In a world in which the Hales are alive and healthy, Derek grew up to be a very self-confident kind of cocky college student who enjoys living life to the fullest and not denying himself simple pleasures; like drinking with his fratboy buddies, playing sports, or, you know, gangly, awkward, sarcastic and nerd-tastic teenagers who catch his eye.
Stiles is just here to study, thank you very much. He’s not going to be distracted by unfairly good-looking, charming and kind of arrogant fellow students who think the world revolves around them. He’s not.
Obviously, he doesn’t believe Derek when he approaches him about joining the frat because…hello?! Have you looked at Stiles? He isn’t fratboy material. Like, at all. He’s not interested in associating with fratboys at all, ever…right?
In a world in which the Hales are alive and healthy, Derek grew up to be a very self-confident kind of cocky college student who enjoys living life to the fullest and not denying himself simple pleasures; like drinking with his fratboy buddies, playing sports, or, you know, gangly, awkward, sarcastic and nerd-tastic teenagers who catch his eye. Stiles is just here to study, thank you very much. He’s not going to be distracted by unfairly good-looking, charming and kind of arrogant fellow students who think the world revolves around them. He’s not. Even when he discovers Derek isn’t half as dumb and a billion times nicer than he originally thought.
Summary: People talk about the alpha instinct, an alpha’s head being swayed by a nice-smelling omega, or the desire to drop everything and show off. Derek’s never felt any of that. He’s just not that kind of alpha.
Summary: Stiles likes being Cora’s roommate, but he’s pretty
sure her brother is hitting on him.
Notes: Inspired by this post. I’m not really into the sugar
daddy thing, so I went a different direction with this. (On AO3)
Stiles is sitting at a picnic table in the shade, trying to
get some studying done, when he hears someone calling his name. He looks up
just in time to see Scott grin and say, “Hey, man!” as he sits down across from
him.
Stiles smiles and shuts his book, eager for the chance to
take a break.
“So, how’s it going?” Scott asks, leaning his arms on the
table like he’s ready to settle in. “I know you were sad about having to move
in with someone new, after I started living with Allison. So what’s it like,
being roommates with Cora?”
Kids I finally did it. I finally wrote something so upsetting that I needed to write a fluffy pallet cleanser afterwards. The inciting story will be coming to an AO3 near you some later date, but in the meantime have this adorable outsider-POV mistaken identity shenanigans inspired by a cute Adam x Ronan idea floating around a while ago that fits Sterek just as well 🙂
Amanda takes a shine to Stiles instantly. He’s gregarious and funny during their dorm floor introductions, but a little twitchy-anxious and just weird enough to dodge smarmy bro-ness. Stiles takes a shine to her too, maybe on account of her Dr. Who t-shirt or her self identification as a Slytherin. All in all, a promising start.
She takes the initiative to seek him out and say ‘hi’ at dinner that night, and while he seems happy to have someone to sit with, he also makes it about two sentences before dropping a quick, faux-casual comment that while he’s a Slytherin himself, Derek-my-boyfriend is a Hufflepuff through and through.
Amanda just laughs. “I’m not coming on to you,” she explains. “I’m super gay. A little femme about it, is all.”
Stiles gives a sheepish laugh, and the rest of dinner goes much better with romance safely off the table. For the rest of freshman orientation week they stick together and talk shit about trustafarians between exchanging theories about Star Wars family trees. Their friendship keeps going from there, strengthened by a shared Bio class and their eating most dinners at the cafeteria together with some other friends from their hall.
Amanda quickly learns that while she’s happy enough to see her few high-school school besties when she visits home and not much in between, Stiles is really involved with his old crew – the pack, he calls them – and even more codependent with his adorkable boyfriend, Derek.
The lovebirds are always texting back and forth, even in class, or setting up Skype dates, or sending and receiving cute care packages. Stiles pretty much can’t shut up about how geeky Derek is, either.
Without ever having to meet the guy, Amanda already knows that he loves history, classic novels in the original Spanish or French, that he cooks often if not particularly well, is friends with the pack and nobody else, wears knitwear whenever he can get away with it, that he’s most comfortable hanging out with pets at house parties, and that he adores Stiles. Not that Stiles says that last bit in as many words, but anyone would get the idea quick enough the way he describes their relationship. It makes sense; Stiles is a catch, and his bookish nerd boyfriend must be perfectly aware of how lucky he is to be holding someone this hot down.
She feels a little bad about it, honestly. Stiles seems head over heels, but she knows the score. Highschool relationships end halfway through Freshman year, right around Spring break. Always.
Only Spring break comes and goes, and Stiles-and-Derek don’t end. The two of them seem, in fact, to be going stronger than ever. Maybe it’s because Beacon Hills isn’t so far from campus, or maybe it’s more than that. Stiles is still grossly schmoopy about Derek when he and Amanda study together and swap date stories, and his face lights up like a Christmas tree whenever Derek texts or calls. Amanda herself has sworn off of monogamous relationships and is loving the smorgasbord of one night stands she can choose between in the big city, but she actually finds herself rooting for these crazy highschool sweethearts to make it work. They’re so happy together, and isn’t that what matters in the end?
It’s this uncharacteristic lapse into romanticizing that explains why she takes it so hard when Stiles starts cheating on Derek.
