anonymous asked:

Hi, is there any other fics like The Boy Who Tamed the Sourwolf, in terms of Derek being a good alpha and Stiles becoming part of his pack rather than Scott's?

Here are a few you might enjoy!

Can’t rely on me by Littleredridinghunter

Set at the end of season 2, Gerard beats Stiles up, but it’s a lot worse than anyone knows.

The pack let him down, that’s not really a surprise lately.

When Danny finds Stiles nearly bleeding to death the next day it’s the start of a beautiful friendship.

Can the pack make amends before it’s too late? Will Stiles ever forgive them for not being there for him when he needed them the most?

To Build a Home (Of Sorts) by nogitsune_lichen

The words were stuck on loop, Stiles’ broken voice repeating them over and over. Derek didn’t realize he was crying until he let out a broken noise, so low he could barely hear it himself. His hands dug into his eyes trying to stop the flow but the tears kept coming. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t be strong like he’s supposed to be.

He was weak. So weak.

He walked away from the only person that felt like home.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but acknowledge that by the time he got back, his home would be miles away, once again leaving him all alone.

///

Or the healing/getting together AU that involves building a house together and a healthy dose of angst.

Stop Crossing Oceans by howl-to-the-wind (greenleaf)

“There are no absolutes, Scott! No hard rights or hard wrongs! The world doesn’t fucking work that way and we can’t afford to think like that, because people are going to die! We signed up for that the moment we got involved with all this!”

“We? We?” Scott hisses. “Don’t you think you? Don’t forget that you’re the one who dragged us into that forest the night it all started, Stiles. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”

Something inside Stiles cracks, so strong and so deep that he practically hears it.

Anthracite by LupusScintilla (inkandblade)

It’s been a quiet few years, and the McCall Pack has grown and settled. But, when the Hale Pack return to Beacon Hills they find Scott isn’t as welcoming as they had hoped.

Soon they, Stiles, and Lydia, find out that not everything about the McCall Pack is as it has always seemed.

So I just reblogged this post:

I JUST SERVED A CUSTOMER AND THEY WERE PURCHASING A CUCUMBER AND THEY WENT

“It’s for Valentine’s Day”

I REPLIED

“You must be lonely?”

THEY REALISED WHAT I MEANT AND NOW I’M SAT WITH A COMPLAINANT FORM IN FRONT OF ME.

And now I’m just imagining Derek Hale at the supermarket at like nine at night on Feb. 13, innocently going through the checkout with his cucumber…..

*

It’s nine at night on February 13 when this hot-like-burning guy in a leather jacket comes up to Stiles’ lane at the supermarket and plops down a single cucumber and a crumpled dollar bill on the belt.

Stiles hefts it. “Uh, just this?”

The guy nods and offers, “It’s, um, for Valentine’s Day.”

Stiles blurts, “You must be lonely,” because this is his brain on less than three hours of sleep, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. College sucks.

Cucumber Guy’s eyes widen behind his thick-framed glasses (glasses that do nothing to diminish his attractiveness, unfortunately) and he just stands there staring at Stiles, color flooding to his cheeks.

Stiles replays what he just said in his head and mentally slaps himself. “No, wait, that’s not—”

Cucumber Guy just shakes his head, takes his cucumber and his receipt, and walks away.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I wish you would write an outsider POV Sterek, maybe from their neighbor's POV?

This is embarrassing.

Holy, fuckmuffins, this is embarrassing. She should not do this. She should turn around and go back home. She should just be at home. Forever. She can order groceries from Amazon and socialize with people over the internet and she thinks she could be very happy to just live at home. It would be fun. 

Also, she would be alive. Because she is not sure she will be after all is said and done. 

She gets to their door and then seriously considers just turning around. It would make her a fundamentally bad person but she could be okay with that. 

Ugh.

No she can’t.

She takes a deep breath, wishes that Jenny wasn’t at her father’s this weekend because maybe a cute little four year old would help, and then knocks anyway. On her next door neighbor’s door. 

It had to be her next dooor neighbor. Someone who she will probably have to see again. 

And, of course, Murder Man opens it. He is already glaring at her.

He is going to kill her

“Hello?” he asks and she realizes she has just been standing there. Staring. Which, like fair, he is gorgeous but mostly she’s staring because it is just now occurring to her that she should have told someone where she is going before just coming over to share this bad news. 

“H-hi,” she says finally. “My name is Tammy and I live in number 406–right next door actually and I-I’m so sorry but I’ve just… I’ve just scratched your car.”

Keep reading

“If she puts her phone on the table face down, she’s a whore.”

… Fuck no, you have it all wrong. She just reads gay fanfiction. Geez.

little spoon

To save money while attending college in NYC, Stiles and Derek decide to rent one tiny apartment together. With one bed.

*whispers* I have no idea if any of this is realistic. Don’t judge me.

You guys know by now that practically everything I write is so so fluffy, but this is just like, a whole other level. A little over 4k words of enemies-to-lovers, bed-sharing, & cuddling. ;)  

on ao3

*

The thing is, Stiles is pretty sure he can’t afford to breathe the air in New York City, let alone rent an apartment there. But it’s also been his lifelong dream to go to NYU, same as his mom, and he’s just gotten his acceptance letter in the mail along with a hefty scholarship offer. So he has a bit of a conundrum on his hands.

Enter Derek, who has a (relatively) dirt cheap apartment in Queens.

Okay, so Derek calls it an “apartment.” Stiles calls it an “attic closet.”

It’s nothing but a narrow bed, a foot or so of walking space between that and the wall, and a lone shelf by the door to hold the microwave and all of Derek’s possessions that can’t fit under the bed. There’s not even enough room to open the door all the way; the edge of the door hits the edge of the bed, and then you have to shimmy into the room.

