#Teen Wolf fic

[hedwig221b]

Do you have any Stiles kicked out of the pack recs?

Sure!

Leave It All Behind by asarcasticwitch

A coil of panic tightens in his chest as, after just three short rings, Derek’s voice—raspy as if barely awake—echoes through the speaker. “Do you know what time it is?” he grumbles, and at any other time, Stiles would’ve made a joke or retorted with something so sarcastic it would’ve undoubtedly earned him a huff in return. But right now, he can’t think of anything to say.

The One You Choose by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions)

Stiles hadn’t seen Scott in over a week, except for glances he caught during school hours.

It seems wasted now by DaaroMoltor

It's been months. Months of lonely days and lonelier nights. And Stiles can't understand what he did wrong.

Stiles, Wait! by Sivan325

5 times Scott tried to kick Stiles out of the pack, but Derek defended him, and 1 time Stiles and Derek left together.

Lone Wolf by Kikileduc

Stiles feels forgotten, he feels left out. So he does something about it, while getting reacquainted with nature he stumbles on to something else. If the pack doesn't need him, if his dad wants him to stay out of it all, well, maybe he just needs a distraction in the form of 3 adorable wolf cubs!

Sparks and shadows by Nival_Vixen

Stiles has to figure out a way to maintain a balance between his spark and the darkness inside of him.

No one called, until someone did. by queen_of_OTPs

Stiles found that he hadn’t spoken more than necessary since August. Gone were the rambling rants, extravagant gestures, and range of vocal tones. Monotone sentences that were cut with sharp edges, words like knives and tone like venom. No one had called.

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | magical Stiles | mafia

[heavensenthale]

bloodmoon

sterek | explicit | vampire!Stiles/werewolf alpha!Derek

summary:

Stilinski threw his head back, exposing his long pale neck in a lewd show of dramatics. He stood up, turning around to face Derek, stretching a hand to the side until someone passed him a cloth. Instead of cleaning the trickle of blood that ran down his chin, he wiped his hands quickly and tossed the cloth in the direction of the crumpled man behind him. “Now, now, aren’t I lucky to feast my eyes on you, Hale?” asked Stilinski, smirking. [Or: After Stiles Stilinski saved his life, Derek swore to pay him back. It just so happened Stiles wanted him to play bodyguard.]

CHAPTER 3 NOW AVAILABLE

READ FROM CHAPTER 1

[star-girl-05]

Were Dating?

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

His signature blue jeep pulled into your driveway at exactly eight. Surprisingly the brunette was on time for once. As soon as he parks he’s jumping out of the jeep, giving you his dorky smile before opening the passenger side door for you. You just chuckle at his actions. 

You and Stiles have been friends for years though it was only lately that he's been acting somewhat differently. He’s been sweeter to you, more thoughtful, you contribute it to the fact the two of you have been spending more alone time together. Tonight the two of you are going to see a new horror movie that you’ve been dying to see. 

You and Stiles just buttered your popcorn when you bump into Scott and allison. Coincidentally they are going to see the same movie, so you decided to join each other. ‘A double date’ in Stiles' own words. The night went amazing, after the movie the four of you decided to get food. At the end of the night Stiles drives you back to your house. Even going as far as walking you to the door. Just as you're about to say goodnight he kisses you. You freeze when his lips meet yours, completely stunned by the boy's bold move. 

“Uh.. What was that?” You weren't against Stiles kissing you but you wanted to know why he's kissing you out of the blue. 

Stiles tilted his head a blush still coating his cheeks, “It’s a goodnight kiss, can’t I kiss my girlfriend” Now you're really confused. 

“I’m your girlfriend?” 

“Of course you're my girlfriend”, he chuckled thinking you were teasing him. It's only when you ask since when with a completely straight face does he realize you're being serious. “A week in a half, I asked you out two tuesdays ago.”

It took a few seconds to place the day.

It was an average day, Stiles was driving you home like he does everyday. Only this time when you pulled up to your house he stops you. “Hey before you go I wanted to ask you something” He was oddly nervous but you didn't think anything about it, giving him a nod of encouragement. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang-out, like just the two of us.” Why he’s so nervous to ask you to hang out you don’t know but you answer right away. 

“Of course, I don’t know why you were so nervous to ask. I could never say no to you.” A huge smile blooms on Stiles face, his dimples fully on show. 

“Thank goodness, I was so nervous that you would say no” you laugh at his reaction, why on earth would you ever say no. 

Now looking back on it’s so obvious that he was asking you on a date. In your defense he never used the word date or the word girlfriend. So it wasn’t totally your fault for not connecting the dots. 

“I didn’t realize you were asking me out” your voice is soft 

“Oh” an awkward silence covers the two of you as both stare at each other. He had no idea how to respond, this whole time he thought you were his girlfriend, but you thought the two of you were only friends. He had no idea how you thought the two of you were friends. He wasn't hiding his affection for you. The two of you would hold hands, and cuddle yet you thought you were friends. He felt like an idiot, he just kissed you when you saw him as just a friend. “Well then goodnight I guess sorry I kissed you let's just forget about it” he tried to laugh off his discomfort, this is not how he thought tonight was going to go. This morning he was dating his longtime crush and now he’s finding out it was all a lie. He just wanted to run away and die of embarrassment. 

Before he could leave you grab his arm pulling him back to you and placing a kiss on his lips. His mind short-circuited, he’s on a rollercoaster. One second he's dating you then you're rejecting him and now you're kissing him. 

“Stiles, do you want to be my Boyfriend?” 

“Yeah I would love too” his smiles huge 

“That's how you ask someone out” you giggle out

“Well when someone takes you on dates and holds your hands that means your dating” the both of you laugh kissing each other once more.

[stereksimp]

*Stiles just killed Donovan in self-defense. He pulls out his phone, pausing on Scott's contact and stares at it. He remembers each time Scott has left him hanging or didn't believe him and promptly clicks on 🍋🐺. The call barely starts in on the second ring before it clicks.

Derek: What's wrong?

Stiles: Why does anything have to be wrong for me to call you?

Derek: Because if everything were alright, you would have just texted.

Stiles: ....I killed someone.

Derek: Why?

*Stiles proceeds to tell him all about Theo and the Dread Doctors. Then quietly goes through the night with Donovan.*

Stiles: I just need someone that will believe me. Please.

Derek: I'll be there tomorrow afternoon. You're going to be fine. Stay with the body. Call your dad. Tell him exactly what you told me. You did nothing wrong.

Stiles: *crying* I killed someone!

Derek: *calm* NO. You protected yourself and your father. I'm checking in at the airport right now. I'll be there in 16 hours.

