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Happy birthday Mandi (dude-its-bcn-hlls)! Here’s a fake relationship fic loosely inspired by this post. Hope you like it! :)

“Hey, you’re late. It’s almost ten.”

“Slept in,” Derek replies, smiling slightly at Stiles-the-super-cute-barista. 

“And here I thought you were one of those ‘Sleep makes me weak. I exist off of caffeine’ sort of guys,” Stiles says, already ringing up Derek’s order, even though he hasn’t specified it. Truthfully, though, the day Derek orders anything other than his usual large, black coffee will be the day Laura stops being bossy. So basically never.

“I thought that was more your philosophy,” Derek snorts, handing over a five. 

“True,” Stiles laughs, but the smile slips off his face as he focuses his gaze somewhere over Derek’s shoulder. “Hey, do you know those girls?”

Derek glances behind him and has to contain a groan as he sees who Stiles is referring to. Two teenage girls have their smartphones pointed towards him, presumably taking pictures or videos, while whispering to each other and giggling intermittently. Really, he should be used to this by now, but it never gets any less annoying.

“Do you want me to get them to leave?” Stiles asks, breaking Derek from his thoughts.

“No, it’s fine,” Derek sighs, his Stiles-induced good mood dampened. “I’m used to it.”

“They’re heading this way,” Stiles replies, and Derek has to once again resist the urge to let out a noise of frustration. He looks back at the two rapidly approaching girls before turning back to Stiles, indecisive.

“Just go with me for a moment,” he murmurs, Stiles blinking at him in confusion.

“Oka - ” Stiles starts, only to be cut off by Derek leaning forward and brushing their lips together in the barest impression of a kiss.

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queerlyalex asked:

Prompt, maybe, Sterek as hot teachers and they find out the students ship them together? ;D

hell yeah. hell yeah hell yeah HELL YEAH (this is weak af but i tried ok)

Mr. Hale and Mr. Stilinski are perfect for each other.

And this isn’t just Zahra being weird, okay? It’s not. Everyone thinks so. Whenever Mr. Stilinski sticks his head around the door of Mr. Hale’s class, everyone goes quiet and grins at each other subtly. Or about as subtle as high school juniors get.

“C’mon, Derek, you’ve got to like Taylor Swift.”

“I’m not a fan of pop music, Stiles.”

“You mean you’re not a fan of fun, you miserable gremlin.”

Zahra coughs politely from her place in the back. “Uh, are we gonna get back to the Baroque period, or not?”

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anonymous asked:

Prompt: At the church in Mexico Stiles gets blinded by a Beserker. Derek uses his new wolfy status to support Stiles by acting as a guide-dog, and things just evolve from there. No clue why but I love to make Stiles suffer.

April

He moves down the street at a sedate pace, brow furrowed, as he follows the easy pull of the line. The slight tug meaning to shift a pace to the left, the bob of movement warning of a sidewalk edge a pace ahead.

People overly familiar with guide dogs might be suspicious of their system, one they worked out through common sense and terse explanations rather than following any guidebook. But the differences are subtle, and this works for them.

As well as anything works for Stiles these days.

A familiar whuff of sound has Stiles putting his hand out, feeling for the rail to help him up the few steps to his door. He’s made it up, the hard part over, when he reaches into his pocket and fumbles the keys. They hit the step and skitter off behind them before going silent.

The dread that hits him, starting low in his belly and seeping out through him is totally irrational. They couldn’t have gone far – a step or two, or maybe into the grass at the edge of the walkway. He can handle this. He’s handled a hell of a lot worse than this.

“Fuck this,” he grits, dropping his backpack and his hold on the line. He feels carefully over the top step with his foot, inching forward to step down to the next one. He does this every day. He can handle this.

It’s on the second step, toeing his way across to feel for the keys, that he overestimates the length. And then he’s landing, knees and elbows, on hard concrete.

The sting in his skin isn’t bad – he’s been through worse, so much worse – but realizes he’s shaking, breaths going thin and shuddery. A two foot fall almost enough to shatter him.

He’s that fragile.

That vulnerable.

…Who is he kidding? He’d broken months ago.

.-

February

Stiles will never forget the moment he first opens his eyes in the aftermath and sees only darkness.

The ground’s moving under him, swaying sickly… or maybe that’s in his head. He lets out a low groan, squinting upward, waiting vainly for his eyes to adjust. (His curtains aren’t dark enough to black out his bedroom like this, what the hell?)

…Except now that he thinks about it, he feels a lot more like he’s lying on a metal bench than a bed. And the last thing he remembers hadn’t been his bedroom. He’d been—

There’s a scramble of motion to the right of him, and he flinches from it until he hears Scott’s voice.

Stiles. Stiles, you back with us, man?”

He turns his head, and a rush of nausea brings bile surging up his throat. Scott’s clutching one of his hands in both of his own, shushing Stiles while he swallows it back down, coughing at the burn. Every jolt of motion sends a fresh, sick throb shuddering through him.

“It’s ok, man. It’s ok.” There’s a hysterical lilt in Scott’s tone that seems to suggest the exact opposite.

A second shuffle of movement above him catches Stiles’ attention, a warm hand touching down on his nape. The contact is strangely soothing, and some of the throbbing in his skull starts to settle.

He’s not so paralyzed by pain now, and his hand clenches on Scott’s, cutting off his friend’s panicked rambling long enough to grit out: “What the hell’s going on, man? Why’s it so dark?”