The sad thing is that Stiles can’t even afford that.

He can, however, afford half of it.

“So you’re going to share a bed,” Scott says, looking concerned.

“Yes,” Stiles says.

“No,” Derek says at the same time.

Scott looks more concerned.

Stiles sighs. “Okay, so it’s like this. Derek’s going to be doing the whole normal person schedule, up at the buttcrack of dawn” (Derek rolls his eyes) “and out working and studying and stuff all day and back in bed asleep by 11 pm, and I’m going to be taking all evening classes and working the night shift!”

“We won’t actually ever be in the same place at the same time,” Derek clarifies. “He gets it during the day; I get it at night.”

“Because we can’t stand each other,” Stiles adds, in case Scott is thinking of getting his hopes up that this whole roommates thing is going to be some kind of bromance.

Keep reading

Originally posted by adoring-fictional-characters

Stiles laid back against the sheets, staring up at the uneven surface of the ceiling. The words fell from his lips before he could stop them, “Hey, Derek, have you ever kissed a guy?”

Stiles’ heart lurched as he realised what he had said.

Derek thought about it for a moment, lying still next to Stiles. He replied, “No, I haven’t. I have done some things - dancing at clubs, drinking with guys and some… intimacies - but no, I haven’t ever kissed a guy.”

“Have you ever wanted to?” Stiles asked. “Like, to see how it felt? To know whether you get that flutter in your stomach or that warmth?”

“I don’t know,” Derek admitted. “I guess it depends.”

Stiles rolled onto his side, his whiskey-coloured eyes meeting Derek’s gaze, his rosy pink lips growing closer as he said, “If I, a guy, were to kiss you right now, would you want me to?”

Derek wanted as Stiles’ lips quivered with his warm breath. He swallowed hard, losing himself in the golden depths of Stiles’ eyes.

“I guess it depends,” Derek repeated.

“On what?”

“On whether it means something,” Derek whispered. “On whether you like me or I like you. If not, then it’s just a kiss; it means nothing.”

“And if it means something?”

Derek’s heart beat against his chest, his ribs aching as his mind screamed at him to end the torment, lean forward and seize Stiles before he lost his opportunity.

“Does it mean something?” Stiles asked before Derek could. “If I were to say I liked you, would you-?”

Stiles’ question fell short as Derek cupped the back of his head and pulling him closer. He brought their lips together, shattering the tension as Stiles relaxed into the kiss.

It was a blistering warmth and a flutter in his stomach, but at the same time it felt so right; it felt normal, like this is how it should be.

After a moment, Derek broke away from the kiss.

Stiles rested his forehead against Derek’s their shaky breaths mingling and playing across their lips.

“I’d say it back,” Derek confessed.

A sweet smile lifted the corners of Stiles’ lips as he craned his neck and brought their lips together again in a tender, slow kiss.

my good friend @lena221b recently reminded me of a series of drabbles i wrote in response to anon asks aaaaages ago. i couldn’t find the original posts (we’re talking years ago, that’s too much scrolling for one mortal girl) so i decided to lump them all together here. the following are a few short snippets of derek and stiles’ life together. in my head they’re all part of the same universe. enjoy!


“I dream about riding you sometimes.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.

Stiles doesn’t seem to notice, just tries to roll himself back over. ‘Tries’ being the operative word, because he somehow manages to get himself tangled in his hoodie and then he’s just struggling on the ground with his head trapped in the sleeve.

Ordinarily Derek would help him, would feel guilty about dropping him in the first place, but right now he’s too preoccupied with choking on his own spit.

Stiles fights his way out of his clothing and gazes up at Derek.

“You’re so big though, I’m not even sure I could get my legs around you.”

Can werewolves go into cardiac arrest? Because it’s happening, Derek’s pretty sure it’s happening.

“And you’re so strong, too. I bet I could just climb up on there and you could keep going for hours.”

Stiles smacks his lips and wiggles on the forest floor and seems completely unconcerned with the way Derek’s world is rearranging itself around him.

“Such a scary wolfy,” Stiles mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. “You’re also really fluffy though.” He reaches out and starts patting Derek’s boot. “Preeeetty.”

Derek steps carefully away from Stiles and smashes his head into the nearest tree. A cut appears on his eyebrow and then heals before he’s even wiped the blood away. Because Stiles is talking about riding Derek in his wolf form. Like he’s some kind of glorified pony. And Derek is so pathetically gone on this boy that he’d let him. He’d growl and snarl and snap his jaws and then he’d get down on his haunches and carry Stiles wherever he wanted to go.

He’s absolutely, definitively not disappointed that Stiles isn’t talking about riding him in his human form because that would be gross and creepy and taking advantage of Stiles’ intoxicated state.

Right, Stiles, who is drunk, and burrowing into a pile of leaves.

Derek sighs at his life and stomps over to pick Stiles up again.

“Whoa, spinny!” Stiles shrieks and clutches at Derek’s collar. When he’s got his feet back under himself he looks around and frowns. “Nooo, no standing, it’s nap time.”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” Derek grumbles.

“Which is why it’s nap time,” Stiles insists, like it wasn’t his idea to get smashed in the woods in the middle of the night like an utter moron.

“You can sleep back at the loft, okay?” Derek bargains, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and hauling him forward.

“Mmm your bed,” Stiles groans, stuffing his face into Derek’s neck. “Been trying to get into your bed for months.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.

                                                              *****

The first time Stiles walks into Derek’s loft and finds him cooking he’s so stunned that he forgets to actually stop walking and crashes into a table.

Derek raises an eyebrow without looking away from where he’s blanching (blanching) vegetables. Once Stiles has stopped rolling around on the floor he uses two bar stools to pull himself right-side-up and brushes himself off as nonchalantly as he can manage.

