#derek hale

[anonazure]

My warm up before starting a new spicy commission...

[incorrectsterekquotes]

boyd: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco. erica: My life is a little too much fall out and not enough boy. isaac: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance stiles: My life is a little too much imagination and not enough dragons. derek: *tired* All I asked was how your weekend was.

[marvelsgirl616]

Derek in season 1

[starry-eyed-stray]

i'd like to apologize to anyone who followed me after i wrote one (1) sterek fic expecting more sterek content from me. i'm sorry but i'm a huge lurker in the teen wolf fandom so i rarely make any content.

take this sterek drawing as a formal apology

this is my first time drawing sterek ever. pls don't roast me if it doesn't look like them

[emryslore]

Sterek Fic Recs

Tag: Protective!Derek

If you'd like to request a list of recs from me just shoot me an ask and ill get back to you asap!!

Now lets get right into this!! Please Enjoy!

The Mummy (M) 28K (12/?) by killmesoftly_s

Inspired by my all time favorite movie, The Mummy (1999) When Scott, -Stiles’ step brother and best friend-brings him a key found within a Pharohs crypt depicting the curse of the infamous city; Hamunaptra, a trip is set. It’s in Cairo that the rugged and frustratingly handsome Derek Hale, who is the only living man to know how to find the city of the dead, promises to take him. Death is only the beginning and Stiles is ready for his adventure, stupid hunters and curses be damned. Rated mature for one detailed sex scene.

Autumn comes when you're not yet done (NR) 5.6K (1/1) by Lord_potato

The wolf (Canis lupus) is a mammal of the canine family. Biologically speaking, it is the same species as the domestic dog. The wolf is the largest canine living in the wild. Out of all the northern predators, the wolf is the most social species that prefers to live in packs formed by family units. extract: Werewolves. Fucking werewolves. His son had been hanging out with werewolves and had been fighting werewolves and had been lying about it all to him for longer than he realised. or the fic where Noah Stilinski finds out about werewolves and slowly gets used to being part of the pack.

Matryoshka(s) (E) 23K (5/5) by Gege_from_the_void_89

Stiles becomes known as Koschei when his father gets killed by a woman going by the nickname of Babayaga, and when the boy starts to plan how to avenge his father, the Russian mafia gets brought in sooner than later, till all his plan comes down to one single person he has to charm: Derek Hale. Will Stiles be able to get revenge for his father? Will he be able to handle something that wasn’t part of the plan?

Twilight (E) 67K (2/2) by Hedwig221b

Derek. Stiles thought about him the most. Something told him that it wasn’t the last time, far from it. He thought about his softness and his open desire to kill. Stiles’ hands remembered the heat of his hands. His neck longed to feel the coating warmth of Derek’s breath. His lips burned from the kiss that never happened. Everything was so fucking complicated. Except one thing. It was the only clear thought in his head. The one that made his stomach clench from fear, his heart stutter from hope, and his lips stretch in a smile. He was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Derek.

We Ain’t Angry At You, Love. You’re The Greatest Thing We’ve Lost. (NR) 33K (9/12) by Christell_Nobody

Since Void, so much has happened. His dad is still just as neglectful, and now all his friends just stopped all contact. Derek and Peter left. If it wasn’t for Melissa and Jordan he’d be drowning and probably dead. After his 16th birthday he makes a decision, Melissa and Jordan help him and are supportive, a bit heartbroken but understanding. Noah doesn’t even care what he’s signing. Doesn’t care he signed his parental rights away, but was he ever a parent? With promises to keep contact, he is off. “So pack up your car, put a hand on your heart.”

Yes To Heaven (E) 85K (2/2) by Hedwig221b

Stiles ruined him. The damage was irreparable. He didn’t want the food that wasn’t made by Stiles or shared with him; the water tasted stale; the clothes were asphyxiating and scratchy; the air was wrong, wrong without Stiles’ scent in it. Fuck, what was wrong with him? How could that pretty little thing change him so much? He had an iron grip on his control before, being in tandem with his instincts, but within weeks, all of it was gone. As soon as he thought of Stiles, though, of his scent, his moans, and the little wrinkle on his forehead as he orgasmed, his mind settled. What was life before Stiles? Everything was somewhere far, far away, forgotten, bleak, and meaningless. Derek thought he knew what light was as he looked at the microscopic dots of the stars above. Then Stiles came into his life and showed him the sun.

