It’s just past five in the morning and Stiles is barely awake, wearing only sleep pants that hang low below his pregnant belly, and he can’t get the damned brand new jar of decaf coffee open. But he has a neighbor, and he’s too tired to think that waking someone else up at this hour might not be the best (or politest) of ideas.
Derek swallows, watching Stiles mull over the paperwork. “Are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely,” Stiles says, licking his lips. He signs with a flourish and pushes the contract back at Derek.
Derek knows every word of the contract by heart, but his heart stutters anyways when a sentence jumps out at him. The client acknowledges that any bond created during the heat session is temporary.
It isn’t fair that Stiles needs to work Christmas, when his dad is on the other side of the country. Or that his really hot, next door neighbour is around for the holidays as well. Or that there’s a power outage that makes things even worse. Or better.
Derek had started reading the column by accident. Really, reading strangers’ questions about knotting and heat had never really appealed to him. However, at that point in time, he was a little desperate.
And he was right: most of the questions submitted by anonymous readers didn’t appeal to him. The answers, though, did.
(Or: In which Stiles writes an advice column about knotting and Derek is smitten. Also they’re neighbors.)
Stiles and Derek have been close friends since the Hale siblings moved in next door after their parents’ death. But Derek’s in the popular group, he’s a star baseball player, and he dates popular Pep Squad captain Jennifer Blake. Stiles doesn’t have any of that, just his skateboard and a hopeless crush on Derek (oh yeah, and his Vote Lydia Martin Prom Queen button). As prom and the baseball state championship grow closer, Stiles and Derek start rekindling their friendship.
Derek is a sleepwalker who keeps wandering into his downstairs neighbour’s bedroom.
Stiles is pretty sure the hot guy from the park is going to kill him in his sleep. He knows he shouldn’t have been so obvious about objectifying the guy’s really fine ass.
Too bad it turns out Derek is easier to get along with when he’s sleeping.
“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.
Stiles has mixed feelings about his new apartment building. On the one hand, his flatmate’s gone MIA, the amount of junk mail he gets is ridiculous, and his neighbours are maybe-possibly-probably killers.
But on the other hand, there’s Miguel—perfect, beautiful Miguel.
Stiles’ favourite porn star, Derek Hale, moves into his apartment block and there are inappropriate facial jokes, broken bones, and a staggering amount of threats in a tiny elevator.
“Can I buy you breakfast?” Derek blurted, then cringed. Where exactly had that come from? He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d asked somebody out. Not that he was asking Stiles out. Just for breakfast. And – he was pathetic.
Stiles blinked, honey-whiskey-golden eyes huge in the dim light. “What?”
“I woke up you up at two in the morning,” Derek said, more slowly. “I – you know, food?”
“Oh.” Stiles shook his head. “I have to get up at five and I stayed up stupid late as it is. I’m gonna be a mess tomorrow already and–”
“Nobody gives a fuck, Romeo,” somebody shouted from outside and Stiles jerked so hard he cracked his head on Derek’s windowsill.
Or: The one where Stiles is a cop and Derek doesn’t sleep.
The boys watch as Stiles drops his half eaten donut on the ground, flails for a second before glancing all around as if checking to make sure no one’s watching – and then scoops the glazed treat right back up and takes another bite, albeit with a guilty expression on his face.
In which Stiles Stilinski has a little too much to drink, and steals a baby goat.
THIS IS POSSIBLY THE BEST THING TO HAVE EVER HAPPENED ON A THURSDAY. Lissa wrote me a story! About a baby goat! It’s the cutest, most fantastic story about a baby goat ever to be written.
This fic desperately needs to be read by everybody right now immediately
Okay, so he’s woken up in Derek’s bed: not confusing. They’d had sex: again, not confusing. Derek still being there: not that confusing, it is his apartment. Derek holding Stiles tight like he’s something precious: CONFUSING.
It’s not like he expected to be kicked out at first light, but this is – they hadn’t even talked about what they were to each other before this. Stiles doesn’t need a definition, not really; his life is a stitched together tapestry of things that never quite make sense, but he feels like he and Derek need something to help them along. That maybe he and Derek both deserve more than guesswork.
