why is my name on the king?

i’ve hit another hundred followers on my twitter account @getsteREKT so once again im posting another fic rec post!

as always these fics will be of all tropes so be sure to read the warnings and tags of all fics you wish to read to make sure each fic IS for you. x

my personal favourites will be marked with a **

——————————-

i’ll always choose you (even when i’m drunk) by trilliastra

He looks at his hand curiously, he’s always had a ring? He can’t remember.

“Yeah.” The guy comes back into the bedroom, helps Stiles sit up and drink some water. “It’s your wedding ring.”

“I’m married?” He yells, making the guy flinch. “I’m married!” He looks between his ring and the guy with pretty eyes in front of him. Oh, no. “I’m married.” He repeats, sadly. He doesn’t want to be married!

“Are you – crying?” The guy asks, reaches out to touch Stiles’ face.

“I don’t wanna be married!” He cries out. “I wanna marry you.”

WORDS: 794

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: General

WARNINGS: none

BYOP by   dragon_temeraire ***

Stiles helps Derek revive a family tradition.

WORDS: 2003

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: Teen and up

WARNINGS: None

Second Chances by  rootbeer ****

“A lot of times the ‘markings’ were common, simple things you said to strangers all the time. ‘Excuse me’; 'thank you’; 'hello’. Some got extremely romantic things like 'it’s you isn’t it? I’ve been waiting for you’ or 'Wow you’re really pretty’. And they were always the first words their soulmate would ever say to them.

Of course, having 'You are the fucking worst kind of person in the world’ tattooed down your side, didn’t bode well. How fucked up was Stiles Stilinski that even his fucking Soulmate hated him? High School had been a special kind of hell when all the kids learned what his tattoo said—despite his best efforts to keep it a secret.”

WORDS: 2624

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: General

WARNINGS: None

Oops by Little Spoon (JaydenNara)

Derek was the one that brought Stiles dinner when he knew Stiles had forgotten, and Derek was the one that massaged Stiles’ feet when he was stressed. When they watched a movie, Stiles snuggled up against him, and Stiles trusted Derek enough to fall asleep on his shoulder. When Stiles woke up in the middle of the night screaming, Derek was the one that held until he fell back asleep, and in return, Stiles would help him count his fingers when Derek wasn’t sure if he was awake.

Derek and Stiles were just friends. Oops?

WORDS: 2852

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: Teen and Up

WARNINGS: None

Just a Hobby by kaistrex (weishen)

Five times Deputy Derek shelters his partner from the supernatural and the one time he discovers he’s just been making a fool of himself.

WORDS: 3014

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: Teen And Up

WARNINGS: none

Soft Derek, Warm Stiles, No One is a Little Ball of Fur by tiedtogetherwithadagger

Stiles is wiping down the counters and humming California Gurls to himself when the bell above the door chimes and Derek walks in. The next notes of the song get stuck in his throat and he freezes. Stiles shouldn’t be surprised, really. The rest of the pack have already been by to visit him, even Jackson. Of course, Boyd was the only person Stiles ended up giving a free drink to, much to their disappointment. So what if he had favorites? How could he not when Boyd was the one to get him ComiCon tickets?

Derek swaggers up to the counter Stiles is stationed behind, because that’s the only way Derek apparently knows how to walk. He’s wearing a maroon knitted sweater today that looks unfairly cozy. Stiles slaps his own hand down from reaching out and touching the fabric because that would be weird. Although slapping yourself might be weirder. Oh well.

WORDS: 3728

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: General

WARNINGS: none

So Color Me Green With Disgust (or maybe with envy) by lapsus_calami

Derek’s as straight as a ruler and he’s totally okay with that. He’s also okay with Stiles being as straight as a bendable squiggly straw. Or at least he thought he was. Recent events have him wondering if he’s secretly some sort of homophobe, and it’s seriously starting to affect his and Stiles’ relationship in a bad way.

WORDS: 3828

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: Teen and Up

WARNINGS: none

Coaches Cupcake Coffee House by  ChildOfTheRevolution

Danny looked at him as if he were crazy, ‘It means he wants to ride the dick Stiles.’ He said slowly, as if talking to the mentally insane.

‘Ride the dick, my dick?’ Stiles asked weakly.

‘Figuratively speaking of course, Derek looks more like a topper to me. And you, my friend, are a twink of the most twinkiest standards, but I’m not one to judge.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Stiles admitted, finding himself in a weird crouch-like stance that he apparently now adopts when he’s overwhelmed about finding out Derek Hotcakes wants to bone him three ways to Sunday.