There’s no immediate answer, and the world continues to rattle and sway under him.

“Scott, we got out, right? We’re not in some freaky temple prison waiting to be re-Berserker-ized?”

Scott lets out a sharp, shuddering breath, and the hand on his nape shifts to start soothing the space right behind his left ear. It feels amazing and, seriously, had his head ever been hurting? He doesn’t think he can even remember what pain is right now.

He lets his eyes drift closed, settling into the endorphin high, the magical contact that’s transforming the sickening sway of motion into something almost soothing.

He’s almost forgotten his own question by the time a new voice breaks in, a familiar low rumble.

“We’re not locked up anywhere, Stiles. Everyone’s here, we’re heading back to Beacon Hills right now.”

His eyes shoot back open (pointlessly, in this black space), his free hand darting to grasp at a muscled bicep.

Derek?”

They’d left Derek back there on the ground, gaping holes in his chest, smiling bravely as he bled out.

“I’m here.”

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anonymous asked:

Hello, Aga from Poland. :D I really love your fics. If you have time I have a prompt: It’s Derek birthday after he leaves town and Stiles drunk dialing. Bonus if Sheriff walks in and take his phone and wishes Derek happy birthday.

Oh, thank you!! <3

Since the fandom’s pretty much agreed that Derek’s birthday is on Christmas, I decided to use that here. Hope you enjoy!!

He’s had entirely too much eggnog to be left alone with his phone. His dad should know that. His friends should definitely know that.

But Scott’s busy, caught up in some kind of mating dance with Allison that involves hanging out awkwardly in doorways under the mistletoe and sending her sad eyes, and Lydia’s keeping Allison company at the other side of the room while she sends covert, longing glances back. His dad’s laughing with Melissa with that love-struck sort of look that’s been building up in his eyes for years long now, and probably hadn’t even noticed Stiles swiping the bottle, adding way too much rum after he’d ducked back into the kitchen with it. It’s a holiday, after all, and he’s allowed to have a drink to celebrate.

His dad just didn’t specify how much drink the drink was allowed to have.

So when Stiles ends up in his bedroom, staring at his phone, it’s everyone’s fault, really, and no one’s. Honestly it feels kind of inevitable. Him lying in his room, on the outskirts of the mating dances, scrolling idly through his contact list until he pauses on a familiar number. He has it memorized even though he probably shouldn’t, but this might not be the first time he’s opened up his contact list to stare at it these past few weeks. To look at the name typed out over the digits, to wonder at the way so few letters can leave his chest writhing with so many unresolved feelings.

He lifts his thumb, brushes across the short word fondly, and jumps as the phone registers an attempt to call and starts dialing.

Stiles seriously shouldn’t be surprised that it happened. He’s a clumsy, melancholy drunk, and it’s about time he accepts it.

The phone continues to ring while he stares, transfixed, at the tiny image of a phone blinking on his screen. Connecting… connecting…

It’s the phone’s fault, he decides. That stupid, sensitive touch screen, stirring up trouble by calling people it has no business in calling, just because Stiles had been maybe brushing his thumb across that name, thinking about hearing that stupid grumpy voice. And so maybe he’d been imagining the smooth screen was a rough, stubble-covered jaw, been half lost in imagining what it might feel like under his fingers… but that’s no reason for his phone to go ahead and call him.

And Derek’s surprised too, it seems like, because while Stiles is busy scowling at the stupid device, he answers, and there’s a startled lilt in his voice when he says Stiles’ name.

Stiles should probably just say he’d dialed the wrong number, or shoot out a quick, cheerful “Merry Christmas” and let that be that.

“You’re not here,” is what slips out instead, his hands clenching a little, his lips twisting into a pout that probably carries into his tone.

There’s a short silence from Derek’s end, and then an amused huff of air.

“Are you just noticing that?”

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gossymer asked:

Imma give you a cracktastic prompt: in a world where were are the norm, Stiles is a were!bunny. He is not impressed but he makes do. Derek on the other hand has a new past time in the woods :)

This… became long. I also know much more about rabbits now. Here’s what I imagine werebunny!Stiles looks like, though! So enjoy 4k of cracktastic fluff!

(9/10 prompts for my 1k followers thingy!)

Oh god.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Stiles hops over a tree root, his tiny rabbit lungs burning as he sprint-hops over the forest floor. He makes a mental note to lay off the curly fries.

Not that he’ll probably be able to do that.

Because he’s going to die.

His hind paw catches on a rock and he goes down, crashing onto his stomach, the wind abruptly forced from his lungs. He tries to scramble to his feet – paws, whatever – but he can already sense a large figure hovering over him, trapping him in. He makes a break for it anyway, though, desperately trying to escape, but a large muzzle with rows of sharp teeth is already descending on him and –

– and Derek Hale is going to eat him to death. And not even in a sexy way. Then Derek finally will become a murderer, and his dad will have to identify his body by scraping bits of his rabbit intestines off of Derek’s wolf-y canines.

All because he didn’t warn his werewolf friends off from their usual late night hunts, because then he’d have to admit that he’s a fucking wererabbit.

Oh god.

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the kiss – or in this case, the painful, agonizing bite – of death.

Only it never comes.

