#sterekscene5

[tabbytabbytabby]

Halloweentown AU for @sterekweek2019 Day 5: Scene Stealer

[ravenclawkward-art]

[thedaughterofkings]

Nobody puts Stiles in a corner

Written for @sterekweek2019​ Days Four and Five: Movie Night and Scene Stealer - I think you can guess which movie I went with!^^

Movie pack nights are Lydia’s idea.

“If we are supposed to grow together as a pack, we need to include group bonding experience that do not have literal death and destruction stakes,” she’d said and amongst all suggestions, watching a movie together had seemed the safest bet. Of course, they’d then all promptly almost come to blows over Lydia’s choice of movie - The Notebook, what else, but once that had been settled, it had been a surprisingly fun experience for all. At first they rotated not just film choice rights, but also hosting duties, but once Derek’s loft boasted the biggest screen of them all, movie nights always ended up there. 

The TV had, inexplicably, been a gift from Stiles.

He’d just turned up one day with it, rambling about something or other that Derek couldn’t follow in his wildest dreams and when he left, Derek had a brand new, huge flat screen TV. That alone probably wouldn’t have made him take note - Stiles had calmed down significantly, but sometimes he just did things and you had to learn to roll with it. But then Lydia had seen the TV and heard it came from Stiles, and she’d had such a knowing look on her face that it drove Derek crazy because he had no clue what said TV had told her. And even more infuriatingly, apparently Stiles could read Lydia’s face as well as Lydia could read Derek’s brand new TV, because he blushed bright red all the way up to the tips of his ears and then quickly disappeared with an absurd excuse to avoid Lydia’s knowing face.

The Sheriff had done his part to complete Derek’s eternal confusion. When Derek had come to him to repay him for the TV - because the poor guy’s credit card did not have to pay for Derek’s TV, no matter what Stiles might have reasoned, he had refused the money, claiming that Stiles had all paid for it himself.

“Let him, son, it’s better for all involved if you don’t fight him on this,” the Sheriff had said, sounding both resigned and a little bit proud. “He wanted to gift this to you, and he’d not want to see his gift rejected. Take him out to see one of his Marvel movies some day; he’d like that, I think.”

And then he’d patted Derek’s shoulder and walked away, leaving Derek standing there, gaping after him.

That almost sounded like the Sheriff telling him to take his son out on a date, but surely that can’t have been right. Derek must have misunderstood something, somewhere. Laura did always tell him that he was no good at human-ing. 

Derek still took Stiles to see a film. Well, he took the entire pack, so even if he sat next to Stiles and paid for his jumbo popcorn, it still didn’t make it a date. Not really.

Either way, the TV stayed, and with it, the pack. Movie nights happen at Derek’s now, and he even finds himself looking forward to them now, has fun coming up with new snacks and drinks, matching his choice of film when it’s his turn. (Ever since no one turned up to Lydia’s third showing of The Notebook, the grand reveal of what film they’ll watch has been moved to immediately before they start the film. They have also since forbidden reruns - no repeating films seemed the safest decision.)

Often Stiles joins him a little earlier than the rest, helping with the preparation of food or rearranging the sofas until he’s satisfied with all the viewing angles. Or rather, he makes Derek rearrange them, shouting orders from atop the couch table. If he didn’t know better, Derek would almost say that Stiles does it to ogle Derek’s muscles, because when they are done, Derek at least can’t tell how the sofa arrangement differs from how it was before he had to move them around.

Stiles always comes over early when it’s Derek’s choice of film, though. He likes to guess at what they are watching, just from what Derek is preparing. And usually he’s quite good at it, too, but to Derek’s surprise, he seems stumped this week.

“Watermelons?” Stiles asks, lifting one skeptically and promptly almost dropping it on his foot. “What are those for then?”

“Well, for carrying,” Derek jokes but only gets a blank look in reply. “You know, ‘I carried a watermelon’?” he tries again, but Stiles still doesn’t seem to recognise the line. “Nobody puts Baby in a corner?” 

Stiles frowns and asks: “Since when do you have a child? Derek, these are the kind of things I, we need to know! For pack reasons!”

He smells genuinely upset and Derek does not gets what happening right now.

“I don’t have a child, for goodness’ sake, Stiles! Not a baby, ‘Baby’! What Johnny says, you know!”

“Who is Johnny?” Stiles asks, scent less sour with turmoil, but still tangy with suspicion. 

“Johnny, the dancer, you know, Johnny and Baby! The watermelon, the corner, the mambo?” Derek lists, but none of that sparks any recognition in Stiles and Derek suddenly realises: “Oh my god you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you? Have you really never seen it?”

“Wait, this is for the film tonight? What are we watching? Who are Johnny and why is his baby a watermelon?” Stiles demands and Derek just grins. Stiles has never seen Dirty Dancing. Derek is going to milk this to every last drop. Usually Stiles knows what film Derek has chosen within a few minutes, if not seconds, and then typically teases Derek about them mercilessly until the rest of the pack arrives. So Derek is going to enjoy having the upper hand for once. 