WORDS: 4821

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: Teen and Up

WARNINGS: none

something’s missing by trilliastra

Sometimes Derek still asks himself why Kate kept the baby. And then he just tries to shake those thoughts away because even imagining Michael not being here, alive, hurts too much.

WORDS: 5032

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: Teen and Up

WARNINGS: none

Ghost Blanket and the Wolf by PaintedRecs **

Derek’s badly in need of hugs, Stiles decides shortly before Halloween. His pack is secure and stable, but he still hovers on its edges, as though not quite sure where he belongs. Will the magic of Halloween night, and a cherished Stilinski tradition, be enough to lift that weight off his shoulders?

WORDS: 6434

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: Teen and Up

WARNINGS: flufff

***Derek vs. Helen (SERIES) by thedevilyousay

Important OTP question: Which one aggressively argues with the suburban soccer moms at the PTA meeting and flips Helen’s 9x12 pan of betty crocker brownies?

WORDS: 8,730

WORKS: 3

COMPLETE?: Probably

WARNINGS: none

****Painted Wooden Letters by DiscontentedWinter

All he ever wanted to be was Stiles Stilinski.

WORDS: 10,011

CHAPTERS: 5/5

RATINGS: Teen and Up

WARNINGS: Rape/Non-con, Underage, mentions of child abuse.

(Not gonna lie, this fic hit me really hard. Its very brutal and you will cry most likely. PLEASE make sure to read the warnings before reading this fic, if any of the warnings are triggers to you, then please dont read this.)

My Boys by losingmyangelgrace

“Afternoon Sheriff, sir, what can I do you for?” he might as well try for innocence.

Something definitely wasn’t right though. He took a deep breath in through his nose. That scent…it didn’t smell like John Stilinski, if anything else, despite some of the layers being different, scents change as a person gets older and there were some he didn’t recognise, but the core of it? It smelt like-

“Holy shit! Derek Hale!”

Stiles.

Stiles was the Sheriff? Derek did not see that one coming.

(In which Derek returns to Beacon Hills after fourteen years away)

WORDS: 11,354

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: Teen and Up

WARNINGS: none

Striking Matches by castielblues & eeyore9990

Stiles has only ever wanted to protect his family and his pack. That’s not easy to do when you’re human and sarcasm is your only defense. Now Deaton is telling Stiles he’s a spark, and if that’s a weapon in his arsenal, he’s sure as hell going to learn to use it.

All Stiles needs now, to complete his transformation into a true badass, is a training montage and a decent soundtrack…

WORDS: 14,923

CHAPTERS: 2/2

RATING: Teen and Up

WARNINGS: Graphic Violence

Momentum by  TatsuKitty

“That’s how he knew where Erica and Boyd were.” He growled and stood to pace the length of the apartment. Melissa observed quietly while he processed and silently picked him apart. He was obviously possessive and protective but his facial expressions and motions were harsh, a bit wild, just a touch of the wolf showing in the man. Finding out that Derek was a werewolf had almost made a kind of poetic sense.

“I’d guess. I don’t know what happened with them. I know they died.” She reached out and placed a hand on Derek’s forearm. He went totally still like a rabbit caught in the eyes of a fox and stared at her. “I’m sorry.”

“Wh–¬what ?” he just blinked at her, still totally frozen.

WORDS: 14,934

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: Mature

WARNINGS: Underage, mentions of depression

Maggie May by Spikedluv

When Laura Hale died, she left behind a daughter, Maggie. Stiles (and his dad) have been caring for Maggie since the night Laura disappeared. Unbeknownst to Stiles, however, Maggie’s a werewolf, and she’s bonded with Stiles. Which means he feels extra protective when Peter Hale appears on the scene. (He may have also developed a little crush on Maggie’s uncle, the silent and brooding Derek Hale. Who said Stiles’ life was boring?)

WORDS: 24,997

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATINGS: Mature

WARNINGS: Underage

Adding You to My Future by NekoIzumi

“So, I’m Stiles.” he smiled warmly once he had put his unannounced patient down on the exam table. “I will poke and prod you a little bit to check for internal injuries, those that I can’t see because they’re inside you, and some of it might hurt but it will pass, I promise. I will tell you everything I’m about to do and why I’m doing it so just stay calm and this will go like a breeze, okay?”

Now, Stiles wasn’t stupid in any way, shape or form, he knew a were when he saw one… although he had obviously never seen a werecat before, and definitely not one as young as this one.

