#some of us are human;; Stiles Stilinski | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

patolemus · 7 months ago

Text

Sterek fic recs: High School AU Edition

In honor of my conversation with @darling-winnie about same age!Sterek, as well as my promise to @oldefashioned, here are some high school au recs!

1. Double Cherries (And 'Extra' Hoodies) by undercoverbastard

“No, no - wait - don’t tell me,” Stiles suddenly said, leaning forward and grinning at the boy directly on his right, eyes gleaming with joy and mischief as he spoke. “You want… a salmon burger, swiss, with fruit, and a vanilla shake. Eh?”

Derek scowled, shoving his menu at Stiles as he slumped back. “No,” he said plainly. Stiles pouted.

“Too bad! That’s what I’m penning you in for, Eyebrows,” Stiles said, scribbling on his notepad as he stood and began to walk away. Derek huffed, opening his mouth to give Stiles his actual order, but the only word he got out was ‘I’ before Stiles waved him off without even looking back at Derek or down at the notepad, stride unbroken, as he recited:

“Double cheeseburger, half swiss, half cheddar, no pickles, curly fries, side honey mustard, strawberry milkshake, extra thick, double cherries.”

+.+.+

OR: alive hale family, alive claudia, and high school friends stiles/derek - all wrapped into one, based on a joke from a TV show i watched when i was 7, and then got wildly out of control!

Notes: adorable, I love their banter and the conection they have. Alive!Hale family is always such a treasure, and Claudia and Talia's friendship is great here. It's completed.

2. i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me) by bleepobleep

Derek gets in an accident and loses a few years of his memory; suddenly everything is different— he's not a freshman loser anymore, but a popular senior, captain of the basketball team, a shoo-in for prom king, too, and he should have everything he's ever wanted— except he doesn't seem to be friends with Stiles anymore.

Notes: Derek is not having a good time. Pookie just wants to be with his best friend but it turns out they're not best friends anymore and the world doesn't make sense because of it. A little angsty but it all works out. It's completed.

3. Don't Kiss and Tell by Hedwig221b

Paige has finally got the boyfriend she always wanted. The only thing is, said boyfriend doesn't touch her, doesn't kiss her and spends all his time with Stiles Stilinski. You'd think they were dating, or something...

Notes: When I tell you I go feral for this au every single time I read it! Hedwig has the best unhinged obsessive sterek fics and I'll swear on that, don't even try to change my mind. Poor Paige is definitely being led on here, and both Derek and Stiles are assholes in this one, but they're in love and they're completely devoted to each other, so it's okay (I know it doesn't make sense now, but it will. Trust). It's completed.

4. But Then What... by Stoney

Senior year is almost over, and all Stiles needs to do is keep his head down to survive. A teacher calls in a favor, leaving him stuck tutoring Derek Hale, one of the most popular jocks in school and a member of a group of douchecanoes who have bullied Stiles for years. He's someone Stiles totally hates. Totally. Like, doesn't like him even a little bit. DEFINITELY isn't attracted to him.

Except that is a total lie. Fuck his life, seriously.

Notes: Typical Jock/Nerd enemies to lovers only it's Stiles being incredibly paranoid and angsty all of the time lol. They both had me shaking my head because my babies truly don't know how to communicate, but we got there! Eventually. It's completed.

5. Just The Same by foxlavander

Something is seriously up with the captain of the lacrosse team. There's just no way Derek Hale is human. *** “I was wondering if you're even human. You move so quickly. I mean, it's ridiculously fast. No human should be able to move that fast, y'know? It's unfair for us. I mean, it's obvious you work out, and I don't, so that could be why, but like...I was just wondering if you were human, that's all.” “Stop talking, Stilinski, or I'll—” “Put me on the bench all season?” Stiles asks knowing full well that Derek Hale can't threaten him with shit.

Notes: This one is so good. Stiles is onto you, Derek! But seriously, they're so awesome in this one. And Derek bakes and he wants to open up a bakery and it's adorable. I love them and I love the Hales, everything is great. Look out for the werewolf reveal! It's completed.

6. The In Which Stiles Is Secretly Magic series by apocryphal

All Stiles wants from life is to learn to control his magic, keep his grades up, and not die horribly while saving Beacon Hills from supernatural threats. It's all going pretty well until Derek Hale, werewolf extraordinaire, has to go and ask him on a date. That asshole.

Notes: The lore for magic users in here is honestly so good. Love the world building! The Hales are alive in this one as well, which for me is always a plus. A little bit (maybe more than a little bit) angsty but it ends well. There's a few things going on, but basically Stiles is basically Deaton's apprentice and there are Rules(TM) he has to follow as a magic user. He's pretty badass though! The series is technically not finished, but both parts in the series are completed.

7. cheer up, babe by graveltotempo

He was the basketball captain. And he was a cheerleader. Can I make it any more clear? OR: Derek Hale thought he had his crush on Stiles Stilinski under control. And then Stiles decided to show up to school in a skirt.

Notes: Derek spends all 20k words thirsting over Stiles, as he should. Stiles gets to wear a skirt and be generally awesome. They are disgustingly sweet together.

8. Made Your Mark on Me (A Golden Tattoo) by writteninthewolfstar

Beacon Hills High and Lycan Heights High are well-known enemies. Derek Hale, Lycan Heights' star quarter-back, is well-known for being aggressive and arrogant. Imagine Stiles surprise when he discovers that Derek Hale is actually his soul-mate.

Notes: This one is very sweet. There's insecure Stiles and absolutely lovely Derek. It's abo with Omega!Stiles and Alpha!Derek, and it's actually pretty wholesome. Derek is like public enemy number one of BHHS and a jock, Stiles is a loner, and when they turn out to be soulmates they have to navigate what that means for it. It has 13 out of 14 chapters, last updated in March of 2024.

9. too busy being yours to fall for somebody else by whiry

Stiles, worried that Scott may actually leave him behind because of his newfound popularity, is desperate to cling to something away from the drama of Lydia Martin's amazing parties and the woes of high school lacrosse. What he finds is Derek Hale, a guy who seemingly hates Stiles at first, but slowly, and insistently, becomes friends with him. As their friendship grows, Stiles starts to wonder if they could ever become something more or if pushing what they have will lead him to being alone for good.

Notes: Also very sweet! It's strangers to friends to lovers, and Stiles falls out of love with Lydia without even realizing because he's fallen in love with Derek. The Hales are alive in this one, yay! The way sterek bonds over music is also so good! It's completed.

10. Stupid Over You by Wolfspurr

It's a Friday night, and instead of enjoying any of the numerous things he'd rather be doing, Stiles has been roped into dinner with his dad at the Hale's. On the plus side, Derek Hale will be there. On the minus side, Derek Hale will be there, and Stiles already has a hard enough time not making an ass of himself in front of the hottest guy in school. There's no way this can end well.

Notes: Overall amazing fic! Stiles is his oblivious awkward self that we all know and love, Derek is completely smitten with him. All this wrapped up in a dinner with the Hales and the Stilinskis. That's it, that's the fic. It's completed.

11. Six Minutes by CosmoKid

“What do you want?” Derek practically grows when Stiles is near enough to hear. He can definitely feel the werewolf vibes coming from the guy as well as the fuck off vibes that roll off him in tsunami-sized waves. Stiles has one thing he needs to say to Derek, but he also has eight million questions to ask him about the werewolf thing and he can barely sort out his thoughts as it is, let alone when there’s a ridiculously attractive werewolf who’s basically Adonis staring at him. Derek takes another drag of his cigarette and raises his eyebrows at Stiles expectantly. He shivers and blurts out, “Six minutes.” That makes Derek smirk, but it’s so condescending that even Harris would be impressed. “No offense, Kitten,” Derek starts and Stiles just narrows his eyes at the nickname. Derek keeps his eyes trained on Stiles as if to dare him to challenge the nickname. Stiles bites his tongue and resists it. “But you’re not really my type.”

Notes: This is not your typical high school au, but it's a nice change of pace. It's got werewolves, which we love, and bad boy Derek. Stiles stood no chances lol. It's completed.

12. The covalent bonds series by HaldFizzbin

Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that's ever happened to him.

Notes: I went on a little Nerd!Derek and Jock!Stiles fixation the other day so here we have it. Derek is awkward and funny and insecure and we love him. Stiles is Stiles, and he's awesome. The series is not finished, but all the parts of the series are complete.

