I totally see where you’re coming from, but I get more of a dating show type vibe – all the alphas vying for a chance with a lovely omega (Derek only agreed to go on the show when he heard that Stiles had signed up and he may have threatened a few people to make sure he would be on the same episode as Stiles… but that’s not important). It looks like they are all trying to get ready for the events – you have Juston rolling up his sleeves to show off his arms, Glen flexing in the back trying to stand out, Wyatt just looks excited, Blake is chill and relaxed, and then you have Hoechlin Derek who looks a little anxious, and is staring off to the side (most likely where Stiles happens to be sitting..). Because the thing is, this sounded like a better idea in his head – he’d make sure to be on with Stiles and would win the heart of the guy hes been pining after for years… But now that hes here, with all these other alphas who probably have so much more they can offer Stiles, who are probably a much better match for such a vibrant, somewhat spastic, full-of-life omega like Stiles.. How can Derek even compete? He could handle the pining (shut up Laura he totally doesn’t mope that much!) but being rejected (on national tv of all places) by the person he loves? Being told hes not good enough by the only person whose opinion really matters? That he can’t handle. So he starts to fidget and look around for any way out of this ridiculous situation hes put himself in but before he can find an exit, he finds whiskey brown eyes that he would know anywhere… And they are staring straight back at him… Stiles offers him a shy smile and a tiny wave of his hand and in that moment, everything within Derek settles, he feels like he is finally in the exact place hes supposed to be. They don’t break eye contact as Stiles walks up to take his seat and no matter what the host tries to do, Stiles attention stays on Derek (who obviously wins by a landslide). As it turns out, Stiles had only agreed to go on the show to try and make himself look desirable to Derek, whose constant glaring made Stiles think he hated him (he was NOT glaring he was just nervous, shut up Stiles). In the end it makes for a pretty boring hour of television, but it does make for a pretty interesting story to tell their kids when they ask how their parents met…
AU:Derek comes back to Beacon Hills to protect Stiles, as an Alpha.
“When I pathetically ran out of excuses as to why I should never come back here, I realized I needed to face reality and admit to myself that this is my home. Nowhere else but here. And I also needed to come back because this is the only place where I’m meant to be the alpha I should’ve always been. And I couldn’t be a better alpha without my anchor. So, I’m back home. I’m back, to you Stiles.”
When Stiles comes it smells like thunder. It feels like lightning in his veins that makes his blood pump faster and thicker under his sweat slick skin. And then the scent turns sweet like taffy being turned over and over in a candy shop.
And yeah, Derek is a little addicted to getting a fix.
Stiles hasn’t seen Derek Hale this close up for over a decade. He looks almost exactly the same, except somehow he seems even bigger and broodier—criminally handsome, with soft-looking dark scruff, heavy brows, light hazel eyes. His gaze zeros in on Stiles almost immediately, and his scowl lightens minutely in what looks like surprise.
Stiles is acutely aware that he has melted butter and cinnamon all over his face, and tries to surreptitiously wipe it with the ends of his sweater-sleeve.
Stiles is stolen away from his home and forced to work for the Hale army. He ends up at a manor where he lives at the edge of the war between the Hales and the Argents. Stiles gets wrapped up in rumors about secret princes, magic and possibly a spy. A handsome alpha who he finds himself hopelessly attracted to is the last thing he wants.
Derek has learned to be a good Alpha in most of the ways that count. The problem is, now that he’s well-adjusted, safe, and happy, it’s time to turn his attention to the one thing he’s always sucked at: finding a nice, sweet Omega mate.
Lucky for him, Erica and Stiles have ideas on how to make that as painless as possible.
In which Derek Hale is a failwolf and somehow, ends up going speed dating.
The magic within him swells as he closes the circle. It’s fed by Derek’s sacrifice, his promise to provide and protect his pack.
Stiles concentrates on the thick web of bond connecting each person to the other and back to Derek. His own threads are bright in his mind, distracting where the thickest leads right back to Derek, to his alpha, to…
When he comes back around, Stiles is standing in front of Derek. The red of Derek’s eyes glow, and his expression is solemn. Stiles can feel the excitement, the hope, radiating from him.
