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Mr Hale and Mr Stilinski Are NOT Dating

There have been whispers around the school that Mr Stilinski and Mr Hale are dating. They decide to set the record straight.

They’ve heard the whispers circulating the school, a buzz of chatter filling the school halls like a swarm of bees.

Mr Hale – the English teacher – and Mr Stilinski – the history teacher and assistant coach for the lacrosse team – are dating.

They weren’t quite sure when it started, but whispers of their alleged relationship had spread throughout the school. Snippets of gossip and rumours would trail back to them.

“Did you see the way Mr Hale looked at Mr Stilinski today?”

“I’ve never seen Mr Hale smile, but Mr Stilinski makes him smile.”

“They’d make such a cute couple.”

“I saw Mr Stilinski in Mr Hale’s office the other day.”

“Mr Hale helped Mr Stilinski put away the sports gear after practice yesterday, and they were in the equipment room for quite some time.”

“Mr Hale and Mr Stilinski always spend their lunch breaks together in their classrooms.”

For the most part, they were amusing, harmless gossip and stories made up by kids who had watched a few too many romance movies, but it was starting to get out of hand. So Stiles and Derek decided to address the rumours.

They called all their students together and gathered in one of the larger classrooms. Students crammed in where they could, sitting in chairs or on the floor, a few perching themselves on the cabinets that lined the far wall. The room was filled with a quiet buzz of chatter, a mixture of confusion, concern, and excitement.

Derek stood in front of his desk. His arms were crossed over his chest as he leant back against the edge of the desk. Stiles stood beside him, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket.

“Alright,” Derek said gruffly.

The room fell silent.

“We’re heard quite a lot of talk around the school about whether or not Mr Stilinski and I are dating,” Derek started.

The students started cheering. Some let out excited gasps and a few students shouted, “I knew it!”

Derek drew in a deep breath, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He waited for them to settle before continuing, “We’ve decided to clear this up, once and for all. Mr Stilinski and I are not dating.”

The room filled with shocked gasps, hushed whispers and a one student who was brave enough to shout, “Yet!”

Stiles ducked his head, hiding his smirk as he struggled to smother his laughter.

Derek waited for the room to fall quiet, his stern stare hushing the room.

“Mr Stilinski and I are not dating,” he reiterated. Pausing for a moment – waiting to see if the students would object again – before adding, “We’re married.”

The room burst into a cacophony of noise: cheers, screams, applause. You could have sworn they were celebrating winning the nationals, not finding out their teachers were married.

Stiles couldn’t hold it in any more, he burst out laughing, turning away from his students so that they couldn’t see how bright red his face was.

Derek glanced over at him, his harsh features softening as he smiled lovingly at Stiles and let out a quiet chuckle.

Stiles drew in a dep breath, gathering himself as he raised his voice above the noise to say, “And nothing happened in the equipment room.”

The members of the lacrosse team and a few other students who had heard that rumour started laughing.

[AO3]

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Happily Ever After

@stereklover-24 sent this request

Sterek: Childhood best friends, to high school sweethearts, to getting married and starting a family. Please and thank you. ☺️

Stiles meets Derek Hale on the first day of kindergarten, they're both 5. Derek is quiet, serious, and watches everything like he's trying to decide whether it's safe. Stiles is all limbs and words and decides within five minutes that they're going to be best friends.

“I like your lunchbox,” Stiles announces, plopping down next to Derek on the carpet. “It has a wolf on it. That’s cool.”

Derek looks at him like he’s not sure whether Stiles is joking or not. He’s not. Stiles thinks wolves are awesome.

From that moment, Derek lets him stay. They color next to each other, eat snacks side by side, and by the time the bell rings, Derek’s little hand is wrapped tightly around Stiles’.

When they're 7, Derek shows up at the Stilinski house after school with a scraped knee and eyes too bright to be normal. Stiles doesn’t notice the eyes, just the blood.

“Whoa! What happened? Did you fall off your bike? Do you want a popsicle? My dad says sugar helps everything.”

