#Stiles is very familiar with Derek's cock

[anothersigh]

Tell me something straight about Derek Hale. His cock doesn't count, it's curve a little to the left.

(Stiles can confirm that)

[thebigoblin]

play stupid games

tags: Established Relationship, Alpha Derek Hale, Attempt at Humor, Cheesy, Fluff, Derek Hale is a Softie, Implied Sexual Content

a/n: inspired by a reel on instagram. and the title is from Taylor's song "Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince."

read on ao3

The tabs opened on his chrome browser make no sense. Not one bit. But he supposes that's just a representation of his own mind, and his morbid curiosity, and whose fault is that, really? No one's. Perhaps his mom's — but no more than it's his dad's to have given him his obsession with everything non-sensical. His dad just has to find patterns, and really, maybe his entire problem is that he is the combination of two very weirdly specific people.

What was he working on, again?

He squints at the tabs. There's too many of them, the edges stuck together so close it's like one long continuous tab instead, but he can see the lines between them, even if deciphering which tab is what is proving difficult. He could have used separate windows, but oh no, all sane ideas come to him after things are said and done.

Seriously, what was he working on?

"What are you working on?"

"What the fuck!"

The sound of another person in the room, so close to his ear, hot breath on the left side of his neck, has him jumping and flailing on his desk chair.

Rough and familiar hands grab him so that he doesn't brain himself against the floor by falling right off the chair, and he curses, because this is his life.

Once he's sitting straight, he glares up at the smirking asshole beside him. "Fuck you," he says, with feeling. "I'm giving you a bell for Christmas!"

Derek's lips tick upwards, like ha ha, that's funny. Funny that Stiles thinks he could get away with that. "My birthday gift has to be something good, then."

"I'll show a good gift!"

"That's what I am saying, Stiles."

"Ugh, you're fucking annoying." He's still glaring up at Derek, the angle not kind to his neck, so he looks back down at the screen. Derek just moves closer, a line of heat against his side that has Stiles' anger nearly melting off, but no! He'll persist.

Distraction. Yes. That is what he needs, so he clicks his mouse rather aggressively and moves the arrow to one of the tabs randomly. The title of it hovers over the tab as he does so, and Stiles wonders what could have prompted him to look at a YouTube video of making a DIY skirt from old clothes.

"You would look good in a short red skirt." Derek says this right into his left ear, his lips moving along his skin, from the top of his ear to the bottom of it, and because he's obnoxious, Derek bites his earlobe, too.

"Go away!" He slaps at Derek's chest, but his boyfriend only laughs at his half-hearted attempts. "Nuh uh, you're distracting me and I- I have work!"

"What work?"

Stiles doesn't really remember.

"You forgot, didn't you?" Derek just laughs some more, his hands wrapping around Stiles' shoulders, and Stiles pouts. "Search something for me."

"You have your own smartphone and internet, Distractingwolf!"

"But I also have you," Derek states this, a smile in his voice, and hey, it's true.

Stiles rolls his eyes and mutters, "Sap," before asking, "What?"

"I want to check something, but there's a condition."

Stiles cocks his eyebrow, just like Derek does. He's been spending too much time with Derek, and it's because of shit like this: Derek likes to climb the side of the Sheriff's house, get inside the Sheriff's barely-legal son's bedroom, and spend time either glaring at Stiles, pushing him onto surfaces like the door and walls and the bed and kissing him, or making him do random internet searches that 99% of the time happens to be information of a new supernatural creature they have to deal with.

Point is, Stiles has been spending too much time with Derek, and he loves it a fucking lot.

"Condition, huh? You getting kinky on me, Sourwolf?"

Derek moves around his chair so that his bulging biceps and sexy, veiny arms — that he knows are there below the leather jacket and the henley because he's seen his boyfriend shirtless, even if unfortunately they haven't wandered down to pantless situations — brackets him between the desk and the chair. The movement also pushes his chair further towards the desk, just a little, and Derek's chin rests on top of Stiles' hair.

"Maybe." Stiles' whole body shivers at the thought of it. They haven't had sex, but Stiles yaps about it, thinks about it often. Wants to take Derek in his mouth, wants Derek to have his way with him. He wants, and wishes, for Derek to be inside him — pound him so hard he forgets what life is, just for a moment or two or more. He's seen the alpha strength, and it's too much. Perfect. "Stiles."

"You can't blame a guy for wanting to have sex with his hot werewolf boyfriend," he retorts, huffing at the reprimand. "I can wait until you are ready, and I will, but I can think about it, can't I?"

Derek doesn't answer him, just puts his hand over Stiles' on the mouse and moves it the way he likes it. Stiles wants to be that, a ragdoll under Derek's ministrations, and nope, he can't pop a boner right now. He wants sex, but he respects Derek. But he's also a healthy ninetenn-year-old young man, and there goes his dick in his sweatpants, chubbing up like a balloon being filled with air.

Derek opens up a new window and goes to Google, his free hand coming to rest on Stiles' thigh. Stiles' breath hitches.

"Stiles," Derek's voice is low, his sex-voice. They've never done handjobs, or blowjobs, or any real dick-on-dick or hand-on-dick or mouth-on-dick action, but they have done phone sex, and about 50% of Stiles' brain, at this point, is filled with how Derek sounds when he's turned on, commanding. Close to coming, post-pleasure. Stiles knows this voice, too.

"You don't have to do anything you're not ready to," Stiles says, and he means it. Derek's head dips down and he kisses Stiles on the neck, a silent acknowledgement — Derek knows Stiles won't force him. It's okay.

"You always say 'hot werewolf boyfriend.' Not just 'hot boyfriend.' Why."

"Inflection, alpha, that's a thing." Derek pinches his thigh, and Stiles lets out a small sound at the sudden action, then grins. "You are a hot werewolf." He turns his head, pulls with his own free hand, his left hand, the one not trapped beneath Derek's on the mouse, and has Derek's head turn towards him. He kisses him, sure once, sure twice, and third time just because. Derek's eyes are intense on him as he pulls back. "I like all of you. I'd shout it out of the rooftops of all the buildings in the town if I was allowed to, Derek."

Derek smiles, and Stiles' heart beats triple time in his chest, which suddenly feels too small for everything Derek makes him feel.

They stare at one another for one more moment, and then they turn towards the screen, the cursor having moved on the screen, evidently because of their absent grip on the mouse. Derek takes his hand back and Stiles misses the warmth, but he dutifully leans forward to type in Derek's enquiry of the evening.

"Stiles, kiss me if I'm wrong, but Dinosaurs still exist, right?"

Stiles' hand spams on top of the keyboard.

He waits for the punchline to come.

When it doesn't, he gets up, turns, flails at his dork of a boyfriend, who is grinning at him, cocky and full of shit, and punches him in the chest.

"I take it back. I don't want anybody to know you belong to me. Fuck you, Derek Hale."

"Actually, I asked for a kiss, and only on the condition that I'm wrong."

"Oh, you're so, so wrong, you jerk, and you're gonna pay for it."

Stiles has now pulled the uno reverse card and boxed in Derek against his bed. Derek cocks his eyebrow at him. "Oh?"

"Yeah, oh. You're gonna kiss me, like, a 1000 times! That was the worst pick up line ever, what the fuck, who is teaching you these things?!"

Stiles pushes Derek onto his bed and starts peppering kisses on Derek's forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his chin, and of course, his lips. After a while, Derek flips them over, and they cuddle, and then they lazily make-out until their lips are swollen and red.

Derek is asleep after that, and thank god for his dad's out of town police conference, and Stiles falls asleep, too.

And that's how Stiles completely forgets about his presentation due on Monday, which is a day after.

(Derek helps him with it, and they spend the whole of Sunday making out, cuddling, and trying to out-do each other with worse and worse pick-up lines. Derek wins, because apparently he is the king of those, and Stiles just falls in deeper, his chest feels even smaller, and his feelings for Derek just seem like something he can't possibly have, too precious and important and so, so much).

[jjtheresidentbaby]

HIIIII its @bebbie-bilinski and as mentioned heres the request! sorry i just copy pasted it from our messages lol

ok u know how at first babies r insatiable and wanna be fed every like 2 hours? well that concept but regressed!stiles and cg!derek. BUT!! BUTT!! 1) he did not plan on regressing at all that night and 2) it was a pack night at the loft with the pack so they also have to witness/help out with it (i hc that werewolves need less sleep so they arent too grumpy about it) and 3) stiles is very guilty about it and tries so hard not to bother anyone but got damn it hes grumpy and wants a bottle every 2 seconds lol…ok das it *looks at u with big ol wet pathetic eyes*

also to add to that, maybe at first he doesnt realize -what- he wants he just knows he wants something anyways go crazy

˚. ❝₊˚ insatiable ❞ ˚₊·

» stiles stilinski x derek hale, stiles & the pack

» on my ao3 | word count: 866 | rated: teen & up

» warnings: everyone lives, no one dies!, swearing, guilt, bottle feeding

The loft buzzes with voices and a low thrum of music coming from Erica’s speakers she has set up near the end of the couch- an unnecessary touch of pack night but one that’s quickly become a favorite of everyone attending- and Stiles can’t sit still. It’s not the amount of people surrounding him or even the annoyingly loud laughter Peter’s letting out with Isaac following suit, really that doesn’t bother him that much, he’s just… so hungry.

It’s odd for him to ever be hungry like this. They’ve already cleared five boxes of pizza between the entire pack, werewolves truly know no ends when it comes to hunger. The last thing on Stiles’ mind should be food, he should be engaged in the conversation at hand, at the plan of taking down rouge hunters a couple towns over that Allison heard about from Chris. It’s a much more important matter than whatever Stiles is dealing with right now.

Still, even with his attempts at rationalizing his way out of this feeling, he’s annoyed. He’s hungry and annoyed and goddamnit why isn’t anyone picking up on this? Don’t werewolves have heightened senses? Can’t they tell he’s being deprived of food?

“Stiles? You good?” Erica asks, raising a suspicious brow with her head cocked to the side. He opens his mouth to reply that- no, he is not good- but all that comes out is a garbled mess of attempts at words.

It hits him then- he’s regressed. That’s why he’s so hungry, so upset about nobody swooping in to tend to his needs right this second, and can’t talk properly. A sudden wave of guilt washes over him with the realization.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. His regression has been something he pointedly plans out and keeps on a strict schedule so that it doesn’t interfere with anything to do with the pack, sure they all know he’s a little, but only Derek, Scott and Peter ever get to see his little side. There’s higher stakes when it comes to the other members of the pack- he needs them to trust him, to see him as strong, dependable, not a little kid who needs someone to get him a packet of apple sauce or else he’ll throw a hissy fit. (He won’t do that, he tells himself, but deep down knows that he’s about an hour without food away from it)

All the heads in the room turn to Stiles at his random-noises-trying-to-pass-as-words and Stiles knows that there’s no way he’ll be able to make a run for it now. He sits and watches all their werewolf noses twitch in the air, sans Allison who just stares knowingly; and searches for that signature ‘regression scent’ as Derek and Scott put it. They find it, Stiles knew they would, yet he gets the sudden urge to curl up in a ball and never let anyone look at him again.

“Hey bud, you feeling small?” Derek’s hand is big and familiar on Stiles’ cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles against the burning red skin as Stiles blushes in embarrassment and ducks his eyes away. His stomach growls and brings him back to the real issue at hand, he’s still hungry.

“Want another piece of pizza?” Boyd smiles softly as he speaks, he’s standing by the last box of pizza that has maybe three slices left. Stiles isn’t sure how to communicate that he isn’t feeling big enough for pizza, or any solid foods, he wants a bottle. It’s the only thing he’d be able to manage right now.

“Or some cheesy bread? I can heat it back up.” Allison suggests, Stiles blinks in surprise that she’s actually offering her cheesy bread that is solely bought for her and nobody else- the pack has already devoured their own box of it.

“I can smell that you’re hungry, what do you want?” Derek moves his hand to brush through Stiles’ hair and a very ill-directed spike of frustration flares in Stiles’ chest at Derek. He can’t get the words out properly, he just wants a bottle, he’s so hungry and feels like he could burst into sobs any second, and- and Derek should know. Stiles needs Derek to know what he wants without him having to say it.

“Here, give him this.” Scott passes a heated bottle over to Peter who hands it to Derek. And Stiles has never loved his best friend more than this moment, Scott’s too busy blowing loose formula powder onto Erica and Isaac to see Stiles gratefully smile at him- he makes a mental note to say something when he’s big enough to have an actual conversation again.

“McCall always knows.” Derek mumbles and sits in the corner of the couch next to Stiles, readily opening his arms so Stiles can curl up against his chest and greedily take the bottle between his lips.

It’s pure bliss the second he starts to drink it down. He hears Derek mutter to Peter to make another one because he’s drinking this one much faster than he normally does but Stiles doesn’t care, he’s just happy he doesn’t have to wail on the floor to get what he wants.

[wolfboy88]

For @thiamappreciationweek Day 5: The Pack

Scott stumbles upon Liam and Theo in a moment of intense passion. Their focus solely on each other, completely oblivious to Scott's presence and everything around them. Their mouths kiss with such hunger and fervour, an intensity that has Scott feeling dizzy.

Liam and Theo's kisses are ravenous, fangs and teeth clashing, growls and snarls escaping their mouths as the scent of coppery metallic fills Scott’s nostrils. It’s a primal display, so animalistic that stirs Scott's inner wolf. Scott takes a step back, retreating into the doorway and hiding behind the wall, ensuring that neither of them sensed his presence but he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. He cautiously peers around the wall, his gaze fixated on them with hard, dark eyes, irises flaring red.

Liam and Theo are thoroughly entangled on the couch in Derek's loft, which Theo now calls home. Scott was aware of this, as Derek had informed him and of his beta’s rather frequent visits that it appears he lives there too. However, Derek failed to mention that his beta and the chimera are… more than just friends.

Scott's eyes meticulously observed every movement of their taloned tipped fingers, clawing at each other's bodies. He swallows thickly, fighting the urge to tear them apart. He isn’t sure if he wants to stop them or join them or be one of them. His mind is conflicted with a jumble of varying emotions, but envy burns hot in his gut, a familiar sensation he experiences whenever he catches the two having those silent conversations with their eyes. The looks, the touches, the undeniable chemistry, the blatant flirting - Scott longs for that type of connection but watching them together, so intimately connected, as if they are trying to merge into one another's very being, he detests it and he’s sure if Stiles was here, he too, would encourage those thoughts.

And yet... he can’t tear his gaze away from them as he continues to leer, unable to resist watching.

His attention is captivated as Liam's clawed fingertips slip under Theo's shirt. Their tongues dance and explore each other's mouths as if duelling with fervour, things escalating and becoming even more heated.

Scott loves his beta, perhaps more than he initially realized. It’s probably got something to do with the strong alpha-beta bond between them, making him acutely aware of Liam's heady desires for the chimera. Or perhaps, on a deeper level, it’s rooted in wariness that his beta is the one who has captured the attention of the wayward chimera. Regardless, a part of Scott will always resent Theo for taking Liam away from him.

Torn shirts fall to the floor, their claws roaming over delicate flesh, kisses growing deeper, wetter, and more explicit as if trying to lick and scent the insides of each other’s mouth.

Scott can hear their heavy gasps of pleasure as they grind against each other. His own cock stirs, causing his bulge to twitch uncomfortably in its confines. He clenches his fists tightly, his claws piercing his palms.

