#sterek prompt

[nrnyx]

Prompt: Can’t go wrong with a body swap scenario 

Thank you @imtryingandtired for the prompt! I hope you enjoy!

“Scott, we have a problem!” 

Scott's eyebrows did a thing that would have made Derek proud. “What? A bigger problem than the fact your body swapped with Derek.”

“I gotta pee,” Stiles rushed to say as he hopped from foot to foot. 

Scott's puppy face scrunched up with a mix of confusion and concern. “Why is that a problem? Does Derek have like a… medical condition? Does it burn or -”

“What, no! No!” Stiles cut in with a furious wave of his surprisingly soft but equally masculine hands. He lowered Derek’s voice even more so those in the next room wouldn’t hear him. “I just - what do I do, man? I have to, like, take it out and…”

“You mean you haven’t yet?” Scott asked in genuine surprise. 

“Of course, I haven’t, dumbass! What do you take me for? I would never take advantage of anyone's so very hot, like insanely hot and tempting body - temporarily mine or not.”

Scott threw up his hands in surrender. “Sorry! I’m sorry, I just - you haven't even looked?”

“No!” Stiles exclaimed, stomping Derek’s foot. “Help me!”

Scott looked around as if an answer was hiding somewhere. “I - I don’t know man, maybe asked Derek?”

“Ask Derek what?” Came Stiles's voice even though it wasn’t Stiles speaking. “What have you been doing to my body, Stiles?” It was amazing how Derek managed to make Stiles's eyebrows move in ways Stiles had never managed himself. He didn’t know his face could scowl like that. He didn’t know he had the muscles for it. 

Stiles, who was in Derek’s amazing body right now, closed his gorgeous eyes in defeat. Derek seriously had the longest eyelashes. He was never going to hear the end of this. 

Scott began to chuckle uncomfortably as he rubbed the back of his neck helplessly and waved a hand at Stiles. “That’s the problem he won’t do anything to it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Derek asked, crossing Stiles’s arms over his chest. It was so weird seeing Derek’s expressions on Stiles's face, although the stance was missing its usual impact due to the severe lack of big, beefy muscles to back it up.

Stiles pinched the bridge of - Derek’s perfectly symmetrical nose and decided just to bite the bullet or risk worse embarrassment if he didn’t figure out his dilemma soon. “I have to pee.”

Derek’s - Stiles's eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. “So go pee.” 

Stiles felt Derek’s all too tempting mouth fall open with his own shock. “I - I mean… it doesn’t bother you?” 

Stiles watched his own slender shoulders shrug, although Derek couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m more worried about the state of my bladder, to be honest. How long have you been holding it?” 

Stiles felt Derek’s cute ears go red in embarrassment, and wasn’t that a weird feeling? Now, not only did he know what Derek looked like when he blushed, but he knew how it felt as his adorable ears grew warm. “A while, I guess. I was trying to respect boundaries. I mean… I wasn’t sure - have you?” 

Stiles now knew what he looked like when he blushed. Was it always so obvious? 

“Oh,” Stiles said, feeling himself turn even redder, and he wondered if it was as visible on Derek’s darker skin as it was on his own pale skin. So Derek had touched his… Stiles couldn’t think about that right now, but it figured the first time another hand, even though it was technically his very familiar hand, had been on his dick, he wouldn’t be there to experience it. 

This was such a weird situation. 

It wasn’t like Stiles had anything to be embarrassed about. He was rather… endowed. It was sort of a thing he was known for, a rumor that followed him around school, even though he was still a virgin, so no one but the guys in the locker room could confirm it. 

Derek cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize it would be an issue. I’m sorry if I overstepped -“

“No! No!” Stiles protested before Derek could feel bad about it. If a guy had to pee, he had to pee. “I don’t have a problem with it. You’ve got full permission to do whatever you want with my body,” Stiles joked, trying to break the weird tension. He knew how much consent meant to Derek, which was why he’d been so hesitant in the first place. “I just thought that you might have an issue with me, uh… handling it.”

Derek just looked at him. “If you need permission, then this is me saying you can pee.” 

Stiles breathed a sigh as Derek’s big, broad, amazing shoulders sagged in relief. “Oh, thank god, do you maybe want to come help?”

“Are you asking me to hold it for you? With your hands?” Derek deadpanned, and did Stiles really look that bitchy when he was being sarcastic? He could see why people always felt the urge to hit him.

“I - I Just mean, do you?”

Derek looked at him with exasperation. “Stiles, go pee!” 

Stiles jumped into action. “Yeah, okay, do you like… want to come with -” 

“Stiles!” 

[renmackree]

Stiles realizing that when he's bonded to Derek, Derek can feel every emotion the human is thinking and feeling.

So at dinner, Stiles just thinking the raunchiest, dirtiest things he wants done to him while Derek is trying to hold it together in front of Noah Stilinski.

Works everytime.

[mastercherry]

Another one for my Sterek friends.

Way Back Wednesday to a fic idea I had called The Returned. Established Relationship, most of the pack is alive AU. Where (trigger warning for tempory major character death) Stiles gets killed. I believe I had it by some other wolves.

Anyways, don't worry, he doesn't stay dead. He wakes up underground, having been buried at his funeral, and he has no idea what's happening or what's going on. Context clues tell him, at least, that he died. He's in the cemetery, next to his mom. He's wearing his Funeral Suit. He dug himself out of his own grave....

That tells him that he doesn't know where to go. His dad thinks he's dead. His friends, Scott, Kira, Lydia... everyone.

Derek....

So he goes to the only place he can really think to go- Deaton's.

He spooks the vet a little bit. But the man eventually says he thinks he knows what's happened to Stiles. He's come back as a Returned.

"Don't you remember the most powerful magic in the world, Stiles?"

And Stiles has to roll his eyes because yeah, he remembers. Love.

So basically love can be strong enough to bring people back from the dead. Stiles struggles to believe that because if it were true then his mother would have come back. But that's not how it works. Love needs a boost for it to work. A spark, if you will. And Stiles is that spark for the Hale pack. For Beacon Hills. Even the Nemeton. All of that converged together to bring him back. To return him.

Idk, I haven't fully hashed out the details. But basically, he's brought back from the dead. Everything is fine except normal food is inedible to him. He can only eat gross rotting and dead stuff. Which is really gross and he doesn't want to do it. But if he doesn't then he will eventually fade back away.

It's angsty and dramatic but also has a warm fuzzy ending and stuff. Idk. Yeah.