Derek says nothing, just lets Stiles drag him inside to the kitchen. Claudia Stilinski smiles when she sees them, gets a washcloth, and hands Derek a grape popsicle.

Later that night, Stiles catches a glimpse of Derek’s knee again. It’s healed. Completely.

“Are you, like, magic?” Stiles whispers under his blanket during a sleepover, flashlight under his chin.

Derek looks away. “No. Just… special.”

Stiles grins. “Cool.”

At age 9, They camp out in Stiles’ backyard with a tent and sleeping bags, flashlight games and burnt marshmallows. The moon is full, and Derek’s fidgety. He keeps glancing at the sky.

“Do you turn into a wolf-wolf?” Stiles asks in a whisper, like it’s the biggest secret in the world.

Derek shakes his head. “Not exactly. But I can hear stuff. Smell stuff and my face changes.”

“what about what am I thinking? Do you know that?”

“That you want another s’more,” Derek says, and Stiles cackles.

They make a pact that night, under the stars and zipped into sleeping bags: best friends forever, even if one of them is a wolf.

When they're 11, Stiles is the only one allowed at the Hale house without question. Talia Hale watches him with soft eyes, like she knows her middle son has picked someone important.

Derek’s older sister Laura teases him endlessly. “Stiles this, Stiles that. You talk about him more than you talk about your comics.”

Stiles is delighted. “You talk about me? Aw, Derek, you like me.”

Derek scowls, but his ears turn pink.

Middle school is rough. Derek gets taller and moodier. Stiles gets mouthier. They fight sometimes - real fights, with yelling and slamming doors - but they always find their way back.

Derek’s shifts start coming with more intensity. He hides it at first, tries to push Stiles away.

But Stiles won’t go. He shows up with snacks and Star Wars and starts reading aloud from a comic book when Derek’s curled up, back to the wall and hands shaking.

“You’re still you, Der,” he says softly, nudging his friend’s shoulder. “You’re always you with me.”

Derek exhales. “I know.”

By the time they're 14, the bond between them is deeper than ever. Stiles knows how to spot the signs of Derek’s senses going haywire, knows when to pull him aside, when to crack a joke to break the tension.

Derek knows when Stiles is spiraling, about school, about his mom’s fading health, and anchors him with quiet presence and unshakable loyalty.

They sit on the roof of the Stilinski house one summer night, legs dangling over the edge, and Stiles says, “You know we’re gonna be old men together, right?”

Derek snorts. “I’d be okay with that.”

Stiles grins. “Good. 'Cause I’m not letting you go.”

Derek looks at him, eyes glowing faintly in the dark, and says, “I know.”

They’re walking home from school, aged 15, when Stiles bumps Derek’s hand with his own - once, twice - until finally, Derek laces their fingers together without a word.

They don’t talk about it that day. But the next morning, Stiles shows up at Derek’s locker with a grin and a smoothie, and Derek blushes like it’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for him.

A week later, they share their first kiss in the preserve, behind a fallen tree they used to climb when they were kids. It’s a little awkward, all nerves and noses bumping, but it makes Derek smile in that quiet way that lights up his whole face.

Derek has his first panic shift at 16 after a rough night - something with a hunter that didn’t end in violence, but came too close.

Stiles is there in minutes, pressing his forehead to Derek’s fur and whispering, “You’re okay, I’ve got you, I’m here,” over and over until the wolf fades back into boy.

They lie in the dirt, side by side, and Stiles curls his pinky around Derek’s. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be here.”

That night, Derek tells his mom they’re dating. Talia just smiles and says, “Took you long enough.”

Claudia Stilinski dies in the spring when the boys are 17. Stiles breaks into pieces. Derek is there for every single one.

He sneaks into the hospital late that night. He lets Stiles cry into his chest. He goes on long drives with him in the middle of the night when the silence of the house becomes too much.

And when the funeral is over, and the guests are gone, Derek curls up in the Stilinski living room with Stiles and Noah, and they all sit in quiet grief together.

That’s when Noah starts calling Derek “son” and keeps an extra plate at dinner for him.

