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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a time to remember || sterek || 2.7k

Loosely inspired by A Walk to Remember


Derek is in third period when he meets the new kid. The kid is tall–not enormously so, but he’s about an inch taller than Derek. Derek thinks the kid might be hot if he wore clothes that actually fit. His brown hair is hair is a little rumpled and his face a little pale and sleep worn, neither of which helps. 

Not that Derek cares, really. He feels on top of the world. He’d gotten to third base with Paige last night and she still kissed him goodnight afterward.

Derek doesn’t remember much about third period. Just the kid, mostly. His name was Krzesimir, seriously.

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you-absolute-bagel asked #50 with pack mom so here it is!

“Not only moms cook, Scott,” Stiles snaps at him from the kitchen in response to Scott calling him the pack mom. “And does that make you the pack dad? Because I’m sure Allison and Isaac are more than capable of fulfilling your romantic and sexual needs.”

Scott blushes at that and ducks his head. “I just meant. You’re cooking for the whole pack, dude.”

“Yeah? Who else is gonna do it? Isaac?” Stiles points his wooden spoon at the werewolf who has been banned from the kitchen and can only get as close as sitting at the kitchen table, which is where he is. 

He looks up at Stiles guiltily with a scowl. “I burned the lasagna one time.”

“You almost burned down the Hale house,” Stiles chastises. “And really? Derek needs to go through that again? Over my dead body.”

“Pretty sure he wants to be over your live body,” Isaac snorts.

Stiles can’t even dignify that with a response honestly because it’s just ridiculous.

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I’m About To Sterek The Fuck Out Of 6B: The Fanfic

For every new episode of Teen Wolf this season, I am going to to an installment of FBI Stiles and his Werewolf Informant Derek. To make up for what is bound to be a trainwreck to my favourite characters.

A bit of info:

So the lovely @withmyteeth posted this 

with FBI Stiles going with to meet a scary informant for a touch supernatural case. Only for Stiles to start SHOUTING in surprise that it’s a certain leather-clad, angry-eyebrowed werewolf. 

Cue confused partner and cliche and wonderful bantering and bickering a la Sterek style.

And because the Sterek fandom has EXPLODED in excitement since the release of the 6B trailer, and we all know that Jeff and Co. aren’t even gonna begin to do Sterek justice, I want to do this fic to make up for our lack of deserving Sterek content.

I will post each chapter here on my Sterek blog, as well as my ao3.

The Way to My Heart (French Insults) | KuriKuri | 10k | Teen

Letting out a long sigh, Derek turns away and braces himself for the next hellish filming segment. After all, apparently he’s going to have to smile while greeting twenty-five contestants. Shit, what if they try to hug him? Or, god forbid, kiss

He doesn’t get any further with that thought, because a limo pulls into the driveway. He braces himself for the worst. The worst, who… actually doesn’t look that horrifying.

“I’ve been dying to meet you!” she exclaims as she catches sight of him.

Then, she flings herself at him and ensnares him in a bone-crushing hug.

Scratch that – she’s completely horrifying. And Derek’s pretty sure he can hear errand boy what’s-his-face laughing in the distance.

(Or: In which Derek gets roped into being the ‘eligible bachelor’ on a dating show and instead falls for one of the show’s interns.)


The Adventures of FBI Stiles - Part One

Stiles wants to thank Rafe a thousand times over and he wants to throw him in the nearest pit of hell for all the shit he’s had to put up with since he was offered the ability to work with the FBI. Sure, he was used to skirting the law, hell it felt weird when he WASN’T. But this was the FBI for fuck’s sake. And okay, there were a lot of people involved in the application process, and things easily could be lost or messed up, but on the chance that he got found out, Stiles could go to prison. Guantanamo Bay at this point, for all the things he’d seen on FBI time.

Not to mention all the people that he’d come in contact since he got his official FBI badge. Would he drag every one of them down with him too?

Okay, okay. So maybe he could convince the big guys in charge that it was all on Rafe for this? He was the one who said he could help Stiles in to the FBI. He never said it would involve ILLEGALLY entering the agency without the usual four years of college, the strenuous background check, and security clearance.  

Well, the security clearance was a work in progress. Even just the basic clearance takes about 60 days and he’d only just been in DC for a month. He may have been given the account info of his superior so he can access the more top-secret databases. (Top Secret clearance can take up to 9 months, and there were important baddies Stiles had to help catch. Legal channel could wait, apparently.)  

