#Professor! Derek Hale

[schrijverr]

The Oddity of Professor Hale

Professor Hale might be a good teacher, but Elle just knows something is off about him Why won’t anyone else in her class see that? And when will the flirting stop? Along with those stupid theories about his marriage. She just wants to learn about history.

On AO3.

Ships: Sterek

Warnings: Derek is uncomfortable about flirting

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Professor Hale is a weird man. Handsome, sure, but weird.

Well, maybe that is a bit unfair, but when he just got hired work went around pretty quickly of the too handsome to be true History professor. So, the class quickly filled up, which sucks for Elle, who needs the credit and is now surrounded by horny people in her 9:00 AM lecture.

And all those horny people are apparently perfectly content to ignore how fucking strange their professor actually is. Not, Elle, however.

It isn’t that professor Hale’s quirks aren’t productive, but they are weird. Everyone has learned not to whisper in his classes. It’s like he has super hearing. He’ll know when you’re talking with a partner and not about the lecture, and he is not afraid to call you out on it in front of everyone. Even if it shouldn’t be possible to hear from that distance. They’re with 300 people in that class, for god’s sake.

But when she told her friend, Kai, about it, he just sighed dreamily and muttered something about how attentive professor Hale is, an innuendo baked into it.

The same goes for phones and texting, he has a strict rule against them. A rule, which should have been impossible to enforce on this scale, but professor Hale manages.

Within two weeks seven phones have been confiscated and their owners told to retrieve them after the lecture. Though, Elle is pretty sure two of those were on purpose to get extra time and a chance to strike up a conversation with professor Hale.

It’s a bit annoying that students will try to flirt with professor Hale. One he is a professor and they really shouldn’t and two it interrupts the lesson from time to time. The fact that professor Hale seems to agree with her, is a redeeming quality.

Though how he shows his displeasure is yet another oddity of him. He seems to know who is coming up to him with a genuine question and who is just trying to get his attention. Elle sees how his posture is different with each, what she doesn’t know is why he tends to smell the air, wrinkling his nose when the person in question is coming up to flirt.

He is swift to shut those coming up to flirt down. It’s always a bit funny to see how he quickly he redirects them and sends them off. Elle can’t help, but think he wants to add something when he does, but he always remains silent.

Professor Hale is a bit of brick wall in that regard. He never engages in personal questions or prompts to distract him from the topic at hand. The class doesn’t even know his first name. Elle is perfectly fine with that, though she does have to listen to discussion about what name suits the ‘dark and handsome’ professor best.

She is pretty sure that were it not for her fellow students, professor Hale would be her favourite professor there.

He has concise lesson plans, keeps on schedule and knows how to keep the class in line. He also has a deep knowledge about the material (about which Elle has again heard many innuendos) and he is enthusiastic about what he teaches.

Elle loves History and she wants to enjoy this class. She manages for the most part, but moments like these make it difficult.

Kelly is up there right now. She is wearing a crop top, a short skirt and fishnets, despite the fact that it’s fall. And she has just come up to professor Hale’s desk, leaning on it as she points at something in her notes, twirling her hair as she does.

She is fucking hot, Elle can see that, because Kelly has like the perfect legs and a cute tummy that she wants to kiss. However, she can also see that professor Hale is mighty uncomfortable, which takes away from her hotness as she continues on.

Professor Hale is giving her short, clipped answers. He is leaning away and his body language is guarded. Elle even thinks his lip is starting to curl into a snarl, another oddity of the man.

It’s a common sight in this lecture, but Elle just wishes it would stop. She mutters to herself: “God, just be horny for someone else, people. Is it that hard to just learn the material?”

And she swears to the lord almighty above that professor Hale shoots her a pained agreeing look as she does. Fuck, another thing for on the list that makes professor Hale weird. Though in fairness, she noticed before how he’ll look to the door, before it is opened, as if he heard before it was possible, whenever someone is late.

Kelly is oblivious to all this, as they all seem to be. Too busy horning over their professor to pick up on the clues that something is serious off about him.

At this point Elle is just waiting for Kelly to run out of things to ask with professor Hale’s quick and curt answers hurrying them along. It’s a bit routine now, though a routine Elle would like to stop, though she knows that isn’t happening soon.

Naturally the gods are out there to prove her wrong, because the routine is broken not even moments later with professor Hale loudly snapping: “Can you please get out of my space, I’m married.”

The whole class falls silent.

Elle just knows this is going to get interesting in the worst way possible. Kelly looks positively shocked and professor Hale is grimacing, ears slightly pink. She checks – all of them do, probably – there is no ring on his finger.

“What?” Kelly splutters a bit, sliding off the desk and tugging a bit on her clothes, obviously embarrassed that she caused the outburst in front of everyone.

“I’m sorry,” professor Hale says, rubbing the back of his head. “You were just getting really close and usually the person runs out of things to say, but you kept going. It’s really uncomfortable, I panicked a bit.”

Apparently professor Hale hasn’t been oblivious (which Elle already knew, though she heard enough about him being adorably oblivious to know there are enough that didn’t). Hearing that the man is uncomfortable to the point of lying – because really, no ring? Go with partner there – is a bit of a wake up call.

Kelly hurries off without a reply and they’re dismissed early. For once nobody sticking around for after class for study tips.

The next few lectures are silent and quiet. Elle would be more relieved about finally being able to follow the lectures normally if there wasn’t such an oppressive aura in the hall. Everyone is aware of professor Hale, watching him as if he’ll explode again. They are all aware of their interactions with him and he seems to try his best to ignore it, but it’s not really working.

This strange vibe drags on for a while. Elle is pretty sure it’s what will save most of the grades in their room, since everyone is focused on their work to avoid upsetting professor Hale. Professor Hale looks like he is aware of the mood, but doesn’t mind it enough to break it himself.

Finally Kai can’t take it anymore and Elle would be semi-grateful for him lightening up the room, were she not sitting next to him when he asks: “What’s your spouse like, professor Hale?”

Kai has luckily dropped the mooning over professor Hale, claiming that he can appreciate art as long as the art isn’t uncomfortable. He now also has a boyfriend, so Elle is not saved from the poetry of an English major, it is, however, no longer about her professor. So, she counts it as a win overall.

She doesn’t know if professor Hale catches on to the fact that Kai isn’t trying to sus out the competition or something, though he takes a moment, flaring his nostrils, before he answers: “He is a complete dumbass, who is lucky he’s pretty.”

Like Elle, no one in the room had expected an answer. So, they’re all a bit surprised that Mr. Brick Wall is willingly telling them things, especially such a thing. It should be an insult, though professor Hale sounds incredibly fond as he describes his husband. Elle can honestly say that his eyes are full of pure love and she knows in that moment that no one ever stood a chance with him.

Next to her Kai smiles, he has also caught onto the love in professor Hale’s voice and since he is a romantic at heart, he is melting. He asks: “How did you meet him?”

Professor Hale hesitates for a moment, as if he is embarrassed about the meeting. While Elle couldn’t be less interested in professor Hale’s jawline, she is definitely in the story behind that look. She might not be attracted, but she can be a nosy bitch.

After a moment, professor Hale says: “My uncle got to know his best friend due to… work, kind of shoved him on me. He and my husband are kind of a package deal. He grew on me.”

Elle thinks it’s a bit of an odd story, but she isn’t going to say that and apparently neither is Kai, who has been appointed at class speaker for this conversation. Instead he just asks: “Can I ask why no ring?”

None of them, including Elle, know that they do have a ring, but that Derek was afraid to paint an extra target on Stiles’ back in this new place. Stiles told him he was being ridiculous since he followed the pack out there to keep an eye on them while in college, but dutifully followed the no ring on campus rule.

“I think that’s enough questions for today, Mr. Durant,” professor Hale replies without answer, before moving on with his lecture.

It seems like that’s the end of the sharing but it breaks the oppressive vibe. Professor Hale is still a human under there, wanting to teach, just bit private. The whole conversation is the most human they’ve seen him. And the fact that he doesn’t hate them all is enough to remove the eggs shells from under their feet.

For a moment, Elle thinks this is it. They stopped flirting, they stopped being weird. She can finally enjoy her fascinating class and good professor in peace.

Of course, the gods are still out to get her, because instead of focusing on the material, they turn to theories, along with a bit of pining on the side. Some of the theories are quite funny, like Steve’s, who claims the man is was part of a circus and met his husband there or Nikki, who is convinced professor Hale has Stockholm Syndrome and was taken by a serial killer in his youth.

Some dumbasses are still calculating how big their chances at being a homewrecker are, but those are shut down pretty soon by people who don’t want any more shit with their professor.

The most popular theories are model, film star or other famous person, since beauty attracts beauty, or something. Though one girl suggests he is married to a student, since she heard about a boy on campus being married. That, however, gets shut down by Kelly, who claimed he is weird kid and way nowhere near professor Hale’s league.

Professor Hale’s husband gains a bit of a mysterious legendary status among the people in the lecture. All of them are curious, some even filling the old flirt spaces with questions about the husband.

But professor Hale is still a brick wall about his personal life, refusing to share anything in a way that only adds to the mystery.

Which is why the reveal is both overwhelming and underwhelming. They’re in the middle of discussing the impacts of industrialization on social stratification when professor Hale looks to the side moments before the door is slammed open.

In comes, what can only be described as, a flurry chaotic blur. It’s a lanky kid, who can’t be older than nineteen, though Elle wouldn’t think it weird if he claimed he is sixteen.

Usually when people are late, especially this late, they try to slip in as quietly as possible, but not this kid. This kid is not only clumsy, stumbling over himself, but he is also loud. He comes in, his mouth already running a mile a minute.

“I swear to god, I’m making this up to you at some point, I would wiggle my brows here but I know you’re gonna ask for my brownies – which I’m not even going to pretend to be upset about, by the way, my brownies are epic – so I’m not even going to bother,” he says, shoving what he’s holding into professor Hale’s hands.

“Stiles, what-” professor Hale manages, before – Stiles apparently – barrels on.

“Scott just called me over, because there is this thing, you know, the thing with the water. Anyway, he wants to go check it out, I have to go stop him, because he is an idiot. But we both know that’s not going to happen, so I’ll probably end up nearly drowned and my laptop is in my bag and it has my final project on it and I don’t have time to swing home to drop it off. Keep it safe for me.”

“Wait, Stiles,” professor Hale calls out practically forgetting all the eyes on him. “I’m coming with you.”

“No, you are not, because I am going to be fine, save tripping over myself and falling into a lake that will hopefully not come alive to drown me,” Stiles replies. “I’m serious, Derek.” (professor Hale’s name is Derek???) “Scott will be there, and Isaac and Boyd are coming too. We’re gonna be safe, don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

And then, to cause the final blue screen for everyone there, he pecks professor Hale on the mouth, before running off, calling out a quick: “Love you, Der-bear.”

Professor Hale is fully blushing, still clutching the worn out backpack the other had shoved into his hands. Stiles is nearly out of the door when he has the mind to yell back: “Love you too, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Never,” Stiles grins, turning as he opens the door and winks. “I am stupid, doing stupid is your thing.” Then he’s gone as professor Hale splutters something intelligible.

The whole room is silent, reminiscent of the outburst a while back.

Professor Hale looks a bit dazed, blinking a few times and looking between the bag and the door once, before he seems to remember he’s in a lecture. Almost hesitantly, he turns to the class, putting the bag down and clearing his throat.

Before he can say anything, move on or ignore what just happened, Kelly says: “Oh my god, was that your husband?”

It’s pretty obvious from the way he literally kissed professor Hale goodbye and that he loved him and called him Der-bear. Like holy shit, that really just happened. With the exclamation of Kelly, however, it all hits them and the room explodes.

All the noise overwhelms professor Hale and Elle can’t blame him. If he can hear whispers across the hall, then this must be pretty painful.

“Okay, be quiet, everyone!” he calls out, it is practically a roar and Elle is impressed by how loud and commanding he manages to get his voice.

Once everyone has settled down, he says: “That was indeed my husband. He is probably going to do something stupid, so I’d like to get through the material as fast as possible and maybe let you go a bit early.”

And he keeps his word, not letting anyone derail his class as he moves through his lecture at a slightly higher pace, though one can still write along. He keeps glancing at the clock and anxiously tapping his foot, tiling his head as if listening to something in the distance.

Elle thinks it’s kinda cute how worried he is, but she mostly wonders what the hell Stiles was on about and if it has anything to do with why professor Hale is so weird.

Everyone is buzzing about it when professor Hale lets them go, not even waiting until they’ve started packing as he hurries out of the room, Stiles’ bag in hand. Elle hears Kelly loudly exclaim: “I can’t believe the weird criminology student managed to land professor Hale.”

It was a theory Elle laughed about when it was posed. Professor Hale just didn’t seem the type to date someone younger than him, the imbalance making him uncomfortable. It’s a bit strange that it’s true.

But then she remembers the lack of rings, probably to give both of them some semblance of normality and privacy. Besides, it isn’t like he’s giving Stiles special treatment, seeing that he isn’t even near this department and no one knows they’re together.

She also can’t forget how comfortable Stiles was when he came barreling into their lecture, how he was assuring professor Hale he was going to be fine. He looked happy, despite the apparent crisis and joked easily, not even minding he was embarrassing professor Hale – sorry, Der-bear – in front of his class.

Nah, that relationship looks as healthy as it’s going to get, so Elle makes her peace with it and tries to ignore her classmate’s theories about how to befriend Stiles to get information on professor Hale, some people giggling as they call him Derek or, yes, Dear-bear… sigh, like it’s prized knowledge.

God, she just knows next lecture is going to be a shitshow and they were going to get into formation of political ideologies too. She actually likes that topic.