Derek hurries over to his usual table at the far end of the library. It’s away from the entrance, with its steady hum of students asking questions and the beeps of the self checkout machines. It’s insulated by the stacks, far enough into the world history section that it’s hidden from view until you get to the Eastern European countries. He loves it. It’s the only way he can get any work done on his thesis, far enough out of sight that he doesn’t need discipline to stop staring at the cute new undergrad who somehow snagged a late evening shift at the general library on the east side of campus.
Cute Undergrad, who is constantly in motion, twirling a pencil through long fingers, biting his lip as he stares at something on the circulation desk, gesturing madly while he talks to students throughout the checkout process. Cute Undergrad, who finally has a name. ‘Styles,’ apparently, no last name yet, but how many people could have that name and attend the university? Not many, Derek guesses. He opens his laptop and navigates to the student directory.
Your search “Styles” returned 0 results.
Well, shit. He slumps in his seat.
It’s obviously a nickname. Who even calls their kid Styles? It’s a nickname, probably a joke about all the plaid the guy wears or something. Derek contemplates trying Google, but he already knows what he’ll find. He’ll get “styles,” not Styles.
“It’s with an I, not a y, dude,” a voice provides helpfully. Derek jumps. He turns slowly, and yep, that’s Cute Undergrad, leaning on a book cart and waving those long, fascinating fingers at him. “But I’m not listed under that name. Hi.”
Derek doesn’t say anything, isn’t sure what he could say. He just got caught creeping on another student, and an undergrad at that, he is so getting expelled from the university. He’ll have to go live as a hermit somewhere. He could do that. Maybe he’d finally finish this chapter.
Cute Undergrad – Stiles – must take his mortification differently, though, because the smile slips from his face and he drops his hand in a jerky motion. Sorry,“ he says. “I’ll just, um, shelving, you know,” he adds, waving a hand in the air as if gesturing to the entire goddamn library. He looks nervous and that somehow puts Derek at ease.
He smiles. “Hi.”
Stiles stares, utterly still for a moment, before nodding furiously. “Hi.” He blushes. “Again.”
Chuckling, Derek stands and turns to face him fully. Maybe he won’t have to become a hermit after all.
A Sterek ficlet inspired by all those accounts like “Humans of New York” and “Dogs of Instagram.” Also partially by this pic of Tyler Hoechlin. ~2k words, rated T.
There are a lot of reasons Stiles is pretty sure Erica is his platonic soulmate. Her brilliant innuendos. Her epic dance moves. Her stubborn refusal to back down from things that scare her. The fact that her comic book collection is even bigger than Stiles’. And, of course, her @gorgeousbeards_of_bhu instagram account.
Beacon Hills University has about two thousand students, making it just big enough that Stiles doesn’t know everyone, or even know of everyone. It’s also, for some reason, the kind of school that attracts a lot of hipster and mountain man types, maybe because it’s California. That makes it a rich hunting ground for Erica and her camera. She manages to post a new “gorgeous beard” every other day or so.
They’re always fun pictures with a little snippet of an interview quoted underneath, and it’s weirdly addictive to scroll through it in the mornings while Stiles is waiting in line for coffee. By this point, after almost a whole semester of following her account, Stiles has seen guys with banjos and beards down to their knees, guys with flowers woven into their beards, guys with Tarzan-esque flowing locks, even some nonbinary bearded people. Then, of course, there are the many hipsters and guys in plaid shirts who look more like lumberjacks than college students.
Stiles asks Erica one time if she’ll feature him on her instagram if he grows a beard. That’s how he finds out she has standards.
“I remember your facial hair from senior year of high school, and no I will not,” she says, shuddering. “Take it from me, you look much better as a boy band twink than a sketchy long-haul trucker.”
She’s a true friend.
*
Then there’s the day she posts a picture of The Guy. His face is spattered with what looks suspiciously like blood, and there are a bunch of jagged rips in his shirt, like he got into a fight with something with claws.
Even like that, he’s still one of the hottest people Stiles has ever seen. He’s staring challengingly into the camera with gorgeous green-grey eyes and glorious eyebrows of sarcasm. His facial hair looks like it’s been groomed by the gods. His arm muscles have Stiles thinking about all the creative and athletic sex they could probably have without this guy even breaking a sweat.
The caption reads, “I swear I didn’t just come from murdering someone. I was a werewolf in my friend Kira’s horror photo shoot.”
Stiles spits out his coffee, shocked into laughter, and that’s it. He’s intrigued. More than intrigued. Infatuated. Obsessed enough to comb through the entire Gorgeous Beards of BHU archives to see if there are any more pictures of this guy. Sometimes Erica will interview the same person twice if it’s been a while.
Summary: Stiles is freezing and miserable in his dorm, so he
decides to knock on his hot neighbor Derek’s door for help.
Notes: I just wanted to write some bedsharing fic! (On AO3)
Stiles loves Cintron hall. It’s the oldest dorm on campus, made
of sturdy, weather-worn brown brick. It’s known as the “boring” dorm, because
it’s filled mainly with the nerdy and socially awkward (and the science majors,
who are often both).
There are never any loud parties or fights at Cintron, but
sometimes on the weekends, people hang out in the lobby and watch movies or the
latest episode of Doctor Who.
shealwaysreads 