#sad!stiles

[casually-eat-my-soul]

You’d know what be really fucking funny, okay so stick with me but you all know that general idea that stiles has a spark and his spark works on his belief / willpower yes? Yes? Good

Now imagine the saying of “kissing it better” + plus stiles spark.

It’s starts with his mother — whom stiles claimed was magic, but everyone truly believes that their mother is magic. Stiles doesn’t really take it super seriously until after Scott gets bitten and deaton calls stiles a spark — but that’s besides the point.

Anytime stiles got hurt via bump, bruises and cuts, as any rambunctious child would - his mother would help him dry his tears and clean the wound before “kissing it better”.

So stiles just grows up assuming that kissing a wound will make it heal faster. And for all intents and purposes it does, unbeknownst to him because of his and his mother’s magic. But he doesn’t really think to much about it because he’s 1. Not around a lot of injuries and 2. not going around kissing people to help heal them.

Well until Derek fucking hale drops half dead in front of his jeep from a gunshot.

Derek doesn’t know enough about humans to argue with stiles, but he’s still not a hundred percent sure. Especially after he got kissed by him and it healed a gunshot??? That was poisoned with wolfsbane??? He gets ever more confused after he overhears a mother in the grocery store consoling her child by telling them that mom will “kiss it better”.

Peter calls Derek an idiot but never actually confirms or denies anything. Scott isn’t any help because he grew up around stiles and just acclimated to it over time. Sheriff Stilinski just sips his coffee in silence.

[49311grayson]

[TW/Sterek] Pretty Please

Stiles: Please? For me?

Derek, confused: What are you doing with your face?

Stiles, blinking: Nothing. It's just my normal, innocent face. I'm not doing anything.

Derek, frown: Yes, you did. That look on your face. Don't.

Stiles, blinking quickly: Oh! You mean— THIS sad puppy look?

Derek, blushing: Nice try. I won't fall for that.

Stiles: C'mon Der bear, you know you love it and you can't resist.

Derek: No! You think if you say, “please, for me?” and give me that look, I’ll do exactly what you wa-

Stiles, blinking again: Please, for me?

Derek: Damn it! I'm gonna rip whoever taught you that into pieces.

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

Scott： *sneezes*

[heradion]

I'm scared to say I miss you,

Last time I had you I should have kissed you (Sterek off screen ficlet)

As Stiles slowly roused from sleep, he felt a warmth beside him, and upon opening his eyes, he saw Derek resting his head by his side, holding onto his hand. The sight was both surprising and oddly comforting, as if Derek's presence had chased away the remnants of his nightmare.

Stiles groaned, his voice thick with sleep as he sat up, the mattress shifting under him.

Derek stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he noticed Stiles waking. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Stiles apologized.

"It's okay," Derek replied, releasing Stiles's hand and stretching his limbs as he stood up from the chair beside the bed.

Curiosity tugged at Stiles as he watched Derek, wondering why he had chosen to sleep there. "Why'd you sleep here?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Derek paused, his expression thoughtful. "You seemed to have had a nightmare just as you fell asleep," he explained, his voice gentle. "Your heart was beating fast, and you grabbed my arm. You calmed down after that, so I decided to stay."

Stiles felt a pang of warmth in his chest at Derek's concern, mixed with a tinge of guilt for unknowingly disturbing him. "Oh," he murmured, feeling a surge of gratitude towards Derek.

"Why didn't you just sleep on the other side? It's a queen bed," Stiles suggested, his concern evident in his voice.

Derek shook his head. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," he replied simply, his gaze meeting Stiles's.

Stiles felt a swell of appreciation for Derek's consideration but a sense of unease at the thought of him sacrificing his comfort for Stiles's sake. "You could've just woken me up and asked me," Stiles pointed out, feeling a twinge of guilt.

Derek shrugged,"I didn't want to disturb you," he admitted, his gaze softening as he looked at Stiles.

Stiles sighed, feeling a sense of warmth spread through him at Derek's selflessness. "Well, your neck is probably killing you now," he remarked, noticing Derek's discomfort.

Derek rubbed the back of his neck. "It's alright. I'll survive," he assured, though the tension in his muscles betrayed his words as he headed to freshen up a bit.