Dirty Dancing had been Laura’s favourite film and she watched it at least twice a year, or whenever she needed a pick me up. She’d gone through both a phase where she’d wanted to be Baby and one where she’d decided she’d rather be Johnny, which is why Derek knows that lift from both positions, because of course loving Dirty Dancing means knowing all the steps and who better qualifies as a dancing partner than your helpless younger brother. 

After Laura’s death, Derek couldn’t stand any reminders for a long while, but now he finally feels ready to watch it again. He thought about watching it alone, but in the end decided it would be better to start a new tradition, with his new pack. They’d probably tease him for the choice a little bit, especially Stiles, but they’d be gentle about it, having learned by now each other’s scars and tender places. What he didn’t factor in was the possibility that Stiles would not know the movie.

It adds an unexpected element of hilarity to the otherwise very bittersweet experience.

Stiles gets increasingly antsy when Derek won’t reveal what their movie of the night will be before the others get there and offers increasingly outlandish suggestions, starting with Ice Age and culminating in some obscure British TV film. Derek doesn’t even know how he found that one and yet still hasn’t thought of Dirty Dancing. 

Watching the film with Stiles - and the rest of the pack of course - is an experience.

Derek doesn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been Stiles absolutely loving the film. 

Stiles clocks Robbie immediately, absolutely adores Penny, heckles Lisa, teases “Broody McBroodster Sexy Hips” Johnny and identifies very strongly with Baby. Derek guesses it makes a strange sort of sense - an adored, almost larger than life father, more intelligent than they are supposed to be, plus a marked challenge to coordinate all of their limbs. ‘And then there’s the strong bond to the broody hottie with a heart of gold,’ his inner Laura says but Derek resolutely ignores her.

When Baby carries her watermelon, Stiles flails and smacks a hand on Derek’s knee. It remains there for the rest of the film and Derek finds that his attention keeps drifting back to it. Stiles taps his fingers in time with the beat of the songs, digs his fingernails into Derek’s thigh during Baby’s and Johnny’s performance at the rival resort and then sighs in disappointment when the final lift doesn’t work. 

He is very pissed when Dr Houseman mistakenly assumes that Johnny got Penny “in trouble”, going on a rant about preconceived opinions and premature condemnations that ends with him muttering something about ‘and he was only ever questioned, never charged with anything.” Derek studiously avoids Lydia’s gaze. She is far too often of one opinion with his inner Laura. In the corner of his eye he sees Erica whispering something to Isaac who snorts loudly and is promptly shushed by Stiles who is totally engrossed in the drama on screen.

When Johnny gives his “Nobody puts Baby in the corner” line, Stiles gasps and then turns to Derek, grinning slightly maniacally: “I dare you to say that to my dad!”

Derek simply rolls his eyes and ignores Boyd’s knowing look from behind Stiles.

The final dance is without a doubt Stiles’ favourite. It helps that everyone else is finally focusing on the film again, too, and cheering Johnny and Baby on along with the people on screen. When Baby prepares for the final lift, Stiles grabs Derek’s hand and squeezes it hard until she’s up in the air. Then he whoops and does a strange sort of wiggle dance of celebration that ends with him pressed tightly against Derek who loses track of anything else that happens besides the sensation of Stiles’ thigh pressed against his and how his shoulder keeps bumping into Derek’s and how much easier it would be to just put his arm around Stiles and draw him in and hold him still that way.

He regrets not paying attention when everyone suddenly starts rearranging his furniture. It all gets shoved aside, Stiles pulling Derek up by the hand when it’s time for their couch, and before Derek knows it, there’s a wide open space on the floor.

“What- ?” he finally manages to ask - or begin to ask, but before he can come up with a fully formed question, Stiles starts rearranging him. With just a few touches, Derek finds himself standing in the middle of the open space, still without a clue as to what’s going on here. 

“What?” he repeats himself, but Stiles is already backing away. The rest of the pack is sitting on the couches again - Erica and Jackson are even munching popcorn. Derek would really like to know where they kept that hidden while they were watching a movie. 

“Isaac said you wouldn’t be able to do it, but I know you can,” Stiles answers cryptically and gives Derek no chance to make any sense of his statement before he starts to run.

Derek stares at Stiles barrelling towards him at full speed and it’s only the endless practices with Laura that allow him to catch and lift Stiles as he throws himself bodily into a jump and at Derek. He has got his hands on Stiles’ waist and his arms stretched up high and for one long moment, Stiles flies, yelling excitedly, his voice mixing with the chorus of the pack’s exclamations and applause. Then he moves ever so slightly and Derek can feel his balance slipping. At least he manages to make sure Stiles’ fall is cushioned by his own body, though the idiot probably doesn’t deserve as much. 

There’s a brief moment of silence when Stiles doesn’t even seem to breath and Derek thinks he’s gotten hurt after all, but then Stiles sighs out a long breath and starts babbling:

“Dude, that was so amazing! Imagine how that’s going to look once we practice!”

“I know the steps to the whole dance,” Derek admits spontaneously, and it feels like he’s admitting to something more profound. Stiles looks at him with wide, hopeful eyes and then asks:

“Will you make sure no one puts me into the corner?”

They are definitely talking about something beyond the dance now, and even though Derek isn’t sure he’s quite understood the rules of this strange code language, he nevertheless promises: “I’ll even carry your watermelons for you.”

