"Sarcasm is my only defense”
feel free to follow me, i usually follow back if we have the same interests. ッ
Summary: They’re combating supernatural forces with blunt instruments now. Seems legit. As long as Stiles doesn’t end up getting frostbite, he’s willing to roll with it. Not that his friends have to worry about that. Fucking werewolves.
Summary: Castiel travels with the angel tablet and without the Winchesters. One day, Dean gets a text from some anonymous number. (They speak in the language of need.)
A post-08.17 Goodbye, Stranger story.
Summary: Stiles and Derek are childhood friends who drifted apart. When Stiles joins the lacrosse team against his will, the universe (with a little help from Laura and Lydia) chooses to push them back together.
↳ A Californian Werewolf in New York by dancinbutterfly, knight_tracer - Oneshot | NC-17 | 16,314
When Derek finally realizes that there’s nothing left for him in Beacon Hills, he goes back to New York, gets a life, falls in love and finds his home.
“Yeah, I just- I don’t know. I wanted to tell you.” Stiles sounds confused by this. “I haven’t even told Scott yet. Isn’t that the weirdest fucking thing you ever heard? Like on a scale of one to were-lizard, this is like a unicorn.”
“You’ve stopped making sense again.”
“I know,” Stiles sighs. “I do that. What happened tonight, it wasn’t real, is all, before I told you. Now it is. Jesus. I had sex. Why the hell am I telling you this? I should be telling Scott.”
“So call him.”
“I don’t want to. I want to talk to you. This big life thing happened and as soon as it was over, all I could think about was telling you.”
“I, um,” Stiles says, and that’s when Derek looks up from his desk and recognises him. “Derek.”
“Stiles,” Derek says back flatly, and Stiles gets a vivid flashback of him moaning Stiles’ name while Stiles sucked him down greedily. It makes him laugh, and then he claps a hand over his mouth.
“Sorry,” he says, muffled. Takes his hand away. “Sorry. I, uh—”
“You really did have a job interview to get ready for,” Derek says, awed.
Stiles scrunches up his face, drops into the chair across from Derek’s desk. “I—yeah, I—” Then his mouth drops open, eyes wide with understanding. “You thought I was lying to skip out on you!”
“I—”
“Oh, Derek, I wouldn’t do that. ‘Specially not to you.” He pauses. “You were, well.” His eyes glaze over.
Derek clears his throat, a scowl slipping into place along with his blush. “Well, that’s.”
“I really did want you to call me,” Stiles goes on. “That was my actual cell phone number I gave you. My real, actual one. That I want you to call. You could call it right now, I’d totally pick up.”
Derek can’t quite suppress a pleased smirk. “I have to interview you.”
“Right, right,” Stiles says, stung. Sits back in the chair. “I, um. Right.”
“And then I’ll call you.”
Stiles brightens immediately. “Really? That is, as long as you interview me completely objectively. No bias.”
“No bias,” agrees Derek.
“I would, however, like to remind you of my deficient gag reflex.” He holds up his hands when Derek glares. “I’m not saying it should sway your decision in any way. I’m just—” He gestures, indicating offering something to Derek. “Just saying a thing. That has nothing to do with this interview whatsoever.”
“Stiles,” Derek says firmly. “Disregarding the fact that you’re being completely unethical right now—”
“Semantics,” Stiles says.
“—I was planning on hiring you anyway. Your resume was impressive and the only other applicant got hired by our competitor.”
“What was his name?” Stiles asks quickly. “Want me to shank him? I—” He hops onto his feet. “Wait, you’re hiring me?”
“As long as you don’t tell anyone it’s because of your earth-shattering blowjobs,” Derek deadpans.
Summary: Derek plans to spend the rest of his life holed up in the woods after Laura dies. Then he meets a stubborn young fox, and the stubborn young fox meets an urn of Deaton’s magic powder, and his plans change.
Well written with an interesting and unique plot! A must read.