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Invisible String

Teen Wolf » Sterek

Title: Invisible String

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Teen Wolf (Masterlist)

Relationship: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: In the aftermath of the nogitsune, Stiles takes up knitting at the suggestion of his therapist, and is surprised to find how much it helps him — and Derek — heal.

"Here's your hat," Stiles says with a half-hearted attempt at nonchalance, opting for playful banter in the hope that it'll ease some of the tension. "I would've finished it sooner, but some asshole snuck in through my window and scared me so bad I dropped half the stitches." He expects a smirk, a sarcastic quip, a long-suffering sigh followed by a theatrical eye-roll in response. What he doesn't expect is the vulnerable quiver in Derek's lower lip as he fixes Stiles with a stunned expression, eyebrows pulled together in a way that makes Stiles's heart physically clench inside his chest, and says, in the softest voice Stiles has ever heard, "You made this for me?" The following evening, Derek shows up wearing the hat Stiles made him, a tightly-wound ball of yarn and a set of knitting needles clutched in his hands as he tentatively holds them out to Stiles like a peace offering, and says, "Teach me?"

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr:

In the aftermath of the whole possession by an ancient trickster demon thing, the one thing Stiles doesn't expect to hear from his in-the-know therapist is that he should consider taking up a hobby — something crafty and creative — to occupy his time. He does his best to suppress a snort of laughter but it's a near miss, insisting that he just doesn't have the patience for it. 

Just give it a try, she says, and that's how Stiles begrudgingly finds himself in front of his laptop, scrolling down a Buzzfeed list of the top ten crafts guaranteed to reduce stress and anxiety.

It goes about as well as he'd expected. 

His first (and last) attempt at baking nearly burns down the kitchen. 

Every surface of his bedroom turns into some kind of viral rainbow (no matter where he sits or what he touches, his hands, his hair, and the back of his jeans are always covered) as he proceeds to drip paint everywhere but the canvas. 

Origami ends in a mountain of the saddest looking swans the world has ever seen, crumpled up with varying octaves of frustrated sighs and volleyed into the trash bin with a fist pump and a victorious shout of score one, Stilinski! 

He can't draw for shit, even his stick figures have Scott and Lydia squinting like the worst game of Pictionary. 

He hasn't got a steady enough hand for calligraphy, and more often than not, the pen just ends up stuck between his teeth as he loses himself down a Sporcle rabbit hole. 

All of his short stories end up reading like police reports. 

He nearly impales his thumb on a needle when he tries out his mom's old sewing machine. 

His dad comes home one night with a barrage of complaints from the neighbors claiming there's a cult of angry cats terrorizing the neighborhood when Stiles attempts to learn how to play the cello.

He's about ready to give up when he turns the corner at the local craft store and ends up in an aisle filled with rows upon rows of brightly colored, plushy bundles of yarn. He glances at the display sample of a cozy looking hat, eyes darting to the bright blue wool-acrylic blend of thick, soft yarn right in front of him, and then back up toward the hat, wondering just how difficult it would be to make one of his own. Might be nice with the winter months coming up. 

He dithers for a moment before heaving a resigned sigh and grabbing a skein of the blue yarn, because blue is just pretty, and a set of knitting needles in the recommended size, and brings them up to the register, rationalizing that at least if this endeavor doesn't go well, all he'll be left with is tangled string, novelty chopsticks, and a wallet that's $11 lighter.

• • •

He picks it up surprisingly quickly. One week, a couple of YouTube tutorials, and a series of bookmarked Pinterest tabs detailing beginner projects, and he's already mastered garter, stockinette, and single rib stitch, and has about a dozen swatches scattered across his room. 

Even more surprising is how much he finds he genuinely enjoys it. Likes the fact that it keeps him calm, keeps him grounded. Gives his restless hands something to do, his racing mind something to focus on. Likes the fact that, once he gets the basic beginner stitches down, he can just zone out and get lost in the gentle clicking of the knitting needles, the rhythmic repetition of his hands working to create a new series of interlocking loops, a creative distraction to dive into whenever the guilt and panic of everything that's happened over the last couple of months threatens to overwhelm him.

His first official project is a bunny knit from a single stockinette square, seamed and stuffed with poly-fil, gifted to his therapist as a sort of thank you for pushing him to try something new.

• • •

He finds his gaze drifting toward Derek late one night at a pack meeting, mapping out and lingering over all the worrying little details of his body language — the tense line of his shoulders, eyebrows set in a semi-permanent crease, lips pulled into a pensive frown, fingertips digging into the underside of the worn wooden table hard enough to leave indents — and finds himself wondering if Derek has got any secret stress-reducing hobbies, if maybe he could benefit from having a creative outlet the same way Stiles has been.