That makes Stiles laugh out loud and bury his face in Derek’s shoulder. Over his head, Derek can see the rest of the pack sneaking out of the loft, Scott giving him a thumb’s up and Erica making kissy faces at him. Lydia just smiles smugly as though this had all been engineered by her and then quietly closes the door behind them. 

When Derek focuses back on Stiles, he’s already looking at him, face unreadable but his head betraying his hopes and his scent his fears. The sour notes of it make Derek’s nose itch and he decides to finally listen to his inner Laura and dare to jump himself, trusting Stiles to catch and lift him.

“Come here, loverboy,” he says quietly and Stiles relaxes, a grin growing from the corner of his eyes, quickly spreading across his whole face, cheeks flushing lightly pink.

Then his mouth opens: “Baby, my sweet baby, you’re the one.”

And then Derek quickly curves his hand around Stiles’ head and draws him into a kiss before he keeps up that caterwauling he’d call singing. 

After all, Baby only lipsynced, too. 

All of my Sterekweek fics can be found here!

[chrysthebadwolf]

STEREK WEEK 2019- DAY 5- SCENE STEALER

Based on the scene between Clara and the Doctor at the ‘’Last Christmas’’ episode. (Doctor Who, Christmas Special 2014)

A group of dark Druids traps Derek in the roots of the Beacon Hills’  Nemeton tree trying to wake it up and use its power. Derek sinks into deep slumber and the tree tricks him into thinking he’s woken up to a reality where his childhood home is still standing and his family is still alive. While the rest of the Pack is fighting off the Druids, Stiles manages to find Derek and attempts to bring him back but does not succeed. Making a desperate decision he offers himself to the Nemeton and tries to draw Derek to the shared mindspace where they met the last time the werewolf was in danger. 

The clock is ticking and Stiles is determined. He must and will convince Derek that there are things in the real world that are worth fighting their way back there. 

[jmeelee]

Sterek Week 2019 Theme: Scene Stealer

Rated: G

Words: 1200

Scene Stolen from Outlander

+++++++++

People disappear all the time. Many of the lost are found, eventually.  Disappearances, after all, have explanations. 

Usually.

-----

The fall morning dawns crisp and cool; the kind of day that makes Stiles grateful for the kiss of the sun.  Yesterday's torrential downpour washed away the last remnants of an unrelenting summer, leaving behind air so sweet Stiles can taste earth on his tongue.  Red and yellow leaves madly shush like irate librarians under his sneakers, while snapping twigs pop like gunshots, echoing throughout the hush of the preserve. 

On days like these, Stiles thinks about Derek Hale.  

Derek drifts in and out of Stiles’ head, a handsome vagabond.  In his carpetbag, he carries Stiles’ youthful regrets and a soft, irreplaceable piece of his heart.  Sometimes he leaves as fast as he arrived; a ghost on the peripheral of Stiles’ vision, summoned by a scowl, over-arched eyebrow, or throw-away gesture, and gone in the blink of an amber-colored eye, not returning for months, a year.  Other times, he stays awhile, unpacking all the things Stiles thought were carelessly thrown in the back of a Toyota Cruiser and driven out of Beacon Hills five years ago.  When he overstays his welcome, Derek’s smile sharpens, a blade in the dark, so quick and bright Stiles tastes blood in his mouth every morning Derek stubbornly remains.  Eventually, he finds the strength to banish Derek back from whence he came.   

But he bursts into technicolor life today, face and hair bathed in the early-morning sunlight flickering through the trees, shirt a hair too tight, walking beside Stiles on his woodland errand.  This is Derek’s stomping ground, the land he treads with silent feet, both then and now, real and imaginary.  This is private property.  His presence is a gentle hum in the back of Stiles’ mind.    

Stiles’ meandering path eventually brings him to the secret garden he planted deep in the heart of the preserve, where rich and hearty soil feeds sage, mugwort, damiana, coltsfoot and more.  After a few years of careful tending, the roots are strong and the plants are abundant.  “You need to be that spark, Stiles.” He ruminates on Deaton’s prophetic words while he snaps off some stems, enough to stock his expanding apothecary and get the McCall pack through until Spring, wrapping the sprigs in white cloth before stuffing them into his beat-up leather satchel.  Spells scroll through his brain, their ingredient popping up for him to mentally tick off; a druid’s grocery list. 

Be that Spark.  He’s trying.

Twenty minutes in and the gentle hum at the back of his skull has turned to a mildly incessant roar.  

He turns from the garden, eyes narrowed, and steps over the two-by-fours outlining the raised plot, ears instinctually following the noise.  Derek disappears when Stiles focuses on his footing, gone back to South America or Atlantis or the Bermuda Triangle, whatever inaccessible place he resides these days.  Stiles’ satchel bumps against his spine as he follows the steadily swelling sound down a steep embankment, over a stream pregnant with rainwater, and through thick brambles.  

Carefully pushing aside a prickly, overgrown hedge with his fingertips, Stiles comes face to face with the stump of the Nemeton. 

“Huh,” he grunts, momentarily disoriented.  He glances around, blinking at familiar forest grove.  Water oaks reach their gnarled arms toward each other, tiny branches clasping like fingers overhead, creating a trellised canopy leading down to the freshwater preserve.  How has Stiles not realized his little garden was planted so close to the magical tree?  