Derek’s not even awake yet, his arms wrapped around Stiles so tightly that Stiles is kind of amazed he can breathe. There’s a tickle at the back of Stiles’ neck where Derek’s breath hits his skin, and Stiles can feel the rise and fall of Derek’s chest as he breathes steadily. It’s comforting in ways Stiles didn’t know it could be.
“Beacon Hills Crisis Center. This is Stiles. How can I help you?”
No one answered; a shuddering breath skittered across the line.
“Hello?” Stiles frowned, mashing the volume button with his thumb. It was already maxed out. “Hello?”
He definitely heard breathing that time, a sharp, sudden inhale. Whoever it was still wasn’t saying anything and Stiles ground annoyance between his teeth.
“Look, if this is Mr. Stankowski, you are still not permitted within two hundred yard of a school for good reason. I’m not explaining that again because, seriously, I’m right in your preference range and it freaks me out.”
A beat passed, then another. “This was such a bad idea.”
Stiles jolted upright, knocking his knee into the desk and hissing at the pain now radiating in his kneecap. That voice – gruff, masculine, nearly a growl – was sure as shit not the neighborhood pedophile.
THIS IS IT. THIS IS WHAT I LIVE AND BREATHE FOR. DEREK HALE GETTING NICE THINGS, YES PLEASE
Like okay, everyone else is off at college in other parts of the country, right, and Stiles is well into his police training when he gets a text from Derek, something like “hey, I’m coming back to Beacon Hills. Wanna meet up?” and maybe Stiles jumps a little and does a happy dance, but that’s for him and the people around him to know and no one else.
Derek comes back to Beacon Hills and they catch up over coffee, and Derek goes on and on about all the things he’s done, all the things he’s seen, all the places he’s been, and Stiles is making heart eyes the whole time, because who knew Derek Hale would talk this much to him and look this happy?
They start off as friends because this is some slow building stuff right here, except the more Stiles hangs out with Derek, the more those feelings come back to him and shit, he really does love Derek. He was pretty sure those feelings were gone but nope, there they are. Right back and making everything difficult and weird because all he wants to do is make out with the guy who once threatened to rip his throat out with his teeth, and all he wants to do is give Derek nice things and make him stay this happy.
So a lot of time passes, idk maybe a few months, and Derek comes by the academy to take Stiles for lunch pretty much every day and sometimes the Sheriff joins them (and maybe teases Stiles a little after because “so you and Derek, huh?” and Stiles just splutters and “we’re not dating, dad!” “not yet”) and they’re friends and it’s nice.
But then Derek doesn’t pick Stiles up for lunch one day. Stiles texts him but gets no response and he starts to get seriously worried, because what if bad shit has come back to Beacon Hills and took Derek away from him again?
His heart in his throat and panicked thoughts running through his head, Stiles speeds to Derek’s place (because he kept the loft, just in case) and he finds Derek curled up in bed, maybe with wet cheeks and maybe with an empty look on his face.
Now, Stiles isn’t an idiot. He knows that Derek hasn’t had it easy, still has it hard, and he knows that Derek is a broken man despite the adventures that made him better, as Derek himself claimed. So Stiles toes out of his shoes and lays down behind Derek, wrapping himself around him and there’s spooning. And somewhere along Stiles’ third ramble, Derek rolls around and buries his face in Stiles’ chest and maybe cries a little, and Stiles just combs his fingers through his hair, holds him close, and continues talking but letting Derek cry as much as he wants.
After that, they’re closer than ever. There’s a lot more touching and Derek stands a little closer to Stiles now, always touching him, and Stiles half suspects Derek is scenting him, maybe Derek isn’t aware of it himself, but Stiles feels like that’s what’s going on.
And idk maybe after a while, Stiles is hanging out at Derek’s loft and then Stiles kisses him, but Derek pulls away quickly and there’s some yelling while they fight because they’re both stubborn and scared of their feelings, alright. Derek (loudly) admits that he’s afraid Stiles won’t stay, that he’ll leave. And Stiles grabs Derek’s face, looks him in the eyes, and tells him that he’s not going anywhere. And if he is going anywhere, he’ll bring Derek with him. Because “you told me to not let you go, remember? Well, I’m never letting you go, Derek. I need you.”