Of course she is entirely correct. Professor Hale doesn’t even try to start the lecture. He enters when they’re already seated, saying: “Sorry for running a bit late, I had to pick up some chalk on-” he looks up and sighs. “None of you are going to pay attention, are you?”

A few have the balls to shake their head no and Kelly starts them out by saying: “So, your husband. He seems nice.”

Professor Hale rolls his eyes whether it’s at the fact that his husband is being called nice or at the obviousness in the comment, Elle doesn’t know. Still, he replies: “He is.”

“Is he okay?” Elle asks, her voice taking herself by surprise as much as professor Hale, who raises a brow at the usually quiet girl and she mumblingly adds: “It just sounded like something bad was going on.”

His face softens a bit and he says: “He is alright. Didn’t manage to stay dry however.” He smirks at the last bit, as if it’s incredibly funny, but doesn’t elaborate further. The class doesn’t exactly know that the water spirit Scott thought was a danger, was actually pretty chill and they made peace with it, but not before it rocked the boat with only Stiles falling out.

“That’s- That’s good,” Elle says quickly, wanting to sink into oblivion. She hates speaking up in the lectures, she actually send professor Hale an email about it once and he hasn’t called on her again in class discussions, which she is quite grateful for.

Professor Hale quickly gets the attention off her by addressing everyone: “He is fine and not relevant to any of you. My husband will not be on the exam, but political ideologies in industrial Europe will.”

There is some groaning and Kai calls out: “Really, that’s all we’re going to get, professor?”

“Yes,” professor Hale tells him sternly. “I appreciate the interest, but I am not here to be your friend, alright. I am here to teach you about History and my personal life has no business in this room. Now, please, lets get back at the topic at hand, because if you all manage to convince me I am never shutting up and I prefer to leave the rambling to Stiles.”

Despite his sternness, professor Hale lets something slip and Elle smiles at the memory of Stiles never ending stream of words, trying to imagine professor Hale doing the same. It’s a bit sweet how the stoic professor apparently will ramble about his spouse.

The class is never satisfied, but they are mollified by professor Hale’s reply and let him actually begin teaching.

His lecture about the political streams and their origin is fascinating and Elle takes notes enthusiastically. Professor Hale might be a bit weird and she hates having to listen to poetry about his eyes, but he is an amazing teacher and she has enough shitty professors that she’s willing to overlook his oddities.

Besides, if someone as chatty and friendly and obviously clumsy as Stiles can love him, how weird can he possibly be?

~~

A/N:

In case you are wondering, yes, Elle is a lesbian, bc I wanted to push my confusion and mild exasperation about Derek’s apparent hotness on someone lmao

[elisela]

follow through sterek, ~600, college au, professor/coach, established relationship day 4: bright red also on ao3

The force with which Stiles slams the paper down on the desk causes a coffee cup to rattle on its coaster, and he takes a moment to despair that he’s in love with an idiot who insists on using coasters despite the desk being treated like garbage by every professor who had used it for the past thirty years.

Not right now, though. Right now, he’s decidedly not in love, and most definitely pissed.

“My star attacker, Derek,” he says, gesturing to the paper angrily and keeping his eyes strictly above Derek’s neckline. He will not look below, because Derek is choosing to torture him with a tight navy blue t-shirt that shows off his pecs and biceps indecently, and if he looks he’ll get all dopey-eyed and it’ll ruin the effect. “Explain yourself.”

Derek hardly glances over at the paper, the bright red zero bold above a scribbled see me. “That note wasn’t meant for you. Send Theo in and I’ll explain myself to him.”

“I will withhold blow jobs for a month,” Stiles swears, despite knowing he will absolutely cave the moment they get in bed. Or in the kitchen. Or, if Derek lets him, right here at his desk.

Derek knows it too by the way he huffs out a breath of laughter. “Sure.”

“No sex at all.”

“Okay.”

He casts around for a threat he’ll actually follow through on and grins triumphantly. “I’ll tell Laura you’d love to spend spring break helping her move from her ninth floor walk-up.”

Derek makes a face. “It’s not his paper. It’s the same as a student’s from another section, word for word.”

Stiles groans. “Idiot,” he says. “He didn’t even change a few words?”

“Not the point,” Derek says, frowning.

“Unless he accidentally—maybe they’re in the same frat, maybe he just, just—picked up the wrong—”

“Stiles.”

“Maybe that kid took—” he gives up before he even finishes. “Alright, big guy, how can I get you to give him another chance? I’ll make him write the paper in front of me if that will help.”

“You’d just end up writing it for him,” Derek says. “Be glad I didn’t report it. If he does it again, I’m taking it to the dean.”

“I’ll blow you.”

“You really need to stop trying to use that as a selling point,” Derek says, but he’s starting to grin.

“I’ll tell Laura you’re really too busy to help her move.”

“I’m telling her that anyway,” Derek says, picking up the pen he’d set down when Stiles came in and returning to the paper in front of him.

Stiles takes a deep breath and pulls out his best offer—the one he was hoping to save for when he really fucked something up, but losing his best player to academic ineligibility weeks before the championship is something he can’t allow to happen. “Practice is over at six, the team clears out by seven,” he says, putting his hands down on either side of the paper Derek’s correcting and leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Why don’t you come by then and we can run a few drills, maybe you can see what it takes to convince me to put you on first line?”

He’d feel slightly guilty about using Derek’s fantasies to his advantage if it weren’t for the way Derek’s breath caught in his throat slightly before the pen in his hand snapped right in half. 

“Bring your old jersey, Hale,” he breathes out, and straightens up, clearing his throat as he backs away from the desk. “I’ll have Theo turn in a new paper by Friday.”

[dreamlandforever]

When History Met Science

(Teen Wolf | General Audience | Sterek | 30k words | 11/11 Chapters)

AO3 Link

Professor Derek Hale has been teaching History for three years, and has painstakingly kept his private life, private. He would not consider himself a lonely man (no matter what his sister says). Until a certain biology professor, Stiles Stilisnki, arrives at the university. From mistaking him for a student, to becoming friends, could Stiles be the person that makes Derek want to give love another chance?

Chapter 1.

The Wrong Vibes

Professor Derek Hale was in the middle of explaining the Ottoman rule in Palestine from 1840 to 1918, deep into the topic of the Second Wave of Jewish Immigration to Palestine. It was one of his favorite topics, so he allowed himself a little more time to explain certain events. Given the significance of the time period, it was important his students understood what exactly had happened and why.

His class was almost always full, which he was thankful for. However, he was aware that some students were there for all the wrong reasons. He had joined the faculty almost three years ago now, but, according to Isaac, he had become somewhat of a sensation among the students. Derek liked to believe it was due to his very thought-out explanations and his willingness to always answer any question a student may pose, but he isn’t blind. Even if he’d rather lie to himself sometimes.

To his credit though, he seemingly developed a sixth sense about two and a half years ago. He’s very good at knowing when someone walks in late, even with his back to the door, and at knowing when someone is being disruptive, even in a lecture hall of over 100 students. And right now, someone walked in almost halfway through his lecture, and was sitting somewhere in the back whispering to someone else. Derek stopped talking for a second, letting his chalk remain on the chalkboard without writing anything down. He stayed like that, not saying a single word, until the only sound he could hear was the low buzzing of the projector. It took less than a minute, and then he continued on like nothing had happened for the last thirty minutes of class.

Once class ended, he turned around to dismiss his students, while trying to dust off the chalk from his hands. It had taken a while, almost his entire first semester teaching, but now all his classes knew better than to leave without being dismissed. All 107 eyes were still set on him, and everyone was still sitting down. Which made it easy for him to find the person who had disrupted his teaching today.

He was slightly taken aback, but not completely surprised, when he saw a smiling Stiles Stilinski sitting in the back row. Derek scoffed slightly, trying not to laugh in front of his entire class.

“Class is dismissed, thank you for your time,” he said, loud enough for every row to be able to hear him. The class erupted into chaos, everyone trying to rush out while cramming everything on their desks inside their bags.

Derek turned toward his desk, back to the class once again, carefully putting everything into his briefcase in the exact order he liked it. If he took a little longer than usual to give Stiles time to navigate the wave of people while going against the flow, no one other than himself had to know that. He zipped his briefcase at the same time as he felt someone stand right next to him. It was always easy to know when Stiles was near, the energy around him seemed to vibrate in a way that only someone with Stiles’ levels of anxiety might be able to emanate without physically shaking.

“You interrupted my class today,” he said in lieu of a greeting, turning to the younger man.

“I got here as soon as I could, the Biology and History departments aren’t exactly next to each other. And we scientists aren’t exactly known for our physical prowess either. I ran like a madman which, you know, means I was going barely above average speed.” Stiles smiled widely, sitting down on the desk.

Derek couldn’t help but snort at that. “Stiles, I’ve seen you run. Sure you run weird, limbs going everywhere, and most of the time you end up on the floor, but you’re actually fast.”

“Not fast enough for you not to bite my head off, apparently.”

“Why are you here, Stiles?” he asked at last, motioning for Stiles to follow him to his office. The lecture hall will be needed in about 15 minutes, and Derek is a firm believer in better safe than sorry.

“Oh, so, you know…”

“So, a favor. Start talking, Stiles.”

“There’s a faculty dinner tonight.”

Derek was slightly more confused now than he usually was in all his interactions with Stiles. “I…Yeah, I know.”

“And, you know, I am faculty.”

Derek rolled his eyes at that. “It was one time, Stiles. One time.”

“You almost threw me out of the break room! I had had a total of 0 coffees that day, and we were doing bacterial growth kinetics. I was sleep deprived!”

“Okay. We’ve had this discussion before, Stiles. You looked way too young to be faculty, you had a Batman shirt on and the biggest under-eye bags I have ever seen, and when I walked in you greeted me with ‘hey, dude’. Was I really supposed to think you were a college professor?” Derek raised a single eyebrow at Stiles, daring him to fight him on this. Once the man had opened and closed his mouth three times without emitting a single sound, Derek turned around to open the door to the office he shares with Isaac, stepping aside to let Stiles walk in first. Isaac was probably still in the middle of his class, so they had a bit of time. Isaac usually arrived at the office after class with one or two students trailing behind him, asking a million questions.

“Look, whatever. You were wrong, dude, “

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek admonished, before Stiles could really get started in on his tirade.

“You were wrong, Professor Hale. I’m a genetics professor, and I’m old enough to be a genetics professor. Actually, I’m old enough to have a PhD in something you still think is a weird STD.” Stiles bypassed Derek’s chair and both the visitor chairs to sit on the desk, his pointer finger flying wildly while he accused Derek.

“I still think transposing cripsy cas sounds like an STD,” Derek said, grabbing Stiles’ finger and pointing it away from his face, while he made his way to one of the guest chairs, so he could sit down facing Stiles. He had long ago given up on trying to force Stiles to sit on something made for sitting.

“I know you know that isn’t what it’s called! And transposons and CRISPR-Cas technology are absolutely going to save your life one day, mister. But now that we’ve established that we’re both professors and, therefore, members of the faculty, I wanted to know if you’d be my ride to the faculty meeting. I’m staying late to work on an experiment tonight, and my car is still in the shop. Lydia said she’d pick me up, but the school is way farther away from her than the restaurant,” Stiles explained, turning big hopeful eyes at Derek.

Derek tried hard not to let his feelings show. Lydia Martin was their star math professor, just back from a year-long absence, where she was working on a new math program with the university, in collaboration with MIT, while also winning two world-wide contests. The woman was as smart as she was elegant, and she seemed to be really close to Stiles.

When Derek first joined the faculty, Lydia Martin was all the students and professors seemed to talk about. About a year later, she left to work on the new joint program, which the university was more than happy about. During that year, Stiles arrived, mid-semester, after Professor Greenberg had to take sick leave from some kind of lacrosse accident. Somehow, during that first semester, Stiles and Derek had become really good friends. Derek had even thought that maybe they could be something more. But then Lydia Martin had come back, and now Derek had to share Stiles’ times with Lydia.

He smiled tightly. “Yes, I will drive you to the dinner, Stiles. I’m working late today, anyway,” he offered, not meeting Stiles’ eyes.

“I know, man! You have to grade papers today; I’ve been hearing your students complain for like a week. That’s why I knew you wouldn’t make me walk! Or get a taxi. I get very dizzy when I ride in the back,” Stiles talked animatedly. Soon, the topic changed and both men were talking about nothing and everything, in easy conversation the way they had always done. Exactly what had made Derek once believe they could be something more. But now was not the time for that.

“It is not a generality, Aimée, like I said you need to apply it case by case. There are no laws when it comes to psychology.” Isaac’s voice carried from the corridor, as he made his way to his shared office. Like Derek predicted, Isaac came inside followed by two girls and a boy. Based on Isaac’s face, they seemed to be very curious about a topic Isaac loved talking about. Derek did what he did best and ignored everything happening on the other half of the office and focused on Stiles. The man talked with his whole body, so it was easy to dedicate all of his attention to him.

After a few minutes or maybe a half hour, Derek wasn’t really sure anymore, Isaac made his way to the other visitor’s chair to Derek’s left. It had to be before 3 pm, because Stiles had class at 3.

“What are we talking about?” Isaac asked animatedly, while taking out a few tests to grade.

“Aliens!” Stiles answered happily, grinning at the Psychology professor. To Isaac’s credit, he didn’t even blink.

“Do we believe or do we not?” he asked without looking away from the test he was currently grading.

“We, as smart people, do. Derek, as a general hater of the universe, does not.”

“I… you know what? Yes, that, Isaac.” Derek gave up trying to explain to Stiles he believed in aliens, he just didn’t believe in short, green, angry people. Or gray probe-obsessed things.

Isaac nodded once. “You know, I was under the impression that professors were mature and professional. You two prove to me every single day that that isn’t the case.”