“You cook?” he asks, trying his hardest not to appear incredulous, but Derek is wearing oven mitts so it’s not really going too well.

Derek levels him with his patented ‘why am I dating an idiot?’ look. It’s very, very flat.

“Yes, Stiles, I can cook,” he says, and pokes at something sizzling in a pan. Stiles boggles. Derek raises his other eyebrow this time. “Why is this shocking? You know I eat.”

“Well, yeah, objectively,” Stiles agrees. “I just always assumed you lived off a diet of Hot Pockets, squirrels, and the tears of your enemies.”

So very flat.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint. I’ll throw this in the bin and then head out to rustle up some woodland creatures.” He goes to turn off the burner and Stiles dives across the kitchen.

"No, no, no. This is good. This is — What is this?” Stiles takes a whiff and just about hits the floor again. “Oh god, feed me.”

(Stiles can cook too, but his speciality is sweet things. Derek couldn’t bake a cake to save his life. They’re a match made in culinary heaven.)

                                                            *****

"No,” Derek says sternly, giving Stiles everything his eyebrows have to offer. “Absolutely not.”

“What! Derek, come on, you know you want one,” Stiles wheedles, waggling his own eyebrows at Derek. He looks ridiculous and definitely not appealing.

“I have my hands full enough just trying to look after you.”

"Hey!” Stiles squawks. “I resent that! I am a fully functioning adult, thank you very much,” he says, puffing himself up.

All Derek has to do is glance pointedly at the thing curled up in Stiles’ arms and he puffs right back down again.

“I’ll keep her at my place! You won’t even know she’s there. I’ll take such good care of her, I swear.” Derek remains unmoved. Stiles pulls out the big guns. “Babe, please.” Damn him. “Just look at that face. You can’t say no to that face.”

The thing is, Derek is dangerously close to letting slip just how true that is. He’ll never be able to say no to Stiles. He might put up a token protest, but Derek knows that the second Stiles asks him for anything he’s already screwed.

And right now Stiles isn’t pulling his punches either. He’s got the big eyes and the pouty lips and his neck stretched out at the most perfect angle and Derek’s ready to fall to his knees and offer Stiles everything.

Except, what, no, not this time, Stiles is starting to make him legitimately insane.

“Who are you?! Hagrid?!” he exclaims. “Put the dragon down, Stiles.”

Stiles pulls this heartbroken face, and Derek is almost swayed except dragon.

“But she’s just a baby!” Stiles wails. “She doesn’t know how to look after herself.”

“She just singed off Scott’s eyebrows,” Derek says flatly. “I think she’ll be fine.”

(On the walk back to the Jeep Derek offers to buy Stiles a cat in place of the dragon, because they’re basically the same thing anyway and Derek is a sucker.)

                                                            *****

“I told you not to do it,” Derek sing-songs, condescendingly, not even looking up from his book. The ass.

“No you didn’t,” Stiles moans from his place on the couch. He removes his arm from his face to glare weakly at said ass. “You said, ‘As if you’d ever get your nipple pierced’. Which was basically a direct challenge. Which means of course I did it.”

Derek doesn’t even stop reading to roll his eyes at Stiles. He just kind of widens them slightly with a long-suffering look on his face. The ass.

"This is entirely your fault,” Stiles whines. Derek doesn’t respond at all.

Stiles wriggles around making pitiful noises until Derek snaps his book shut with a growl. “What.”

“It hurts,” Stiles sniffles.

“Well that’s because you poked a piece of metal through your flesh,” Derek bitches, but he gets up and walks over to the couch anyway. He lifts Stiles’ legs and settles himself down, Stiles’ thighs splayed across his lap. Then he curls his hand around Stiles’ knee and begins leeching his pain.

“Better?” he asks, and Stiles hums in the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s just about to drop off the edge of consciousness when something hot and wet envelops his nipple. Stiles jerks violently and finds Derek staring up at him from his chest, eyes dancing. He grins wickedly and flicks his tongue against the bar and Stiles melts.

(Derek ends up loving Stiles’ nipple piercing. Stiles lords it over him for months until Derek comes home with a piercing in a much more sensitive place. Stiles’ mouth is busy doing other things after that.)

                                                            *****

Derek went into this relationship with Stiles with his eyes wide open. Which basically meant he was expecting a lot of sex, because every second word out of the kid’s mouth was innuendo and he smelled constantly turned-on. And Stiles did not disappoint. There was a lot of sex. A lot.

Derek was not expecting the cuddling. But five months in Derek’s beginning to wonder if Stiles is actually a were-octopus and just hasn’t told him yet.

No matter how aggressively he spoons Stiles when they’re drifting off to sleep, he’ll always wake up buried under warm, clingy boy.

When Derek joined the Stilinski’s in visiting the Sheriff’s mother over Thanksgiving, he passed out alone on the couch and woke to Stiles wrapped around him, his face shoved under a throw pillow.

Stiles holds him in the shower, tucks Derek under his arm at pack movie nights, plasters himself to Derek’s back in the kitchen when he’s soft and tired-eyed.

The first time Stiles grabbed Derek’s hip and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder while they were both brushing their teeth Derek spent two whole minutes staring at him in the mirror. The first time. Now it feels weird whenever he’s not lopsided during his entire morning routine.

For years after Kate, Derek was uncomfortable being touched. Other people’s hands made his blood pump harder and his breathing turn shallower and his muscles coil up. Now, the safest he ever feels is when Stiles’ arms are snug around his heart.

anonymous asked:

39 for the 150 promptsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Well here ya go nonnie! This is the cutest shit I have ever written and now I wanna continue the Piper universe! Damn you! 