[daintylovers]

imagine moving to beacon hills around season one. right around the same time, allison moves in. it's nice not being the only new girl, so you two quickly become friends.

imagine meeting lydia for the first time. it happens in your fourth class of the day, you two are assigned to be partners for the semester. albeit, at first she isn't thrilled, but once she gives you a chance, everything changes. she's found someone like-minded for once in this small town. someone as intelligent, yet fashionable as her. she thinks for a quick second, if she liked girls, she would love you.

imagine seeing stiles for the first time. seeing- not meeting, because the boy can only gawk at you from across the hall. it's definitely weird and a little unsettling at first, but it's nice to be admired? right?

imagine finally talking to the poor boy for the first time. it had to be you who spoke first, his brain going a mile a minute. it happens a few days later, when lab partners are assigned. stiles almost faints when he hears your names paired together. scott has to be the one to push him out of his seat. it feels kind of how you imagine bella felt when edward and her first meet, awkward and stiff. does he not like you? maybe that's why he was always staring, it wasn't in fantasy, but with disgust. not being one to dwell on whether someone likes you or not, you push through, introducing yourself with a raised out hand. stiles is quick to latch on, spewing out his full government name. then once he catches the confusion on your face, he tells you that you could call him stiles.

imagine going to lydias house party, that very night. running into all your newfound friends, dancing and drinking a little. then seeing your shy new lab partner chasing after his drunk friend. but also allison chasing after the drunk friend. whats his name again? shawn? smith? stiles? no- wait stiles is yours. scott! its scott. but by the time you have that revelation, the three are already outside. so you watch as allison gets into some random car and stiles stands are dumbfounded. scott has seemingly disappeared, and there's an unease building in your chest. who was that guy with allison? stiles, sensing someone behind him, turns around to face the one person he doesn't want to see at the moment. not because he doesn't like you, but because he is pretty sure his best friend is a freaking werewolf.

imagine asking him if he knew who allison got in the car with, and getting an unsavory response. great, your new friend might get murdered and tossed into the woods tonight. the alcohol is catching up to you rather quickly, and the worry is only increasing. stiles starts to make a move to his car, eager to see if scott went back home when you wrap a hand around his upper arm. it's not harsh or anything, so he doesn't flinch, but he is confused. you ask him if he will give you a ride to allisons, because you guys live close together and you want to make sure she gets home safe. stiles immediately says yes, but tells you he has to make a quick stop at scotts. something about possible alcohol poisoning or something, which makes your head spin. oh fuck, what if you have that?

imagine being told to wait in the car as stiles goes into scotts house. the boy is very persistent as you try to help him out. he offers to get you fries from the local drive-through if you just please stay in the car. that gets you to comply, so you're left staring out the window. it doesn't take long for stiles to come running out of the house and speeding down the street. you don't even have to ask because he tells you that allison went home with this guy derek who is very very evil. you never get those fries. but the good news is that allison is alive!

imagine stiles walking you to your door because you and allison really do live right next to each other. you guys don't say much, the adrenaline rush already crashing. you guys are about to part ways when you stop him and ask for his number. he seems like a nice guy and you joke about how you'll harass him until he gets you those fries. his heart does cartwheels as you exchange digits, and makes a mental note to kill scott. in a perfect world, you two would have managed to spend the whole night together, but scotts newfound supernatural abilities are already infiltrating stiles life.

imagine waking up the next morning with a pounding headache and a text from stiles telling you to get dressed cause he is coming over in fifteen minutes. it has you smiling like a child and it feels so goddamn good. maybe this kid will be cooler than you imagined. he pulls into your driveway and you open the door to see him with iced vanilla lattes and Mcdonald's french fries. this guy might just be an angel. you let him in and for the rest of the morning, you guys eat and talk about nothing while lounging around your room.

[redroses07]

Just Friends // Stiles Stilinski

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

WC:1.7k

Summary: Stiles is struggling after being controlled by the Nogitsune, and he turns to you for help. But little does he know, it will turn your friendship into so much more. Takes place after season 3. (Allison isn't dead!!!)

Warnings: Swearing, angsty as fuck, sad Stiles, kissing, implied smut if you squint?, PTSD.

A/N: HI GUYS!!! I really like this fic and ofc I hope y'all will too! This is my first time writing about Stiles and I think I did pretty well! As always, enjoy!! And comments and reblogs are appreciated. P.S. lmk if y'all want me to do a part 2 where they tell their friends (Scott's reaction hee hee) - Claire ♡

After Stiles was released from the control of the Nogitsune, things seemed to go back to normal. Well, at least that’s what one would think from the outside.

The series of events had taken a severe toll on Stiles’s mental health, and even though he did a good job of hiding it, you were the one person who seemed to know what he needed.

It all started about a week after everything happened, it was the middle of the night and you were jolted awake by the sound of your phone buzzing by your head.

You were about to hit decline but then you saw it was Stiles and feelings of worry began to stir within you.

You quickly answered, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you forced yourself awake.

"Stiles, is everything okay?"

"Yeah...well not really. I hate to ask, but do you think you could drive over to my house. I just really don't want to be alone right now." Stiles's voice was groggy, and laced with exhaustion. The fact alone that he was asking you this made you immediately agree.

You hopped out of bed, not bothering to change out of your pajamas, slipped on your slippers, and you were on your way.

Your house wasn't far from Stiles's, about a five minute drive with no traffic.

You lived directly in the middle of him and Scott, being only a short distance from each. The close proximity was the main reason the three of you had stayed so close throughout your school years.

"Friends", that's all you and Stiles had ever been. Although, neither of you could deny the chemistry between the two of you, risking your friendship never seemed worth it.

It was on this night that all that would begin to change.

When you arrived at Stiles's house, he had left the door unlocked for you so you wouldn't have to fumble around with the spare key in the dark.

You found Stiles laying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He looked lost in thought, his eyes rimmed with dark circles. It hurt seeing him look so drastically different from the Stiles you knew, and you wanted to do whatever you could to help.

You laid down next to him, your body facing his.

"Hey..." Stiles began, still staring at the ceiling.

"Stiles, what's going on? You know you can trust me with anything right?"

"Yeah...It's just a lot to put into words." Stiles's voice cracked, which told you that he was fighting tears.

You sat up and stiles copied the movement. You were now both facing each other, sitting legs crossed on his bed. You pushed aside the unspoken vow between the two of you and placed his hands in yours. Stiles's breath hitched, and you could tell he was avoiding eye contact with you.

"Take all the time you need, I'll listen to every word." you said softly.

"I know everyone thinks I'm doing okay, but I can't even function. I can't sleep without having nightmares. I can't eat or do anything without remembering all the awful stuff he made me do. I didn't know who else to tell except you. Scott has his own set of issues, and you're the only person I trust like this."

Stiles began to ramble, and your heart broke as he did. How had you not noticed earlier? Yes, it had only been a week, but you knew Stiles better than anyone. You felt like an awful best friend.

"I'm so tired, I just want to feel normal again." He could no longer hold back the tears, the dam broke and Stiles became a sobbing mess.

You pulled him into your arms with no hesitation, which only made Stiles want to cry.

"No, no I'm going to get your clothes all wet." Stiles protested trying to pull away, but you wouldn't let him.

"A few tears never hurt anyone." You said.

At that Stiles let himself fall into you, his body going limp with exhaustion. You tried not to cry along with him, wiping your burning eyes to prevent the tears.

"It'll be okay." You whispered as Stiles's sobs turned into sniffles. He finally looked up, his cheeks wet from the tears that had escaped his puffy eyes.