WORDS:  42,252

CHAPTERS: 9/9

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence

The More That I Know You (the more I want to) by LadySlytherin

When death, in the form of hunters, comes for a family of Kelpies seeking refuge in the Preserve - in Hale territory - the Hale Pack is too late to save them. Before he dies, the male Kelpie presses a precious bundle into Stiles’ arms and begs the Emissary to take responsibility for it, which an initially reluctant Stiles does. When he agreed, Stiles had no idea what the sight of him with a baby would do to his esteemed Alpha, Derek. If he’d known, he might not have been so reluctant to agree.

WORDS: 43,655

CHAPTERS: 1/1

RATING: Mature

WARNINGS: canon-typical violence

Pale Horses by Dark_K

Being bitten had never been on his to-do list, but he could deal with that. Helping Derek Hale become a competent Alpha, though, that was so not in his job description.

WORDS: 56,071

CHAPTERS: 15/15

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: Graphic Violence, Underage, Derek is a lil weird

Play It Again by metisket

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

WORDS: 63,206

CHAPTERS: 3/3

RATING: Teen and Up

WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence

It’s a mad, mad world by ElisAttack

“They call him the Feral Wolf.” The man laughs hysterically as Stiles backs away from him, fear coursing through his veins. “Feral Hale. Do you know why? Huh?” The man creeps closer, testing the restraint of his chains, white talcum falling from his skin, swirling in the air like the dust devils plaguing the wasteland. “Because he’s fucking mad.”

Or the one where Stiles is a prisoner looking to return home, but to do so, he may have to rely on a questionable drifter.

WORDS: 73,627

CHAPTERS: 11/11

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: Graphic Violence

(Sacred) In The Ordinary by  idyll ***

The Pack, after college, graduate school and the starting of careers, comes back to Beacon Hills. Nothing’s gotten less complicated after all this time.

Based on a kink meme prompt that grew legs and got serious.

Note: This is a whole lot of pack!fic with a very slow build Derek/Stiles

WORDS: 78,759

CHAPTERS: 9/9

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Didn’t See That Coming by knittersrevolt

Stiles leaves Beacon Hills in the dust after he catches his husband cheating on him.

He finds his way to New York where he starts working for the Hale House Nursery, accidentally adopts a werewolf baby (through no fault of his own thank-you-very-much), and somehow starts training to be an Exorcist Emissary. So, in general, life was going good.

Then he hears that demons have found their way into his hometown. Can he face his inner demons and go back to save the day?

WORDS: 83,838

CHAPTERS: 43/43

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: Violence

A Life for a Life, Makes the Whole World Bound by augopher

Stiles was lonely; there was no other way of putting it. The Nogitsune had left the pack a wary of him, not that they thought it had been his fault. No, they worried it would happen again. Once bitten, twice shy. The morning after his 18th birthday, his torso was covered in mysterious green tattoos. He hadn’t been that drunk. He’d definitely remember that. Great. Something else to make him feel like a freak. Insomnia led him to his mother’s diary and a tale of how she helped an odd man once who gave her the warning, “Be careful of your wishes three.“ Everything clicked into place. So…he was a djinni. He subtly changed things about himself. More muscle? Done. Better hair? Done and done. End his crippling insecurity? Done, done, done. He hid his new gift until he found himself bound to Derek. With Deaton’s help, they translated meanings in his tattoos, but they were incomplete. A passage of his 'Rules and Regulations’ was missing. Everything was fine dandy until Stiles’ new powers and penchant for mischief and karmic retribution threatened to destroy him, fracture his mind, and turn him into something which couldn’t be contained. Could the pack save him in time, and at what price?

WORDS: 90,697

CHAPTERS: 26/26

RATING: Mature

WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of violence

Of Course It’s Fairies by  HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere

While still suffering from the after effects of the Nogitsune, Stiles and the pack stumble upon and save a trapped fairy. The boy’s parents, not wanting to be in the pack’s debt, offer each member of the pack who assisted in the rescue, the opportunity to bring a loved one back from the dead.

Having been blissfully reunited with several of their once-lost friends and family members, everyone must work together to figure out how to function as a new pack, and how to defeat a new incoming threat.

WORDS: 100,267

CHAPTERS: 54/54

RATING: Not Rated

WARNINGS: None

When I’m Gone by MissYuki1990

Stiles is leaving. For good if he has any say in it. He gave everything to them and received nothing in return, so who can blame him for wanting to leave and find his place in the world. Apparently? Everyone and their uncle.

WORDS: 108,584

CHAPTERS: 10/10

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence

I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek. (series) by   DiscontentedWinter ***

Stiles finds a baby on the porch.It looks exactly like him.Well, this is awkward.