“I only signed up for being hot and smart, scarf boy,” challenged Stiles, crossing both legs under him, now entirely on top of the desk. How that was comfortable, Derek would never understand. “Is that why you wear the scarves every day? For professionalism?”

“No, Stiles, same as you. For the hot factor.”

Derek just sighed. He had known Isaac for almost 12 years now—they were both on the basketball team in elementary school, though Isaac was a year below him. They had been inseparable ever since and had somehow ended up teaching at the same university, reuniting after having gone to different colleges. And while he was glad for the chance to spend more time with his best friend, he sometimes felt like there was a much bigger age difference between the two of them than there actually was. Like whenever he was speaking to Stiles.

“Oh, don’t worry, you are the hottest girl at this university,” assured Stiles, taking one of the tests Isaac had finished grading. “And also the meanest girl. Half points for this half-a-page essay?”

“It doesn’t say what it’s supposed to say, no matter how long it is.”

“I don’t understand how you can be this big of an asshole and still be so loved.”

“It’s the scarf,” Derek quipped, making Stiles bark a laugh. Isaac only shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe it’s the hot girl part. We will never know.”

“I think it’s the whole hot girl/mean girl combination. Makes you irresistible,” joked Stiles, winking at Isaac.

The three of them were laughing openly when someone knocked on the door. Derek stood up to answer, only to find Lydia Martin standing there, in a beautiful baby blue tartan skirt suit. Sobering up immediately, Derek smiled tightly.

“Doctor Martin, how can we help you?” He moved aside to let her come in. Lydia had never come to his office before, but he guessed it had more to do with Stiles currently being there than anything.

As if to prove his point, Stiles immediately jumped off the desk and stood up straight. “My queen. To what do I owe the pleasure? I thought you had lunch off campus today with Erica?” he asked confused, though he relaxed his posture. He was back to half-sitting on the desk.

“Hello, Professor Hale, Professor Lahey,” she greeted them cordially, giving them a small smile, and completely ignoring Stiles. “You can just call me Lydia, both of you, no need for so much formality,” she added with another smile. Then she turned to Stiles, the warmth she previously had when speaking to the other two professors suddenly gone. “And no, Stiles, we do,” she corrected, crossing her arms over her chest and giving Stiles a meaningful look. She looked like a predator.

Derek expected Stiles to recoil at that. Even he felt the need slightly, but he found that the younger man was anything but intimidated by her.

“What? No, she specifically said girls’ night, and I have that experiment in class in like an hour. I cannot do lunch, Lyds,” he defended immediately, pointing widely at his wrist watch. Derek noticed that it was a digital Star Wars Casio watch and tried not to laugh. Although he was pretty sure those were collectible, it looked much too old-fashioned to just be from Stiles’ childhood.

“That still gives you an hour, move your ass or we’re leaving without you.” With a small nod at both Isaac and Derek, she turned around to leave. “Have a good day, professors.”

“Derek.” Derek hadn’t even realized he had spoken out loud until he felt all eyes on him. “If you’re just Lydia, then I’m Derek. Like you said, no need to be so formal. I don’t actually like being called professor by my colleagues,” he explained quickly, fighting hard not to blush. He might have pulled it off because while Isaac was looking at him weirdly, he wasn’t outright laughing at him.

“Isaac,” his best friend offered immediately after. “And it’s very nice to have you back, Lydia. The Math department just wasn’t the same without you. I really missed seeing students cry right after my Psychology of Cults class.”

Lydia smiled widely at him—the first time Derek had ever seen her smile like that. She was absolutely gorgeous; no wonder Stiles was always around her. “Me? Isaac, I have had your students come crying to me, begging to be allowed late entry to one of my classes.”

“I don’t know whose idea it was to keep your introductory math class right next to mine, but I love it,” he answered honestly. Derek could see he was still looking at him from the corner of his eye, but he ignored him, keeping his attention on Lydia Martin.

Stiles marched over to Lydia and offered his arm to her, which she took gratefully. Derek saw another type of smile he hadn’t seen on her. While not as wide as the one she shot at Isaac, the smile was warm and completely sincere. “I knew you would come around, Stiles,” she said, almost too low for Derek to catch.

“I have no clue what the two of you have planned, or why you want me there, but we have 50 minutes. I hope you can walk fast in those death traps you have on,” he mentioned, signaling toward Lydia’s stilettos.

“Stiles, I can walk better in these shoes than you can barefoot. If you trip on your own feet and make me fall, I will make sure you wake up bald. And your hair is one of those things that are actually working for you.”

“I used to shave my head in high school.”

“I remember.”

“You said I looked okay!”

“That I did.”

Derek could still hear them bickering until they were too far down the hallway for him to make out what they were saying. Isaac and he remained silent for about 3 minutes, before his best friend decided it was time to grill him.

“Why do you always bring him here after class? Is this some weird attempt to make him fall in love with you? Normal people just ask other people out, you know. Your office—actually, your shared office—isn’t exactly romantic.” Isaac spoke way faster than he normally did, while closing the door to their office and going back to sit on Derek’s visitor’s chair.

“I love teaching right next to you?” Derek shot back, unable to get over that little comment.

“That is not what I said, but unlike you I do speak to other professors on the regular, and it’s nice having Lydia around. The man that was filling her position while she was away nearly as fun, and the students didn’t seem to want to cry every time. It was as if you were replaced by Professor Harris. No one likes taking history with that guy, he’s weird.” Isaac was speaking slower now, and Derek realized he was sidestepping what he wanted to say.

“Out with it, Lahey.”

“You’re jealous of Lydia Martin. But I don’t think she’s dating Stiles. Sure, they seem close, but I don’t think they’re dating. I don’t get those vibes.”

“Vibes?” Derek asked incredulously.

“Yes, vibes, Derek. Like those very strong vibes I get from you because you really want to smooch Stiles within an inch of his life. Lydia and Stiles don’t have any perceivable sexual tension between them.”

Derek nodded, thinking about the interactions he had seen between the two adults, before the full meaning of what Isaac had just said dawned on him.

“Wait, no, I don’t…”

“It’s too late, bro. You gave yourself away,” Isaac interrupted, with a satisfied smile. He looked like a proud puppy.

Derek sighed. “Look, Stiles is not interested. And I am not interested in dating. So, it’s all for the best.”

“Derek, Stiles is interested. Why else would he follow your weird mating rituals and come to your office almost every day, or join your weird coffee run every morning at 6:30 am? I think you keep denying yourself the right to be happy, man. And I don’t know why, because while he is the weirdest person at this university, and that’s counting the students, he makes you smile and enjoy yourself in a way I haven’t really seen you do before.” Isaac spoke softly, but every word still felt much too heavy for Derek to really digest.

“He was here because he needed a ride to the faculty dinner, nothing more Isaac.”

“Yeah, but you do know he is friends with the entire Humanities faculty, right? Not just you. I think he’s roommates with Kira Yukimura, from English Literature and Asian Studies. But I’ve also seen him around with Vernon Boyd from Archeology, and Malia Tate from Dramatic Arts. I think they’re all like friends from before they started teaching here. He could ask any of them for a ride, but he made his way here—and to be clear, we are not the closest building to the labs—to ask you for a ride to dinner.”

Derek stared slightly open mouthed at Isaac. “How do you even know all that?”

“Like I said, I hang with the rest of the professors. You should know that too, really, since they’re mostly from your college.”

And Derek knew all of those professors, had shared a conversation with them here and there. But he didn’t know they were friends with Stiles.

“I have to go, I have class. But think about it. I’ll see you for a late lunch after your Shakespeare class?” Isaac asked, while making his way to his desk to pack his already marked exams in his bag, grabbing a few other things from his desk as well. Derek only nodded, before being left alone with his thoughts.

Stiles Stilisnki was friends with all these people?

[sinqueen69]

“Professor Hale,”

“What is it?”

“A male Omega is getting fingered in the hallway,”

Chapter 7 - Graduation - Final - Kinktober 2022 Day 21 - Dirty Talk

Twitter | Ko-Fi | Curious Cat

[spencerreidswhore187]

False Confidence

Don't take yourself so seriously / Look at you all dressed up for someone you never see.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer and Y/N hate each other, they just don't realise they have been anonymously messaging for months.

Word Count: 2.8k

T/W: Mentions of murder and death

A/N: For @sackofpissandshit . I came up for the premise of this as a plate of prawns fell onto my head at work. Enjoy! ◡̈

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SherlockHolmes1887: You were right. 

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face; you replied immediately, the half-drunk coffee in your hand forgotten. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Feel free to say that again.

He did.  

Briefly, you looked up from your phone to cross the road. You were on the way to work having just received a message from Hotch. It sounded urgent. 

NapoleonOfCrime: So what made you realise that, as per usual, I was right? 

You had spent the better part of the night trying to convince him that Sherlock Holmes was in love with Jim Moriarty. You had met him online several months ago, on an Arthur Conan Doyle forum and have been messaging ever since. 

He, except for the one and only Penelope Garcia, was your best friend. You told him everything. Except for who you are. 

Early on in talking you both had agreed not to exchange names, tell each other where you lived or what you did for a career. You knew what SherlockHolmes1887 favourite film was (Star Trek), that he liked wearing mismatched socks and his mum used to call him ‘Crash’ because he would crash into things when he was younger. You knew that, like you, he had four qualifications, liked Sherlock Holmes and had an unhealthy obsession with coffee. You just didn’t know his name. 

Your phone vibrated. 

SherlockHolmes1887: “The greatest schemer of all time, the organiser of every devilry, the controlling brain of the underworld, a brain which might have made or marred the destiny of nations—that's the man! But so aloof is he from general suspicion, so immune from criticism, so admirable in his management and self-effacement, that for those very words that you have uttered he could hale you to a court and emerge with your year's pension as a solatium for his wounded character. [...] Foulmouthed doctor and slandered professor—such would be your respective roles! That's genius, Watson.”

Your phone buzzed again. You silenced it as you walked into the BAU elevator. 

SherlockHolmes1887: I reread ‘The Valley of Fear’ last night. 

You were about to reply when a voice cried out. 

“Hold the door!” 

Instinctively, you stretched your arm out between the closing elevator doors. 

The person entered beside you. 

If you had known who had asked, you would have let the doors shut. 

Dr Spencer Reid leant on his cane, drumming his fingers against its metal top as the elevator moved upwards. He had recently been shot in the leg on a case. You would never tell him but when that gun fired, you thought you were going to be sick. Your heart ached. It made you hate him even more.

“Reid,” you said, staring forward. You refused to look at him.

“L/N,” He replied. 

That was the most words you’d exchanged in days. 

When the doors finally opened again, you both headed towards the round table, where the rest of the team was waiting. 

You and Spencer were the last to arrive. 

It’s not like him to be late, you thought.  

You took a seat between Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan - you were sat as far away from Spencer as possible.

“Now that you are all here,” Hotch began, pulling you from your thoughts, “let’s begin.” 

Penelope connected her computer to the screen; there was a picture of a body. The flesh was rotten, decayed from what was evidently years hidden away. Your eyes are wide as you saw it: a long cut, rough and jagged, stretched from neck to naval. You recognised this signature. 

“The Brooklyn Butcher,” you said, interrupting the silence. 

Hotch nodded. 

It was a case that had occurred six years ago and ended up going cold. 

Spencer recalled, “Eleven women, all under the age of twenty-five, all with red hair, went missing and then their bodies always turned up three days later with a long knife wound across their torso.” 

“The only body,” you continued, “that was never discovered was Sharon Lewis’. The first to go missing. The wife of Mitch Lewis, the prime suspect during the investigation.” 

“Why wasn’t he arrested?” Derek asked. 

Spencer answered before you could, tucking a strand of his brown hair behind his ear. Why did you want to run your hands through his hair? 

“There was no evidence. The police’s only theory was his wife was his first kill and he killed all the other victims who resembled her in an attempt to relive the thrill of the kill.”

“He had an alibi for Sharon Lewis’ disappearance,” you added. 

“Correct - they also never found her body. They couldn’t prove their theory without her body.” 

“Well,” Hotch said, “they have now.” 

“Sharon Lewis, aged twenty-four, was the first victim in the Brooklyn Butcher killings. Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 

JJ leant back in her chair and pressed her pen to her lips, “So the cut was postmortem?”

“According to the coroners.” 

“But that was not the case for the rest of the victims?”

“No,” Hotch replied. 

“Our UNSUB gained confidence in his kills.” 

Lewis was likely his first-ever kill. You wanted to message Sherlock and ask him what he thought. He was intelligent beyond belief, you were sure he would add valuable insight to this case but you couldn’t tell him. Then he would know you worked for the Behavioural Analysis Unit. You couldn’t let him know that. He couldn’t know who you were. What would he think then? When he knew you were more comfortable around dead bodies than real people.

“How was the body discovered?” Spencer asked. 

Hotch had that dark look in his eyes, the one he got when an UNSUB scared him. You hadn’t seen that look in his eyes since Haley died. 

“The body was left on an empty police vehicle parked outside a station in Brooklyn. There was a note attached to it.”

Penelope clicked a button on her laptop and the slide changed to a screwed-up piece of paper nailed to the shoulder of the body. 

Hotch read it aloud, “You have three days before I kill another. Happy hunting, the Butcher.”

He stood up from his seat, “Selene Harker was reported missing twelve hours ago. We leave for New York now - wheels up in twenty. Penelope, you’re coming with us.” 

She smiled nervously, you gave her a discreet thumbs up. 

Everyone stood up from the round table and headed towards the door, you had grabbed the handle when Hotch stopped you.

“L/N, you need to stay here.”

You froze, confused. 

He continued, “Reid has not been cleared to fly by his doctors yet and I need you to go through the old Mitch Lewis interrogation clips, find out whether he told any lies. Stay in touch.” 

With that he left the room, leaving you there with Spencer before you had a second to protest. 

