Derek was waiting on Stiles when
he got back home. Scott had apparently called the alpha when Stiles showed up
at his house with a busted face. Stiles had been cornered by Gerard and Stiles
doesn’t know how not to mouth off, so he deserved a few of the hits he took.
He’d lied and told his dad that he
had mouthed off to a few kids from the opposing team of the lacrosse game they’d
played that night. He didn’t want his dad mixed up in everything yet.
Stiles walked in to see Derek standing
in his room with his arms crossed, his expression murderous.
“Derek,” Stiles sighed.
Derek’s face instantly softened as
he reached for the human. He cupped Stiles’ jaw, inspecting the large bruise
that sat raw and painful on his cheek.
Stiles felt the pain ease up under
Derek’s touch, “Thanks,” Stiles gave a Derek a small smile.
“He did this to you?” Derek asked
though he already knew.
“I was mouthing off, it probably
wouldn’t have been so bad,” Stiles shrugged.
Derek growled, “He’ll pay for this.”
Stiles waved a dismissive hand, “You
have more pressing matters to deal with.”
“Stiles, I can’t lose you,” Derek’s
tone was harsh like he was angry, but his eyes were scared and worried.
Stiles paused. He and Derek had a
complicated relationship, they had grown closer over the weeks, but it was
still uncertain were exactly they stood. Neither one was brave enough to talk
about it.
“I don’t trust many people, but I
trust you, and I need you,” Derek’s tone was vulnerable now, like he was
worried Stiles would reject the information.
Stiles nodded, “I’ll be more
careful.” Stiles wanted to wrap the alpha in a tight hug, but he knew Derek’s
limitations. Hell, that was why Derek trusted him so much.
Anonymous said:Hey, loves! Could I get some good ol classic sterek in which Stiles gets hurt or almost hurt in a fight and Derek takes care of him/blames himself/realizes his feelings? 😙❤
I thought these were pretty similar. So I’ve combined them for nonny and @iheartfillintheblank – Anastasia
Stiles is a crier. Everyone knew that but no one talked about it. There wasn’t much to talk about, to Stiles’ relief. But there are plenty of reasons for him to cry, all completely logical, he thinks. But the one time he has no idea why he’s crying, (and he probably looks insane doing it) he just wanted to be alone.
Of course that wouldn’t happen.
(Or, Derek finds Stiles crying by his Jeep and takes him home and they make pizza and make out a little.)
Everybody knows that’s a bad idea to get involved with witches. Dead or alive, doesn’t matter. It’s trivial, but Stiles still fucks up just royally (like he has ever done it another way).
The day Derek comes back from his trip with Cora, he comes back alone. Stiles is the first one to see him, mouth hanging open slightly after he opens the front door to his house and sees him standing there awkwardly on his porch. He looks the same; leather jacket, permanent scowl, brooding eyebrows… but then again… he looks very different. His skin isn’t as pale as before, he doesn’t have any dark circles under his eyes, and it looks like he…
“You lost weight.”
It was suppose to come out as a question, he swears.
Derek rolls his eyes and sighs. “Nice to see you too, Stiles.”
“I mean, not that you where fat before, like, at all, but you don’t look as… muscle-y.” Stiles finishes lamely.
54,420 I Teen I Sterek, Scott/Isaac/Allison I Kidnapping)
A new threat comes to Beacon Hills, putting all its supernatural inhabitants in danger. A true alpha and banshee are rare and valuable quarry, but Stiles and Derek are the easiest targets.
There are new hunters in Beacon Hills, big whoop, no big deal, except they have shown an extremely sick interest in Stiles. Derek has assigned the betas to protect him but Stiles is becoming increasingly more interested in Derek coming over instead.
67,901 I Explicit I Sterek, Scira, Jydia I Therapy)
Or otherwise known as “Derek Goes to the Doctor,” wherein Derek gets the therapy he so desperately needs and gets healthy. The clearer his head gets, the more room it seems to have for Stiles.
Forever ago I saw this post and I wanted to write something for it. Then, also forever ago, but a few months later, it was @yodas-yo-yo‘s birthday and I wanted to write something for her, so I started on this. I had kind of a severe writers block back then though (still not fully over it), and no matter what I did I just wasn’t pleased with it, so it ended up just sitting in some shameful corner in my docs. I’ve fiddled with it since then, finished it, changed stuff, and I’m finally okay enough with it to actually post it. So. Uhm. It doesn’t fully follow the prompt post, but I hope you like it anyway. Have a stupid OC, some BAMF magic Stiles, and a poor worried Derek (~3k words, also on ao3). ♥
Kyle figured the human would be easy. Hale always talked about him with fucking hearts in his eyes, telling people how good he was, looking like a love sick teenager, it was disgusting. Not-, Kyle wasn’t a homophobe, jeez, it was just that Hale had that reputation of being this badass and ruthless alpha and he sure looked the part, most of the time at least. Until you saw him look at his human. Seeing him all soft with those eyes so fucking filled with love made it really hard to believe those rumors.
People always said to keep away from the human though, he had heard Hale say it too, hell, the whole pack kept joking about it, that anyone who hurt him would be in deep shit, but Kyle wasn’t worried about him. He’d seen him stumble out of his Jeep so many times, fall on his ass twice because a dog came to say hi (the same dog, the same occasion), coddle that beta’s toddler too many times to even count, jesus. No, Kyle wasn’t worried about the human.