You did the only thing you could think of and gave him two kisses, one peck on each cheek. Stiles lips turned up in a small smile, his cheeks still turning red despite his current state.

"I think the first thing we need to do is get you to bed." You smiled, pushing Stiles's messy hair back.

He looks at you and nods without moving from your arms. You lean back on his bed, pulling him with you. You positioned yourself to where Stiles was resting on top of your body, his head pressed to your chest. You kept your arms wrapped around him, squeezing his body in an attempt to comfort him.

As you were settling down you heard Stiles whisper your name softly.

"Yeah?"

"Promise you'll wake me up if I'm having a nightmare?"

"I promise." You replied as you reached down and laced your fingers with his.

Stiles gave you a half-hearted smile in response, his puffy eyes glazed over from fatigue.

"Thank you." Stiles murmured, fighting sleep.

"Shhh." Was your only response as you traced your fingers along his back.

"I love you." It was an incoherent whisper, so much that you couldn't be sure of his words. But something told you you had heard correctly.

By the time you went to reciprocate the statement, the room was filled with Stiles's muffled snores.

You sighed and proceeded to fall asleep yourself.

Stiles slept through the night for the first time in weeks.

After that the trajectory of your relationship began to shift.

From holding Stiles's hand to remind him that everything was okay when you were with your friends, to staying up all night listening to him talk.

You rarely got to sleep at home anymore, but you didn't mind. You weren't far if you needed something, and it helped Stiles get a good night's sleep. Yet he would still apologize every time. "I'm sorry to bother you again.", "I promise this is the last time.", when in reality you were definitely okay with an excuse to spend more time with him.

You had become his anchor to reality, and Stiles could feel things beginning to look up with every day that passed.

Your friends picked up on it too.

"So, are you and Stiles together, or..." Lydia and Allison asked when they managed to corner you at your locker one day. It was a question you didn't know how to answer. Eventually landing on, 'it's complicated.'

"What's going on with you and Stiles, I'm starting to feel like a third wheel when we're together." It was a joke, but there was certainly some truth behind it.

You laughed it off and changed the subject, but didn't forget the comment that night when you and Stiles laid in each other's arms drifting off to sleep.

Surprisingly, it wasn't you who finally brought it up, but Stiles.

It was a Friday night, and the two of you were at your house instead of his.

"Shit, I forgot clothes to change into." Stiles said as he fumbled through his backpack.

"It's all good, I have a spare pair of clothes in my drawer for you." You replied, pointing to the dresser.

Stiles smiled and laughed, holding eye contact with you for perhaps a moment too long.

"You take care of so much for me, sometimes I feel like you're my wife." It was a casual statement, but it put you at a loss for words.

You laughed awkwardly, failing to come up with a reply.

Stiles could very clearly read your emotions, he pushed the drawer shut and walked back over to sit next to you.

You tried to calm yourself, but your heart wouldn't stop beating at what felt like an unhealthy pace.

"You're my best friend..." Stiles began, taking your clammy hands in his.

"You've done so much for me in the past few weeks, just like a best friend should; but I can't help thinking that this feels like something more."

You felt as if the world stopped. You knew this conversation would come, but definitely not now. Your brain seemed to stop producing thoughts.

"Please tell me I'm not imagining all of this. I know this is a lot at once, but Y/N I love you." Stiles's voice shook from the overwhelming nerves.

"I love you too." You spoke for the first time in minutes, it felt amazing after you had heard it fall from his lips that first night you spent together.

Stiles's eyes gazed into yours, and suddenly the feeling of just your hands touching wasn't enough.

You reached over and grabbed Stiles face, finally closing the gap between the two of you.

You pulled Stiles down as you did, his body landing on top of you sinking into the kiss.

You tugged on his hair lightly, pulling him as close to you as humanly possible. Stiles fell deeper into the kiss, locking your hands together and pressing your body further into the soft mattress.

After a few minutes of pure bliss you broke apart. The air that filled your lungs was both a blessing and a curse. You needed to breathe, but the absence of his touch only made you want him more.

Stiles hovered over you, the sound of his heavy breathing was the only thing you could hear over your own beating heart.

"So I take it you're not just my best friend anymore?" Stiles giggled, pressing his forehead gently against yours.

"Nope."

You gave a sly smile before pulling Stiles down by his shirt and connecting your lips once more.

[mrspasser]

I'll lay my head down here

Sterek fanfiction Stiles needs a place to sleep. He chooses Derek.

Also available on A03.

image source

“I’m not sleeping on the floor again, you assholes!” Stiles throws a balled up burger wrapper at the infuriating werewolves who took over his intended sleeping space. 

Isaac bats the greasy paper ball away with a quick flick of his hand, hardly having to look at it. “You snooze, you lose, Stilinski,” he says meanly, as he snuggles deeper inside the couch pillows to drive his point home. “Besides, I gave up my bed, I shouldn’t be the one to sleep on the floor.”

Stiles perks up when an idea crosses his mind. Upstairs, in Isaac’s room, are Lydia and Cora. Maybe he could -

“Don’t even think about it, Stilinski!” Jackson cuts his unspoken thought off with one sharp remark. He glares at him from his spot on the couch he’s sharing with Isaac: one asshole werewolf on each side. The guy is extra touchy because Lydia picked Cora as a sleeping partner over him - which is more than fair, if you ask Stiles, both Lydia picking Cora over Jackson and Jackson being sour over getting the cold shoulder from his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, Stiles, I don’t think you’ll fit,” Allison offers apologetically from his right. She’s squeezed in the large armchair with Scott, who’s already fast asleep and snoring softly. 

He waves her offer away. If he’d try to squish himself in the chair with them, neither one of them would sleep a wink all night. Same goes for the couple in the other available chair, although Stiles is more sure to survive the night with Scott and Allison than with Boyd and Erica. That only leaves - 

“You could try Derek?” Allison blinks innocently at him. 

Stiles huffs a laugh, letting the sarcasm bleed through in generous helpings. “Yeah, right.” He leaves it at that, too tired to hope to put up the proper facade of pretending to dislike the Alpha werewolf. Hey, we all deal with our crushes in our own way! Stiles has to do what he can when literally living with a pack of wolves, who can smell pheromones and who knows what else.

Eventually, he settles for stretching out on the rug that Lydia made Derek buy a while back. It’s not overly cushiony, but it’ll do the job. It’ll have to. Besides, he hasn’t had a proper night of sleep in four or maybe even five days, staying up researching and worrying most of the night. The Big Bad is dead, the worrying is over and his research paid off: he should be able to sleep now, right?!

At first, Stiles uses his hoodie for a pillow, yet after about twenty minutes he gives up and pulls it back on because he won’t be able to sleep if he’s cold. Derek patched up most of the holes in his loft and it’s actually resembling a nice apartment these days, but it’s still the middle of the night in February and Stiles is lying on the floor without a blanket or a pillow. He misses his own bed. His comforter. His pillow. His other pillow, the one that’s older than him and oddly lumpy, but it was the one that was in his mother’s bed until the day she died. It hasn’t smelled like her in a long, long time. Stiles has also washed it a couple of times during the years, he’s not that much of a pig, despite popular opinion. But it’s familiar and comforting and he still takes it with him for sleepovers with Scott. 