[hedwig221b]

Hi hi! I’m SO excited you’re taking prompts! You’re on my favorite sterek authors!! Prompt: Stiles is a few months pregnant with their second child and Eli, he’s maybe 4 or 5, is making his day very difficult and it all boils to a point where Eli tells Stiles that he hates him. Stiles takes it to heart and doesn’t know what to do with himself while Derek tries to reason with him “Stiles, he’s 5 years old, of course he doesn’t hate you”

sorry for making you wait 84 years, anon

Eli was a smart boy.

Of course, he was, with Stiles’ brain and werewolf superior genes his and Derek’s child couldn’t be anything but amazing. He was four and a half but could already read his favorite tale — a werewolf-friendly retelling of the Little Red Riding Hood. There was a brief period when all he would read was this tale, and no amount of Stiles’ whining could sway him.

The stubbornness came from Derek, for sure.

And lately, something changed in Eli’s attitude. It was gradual and not something Stiles noticed at first. Eli was healthy and bubbly and happy most of the time, a perfect overly energetic and curious child, but sometimes he just gave Stiles this studying, almost suspicious, long stare and pursed his little button nose, as if thinking very hard about something.

Today was one of those days.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Stiles chirped and happily received a quick goodbye kiss from his gorgeous, fantastic, but, alas, busy husband.

Derek stroked Stiles’ belly and smiled upon receiving a mischievous kick, then turned to look at Eli, who watched both of them very carefully.

“Say goodbye to Daddy, pumpkin,” Stiles grinned at him.

“Bye, Daddy,” Eli murmured, frowning a little.

Derek chuckled. “Are you sleepy still?” Eli shook his head, prompting his dad to catch his hand and tug him toward himself.

“Love you,” Derek said and smacked a kiss on Eli’s cheek, which, thankfully made him giggle.

“Love you, too,” Eli answered a bit more cheerfully, glanced at Stiles and ran away into the living room to take the TV-remote hostage for his morning cartoon time.

“Are two of you bickering again?” Derek arched an eyebrow.

“No. I don’t know, have to investigate,” Stiles sighed.

“Good luck.”

*

“Tata?”

“Hmm?”

Upon not receiving any answer, Stiles put the plate gently back into the soapy water and turned his head. Eli had somehow managed to sneak into the kitchen unnoticed and now stood right beside Stiles. His little hands clutched the TV-remote, as he picked at one of the buttons.

Eli looked up at Stiles with a slight frown. “I love you.”

Stiles lifted his eyebrows, but despite the surprise, the smile still tugged his lips up.

“I love you, too, honeybun,” he chuckled.

Eli continued staring at him, as if waiting for something.

“Everything okay?” Stiles asked slowly after some time, keeping his voice light. “Want some snacks?”

“No,” the child muttered, turned around and went back into the living room.

Stiles stared after him. Thoughts started buzzing in his mind, as he cataloged everything that might have happened. When he eventually came up with nothing, Stiles left the dishes, wiped his hands and tottered into the living room.

The TV was on, but Eli was staring down at the remote, picking the same button, with a pout on his face. Stiles walked to the couch, biting his lip, and sat down, swinging an arm around Eli’s small shoulder and tucking him into his side.

“Pumpkin, what’s the matter?”

“No matter.”

“Then what’s with the long face?”

Eli looked up at him. “Do you love me?”

The question made Stiles freeze, because he told Eli about his love every single day. Did he not believe him?..

Stiles’ heart sped up uncomfortably. “Of course I do, sweetheart,” he stroked Eli’s wavy chestnut hair. “Why do you ask? Did I do something wrong?”

Eli, however, stared at him. Finally, after not getting whatever he was waiting for, the pup chucked the remote down on the floor.

“Eli!”

But his little wolf was already running to the stairs.

Stiles cursed, as he slowly stood up and hurried as fast as he could, keeping a calming hand on his bump.

“Eli!”

“No! If you hate me then I hate you, too!” a small distant voice echoed through the hall.

Huffing and puffing, Stiles climbed up after him, but was greeted with a closed door. Suddenly, he had so much respect for his dad and his, as it turned out, never-ending patience.

Despite Eli’s cranky efforts from the other side, Stiles managed to squeeze through, which made Eli growl.

“Hey, mister, no growling at Tata,” Stiles pointed his finger at the pup, but Eli didn’t listen. He jumped on his bed and hid under the covers. “I’ve never said I hated you, Eli. Where did that come from?”

Eli stayed silent, just wiggled a bit to get comfortable.

“Eli, sunshine…” Stiles begged.

“No.”

“Come out, pretty please?”

“No!”

“Okay,” Stiles muttered under his breath. It was one of those stubborn episodes, then. The pup needed to chill.  “Okay, you stay there and calm down and think about what you said. I don’t hate you and…”

“You hate me!” Eli snuck out of the covers; his hair was mussed up and his face was red, whether it was from anger or from sadness. “Daddy loves me, and you not!”

“I do.”

“Do not!”

Then Stiles remembered he was arguing with a four-year-old. He couldn’t not argue, though — his child had somehow got into his little head that his Tata hated him and that was downright illegal for him to think.

With something heavy and bitter forming in his throat (damn those fucking hormones) Stiles went downstairs, picked up his phone and called his savior, his anchor and sometimes his only voice of reason.

“Yes, baby?”

“He hates me,” Stiles sniffled.

Derek went silent for a couple of moments. “… no, he doesn’t.”

“But he said so,” god, now his voice was wobbling. Great.

“He is four, Stiles. He also swore to both of us he saw his dinosaurs move at night. He doesn’t hate you.”

Stiles swallowed and blinked rapidly. “It’s just… I can’t believe he thinks that.”

Elias was his son, his baby boy, his sunshine. He was a miracle — one he and Derek didn’t even know they could have. It was a total surprise from non-other than Stiles’ spark magic. The greatest gift of a lifetime. Eli could literally do nothing wrong in his eyes.

Derek sighed over the phone, hearing his stuttered breathing. “Can both of you make it to lunch? I’ll come home and make him talk.”

“Okay,” Stiles answered, breathing out in relief.

Derek will make everything okay. He always did.

*

Upon arriving home, the werewolf kissed Stiles on the cheek and went straight upstairs.

Stiles looked up after him, but after not hearing anything went to sit on the sofa. The remote somehow found its way into his hands; it took him a couple of absent minutes to realize he was picking at it, which made him immediately throw it aside.

At last, his anxiety-inducing depressive thoughts were interrupted by a sound of steps.

Stiles swiveled his head. Derek was walking down the stairs with Eli nestled in his arms. His poor baby was clutching at Derek’s shoulders; his face was pink and — Stiles’ heart jumped — wet with tears.

Apart from that, though, he was smiling.

Unable to understand anything even the slightest bit, Stiles turned his pleading gaze to his mate, who was also smiling softly.

“Eli and I had just found out,” Derek sat down on the couch with Eli still in his hands, “that you are a little silly, Tata.”