WORDS: 127,012

WORKS: 3

COMPLETE: Yes

RATED: Explicit

Home by TheTypewriterGirl ****

January seventh. Seven days since the start of 2015, and seven days since his father’s death.

The bastard, he thinks bitterly. The past year Derek Hale had made it blatantly obvious that he hated his scrawny guts, taking every given opportunity to shove him up against a wall, growl threats in his ears and roll his eyes whenever he stepped into the room, muttering some snide comment about how spastic or idiotic he was.

So why did he fucking volunteer to take him in?

WORDS: 167,178

CHAPTERS: 18/18

RATING: Teen and Up

Top 50 Ships (as voted by my followers) 37: Stiles Stilinski & Derek Hale (Teen Wolf)

Does ANYONE know this fix it sterek fic where Derek gets really close with the Stilinski family during season 1, to the point where he’s calling the sheriff Dad and I think he lives with them? Stiles is magic maybe???

I remember one part where it’s the scene where they’re all locked in the school during season 1 and Derek calls the Sheriff and calls him Dad over the phone and Scott, Jackson, Allison and Lydia are all shocked!!

But never let it be said that I don’t have hundreds of ideas for dragons, so here, have Sterek and a baby dragon, the result of two days’ worth of insomnia and a beta by my beloved @seanconneraille (keep in mind that it’s 4 AM here, so all the errors left are totally mine)

–

It all starts when Stiles trips on a rock in the forest.

As always, Derek is the one walking closest to him and he manages to catch him by the collar of his shirt, using a combination of werewolf reflexes and years of knowing Stiles.

Stiles hangs in the air for a second before Derek shoves him back on his feet, Stiles swearing colorfully at the rock the whole way up. The rest of the pack keeps gossiping about the new restaurant in town, walking away from them both without a look backward.

All in all, it’s a Monday as usual. 

Until the rock at their feet swears back.

Well, squeaks. In an angry way.

Derek looks down at the very boring, big, grey rock that tried to break Stiles’ neck. The rock looks back with one tiny, golden, disturbingly-out-of-place eye.

Ao3

He’d been gone for…he doesn’t know how long. No one could remember. Which was kinda the whole point. But he knew that his mom had been back. That his dad had gotten his mom back. And that she was gone again now, because Stiles was back. And he knew, deep down that it wasn’t his fault. And that his father would never blame him for that. His father who had fought so hard to find him. But that didn’t stop Stiles from blaming himself.

He walked into his room slowly, expecting it to look different after…everything. But it looked the same. Still the organized mess it always was. Scott had asked if he wanted some company. Stiles had shaken his head and told him no. He needed some time. To just…be. He was back now. And things were settling. But there was something he couldn’t shake. Couldn’t get it out of his head.

They’d forgotten him. Every single person he knew, and loved, had forgotten him. Which was the point of the hunt. But it still hurt. Being forgotten.

He lay on his bed, eyes closed, legs dangling over the side, just breathing.

And then his phone buzzed.

He jumped in his skin and then scrambled around on his bed to find it. He’d gone so long without it that he’d sort of just…forgotten about it. The irony wasn’t missed on him, he snorted as he threw his pillows off the bed, getting frantic now. His thumb hit something hard under his blanket and he made a noise in his throat and grabbed at his phone. Laughing dumbly when he saw all the notifications on the screen. The battery was almost dead too. He grabbed his charger and then opened his phone.

46 Missed calls from Derek Hale.

32 Texts from Derek Hale.

5 Voicemails from Derek Hale.

1 Text from Melissa.

Date AU: I’m on a blind date and the guy/gal starts ranting about how “art isn’t a viable form of work, and how it’s not needed in schools” and you just walked up and schooled them while serving us our food order about how important art is in society, and left your number on my plate written in mustard.

You know what, I have a ton of prompts waiting for me but this is just too funny to pass up so here goes (with Derek as the poor blind date) - I changed it a little, I hope you don’t mind ;)

On AO3

The moment Whatshisface rolls his eyes in disgust is the only moment of the evening when Derek can understand why Erica thought they would be a good match.

Yes, eurgh indeed. Derek isn’t sure they are “eurghing” for the same thing, though.

The man is exuding “elitist” and “spoiled” from every pore, and though he could be seen as conventionally attractive, his personnality is quickly turning him into the ugliest of gargoyles in Derek’s eyes.

“Can you believe this?”

With extreme difficulty, if “this” refers to this date. “Hm?”

“This,” Snobby McSnotty says, pointing at the highlighted dish on the menu. “They want us to pay extra for a pizza under the pretext of supporting the neighborhood’s school Arts program.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Derek says, not only because he knows it will bring this sham of a date to a shorter shelf life, but also because, well, he does believe Arts in school are an important part of the social fabric and the way children grow into adults.