He considers whether or not he would’ve brought his pillow if this impromptu sleepover had been planned in any way. He’s known Scott since kindergarten, he’s his best friend. He wouldn’t say or even think anything bad about Stiles still needing a special pillow to sleep even when he’s almost twenty one years old. And while he knows most of the people in this room for five years or even longer and trusts them with his life, that doesn’t mean that they’re not a bunch of dickheads who will tease him every chance they get.

It’s a pointless thought exercise, because nothing about this sleepover was planned. They were supposed to kill that wyvern during the day, when it slept in his creepy little cave. That's what all Stiles’ research was for! He even found a way to kill the beast without having to hack it to pieces, which was nice because in the end he was against animal cruelty, you know? But then there were witches, two of them. They weren’t planned, neither was the ensuing fight in the woods. The unexpectedness of it all had left everybody antsy, especially the werewolves. And even though they recouped with a movie night and a nice pack pile, nobody wanted to be very far away from the others. Hence the impromptu sleepover that had Stiles sleeping on a rug, between the coffee table and the couch. Which wasn’t fair, because he totally knocked a witch out with his bat! He did his fair share and pulled his weight and what not. The least he deserves is a nice night of sleep.

Another hour later, Stiles is sore all over and chilled to the bone. There’s no way he can sleep like this. “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he whispers to the leg of the coffee table that he knows has Isaac’s claw marks on it. 

As quietly as he can he makes his way upstairs on the rounding stairs. On the landing there’s three doors to choose from: the one on his left leads to Isaac’s bedroom, where Lydia and Cora are sleeping. The one in the middle is the bathroom - with a bath, for heaven’s sake, Derek has a tub! - and that leaves the master bedroom on his right. The Alpha’s den. Stiles has never been inside it. He even doubts if Isaac has set foot in the room very often, besides for cleaning purposes.

Stiles never really intended to go into Derek’s room, because despite what the others seem to think, he actually values his life. And his dignity. He thought it better to take a chance with the girls, take on the risk of Jackson wanting to kill him the next morning when he discovered Stiles had slept in the same bed as his girlfriend.

But…

The door to Derek’s bedroom is cracked.

Stiles can see inside. 

He can’t see that much, with it being the middle of the night and the only light coming from a gap between the curtains in front of Derek’s window. But the moonlight is just right, illuminating the sleeping form of the Alpha in the bed. A bed that is more than large enough for two people and Derek is neatly sleeping on one side of the bed. If Stiles is quiet enough he might even be able to slip into the bed without waking Derek. The werewolf got hurt pretty badly today and healing always takes a lot out of him. There’s a pretty good chance the guy is sleeping like a log.

Stiles takes a deep breath. He’s gonna risk it.

***

He didn’t think he’d actually do it, but after a few minutes of indecisiveness on the landing, Stiles quietly tiptoes into Derek’s bedroom. He rounds the bed to the unoccupied side of the mattress and gingerly lifts the tip of the blanket.

“You’re not getting in with your jeans on,” Derek says, without opening his eyes.

Stiles yelps and he’s already stammering halfway through an apology when he suddenly shuts his mouth. His back teeth actually click together. There’s a few seconds of silence and then: “You’d let me into your bed?”

“Not with your jeans on,” Derek repeats. Usually he wouldn’t do this, but he’s been listening to Stiles toss and turn downstairs for a while now and with all of his pack members sleeping peacefully, he’d like the last one to get some rest too. Besides, Stiles would continue to keep him up with his restless behaviour otherwise; Derek just can’t seem to tune him out. It’s been that way for years already, maybe even from the beginning.

“O-kay.” He can feel Stiles staring at him in the dark and he patiently waits for the decision he knows the boy is gonna make. No, not a boy. Stiles will be 21 this Spring. Derek has seen him grow up, literally and figuratively, along with the rest of his ragtag pack of teenagers. Stiles still wears jeans and plaid most of the time, but the garments don’t hang as loose on him as they did when he was 16. He’s grown into a handsome young man, with a good head on his broad shoulders. Derek counts himself lucky to have Stiles as part of his pack, to have him close. Not as close as he sometimes might wish, yet Derek is always conscious of not playing favourites. So he usually keeps Stiles at an arm length and takes care to treat him just like everyone else. It helps that the two of them elevated snark and banter to an effective communication style. Despite all the sarcasm and barbs, Derek is pretty sure there is no-one in his pack who sees through him like Stiles does. It was scary at first and it made him lash out, but Stiles stood firm. Derek is immensely grateful that he did.

There’s the rustling of clothing hitting the floor, jeans and a shirt, then the blanket lifts and Stiles scoots underneath. Derek feels him settle in behind his back, a foot or so away. “Thanks,” Stiles whispers in the dark.

“Go to sleep,” Derek grunts, eager to go to sleep and not think about the young man who is sharing his bed.

***

Derek’s bed is pretty comfortable, Stiles thinks to himself as he digs himself in. Oh, who is he kidding?! Derek’s bed is amazing. The mattress is just the right combination of firm and soft, the pillow hugs his head and shoulders just right and the comforter is warm but still light to the touch. It’s a million times better than his bed at home, even when he’s not counting the fact that he’s sharing the bed with a hot werewolf.

Yet Stiles can’t sleep. 

Yes, the pillow is heavenly. Yes, the mattress allows his tired body to finally relax. Yes, the comforter hugs him nicely. But there’s something missing and Stiles knows exactly what it is. His pillow.

He needs to hold something. He needs to be able to curl around something. Or someone, his traitorous brain suggests as he feels Derek move across from him.

“Why aren’t you asleep, Stiles?” Derek asks in that long-suffering tone he uses when Stiles is doing something to annoy him. Which is pretty often, although Stiles knows the annoyance is mostly for show these days. He has turned onto his back, his eyes glinting in the moonlight where they are looking over at Stiles.

“Can’t,” Stiles laments, trying to catch the comforter between his arms in lieu of his dearly missed pillow. It doesn’t really work, because the comforter also has to cover Derek’s bulk and there’s little left to use. Little to none, especially when Derek snatches the comforter back from where it was probably leaving a cold gap on Derek’s other side. The sudden move has Stiles sort of falling over from where he was laying on his side. He’s more on his front now, filling up the space that was between them at first. He can feel the warmth of Derek’s body from just a few inches away. It’s actually kind of comforting.

“Try harder,” Derek commands and he closes his eyes again.

Stiles thinks of answering ‘Yes, Alpha’, but thinks better of it. It might make Derek move again, to push Stiles out of bed instead of pulling him in to have a cuddle. So he stays quiet and closes his eyes, focussing his mind on the almost tangible presence of Derek’s bare shoulder mere inches away. Derek is warm and smells nice and if Stiles was a werewolf, he’s sure he’d feel even better about having his Alpha so close. Yet even though he’s not a werewolf, he still enjoys it. A lot.

He falls asleep.