13. It's Always Been You, Dumbass by stilinskisparkles

“Alright, cool, we should go,” Stiles says breezily, dusting off his hands as he stands. “We should?” “Yeah!” “But… Do you even care about photography?” “Not as much as I should,” Stiles plants both his hands on the table, bracketing Derek in, “You’ll have to correct my miscreant ways.”

Notes: Stiles is helplessly pining, Derek is painfully oblivious and the absolute last to find out. Somehow, they still go on like three dates together. It's pretty great, and it's completed.

14. can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time? by whirl

There's something strange about Beacon Hills. Stiles can't really put his finger on it, but the way certain classmates look at him at school and the way certain adults look at him in the grocery store has him curious. And it's not the sort of pitying looks that his mom's coworkers used to give him, but these ones are longer, more searching, like they're looking for something. Not to mention the weird noises that sometimes come from the woods when he runs, too human to be animal and too animal to be human. Plus the way the Hales have seemed to sequester themselves to the wild and give Stiles serious Cullen family vibes. But Stiles, like everyone else apparently, ignores it. Until it becomes too great to ignore and he has to investigate for himself and find out what is actually going on in Beacon Hills. +++ Or, the one where Stiles and Derek meet, hate each other, slowly get to know one another, and fall totally head over heels for each other all while avoiding curious classmates, an angry ex-girlfriend, and, oh yeah, imminent death.

Notes: This one is kinda crazy but in a good way! It's 120k words long so be prepared for that, and Stiles finds out about werewolves. Derek, pookie, I'm rooting for you all the way! Also Cora, my beloved. I adore her. Stiles is pretty confused all the time for a while there. It's completed.

15. scary stories and roasted goods by graveltotempo

“I have more, you know?” grumbled Jackson, clearing his throat. “Okay, fine. Here’s another; a man goes is staying at a hotel for the weekend. On his way to his room, he notices a door with no number on it-” “An albino woman with white skin and red eyes committed suicide in that room years ago,” finished Erica, inspecting her nails with a smirk. “We know that too.” “A babysitter goes to put two children to sleep in their room and notices a large creepy clown statue in the corner-” he tried again. “Get out of the house, we don’t have a clown statue,” said Allison, tried to hide a laugh at the flustered expression on Jackson’s face. “Two roommates in a room. Sarah says that she wants to go to a party and Mary wants to stay home-” “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn the lights on?” said Derek, and Stiles laughed, looking at him with sparkling eyes. OR the cheerleading squad, the lacrosse team and the basketball team go camping.

Notes: Another cheerleader!Stiles and Jock!Derek. I love them your honor. It's all very sweet and Derek pines as he ought to do lol. Don't worry, there's light at the end of the tunnel. It's completed.

That's all I have for this one. I probably have more in my TBR but I guess we'll find out. If I ever get there. My sterek TBR only ever grows and I never seem to be able to finish fics as fast as I find them lol. Hope you guys like these!

#I love high school aus #they give me life #love it when their biggest worry is passing their classes and going out on dates #and not whether or not the monster of the week is going to eat them #high school au #sterek #fic recs #sterek fic recs #ao3 #stiles stilinski #derek hale #eternal sterel #eternalsterek #teen wolf

386 notes · View notes

wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 9 months ago

Note

What is THE Sterek fic that everybody knows (and loves) in the fandom?

This is way too hard for one person to answer. What do ya'll think? I bet there's so many different answers. Let us know in the replies!

We got lots of comments! I'm going to be adding them slowly so give me a minute ok.

From @lololovescheese:

Move A Mountain by ZainClaw

(9/9 I 69,005 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles goes camping with his friends in New Mexico after graduation where they befriend a biker gang led by Derek: a guy whom Stiles can’t decide if he will be either relieved or devastated to never see again once their week is up.

AND

@pathsofpassion had a whole bunch!

Sum of it's Parts by kouriarashi

Wolf in the House by JoeLawson

(1/1 I 33,481 I Teen I Sterek)

“What? It’s totally an improvement. He’s not scowling, or dating bad guys, or slinking around in unsanitary places. Still a bit paranoid, but what can you do. At least he’s a lot easier to get along with when you can buy his affections with ear rubs.”

“And you always wanted a dog,” Sheriff added wryly.

“And I always wanted a dog.”

Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain

(1/1 I 35,197 I Teen I Sterek)

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.”

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly.

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding:

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

The Importance of Turning Around Three Times Before Lying Down by otter

(10/10 I 40,293 I Teen I Sterek)

It’s like this dog has walked out of all of Stiles’ childhood dreams and into the real world just because Stiles wanted it hard enough. He is the most awesome dog ever, and he and Stiles have a bond. A deep, unbreakable bond because this animal is his soul mate, obviously. Now he just has to convince the dog of that.

Hunger by DiscontentedWinter

(27/27 I 55,382 I Mature I Sterek)

Beacon Hills. Two lost souls. A homeless boy, a lone wolf, and people who will stop at nothing to destroy them both.

(Sacred) In the Ordinary by idyll

(9/9 I 78,759 I Explicit I Sterek)

The Pack, after college, graduate school and the starting of careers, comes back to Beacon Hills. Nothing's gotten less complicated after all this time.

Based on a kink meme prompt that grew legs and got serious.

Note: This is a whole lot of pack!fic with a very slow build Derek/Stiles.

The Boy and the Beast by Dira Sudis (dsudis)

(1/1 I 116,686 I Mature I Sterek)

In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)

AND

@harlstiel has some.

The Searching Ceremonies by kouriarashi

I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek by DiscontentedWinter

(15/15 I 51,937 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles finds a baby on the porch.

It looks exactly like him.

Well, this is awkward.

Little Wild Animal by DiscontentedWinter

(23/23 I 61,036 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek Hale finds a feral human on his pack's property. Humans are supposed to be extinct. But then, Stiles is full of surprises.

#teen wolf #best fics #essential fics #anon #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #submission

441 notes · View notes

hedwig221b · 6 months ago

Note

Hedwig!! I love your fics so much, no one else does Sterek like you🤞

This is so random but I’ve been craving some outsider POV fics of you have any recommendations:)

P.S. I love Eros Mania Amor and it definitely inspired this request lol

Hi! Thank you so much! 💗 Here are some of my faves:

Oblivious Misadventures, and Other Such Tales by Little Spoon (JaydenNara)

Going to college was exciting and new, a chance for new friends and a fresh start, and the best part was, there was a supernatural fraternity on campus, meaning Scott finally had the freedom to be himself.

Then he met the resident human who came with a stalker alpha. What was the point of a supernatural fraternity if he still had to pretend to be human. And seriously, did Stiles ever fall asleep somewhere normal?

the demon slayer by the_problem_with_stardust

Jaz sighs, leaning back against her alpha. “They’re going to tear us apart.”

“No they won’t. Alpha Hale is an honorable man.” Maria presses a wry smile into her mate's neck. “It’s literally the only thing every other pack we’ve met with has agreed on.”

“But his Emissary…” Jaz swallows hard, trying not to think of the stories they’ve heard. Stories of a man who banished a legion of demons to hell, using only the force of his will.

A Spotter's Guide to the North American Werewolf Hunter by wearingthelilac

Dealing with a hunter roommate was not covered in the student handbook.

Or the one where Stiles' college roommate is a werewolf and thinks Stiles is a hunter.

Is This Seat Taken? Only By My Delusions by SylvieW

An unknown werewolf and his mate move to Beacon Hills and the McCall pack isn’t sure what to expect from them. They discover that while Derek isn’t a problem, Stiles might be.

Scotty didn't know by Smowkie

Scott was confused. They both smelled almost horny, except not really sexual, more like in awe, and they kept approaching each other, complimenting each other, and-. Derek lifted a hand, gently touched Stiles’ cheek.

“Do the eye thing again,” he murmured, and Stiles’ smile was huge as his eyes turned white.

“What the fuck,” Scott said faintly, but no one seemed to notice him.

The life of the irresistibly oblivious Stiles series by Nosiddam1

Just a series of cute fluffy one shots where Stiles is irresistible or oblivious or both and who only has eyes for Derek.