It never comes, because for some reason, instead of swallowing him whole like a normal wolf, Derek’s decided to rub his face all over him. Gah, Stiles doesn’t even know where that muzzle’s been. Derek’s probably getting rabbit-guts from his previous victim all over Stiles’ carefully maintained coat.

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because I’m bored at work and really wanna write something so ‘you made an obscure literary reference and i’m the only on that got it’ au based off of this list

Stiles doesn’t really grasp why Derek is here. Scott mentioned something about branching out and they used to be friends in middle school what happened and being nice and well, Scott lost him after he talked about being nice to Derek Hale. Derek Hale who is a fucking nerd and an asshole. Stiles has been competing with him for valedictorian before high school. There is no being nice to Derek Hale.

Yet here he is. In Stiles’ living room. Playing video games with Scott while Stiles glares at the two of them having fun. This is disrupting the natural order of things and it’s so not okay. And apparently Lydia and Jackson are on their way over? They’re having like a party? Ever since Scott’s asthma improved drastically over their summer break before senior year and he started working out and got off the bench in lacrosse, he’s been popular. And by extension, so is Stiles. Kind of. Everyone is basically tolerating him so they can be around actual sunshine Scott McCall. 

Stiles can’t really blame them. Scott is amazing.

But that’s not the point.

The point is, Derek Hale is in his house, shoes off and sprawled on the couch like he’s comfortable there and Jackson is on his way and these are the two guys Stiles hates most in the world. And they’re both going to be here, in la casa de Stilinski. 

God fucking damnit. High school sucks.

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ColorblindSoulmates!AU where one of them is genetically colorblind!

I blame Westley (the ever lovely lovelessayase) for this.

You know the “don’t see color until you meet your soulmate"AU? What about someone who is naturally colorblind? Does the world seem tinted differently? Does it stay the same? Angstangstangst.

Ugh, what if they can see color only when they’re truly connected? Like, ColorBlind!Derek doesn’t see color until he’s having sex with Stiles. First time, friends with benefits sex, right? Because Stiles knows Derek’s his soulmate but he thinks he can’t be Derek’s because Derek can’t see color. So he does whatever he can to stay close to him, thinking one day he’ll lose Derek when he finds his soulmate. And anything Derek gives him in the meantime will be worth it. The benefit arrangement happens when Stiles is in college. They kind of just fall into it.

Derek, meanwhile, has been halfway in love with Stiles for years. He knows Stiles can see color, knows he’s not Stiles’s soulmate. He doesn’t know who is, just knows that something must have happened for them not to be with Stiles. But this, this he can give Stiles. A little bliss. When they finally have sex, just as Derek comes, he can see the world in startlingly vibrant colors. And then it’s gone, back to drab dull tones of gray.

He doesn’t tell Stiles. It probably doesn’t mean anything, right? It’s probably just something he made up because he wanted Stiles so bad for so long.

So he keeps quiet, tells no one. And if he mentally catalogues the color of Stiles’ eyes and moles and sex-flushed skin every time they fuck? Well, that’s Derek’s business.

I’m thinking Cora comes back to BH for a visit and brings a stack of articles with her. She’s doing a college paper on mismatched soulmates, because she remembers their parents being that way but loving each other anyway. And she stumbled on all sorts of technical and science and medical papers on people who are naturally colorblind and only see when they’re orgasming with their soulmate. The magic of their bond only goes so far. She’s excited at the prospect of it, sharing all these details with her brother. “Maybe mom and dad weren’t mismatched!” “Derek?” “Derek, what’s wrong?”

Queue more angst because Stiles IS Derek’s soulmate and Derek just “knows” he isn’t Stiles’.

He breaks it off with Stiles and takes off. Cora eventually stomps over to Stiles’ place because her brother left his phone at the loft and Stiles keeps calling and texting him and she doesn’t know what the fuck happened or where he went. So she blames him.

She’s halfway through a fantastically terrifying rant about “what the fuck did you do to my brother” when she realizes that Stiles appears to have been crying. Seriously, what the fuck is that?!

“I’m sorry, Cora. What the fuck did you expect me to do when my soulmate decided he didn’t want me anymore because he probably finally found HIS fucking soulmate and then he didn’t even bother to pretend he’s one of my best fucking friends anymore?! Throw a fucking party?” Stiles snarls, snapping from his silent stare at the ground once she verbalizes her thoughts about Stiles crying.

It hits her then, of course it does. The fucking strange look in her brother’s eyes when she told him about he articles, the widely known knowledge that Stiles had a soulmate who he wasn’t with, knowing that her brother hadn’t purportedly found his own soulmate yet, the theory that her father was naturally colorblind… Fucking genetics.

“Stiles, man the fuck up. I’m pretty sure Derek is colorblind. I’m probably colorblind.”

“I know Derek was fucking colorblind, Cora. How the fuck do you think I knew I wasn’t his soulmate?”

“Oh my god, the two of you have to be fucking made for each other. Stubborn self sacrificing idiot assholes, the both of you.”

burncold asked:

If you're still taking prompts for your ficathon, here is my suggestion: AU, where Derek and Boyd/Erica/Isaac take the same bus as Stiles everyday. The bus is so crowded and noisy, Derek and co. decide to just speak in ASL, instead of shouting. Stiles sees Derek do this, assumes Derek is deaf, and begins to learn ASL so that one day Stiles can ask Derek out. Cue awkward meet cute when Derek tries to order as drink and the cute barista (Stiles) starts try and sign to him. Derek is charmed.