You weren’t really sure how you did it, it’s an ability you’ve had since you were a kid. It’s how you were flagged by the FBI. You could tell when people lied. Everyone has a tell and, like the lie-detecter you are, you knew how to spot it. 

When you and Reid had first met, three years ago, he had told you all the statistics about lies: “Did you know,” he had said, “10% of all lies can be defined as exaggerations, though 60% of all lies are considered to be deceptive.” 

You remembered how you had nodded, anxious as it was your first day. 

“Of all liars, 70% of them claim to be willing to do it again. Every week, Americans tell 11 lies. In a study of 11,366 lies told by 632 people over 91 days, 75% of them lied between 0 or 2 times per day.”

“You know a lot,” You had laughed. 

Reid seemed kind. You liked kind people; you dealt with a lot of horrible people growing up. 

“I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187.” 

That was the first time you and Spencer had ever spoken and it was the last time you ever spoke like friends. 

You spun on your heels to face Spencer. 

“You leave me alone and I’ll leave you be. Understood?” 

“Understood,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. 

“God, you are so infuriating.”

“I hate you,” he retorted. 

You noticed the way his jaw tensed. 

You grinned, “Lie.” 

Spencer groaned and left the room. Through the window, you saw him take a seat at his desk. 

Laughing, you walked into Penelope’s office and pulled up the police footage. 

You were three hours into the Mitch Lewis footage and he had told three lies. 

The first was that he did not know what happened to the other victims. Although, this could mean he had read about the case online. 

The second was more interesting. Lewis said he was at the pub when his wife disappeared. Even though there was security camera footage to confirm this, he was lying, 

The third made your head spin. He said he didn’t kill her. True. He said he didn’t know where she was. Lie. 

You paused the interrogation and contacted Hotch to tell him what you had found. He replied telling you to take a break as they searched for Mitch Lewis. 

In an attempt to distract yourself, you reached for your phone and messaged Sherlock. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Hi.

He replied almost immediately. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Hey.

NapoleonOfCrime: So you read ‘The Valley of Fear’ in one night just to try and prove me wrong? 

SherlockHolmes1887: If that’s how you want to interpret it :) 

NapoleonOfCrime: And?

SherlockHolmes1887: And…they are very much in love. It’s almost blindingly obvious. 

NapoleonOfCrime: “It has been an intellectual treat for me to see the manner in which you have grappled with this case.” The definition of enemies to lovers.

SherlockHolmes1887: Enemies to lovers? 

You don’t think you ever smiled as much as when you did with him. 

NapoleonOfCrime: It’s better you don’t ask, or else I’ll be sending you links to Moriaty x Sherlock fan fiction.

SherlockHolmes1887: What are you doing right now?

Your fingers danced along the tiny keyboard on the phone screen.

NapoleonOfCrime: Work. You? 

SherlockHolmes1887: Work. 

NapoleonOfCrime: How is it? 

It made you nervous that he didn’t reply instantly. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Don’t worry, this isn’t me trying to figure out what you do or who you are. I like the mystery. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Horrible. But it’s not really work that’s the problem. There’s a girl. 

It hurt a little to know there was a girl, of course it did, but you didn’t mind. What you cared about was how he seemed distressed. 

NapoleonOfCrime: If you want to share, I’m a good listener. 

He typed for what seemed like an eternity. 

SherlockHolmes1887: We, her and I, have worked together for years. She’s smart and funny and beautiful. So beautiful. But she hates me. I messed up when we first met, I was so nervous around her that I just ignored her. Whenever she tried to speak to me, I would walk away or just act like she wasn’t there. And, now, I am finally more confident, she can’t even be near me without glaring in my direction at least once. 

You yearned for someone to talk about you that way. No one had ever told you that you were beautiful. You didn’t need someone to tell you because you didn’t believe it, it’s just that sometimes, on the inevitable bad days, you want to feel wanted. 

NapoleonOfCrime: I’m sure if you explain it to her, she will understand - you said she’s smart. I can see why you like her. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Yeah, I fell hard. 

I fell hard. 

You recalled what Hotch had said, “Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 

You recalled how the cut was messy and hesitant whilst the rest were neat. 

 You recalled how it was done postmortem whilst the rest were the cause of death. 

You ran out of Penelope’s office, straight to Dr Spencer Reid. 

“Spence,” you shouted.

You were both alone in the room. 

Spencer looked up from his phone. It was strange, to see him on a phone. You had always thought he was the type of person to hate technology. Instead, he seemed thoroughly invested in whatever was on his screen. 

“Who are you messaging?” You asked, acting causal.

“No one,” he said.

Lie.

“A girl?”

“No.” 

Lie.

Spencer’s face had gone bright red. It was cute; it made you smile. 

Why did it make you smile? 

You decided to change the topic before your face went red. 

“Do you have the coroner’s report?” You questioned. 

He dug through the many files covering his desk and held it up for you to see. 

Blunt force to the frontal lobe, that confirmed your suspicions. 

You stared into Spencer’s brown eyes.

“I know what happened to Sharon Lewis.” 

You explained how it must have happened. Sharon was reported missing by her friend at 19:37. She was supposed to be meeting her a 18:00. Mitch Lewis was at a bar from 17:30-20:01, this was confirmed by camera footage. This means that Lewis can’t have kidnapped his wife. Or, perhaps, she never went missing. She tripped getting ready to see her friend and fell down the staircase. She would have died upon impact.

Spencer nodded in agreement with your theory.

“When Lewis got home and saw his wife’s body sprawled out at the base of the stairs, he saw an opportunity…” 

“He dragged her downstairs to the basement, explaining the deep scratches on her back noted in the coroner’s report.” You said, “Lewis worked in construction, he had a table and tools down there, he said so in one of his interrogations. He placed her on that table and cut her. He butchered her. And then did the same to others to try and recreate the high of killing his wife.” 

“We need to call Hotch.” 

Four hours later and Mitch Lewis had confessed and was in police custody.

Derek and Emily had found Selene Harker chained to the very same table Lewis had carved his wife like a cold slab of meat. 

The team was on their way back from Quantico.

You found Spencer sitting on a bench outside the FBI building. Spinning the silver ring your grandmother gave you around your index finger, you sat down next to him. 

You both stared forward, at the road. 

You were glad that you weren’t the only one who was affected by cases like this. You were glad that you weren’t the only one overwhelmed by empathy. Your mother once told you that empathy without boundaries was self-destruction but you were just glad that after so much time in this field, you still felt something. 

Spencer eventually broke the silence. 

“It scares me, Y/N, how easy a life can end.” 

Spencer clutched his cane so tightly that his knuckles went white. 

Gently, you eased one of his hands off it and held it in yours. 

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears. It was deafening. 

“You know, when I was a kid, I was always tripping over things. I walked into doors, tables, you name it. My mum would call me ‘Crash.’”

He laughed dryly whilst your world began to crumble around you. 

You dropped Spencer’s hand. 

“Sh-she called you what?” 

Spencer turned to look at you, confusion and worry were etched across his face, “Y/N? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

It’s not that you were upset, in fact, you felt almost the opposite of that. 

Your voice was steadier than you expected when you spoke.

“He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson.”

“Y/N?”

“He is the organiser of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city.”

“It can’t be.” 

Spencer held his face in his hands. 

“Disappointed, Sherlock Holmes 1887?”

You said it mockingly but you were terrified of what Spencer would say. 

“No, Napoleon of Crime. Not even a little bit.”

True.

“You told me to explain how I felt to that girl so here goes. The first thing I noticed about you was your smile. I saw it from the other side of the room. And, Y/N, it was contagious. Just looking at you made me smile. You are so beautiful and so intelligent and I have wanted to tell you how desperately I liked you since the day we met.” 

He cradled your cheek with one hand. 

“And now I know that this whole time, as well as being the person I can see myself falling in love with, you are my best friend, my favourite, my person.” 

“I hate you, Spence,” you say just before you kiss him. 

Smiling against your lips, you hear him whisper, “Lie.” 

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi!!

Could you find Sterek fics where Derek is multilingual or know Polish language?

Hola Anon! Si, tengo mucho.

Five Times Derek Failed To Tell Stiles How He Feels (+1 Time Stiles Knew Anyway) by WhoNatural

(1/1 I 3,338 I Teen)

Stiles grins, impish and proud, and scrabbles at another piece of his notebook. Derek is determined to ignore it - he really is, but Stiles’ legs are longer than they might seem and his reach includes the front leg of Derek’s chair.

He sighs, put-upon, and unfolds the note,

Wanna go steady w/ me? Y[ ] or Y[ ]

you know you're on my mind by bibliosexual

(9/9 I 16,371 I Teen)

If there’s one thing Derek’s learned in life, it’s that crushing on someone who lives on an entire other fucking continent is probably a bad idea.

I'm a War of Head Versus Heart by NieR

(5/5 I 23,091 I Explicit)

Being FWB with Derek Hale is great. Awesome, even.

But somehow, somewhere along the way, Stiles thinks he might have fallen in love.

And, well, shit.

Two Minutes for Holding by captaintinymite (augopher)

(18/18 I 121,498 I Explicit)

There were three things college hockey players Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski knew for certain. 1) Their lives revolved around hockey, 2) They were madly in love, and 3) Derek was so far in the closet he might never find his way out.

They'd been together for two years now, and for two years they'd been a secret with only a few people knowing about them. Yet Derek's fear kept them from moving forward: fear of his family's rejection, fear of his sexuality tanking his father's career, fear of the rampant homophobia in professional sports. The ruse was growing thin.

Something had to give.

Or: The story of how one epic NCAA Championship run and college, served as the backdrop for some of life's great hardships.

AND

@barleymowetc suggested this fic.

Put Down in Words by paintedrecs

(31/31 I 203,706 I Mature I Sterek)

“Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”

“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.

“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.

*

When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard.

Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.

[rabidaly]

Ok one more update from a shark in the water? Please???

Here’s the first 1k(roughly)! Keep in mind I haven’t edited and I had like. A three-month long writers block for this fic so I’m not super attached/happy with this intro— it may change when I go back next weekend!

Hopefully it’s enough to wet your appetite tho ;)

—

Stiles had friends.

Lydia was his friend. Erica. Danny and Kira danced the line between acquaintance and actual friendship, but gun to his head, Stiles would count them as the latter. And Scott. God knows they'd been inseperable for over a decade.

It's just—

Stiles didn’t text his friends the way he texted Derek.

Or as often.

It wasn’t anything serious. Just lots of little, trivial things: pictures here and there, Stiles blinking doe eyes at the camera, biting his lip. He texted Derek about his annoying professor, the chronological order of the Marvel movies, his attempts at latte foam art. Stiles rambled and vented and altogether talked too much, but—

Derek always answered.

Even if it was a simple, one-word reply. Even if sometimes it took a couple hours. Stiles wasn’t sure he’d have been able to stop even if he didn’t; every little thing that popped into his head came with the companion thought of, oh! I wonder what Derek would think about this!

ive never seen you play a video game, he texted on Thursday evening.

I don’t. What are you playing?

COD

with scott

R u home?

At the gym.

Stiles had figured as much, but he still caught himself sighing. They were in the Hale-McCall living room, playing on Scott’s family Xbox, both sore and tired from their shifts at work. From his spot on the couch, Stiles could hear Peter humming in the kitchen, most likely prepping for dinner. Melissa was still at work.

And Derek was at the gym. Snooze.

how much can u lift? Stiles texted, before his character on screen ran into a wall and he had to put his phone down. Scott side-eyed him, hard.

Stiles caught the tail-end of Scott taking incoming fire before his phone buzzed again. He looked back down.

I can lift double your weight, easy, Derek had typed, cutting to the heart of the matter.

Stiles pinkened.

for how long?

For as long as it takes. Derek replied. it’s your endurance we need to work on, if anything.

Stiles could taste the sharp edge of Derek’s condescension on his tongue. Something inside him went molten-hot, liquified, like the liquid wax of a burning candle.

maybe you should take me to the gym with you, he typed, squirming at just the thought of it. Derek all sweaty, the graceful arch of spine, muscles flexing as he lifts himself. we could be workout buddies.

Would you wear leggings?

Stiles readjusted on the couch, his leg coming up against his chest.

in public? no.

but I could sit on you.

on your back. while you do push ups

A bit too daring. Stiles bit his lip when Derek didn’t respond. He focused back on the game, hoping to distract himself.

It didn’t help much.

Scott huffed, throwing down his remote when they both died.

“What is with you, man?”

“What do you mean?” Stiles said, peeking at his phone again. No new messages.

“I mean, you’re not even watching where you’re going. You just got us both killed!”

”I’m just—“ Stiles felt unreasonably grumpy. “Bored. Can’t we play something else?”

“Like what?”

Like Mario Kart, per Stiles’ suggestion. The best part about Mario Kart was that Scott was—

“Awful, man. Just terrible,” Stiles laughed as Scott swerved off the road, twisting his remote uselessly, as if that were going to do anything while he wasn’t holding down the gas. “Honestly, it’s embarrassing to watch. You should just stop. You’re bringing shame to your family name.”

“I used to beat you at every game!”

“Yeah, in like seventh grade.” Stiles shook his head. “How’s it feel, Scott? To have peaked in middle school?”

“I haven’t peaked, I’m just—“ Scott threw down the controller as the track completed, screen flashing the stats. Scott in tenth place, Stiles in first. Just like the last time. And the time before that. “Out of practice. God, screw this. I want to play Skyrim.”

“Skyrim is god-awful on the Switch.”

“Well, then, I’ll bring the PS4 down here.”

“But it’s single player,” Stiles scrunched up his nose. “I’m not going to just sit here like your girlfriend and pretend watching you play video games is interesting.”

Scott looked offended. “Allison isn’t pretending. She said she loves watching me play.”

Right.