“I’m sorry, Boy.  I have nothing left to give you.”  Yeah, nothing except the willies, even after all these years.

The buzzing grows louder.   

“What the hell?” Stiles whispers aloud, edging closer.  He searches nearby branches for a wasp nest, thinking that must be the culprit. Then he remembers being six-years-old, running around his yard playing war with Scott, and limping inside to his mother with a painful, swollen foot, a battle wound earned from stepping on a ground bee. He makes a cursory examination of the base of the Nemeton.

Half-way around he spots broad palmate leaves attached to long stems, twisting around a bulging root and stretching toward the sky like tiny umbrellas.  “No way!” Stiles exclaims.  “American Mandrake shouldn’t be growing here!”

He forgets the ominous susurrus in the excitement of discovery.  Stiles flips open his satchel, kneeling in the soft, damp dirt.  Medicinal potions and defensive spells unfurl like flower petals in his mind, and he braces himself with one hand against the smooth, flat surface of the nemeton to—          

The tree screams. 

Stiles backs away as fast as he can on hands and heels, scrambling in a reverse crab-walk and tripping on the short turf, ass connecting hard with the ground.  He stares at the stump, sweating profusely, stomach roiling.  The now-deafening noise continues.  Stumbling to his feet like a newborn colt, he staggers away, heading in one direction, then another, teeth grinding, aching, jaw locked.  His head spins and his vision blurs, the sound pulling him apart from the inside out.  Pulse fast. Skin crawling. Hair prickling on his neck, on his arms.  Elemental terror.

Then, silence.

Or as blessedly close to it as he’s going to get.  He bursts through the tree line, ears ringing like he’s just left Jungle on ladies' night. He shakes his head like a wet dog and Derek’s beside him once more. Really, Stiles?  A shitty dog joke?  Relieved breath rushes from his lungs, only to reenter in gasping sobs: he hadn’t realized he’d been holding it the entire time he was running.    

A three-story house materializes like a beacon in the mist, picturesque and vaguely familiar.  Stiles staggars toward it, taking in the widow’s walk, dormers, and checkerboard windows surrounded by dark slatted shutters. Evergreen bushes line a hip-high brick retaining wall in the front yard, and a generous porch extends down the first floor, bright purple California poppies growing along the stone foundation.

Huh, he somehow finds the brainpower to think.  Those usually bloom in March and April.  

The panicked bodily reactions retreat bit by bit, falling behind with each step, bringing Stiles closer to the home.  Warm orange rays paint the wood siding in becoming shades of blush, and Stiles blames his recuperating senses for taking this long to notice the sun is setting, where moments ago it was barely 9 am.  His long-sleeved plaid overshirt is stifling in the heat, when earlier it had been a comfort against the chill.

His heart, barely recovered, beats again in double time.

Where am I?   

The front door of the house swings open and a young man emerges onto the porch, stepping out of the warm entryway light like a scowling angel.

Stiles may not have recognized the house, but he knows this man.

Grief and joy knot tight in his chest, a snarled mess, tangled like vines in the brush.  Is he dreaming?  Is this a memory?  Another comforting fantasy? 

Was Stiles called to this place?  Or did he come despite it? 

The man on the porch opens his mouth.  “This is private property,” he declares, voice younger, more unsure than Stiles has ever heard it, a stilted warning, lacking all the pain, suspicion and anger Derek hid under aggressive

eyebrows and leather jackets. 

Oh no, Stiles thinks, eyes going wide.  He’s asking the wrong questions.

“When am I?”

[nightlight9]

Sterek Week 2019 Day Five: Scene Stealer

Movie: Sixteen Candles 

Rating: G

—————

Stiles is tired, okay. He thinks, with every crazy thing that has happened over the last few days, he should be allowed. Lydia’s wedding took over everything, and while he loves his sister to death, Stiles is more than ready to put the whole thing behind him (and if he doesn’t have to deal with Jackson anytime soon, that’s even better). Maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll be able to sleep in his own room for the first time in too many days. He understands that his dad wanted to make sure that their family was comfortable while they were in town, but he misses his bed. And his privacy. And having his own space. 

Walking out of the church, Stiles isn’t even surprised to see that the crowd has dispersed. All of his relatives are climbing into their cars, not paying any attention to the fact that he isn’t with them. Honestly, it shouldn’t even hurt his feelings. His whole family, including his father, forgot his birthday. Why should being left behind yet again make a difference?

It does though. They’re still his family, you’d think that they could do a little better about noticing him. Looking at the ground, Stiles takes a deep breath and tries to put it all behind him. It doesn’t matter. In a few more days, the family will be gone, and Stiles can go back to his boring life. Everything will go back to normal, and he’ll be able to breath again. For that, he can put up with a couple more days. And hell, now he can take over Lydia’s room. That in and of itself makes everything a little better, even if it’s not as good as being in his own bed.

With that in mind, Stiles looks back up, ready to conquer the rest of the day. 

Then he freezes. Because as the last car pulls away, he catches sight of the black Camaro waiting on the other side of the street. Leaning against it, looking like he belongs on the cover of a sexy car magazine, Derek Hale is watching him. 