Stiles was young when he found out he could do magic, that he was a witch. But living as an only son left him with too much time on his hands, which is why he decided to use his magic to create something he wasn’t even sure it was possible in the first place. Alone in the woods, the young Stiles lost himself to magic, but someone found him. Someone saved him.
That night in the woods Derek killed his uncle and saved a boy named Stiles. Since then he’s felt a connection to the boy, like they’re meant to be together, like Stiles belongs to him. He’s brave, and smart, and everything a newly made alpha could ever want… And Derek needs to be close to him.
“What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Balto.”
“What’s yours?”
“Stiles.”
Derek raises an eyebrow. That isn’t his real name. There’s no way. But now he thinks about it, he has a vague memory of someone, probably Uncle Peter, telling him that with the fae, names have power. “I’m Miguel,” he says.
“Lie.”
“Are you trying to tell me your real name is Stiles?”
Stiles runs his tongue across his teeth and considers Derek carefully. “Fair enough,” he says, “Miguel it is.”
Grabbing his groceries and pocketing the change, Derek turns to leave; he’s nearly at the door when Stiles calls out, “By the way, Miguel, if you’re interested, it’s two for one on bags of kibble at the pet store down the street.”
Derek doesn’t look back, doesn’t hesitate, just raises a hand and flips him off on the way out.
Stiles knew that his Alpha, his lover, had to do this.
He let himself flop against Derek’s wide chest and relax into the feeling. Derek didn’t stop washing, touching, caressing, and Stiles didn’t stop whispering assurances.
They didn’t touch me, babe.
No one but you.
I’m all in one piece.
Thank you for coming for me.
I’m so fucking glad to be home.
The Otis pack took Stiles to teach the Hale-McCalls a lesson about consorting with the wrong type of beings, about having unnatural urges, and turning away from sinful relationships and bad pack structures.
They’d wanted to try out their own unnatural urges on Stiles though, that was certain.
Stiles wasn’t lying to Derek—none of the other pack had touched him after snatching him off the street—but that was only because for the eight nights he’d been trapped in their basement he’d stayed locked safely within a circle of ash. They were a pack that didn’t brook human members and were in between emissaries. With no one to break the line they’d had no choice but to leave him be.
They weren’t the smartest of cookies, either. They took his phone, but didn’t turn it off. They searched him for weapons, but didn’t take the ash-containing locket from around his throat. They took his backpack, but didn’t think to empty his winter coat pockets of snacks and other goodies.
Their basement was badly insulated and the pipework old, and the drip of water from their heating system tasted nasty, but it stopped Stiles dehydrating.
Not even the dripdripdrip stopped him from hearing what they were planning to do to him once they managed to get through the ash.
He shuddered at the memory and Derek whined and licked over Stiles’ cheek again. The drag of a fang against water-sodden skin was blunt and grounding. Stiles tipped his head to the side a little more and Derek took the invitation, pressing all of his teeth, mouth open wide, against Stiles’ throat and holding.
Stiles sighed, and let himself think a moment or two on the sound-memory of the Otis Alpha’s arms being ripped from his body for daring to touch Derek Hale’s mate…
Then he focused instead on the sound of the water flowing over their bodies, the slip-slick of the soap Derek was rubbing into their skin, the thrumming of Derek’s heart in his chest and the soft but ever present rumbling growl there, too.
The shower was starting to get cold, and soon Stiles would begin to shiver and that would have to end this phase of Derek’s fussing. They’d fed him in the car on the way back from the Otis pack’s property, passed him water and then juice and then bought burgers in drive through and now Stiles just wanted to sleep.
Derek would dress him and feed him a little more first, then the wolves and coyote and banshee and humans would surround them on the floor in the living room and Stiles would let Derek wrap him in arms that carried as much guilt as anger, and as much anger as love, and they’d sleep.
Not technically late! Another for @sterekweek-2018 here. What if Peter had bitten Stiles? Post-season one. ~1100 words. PG(-13).