And then there’s a lot of kissing and some butt stuff, and Stiles rimming and fucking Derek tenderly and whispering sweet things in his ear, because Derek Hale deserves nice things and that is just step one of many.
Stiles keeps his promise to stay by Derek’s side, and Derek has never felt more loved than whenever he’s with Stiles.
AND DEREK HALE IS FINALLY HAPPY LIKE HE DESERVES TO BE, ALL THANKS TO STILES STILINSKI AND THE LOVE HE OFFERS HIS SOUR WOLF
What’s this? Two rec lists in two days? I’ve seen a couple of these floating around and I wanted to contribute/challenge myself to go through some of my bookmarks and find some really good fics that have less than 2,000 kudos. I know most people usually do under 1,000 but there were some really good ones that had less than 2,000 and even that number to me seemed like a travesty. The ones that I’ve rec’d before (either in one of my favorites or as a themed rec list) will have ** next to them. The others will be ones that I haven’t gotten around to rec’ing yet. I have many more that fit this criteria but I decided to cap this one at 40 fics. Stay tuned for another!
When Stiles’ great Uncle Ben passes away, he inherits a cabin and 100
acres of land. What he didn’t expect to get out of the deal was a
mysterious wolf with five little cubs roaming around his property. He
has a feeling they are definitely more than they seem to be.
High school senior Derek Hale only has one goal for the rest of
his time left at BHHS: avoid Stiles Stilinski. He’s wreaked enough
havoc as it is, having spent all summer breaking Derek’s heart.
Everything would be better for both of them if they just never saw each
other again.
-0-
Derek doesn’t plan on ever getting mixed up
with Scott McCall and his little gang of idiot friends. In fact, if he
knew to avoid it, he would, but he guesses he just isn’t smart enough.
Unfortunate, considering the consequences.
Derek has no idea why, but Stiles has this really horrible, absolutely unconscious habit of fondling himself. All the time. In public, in private, it doesn’t matter.
Really,
this is probably at least partially Derek’s fault. Because he didn’t
somehow stop Stiles’ behavior back when he’d had the chance, and the kid
apparently never learned not to touch himself in public. So now he’s
doing it enough that random people are taking videos of him fondling his
junk in his university classes. Oh god.
“I said,” the girl drawls, setting her elbow down in a saucer
of ketchup and grimacing. “That this whole soulmate thing is fucking
stupid. You’re supposed to find someone based off of the music they’re
listening to? How would you even know what was really stuck in your head
and what was in theirs? It’s complete shit.”
Derek, who
has had everything from Dancing Queen to the Barney theme song stuck in
his head all night, winces, and says abruptly, “I think my soulmate is
in middle school.”
Stiles likes the anonymity, the security his pseudonym
provides. Likes that there are entire forums dedicated to speculating
about his identity: his gender, his sexuality, his age.
Of course, there’s one thing they all seem to agree on: he’s some sort of sex god.
Which is really, really awkward, because he’s a twenty-three year old virgin.
(Or: in which Stiles is a bestselling erotica novelist and Lydia makes him attend a convention to promote his upcoming book.)
Stiles is different. Stiles is not nice under any definition of
the word, he’s such an asshole. Sure, he’s a good guy deep down, he
punched Jackson square in the jaw when he mocked the McCall kid for an
asthma attack that one time, and Derek knows he helped Erica Reyes get
that video of her seizure taken down, but he’s so—
“Fuck off,
Derek.” Stiles tells him without sparing him a glance when Derek sits
next to him on chemistry. “I’m not up to play She’s All That with you,
dude.”
Stiles got ratted out by the Realm Guard for sneaking off with
Scott a total of seven times before his dad buckled, promising
sabbatical once Stiles reached Faehood, and enough Earth culture in the
meantime to have him talking like a born-and-bred Californian teenager.
He just didn’t have the tan.
(Or, in which Stiles
is a Frost Fae sent to the Earth Realm on the Fae version of Rumspringa
and immediately falls head-first into a Coffee Shop AU)
“I need you to have sex with Derek Hale like yesterday,” Lydia
says, slamming her bag down on the table with more force than strictly
necessary, mouth a tight line of displeasure. Stiles chokes on his boxed
apple juice, sputtering, limbs flailing.
“Say it louder,” Stiles hisses, leaning forward so they can talk in low tones. “I don’t think they heard you in the back.”