He knows that, because he wakes up at some point, at an unknown hour of the night. He’s warm, so warm. And comfortable, even though his pillow is a lot firmer than he remembers it being. It also moves a little, because his pillow is Derek and the Alpha werewolf gently moves his arm in what Stiles suspects is a more comfortable position. He would panic about sleeping half on top of Derek if he were not so damn comfortable. It’s hard to keep his eyes open. Surely if Derek wouldn’t want him sleeping on him, he’d push Stiles off. Instead, Stiles feels Derek’s arm wrap around his back, accompanied by a soft sigh from the Alpha.

Stiles sleeps.

***

Derek is not the first to wake up, although he is certainly not the last. He becomes aware of the world with Stiles wrapped around his torso, his head pillowed on Derek’s chest. He’s only a little surprised by how good it feels to wake up like this and it takes a while before he brings himself to carefully move out of Stiles’ embrace. The boy mumbles a little, but doesn’t wake up. Derek watches him for a moment, standing beside his bed. He’s not sure how to feel about this, except for some embarrassment about wanting to crawl back into bed and slot himself back into Stiles’ arms.

Downstairs, most of the pack is still asleep. Isaac has his arms wrapped around Jackson’s lower legs, as if he’s cuddling a particularly bony teddy bear. Jackson is still asleep, even snoring softly. Scott snores too, curled around his girlfriend in the large armchair. In the other armchair, Boyd is watching him carefully, his arms wrapped around his sleeping girlfriend. 

“Morning,” the dark man rumbles quietly, not to wake Erica.

“Morning,” Derek answers, keeping his voice down as well. “Coffee?”

Boyd inclines his head in thanks and Derek ambles on to the kitchen, where he finds Lydia, immersed in a science journal. She has a cappuccino sitting in front of her, the cup half empty. “Good morning, Derek,” she says, briefly glancing up from her reading material.

“Morning,” he repeats, busying himself with the coffee maker. He brings a cup to Boyd when he’s done and returns to join Lydia at the table. He sits back in his chair, his coffee in front of him, to catch the rays of pale sunlight that slant through the high windows. It’s quiet in the loft, with most of the people still sleeping and the ones that are awake quietly starting up their day.

He sips from his coffee, listening to the sounds of Cora waking up and going into the bathroom. She comes downstairs not long after, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt - same as her brother, her bare feet hardly making a sound. He points to the mostly full pot of coffee on the counter when she enters the kitchen and he gets a hair ruffle as thanks from his little sister. She pours herself a cup and leans against the counter, enjoying the sunlight on her face just like he is. 

It’s Stiles who comes down next, although Derek can hear from the way he drags his feet that he’s barely awake. Why he’s not sleeping in like he should be, is anyone’s guess. He expects Stiles to stop in the living room, to wake up Scott or maybe even Jackson if he’s feeling particularly cheeky, but he doesn’t. The footsteps pretty much make a beeline from the stairs towards the kitchen. Derek opens one eye from where he closed them against the sunrays to see Stiles shuffling towards him in his boxers and T-shirt, rubbing a hand over his face and yawning soundlessly. His hair is standing up on one side. He’s wearing socks, navy blue ones with a red line near the toes.

The werewolf opens his mouth to point his packmate towards the coffee maker, but before he can say anything, Stiles has reached his chair and slings a hairy leg over his lap. He plonks down unceremoniously and lays his head on Derek’s shoulder, arms wrapping loosely around his waist. 

“You were gone,” Stiles mumbles disapprovingly, his mouth moving against Derek’s collarbone. And just like that his heartbeat evens out and he’s fast asleep again.

Derek sits frozen in his chair, his heart beating loudly inside his ribcage. If Stiles were awake he could probably feel it pound against his own chest. His hands hover uselessly on either side, not knowing whether to wrap around Stiles or pick him up and toss him to the floor. 

Stiles is oblivious, his sleeping body moulding easily against Derek’s. He’s warm and pliant, just like he was when they were sleeping together in Derek’s bed. 

When he chances a look at Lydia across the table, she’s already watching him steadily with a sly smile playing around the corners of her lips. “Glad to see you two finally got your heads out of your asses,” she comments eventually, before primly taking a sip from her cappuccino and going back to her reading.

Behind him, Cora snorts quietly in amusement. She comes up at his back and puts a hand in his hair again, running her fingers through the short strands. It’s grounding and Derek only notices how much he needs that when she lightly scratches her nails across his scalp. 

“He’s cute like this,” his sister remarks and even though he can hear the humour in her voice, he can also hear the truth in her heartbeat. “Best not wake him up, big bro.” She runs her hand through his hair one last time and then she wanders off, leaving him to carefully wrap one arm around Stiles’ lower back.

Slowly, Derek feels himself relax. The loft is quiet and peaceful and Derek is in his own little bubble, with the sunlight on his face and Stiles in his lap. Almost automatically, he starts to rub his hand slowly up and down Stiles’ back. Aside from some sleepy snuffling, there’s no real response. Derek picks his coffee back up and slowly drinks it, tilting his face towards the sun. It’s a nice morning.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

“Why did you ask me that?”

“Huh? What's that, big guy?” Stiles mumbles, answering the query with one of his own without looking away from Derek's laptop screen. The laptop Derek kind of bought for Stiles for when Stiles is at the loft.

Whatever. 

There's a ballpoint pen shoved in the kid's mouth—God, that mouth—and another slid behind an ear, the latter ready and waiting for Stiles to click to death in the In Between Typing Times.

The others dispersed a couple of minutes ago. Apart from Derek and Stiles, only Lydia and Deaton now remain at the loft and they're deep in conversation about the preliminary theory of who or what is killing the humans of Beacon Hills this week, and are standing at the opposite side of the open-plan space, making more coffee. Scott and Malia left to rally the other ʼwolves (not answering their phones as they're at a cinema screening) plus find and talk to Argent to arrange a pack meeting proper about the situation, so they can all work on devising a plan. Granted, there is Peter to consider—who's probably still lurking somewhere, what with lurking being one of his favourite pastimes—who can obviously hear any and all conversations that are, or could be happening inside of the building. Sadly though, Derek has never been able to hide much of anything from his uncle.

So. 

He thinks about elaborating on the question he asked Stiles, but can't.

He tries not to stare at Stiles, and fails.

Stiles is squinting at the screen with intent and looking like he has forgotten that Derek said anything at all. Or that Derek is still hovering close by. Or that Derek, you know, exists.

Derek is just standing there, all difficult and awkward in his own fucking home and his own fucking body, looming over Stiles like a creeper as Stiles taps away furiously at the keyboard and violently zig-zags a fingertip across the mousepad like an actual lunatic.

Derek almost laughs at that.

The Boy Who Runs With Wolves.

“Why wouldn't I?” Stiles now asks, still mumbling around the chewed ballpoint Derek is trying not to be jealous of. 

“I—what?” Derek's caught off guard; always and only by Stiles. 

Stiles doesn't skip a beat, unlike Derek's heart. “Why wouldn't I ask?” he adds.

Oh, right.

“I, uh, I don't... ” Derek trails off pathetically, swallowing any confidence he had previously mustered and looking away from Stiles, even though those big, brown devastating eyes aren't actually looking at Derek because they are, of course, still zoomed-in on whichever web page is currently yielding the most information.