Fell In Love With A Boy by beekayem

When Sera moved to Beacon Hills she met the man of her dreams. Stiles Stilinski her next door neighbour with extraordinary cooking and baking skills and a smile that just melts her heart. He was perfect.

He was also married…to a man. Who may or may not be her boss.

Life was hard.

Too Little Too Late by SolariaLunar21

Danny's always had a secret crush on Stiles Stilinski but never hopes for more until he over-hears Scott and Stiles talking about the other boy coming out to his Dad as bi.

#sterek #sterek fic #stiles x derek #eternal sterek #sterek fanfic #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek fic rec #sterek fanfiction #sterek ao3 #hedwig221b replies #anon asks

243 notes · View notes

bamboozledbird · 4 months ago

Text

IGNITE: A Teen Wolf S1 AU // Chapter 1 / Next

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski, Reader (You) Pairing: Eventual Stiles x Reader, but man are we talking slow burn Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: Canon typical gore/violence, parental death (rip to your fake mom), descriptions of burning, depictions of depression (apathy, dissociation, 'numb little bug' vibes) Tags: Canon has been lovingly scrapped for parts, author is a chaotic bi and it shows, prolific overuse of the em dash, the slowest of burns i fear

Summary: You can always smell ash long after the fire is gone. Perhaps, that’s why you still can’t breathe without choking on the past. It’s been four years since your mom died. Four years since she burned alive. For years since you didn’t. You survived, but they must have buried your heart with her because you feel like something halfway between a ghost and a lamb for slaughter.

You can’t wash the smell of hospital out of clothes, not really. Maybe, that’s why death and disease follows Stiles wherever he goes now. It’s been eight years since his mom died. Eight years since he didn’t. Eight years since he decided that he wouldn’t let anyone he loved die ever again. He survived, but Scott’s new-found abilities and the murky world they’ve been dragged into is making it pretty damn hard to keep his promise.

Time never stops turning. The grief never dissipates. Children soldier on—but in a town where all the monsters under the bed are real and old family skeletons rattle in every closet, how long can two fragile, breakable humans survive?

Maybe, the real question is how long will they want to? Chapter Summary: After your annual interrogation with Sheriff Stilinski, you meet his son who turns out to be very handy with jumper cables and incoherent babbling.

A/N: Does this look familiar? It should lmao. I gave into the peer pressure. All the messages and requests were too powerful. Here is a reader version of my ofc season 1 fic. Obviously some things have been removed to get rid of specific names/descriptions, so you want to read the full thing you can read the og version and check me out on ao3 (dork_knight)! For the sake of not clogging tags, I'll probably just do my reader version on tumblr and the full oc lore version on ao3 from now on. xx

Some say the world will end in fire. Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire.

Before your mother’s death, you would have picked fire. Every single time.

You never liked the cold; never really had to get used to it growing up in central California—but the crux of your argument, the twisted logic behind it all, was that most burn victims died from suffocation before they felt the flames. A small mercy, really, in the face of unspeakable tragedy.

In the end, however, statistics were just numbers, your mother didn't die from smoke inhalation, and there was no mercy in burying a parent before you were old enough to have children of your own. Nothing ever ended poetically off the page. Death was just death, and it was always ugly. Someone should really tell that to Robert Frost, you mused, biting at a raw hangnail.

The medical examiner said the actual cause of death was pulmonary edema; at least, that was his best guess based on the state of the body. He didn’t say that she felt everything, her skin peeling back into her flesh, her flesh liquefying into fuel, her joints flexing into contorted pleas until the fire incinerated her last nerve ending. He didn’t have to; you connected those dots all on your own. You’d been twelve at the time, not an imbecile.

“I’m sorry to drag you through this all again.”

You flitted your eyes away from the flickering lightbulb above Sheriff Stilinski’s head and met his gaze; it was nauseatingly sympathetic. Your responding shrug was a small, little thing—more like a twitch in practice, “Not your fault.”

Your yearly visits to Sheriff Stilinski’s office were solely your father’s doing, even if no one wanted to admit it to your face. Most mayors would use their political power to get their child out of a police station, not into it, but perhaps he stopped being your dad somewhere between the funeral and now.

“If you could start—”

“From the beginning,” you smoothed your thumb in small circles over the armrest of your chair, attentively tracing patterns into the polished wood, “I know.” This was, after all, the fourth anniversary of your first interrogation. You’d become somewhat of an expert at being a useless witness. You picked at your uneven cuticles before continuing, “Mom put me to bed around 10:00—which was kind of late for a school night, honestly, but she let me stay up to finish another chapter anyway.” The right corner of your mouth twitched for a brief moment, “Nancy Drew: Password to Larkspur Lane. I told her that forcing someone to go to sleep in the middle of a mystery was specifically forbidden in Geneva Protocol II.” Your mom had been far too indulgent of your lip on most occasions, but that night she didn’t smile at your snarky aside. She let you finish the chapter because she was too tired to argue; you could tell. At the time, you saw it as a victory. Now, it kept you up at night, the drooping lines of your mother’s mouth spilling over the pages of whatever book you were trying to read.

You bit down on your tongue when a stray splinter snagged against the soft pad of your thumb, “Dad was out of town, so it was just the two of us. Mom always put me to bed when Dad was gone; said it was the only way she could get to sleep. Had to make sure my window was locked.” You paused for a long moment: everything went dark after this. Your mother kissed the top of your head, murmured, ‘Love you,’ turned out the light, and then that was it. You woke up in the hospital, and your mom was dead.

A bead of sweat dripped onto your top lip. The air in the Beacon Hills police station was, without fail, sticky with heat and body odor—and it wasn’t just the oppressive Californian sun. Even in the winter, a person could choke on the stifling warmth. Idly, you wondered if it was a matter of interrogatory tactics or budgetary constraints.

“And then,” Sheriff Stilinski prompted gently, though you both knew how the story went from here. You had told it to him and a dozen other officials at least a hundred times in the last four years.

You bit down on your thumbnail and winced when your teeth snagged on the tender nail bed, “And then nothing. I opened my eyes, and a nurse said that you found me on the front lawn.”

“You don’t remember how you got outside?”

You shook your head, staring past the Sheriff's shoulder. Large pieces of dust floated through the air, highlighted by the slivers of light trickling through the blinds. Suddenly, you had a newfound appreciation for the lack of fans in the room.

Sheriff Stilinski cleared his throat and rubbed his hand over his jaw, “You don’t remember saying it was an angel?”

Blinking slowly, you looked at the grim line of the Sheriff’s mouth and gripped your knees tightly, digging your fingers into fragile skin until your wrist cracked, “I should, right? I was twelve. I should remember something—that’s what everyone thinks. That’s what my dad thinks.” Your eyelids fluttered to a tight close, and your voice went so quiet you could barely be heard over the hum of the copier outside the door, “He thinks it was me. That’s why he makes you question me every year.” Copper flooded your mouth as the soft lining of your cheek split under the brunt of your teeth, “He thinks you’ll finally figure out how I did it.”

You were scared to open your eyes as the silence stretched between the two of you. You’d danced around the subject before, hinted and spun around the heart of it, but you’d never truly discussed how it looked from the outside. Sheriff Stilinski had been kind enough to give you a few different excuses over the years: trauma, head injury, oxygen deprivation, just plain ol’ grief—but whatever caused your temporary amnesia wasn’t so conveniently explained. In fact, currently, you had no explanation at all. When you finally peeked through your lashes, clumped together with frustrated tears, you couldn’t quite figure out what expression the Sheriff was making. He leaned back in his desk chair and frowned, “I’m sure he doesn’t—”

“He does,” you cut him off. Your eyes went flinty, irises darkening to something far more ashen with the resolve of your anger. You never had any trouble reading your father’s face; the disgust was thinly-veiled between the flickers of fear.

Sheriff Stilinksi leaned forward so that you had no choice but to look him in the eyes. They were kind—more tired than usual, but still kind. They always were. That was one thing you remembered from that day, waking up in the hospital to Sheriff Stilinski’s kind, watery blue eyes, just before the entire world fell apart. His voice was gentle, but firm, when he finally spoke, “I don’t.”

You nodded numbly and pulled at a fraying string on the hem of your denim skirt until the thread snapped.

“I mean it, kid. They couldn’t identify the source of the fire. They couldn’t even find an origin point; no twelve-year-old could pull that off.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, “Could anyone?”

