this is wonderful and thank you for this ask– i love love the idea of stiles doing personal ringtones for everyone. BUT WHAT IF STILES DECIDES THIS IS THE RINGTONE BEFORE THEY GET TOGETHER
Queen’s “You’re My Best Friend” continues to blare as Stiles digs underneath the passenger’s seat for his phone. He’s very aware of the undignified position he’s in, but Scott’s calling and Stiles needs to pick up the phone. Now. He squirms, getting the Jeep’s gear to the stomach, and he can’t reach–
“Why don’t you just get out and walk around to the passenger side?” Derek says from behind him.
Stiles can picture it, Derek folding his arms and probably looking unimpressed, and scoffing at Stiles’ ineptitude, probably. Stiles huffs and plants his knees on the driver’s seat, ass wobbling precariously in the air. “Because I’m already here and I know where the phone is.” He does. He touched the metal casing, right before the song stopped playing. Great. Now Scott’s probably leaving a voicemail, which does not bode well since Stiles said he was getting Derek’s info about the troll and now Scott doesn’t know that the thing’s saliva is poisonous and–
“Why don’t you go round that way and help? What are you standing around there for?”
Derek doesn’t say anything, but then Stiles can hear him stepping around the Jeep. Derek helpfully starts reaching underneath the seat, looking for Stiles’ phone and grumbling. “There’s so much junk under here,” he mutters, pulling out a copy of Wuthering Heights that Stiles was supposed to return to Lydia. Three years ago, when he was still in high school.
Derek’s phone is in the stomach of the last troll, so unfortunately their only line of communication with the rest of the pack is to find Stiles’ phone. In the dark.
Fortunately, Lydia starts calling. Stiles can hear a few bars of Beethoven’s 9th before it stops, like she was interrupted while calling.
“We don’t have time for this, we just need to get to them,” Derek mutters.
“Well that would be great, except we don’t know where–”
Derek howls. It resonates through the night, and in the distance there’s a returning howl.
Stiles tries not to tremble. This is no time thinking about how hot that was. Damn crush, he thought he was over this. Wasn’t going to college and dating other people supposed to put and end to this awful pining?
Apparently not.
Tag: getting together
(A belated birthday gift for @paintedrecs, based
on a truly, truly ridiculous conversation. Thanks to @bleep0bleep for the beta read!)Derek slid open Stiles’s window and rolled into the room. He
expected the yelp of surprise that greeted his entrance, but not the yelp of
pain that immediately followed.“Ow! Fuck,
fuck, fuck, ow!”Derek immediately straightened. “Stiles? What happened?
Are you hurt?”Stiles sprang away from his desk, clutching his ass, face
twisted in pain. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m—”“—a terrible liar,” Derek cut in. “Let me see
how bad it is.”“No!” Stiles backed awkwardly away. “No, it’s
fine, I swear, it’s—ouch!”This was ridiculous. Derek crossed the room and grabbed
Stiles’s arm, turning him around perhaps a little more roughly than necessary.A small metal rod was sticking out of his ass.
Derek blinked. “Is that a scalpel?”
“No, it’s a knife! I was cutting some stuff out and you—”
Stiles’s mouth clacked shut.Derek could see where this was going. “You were
startled and stabbed yourself in the ass.”Stiles slapped at him, but Derek easily avoided the hits. “I
wasn’t startled,” Stiles
grumbled. “I was briefly surprised. Briefly surprised long enough to back
into my knife.”Derek rolled his eyes. Only Stiles.
The Pastry Trespasser
SWN Spring Fic Exchange gift for @alocalband
Word count: 5373
Tags:
bakery AU, baker!Stiles, chef!Derek, fluffRating: T (for language)
The last thing Stiles expected when he walked into the back of the café at 5 a.m. was to see someone else already there.
He frowned at the coat already hanging on the rack by the back door and startled at the noise of someone moving around in his pantry. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t his pantry—both Danny and Isaac used it as well—but before 10 a.m., the café was his domain. And Stiles was just a wee bit possessive.
He stomped over to the pantry and opened his mouth to let the trespasser have a piece of his mind, when he caught an actual look at the trespasser and promptly swallowed his tongue.
Standing in the pantry with a yellow notepad in one hand and a pencil in the other was the hottest man Stiles had ever seen in his life. He was roughly Stiles’s height, with dark hair and a beard and black-framed glasses, his maroon sweater stretched over broad shoulders and mouthwatering biceps. And dark jeans covered an ass that should have been illegal, holy shit.
Stiles gaped. He thought he could be forgiven; nobody should be forced to confront such hotness before their first cup of coffee.