Dusk is quickly closing in and all around them and the light filtering through the loft's huge window has begun to dim somewhat, so that the glow of the computer screen is now filling Stiles' eyes with bright, dancing sparks and arrhythmic shapes as they flicker like lightning from one tab to another, then another, then another. And as mesmerising as it is to watch—Stiles looking as though he is brimming with magic—the sight becomes too much for Derek, and looking away feels like his only option.

It doesn't last.

Stiles' long, large-knuckled fingers still their rapid movement just as Derek's eyes find their way back.

Derek watches the kid some more, like a lifeline.

An anchor.

Then, Stiles is taking the pen from those perfect lips as sneaker-toes slowly spin the swivel chair around, so that Stiles is now facing Derek where he stands with arms crossed reactively over his chest.

His heart.

“I asked if you were alright because I wanted to know if you were okay, man," Stiles divulges, as if that's nothing at all. As if it's something Derek hears often. He tilts his head to catch Derek's eye, which works, of course, because it always works, no matter the nature of the moment they're caught up in. "Like, I was concerned, y`know?” 

Derek feels guilty just for looking. And not only because he wants to touch but because he wants to let Stiles care.

“I care, dude,” Stiles says on cue and Derek tries to self-implode while Stiles waits, probably for Derek to look at him and say don't call me dude and probably hoping not to have his head bitten off or his throat ripped out. 

Derek does look again, just not for long. Barely a glance. He can't afford himself too much Stiles, not when Stiles is looking directly back at him. It's safer that way—self-preservation and all.

“You do know that, right?” Stiles tries again. “That I care.” 

Derek wants to ask Stiles if they can talk, if Derek can tell Stiles things. Derek wants to ask Stiles if he'll stay, and if he'll let Derek spill his secrets, let him tell Stiles everything, like Derek never does with anyone these days, and if Stiles will hold Derek's hand when Derek cries about it, like Derek doesn’t allow himself to anymore. Derek wants to ask Stiles if Derek can touch him and hold him and if Stiles would hold him back, if Stiles would ever want that, if Stiles could ever be his.

“Don't call me dude,” is what he actually says because he can't not. But then he steals himself, head staticky and heart thumping as he dares himself to add (after what is undeniably too-long a pause), “And yeah. Maybe I do.” 

Then they look at each other. They just—look.

They look and look and look.

And they each keep looking at the other for a very long time. Definitely too long for two people supposedly not much more than acquaintances. Allies, maybe. Comrades at tenuous best.

Then they look for longer. Look for more. Look until it starts to feel as if they are the only two people in the room, in the building, in the world.

Whatever happened to self-preservation?

Something is starting to happen, and Derek is pretty sure it's not just happening to him, and he finds he is equally stunned as he is thrilled as he is completely fucking terrified about that. 

Eventually, Stiles says, “Derek, we're friends.” Then he's licking his lips and looking Derek up and down, shameless, adding—with a nonchalant shrug of one shoulder—“Till we're not.”

The latter part is spoken like a ominous secret, but one without the slightest hint of malice, because that's not how he means it. It's more promise than threat, if Derek is remembering correctly what genuine affirmations sound like (it's been a while).

The sparks from Stiles' eyes are then flashing blue in Derek's and Derek could swear he hears every every one of his neurons firing inside of himself, all at once, as each of his mutated cells flare into overdrive; nail beds and gums tingling, the short hairs on the back of his neck and arms and hands standing up on end.

He feels utterly alive.

It's honestly a struggle not to keen and whine like a pup, and Derek has truly never been more happy of the fact that Stiles is unable to scent chemo-signals because, oh, yeah, Derek would be so fucked right now.

He has a reply for Stiles but it's caught in his throat, the sentence forming then solidifying, fast as a quick-drying glue.

Derek is just—standing there. Statuesque. Alternating between trying to swallow his words down and attempting to speak them, like a first class dipshit. Just looking and looking and looking at Stiles.

In an entirely mortifying turn of events, it is actually the sound of Peter's low, mocking chuckle from some tucked-away shadowy place in the loft that is the thing that forces Derek unstuck, and it takes all Derek has to not roll his eyes to the back of his skull and growl out I'm going to kill you again now, Uncle. 

He takes a breath, un-clenches his fists and tries for a smile—or at least a hint of one. He doesn't want to freak the kid out.

Derek then manages to repeat Stiles's words back at him, no more than a whisper.

“Till we're not.”

Stiles is just looking and looking and looking at Derek, before he's asking, “Can I stay for the evening? You can talk to me while I research. I always work better with noise. It'll be soothing,” like he's ordering pizza instead of answering all of Derek's prayers.

Derek notes how the kid's usually erratic eye-contact is weirdly as unwavering as his usually erratic heartbeat, which is now weirdly steady as a metronome.

That's a lot of weird. 

Derek fights the urge to bite into his lip with his fangs. He wants to draw blood, and to taste it.

He embarrassingly feels his eye twitch and his breath hitch as he dares himself to do this. 

He sputters, “What do you want me to talk about?”

Stiles slowly swivels back towards the light of the laptop—ethereal milky skin and dark moles once again luminous in its white-blue glow—at the very same time as the evening's first moonshine peeks through clouds and seeps in through the loft's huge skylight.

Derek is memorised. 

Stiles starts annoyingly clicking away at the Clicking Pen, while shoving the other back between those beautiful lips of his, now mumbling his words around the thing once more and speaking them as if they are the most obvious thing in the universe.

“Everything, Der.”

.

for @poebin for asking <3 (unedited, soz)

[theemporium]

hey bestie, smut prompt 22 for stiles? 🙂

22. “can you feel what your doing to me”

.

It was an incredibly stupid plan—but then again, when wasn’t it when it came to the pack of Beacon Hills?

You couldn’t exactly remember what had led you into this situation, or how you and Stiles got the short-end of the stick to be volunteered into it. But what you did remember was Derek rambling about hunters having a sixth sense for supernatural beings in close vicinity so—as the only two humans in the pack—you and Stiles were thrown in the deep end. 

And now the deep end meant hiding in a really small closet whilst some of the deadliest hunters stood in the room just before you. 

“Can you stop moving? They will hear you rustling.” 

“I can’t!” 

“Oh my god.” 

You were pressed against the door, using a small crack to watch the hunters in the room. You couldn’t really hear what they were saying, but the tables of weapons spread out in front of them was intimidating enough. 

“I’m serious, stop wiggling,” Stiles hissed from behind you, letting out a heavy sigh. 

“Stiles, I can’t,” you hissed back at him. “If you move the hanger that is poking me, maybe I’ll fucking stop.” 

There was a pause before the boy spoke. 

“That’s not a hanger.” 

Your body tensed for a few moments as the boy’s words ran through your head, taking you a few moments to really process his words before you felt your cheeks heating up. 

“Stiles—” 

“I can’t control it,” he grumbled from behind you, letting out a small groan when you tried to move away again, only to push your ass further against him. “Fuck, don’t do that. Can you feel what you're doing to me?” 