Sheriff Stilinski’s brow furrowed, and his mouth screwed up into a crooked line, like he was chewing on his words and deciding if he should swallow them or spit them out. “I wish I had all the answers for you. I really do. Not knowing, it’s worse than any truth.”

You blinked up at him for a moment, once again taken aback by his raw sincerity, and swallowed hard. He wasn’t the one who was supposed to have the answers; he was the one who was supposed to ask the questions. There was one failure in his muggy office, and it wasn’t the Sheriff. “It’s okay,” you said quietly. “Not your fault.”

He looked like he wanted to argue the point, but whatever he wanted to say was interrupted by the sharp ringing of the phone on his desk. “I have to take this, but if you remember something, or if you just need to talk—”

“My dad spends a small fortune on a psychiatrist and a behavioral therapist for that,” you stood up quickly, shouldering your bag. You forced the corners of your mouth into a small smile, tight at the edges like a sheet that had been stretched too thin, “But thank you. For everything.”

The Sheriff’s gaze darted to a framed photo on his desk. You had seen it before, on one of your many visits to his office. It was of a boy—his son, you assumed—he looked like he was around five or six at the time. He was grinning, wide enough to show off his missing incisors, and his fingers and wrist were stained cotton-candy blue from a melting popsicle. You must’ve been that happy once, right? In the beginning, everyone was unencumbered by the weight of imminent mortality. Maybe that’s what Sheriff Stilinski was thinking, too. He looked away from the photo and gave you a small smile, “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

You gave a half-hearted wave before wrapping your fingers around the strap of your backpack and walking to the parking lot.

Outside, the sky was grim, a mocking reflection of the dour expression on your face. The spite in your eyes hardened when big, fat raindrops splattered against the apples of your cheeks. For a moment, you just stood there, glaring at the rain and cursing the cosmos for their utterly unamusing sense of humor.

A jeep pulled into the parking lot, and the squealing engine startled you back into reality. The search for your car keys was, of course, a considerable endeavor. Nothing could be easy. Not here. Not today. Not ever, you thought. A bit melodramatic maybe, but the weather was certainly ripe for a bit of self-pity.

You stacked your textbooks and binders onto the hood of your sedan, haphazardly throwing your jacket on top of the pile to protect your painstakingly penned Kafka essay from the rain. By the time your fingertips brushed against the cool metal of your car keys, your hair was damp and curling at the ends.

The momentary relief was short-lived when you pressed the unlock button five times and the accompanying beep didn’t sound, not even once. For an absurdly long minute, all you could do was rest your forehead against the driver’s side window, breathing heavily until condensation gathered next to your mouth and the drizzle speckled dots onto the sleeves of your thin cotton shirt.

“If you’re trying to charge the battery through osmosis, it’d probably be more effective to smash your head against the hood.”

You jumped, and then flinched again when your keys clattered against the ground. You caught a glimpse of the phantom speaker in the side-view mirror; bizarrely, he looked just as surprised as you felt. You turned around, trepidatiously—objects may be closer than they appear n’all—and tried to swallow your rapidly rising heart.

“Sorry,” the boy pulled the hood of his sweatshirt down and had the decency to look contrite, “big mouth.” He rubbed a hand over his chapped lips. “It’s a real problem. It’s so big, actually, that my foot just slides right in there like…all the time,” he gestured animatedly with a flat hand, a quick sliding motion, like a fish through water.

You blinked at him, slowly, and bent down to reach for your keys, “Might wanna see someone about that. Sounds unsanitary.”

“Eh, it’s hardly the worst thing I’ve put in my mouth,” he said, eyes widening into horrified round circles the second he stopped talking. A faint flush creeped up his neck to his ears, and your heart dropped back into your chest. Slashers and ax murderers didn’t blush. Probably. You hadn’t ever met one, but it seemed like sound logic.

“Choking hazard,” you hummed, leaning back against your car. Your fingers traced a small dent in the door, the cause long forgotten, “It’s definitely still a choking hazard.”

The boy grinned before fixing his expression into something on the cusp of severity, “I’m about 95.7% sure that anything bigger than a fist is completely mouth-safe.” He held up his fist and nodded sharply, “Make that 98.3% sure.”

“98.3?” your brow arched.

“Maybe even 98.9.”

The buzz of a lamp post hummed above your heads as you stared at each other with little smirks until the quiet made you sink your teeth into your bottom lip and big-mouth drum his fingers against his forearm.

“So,” his sneakers squeaked against the slick asphalt as he shifted his weight, “you need a jump?”

You pursed your lips and ran your eyes over the front of your car, “I might give osmosis another shot. 30 seconds is hardly a fair trial.”

“Of course,” he hummed, “you gotta be fair.”

“We are in front of a police station.”

“Well,” he scratched his cheek, “it’s not a courthouse.”

“Technicality.” You were slightly horrified when you finally noticed that you were smiling. The sensation felt like it had escaped straight out of the uncanny valley and latched onto your face like a parasite in need of a host. It only took two weeks for muscles to atrophy; years must have completely decimated the fibers in your cheeks. “I guess I could use a jump. If your offer was an offer and not a hypothetical.”

“Smart choice.” The boy rapped his knuckles against the hood of your car and said, “Steel’s probably pretty low on the permeability scale.”

“As opposed to a skull.”

He snorted and then nodded towards the large lump of books and papers covered by your freshly dampened jean jacket, “You should probably move your stuff. Y’know, ‘cause of the very un-permeable battery.”

“There’s that,” you sighed and started stuffing your things back into your backpack, shaking it violently until your notebook finally slid past your chemistry textbook, “and flunking English isn’t high on my list of things to do this weekend.”

His gaze flickered back and forth, rapidly cataloging every corner and crevice of your face. You tilted your head, brows pinched, and stared back at him with your arms crossed tightly over your chest. His eyes, you noticed, became a peculiar shade of brown in the yellow glow of the setting sun and the fluorescent light of the lamppost. More like honey, you realized, more like honey than irises. Something finally clicked behind them. "You,” he pointed aggressively, “you go to Beacon Hills.”

You pushed his finger away from your face with your own, “Safe bet, considering there’s exactly one option for the next 2,000 square miles.”

“You’re kind of a smartass, you know that,” he muttered. He struggled with the trunk of the jeep parked next to your car, cursing under his breath until he finally wrenched it open with an almost guttural grunt.

Your lips parted briefly, and then you grinned drolly. It was refreshing, not being treated like some fragile little creature who would buckle in the knees—or possibly set something on fire—at the slightest confrontation. “Kind of?”

“Total.” He nodded decisively before sticking his head and torso into the depths of his trunk. “Completely, entirely, and wholly a smartass.” There were various clanging sounds until he re-emerged with a pair of jumper cables, “Never noticed that in class. You don’t really…say anything.”

You bit back the snark poised on the tip of your tongue. When people looked at you, the only thing they saw was the worst thing that had ever happened to you. You were the daughter of the woman who burned to death on Cedar Street; your mom died, and you were there. It seemed like that was all you would ever be in Beacon Hills.

In the grand scheme of things, it was better to be no one.

High school had been your chance to slip into social obscurity—more kids, more drama, less discussion of homicide by arson—so you took it, wholeheartedly. You kept to the corners of classrooms, away from extracurriculars, and your mouth resolutely shut.

“I try to exclusively bring the smart and leave the ass at home,” you finally replied.

The boy’s eyes drifted downwards for a moment, and his voice did a funny, squeaky thing when he said, “I should give that a go sometime.”

“10/10 would recommend. No one bugs you—and teachers never throw erasers at your face.”

“So you do remember me,” he grinned a little and rolled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt before unlatching the jeep’s hood and propping it open.

Slanting your head, you watched his profile. There were moles scattered across his cheek and neck, and his angular jaw clenched as he struggled with the knotted cords in his willowy fingers. “Vaguely,” you said faintly. It was coming back to you in pieces. That was life after twelve for you: bits and pieces. Everything was made up of the disquieting moments when you surfaced from the haze and into the present. It should’ve felt like a lungful of air, but it didn’t. It always felt like choking.

He wiped his grease-smudged hand on his jeans and then extended it towards you, “Stiles.”