As Derek stepped out of the bathroom still holding onto his neck, Stiles felt a surge of determination as he watched Derek, knowing he had to do something to help alleviate his discomfort.

"Just sit down," he urged, motioning towards the bed. "I'll massage it a bit."

Derek hesitated, but at Stiles's insistence, he complied, sitting down on the bed as Stiles moved behind him. "Are you sure?" Derek asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Stiles nodded,"I've helped my dad a couple of times, Don't worry" He said trying to hide his nerves.

Derek sat down on the bed while Stiles sat behind him as Derek took off his shirt and Stiles noticed Derek's tattoo, he had nearly forgotten that it was there.

His fingers ached to trace over it resisting the urge, he sighed before saying.

" I'm gonna massage you only near your shoulders and neck okay?" Stiles said as he tentatively placed his hands on Derek's shoulders as Derek nodded.

Feeling the warmth of Derek's skin beneath his fingertips sent a shiver down Stiles's spine as he recalled the dream he had the previous night, but he pushed past his nerves, focusing on helping Derek.

As Stiles's worked out the tension in Derek's muscles, Derek couldn't help but let out a low sigh of relief.

The stress and discomfort seemed to reduce under Stiles's touch, replaced by a warmth that spread through Derek's body.

Stiles pursed his lips nervously, a subtle tension lingered between them, unspoken words hovering in the air like a silent question.

Derek could sense Stiles's nervousness, his movements hesitant yet determined as he continued to massage Derek's neck and shoulders.

Stiles shifted and moved to stand in front of Derek as Derek made some space for him before Stiles's hand moved over to Derek's shoulder avoiding Derek's eyes.

Feeling the weight of Derek's gaze on him, Stiles shifted slightly, meeting Derek's eyes making his heart pace a little faster which Derek undoubtedly could hear.

"You're really good at this" Derek stated, his gaze unwavering.

"Thanks," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper before shifting his focus to Derek's shoulder.

As the silence stretched between them, Derek felt a surge of courage wash over him.

"Stiles?" Derek called out as Stiles replied with a "Hmm?"

"Stiles look at me" Derek said as Stiles felt his heart skip a beat when Derek's fingers gently turned his chin, guiding his gaze to meet Derek's intense stare.

His stomach churned with a mix of nerves and anticipation as he searched Derek's eyes for answers.

"Why does your heart always beat fast when I look at you?" Derek's question hung in the air, heavy with meaning and unspoken emotions.

Stiles hesitated, his mind racing as he struggled to find the right words. He felt a surge of panic rise within him as he turned to leave.

Before he could , Derek grabbed his wrist, pulling him back with a firmness that caught Stiles off guard. Stiles stumbled, nearly losing his balance, but Derek's steady presence anchored him, his hand finding purchase on Derek's shoulders for support.

"Stiles," Derek's voice was gentle yet firm as he moved his hand to hold onto the back of Stiles's knees.

Derek was still seated on the bed his legs parted as Stiles stood between them looking down at Derek.

Stiles sighed "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I want to know the truth" Derek asked looking down at his lips "Are you scared of me? Or is it something else?"

Stiles pursed his lips, his heart pounding in his chest as he summoned the courage to speak. With a deep breath, he finally managed to say, "I'm not… scared of you. It's… It's something else."

Derek's gaze bore into him, the tension between them thickening with each passing moment. "What is it then?" Derek's voice was steady, but Stiles could sense the undercurrent of emotion beneath the surface.

"Derek," Stiles sighed, feeling the weight of his own words pressing down on him.

"Stiles," Derek's voice softened, his eyes pleading and curious. "You can be honest with me."

Stiles met Derek's gaze, his stomach twisting with nerves as he continued. "It's… it's because…" He faltered, the words catching in his throat.

As he looked into Derek's eyes, filled with warmth and understanding, Stiles found the courage to speak .

"It's because I…" He swallowed hard, his voice trembling with emotion. "It's because I care about you, Derek. More than I've ever cared about anyone."

As Stiles bared his heart, his breath caught in his throat, waiting for Derek's response. The air crackled with tension, each heartbeat echoing the anticipation of what was to come.