Stiles looks around, trying to determine if he’s actually already fallen asleep and this is a dream. But then Derek is raising his hand in a wave, smiling at Stiles like he’s the best thing he’s seen all day, and Stiles decides that he doesn’t care if he’s dreaming. 

He stays rooted in place as Derek jogs across the street over to him. Up close, he’s mesmerizing, with perfect cheekbones and a smile that could kill. Stiles swallows a rush of nerves and says, “Hi.”

Derek tucks his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He looks nervous, which is kind of crazy. Sties doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look so self conscious before. “Hi.”

Without thinking, Stiles repeats, “Hi.” Mentally, he kicks himself for being so dumb. Then, before he can bite back the words, he asks, “What are you doing here?”

Derek rocks back on his heels a little. He shrugs. “I heard you were here.”

Stiles gaps at him. “You came here for me?”

“Is that okay?”

He laughs a little, and is happy when it comes out only slightly manic. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Derek smiles, looking pleased by his response. “Do you have to go to the reception now?”

Stiles sighs. Just thinking about it makes him more tired. “I’m supposed to.”

Immediately, Derek nods, as though it is what he had been expecting. “Can I call you later?”

“Sure.” He pauses. “I mean, no.”

Derek’s expression crumbles, though he tries to school his features into a blank mask before asking, “No I can’t call you later?”

“Yeah.” Stiles looks up at him, shocked when he sees how disappointed Derek looks. Then he realizes what he’s just said, and he laughs a little. “No, I mean, I’m not going to the reception.”

Just like that, Derek’s smile is back. “Oh.” His voice is filled with a quiet pleasure. “Great.” He inclines his head toward the Camaro, an obvious invitation that has Stiles nodding frantically in agreement. It doesn’t matter where Derek wants to take him, he’s willing to go. 

As they cross the street, Stiles catches sight of his dad. Gesturing at Derek’s back, he mouths, ‘This is the guy,’ and John smiles at him and nods his agreement. He watches as Derek opens the passenger door for Stiles in a surprisingly chivalrous way, and smiles. His son deserves something good, and if that something is Derek Hale, then who is he to intervene (he’ll still have someone look up the kid’s record, but Stiles doesn’t need to know that).

Sitting in the Camaro is better than Stiles anticipated. It’s such a sexy car, with its black leather interior and sleek detailing. Derek keeps it clean, a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed. And, when Derek gets behind the wheel, the whole car smells like his cologne. Stiles thinks he’d be able to die happy now. 

“Where are we going?” He asks, a thrill running down his spine when Derek smiles at him. He still looks nervous and embarrassed, and Stiles decides it’s enduring. 

“I have a surprise for you at the house. I-. If that’s okay.”

Stiles bites on his lips to keep from grinning like a loon. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

Reaching across the center console, Derek takes his hand, slotting their fingers together. Stiles beams at him, and Derek squeezes his hand. “Good.”

They spend the rest of the day together, hanging out at Derek’s house. It’s amazing how easy they get along, though they’ve never really interacted before. Despite having a huge crush of him, Stiles still expected Derek to be full of himself and a little hard to be around, but he’s not like that at all. He’s actually shy, and smart. He listens when Stiles rambles on, asking questions then smiling like he’s actually interested in what Stiles has to say. It’s overwhelming in the best kind of way, and Stiles doesn’t feel tired any more.

Hours later, Derek leads Stiles into the dining room. “Hey, sit up here.” Taking his hand, Derek helps him climb on top of the dining table. The absurdity of the situation makes Stiles laugh, but he complies anyway. “Stay here, and I’ll go get your surprise.”

He leaves the room for only a minute, long enough that Stiles has a chance to catch his breath. Then, he comes back carrying a homemade birthday cake. Stiles feels his face flush. Derek knew it was his birthday? Derek made him a cake? It’s almost too much to comprehend. 

Setting the cake down in front of Stiles, Derek climbs on top of the table and sits crisscross across from him. He lights the candles, smiling up at Stiles when he’s finished. 

“Thanks for coming over,” he says, biting at his lips. 

Stiles smiles at him. “Thanks for coming to get me.” 

Inclining his head toward the cake with a blush of his own, Derek says in a soft voice, “Happy birthday, Stiles. Make a wish.”

Thinking about it, Stiles laughs. “It already came true.”

Derek looks up at him in surprise, green eyes wide. Then, very slowly, he starts leaning in. It’s probably a bad idea to kiss over burning birthday candles, but Stiles isn’t going to waste the opportunity. He leans forward until their lips meet in the middle in a sweet, perfect kiss. He never thought that he would be here. He never thought he would get to talk to Derek, let alone kiss him. It’s a lot to take in. 

Instead of dwelling on it though, Stiles closes his eyes and deepens the kiss. He’s here now, and if all of the craziness over the last few days has lead him to this moment well - then it’s okay that everyone else forgot his birthday. Because Derek didn’t. And that’s the best gift of all. 

[halevetica]

Hawaii Five-0

Stiles stood in the garage of is father's house. His eyes scanning the familiar environment before landing on a red toolbox. It was a toolbox Stiles had seen a thousand times, but what caught his eye was the sticker on the front. Champ, was all it said.