For the background check, god, the favors Rafe must have had to use to interview Stiles’ neighbors and practically everyone in Beacon Hills about him, and NOT make him sound like a psychopath or serial killer … The FBI personnel file on Mieczyslaw “Stiles” Stilinski was wrapped in blackmail, secrets, lies, and NDAs of all involved so that Stiles looked as wonderful and sought-after as possible.  

On paper, he was the well-behaved son of the Beacon Hill’s sheriff. Glowing school record; salutatorian, right below Lydia Martin, of course; edited compliments from Finstock (the original of which Stiles found and vowed to frame in the future). Every interview of neighbors and acquaintances (especially nosy Mrs. Carson) were nice and normal. Comments from the staff at Sarah’s Café was void of any mention of supernatural events or odd mentions of him having bruises constantly and blood always showing up on his clothes when he’d show up at their diner at ridiculous hours of the night. He looked so stellar, Stiles didn’t know if anyone would believe he was the same person as his file.

*     *     *     *     *

By the time Stiles was leaving Beacon Hills after the Ghost Riders disaster, Rafe had already begun processing Stiles’ FBI application. (He still thought about finding someone to complain to and demand recompense for his pain from that nightmare)

Sometimes Stiles had to stop asking questions, because the whole goddamn town was a disappearing act for three months before he left. That almost definitely meant that Rafe had people working on him getting in to the FBI for a while.  

Thankfully Scott’s dad had realised that there were things that went bump in the night and the rag-tag group of teenagers and Derek were actually trying to fight off those creatures.  So it was only slightly surprising that Stiles was offered to work with agents on the more supernatural cases. Stiles may have tried to ask about the X Files division a bit to enthusiastically as soon as Rafe told him the news.  

It was actually quite a quick thing, because one minute Team Good Guys finally defeated the Big Bad of the Month (the semester, really at this point), and the next Stiles was told there was a spot at the FBI waiting for him if he wanted it. It was really only after Stiles was packing up the most helpful magic books and clothes that weren’t flannel and screen tees, did Rafe decide to mention that bringing Stiles on as an agent involved all kinds of illegal actions. Yet, because of unexplainable and gruesome crimes reaching dangerous levels and Stiles’ extensive experience, the people in charge of “It’s Not the X Files, Stiles” Totally the X Files were willing to do whatever it took so Stiles could work for them.

*     *     *     *     *

After a decent flight and barely a second of reprieve in the almost swanky hotel room, all paid for by the lovely people at the FBI, thank all the deities that shine upon him, Stiles had to report to some random business building to meet the people in charge of his fate.

He had another X Files joke on the tip of his tongue the moment he entered the right room, but was instead intimidated in to sitting down in the nearest chair by the angriest, buffest guy in a suit he’d ever seen.  Perhaps he had a history in the military, maybe a bodybuilder. Definite possibility of both.

“I have been fully briefed on you Mr. Stilinski,” the man glowered at him. Well, that was DEFINITELY not a good sign. Stiles’ eyes went comically wide in concern and slight fear.  

“Yes, I do mean fully.” The man showed no signs of letting Stiles speak any time soon. “Agent McCall has used resources in extreme measures to help get you here, and my people speak very highly of you. I have seen what you can do.” Stiles began to open his mouth to respond, but the man didn’t allow him. “My people have our ways. As soon as Agent McCall found our office and informed us that all unexplained events had not only been explained but handled by you and your friends, we began doing what we could to keep an eye on you. You aren’t the easiest group to keep track of.”

Despite the importance of the situation, Stiles was already getting distracted by his surroundings, specifically the stacks and stacks of papers covering the handful of tables that filled the room. It was a pavlovian response of sorts; whenever his father had case files strewn across the dining room table, he did whatever it took to get as much info as he could when his dad wasn’t looking. So being surrounded by manila folders, envelopes, and the occasional photo peeking out of the papers, they were all just calling his name to be looked at.  

He had started running his hands across the papers the moment he sat down, but he was about to reach for one of the files, when he thought better of it. “Can I…” he thought twice about waving a folder in the guy’s face. “If these are above my clearance, this is severe cruelty to my curiosity,” Stiles flailed his arms in the general direction of the mountains of paper.  