He tries to imagine Derek taking up knitting, and has to fight to suppress the fond little flutter that stirs inside his chest at the image of Derek with a half-finished scarf splayed across his lap, yarn wrapped around his stupidly big, strong hands as he works them in an intricate pattern, the two of them sitting side by side on the couch, watching movies and working on projects together; has to bite back a bout of giddy laughter at the idea of Derek talking shop about his favorite stitch patterns, wandering down craft store aisles with a mountain of brightly colored, kitten soft skeins clutched in his arms, arguing the merits of aluminum vs. bamboo, cotton vs. wool, with those big surly eyebrows of his, as Stiles strolls along beside him. It's so absurdly soft and domestic that Stiles can't contain the longing sigh that spills out of his mouth at the thought of it.

Derek's eyes snap up in his direction, narrowing in equal parts curiosity and concern, and Stiles is so fucked because there's no way Derek hadn't heard the little stutter in his heartbeat just now, hadn't caught him staring, open-mouthed and shameless, with this stupid overly fond lovesick expression on his face, when he was supposed to be paying attention to Scott's detailed report of his recent perimeter patrols, and taking notes on the newest potential monster of the week he's apparently responsible for researching. 

And because his body is an absolute traitor, he can feel the telltale prickle of white hot heat creeping up the back of his neck and sprawling across his entire face like a goddamn sunburn, and oh god, there's no way Derek isn't piecing it all together, no way he isn't going to figure it out, no way Stiles will be able to keep his stupid little crush of his a secret if he keeps this up.

He attempts to salvage the moment with what he hopes is a friendly smile and a nonchalant nod, but judging by the way Derek's eyebrows hike high enough to get altitude sickness, it probably comes across as more of a flail and a manic grimace.

Which is just so great.

Yup. Fucking nailed it.

• • •

And yeah, it probably wouldn't help the whole pretending he's not secretly in love with a sourwolf thing if he were to randomly surprise Derek with a handmade knitted hat out of absolutely nowhere, but like — look — the color combination of that super soft merino wool featured every single fleck of Derek's eyes down to the exact shade, which is just…yeah. Super pretty. So like, he couldn't just not get it.

As is Stiles's luck, he can't even keep the hat itself a secret, because a few days after the pack meeting, Derek comes swooping in through his bedroom window while he's right in the middle of a round of decreases, causing him to shriek bloody murder and drop half a row of stitches in the process.

He makes a floundering attempt to shove the half-finished hat underneath his pillow, but of course, Derek's reflexes are faster (motherfucking werewolves) and he snags it out of Stiles's hands before he's even made it halfway across the room, staring down at it intently, running his fingers across the delicate little interlocking arrows, a flicker of a smile threatening to break across his face as he looks up and fixes Stiles with a curious expression.

"New hobby?" he asks, his tone uncharacteristically light, and Stiles prepares himself for the inevitable onslaught of derisive comments and mockery, because apparently he can't just have this one nice thing.

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles sighs with a weary roll of his eyes. "Make fun of me all you want, but we'll see who's laughing when I single-handedly defeat the next big bad with my killer dexterity and refined upper-body strength."

Derek's lips twist into a frown, brows creasing in frustration.

"I'm not making fun of you," he says solemnly, all traces of lighthearted banter vanishing as he takes a tentative step forward and places the set of circular needles into Stiles's hands with a measurable gentleness.

"Oh," Stiles says softly, all defensiveness rushing out of him on the next breath, awed by the fact that Derek looks genuinely offended by the assumption that he would tease Stiles over something like this. "Okay, well…good. Because I'm actually really liking learning how to knit so far."

He holds Derek's gaze long enough to catch a thoughtful hum in response, and then he's stumbling backward into his rolly chair with all the grace of a mountain troll, breathing out a nerve-addled huff as he refocuses his attention on the project clutched in his hands. 

There's a soft creak of leather and bedsprings as Derek perches on the edge of Stiles's bed, watching with rapt interest as Stiles sets to work fixing the dropped stitches, mesmerized by the subtle flex of his forearms, the delicate twist of his long, nimble fingers as Stiles slips the little stitch marker from one needle to the other to start a new row. 

They sink into a companionable silence, the only sound the gentle click of the knitting needles, the steady rise and fall of his focused, meditative breathing, peppered with the occasional murmured mantra of knit one, purl one as Stiles sticks his tongue between his teeth, brow furrowed in concentration as he deciphers what type of stitch he's supposed to make next.