Well, it took me forever, but let’s see how it turned out! Also, Signing Savvy, an ASL video dictionary, was very helpful here.

(5/10 for my 1k followers ficathon thingy! Oh man, I need to get a move on. I’m already nearly 300 followers past and I’m still not done…)

Right, so. He’s probably being creepy. Like, really really creepy. Seriously, what sort of person stays up until two in the morning watching youtube videos on basic ASL in order to talk to the hot guy on the bus who probably doesn’t even know he exists?

Well, Stiles does, apparently.

Because he’s a creeper.

God, this is a horrible idea.

—-

“Heeeey, Cora, light of my life,” Stiles says as he vaults over the counter at the coffee shop. Really, he’s kind of surprised he made it this time without injuring himself. The last time was a disaster – which probably means he should stop doing it, now that he thinks about it.

“What do you want?” Cora sighs, looking at him warily. “Also, if you don’t cut that out you’re going to get fired.”

“Deaton loves me too much,” Stiles scoffs, pinning his nametag to his uniform.

“I’m pretty sure he’s nearly fired you nine times,” Cora snorts, which, yeah, is probably true. “Now, what did you need from me?”

“Why are you assuming that I need something from you?” Stiles asks, his tone as innocent as he can possibly make it.

“You called me the ‘light of your life.’ You need something,” Cora answers, giving him an unimpressed look.

“Fine, fine,” Stiles sighs. “I need you to teach me ASL.”

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Fantasy Drabble - Final Part

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X

Stiles is staring at his phone before he even really acknowledges thinking about it.

Derek’s name stares back up at him, black and judging in the shadowed room.

All the times Stiles has thought about just calling Derek: while they fumbled through communication in Fantasies, when the pressure of wearing two faces and not knowing how much was real had gotten to be too much… And now here Stiles sits, the echo of Boyd’s parting words in the air, and typing out a simple message has never felt so impossible.

“Has this last week felt good to you?”

Seriously, what kind of a question is that?

This past month has been kind of the most amazing experience in Stiles’ life. Reaching out to Derek and having him reach back, seeing Derek fight a smile and flush when Erica called him out on his “crush.” Sitting with Derek in the loft, watching movies, a hair’s breadth from leaning into him, from burying himself against all that muscled warmth for real…

Has this last week been good?

Sunday through Wednesday, Stiles had felt dead inside. Empty, lost, the whole world a shadow around him. Had spent hours on end wondering where he’d gone wrong, and how he could go right, how he could make the shattered pieces inside of him fit back into some semblance of a person.

On Wednesday Derek had reached out to him, and Stiles had realized it was still possible to feel worse, because he knew all Derek had wanted was the Dreamer. He’d said point blank that Stiles should let it go, what they’d shared hadn’t been real.

And on Thursday night Stiles had wanted nothing more than to hurt Derek, to hurt him like Stiles was hurting, for not seeing what was right in front of him, not wanting Stiles, not seeing how damn perfect they could be together if he just let himself accept it, let them be happy…

And then Derek had had to go and care. Had felt the Dreamer’s misery and had stopped kissing back, stopped letting their bodies rock together and had just held him, soothed him, like he was wanted. Loved.

Stiles has never felt so amazing and so miserable in his life. Trust him and Derek to totally screw up falling in love, huh?

…And then there had been tonight.

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Leaving Time

They’re not fighting anymore by the time they get in the elevator. Not actively. Stiles has accepted that Derek’s going to have the meeting, and in return Derek’s agreed that Stiles can tag along. It’s a truce, of sorts. Specifically, it’s the sort where Stiles is glaring daggers at him, he’s been walking too quickly for the human to comfortably catch up, and they haven’t said a word to each other for the last fifteen minutes.

Derek doesn’t know what else he’s supposed to say - he’s already decided that he’s leaving Beacon Hills, and he’s clearly explained why at least three times now. If Stiles feels like being obtuse it’s not Derek’s problem. He thumbs the up button again, as if that will call the elevator faster, and pretends the silent treatment isn’t getting to him.

The air in the lobby is thin and chilled, barely holding scents beyond a faint metallic tang from all the brushed steel-and-glass decor. Overall, the building is a picture of minimalist affluence, right down to the muted ‘ding’ of the elevator arriving, the smooth way the doors slide open, and the elegant brushed-steel interior they reveal. Bridge and Branch Property Group definitely has the funds to buy his buildings at market rate, Derek thinks, which is the goal after all. Liquidating will free him to travel the way he wants, to buy a place and settle down somewhere better when the mood strikes him. If it ever does.

Stiles wedges himself into the back left corner of the elevator to sulk while Derek stands in the middle, facing the door and ignoring the ball of tense energy behind him. He hits the button for the 31st floor and the two of them remain in uncharacteristic silence as the elevator begins to ascend with a barely noticeable pull.

The back of Derek’s neck itches with the glare Stiles is still leveling at him and he crosses his arms. He has no idea why the kid drove all the way to Sacramento just to interfere with Derek’s wealth management planning; he says it’s so Derek doesn’t get cheated by scummy developers, but Derek obviously knows more about real estate than he does. Stiles keeps insisting it’s not the right time to sell, for example, when anyone who’s paying attention can see that it’s a perfectly good time to get out of the market.