“Technically everything you do and see here will be above your security clearance.” The man looked both smug and severe at this, which only made Stiles want to mentally swear louder. “The legal aspects of your work will be handled by me and the rest of the team. You will be officially documented as an intern with us, but will act with the capacity of a fully-fledged agent.”  

Stiles spluttered in surprise. “You actually trust me with that much power? Didn’t you just say you were fully briefed about me?”

“With the amount of cases and depth of research you will have to go through to solve them, you’ll want all the resources available to you.”

“Hey Giles!” A voice started from the hallway, getting closer to the room. “You even tell the kid what our division is, or are were you planning on shrouding us in a shadow mystery for a few more hours?” Someone with frazzled hair poked their head in to the doorway, eyes quickly narrowing in mock annoyance at Giles (if that actually turned out to be his name, Stiles might have to rethink his life choices. And maybe sharpen a stake or two.) “You know we got a shit ton of cases to solve by the Winter Solstice so if you could hurry this up, that’d be great.” The door quickly opened the rest of the way, and they more or less swooshed in to the room, now clearly panting. And maybe smoking a bit? Yep, there were definitely singe marks and wisps of smoke throughout their clothes.

They quickly walked over to Stiles and patted his shoulder. “Actually no, scratch that. There’s a dragon manifesting itself in the relics library and the ghost of Hannibal haunting my ass, so I’m gonna steal our illegally acquired prodigy here and get to work on saving the day. You know where the timer is, I’m trying to beat my personal best of the week.” Trying to keep track of what was happening, Stiles hadn’t realized he was being whisked away by the crazy scientist type agent.  

Halfway out the door, as his brain restarted, Stiles halted. “Wait, what are you timing? Are we saving the day or working on your lap time?”  

Scientist Agent smiled so brightly as they answered. “I’m trying to beat my personal best. Current winner is when I stopped the rise of zombie Hitler, a coven of witches planning on killing all readheads – no really, they were close, I was a bit slow on that one, and solved an argument between two different culture’s angels of death. In between breakfast and lunch.”

God, okay. What kind of lives do these agents have? “That must have been quite the morning,” Stiles eyes couldn’t get wide enough. Maybe he could pick the team’s brains for their adventures and knowledge on different creatures. Good thing he had a copy of the bestiary encrypted and hidden in his suitcase. If he could just ask a few questions about the crazier days, he’d probably put the whole Hale library to shame, he’d have to find a larger file system to hold it all, he could…

“What? No. Just a slightly shorter morning. That was just last week. And I’ve been trying to get as fast as the rest of the team. I’m one of the slower ones when it comes to saving the day. That’s why I’ve got the timer.”

Shit. What kind of abilities did Rafe think Stiles had? They know he’s human, right? And this division of supernatural crime fighters expected him to what, be able to do what they couldn’t do?  

The smell of smoke was getting stronger, and yep, he just heard a lion sized roar blended with the sound of paper rippling.  

“You know how to calm down book dragons, right? This one’s in a rarer dialect of Arthurian Welsh, and whatever monk copied this did a really bad job. But it shouldn’t take too long. God, you’re lucky today’s apocalypse is so easy.”

Oh fuck.

(A/N): Sorry for the late posting, had some terrible car troubles. I should have this up on AO3 soon. Check back for new updates on this as 6B continues 

info on this story HERE 

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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anonymous asked:

alice, your cowardice fic was so good, but i am so sad now, because derek is sad and i can't handle sad derek. can you fix it and make poor derek happy? pretty please with a cherry on top?

I am sorry this took me like three months.

Part One

Derek’s just taking his jacket off when he gets the call.

“Hey, can you come get me?” Stiles asks, his voice a brittle octave higher than usual.

“Of course,” Derek says automatically, shrugging the jacket back on. “What, uh… I mean, now?”

“Thanks,” Stiles says, and hangs up.

Something’s clearly wrong. The entire drive over, Derek is imagining worst case scenarios: Jake took the bombshell about the supernatural poorly, exposed them to the whole restaurant; a new monster attacked them and Jake’s wounded; no, Scott’s in danger, or Kira, or Lydia; it’s the Sheriff, he had a stroke, a heart attack, was shot in the line of duty. By the time Derek finally pulls up to Delphine’s again, he’s sure something truly terrible has occurred. The sight of Stiles sitting on the curb, hunched miserably over his own knees, only confirms his fears.