Derek's eyes softened as he took in what Stiles had just told him. His hands moved to Stiles's hips pulling him closer before saying " I feel the same way about you Stiles. The time I spent away from you made me realise how strong my feelings for you were and...I guess a part of always knew but I pushed it down because...because I didn't want to be like Kate..I didn't want to take advantage of you."

"Derek, You're not her" Stiles said his hands moving to cup Derek's face " You could never be her. I've always felt like we understood each other.. better than most people and I guess I never expected you to feel the same way."

"Of course I do, You're the most caring person I've ever met Stiles." Derek stated one hand moving to caress his cheek.

Stiles leaned into Derek's touch and smiled at him gazing fondly at the man in front of him.

Without hesitation, Derek's hands found their way to Stiles's hips, pulling him closer until their bodies were mere inches apart. And then, with a tender intensity that took Stiles's breath away, Derek leaned in, his lips meeting Stiles's in a sweet, heartfelt kiss.

As they melted into each other's embrace, Derek pulled Stiles into his lap earning a surprised noise from Stiles before he pulled away for a moment.

"I guess you're coming to Beacon Hills with me then?" Stiles asked smiling

"I guess I am" Derek said before leaning in to kiss him again, knowing he now had the chance to create new memories in a place that had previously been overshadowed by loss and grief.

(Part.1) / (Part.2) / (Part.3) /(Part.4) /(Part.5)

[thatonedudeinthecorner]

“It’s…it’s not right. It’s like a….” “An abomination?” UGH I HATE THEM SO MUCH

@tiffanyblewss auagghghhhhhhgghgghhh

[redlioness9876]

[blondwhxrewrites]

"Do you think we will ever recover from this?" 

You had never expected your life to end up like this—total chaos. You'd thought high school was supposed to be fun. It had been at least during freshman year. You had made new friends and gone on crazy little 'adventures' with Scott and Stiles. Then sophomore year happened. 

Abruptly, everything you had once known came crumbling down. Thrown into a world of werewolves and supernatural creatures, you never stood a chance. 

The boy beside you sighed, his head leaning back to rest against the wall. "I don't know," he croaked, his voice cracking. He held your hand, squeezing it—a subtle reminder that he was actually there and that you weren't just conjuring him up in your mind. 

You stared across the room, searching the blank wall of Stiles room for something that wasn't there. "I'm tired, Stiles." 

It felt weird being so numb. Everything around you seemed to pass by, and you were stuck in place. Left behind. 

What were you supposed to do now? Continue living like this. You didn't want that. 

No. 

You wanted Allison back.

You wanted the past two months to disappear like they never happened at all. You wanted your Stiles back, the one who always lit up the room. He was gone, though.

Just like Allison. 

"I don't think I can get through this," you whispered, shifting uncomfortably in the black dress that scratched at your skin. 

The funeral had been beautiful. It's what Allison deserved. Everyone had come to mourn her. You had even seen Coach wiping away a few tears during the burial. Lydia had said a few words. Scott had done an entire speech that had everyone crying in their seats. You had gotten to see your friend one last time. 

She was supposed to be your maid of honor at your wedding one day.

And now she was gone. 

Stiles huffed, smiling bitterly. "I don't think you have a choice." He replied, tilting his head to look at you from where you sat next to him on the floor of his room. 

"Our lives have really turned into a mess," you weakly responded. 

Stiles shrugged, looking back at the ground blankly. "We've come a long way from just being regular teenagers." 

"I guess we are the last two humans of the bunch now." 

Stiles rolled his eyes, and he nudged your shoulder, getting your attention. "Hey, at least we have each other," he said. 

Your lips slowly curled up in a smile, though it was hollow. You squeezed his hand, raising it and pressing a kiss on his knuckles. "Amen to that, Stilinski." 

[marvelnatural4life]

I need to read touch starved Stiles! Any recs? 🙏🏻💖

[weepinglavenders]

I feed off of sweet characters getting such horrible trauma that they wake up screaming.