They graduate high school at age 18, hand in hand. Derek wears a tie Stiles picked out. Stiles wears a smile that’s held together by caffeine and nerves.

Derek is staying in Beacon Hills to help with pack responsibilities. Stiles is going to college two hours away.

They don’t break up.

Instead, they make late night phone calls, send ridiculous selfies, and drive back and forth every weekend they can manage.

Stiles keeps a framed photo of Derek on his dorm desk. Derek keeps one of them they took at the lake, Stiles in the water, laughing with his whole body, in his wallet.

They fall into rhythm. Grown up love. They learn how to argue without hurting each other. How to apologize. How to say, “I need space,” and “I miss you,” and “Please don’t shut me out.”

Stiles starts calling Derek “home” more often than he calls any place.

Derek starts laughing more. Easier. Around Stiles, he becomes softer. Braver.

They spend spring break in a tiny cabin in the mountains, where Derek teaches Stiles how to track by scent and Stiles teaches Derek how to make microwave s’mores.

“I think this is going really well,” Stiles says, curled in Derek’s arms on the couch.

“It is,” Derek answers. “it really is”

It’s nothing grand. It doesn’t need to be.

They'd just turned 20 when they’re sitting on the roof of the Stilinski house again, just like when they were kids. The stars are out. There’s a half eaten pizza box between them, and Derek is holding Stiles’ hand like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

Stiles is mid rant about something he read online when Derek says, out of nowhere, “Marry me.”

Stiles freezes. “What?”

Derek looks at him, calm and sure. “I want to marry you. Not someday. Soon. Now. Not because we’re young and dumb, but because we’ve been doing this since we were five, and I’ve loved you every way there is.”

Stiles swallows, eyes wide. “You didn’t even get on one knee, you jerk.”

Derek shrugs. “I will, if it makes you say yes.”

Stiles tackles him with a kiss instead, laughing through tears. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

The pizza gets cold. The stars keep shining. And Stiles wears the ring and gets Derek the exact same one.

After the proposal, nothing changes, and yet everything does.

They’re already a unit, but now there’s a ring, quiet plans, and the word fiancé slipping from Stiles’ mouth with a giddy sort of pride. Derek pretends to roll his eyes every time, but he secretly loves it.

Stiles splits his time between college and weekends at home. Derek finds a small house not far from the preserve, a fixer upper with creaky floors and wild blackberry bushes in the backyard. It becomes theirs in a thousand little ways: shared mugs, a welcome mat Stiles insists on buying, and half written post-its left on the fridge.

When Stiles stresses about finals or internship interviews, Derek cooks for him, pulls him into his arms, and reminds him to breathe.

When Derek has a rough shift or too many responsibilities with the pack, Stiles drives back without question, grounding him with touch and laughter and late night movie marathons.

They fall asleep more often in each other’s arms than not. And every time they wake up together, it feels like another tiny promise.

Stiles starts his last year of college at 21, internship at the sheriff’s department in full swing. Noah loves having him around again, even if he grumbles about Stiles reorganizing everything “wrong.”

Derek opens a small business - restoring vintage furniture and handmade wood pieces out of the garage. Stiles is the one who came up with the name: Hale & Heirlooms. It sticks. Derek builds, and Stiles helps with the website and marketing between studying and shiftwork.

They’re busy, always, but they make space. Sunday breakfasts. Midnight walks. Slow dancing in the kitchen to music from a beat up old speaker.

They talk about the wedding in bits and pieces. Neither of them wants something huge - just their people, their pack, their love. Simple, intimate, real.

In the spring, they adopt a big, goofy rescue dog that Stiles names Bark Ruffalo.

“Are we domestic now?” Stiles asks one evening, dog curled at their feet, takeout containers on the table.

Derek kisses his cheek. “We’ve been domestic since you liked my wolf lunchbox when we were 5.”

Stiles graduates when they're 22 on a sunny Saturday with Derek and Noah in the front row, clapping like they’re trying to out cheer the rest of the stadium. Derek gives him a hug that lasts a second too long and whispers, “I’m proud of you”.