Leaving the Camaro crookedly paralleled, he jogs across the street and after a moment’s hesitation puts a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Hey,” he says softly. “What happened?” The warmth of Stiles’ skin bleeds through his dress shirt to Derek’s palm. He strokes his thumb back and forth gently, ashamed of the flash of pleasure he feels at touching Stiles like this. He’s supposed to be comforting a friend. “Are you okay?”

“Mhmm,” Stiles hums reedily, sitting up straight and squaring his shoulders in one quick movement. His eyes are rimmed red. “Can we just go?”

“Yeah,” Derek assures him. “Yeah. Is Jake…?”

“Nope,” Stiles confirms shortly. He only gives the street a cursory check before striding over the the car, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

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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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this-is-andavs  asked:

Over 1k, fuck yeah! My prompt word is sleep. Because sleepy and peaceful Sterek is very important to me.

“Sleep” for my 1k prompt event!

“Sleep bad,” Stiles insists, stumbling on his feet and clumsily yanking at his tie. “Sex good!”

“Sleep good, too,” Derek counters, shoving Stiles gently back onto the hotel bed and kneeling to strip his shoes, dress pants and socks off. Well, at least they’re on the same page about getting naked.

But when Stiles finally struggles out of his shirt and makes a grab for Derek’s boxers, he is rudely diverted by the covers being tugged up around him, and then Derek is tucking them both in.

“It’s been a long day,” he coaxes. “We’re both exhausted. It’s okay, let’s just sleep.”

Stiles pouts. “No-o, we can’t! I had plans! Was gonna be-” he has to break off to yawn. The sheets and puffy white mountains of comforter feel warm and nice… really nice, like… clouds or something… only, no. None of that! He forces his eyes back open, because he can almost feel Derek’s ‘I was right’ smirk. “Epic! It was - is going to be epic.”

“Hmm,” Derek says incredulously. “I don’t know about you, but I am not up for epic anything right now.”

Stiles sighs. “This is why they tell you to fuck beforehand, isn’t it?”

“Which we did,” Derek reminds him wryly, clicking the lights off.

“Well, yeah,” Stiles admits. “But I wouldn’t-” he muffles another yawn- “wouldn’t mind a second round.” He rubs up against Derek’s side, crotch first, and it’s supposed to be hot and sexy… but from Derek’s chuckle, it reads more as adorable, puppy-puddle cuddling.

“How about tomorrow before the brunch?” Derek offers. He noses into the side of Stiles’ neck, scenting him. God, Stiles loves it when he does that, the hint of instinctual possessiveness that he’s more often so careful to hide.

Not that Stiles doesn’t love that too, how he’s usually so thoughtful and thorough, like when he goes down on Stiles and seems to catalog each reaction for future use, looking up through his dark lashes to make eye contact as he does that one thing with his lips…

“Nooowww,” Stiles whines, wriggling against Derek’s thigh. “It’s bad luck if we don’t! You have werewolf stamina, you can do the work. I’ll just lay here and enjoy. We can put a pillow under my hips or something.”

“Ah yes, you make it sound so appealing,” Derek says, but he strokes Stiles’ side as if he’s considering.

“Haha, jokes on you,” Stiles says, letting his heavy eyelids droop closed as he enjoys the lazy contact. “Sex with me is always appealing. Or is bed death already setting in?”

“Don’t think a lack of passion is gonna be our problem,” Derek says into Stiles ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down Stiles spine even before he nips his earlobe. Stiles’ breath catches, and he turns into Derek’s mouth for a sloppy, awkwardly angled kiss.

And then, just as he’s getting into it, he’s manhandled onto his side and his back is snugged firmly against Derek’s tummy and chest.

“Sleep,” Derek insists again.

“Fine,” Stiles says, or tries to. It comes out as another huge yawn. His limbs feel pleasantly heavy from all the dancing, his head muzzy with the buzz from all the champagne toasts.

“Wake you up with a blowjob tomorrow,” Derek offers, sounding moments from dozing off himself.

“Yeah,” Stiles sighs happily, rubbing his face into the downy pillow. Sleep, actually, good after all. He threads his fingers through Derek’s to pull his arm tighter around his chest, and the last thing he notices as he sinks into dreams is the unfamiliar feeling of their new rings pressing into each other.