He watches the lighted floor number tick up faster and faster as the elevator gains momentum. Despite their tenuous agreement, Stiles is only getting more worked up. He’s started to kick his heel back into the wall with a rubber thud-squeek and it’s making Derek on edge, too. Just what he needs right before a high-stakes financial negotiation. Unlike the lobby, the air in the confined space of the elevator quickly fills with the overbearing scent of Stiles’ anxiety, and his unsteady heartbeat is so loud it practically echoes. Well, Derek thinks with dark humor, a few floors left and they can be out of each other’s hair. For good maybe.

Then, with a jerk, the elevator comes to a complete halt.

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Halekingsourwolf's Tumblr Fic Master List

A list of all the fics I’ve posted on Tumblr so far, organized into series, episode tags, and general fics loosely sorted by genre (though honestly most of them belong in multiple categories). All Sterek.

Angstier

I see you better - Stiles is blinded in Mexico, Derek acts as his guide “dog.”

Soulsick - Stiles is cursed with a disease that will leave him worse than dead… and only the presence of soulmate can save him.

Ghost Story - Derek can see Stiles’ ghost, but only when he’s in his wolf form.

Alternate meets canon - Derek is suddenly faced with a Stiles who thinks he and Derek are in love.

Russian Roulette - Stiles and Derek are captured by hunters, and forced to play a twisted, lethal game.

Hospital - AU After a potentially relationship ending fight, Stiles gets a call that Derek’s in the hospital.

Beasts - When his friends are injured, Stiles calls up some instincts ingrained by the Nogitsune to save them.

Normal Again - Stiles is convinced that his life is a delusion, and the only way to pull himself out of it is to kill the people holding him there - his loved ones.

Zombie!AU - Stiles and Derek survive by staying together.

The Lone Wolf - AU - Derek hates everything the superheroes represent. Too bad his boyfriend seems to be obsessed with them.

Solace - Malia chooses to side with her father, and Stiles goes to Derek for comfort.

Being Human - Derek’s losing his powers, and Stiles goes to comfort him.

Claimed - Malia’s been marking Stiles, and it might mean more than he’d thought it did. (pre-Sterek)

Hometown encounters - Derek runs into some people he recognizes from before the fire.

Fluffier

Drunk dial - Stiles drinks too much eggnog and calls to wish Derek happy birthday.

Thanks Giving - post s.2, everyone has a lot of issues to work out.

Lazy Sunday - Stiles and Derek finally manage a quiet day together.

Autumn fluff - Stiles notices Derek noticing a sign for fall activities around town.

Collision of your kiss - tracking Stiles & Derek’s relationship until they collide following the s.4 finale

Cat person - Derek is jealous of Stiles’ new cat.

The (not so) Broken Road - Stiles & Derek are brought to an alternate reality, and realize they’re missing something they never knew they wanted.

The Proposal(s) - How Derek and Stiles get engaged.

Scars - Stiles is fascinated by Derek’s scar from his time as a human.

Jinx - AU - Derek is cursed with bad luck, and Stiles keeps saving him.

Drugged (on you) - spelled Derek acting drunk/talkative and very interested in a certain human.

Last wolves standing - Derek and Scott have been weirdly close lately, and Stiles is cool with it, seriously. He is absolutely, definitely not jealous.

When Skies are Grey - When a group of hunters pass through town, Derek has to hide out to keep Stiles and their newborn daughter safe.

Home for Christmas - Stiles comes home and feels disconnected from the pack. Derek has a present that might make him feel more at home.

Kiss Challenge - Sterek’s first kiss in under 500 words

Smuttier

Sex With Humans - Stiles has sex with Derek for the first time after he loses his wolf. It’s a very different experience for both of them.

Not Quite Done - sequel to “Once and Done”. It not breaking the rules if they do something different this time, is it?

Heartlines - Stiles was unwillingly turned by Peter. New Alpha Derek encounters his first beta.

Heat - drabble of wolf!Stlles going through his first heat.

“Dude, you stole my orgasms!” - Stiles spends the morning trying (and failing) to jerk off. Derek can’t stop getting hard.

Drugged!Derek - After Derek is drugged by a hunter, he starts confessing and acting on all the things he wants to do to Stiles…

Derek has a fixation for Stiles’ oral fixation

Episode Tags

Instinct - “117” - When Derek returns to his adult form, all he can think about is getting the scent of Kate off him.

Red means unsolved - “Muted” - (pre-slash) The red thread’s still connected to Derek for a reason, Stiles just isn’t sure why.

half a million - “Weaponized” - Stiles processing Scott having the money, and Derek’s impending death.

“Orphaned” - Stiles reacts to the fact that Derek’s been marked for death, and his dad’s injury.

Letters vs. Numbers - “Perishable” - A million dollars for one stranger’s life… How can Stiles not be tempted?

Smoke & Mirrors - Stiles and Derek have sex after Derek gains his wolf form. Knotting

Stepbrothers AU
Stiles and Derek definitely aren’t brothers, definitely don’t like each other. But when you’re forced to share a house together, frustration can resolve itself in all sorts of interesting ways.

The original fic

“The smut part”

The History Channel bit


Fantasy Drabbles
There’s a world where you can physically feel when someone’s fantasizing about you, but you have no idea who’s thinking it.

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI

The Rogue
X-Men AU

Original bit - Stiles is a card playing thief, and Derek’s a loner who kills anyone he touches.