“Sure she does.” Stiles rolled his eyes. "We can just put on a horror movie or something, play fuck, marry, kill." A weird little tradition of theirs, any time they break out the b-rate horror films.

"Which one do you wanna watch?"

Stiles shrugged, "You pick."

He checked his phone again. Sighed for the millionth time.

Scott noticed.

“Who are you texting?”

Fuck.

”No one important,” Stiles said quickly, and put his phone face down on the side table.

Scott stared at it. “Is that a new phone?”

”What? No.”

”It’s pink," Scott pointed out. "Your phone's not pink.”

Stiles really needed to get a case for the thing. “Okay,” he conceded. “It’s a new phone. I splurged.”

The reaction was immediate.

”Stiles! We’re supposed to be saving up for an apartment!” Scott shook his head. “You’ve got to stop spending money, dude.”

Scott was definitely right about that. Stiles might not have bought the phone, but he'd hardly saved a dime since he’d started his job. He’d been too busy buying— well. You know.

As if summoned by the thought of his underwear alone, Stiles' phone (finally, finally) buzzed. Stiles had moved before his brain had fully processed the sound, snatching his phone up from the table on reflex.

Stay put. I’ll be there in 10.

Stiles’ cheeks darkened to a fire-engine red. Uh-oh.

[outtoshatter]

today we are spotlighting the wonderful @elisela! She has so many lovely fics to choose from!

Bite Sized:

workday mornings | G | 631 tags: domestic fluff, alternate universe Summary: “Then we have the thing at six,” Stiles calls out, setting his coffee cup on the island before hastily removing it and wiping the ring of coffee it had left behind before it sinks into the marble and causes a permanent stain. He glares down at his damp hand, sets the cup on a dish towel he probably should have hung up the night before, and crosses to the sink.

half of my soul (as the poets say) | G | 920 tags: alternate universe, long distance, fluff Summary: He yanks the pillow next to his over his face and gropes for his phone on the nightstand. “Siri, call Derek,” he directs, voice scratchy. Calling is such a familiar motion that he could probably navigate the screen without looking at it, but the last thing he wants is to mess up and be forced to talk to someone else at 4:36 in the morning.

thirty-six | G | 541 tags: alternate universe, established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort Summary: "Do you know how it feels to have someone change their whole life just to make you happy?” Derek asks. Stiles takes a cautious step into the room, plate of sandwiches in hand, but his husband doesn’t even look at him. His eyes are fixed on the opposite wall, staring at the mural so new that Stiles swears he can still smell the paint.

follow through | M | 606 tags: college, professor Derek, coach Stiles, established relationship Summary: The force with which Stiles slams the paper down on the desk causes a coffee cup to rattle on its coaster, and he takes a moment to despair that he’s in love with an idiot who insists on using coasters despite the desk being treated like garbage by every professor who had used it for the past thirty years.

Not right now, though. Right now, he’s decidedly not in love, and most definitely pissed.

hold you through | G | 956 tags: emotional hurt/comfort Summary: Derek’s fallen asleep again.

Over 1k:

Almost nothing | E | 2k tags: porn without plot, smut Summary: Sometimes it takes almost nothing—

—Derek’s hand will close around his hip, Stiles will kiss him and fist a hand in the back of his hair, tugging until Derek’s head is tilted up and he can bite down in the junction of his shoulder.

—Stiles will crowd up against Derek while he’s doing dishes, or folding clothes, slinging an arm around his waist and playing with the button on his jeans, and Derek will reach behind him and pull him closer.

wild about you | G | 1k tags: human AU, meet cute, sports Summary: Derek scowls at her even as he accepts the corner of the poster, gingerly, even though he knows he’ll be covered in pink glitter within two minutes. The edges are tattered from being crushed in too many hands, crepe paper flowers smashed against the glass in front of him often enough that they’re pressed flat. Everything about it screams it was made by Allison’s kindergarten class, except for the careful bubble letters perfectly centered: Marry me, Stiles Stilinski.

West coast swing | G | 1k tags: alternate universe-sports, developing relationship, fluff Summary: Somewhere in the air over Colorado, Derek gets cold feet.

here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed | T | 7k tags: canon compliant, post-movie, fix-it Summary: Stiles doesn’t go home right away.

The urge is there—when he answers the phone to Lydia’s shaking voice, when he gets the text from his dad, when he stares out at the sun glowing soft peach and golden over the buildings in D.C. and he thinks about Derek never seeing another sunrise. It’s there weeks later when he gets a check from the Estate of Derek Hale, when he crumples it up and throws it in the trash, when he fishes it out an hour later and tries to salvage it by weighing it down with a book from the Hale vault.

It’s there, it’s there, it’s there.

Stiles doesn’t listen to it.

Because Stiles isn’t going back to Beacon Hills to say goodbye.

mountain man | G | 1k tags: bookstore, getting together, fluff Summary: “Mountain man is here,” Scott whispers in his ear, hands gripping Stiles’ shoulders as he carefully moves behind him in the narrow space. “Biographies.”

Bonus- Over 10k!:

you can wear my sweater (if I can have your heart) | T | 12k tags: sports, hockey player Derek, soccer player Stiles, alive Hales, fluff Summary: “It’s fine,” Stiles says, but he stops at the bottom of the porch when Derek closes a hand around his elbow. His scent is evening out, mellowing from humiliation to embarrassment, and his heart skips a few beats when Derek touches him. “Really, I misread everything. Jordan said—” he stops, again, and Derek has to stop himself from asking because what Jordan said isn’t the most pressing issue.

“I thought you were joking,” he says, keeping Stiles’ arm still even as he starts to pull away. “Whatever Jordan said, he didn’t tell me. You’ve been teasing me for weeks, I didn’t think this was any different.”

Stiles turns to face him, and this time when he pulls his arm back, Derek lets go. “I’ve been asking you out for weeks,” he says, a thin trace of amusement through the resignation in his voice. “It’s fine, dude, just a misunderstanding. I’ll stop.”

Go check out elisela's AO3 page, where she has even more terrific fics to choose from! Remember to mind the tags, leave a kudos, and maybe drop a comment!

[winchquinn]

Hi everyone! I took a break from taking on new roleplay partners, but now I’m open to taking on a few more!

I will give you:

An incredibly patient 30-year-old partner who likes to plot and chat

Plots that are a mix of romance/humor/angst/drama

Any balance of plot to nsfw that you want

Discord-based roleplays (add me there as winchquinn)

Please give me:

A partner who is 18+ and also likes to contribute to the plot & actually reads my pairings & AU ideas (though please feel free to suggest your own!!)

Characters that are over 18+

Lazy-lit posts (I used to go for novellas but I am craving 1-3 paragraph posts, more for intros)

Canon characters

What I’m craving more than anything is taking canon characters and shoving them into AUs, whether other fandoms or just other AU settings.

Pairings/Fandoms

My preferred character in italics. If neither is italicized, I’ll play either!

The Kingsman

• Eggsy Unwin / Harry Hart

Marvel

• Peter Parker / Tony Stark

• Peter Parker / Bucky Barnes

• Peter Parker / Wade Wilson

• Eddie Brock / Venom

• Tony Stark / Stephen Strange

• Loki / Thor

• Loki / Mobius

Sherlock (BBC)

• John Watson / Sherlock

Supernatural

• Dean Winchester / Castiel

• Dean Winchester / Sam Winchester

• Gabriel / Sam Winchester

• Dean Winchester / Castiel / Sam Winchester / Gabriel

Teen Wolf

• Stiles Stilinski / Derek Hale

What We Do in the Shadows

• Guillermo De La Cruz / Nandor the Relentless

AU Settings

• The Hunger Games

• The Last of Us

• Harry Potter (where Hogwarts is university-age or they’re professors)

• Place them in one of the fandoms above

• Crime boss / undercover cop

• College roommates

• Creature / hunter

• Escort / client

• Famous / body guard

Word Bank

• Misunderstandings

• Jealousy/Possessiveness

• Enemies/rivals to lovers

• Unhealthy codependencies

• Near death experiences

• Sneaking around

[ambear9]

fic stats meme

tagged by no one

rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.

the most hits

Can I Borrow and Egg? (44,175 words) E

“Can I help you?” Derek really didn’t want to open the door, but the smell of the person on the other side was intriguing and he needed to know who it belonged to. “Um sorry to bother you, but um do have an egg I can borrow” The guy was wearing fuzzy batman pajama pants and a red zip-up sweater zipped only halfway with no shirt underneath like he just threw it on to walk over here. “Borrow?” Derek raised an eyebrow “Do you plan to return it?” he was trying really hard not to look at the small patch of chest hair that he desperately wanted to touch. “Well no, I plan on buying more eggs when I get my Jeep working again then I’ll return an egg to you, not the exact one” “Derek give the poor kid an egg” Laura yelled from inside the house “I’m an adult” The guy called back “Not a kid”

second most kudos

Passing Notes (7,577 words) E

“And Stiles, as for the paper due next week, I don’t need to know about circumcision” “Got it” Stiles was going to have to drop that class now, even though, yes he did take it because he was bored and needed another credit and Professor Hale was one of the best-looking people he has ever seen, especially when he was wearing his black-rimmed glasses, and the way his long sleeves shirts were cuffed right below his elbow, “Enough of that” Stiles mumbled to himself after running into a plastic trash bin and almost falling over.

third most comments

"I didn’t know it was possible to fall in love with someone without even seeing their face" (33,755 words) E

Stiles didn’t like answering unknown numbers but he was bored and hoping to mess with a scammer. Turns out it was a wrong number, but he felt bad for the guy so we helped him with his computer. He thought that was the end of it, but it turned into one of the best years of his life.

fourth most bookmarks

Coffee & Camo (17,219 words) E

Stiles owns a coffee shop and has a crush on his regular customer. but then the customer stops coming in and Stiles has no idea what happened until he gets a letter in the mail from Sergeant Derek Hale.

fifth most words

Trying to See Through the Rain Coming Down (32,376 words) E

“I need to file a missing person report” “Okay” Stiles didn’t look up from his book, just grabbed one of the papers off the shelf behind him and handed to the man “Fill this out and I’ll get an officer to come out and talk to you” “You’re not even going to look up? My sister is missing and you’re just going to keep reading your stupid book” he yanked the book out of Stiles’ hand and threw it across the precinct almost hitting the Sheriff who had come out of his office to see what the yelling was about. “Sorry” Stiles stood up “It’s just that” “Can I help you?” His dad asked trying to diffuse the situation before Stiles was the next thing thrown across the room “I’m in town visiting my sister and she went to the grocery store Friday afternoon and never came back, she isn’t answering her phone and I can’t find her anywhere” Or the one where Laura dies and Derek is left to take care of her twins with the help of an officer and a newly bitten werewolf.

fic with the least words

Donuts (1,552 words) E

Stiles got an idea while out getting his morning coffee.

tagging: @theinternetisfulloftrash, @just-another-busy-fangirl @7thleveldown, @evanesdust, @phantomlove908, @theboboshow @teacupghost5

and anyone who wants to share

[schrijverr]

Signing Up For Some Gay-Shit

Janie has professor Hale, who won’t shut up about his husband. She herself is trying to find the nerve to ask out Amishi, who is friends with a clumsy student named Stiles. Somehow, those overlap.

On AO3.

Ships: Sterek and lesbian OCs

Warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Professor Hale is one of the most popular teachers on campus. He is smart, friendly, serious and incredibly handsome. His classes are continuously full with people, who signed on for his looks and are passing due to his teaching.

However, Professor Hale is most famous for getting distracted from his own study program – which he sticks to religiously – when asked about his husband.

Janie signed up after recommendation of her brother, who told her Professor Hale is a good teacher ‘despite the gay-shit.’ Seeing that Janie is also a bit of gay-shit herself, something her brother doesn’t know, she signed up immediately. Getting hope for the future as a queer person as well as a good lecturer, hell yeah.

But she hadn’t expected it to be quite so much.

The words ‘my husband’ have been spoken so many times, not even three weeks into the semester, that she can still hear them when she goes to bed. She also knows so much about this mystery man that she almost starts to question if she’s straight with how convincing Professor Hale is about his strong points.

She still learns so much about mythic history, but every lecture is peppered with comments like: “My husband and I once went to an Aztec temple. It was quite the adventure, if you want to call it that, perhaps nightmare is more apt,” or, “Don’t get my husband started on folklore based mythologies.”

Professor Hale never mentions his husband’s name, but outside of that, everything seems to be fair game to tell the class about.

Many people there have noted about how cute it is among each other and most study sessions Janie has attended are more gossip gatherings to try and piece together what sort of person this infamous husband is.

The current main theories are that he is 1) incredibly smart and probably sophisticated, another professor maybe one in history or religions as well, one that is more private. 2) a charismatic and smart – because the amounts of times professor Hale has called his husband smart is too many – actor or famous person, which is why they keep it on the down-low.

Janie thinks it’s ridiculous to theorize about their professor’s relationship, but it’s better than hearing the poetry about his eyes. She gets it on an aesthetic level, but sometimes she’s more concerned about her classmates, honestly.

Today they’re in the middle of the lecture when a phone starts to ring. All immediately look around, because everyone knows that professor Hale does not allow phones in class, only to whip their head around in surprise when they hear professor Hale pick up with: “What’s happening? Are you all okay?”

“Yes, of course I’m opening with that, you fucking dumbass,” professor Hale hisses into the phone as a reply to whoever just called. “You never call during my lectures, of course I’m going to think something is wrong.”

A beat, then an eyeroll. “Yes, I am in a lecture. So, fill me in.”

“No, you’re not hanging up after you called me just because I’m in a lecture. You’re explaining right now. Or I’m leaving them here and coming to you. Don’t think I won’t be able to find you if I need to.”

After a moment, professor Hale leans against his desk with a smug: “Good,” as he settles in to listen.