Here is prompt #39: “I forgot I was a single parent.” 


One would think after being a father for five years Stiles Stilinski would finally be a morning person; however, that is obviously not going to happen. He is sprawled in his bed, head half buried by pillows, one sock clad foot sticking out of the blanket. There is sunlight coming from his windows but he is doing the best he can to ignore it.

He is almost asleep again when he hears his door creak open.

It’s taken him eight months of those five years to get used to this kind of wakeup call.

There is a muffled high pitched giggle and it’s immediately shushed by a much deeper voice.

Daddy wake up!

Stiles gets no warning when forty pounds is being dropped on him, and he nearly gets the wind knocked out of him as little limbs crawl all over him before they settle at his side. He lifts and turns his head only to be greeted by a mass of dark curly hair.

“I don’t know kiddo, sleeping sounds pretty good right now,” Stiles yawns, resting his head on his arm while still looking in his daughter’s direction.

Piper sputters, legs flailing, “but Derek said we can only have pancakes if you get up.”

“Oh did he now?” Stiles asks, looking up to see Derek smirking with a slight flush across his cheeks.

“I may have suggested that,” Derek says, holding out a mug which Stiles knows is his coffee with lots of cream and lots of sugar.

“Please Daddy! I really want pancakes,” Piper begs as she moves to sit on her knees.

Stiles can’t help but smile at how adorable she looks in her sleep rumpled Moana pajamas. He makes adorable babies, the five year old in front of him is proof. He relents and sits up, taking his coffee with one hand while the other opens a space for Piper to curl up in. The child happily snuggles up to him, hiding her face in his shirt.

The coffee ends up being perfect, and Derek rolls his eyes when Stiles praises him about it insisting it is no big deal before going to the kitchen. It leaves a few minutes for Stiles to have alone with Piper, both of them more invested in a good morning snuggle than actual conversation. Eventually he manages to get out of bed, following his energetic daughter out of the room.

The thick scent of bacon wafts from the oven and the tart smell of cut up fruit also permeates the air. With the apartment not being super huge it doesn’t take much for it to start getting smoky inside. Stiles moves to the nearby window to open it like he usually does when cooking, but notices it’s already opened.

Derek is apparently one step ahead of him.

“You wanna help Derek mix the batter?” Stiles asks.

“Yes!” Piper says, balancing on her tiptoes to see, her body pressed up against Derek’s leg.

Stiles laughs and sets his coffee down before lifting Piper up so she’s sitting on the counter.

“Can you get the frozen blueberries?” Derek asks.

“Yeah.”

Stiles ducks down and grabs the frozen berries from the freezer, handing them over before setting to work on eggs. He likes them scrambled with heaps of cheese in it, Piper and Derek both prefer fried eggs; however, Derek hates runny yolks.

It amazes him how after years of only keeping in touch via occasional text he and Derek can just come back to this level of familiarity so easily. Of course boundaries aren’t really a thing when one has children, especially one who inherited the lack of a brain-to-mouth-filter and reiterates the smallest of details at the most inappropriate time.

“Can I have more berries in my pancakes?” Piper asks, fingers stained purplish blue from the berries.

Derek snorts, “I don’t know Pipes—”

“I promise I’ll brush my teeth extra good after!”

“Pinky promise?”

Piper nods and loops her stained pinky with Derek’s, vowing to keep that promise.

“Jeez, melt my heart much you two?” Stiles asks, his cheeks feeling hot all of a sudden.

The timer goes off after a moment, and Stiles pauses his work on the eggs to grab the bacon out of the oven so it can cool. He grabs paper towels, setting the strips of pork on top to get the excess grease off.

“Oh, hey Derek,” Stiles says, his brain finally back online, “on the 26th I have a double shift I can’t get out of because Kimberly is on maternity leave…anyways, do you think you could do the parent teacher night thing for Piper? I think she only has two teachers because you know, it’s just kindergarten, but still I don’t want her to miss it.”

The kitchen is silent, void of food sizzling.

Stiles cranes his head to the left to see Derek looking at him, thick eyebrows drawn up in confusion.

“I’m—that is parent teacher night. Parent,” Derek says, “I’m not her dad.”

Oh.

Embarrassment floods Stiles. The wakeup calls. The coffee. The window. The egg preferences. All the other countless little things that have added up throughout most of the year.

“I forgot I was a single parent….” Stiles mutters more to himself than Derek.

The werewolf picks up on it of course.

“You know what we should do? We should invite some of your dolls and plushies to breakfast. Do you want to go pick a few from your room?” Derek asks in a soft tone to the child resting on the counter.

The girl lights up with the idea almost sliding off the counter in excitement, but thankfully Derek catches her and puts her on her feet. Piper bolts down the hall and into her room ranting about who deserves to have breakfast. Stiles knows she’ll have a hard time picking between Mr. Bear and Ducky.

With Piper out of the room it leaves the adults to deal with the tension. The remaining stove burners are turned off, and Stiles doesn’t have the nerve to turn and face Derek. What kind of parent is he? He’s grown so dependent on Derek that thinking about the man moving out scares him.

It scares him a lot.

“I can hear you thinking,” Derek starts.

Stiles stops biting on his lip, “you have supersonic hearing.”

“Supersonic is a bit of an over exaggeration.”

“Shut up. You know what I mean,” Stiles says, biting the bullet as he spins around.

Derek is standing in the middle of the kitchen looking stupidly….attractive in his basketball shorts and an old hoodie with some cheesy New York tourist bullshit on it. His hair is still tousled from sleep and his facial hair is more beard than scruff. Stiles is so taken that he’s allowed to see Derek Hale like this.