Vacation - Stiles is dragging someone whose touch kills on a trip to the beach, seriously?

Parrish Stilinski-Hale ficlets
In which Deputy Parrish is actually Stiles and Derek’s time traveling son from the future.

The original headcanon

Before we begin… - Parrish convinces his fathers to let him travel back in time to meet his grandpa, Sheriff John Stilinski

Godmothers - Parrish remembers his godmothers, Lydia and Braeden

“Back to the Future” - Parrish had never felt pity for Marty McFly… until he starts worrying his own father, one Derek Hale, is developing feelings for him.

Memories - Fifteen - Parrish, at fifteen years old, uses magic in order sneak around with his first girlfriend without his parents noticing.

We bought our kid this stupid toy… - Stiles gets two year old Parrish a toy dog for Christmas and now it won’t shut up. Cuteness ensues.

And check out my AO3 for more fic.

The Amazing Part Is

You’re in love with a beautiful boy, and the amazing part is that he loves you back. He’s all dark honey eyes and buttermilk skin, moles down his neck that he lets you kiss and kiss again. He’s all sharp laughter and too wide sweeps of his arms, and it’s been ten months but you’re not thinking about your first anniversary you’re thinking about forever.

He tells you about the town he’s from, and you know those years growing up are built into the bedrock of him. But you also know that there are reasons he’s not going back. Things happened there that were the kind of bad he’s only come to terms with half way. He won’t quite tell you what they are, but he gives you the outlines: Erica, Boyd, Allison. You think it may have been something to do with drugs, definitely sounds like gangs. That was all a long time ago, though. You don’t hold it against him. How could you?

You don’t live together but you have a toothbrush in his bathroom. There’s a side of his bed that’s yours, a phone charger and two old glasses of water on the nightstand. When you say you love him, he smiles and he says, “I love you, too,” so brightly, like you’re a quick student who got the right answer. He says it like he’s pleased with you, like a reward. He doesn’t say it first, but then he isn’t particularly romantic. He’s fun and he can be thoughtful, but he doesn’t do lovey-dovey. He doesn’t do intense. Stiles is flighty, almost weightless in his constantly flitting attention. But you have a toothbrush in his bathroom, and you love him.

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For the Sterek Writers Kiss Challenge.

Stiles is a fox.

No, you don’t understand. He’s an actual fox, fluffy tail included. He has “cute little paws” and an “adorable little nose” and if Erica doesn’t fucking shut up, he’s going to bite off her fingers with his “dainty little teeth.”

It wouldn’t be too much of a loss. The might grow back.

“Well, from what I can tell, it looks like a curse,” Deaton announces, looking up from the old tome laid out on the steel examination table next to Stiles.

“So how do we break it?” Derek, of all people asks, his arms folded across his chest stiffly. Stiles does his best not to bristle at the obvious annoyance in his tone. It wasn’t like Stiles wanted to be turned into a fox. He’d knocked over the witch’s flowerpot on accident! Really!

“The traditional method,” Deaton replies simply. He almost sound bored. “Saliva to skin contact with a person who appreciates his human form more than his fox one.”

Everyone’s silent for a moment.

“I am not going to kiss a fox,” Lydia announces.

“Jesus Christ, can’t we just spit on him or something?” Jackson groans, and Stiles lets out a yip of indignation.

“Fucking hell,” Derek mutters, and suddenly he’s leaning down and planting a firm kiss right between Stiles’ ears.

“Saliva to skin contact, Mr. Hale, not saliva to fur,” Deaton says, sounding remarkably amused.

Derek grumbles something under his breath and then grab’s Stiles’ chin, tilting his head up and kissing him right –

 – on the nose.

Stiles blinks. He’s grateful to note that he can no longer feel his tail.

He can, however, still feel Derek’s lips on his nose.

Awkward.

“So, you appreciate my human form?” Stiles asks, still crouched on all fours on the examination table. “Because, you know, I really appreciate yours.”

Derek lets out an annoyed huff.

He also kisses Stiles on his – decidedly non-foxlike – lips. Stiles can’t help the way his eyes flutter shut as Derek’s lips press against his own, and he opens his mouth in a soft moan.

“Mr. Stilinski – ” he thinks he hears Deaton say, but he can’t be certain, because Derek’s tongue is pressing into his mouth, hot and wet and –

Stiles’ eyes snap open and he lets out a startled squeak.

Or, rather, a startled bark.

“What happened?” Derek demands, and Stiles has to crane his little fox neck to get a proper view of him.

“I was attempting to inform the two of you that too much salivary contact will merely turn him back,” Deaton sighs, and Stiles is so, so glad that he has fur at the moment, to hide his blush.

“Then how – ” Derek starts.

“If you’d also let me continue earlier, you’d have known that I have an alternative antidote,” Deaton interrupts, holding up jar of violently orange flowers.

Stiles isn’t quite sure if he’s grateful or mortified.

He decides he’s grateful when Derek kisses him again later.

anonymous asked:

I accidentally passed you an embarrassing note that was meant for my best friend dON’T YOU DARE READ IT.