Pantry God finally seemed to realize he wasn’t alone, and looked over to Stiles, pale eyes widening behind his glasses. “Can I help you?”
The words jerked Stiles out of his stupor, reminding him that Pantry God was actually Pantry Trespasser. “Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my pantry?”
The guy’s frankly impressive eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Your pantry? Are you the owner of this establishment?”
Stiles narrowed his eyes at the man’s sarcastic tone. Attractive or not, he didn’t need to take this. “No, but I’m the head chef. Well, one of the head chefs. Well, the pastry chef. The point is, I’m responsible for making sure we have all the delicious baked goods and so the pantry is my domain. Ergo, my pantry. What are you doing in it?”
The guy continued to look at Stiles as though he’d lost his mind. Which, unfair, although Stiles was used to it at this point. Scott and Allison gave him that look often.
Pantry Trespasser waved his notepad at the shelves. “So you’re the one responsible for organizing this place?”
“Yeah, and?”
He made a face. “This is a mess! Nothing’s labeled—”
Stiles balked. “Excuse you!”
“—you have your dry goods mixed with your canned goods, lunch items mixed with breakfast items, I have no idea when this produce was purchased—”
“It was just two days ago!” Stiles argued. Probably, anyway. It wasn’t like Danny and Isaac sent him their shopping schedules.
Pantry Trespasser grabbed a potato out of a tub under the shelves and held it out. “Look at this. It’s going soft. How long has it been here?”
That potato was looking pretty gnarly, and he was infuriated that Pantry Trespasser had a point. Stiles stammered. “I don’t…I’m the baker. I buy the flour, not the fucking potatoes!”
“I thought this was your pantry,” Pantry Trespasser said mockingly.
“That I share with two other people,” Stiles reminded him. “And you still haven’t answered my question. Who the hell are you?”
Pantry Trespasser dug a business card out of his pocket and handed it over. “Derek Hale. Peter’s my uncle.”
Tore a Line in the Sun – stilinski – Teen Wolf (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
Words: 44,929. Complete.
"If you’re watching this, you’re probably some kind of sentient life form responding to my distress call – well, it’s not really anofficial distress call because, well, the hardware for that is kind of crushed, but I’m definitely in distress, so that should probably count for something.“
The young man on the screen sighs and rubs his face, jerking his hand away with a hiss. He’s bleeding, Derek realises: there’s a gash across his brow and the knuckles of both hands are bruised and bloody, and that’s only what he can make out between the cracks in the glass and the frame of the camera.
#JAY#GUYS IT’S FINALLY HERE#THE ONLY STEREK SPACE AU YOU’LL EVER NEED#AND I JUST SPENT ALL AFTERNOON READING THIS#AND IT WAS THE BEST AO3 NOTIFICATION TO WAKE UP TO EVER IN A MILLION YEARS#AND I’M EMOTIONAL ABOUT ALL OF THIS#FIC FUCKING RECCED MAN#CONSIDER THIS THE BIGGEST OF FIC RECS (- @andavs)
i’m just. you guys. you guys.
#i can’t believe jay invented sterek and sci-fi romance all in one go #sis #you did that #this fic truly revived me #i feel like i can stan again (on weekends) #this was such an adventure and i want to read it for the first time again #esp the Sleep Scene #that was so pure!!!!! #fuck you and your great plot #and awesome characterization #and fun space planets #(but not really) #fic rec#sterek for ts (- @punksteves)
#GUYS#i just finished this and let me tell you it is LOVELY#sterek plus space plus adventures plus AWKWARD AND ADORABLE FLIRTING#it has it all!#sterek#teen wolf#fic rec (- @petals42)
#IT IS TRUE#SO GOOD#ugghhh#perfection#sterek#my heart#my jam#how many tags does it take to get you to#do the thing#read the thing#fic rec#god just read it (- @troubleiwant)
Oh man oh man I can attest to every single tag and comment about me. DO YOURSELF A FAVOUR AND READ IT. WEREWOLVES IN SPACE.
I REPEAT. WEREWOLVES IN SPACE.
Also, beautifully written sterek with a perfectly paced slow build relationship, a fantastic supporting cast and exciting plot and gorgeous world building like whah.
Tore a Line in the Sun – stilinski – Teen Wolf (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
So I saw this gif of dylan o’brien and after I crawled my way out of the pit of despair I couldn’t not think about Demisexual Derek who starts to have feelings for Stiles and suddenly Stiles is infuriatingly arousing at almost all times.
Mostly because Stiles also has a penchant for absently touching himself all the goddamn time. Especially his face, and Derek thinks it is the best face out of all of the faces.
So, it’s a problem.
