Untitled

the therapy:

Scott: "Have either of you seen Derek?"

Stiles: "Bedroom"

Scott: "How do you know that so fast?"

Stiles: "Because that's where I left him"

Scott: "..."

Read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/89112536

by caffeine_dopamine

“Dad?” Stiles’s voice is surprisingly alert and already worried, “Everything okay?”

“Congratulations, you have a werewolf”.

AU: In which Sheriff Stilinski babysits his granddaughter for one night, discovers the Hale genes are very strong, and mentally composes a strongly worded letter to Derek Hale about the state of his pillows.

Words: 4720, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Sheriff Stilinski (Teen Wolf), Original Children of Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski

Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Additional Tags: Fluff, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Humor, Kid Fic, Future Fic, Good Parent Sheriff Stilinski (Teen Wolf), Sheriff Stilinski’s Name is John (Teen Wolf)

Derek stares up at the ceiling until the haze clouding his brain clears and he is able to perceive something other than the electric sparks zinging through his body, making his limbs feel leaden and weightless at the same time.  He doesn’t think he could move if his life depended on it, and the white noise in his ears is still loud enough that he misses the rustling of the sheets, clear indicator of Stiles moving, until a blurry face slides into view.

Derek blinks the fuzziness away as Stiles grins down at him, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks still flushes from the exertion. His eyes are bright and happy, his smile triumphant and smug.

“Hey,” Stiles says, voice raspy, and pokes Derek’s temple. “You alive in there?”

Derek tries to muster up the strength to swat his hand away, but his limbs won’t really obey him so he settles for a weak glare that, in the end, falls just as flat as his snappy retort, because all that comes out when he opens his mouth is a garbled noise that is, frankly, just embarrassing.

Stiles, predictably, dissolves into laughter, but he at least has the courtesy to try and stifle his giggles by burying his face in Derek’s neck. “Man,” he says once he has caught his breath, “I am awesome.”

“If you start gloating about your sexual prowess in the third person again, I’m kicking you out of the bed,” Derek mumbles sluggishly. Forming coherent sentences should not be that difficult.

“Nah, you wouldn’t,” Stiles says easily. “I have at least five minutes grace period until you’ve regained enough strength to dump me on the floor.”

“I think you’re overestimating your abilities.”

“Your face says otherwise.”

“Oh really now.”

“Uh-huh.” Stiles presses a soft kiss to his collarbone. “‘Completely sexed out’ is a good look on you. You should wear it all the time.”

Derek stifles a yawn. “Then you’d complain about me, and I quote, ‘not fucking you into next week often enough’.”

Stiles pouts. “It’s just not fair that I have to decide between one and the other,” he whines.

“Well, unless you don’t go through a very interesting mutation, I doubt you’ll find a way to do both things at the same time.” Derek closes his eyes, and only opens them again, squinting, because a lack of response from Stiles is always mildly disturbing. He sighs, because the look on Stiles’ face confirms his worst fears. “Don’t,” he says, pointing a warning finger at Stiles, and hey, look at that, his basic motor functions are returning to him.

“It’s your fault you planted that image in my head,” Stiles squawks. “Can’t. get. it. out.”

Derek groans. “Just go to sleep, Stiles, and I promise I’ll fuck you as soon as we wake up.”

“But I’m not tired,” Stiles says, sitting up and bouncing on the mattress a little just because it always pisses Derek off and he’s a little shit. “It’s not my fault you’re an old man who needs a break.”

Derek narrows his eyes. “If you’re planning on making a jab at my stamina, let me remind you of that time you and your oh so youthful and endless energy failed when -“

“Yeah, okay, point taken,” Stiles interrupts him hastily. Derek smirks. “Rude.”

Derek throws one arm around Stiles waist and pulls him down until he’s lying flush against his side so he can tangle their legs together and nuzzle his face against Stiles’ shoulder. “Wake me up in ten minutes,” he says, already surrendering to the tiredness, “and I’ll show you stamina.”

1. “Stiles we’re not doing that when your dad is sleeping right on the other side of this wall😧”

Finally, an explanation for where they go. 

thank you! Idk if you wanted like a TW movie fix-it, or just some good ol' resurrections, or both, but here's what I found (though no bonus points for me 😭 stereks, that's something to think about!)