Exhibit A, Mr Douche in front of him who probably stayed in a corner for all of his art classes as a child.

(also on AO3)

Stiles is dating a mobster. Or a gang member. Mafia man? Crime lord?

Whatever. He doesn’t know exactly what terminology to use because Derek has  never outright confirmed it, but it’s so obvious. Stiles’ boyfriend is definitely a part of some sketchy underground syndicate of criminal activity and it’s like he isn’t even trying to hide it.

Stiles tabbed out barely an hour after he’d gotten to the club. He’d thought that, being new to the city, going out clubbing at the hottest joint in town would be a good way to meet people in the area, but all he’d gotten were a few appreciative looks and two polite brush-offs. At this rate, he figured he might as well go back to his apartment where the booze was cheaper.

He made it three blocks before someone jumped out of an alley at him. It was a blur of movement, a burst of sound, a jolt of adrenaline and, you know, this was exactly the kind of shit his dad had warned him about when he’d said he wanted to move to the big city. He really should listen to his dad more often.

Stiles had never been mugged before so he wasn’t entirely sure of the protocol, but he thought a little panicking was understandable and even warranted. There was a lot of yelling and some waving around of what might’ve been a weapon—it was too dark to really see—and then, quite unexpectedly, there was a wall of leather in Stiles’ field of vision.

It was a leather-clad back, broad and muscled, and it belonged to the single most intimidating man Stiles had ever laid eyes on. Absolutely gorgeous, Stiles discovered when the man shot a glance back at him, but definitely intimidating with his chiseled jaw and painted-on stubble and thick eyebrows pulled down in a scowl that could make a stone bleed just by looking at it.

He sounded calm, though, when he said: “You should rethink this course of action.”

If Stiles had been slightly less terrified, he might’ve laughed. He sort of wanted to laugh anyway, but that was probably just a bout of hysteria. His attacker didn’t laugh, though. He sneered and said, “Who are you supposed to be?”

Leather Guy shrugged. “I’m a Hale,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve heard of my mother, Talia.”

The names meant nothing to Stiles, but the mugger hesitated. Weapon of indeterminate lethality still in hand, he bounced on his heels a bit like he was contemplating making a move on them anyway, even if he was risking Talia Hale’s apparent wrath.

Before he could make a decision, there were footsteps from the other end of the alley. Stiles peeked over Leather Guy’s shoulder to see three more people, dramatically silhouetted by the streetlamps’ glow; two men and a woman. All wearing leather jackets. What the hell was this, some kind of fashion statement? A uniform?

Whatever it was, the mugger clearly deemed it too much. He dropped his weapon and held up his hands in surrender. Stiles’ knight in black leather scooped up the weapon—a knife, as it turned out—and flipped it over in his hand, then jerked his head at the mugger dismissively.

The mugger took off running, scraping his back along the wall to avoid the others when they didn’t move out of his way.

Leather Guy watched him go, then turned back to Stiles. Goddamn it, his smile was as intimidating as his muscles and twice as attractive.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Stiles said with a dry mouth. “Thanks for that.”

An arm was suddenly thrown over Stiles’ shoulder, making him jump.

“Don’t worry, kid,” the woman from the alley mouth said, a sharp grin on her red lips. “We got your back.”

Leather Guy nodded solemnly like it was some kind of promise, and as Stiles was led out of the alley by an escort of leather-wearing badasses, he had the very strong feeling that he’d just joined a gang.

Pulling the Pieces Together by Cuddlehazz (fireflystiles) 

(Complete | 30k | PG 13)

“You never have hurt anyone. Not then and not now. You just made Coach piss his pants and that’s funny shit there.” Jackson told Stiles. They all underestimated how responsible Stiles felt for the Nogitsune and what happened. No wonder he was afraid to go near the pack, not to mention the whole no control over magic thing. He felt Stiles huff out a breath at the part about Coach which was a good start.

Or after the Nogitsune, Stiles keeps secrets, there are new people in Beacon Hills, and the Pack has fallen apart. Stiles starts to figure out his role in the pack, piecing it back together, and trying to keep everyone safe.

It doesn’t take long after the fire for Derek’s skin to start itching. It starts in the tips of his fingers and then spreads up the length of his arms and inward until there’s a low-level persistent awareness under every inch of his skin. He and Laura are too busy grieving, and then running to New York, and then trying to survive that there’s little attention paid to their frayed pack bond. Laura attempts to touch him, to reassure him sometimes, clumsy in the way new and untrained Alphas tend to be. He pulls away every time.