A flash from their last conversation hit Stiles.

"Listen to me champ..." Stiles had thought that odd at the moment. His father had never called him 'champ'. It was always 'kid', but Stiles had dismissed it, as there had been a gun to his father's head at the time.

He shoved open the box lid. Inside was a tiny gold key and a tape recorder, amongst other things.

He pressed play and the sound of his father's voice made his chest ache.

"I can't continue this investigation into the police department from the inside. I don't trust the people I work with so I'm gonna have to do this on my own. It's all about the key, I just don't know what it's for."

Stiles quickly pressed stop at the sound of someone inside the house. He wasn't technically supposed to be there as it was a crime scene, but this was his father, his childhood home, and he'd be damned if anyone was going to tell him to stay out. Especially knowing that a non local was heading the investigation.

Stiles put the key and the recorder back into the toolbox and quickly locked it back up as someone opened the garage door.

"You, hands up, don't move," A dark haired man pulled a gun, causing Stiles to reach for his as well.

"Who are you?" Stiles demanded, his gun out and pointing at the man.

"Who are you?" The dark haired man demanded in return. "I am detective Derek Hale."

"Lieutenant commander Stiles Stilinski. This is my house-"

"Put your weapon down right now-"

"No you put your weapon down."

Stiles and Derek's voices both raised as they continued to argue over each other.

"Show me your ID," Stiles demanded taking a step forward.

Derek took a step back, "You show me your ID, right now."

Stiles, the ever stubborn man, stood his ground, "I'm not putting my gun down."

Derek who was just as stubborn, set his jaw, "Neither am I," he growled out.

"Use your free hand, take out your ID," Stiles didn't trust this guy for a second.

"Please, after you," Derek insisted.

"At the same time?" Stiles suggested then. Obviously neither one of them were going to give in.

"At the same time?" Derek sneered at the idea. What were they, children?

"Yeah, at the same time," Stiles snapped back. He was losing his patience with this man.

"What like on the count of three?" Derek was clearly mocking him.

"Sure, okay, three's good," Stiles gave a nod.

Derek pulled one of his hands from his gun so he could reach for his badge, "One."

Stiles followed suit.

"Two," Derek continued. Neither man lowering their gun.

They both held up their badges as Derek reached three.

Finally they holstered their guns.

Stiles took a few steps back towards the tool box.

"Listen I'm really sorry about your father," Derek offered, his voice gentler now, "But you can't be here right now. This is an active crime scene."

Stiles put a hand on the toolbox, "Doesn't seem that active," He quipped, gesturing to the empty house.

"I can't share any information with you-"

"Hess wasn't here alone when my father was murdered. Someone was sitting at the desk in his study. There was a space cleared for a thirteen inch laptop and my father hated computers," Stiles cut in.

Derek huffed, "I'm gonna ask you again, you gotta leave," he gestured to the door he'd entered through. He was trying to be patient.

Stiles grabbed the toolbox and went to step past the detective. "You got it."

"And you can leave the box, that is evidence, you know that," Derek snapped, causing Stiles to stop.

"I came with this," Stiles lied.

"No, you didn't come with it, I see the dust void it left right here on the counter," Derek walked over to where the box had been sitting.

Okay so this detective wasn't a complete idiot.

"What's in the box?" Derek asked.

"How long have you been with the Honolulu PD?" Stiles wasn't happy they put a rookie on his dad's case. That was an insult to say the least.

"None of your business. What are you Barbara Walters?" Derek snapped.

"No it is my business if you're investigating my father's death," Stiles snapped back, his patience was already gone.

"I am and I'd like to get back to that so the sooner you leave, the sooner I can," Derek once again gestured towards the door.

"Anything you say," Stiles turned to walk away again.

"Leave the box or get arrested, alright?" Derek was done playing games with this guy.

Stiles stopped once again. He was getting pissed now. "You gonna call for backup?" he didn't care that Detective Hale was bigger than him, he was sure he could take him.

"An ambulance," Derek wasn't letting this guy leave with the box.

Stiles nodded. So it was like that. He set the box down on the old mercury that his dad had sworn to fix up but never did.

"Thank you," Derek sighed in relief, he would have really hated to have to explain why he shot the son of the man who's murder he was investigating.

"Don't thank me yet," Stiles snapped pulling out his phone. He dialed the Governor's number that he had gotten this morning.

"What are you doing?" Derek glared at the other man.

Stiles only held up a finger.

"Ah yeah, governor Jameson please. Tell her it's Stiles Stilinski."

"Oh please," Derek rolled his eyes and huffed. This Stiles was being a brat.

Stiles put the phone on speaker, "Commander, Jameson here, what can I do for you?"

Derek rolled his eyes again. "You've got to be kidding me."

Stiles gave Derek a pointed look before taking her off speaker phone.

"Governor, I'll take the job," Stiles knew he was only doing this out of spite but he couldn't let this newbie investigate his father's case. This was too personal to give to someone who didn't even know his father.

Derek huffed as he leaned against the old black car. This was not his day. First his daughter, Erica, had been given a real live bunny by her step dad, making Derek look like a loser with a stuffed bunny and now this asshole was making his job impossible.