That summer, they get married in the backyard of their home, beneath strings of fairy lights and the blooming blackberry bushes. Peter and Cora stand beside them. Noah cries during his speech. Peter doesn’t, but he actually smiles (it’s weird for everyone).

Derek wears a dark suit and a soft expression that never leaves his face. Stiles wears a tie with a tiny wolf pin.

Their vows are quiet, simple. Promises wrapped in memories and inside jokes.

“I’ve loved you since before I knew what love was,” Stiles says. “And I’ll keep loving you - even when you steal all the covers or leave your tools everywhere.”

Derek smiles. “You’ve always been my anchor, my best friend. I’ll never stop choosing you.”

They kiss to cheers and laughter, and later that night, barefoot on their back porch, Stiles leans into Derek’s shoulder and says, “We did it.”

Derek laces their fingers together. “We’re just getting started.”

They’re lying in bed on a quiet Sunday morning when they're 23, Bark Ruffalo snoring at their feet, sunlight stretching across the sheets. Stiles is half awake, fingers tracing idle circles on Derek’s chest.

“I’ve been thinking,” Stiles mumbles.

“That’s dangerous,” Derek teases, lips brushing Stiles’ hair.

Stiles pokes him in the ribs, but then he stills, a little nervous. “What if we had a kid?”

Derek blinks. “You mean… like, a real kid? Our kid?”

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve got the house, the business, the unreasonably affectionate dog. why not add a tiny person into the chaos?”

Derek is quiet, thoughtful. Then he says, “I’ve thought about it, too. I just… didn’t know how to bring it up.”

Stiles smiles, bright and a little shy. “Really?”

“Yeah. I want that with you,” Derek says. “A family.”

It’s a warm evening, and they’re sitting around the firepit in the Hales’ backyard - Cora, Derek, and Stiles passing drinks and skewering marshmallows.

Stiles brings it up first. “So, uh… hypothetical question. How do you feel about babies?”

Cora raises a brow. “Like, human ones? Or, like, feral wolf cubs?”

Derek snorts. Stiles grins. “Ours. Maybe. One day.”

Cora looks between them, soft understanding dawning in her eyes. “You want to have a baby.”

Stiles nods. “We do. And we were hoping… if you were okay with it, if it felt right to you…you might consider being our surrogate.”

She goes quiet for a moment, serious in that deeply Cora way. Then she sets her drink down and says, “You’re my family. Of course I will.”

Derek’s throat works around the lump forming. “Cora…”She nudges him with her shoulder. “You’re going to be a great dad, Der. You both are.”

They go through everything together. the appointments, the planning, the research. Stiles throws himself into it like it’s a thesis project. Derek reads every werewolf specific prenatal book ever written, cross referencing full moon safety protocols with obsessive care.

They design the nursery with warm wood tones, moon and star wallpaper, and a rocking chair by the window. Derek hand builds the crib. Stiles insists on glow in the dark constellations for the ceiling.

Every kick, every sonogram, every small update fills their home with a kind of joy that hums in the walls.

Cora lets Stiles talk to the bump, lets Derek rest his head there when he needs to. She teases them, of course, calls them “hover dads” and rolls her eyes when they freak out about Cora craving raw steak (she doesn't eat it), but there’s love in it.

So much love.

It happens fast, too fast, and yet somehow not fast enough. The whole pack is on standby, helping, watching, waiting.

Stiles paces, heart in his throat. Derek is pale, still as stone, until the baby’s first cry cuts through the house like magic.

A healthy baby boy. Dark hair, tiny hands, and eyes that glow faintly gold for just a second before blinking open.

They name him Orion Hale Stilinski.

Cora hands him over with tears in her eyes, kisses her nephews’s forehead, and says, “He already smells like pack.”

Derek holds Orion like he’s something holy. Stiles wraps his arms around both of them, and for a long time, they just exist like that, wrapped in warmth and breathless awe.