When he becomes Alpha, the itch intensifies. All of his instincts are telling him he needs a pack, and in his own newness, he makes mistakes. He makes four mistakes, and the biggest leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, like chlorine and poison. He doesn’t bite anyone after that, but the taste lingers.

After his betas leave him, the awareness hollows, becomes dull and heavy; it feels a lot like loneliness.

It’s surprising then, when Stiles begins dropping by his apartment. At first it’s only to do his homework. “What? My Dad’s been taking longer shifts and it’s easier to concentrate here,” Stiles says with a shrug when Derek raises an eyebrow at him in question. Derek can hear what he isn’t saying, so he lets him be. It’s kind of nice, being able to be that for someone.

He keeps coming, even after school is over for the semester and there isn’t the excuse of homework. More bafflingly, he starts coming over with food. “I’ve seen the state of your fridge and pantry, dude. I don’t know how you still look like that with all the junk you eat,” Stiles scoffs as he unloads his backpack and spreads Tupperware full of caesar salad, garlic bread, and lasagne over his table. There’s enough for four people, so he knows he’s allowed when he takes a plate (disposable, because he doesn’t have any plates or bowls or cutlery – how do you not have any, Derek?) and the smell and taste of it make his eyes sting a little. He hasn’t had home-cooking in a long time.

Scott and Kira have been taken and the pack are setting out to get them back, but Stiles is uneasy, he has a feeling that something will go wrong and he might as well take a chance and do something at least once before he dies: kiss Derek.

For @loveyprophet  ♥

Stiles stood still, listening to everyone bicker, voices echoing about the hollow warehouse as they tried to organise who was going to drive which cars. In the end, Braeden was elected as the driver of the prisoner transport van she had acquired; if Liam was coming with them, no one was going to take a chance when the full moon rose. Malia and Liam stood by the back of the van, and Peter and Derek stood by Derek’s silver four-wheel-drive.

Stiles left the group, crossing across the dusty concrete floor to the small store room. He began to dig though the bags of supplies, gathering water, food, blankets, medical supplies and anything else they may need before shoving it all in a large pack.

His mind was reeling with thoughts, his gut twisting nauseatingly as he couldn’t help but think of every painful situation Scott and Kira could be in.

“Need a hand?” a quiet voice asked from the doorway, startling Stiles.

He spun around and looked at the man who lingered in the door to the supply room. He slouched against the wooden frame, his glittering aventurine eyes focused on Stiles. The depths of his eyes shifted from hazel to jade green as they caught the light, unable to hide the worry that darkened his eyes. His tanned skin seemed to glow against the dark fabric of his leather jacket and dark Henley. His soft whiskers framed his firm jaw and his eyebrows were raised quizzically.

“I’ve got this,” Stiles muttered, turning back to the bags he was stuffing supplies into.

“Stiles,” Derek started slowly.

“I’m fine,” Stiles interrupted, knowing what Derek was about to say. “I just want to save Scott.”

“He’s going to be okay, you know that, right?”

“No, Derek, I don’t know that,” Stiles snapped, turning on Derek and glaring at him.

Stiles paused, his jaw tense with anger and his eyes filling with warm tears.

He turned away, bowed his head and let out a dejected sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his choice broken and raspy.

Derek stepped into the supply room, the door falling shut behind him. He stepped over to Stiles’ side, setting a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispered, craning his neck to look Stiles in the eye. “I know you’re scared about losing your best friend, but Scott’s going to be okay. And Kira is too.”

Stiles glanced up and met Derek’s gaze, watching as his pale irises were consumed with black and he looked at Stiles lovingly.

Stiles swallowed hard against the lump in his throat, feeling his heart beat faster as it slammed against his ribs; his ribs aching as his limbs grew stiff, yearning to move.

He took a step closer, closing the space between them as he tilted his head and brought their lips together. He stood still, stiff and unsure what to do. His hands stayed by his side and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for Derek to react.

Jock! Derek saving Nerd!Stiles life in gym class {ao3} 

If Stiles had to describe himself in a few words, he would say that he was a genius, plaid-loving comic book nerd/cinnamon roll too good for this world! He would not, however, profess that he was any good at sports.

To be frank, Stiles and sports did not mix. Sports required a modicum of physical strength, agility, and prowess, none of which Stiles himself possessed. Which was precisely why it was absurd that the State of California required clumsy, ill-coordinated and accident-prone Stiles to pass Phys. Ed in order to graduate from high school. It was one thing to force him to attend, it was another thing entirely to expect him to participate.

“Bilinski, get your ass in here,” Coach Finstock hollered.