You took his hand, despite the strange formality, and shook it—mainly because of the black streaks staining his pants. “Y/N.”

His fingers twitched a few times when he connected the clamp to the coordinating battery terminal, and your eyes widened. You held your breath in your sternum until you registered that he hadn’t been electrocuted. He was just naturally tweaky, you concluded. It was either that, or he had jumped one-too-many engines in the last 24 hours…unless it was hidden option C, and he was actually tweaking. Unlikely, given he was on his way into a building teeming with cops, but far stranger things had happened in Beacon Hills.

You sighed a little as you listened to the rain patter against the asphalt and the roof of your car, rubbing your palms over your arms until the goosebumps prickling along your biceps receded into your skin. Stiles looked back at you again, and his mouth wormed its way into a little frown. His head disappeared into his trunk, and after a moment a lumpy maroon mass hurtled towards your face. You caught it before it could smack into your nose, and you clutched at the soft material until you realized that the projectile missile was actually just a sweatshirt.

Stiles was staring at you when you looked up from your hands. A small, unsure…something squirmed over his face, and you felt a little stupid, just standing there, hoodie limp in your arms. It happened a lot—more than it should after so many years. The invisible quicksand materialized in the strangest, most insignificant moments. You blinked, completely brainless, at simple questions, stared aimlessly into your closet until your second alarm startled you into snatching the first shirt you came across—clasped at a stranger’s hoodie until the rainwater pooled on your lashes dripped into your eyes.

Robotically, you thrust your arms through the sleeves and tugged it over your head, “Thanks.” The sweet scent of grass clung to the fabric, and there was something earthier underneath it, something like evergreen. You smiled slightly, combing your baby hairs behind your ears, “I guess I forgive you for attempting to blind me in the process.”

Stiles’s shoulders unwound as he scoffed, “That was an excellent throw. First-line material, honestly.”

You looked at him and tilted your head, eyebrows crawling towards your hairline, and Stiles sighed loudly, “Okay, so I’m not an ‘athlete’ or whatever—but I’m working on it. You’ll see—you’ll all see.”

You hummed softly, unconvinced but grateful enough to not comment further. Another bout of silence fell between you, but it wasn’t so restless this time—even after Stiles torpedoed his body through his passenger seat. He fought with his keys for a while until the correct one slid into the ignition.

The jeep’s engine hummed pleasantly in the background as you let out a soft sigh, dropping your head back against your car window. The rain had stopped somewhere between trying to unlock your car and now, but you couldn’t quite recall when. The chill wasn’t so bad, you realized, without your foul mood casting a shadow over your head.

Stiles landed back on his feet and leaned against the jeep. You could feel his gaze on you again. A tickling sensation trailed down your spine as you fiddled with your keychain. You took a step backwards and bit your bottom lip, “I should probably try start my car…y’know, before you throw something else at my face.’”

He nodded, taking a step towards his jeep, “Solid plan. A tire iron was next.”

You slid into your car and stared at the steering wheel, forgetting to laugh at his joke. You wrapped your fingers around 10 and 2 and silently called upon every deity you’d ever heard of to end your suffering. Stiles seemed nice enough, but you seriously doubted your smalltalk capabilities were up-to ‘ride home’ standards. Perhaps, you should revisit your resounding dedication to atheism, you thought, as the engine sputtered in protest a few times and then came back to life.

Stiles flashed two thumbs up through the window. The smile on his face was positively goofy, but his dismount from the jeep was somehow even goofier. He stumbled over his large feet a few times before regaining stability. You bit back a smile when he shot you another thumbs up, this time through the dash as he removed the jumper cables from your car’s battery.

He wiped his hands off on his jeans again; at this point, you were convinced that they were beyond saving, but Stiles didn’t seem concerned. He tapped against your window before stepping around the open door, “You should probably let it run for a while. Take the scenic route home; enjoy all the Beacon Hills hotspots open past 8:00 pm on a weeknight. I personally recommend the Rite Aid or Walmart.”

You snorted, “Maybe I’ll swing by the Preserve. I hear the woods are especially beautiful in the foreboding darkness.”

“Don’t.” Serious was an odd look on Stiles’s face. You decided that you much preferred the goofy grin. “Don’t go anywhere near the Preserve. It’s officially cordoned off—totally locked down, quarantine-zone-central. Something about flesh-eating, parasitic plant life.”

“As completely real and unobtrusive as that sounds,” you drawled, “don’t worry about it. Literally every single person in town knows about the body they found in the woods.” It was bound to happen, small town and all—and ‘woman dies in deadly animal attack’ was the most interesting thing that had happened in Beacon Hills since the intersection got a Target two years ago. “I’ve seen every installment of Friday the 13th and The Blair Witch Project. If I’m going to be murdered, I refuse to also be humiliated by a cliché C.O.D.”

The manic expression on his face softened to a relieved smile and then again to a little smirk, “So what’s a certified fresh murder, then? Not that I doubt the depths of human depravity, but I think society killed off originality a few centuries ago.”

You thought back to a house fire with no origin, accelerant, or discernible cause. Apparently, not. “You know what they say,” you sighed, “life finds a way.”

Stiles tilted his head, “And death.”

“And death,” you agreed, staring at a small chip in your windshield. The cracks had just begun to spiderweb out from the pit.

Stiles looked like he wanted to say something, and he looked so much like the Sheriff with his face twisted around thoughtful contemplation that you couldn’t believe it had taken you this long to make the connection. The boy in the photo had grown up. How unfortunate for him. Stiles swallowed whatever it was that was lingering on his tongue and shut your door. He leaned his elbow against the window frame and cocked his hand in a stiff little wave, “Seeya at school. I’ll bring something fun for target practice—maybe grapes. You like grapes? Don’t answer that—I’ll surprise you.”

You put your car in drive once Stiles was safely a few feet from the wheels and gave him a dry smile, “The anticipation is killing me.”

What a scary place to be, you thought as you watched Stiles disappear in your rearview mirror. Anticipation. Hope. Life. You were chronically good at surviving; cockroached your way out of every horrible thing life squashed you with. Lately, all you could do was cling to your heartbeat and the warmth of your skin, until you were barely more than roadkill. A walking carcass was a far cry from living, but death would not stop for you, so you stopped looking for him. You kept treading water, took your pills, stopped existing—you were a lot like Schrödinger’s cat that way: too stubborn to live, too stubborn to die. You didn’t know what to do if someone unsealed the box and forced you to choose. That was the trouble with possibility; it required far too much uncertainty.

Your dad’s SUV was parked in the garage when you finally pulled into your circle driveway. It was a rare sight; your dead battery had disrupted your usual routine. You were supposed to be safely tucked away in your room after an early dinner—take-out usually, sometimes a quesadilla if you were feeling exceptionally inspired—by the time your dad got home from work. It was dysfunctional in every sense of the word, but it was the only way you could function in the same space.

He used to stare at you from the other end of the dinner table: not eating, not speaking. The only way you knew he was alive was the slow rise and fall of his chest. After a while, he moved dinner to his office. ‘Working dinner,’ he’d say in passing, ‘budgets are due.’ Eventually, he stopped coming home altogether. It was better that way, you thought. You loved each other better from afar, where the power of nostalgia could cloud all the present unpleasantries. You wondered what he saw when he looked at you now. You wondered, and you desperately didn’t want to find out.

You shouldered your backpack and made sure your car lights were off twice before quietly creeping into the mudroom. You could hear the buzz of the microwave as you toed off your sneakers and tried to discern the smell emanating from the kitchen. Something with garlic and tomato. Bona Vita, probably. Your dad loved their al pomodoro.

You tried to make yourself as small as possible as you skulked into the kitchen, shoulders hunched to your ears and grip tight around the strap of your backpack. Your dad’s back was to you; you could see the wrinkles in his collar from where he tugged at it when he was agitated. He stopped stirring his pasta once you reached the island.

“Did…” your dad trailed off for a moment, still facing the kitchen counter, “did everything go alright with the Sheriff?”

You shrugged even though he couldn’t see you, “I guess.”

“It’s just,” he rubbed at his jaw and looked down towards the oven, “it’s almost eight. I was wondering…worrying.”

He still wasn’t looking at you. You stared at the back of his head and sucked your bottom lip between your teeth. Look at me. Your brows pinched, and your back molars ground together. Look at me.