Janie’s eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. That’s not exactly a conversation she has ever had with anyone. She has never picked up the phone expecting the other person to be hurt or in trouble and a new spark of curiosity goes through her as she watches her professor.

As the person on the other side talks professor Hale’s face goes through a slew of emotions. The smug expression melts away for concern, before he frowns in confusion, finally ending on an exasperated yet fond look.

When he finally hangs up, it’s with a soft: “Good to hear, I’m glad. See you tonight. Love you.”

Those words cause a ripple of noise to go through the students assembled in the lecture hall as they all suddenly realize that the person who had called was professor Hale’s husband himself.

Professor Hale looks up at all of them at that point, like he had forgotten about the hall of 200 students, who have been watching his every move since the start of the semester in hopes of gathering the credit they need.

“Is everything alright, professor Hale?” Amishi asks, breaking through the chatter with the genuine kindness and concern Janie loves about her. Not that she has ever scrounged up the courage to talk to her yet.

It seems professor Hale also knows she is a good person, because he smiles kindly at her and assures them all: “Everything is fine. Apologies for that. My husband and friends have a habit of getting themselves in trouble, but no need to bail them out today.”

The last part is said like he’s joking, but there is still a small pause, before people laugh. He is a bit too casual about it and Janie can feel old theories being discarded and new ones being cooked up all around her.

Picking up on the vibe shifting in the room, professor Hales clears his throat, before moving on with his lecture.

That week, Janie gets into study group with Amishi. Nervously she sits besides the other girl, tucking her hair behind her ear as she softly says: “Hi, uhm, Janie. We share mythic history, I, uh, I could use some help with the whole folklore bit and you always seem to take good notes.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” she shuffles to the side to make room for Janie. “Come sit. I’m Amishi.”

“Nice to meet you,” Janie says, as if she hasn’t long since gotten the name and major from a friend before now. “I do history, so this course is adding to cultural understanding and stuff. Why are you taking it?”

“I do criminology,” she smiles. “I might want to go into behavior or cult murders. This is for me to get a bit of a background on everything.”

“That’s so cool,” Janie gushes a bit, happy to see Amishi duck her head slightly, pleased grin on her face.

Then they delve into the coursework, Janie mentally fistpumping at the easy camaraderie with the other girl. After a while they’re properly distracted from the work again, talking about their own courses and gossip going around.

“I think professor Hale’s husband must be law, or secret service or something,” Amishi declares. “I mean, why else would he pick up like that. Or be available in his own classes – which he hates – unless he doesn’t want to miss a call from his lover, near peril each day.”

Janie snorts: “That’s a bit dramatic, but I suppose. However, professor Hale always says how clumsy he is, don’t think that’s good in combat.”

“True,” Amishi gives in, before saying, “God, I have the clumsiest guy in my courses, it’s hilarious. First day he tripped over his own feet and spilled his coffee all over himself, then moments later he spat his water everywhere.”

“Quite a feat,” Janie giggles.

“Yeah,” Amishi agrees, encouraged by her reaction. “Last week he was late and full on sprinted against the closed door, while the other was open. He still has a bruise on his jaw, poor kid. But I wouldn’t trust Stiles with a gun, not for a second.”

“What kind of name is Stiles?” Janie can’t help, but ask.

“I don’t know, but he chose it himself,” Amishi shrugs. “Apparently he has a Polish name, knew he was being called on when the professor started to hesitate, I can relate to that.”

“Yeah…” Janie nods. “Does he at least have style to go with the name?”

“No, not at all,” Amishi laughs and they’re off talking again.

The next lecture of professor Hale Janie sits next to Amishi, trying to ignore the fact that the professor had quirked his brow at her, before giving her a knowing look. Her blush in response has probably given her away, but Amishi didn’t notice, so the slow wooing plan is still in motion.

Though wooing plans have to be put on hold for professor Hale’s lecture. Janie likes his lectures, so she takes her notes, even if they’re not color coded and neat like Amishi’s.

It’s nice, kind of peaceful.

A few lectures later that changes. Professor Hale is late and he is never later. So when they’re all seated and he’s not there, murmurs start to go through the crowd. Someone is just yelling that they’re allowed to leave after fifteen minutes when professor Hale bursts through the door, suspiciously not out of breath for someone who has obviously been running.

“I’m sorry guys,” professor Hale says as he starts setting up. “There was a bit of a hiccup this morning.”

He looks suitably disheveled. His hair is not in its perfect shape, mused on one side, which he is trying to tame as he taps on his laptop to set up his powerpoint. However, something else catches Janie’s attention and before she’s aware she has exclaimed: “Is that blood on your shirt?”

Professor Hale looks a bit startled at her words, but she is more focused on the dark splotches on the gray shirt. Why the hell is he late?!? Secret service is suddenly not so crazy.

“Oh, uhm,” professor Hale looks at his shirt, before looking a bit sheepish and apologetic as he says: “Sorry for that, my husband tripped this morning, had a horrible nosebleed.” No one sees how he nearly laughs at that, a memory of cousin Miguel coming to the surface. “It’s why I’m late.”

“Is he alright?” Amishi asks.

“He’s fine, thank god,” professor Hale answers, genuinely. “His clumsiness makes more appearances than I’d like, honestly. I worry when he’s not in sight. Always seems to get himself in trouble. All his brainpower goes into his smarts, not his movement.” Okay, maybe not secret service.

That earns the professor some coos, from those who find his worried protectiveness adorable, before he manages to start his lecture. He gets them back on track pretty well, despite the jerky start.

Once the lecture is done, Janie packs up, walking out with Amishi discussing when to hang out to compare notes, something Janie hopes to turn into a date one of these days. But before she can scrounge up the courage, they’re nearly bowled over by a loud blur.

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry, I did not see you there. Like, I was going and suddenly you were there, which is not an excuse, so sorry. Truly, sorry- Oh, hey Amishi,” the blur rambles as Janie blinks until a lanky young man comes into view.

“Hey Stiles,” Amishi sighs fondly as she allows the other to help her up.

Then Amishi helps Janie up as she reconciles the young man in front of her with the klutz from her courses Amishi told her about. She can definitely see the clumsy and the lack of fashion with the horridly clashing flannel and shirt combo he’s wearing.

“Hey, again, I’m so sorry,” Stiles says, wincing. He has a bruise on his face and a cut on his hand, which he probably got in another incident like this.

“It’s alright,” Janie smiles awkwardly at him. “We’re fine.”

“Thank god, won’t be a good look, going around mowing down my fellow students,” Stiles grins. “I’m Stiles Stilinski by the way.”

“Janie, Janie Paulson,” Janie replies, shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Stiles grins. “Amishi told me about you. Said you were chill.”

“She did?” Janie can’t help but ask.

Amishi elbows Stiles, who swiftly changes topics before Janie can pry further. “You’re talking the mythic history course? That’s awesome! I wanted to take it too, but my friends convinced me it was a bad idea.”

“Why would it be a bad idea?” Amishi asks

“Oh, I have an overactive imagination,” Stiles tells them brightly. “I would probably start seeing that stuff everywhere once I get into it.”

None of them hear professor Hale snort in the empty classroom behind them. While Amishi deadpans: “You literally look at crime scene photos all day.”

“It’s different,” Stiles shrugs. “Anyway, I was on my way before I so graciously bowled you two lovely ladies over, so I’m going to leave you two to it. It was nice meeting you, Janie!”

“Yeah, you too,” Janie manages to call after him, before he disappears with more movement and some curses. She turns to Amishi and raises a brow.

Amishi says: “Well, that was Stiles.”

“Interesting character. Seems nice,” Janie grins.

“He is when he’s not being a fucking idiot,” Amishi tells her. “Come on, lets do coffee and discuss all of this, because I’m never keeping these names straight.”

“Hell yeah,” Janie follows after her, because this sounds close to a coffee date and with Stiles’ words, she might actually have a chance.

They get their coffee at the local coffee shop that they both love. It has these dark green walls and plants everywhere, giving it the perfect study vibes. Janie treats herself to a brownie, while Amishi decides to get a cookie.

At first they actually focus on their work, but Amishi is better with the names than she led Janie to believe and it’s fresh enough on their mind that revising isn’t really useful. Neither of them comments on that, however, instead letting their conversation drift along.

“How did you hear about professor Hale’s class?” Amishi asks, conversationally.

“Oh, my brother said he as good despite the gay-shit and seeing that I am gay-shit myself, I decided I had to check it out,” Janie shrugs, casually, while scanning Amishi’s face at the fact that she weaved that into conversation.

Amishi has never shown distaste surrounding professor Hale being married to a man, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. So when she says: “You’re gay?” in a surprised voice, Janie takes the plunge and hopes that’s a good reaction as she nods: “Yeah, bigass lesbian, that’s me.”

“Thank god!” Amishi says. “Sorry, that’s a weird reaction. I’m bi, but haven’t met many other queer students that I’ve clicked with, except Stiles. But Stiles has this whole intimidating friend group, so that never went anywhere.”

Okay, score! She has a chance. Janie grins and salutes: “Happy to be of service.”

“You’re an idiot,” Amishi tells her, pushing her over, though she is smiling and that’s enough for Janie, who stares at her for a moment. Amishi becomes a bit shy as she asks: “What?”

“Oh, uhm,” Janie realizes she has been staring. “You have something on your cheek. Wait, I got it,” she reaches out and softly wipes it away, never really breaking eye contact.

“Thanks,” Amishi says softly, looking down at her notes. She clears her throat: “So, names.”

They return to the work and Janie tries to decide if that was a moment, or just a friend thing as she steals glances at Amishi’s beautiful, dark and concentrated eyes.

She hasn’t figured it out when the next lecture rolls around and hasn’t had the chance to talk with Amishi again that week. A bit unsure, she slides into the seat next to her, relieved when she smiles at her.

Professor Hale then starts his lecture, however at some point he stops and says: “Do you guys mind if I eat real quick? I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning and my husband will skin me if I didn’t eat the food he packed me.”

That earns him some chuckles as everyone assures him it’s fine.

He then pulls out an honest to god paper bag, like they’re in some sort of movie. Pulling out the food, causes a pink paper to flutter to the ground. When he picks it up, Janie can clearly see it’s heart-shaped and whatever it says, makes professor Hale flush bright red in a way that Janie hadn’t known he could do.

“What do you think it says?” she whispers to Amishi.

“Probably how he can’t wait to be eaten like that sandwich,” Amishi jokes softly as professor Hale chokes on his food. Amishi comments: “I’m glad my skin doesn’t show blushing like that, damn.”

Janie inspects her own pale arms and grimaces, muttering: “Lucky.”

“Ahw, come on, can’t be that bad,” Amishi says. “Now your freckles show. It’s cute.”

And there goes Janie, flushing like an idiot as she says in a strangled voice: “Shut up.” Proceeding to nearly die as Amishi giggles at her.

In that time, professor Hale has quickly wolfed down his food and is resuming his lecture, the tips of his ears still red.

No one there can ever know the note read: I’m always safe with you, sourwolf, but you can’t protect me without proper nutrients. Let me take care of you like you care for me. I love you, Der-bear! ~Your lovely husband, if I do say so myself ;p

It’s so simple and so Stiles and Derek just loves him so much that he couldn’t help, but blushing at his sweet words. The words of his students, however, did not help, so now he is still teaching, slightly mortified over how soft words did more to him than anything explicit ever could.

Janie meanwhile, can’t meet Amishi’s eyes, taking her notes with a blush still painting her cheeks. It felt like a moment there and Amishi’s voice. God, her voice. No, focus! But her lips…

Yeah, it isn’t the most productive class for her.

Afterwards, she has calmed her fluttering heart enough to talk again and is chatting with Amishi, who says: “I’m going to a study group with a few people from criminology this Thursday. We have one hell class that only Stiles seems to get, but it’s mostly fun. It’s at Stacy’s Diner, you should come too.”

“Sure, sounds fun,” Janie says, then spots her brother yelling her name. She rolls her eyes and nods at them. “Sorry, an idiot is calling. I’ll see you there?”

“Alright! It starts at five,” Amishi tells her, before Janie takes off.

She eats lunch with her brother, mentally planning an outfit for a fucking study group of all things as she tries to convince herself that she should just make a move.

Thursday rolls around and Janie has put on her gayest nice outfit she can find. She doesn’t know if she’s more nervous about the people she doesn’t know, or about being around Amishi in this new context.

About the new people, she shouldn’t have worried, because when she arrives, the guy she recognizes as Stiles calls out: “Janie, hi! Sorry about running you over that one time. Promise I won’t do that again.”

To which another jeers: “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Stilinski.” Before turning to Janie and saying: “He has unintentionally hit everyone here at least once. Welcome to the club. I’m Cillian.”

“Janie,” she introduces herself as the others do the same.

Amishi is luckily there to pull her next to herself, before forcing her to order the strawberry milkshake, since it is the best every, apparently. Janie isn’t complaining, especially when she steals a sip, a bit of her lipstick remaining on the straw.

They’re working on police procedure in their courses right now and all have become constricted in the administration. Except Stiles, who proudly says: “My dad is the sheriff back home. Police procedure is my bitch.”

He gets a lot of eyerolls, but no one counters him and Janie gets a look at the smart side that Amishi told her about as he coaches everyone through the different forms. He is still animated, arms flying around as he talks, but he reworks his rambling way of talking to clear instructions.

Janie doesn’t get much of her own work done, but she doesn’t mind. She’s pretty up to date on her work and it’s much more fun to participate with the others, being even more clueless than them.

The group has just decided to take a break to eat some food, when a phone rings. Stiles is in the middle pushing a bunch of curly fries into his mouth as he dives for the phone, picking up: “Hey, sourwolf.”