They bring Orion home wrapped in a soft blanket and too many hopes. Bark Ruffalo tries to lick his head. Stiles cries about it. Derek smiles so wide his cheeks hurt.

That night, while Stiles rocks the baby and Derek watches from the doorway, quiet and overwhelmed, Stiles whispers, “We did it, Der.”

Derek walks over, presses a kiss to Orion’s forehead, then to Stiles’. “We really did.”

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Stiles, drunk off his ass, setting his wedding certificate on fire: GOOD LUCK TRYING TO RETURN ME WITHOUT THE RECEIPT!

Derek: ...Aren't you worried about that?

Peter: That's not the original. The real one is behind bulletproof glass in a safe that requires my finger-print and retina scan.

Derek: ...

Peter: He's mine now. Nobody is going to take him away from me again.

Derek: I am so glad you two got married, because nobody else should be involved in any of this. You deserve each other.

Peter: That is the nicest thing you have ever said to me, dear nephew.

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This gif made me realize that every living Hale has some sort of obsession with Stiles. Derek, Peter, Malia… Cora is an outlier!

Stiles is Hale kryptonite!

(Not my gif. Belongs to @endiness )

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Derek: If I die, would you remarry? Stiles: If you die, I'm putting the romance in necromancy and bringing you back. Derek: Are you really performing dark rituals to keep me alive? Stiles: I said "I do" through sickness and in health, and I meant that as a threat.

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Art inspired by You would kill for this, just a little bit, you would by Alice9 on Ao3 as requested by @blairkaramell !

Thank you for the fic rec, it was a delightful read! had to go with some new-parent-exhaustion (':

Open for requests through the first week of June - feel free to send an ask! ☆

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I am completely normal about this man (No I'm not)

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i know erica sent this photo to stiles and he just moaned out loud in front of everyone

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there’s something about the concept of Stiles joining Derek’s pack and over time becoming more wolf than human even if he remains technically a human, that i absolutely love… so here’s a little something about that.

losing his entire family transforms Derek into someone more primitive, more feral, parts of himself that had been buried under years of masking when living out alongside humans are now back with a vengeance.

his mother always believed in living a double life, living the best of both worlds and Derek always thought the same but then his entire family burned to death.

now he wants to live as a wolf. let the wolf to the forefront and take the lead. doesn’t mean he’s in wolf form all the time it just means he’s letting his instincts take control and he stops second guessing them.

Stiles joins his pack pretty early on because Scott has a death wish apparently and Stiles does not want to die thank you very much.

he starts spending all of his time with Derek and the betas, in the forest. his dad starts asking questions because Stiles is not even there for supper when he’s off duty anymore and he’s almost never in his bed in the morning either.

Stiles can’t sleep without Derek anymore. his room smells wrong. his own bed feels wrong to sleep on. the entire house smells wrong. his dad is never home anyway.

at school he keeps zoning out while looking outside the window, into the forest. non-packmates brush against him in the halls and he has to make a giant effort not to snarl at them.

Isaac, Erica and Boyd become his shadows. during lunch they leave the school grounds and run into the forest doing God knows what. the school starts talking, the sheriff gets informed. Scott gets told.

they both corner Stiles when he gets back from school along with Isaac, Erica and Boyd.

Stiles sighs through his nose when he sees Scott’s bike and the cruiser in the driveway. he looks to the three wolves and they look back. they haven’t needed to use words in a while.

they follow him inside the house that hasn’t felt like home to Stiles in some time now.

Scott is pissed the wolves came along, the sheriff doesn’t understand. he asks if they’re Stiles’s new friends and that maybe they aren’t a good influence on him, which provokes some low growls from the wolves. Isaac taking one of Stiles’s wrists in one hand and pulling slightly with a short whine.

Stiles soothes him with a touch and huff through his nose. won’t be long.

Stiles tells his dad that his grades are fine so whats the problem. his dad is a bit stunned. Scott is so red he looks like he’ll explode at any moment.

his dad says he’s just worried about him and Scott nods along. Stiles says he’s fine and that they don’t need to worry about him. they just need to let him be.

the sheriff kind of panics because it feels a lot like he’s losing control of his kid. like he’s actively losing him somehow. but he can’t pinpoint exactly why so he just deflates in defeat.