Liam's hands disappear into Theo's jeans, eliciting a lustful moan from the chimera, lips spilling the beta's name like a sweet melody. Liam growls, his fangs grazing Theo's pulse point and piercing into flesh.

Theo's eyes flicker towards the doorway, a smirk playing on his lips as he rolls his hips, provoking a feral growl from Liam, hands gripping him firmly.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Scott emits a low growl that reverberates through his body and echoes in the back of his throat. He swiftly grabs his jacket and forces himself to leave, despite the alpha wolf inside him yearning to stay to do what Scott’s not entirely sure.

Theo cups the back of Liam’s head, encouraging the beta to bite him again. He may not have succeeded in overtaking Scott's pack, but he has achieved the next best thing - possessing Scott's most cherished possession: his first bitten beta.

And Theo will never let Scott forget it.

[homemadesterekpie]

Hi! Since you love Bottom!Stiles being obliterated by alpha cock just like me ;) can you please help me find a fic that shows exactly that? I believe it was called “so it will take” on ao3 and it’s basically Derek and Peter breeding Stiles all night, in a very delicious way. It’s more of a ficlet, actually. I can’t find it anywhere!

Thanks for your help!

…why does it sound familiar even tho i know for a fact i’ve never read that lmfao but babe i doubt i could find it if you can’t find it yourself tbh.

also i haven’t liked nor read Steter in ages (dont come for me yall some of the weird angsty fics of Stiles getting back at Derek were fun to read sometimes lmfao)

but maybe someone will find it and will drop a link in the notes, so keep checking from time to time 💜

[christinesficrecs]

Hi, Chris. I really appreciate your work. I was wondering if you know fics where Derek or Stiles got glasses and that do something for the other. Thanks in advance.

Derek wears glasses in these fics and there is a post here for Stiles wearing glasses.

Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MereLoup | 14.4K

Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work.

Partly because their visit was a complete surprise.

But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend.

Or even know who Derek was.

But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

Over the Threshold by alisvolatpropiis | 5.8K | Explicit

This is the last time,” Stiles declares, just before he attacks Derek's mouth with his, the kiss fevered and desperate, his long fingers jabbing roughly into Derek’s abs as he tangles them in his shirt. He pulls him close and walks them away from the front door, and in his hurried clumsiness, Stiles’ nose smashes Derek’s glasses into his face, hard enough that they smudge against his eyelids. It should be annoying, but like everything else about Stiles that should be infuriating, Derek can only find it hopelessly endearing.

That’s the thing about love, he supposes, even a love he won't fully admit to himself, let alone to Stiles.

#librarynerd by yodasyoyo | 7.7K

In which Stiles follows Scott into his Spanish study group, takes one look at the hot nerd who runs it and then decides to stay... even though he doesn't actually speak Spanish.

Werewolf-Friendly by badwolfbadwolf | 27.2K | Explicit

Derek is a junior in college, never could get the hang of social interaction, and is, you know, a werewolf. A werewolf and a virgin. And it isn’t like anyone is banging down his door to hop on his werewolf dick, save for the few pervs who acted like he was some kind of exotic toy to be played with and experienced. So, when he sees Stiles' ad on Hot Men 4 Rent, Derek is... interested.

And who is he kidding, he’s read that bio every day since that sad evening with the chocolate chip cookies, and has every facet of it memorized.

Stiles, no last name. Eighteen. Student. Good conversationalist. Likes to crack jokes. Fan of junk food but enjoys running. Werewolf-friendly. Werewolf-friendly.

And there is his phone number and an email address. Plus all the moles.

Espionage Would Be Wasted On You by reptilianraven | 9.2K

The one where Derek is the tech guy and Stiles just likes to blow things up a lot. Together they fight crime or whatever.

First Date (Queer Your Coffee, Part Two) by alisvolatpropiis | 4.7K | Explicit

“Holy fuck,” Derek whispers when finally sees Stiles’ cock. It’s gorgeous, long and thick with a big head, which is pierced, the tip shiny and wet. He should have expected it really, the piercing, a prince albert he thinks it’s called, not sure because he’s never seen one, never knew how fucking hot it could be. There are two balls just like the ones in Stiles’ tongue, one nestled in his pretty little slit, the other tucked under the crown of his head, joined by a slightly curved bar under the skin. Derek swallows hard and his mouth fills with hot saliva, one hand going to his own cock, shoving his boxer briefs down his thighs in a rush. He wants to stroke himself, but the thought of that piercing on his tongue, against his throat, fuck, in his ass, has him dangerously close to coming untouched, so he grips the base hard instead, staving it off.

Stiles purrs. “See something you like, big guy?”

The One Where He Pitches And Catches by mikkimouse | 4.2K | Explicit

Derek entered the conference room, spotted the table with "M. P. Stilinski" on it, and stopped short.

Oh fuck.

It most definitely was not going to be fine.

Sitting on the other side of the table was the most attractive man Derek had ever seen, with whiskey-colored eyes and pale skin with dark moles speckled across his jawline, moles Derek was very familiar with because he'd spent two hours last night drunk out of his mind and licking them.

The Curly Fries Show with Stiles Stilinski by greenleaf | 15.6K

Five times Stiles hung out with his attractive, adorable, bashful, architect building-mate Derek Hale and one time he hung out with his attractive, adorable, bashful, architect building-mate, boyfriend Derek Hale.

the echoes of you in me by mrecookies | 3.2K | Explicit

"No one wants to see a pornstar with glasses on," Derek says finally, his tone clipped, but not angry. He relaxes a fraction, and takes a step towards Stiles.

Stiles laughs. (It clearly doesn't escape Derek that it's a nervous kind of laugh; Derek's eyes crinkle just that little bit.) "I would."

Of Glasses And Lacrosse Sticks by charlesdk | 6.8K

“Okay, how 'bout this? One date, just one date, and if you still don't believe I'm genuinely interested in you, then I'll leave you alone for good. How does that sound?”

Derek hesitated for another moment, before he sighed and said, ��Fine. One date.”

And also this

[samanthahirr]

First Line Game

first line game

Rules: List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends.

I was tagged by my darling @rinnielove.

~

Off the Books (James Bond/Q)

The guards shove him into the showroom, hard enough that the hobbling chains bruise his ankles as he stumbles.

Aftershave (Illya/Napoleon/Gaby)

“A canister and safety razor can be used anywhere, from a luxury hotel to the Ardennes trenches. Yours requires a power outlet with a compatible current. It’s hardly the same.”

Don’t You Shake Alone (Din/Luke)

The nightmares are new.

Darling, Let’s Make a Mess (Harry/Eggsy)

Eggsy loves Harry like this, gloriously thick cock sliding in and out of Eggsy’s arse, Harry so close to coming his eyes are glazed over.

Harry Hart and the Honey Pot: An Indiana Jones Adventure (Harry/Eggsy)

Valentine’s description of the target is very detailed: A Mayan mask in the shape of a jaguar, carved from jadeite, recently excavated at a dig 10 kilometers north of the town of Mérida on the Yucatán Peninsula, and scheduled for personal delivery by archaeologist Dr. Harry Hart to the British Museum in two days’ time.

Tied With a Red Ribbon (Stiles/Derek)

The station receptionist has been lingering in the coffee room for the past 10 minutes, staring through the glass wall to the bullpen with blatant fascination.

We Can Work from Home (Stiles/Derek)

If some families are tight-knit, Derek's family is a 10,000 thread-count snuggie.

Danger Shouldn't Smile the Way You Do (Stiles/Derek)

"Please tell me this is about a dead body."

During Business Hours: A Filthy Coffee Shop AU (Steve/Bucky)

The Starbucks manager's expression is a familiar blend of disinterest and pity, and Steve can almost mouth the words along with her as she says, "I'm sorry, but you're not the right fit for our assistant manager position.”

America’s (Daytime) Sweethearts (Steve/Bucky)

The producers have been putting Steve off for three years, too ratings-shy to risk a leading man's popularity on a major gay storyline.

~

The pattern I see in these 10 opening lines is kicking-off a story with an interpersonal conflict (someone being told ‘no’; an argument) or a sense of mystery (what is the receptionist staring at? is there a dead body? what’s fueling the nightmares?). My story plots are all built on interpersonal conflict—even if it’s just the push-and-pull of a PWP sex scene—and looking at these lines all together, I’d say I tend to start stories with that dynamic front and center. Neat!

Tagging Time! @wantonlywindswept @pterawaters @glorious-spoon @artemis69 @inell @slimysuckers @avocadomooon @lauramkaye

[snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales]

Blue Moon - Part 4

A/N: See masterlist for prompts used. (And the list of amazing people who have helped me with this.) I felt it necessary to say, remember, these are all following along with the episodes from 03x04 on till the end of 3A. Without *directly* inserting the reader into the plot line, but more an off screen role. (Aside from the beginning, where, obviously, Derek fought the Alpha’s while Cora watched from the sidelines.) And because of that, it’s more angst than I usually write. It was a very angsty season. And the prompts have inherent angst, but lots of fluff, and sass, so once we get out of the murkiness that is Jennifer Blake (can you tell I don’t like her? - which, kudos to the actress, who I think is beautiful and brilliant, for making me hate her so much. 😆) we can move on to that happy, feel good, Sourwolf love we all enjoy so much. But until then, I guess this counts as a slow burn of sorts?

I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.

Warnings: See Masterlist

Word count: 2,633

Xxx

The next day was lonely. Stiles would text you every now and then, but other than that it was a quiet day. No word about Derek from anyone other than Peter and Cora going to get his body and it not being there. And neither was Ennis’, who Derek had pulled down with him. You decided not to dwell on the many possible things that could mean. 

You drove in silence to all the places Stiles had mentioned the night before and spoke meekly at each one. You felt almost like you were floating through the day, going through the motions, but your mind was a million miles away. 

The meet ended up getting canceled due to weather, and they were all going to be stuck staying at some crappy motel that Stiles insisted was haunted through multiple texts with an excessive amount of emojis. You couldn’t get ahold of anyone else, which was kinda odd, but also not totally abnormal.

To top it all off, you needed something you left at the loft, so you told the Sheriff - who had taken the night off and ordered a pizza to stay in with you this evening, after finding out Stiles wasn’t coming right back - you would be back in a flash, you just had to “run home real quick”, careful not to mention the loft, to which he just chuckled and said something along the lines of, “Just make sure you run the speed limit.”

Sighing as you pulled into the loft parking lot, you glanced through the windshield up at the top floor where it sat. It was so ominous looking, bathed in moonlight, it almost gave a faint glow. Resting your forehead on the steering wheel, you took some deep breaths, panic rising as flashes of your tango with an Alpha came back rapidly. But instead of feeling like a badass, it made you hyperventilate. There was this gnawing feeling that it had been a one time thing, and that should you ever encounter them again you would be in so much trouble. 

Taking one last deep breath to steady your nerves, you stopped mid inhale, slightly cocking your head to the side, eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

Derek. 

You had caught Derek’s scent. Well, it’s his loft, you rationalized to yourself. But no. This was fresh. Less than a few hours old. Glancing back up at the loft one last time, you grabbed the handle and yanked your door open, mustering the courage you could find to climb up the winding staircase and see for yourself.

Taking them two at a time, you felt your courage build with each step and your hope that Derek was there along with it. As you stood in front of the loft door, your outstretched hand just shy of the handle and trembling, you took a tentative breath and knew Derek had been here very recently. That was the final push you needed to firmly grip the handle of the loft door, preparing to give it a hefty pull, but something made you stop short. 

A whisper. 

Just on the other side of the door, a woman's voice, then Derek’s. Surely your mind was playing tricks on you; you didn’t smell anyone else. You did pick up on something vaguely familiar, but couldn’t place it. The smell reminded you of school, and the crime scenes of the sacrifices you had been at, and lately, the loft. Unable to place the smell, you slowly slid the door open, stopping after only a few inches to peek in. 

What you saw made your heart speed up, as there Derek sat on the edge of his bed, covered in scratches and blood, but alive. He was alive. 

Your feet that had been glued to the floor suddenly felt like they were floating, the distance between him and you too much. You couldn’t contain the smile that brought to your lips, but it soon melted when another figure stepped into view in front of him. On instinct you had started to move forward, barely making it over the threshold before the other silhouette made you pull up short.

Jennifer. 

You covered your mouth to hold in whatever was about to come out, anger, disgust, pain, you didn��t know, they were all swirling in your gut at the sight. You fell to your knees, bracing yourself on the doorframe to try and stay just out of sight.

No, Derek hadn’t caught your scent yet, which is what you found the most strange, and worrisome, and only reinforced that she was doing something to his mind. 

You finally placed the smell as belonging to Miss Blake, but it was different from her scent she had all the other times you had seen her, and that somehow made it worse. It didn’t smell like emotions or anything, it smelled like an entirely different being. Barely even human.

This last thought made you knit your eyebrows in determination, about to rise to your feet, charge in there, and show the she devil a thing or two, but you only made it to one knee, still bent on the floor, before you froze, eyes wide, eyebrows practically in your hairline. What you saw could never be unseen. Like two dogs in heat, they were on one another as if space between them was too painful. Your grip on the door frame and the loft door handle almost broke them under the pressure. 

You felt sick. Physically sick to your stomach. Whether from the feeling of betrayal, knowing you were right that something was weird about this whole thing, the fact that they had been getting it on in front of you, or all of the above, you weren’t quite sure.

Sliding the door shut calmly, you tried to keep it together as you softly, but quickly, made it back down the stairs, into your car, and back to the Stilinski driveway, putting your car in park and shutting off the engine before you let yourself feel anything. 

You wanted to kick and scream and sob your eyes out because you knew she had been doing something to him, you knew something was wrong, but you didn’t go with your gut, and now here you were. In your car, alone. In front of the Stilinski house. Silent tears racing down your face at the feeling of betrayal, both from seeing them together tonight and at yourself for not doing something sooner. 

A tap on your window made you jump, and you saw the Sheriff trying to peek in. Opening your door, you hopped out, swiping rapidly at your tears, and plastering a smile on your face. “Sorry that took so long.”

He looked at you skeptically, waving it off. “Nah. The pizza just got here. You’re right on time.”

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he ushered you into the house, quietly closing the front door behind the both of you. He stayed silent until you were both in the living room. He had the remote in his hand about to press play on the movie, but it dipped once in hesitation before he sighed, and it fell along with his hand to the armrest beside him. Scrubbing his face for a moment with his free hand, he finally looked up at you. Opening his mouth once before snapping it shut, staring blankly in front of him as if the space held the right thing to say, he scratched his forehead with the remote, his face making the face you had come to learn and love earlier on from Stiles. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

You stopped trying to grab a slice of pizza from the box, clearing your throat and wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans before nodding gently, staring at the floor. “Yeah.” You looked up and met his gaze, seeing concern painting his features. “Yeah, I’m okay, Mr. Stilinski. Just boy trouble. Thanks for asking.” You smiled as best you could, and he seemed to do the same. 

“Well, we’ve known each other forever, sweetheart, and I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”

The smile on your face felt a little more genuine. “I know. Thank you.”

“No matter how uncomfortable it makes me,” he continued as if you hadn’t said anything. The words sounded pained and forced, his brows knit like he was eating a lemon, and you finally let out the full smile that had been trying break through, even laughing. 

His lips twitched up gently. “There she is.”