In which Derek receives complimentary notes in his locker from a secret
admirer, and though it turns out they weren’t actually for him, things
turn out pretty well in the end.
The shout is loud enough that Derek freezes, although he does not
actually “unhand” Ernie because Ernie had stepped on something sharp
last night and his foot needed to be bandaged. And then he might need to
be given a small dose of a sedative so that he can actually get some
rest.
Away from the curious eyes of the nice people visiting the Beacon Hills Wildlife Sanctuary.
Particularly away from whoever is yelling at the top of their lungs around wild animals.
Or, an AU in which Derek is a zookeeper trying to keep his penguins
healthy and Stiles is a protester trying to keep them happy… There is a
bit of miscommunication.
Stiles thought he’d dodged the conversation for another year, then his dad brought it up over breakfast.
Stiles is seventeen and a few months into his
final year of school. It’s the perfect time to complete his fertility
rite, problem is the only alphas interested are all creepy, and related
to people he goes to school with.
Enter Derek Hale, grumpy bastard and lead alpha of the Hale pack. He’s the solution to all of Stiles’ problems.
Stiles Stilinski hasn’t been Sheriff for very long and dealing with the
aftermath of the attack against the Hales ends up being far more
complicated than he ever could have imagined.
When those words appeared
scrawled against the soft inside of his wrist, Derek’s first thought was
that his mate and him would be involved in some kind of accident and
they’d died in front of him. The thought used to scare him when he was a
kid, the thought of being responsible for someone’s last minutes, of
holding someone’s hand, brushing soft strands of hair out of their eyes
and assuring them everything would be just fine made his heart race and
forced his wolf into the surface.
The Spark had been cool. It had been small, manageable. He could do some funky stuff with Mountain Ash, all with the power of belief.
And
now here he is, his Spark blown wide open, apparently coming down with a
fatal case of magical overload, and all that stands between him and
bleeding out is a grumpy owl that looks suspiciously like a feathered
version of Derek Hale.
(In which Stiles learns he’s a witch, but
instead of a wand and a trip to Diagon Alley, he gets blood magic, a
grumpy and reluctant owl as his companion, and an accidental blood bond
with Derek Hale.)
Stiles says, “Derek,” and his voice is hoarse, like he’s still
unsure how to use his vocal chords even after all this time. They have
no idea how long Stiles was stuck as an otter, let alone trapped in that
cage. According to Dr. Martin, Stiles doesn’t even know.
Derek doesn’t say anything.
After a few minutes, Stiles sighs and gets up. There’s a rustle of
clothing, and Derek grits his teeth against the image of Stiles wearing
his things, and Derek doesn’t relax until he hears the door open and
close.
Derek senses that Stiles is his bonded as soon as he sees him in the
woods. He doesn’t want to be bonded with anyone because that’s a
terrible idea, so he avoids him. However, the bond won’t be so easily
dissuaded…
Derek isn’t sure why he buys the house. He doesn’t need the space,
that much is certain. While it’s not as big as the one Derek grew up in,
something about the cheerful yellow paint and the wide staircase (with
banisters wide enough for children to slide down) draws him in.
A curse allows Stiles to see the threads of love between everyone in the world.. unfortunately his own wrist is threadless. . .. . “I
hope you’ve truly learned your lesson young one. Love is a gift and
trying to help people find it is a rewarding pursuit. The sight will
leave you now, but remember the lesson.”
After Derek becomes a deputy, he notices Stiles coming around a lot and
hanging out with Deputy Parrish. And yeah, he’s kind of jealous because
he thought he and Stiles might have had… something.
The worst thing, ever, is being uninspired. There is literally nothing
worse than putting a pencil to paper and having nothing come out. So, of
course, when Stiles’ visual arts professor instructs the class to
sketch someone as detailed as they possibly can, and Stiles pulls up a
blank on people to draw, he wants to punch himself in the face.
I just walked into a room at this party and someone yelled “dibs,“
Derek types, painstakingly tapping the message out with one hand
because the other is occupied with keeping his beer tucked closely to
his chest. The noise in the place is about as bad as the press of bodies
and it’s already driving him a little insane. He has never regretted
having enhanced senses more than this moment. It’s louder than most
nightclubs in here.