Teen Wolf - STEREK AU - Stiles’ prom
Derek refuses to go to prom with Stiles. He knows it’s for Stiles’ own good, but it doesn’t help with the feeling that he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life. And he made a lot of them.
Stiles gets home around two thirty, tosses his bowtie on the desk as he flicks the side light on. The low, golden light illuminates a dark presence sitting at the wall under the window and he yells in shock.
“Derek! What the hell?”
“Did you have a good time?” Derek’s tone is casual, but Stiles can see where his fingers are knotted tightly together around his knees.
“Uh, yeah, was ok, you know, Prom like.”
“Meet anyone special?”
Stiles hesitates, cocks an eyebrow at him. “And if I did, you wouldn’t care anyway, right? Because you said yourself you can’t do whatever this—” he gestures between them, “—Is. So, what does it matter?”
“It doesn’t,” Derek stands, shoves his hands in his pockets. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”
“Home safe? Or, home at all?” Stiles steps in his path as Derek heads for the door, waits for Derek to meet his eye. “Derek.”
“What do you want from me, Stiles?” Derek huffs. “You clearly had a good time without me, anyway. What’s the problem?”
“The problem?” Stiles feels his eyes widen incredulously. “The problem is that I wanted to go with you, dickbag. I got all dressed up, I left a fucking corsage on your porch and you show up here and say I can’t do this, Stiles?! Where the fuck do you get off being pissed at me? It was just Prom, Derek, it’s not like I was asking for forever.”
“That’s what you don’t get,” Derek snaps. “For you going to Prom is for the night, for me, I want more than that. I don’t just want to be seen as some older guy you scored to drag to Prom. I want to fucking be with you because you want me; not some trophy.”
Stiles blinks at him in surprise. “Derek,” he says softly, reaches out and curls a hand round Derek’s wrist, feels relief when Derek doesn’t pull away. “Derek, asking you was a big deal to me. I didn’t want to take you to show you off, I wanted to go to one of the biggest events of my high school career with you because we made it. We fucking survived it all, together. And, and I wanted to make you dance and look all pissed at me, but I’d know you were secretly enjoying it. I’ve seen you swaying to Bonnie Raitt when you think no one’s watching. I wanted to sit at a table covered in confetti and think, fuck man, I’m so glad we’re here, and maybe even hold your damn hand.”
“You didn’t say any of that before,” Derek says stiltedly.
“I was sort of trying not to die of embarrassment, dude. You could have said no. You did say no in the end,” he adds in a dumb, small voice, ducks his head so that Derek won’t see how hurt he is.
Derek tips his chin up, looking at him very seriously. “I’m sorry.”
Stiles swallows, looks back at him for a long time. Derek saying sorry for anything is a big fucking deal. It sort of makes his heart pitter patter. “Just, tell me next time,” he breathes out. “We could have— shit, I had a whole song planned for you and everything.”
“I heard it,” Derek says quietly.
“You,” Stiles pulls back from where Derek’s got a hand curved around his jaw. “You came to Prom?”
“Yeah, I was— I didn’t want to ruin your night completely. I was gonna…” Derek trails off, his face flushing.
“What?”
“I was going to ask if you wanted to dance.”
“Oh, man, we missed out,” Stiles feels his stomach clench. “Because you saw me with that girl? Dude, she’s just a girl I know through Danny and band— she uh, she sings.”
“I heard.”
“You get jealous?” Stiles feels himself grin at the flush on Derek’s cheeks. “Aww, you wanna serenade me, Derek?”
Derek scowls. “Stiles, do you wanna dance?”
“Well, that’s definitely the angriest anyone has ever looked when asking me that question.”
“Stiles.”
“Fine, ugh, yes, of course, idiot.”
He trails a shaky hand up Derek’s shoulder, feels Derek’s fingers wrap around his hips.
“Wait!”