"So, what made you decide to take up knitting?" Derek's voice rings out across the room, head tilted to the side as Stiles produces a thick blunt-tipped needle and begins threading the working yarn through the last few live stitches of the crown.

"Well," Stiles sighs, tension coiling in his shoulders as he struggles to split his concentration. Because this is the most crucial part. Mess this part up and the whole thing unravels. "It started out as a suggestion from my therapist, actually. She figured I needed something— some nice, simple, normal thing — to occupy my time, help take my mind off things…something that isn't just endless research and round-the-clock panic attacks over the supernatural nightmare my life has become ever since—"

There's a sharp intake of breath and a soft, barely audible noise like a wounded animal, and Stiles glances up to find Derek staring a hard line into the floor, looking crestfallen.

"Hey," Stiles says consolingly, offering Derek an apologetic smile, and quickly amending. "Present company excluded, of course."

Derek huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes, but the tension in his shoulders eases considerably.

"So I tried out a bunch of stuff, which I totally sucked at, by the way," Stiles continues, pulling the working yarn taut to close the opening at the top of the hat. "Everything from baking, to painting, to sewing, to trying to learn how to play an instrument — Dad practically had to beg me to return the cello I rented out from the school — before I just kind of accidentally stumbled across knitting…which, it turns out, I'm actually pretty good at."

"I like it," Stiles adds after a moment's pause. "I like that it's both relaxing and productive. I like working with my hands, being able to make things."

"I like…" he trails off, throat suddenly tight as he fights off the familiar sting in the corners of his eyes. "I like the fact that, after everything that's happened, I still have the ability to create beautiful things."

His fingers tremble as he works to weave the yarn tail through the last column of stitches, and he has to pause to catch his breath. He chances a glance over at Derek, and is struck with a low swooping sensation in the pit of his stomach at the sight of him staring down at his open palms with an intense expression on his face, so achingly familiar that Stiles knows, without a shadow of a doubt, what he must be thinking in that moment — that the two of them share something no one else in the pack will ever truly be able to understand— that every time they look down at their own hands, they're seeing the same thing: the sharp skewer of a set of claws; the slow twist of a sword; phantom blood clinging to such delicate things made into weapons against their will.

The finished hat lands in Derek's hands a minute later, effectively snapping him out of his downward spiral. He blinks down at it a few times, looking utterly bewildered, before his gaze flickers back up toward Stiles, eyebrows arched in question.

"Here's your hat," Stiles says with a half-hearted attempt at nonchalance, opting for playful banter in the hope that it'll ease some of the tension. "I would've finished it sooner, but some asshole snuck in through my window and scared me so bad I dropped half the stitches."

He expects a smirk, a sarcastic quip, a long-suffering sigh followed by a theatrical eye-roll in response. What he doesn't expect is the vulnerable quiver in Derek's lower lip as he fixes Stiles with a stunned expression, eyebrows pulled together in a way that makes Stiles's heart physically clench inside his chest, and says, in the softest voice Stiles has ever heard, "You made this for me?"

"Well, yeah," Stiles says as he ducks his head to attack a phantom itch on the back of his neck, heat rising in the hollows of his cheekbones. "It — you know — it matches your eyes, or whatever."

Derek stares at him for a moment longer before his gaze drifts back down to the little hat woven with all the colors of the forest, cradling it in his hands like it's the most precious thing in the world.

• • •

The following evening, Derek shows up wearing the hat Stiles made him, a tightly-wound ball of yarn and a set of knitting needles clutched in his hands as he tentatively holds them out to Stiles like a peace offering, and says, "Teach me?"

And yeah, maybe Stiles's heart does that same little flutter on a much grander scale when, several months down the line, the two of them exchange Christmas gifts, only to realize they've knitted each other matching scarves.

[kaicha05]

Stiles: "Why are you awake? It's barely morning."

Derek: "Werewolves are naturally attuned to sunrise."

Stiles: "Or you're just old."

Derek: "I'm not old."

Stiles: "Says the guy who groans like a grandpa every time he stands up."

Derek: "You're one smart-ass comment away from me hiding your car keys."

Stiles: "Joke's on you-l lost them two days ago."

[twdxtrevor]

How so many had the ability to hurt him is beyond me, like just look at that cute smile . .

[shieldofiron]

Stiles: So.... Derek doesn't know how to hide his internet searches. Also I'm jealous of who this is about.