Stiles blinked at them. Eli giggled.

“Wh— I mean, of course, I am, but why?”

Derek tsked playfully and leaned to whisper into their son’s ear. “See, pup? Completely clueless.”

“Queue-s,” Eli giggled again.

“Shall we show him?” Derek asked and, after Eli nodded, turned to Stiles. “I love you.”

“I love you, too?” Stiles arched his eyebrows.

Derek leaned down and kissed him lightly on the cheek, then turned to Eli. “And I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Eli said with a grin and squeezed his eyes shut as Derek smooched him on the cheek.

Derek then turned to Stiles and lifted an exasperated eyebrow at him. “Now your turn, Tata.”

Stiles blinked at both of them. “I love you, Eli,” he said slowly.

“Love you, too, Tata,” said Eli and, as usual, waited for something.

And oh. Oh.

Stiles was really very silly.

He quickly cupped his son’s full pink cheeks and descended upon each of them with loud kisses. Finally, finally Eli blessed him with a bright laugh.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Stiles sniffled, taking his pup in a tight embrace and closed his eyes when he felt tiny hands wrap around his neck. Eli gave him a soothing pat (just like Stiles did to him sometimes), making him laugh.

“Do not forget it many more, Tata,” Eli leaned away and made a fake scowl at him, shaking his finger in Stiles’ face. “You say love you and you kiss me.”

“I won’t forget, sweetheart.”

Eli nodded to himself and laid his head back on Stiles’ shoulder, satisfied with his lesson.

Stiles looked up at Derek with glistening eyes. The wolf chuckled and swiped a thumb against his cheek.

It was the unsaid, undiscussed ritual, so old and automatic, it became an instinct: when one of them was leaving somewhere, they made sure to say ‘I love you’ and seal it down with a kiss. In child’s uncomplicated brain this declaration of love always went in pair. After all, he’d seen it so many times from his parents. So it’s no wonder he got confused, when all he received was ‘I love you’.

Never more will his child spend a day without a kiss.

Blinking left-over tears from his eyes and softening under the gaze of his mate, Stiles put his lips against the soft skin of Eli’s neck and blew a giant raspberry.

Eli screeched in giggles, trying to squirm out of his hold.

Their home was filled with laughter once again. As it always should be.

[dereles]

Okay but have you considered Stiles’ dad getting shot earlyish in canon, he needs pretty extensive surgery, they don’t know if he’s going to live and Stiles is sitting there alone, shaking apart in the waiting room.

Derek sits down next to him without a word, listens in to the surgery, and calmly tells Stiles exactly what’s going on. He tells Stiles exactly what the doctors are saying to eachother, even when it’s looking bad, stops Stiles from pulling his hair out and stays with him for hours through the whole thing. During a pause, Stiles asks why he’s doing this, and Derek tells him I know what it’s like, not being sure if you’ll have any family left. And that’s the moment Stiles starts to see Derek for who he really is.

(Derek gets to tell him that his dad is going to be okay, lets Stiles collapse into him with relief, feels Stiles’ thank you thank you thank you against the skin of his neck. Derek says it’s the doctors you should be thanking, and Stiles is quiet for a moment before he whispers yeah, but thank you for not making me do this alone.)

[hiseyebrowsaregone]

Sterek Prompt 5

(Alive hales AU)

Stiles: I think your family liked me?

Derek: all of my siblings and cousins begged me to marry you as soon as you left.

<<1 | <4 | 6>

[sterekpromptmeme]

Introducing the Sterek Prompt Meme

Do you have a Sterek fic idea that needs to be written?

Do you want to write something, but find yourself struggling for inspiration?

The Sterek Prompt Meme is the place for you!

The prompt meme is open to all Sterek fans! Maybe you're a writer with some fic ideas that you're not going to use, or you'd like to see somebody else's take on. Maybe you don't write, but you have some ideas that you've been dying to read. The Prompt Meme is open for everyone to come and submit whatever Sterek prompts they want to see written!

This is an ongoing event with no deadlines, and there's no obligation to write anything if you submit a prompt (or two, or twenty!) The idea is to share your ideas with the hope that writers will see them and be inspired enough to write them.

If you're a writer who's looking for a bit of inspiration, the Prompt Meme is the perfect place to come and see if anything starts firing up those creative juices, with the added bonus that you'll make some lucky prompter's day by bringing their idea to life!

The whole point of this event is to bring Sterek fans together to share ideas, inspire each other and get more Sterek fics out into the world. What could be better?!

Submit a prompt, claim a prompt, share the Sterek love 💖

[arlos-warm-drpepper]

I love fics from stiles pov where stiles is just completely in the wrong 100%. Misunderstanding fics where it’s 100% stiles fault and we get to hear his inner monologue about it? Love it

[tarlosmalec]

I liked one YouTube short on figure skating and now my entire feed is full of it.

It makes me crave some Sterek fanfic where one or both of them are figure skaters.

Imagine—

Stiles and Derek are the only ones left in the figure skating class and had to pair up. It was chaotic at first, with Stiles being clumsier than a baby deer and Derek being both annoyed and amazed at him (because no matter what, Stiles never gave up). He decides to lend a hand and as time passes, they turn to be the best pair in the entire class. If they go on to win some championships, then that’s just a proof of their compatibility and commitment.

[sterek8nights]

Our Future In These Photographs

Another Hanukkah fic!

For the Sterek8Nights Bingo squares: gift exchange, combining, family

on ao3 here

Please check out the prompts and the bingo card and join me in Hanukkah-ing Sterek!

____

Derek looked around the store forlornly. Nothing here was right, and he was starting to panic. Hanukkah started in three days, and he still didn’t have anything for Stiles.

So, he did what he usually did when he had a problem he needed help with and he couldn’t call Stiles: he called Stiles’ dad, and texted Boyd.

“Still can’t think of what to get him, huh?” John answered in lieu of a greeting, and Derek groaned. The man may be the actual Sheriff, and his kind of father-in-law, but it was often irritating how much he noticed.

“No. And I am this close to just giving him my credit card and setting him lose at that little occult shop on Denton that has the actual magic stuff in the basement,” Derek not-quite whined.

John chuckles, and even though Derek’s annoyed, the sound is comforting in its familiarity. “As much as he’d enjoy that, I’m not sure that your bank account, or his bookshelves, really need to take that hit, son.” 

It’s Derek’s turn to laugh then. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

That’s when he sees it, tucked under a little stack of sweaters, clearly discarded by a customer that couldn’t be bothered to return it to its proper place. A silver picture frame with intricate designs set into the metal. Derek snatches it up and says a hasty goodbye to John, citing an epiphany and barely catching the “Good luck, kid,” that he tacks on before Derek hangs up and shoves his phone into his pocket.