“I called him. Sheriff Stilinski. He said that you didn’t speak for long.”

“Didn’t have anything new to say,” you shoved your hands into hoodie pockets, realizing belatedly that you forgot to give Stiles his sweatshirt back. Another problem for another time.

“That’s not what I—” your dad grasped the lip of the counter and hung his head like it suddenly weighed too much for his spine, “I was wondering what happened to you.”

“Oh,” you shifted your weight onto your other foot, “dead battery. I think it was the door light.”

Your dad nodded a little, “Do you need someone to pick up your car?”

“Got a jump from a friend.” Not a friend, not really, but you supposed it was the closest you’d come to one in the last four years. That was just a little too sad to say out loud.

“Good.” He nodded again, “Good.”

You nodded because it seemed like the only thing to do and slipped towards the hallway. You’d taken no less than five steps out of the kitchen when your dad said, “You could call me. Next time, you could call me.”

Maybe. Maybe you could if he would look at you.

#stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fanfiction #dylan o'brien imagine #stiles stilinski x you #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski x reader

126 notes · View notes

quack-quack-snacks · 1 year ago

Text

Flaming Hearts

My Navigation and Masterlist

Pairing(s): Void Stiles x Phoenix!Fem!Reader Summary: You were always treated like an outcast by the pack. When the nogitsune takes over Stiles's body, he shows you how good being the outcast can feel Warnings: smut, pwp, mean McCall pack, EXTREME OVERSTIMULATION, fingering, cunnilingus, praise kink (tehe), eye contact, vaginal penetration, masochistic Void (kinda for like half a scene), sweet Void, commentary during the deed which is lowkey cringe in some spots my bad y’all, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, reader is not on birth control, Void lowkey baby trapping reader, a lil manipulation but like not bad, updated to have no use of (y/n), I think that’s it lmk if there's more. MINORS CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK. YOU KNOW THE WARNINGS YOU’VE READ THEM A THOUSAND TIMES. Word Count: 10,086

This was a very self-indulgent fic and I’m not sorry.

Pt 2 will be linked here when done.

BRO IS BEAUTIFUL WHAT

(GIFs are by @scuddish thank you scuddish for your wonderful contribution)

Life was cruel, but it made up for it with gifts.

You were new in town, a transfer student, living in a single bedroom apartment that was provided for you by your mother as well as helped by the government of Beacon Hills. You’d felt a calling to be here for the longest time and you were relieved your mom let you go. All throughout the first two weeks of your time attending the new school, you were desperately searching for friends or somewhere to fit into with no luck. On one extremely anxious day, you escaped your class to go to the girl’s locker room and break down there.

Until you saw two boys in there. The shock of two boys being in the Female locker room was enough to shake you out of your panicked state and make you wipe the tears from your eyes. With your vision no longer blurred, you could see the claws on his hands and the intense sideburns and fangs.

When once brown eyes turned a bright glowing amber, your body decided that was too much.

And you fainted.

The pack took you in after that - almost as an apology for making you faint - and allowed you to join their group since you knew about the supernatural now. They let you sit with them, invited you to sleepovers - Allison and Lydia mostly but Scott and Isacc surprisingly asked once. You were so happy to finally find a place that you fit in.

Except they never really let you join completely. No trust other than friendly-non supernatural related matters trust was placed in you despite the continuous ways you proved yourself. Being human, you were outcasted in the group of outcasts. Stiles was human but he was the brains. He discovered things no one else could, he was the detective of the group.

You were more like an emotional support human that was only needed like 2% of the time.

Noah Stilinski, the sweetheart that he is and despite his son’s deepest complaints, took over your living situation and let you stay with them for the year while you attended school at Beacon Hills.

Perfect fucking precious Stiles. He was infinitely the worst one in the group. At first he just avoided you at all costs until his dad decided to room you in the same house as him. Ever since, he’d been sending you glares anytime you were in his visibility and would blame you for the simplest of things despite obviously being the cause of them. He was so hard to get along with. Seeing how he acted around everyone else besides you and how everyone else acted around each other made everything worse. You knew you couldn’t leave because of Noah’s insistence to stay here and your mother not paying for housing anymore since she knew of your improved situation.

You also didn’t want to leave. You didn’t want to leave these people. The only friends you can remember having. Those who, despite how they cast you out, have treated you decently well, at the very least sometimes, and took you in at your most vulnerable moment.

Stiles just seemed to hate you for whatever reason.

You sighed as you walked through the front door to the Stilinski household. A sigh escaped your mouth as the door closed behind you.

You called out into the house to let anyone home know of your presence. “I’m back!”

The house was eerily quiet and no response hit your ears. You shrugged it off with the thought of all occupants just being out and were a bit relieved you could have the house to yourself for a bit. They barely let you off on your own. Even now when you spent your time out of the house, you were accompanied by Lydia.

You shrugged your rain coat off your shoulders and took off your muddied boots, not wanting to track it into the house and have an excuse for Stiles to hate you even more. Your bones ached from the long day, having been running around all day trying to do whatever you could to help find Stiles. He had been missing for a while and the group barely filled you in on what was happening, just giving you the quick and vague summary about a nogitsune and a missing Stilinski.

With a sigh, you plopped down onto the living room couch and leaned your head on the back cushion. Your eyes closed and you took a moment to just listen to the quiet around you, the only sound the pitter patter of the pouring rain on the roof and windows. It was calm, peaceful even. You couldn’t remember a time where your life wasn’t a chaotic mess since meeting the pack. You sunk more into the cushions and pulled your knees to your chest while grabbing the TV remote and switching it to your favorite channel.

It was all so dark. So dark yet so comforting. Calloused fingertips caressed your forehead and brushed the hair out of your face. You could feel yourself being brought out of the heavenly ignorant bliss the darkness gave you and groaned in complaint. The fingertips stilled on your hairline, slowly retracting and you let out another sound of complaint.

A soft chuckle that sounded familiar but just out of reach for your sleep hazed brain echoed through the room. You felt yourself slipping back into the darkness when the familiar voice spoke.

“They don’t treat you very well do they, dove?”

Your eyes opened almost hesitantly and when you saw the voice’s face you gasped.

There he was. Stiles Stilinski in the flesh, and yet he seemed so different. His skin was paler, his eye bags sunken in and were a light purple. He looked… hot.

You shook that thought away the moment it popped into your head.

His hand, now resting on your cheek with a gentle grip, was feverish, almost to the point of uncomfort, but not quite.

And then you realized.

It was Stiles.

“Oh my god! Stiles what the hell?” You shot up to sit straight but his hand holding your cheek quickly traveled to your throat and he forced you back down, not holding enough to restrict air flow or hurt, but enough for you to get the message not to move. That and the glare he gave you. A sound of surprise sounded from your mouth unwillingly. “Um.” your eyes traveled from his unnaturally dark eyes to the wrist of the hand wrapped around your neck. “Okay, haha, you’re really funny but you can let go now.” You tried to laugh it off and deescalate the situation despite your growing weariness.

“Now why would I do that, when you look so pretty wearing my hand as a necklace?” He tilted his head and his eyes ran over your body slowly, seeing you shift under his gaze and his smirk growing with each movement.

“Wha- huh?” That was about all the words you could say, nothing coherent coming out of your mouth as you weren’t sure if you were flustered, annoyed, or turned on.

Maybe it was all three.

“Stiles, stop messing around. Everyone has been worried sick about you, they’ve spent the last 2 days searching for you nonstop. We need to call Scott and let him know you’re here and okay.” Although ‘okay’ doesn’t seem like the correct term. Sure, Stiles seemed unharmed, despite the obvious lack of sleep showing on his face - although that was relatively normal for him and his insomnia - but his tone, posture, and manners were way different. It almost seemed as if he had become a different person overnight.

He chuckled again, even his voice seemed deeper. Darker. “Oh I’m sure Scott knows exactly how I’m doing, considering I was at school earlier today. Oh… wait, they didn’t tell you, did they?” His face shifted into a mocking pout. “Poor little dove, outcast even in a place surrounded by people of supernatural abilities. The outcast of the outcasts. A fitting title don’t you think?” His words stung a little but it was nothing you yourself hadn’t already thought of. Him saying it just confirmed your thoughts.