It’s truly a problem but at least my filters on A03 are easy to find😔😌

[steve-needs-a-hug]

Teen Wolf 1x06 / 1x08

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Stiles coming to the realization that he’s in love with Derek and just resigning himself to it. He knows that this love is different than the way he loved Lydia. It’s deeper and built on devotion and protection. But he’s still not enough,

Derek who is good and persistent, could never love stiles. Stiles knows he loves with people who are always just out of reach for him. He knew this when he fell in love with Lydia in the third grade. He felt it when told his mother that he loved her for the last time. He came to terms with it when he begged his dad to stop drinking, to rest, to eat better. And he resigned himself to it as he watches Derek hale smile. He is in love and knows that Derek will never love him back.

He just can’t imagine a world were Derek hale loves him back in the same way. So Stiles will love him, quietly but fiercely. Derek will never have to worry about anything with Stiles by his side. And Stiles will remain by his side for as long as he can. And maybe one day he’ll be able to watch Derek fall in love with someone else without it feeling like he’s dying but deep down he’s know that will never happen.

[fogsy-feel]

Has this saved as 'Eli2Dads'

yes...I am avoiding drawing Derek and Stiles😅

[quackquackcey]

Tasty

Stiles freaked out afterwards so Derek had to cut him off with another kiss.~ 🐺❣️ (AO3).

For @sterekdrabbles 1/29/24 prompt: ‘sad, milk, kiss’. 100 words. Rated G. Tags: getting together, pining.

Stiles opened the oven just as the front door slid open. 

"...You know my loft isn't a hangout place, right?"

A pang of sadness shot through Stiles' chest, but he shrugged it off. His plan to win Derek's heart through his stomach never worked. "Is that how you should treat someone who baked you cookies?" he retorted.

Derek walked over to where he stood dunking his cookie in milk and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You're right," he said, and then he kissed him.

On the lips.

Stiles froze.

"Thanks," murmured Derek with a lick of his lips. "Tasty."

[dcangel]

SISTER— S.S.

For about a year, Stiles had a sister. He still does, but only the bond remains.

cw; angst, depression, survivor's guilt, no smut, new girl!reader, reader has a crush on stiles. (lowk a yap sesh) 1.9k words

A boy smiled at you from across the room. You’d seen him in your history and chemistry class, which was ironic since you didn’t have any of that with him or his odd friends. He and another boy took turns following each other around like lost puppies— not in the romantic sense. You learned the first boy’s name to be "Stiles" due to the overwhelming warnings and threats from irritated teachers constantly scolding the boy. It was worse when he was with his friends, specifically the boy named Scott.

Scott, you noticed, seemed to have a look of longing hidden behind deep brown irises. His smile never picked up unless others prompted it, and he’d stare off at this tiny ripped piece of paper he would later stow away in his wallet.

Months faded behind your eyes, memories were made, and tears even fell, but you never asked why Scott sometimes looked at his girlfriend, Kira, like he wished her to be someone else or why Stiles sometimes couldn't look at Scott. Those two occurrences were always connected. When heartache would fill Scott's eyes, guilt would flood into Stiles's— but both boys shared grief.

Stiles would endlessly pace around his room, hand on his jaw and white pencil between his fingers. Messy scribbles and smudged lines cluttered his crime/suspect board. Just like his father, stiles was, anyone could see that. A huff here, a frustrated sigh there— his fingers would snap, and he'd swear he figured it out this time, but the lines never met their dots. Stiles told you about a time months ago when walls in his room were covered with pictures and clippings of articles, each connected by different colored strings. Lydia would argue that he only used red, which you later found stood for 'unsolved.'

Lydia was almost the same as the boys— green eyes drifting from her schoolwork and around the room frantically. 'I hear voices,' she would tell you, 'Voices from the past.' Of course, your first thought was that she's insane. What sane person hears whispering voices? Although when you were told the history of your friends and Beacon Hills, you toyed with the notion each of them was a little insane— but rightfully so.

As your friends took turns explaining their own supernatural abilities over school lunch, you turned to the last boy, which you were quite fond of. Stiles. His jaw flapped like a fish's, his chocolate eyes scattering around. He looked to Scott, and at first, you assumed it was Stiles's supernatural instinct to look at his Alpha friend, but when he started to speak, the words didn't stop. He threw out words that didn't go together in an attempt to tell you that he was not, in fact, supernatural like those surrounding you.