He quickly chews to reply: “Yes, I’m eating let me live. I have that study group, remember? I was going to be nice and bestow my knowledge on the masses.”

That earns him some protests, which he ignores in favor of listening to whoever is on the line.

Janie sends Amishi a curious look, who explains: “His boyfriend. Won’t tell us much about him, which is highly frustrating, but he’s pretty whipped.”

She nods in reply, just as Stiles bemusedly exclaims: “Oh my god, are you for real! You need to learn to say no to Scott’s puppy dog eyes, this is ridiculous.” A beat. “Yes, you can hand the phone to him.”

There is a wait as the phone gets handed to this Scott person before Stiles says: “Scott, buddy, my man, my hombre. I know you want all the candy and shit for movie night, but you’re all going to get sick if you eat that much. Just listen to me and Derek.”

“No, I don’t care that you’re Mr. Leader-man,” Stiles sighs fondly at whatever is said. “Teeth are still dead matter, that isn’t just going to heal like that. And all of you hate the dentist, so do us all a favor and get a normal amount of snacks. Alright, dumbass?”

It appears that Scott gives in, because soon Stiles is grinning: “Good, now hand me back to my beloved Der-bear. I need my grumpy fix, before I get back to my courses.”

When he talks again, his voice is obviously different than when talking to Scott. It can only be described as filled with love, as he says: “Hi! Take care of them all, you hear me. And have fun, those grumpy eyebrows deserve a break every once in a while.”

He chuckles at whatever Derek says. Then smugly goes: “I am a delight and you love me.”

“Of course I love you too,” he smiles, practically melting as he says it. “I’ll see you tonight. And I expect cuddles. Bye, bye!”

After that it’s over.

Stiles looks back at all of them, seemingly not caring at all about the fact that they’re blatantly eavesdropping. “Sorry about that.” He doesn’t sound sorry in the slightest.

“So, how’s the boyfriend,” Cillain asks, leaning in like they’re gossiping.

Without blinking Stiles pushes his face away as he informs them: “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“I honestly don’t know why you keep saying that,” Amishi says. “You live together and share everything. How are you not dating? Can you hear yourself when you talk to him? Are you that oblivious?”

He raises a brow and says: “I’m not the oblivious one between us.” Somehow, making Janie feel like she’s being addressed.

“Whatever you say,” Amishi shrugs.

“Come on, man. You can’t keep doing the mysterious thing forever,” Cillian begs, before they can move on from the topic. “Why are you so set on being secretive about it when you obviously love bragging about it?”

“One, that is none of your business. Two, it’s because what we discussed about it,” Stiles says. “Now, lets get back to this. If we work quickly, I can catch the tail end of movie night. Hopefully before they’ve finished all the snacks.”

“How are you not dating again?” Cillian mutters, though he does drop it, before they get back to work.

Once everyone gets it, Stiles is out of there. He says a quick goodbye to all of them, before climbing out of the booth, tripping over himself.

“So, what’s the situation there?” Janie asks when he’s gone.

“He and this Derek guy live together and he’s obviously head over heels for him. By the sound of it, they’re as good as married, but Stiles insists he’s not his boyfriend,” Amishi explains.

“We know little to nothing about him and it’s so frustrating, because whoever he is, he has zero online presence,” Cillian complains. “We study criminology, we like mysteries. But this is getting too much.”

“That did sound like a relationship,” Janie agrees tentatively.

She is met with more agreement and a few groans, before the study group slowly dissolves with more and more people leaving until it’s just Janie and Amishi. For a moment, Janie thinks about confessing, remembering Stiles’ words about Amishi being the oblivious one, but instead she says: “I had fun. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Amishi replies. “Walk to the dorms together?”

“Sure.”

Soon the semester is drawing to a close and Janie knows that in a bit she and Amishi won’t be sharing a course anymore. That doesn’t mean they won’t see each other anymore, but if she doesn’t make a move they might grow apart. She knows all this, but it’s still too scary and she just needs another push, just something to make her believe it can work out.

She gets that push two lectures later. Professor Hale is in the middle of his lecture when the door bursts open as a whirlwind of motion comes in.

Everyone’s head whips to the noise. Usually when someone is late, they’ll try to subtly side in, but not this person. This person is loudly interrupting professor Hale’s class, mouth already running, before he’s close to the teacher.

“I’m so sorry about this, sourwolf. I swear I’m making it up to you, but this is incredibly important and I have no other choice,” the person says.

It’s only when Amishi whispers: “What the actual fuck,” in a heartfelt voice that Janie realizes the person is Stiles. Like study group, Amishi’s course mate, clumsy smart, Stiles.

“My beautiful and hard working loving girl broke down and I have that internship interview today, which I’m running late for, because Isaac had forgotten his scarf and came to get it, so I really, really need the keys to the Camaro if I wanna have a chance at making it,” Stiles explains.

And professor Hale, who hates being interrupted, drops his lecture to dig through his bag while Stiles bounces on his toes. As he searches, he says: “Isaac has a key, he could get in. You didn’t have to wait for him.”

“I know, but he sounded a bit upset over the phone, so I wanted to make sure he was okay,” Stiles replies.

“Is he alright?” professor Hale asks, before pulling out the car key out with a triumphant noise.

“Yeah, he had just finished his book. Who gave him one with a sad ending anyway?” Stiles tells him, before taking the keys. “Thanks so much, you’re my hero.”

“Probably Lydia,” professor Hale says, before pushing Stiles towards the door. “Now go kick ass in your interview.”

“I always do,” Stiles tells him, turning to plant a kiss on their professor’s cheek. “But a kiss for luck can’t hurt.”

“You’re an idiot,” professor Hale rolls his eyes, but obligingly kisses Stiles’ cheek. “Now go. You were running late, remember.”

“Ah, fuck,” Stiles exclaims, checking his watch, before sprinting away. “I love you, Der-bear. Don’t be a sourwolf. And eat vegetables for lunch!”

“Just go, Stiles,” professor Hale yells, exasperated yet so overtly fond. “And I love you too.” Then Stiles is gone and it’s just professor Hale and the students. He claps in his hands. “Sorry about that, guys. Now, where were we.”

“Is he really going to move on like nothing happened?” Janie questions out loud, only realizing how hard she said that when it pierces through the quiet.

“I can’t believe I never connected the dots,” Amishi exclaims. “Clumsy Stiles, who insists he isn’t dating Derek. Professor D. Hale. And we ran into him outside. How could I not have noticed. He’s married!”

Professor Hale blushes, especially when Janie’s comment gets more support and more people start saying things like Amishi. He quiets them down again. “I get it, it’s all very interesting, but I can assure you that nothing about my husband will be on the exam.”

“Could have fooled me with how much he talks about him,” Janie jokes to Amishi quietly, this time, though professor Hale flushes more.

“Look, I know you’re all curious, but there’s a reason we don’t tell people who we’re with on campus, so I’m going to continue with my lecture,” professor Hale says. “He’s worth it all and I don’t need rumors floating around when I would give my life for him. Alright.”

It is silent in the lecture hall. Everyone there can feel how much professor Hale means it all. He takes their silence as a yes and starts his lecture again.

Janie thinks about it. Professor Hale married to a student. It’s a big risk, especially when being gay as well. A lot of people can use it against them. It can be a danger.

‘He’s worth it all’

In their every interaction Janie has witnessed, unknowingly or not, she felt how much the two mean to each other. It’s beautiful how they found each other and Janie wants something like that for herself as well. But she won’t unless she takes a risk first.

She glances at Amishi, who just happens to meet her eye. Or maybe- maybe she’s been looking just like Janie has.

Professor Hale is still talking in the background, but Janie can’t focus on anything but Amishi in that moment. Slowly she reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind Amishi’s ear, before smiling: “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

“What?” Amishi squeaks, ducking her head.

Normally professor Hale is very strict about talking in class, but he doesn’t cut Janie off as she tells Amishi: “You’re breathtaking. I- uhm, I would love to take you to dinner sometime, if you’d like that?”

“Oh,” the shocked ‘O’ on Amishi’s face very kissable, though Janie restrains herself. It’s not really a huge hardship when it turns into a blinding smile: “I’d love to.”

Janie smiles back, before focusing back on the lecture, though not before linking hands with Amishi, refusing to let go the entire time.

Yeah, some risks are worth it and she is so glad for signing up for some gay-shit.

~~

A/N:

I have always wanted to write one of these fics, like every year without fail I go down a rabbit hole and this time I am finally free of my cringe phase and doing whatever the fuck I want, so Teen Wolf fic in 2022 baby

Btw, ngl, the lesbian subplot took over my brain bc I am a bigass lesbian, rip to Sterek fans, we’re in this now (though there was a tie in! Go me, writing my actual fic lmao)

[serialadoptersbracket]

Round 2 Polls:

(Projected length: 32 days)

(Bonus Rounds: Here)

Day 1:

1. Ogai Mori vs. Pascal

2. The Doctor vs. Franky

Day 2:

3. Madoc vs. Daenerys Targaryen

4. Inspector Barnes vs. Bright Noa

Day 3:

5. August vs. Claude Frollo

6. Cale Henituse vs. Leif

Day 4:

7. Simon Petrikov vs. Chiron

8. Yami Sukehiro vs. Sei Handa

Day 5:

9. Gintoki Sakata vs. Eithan Arelius

10. Dr. Gregory House vs. Maglor

Day 6:

11. Wolverine vs. Izumi Curtis

12. Roy Mustang vs. Abraham van Helsing

Day 7:

13. Askeladd vs. Rune Saint John

14. Guts vs. Jake Sully

Day 8:

15. Sir Reginald Hargreeves vs. Jean Valjean

16. Kohachi Inugami vs. The Fix

Day 9:

17. Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla vs. Gumpa

18. Aphmau vs. Agent Washington

Day 10:

19. Grace vs. Vector the Crocodile

20. Alec Lightwood-Bane vs. Dadan

Day 11:

21. Bobby Nash vs. William Adama

22. Korosensei vs. The Warrior of Light

Day 12:

23. Kaname Date vs. Jack Starbright

24. Satoru Gojo vs. Dutch Van Der Linde

Day 13:

25. Xie Lian vs. Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane

26. Tom and Maddie Wachowski vs. Sakyo Furuichi

Day 14:

27. Welt Yang vs. Herlock Sholmes

28. Carlisle and Esme Cullen vs. Dracule Mihawk

Day 15:

29. Artemy Burakh vs. Barry and Iris West-Allen

30. Kazuma Kiryu vs. Yuugo and Lucas

Day 16:

31. Master Wu vs. Dave Seville

32. Axel vs. Izumi Tachibana

Day 17:

33. Arlecchino/The Knave vs. Sarah Jane Smith

34. Qifrey vs. Bell-Mere

Day 18:

35. Bobby Singer vs. Cap’n Craig Cuttlefish

36. Professor Hershel Layton vs. Donna Hanscum

Day 19:

37. Giovanni Potage vs. Ingo

38. Miles Edgeworth vs. Vil Shoenheit

Day 20:

39. Nick Fury vs. Dalinar Kholin

40. King Dedede and Meta Knight vs. Kavax au Telemanaus

Day 21:

41. Arataka Reigen vs. Jawbone O’Shaughnessey

42. Gol D. Roger vs. Abigail Pent and Magnus Quinn

Day 22:

43. Toriel Dreemurr vs. Master Kongo

44. Pongo and Perdita vs. Dr. Ivo “Eggman” Robotnik

Day 23:

45. Lance Strongbow vs. Derek Hale

46. Tony Stark vs. Roronoa Zoro

Day 24:

47. Jody Mills vs. Eric Gale

48. “Red-Haired” Shanks vs. Kurogane and Fai D’Flourite

Day 25:

49. Han Muchun vs. Iroh

50. Splinter vs. Lilia Vanrouge

Day 26:

51. Bruce Wayne vs. Thomas O’Malley

52. Jupiter North vs. Keishin Ukai

Day 27:

53. Kim Dokja vs. Roberto de Niro

54. Shōta Aizawa vs. Doctor Carmilla

Day 28:

55. Mendoza vs. Soundwave

56. David Wymack vs. Ash Ketchum

Day 29:

57. Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu vs. Yondu Udonta

58. Eda Clawthorne vs. Gavroche

Day 30:

59. Fukuzawa Yukichi vs. Optimus Prime

60. Camila Noceda vs. QSMP!Philza

Day 31:

61. Phoenix Wright vs. The Dragonborn

62. Bruno Bucciarati vs. Oliver Queen

Day 32:

63. Whitebeard vs. Otose

64. Sojiro Sakura vs. Yukari Yakumo

[blue-the-hedgehog]

I’m a freaking fierce Sterek apologist and most of the time I could bite anyone who tell that Stiles is with anyone else but Derek…BUT SOMETIMES I have this creeping Idea that the Hale pack ( like what should be the Hale pack with everyone alive) is just a big polymorous polycule that’s had everyone,aside of their own couples and trouples, just revolved around Stiles, because he is everyone crush! Well not EVERYBODY is actually romantically attracted to Stiles but at least one person of each polycule is (almost).

Last year of high school students and professors where now quite used to the strange dynamics of a very specific groupe of student.

First it was the two power hetero couples : Lydia and Aiden, the couple looked perfect, like greeks statues and they were fierce and the archetype of high school’s couples.

You also had Erica and Boyd, the two had made talk at first because how Erica bombshel Reyes could be with Vernon Stoic Boyd? But soon enough people had seen that their was something in this couple that made total sense and that they were actually quite a good fit for each other.

Secondly you had the polycules: the « sweet square » , as they been called by Beacon Hills high’s student because it was just all of the cute student of the whole high school,composed of Allison, Kira, Scott and Isaac. Not everyone understood how they fit in the polycule, who was with who? Until they discovered that everyone loved everyone and that it was working perfectly. They were blinding people with the happiness and cuteness radiating from them each time someone saw them all together cuddling.