Taking the human would get Hale’s attention though, and Kyle having the human as leverage would force Hale to give him what he wanted no matter how badass he was. He just had to play his cards right and be careful about how he did it.
Stiles, the human’s name was Stiles, what kind of a name-. Nevermind. Stiles, Hale’s precious human, worked at his bookstore in town and Kyle had spent more than a month learning his schedule, his routines. He knew he’d close at 7 pm, then do some cleaning up and counting, or whatever the fuck it was he did, before leaving at 7:30. He’d get to his beat up Jeep that was parked on a rarely trafficked backstreet, then he’d drive alone through the woods the almost half hour to Hale’s house.
Kyle planned it very carefully. He’d make a small hole in one of the Jeep’s tires right before Stiles was to leave the bookstore, that would cause the air to slowly seep out and by the time he was on the country road he’d have a flat tire and be forced to stop. Kyle would follow him, and when he had stopped he’d pull up behind him, offer him assistance, knock him out, tie him up, dump him in the backseat of his own car, and go to his hideout and contact Hale from there.
Stiles sighed, far louder than he would if his faculties were not soaked through with alcohol, and licked his lips.
Derek looked fine. Damn fine.
It was a good thing, Stiles thought, that everyone in the room, even the wolves, were just as sloshed as he was. ‘Cause otherwise they’d be able to smell just how turned on he was by Derek. They also probably wouldn’t all still be naked after their evening run, either, though.
Derek, in Stiles’ completely unbiased opinion, was rocking the whole skin-is-in vibe better than any of them.
It wasn’t wasn’t just because the obvious, either. Oh, Stiles could happily rant and rave — until the moon danced around the earth and back again — about Derek’s perfectly round nipples and the astonishingly exquisite V of his Adonis belt and his superbly furry chest and the impeccable cut of his abs and well, now that Stiles’ had got a look at it for more than a few seconds? Even the man’s cock looked exquisite: long and thick, with a magnificently generous foreskin and heavy, low hanging balls that Stiles just wanted to suck inside his mouth and…
Stiles sat back and hoped no one noticed he was hard, or drooling. Thankfully they were all, apparently, too focused on the fact that Derek had just downed his third wolf’s brew in a row. He was beating the Markowitz pack’s alpha by at least half a glass.
What really turned Stiles on, more even than all of the above, was that Derek was letting himself relax and enjoy and be something akin to what he might have if not for all the shit that Beacon Hills had thrown at him over the years.
He looked happy.
“Hale’s going to beat Dad,” Alexandr, the future Markowitz alpha, moaned as he slid a little closer. He’d been friendly with them all, but a little more so with Stiles. The attention was nice. Even if it could go nowhere because of distance and pack politics and the fact that Stiles was very much head-over-unrequited-heels for his own grumpy alpha. “You’ll help me deal with the shame, won’t you, Stiles?” Stiles could practically hear the guy’s lashes fluttering.
Then he heard a crunch and crash and turned around and Derek’s eyes were rage-red and he was bleeding around the shards of shattered beer glass in his hand. He was making a sound Stiles didn’t think he’d ever heard before — a low, warm rumble that seemed to come from under his lungs rather than in them. His fangs had dropped.
Stiles caught, out of the corner of his eye, the sharp movements as Alexandr bent his neck and then most everyone else followed.
The Markowitz alpha didn’t quite go that far, but the man sounded contrite, even to Stiles’ drunk ears. “Our apologies, Alpha Hale. We didn’t realize Mister Stilinski was spoken for. I’m sure my son meant no offense.”
Stiles blinked and tried not to notice that Derek’s body, all of his body, was at attention, ready to fight: the knot was difficult to miss. He summoned his own voice, hoping that it didn’t waiver. “Derek?”
Derek shifted his gaze from Alexandr to Stiles, his eyes fading back to green. He blinked a few times and seemed to focus his gaze on Stiles and flared his nostrils and.
Stiles could not not notice that Derek’s still-hard cock twitched.
Summary: Derek explained the situation as clearly as he could while leaving out his own relationship with the boys, the alcohol at the party, and the fact they knew Jackson was responsible. Or that any werewolves were
involved. Or that Stiles had turned out to be such a responsive little
perv.
Info: 6k | Teen and Up
Notes: It’s 2 am and I just remembered the scene from this fic and I just had to find it and I remembered how awesome it was, hence the rec. Drunk!Stiles, helping Derek and cool Sheriff. Just read it and smile guys, to sterek! – K.
Sneak Peek:
“Stiles, when I kiss you, it won’t be because I pity you,” Derek said, feeling the last of his resolve crumbling away until Stiles looked
at him with obvious trust. He pushed the teenager away and held him
there. It felt like holding fire in the palm of his hand. “If you
remember one thing from tonight, remember that.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing with my son?”
“Nothing!”
Derek yelped, the word shot out like a kneejerk reaction. Sheriff
Stilinski stood in the doorway, blocking the light from inside. Derek
winced, easing away from Stiles … who promptly toppled over into the
bushes. “Well, shit.”
shealwaysreads 