“I mean, they don’t trust you at all. Despite everything you have put yourself through to prove yourself to them, they’ve just pushed it all to the side just because you’re different.” You were getting sick of him taunting you, just approving everything you’ve been telling yourself for the past two months. You rolled your eyes in annoyance and, fed up, you raised your hands to his wrist and tried to pry it off your neck. As soon as your fingers touched the skin of his hand - with a speed you barely saw - he removed his hand from your neck, using both hands to grab your wrists and pin them above your head to the couch’s armrest. He smirked at your dumbfounded expression and shocked stutters.

“You see, I’ve been watching it for a while now, the faltered smiles when one of them would make a comment to the group and cast you out. When they talked about their plans at lunch when you weren’t sitting with them yet and immediately shutting up when you got into ear shot. The way when even you don’t know, they are always following you, always watching. Making sure you were being a good girl.” He smirked once again and shifted your hands to be held by only one of his. The, now freed, hand forced your curled up legs to straighten and then he moved to straddle above you. You were pretty sure your eyes could just pop out of their sockets by how wide they were. His face dipped down and he pressed his nose to your jugular, his lips just barely touching your skin and lightly brushing against it when he talked again.

“But you’ve always been a good girl, haven’t you?” Your breath caught as his teeth lightly skimmed over your neck, canines feeling more elongated and sharper than normal. A shiver went down your spine as his tongue peeked out and slid up your neck until he was right next to your ear.

“Will you be a good girl for me now, dove?”

A whimper almost escaped your bite swollen lips at the pet name, your cheeks heating up and a warmth swirling in your core. “S-Stiles, what’s gotten into you?”

He growled and bit down on your neck harshly, making you release a yelp before it transformed into a muffled moan as he smoothed his tongue over it. “Don’t. Call me that.”

“Call you what? Your name?” You asked, so confused by everything that was happening. Confused on why Stiles was acting this way, confused by why he wouldn’t call Scott, confused on why now of all times your attraction to Stiles had to come out.

You’ve always thought Stiles was attractive. The muscles he hid underneath his baggy flannels, the short glimpse you would see whenever he took his lacrosse jersey off after practice or a game before heading to the locker rooms, and that pretty face that haunted your dreams. Now, it seemed the attraction was even worse because of this new arrogant, cocky, full of himself, and confident attitude. He wasn’t pretty anymore, he was bewitchingly hot.

It also didn’t help that something unmistakable was poking your lower stomach.

“That’s not my name.” He said before quickly positioning himself to be kneeling on the couch in front of you between your legs, your thighs wrapped around his waist and his clothed erection so close to your heat a soft whimper escaped your mouth against your will. He grabbed your neck again, forcing you to look him in the eyes as he smirked and jutted his hips forward.

A gasp that quickly turned into a moan left you and you struggled against his grip on your hands as your cheeks heated, embarrassed by the sounds you were making. You didn’t necessarily want him to stop, you just wanted to cover your mouth so no sound would come out.

As if he could read your thoughts, he spoke. “Oh no no. You’re not going to hide those pretty little noises from me. In fact,” he leaned his face in close, your noses touching and lips inches apart. “I’ve decided I’m going to make you unable to stop making them.” His lips met yours as he thrust his clothed sex against yours again, swallowing the moan that left your mouth. He grinded against you, teasingly slow and you could feel his lips turning into a grin as you tried to quiet your whimpers and moans.

Just as his hand managed to unbuckle your pants, your phone rang from the kitchen counter. Stiles broke the kiss and stared at you with an outraged and lust filled look. He let you get up to go answer the phone with an eye roll.

It was Scott.

“Hey Sco-”

His frantic voice panically calling your name cut you off. “Where are you?”

“Uh, I’m… at home? Or- shit, not my home, the Stilinski home.”

A short sigh of relief was heard through the phone. “Okay, good. Stay there. Lock the doors and windows, do not let anyone in. Absolutely no one, do you understand me? No one! Not until we tell you it’s safe.”

“Scott, it's a bit late for that. Stiles came home a while ago, I’m not sure when bu-”

“Stiles is with you?” Scott’s voice yelled through the phone and you winced before replying.

“Yeah we’ve been… in the living room for the past 20 minutes or so.”

“Get the hell out of there,” Scott said sternly with a bit of fear and anxiety mixed in.

“What? Why?”

His voice broke a little as he spoke your name with a fearful tone. “That’s not Stiles.”

A hand landed over your mouth just as you were about to say something else while another gently took the phone from your grasp. The shock and slight fear of the situation took over both your flight and fight senses, leaving freeze as the only option. Stiles, or not-Stiles, brought the phone up to his ear as Scott shouted through it, his every word stated clearly despite being heard through the phone when not on speaker.

“Sorry, Scottie. Why don’t you call back later? Your girl's a little busy right now.” With that, he hung up.

You turned around slowly only to have Stiles, or not-Stiles, standing inches away from you with a massive evil grin shaping his face. You took a step back only to realize you had no room because of the kitchen counter. Not-Stiles took a single step forward and then grabbed the counter on either side of your body, trapping you. He stuck his face into your neck again, breathing deeply before speaking.

“And here I was wanting to drag it out for a while longer.” He leaned back and looked you straight in the eye with the most genuine smile you had seen from him all night, if not ever. “But alas, not today.” He raised his hand and swiftly brought it down to a pressure point on your neck, knocking you out instantly and catching you with a soft grip as you fell. “Until next time, dove.”

A violent shake and iron tight grips on your biceps violently woke you up, Allison standing above your lying position on the Stilinski couch and looking at you with frantic panicked eyes that calmed when she saw you awaken.

“Oh thank god. You had me worried for a moment there.” She grabbed your hand and lifted you more harshly than you would have liked and you rubbed your wrist when she turned away. “Something’s going on. We need to go to Scott’s house, everyone is already there waiting for us.”

You knew better than to ask any questions. They would tell you what they would tell you and nothing more.

Looking around for your phone, you noticed it was nowhere to be seen and you remembered the events of last night.

Last night…

It had been a whole night since you had seen him. Since Scott had called.

Did they really take a whole night to come see you? To make sure you were okay?

The car ride there was silent and you could feel your anxiety rising the more the silence dragged on. A breath of relief left you as you saw Scott’s house pull up. Allison rushed straight into the house, leaving you behind without a second thought and you rolled your eyes to hide the pain it caused you.

When you entered the house, the chattering from the pack in the kitchen stopped abruptly and they all looked at you. Scott hesitated before he took a few steps toward you and brought you into an awkward hug.

“I’m glad you’re okay. We were all worried.”

You looked around once he let you go and almost scoffed. Oh yeah, they all look really worried. Didn’t have enough time to send someone over to make sue I was alive but they’re so worried.

Over time, they casted you out more and more and became more distant. You were completely left in the dust. Not even just for supernatural matter. Lydia and Allison stopped inviting you for sleepovers; Scott and Isaac stopped having lunch with you outside underneath the apple tree near the lacrosse field; Stiles, funnily enough, was the only one who stayed the same, if not lessened up on the glaring.

You heard a soft speaking from behind you and whipped around to see a sight that made you gasp.

There was Stiles. He was sitting on the couch with a piece of black tape covering his mouth with Melissa sitting next to him, her head in her hands. His eyes shone brightly when he caught sight of you and he tilted his head slightly to the side in a way that made you shift. It was like yesterday’s events were playing on repeat in his eyes and you couldn’t look away.

“I think it’s time we filled you in.” Scott said from behind you and it brought you out of the trance like state Stiles/Not-Stiles had you in.

“Yeah, you’re goddamn right it is.” You said and crossed your arms over your chest. Scott looked slightly shocked at your behavior and scratched the back of his neck. Just as he was about to open his mouth, you interrupted him. “Don’t even. I am getting so sick of how you all treat me. I have proven myself over and over again and you all just refuse to believe that I am on your side. What do I have to do for you to trust me? Do I need to sacrifice a lamb for you to trust me, oh my Lord Jesus Christ?” The last sentence was uttered with as much sarcasm as you could muster. Your outburst left everyone temporarily paralyzed in shock - as you had barely ever raised your voice at them - before a loud, albeit muffled, cackle interrupted the odd silence. You didn’t even have to turn around to know the Stiles imposter was looking at the show with mirth filled eyes.

“We- we never meant-” Scott started.