“I will. Thank you. But for both of our sakes-” you leaned in, placing a hand on his forearm- “I’ll probably just tell Stiles.”

“Oh, thank God.” He let out on a huff of air, making you laugh again. “Now. Let’s watch this movie.” He hit play, and you settled into the couch, letting the plot unfolding on the screen take you away, if only for a little while.

Xxx

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, waking you up with a start. 

The DVD menu played softly on a loop, the movie long over, and to your right the Sheriff was snoring with his head on the back of the couch. 

You tossed the blanket you had been using on top of him before leaving the room and checked your phone, only to see it was Stiles.

“Stiles?” You spoke quietly into the receiver, not wanting to wake the Sheriff. 

“Y/N? Why are you whispering?” Stiles sounded kind of stressed, just a little bit off. 

“Your dad took off work tonight and we had a pizza - yes, I let him have pizza, don’t you dare jump on my case and go on a tirade about how he needs a salad, let the man live, Stiles - and we watched a movie.”

“I was wondering why that soundtrack was playing on a loop in the background. He used a DVD, didn’t he? I taught him how to use streaming-”

“Stiles!” You cut off his tangent with a chuckle. “Why are you calling me so late. Or, is it early?” You checked your watch to find it was early morning, still dark outside. 

“Well, let’s just say tonight has been interesting, we are all alive, which is good, but sleeping on the bus-”

“The bus?”

“The bus. Our rooms weren’t safe, and I don’t mean because of roaches or mysterious stains, Y/N.” You grinned. “Although there was this one smell in my room that was rather suspect….”

Smell. Scent. Shit.

Screwing your eyes shut, palm on your forehead, you spoke quickly, “Stiles, don’t be angry with me.” Peeking your head into the other room to see the Sheriff still soundly asleep, you stepped onto the back porch and closed the door behind you, ignoring Stiles’ incessant questions as you did. 

“Stiles! Hush! I had to leave the room so your dad didn’t hear!” 

“Oh,” was all he said. You heard the squeak of the bus as he slumped back against it, obviously doing the same as you and trying to get a bit of privacy. 

Taking a deep breath, you told him everything you saw at the loft. 

The only thing he did was suck in a sharp breath, but was otherwise silent. Finally he said, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Yeah, thanks, whatever.” You cleared your throat, looking down at your feet before lifting your gaze to stare vacantly across the yard. “My main concern was that scent. It didn’t smell human, but not entirely not human.”

“Well, that’s terrifying,” Stiles said blandly, making your lips twitch up just slightly. You heard another voice on the other end, Scott, and Stiles mumbled something about speakerphone before the phone was jostled around a bit. You could hear a mumbled, “Well, no, you don’t need speakerphone because you’re a freak of nature, Scott, but I, a mere mortal, need the aid.” You chuckled and could hear Scott let out a groan and soft chuckle himself. 

“Y/N?” Finally Scott’s voice came through clearly.

“Yeah?” 

“First of all, thank you. For everything.” His voice sounded distant, and you sure as hell were going to interrogate them when they got back as to what the hell happened that night at the motel, but for now you just nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see you and rolled your eyes. 

“You’re welcome, Scott. The feeling’s mutual. Thanks for making it so easy.”

Stiles humphed. “I feel like that last part was directed at me.”

“But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A mumbled, “Thanks, I guess,” but you could hear his smile. 

“Y/N, the scent. The one you smelled at Derek’s loft.” Scott was back to business. “I think I smelled it here tonight.”

“Really? How is that-” You were cut off by Scott who was obviously talking to Stiles. 

“Right before we decided to stay in the bus, when Lydia saw something in the fire, after the explosion-”

"Okay, what the hell happened to you guys?!" you asked loudly, cutting them off. Grimacing, you quickly used your hearing to pick up on the Sheriff's continued snores, let out a sigh of relief, and lowered your voice. "I feel so left out."

“No, I’m glad you weren’t here,” Scott said. “Long story short, something went after a specific group of our friends, and when it finally showed its face,” you heard Lydia cut in from somewhere behind, “I’d barely call that a face,” and you didn’t know whether to laugh or be afraid. 

Scott continued pointedly, “When it showed its face, I got a whiff of something I can only describe how you described the smell at the loft. Not human. But also not… not…. human.”

A smacking sound could be heard, and you realized Stiles was patting Scott on the back while saying, “It’s okay, bud. It’s been a long day.”

“One question.” You took a deep breath, trying to decide on the winner of thousands that swam around your brain right now. “Why is Lydia there?”

“She came with Allison.”

“Why was Allison there, Stiles?”

“Uh-uh. You said one question.”

“This is still technically the same question since they apparently came together.”

“….Touché,” Stiles finally came back with, before sighing. “Look, I’ll tell you everything when we get back, okay? It’s been a hell of a day and I just want to sleep,” he continued in a mumble, “if I can ever sleep again after seeing what I’ve seen.” A brief pause. “You werewolves need to come with a disclaimer. ‘May cause sleep disturbances’.” 

You laughed loudly. “Okay, okay. I know I’m not going to get anywhere with you guys this tired. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” came a chorus of voices, and you felt relief wash over you at the sound of each one, knowing they were safe and sound. 

“Goodbye, Y/N.” Stiles’ voice came through by itself after some fumbling, probably taking you off speakerphone.

“Goodbye, Stiles. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay on the phone until you fall asleep? I mean, I am part of the reason, after all. I do come with a disclaimer.”

“I would absolutely love that, but I need to save my battery and I am in a bus surrounded by werewolves, whatever Lydia is, and a hunter. I think my security system is pretty good for tonight.”

You chuckled. “Okay then. Goodnight, Stiles.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Oh!”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for being there with my dad.”

“No problem, Stiles. You know he’s like family to me. He was there for me when I came back from the loft, said I could talk about it if I needed.”

“He offered to listen while you talked?!” He was almost yelling. 

You laughed again. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

He chuckled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Xxx

Tags: @mayahart02, @palaiasaurus64, @shydinosaurcandy, @lucyqueenofthestars, @c-breanne1999, @l4life, @ethereallysimple, @teenwolffan-with-nolife, @bellabadacadabra, @lilostif16, @wandas-love, @emily500, @babygirl-angel-love, @c-dizzle99 What’s This?

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 5: The Tell (Part Two)

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

P.S. Scott gets lost in la la land and Beacon Hills might have a mountain lion problem??

                                                    -------------------

I sighed into my locker and let my head drop against the cool metal. I forgot to do my calculus homework. Again. 

I couldn't blame myself too much. I was still shaken up by the events of last week, although I’d done my best to forget about it. No one had seen any signs of the alpha since the video store. Jackson was acting really strange, though. Most of the time I saw him he looked sick and jumpy. Something was just off. He did get closer to the alpha than me, so maybe he was just processing in his own way. 

Lydia had been weird right after, but she seemed to push whatever remaining fear she had into the back of her mind. The strangest part, though, was that both of them had told people the animal that attacked was a mountain lion.

“Oh, God.” I heard Allison grumble from beside me.

I glanced over to see a bunch of balloons floating out of her locker. She tried her best to push them back in, and looked around nervously. She pulled out a card and read it over quickly before turning to glare at me.

“Really?”

I just grinned back. Lydia somehow knew it was her birthday today, so we filled her locker with all her favorites. Plus the balloons to embarrass her just a little. A moment later, Scott walked up.

He inspected the scene and put the pieces together quickly. “Is it your birthday?”

“No. No. Nope. I mean...yes.” She shoved the remaining loose balloons back inside the metal cage and frowned. “Please don't tell anybody. I don't even know how they found out.”

I avoided her glare and shut my locker before crossing my arms and leaning against it. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” Scott sounded a little hurt.

“Because...” She hesitated, looking between us. “I’m seventeen.”

Oh. That was news to me. Scott blinked, shocked. 

“That’s exactly the reaction I’m trying to avoid.” She muttered, pulling a textbook out before slamming her locker with a slam.

“Hey, I totally get it. You had to repeat a year because of all the moving around. Right?” That would've been my guess, too. It was pretty obvious if you knew her at all. 

But she looked surprised by his answer. So surprised that she rushed forward and gave him a kiss. I looked away quickly, clearing my throat awkwardly. 

“What was that for?” Scott asked, and I figured it was safe to look again. 

“For being the first person ever, literally, to make the right assumption.” She grinned at him, and he returned the look with a awe-struck expression of his own.

They were really good together. A little too easily distracted, maybe, but it was clear that they were in love. I just wondered if they knew it yet. 

“I’ll catch you guys later.” She walked away with one final wave. 

I moved to head toward class, but Scott caught my arm gently. I turned and looked at him expectantly. 

“You okay?” His big brown eyes looked at me with concern and I sighed. He always tried to take care of everybody. He’d checked on me a million times since the video store attack, and I’d told him I was fine, but he was relentless. 

“Yes, Scott.” I confirmed with a roll of my eyes. “I was okay yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, too. You don't need to keep worrying about me.”

He didn't look convinced. “Just...if you need anything. I’m here. We both are. Me and Stiles, I mean. You can talk to us.”

I felt my face grow hot at the mention of his name. Things had been normal after our weird almost kiss. Utterly and completely normal. We hadn't talked about it since. We hadn't talked much at all, actually. Just typical school stuff. Not that I minded. 

“Thanks.” I gave him a genuine smile and turned to leave. 

I really needed to get to class. I was already falling behind, since my mind had been preoccupied lately. By the time I was done talking to Scott, the hallways were empty. I picked up the pace, hoping I could still make it before the late bell. I glanced down, and almost immediately slammed into someone’s back. 

I raised my head quickly, ready to apologize, but stopped when I saw who it was. I let out a huff, my shoulders tensing. Derek Hale was standing in front of me, looking threatening as ever. I hadn't seen him in nearly two weeks, and I preferred it that way. He gave me a serious case of the heebie-jeebies. 

“Why are you always here?” I found myself asking without thinking about the consequences. He was way too old to be in a high school. I was honestly surprised no one had ever called him out for hanging around here without actually being a student.

He took a step forward, and I took one back. His crystal blue eyes trailed over me from head to toe, and I shifted uncomfortably. “You don't need to be afraid.”

“Well, excuse me.” I scoffed. “The last time I saw you here, you tried kidnapping me.”

His head cocked to the side and his eyebrows rose in agreement. “True. But I’m not here for you.”

“Then why are you here?” I swallowed nervously. Trouble seemed to follow him wherever he went. Just his presence put me on edge.

He continued walking toward me, and I kept moving back until I ran into the lockers harshly. I gasped, surprised at the sudden contact, my breathing picking up with my rising anxiety.

He didn’t stop until he was only half a foot away. I watched him expectantly, waiting for him to grab me or rip my throat out or something. I hadn’t even been able to get away from him when he was almost dead, so I was very aware that my chances or survival if he wanted to hurt me were slim to none.

“If you ever want to learn some control, you know where to find me.” His eyes trailed over my face as he spoke. And then, he was gone.

I watched him walk away, more confused than ever. Control? Over what? I didn’t have much time to think about it, because Jackson came stumbling out of the boys locker room just in front of me. He looked sickly, his normally tanned skin white as paper, and he was sweating profusely.

He looked around nervously, itching at the back of his neck, before his eyes met mine.

“You okay?” I asked tentatively, not sure what was even wrong with him. Maybe he had the flu or something?

“Fine.” He muttered, his gaze flickering around the hallway almost obsessively.

He turned and stalked away from me with a shake of his head. That was odd. He’d been acting so weird ever since the video store. I watched his retreating back, then turned toward the direction Derek had gone. At once I realized that they had both come out of the locker room. So Derek was here...for Jackson?

My mind was swimming with possibilities as I finally made my way to class.

                                                   ————————

I walked through the school’s parking lot, trying to find Allison. I waited nearly ten minutes by our lockers but she never showed. I hadn’t seen her at lunch, either, come to think of it.

“Hey,” I jumped at the sudden presence beside me, but relaxed at the sight of familiar brown eyes. “I need you to do your witchy thing.”

I stopped and looked at Stiles with raised eyebrows. “My what?”

“Your thing.” He flailed his arms wildly, seemingly in a hurry.

“I don’t have a thing.” I said slowly, not sure what he was getting at.

“You have a thing.” He raised his eyebrows and huffed when I just stared at him. “Okay. Look. I haven’t been able to find Scott all day and his phone is going straight to voicemail. I just need you to tell me if he’s in trouble.”

I finally realized that he was talking about my visions and rolled my eyes before continuing on my way. “That is so not how it works.”

He let out a little ha and clapped his hands together with a jump. “So you admit you have a thing!”

“Can’t help you, Stiles.” I called over my shoulder and shook my head. I had no idea how my visions worked, but I knew I couldn’t just turn them on and off whenever I wanted. 

He let out an impatient groan and jogged up to my side again. “I’m worried, Y/N. Very worried.”

There was still no sign of Allison anywhere. I stopped again and turned all the way around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her car. It didn’t look like it was even in the parking lot.

“He’s probably with Allison.” I decided. “She’s been gone all day too.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing various options in his head. Then he reached out and wrapped a hand around my wrist gently. Before I could even fully process that he was touching me, I was being dragged through the parking lot. I nearly tripped over my own feet as I tried to keep up with his quick pace. I swear, he never slows down. 

“What are you doing?” I breathed, dodging a few people as he weaved us between parked cars. 

“You're helping me find him.” He announced, not even bothering to phrase it like a question. 

We arrived at his Jeep a moment later and he pulled open the passenger door before looking at me expectantly. I stood firmly in place. 

“I have homework.” It wasn't even a lie. I was behind in almost every class due to the whole almost being attacked by a murderous werewolf thing. 

“I’ll do it for you.” He offered quickly, gesturing for me to get into the car. 

I mean, that didn't sound half bad...

“Fine.” With a resigned huff I slid inside. Stiles shut the door quickly and jogged around the front to get into the driver’s seat. 

Within minutes the school was long behind us. I didn't know where he was going, but I figured he had some kind of plan. He always did. We hadn't spoken since he turned the car on, and I was beginning to feel a little awkward. Should we talk about it? We should talk about it. Right?

I opened my mouth to do just that, but instead a totally different stream of words came out. “Do you think it has anything to do with Derek?”

Stiles’ head turned in my direction so fast I was afraid he may have given himself whiplash. “Derek?”  

“Uh.” Yeah, that was so not the right thing to say. I wasn't even planning on telling him about our weird interaction this morning. Why brain? Why?

“Why would Scott be with him?” He pressed, still looking at me. 

“Can you focus on the road?” My voice rose with worry and his eyes twitched at me before he complied with pursed lips. “I may have seen him this morning, and the last time he was at the school he was looking for Scott, so—”

He slammed on the breaks so suddenly that I launched forward, my seatbelt barely saving me from faceplanting into the dash. 

“Y/N!” He snapped incredulously. “You have to tell me these things!”

“I just did.” I looked at him with wide eyes as I readjusted myself in my seat. My gaze moved behind us to make sure no one was coming. This was not the first time he’d abruptly stopped in the middle of the road, and it really wasn't helping with my theory that every time I was in this car my life was somehow in danger. 

He scoffed and made a U turn, taking us back in the direction we’d just come from. “Did he say anything to you? What was he doing?”

“I don't know.” I decided to gloss over the fact that he had indeed said something very weird to me. “I think he was talking to Jackson.”