Derek pulls away like he’s been burned and Stiles rolls his eyes, reaches up to kiss his cheek because he can. “No, dumbass, we need music.”
He flicks through itunes for a second, sticks You and Me on and turns to smile at Derek. Cautiously, Derek smiles back. They stand like idiots looking at each other across his bedroom for a moment before he lurches forward.
“You only ever have to ask, you know,” he says quietly as he winds his arms round Derek’s neck.
“I will,” Derek promises. Stiles smiles again and Derek kisses him as the song plays on.
Teen Wolf AU: In which Derek is a teacher at Beacon Hills High School and Stiles deliberately misbehaves to get stuck in detention just so he can ogle that fine piece of ass.
“You know, I love it when you boss me around. Get’s me all hot and bothered.”
“Stiles.” Derek Hale sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t look put out, though. He looks…defeated, in a way. “You can’t go around saying things like that.”
“I can if they’re true,” Stiles insists petulantly.
“What would your father say if I called him and told him his son was sexually harassing me?” Derek asks.
Stiles gapes. “You would never!”
“Wouldn’t I,” Derek says flatly.
“No.” Stiles isn’t actually 100 per cent sure about this. But he is, like, 99 percent sure. His self-confidence is about as high as one would expect from a gangly, awkward, sixteen-year-old spazz, but he has caught Derek staring at his ass. And his mouth. Repeatedly. Lydia confirmed it, too, and Lydia is Queen Of Everything and also Never Wrong, so there. Stiles is pretty certain Derek wants into his pants just as badly as he wants into Derek’s, which is why he doesn’t deem it below himself to get out the cheesy porn lines in he repertoire. “I know you enjoy the flirting just as much as I do. You like the dirty things coming out of my mouth.”
“This is the third time you ended up in detention this week,” Derek reminds his stiffly, ignoring his claim completely.
It’s true. He’s been in detention more often than not since Derek Hale joined the staff of Beacon Hills High School, but only when he knows for certain that the new teacher is supposed to oversee the miscreants. He’s not stupid, and the turns they take are ridiculously easy to figure out. Stiles can be perfectly well behaved when he wants to, too, but who’d want that if ending up in detention gives them another full hour of unashamedly ogling the Greek god that is Derek Hale that gives Stiles endless spank bank material for his Private Stiles Time?
“Don’t you think you have bigger problems to worry about?”
“I notice how you didn’t deny the attraction part,” Stiles points out, smug.
“If you think I’d ever get involved with a minor, who is on top of that a student of mine, you’re delusional,” Derek snaps.
“Still hearing no denial,” Stiles says, grinning, and slowly makes his way up to the front. “I hear you deflecting a lot, but I never once heard you say you don’t want this.”
Derek backs away a little as Stiles comes towards him until he hits the desk and his escape way is cut off by the wood digging into his ass. His eyes are always on Stiles, flicking from his eyes down to his mouth, down the pale stretch of his neck, follow the muscles of his arms and roam over his torso before snapping back up to his face. He doesn’t push Stiles away when he steps into his personal space, although he could do it, easily: he has at least 50 pounds of only muscle on Stiles, which is all kinds of hot.
“I don’t want this,” he says, but his voice is hoarse and his pupils blown wide and he doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t try to get away from Stiles anymore and Stiles thinks jackpot.
“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Stiles sing-songs into his ear as he inches closer, bracing his hands on either side of Derek’s hips, bracketing him. He can feel the heat emanating from under the torturously well-fitted shirt Derek is wearing, swears he can hear the adult’s heartbeat pick up at the proximity, at Stiles’ breath ghosting over his skin.
“That comeback only shows how much of a child you still are,” Derek huffs.
It doesn’t fool Stiles one bit. “Oh yeah?” he asks, grin spreading over his face, and drops to his knees, enjoys the sharp intake of breath above him. “Let me show you how much of a child I am not.”