Stiles says again he doesn’t have to worry about him and with that he goes upstairs to his room to grab what he had come here for and then he’s out of the door, his wolves leading the way, leaving a livid Scott and a shook sheriff behind.

Scott comes out the door and shouts things at Stiles. Stiles doesn’t even look his way as he gets into his jeep and backs out the driveway.

when they get to the forest, Stiles hugs Derek tightly and lets him nuzzle his neck, his hair. Putting his scent back on him. he tells Derek what happened. Derek just looks at him, intently.

Stiles tells him he doesn’t want to leave anymore. he wants to stay here. with Derek. with the betas. that going into town doesn’t feel right anymore. and he gets upset as he tries to explain to Derek why he can’t be out there anymore.

Derek just pulls him into his arms and makes the low rumbling noise he makes whenever Stiles or one of his wolves are upset and need to be soothed.

Stiles clings to him. his alpha. staying away from him for too long is becoming painful. the betas can feel it too. the stronger their pack gets, the harder it is to be apart. being with the betas at school is just enough to keep them all sane.

the day Stiles turns 18, he moves out of the house and into the forest. the betas + Peter helps with the move. he moves out while his dad is at work and he gets home to his son’s room stripped of everything except furniture and a letter on the bare mattress.

Stiles’ words tells him not to worry about him and that he’s not far. that Stiles loves him but he needs to do this. that Stiles will keep an eye on him so not to do anything stupid.

the sheriff wonders around the house feeling numb until he notices the framed picture of him and Stiles when he was still a child, is missing from its frame on the wall. Stiles obviously took it with him. and thats what breaks him. he’s upset but that small gesture gives him hope. hope that his son is not completely lost to him.

the pack builds themselves a life out in the forest. they barely leave it now. only when Stiles wants to check on his dad or pack matters require them to leave it.

Scott follows Allison and her family out of state after Derek’s pack make a formal request. No hunters will be permitted to enter much less reside on Hale lands without explicit permission from the pack. Chris Argent tries to negotiate but the mated Alpha pair is adamant. either they leave their territory or they’ll be made to leave it.

Stiles sets up protective runes around his childhood home. the best ones he’s got. and he leaves an amulet on his dad’s bedside table and a note that says to put it on and never take it off. the sheriff does as he’s told without question.

by now he’s used to his son doing things from the shadows. he barely sees him but he also feels near at all times. like he’s always there, watching over him. like he said he would.

sometimes he finds baskets of stuff on his porch when he gets back from a long shift. some seasonal produce, fresh game, the occasional preserves and pickles. there’s no note usually but he knows who leaves them.

when he unpacks the baskets he leaves them back out on the porch to be picked up again.

sometimes he can hear howls from the forest. it took him a long time to finally understand what they meant, since after all, there’s no wolves in California.

Stiles is part of something old. so old it’s actually ancient. and sacred. something that has its own culture and rules. something he will never fully understand. but he understands enough and it settles something in him that had been unsettled ever since that day him and Scott cornered Stiles after school.

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i think we forget too easily how Derek pretty much has endless physical stamina.

he can go on fucking Stiles for hours and hours and not get tired. his cock just stays hard even when he comes multiple times. it’s absolutely insane and Stiles is sure he was a saint in a past life to have ended up with a man like that in his life (in his bed)

and that’s why i still stand by my previous statement that Derek turned Stiles into a pillow princess.

Derek makes him ride him and Stiles pouts but he does it because Derek loves to watch him ride his dick but he whines about it and he gets tired fast, his thighs aching and he can’t get the angle right. Derek always ends up holding him in place by the waist to fuck up into him hard.

Stiles just likes to let Derek do whatever he wants, manhandling him this way and that as long as Derek doesn’t stop fucking into him.