After a quick stop at his family’s vault, and another to the Stilinksi residence, he rushes home, glad to beat Stiles there, and hurries to his office to wrap his gifts.

***

The first night of Hanukkah is spent with John at his house, with just the three of them, starting the week off with a relative calm before various combinations of friends and co-workers, and the pack all invade Derek and Stiles’ house for the other days.

After lighting the menorah, and eating the latkes they had all made together, they head to the living room to exchange gifts, Derek and Stiles give John a trip for the three of them to see the Mets and a stay in a really nice hotel for a few days. He tries to protest, but Stiles has already arranged the time off for him, so he hugs them both and starts talking about what else they can do while they’re in New York.

John commits to what he insists are “traditional Hanukkah gifts”, and gives them both packages of novelty socks and matching t-shirts with photo realistic wolves howling at the moon on the front. Stiles cackles and hugs his dad even as he complains about not being a kid anymore, but John waves his protests off. “You know how this works, kid. Socks are tradition! I just picked a package at random, you could’ve just as easily gotten an art kit, or something surprising!” he defends with a smirk, knowing that they all not-so-secretly find it hilarious to get three or four nights of “useful” presents amid all the rest.

“At least it’s not underwear,” Derek jokes, only for Stiles to look him in the eye and waggle his eyebrows in a way that never fails to make Derek feel fond, even though it’s objectively ridiculous.

“Maybe not from dad,” Stiles replies, making Derek blush, eyes darting furiously to John, and then back to Stiles.

John groans, loud and long-suffering. “That’s more than I need to know, son,” he complains good naturedly, tossing the balled-up wrapping paper from his gift at Stiles and hitting him square on the nose. After a few moments of shared laughter and a brief wrapping paper war, John announces it’s time for the two of them to exchange their gifts.

Stiles scrambles to grab his box, wrapped in shimmery blue and surprisingly heavy for its size when Stiles sets it in Derek’s hand. He watches expectantly as Derek unwraps it carefully. Inside the box are two stones; one is about half the size of Derek’s palm, the other is quarter-sized and on a necklace, they’re both practically glowing, and Derek realizes it’s the same shimmer the wrapping paper had.

“They carry the most powerful protection spell I could find,” Stiles explains. “The big one, you bury in your yard and it will keep the house and a good amount of the surrounding forest safe. The small one you wear,” he says, wrapping his hands around Derek’s. “As a bonus feature, if you hold the pendant, it sends a little buzz to me through my spark, so you can tell me you’re thinking of me, or hold it longer, and it’s like the Bat-signal signal.”

Derek manages a slightly awed smile as he looks up at Stiles from where he was watched they tangled hands, and a “I love it, thank you,” that’s a little more choked up than he’d like to admit before Stiles pulls him close for a brief, chaste kiss.

“You’re welcome. Happy Hanukkah, Der,” Stiles says into the small space between them. “Now where’s mine?” he asks with mock-seriousness, successfully resetting the mood.

Derek scoffs and rolls his eyes, as is expected of him, and carefully hands Stiles his meticulously wrapped box.

Stiles is not a careful-unwrapper, but he takes his time with this one, maybe he picked up on Derek and John’s excitement.

When the wrapping paper is off, Stiles looks between Derek and John quizzically, his fingers hovering over the edges of the outer box. “What did you two do?” Stiles asks, eyes narrowing.

John puts both hands up in a calming gesture, but Derek barks out an anxious “Open it,” and then immediately regrets it when they both look at him like he’s lost his mind. Derek huffs out a laugh and ruffles his own hair. “Sorry. I was really anxious about what to get you; your dad helped when I figured it out.”

Stiles grins wide. He loves that his dad and his boyfriend get along so well. He is also insanely curious about what’s in the box.

He lifts the lid off the box and runs delicate fingers over the tissue paper folded over the contents, peeling it away slowly. Once it’s out of the way, Stiles gasps, a hand flying to his mouth.

Inside the box are two not-quite identical silver frames. 

In one, is a picture of Stiles, John, Derek, Cora, and Peter with the rest of the pack, on the giant porch at Stiles and Derek’s house. In the other, is a similar picture, except it’s on the porch at the old Hale house, and the pack in the picture is Derek’s family. Derek is maybe three years old, Peter barely a teenager, and Cora and Stiles are technically there, too, because in the middle of the photograph are Talia and Claudia, both very pregnant, with their arms thrown around each other. John is on the other side of Stiles’ mom, absolutely beaming at the camera.

Stiles looks up at Derek and his dad, eyes wet with unshed tears. He knew that his parents were friends with the Hales, had seen the occasional photo – mostly in boxes of his mother’s things in the attic – but he’d never seen this specific picture before, never a picture of him and Derek together, because the Hales had distanced themselves when John got promoted at the Sheriff’s department, not wanting him to have to lie about the supernatural in any official capacity, so they’d missed out on being in each other’s lives until they met again as teenagers.

“Der,” Stiles whispers, tracing the edges of the frames.

“I found that frame, the newer one, and I remembered a similar one from the vault that I’d seen years ago. With that picture. It, uh. It didn’t mean anything at the time, it was so long ago, but I brought it here, and your dad told me a little about that time–”

“There’s an envelope in the box, with some things your moms both wrote, and some I wrote out,” John interrupts gently. Derek nods at him gratefully.

Stiles has the envelope out and open before his dad finishes speaking, not exactly reading, more just tracing the shape of his mom’s handwriting, taking in the curl of Talia’s and John’s neat, tight lettering. He looks up again, carefully placing the precious papers back in the box, and half launching-half falling into Derek’s arms. Derek wraps his arms around Stiles without having to think about it.

“I love you,” Stiles says into Derek’s neck.

“I love you, too,” Derek replies mostly into Stiles’ shoulder.

Stiles spreads out one arm towards his dad and waves his hand around. “Come here, Pops, get in on this family hug STAT,” he demands, slightly muffled from how he hasn’t quite turned his head out of Derek’s neck. John obliges with minimal grunting and groaning about being too old to be on the floor, and Derek and Stiles tug him into the hug, all of  them a little sniffly. “Love you, dad. Thank you.”

“Aw, hell, kid, I love you, too,” John replies, “Have I told you recently that you did alright with picking that Hale kid to marry?” he teases.

“We’re not married, dad.”

“Yet,” Derek corrects, and Stiles pulls away quickly, only managing to avoid whacking Derek and his dad with his head because of Derek’s reflexes.

“Yet?!” he squwaks. When Derek only shrugs, he adds “Derek Hale, if you are planning on making me cry again this Hanukkah, I am going to be so mad at you.”