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad,” Derek starts again, “I just am not Piper’s dad. I don’t want to impede because you’re her actual dad and this is parent teacher night.”

Stiles wants to hit himself over the head with a frying pan. Repeatedly.

“Then what the hell do you call all of this?” Stiles demands, keeping his voice low but serious.

“All of what?”

You! Taking care of Piper when I have work or when I’m too tired to get up early enough although we both know my dad is perfectly capable of doing that. Making diners that you say you haven’t made since before the fire, saying it’s nice to share them with a family again. Bringing Piper and lunch into the station for me and sitting with me at my desk to share it like—”

Stiles’ voice breaks off and his eyes fall to the floor.

“Like what Stiles?” Derek asks, suddenly in his space, his fingers tilting Stiles’ chin back up.

“—like my mom and I used to do for my dad,” he finishes, brining his gaze back up to Derek’s.

Lips are on his and it is glorious. Scratchy facial hair makes the skin around his mouth tingle, large warm hands that hold his hips grounds him in this moment, and when it finally hits him that Derek Hale is kissing him, Stiles doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate. His fingers wind themselves into Derek’s ink colored hair and he presses his body closer into the contact that is so so good.

Teeth and tongue are just being introduced to the party when reality hits them, and reality is named Piper. A gasp sounds to their left followed by the sound of toys crashing to the ground. He and Derek rip themselves apart, and nothing is able to mask how disheveled they are.

“I knew it!” Piper finally says, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Um, what?” Stiles asks in a high voice.

“You and Derek,” Piper says with a ‘duh’ kind of tone, “it’s like Uncle Scott and Auntie Kira! You guys are all mushy and stuff.”

Derek breaks out into this hysterical laughter and Stiles feels so incredibly dumbfounded. His five year old kid knew about them before they even knew about them. There is a them now. Stiles smiles as that thought crosses his mind; obviously, there is still a lot of logistics to talk about but everything is changing for the better.

Stiles moves and picks up Piper, settling her on his hip, giving her cheek a wet smacking kiss  The girl squeals and shies away from the obnoxious contact.

“Does this mean Derek can do the teacher thingy?” She asks.

“This absolutely means I can do it,” Derek nods, bunny teeth sticking out of his brilliant smile.

“But first, pancakes,” Stiles amends.


ASK ME A PROMPT FOR THE DRABBLE CHALLENGE!

accidentally?

Based on this prompt I said I’d fill a few days ago:

boss: “know why I called you in here?”
me: “because I accidentally sent you a dick pic”
boss: “accidentally?”

yup.

(on ao3)

“You need to stop pining after people you haven’t even spoken to,” Lydia says one day, probably because Derek—er, Mr. Hale, their boss—has just stepped through the front door of the cafe where they’re having lunch, and Stiles has trailed off mid-word to watch him walk up to the counter. In Stiles’ defense, he’s never seen Mr. Hale outside of the office before, let alone Mr. Hale wearing a leather jacket over his dress shirt. God, and Stiles thought the tailored suits were bad enough…

Anyway.

“Uh, I have too spoken to him,” Stiles says indignantly, tearing his eyes away from Derek’s broad back across the room. “One day I was coming out of the break room and I almost walked right into him and he said, ‘Excuse me,’ so then I said, ‘Oops,’ and he smiled at me. Kind of. A little bit. I mean, I interpreted it as a smile. There was some prolonged eye contact.”

Lydia abruptly stops stirring her fat-free latte to stare at him—one of those Oh god, it’s worse than I thought kind of looks. “That’s it?”

Keep reading

Sterek Reversebang 2017

More Than Forever by @stilesplusderekequalsterek

Stiles needs new kidney’s. Well that isn’t new news by a long shot. He knew the chances of him getting one after this long was slim to none. He had basically given up on life figuring it would be easier for him to just except his fate. Then Derek comes into the picture, even if Stiles still doesn’t have and hope of living at least now he has something to live for.

-My first entry into the Sterek Reversebang. And a huge thank you to SnazzyJazzyH who wrote this beautiful fic to my art work. I couldn’t be more happy. Everybody read it!!!

Long Angsty Sterek Fics

All at least 20k words long (by request)

Divided We Stand by KouriArashi

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn’t expect and aren’t sure they approve of….

By Any Other Name by entanglednow

He doesn’t know his name, he doesn’t know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he’s on the run with. But he’s pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

Permanent Fixture by linksofmemories

Derek is Scott’s older brother. Stiles is Scott’s best friend. Derek is falling in love with Stiles. This is a bit of a problem.

Mating Habits of the Domesticated North American Werewolf by lielabell

Derek doesn’t do pining. He doesn’t. So when it becomes clear that Stiles is much more interested in having Derek as a new best friend than a boyfriend, he puts on his big boy pants and makes it fucking work. He becomes the best goddamn friend a spastic teenager could ever hope to have.

Don’t Speak by fatale

The Alpha pack has systematically attacked Stiles and his friends for months, testing their strengths and weaknesses. When one of the Alphas goes after Stiles, he awakens in the hospital and realizes that something’s wrong. Very wrong. All sounds seem to hurt him, he can’t understand what anyone is saying, and when he tries to speak, it’s gibberish. How is he supposed to deal with the fact that he’s lost the ability to communicate with his dad and his friends?

Without his ability to talk, his sarcasm, and his wit, what does Stiles even have left? Enter Derek, the only one who seems to make it better.

Enemy Lines by qhuinn (tekla)

This is the story of werewolf Derek Hale and human Stiles Stilinski: two people who grew up in the same town but completely different worlds, their realities split by the war between men and wolves.

Years later when Derek returns to Beacon Hills, he does it as Alpha of a military pack on a mission to capture those responsible for the region’s resistance. With his main objective, Sheriff Stilinski, out of sight, he settles for the next best thing: his son, Stiles.