'I was, uh... I- How do I-?' He abruptly shut his mouth, his lips pressed to a thin line, not that you were looking at how they moved even when he struggled to push words passed them. He did manage to force a hefty sigh through his nose, though. 'It was an accident- Well, I mean, obviously — Not that you would know —' He shook his head before continuing, but you took note of how the boy couldn't finish a thought without another one barging in. 'I was... possessed by this spirit — evil spirit — who just, uh, well, it brought, y'know... chaos, strife, and pain upon us all, and...' You caught his eyes glance over to Scott, whose gaze was glued to the table. 'Yeah. Yeah, that's it. A lot of people got hurt. Seriously hurt.'

'Some died.' That voice came from Lydia, her face matching Scott's. You had no reason to question if someone close to the group was killed, you didn't know any better. Everything was new to you. Some days, you regretted not asking 'who?'

A man simply called 'Argent' had been inadvertently introduced to you via Stiles and Scott, pondering if he was needed in a new turn of events. 'Something is always going on in this town,' They explained. 'He was a hunter, but he helps us now.' And in your mind, with how little knowledge you held of this new world, you didn't question how they came to know this man.

Your first time meeting him was spontaneous. Stiles had driven you guys to meet Scott at the man's apartment. When the elevator opened and the door creaked with age, boxes caught your eye first, then Argent. His hair was greying, eyes shining with firmness but glossed over with a sense of loss. You've learned it's a look he permanently wears. You were just tagging along, really, following close behind Stiles because you were in a stranger's house, and the boy was your anchor. You weren't equipped with special abilities or senses like your friends, but he kept you tethered to your sanity. You two were the only ones of your friends to be perfectly ordinary humans, and that came with a bond you hoped he thought was special.

You let your eyes wander like they were off-leash animals. Not rabid ones, just curious ones. You often didn't allow yourself to peek around in fear of what you might find. This isn't your world; don't get more involved than you need to. Today, you decided this man was safe. A picture frame sat on Argent's desk the four of you were huddled around. Scott was busy pleading for one last mission before the man moved away for good. Argent was comfortably settled in his position of involvement: none. You could've fully honed in on their conversation and the threats this town faced without someone to stop them, but you were more attuned to the three smiling faces behind the broken glass of a picture frame. Argent, and two women. One had red, short, spiky hair, while the other wore her long, dark brown curls loose with a purple headband. The brunette had deep dimples, long lashes that made you a little jealous, and a brightness you could feel through the glass. She certainly lit up any room she walked in.

You studied what you assumed to be Argent's family, and you wondered why you hadn't seen the brunette around school. She looked young enough to be a high school student, but maybe it was just good genetics.

An elbow in your side broke you free of those thoughts, your curiosities leaving your mind until you're reminded of them days or weeks later. Stiles told you they're ready to head out, and you look to the older man, offering a smile as thanks for his time. He nods at you three, and you leave without a second thought of the two women.

Later in the week, you find yourself at Stiles's house for the sixth time in four days. He's pacing, muttering to himself. You're flat on your back on his bed with your knees up, shoes long disregarded by the front door, picking at your nails. Stiles was always the first one you went to whenever you'd get a fresh set or have them painted. You probably should be going to Lydia since she changes nails like she changes outfits— which most likely costs more than you have in your bank account— but you wished Stiles would react the same way. Sometimes, if the designs were intricate enough, Stiles would grab your hand and bring your fingers closer to his face so he could truly appreciate the amount of detail and dedication. He even paid for your nails once.

A folded scrap of newspaper pinned to his old bulletin board pulled you from your reminiscence. Your stomach softly collided with his jersey sheets when you rolled over to get a proper look— as best you could for the distance, at least. There was no use trying to read the finely printed words distorted by shadows and creases of the old paper, but it was more so the corner of a photograph peeking out behind it that drew you in. You shifted further toward the end of his bed, your neck bending at all sorts of angles in a better attempt at seeing the full photo. Eventually, you huffed in defeat and stood up, Stiles barely showed signs of acknowledgment. A few silent shuffles later, you reached out and touched the bent newspaper, peeling it back to reveal a thumbtack with a red string tied to the handle stuck in the corner of a picture. A picture of the same brown-haired girl you'd completely forgotten about at Argent's house.