Stiles definitely wouldn’t be able to keep up with him if he tried to match Derek’s energy. so he’s happy to just lay there and let Derek do all the work. Not that the Alpha minds, it’s actually exactly how he likes it. exactly how he wants Stiles.

he wants him pliant and soft and submissive. he’s so pretty, when he lets Derek take control.

whenever Derek is finally done with him, Stiles is so far gone it takes him at least an hour to come down with Derek at his side helping him along.

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IMPORTANT

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This was another request from an anon. Hope it came out to your liking since you were a little open minded for some parts 👻

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Protective Stiles

Give me unhinged Stiles. All human, full confidence, protective as fuck Stiles.

I want Stiles' name to be broadcasted on Nemeton weekly as the pack guardian. Not Emissary, not Protector Druid, just full, no holds barred— willing to die, happy to kill, will gut you like a fish if you touch my beta's and or alphas—Stiles.

Isaac and Stiles are bullshitting one day when Isaac says his "I spent my childhood locked in a freezer. How would I know how to be helpful?" And Stiles rolls his eyes.

"You can't use that every time Isaac." It's unfortunate that Aiden is walking passed them at that moment and he glares at the beta.

"It's where you belonged mutt." The twin hisses and Stiles is out of his seat so fast Scott doesn't have time to grab him. Cause sure, Stiles can't beat up Aiden but the werewolf can't heal his vision back if he's missing a goddamn eyeball. And it takes both Scott and Boyd to pull Stiles away before he stabs him in the face with a newly fashioned, mountain ash pencil.

Some new supernatural cat girl has been stalking Allison for weeks. Stiles at first tries to reason with her, tells her she's under Alpha McCalls protection and though she's a hunter Allison will leave her alone as long as she behaves. But Cat Girl won't have any of it and when she threatens to scalp Allison's 'pretty little head' Stiles runs her over with the jeep.

A werewolf with knowledge of the Hale pack comes back to town one day and is relentlessly harassing Derek. He blames him for the fire and Stiles happens to be out at the preserve when he hears the asshole talking about Kate. "Admit it Hale, you're glad they died! Selling your family out for one hard rut. Or did she make you the bitch?"

Neither notice Stiles and his metal bat wrapped in barbed wire and dipped in wolfsbane until he's on the guy. Derek watches in awestruck horror as Stiles beats the crap out of him. Human Stiles covered in blood and panting as he stands over the unconscious omega. He spits on the guy before turning to Derek and the alpha is both utterly terrified and completely turned on when narrowed and angry eyes look to him with concern and gentleness.

"Please don't listen to him Der. None of it was your fault."

Alpha Ito makes it her mission to warn any new supernatural travelers that Beacon Hills is protected by two packs and one human. "You may speak freely with Alpha Hale or Alpha McCall if there is a problem but I implore you, do not insult the fox."

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his manipulative ways and beautiful blue eyes have enchanted me

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Being Human

Derek knows humans are fragile in comparison to wolves. He did have human siblings after all and his mother drilled their vulnerability into him since he was old enough to understand. He knows he has to be gentle around them, knows they are weaker and prone to sickness. Consciously he knows this, but he isn't at all prepared for when Stiles—the only human in the pack—is hurt.

Actually hurt.

Gasping, crying, arms shaking in pain hurt.

He doesn't know what the fuck to do. Because they're alone, trapped, and he can smell the wrongness coming off the human. He can hear his heartbeat fluctuating from weak to sporadic and the sweat and blood and scent of fear blankets the enclosed space so profoundly he thinks he's going to suffocate off the smell.

He siphons away whatever he can but there's still too much. It's barely a bandage over an open artery, like trying to put out a fire with an eyedropper. Even with him pulling away most of the pain the infection has already spread. Every gasping breath and rattling cough has Derek's body twitching in panic.

Human.

The word is a curse, a defect in his world. If Stiles were a wolf he could re-brake and heal the broken rib digging into his lung. The gash on his side would have slowed in it's bleeding if not stopped all together. If he were a wolf there would be no infection or sickness or bloody nose. The bite is a gift.