[blaksstr]

Stiles: "Okay, but let’s be real—Derek is basically Hopper. Broody, emotionally constipated, but secretly a softie."

Derek: "I’m not—"

Peter: "No, no, he’s right. You even have the dad vibes now."

Scott: "Wait… does that make Stiles El?"

Stiles: "Please. I’m way more of a Steve Harrington. Hot, funny, and great with kids—"

Liam: "You literally let me almost die last week."

[anonazure]

This was suppose to be art for Valentines Day, but I got busy in real life and commission and only had free time to finish this now.

Welp, better late than never...

[takaraphoenix]

Peter saying ‘you must be stiles’ always makes me giggle because I always picture Derek at his bedside complaining about Stiles to Peter. In my head Derek is the reason Peter begins his obsession with Stiles.

Okay listen, for any fanfic take that would 100% check out. Love that.

I just still need a CANON explanation though. Because canon!Derek did NOT sit at his uncle's bedside. Canon!Derek did not consider his comatose uncle human anymore, he wouldn't have sat at his side. So Peter can't have heard about Stiles from Derek.

I need to know how Peter learned about Stiles.

[abibliphobiac]

Guys, I hate to break it to you, but I’m rewatching Teen Wolf as an adult and:

-Derek isn’t an interesting or even good character til like season 3

-Isaac and Allison shouldn’t have been a thing (but could’ve been something w Scott 👀)

-Boyd and Erica should’ve had more time and been flushed out more

-Kora felt very thrown-in and wasn’t given any respect frfr

-Isaac my Beloved sassy man you are missed every scene you’re not present

-ALL of the characters should have been flushed out more (but oh well, ig that’s what fanfic is for)

-Peter pisses me The Fuck off

-The storylines are so ???

-Some of the scenes are corny as HELL

-Some of the scenes are COLD AS FUCK bruh

-Stiles and Malia were actually really great together imo

-Malia is so fuckin funny on god

-Dylan O’Brien is. THE actor fr

-I really like Scott and Lydia’s friendship and would’ve liked it to be explored more 💕 (platonically)

-Stiles needed the time away from Lydia to love her in a way that wasn’t toxic or obsessive (and yet still has some concerning tendencies)

-EVERY. SINGLE. FEMALE. CHARACTER. Deserved so much more development and time without a male counterpart. Period.

-Especially Kira, Braeden, and Lydia

-PUT SOME RESPECT ON KIRA and please 🧎🏻‍♀️ let overpowered characters BE OP and not two hits and down fr

-I need more Dread Doctors content in my life for Reasons™️ and I will not be elaborating unless asked

-Theo is a character that exists almost solely in The Grey and y’all ain’t ready to have a civil conversation about how well Cody played the nuances of him

-Hayden is fine, Hayden and Liam is ? such a high school relationship I can’t complain but I don’t love

-the beast was 🤣

-Ducalien👌🏼 (but not the cgi)

-Theo and Liam are a Fantastic duo, romantic or not (but they should’ve been canon ngl)

-We deserved more Mason content TBH

-(and more puppy pack in general)

And so much more that I can’t articulate at the moment.

[owiil]

Derek as Superman and Stiles as Red Hood (let’s be honest, there’s no way Stiles is not going to brutalize and murder the truly vile guys who deserve it).

Supes!Derek and Red Hood!Stiles dealing with the same enemy/issue.

Supes!Derek trying to convince Red Hood!Stiles that murder is not the solution. Red Hood!Stiles laughing at Supes!Derek’s adorable nativity.

Supes!Derek ultimately getting his way out of literal brute strength. Red Hood!Stiles being very unhappy with that. But Supes!Derek is all up in his business and it’s hotter than Red Hood!Stiles could have thought (and he’s thought of it a lot).

Supes!Derek mildly disappointed in himself for being obsessed with Red Hood!Stiles. What?! He’s only… okay. Not human, but a dude, and Red Hood!Stiles is ridiculously hot in that costume.

[jos-corner-of-the-world]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63196102/chapters/161894380

If You're Lost You Can Look and You Will Find Me

Chapter 3: Flashbacks, warm nights...almost left behind

Currently 3/? 12,423 words

Derek left once the Nogitsune had been defeated, needing to get away from that god forsaken town. 18 year old Stiles is just trying to get through the rest of his senior year without killing his 'best friend' Scott... and missing Derek too much. Stiles goes home one day to find a young man sitting on his bed with no idea how he got there. "Derek?!"