And the worse it gets the grumpier Derek is about it. So obviously he snaps at some point. Poor Stiles, who is doing nothing but stroking the back of his hair, except he keeps brushing against his ear and we all know Derek and ears amirite
And he’s doing the concentratey thing where his mouth is parted just slightly and he keeps emoting with his stupid perfect eyebrows. It’s disgusting.
When Stiles’ thumb starts stroking his earlobe Derek just reaches across the table and just slaps his arm away from touching himself, while shouting, ‘oh my god, just stop it.’
And Stiles of course is like “what the fuck dude!”
There are too many people around so Derek just flees, pretty much. Stiles is vexed is what he is, though, so he follows Derek. Asks him what his problem is.
Derek is all, “you Stiles, are the problem. You and your touching yourself all the time!”
And Stiles starts blushing and scoffing indignantly.
“your face, Stiles.”
“Your face, Derek!”
“No, Stiles. You touch your face, your lips, your neck, your hair–”
“Okay? Well excuse me for touching my own body. I’ll touch whatever I want, Derek. I touched myself before I came here!” Stiles is all defiant and sexy.
“Stop talking,” Derek would beg.
“I think you have some serious underlying issues to work through, my friend,” Stiles would tell him, patting Derek on the chest.
“My issue is that I’d rather be…” Derek would sigh in defeat, because it’s there, just right there, “lying under you.”
“You did not!” Stiles would say. “Wait, what?”
“You’re killing me, Stiles,” Derek would tell him, dramatically. Stiles tries calling bullshit but then Derek is sort of there, touching Stiles’ face himself, softly, all delicate. It’s different, and Stiles is staring at Derek’s lips.
“You sure you don’t need to throw me against a door first?” Stiles asks.
“If that’s what you’re into,” Derek tells him.
“Oh, um, only if that’s what you’re into, otherwise no, ha, noway,” Stiles waves a hand. Derek takes it, backs Stiles into the nearest wall, pushes him the last few inches and Stiles lets out a breathy giggle before Derek kisses him.
Wishful Thinking (Stiles/Derek)
@allirica said:Stiles/Derek + “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Aisleah! I wrote this as an early birthday gift because classes start for me next week & I don’t know how busy I’ll be. I hope you enjoy it!!!
Wishful Thinking. Stiles/Derek. Teen. AO3 Link.
Stiles needs to learn how to think before he speaks so he doesn’t risk ruining a wonderful friendship with Derek due to his stupid feelings.
“I’m sorry.” Stiles rakes his fingers through his hair, focusing his attention on the wall because he’s too scared to look at Derek’s face right now. He has no idea what he’d see there, and he’s too cowardly to take the risk. “I didn’t mean to. It just happened.”
sterek >> medieval au
–
Stiles waits for darkness to cover the castle grounds. The moon is a thin curve in the sky, dull behind the night’s clouds. He steps through the stone corridors, the walls lit by torches, Scott close behind him.
His skin prickles when they slip past the guards, his breath caught in his chest. The knights should have been back the day before last, yet the king – Stiles’ father – told him that they should wait for the day to break before making any decisions.
“We can still turn back,” Scott says, once they make it to the trees.
Stiles grits his teeth together and stares ahead at the path. The shadows make it look different, unfamiliar, but Stiles continues, one foot in front of the other.
He hears Scott sigh, stumbling behind him. “I’m sure they’re fine.”
“What if they’re not?” Stiles snaps.
“The knights can take care of themselves.” Scott pauses. “Especially Derek.”
Stiles feels his face go red and the silence in the air is far too telling. Scott chuckles behind him and Stiles wishes his feelings weren’t so transparent.
They walk on for what seems like hours, taking the route the knights had planned. Stiles tries to keep his mind clear of dark thoughts, of things going wrong and blood pouring from the wrong body.
Stiles trips up on a root and Scott has to catch him.
“Hey,” he croaks, eyes tired. “Why don’t we head back?”
Stiles shakes his head.
“He’s fine.”
“Probably,” Stiles sighs. He kicks a loose rock on the ground. “Do you think he’d come after me if I went missing?”
Scott nods, face looking stern. “Of course, Stiles.”
“No,” Stiles sighs, rubbing his face. “If I wasn’t the prince and heir, do you think he would come after me?”
Scott blinks. “Yes,” he says, a beat too late.
His heart drops and Stiles suddenly feels tired. He shakes his head and he gives his friend a weak smile.
“Let’s go home,” he says.
Scott nods, looking pleased, and they barely make it two steps before they catch the sound of whistling. They both still and the sounds get closer, laughter and footsteps heard through the darkness. Stiles grabs Scott’s arm and pulls him behind a large tree, hoping to hell that they haven’t been seen.