John laughs, knowing full well that Stiles has a ring and a whole plan for sometime before New Year’s. Derek though? Derek pulls Stiles back in, says “I promise, no more crying presents,” and wracks his brain for what to get for Stiles for the next seven nights.

Maybe he can move up his proposal plan?

[zupyasstuff]

Midnight Rain is so Sterek Coded

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain

He wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

being Stiles as “Sunshine” meanwhile Derek is “Midnight rain”

[nrnyx]

PROMPT: How about Derek and Stiles meeting at a dog adoption event and falling in love over the same dog.

Thank you @steelcodewolf-blog for the prompt!

Stiles ran up to the counter and slammed his application down. “For Sparky!” he gasped out of breath as he’d just sprinted the entire mile to the adoption agency after his jeep broke down. It was finally the day. Stiles was free of his lease agreement and moving into a pet-friendly apartment. He could have a dog - his dog because he’d been visiting Sparky for months now after seeing his cute picture online. 

The animal shelter staff held Sparky as long as they could for him, but he’d been warned that today was their big adoption fair, and Sparky would be part of the group being pushed hardest for adoption. Sparky had already been with them for nearly a year before Stiles showed up, and before that, poor Sparky had been shipped from another shelter in New York. The shelter couldn’t hold him if someone wanted to adopt him. 

Stiles hadn’t been too worried. One of the reasons Sparky was still around was because he was a rather large and somewhat alarming German Shepard mix that might have actually been a wolf-dog, but the shelter didn’t have the funds to test his genetics, to be sure. Sparky had never been aggressive or tried to attack anyone. He was a chill dog that loved belly rubs, so he remained up for adoption. 

The staff even said that Stiles was the only person Sparky had ever shown an interest in. Sparky didn’t really like toys, wasn’t interested in other dogs or attention of any kind really, but he liked Stiles. The staff said he already knew the sound of Stiles's jeep and only ever bothered barking to alert them that Stiles was coming. Stiles adored the old grump right back and had visited him at least once every few days with the hopes that no one else would take notice of just how awesome Sparky was. 

Being a newly graduated college student and an intern with the FBI didn’t exactly bring in the big bucks yet, so Stiles had to wait for his lease to be up in order to find a new place to live that allowed pets. He’d managed to scrape up enough extra money for the rather hefty pet deposit and had Sparky a new bed, food, and dog tags waiting for him in the jeep, which they would have to walk back to, but he was sure Sparky would like the chance to stretch his legs.

It was going to be awesome.

Martha’s face fell as soon as she realized it was him, and Stiles felt his heart falling right along with her look of pity. “Stiles…” she started, but Stiles didn’t give her time to finish.

“Where’s Sparky? Please tell me you didn’t give him to some stranger off the street! I’ve been coming in for months!” Stiles protested in disbelief. How could they betray him? He thought they were all rooting for him and Sparky. He’d told them he would be in by the end of the day. They promised that even if someone tried to adopt, they wouldn’t let Sparky leave the same day. They’d make an excuse to hold him as long as they could for Stiles.

“I’m so sorry, Stiles. I know how excited you’ve been. This must be so heartbreaking for you, but his dad showed up,” the woman explained with actual tears in her eyes. 

Stiles couldn’t find his voice. That had been the last thing he’d expected to hear. “His dad?” he finally managed to get out. “His dad?”

“Yes, he had proof -” 

“He lost him! He lost him for over a year, and you’re just going to let him walk in and take him! Just like that? Clearly, the guy wasn’t a responsible dog parent to begin with. I mean, what kind of evidence did this guy have?”

“Uh Stiles…” Martha tried to interrupt, but Stiles was on a roll. There was no way Sparky was going anywhere with anyone but him. 

“Because photos can be photoshopped, and videos can be falsified. I know! I work for the FBI. Who is this guy? I want to see some I.D. and this so-called evidence. No one is leaving here with Sparky until I hear this assholes side of the story because there’s no way Sparky - ”  

“Jacks,” a male voice spoke up from beside him, and Stiles was momentarily left speechless as he turned and caught sight of, frankly, the most attractive guy he’d ever seen in his entire life, and he’d gone to school with Jackson Whittmore. 

“Holy shit, adopt me,” Stiles mumbled before his brain-to-mouth filter could catch up.

The guy's eyebrows did something impressive. “What?” 

“What?” Stiles asked back equally as dumbfounded. Honestly, he was just as surprised as anyone at what came out of his mouth sometimes. 

“Stiles, uhh… meet Sparky’s…  I’m sorry. I mean Jacks’s dad, Derek Hale,” Martha introduced as Stiles's big brain tried to get back online. “Apparently, Jacks was stolen about a year ago. His dad’s been looking for him ever since. He tracked him down here all the way from New York. Crazy, right?” Martha laughed nervously as she looked between the two.

Stiles eyed Derek Hale for a long moment and already felt himself accepting this new disappointing reality. The guy looked like Sparky’s dad. They both had a certain wolfishness about them that was undeniable. Honestly, Derek Hale had to be the most dedicated dog dad in the world to have tracked his lost dog all the way across the continent. 

Stiles felt himself deflating. “I’m glad you guys are reunited. I’m sure Sparky - I mean Jacks is pumped to see you again.”

Derek fished his phone from his pocket and turned it so Stiles could see the screen saver, which was truthfully the most adorable picture of the two together and obviously happy. “After he was taken, it took me a while to track him down. I found out that a shelter in New York shipped him to the West Coast, thinking he’d have a better chance of being adopted, but they couldn’t tell me where he ended up. I started checking shelters in Washington and was working my way down the coast when I saw an ad for today’s event. Jacks picture was part of it.”

“I’m glad you found him,” Stiles offered again, unable to look at the guy as he said it even though he did mean it. He couldn’t even get that kind of dedication out of a boyfriend. This guy was like a superhero or something. “Cool, well I gotta go…” 

Derek opened his mouth to say something, but Jimmy from the back was calling for him. Stiles knew Jimmy was the one who typically got the adopted dogs ready and brought them out to greet their new owners. He needed to get out of there. Stiles didn’t think he could say goodbye to Sparky- well, Jacks, which was a much more suitable and dignified name, he supposed. 

Derek, with his man stubble and leather jacket, looked like a guy who would own a dog named Jacks. 

More proof that they fit together.

While Derek was distracted, Stiles slipped away, shoulders slumped as he started the long walk back to his jeep. About halfway there, a familiar bark froze him in his tracks. Stiles turned just in time to see a black pickup slowing down to a stop beside him. The passenger window was down, and Jacks's big head was sticking out of it. 

“Do you live around here?” Derek called from the driver's side as he leaned out of the way of Jack’s aggressively thumping tail. 