"Let's just say I found something that changed my mind."

Derek glared at Stiles but the man wasn't paying attention.

"I don't know, immediately. I'll transfer to the reserves, and I'll run your task force."

Derek's head snapped up towards Stiles. Task force? Now he was pushing him off his own case?

"What right now?" Stiles frowned.

Derek crossed his arms as Stiles switched his phone from his right hand to his left and held up his right.

"Okay," Stiles turned away from Derek, "I Stiles Stilinski, do solemnly declare upon my honor and conscience that I will act at all times to the best of my ability and knowledge in a manner befitting an officer of the law."

Derek tossed his hand up in a declaration of 'I can't believe this'.

"Thank you Governor," Stiles turned back to face Derek as he hung up the phone. He grabbed the toolbox, before heading towards the door. "Now it's my crime scene."

-

Derek groaned when he heard the knock on his front door. He was having a shit day and just wanted to drink his beer in peace.

He set down the bottle and pulled open the door. His arms instantly crossed at the sight of Stiles Stilinski on his porch. This just kept getting better.

"I swung by your precinct, spoke to your captain. He said you requested a wire be put on someone named Fred Doran."

Derek's jaw clenched.

"Tell me about him," Stiles demanded stepping past Derek, into the tiny house.

"Come in," Derek rolled his eyes. This man was beyond irritating.

"This your kid?" Stiles asked, picking up a picture of a little girl with dark features that matched Derek's.

"Yeah. That's stunning detective work," Derek gave a sarcastic smile.

"You don't actually let her stay here with you, do you?" Stiles gestured to the one bedroom mess that was Derek's house.

"What are you, Nanny nine one one?" Derek sneered. The place was temporary, until he could find something more permanent.

"So what do you know about this guy, Doran?" Stiles asked, getting down to business. He opened the file he'd gotten from the police department, holding up a mugshot.

"Oh surely you don't need my help, right?" Derek took a seat in his previous chair.

"Enlighten me."

Derek pursed his lips, but sighed, "He's a suspected arms dealer. Two years Maui correctional for weapons possession. He's currently a person of interest in an unrelated homicide. The weapon was never found."

"So what's he got to do with my father's case?" Stiles frowned, not seeing the connection.

Derek did not want to be helping this guy. But this wasn't about him. This was about a man who was murdered in cold blood. A man who deserved to have his killers brought to justice.

"When I ran the ballistics comparison of the bullet that killed your dad, I got a hit to the Doran investigation. See I think the first thing that Hess did when he got on the island was hook up with Doran and get a gun."

"And maybe Doran still knows where he is. So let's go talk to him," Stiles nodded before heading towards the door of Derek's house.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, excuse me. Are you suffering from dementia? This is no longer my case," Derek couldn't help but let his tone be a little bit bitter about that.

"The captain said you transferred in from New Jersey six months ago so your eyes are still fresh-"

"You know, uh, I appreciate it but my psych eval's not for another six weeks," Derek cut in.

Stiles gestured to the room they were in, "Fold out bed, no ring of your finger. You obviously moved here to be close to your daughter which means in between visits all you've got is your job and you take pride in it. That's what I'm looking for," He turned back to the door.

"Yeah but you know what?" Derek shook his head, "Guys like you, they think they know how to do everything better and that only makes my job harder."

Derek would hit this guy by the end of the day if they worked together, there was no doubt about it.

"You got no choice, Detective. Governor gave me jurisdiction, I'm making you my partner," Stiles smiled widely. "We're gonna get along great."

Derek scrubbed a hand over his mouth. He was definitely gonna hit this guy.

For Sterek week prompt: Scene stealer.

Consider buying me a coffee, I would really appreciate it!

[josjournal]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa McCall, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Allison Argent, Chris Argent, Vernon Boyd, Erica Reyes, Jackson Whittemore, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Sterek Week 2019, sterekscene5, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Firefighter Stiles Stilinski, Firefighter Derek Hale, Firefighter Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Firefighter Vernon Boyd, Firefighter Erica Reyes, Firefighter Jackson Whittemore, Fire Chief John Stilinski, Basically Sterek as Buddie from 9-1-1, Getting Together, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Series: Part 5 of Sterek Week 2019 Summary:

Stiles is a firefighter with BHFD Ladder 30. He hates the new guy...until he doesn't.

For Sterek Week 2019 Scene Stealers - basically Sterek as Buddie from 9-1-1.

[dearericbittle]

You want forgiveness (I’ll give that to you) (1/1)

Read it on AO3

For @sterekweek2019, Scene Stealer. Because I will never not be all about the bellarke, I stole one of their early scenes and made it Sterek. 

This is a bit darker than my usual stuff, though not nearly as dark as a lot of the stuff out there. Content warnings can be found in notes!

Summary: Derek is running from the Alpha, suffering from wolfsbane poisoning and he’s clearly losing it. Why else would he be seeing his mother - and everyone else he might as well have killed himself. But Stiles can’t just let him get what he deserves. Stiles never leaves him behind, even when he should.

Preview: 

“Don’t you know? Life is a fight.”

He chokes on a sob. “What am I supposed to do, mom?”