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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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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Knot a Problem

For sterekwriters Spin the Bottle event (prompt from captaintinymite): I’m on the verge of tears because of a rude customer and you step in and stand up for me’ AU- Bonus points if it’s Derek that’s near tears and includes angry, yelling Stiles.

Derek feels a tickle at the back of his neck like he’s being watched, and sure enough, when he glances up suspiciously from his book, he catches a now-familiar pair of brown eyes darting away. He scowls. At least the customer looks abashed to be caught staring; he taps his long fingers nervously along the display shelves as he ducks into the aisle of condoms at the back of the store.

The guy’s tall and slim, young-looking enough that Derek had double checked his ID when he came in. He’s got an adorable pert nose and enticing triangle of moles on his cheek, and it would have been great to have an excuse to kick him out, because he is distractingly Derek’s type. Unfortunately, he’d obviously been at least the 24 years his ID had given him on closer inspection. He’d been hotter, too, all whiskey-brown eyes and easy wide smile.

Now, though, his behavior is more distracting than his looks. After quickly making his purchase, he had gone right back to wandering aimlessly around the store. Well, wandering and eyeing Derek. Probably he’d just come here to grab a gag gift for somebody’s bachelor party, and figured he could enjoy the view while he was here. Derek grits his teeth and flips to the next page in his textbook, refusing to acknowledge the guy again. He’s not unused to being treated like a piece of meat when he subs in for Cora here, unfortunately; this is a sex shop after all. Specifically, it’s a werewolf sex shop, which only makes things worse.

It was Laura’s idea, of course. It had seemed like a joke at first, but she’d gone through with it: getting a lease, registering her business, leasing this space just off the main downtown drag. “Knot a Problem” is generously stocked with gag gifts to bring in the curious, toys for human couples who want to try out knotting (or for weres who want to experience taking one without the emotional complications), alongside nice-to-haves like the knot cozies and specialty pillows to help couples wait the tying period out comfortably.

They also have a schedule of after-hours classes for various were-related topics like managing bonding hormones, how to prep for anal knotting, and incorporating a third without triggering territorial behavior in your wolf. It’s probably the only place in town where people can get unbiased info on that kind of thing, actually. The store’s true purpose, in other words, is advocacy and education. Advocacy and education that just happen to be wrapped up in an acceptably capitalist package that includes giant purple knot dildos.

Derek still feels like it’s kind of a joke, but it’s his sister’s baby. She and Cora tell him all the time that it’s important to demystify werewolf sexuality, make it fun and playful, and considering the long history of speciesist misinformation and fetishizing that’s probably true. Even though his grad school schedule is pretty full, he’s happy enough to help out at the counter while both of them are in Seattle at a conference for independently owned sex shops.

Correction: he’s happy except for the fact that, in practice, it’s a minor nightmare for him to be behind the counter. He’s not bold and unembarrassed about sex stuff like his sisters are, and it’s awkward as hell to sell people vibrators and lube and straws with tiny knotted penises on them. Sure, he’d love for society to view him as less of a ravenous sex beast just because he’s a werewolf, but he really doesn’t enjoy the process of teaching people like Laura and Cora do. It’s not prudish, as he’s often snapped at them, to want to treat sex like something intimate and private. He feels the tickle at the back of his neck again, and rolls his eyes. Only four hours ‘till closing.

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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.


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.

Russian Roulette sequel - trauma recovery with a side of smut.

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.

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.

Threads I - II
“She didn’t hypnotize you into loving me, Stiles. She altered your memories so you think you should.”

Warped Echo I
Derek Hale has been presumed dead since the Hale house fire nearly seven years ago. Stiles and Scott run into a glowing-eyed wolf out in the preserve… as though they don’t have enough on their plate in the aftermath of their sacrifices to the Nematon.

An (im) Perfect System - Stiles has always felt pretty lucky about his soul mark. After all, how many conversations tend to start with “This is private property”?


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

Derek’s trapped as a wolf? - Stiles will look after him anyway

Kissing the Shoreline - Stiles doesn’t want just any summer fling. He wants Derek. And Lydia is determined to help Stiles get him.