Jacks whined, and Stiles immediately reached out to soothe him, running a hand over his massive ears and scratching how he knew Jacks liked. This earned him a great big lick across his face in return. Stiles laughed, swatting playfully, but Jacks only pushed closer, beginning to lick Stiles in earnest.

“That’s amazing. The shelter told me about you visiting him. I didn’t believe them at first. Jacks has never taken to… well, anyone else really,” Derek spoke up again, amusement clear in his voice as Stiles tried to fend off all the affection being lavished on him. Jacks had never been quite this excited to see him either, but it was a very welcome shift after the heartbreak he’d been feeling a moment ago. 

At least Stiles knew Jacks would miss him too. “Yeah, me and him… we kind of bonded while he was waiting on you.” Stiles shrugged in reply taking a small step back and almost giving in again when Jacks whined in protest.

Derek glanced at Jacks, before reaching out and patting him on the back in a reassuring way. “They said he was pretty depressed before you came around. Wasn’t eating much or leaving his kennel,” Derek explained. Stiles hadn’t known that part, but he was glad he helped Jacks until Derek found him. It was at least some comfort he could take home with him.

“I should uh… get back to my jeep,” Stiles said, pointing his thumb in the direction he was walking. 

As much as he liked seeing Jacks he really wanted to get home and have a good cry in private. Not only was he losing Jacks, but Jacks owner happened to be an insanely hot guy right out of Stiles's fantasies and entirely out of his league. It just reminded Stiles of exactly how lonely he was these days. Loneliness and his last breakup had been the whole reason Stiles was on the shelter’s page looking at adoptable dogs in the first place. 

“It’s parked a little down the road. I need to call a tow,” Stiles felt the need to explain, hoping his ears weren’t as red as they probably were. It was a bit embarrassing, but the jeep had been his mom’s, and he only had a few more years as a lowly FBI intern before he could afford to get it fixed properly. Maybe he could get his pet deposit back. That would help pay for the tow truck he was going to need to call. 

 Derek leaned over to unlatch the door. “Hop in. I’ll drive you down there and take a look. I’m a mechanic.”

Stiles couldn’t help how his mouth fell open. Could this guy be any more perfect? The only thing that would be better was if he were - 

“And maybe you’ll let me and Jacks take you to dinner… you know, as a thank you for looking out for him.” Derek sent him a wolfish smile that had probably seduced the panties off of hundreds of college co-eds back in his day. Stiles wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he could now be bunched into that category. 

“Uhh yeah okay…” Because what else was he going to say. Jacks moved over a bit to give him room, and as soon as Stiles settled, he had a lap full of wolfdog. 

Derek threw his head back and laughed. “Doesn’t look like he’s going to be letting you leave so easily.”

Stiles cleared away the lump in his throat and buried his face in Jacks soft fur. “I don’t mind.”

[swmoldacc]

For the prompt post: “Are you sure about this?”

I don't know if you wanted a requested pairing, but you write three of my favs so.. dealer's choice.

The words, ‘Are you sure about this?’ still ring heavily in Stiles’ ears. They’re shortly followed by an eye roll from a very gruff-looking Alpha and, ‘Yes, Stiles, I’m sure. Now get out there, you got this.’

He, in fact, did not have it.

It being the rough and tumble he had to endure whilst training with the wolves. Scott may have pulled his punches and linebacker tackles, but he was still a solid mass of supernatural vigor and after two, count them, two pile drives to the gut, Derek finally heeded the standard rule of tap-outs and let Stiles sit out the next few rounds.

He was busy cleaning up a bloody nose in the bathroom when Derek came up behind him a few minutes later. He could hear the rest of the pups still training outside through the small open window above the shower stall. It was a nice day outside, the sun high in the sky, a chill breeze whirling through the trees.

Stiles would have rather spent it inside, but he’d been dragged out of the house with the promise of coffee and breakfast foods. He had no idea he’d be duped into training with the pack on Derek’s old family land afterward.

He’d rebuilt the house one summer, after selling the loft and purchasing the land back. Stiles had helped when he could, but most of the time he’d defer to the pack who had the super strength and fortitude to build such a big estate.

This bathroom was on the first floor and mainly used for guests, but it was one of five sprinkled around the large house, usually between rooms save for the master bath in Derek’s room.

Stiles had never been inside that one.

“Did you know that tilting your head back during a nosebleed doesn’t really stop the bleeding?” Stiles asked amidst shoving tissues up his nostrils. Most of the flow had stopped by now but the sink looked like a massacre had occurred in it.

Derek leaned against the door frame, tucking one arm under the other. He’d decided to wear a gray muscle shirt today and Stiles had to stop himself from staring too long on many occasions. He couldn’t help but look now as he stared at Derek through the mirror, though.

“Nope,” Derek shrugged.

“Right,” Stiles nodded, rolling his eyes and regretting it a second later when it made his nose hurt. “I forgot, you magically heal within seconds. Do you even get nosebleeds?”

“Occasionally,” Derek gruffed.

Stiles had to resist the urge to roll his eyes again. “Cool, so-” He turned around, leaning back against the edge of the sink. “What’s up? Shouldn’t you be watching them?”

Derek glanced toward the open window and back again to Stiles. “Just checking up on you.”

“Well, I’m just dandy, big guy. Swell, even.” He shifted his weight, leaning back on the sink with his hands.

“Stiles-”

“Peachy keen.”

Derek huffed a sigh through his nose, clearly frustrated. But Stiles was frustrated too and he couldn’t understand why he had to do things like this when he clearly wouldn’t ever be able to match their level.

“Would you just-”

“I don’t see the poin-”

They spoke at the same time and Stiles would have continued on with the rant he’d been preparing the moment he set foot inside the house had Derek not stepped into the bathroom and derailed any present thought from his mind. “Shut up for a moment and let me talk,” Derek grumbled, a low growl forming in his throat.

Stiles wasn’t even sure how to respond to that, so he stood, quiet, waiting, and ready to listen to whatever drabble Derek might have to say about ‘pack dynamics’ and ‘how everyone should pull their weight’.

“You could get seriously hurt,” Derek said into the silence between them. “I’m trying to protect you.”

Stiles hadn’t been expecting that. “I’m sorry, what?” He’d set himself up to listen to the rantings and ravings of a frustrated Alpha and his wayward human, not the quiet concern he could just barely hear in Derek’s voice.

Derek sighed again and took another cautious step toward Stiles. He couldn’t back up anymore or he’d risk falling into the sink and he was pretty sure the back of his pants was already ruined by any of the blood spatter. “You need to be able to protect yourself. I - We won’t always be there to watch out for you.”