Day Four: Alternate Canon
~
Stiles doesn’t tell anyone about the Bite.
There’s so much going on that it’s easy enough for him to ignore.
And it heals so fast.
So after Peter is dealt with, Stiles waits because he really wants to pretend the whole thing was just some crazy dream. He can worry about Lydia, and Scott risking hunters, and every other thing that’s been thrown into their lives.
Except– Except the full moon is coming quicker than he realizes and he can’t ignore it anymore because he catches his eyes glowing when he looks in the mirror, dreams about the chase.
Scott is too wrapped up in Allison to notice his best friend going through the same ordeal he’d just experienced, minus the out-of-his-mind murderous alpha.
So Stiles shows up at the burnt-out husk of the Hale house and sucks in a breath. He can hear Derek inside, waiting for him. He wonders if Derek can already tell, but he really has no idea. His new senses are hard to understand sometimes and he knows Derek has been a werewolf his whole life, must be used to it.
Despite Scott’s abhorrence of going to Derek, Stiles has spent a good amount of time with Derek. He doesn’t mind the idea of Derek as an alpha, as his alpha. Their close contact hadn’t been as terrible as he might project and Derek, aside from the threats, had been a fairly respectful, responsive roommate. Had listened to him even when he was fucking around and–
Oh.
A new part of him croons at the thought of Derek wearing his clothes and Stiles tries to shake it away.
He’s pretty sure arousal is something that Derek can sense.
Imagine Stiles slowly losing faith in Scott as his faith and attachment to Derek grows. Scott continues to grow weaker and weaker as Derek gets stronger until one day, Derek’s eyes turn red and Scott’s turn yellow.
Oooh… I am intrigued by the idea of what happens if Stile loses faith in Deaton or Scott then…
Hello, yes, I would like to order this in a full length fic, please!
@thisdiscontentedwinter it’s not a full length fic, but I’ve got this little ficlet for you! Also here on AO3!
It starts innocuously at first. Little things that begin to build a pattern in Stiles’ maze-like mind and niggle at him. Scott always checks on Liam first after a fight, before checking on Alec. He continues to trust his own intuition over Stiles’, ignoring clues that lead to another avoidable mass attack had Scott headed his warnings. He grows angry with Derek for being unavailable at scheduled pack meetings, despite rescheduling them regularly for his own commitments. They’re small things, but they build a pattern, and when Stiles finally acknowledges it, he can’t stop himself from collecting evidence.
He doesn’t share his thoughts with anyone at first, unsure whether he’s imagining things, but then one day they’ve survived another battle and Derek checks on Alec. Stiles sits stock still in the Jeep (with a completely refurbished engine courtesy of Sourwolf), staunching the bleeding gash at his hairline with the sleeve of his flannel and staring as the scene before him unravel. Scott rushes back through the trees after attempting to capture Monroe’s dick of a partner Felix and without a second look around him moves straight to Liam, despite the beta being up and about, albeit a little dazed. Alec, however, is sitting up slowly from his place on the gritty dirt alone and untended. Before Stiles can even call and make certain all his pieces are together, Derek is next to him, touching his wounds with gentle, assessing hands and then carefully helping him to his feet. Their newest beta is healed and returning to the Jeep with Derek before Scott even turns eyes upon him.
A few more weeks pass and Stiles spends it spreading alert runes around town and reinforcing the wards on the pack members’ homes with Derek. While he’s away in Virginia during school semesters, the wards help the pack keep an eye on the town and protect their homes. Even Stiles’ budding and powerful Spark magic isn’t strong enough, however, to sustain them permanently without regular fortification, and so he and Derek spend time during each of Stiles’ vacations reinforcing them. Stiles redraws the sigils and infuses them with his Spark and Derek attempts to locate and activate them. If they’re successful, Derek would both be incapable of avoiding them and they would alert Stiles of his presence. Scott had accompanied him on these projects years ago when Stiles had first learned to do it, but somewhere along the line he’d decided they weren’t useful enough and told Stiles not to bother. Derek had told him he liked feeling watched over and he’d taken over for Scott.
shealwaysreads 