On the other hand existed the « holy triangle », Jackson, Ethan and Danny. The trouple had Ethan at the center of their romantic relationship (even if it never stop Jackson and Danny to hook up sometimes). The three of then always made girls squeaked when they walk the halls either because they were the sexiest boys or because they were like fanfiction’s materials.

Thirdly you had the two classic (not totally) gay couples: Mason and Corey where the absolutely cutest couple. Always smiling, always sweet with each other. A total cute puppy love. Almost an anomaly in this groupe of weirdos.

Next to them you had the chaotic couple Liam and Theo. Always bickering, always throwing insults to each other or sometimes litteraly fighting with their fist but beware the fool who allow himself to insult one of them, the other would distroy the impudent!

Fourthly you had the free spirits, the free electrons: Malia who still had some difficulties to keep with human ways and who was hooking up with mostly Scott and Parrish, Cora who loved peoples but couldn’t stay with just one person because it was to much for her at this point she was mostly hooking up with Lydia or sometimes Isaac, Hayden was not always here since she had moved from town with her sister she would have this relationship with Liam but everyone knew that she had a boyfriend back home

So everyone in high school or even in Beacon Hills was used to those dynamics but the thing that was difficult to understand was: How does Stiles Stilinski fit into all of this?

It was usual to see Lydia took suddenly Stiles arm and kiss him unashamedly in the middle of the hall, staying the day with him will Aiden was doing his little life with his friends or even gave a friendly pat in Stiles’ back. People who walk through the hall would often cross Erika pulling him into a full mouth kiss, her against the lockers him pull against her. Then she would hold his hand possessively, sometimes Boyd would hold the other hand of the sheriff son other time he would hold Erica’s. During Lacrosse practice Isaac would be stuck against Stiles sometimes holding him from behind his head on his shoulder and kissing softly his cheek while whispering in his ear making him blush. Allison would sometimes kiss him in the corner of his mouth as she walk past him as they went from one class to another (it was more of a platonic love then a real relationship for them) Scott was the puppy who would pass days following his best friend around, Kira would give him hugs and soft kisses on his cheeks because the boy became her bestfriend . Sometimes Jackson could be seen in the boys’ lockers, his forearm near the brunette head Stiles’ back against his own locker both of them kissing in a kind of hungry aggressive way, Danny would flirt with him just to tease him and Ethan would eat alone with Stiles to take some advice on how to handle being in a throuple with two bestfriends. Mason, Corey and Liam were like the three puppies that Stiles protected, it was a kind of mother/son love in their case. If they were in need of advice or just wanted to have someone to confort them they would run straight to him. And when they will do something stupid or dangerous he will just yell or give them the biggest sarcastic answers possible. Stiles was a caring guy yes but he was also the biggest bitchy person in this town. But you could see that Liam had like this monumental crush on Stiles, People in town would saw Theo and Stiles argue violently at the coffee shop and ten minute after that they would make out in the dark alley next said coffee shop, kind of the same love/hate relationship as the one with Jackson but more chaotic because who knew that Jackson Whittemore would be a softie sometimes. Malia would suddenly kiss Stiles in the hall of the school or in town and just walk away like it was just a normal thing to do, Stiles would walk away the same with a « hey Malia », the Stilinski’s neighbor would see her crawl to Stiles’ window every now and then but their relationship is more healthy now. Cora as a Hale would so exactly the same climbing to the window, to have some cuddles party or more sometimes but their relationship was softer than anyone could have thought, it was little hands brushing in the halls, little kiss on the cheeks when they are out. Stiles is litteraly like Catnip for the Hales. Hayden was pretty much in the same relationship with Stiles than Corey and Mason, he was like a bitchy mom and would call her anytime he could to check on her.

But everyone could swear that the eighteenth boy had someone that could be called a boyfriend. A black camaro was often park in frond of the school, with Derek Hale waiting for Stiles. Said young man would run to him to through himself at his neck and kiss him like they where separated for months. And the majority of the time the older one would throw hard threatening looks to anyone coming near his boyfriend , some people could swear that they heard him growl like a big dog.

Slowly one new unexpected couple had appeared in town: Peter Hale and Chris Argent. The two where like fire and ice and still they seem to be madly in love with each other in their strange way.

And when Stiles get to his 25 yo those two familiar faces where add to the pictures. Peter Hale seems to have a deep relationship with his nephew's boyfriend. Yes it was weird for the people outside because really, the four remaining Hale?! The sheriff’s son was really this attractive for them?! They would go to library or debate coffee. They would talk quite happily about things that the mundane couldn’t understand. And the man would walk with his hand on the small of Stiles’ back or arms in arms. Peter would kiss Stiles’ head tenderly. Sometimes Chris Argent was with them. His hand between Stiles' shoulder blades. It was more platonic but the man would throw death glare everytime someone would laugh at the three or them or when someone would bump hard on Stiles in the street.

And everybody whispered questions like: Does the sheriff know about what his son is up to? Do they are a kind of cult and Stiles is the guru? How doeos Stiles can hide to his clearly really possessive boyfriend (cause those hickeys and bite marks on his neck could only be his) the fact that he have relationships with so many people?

One Day as Stiles and the whole pack (the sheriff and Melissa included) where celebrating Stiles' Birthday at the Jungle, because where this many people could fit in this town exept for this club, plus Danny knew the boss well, a foolish young man came to dance with Stiles. His body against the his back, touching his hips and trying to hit on him, he thought that this pretty boy belong to a lot of people so why not him. And that's when all of Beacon Hills’ citizens would know that Derek knew quite well that his mate had relationship with other pack’s members. But he didn’t mind as soon as some rules where followed. And this guy didn't seemed to listen when Stiles tried to push him off and didn't follow the rule one : Be a pack member. The Alpha werewolf leaped to them and pushed the guy away like he weight nothing, snarling and growling at him as he pulled Stiles against him. Soon all the others would come to protect their pack mom, each of them brushing against Stiles back or arms to get rid of the stranger's smell on him. Stiles easily made them calm down. Melissa, Noah and Chris would look at this display of possessiveness with shaking heads and laughs.

And people learned since this: Stiles Stilinski was not just a horny guy who would make out with anybody in the back of his boyfriend. He was in a real poliamourous dynamic (And maybe a cult, really they where all living in the Hale house for a few years now, totally a cult).

This night, after the party Derek would write on his laptop the rules that people had to follow if they wanted to apply for a place in the policul.

Rule to be Stiles Stilinski lover

Rule one: Be part of the pack

Rule two: Nobody except Derek Hale have the right to mark Stiles Stilinski

Rule Three: Always listening to Stiles and how he his feeling, never force our need on him.

Rule four: Only Derek Hale can touch Stiles Stilinski's neck

Rule five: Stiles Stilinski is Derek Hale's mate, Don't try to ask Stiles Stilinski to marry you.

Rule Six: Stiles Stilinski have the priority on Derek Hale's Time, it works the other way too. If you plan on taking my time you will disappear.

He looked at his screen before he snorted and closed it. It would certainly piss the Sheriff if he printed that and put it everywhere in town. Stiles would love it tho...

[clotpolesonly]

Please please please tell me more about ace sterek exploration 🥺

one of my favorite WIPs that i still swear i'm gonna finish someday!!!!!

human college AU where Derek is ace and decides he wants to explore his sexuality a little to figure out if he's sex repulsed and what his boundaries are through experimentation, and he gets a recommendation from Erica for Stiles, an experienced and sex-loving classmate that she can vouch for as being a really good respectful guy who won't be a dick about it.

Derek Hale stood in the hallway, hands in the pockets of his standard leather jacket, looking a little out of place in a shitty apartment building when Stiles was used to only seeing him in class. His head was down, but he looked up when Stiles said his name. He did not, however, volunteer anything. Stiles slumped against his door jamb. “What are you, uh…what are you doing here?” It didn’t register until after he had said it that asking like that might be rude. It was also a fair question, though, so Stiles let it stand. He had been acquainted with Derek for the better part of three years, since they had always had a lot of classes in the same buildings, but they weren’t really pals. Definitely not close enough for Derek showing up at his apartment after dinner time to not be weird. He wouldn’t have thought Derek even knew where he lived. Derek shifted on his feet. “I wanted to ask you something.” “If it’s about the reading for Professor Ito, I can email it to you,” Stiles offered, scratching his head. “A lot of people were having trouble with the PDF download earlier, according to Kira. She thinks they got the problem fixed, but if it still isn’t working for you—” “I want you to have sex with me.” Stiles got halfway through his next word before that statement processed in his brain, and then his mouth stopped functioning properly. His ears too, possibly, because that could not be what Derek had actually said. After a few painful seconds, he managed a weak, “Pardon?” Derek’s face looked downright angry, what with the eyebrows and the manfully clenching jaw, but the tips of his ears were pink and his glare seemed to have settled somewhere around Stiles’ knees. “I said I—” He cut himself off with a shake of his head. “I heard that you have a lot of…” “...sex?” Stiles put in helpfully when it seemed like Derek had lost track of that particular word. Derek’s ears only got redder. “Yes, that. And I need to… Well, I want to…” “...to have sex,” Stiles filled in again. “With me?” Derek nodded. He still looked mad, but Stiles thought that might just be his incredibly uncomfortable face.

[...]

Stiles was going to have to wing it, which he could totally do. As Derek had pointed out, Stiles had had a lot of sex in the last couple of years. He had a very healthy appetite, and he had grown into himself enough to be reasonably attractive to many of his peers. A couple of hookups a week kept him satisfied and able to focus better on his studies, and it also meant that he had plenty of experience with partners of varying tastes and preferences. Derek would be just one more. Besides, Stiles couldn’t say that he wasn’t looking forward to the chance to get all up on that, even if it got cut short. Derek was a flawless specimen of manly beauty and Stiles was not immune to his surly charms. In fact, Stiles was pretty sure that he had made a pass at Derek a few years ago, back when they had both been in the same Rhetoric and Composition class. He’d been rejected, as he had anticipated—though apparently not for the reason he’d assumed at the time—but he’d had to at least try. And now, here he was, making plans to have sex with Derek Hale. Or to attempt sex with Derek Hale, more like. There was no guarantee of how this would go. It was entirely possible that they could get two minutes in and Derek would call the whole thing off. Which would be perfectly fine and a good thing, really, because it would mean that Derek had figured out what he had come to Stiles to figure out. But if Derek didn’t call it off, then Stiles was going to make damn sure he had the best introduction to sex that anyone could ever have. He was going to rock Derek’s world, if Derek was okay with that. He hoped Derek was okay with that. He also hoped that Derek didn’t care if his carpet was vacuumed or not, because he was pretty sure his vacuum had been broken for like four months and no amount of hitting it was making it work again. Stiles wasn’t intending to sex Derek up on the floor of his living room, so it would probably be fine, but he was stress cleaning, so sue him.

[...]

“Is this okay?” Stiles’ voice came out lower and softer than he’d intended, but that was just because they were so close together. It didn’t make sense to be loud, he told himself. Derek licked his lips, eyes flicking up to Stiles’ and then darting away again. “I already said green, didn’t I?” “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to ask again,” Stiles said. “I’m going to keep asking, Derek. And I’m always going to listen to your answer.” Derek’s eyes met his and held them. They only fluttered closed when they were close enough to bump noses. Stiles kept the kiss simple at first. Just a press of lips, then another. He lingered over it long enough for Derek to press back experimentally, like he was testing out how this all worked. It was strangely sweet. Stiles gave him a little more, leading him in the push and pull of it, and when Stiles pulled back a bit, he found Derek with an adorable look of concentration on his face. “How’s it going so far?” he asked. “It’s…” Derek’s eyelashes fanned out across his cheeks in an inky sweep. “…weird.” “Good weird or bad weird?” “Not bad.” Stiles huffed a laugh. “Does that mean you want to keep going? Hit me with a color, dude.” Derek pinched his leg and ignored Stiles’ yelp to say, “Don’t call me ‘dude’.” Stiles contemplated snatching the throw pillow from the floor and laying into him—the most surefire way to win a pillow fight, after all, was to be in possession of the only pillow in the room—but he was on a mission and he would not be distracted. “Color.” Derek rolled his eyes. “Green.” “Okay, then, so come back here and let me kiss you again!”

and of course they're gonna develop feelings along the way, and Stiles is gonna angst about it cuz this is a Business Arrangement obviously and this isn't what Derek came to him for and he's taking advantage and whatnot, cuz that's how these things work, we know how it goes XD

.

ask me about my wips!

[justanothersterekficgirl]

Academia AU by orphan_account

3 works | 22k total | complete

“For those of you who just transferred into this class or simply decided that day one wasn’t important enough to attend, I’m Professor Hale. Welcome to English 346, The American Novel.”

Stiles is pretty sure his mouth is hanging open right now and that his eyes are wide with shock, because holy fuck, he thinks he knows why his students transferred. Hell, if he was still an undergrad, he probably would have transferred, too.

(Or: In which Stiles is a Biology professor and Derek thinks he's a student.)

[salemsvlog]

Sometimes a bisexual just want to scape reality while imaging Stiles Stilinski sleep-bringing Arthur Pendragon back to life after hearing his tesis professor tell him that Camelot was -in fact- not real.

Just picture Arthur waking up to Derek Hale growling at him after break in his friend-iwoulddieforyou-love-nohomo-enemy apartment and realizing there's already a very naked fucking prince charming there and then both going to Stiles college only to find him fighting with his professor bc he had a weird dream with him.

(Yes, that professor is Merlin himself, like hot 30s Merlin with dark academia outfits who after years of failing in resurrect all his friends just managed to bring back Gwaine).

I'm I crazy? Yes, yes I am.

Is this crazy person will someday have an architectural degree? Not if my delusions keep me away from completing my plans...