Derek doesn't know what to do with the frail, weakened human laying with his head on his thigh. He can't even think through the dread and worry and helplessness. Stiles curls in on himself, leans into the hand that is trying to staunch the blood and pull away the pain.

"Not quite how I imagined things would go when I daydreamed about my face down in your lap Sourwolf..." He jokes. Derek almost wants to shake him for it. Stiles is dying and he's joking.

"Don't talk. The pack should be here soon."

"N-Not talk? Have you met me? I'm alone in the dark with Beacon Hill's most eligible grump and you expect me not to make a sex joke?"

"Stiles!" Derek growls and then stops when he hears the awful whistling sound coming from his chest.

"I'm fine. Just a little fever..." Derek wishes it were just a little fever. Wishes he knew the difference between a little fever and this. He doesn't remember his baby sister feeling this warm when his mother said she was sick. He doesn't really remember much of the younger ones... the human ones. Maybe he'd be more helpful if he did...

"Stop it." Stiles chastise. "You keep frowning like that and you're eyebrows will grow together." Derek hates that he does this... Hates that he's the one in pain and he's still trying to lighten Derek's mood. Hates that he's smiling at him through a grimace, that he's looking at him like he's worth something when he knows he isn't.

"I'm okay Der." Stiles says gently. "You k-know you can't actually get rid of me right? I've sorta got a pool going with the pack. How long it'll take till I can get you to say you love me. It's gotta be unironically of course. Lydia's rules." Derek feels his heartbeat tick up at that and Stiles smiles. "I say this year, Scott gave you three. But I know I'm your favorite so it shouldn't be hard."

"Stop moving." He begs when Stiles turns onto his back to look up at him.

"Better view."

"Stiles!" Stubborn! Humans were stubborn. Weak and frail and as stubborn as they came.

"You're beautiful." Stiles murmurs and Derek feels his breath catch in his throat. "Maybe that's wrong to say to a guy huh? But like, I always thought it. Y-Your eyes. I like looking at them. Even when you go all grumpy and broody and flash red at me, they're still beautiful."

Derek feels Stiles' body shake with another jolt of pain and maybe, he's the one crying now. "You gotta promise me something Der, okay? P-Please. You gotta take care of my dad."

"Don't-"

"Would you just listen? I love Scott, I trust him with my life. He's my brother when it comes down to it but he's pretty freaking useless when he's got a new girlfriend with him and dad's going to be bad for a while. He'll drink. A lot... or worse he'll just jump head first into any job they throw at him. P-Please just watch over him for me?." Derek feels himself nodding and Stiles' pained smile widens.

"You know you've always been my alpha right?" Derek startles at that. "Like I said, I love Scott and I love the pack. I'd do anything for any one of you but... since the beginning. Since the start, you've always been my alpha."

"Stiles-"

"Just take care of dad. Scott will be okay, Lydia might need you more than she lets on. And Isaac says he doesn't want anything to do with you but it's not true. I-It's not. If anything he wants you to be proud of him. So call him okay? He'd be on the next flight home, he'd be back here at your side the second he sees your name light up. He kept the same number. Explain it to him. Tell him why you sent him away. N-Not for you, for him. He thinks you hate him, don't let him think it anymore."

Derek can't understand. Can't begin to make sense of this human. This small, 145 pound, eighteen year old looking up at him with all the tranquility and calmness of a condemned man. He's no longer scared. Fear has been replaced with a sense of serenity and its worse! Far worse than the terror. Derek presses harder onto the bleeding wound, chokes on the sob that wants to wrench it's way out of his throat when he hears it... The low howl a mile off.

He covers Stiles' ears and howls back, feeling relief and hope and looking at those confused brown eyes that haven't stopped watching him since they ended up in this hell hole.

"D-Der?"

"I love you." He says, because he does. Because he's never not cared for this ridiculous human being. He had been his headache, his friend, his anchor... The one who has protected him, saved him, given him a family when he never thought he deserved it. The resilient, caring little human that looked at him like he meant something. Like he was worthy of meaning something.

Resilient and stubborn and caring and selfless and fragile... And Derek wishes he were half the human Stiles is.

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