“I’m trying to help!” you whisper-yelled under your breath.

“That’s the opposite of helping,” Stiles groaned into your ear, biting down on his lip. His hands found your waist, gripping it tightly in hopes of making you stay still. “Just…stop.”

Your heart was thundering in your chest, your lungs feeling like they were on fire and the last thing you should be focusing on was Stiles’ dick pressing into your ass when your lives were quite literally in danger. 

And yet, it was your only focus. 

Maybe you could blame it on the adrenaline pumping through your body at the risk of getting caught. Maybe you could blame it on a temporary lapse of judgement. Maybe you could even blame it on the crush you had been harbouring for the boy for ages.

Or maybe, you wouldn’t really need a reason as you pushed your ass back into him, rolling your hips against the bulge in his jeans. 

“Shit,” Stiles hissed through clenched teeth and gripped your waist harder. “What are you doing?” 

“Shhh, I’m just trying to help,” you murmured as your arms wound behind your, fingers tangled in his hair as he leaned against your shoulder. “Just keep quiet, Stiles.” 

“Fuck,” he moaned against your shoulder as he began to grind his hip against your ass, something about the action so needy and desperate, and yet it set your whole body on fire. 

Your hands dropped to cover his, slowly guiding them up until they were cupping your tits over your shirts, a pathetic whine leaving the boy’s lips as he continued to rut against your ass. It didn’t take long for muffled curses to leave his lips as he finally came. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he breathlessly chanted as you continued to circle your ass against him, even when he let out a small whine. “I-I can’t, it’s too much.” 

“Such a good boy, Stiles,” you whispered in the closet knowing you still had to find a way out before your luck ran out. “Such a good boy for me.” 

“Just for you,” he whispered, face nuzzled against the crook of your neck as he squeezed your tits, listening to the soft mewls you let out as you both desperately tried to keep your cover from being blown.

.

[distractedducky]

Ok, so I had an idea for a teen wolf fic I have neither the talent nor the time to write - so I’m putting it out into the world for those much more talented and motivated then me.

It’s kinda a 5+1 sounding idea about the fact that the wolves think stiles is weaker then he is. Not in a bad way, but in the way where they no longer know how to gage human strength and even though stiles looks like this

They forget that he is probably in better shape then almost any human around (not to mention in an fbi training programming).

So the basic idea is either stiles will be doing something that requires strength- like lifting bags of cement or fertilizer- moving/opening something- etc and a pack member will either come in and “help” him by assuming he was struggling. Or stiles pretends to struggle and then a pack member helps them only for when they leave for him to just effortlessly handle the rest.

I picture it either ending with stiles having to do something when the wolves are incapacitated- either funny like they lost their powers and stiles has to do a bunch of stuff they used to. Or serious like they are all in danger and stiles moves a thing previously thought to be too much for him.

Mostly I have this scene in my head of stiles moving into a new apt or something with someone from quantico and Derek or Scott won’t let him lift anything heavy . And while there doing that the other person who is human and knows stiles is strong just goes “ they do know you can bench press my body weight right” and stiles just grins.

Anyway, someone can do whatever with this. It can be any time line with any pack members, ships or no ships. Let it infect your brain like it has mine.

My only ask, is if this does inspire you to write something please tag me.

Have a great day

[hedwig221b]

Yes To Heaven

sterek | E | 85k | ao3

tags: A/B/O, Werewolves Are Known, Werewolf Alpha Derek Hale, Omega Stiles, Possessive Derek, Protective Derek, Everybody Wants Stiles Stilinski, omegas are VERY rare, Stiles Stilinski is Hot, Alcoholic Sheriff Stilinski, Bad Parent Sheriff Stilinski, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Knotting, minor cordia, POV Derek Hale, UST, Pining

Summary: Stiles ruined him. The damage was irreparable. He didn’t want the food that wasn’t made by Stiles or shared with him; the water tasted stale; the clothes were asphyxiating and scratchy; the air was wrong, wrong without Stiles’ scent in it.

Fuck, what was wrong with him? How could that pretty little thing change him so much? He had an iron grip on his control before, being in tandem with his instincts, but within weeks, all of it was gone. As soon as he thought of Stiles, though, of his scent, his moans, and the little wrinkle on his forehead as he orgasmed, his mind settled.

What was life before Stiles? Everything was somewhere far, far away, forgotten, bleak, and meaningless. Derek thought he knew what light was as he looked at the microscopic dots of the stars above. Then Stiles came into his life and showed him the sun.

💗 for my muse @hotgirlstiles

[heavensenthale]

heaven on your tongue but it's a hell of a rush

Fandom: Teen Wolf Relationship: Stiles/Derek Rating: Explicit Word count: 3.5k

Summary:

Stiles and Derek have been sleeping together for months now. They have wildly different ideas of where they are at their relationship. [Or, Friends With Benefits: Stiles and Derek Edition: the movie. fyi this is pure filth with a smidge of misunderstandings.]

Excerpt:

Stiles was so absorbed observing the people around him that he startled when Derek came up from behind him and put a hand on his waist, coming closer to whisper in his ear, “you look a little lost in the corner all by yourself.” “Has that line ever worked with anyone?” Stiles didn’t need to turn to know Derek was smiling. “I only need it to work with you,” Derek replied, moving his nose up the shell of his ear, his tongue following the movement. Then, lowering his voice even further, he added, “and I know it does.”

READ ON AO3

[star-girl-05]

Knight in Shining Armour

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

~★~❤︎~✦~

There were a hundred reasons why Stiles hates Theo Raeken. He’s a douche and on multiple occasions he has tried to kill his friends. Lately though his hatred for the man has grown, all because of you. More specifically the way Theo interacts with you. He’s always overly touchy with you, finding any excuse to touch you. Even going as far as whispering in your ear. The worst part is you let him do it. 

Stiles wants to be the only one allowed to be that close to you. To whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Instead you let Theo, and it takes everything in Stiles not to do something about it, scared you’d get mad at him. Tonight though that all changes…

Tonight is one of the few nights the pack is doing something normal teens do, Partying. Everyone’s just cutting loose, forgetting about all their responsibilities and just living in the moment. Of course just as they were having fun Theo has to show up souring everyone's mood. He only says a few words before disappearing into another room but his presence is enough to put everyone on guard, especially Stiles. 

While the others try to get back into a partying mood, Stiles is focused solely on Theo. Watching closely as he walks over to you, standing much too close for his liking. This time however instead of letting Theo stand close to you you're shoving him away earning a silent cheer from Stiles. However his smile quickly falls when he sees Theo roughly pull you back to him. 

Stiles moves on instinct making his way across the room to you. As he approaches Theo drops your arm rolling his eyes once Stiles is in front of him. 

“Are you okay?” Stiles asks immediately, concern evident in his voice. 

“Yeah I’m fine, Theo was just leaving” you set Theo with a glare making sure he got the message. Not that he ever does no matter how many times you tell him off he just comes back. 

“Oh come on Princess” he moves to reach you again but Stiles intervenes. Theo chuckles as Stiles stands in front of you, “Oh I see, you’re her knight in shining armour. Well when you get sick of this dumbass give me a call”, with a final smirk he walks away. 