You flipped back to the news scrap and skimmed over the text, but it had no relevance to the girl, only mentioning a warrant for an arrest which you immediately recognized as the arsonist, Kate. You recalled briefly hearing her name being mentioned when you went to Argent's house and how she was his sister. You've seen pictures of her online, and this girl wasn't her, she couldn't have been. She looked sweet, her eyes full of life and warmth, something a murderer like Kate couldn't even dream of possessing.

Your first thought was that maybe this girl was Stiles's sister, but that couldn't have made sense because there was also a photo of the girl and a red-haired woman at Argent's house, and there's the fact that her photo is one of the few that remain on Stiles's wrecked corkboard. Unless she was adopted? Maybe the sheriff decided it was too much to take care of two children alone after his wife passed. Argent and the sheriff already seemed to have history, so it was entirely possible except you knew the sheriff would never even think of such a thing.

"I didn't know you have a sister." You felt the words spilling before you even had a chance to rethink your deduction.

The pacing stopped, a pencil clacked against metal. "Huh?"

Suddenly you felt stupid for snooping, the guilt sinking in when you started to speak. "Yeah, this girl here. She— Are you guys related?" You pointed to her photo, comforting eyes and a bright smile staring back at you.

A floorboard cracked, and the shadow on the bulletin board grew as Stiles got closer. You turned to him just in time to catch his eyes connect with her photo. His jaw opened, but there were no words to fill the empty space. You could tell by the way his eyes briefly squeezed shut that her face brought bad memories to light. Maybe she was an ex of his? You truly hoped not since that would mean he's not over her if her picture is still in his room.

"That's- She's-" A sigh of frustration. "Her name is Allison." His eyes dropped, and the guilt he spoke to Scott with re-entered his voice. You hadn't considered the possibility of it being a sensitive subject, and you'd do anything to keep Stiles from being upset with you, but before you had a chance to tell the boy to forget it, Stiles was on the move again.

His hand ran up his forehead, his fingers rubbing at the creases before carding through his hair. "She was Scott's girlfriend, you would've probably loved her." Stiles finally looked up at you for what was probably the first time tonight. "She sacrificed herself to help Scott save me. She shouldn't have... shouldn't've died." You picked up on how he was referring to the time he was possessed by the Nogitsune. His eyes carried so much grief, guilt, and loss. How could a boy so young bear more trauma than most ever would? Still, Stiles read the persistent curiosity in your eyes. "She was my sister, but we're not related."

[joyfulcoffeewizard]

"I'm in the arms of my first love. The first person I ever loved, the person I'll always love. I love you, Scott McCall"

"Does it hurt you as much as it hurts me?..." "Yeah, it does"

THAT'S FINEEE, I DIDN'T NEED TO BE HAPPY- Aiden and Allison dying so close together did not need to happen 😭

The threat of Melissa, Deaton, and Noah all almost dying?!

Also the way the entire second half of season 3 might've been Derek's dream?! (referring to the end of s4e1) Istg this show is gonna be the death of me

Edit: just realized that it was the last episode of season 3, and not the end of the first episode of season four. My bad-

[moonch8ld]

"Did you finally confess to your crush for Valentines?"

Stiles glanced up from his book, making eye contact with Derek.

"No. Maybe next year." He responded with a fake smile.

Frowning, Derek was about to question him when Braeden joined them, greeting Derek with a kiss.

'I was too late...' Stiles thought as he saw the lovingly gaze Derek held for his girlfriend.

(The end... lol 😂) (Sorry for the angst... I was planning a happy ending, but, meh. 😅)

[blue-the-hedgehog]

It’s out !! Finally after a whole year working on it! WOW a year, it feels like 6 month.

Well it’s out, it’s really not on the fun side of the force. I still hope that you will like it !! Just read the TW before starting it !

And it’s based on Don’t let the light go out by Panic! At the disco

This light is out!

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Major Character Death

Fandom:Teen Wolf (TV)

Chapters:9/9

TW : This fanfic include : Major character’s death, mention of abuse and mistreatment on kids.

Summary:

It was supposed to be an easy fight. Like all the ones they had done. He was supposed to come back home definitively. They were supposed to live forever together. To be surrounded by their family and pack. But here he was, looking at his Mate, pleading to all the gods, asking for one favor: Don't let the light go out!