He knew what Derek was trying to get across but arguing was second nature to Stiles. The urge to question and pester was just as a part of him as the skin on his bones. “I don’t need you guys to watch out for me.”

Something flashed across Derek’s face and for a moment, Stiles thought he saw something akin to disappointment flare in his eyes. Stiles swallowed past a lump forming in his throat because he never wanted to disappoint Derek. It was just difficult to do what he wanted.

“You’re right.” And just like that, Derek was shutting down. Stiles could see it, feel it, and knew he didn’t need heightened senses to realize that the disappointment Derek was feeling wasn’t for him. It was for Derek. He’d spoken up and said something on his mind. Showed a sliver of vulnerability and Stiles had cut it off at the quick.

He hadn’t meant to, he just wished everyone would just stop worrying about him. He didn’t deserve it.

Derek turned to leave and Stiles did something stupid. He reached out, pushing himself off the edge of the sink, and grabbed at Derek’s arm to get him to stop. It was easy enough. Now all he had to do was speak.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles sighed. “I’m just - upset. I mean, you can’t mess with the money-maker,” He smirked, pointing at his face and trying to lighten the mood. Derek turned around but he didn’t exactly look all that amused. Stiles’ smirk fell and suddenly he realized just how close they were now, how warm Derek’s arm was underneath the palm of his hand. He released his hold as if burned to touch the wolf and sighed again. “Sorry, I-”

Derek wasn’t going far though, nor did he look offended by Stiles’ abrupt retreat. He towered over Stiles, took a brave step toward him, and looked down at him a moment before he reached out to grip his tiny shoulders in massive, warm hands.

That lump in Stiles’ throat was growing, along with the rising levels of embarrassment mixed with anxiety that was normally at a high but now felt like they were skyrocketing up and out into the room.

“We - I can’t always be there to fight with you. I need to know that you’ll be okay when I’m not.”

Suddenly training wasn’t that difficult of a request anymore. He could do it. He’d endured worse over the past few years, right? Sure, he’d end up with some bruises, maybe a broken bone here and there, but looking up at Derek right now made all those impending dooms feel like they were tiny and insignificant.

Stiles sighed. His shoulders, along with Derek’s hands, slumped a little. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be back out there.”

“Are you sure about this?” Derek asked, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. It was the kind of smirk Stiles wanted to eat up, but that was a hill to climb for another day.

Huffing a chuckle, Stiles offered up a smile instead, slapping a hand down on one of Derek’s shoulders.

“Yeah, we got this.”

Thanks for the prompt! It’s been a bit since I’ve done much Sterek so I went with them for a light, fluff piece :3

For anyone else whose looking for some prompts for me to write, visit —> here!

[mastercherry]

More Sterek for you.

Have you seen The Truman Show? If not let me just recap it for you. Some TV director/producer dude had the idea to create a TV show that followed a human life like 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It was the world's largest TV set, a whole island. Everyone in the town was in on it. Even his best friend. His parents weren't his real parents. He finds out in the end and tries to escape.

Anyways, it's interesting I think. Jim Carrey plays Truman. Give it a gander if you'd like.

So here's my Sterek idea. Inspired by The Truman Show.

First of all, the supernatural world is known. Maybe there's even like a Men in Black situation where government agencies specialize in this type of stuff. OR maybe aliens exist too. Who knows?

Anyways, Stiles is a supernatural creature. A very powerful one. Powerful enough to destroy the world if he wanted. But here's the thing, he has no idea.

He thinks he's just a normal human from a normal small town in the middle of a normal little nowhere. Nothing crazy ever happens to him. Really, the only bad thing to happen is his mother getting sick and passing away. Other than that, he's really lived a golden life.

He dreams of travel but he can't just leave his dad behind alone. And what about Scott? His best friend needs him too. So he's never even left Beacon Hills.

Weird stuff starts happening when Derek Hale blows into town. It was a huge tragedy when his whole family died in a fire. Why would he come back?

Anyways... so Stiles is an orphaned little baby who could one day destroy the world if he ever awakened his powers. So what does the government do? They put him in a little small town with some agents to raise him as their son. They infiltrate the town easily enough. And as he grows up, the town builds up around him, actual townspeople slowly being replaced with just agents instead. The Hales are a stubborn group though. When the gov finally convince them to leave they had to make up a pretty great story: house fire.

His "mom"? Claudia? An agent. She's alive and well but she got attached and wanted to tell him the truth. So she had to be "killed". And his dad? The sheriff? He's attached too. But he doesn't say anything because he doesn't want to be "killed" off.

You see what I'm doing here? Stiles' whole life is a lie. His entire experience has been curated by the government in the hopes that they keep his power locked up. Why didn't they just kill him as a baby? They wanted the chance to use his power if it even came to be. He could be an ultimate weapon.

Anyways..... yeah it needs some work but that's the gist.

[hedwig221b]

hiiii!! if you’re still taking sterek prompts: set in college, sterek are finally together! boyd, erica, issac, and kira are so so happy for them and glad that derek has found love with stiles but they miss hanging out with their friend!! derek is spending all of his time with stiles and they really understand that but they miss derek, maybe stiles overhears them talking about it and feels guilty that he’s taking up derek’s time and tries to get derek to hang out with his friends more

“What did he say?” Kira chirped, looking up at Erica with lifted eyebrows.

Erica huffed and turned her phone to show her the screen. It was a bit too sad to see how quickly Kira’s hopeful smile dwindled down to a dejected pout. “‘No’. Again. Fucking dickhead.”

“Erica.”

“What?” She turned to Boyd, who was watching as the girls touched up their make up in front of the mirror. “Am I wrong? He ditched us! We’ve known him since fucking high school. And you,” she thrust her finger at Kira, ignoring her puppy eyes, “are basically his sister. The only one who’s sane. And he fucking—”

“Well, it’s kind of expected,” Isaac muttered, glaring at his phone where he had just lost a game. “He pined for Stilinski since fucking forever, so…”

“Listen, I’m happy he’s getting laid.” Erica swiveled towards him with a sarcastic smile and spread her arms. “I’ll be the first to buy him a fucking balloon set and a gift basket, but this is ridiculous.”

“You just can’t stand being ditched,” noticed Boyd.

“And you can? This is the third time!” She turned back to the mirror and smashed the top of her lipstick case closed with a bit too much force. “I fucking miss his stupid face.”

“Me, too,” Kira sighed.

All of them looked at each other.

“Let’s go get drunk,” Boyd grunted, standing up.

*

“What do you mean ‘No’?”

“Mmm.”

“Derek—” Stiles grabbed him by the hair and pushed him up, away from his neck. The sight of his half-lidded eyes and a soft smile made Stiles’ face burn and his heart tickle. Concentrate! “Why aren’t you going?”

