never found a boy (to love me like you do)

felicitysmock:

where Stiles and Derek start to play I Never and fall into bed together instead.

~*~

“This is a stupid idea.”

“Dude, would you relax? Woah, actually,” Stiles clutches his chest dramatically. “Can you even do that? If your heart rate slows does a bomb go off somewhere?”

Derek glares at him across the table, ignoring the way Stiles’ teasing smile makes his stupid, dumb heart pick up. He’s surprised it doesn’t make his own chest explode. Stiles, it would appear, is Derek’s personal fuck you to Peter claiming he doesn’t have a heart. Because whenever Stiles is around Derek’s heart decides to remind him that hey, it does exist, and it has feelings… For a stupid, ridiculously attractive, argumentative nineteen year old.

Keep reading

fanfictionfridge:

@sterekweek-2018Day 3: Vampires

It all began the night Scott and Stiles were camping in the Beacon Hills preserve. Stiles went out looking for more firewood and ran into a wolf with glowing red eyes. He fled back to Scott, who reassured him there wasn’t news of any wolves being back in California and even if there were, they had plenty of easier prey than humans—it’s not like the wolf bothered to chase after Stiles. Stiles relaxed further when Scott explained to him that red eyes were probably just a refraction from the flashlight.

After the trip, Stiles went on a research spree for red-eyed wolves anyway, and the result was a mish-mash of shapeshifter and vampire lore, along with rumors about the abandoned Hale house supposedly being overrun with red-eyed animals. Stiles took his trusty metal bat to investigate, choosing to do it while daylight still poured into the foyer.

It wasn’t enough to stop the attack.

Derek was at least two hundred years old, a vampiric shapeshifter who could withstand indirect sunlight. He usually kept to himself, bored by humankind except when he needed to sustain himself. He’d already fed the night when the kid stumbled upon him, and he thought that’d be the last time he’d be seeing him. But here was the same kid finding his domain, armed with nothing but a bat, as though he was taunting Derek with the cliche of vampires turning into bats. It was so foolishly brave that Derek wanted to know more.

Derek didn’t like getting attached, but everything about Stiles—from his unyielding sarcasm to the sweet taste of his blood—brought up an urge to own every last shred of him. 

And Stiles was willing to do whatever it took to stay in Derek’s graces, including convincing himself that he wanted everything that Derek offered.

It couldn’t stay like that forever. Stiles warned Derek that his dad was the Sheriff and the longer Derek kept him prisoner, the more intensive the search would become. Derek warned Stiles he’d find him if he tried to run, nothing could stop Derek from taking his claim whenever he pleased.

Stiles’s waning health was what got to Derek. Stiles wasn’t himself anymore and he tasted sour. So Derek agreed to release Stiles back to the other humans on his own terms.

Stiles lay in his hospital room, alternating between gut wrenching shame and grief. He refused to tell Dad where he’d been missing for over two weeks or why his body was covered in what seemed like bite marks in various states of healing. When Scott came with pizza and DVDs, hoping to distract him, Stiles didn’t even bother unwrapping from his blanket burrito. Scott hoped Stiles would text him whenever he felt better. What Stiles didn’t say was he doubted he’d ever feel better with the figurative gaping hole in his chest.

The news of Stiles’s disappearance and resurface got spread around enough for hunters to hear about it. They waited patiently for an occasion when the bound human reunited with his monster before striking.

Stiles understood his feelings for Derek were twisted, but that didn’t stop him from crying out when Derek got impaled with a silver rod. He was held back from helping, forced to watch as Derek’s body withered before his very eyes. The hunters told him he was free, but Stiles didn’t feel free.

Some time later, Stiles found himself back at the Hale house, seeking something, maybe closure. He nearly pissed himself when he found Derek again. Turned out that the precautions the hunters took in burying the corpse weren’t entirely accurate for Derek’s species, and the lingering magic in Derek’s body resuscitated him, burning his powers out in the process. It’d take centuries for Derek to return to his former glory, and without bloodlust clouding his judgment, the last thing he wanted was for Stiles to get hurt because of it, especially when Stiles never even got a choice in the matter.

Stiles followed Derek’s final order. He went abroad to college, traveling and dating and living for over twenty years before he came back, unable to let go of his brief childhood memory of Derek despite all that time spent apart. This time, though, he knew what he was choosing, and Derek welcomed him home.