. Stiles, with his infuriating smirk and firm thighs.

 Wait, he’s getting off track.

 Point is, Derek doesn’t need someone to take over his lessons – he’s perfectly capable of handling a good-natured horse and a handful of eight year olds, all determined to be the best rider Juniper’s ever had. He doesn’t need this.

 This being the way Stiles watches the last of the kids being herded into their parents’ cars at the end of his first lesson; this being the way Stiles turns to Juniper and grins at her, dropping his forehead against hers and smoothing his hands along her neck. She flicks an ear and nudges against him contentedly. Traitor.

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