Stiles gulped and took one look at the aggressive basketball game happening on the court in front of him and blanched. The guys were all so violent and intense with each other, jabbing into each other with their elbows and tripping over each other’s feet. Stiles wanted no part in that. He tripped over his own feet just fine, thank you. Although, as someone more dude-inclined, seeing all those sweaty, muscular boys dashing around on the court wasn’t the worst sight. Just something he himself did not want to be involved in, whether the State of California mandated it or not.

“Really, I’m fine here, Coach,” Stiles said and patted the sturdy bench he was sitting on. It was a good bench. It’d been a companion of his for most of the year and it would be a shame to break up such a long and healthy relationship.

Coach Finstock walked over to him and huffed. “We need feet on the ground, Bilinski. We’re down a man so just get your butt out there and try not to get hit.”

“But—But—” Stiles protested as Finstock grabbed him by the arm and hauled him up. “I’ve got this back thing I shouldn’t mess with. It could be a sprain or a break even!”  

“Look, do you want to pass my class or not?” Finstock demanded. “You still need at least a D- from me to graduate and get into whatever fancy smancy Ivy League school you’ve applied to. Don’t make me flunk you so hard that you’ll never get into Harvard.”

“Actually, Coach,” Stiles interjected helpfully, “I could still get into Harvard regardless of how well I do in gym. As nice as athleticism looks on a resume, it is nowhere near as valuable as academic excellence and my hours upon hours of extracurricular activities and volunteer work.”

“I don’t need a lecture right now, Bilinski!” Finstock cried, the veins in his forehead popping out. “I need more men out on that court! So get those feet moving! Do you understand!”

“Y-y-yes,” Stiles stammered nervously.

“You’re on Hale’s team.” Finstock pushed him towards the other boys who had all stopped playing and looked at Stiles with visible dread. “If you get your hands on the ball, just pass it to Hale. Remember that. Pass. It. To. Hale.”  

“Right.” Stiles chewed on his nails, his anxiety running high. “Pass it to Derek. Shouldn’t be that hard. Yeah.”

It was indeed that hard. Stiles’ stamina had never been tested so much in his life. All this pointless running back and forth, attempting to get rebounds, and trying not to lose his “man” even though Stiles hadn’t the damnedest clue who that person was. His legs were dog-tired and his lungs were gasping for air as the game dragged on and on and on… Seriously, why would anyone ever do this for fun?!

Urgh, Derek Hale made it look so flippin’ easy. Artfully maneuvering past every person on the court and dunking the ball right into the net with a cocky grin stretching across his face while he dangled from the basket. He was honestly the world’s biggest show off. It wasn’t enough that he was a legend at Beacon Hills High; standout star of the basketball team, captain of the lacrosse team, and All-American in cross country. He just had to rub it in people’s faces all the time. Stupid jocks!

Stiles would’ve found Derek’s arrogant attitude downright intolerable if it wasn’t for his huge pathetic crush on said stupid jock. Yes, Stiles was already well aware that he’d fallen into an overused cliché. He, a nerd, was in love with the most popular and sought after boy in the whole school. He knew his crush was never going anywhere. Derek didn’t even know Stiles existed. And why would he? The guy was an Adonis. He was far above Stiles’ league. Still, that didn’t stop Stiles from scribbling Mr. Stilinski-Hale all over his notebooks.

In fact, it was his getting so distracted by Derek—because yes, Stiles was thirsty as fuck and would never regret taking every opportunity to stop and gawk at Derek’s rippling muscles and perfect ass—that caused him to miss seeing Jackson Whittemore stick his foot out and purposely trip Stiles while he was running with the ball.  

It was one of Stiles’ more embarrassing falls for sure. The mortification alone of it happening in front of Derek made it worthy of The Loser Stilinski Hall of Fame. He went soaring through the air then face planted hard on the gymnasium floor. The whole class winced for him in unison as Coach Finstock blew the whistle and called a foul.

“I think I need the nurse,” Stiles moaned into the floor, deciding it was better for himself and his pride if he just stayed down for good.

A soft chuckle came from above him before someone took a hold of his arm and pulled him up off of the ground with ease. As if Stiles weighed nothing.

“Well, someone’s dramatic,” the laugh sounded again.

One of my Secret Santa gifts! This one was for @cats4stiles! If you haven’t checked out @stereksecretsanta‘s 2017 contributions, you should! 

John’s cat allergy has the unexpected perk of letting Stiles and Derek discover each other.in new ways. Featuring pining, very enthusiastic cat parenting, and accidental dating! On AO3 here!