Summary: Trapped in a thunderstorm with an unknown creature chasing them, Stiles and Derek find they need to trust each other to get through the night.
Well written with a unique plot. You gotta check it out!
I also updated my STEREK FIC RECS MASTERPOST if you want to check that out.
“It takes a few years but eventually they manage to agree on something; Derek Hale is an asshole, and Stiles Stilinski is in love with him.”
Teen Wolf AU: After a dangerous run-in with hunters, Stiles loses his control over Derek’s reckless behavior and inability to confront his own feelings.
“That was stupid,” mutters Stiles. “Rushing in after me like that – you could have gotten yourself killed.”
“You worry too much,” says Derek. “It’s a problem of yours.”
Stiles’ shoulders hurt from being pinned back for so long and there is a low throb in the base of his skull. The skin across his face feels swollen and feverish and Derek makes it all sound so simple and easy even though he had been choking on wolfsbane only thirty minutes ago and suddenly the tension between Stiles’ shoulder blades just snaps.
He turns on Derek, chin jutting forward. “No, you don’t care about dying and that’s the problem!”
Derek’s expression is caught open in surprise and he takes a step back, as if the heat in Stiles’ voice could reach out and break him.
“While you’re off trying to prevent everyone from getting killed without any regard for yourself - you’ve never once stopped to think about how I would feel if something happened to you.”
“You’re being ridiculous, Stiles.” Derek says, feigning for mock nonchalance.
“Am I? Really?” Stiles challenges, his voice rising and he lurches himself into Derek’s space. “Look at my face, Derek! C’mon - do you actually think this was done to hurt me?”
Derek’s expression falters.
“No, it was for you.” Stiles rushes on, “It was because they know that I mean something to you, no matter how many times you try to act like I don’t.”
He exhales, his chest shuddering. The pulse of adrenaline and pent up frustration and anger is beginning to wane from his limbs. He feels sore, muscles bruised and veins too tight and thin beneath his skin.
“I’m important to you,” he says, his voice quieter now. “Just like you are to me.”
how times have changed
It’s been over a month and a half since Derek has seen him, or anyone outside of his own betas and the Alpha Pack. He knew it was inevitable that he was going to have to face seeing Scott again, eventually. When they finally do meet, on the sloping lawn just past the lacrosse field and the path the track team runs each afternoon, the whole pack and plus, Derek is momentarily confused because he can smell Stiles but…and it takes a moment for Derek to actually recognize him.
It’s not even the vastly different changes in his appearance, the way his hair has grown out (and up) looking like he’d spent the better part of the afternoon running his hands through it, soft and a little flyaway. It elongates his face and sharpens his features in a way the buzz cut made him look round, and young, and soft, somehow. He hadn’t really noticed before. He’s taller, too, by at least a couple of inches that shouldn’t matter much but now Derek can see if he stalks a bit closer Stiles’ will be looking down just slightly, to reach his gaze.
He’s wearing just a thin hoodie now too, soft cotton and pale blue instead of the three layers of flannel he used to sport, and it accentuates the outline of his biceps and the broadness of his shoulders. The sleeves are rolled though, halfway up his forearms, and his thumbs are hooked in the pockets of his jeans. He smiles at Derek then, when Derek looks back up and catches his eye. It’s a sad sort of smile, closed mouthed, just the twitch of the corner of his lips but it’s the friendliest thing Derek has seen from any of them in a long while and it pulls at something in him.
It’s not just the appearance that’s different, it’s in the way Stiles holds himself now, the way his limbs seem to have finally come under his control, the way his legs move with a grace that Derek doesn’t recognize or the way his fingers stutter over the pen he’ll play with later when they’re planning.
It’s in the way his room looks now, when Derek climbs in through the window later, everything muted a little, soft blues and grays and the childish impersonal decals gone to be replaced with band posters that Derek sees are there to hide the notes and research he has tacked to the walls.