“…. so, without the presence of telomerase, a section of single-stranded, or “unpaired”, DNA of between 100–200 nucleotides would remain that DNA Polymerase a cannot prime to produce a complementary daughter strand…” Professor Thompson intones, without a hint of excitement. To be fair, there hasn’t been a hint of excitement in his voice for the last 45 minutes, so why start now? Every once in a while he’ll pause to blink flatly at the lecture hall, pull the corners of his mouth down as if deeply disappointed in something, and then go right back to lecturing. He’s a pretty good speaker, Derek thinks… assuming his goal is putting the class into a coma of boredom.

Derek’s usually a diligent student, but his page of notes trails off after one measly, disjointed paragraph and the margins are filled with little spiral doodles. He doesn’t like biology on a good day, and a 9am lecture with the professor universally acknowledged to be the most boring in the department is a far cry from a good day. Unfortunately, he has to fill Berkeley’s science requirement somehow and this is what fits around the history classes he wanted to take.

He wishes now he’d gotten his requirements out of the way his freshman year. As a Junior, all the underclassmen in the lecture are only that much more annoying. If his grade-grubbing labmates whine to him one more time about making his powerpoint presentation “super polished, like, professional, I need to get a 4.0 so I can apply to Harvard,” he will not be held accountable for his actions.

There’s a flicking of white at the edge of his vision, and he turns, frowning, to see what it is. A kid from two rows back is leaning forward precariously to wave a folded piece of paper at the brown-haired guy who’s sitting right in front of Derek. The guy doesn’t seem to notice his friend’s efforts at all, but the rest of the friend’s row and most of Derek’s certainly have.

Derek huffs and grabs for the paper, but the kid jerks it out of his fingers.

“No!” he squawk-whispers. “It’s personal!” 

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I’m an idiot and I answered this in private to mad-madam-m, because I’m oh so smart. There’s angst ahead, with a happy ending.
Unbeta’ed, all mistakes are my own.

Derek was many things. He was too quiet, and had chronic case of bad mood. He was impatient, short-tempered and permanently angry. He was, at times, downright mean, he had a distinct lack of empathy for most people that not his family and friends, and he could push everybody he loved away with little effort.

Derek was many things, most of them not at all flattering, but the one thing Derek never considered himself was insane.

There was a time, right after the fire, that Derek was sure he was losing touch with reality. For the longest time, he couldn’t make himself react like a proper person, something that Laura had liked to tell him all the time. His emotions had been everywhere; Derek felt too much all the time, so much pain that he thought he wasn’t going to make it. Until apparently he burned himself out, and felt nothing but anger.

Those had been dark days. But even back then insanity had seemed like something he had merely flirted with, dance around the burning coals of his own mistakes, until he made it to the other side.

There were those hazy, weird days where Kate had messed with him, made him sixteen and naïve again, but madness hadn’t really been something he considered. He knew something was wrong, he just didn’t know what was. And then there was Stiles in his dreams, guiding him until he made it alright.

Stiles though. Stiles was the very reason why Derek was, right in that moment, questioning his sanity. Because after ten long, painful years, he could smell Stiles outside his apartment and that was driving Derek right into the madness alley.

He had smelled Stiles’ scent before he had even heard the doorbell. It had hit him like a punch to the gut, making his legs feel like jelly, and his heart race. Derek hadn’t be able to move at first, paralyzed by vivid memories of years before, memories he had never forgotten.

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onegirlintheback asked:

If you are still taking prompts can I request a daemon AU? Sterek yo! With Kira with something cute that will eff your day up.

Sorry, but I’m afraid there’s not much Kira in here. I tried to fit her in, but then the fic got away from me… her daemon’s a moon bear named Kosho, though. :)

(8/10 prompts for my 1k followers thingy!)

Stiles knows that Arimir isn’t exactly threatening, alright? Not likeDerek’s bulky Tamaskan, Cyra, or Kira’s huge moon bear, Kosho, or even his dad’sGerman shepherd, Ionnia.

Stiles could use a little threatening right now.

“What a cutie pie,” What’s-Her-Name says. (It’s either that or Stile calls her Villian-of-the-Week, but he’s not quite ready to accept that he has to deal with a villain every week, even though it’s been over three years since Scott was bitten.)

Arimir narrows her small, beady eyes and looks like she’s sorely tempted to bite the woman, give her a piece of her mind. Stiles is proud of her.

“I’d touch her, but she probably has rabies,” What’s-Her-Name muses, taking a step back – thank god. Not that Stiles appreciates the comment about Arimir being rabid. He has to settle for glaring at What’s-Her-Name, because his mouth is firmly duct taped shut, though. “Now, I just need to take a little bit of your blood – ”

A large, dark figure barrels through the door. Stiles would say he’s never been more grateful to see Cyra in his life, but, quite honestly, last week’s incident with the SoCal pack was probably worse than this.

Not that he’s not happy to see What’s-Her-Name unconscious and the knife knocked out of her hand.

Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s grateful for how roughly Derek rips the duct tape off his face.

“What the hell was that for?” Stiles snaps, rubbing the tender, reddened skin around his mouth. “I totally didn’t do anything to deserve that this time.”

“You got yourself kidnapped,” Derek growls, like that’s somehow Stiles’ fault.

“That’s victim blaming,” Stiles protests, although he’s not really paying that much attention to Derek anymore, instead focusing on picking the lock on Arimir’s tiny cage. A chill travels through his body as he remembers the icy, painful sensation of the witch’s unwelcome hands on her.

“You need to stop,” Derek snaps, making Stiles look over at him in confusion.