*****

“Turns out my dad’s allergic to cats, who knew, right?” Stiles says as soon as Derek opens the door. He steps around Derek to enter the loft, arm and shoulder brushing against Derek’s and leaving a pleasantly distracting warmth behind. There’s something weird about his scent, something new, and it throws Derek off enough that it takes him a moment to process what Stiles has said. Not that it made any sense as a greeting to begin with, but over the years he’s grown accustomed to the non sequiturs.

As Derek turns to find Stiles sprawled comfortably across the couch–a sight which fills Derek with a contentment he tries to ignore–his inquiry of “And this is important because?” is cut short when he notices the source of the change in Stiles’ scent. There’s a small kitten, barely big enough to be weaned and clearly enamored with Stiles, batting her tiny white and orange paws at Stiles’ long fingers as they wiggle in front of her. After a few seconds of daydreaming about those fingers, Derek shakes his head slightly to chase the thoughts away; now is not the time for thinking about how Stiles’ fingers would feel on his skin, or what it would be like to weave his own between them.

“That’s a cat,” Derek says, wincing at the absurdity of the statement the second it’s out of his mouth.

Stiles snorts. “Very good, Der, glad you’re paying attention,” he teases, his voice softer than usual, presumably in deference to the cat, who Stiles can’t seem to stop smiling at.

He tries to keep his responding laugh annoyed, but he knows it comes out fond instead. Stiles knows it too, because he tears his attention away from the kitten to smile at Derek.

Clearing his throat to break the tension he’s pretty sure only he’s feeling, Derek says “I meant, why do you have a cat? In my house, specifically.”

Stiles looks at him again, rolling his eyes slightly, as though the answer is obvious. “Because dad is allergic. I thought you were keeping up?”

Derek sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment. He may possibly be a little bit in love with Stiles, but no one could irritate him quite so efficiently.

“That answers literally zero of my questions, Stiles. And why’d you get a cat in the first place if your dad’s allergic?”

“First of all,” Stiles sighs, fondly exasperated, “I didn’t know he was allergic until he came home from work this morning and started sneezing. Secondly,” he continues, cradling the kitten to his chest so he can sit up without dislodging her from where she’s fallen asleep, tiny purrs coming from her tiny body. “Secondly, I didn’t get her on purpose. Someone left her in a box in the parking lot on campus. Like a heartless monster, just abandoned her,” Stiles defends, a frown between his brows as his anger for the faceless abandonner of kittens leaks into his words and his fingers began absently scratching between the kitten’s ears. “Scott and Deaton checked her out, but they’re all out of foster homes for cats right now, and I couldn’t just leave her because she made the saddest little sound when I even mentioned it. So I obviously had to adopt her. But then, The Great Stilinski Sneeze Attack happened.” He’s still petting the cat, cooing at her when she wiggles her nose in her sleep. “And C, I’m here because I have something to give you. A present, even,” Stiles says with too much casualness, his scent spiking with nerves in a way that meant he was being less than straightforward as opposed to being anxious.

Oh. Oh no.

“Stiles.”

“Derek.”

“Stiles, no.”

“But, Der! Look at her!” Stiles says, cradling the kitten in his hands and presenting her to Derek like an offering. The kitten wakes up then, blinking her big green eyes sleepily at Derek and unleashing a squeaky yawn as she cocks her head to the side, studying Derek’s face from where Stiles is holding her mere inches away from his nose. “She needs a safe home, big guy. She can’t fend for herself out there in the great big world!”

Derek narrows his eyes at Stiles, who is looking at him with a shockingly accurate imitation of what Stiles would call Scott’s puppy dog face; Derek pretends he’s unaffected, but the kitten takes that moment to reach out with one tiny striped paw and bat at the tip of Derek’s nose. Stiles absolutely cackles as Derek reaches up to brush away the tickly sensation, shooting a shocked glance at the little ball of fluff that is now trying valiantly to escape the cage of Stiles’ hands and climb onto Derek’s face. “See! She loves you already!” Stiles crows triumphantly. Derek doesn’t have it in him to pretend that he’s actually going to fight him on it; he knew he was keeping the cat the second Stiles had flopped down onto his couch and snuggled up with her like it was something he did all the time. Dammit.

“Here,” Stiles says, gently shoving the cat into Derek’s chest, “Hold her a second while I go get her stuff from my car!” And just like that, Stiles is running out the door and Derek is staring at the cat–his cat, apparently–with what he can feel is an incredulous expression.

“Well, hi Cat. Welcome home?”

She mewls at him before nuzzling against his chin. He takes it as assent and moves to fall gracelessly into his favorite overstuffed chair to wait for Stiles to return.