“Jackson? Why would he be talking to Jackson?” He, thankfully, kept his eyes on the road, but I saw them twitch again. I noticed he did that a lot. I wasn't sure if it was an anxious tick, or it meant he was thinking, or what. It was just a Stiles thing. One of his mannerisms that made him all the more endearing. 

I shrugged. “Like anyone knows what goes through that guys head. Maybe he threatened him or something. Jackson came out of the locker room looking pretty shaken up.”

“No. No, that doesn’t make any sense.” He mumbled, more to himself than me.

A few minutes later, we were sitting outside mine and Scott’s houses. We’d already driven past Allison’s, all of them proving empty. Her car was nowhere to be seen. Stiles started the Jeep again, and we were on our way to Beacon Hills Preserve. He was persistent about checking the Hale house, despite my efforts to convince him how utterly stupid that idea was.

Nothing good had ever happened there. I had no desire to go back, but I’d found out over the last few weeks that he could be even more stubborn than me—something I didn’t think was possible—so I didn’t push too hard. I knew it was a losing fight.

He slowed down at the entrance of the preserve when we stumbled upon Allison’s car parked next to a trailhead. I found myself chewing on my bottom lip, growing nervous. Stiles looked at me with raised eyebrows, and I frowned.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe they went on a hike.”

He scoffed and continued driving as far as the Jeep would go. When Derek’s withered house came into view, we stopped.

“Do you always spy on your friends?” I tried to get comfortable in my seat, assuming we’d be here for awhile.

He shrugged from beside me. “Only with probable cause.”

Not more than thirty seconds later, we saw a woman who I recognized as Kate Argent approaching with two men flanked at her sides.

Stiles completely spazzed out and ducked down in his seat. “Who the hell are they?”

Each of the men were carrying large guns, and Kate had one strapped across her chest. They easily let themselves right in. I mean, there wasn’t much stopping them. There were more holes than not in that thing. You could barely even call it a house anymore.

“I know one of them is Allison’s aunt.” I breathed, not feeling any better now that they were out of sight.

“That’s bad. Very very bad.” His eyes practically bulged out of his head and his chest was rising and falling erratically as he started panicking. He moved to get out of the car and I jerked forward to grab his arm.

“What the hell are you doing? Do you have a freaking death wish?” For some reason, I was whispering. It just felt like we were going to be caught any second.

Then, the unmistakable sounds of struggling and gunshots echoed through the woods.

“Those are hunters, Y/N! Scott could be in there.” Stiles started pulling against me again, but I only tightened my grip.

“And we’re human. What are either of us going to do?”

He stopped struggling for a moment and glanced toward the back of the car. “I have a bat.”

More groans and shouts came from the house. Both of our heads whipped in that direction at the sound. I leaned forward in my seat, trying to get a better view, but it was too dark inside to see anything. Plus, the sun was going down, which didn’t help.

Suddenly, Derek came barreling out the front door at top speed. He was shirtless, for some reason, and looked really shaken up. He didn’t even glance in our direction as he sprinted through the trees. Stiles and I watched him pass by in stunned silence.

A few seconds later, Kate and the two men exited as well. Stiles ducked down beside me again, but I was too curious to move. What were they even doing? It didn’t look like any of them were hurt despite the gunshots and yelling.

My heart dropped into my stomach as they started walking our way.

“We need to go.” I breathed, tapping him on the arm quickly.

“It’s fine, you can’t see anything down here.” He shook his head, seemingly confident in the anatomy of his Jeep.

I looked at him with narrowed eyes. “They can still see the car, Stiles!”

His face dropped in realization and he sprang back upright. After fumbling with the keys for a few seconds, we were fleeing the scene quickly. I watched them the whole way and, thankfully, it didn’t look like they’d spotted us.

We’d barely gotten out of the preserve when Stiles’ phone chimed in his pocket. He rushed to pull it free, swerving into the wrong lane due to his frenzied state. I braced my hands against the dashboard and gave him an incredulous look as he checked the notification.

“God, Scott. Finally.” He breathed a sigh of relief, but his face quickly changed as he read the message.

“What is it?” My stomach tightened uncomfortably with anxiety. That look couldn’t be good.

“Allison’s dad shot an animal at the school.” He shoved the phone back into his pocket.

“Okay?” I was so beyond confused. Why was this a big deal? “What animal?”

He glanced my way briefly, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “A mountain lion.” 

Episode 5, Part One            Episode 6

[theofficialstereklibrary]

Happy Holidays from the Library! (and Jeep)

Hello friends! Thank you for the love and support and concern you have shown me. My personal blog got a bunch of dm’s and asks telling me about how happy they were that I was putting in the effort to fix the tags and keep the Library going and it’s been a wonderful gift to me. 

But today is Christmas Eve and I didn’t want you to head off to your family’s without a little gift from me! 

This post is going to be a list of my favorite Christmas fics, all true recommendations and not just an update on the latest fics like usual. These are all fics that made me laugh, cry and just truly enjoy the holiday season. You might recognize a few so be sure to tell me the ones you love as well! 

This is gonna be quite the list, and I try not to be a total ass, so the fics are under the break :) - Jeep

In no particular order, Jeep’s Sterek Holiday Favorites -

When You Stop Believing in Santa You Get Underwear by owlpostagain (7,817 | 1/1 | T)

There are some salvageable things though. A virtually untouched heavy slate sign that says, engraved in an ornate script that confirms at least one person in the Hale family had a sense of humor (Stiles has a horrible suspicion it might have been Peter), When You Stop Believing in Santa You Get Underwear.

The Natural Binding Properties of Pine Sap by uraneia (4,296 | 1/1 | T)

Derek saves a nymph from being somebody's Christmas decoration. As a reward, the nymph grants him a twig of mistletoe.

If Derek had known the mistletoe would come to life and goad him into kissing people at random, he might have tried to refuse.

I Just Want You For My Own (More Than You Could Ever Know) by yodasyoyo (16,062 | 4/4 | T)

“What is with that sweater, dude?”

Derek ducks his head to look at it, abashed. “Uh- Mrs Hernandez knitted it for me. It’s an early Christmas gift.” He smooths it down self-consciously.

Stiles cocks an eyebrow.

“What? She’s my neighbor and sometimes I-” Derek trails off. Stiles’ other eyebrow rises to join the first, and Derek sighs. “Sometimes I help her carry her groceries."

Of course he does. One day maybe Stiles will stop being in love with Derek Hale, but today is not that day.

A Hale for the Holidays by rlnerdgirl (38,095 | 1/1 | E)

“I sent you a Christmas card that got sent back to me. Did you get a new apartment?” his dad wonders. The question is all suspicion and little anything else.

A flicker of an idea sparks. It’s not nearly formed well enough for him to say, “Yeah, actually,” and when he follows that with, “I moved in with someone,” he wants to punch himself in the face. He’s living with someone?!

“You’re living with someone?” It’s the same voice and tone as the one in Stiles’ head, just thirty years older.

Two things keep Stiles from bashing his face onto the table: there’s a steaming cup of coffee in the way and, more importantly, his dad will definitely hear. Someone passes by in front of him and a semi-familiar book cover catches his eye. “Derek Hale,” he muses, and stops. No. That wasn’t meant to be out loud.

Gingerbread by slythatheart (16,572 | 1/1 | T)

Stiles is offered a Christmas wish, and there's only one thing he can think of to wish for.

A Christmas Hale by Captain_Loki (14,298 | 1/1 | M)

His mouth began forming the word 'no' in a knee jerk reaction, but it died on his lips when he actually looked at Stiles. There was no pity in his face, no sense of moral obligation or charitable intent, he looked...earnest and nervous and so much the sixteen that he was. He realized with a jolt that had his stomach twisting into something that felt nothing like anger that Stiles wasn't asking for Derek's sake. 

sometimes fate is like a small snowstorm by thepsychicclam (8,145 | 1/1 | M)

In a coffee shop two days before Christmas, Derek meets Stiles. Despite neither of them being interested in relationships, they spend an unforgettable evening together, but then part ways. During the following years, Stiles competes in the Olympics, Derek tours the world - and neither of them forget. Then twelve years later, two days before Christmas, Derek finds Stiles in that same coffee shop.

With A Little Christmas Magic by Ashabadash (10,669 | 1/1 | T)

AU: Stiles is jobless this Christmas and as a last resort, is stuck playing one of Santa’s elves at the mall. The job is a bust, and Stiles isn’t really in the Christmas mood, until he finds salvation in the Starbucks at the food court, not only in hiding from kids, but in one very sexy barista named Derek.

Real life isn't a movie (life doesn't make narrative sense) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) (11,586 | 1/1 |T)

Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.

All The Way Home (I'll Be Warm) by GotTheSilver (11,535 | 1/1 | M)

Stiles is standing there, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, and Derek doesn’t want to see him disappear into the apartment opposite without a promise to see him again. “Do you—would you like something to drink? Coffee?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Rubbing his hands together, Stiles nods and looks over his shoulder. “Can you give me a minute to get changed? I’ve got snow melting in places that I don’t want it to be melting.”

Derek laughs at the look on Stiles’ face and nods. “Knock when you’re done.”

If Derek watches Stiles until the door closes, that’s no one’s business but his own.

Jingle Grouch by aggybird (3,262 | 1/1 | G)

Derek the Grinch has a crush on Stiles the Snow Elf.

All I Want for Christmas (Is You) by blindinglights (9,284 | 1/1 | E)

Derek meets Stiles in a department store while shopping for his family, after seeing a little girl crying for her Dad on the floor. They part ways and Derek doesn’t think he’ll see Stiles again. Beacon Hills may not be that big, but it still doesn’t mean he’ll ever run into Stiles, because that’s just not how Derek’s life works. Despite what Erica tries to tell him whenever she can, that sometimes fate can happen, Christmas miracles, whatever, it won’t.

Home for Christmas by mikkimouse (6,613 | 1/1 | T)

"Derek," Dad said with a warm smile. "Glad you could make it."

Derek nodded seriously. "Of course, Sheriff."

Stiles felt the pieces slot together in his head. "Wait, you called him?"

"Technically, Melissa called him," Dad said.

"Ha ha. What's he doing here?" Stiles turned to Derek. "Seriously, what are you doing here?"

Derek held up his keys. "I'm here to take you home."

how you doin’? by decideophobia (6,768 | 1/1 | T)

“So,” Derek says eventually, because he feels awkward and uncomfortable, “how you doin’?”

Mistletoe's Overrated Anyway by stilinski (8,263 | 1/1 | T)

Derek remembers a hyperactive eleven year old with a buzzcut and an irritating habit of getting underfoot - his memory doesn’t lend to the lean, doe eyed brunet in his hallway; he’s talking on his phone and scowling something fierce but Derek’s mouth goes dry at the way Stiles runs long fingers through his hair.

“Coffee?” Derek asks abruptly, turning to look at Laura. “There’s a fresh pot. Cora’s gone out on a last minute supply run - is, uh, Stiles staying?”

“I offered your wonderful hospitality until he can find a flight to take him home,” Laura says, following him back into the kitchen and leaving Stiles in the hall. “I know you have the space, and it seemed a shame to leave him stranded. Nobody should be alone on Christmas.”

lube and determination by bleep0bleep (4,873 | 1/1 | E)

It's a holiday classic: homesick boy wants to make a pumpkin pie while studying abroad, boy realizes the only place to find vegetable shortening is a sex shop, and boy makes fool of himself in front of other boy.

Last Christmas (I gave you my heart) by jadore_hale (4,532 | 1/1 | T)

“W-what is this?” Derek couldn’t even begin to get his mind around this current situation.

“My Christmas gift to you, nephew.”

Peter pushed the guy towards him, and Derek hastened to catch him before he fell face first on the floor.

“I’d like you to meet your soul mate.”

Don't Call Me Buttercup by ElloPoppet (15,830 | 1/1 | T)

Isaac wants to do Secret Santa. Derek is bad at gifts. Stiles helps, and also practices making Derek uncomfortable with awful, cutesy pet names along the way.

Derek secretly loves the pet names. Oh, and he loves Stiles as well.

Well, I hope you guys enjoy some of my all time favorite holiday fics and that maybe you find a new favorite of your own! Thank you for your love and patience while I try to figure everything out with the tags. You guys are truly the best and I wouldn’t be here without you. 

I wish you the best for this hectic time of year and that maybe these fics can keep you occupied from crazy family members. 

Happy Holidays and best wishes for the new year,

Jeep

[sugarandspace]

Mood lighting (Sterek)

(posted on AO3 under the pseud aconitum)

Summary: Stiles plans a romantic evening for the two of them. It doesn't go exactly as planned.

Word count: 2,093

Warnings: vague mentions of the Hale fire

Read on AO3

Derek opens the door to his apartment and realises immediately that Stiles is already there.

There are several things that prove it. Stiles’ shoes are by the door and his duffel bag and backpack are dumped right next to them, no doubt full of laundry Stiles has been too busy to do at the college. Derek can also pick up a scent that’s so uniquely Stiles, and he can hear noises from the kitchen.

Derek is pretty sure Stiles hasn’t realised that he’s arrived, or else he would have his arms full of the man already. Out of the two of them, Stiles is definitely the one who struggles with the long-distance aspect of their relationship more or at least is the one who more openly shows it. Derek tries his best to visit Stiles at the college every now and then, but it being his last year there Stiles is usually spending the weekends studying. The longer weekends when it makes sense to drive back to Beacon Hills he spends almost entirely with Derek, which had led to Derek giving him the key to his apartment a few months back. Derek has to admit, he loves to come home to someone he loves, to the smell of food, and to a brightly lit apartment.

Only this time, the lights are off.

It definitely strikes as odd. Stiles has a habit of leaving all the lights on and normally Derek would be able to follow the trail of lights and find where in the apartment Stiles was, but all he can now see is the dim lighting in the part of the living room he can see from the short hallway he’s currently in.

He takes off his coat and shoes and walks further into the apartment, and is surprised to see the candles lighting the living room. There must be over ten of them, tea lights and bigger candles placed around the room in a way that gives a soft, even lighting to the whole room. The sight of them makes his heartbeat pick up slightly and he can feel anxiety settle low in his gut.

Derek doesn’t have time to think about them more before he’s spotted by Stiles. He’s in the kitchen, the open plan of the living room/ kitchen area providing Derek the perfect view of the pots and pans on the stove.

And the perfect view of his boyfriend, who smiles widely as he turns away from the stove and sees Derek.

“Derek!”

Derek doesn't have time to do anything else except open his arms before he’s being squeezed to death by a tight hug which he returns just as tightly.

“I missed you,” Derek says against Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles smells like chicken and curry and under it all like himself and Derek has missed that scent so much. It’s been a couple of weeks since Stiles last came home for a weekend and his scent had almost worn off from the apartment.

“I missed you too,” Stiles replies. He pulls away from the hug only to get closer again, this time connecting their lips in a soft kiss that doesn’t stay like that for long. They both get lost in it and it’s only the smell of food that reminds Derek that this was supposed to just be a kiss hello.

“Stiles,” he says and pulls away a little, only for Stiles to follow his lips.

“Hmm?”

“The food,” Derek tries again but doesn’t protest when Stiles comes in for another kiss.