Derek punches a shark - “Derek dove to Stiles’ rescue,” Scott intones. “Literally.”

not so horrible vacation - Because two weeks. Two weeks on some godforsaken island with limited cell service and only his uncle-slash-guardian and his new husband, Chris, for company. 

TV time - Stiles gets Derek to watch a bad TV show. (In which Derek is the Sterek fandom).


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

Almost - A moment of everything they almost have.

Slow Burn - Stiles gets a sunburn. Derek helps him feel better

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.


Angel - From the second he sweeps into their lives, shouting for Scott and Stiles to run while he faces down the inhuman creature barreling toward them (awerewolf, Stiles learns later, an alpha werewolf), Stiles knows he’s in trouble.

I Only Have Eyes For You - “The school’s haunted,” Lydia says, abruptly enough that it startles a laugh out of Stiles. She arches a brow at him, and he chokes it off.
“What, seriously?”

Conversations With Dead People - She’s not really here. He can tell that by the absence of scent, of her familiar, steady heartbeat. He’d used to measure his breaths by the beat of Laura’s heart, and the damning reminder that it isn’t pumping anymore, that he won’t ever hear it again, is almost more painful than the sight of her.

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.`

Something Blue (one) - “Derek and I are getting married!” Scott says

Something Blue (two) - “I don’t give a shit about the ceremony, Derek. I wantyou.”

Band Candy - “Derek, that’s really cool and all,” Scott says, low and urgent. “But you really need to come back down now, ok?”

Doppelgangland - Stiles is different today.

Gone - In the end, he probably should have had “researching the disappearing greenery” higher on his to-do list, because he’s just hopping out of his Jeep after school when a shiver like static electricity goes through him, and when he looks down he is not there.

And check out my AO3 for more fic.

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.”

moonwasours  asked:

yay for 1k! how about 'gym rat,' though technically not one word.

“Gym rat” for my literally never ending 1k prompt event! I think this is actually a  year past due but here you are anyways! 

“Gym rats and I don’t get along,” Stiles grunts in between reps. He’s only on his first set, but he already feels like he’s dying.

Scott, frustratingly not struggling in the slightest despite his heavier weights, makes a cute noise of disappointment. “You shouldn’t write him off so quickly. You’re at the gym too, aren’t you?”

“Because I need to pass the physical to be a cop!” Stiles insists. “It’s not like I’m working out five days a week for the hell of it.”

“Maybe he isn’t either.”

Stiles laughs - wheezes, more like. “He gets here before me every day, and he doesn’t leave until after I hit the shower. He’s not even lifting half of that time! Always hanging around correcting other peoples’ form… and you should see him chatting with the staff. I’m telling you, he basically lives here.”

“So you’ve noticed him,” Scott says, looking meaningfully over at the guy.

Stiles resolutely doesn’t follow his gaze. He already knows what Buff Beardy Dude looks like: about his height, dark hair, face like a Greek god, built as fuck. “Not my type, sorry.”

That’s Scott’s cue to laugh. “He’s absolutely your type,” he corrects smugly.

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Fantasy Drabble part IV (EDITED!! This was a muddled mess before, so I’ve prettied it up for you all.)

“So There is a world where whenever someone fantasizes about you, you can physically feel it, but you have no idea who is thinking it about you.”- sterekismydrugofchoice

| part one | part two | part three | side drabble |

He can’t begin to explain how this has happened. Just five days since Stiles had shuddered to completion alone in a bathroom stall during luch, and his entire life seems to have spiraled into a Fantasy. Because this can’t be real. This can’t actually be real.

…But whatever it is, he sure as hell isn’t giving it up.

Phantom hands trail up his sides, teasing across his ribs.

Stiles bites down on a grin and lets his eyes flutter for the barest second, enjoying the sensation.

But he’s in math class again, fuck. What is it about ten in the morning that gets Derek all hot and bothered? Sighing, he slides his eyes closed and imagines his index finger tapping over Derek’s lips.



Five days earlier…

After lunch, Stiles can’t stop thinking about it. How is he expected to stop thinking about it, seriously? Is there a way to make imagining Derek’s hands all over him – and not just his hands, not just his hands at all – a full time job? Or an internship, maybe, because he might not be getting paid but he’s definitely getting some valuable life experience out of these Fantasies.