Neither of them suspects they’ll need to trust each other if they want to make it out this alive.

Keep reading

“We both tried to grab at the last copy of that desired book at the same time and had a tug of war.” (from this post)

Sterek ficlet, T, ~1.6k words. Basically, I was going to just do a tiny little drabble as a warm-up for working on one of my WIPs, and then I was having too much fun with it to stop.

(Btw, if you couldn’t tell, I totally made up the book series in question. Any resemblance to any actual book is completely coincidental.) 

It’s definitely some kind of torture that on the day the seventh and final Path of Wolves novel comes out, Stiles still has to go to school like it’s not the most important day of the year or anything.

And okay, so it’s not like anyone else in Beacon Hills has even heard of these books except Scott, and then only because Stiles can’t shut up about them, but still. Stiles spends the entire day practically vibrating out of his skin with the anticipation. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t taken in a word any of his teachers has said today. The only reason he doesn’t try to make a break for it during lunch is that he can’t afford another detention on his record, and even so, he’s still sorely, sorely tempted to risk it. In the end, he has to get Lydia to hide his car keys from him.

(He was going to ask Scott to do it, but Scott would have caved as soon as Stiles started begging, and Stiles is definitely not above begging, so Lydia it is.)

The instant the final bell rings, though, Stiles is out of there, flying across the parking lot and gunning the Jeep. The bookstore probably only ordered a few copies, and if Stiles isn’t holding one of them by the time he leaves, somebody’s about to get murdered.

Not that he actually expects any competition, but it’s better not to let these things go to chance. He already messed up once by procrastinating on pre-ordering until they were sold out; he didn’t think it was possible for a Path of Wolves novel to be sold out. He was wrong, and now he’s paying for it by having to physically go to the bookstore to get it.

Either Stiles vastly overestimated how many copies the store was going to order, or else he vastly underestimated how many people in Beacon Hills read these books, because when he skids to a stop in front of the New Releases shelf, there’s only one copy left. One beautiful, perfect hardcover copy.

Lucky for him, one copy is enough.

Except that when he grabs ahold of it, someone else does, too.

For a long second, Stiles can’t even believe what he’s seeing. Another hand, on his book. Another hand that’s not letting go, even though Stiles has already clearly and unambiguously grabbed it by the spine and isn’t letting go, either.

Stiles turns his head incredulously to get a look at this usurper, and it’s Derek Hale. As in, made-of-muscles, leather-wearing lacrosse captain Derek Hale.

Until this moment, Stiles wasn’t even sure Derek could read, and now he’s trying to steal Stiles’ obscure eight-hundred-page fantasy novel. What.

Keep reading

Kat’s Fic Recs: Sterek (under 10k)

*Yes, yes the first three are over 10k but they’re worth it!

For @prettyinsoulpunk, hope this makes your week better! 💖💖💖

On The Bus by bibliosexxual (13,299)

“Yeah,” Erica says with exaggerated slowness, “I did like Kira, and now I like Boyd. I’m bi.”

“Bi?”

“Bisexual?” Erica prompts. “As in, not gay or straight?”

Stiles is pretty sure his entire mind explodes. “You can like guys and girls? That’s a thing?”

Erica looks at him like, What planet are you from? “Uh, yeah. As long as they’re hot, I don’t care what gender they are.” She pokes him in the side, and he jumps. He’s always been ticklish, and unfortunately Erica knows it. “What about you? You ever like guys, Stilinski?”

*
In which Stiles and Derek ride the bus to school together, and there are bisexual awakenings.

You’ll Grow Into Your Skin by crossroadswrite (11,847)

“So funny story,” Stiles winces, “Remember when I joked you couldn’t get me pregnant?”

Derek nods his head. He remembers pretty much everything from that day.

“Right,” Stiles bobs his head, stops himself and does a little ta-da gesture towards Jacy, “Surprise?”

This is honestly so so cute and heartwarming. I don’t read much mpreg but this was so good and I recommend it 100%.

Word By Word by Cobrilee (11,843)

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

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

Are you 18?

‘Til It Hurts or Bleeds or Fades by WeAreTheCyclones (10,731)

“For the peace and happiness of our friends, and that of Beacon Hills at large, can you please give us a warning if you two are ever headed for a nuclear fallout?”

Stiles scoffs. “What are you talking about?”

“The tension between you two rises with each passing year. For awhile there, it seemed to be turning into the sexy kind, but now it feels more like the murder kind.”

No Day But Today by fauvistfly (9,527)

“If you don’t change it successfully, you’ll be doomed to repeat it,” Deaton says, his face impassive despite the seriousness of his words.

“Repeat the day?” Stiles parrots, trying to wrap his head around what they’re attempting to do, the ridiculousness of his life and how it now involves time travel.

in which things in Beacon Hills are so bad that Deaton sends Stiles back in time to stop Kate from manipulating Derek and causing the death of the Hale family. The catch: Stiles only has 24 hours to change the course of the future, or he’ll be stuck repeating that same day until he gets it right. What will be enough to keep Derek away from Kate?

Where Others Fade Away by pr1nc3ssp34ch (9,054)

When the name Grzegorz tattoos itself across Derek’s wrist in neat, thin strokes, his mother pats him on the head in sympathy and Laura laughs so hard she has to go to her room, the sound echoing down the hall as she goes. When it stays there for six years and no such Grzegorz appears, Derek seriously considers moving to Poland.