“Who needs food when I have you,” Stiles says and finally pulls back to look Derek up and down slowly and in a way one could describe as exaggerated if they didn’t know how open Stiles can be about things like this. His tone turns dreamy when he pats Derek’s chest and continues, “You’re not only a snack, you’re a whole meal.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Derek says and he can see that Stiles is about to explain, so he rushes out, “And I don’t want to know. I’m hungry and I’m sure you are too. Let’s have dinner and then later we can see who's eating who.”

Stiles’ eyes widen in surprise and Derek uses the moment of distraction to step away from his boyfriend and head to the kitchen. Stiles follows close behind and blocks Derek’s way to the stove.

“It’s almost finished,” he says as he stirs the pot that smells like curry. “Can you find the plates? I was thinking we could eat in the living room?”

Derek nods and goes to the cabinet that holds the plates. He takes out two and finds them both utensils before filling a pitcher with water and bringing it to the coffee table along with two glasses. He stops and looks at the candles, feeling uneasiness rise again.

He tells himself it’s stupid and he has to get over it. He doesn’t want to ruin the night Stiles has so nicely planned for them. Plenty of people burn candles and nothing bad happens. It’s fine.

Derek is pulled from his thoughts by Stiles’ voice.

“It’s ready!”

Derek tears his eyes away from the candle in the middle of the table and goes back to the kitchen where Stiles has already plated their food.

“It smells amazing,” Derek says honestly and kisses Stiles’ cheek. Derek had been surprised at first when he learned that Stiles knows how to cook not only decent meals but ones that taste really good. It had made sense after Stiles had explained that his father wasn’t the best cook nor did he have time to cook often and that Stiles had learned to cook to make sure his father would be eating healthy meals instead of ones that are fresh from the freezer.

“Thank you,” Stiles replies and they take their plates to the living room where they sit on the couch and eat while Stiles tells him about things that had happened in college and Derek fills him in on things that have happened in Beacon Hills while he’s been gone. It’s almost enough to distract him from the candles, but the uncomfortable feeling stays steady in the background.

After they finish eating, Stiles puts on a movie and curls up against Derek on the couch. Derek ends up reclining in the corner of the couch while Stiles is practically laying on top of him, his legs between Derek’s and his head on Derek’s chest.

Derek finds it difficult to focus on the movie or relax, even when the position they are in is usually one that brings him so much peace. His eyes drift from candle to candle and his brain keeps coming up with scenarios of how one of them could fall or how the one on the windowsill could make the curtains set aflame, even when they are a couple of feet away from the candle that’s safely placed in the middle of the windowsill.

He knows his thoughts aren’t rational, but fear so rarely is.

“What’s going on?” Stiles asks, and when Derek looks at him he sees that Stiles’ attention is now on him rather than the movie that he has now paused, and he’s propped up on his elbows against Derek’s chest in a way that gives Derek close to no way to escape his searching eyes.

“What do you mean?” Derek asks, and it’s more to buy himself more time than it is to fool his boyfriend. Stiles is way too observant to buy his act.

“You are tense and your heart is beating kind of fast,” Stiles says in a gentle tone as he keeps looking at Derek with slightly furrowed brows.

“I’m sorry,” Derek says. They were supposed to have a good evening and now he’s made Stiles worry, and the fear is paired with disappointment. Disappointment at himself, for letting something as small as candles affect him so much.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Stiles says. He leans up a little to place a soft kiss on Derek’s forehead and Derek feels his face relax from the frown it had fallen into. “Tell me what I can do to help?”

“It’s stupid,” Derek says, hoping that Stiles will let it go and they can go back to watching the movie. Maybe he just needs time and he’ll be able to get over it.

“I want to know,” Stiles assures him. “If you want to tell me.”

Stiles knows him so well, and Derek appreciates the out he’s offering. It’s been difficult for Derek to open up, to let Stiles in. But this is the first relationship in a really long while when Derek has wanted to try.

“It’s the candles,” he says eventually, feeling like the admission is bigger than it probably is in reality.

“The candles?” Stiles asks, cocking his head to the side a little in confusion.

“I don’t like-” Derek starts before the words get stuck in his throat. But he’s gotten this far and he wants to tell Stiles. He knows Stiles won’t judge him. “I don’t like having fire in the apartment.”

Stiles gasps quietly when he realises what Derek means. Derek can hear his heart picking up before he scrambles up from the couch and walks around the room, blowing all the candles out as he does. Derek closes his eyes and listens to the sound of Stiles' footsteps and the small click of the lamp on the side table as Stiles turns it on.

Soon he can feel a familiar weight settle against him again and he opens his eyes to look at Stiles in the soft glow of the lamp.

Derek feels sick, and he honestly can’t tell if it’s from the smell of blown-out candles or the look of worry and guilt on Stiles’ face.

“I’m so sorry,” Stiles says sincerely. “I didn’t think.”

“Not your fault,” Derek says immediately. He doesn’t want Stiles to feel bad about this, he was simply trying to plan a romantic evening for them. It’s Derek who has stupid associations with something as normal as candles and he tells Stiles as much. “You couldn’t have known.”

“But I could have guessed,” Stiles says as he worms his arms around Derek’s torso and hugs him tight, his whole weight pressing Derek to the couch in the most grounding way possible. Stiles’ head is at the crook of his neck and when Derek turns his head a little, he can bury his nose into Stiles’ hair and the smell of shampoo and Stiles drowns out the smell of smoke.

Derek can feel himself relax under the familiar weight, his body enveloped in Stiles’ embrace, and his heart overflowing with love for his boyfriend. While a part of Derek feels bad that the evening turned out very different from what Stiles had probably planned, he also feels so very loved by how easily Stiles accepted what Derek told him. He didn’t stop to ask more, he simply got up and blew the candles out.

Someone could argue that it’s the decent thing to do and there’s no real need for Derek to feel grateful, but he doesn’t have the best history when it comes to relationships.

“What do you want to do?” Stiles asks, but he doesn’t move from his place on top of Derek.

“Can we stay like this for a moment?” Derek asks. He feels calmer but some uneasiness still remains and he doesn’t want to move yet. Doesn’t want to let go of Stiles.

“Of course,” Stiles says. “I have to warn you though. I might fall asleep.”

“I don’t mind,” Derek replies and starts moving his hands up and down Stiles’ back. He realises that it’s been a long day for Stiles, with the college classes he had early in the morning and the drive he had to make to Beacon Hills. Normally he wouldn’t be able to stay still for long, eventually his hands would start to wander or he’d start squirming around, but now he stays still and Derek listens to his heart slowing down, noticing his own doing the same.

He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch over them when Stiles falls asleep and it doesn’t take long until he follows.

The next time Stiles cooks them a romantic dinner the living room is lit up with fairy lights instead of candles and upon noticing them Derek hugs him tight, hoping it conveys the love and gratitude he feels for Stiles’ easy understanding.

[clotpolesonly]

Now The Wheel Has Turned Around

i decided to torture myself with trying to get a 2nd fic written for @laurahale-appreciation week day 1, which i am not thanking myself for now that it’s 1:30am and i have to be at work in 7 hours, lmao. but i got it done!!

| Teen | 1.4k | Alpha Laura | Alpha Peter | Canon Rewrite | Angst |

(also on AO3)

---

“Yeah, well, he’s not here either.”

At Stiles’ words, Derek goes completely still. Laura does too, a visceral sense of dread crawling down her spine before her thoughts can even catch up.

“What?” Derek asks. Maybe he shouldn’t have bothered, but Laura understands the need to clarify. To make absolutely sure before jumping to the conclusion they had both already landed on.

“He’s not here,” Stiles repeats. “He’s gone, Derek!”

Laura is out of the car in an instant. She hears Derek’s panicked shout behind her, his warning for Stiles to run. She hopes it’s enough; he may be an abrasive little shit, but she likes Stiles. It would be a shame for him to die now just because they made the mistake of sending him in alone, thinking he would be safe.

Laura really should know by now that they’re never safe.

She careens into the facility’s long hallway in time to see Stiles looking back and forth between a familiar red-haired nurse and Peter, on his feet like Laura hasn’t seen in years. The burns along the side of his face are the same as always, but his eyes are sharp and present. They leave Stiles to land on Laura instead and a smile twists his lips.

“Laura,” he says. “So nice to see you. It’s been too long.”

The memory of claws digging into her stomach comes back to her in a rush and her vision goes red.

“Apparently, not as long as I thought.”

It had all been so fast that night, so dark and chaotic, that Laura hadn’t seen the face of the wolf that attacked her. It never even occurred to her that it might’ve been her uncle. All this time, they were running around town searching frantically for a fully functional alpha werewolf. Why would she suspect him?

Before Laura can ask, Derek’s snarl rips through the air. With one blow, the nurse hits the ground. Peter tuts at them.

“That’s not nice,” he tells Derek. “She’s my nurse.”

“She’s a psychotic bitch helping you kill people,” Derek throws back. Then, to Stiles, “Get out of the way.”

Stiles lets out a faint, “Oh, damn,” and scrambles to take up residence behind Derek’s broad back. Peter takes it all in with the detached interest of one watching a bug crawl across the pavement. It’s very different from the woods, feral and unhinged under the full moon’s light, and even more different from the uncle she remembers, shrewd and arrogant, yes, but not without warmth.

“You tried to kill me,” Laura says. “Your own niece. Your family.”

Peter’s cold eyes narrow. “Family,” he drawls, acid in his tone. “What sort of family leaves one of their own behind?”

“What else were we supposed to do?” The words get stuck on the lump in Laura’s throat, forcing their way past with a painful rasp. “The town was crawling with hunters waiting to finish what they started. If we’d stayed, we would’ve been—”

“And what about me?” Peter asked, head cocked. “Alone. Trapped. Defenseless.”

“Not a threat. You couldn’t hurt anyone the way you were,” Laura said, “and that meant that you were protected under the Code.”

Silkily, Peter said, “Yes, we all know how ironclad the precious Code is.”

Laura flushed, shame and grief welling up to choke her. “I didn’t know what else to do! I was eighteen and devastated and scared, and it wasn’t like I could take care of you myself. You needed more help than I could give you. This is where you were safest, Peter, and I wanted to keep you safe. But it wasn’t the safest place for us. We had to go.”

“So you went gallivanting off across the country. Meanwhile, here I was, locked inside the burned out husk of my failing body, slipping further and further from my sanity with every passing minute.” Peter’s smile is unnerving. “I was healing,” he says. “Cell by cell, I healed, until I hit a plateau. In the end, all I needed was a boost of power to finish the job.”

As they watch, the burns along his jaw begins to fade, waxy scar tissue receding to leave pale, unblemished new skin in its wake. A mere moment later, he is restored. If it wasn’t  for his long hair, he could have stepped right out of Laura’s memories from before the fire. As if none of it ever happened.

“The alpha power,” Derek says, his voice tight with emotion. “You tried to kill Laura so that you could heal yourself.”

Laura raises her head high, heart pounding. “But you couldn’t kill me. It wasn’t my power you stole.”

“No,” Peter allows, even as his eyes light up a bloody red. “You proved frustratingly difficult to dispatch. I had to find another to serve my purpose. Luckily, high school teachers don’t get a lot of martial training.”

It takes a few seconds for Laura to make the connection, but when she does, her heart drops. “Mrs. Finch?” The biology teacher’s body was found a ways into the trees behind the lacrosse fields several days ago. An animal attack, according to authorities, of course. “I knew she was a werewolf, but not an alpha.”

Peter looks disappointed. “Alphas can hide their presence, Laura,” he says. “You should know this. I’m sure Talia taught you how.”

Laura swallows down the wave of revulsion that comes with hearing her mother’s name in that disdainful tone. “You killed an innocent woman,” she says. “You murdered her to save yourself.”

“I was out of my mind,” Peter bites out. “You have no idea what it was like.”

“Were you out of your mind when you bit Scott?” Stiles pipes up from over Derek’s shoulder. Immediately, he seems to think better of drawing attention to himself. It’s too late, though. Peter eyes him with a bit of curiosity.

“You must be Stiles,” he says. “Would you rather it have been you, Stiles? It could’ve been, you know. One beta is as good as another to a new alpha in need of a pack.”

Derek growls, reaching behind to shove Stiles further down the hallway, like that will be enough to keep him safe if Peter decides to attack. “You won’t be getting any more.”

“Now, now, Derek. There’s no need to be hostile.”

“Says the man who nearly eviscerated me,” Laura grits out.

Her own eyes are glowing now, claws at the ready. Part of her still screams that this is her uncle, his scent still carrying the comforting notes of family and home, but every animal instinct she has rebels against him. She knows, on every level of her being, that the person before her is a threat. No amount of sentiment and wishful thinking can erase that.

The first flicker of uncertainty crosses Peter’s face. Not fear—Peter was never prone to fear, even before the fire—but a wariness that has him eyeing them both very carefully. He may be an alpha, and he may be healed now, but there’s no way that he isn’t still weak. A fight with a stronger, healthier alpha and her beta doesn’t have great odds, and he’s smart enough to know it.

“Let’s not be hasty,” he says, pasting on another smile. “It’s not as if we don’t have the same goal here.”

“Biting random teenagers and slaughtering innocent people?” Derek asks through a mouthful of fangs.

Peter’s smile disappears. “They weren’t innocent,” he says sharply. “Laura knows what they were guilty of. Don’t you?”

She thinks of the list she made when she started her investigation. All the people involved in the fire or its cover-up. A list she thought she lost, until the bodies started piling up, one after the other. Mountain lions with a very specific and coincidental taste for arsonists.

“What about the janitor, huh?” Stiles asks, apparently incapable of running away from danger like a reasonable person. “At the school. The one you tore into pieces and left under the bleachers in the gym. What was he guilty of, except for being in your way?”

“Stiles, get out of here,” Derek snaps at him.

“Yes, Stiles,” Peter echoes. “Run along home before you get yourself hurt.”

“He’s not going to be the one getting hurt here,” Laura says, a growl roughening her voice.

Between one heartbeat and the next, she gathers her strength and leaps. It’s too abrupt for Peter to dodge, but he twists just enough to deflect the force of her attack. He stumbles but doesn’t fall, and Laura skids past him, claws digging into the linoleum to drag herself to a halt.

Derek’s quick to follow suit. Peter is prepared this time, though, and Derek is flung back with a force that reduces the nurse’s station to a pile of splinters. Stiles stumbles back, out of the way of the cloud of debris, and then surges forward again to help drag Derek free of the wreckage. Peter bears down on them, a snarl on his lips.

Laura doesn’t let him reach them. With a snarl of her own, she goes for Peter’s legs, raking her claws across the backs of his ankles. She gets a howl of pain for her efforts and Peter staggers. He lashes out and catches Laura across the chest before her next attack can land. It knocks the wind from her, but it doesn’t stop her from coming. Her next hit draws blood along Peter’s side before a hard blow connects with the side of her head.

For a moment, she can’t see. The red in her vision is blood now, rather than rage, and the world spins. By the time things stabilize, the hallway before her is empty. Smears of red show Peter’s path to the door, which hangs on its hinges. The unconscious nurse is starting to stir.

Derek limps to Laura’s side. “Should we go after him?”

He’s clutching at his side like maybe a rib or two is broken. Stiles hovers at his shoulder, wide-eyed, hands outstretched like he’s waiting for Derek to collapse. Laura’s ripped shirt is soaked through with blood, though the scratches are starting to heal already. Derek’s injuries will take longer.

With a grimace, Laura lets herself collapse against the wall. “No,” she says. “We need to regroup. Rest. Figure out where to go from here.”