Derek made an attempt to dive back to kissing Stiles’ neck and rolled his eyes when Stiles didn’t let him.

“Stiles…”

“Derek.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Derek huffed. “No, I don’t want to go out. I’ve only just got you, baby, I want to spend all my time with you.”

Stiles sighed and traced his fingers down Derek’s face and scruff. He understood Derek’s feelings, probably more than anyone else, because he, too, wanted to glue himself to the man and never fucking let go. Like, what do you mean Derek fucking Hale wants to date him? To look at Stiles, touch him, kiss, make love with him. The same Derek who Stiles was sighing over for so long?

Sometimes, Stiles stared at Derek’s possessive hand spread over his thigh and wonder how the hell did he get this? What brain disease made this Greek god, this insanely funny and sharp-witted confident man turn his attention onto Stiles?

“But… Don’t you miss your friends?”

Derek stared at him with narrowed eyes. He was lying on his front between Stiles’ spread thighs — the sight of heavenly dreams, yes, please; his fingers flexed on Stiles’ sides a bit, as if he wanted to pierce the claws into him.

“Did you get tired of me?” he asked out of the blue.

“Wh— No!”

“Do you want space? I know we moved too fast, but I just can’t fucking get enough of you—”

This man. Stiles was going to become insane.

“I don’t want space,” he tried to smooth out Derek’s frown with his thumbs. “If I could I’d become a leech and attach myself to you. Wait.” Stiles froze. “Is that weird?”

“It’s not.”

Stiles bit his lip to keep the smile in. “Would you love me if I was a wo—”

“Don’t.”

Stiles snorted. “What I mean is…” He sighed. “I know what it’s like to be a friend who’s ditched because of a partner.” His careful gaze met Derek’s intense one. “It’s not a good feeling. And I don’t want your friends to hate me.”

“I won’t let them.”

“Go then! Like, what if you break up with me tomorrow and go to them and— Ouch!” Stiles rubbed his left pec that Derek just sank his teeth in.

“Not tomorrow, not next month, and, guess what, not even next year.” Derek pierced him with his glare. He lifted himself up on the elbows, loomed over Stiles and kissed him hard. “Don’t even fucking think about it,” he bit out into Stiles’ lips, making his heart shiver from the possessiveness in his tone. “You’re not getting away from me.”

“Okay, big bad wolf, Little Red got the message.” Stiles murmured, patting Derek on the sides. Internally, he was squealing from joy. “You’ll chase after me and my pierogi until— Stop biting!”

Derek didn’t look sorry at all, just arched an eyebrow. Stiles sighed and put his hands around Derek’s massive shoulders to urge him to lay down again. “Let’s at least pretend not to be so toxic about each other, okay?”

“We’re not toxic.”

“You’re lucky I’m as obsessed with you as you are with me. Otherwise, you’d get a touch too familiar with my Dad’s intimidation tactics.”

“I want to meet your dad,” Derek frowned at him.

Stiles stared at him. “I can’t decide whether you are a figment of my salivating imagination or you’re simply insane.”

“He’s your dad.”

This. Man.

“You’ll get to experience my annoying clinginess, I promise you. But tonight we are going to pretend that we can exist without being in the immediate vicinity of each other; you are going to go to your friends, have fun and get shitfaced.”

“Baby…”

“Nuh-uh. I need to finish my conspectus anyway, and you’re distracting.”

Derek’s sigh was so deep, one would think Stiles forced him to go take an exam.

“As you wish, princess.” Derek smirked at the blush on Stiles’ face. “You won’t remember any of your notes anyway.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m going to fuck your brains out when I come back.”

Stiles snorted, then fell apart in giggles, as Derek sucked a goodbye kiss on the base of his neck.

*

LOML: I love you

You: I love you too. having fun?

LOML: lvoe uou

Stiles’ heart did an excited screeching massive rollercoaster swerve. With a tight lodge in his throat, Stiles threw himself on the bed and stared at his too-bright screen in the darkness of his quiet room. And stared, and stared…

You: got it

LOML: Erica s yellin at Isaac

You: ?

LOML: she wants to bee my maid f honor at our weddinge

LOML: kiras crying bc she wants it tooo

LOML: can I have four poeple f honor? pls kitten

You: sure

LOML: I loooe yoi

You: love you too

[dereles]

Derek follows the scent, gets an uneasiness he can’t shake. He tracks it down until he realizes that it’s not some innocuous bonfire—it’s Stiles’ house.

He can’t hear anything over the roar of the flames, can’t hear if anyone’s in the house. So he centers himself as much as he can with his heart beating out of his chest, and tries to find the sound of Stiles’ voice, the Sheriff, a distant sound of sirens. What he finds is the rumble of Stiles’ jeep, and relief crashes over him so strongly he’s nearly brought to his knees. It’s not certain, though, so he fumbles his phone out of his pocket and finds Stiles’ number.

“Is there anyone in your house?” Derek asks, as soon as the line connects.

“What? Why?”

“Is there anyone in your house.” Derek asks again, demanding.

“Uh—My dad was home when I left. Why? Derek, what’s happening?”

Derek’s stomach drops, his entire body going tense.

“Call the fire department.”

“Wha—”

“Call the fire department.”

Derek hangs up. There’s so much adrenaline running through him that he feels detached, watching distantly as a part of the house collapses in on itself in a plume of dark smoke. He doesn’t move for long seconds, inhaling deeply even as he feels ash scraping his lungs.

He’s violently jolted back into himself when he breathes in again and…and he knows that—that’s the smell of burning flesh. That’s the smell of Stiles’ only family burning alive and the rumble of Stiles’ jeep getting closer and he can’t—he can’t let—

Derek’s eyes are open, but he’s not seeing. Everything narrows down to that single scent as he takes a step forward, another step—not Stiles, not him too.

He might hear Stiles’ voice as he steps over the threshold, distracted as he remembers that there’s no mountain ash here, nothing that will keep him out, nothing that will keep them trapped inside. It falls away at the sight of the Sheriff, only feet away from the door, grunting with effort as he tries to push a burning chunk of roof off himself with black and blistered hands.

Derek’s shoving it away, pulling him up, half-carrying the man out the door, completely unaware of the deep groves of ash already healing in his palms. Stiles is running towards him—crying, terrified—but he hears the Sheriff’s steady, calming tone through choking coughs as they collapse against each other a safe distance from the flames.

Derek can’t stay—he can’t be near it anymore, but he can’t leave, wherever he goes he knows he’ll still be tasting ash, that smell—

He runs away. He runs home, home that’s not home anymore, home painted with soot and pain and guilt and alone, what he deserves.

He spends the night there by himself. But what he doesn’t know is that he won’t have to be alone much longer.