“Stop what?” he asks, petting Arimir and letting her climb up into his hair.

“Snooping around where you’re not supposed to be, threatening werewolves, wandering around the woods after dark,” Derek answers, as if that’s supposed to be obvious.

“Hey, we went into that magic store because we were trying to get that stupid book on binding spells for you,” Arimir snaps, her fur bristling. “We were trying to help!”

Derek glares at her. Arimir never really got the hang of letting her human do the talking for her. Not that Stiles minds. He never really got the hang of not addressing other people’s daemons himself.

“You can’t protect yourself,” Derek says, turning his attention back to Stiles. “You’re going to get yourself killed, because Arimir’s a fucking squirrel.

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And Yet...

For the Sterek writer’s network prompt on body swapping! ONLY ONE DAY LATE AREN’T YOU PROUD OF ME??

Waking up in an unfamiliar place is like taking an icicle of pure fear right to the chest: instant terror. Stiles knows too well what it’s like to wake up where you hadn’t slept, to lose time and wonder where your body went, what it did with itself while you weren’t around. His feet kick at the sheets, tangling, and he accidentally knocks the flat itchy pillow out from under his head and over the side of the bed. He can feel his heart pounding overtime - but for once it doesn’t get hard to breathe the second the fear catches hold. No panic attack.

The fact that he isn’t spiraling sends him the other direction, to calm. If there’s no panic attack, he must be alright. Looking around, it’s not hard to figure out that he’s in a hotel room; there’s a small table and two boxy chairs by the small window, an identical twin bed next to the one he’s in, and a truly uninspired painting on the wall behind him. It’s miles better than a weird basement or mental institution. He’s fine. He’ll be fine.

He draws a shaky breath - God, does this room smell; of bleach, B.O, and a hint of someone’s perfume - and rubs his hands over his face. Or, he rubs warm, calloused palms that are attached to thick, blunt fingers, over a generously stubbled face.

What?

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mark my (final) words on your skin

Everyone has a tattoo on their skin–words from their soulmate. Only it’s not the first words they hear from their soul mate–it’s the last. Soulmark!AU

Derek’s mark said “I love you,” so every time someone says that, he panics and leaves them.

He never knows if they were the one.

When he gets with Stiles, something in him settles. So he asks Stiles one thing. “Don’t fall in love with me.”

Stiles takes it as a challenge.

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22 Prompt Fill Masterlist

22 short fics, all Sterek.

1/22 – Rogue!Derek/Gambit!Stiles add-on

2/22 – magically high, talkative Derek

3/22 – Stepbrothers AU

4/22 - Cursed!Derek constantly getting saved by Stiles

5/22 – Stiles is fascinated by Derek’s scar

6/22 - Sterek proposal

7/22 – “Dude! You stole my orgasms!”

8/22 – Alpha!Derek/beta!Stiles

9/22 – Sterek family, mustached!Derek

10/22 – Canon-meets-AU, Stiles & Derek end up in another world where their counterparts are a couple & have a baby together

11/22 – Zombie Apocalypse

12/22 - “Normal Again”, Stiles is convinced he has to kill the pack

13/22 – Derek is jealous of Stiles’ new cat

14/22 - “Collision of your kiss”, Sterek’s relationship over the years, canon

15/22 – Heat!fic

16/22 – Dark Stiles, post-Nogitsune, protecting the pack

17/22 – forced to play Russian Roulette

18/22 – Derek ends up in the hospital after an argument

19/22 – Autumn festivities

20/22 – Knotting fic, post s4

21/22 – AU meets canon, an alternate Stiles appears in our world and brings a lot of angst & confusion for everyone

22/22 – Lazy Sterek Sunday in bed

Happy Valentines!

Quick note: I’ve decided to focus on Scott’s perspective here, using an external POV, but I wanted to include a reminder that the plot touches on some really emotional stuff, and Stiles or Derek’s version would be a very serious, angsty fic. Hope you enjoy, and happy Valentines day!


Hello Counselor,


I am writing to ask if you could please advise me regarding a very difficult situation I am having with my pack. Satomi told me that you are one of the most respected counselors for werewolves and other supernatural creatures, so I thought that maybe you would be able help me even though nobody else has been able to. It’s a little complicated and I don’t feel comfortable writing all the details down, but would you be willing to come to Beacon Hills and talk to me about how to fix this?


I’d appreciate any help you can give!
– Scott McCall

The note is earnest, if vague. Honestly, though, the Counselor would be heading to California that night to lend his expertise no matter what tone it was written in. In his fifteen years serving supernatural clients, he has seen pretty much every dysfunction there is to see, but only almost, and the McCall pack is the most unconventional to exist since the 1600s. Against every rule in the book, they have allied with hunters, other species, and welcomed not one but two former alphas in their territory… after murdering one of them. His professional curiosity demands he go check the situation out in person.

Theoretically, all the various beings that make up the strange pack obey McCall, the True Alpha… but there are rumors. One of the former Alphas, Derek, has taken McCall’s second in command as his mate. If that’s good, submissive Beta behavior, the Counselor will eat his hat. The rumors are of insubordination, a coup even. Of course McCall wouldn’t want to write directly about something so sensitive - explaining the circumspect letter. Yes, the Counselor is going to California. He cracks his knuckles with a small, private smile. Bringing this pack back from the brink of civil war would be a crowning achievement for his career.

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