It’s in the way he gestures with those same careful hands towards the bed and says “sit,” halfway between an offer and a command as he rummages in his desk for a thick heavy bound journal spilling notes across the floor.
“You want anything?” He asks, and he catches Derek’s eye a little expectantly. “Water? Soda? Blood of your enemies?” He laughs, and it’s the hint of the old Stiles there buried beneath this new, older one, that’s seen too much and has come to terms, finally, with letting go of the girl he spent a decade waiting for, and the knowledge that this is bigger than the fantasy films he once loved.
“You have that in your fridge?” Derek asks, watching him. Stiles runs a hand through his hair, tugging a little on the ends as he watches Derek watch him.
“Workin’ on it.” He says it like a promise and lets his hand fall to hang limp at his side.
But most of all, it’s in the way that Stiles gestures toward him later and says with a soft shrug, “So I uh…I missed you.”
And Derek freezes where he has one leg out the window, straddling the sill, and he turns and looks back at where Stiles is hovering, stares up at him, catches his gaze, and Derek listens with an ear tuned toward Stiles’ heart beating in his chest and hears with disbelief the unmistakable sound of sincerity.
Stiles doesn’t know how it happens, or if he’s honest, why at that moment in time Derek decided to kiss him. He’s not going to lie and say that he hasn’t been wanting this for a while, because he definitely has. It’s not a life or death situation, a fight or flight, or even Derek shoving him up against the wall and threatening him. Instead, they are sitting on his couch while his dad grumbles in the kitchen about what to make for dinner. It’s all very domestic and quite frankly, a little weird. But then again, what isn’t weird in his life lately?
Stiles’ brain short circuits for about thirty seconds, eyes widening when Derek just leans forward and kisses him, his lips are soft and Stiles can feel the slight tickle of Derek’s stubble against his chin, Derek’s fingers burning against the back of his neck. It’s only a quick press of lips and Derek is gone. Stiles makes a noise, it’s not needy, it’s not, and makes grabby hands at Derek, clutching at his Henley to try and pull him back in.
“You asshole.” Stiles whispers, because hey, his dad is right in the kitchen and while now that Stiles is almost 18 and him and Derek have been doing this whole ‘we’re sort of dating but we’re horribly awkward it’ thing, his is pretty much okay with it. Once they explained the whole werewolf thing and the whole Derek isn’t actually a bad guy thing. And mostly the ‘we haven’t even kissed yet, but I guess we’re sort of dating’ thing. That had been awkward, really, really awkward.
Derek just smirks a little, his eyes are laughing though. Stiles hauls him back in, pressing his lips against Derek’s and it’s almost sad how tender Derek is being with him. One hand cups Stiles’ face, the other wrapping around one of his wrists. Stiles is in such sensory overload he doesn’t know what to do, but when his brain registers that Derek’s tongue is nudging at his bottom lip, he opens his mouth and tries to keep the moan from making its way out of his throat.
“Don’t think I don’t know what the silence in there indicates.” His dad calls from the kitchen, startling Stiles out of kissing Derek. He rears back with a distressed noise, ears and cheeks burning. Derek takes it in stride though, dropping his head onto Stiles’ shoulder. His shoulders are shaking with silent laughter and Stiles glares towards the kitchen even though he knows his dad can’t see him.
“I hate you both.” Stiles mutters and Derek wheezes out his laughter against Stiles’ neck.
Title: Gravity’s Got Nothing on You
Author: zosofi
Pairing: Sterek
Word Count: 83,980
Summary: Or, the one where the Hale fire never happened, Laura is a nosy sister, Derek is desperate, and Stiles is the only one that can help.
Excerpt: “Three weeks,” Derek says.
“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.
“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…
“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“
“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”
“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.
Sterek AU: Derek doesn’t get Valentine’s Day cause he and Stiles do little things that are accidentally romantic all the time and Isaac hates them for making it all look way too easy.
Based on this wonderful fic. Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!