Derek nods with obvious relief. This time, when Stiles offers his shoulder for support, Derek lets himself take it.

“So…” Stiles points at the nurse. “What are we gonna do about her?”

Laura sighs. “Fuck if I know.”

Everything hurts, and not just physically. She feels scraped raw all the way down to her bones. Her mind is fuzzy now with the adrenaline rush of battle fading and she can’t hold a thought in her head long enough to process it.

Derek���s hand finds her shoulder and squeezes. “Hey,” he says softly. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

It’s the vaguest kind of platitude, but it still makes warmth settle in Laura’s chest. She lays her hand over Derek’s, squeezing back, and musters up a smile for her little brother.

“Yeah. We’ll figure it out.” 

[goddamnblazeinthedark]

reputation. (m) {chapter one: ready for it?}

pairing: Stiles Stilisnki/ Jackson Whittemore

genre warning: fanfiction (teen wolf) ; Teen (contains sex and cursing)

words: 1,146 words

summary: a secret relationship at the pack meeting.

a/n: the full story is out on ao3, but wanted to post on tumblr for people who use it more. new chapter on tumblr every Wednesday!

I-I-I see how this is gon' go Touch me and you'll never be alone I-Island breeze and lights down low No one has to know In the middle of the night, in my dreams You should see the things we do, baby In the middle of the night, in my dreams I know I'm gonna be with you So I take my time Are you ready for it?

Stiles sat on the sofa in the loft, nestled in the middle between Scott and Liam. Derek and Peter sat across from them, Jackson sitting in the chair with Lydia on his lap, while Isaac sat on the floor. Nothing had happened in the town, it had been quiet and it was a welcomed change for their senior year. Everything supernatural just took a break, so now the pack meetings had become just a way to check in each week and eat pizza. No one minded the change, in fact it was very welcomed. Stiles looked up for a moment as he reached for another slice, stealing a quick glance at Jackson. Lydia was rubbing his arm, and he was smiling. Looking in on meeting, everything looked so picture perfect. Like someone had cut it out of dough but nothing was what it seemed. Jackson and Stiles were keeping a secret from the others, no one knew they would sneak away to be alone with each other. Making out in the woods or various places without the others around. They made sure to always take precautions when they did this. They both knew they would smell Jackson on Stiles, so they always made sure to be seen together doing something stupid. That way it made sense for Jackson's scent on him. They had been doing this for two years and no one had caught on. Sometimes Stiles felt guilty lying. Lying to Stiles that he liked Lydia when he would catch him staring at her and Jackson together. He felt guilty that they were lying to Lydia; she knew nothing. Stiles compensated this guilt by saying they could only kiss, anything more than that would be wrong. That didn't bother Jackson because he was still having sex with Lydia. There was never a case of blue balls, least for Jackson.

"What about a group limo?" asked Lydia, breaking Stiles out of his thought, taking a bite of the pizza.

"That could be fun, I guess. I still have no one to go with." Said Scott, Derek rolled his eyes as his uncle followed suit. They hated when the conversation turned into a high school trope and would excuse themselves to go do something else but this time they stayed.

"I am sure, Stiles will be your date." Said Peter with a smirk, Isaac let out a laugh from the floor.

"Scott hasn't asked me. I would need a big promposal to go with him." Said Stiles sarcastically, getting a smirk from Jackson from behind Lydia's back, literally.

"I am sure I will find someone before there will be any of that." Said Scott.

"Your loss, Scotty Boy." Said Stiles taking another bite of his pizza.

"We can still go in a limo together, even if not all of us have dates." Said Lydia, Jackson shrugged.

"Why not?" Jackson said nonchalantly, but there was a tug inside of him that wanted Stiles beside him in the limo, but he wouldn't say that out loud.

"Excuse me." Said, Stiles, as he stood up and made his way down the hall towards the bathroom. Talk about the prom had been making him feel odd lately. He didn't think about it like some kind of rite of passage. Maybe the issue was that he couldn't go with whom he wanted to or the fact that he wasn't out to anyone besides Jackson, though neither of them had ever labeled themselves. Stiles was pretty sure that he was fully gay and Jackson was bisexual, but those words never left either of their mouths. It was as unspoken as their relationship. Stiles zipped up his pants and flushed the toilet before making his way to the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror, not even sure why he was doing it but it always felt like a pull to look into one when you are alone and in front of one. He dried his hands off before opening the door to find Jackson pressed against the wall beside the door, Stiles looked to see everyone else was in the living room and out of vision range.

"What are you doing?" asked Stiles curiously, moving in front of him.

"Waiting to use the bathroom and doing this." Said Jackson bringing his body into Stiles' space and kissing him hard on the lips. Stiles kissed back, placing his hand on either side of the wall behind Jackson, as the other's tongue slid past his clothes lips. Stiles allowed his tongue to move against Jackson's tasting the familiar taste. His cock stirred in his jeans, which he pressed against Jackson's crotch, feeling the same hormonal side effect.

"What are you doing after the meeting? Lydia?" asked Stiles causing a chuckle to escape from Jackson's full lips.

"Depends, you have something better in mind, Stilinski?" asked Jackson, Stiles shrugged and licked his lips.

"My house, usual time?"

"Sure, why not." Said Jackson kissing him again, before moving into the bathroom quickly. Stiles was unsure why but 20 seconds later, Scott rounded the corner.

"Figured Jackson would be out by now." Said Scott standing beside Stiles.

"I just got out like five seconds ago and he went in. So still no prom date? I thought you were going to ask Kira." Said Stiles giving his friend a curiously glace.

"Haven't worked up the nerve yet, even werewolves get nervous"

"Well, as a true alpha, you would think you would be impervious to butterflies in your stomach"

"Still a teenager, Stiles," Said Scott, raising a brow for a moment, "were you looking at porn in the bathroom?"

"What? Why?" asked Stiles his heart racing.

"Dude, you reek of arousal."

"Maybe you just turn me on, Scott. You are the hot girl, remember." Said Stiles with a chuckle as he made his way back to the living room. He didn't need to risk Scott smelling anything else on him. Lucky for him, Scott knew about his Tumblr porn habits so he wouldn't second-guess Stiles being turned on by it. Even if the reason he was so turned on was Jackson. All the wolves in the living room made a face when Stiles walked in, Derek rolled his eyes, while Peter, Isaac, and Liam just laughed and shook their head. That was enough to fully get the feelings of horniness to leave his body. Stiles willed himself not to think about the meeting he had with Jackson later tonight, even if the thought kept trying to slip inside of his mind.

[stilinskishit]

Too Long (A Stiles Stilinski Fanfic) - Chapter 15

**First couple of posts have a different title but I changed it because I didn’t like it :)**

Summary: Teen Wolf with a female main character alongside Scott and Stiles? Here it is. Ramie McCall is Scott’s twin sister and best friends with both her twin and Stiles. The trio’s friendship means the world to all three of them, so what happens when there are more than friend type of feelings present?

Tags: @multi-madison​​ @purple286 @multifandxm353​ @bralessandflawless @5secondsofmoxley​ @thesailbells​

https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/

A/N: Sorry this took so long! My amazon account wasn’t working for a bit so I couldn’t write. I skipped over a lot of things because while they’re important to the show’s storyline, I didn’t think they were necessary to fully put in here. Season 3 is coming and I am very excited! 

MASTERLIST

Chapter 15 - Bruises

Season 2, Episode 10, 11, 12

As they were walking into the police station, Derek mentioned to Ramie that there was something important he needed to talk to Scott about. He didn’t say what exactly as when they walked in, it was clear there was trouble. The officer that was usually at the front desk was dead on the floor behind the desk. Derek held a finger up to his lips and crept towards a closed door down the hall, where they could hear muffled voices. Ramie crept behind him until suddenly, she felt a sharp pain on the back of her neck.

“Derek,” she hissed, as her knees felt weak. She reached for the wall and leaned against it, sliding down it as her knees gave out. Just as Derek was about to turn, the kanima tail flicked down from the ceiling again, slicing the back of his neck as well. Jackson jumped down from the ceiling, being only part kanima, and grabbed the back of Derek, holding him up as Scott opened the door in front of Derek.

“Oh thank god,” Scott let out a breath, but not a second later, Jackson pushed Derek onto the ground, him falling limp in front of Scott, Stiles and Matt.

“Ramie!” Stiles tried to move towards her, but Matt moved quickly, holding a gun up right to Stiles face. Ramie sucked in a breath as Stiles froze, backing up. Matt gave Stiles a death glare before leaning over Derek.

“This is the one controlling him?” Derek asked from the ground. “This kid?”

“Well Derek, not everyones lucky enough to be a big bad werewolf,” Matt said as he leaned over Derek. “Yeah, I’ve learned quite a few things lately. Werewolfs, kanimas, hunters. It’s like a fucking halloween party in the town every full moon. Except for you Stiles, what do you turn into?”

“Abominable snowman,” Stiles shrugged sarcastically. “It’s seasonal.”

“Yeah I’m the Tooth Fairy,” Ramie called from the hallway, Jackson turning and hissing at her when she spoke. Matt cocked his head to the side and Jackson lifted a clawed hand, slicing the back of Stiles’ neck as well, who fell on the ground completely on top of Derek, who grunted. If the situation was different, Ramie would’ve thought the situation was quite comical. Suddenly, the sound of car door slamming made Matt stand up.

“Is that her?” Matt asked. Ramie’s eyes narrowed, looking to Scott for an explanation, who gave Ramie a look she couldn’t read. “Do what I tell you to and I won’t hurt her. I won’t even let Jackson near her.”

“Scott don’t trust him,” Stiles called from the floor. Matt grabbed the back of Stiles’ shirt, flipping him onto his back and put and a foot on the op of his chest, nearly his neck. Stiles started to grunt, his face getting red.

“Is this better for you?” Matt spat, Stiles struggling to breath underneath him.

“Stop!” Ramie yelled from the hallway, feeling tears form in her eyes. Matt ignored her.

“Fine, fine just stop,” Scott yelled.

“Then do what I tell you to,” Matt spat back at him.

“Okay alright. Stop,” Scott agreed, Matt finally taking his foot off Stiles, who coughed and sucked in a huge breath. Matt and Scott walked to the front of the police station as Jackson grabbed Ramie from the hallway, dragging her into Sheriff Stilinski’s office, along with Derek and Stiles.

“Sti, are you okay,” Ramie tried to look over at Stiles from her place on the floor, but she couldn’t move her head. She felt tears fall down her cheeks.

“I’m okay,” Stiles coughed slightly. “It’s your Mom Ramie. Your Mom is here.”

“Why is she here?”

“She was on a security tape from the hospital, when one of victims was killed,” Stiles explained, his voice shaky. “We wanted her to I.D. Matt so my Dad could arrest him.”

“We need to do something,” Ramie said, panicking.

However, this was definitely easier said than done. Considering the three of them were paralyzed, it was nearly impossible. Stiles spent the whole time consoling Ramie as she panicked, hearing her mother’s yells and gunshots. Derek was trying to get the kanima venom out of his body, it working better for him thanks to his superhuman abilities. Eventually Scott came and moved Ramie and Stiles to an interrogation room to keep them safe.

Stiles and Ramie missed nearly all of the action that night. Everyone made it out safely, except for Matt. Scott explained to Stiles and Ramie that Gerard, Allison’s grandfather, had killed Matt so he could take over being the master of the kanima. Scott also informed them that Allison was working with her Dad and Gerard, not afraid of killing Jackson. This shocked Ramie the most. She knew Allison was struggling with the death of her mother, but she didn’t think she would cope by taking the side of the enemy.

Then, the McCall twins also had to deal with their mother. Melissa had seen Scott in full wolf form that night, and not surprisingly, was very confused. Scott and Ramie both tried to talk to her many times about it, to explain to her everything that had been going on in their world since the night Scott had been bitten. It took Gerard threatening Scott and nearly killing Melissa to get her to talk to him.  

Ramie, of course, had to work when things started to get crazy again. She had 3 missed calls from Scott when she checked her phone after work, and learned from calling him back that she missed more than just a lacrosse game. Jackson had dropped dead, literally, during the game. Scott and Isaac weren’t sure what was happening with him, but he seemed to be covered in some weird, gooey cocoon, which was certainly going to be hard to explain to a medical examiner. Scott told Ramie he and Isaac were planning to steal Jackson’s body, because they weren’t quite sure if he was actually dead. He also told Ramie that Stiles had gone missing after the game, but Sheriff Stilinski had just let Scott know he was finally home safe.

Ramie rushed over to the Stilinski residence to check on Stiles, since Scott had no idea what had happened to him after the game. Her legs burned from pedaling her bike so fast the whole way to their house, and she was completely out of breath as she banged on the familiar front door. Noah let her in and she nearly leaped up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and knocking on Stiles’ closed door when she got to it. She heard a grunt from inside that somewhat sounded like come in, so she pushed the door open to find Stiles laying on his stomach on his bed.

“What happened?” Ramie panted, as Stiles turned his head towards her. His cheek was bloodied and brusied, as well as his lip, which was split on one side. “Stiles, ohmygod.”

She ran over, sitting on the edge of his bed as he sat up. Ramie grabbed his face on both sides to inspect it, him wincing when her thumb got close to his cheekbone.

“What the fuck happened to you, who did this?”

“The Argents,” Stiles said quietly as Ramie dropped her hands from his face. “Boyd and Erica, they were trying to leave. They wanted to find another pack to join. The Argents captured them and have them hidden in their basement. I was trying to help.”

“We have to go get them,” Ramie said instantly, standing up off the bed. “We have to help them, and we have to help Scott and Isaac save Jackson.”

“Slow down,” Stiles said calmly as Ramie started to panic. He grabbed her hands and pulled her back down to sit. “Do you see my face? I’m lucky this is all they did. And whatever happens with Jackson, it’s going to get ugly. I can’t let you go there and get hurt.”

“I don’t care about getting hurt, I care about saving our friends,” Ramie said stubbornly, pulling her hands from Stiles. She knew if she let him get under her skin she was done for. “If we can save lives it doesn’t matter if I get hurt along the way, I’ll be fine.”

Ramie stood up again and walked towards the door, Stiles jumping up behind her and grabbing her hand again. She turned back towards him angrily, pulling her hand out of his grasp.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Stiles said, reaching around her and closing his door.

“You are absolutely not the boss of me,” Ramie seethed at him, glaring up at the taller boy.

“Here’s the thing, Ramona,” Stiles said. Ramie was about to bitch at him for using her full name, but he continued talking before she got the chance. “You say you don’t care if you get hurt. Alright, fine. But do you know how I’ll feel? If anything happens to you? I’ll be devastated. And if you die? I will literally go out of my fucking mind.”

Ramie opened her mouth, but Stiles cut her off, his voice rising.

“Death doesn’t happen to just you, Raim. It happens to everyone around you. Me, Scott, your Mom. Everyone standing there at your funeral trying to figure out how the hell to live their lives when you aren’t there. Look at my fucking face!”

Stiles stepped forward, the anger in him clearly growing as he pointed at his face.

“Do you think this was actually meant to hurt me? Do you think the Argents care about hurting the human friend who does nothing?” He continued, nearly yelling at this point, stepping forward again. Ramie backed away from him again, tears brimming her eyes as her back hit the door, slamming it the rest of the way. Stiles stopped at the loud noise, and noticed the tears in her eyes. His face softened, realizing how worked up he had gotten.