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Happy Birthday, Mr. Hale by mikkimouse (tumblr)


He expected some level of chaos to greet him. He did not expect to see Stiles standing shirtless in the living room, wearing a sparkly tiara on his head and a pink tutu over his jeans, holding Mia’s tea set in one hand and a plastic sword in the other.

Stiles flushed, pink splotching his cheeks and spreading halfway down his pale, toned chest. Derek wanted to bite it, wanted to pinch those puffy nipples and tease them with his tongue, wanted to shove Stiles up against the wall and make him flusheverywhere.

(Or: Derek is a single dad celebrating his 30th birthday. Stiles is the college student who babysits for him. Smut ensues.)

Best Sunburn Ever!

Here is my first ficlet for my sterekwriters Summer Bingo Event. So this is for the prompt sunburn.


It’s Stiles fault really. He should have been more aware.

His whole torso, back and shoulders was burning. The beach trip was a bad idea, and he blames Derek for suggesting it.

“It’s your fault.” Stiles grumbles, for probably the fifteenth time in five minutes.

Derek just rolls his eyes.

“You should have remembered to put on sun screen Stiles.”

“I wouldn’t even have to have remembered if you didn’t choose such a stupid trip.”

Derek’s eyes roll again and Stiles wants to punch him.

“You had fun, the pack had fun. It was a success. You should have remembered.”

Stiles sighed and had to admit to the fact that Derek was right. It was a fun trip. Everyone was happy and laughing, no signs of danger, for the first time in three years. Even Derek was smiling a lot more, happily throwing Erica into the sea.

It still stands however; this was Derek’s fault.

“Still your fault.” He whispers quietly, knowing that Derek could hear as he disappeared from the living room of his new house.

“Is not!” Derek shouts back.

It takes a minute before Derek comes back with a bottle in his hand.

“What’s that?”

“Aloe Vera, it will help soothe your burns.” Derek says as he takes a seat beside Stiles. “Now turn around so I can rub this in.”

Stiles heaves a sigh and with a grit of his teeth he moves so Derek is faced with the expanse of his back. “It’s going to hurt.” He says pitifully.

“No it won’t.” Is Derek’s reply as his hand presses softly against his burnt skin. Stiles hisses all for a moment at the sting of someone pressing against his sensitive skin and the coldness of the Aloe Vera before he feels himself relax, the pain disappearing almost as if it was being leeched out of his skin.

“I love the werewolf healing powers.” Stiles admits as he slumps and lets Derek lather his back in the lotion.

Stiles turns when instructed, now face to face with Derek as he starts rubbing the Aloe Vera into his chest. Stiles can’t help watch the concentration in Derek’s face, the way his tongue peeks out a little as he tries to carefully apply it, even when Stiles can’t feel a thing because he’s taking away his pain.

When Derek finishes his eyes meet Stiles and for some reason Stiles can’t turn away. He just wants. He wants so bad. He has wanted for a long time. Derek has become a lot softer around the edges now. He joins in with the pack nights, he smiles more often and oh, if only Stiles could just get a picture, he’d cherish it. He licks his lips, his mouth suddenly dry as Derek’s lips lift up slightly, a warm smile just for Stiles.

“Derek.” Stiles manages to get out in a whisper.

“Yeah?” Is Derek’s soft reply.

“What is happening right now?” Stiles asks because this staring has been going on for too long and he doesn’t know what to do. All he wants to do is lean in.

“What do you want to happen, Stiles?”

“I want to kiss you.” Stiles says, shocked by his own admission. However, Derek is looking at Stiles, in a way he has never seen him look at anyone else and he wants. So bad.

Derek leans in, his lips brushing against Stiles’ own as he whispers. “Then do it.”

And that’s all Stiles needs to close the distance, his lips pressing reverently against Derek’s. It feels like a dream. Derek’s lips are pressing more firmly against Stiles’ own now and their lips are moving together. Stiles closes his eyes, prays he isn’t dreaming as he pinches his arm.

Big mistake, Stiles pulls away with a groan at the pain shooting through him. Why did he have to ruin the moment by pinching his burnt skin. He’s such an idiot.

Derek chuckles, a laugh that warms Stiles’ heart. “You are an idiot.” He says around his chuckle as he leans back and grabs the bottle.

Stiles grins and lets Derek apply the Aloe Vera to his arms. “Best sunburn ever.” 


I haven’t wrote in a long time so sorry if this isn’t good.