A man takes a leak over the fallen leaves before he turns around.
“We’re following them,” Stiles orders, and Scott sighs.
His heart is in a nervous thrum as they follow the path of the man, hiding in the shadows and making sure they make no noise. Stiles sees the horses first. They carry the Stilinski crest and he doesn’t have to look far before he finds two of their knights, their hands bound together.
Scott grabs his arm and his brown eyes find Stiles’.
“They’re fine,” he whispers again.
“Do you have a weapon?”
Scott pulls back his coat and reveals a silver dagger attached to his belt. Stiles nods, relieved, and they both make their way around the perimeter of the camp. Stiles tries to count how many men there are, but it’s difficult in the dark. He doesn’t recognize the crest they bear.
The knights’ weapons are at the far end of the camp and Scott goes over to them. Stiles makes his way to the knights, and as soon as he spots Derek’s gruff face he feels relieved. He’s watching the guards in their ratty clothes, his expression one of disgust.
Stiles smiles widely.
He creeps behind them and puts a hand over Derek’s mouth. He jumps, Stiles tries not to snort, and Isaac seems to wake as Stiles pulls his hand away from the scrape of Derek’s beard.
Stiles bring his lips far too close to Derek’s ear.
“It’s me,” he breathes, reaching for the dagger in his boot.
So this is a ficlet in which Stiles wears a dress. Before you start reading I just wanted to say a quick lil thing:
In this fic, Stiles is a cis male who wears dresses. He is not trans or non-binary, this is a fic about gender roles. Everyone who thinks that male-identifying people cannot wear dresses is welcome to fuck off.
That being said, I don’t have anything against trans or non-binary people, considering that’d be self-hate.
TW: Mild homophobia
The material is wispy between his fingers, and he rubs
against it to stave off the nervousness. He’s holding his favorite dress – a
red one, the first one he’d ever bought – and contemplating something he never
thought he would.He vividly remembers the first time he’d worn a dress, back
when he’d just turned thirteen and just thought fuck it and he’d
borrowed one of Melissa’s and it felt so right that he had to resist the urge
to cry.
Catch Me (Stiles/Derek)
@ladydrace said:Oh oh oh! For the “I love you” prompts! 77: “Call me if you need anything.” Sterek Please. ❤ I hope you enjoy this!
Catch Me. Stiles/Derek. Teen. [AO3 Link]
Derek trusts Stiles to catch him.
The tarp
is tucked tightly around the pile of stuff in the back of the Jeep. Derek
checks the ropes again, making sure the knots are snug and that there isn’t a
chance that all of Stiles’ stuff will get soaked if he runs into rain anywhere.
The sound of the front door swinging open makes him tighten his grip on the
rope because it means Stiles is ready to leave. There was an emotional goodbye
with the sheriff several hours ago with a lot of tears and several tight hugs
that made Derek’s chest hurt, just a little. Scott left on Monday and Lydia’s
been gone most of the summer, so there isn’t really anyone else left to see
Stiles off on his college adventure.
The One with the Grocery List
“Scott. Scott!
SCOTT!” Stiles was knocking on his best friend’s door frantically, voice
getting louder and more agitated as the seconds ran by until a very confused
and sleepy looking Scott finally opened.“Stiles, what’s
going on? Are you okay?” Any other day Stiles might have appreciated the
concern in Scott’s voice but today was different.“Am I okay?
Nope, so far from okay actually it’s not even funny.” Stiles was pacing around
the kitchen island, pulling his hair and scrunching the offending piece of
paper between his fingers before Scott eventually managed to grab his arm and
stop him to explain.“What
happened?”“This
happened,” Stiles answered disapprovingly as he pressed the piece of paper to
Scott’s chest. “Read it.”When he glanced
down, a fresh flicker of confusion crossed Scott’s features again. “It’s… a
grocery list?”“Was that a
question? Yes, it’s a grocery list.” When this didn’t seem to tell Scott
anything, Stiles rolled his eyes. “What does it say?”“Uhm, Mountain
Dew, Reese’s, Ramen, Marshmallows, Graham Crackers, beer and – a bunch of other
stuff. Stiles, despite the fact that I just woke up after a night shift at
Deaton’s, I have no idea where you’re going with this.““So this list
doesn’t strike you as a little weird?”“No, it’s your
typical pre-weekend grocery list, what should be weird about it?”“HA,” Stiles
shouted. “There you have it. Not mine! The weird thing, Scottie boy, is that this
isn’t my grocery list. It’s Derek’s.”
shealwaysreads 