“I…” he started, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine,” Ramie cut him off. “I should go. I need to find Lydia. She’s probably upset about Jackson.”

Ramie heard Stiles call after her but she ignored him as she left his room, and he didn’t follow behind her.

…

Ramie went straight home and went to bed, feeling too overwhelmed to do anything else. She woke up the next morning to Scott snoring loudly from the next room over, and for a split second she didn’t think about anything supernatural. A moment of peace. Then, everything came back to her. Jackson, Matt, the Argents. She ran into Scott’s room, waking him up immediately and questioning him on everything that happened the previous night. Scott explained that Jackson was never dead, but morphing into a new version of his supernatural self, who was then killed by Derek and Peter, after Derek had bit Gerard, which promptly killed him.

Ramie was relieved, for Lydia’s sake, to find out that Jackson escaped death yet again, and had finally turned into a werewolf, no longer a kanima. Despite Allison briefly siding with her insane Grandfather, Scott obviously forgave her, but Allison had ended their relationship. Scott said he was going to wait for her to be ready to date again. He seemed pretty upset, but was definitely trying to hide it. Ramie took a deep breath after Scott explained the happenings of the previous night.

“Guess I shouldn’t have gone to bed so early,” Ramie half chuckled.

“I was honestly shocked you didn’t show up with Stiles,” Scott laughed, as Ramie gave a half smile, looking down at her hands. “Did something happen?”

“Stiles just freaked out on me last night,” Ramie said. “He was pissed at me for wanting to help.”

“He just wants you safe, as do I,” Scott gave her a small smile. She shrugged, standing up from his bed, wanting the conversation about Stiles to end. Everything surrounding him lately had been so confusing, and Ramie didn’t want to share those thoughts with her brother.

…

After everything supernatural subsided, the end of the school year came quickly, and before Ramie knew it, she was packing as much as she could into a very large suitcase. She was spending the summer in England working as Nanny, and couldn’t wait to get away from Beacon Hills for three months. Her Dad surprisingly bought her the plane tickets for her birthday, and the family she was working for offered good pay, so her Mom reluctantly decided Ramie could go.

Grabbing her neck pillow off her bed, Ramie trudged down the stairs with all of her things, dropping them at the front door. Melissa was meant to be home anytime to bring her to the airport.

“You’re really leaving me for the whole summer?” A voice came from behind her. Stiles was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed and a pout on his face.

“You’ve got Scott,” Ramie gabbed a thumb at his brother, who was sitting on the couch with a bowl of chips.

“You know you’re my favorite McCall though,” Stiles continued, a crooked grin crossing his face. Scott chucked a pillow at him, which nearly knocked over a lamp in flight. Ramie followed Stiles into the living room, sitting down on the arm of the chair he flopped into after grabbing the bowl out of Scott’s lap and shoving a few chips in his mouth.

“I will miss you, both of you,” Ramie said, looking between the two boys. She was definitely nervous about going, but she knew she needed a break from the madness of Beacon Hills.

“Isaac hasn’t stopped whining about you leaving,” Scott gave Ramie a mischievous grin, and she rolled her eyes. Ramie heard Stiles let out a puff of air next to her, but she didn’t look at him.

“He’ll live,” Ramie said, shrugging. She promised Isaac they could Facetime and text and call, but the boy was extremely upset about her leaving for the summer. He was excited about having to have a long distance relationship, and neither was Ramie.

Ramie’s thoughts about Isaac were interrupted by Melissa honking from the driveway, signaling that she was home and it was time to leave.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Ramie sighed, standing up and walking into the entryway, pulling on her backpack and grabbing her things. The two boys followed her like puppies, watching her get her things together. “So this is goodbye.”

Scott instantly frowned, jumping forward and tackling Ramie in a hug. Her eyes brimmed with tears. Scott and Ramie had never been apart for longer than a week or so. When she pulled away she saw a tear drop down his cheek, and which caused a few to drop down her cheeks as well.

“I’ll bring this to the car,” Scott sniffled, grabbing Ramie’s suitcase, leaving her and Stiles alone. She turned to the buzzcut boy, who was shuffling his feet and staring at the ground, hands shoved in his pockets.

“A summer without the annoying sister starts now Stilinski,” Ramie joked, trying to break the tension. Stiles looked up, his eyes meeting hers. They looked sad, and his mouth was slightly open in shock.

“It’s not like that at all,” he said quietly.

“I know, I’m just teasing,” Ramie reached up and put a hand on his bicep, before dropping it quickly when his eyes darted to her hand.

“I’ll miss you a lot too,” Stiles said, making eye contact with Ramie again. “You’ll Facetime and text and call me?”

“You know I will,” Ramie replied, not being able to help the smile on her face. She walked towards him, wrapping her arms arounds around his neck. He bent slightly to hug her back, his head resting on her shoulder. The two didn’t let go of each other until another honk came from the driveway, causing them both to jump apart.

“Be safe, text me when you get through security, and before you take off, and when you land-“

“I will,” Ramie cut off Stiles’ rambling. His cheeks flashed pink and he gave her a small smile. “Don’t get into too much trouble this summer, Mischief.”

Stiles eyes shot to hers at the use of the nickname his Mom and Ramie used to call him long ago. His eyes looked glassy and he pulled her into another hug, this one much tighter than before.

“I’m gonna miss you Ramona.”

[scribeofmorpheus]

Mark of the Wolf Part 10

Catch up here!

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader (Lastname: Markolf)

Words: 3800

Warnings: Violence (duh!), mentions of PTSD

A/N: This is long overdue and also a hefty chapter with me trying and failing to write action scenes. There are flashbacks (in italics) between scenes because this is quite the back and forth chapter. As well as some Japanese and Swedish dialogue! ENJOY! Also: Kaze is Japanese and is pronounced Kah-Zeh. Feedback is encouraged. Like and reblog :) Don’t be afraid to ask to be tagged!

Previously:

Derek watched you try your hardest to move to the beat, but he could tell you weren't in your element. No one should be sober in a night club. Watching you brought a cheeky smile to his face, he almost had the urge to laugh a little.

His phone chimed in his pocket. On the dance floor a few feet from you, he noticed Scott get the same message. Peter's text message read: "We're in position." A few seconds later Liam sent a message of his own: "They took the bait. They're heading your way!" Derek looked down at Scott and spoke just loud enough for his wolf hearing to pick up, "Guess its show time." Scott nodded in acknowledgement and made his way to the stairs leading up to the roof.

"We're all gonna die," Derek sighed to himself, bunching up his fists in anticipation for a fight.

Derek melted further into the crowd until it thinned out to nothing more than one or two people using the empty space to make out and be alone. He pushed through, a part of him feeling uneasy at having lost sight of you on the ground floor, but he had a role to play just as you did. He reached a door that led onto a structurally unsound balcony and pushed it open. On the floor was a bag full of equipment and specially crafted grenades. He picked up the bag and made for the stairs that led further up.

***

Liam ran as fast as his human legs would let him. He refused to change under the circumstances. He needed to keep his senses sharp, but more importantly, he needed to stay in control. His heart hammered against his ribcage vigorously. He could taste the metallic tang of his own blood from where Monroe struck him, rage bubbling to the surface. Rage he had to contain for the fight they'd undoubtedly face in the next few minutes.

When Liam reached the abandoned church they had chosen for their plan of attack, he was surprised to find it illuminated by flashing lights and loud music blaring out of unsound window structures.

His phone beeped, displaying a message from Peter. He was in position and soon Liam would be too.

In swift motions, Liam pulled his phone out, typed away a message and sent it out to the group chat before tossing the tracker Monroe slipped in his pocket into a crack on the side of the church. With his part handled, Liam made for the next rendezvous point.

***

Peter kept his distance from the warehouse where Monroe made her base of operations. He was far enough to avoid visual detection but close enough to eavesdrop on conversations. Peter would never grow tired of his werewolf advantages. He could hear the faint sounds of metal scratching on the untiled floor. It was irritating.

"Should we go after him?" He heard an unfamiliar voice say.

He smirked to himself when he caught wind of Monroe ushering her orders to the rest of her men, "Not yet. He'll lead us to Scot McCall and the rest of his pack. Only then do we kill him." And then after a pause: "Leave a few men to make sure our guest in the basement stays put."

Peter's smile grew wider. That's the confirmation he needed. And with most of Monroe's men leaving the compound and heading out after Liam, his half of the plan was shaping up to be a piece of cake.

Stiles peeked around the abandoned vehicle they used as cover and turned to say something but was caught off guard by Peter's devilish grin. "Jesus!" He said in freight.

"Shh!" Peter rebutted aggressively.

Stiles's eyes went wide and looked at him accusingly, "Don't 'Shhh' me. Next time don't grin like an idiot. I thought you were going to eat me for a second there."

"If you don't shut up, I just might..." Peter threatened.

"Why'd they have to stick us together?" Stiles whined

Peter rolled his eyes and crouched closer to the warehouse, "You volunteered."

Stiles scampered after him, half tripping over a rock. When he secured his footing he said, "Yes, because I don't trust you. You always have an angle."

Peter looked down at Stiles unimpressed, "And even if I did, what was your grand plan to stop me?"

Stiles thought hard on his question and his face contorted in a thoughtful expression, but the only words out of his mouth were, "Ahhhhh, I'm still working on it."

"Come on," Peter sighed, using his strength to hoist Stiles through a window with one arm. Stiles, unprepared, made a freakishly feminine sound. Peter jumped in after him. "Here," he held out his phone, "Tell the rest of the team we're in position."

Peter took in his surroundings. The building was bare, except for a few crates of ammunition and possibly some technical equipment. There was a metal chair with rope next to it in the centre. Peter guessed that was where they had Liam tied up. When Stiles was done, he handed the phone back to Peter and asked: "What now?"

"Now, we look for the good druid."

"Right," Stiles said with purpose. He took a determined step forward, his foot crashing against an empty paint can. His eyes went wide giving Peter an 'Oops' shrug. Peter put his face in his hands and shook his head.

"Quietly."

"Right. Quietly."

***

As you swayed your body from side to side, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Your mind kept racing through every aspect of the plan and how easily it could all fall apart. The music was loud and distracting, you were thankful for that. At the very least, you wouldn't have to strain yourself to keep mindful of any creak, footstep or distressing sounds. It meant that for now, you could try and lose yourself in the moment, among all the other alcohol-fuelled bodies grinding close to one another. Your mind wandered back to a memory from earlier.

You and Derek hoped out of the off-road vehicle you'd rented for the trip in Mexico. His eyes were shielded from the brutal sun by a pair of Ray-bans. You couldn't help but notice just how well they framed his face, making him look all the more mysterious -and sexy as hell. He walked to the edge of the road and stood there with his arms folded over his chest. You walked over to stand by his side.

"This the place?" You asked, taking in the underwhelming appearance of the destitute church.

"Yeah. It's perfect. Easily fortifiable. Many exits and there's an old tunnel system that was built under it. There's a dense treeline not too far south -if we still believe those hunters travel through trees." Derek shook his head, still finding a hint of absurdity in what he just said. "It should work for our purposes."

You unfolded your map and looked at your position -far from any towns to avoid an incident yet close to several abandoned buildings in case you needed a place to lay low, if things went bad. "And the locals?" you asked.

Derek's eyebrows furrowed beneath his glasses, "Should be empty. Most locals won’t come here."

You were about to ask him why, but he looked down at you and shrugged, "Local curse. Something about ghosts." was all he said.

"Is it real?"

"Don't know." He looked at you with a playful smile on his face, "But all I know is that this place should be good and empty tonight."

"And we just have to hope those hunters want me bad enough to cross borders for… If they even perceive travel the same way we do.”

How could any of you have known that a bunch of rebellious teenagers would choose to host a rave in the very same church you'd chosen to have your showdown?

After a few minutes of fumbling around, trying to seem like you were having a good time, a loud noise sounded throughout the age-old structure. It didn't help that the acoustics in the church were amazing either. Instinctively, you brought your hands to your ears and crouched lower -and apparently, so did everyone else. The DJ stopped playing his music and everyone looked to where the sound had come from with wide eyes and confused expressions.

By the double doors of the church, you saw a woman stand with legs far apart. A large party of men wearing patched-together tactical gear stood behind her. Her face stern and her eyes filled with cold distaste, she looked like a woman ready for war. When you noticed the shotgun in her hand letting off wisps of hot smoke, you knew instantly what the sound had been and who she was.

"Monroe," you whispered.

"Party's over," she said coolly. When no one moved, she cocked her shotgun and took a step forward. "I. Said. Party's over!"

As the crowd thinned out, you had a hard time keeping your ground. Everywhere around you, elbows, arms and legs kept bumping into you. You were just thankful there wasn’t a large enough crowd to cause a stampede. As you began to make your way to cover, Monroe spoke again and this time you were shocked to learn she was addressing you.

"Not you!" Monroe shouted. She nodded her head at one of her men and they took her order without the need for words. Two men walked over to you and grabbed your shoulders. Dragging you along towards their leader.

You wanted to ask what this was all about, why she chose to single you out of the crowd, but you figured such questions were irrelevant. Somehow, you always ended up at the centre of trouble.

"You look familiar…" She turned your chin from side to side with her long, calloused fingers. "Why is that?" She squinted her eyes at you.

You chose to stay quiet.

The church was all but empty now, except for you, Scott, Monroe and Derek -who seemed to have disappeared in all the excitement.

Behind you, two bodies hit the ground from the second-floor railing with a padded thud. "Let her go, Monroe!" Scott's voice spoke out, slightly muffled by his fangs. "It's me you want!"

"Scott McCall. The Alpha!" She bellowed rousingly. "All alone? Now, now, Scott..." Monroe let go of your face and walked towards the centre of the room, "You aren't planning something are you?"

"Against you and your men? You and I both know who has the numbers in that fight," Scott said bitterly.

"You're not wrong there. The werewolf population has hit staggering all-time lows recently. And as much as I'd love for me and my hunter's to take all the credit, it seems our efforts have inspired a few others to join in the hunt."

"You and your men aren't hunters. They have a code. You're just murderers who use fear and intimidation to brainwash people into becoming murderers too!" Scott was practically foaming at the mouth. You'd never seen him so filled with rage before. His eyes darted towards the church's entrance and then back to you, and finally onto Monroe. You could've sworn you saw his lips twitch into a secret smile for a second. You looked behind you and saw something whoosh past the entrance at inhuman speeds.

"Enough talk! Get down so we can end this once and for all!" Monroe ordered. Dropping her shotgun on the ground, one of her men jogged to her side and handed her two stun rods. She grabbed them eagerly and twirled them between her fingers gracefully. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this fight!"

Scott's phone chimed. He looked down at the screen and his red eyes lit up with satisfaction. "Yes, you're right. Enough talk."

"Come on!" She shouted.

Scott jumped off the second-floor railing and landed two feet in front of Monroe, his teeth and claws fully transformed. He scratched at the wooden floor with predatory menace and roared, craning his neck to the roof, before charging Monroe. You tried to move, but the guards simply tightened their grip on your arm and shook you to stay in place. You gritted your teeth to keep from swearing.

Scott paired attack after attack and Monroe, who was somehow able to keep up with Scott's slashes and clawing advances, managed to parry and counter nearly every motion with skilled precision. You had never seen a human hold their own against an Alpha with such determination before. She truly was a force to reckon with. As they fought, you began to notice the wind grew more and more restless. Moisture clung to the air and you could almost smell rain.