“How did we end up as those bitter, jaded teenagers we both
hate?” Jackson wonders one day when they’ve run out of insults and are,
instead, sitting on the bleachers during lunch.
“Lost love?” Stiles suggests.
“I think maybe it’s because we’re still clinging to it,” Jackson says.
“I’m magic,” Stiles raises his hands in the air and puts on a serious facial expression. “I have the sixth sense.”
“The sixth sense, huh? Is that what they’re calling bullshit these days?”
Stiles’
lips purse down hard, but he still smirks. Derek wonders if there’s any
single facial expression that Stiles can make that isn’t in some way at
least slightly amused, whether at himself or the expense of others.
“Non-believers aren’t welcome at my table, Derek.”
Derek scanned the leaderboard. It was written in tiny white on black
writing, but Derek could just make out Cora’s username “LittleWolf”
underneath what looked like a combination of digits and an alphabet
sneeze. ‘Who the hell is “St1l1nsk1”?’
Stiles grew up working at the Renaissance Faire. It was where
he felt like he could really be himself, where memories of his mother
still walked around with him. Finally, at age 18, he’s an adult and the
world of the Ren Faire opens up entirely new possibilities.
When Derek wakes up to the familiar touch of his husband, he has one
moment of pure, unspoiled happiness before he remembers that Stiles died
almost a year ago to the day. The ghost in his bed is just that: a
ghost. Except for the one time it isn’t.
When Derek isn’t lurking or growling or being weirdly adorable which, who knew that was a thing, he’s elsewhere and Stiles didn’t notice at first that the times he’s elsewhere align with the full moon.
Derek was nervous enough about this, aside from his hang-ups about rule
breaking. He has no idea what he’s doing, and he’s already accepted the
fact that he’s going to look like an idiot to whomever he buys from. He
hadn’t counted on the dispensary’s delivery guy being utterly fucking
gorgeous, and the type to brazenly (and unprofessionally) check Derek
out as well, biting his plump, pink bottom lip.
Derek knows it’s stupid and that he, as the older man, should be the one
to make it stop – and he tells himself so countless times, but he never
manages to keep away, not for long. Stiles pulls him in with his mouth
and hands and body and he gets under Derek’s skin like no other
Teen Wolf AU. Sheriff Stilinski marries Talia Hale, and even
though Stiles is happy for them, it does have the downside of making
Derek Hale, rapidly maturing alpha, his new step-brother, just as Stiles
is starting to worry that maybe he’s not a beta, like he always assumed
he was…
Derek gets in an accident and loses a few years of his memory; suddenly everything is different— he’s not a freshman loser anymore, but a popular senior, captain of the basketball team, a shoo-in for prom king, too, and he should have everything he’s ever wanted— except he doesn’t seem to be friends with Stiles anymore.
The one where Derek is very distracted by Stiles’ mouth, suspiciously invested in his dating life and adores the way he smells but there’s no fucking way he has a crush, OK?!
To Sourwolf: No, shut up, I could totally rock a powder blue bad boy and you know it
To Sourwolf: I don’t have anyone to go with and everyone else has a date. I thought I could go with Lydia since Parrish can’t take her but she’s already taking Mason so he doesn’t feel left out
Everyone was still staring at him, and Derek paused to wonder if he’d just made a huge mistake. But then Ms. Morrell was passing to him a stack of papers that looked like forms, and saying that he should arrive right after school on Friday, and not to be nervous because it was really just a formality to get a feel for the people participating. Callbacks weren’t until Monday. And that was how Derek Hale found himself auditioning for Beacon Hills High’s Spring production of Beauty and the Beast.
Stiles has been bullied for years and it gets worse when the Sheriff is deployed one last time. One day, in the middle of the daily beating, a Marine comes to his rescue. A very hot and muscular Marine who also happens to be in uniform. And unbeknownst to Stiles, they’ve met before. Stiles can’t remember but Derek remembers it all.
Stiles is slightly in love with Derek. Lydia coerces Stiles to ask Derek to the prom under the pretense that Derek had already agreed. Derek didn’t agree at all. After being rejected and humiliated, Stiles tries to cope with all the changes happening around him by putting some distance between himself and the pack. Derek didn’t agree to that either.
shealwaysreads 