Meanwhile, on Stiles’ eighteenth birthday when Derek crawls onto his skin, untidy and volatile, Lydia shrieks in sudden realization, and Jackson looks so entirely offended that even Danny can’t kiss him back to normal.

just the touch of a hand by scepticallyopenminded (8,591)

Things – as things often do in Stiles’ life – get a little crazy (a lot crazy) when, a couple of weeks before his seventeenth birthday, he wakes up to – not a wolf, but an amount of naked flesh, cuddled up to him where Dude fell asleep the night before. Stiles screams, a bit, flopping around and falling out of his bed, getting to his knees to see a naked – Derek Hale, sitting up on his bed, eyes wide. He seems to realize something a second later, because he glances down at himself and squeaks, pulling sheets up around him just as Stiles’ dad opens the door.

36 Questions by Leslie_Knope (8,071)

“So I’m doing my senior psych thesis on friendships,” Erica says, not-so-accidentally elbowing Derek in the ribs as she turns to face Stiles. “How they develop, how intimacy is fostered, stuff like that.”

“That’s cool,” Stiles says agreeably. “What’s our part?”

“Well, I can’t really tell you the point because that would influence the results. But it’s a set of 36 questions that you have to ask each other.”

“Just the two of us?” Derek chimes in, finally, and Stiles sighs.

“Okay, dude,” he says, making a face, “could you try not to look quite so offended? Like, my ego’s pretty strong, but come on, man.”

Of Glasses And Lacrosse Sticks by charlesdk (6,810)

“Okay, how 'bout this? One date, just one date, and if you still don’t believe I’m genuinely interested in you, then I’ll leave you alone for good. How does that sound?”

Derek hesitated for another moment, before he sighed and said, “Fine. One date.”

It’s Always Been You by charlesdk (6,085)

Stiles’ love life was practically non-existing, always had been. He was always terrible at picking up clues when people hit on him (it had happened, Erica had been witness to it and had been the one to let him know it was happening in the first place) because he never expected anyone to do so.

He wasn’t the most desirable guy around, he knew that. He was loud, extremely nerdy, never knew when to stop talking, not exactly much of a looker if you asked him, the list was endless.

Point was, he never did know when someone was flirting with him. Which was probably how he ended up in the fight that would change his life for the better.

One Year Down by haleofStilesheart (5,854)

Derek had never celebrated an anniversary before. At least, not an anniversary for a romantic relationship. But now that’s he’s been dating Stiles for a year, that’s about to change.

It’s Too Early For This by thepsychicclam (4,966)

Derek loves his job at the coffee shop, especially because Stiles comes in for coffee before early Saturday morning lacrosse practices. The problem is that Derek is too shy to do anything about his crush, and the situation is not helped by the rivalry between the basketball and lacrosse teams.

I Didn’t Know That I Was Starving (til I tasted you) by LadySlytherin (4,481)

Derek - who lives in New York with his older sister, Laura - is back in Beacon Hills, visiting his parents and younger sister for Christmas, when everything changes. Cora invites friends over while their parents are visiting other family, Derek drinks something he didn’t know he shouldn’t have, and things get a little out of control.

Misunderstandings abound, secrets are spilled, and in the end all it takes to find happiness is being brave enough to reach out with both hands and never let go.

Hello My Old Heart by eversall (3,944)

It begins like this – Stiles is hopelessly lost in the Beacon Hills Library, which has definitely undergone renovations in the last two years, and he’s wandering around trying his best to look like a helpless puppy or something and sure enough, a librarian in a navy blue cashmere sweater and thick-rimmed black glasses shows up, and that librarian happens to be Derek Hale.
Stiles’ heart skips a beat and he suddenly feels like he’s drowning in something unfamiliar, an ache beginning to build in his chest.
.
The pack drifts back together, and Derek in sweaters kind of breaks Stiles a little. In a good way.

A Treatise On The Importance Of Not Ignoring Your Date by LadySlytherin (3,490)

A tumblr-post-based fic, wherein Stiles and Derek have a meet-cute at a baseball game. Involves a kiss-cam, Stiles’ date being an ass, and a hot stranger.

Basically, Peter doesn’t survive the fire so Laura and Derek never go back to Beacon Hills, Scott’s never bitten, Stiles doesn’t know about the supernatural, and he goes to NY for college. Go, Mets!

Thank God Your Heart Is Too Close by hoars (3,469)

There’s a boy, (“Fuck you, dude. I’m seventeen. Not fifteen.” Stiles laughs in his memory) waiting for him back home.

Soulmates tbh by bleep0bleep (1,423)

“It’s been five months,” Derek says darkly. “Why am I still getting these proposals? You know these are probably all fake marks.”

Five months since the paparazzi had snapped that photo of him with the overzealous fan tugging at his shirt, five months since millions of people on the Internet realized that the birthmark revealed was in fact, the mark, five months Derek was inundated by claims from people who desperately wanted him to believe that they were his soul-mate.

A while back @benaya-trash drew this wonderful art for my long!fic: To Build a Home (Of Sorts). I absolutely love it so thank you so much!!!


“You’re back,” he said in more of a question.

“Yeah, I am,” Stiles answered.

“For how long?”

That is when the silence kicked in for real, and Stiles went rigid and nervous, “uh…well, Derek, that depends on you.”

“On me?”

“I’m not doing the map anymore, I sorta ripped it up. Self-righteous I know,” Stiles babbled, “and, I kind of ran out on you and I just couldn’t stop thinking about how I never let you explain the whole Skype thing. Then again, I can totally understand if I overstepped, I was only half kidding about Christmas. Anyways…um I just, you have this big house all to yourself and I don’t really feel like going back to Beacon Hills for a while and I just thought….I just figured if–ya know if it was cool with you maybe I could stay?”

Derek opened his mouth, a response half baked in his throat, but Stiles kept on going.  