Scott lured Monroe close by letting his defences down, she managed to strike him in the chest, but he had flung the baton away before she could stun him. Making haste as to not waste his new opening, Scott ducked, swivelled and wrapped his claws around Monroe's neck as they stood back to back. Then in an instant, he sent her hurdling with great momentum towards a series of pews. Her body flipped and landed on the ground hard. She struggled to sit up, a cloud of dust heaved into the air by a wet cough. Scott stalked towards her with caution.

"It's over Monroe."

She spat blood onto the floor and wiped her mouth, a grin giving way to the view of white enamel stained by dark blood. "Is it?"

She pulled out a baton from underneath her body and zapped him with a surge of lethal volts that sent his body curdling to the floor with a painful yelp. Monroe placed her knee on Scott's chest as she tased him again and again. The room filling with painful grunts and a sickening laugh.

You began to flash back to that night in the woods. Scott's face morphing into Alex's and then back again. His screams becoming Scott's grunts. Monroe's laugh turning more masculine, hollow. Her face transitioning between Alyster's and her own. You shook your head, unable to trust your mind at that moment. "Stop," you whispered. "Stop. Stop, STOP!"

Thunder rumbled and a flash of dry lightning filled the space, blinding and white. When everyone regained their stances and blinked the bright spots away, you noticed Scott looking at you with a strange expression on his face. Monroe too.

"Your eyes..." Monroe whispered.

Suddenly, the wind became angry and it felt as though the temperature had dropped by several degrees. The doors and windows began to swing violently against rusty hinges. The whole church sounded like it was creaking in protest. Out of every shadow and dark corner bodies wearing ancient armour began to advance. Their eyes were practically lifeless. A chill crept up your spine and you had the unexplainable urge to look behind you. Like something was beckoning you towards it, despite your body's protests in fear. You craned your neck and when you saw what it was… who it was, your mouth turned dry and your nose began to choke on non-existent smoke.

A paling man with long, thin red hair held out one single bony finger, his voice as coarse as shards of glass cutting through vocal cords, "Give us the girl." He said calmly. The device around his neck -the Oculus- began to glow its sickly green colour. Tendrils of bright green light began to flow outward, seeking you out. The closer the tendrils got, the greater the feeling of dread filled your gut. But what appeared to unnerve you the most, was that no one else noticed the green tendrils snaking closer and closer towards you.

"What is this?" Monroe asked with a shaky voice. She swivelled her head from side to side, her face filled with fear as she realised they were all surrounded.

One of her men got trigger happy and unloaded his clip into the chest of a mouthless creature. When all his bullets were lodged into its chest, it looked down at the destruction done to its chest with a displeased expression, it shook a single digit in dismay as black oozed out of its wounds and the next thing you knew, the man was on the floor, blood pouring out of his neck. A wrenching gurgling noise escaping his throat. The creature had been so fast, you never once saw him reach for a weapon.

Scott used Monroe's state of distraction to kick her in the stomach and crawl out from under her knee. She staggered back and held her hand out to one of her men. As one of her men tossed her a machine gun, Scott shouted, "Now!"

Out of nowhere, several smoke grenades cluttered around the feet of Monroe's soldiers and the Order's. The room filled with smoke that held a familiar tinge to it -sage. Then you saw a dark figure ghost around the two men who had held you, sending them flying back into the growing smoke. You noticed the tendrils disappear behind the curtain of growing smoke. You took out the bandana you had stashed in your back pocket and tied it around your nose. The figure stood with an intimidating presence between you and your enemies. A loud aggressive roar filled the room and familiar bright blue eyes looked at you with a soft reassurance.

"Derek?"

The obscured figure tilted its head slightly, its eyes growing softer at the mention of his name. It was Derek. Through the smoke, you could hear more gunshots and grunts. Knowing you couldn't see as well as him, Derek acting as your shield, began to inch backwards slowly, his claws opened wide at either of your sides. You followed his direction and allowed him to inch you backwards until you bumped against another person’s back. You jumped and quickly turned, relieved to be greeted by Scott's glowing eyes.

"Well, we did it. We got them here." You said wistfully.

"That was the easy part," Derek said.

"Easy for you to say," Scott rubbed his ribs where Monroe had tased him repeatedly.

"You survived didn't you?" Derek said.

"Regardless, let's just hope Liam and your contact follow through in time," you said.

"She will," was all Derek said in reply.

Even though his position was obscured by the mess of fighting bodies and thick smoke, you heard the familiar dark voice of Alyster issue his commands, "Astrid, bring me the girl. Kaze, deal with this smoke."

A light, feminine voice spoke out in Japanese, "Okonawa  remasu."

It is done

With those words, the wind began to pick up again as though it was under someone’s spell. It howled like an unwelcome spectre, taking old window shutters off their hinges and moving several pieces of derelict furniture with it. The smoke was beginning to clear and you could see an outline of a petite woman with short, jet black hair at the epicentre of where the strong winds were generated from. Her eyes not glowing, but almost shimmering a dull grey.

Scott shielded his eyes from the drying winds. He looked over at the woman and uttered: "Kitsune."

When the wind began to return to normal the whistling of an arrow whizzed towards you. Out of your peripheral, a small object blurred past you just as Derek used his body to move you close to the ground. He snapped up swiftly, bringing his hand to grasp something close to his face. With a crack, Derek snapped the arrow he had stopped close to his eye and it cluttered to the floor. He growled, bringing his claws to an attack position as Astrid -the archer- nocked another arrow from her vantage point two flights up. A wicked grin on her face showing just how much she was enjoying the chaos around her.

"Idag tar du ditt sista andetag, Varg!" Astrid said triumphantly.

Today you breathe your last breath, Wolf!

"Whatever you said, I can assure you, thing's aren't gonna go your way!" Derek warned, chucking a large piece of debris at her.

Astrid nimbly dodged his projectile and climbed one level down by vaulting off the second floor and catching the railing on the first floor. When she had her footing she nocked two arrows simultaneously, they had wedged themselves into two of Monroe's men who were about to flank from Derek's sides.

Derek looked shocked. "You're mine, Wolf!" Astrid said as she aimed a new arrow at Derek's chest.

As Derek dodged each arrow by a razor's edge, Scott set his sights on the non-threatening looking Kitsune who smiled pleasantly. Her eyes peacefully closed as though she were meditating in a Zen garden. Enclosing around her was a swarm of Monroe's men. Once in position, several of them raised their sights on her. Scott could do nothing but watch with curiosity.

Behind you, you felt the cold air of the green tendrils get close to your skin. When you looked down, you noticed one tendril was within an inch of your wrist. You gasped and yanked your arm away. Derek and Scott heard your gasp and turned to see if someone had broken through their protective circle, they hadn't. Puzzled they looked away and returned their attention to their opponents.  

The men surrounding the Kitsune fired off their weapons but were dismayed to realise their bullets had been swept up in a miniature tornado. The furniture and dust began to slowly move towards the spin force generated by the tornado until it stopped and reversed in direction. All the bullets trapped in the spinning air were now released back to the men who shot them out.

Hundreds of bullets swerved and curved around pillars and walls to embed themselves into Monroe's men. Scott and Derek instantly reached for you and both of them pushed your shoulders down as they ducked for cover too. Just then you felt your whole body go limp as a coldness took over your body. Your body was paralysed and all you could do was look down at your ankle where a green tendril had wrapped itself around you.

Time slowed, sound vanished and your vision was filled with nothing but the green smoke of the Oculus and the sight of a weary-looking Alyster. His eyes met yours with a chilling snap. His lips slowly, painfully, tugging towards his eyes to form an unnerving smile.

"Come with us, and all this chaos can end. Come with us and I'll tell you the truth," his words swarmed around your brain. It was then that you realised he was inside your head. You tried to shake him out, to scream for him to shut up, but you were motionless, voiceless and completely helpless. "Come with us and you will learn of your importance to the Order... And the fate of the world."

Chapter 11>>

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[sourwolfstories]

fluffy christmas sterek fics

hooked on (dangling by a yarn) by extantecstasy

One hundred days, ten scarves, one Christmas, and Stiles' dormant magic has to ruin everything.

All I Want for Christmas (Is You) by blindinglights

Derek meets Stiles in a department store while shopping for his family, after seeing a little girl crying for her Dad on the floor. They part ways and Derek doesn’t think he’ll see Stiles again. Beacon Hills may not be that big, but it still doesn’t mean he’ll ever run into Stiles, because that’s just not how Derek’s life works. Despite what Erica tries to tell him whenever she can, that sometimes fate can happen, Christmas miracles, whatever, it won’t.

(Or, the one where Stiles is a single dad, Derek falls for him, and Christmas ends up better than Derek expected.)

Secret Santa by rainbowninja167

Derek is already thoroughly sick of Christmas by the time Erica bullies him into dressing up as Santa for a holiday charity. It was only supposed to take a couple hours. Until some kid starts accosting him all over Beacon Hills, insisting that Derek is the real Santa.

That’ll Be $4.20 (But You Can Have My Heart For Free) by stilinski_wolf

Stiles is the barista at the coffee shop Derek frequents, and after they start talking via messages on Derek's coffee cups, Stiles gets the courage to tell Derek he likes him, and Derek asks him out.

Stiles' Christmas that year just got a whole lot better.

Glad Tidings by stilinskisparkles

“Eight people are going to be descending on our home in a mere matter of days, Derek.” Stiles grabs the pizza box, uses it to gesture at the pile of books and papers under the table, away and towards Derek’s sneaker collection. “You want them to think we live like this all the time?”

“We do live like this all the time,” Derek huffs, stretching lazily.

You put a Hallmark on my Heart by giantteenwolforgy

Stiles is funny and smart and kind and is also his daughter's teacher and his boss's son. On the list of people who are off-limits, Stiles has held the top spot for as long as Derek has known him.

Since Derek is Derek, Stiles also happens to rank number one on the list of people Derek is in love with. Seriously. His life is like a bad Hallmark movie.

I Just Want You For My Own (More Than You Could Ever Know) by yodasyoyo

“What is with that sweater, dude?”

Derek ducks his head to look at it, abashed. “Uh- Mrs Hernandez knitted it for me. It’s an early Christmas gift.” He smooths it down self-consciously.

Stiles cocks an eyebrow.

“What? She’s my neighbor and sometimes I-” Derek trails off. Stiles’ other eyebrow rises to join the first, and Derek sighs. “Sometimes I help her carry her groceries."

Of course he does. One day maybe Stiles will stop being in love with Derek Hale, but today is not that day.

Please Come Home for Christmas by littlefrog1025

Derek spends the Christmas season with Stiles, but the last time he checked they weren't married with kids...

It’s A Christmas Thing by SnackerJack

Okay, Stiles knows that he’s part of the pack. He does. He is. It just... doesn’t feel like it at the moment. But it’s Christmas, so he sucks it up and proceeds to drown his feelings in sugar cookies. Or, five times Stiles got kissed under the mistletoe, and one time where it actually mattered.

Layover by dr_girlfriend

Excerpt:

Big, serious brown eyes were staring right into his from only a few inches away. The child had clambered half over the arm of Derek’s chair to study him at close range, her little rosebud mouth pursed in concentration.

“Uh.” Derek couldn’t look away as the girl reached out one pudgy hand and patted him gently on the cheek. Her scent was soft and sweet and somehow a bit familiar, just enough to keep Derek from shying away. Derek didn’t know too much about kids but he guessed this one was probably three years old or so, head still oversized in proportion to the short limbs and round little belly.

She seemed fascinated with Derek’s beard, eyes widening further under incredibly thick lashes as she petted Derek’s cheek some more, smoothing down the short stubble. Finally she grinned widely. “Good wuff.”

Derek jerked upright, hands clenching on the edge of his seat. Did she just say?...

“CJ!” The child was suddenly gone, lifted up by a strong, tattooed forearm around her little potbelly. “You scared the he— heck out of me! What have I told you about wandering — Derek?”

i wish i had a river by thepsychicclam

Derek is the editor of a successful publishing firm, and is horrible to all his employees, including Stiles. On Christmas Eve night, he gets visited by three spirits and has to take a look at his life.

aka A Sterek Christmas Carol

Christmas Kisses by Dexterous_Sinistrous

Stiles loves Christmas; he always had and always will. He tries hard to bring Christmas cheer to all the students and their families. There is one student's parent, in particular, who he is trying to impress the most.

Letters to Santa, baking, and mistletoe kisses couldn't prepare Stiles for the Christmas party he knew he'd never forget.

Because Stiles' mom was right: Christmas kisses are a mighty powerful thing.

A Christmas Hale by Captain_Loki

His mouth began forming the word 'no' in a knee jerk reaction, but it died on his lips when he actually looked at Stiles. There was no pity in his face, no sense of moral obligation or charitable intent, he looked...earnest and nervous and so much the sixteen that he was. He realized with a jolt that had his stomach twisting into something that felt nothing like anger that Stiles wasn't asking for Derek's sake.

The boys spend Christmas together. There's copious amounts of sarcasm, some sharing of emotions and somewhere along the lines feelings develop.

The Twenty-Five Gifts of Stiles Stilinski by knw

Everyone knows Stiles only starts stockpiling gifts when he has it bad; now he's started getting gifts for Derek.

A Christmas Retail Story by rlnerdgirl

Derek likes to spend his downtime between book contracts doing something calming, relaxing, and just for him. Unfortunately, this holiday season his sister has other things in mind, which is how he finds himself working in the women's department at Macy's. He might, just a little bit (or maybe a lot), want to kill himself. Or Laura.

The one reprieve he gets is Stiles, the only customer who knows exactly what he wants each and every time he pops in, complete with item number and size. Derek may or may not be developing a crush on him. So it's too bad all Stiles buys are ridiculously expensive things that are, most likely, for his extremely lucky girlfriend.

You Got Us An Ornament by TheRealNightTempest

With the Pack out of town for Christmas and his dad and Melissa on the honeymoon they never had, Stiles plans to craft his way through the holidays to distract himself from being alone. When he realizes his plan isn't as fun by himself, Stiles turns to Derek Hale to help him out as the only other miserable guy left in Beacon Hills at Christmas.

Or the one where Stiles loves Pinterest and forces Derek to help him bake ten different cookies and break out his hot gluing skills. There might be heaping amounts of feels. You have been warned.

With a Little Christmas Magic by Ashabadash

AU: Stiles is jobless this Christmas and as a last resort, is stuck playing one of Santa’s elves at the mall. The job is a bust, and Stiles isn’t really in the Christmas mood, until he finds salvation in the Starbucks at the food court, not only in hiding from kids, but in one very sexy barista named Derek. ((Or: In Wich Stiles in an Elf and Derek is a Christmas Coffee Magician))

Last Christmas by Hepzheba

Last Christmas I gave you my heart, but the very next day you gave it away.

The song is oddly fitting, Stiles thinks as he steps inside the Hale house and sees Derek talking to a dark girl. He's laughing and they're standing way too close to the mistletoe that hangs in the doorway. Derek is wearing a dorky sweater with a red-nosed reindeer. With a pang Stiles remembers last year's sweater with the Santa on it. He feels a churn of jealousy when the girl touches Derek's arm. Stiles has no right to be jealous though, Derek isn't his and never was. They had one (incredible, hot) make out session last year but that was it.