A non-murderous Alpha, someone to tell him what to do and how to fix his mess of a life. That is all he wants right now. Not to be alone anymore, not to be the only one making these decisions that could potentially cost people their lives. Not to be the only one fighting for his life and for the lives of everyone in this damn town he should have left in his rearview mirror.

Though, what would have happened to Scott if he hadn’t? Would he be dead, killed by the Argents for daring to be a werewolf and attempting to date their daughter? Would Stiles be left broken, or worse, torn apart by claws from a newly turned wolf who’d never had the chance to learn control?

“Live,” his mother orders, her eyes shining a bright, deep crimson that should by all rights be comforting to him. “Breathe. Suffer. You owe them that. You owe us that. You want the peace of death? The reunion? You’re gonna have to earn it.”

Read the full fic on AO3

[sterekweek-2024]

I think this is my last post for the event and I am thrilled for people to see this one!!! Purge AU, Sterek style.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21290636

[sidebloggingteenwolf]

And only when one of your own kind claims this son as their own 'till death do they part' will the curse be broken.. Derek Hale was cursed with a wolf snout and furry wolf ears. He spent his life locked away from prying eyes to save his family embarrassment. His mother did everything she could to find someone to marry him so the curse would be broken, without revealing the family secret.

It looked like Jackson Whittemore would be that person for a while.

Except Jackson wouldn't marry Derek.

After Derek has an adventure of his own, involving showing the world his cursed face, nearly marrying a horrible woman, and breaking the curse himself, Derek learns something interesting about the supposed Jackson Whittemore.

This is what happens when Derek goes to his apartment to confront him about his true identity.

[tabbytabbytabby]

Love Actually Is All Around (3952 words) by tabbytabbytabby Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Sheriff Stilinski, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Laura Hale Additional Tags: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Falling In Love, Inspired by Love Actually, Protective Derek Hale, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Vice President Derek Hale, President Chris Argent, Secretary Stiles Stilinski, Sterek Week 2019, sterekscene5, Asshole Jackson Summary:

Derek Hale is the first single Vice President of the United States. Something that no one seems to want him to forget. Derek wants to. To him, dating is out of the question. An impossible situation given his position. Of course, he wasn't planning on falling for President Argent's secretary, Stiles Stilinski.

For Day 5 of @sterekweek2019: Scene Stealer

[acercrea]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent, Kira Yukimura, Peter Hale, Matt Daehler Additional Tags: Sterek Week 2019, sterekscene5, Avengers Infinity War, Teen Wolf Characters as MCU Characters, Scene in Knowhere with the Guardians and Thanos, The one where Gamora gets captured Series: Part 4 of Sterek Week 2019 Summary:

Peter Hale has been gathering the Infinity Stones so he can carry out his genocidal plans for the universe. His nephew Derek knows they have one chance left to stop him, so he, along with Stiles, Allison, and Kira, travel to Knowhere to try to get the stone first.

[ao3feed-sterek]

Love Actually Is All Around

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2JvDRam

by tabbytabbytabby

Derek Hale is the first single Vice President of the United States. Something that no one seems to want him to forget. Derek wants to. To him, dating is out of the question. An impossible situation given his position. Of course, he wasn't planning on falling for President Argent's secretary, Stiles Stilinski.

Words: 3952, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Sheriff Stilinski, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Laura Hale

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Additional Tags: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Falling In Love, Inspired by Love Actually, Protective Derek Hale, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Vice President Derek Hale, President Chris Argent, Secretary Stiles Stilinski, Sterek Week 2019, sterekscene5, Asshole Jackson

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2JvDRam

[chrysthebadwolf]

STEREK WEEK 2019- DAY FIVE- SCENE STEALER 2

Based on the scene between Clara and the Doctor at  the ‘’Before the Flood’’ episode. (Doctor Who)

Stiles walked away from Derek thinking he was leaving him alone to die once and he still has nightmares about it. He’s not about to put himself through anything like that ever again. 

It seems though that Derek hasn’t gotten the message and is as ready as ever to walk into self-sacrificing situations like it affects no one but himself. Stiles will simply not allow that to happen. 

‘’Stiles, listen…I have to do this, the Pack is counting on me.’’ 

‘’You are not helping the Pack by diving head first into the unknown!’’

‘’I’m the only one that can do this, you know that…’’

‘’Not like this! You are staying here until we have a plan! Seriously Derek, It’s like you don’t even care if you’ll come back.’’

‘’As long as the others make it out… It’s fine, Stiles. I’m okay with it. We all have to face death eventually.’’

‘’Well not with me! You do not leave me!’’

[ao3-sterek]

Love Actually Is All Around

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2JvDRam

by tabbytabbytabby

Derek Hale is the first single Vice President of the United States. Something that no one seems to want him to forget. Derek wants to. To him, dating is out of the question. An impossible situation given his position. Of course, he wasn't planning on falling for President Argent's secretary, Stiles Stilinski.

Words: 3952, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Sheriff Stilinski, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Laura Hale

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Additional Tags: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Falling In Love, Inspired by Love Actually, Protective Derek Hale, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Vice President Derek Hale, President Chris Argent, Secretary Stiles Stilinski, Sterek Week 2019, sterekscene5, Asshole Jackson

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2JvDRam