Do you have a 100 words for me? ('Cause I have only three) 

“THAT IS MY CHILD.” Stiles roared to the receiver. Stiles’ roar echoed in his own ears as he slammed his fist down on the desk, rattling everything on it. He immediately glanced at Eli, making sure the noise hadn’t disturbed him. The kid barely stirred, his small frame bundled up in blankets on the couch. Stiles took a deep breath, lowering his voice but not his intensity. “You don’t get to decide that, Scott,” he hissed into the phone. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for my kid. That’s my job. And if you think for a second that leaving him out there to fend for himself was somehow a better option than calling me, you’re even more deluded than I thought.” **** After Derek's death Eli struggles with his control over the wolf. Scott and Allison was too busy playing house to help him. So he makes a quick decision to find his other dad. He heard he was magic. Maybe he could help him. Maybe he could bring his dad back. This fic is finished... I just add bonus chapters every now and then 😊❤️

One Thread by RurouniHime 

In the middle of the night, his dad comes into the room and crawls onto the bed behind him, easing Stiles into the vee of his legs. He settles back against the headboard with a groan and doesn’t say anything for a long time. Stiles wraps his arms around one of his dad’s legs, presses his cheek to warm flannel, and tries to be still. “Oh, kid,” his dad exhales. His hand comes down on the side of Stiles’ neck and his fingers press gently. “I never wanted you to know this pain.” (Or, Derek dies. Stiles reacts Badly.)

where they’re at the movies and there’s a particular scene that’s a little too close to home. where Derek’s maybe struggling to watch but cannot pull his eyes away from it either. his hand searching out for Stiles’, finding it on Stiles’ knee and just interlocking their fingers without warning. it catches Stiles off guard but he sees the discomfort in Derek’s face even as the lights from the movie dance around. Stiles doesn’t say anything, just squeezes Derek’s hand in his.

where they’re sitting in the camaro, keeping a lookout for whatever it is that’s terrorizing the town for the week. Stiles, of course, is stuffing his face with curly fries and an XL slushie, rambling in between breaths about his studies, pack drama, his dad’s health, whatever comes to mind. Derek’s happy to just sit and listen as he stares out the windshield. he’s not exactly uncomfortable, nothing is wrong, and yet, he can’t help but grab Stiles’ hand as they continue to wait. it probably takes him more than a few minutes to realize he’d been rubbing his thumb over Stiles’ knuckles ( which may have inadvertently caused Stiles to slow down when talking.. and eating )

maybe even at pack meeting/night. there’s too many voices overlapping, too many different opinions, everyone thinking they’re right and somehow no one is wrong. Derek tries closing his eyes, rubbing at his temples, trying his damndest to tune everyone out until he can find a way to get a word in. he finds himself grabbing Stiles’ free hand, already running his thumb over Stiles’ knuckles, counting quietly to himself in his head just for a moment. that seems to shut the pack up, all of their eyes locking in on Derek’s hand in Stiles’. when Derek lets go, staring back at the curious expressions, Stiles just grabs Derek’s hand again, breaking the silence by saying, “now that everyone’s quiet, can we finally let Derek speak?” Derek looks to Stiles slightly stunned, to which Stiles only nods with a smile, giving Derek’s hand a light, reassuring squeeze.

Derek ( and Stiles ) would become so used to it. Derek would be so spoiled by it. Stiles offering up his hand whenever he was in the presence of Derek. didn’t matter if Derek was in distress or not, Stiles would splay out his hand waiting for Derek to take it. and Derek would find so much comfort in how warm, firm but soft Stiles’ hands were. how Stiles’ grip was never too tight or loose. that occasionally Stiles would rub circles into Derek’s knuckles, or fidget with Derek’s fingers, or clasp both hands over Derek’s one, creating a cocoon of warmth.

one day, Stiles would walk into the loft finding Derek at his worst, emotionally. immediately, Stiles grabbed Derek by the hand, pulling him towards the couch and making him sit awfully close. he’d press his forehead against Derek’s temple, his hand still intertwined with Derek’s as he whispered reassurance and comforting words that soothed Derek. they’d share a few deep breaths, that heavy feeling on Derek’s shoulders lifting.

Derek freezes when he feels lips pressed against the back of his hand. words catch in his throat, unable to form a single thought as he stares back into Stiles’ eyes, completely lost in them ( which tends to happen more times than Derek thinks ). the only coherent thought Derek has is to kiss him back, so he does, finally getting to feel and taste Stiles’ lips against his own. Derek basks in how sweet and soft Stiles feels; how it brings him just as much comfort as their hands clasped together, as if this is how they’ve meant to be this entire time.

when their lips finally part, Derek reciprocates leaving kisses against Stiles’ knuckles. eventually he finds words to muster up, expressing to Stiles how surprised he is by how much comfort Stiles brings him, the security he feels just from being around him.

“i don’t feel this calm with anyone else,” Derek admits.

Derek: 'I'm fine' Stiles: 🚨🚨🚨 (honestly this goes both ways for these two)

Birthday gift art for @sparassiss who requested Stiles holding Derek after a crappy day, and you know what - a good ol' Stilinski Hug would probably fix him a lil' bit ♡