You let out a breath of relief, before turning to Stiles. “Thank you, he just never listens” 

“This has happened before?” He looks so concerned, it warms your heart that he cares so much. 

“Yeah he’s always bugging me can never take no as an answer”  

“Well if he tries something again call me” you can’t help but chuckle a little, stepping closer to him. 

“Guess you really are my knight in shining armour”, Stiles blushes at your words, “Every hero deserves an award” he freezes as you lean in, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

“I- it was no problem” he stutters doing his best to try to seem like he wasn’t totally freaking out. 

“Come one my knight, let’s dance” you grab his hands leading him into the crowd of teens all dancing.

[stereksimp]

*It's the first night after the Void was captured. When Stiles wakes up screaming from a nightmare. He feels arms wrap around him and whispered words that he's safe now, but those are not his dad's arms or his voice. Is that a rumbling purr he hears?*

*When he opens his eyes, he's not in his room, where he fell asleep a few hours ago. He's standing in the middle of Derek's loft with said man hold him.*

Stiles: What is going on? Why am I here? How did I get here?

*The soft whispers of safty stop, but he does not release his arms or stop the purring.*

Derek: You were having a nightmare. I don't know why you're here, but for how you got here. Well, you popped in suddenly.

*Stile's heart rate is slowing down, and the smell of fear is being replaced by curiosity, so he lets the boy go and takes a step back.*

Stiles: What do you mean popped in suddenly? It doesn't feel like I walked all the way here, and I certainly did drive. Dad still has my keys.

Derek: No... you appeared here out of nowhere. You smell like magic, too.

Stiles: So I just what teleported in at 2 am. Wait, why were you awake to see me teleport in?

* He takes in Derek's appearance now. He has his shoes on and his patented leather jacket, and the keys to the Camaro are on the floor by his feet. At the sight, his heart rate starts racing again.*

Stiles: *a little frantic* Where are you going?

Derek: Nowhere.

Stiles: You are awake at 2 a.m., ready to walk out that door. *he bends down and grabs the keys, getting mad at Derek's blatant lie.* You were going to leave town, weren't you.

Derek: What. No. Ugh.

Derek: I was heading over to check on you, ok.

*Stiles' shoulders relax at that.*

Stiles: Oh. I should get back home then. Thanks for this.

*As he turns to leave Derek grabs his wrist lightly.*

Derek: You have no way to get home right now. Why don't you just sleep for a bit, then I'll take you home in the morning.

Stiles: ok, yeah, thanks.

*Before he makes I past Derek to head to the couch, Derek directs him over to the bed instead.*

Derek: You'll sleep better here.

*After Stiles lays down, Derek grabs a blanket and heads to the couch.*

*Stiles buries his head in Derek's pillows, and surprisingly, he is asleep in the next moment. Derek falls asleep listening to the calm, quiet breaths of Stiles sleeping.*

*In the morning, Stiles wakes up to voices talking. He lays there listening.*

Derek: I'm not sure, sir. He just appeared here last night after a nightmare, so I calmed him down and let him sleep here. I was going to bring him back after he woke up. If I may, how did you know he was here?

Sheriff: Oh. This isn't the first time I have found him here after he fell asleep at home. Back before you came back, I got a few calls from deputies at night about my son walking down the street in his pajamas. He was sleep walking, so I just had them follow him to make sure he stayed safe. Every time he came here. I would come find him sleeping in front of your door and bring him home. He never woke up, so he didn't know. It only happened a couple of times, so when I woke up for shift this morning and he wasn't in his bed, I just came here.

Derek: You should tell him. He deserves to know.

Sheriff: It's too soon. I'll just scared him.

Derek: Why don't you go to work and I'll make sure he gets home safely.

Sheriff: Thanks, Derek. Have him call me later.

*After the Sheriff leave Stiles sits up staring at the door.*

Stiles: You knew I was awake. Thanks.

Derek: *shrugs* You would only freak out more if you didn't have all the facts.

*Stiles smiles a bit for the first time in a while.*

[ily-tothecore]

more sterek fic recs - all completed

finally, some more sterek! enjoy :)

quiet perfection by hyperlittlenori - this is one of my favourite sterek fics ever, it's honestly one of the softest things i've ever read and it has me grinning from ear to ear every single time i read it. it's an AU with a deaf derek and a sign speaking stiles. they meet for the first time at the station and are instantly enamoured with each other. all i want is for this fic to become a series, i just want more of them.

chasing slumber by hyperlittlenori - another fic by this author! this is some of the most intense sterek smut i've ever read in my life, i literally forgot to breathe during it. the boys use sex to cope but it's a lot healthier than it sounds, i swear. there's also a lot of fluff, i love this one so much. this authors writing is immaculate.

from love not lust by hyperlittlenori - another one, i know! this one is just really simple and sweet. the boys fall in love through book annotations and it's so extremely soft. asexual derek is beautiful.

deaton's dream beans by thenerdnextdoor - a coffeeshop/bookstore AU! derek is a brooding hermit who owns a bookstore and stiles is an obnoxious but adorable barista who's trying to start a war with a rival coffee shop. this is such a fun story, with a tiny bit of angst and a whole lot of fluff. also, background thiam! i've read this multiple times, it's just so silly.

i ain't scared of your teeth by antisepticdork - stiles gets attacked by harpies, derek gets growly about it, they fall in like. this one is very much a 'monster of the week' fic, very chill and a bit goofy.

we've written volumes (in blood and scars and ink) by notthequiettype - stiles gets attacked by the alpha pack and derek nurses him back to health with a whole lotta werewolf healing mojo. solid banter, minor smut and a lot of fluff.

you saw me standing alone by orphan account - so obviously i like fics where stiles gets hurt and derek plays the sexy nurse, because here's another one! this is such a sweet fic, and the smut at the end is A+, slutty bottom derek is one of my favourite flavours of derek. he mewls, guys. mewls.

this is ridiculous by zosofi - a pining derek, a bloodthirsty, virgin killing unicorn and an oblivious, virginal stiles stilinski. this fic is so goofy and i love it.

warm shadows by stilinskisparkles - stiles gets hurt after another kidnapping and derek offers to help him out while he heals. a zero angst fic with some great banter and an evil peter hale thrown into the mix. these boys are so in love i wanna scream.

hear it in the silence by elisela - post season six fic where stiles and derek are best friends. stiles drags derek along on an impromptu road trip to escape the pressure of college and they realise they're in love along the way. such a romantic fic with top tier healthy communication, it's just a really beautiful story about falling in love with your best friend.

click here for part one of my sterek fic recs :)

[allovertheplaceficrecs]

Like The Sun After Ten Years of Rain by eeyore9990

When he was twenty five years old, John Stilinski fell in love at first sight. It's not a story he shares often -- Claudia's name alone is hard enough to speak these days -- but he thinks maybe it's time to tell it.

Because there's a werewolf on his front porch looking at his son the same way John used to look at Claudia.

Words: 1,804

This is just so adorable and well written. I just had to screenshot the last lines for future fic inspiration!!