“Of course I’d help and stuff, this time I promise not to nail my shirt to anything. I mean I assume you’re going to be putting furniture in soon. If it’s from Ikea I can totally help with that, I am the master of those things, Scott assembled his desk the wrong way after two hours but I fixed it in about thirty minutes. Like I said, master of Ikea stuff. Also despite what you may have seen at my dad’s house I promise not to leave a huge mess. Okay…maybe my habit of leaving towels on the floor will take a while to kick, but I’ll try and remember not to do that and–”

“Stiles,” Derek interjected, setting the glass down with a loud thunk, “I leave towels on the floor too.”

That was the last thing Stiles expected him to say. His jaw fell to the ground in shock, eyes nearly bulging out of his head. Stiles let out a small laugh and Derek let himself get lost in it. The laugh went on for a few more seconds before dissipating, the joy replaced with a newfound seriousness.

“Wait–was that a yes?”

Derek looked up from his hands, the easy answer heavy on his tongue.

“Yes.”

Stiles let out a long sounding sigh, his shoulders falling and face relaxing from its pinched state. The house would no longer be silent for days on end, Cora would no longer be the only person he talked to, the house would no longer just be a house.

Suddenly, with Stiles here, it had the potential to be a home.


Find this fic on AO3: HERE

Imagine Derek is the young prince and Stiles is his manservant and the only person who would dare talk back to him. Derek would never admit it, but Stiles means everything to him; he’s the one person who he trusts, the one person he can confide in, the one person he loves.

However, one day, Derek makes the mistake of crossing a warlock. Enraged, the warlock curses the young prince. Stiles pleads the warlock to lift the curse, but the man says that if Derek wants the curse lifted, he must prove himself.

Derek succeeds in the first two trials, however, when he arrives at the third trial, he finds Stiles, sitting at a small table with two silver goblets placed on the table before him.

“Refuse the test and you will fail, your kingdom will be destroyed,” the man warns.

Derek hesitantly steps forward and sits down at the table, looking at Stiles. “I thought I told you to stay at home.”

Stiles bows his head, but doesn’t reply.

The warlock explains, “Before you sit two goblets: one containing a deadly poison, the other containing a harmless drink. The liquid from both goblets must be drunk. Each of you may only drink from one goblet.”

“What kind of ridiculous test is this? What does it prove?” Derek asks defensively, his voice filling with anger and irritation.

“What it proves is for you to decide,” the man replies. “If you pass the test, the curse will be lifted.”

There’s a moment of quiet before Stiles speaks. “Let’s think about this… What if I drink form my goblet first?”

“If it’s poisoned, you’ll die,” Derek points out.

“And if it’s not, then you’ll have to drink from yours and you’ll die,” Stiles adds. He shakes his head. “There’s got to be a way around it.”

“It’s perfectly simple,” Derek says, his voice shockingly calm. “One of us has to die.”

Stiles knows it to be true, but hearing the words hurts.

“We have to find a way to determine which drink is poisoned and then I’ll drink it,” Derek says.

“What?” Stiles mutters. “No, I’ll drink it.”

“This is my doing,” Derek argues.

“It’s more important that you live,” Stiles objects. “You’re the future king, I’m just a servant boy.”

“Stop trying to be the hero, Stiles, it really doesn’t suit you,” Derek teased.

“Okay, what if I drink from my goblet first, and if it’s not poisoned I’ll drink the other one?” Stiles proposed.

“You can’t,” Derek replied. “He said we can each only drink from one goblet.”

Stiles let out a heavy sigh, his eyes intently focused on the shining silver goblets sitting before him.

“I had no idea you were so keen to die for me, Stiles,” Derek said softly.

“Trust me, I can hardly believe it myself,” Stiles muttered.

Derek chuckled softly. After a moment, he let out a heavy sigh, letting his stern expression drop as he admitted, ‘I’m glad you’re here, Stiles.”

The boy glanced up at him, his eyes catching the light and shimmering like golden liquor.

“I’ve got it,” Stiles says triumphantly. “We poor all the liquid into one cup, that way we can be sure it’s poisoned and all the liquid will be drunk from one glass.”

A smile lifts the corner of Derek’s mouth. “You never cease to surprise me, Stiles. You’re a lot smarter than you look.”

“Is that actually a compliment?” Stiles asks.

Derek glances over Stiles’ shoulders, pointing at something behind the boy. “Look out.”

Stiles spins around and Derek snatches the goblets off the table.

“No,” Stiles shouts, reaching for them, but he’s too late.

Derek pours the liquid into one glass and raises it.

“I’ll drink it,” Stiles begs.

“No, I won’t let you,” Derek objects.

“You can’t die,” Stiles argues. “This isn’t how it’s meant to go. Please, just listen to me.”

“You should know by now, Stiles,” Derek said, a teasing smirk spread across his lips. “I never listen to you.”

Before Stiles can say anything else, Derek lifts the silver goblet to his lips and gulps down the liquid. He swallows hard, the goblet slipping from his hand as he looks across the table at Stiles.

Tears well in the boy’s eyes as he mutters, “What have you done?”

“I couldn’t let you–” Derek’s words fade away as his eyes fall shut and he collapses to the ground.

“Derek!” Stiles cries, leaping from his seat and running to the young man’s side. Tears stream down his cheeks as he looks at the warlock. “It wasn’t meant to end like this!”

“It hasn’t,” the warlock says calmly. “There was no poison, merely a sedative.”

Stiles looks at him, stunned. “What?”

“The test was to prove whose life he valued more; his or that of a servant boy,” the warlock explained.

“And?” Stiles asked, his voice strained and hopeful.

The warlock nodded slowly. “He passed. The curse has been lifted and the two of you are free to return home.”

 

Inspired by this scene from BBC’s Merlin