“Oh shut up, now is not the time for your excuses. Not to mention you practically left me for dead last night after you called, Scottie.” You spat his name out with a venom coated tongue as you interrupted him again and rolled your eyes. “Just fill me in on whatever the hell has happened to Stiles so we can all move on in our lives.”

He nodded and started to tell you everything about the nogitsune, how he had taken over Stiles, how he had stabbed Scott, how he almost killed Kira. By the end of the story you were surprisingly not even phased, whether that be because your mind was used to everything being crazy in your life while involved with the pack or how you just didn’t care. It’s not like they ever treated you that well, sure they were your friends but they were your friends by convenience and force, not choice.

And Void, that is what the nogitsune possessing Stiles’ body was called, well, he was just something else. The events yesterday may be shifting your bias but it was undeniable. You had felt an attraction like never before during those short and blissful moments. It didn’t even feel like Stiles. You know that even if Stiles had ever done something like that, he would never have had the confidence like Void did. And it was a feeling that made you squirm in your seat on the kitchen stool.

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled and you risked a glimpse behind to see Void already glaring into your eyes, his eyes darkened by a feeling you could only describe as complete and utter desire.

He wanted you. And if the chance were to come, who were you to deny him?

After 10 minutes of trying to figure out a plan and speaking in hushed tones to avoid Void hearing, Lydia had given in and called someone, you didn’t know who but it seemed everyone else did.

Once again they left you out. Even after you lectured them about how much they did that.

More waiting happened until the bang of the front door being slammed open interrupted your increasingly anxious thoughts. With a too gleeful expression for the situation on his face, the one and only Peter Hale stood in the doorway with his arms opened in a grand gesture.

You all gave him a deadpan stare.

He rolled his eyes and walked up to all of you, more specifically, to you. He tilted his head as he noticed your eyes. You turned your head to control yourself. When you were anxious, or just feeling any strong emotion, your eyes seemed as if the irises caught on fire. They were frighteningly beautiful.

And you hated them.

As your heart steadied and you raised your head back to the group again, Peter’s interested gaze had shifted away from you and to Lydia with a knowing look before walking to Stiles. As he crouched in front of him and inspected his state of being, he spoke. “He doesn’t look like he would survive a slap across the face, much less the bite of a werewolf.” You assumed Lydia already filled him in on what the situation was and what the plan was.

“You don’t think it would work?” Scott asked anxiously as he picked at the skin around his fingers.

“This is more a war of the mind than the body.” Peter stood back up to his full height. “There are better methods to winning this battle.” The mischievous glimpse in his eyes made you worried about what these ‘better methods’ were.

“What methods are you thinking of?” the veterinarian, Deaton, asked, his expression also showing concern.

Peter turned to face the rest of you. “We’re going to get in his head.”

As soon as he said that, he walked toward Lydia and roughly grabbed her by the elbow. With her being right next to me, you instinctively reached out and grabbed the wrist attached to the hand holding her. Peter’s loud unbridled yelp of pain made you rip your hand off him and he cradled his wrist as you caught a glimpse of it.

It was completely scorched.

Your face morphed into one of horror as your eyes flicker between the burn marks on his wrist that were, thankfully, already healing and the ashes on your palm.

“Oh my god! What did you do?” Lydia screamed at you and panicked as she grabbed Peter's arm, careful not to touch the wound.

“I- I didn’t- I don’t-” You kept trying to speak but your mind was panicking and your body was overwhelmed with shock and fear. Fear of yourself.

“It’s quite alright Lydia.” Peter said after a second when his hand had healed for the most part, it seemed the wound looked much worse than it actually was and all that remained was a red handprint and some ashes.

“I-I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know what happened.” You held the hand you used to your chest as if to protect everyone else from it. Deaton walked up from behind you and put his hand on your shoulder before flinching away.

“Your skin is burning. Scott, get her some ice.” Scott rushed to the fridge and brought out an ice pack. He practically shoved it into your hands before pulling his hand away quickly. He tried to hide it but his eyes showed fear.

It hurt, seeing them all looking at you like that. They tried to hide it but they looked at you the same way they looked at Void. They looked at you like you were a monster.

The ice pack in your hands was such a contrast to your burning skin that it forced your brain to focus on its contrasting temperature until you realized it was melting through your palms. You quickly hid your hands and the melted plastic of the ice pack in your pockets before anyone could see.

Anyone besides the boy sitting on the couch that is.

Peter reached for Lydia again, slowly this time and much gentler than before. You didn’t even look at them as they walked away, choosing instead to just stand there with your eyes focused on the hand you burned the man with.

After a while, they came back to the group and you all migrated to the couch where Stiles sat. You avoided his eyes like the plague, knowing they were zoned in on your every move and smiling in delight when he knew he’d gotten to you with just his mere presence.

Lydia was seated on one end of the couch, Void the other, with Scott standing behind the couch in the middle of them. Peter moved Scott’s fingers to align with the correct place to connect them all into Stiles’ mind palace.

“So what do we do if we do find him?” Scott asked.

“You’re going to have to guide him out somehow…” Peter replied vaguely which caused Scott and Lydia to both become increasingly annoyed and you rested your elbows on your knees before holding your head in your hands.

“Could you elaborate on ‘somehow?’ It’s not feeling very specific at the moment.” Lydia sighed with a slight roll of her eyes.

Peter shrugged, “Improvise.”

“Mm. Improvise he says.” you muttered under your breath but everyone ignored you.

Everyone except the murderous brown eyes burning a hole through your skull.

“What if this is just another trick?” Scott worried.

The grown wolf groaned in annoyance and exasperation. “When are you people going to start trusting me?”

You scoffed, thinking the exact same thing.

Scott’s eyes flickered between you and the hyena before he said, “I meant him.” And pointed to the possessed body on the couch. You finally raised your gaze to watch the scene unfold and felt your heart settle into your lower region when you saw Void. His head leaned against the back of the couch, tilted to the side as his eyes were focused on you, an enchanting and hungry look settling in his eyes as they gazed at you. He gave you a slow once over and everything around you tuned out as you felt your body heat up and pool in your panties. You could tell, if the black tape covering his lips was off, he would be sporting a very arrogant smirk.

A synchronized gasp from all three members near the couch broke your gaze with him as his eyes closed and his head fully fell against the back of the couch, face now facing the ceiling.

You almost stood up to go to him before a sigh from Peter faltered your movements and he spoke.

“Now we wait.”

And wait you did. It seemed like time was not in your favor when everything your life had become to know as normal was at stake. It couldn’t have been more than 30 minutes, but to you?

It felt like hours.

Blood dripped down Lydia’s nose and Peter ran up to her, shaking her as he screamed at her to concentrate and that she was stronger than this.

Personally, you couldn’t draw your eyes away from Void. His breathing was soft, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he swallowed and chest rising and falling with each inhale and outhale.

Meanwhile another Hale was pissing you off.

Just as you were about to call him out for being too loud, A collective gasp from the two non-possessed members near the couch once again interrupted you.

Melissa rushed toward Lydia to help her and Scott took a few deep breaths before focusing all his attention to the Stiles look-alike. “Did it work?” He asked frantically. You sighed and rested your head against your knees, arms wrapping around your shins to hug yourself in disappointment, the anticipation disintegrating into the thin air.

“What happened? Why didn’t it work?” Lydia stood up quickly and rushed to Peter, demanding answers he evidently couldn’t provide.

“Because it’s not science, Lydia, it’s supernatural.” Peter sighed before grabbing her arm and pulling her toward him menacingly and they spoke in hushed whispers before Void shot forward onto his knees to the floor.

Like a circus act, a seemingly unending length of fabric spit from Void’s mouth and he used both hands to pull it out. Unnerving moments went by as everyone watched before all the scarf-like material was out of his mouth and he scrambled back to sit on the couch again, panting with his head resting against the cushion and his eyes closed.

There was clattering and yells to the side but you just stood carefully and walked to where Stiles was sitting on the couch. You sighed in nervousness before touching his shoulder softly and attempting to comfort him since all the others of the pack were focused on the clump of fabric behind you.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, everything will work out. Just calm down.” You went to pull your hand away as his breathing slowed but he reached up and grabbed it with a speed non-human. Your heartbeat started rising again as the realization dawned on you.

He opened his eyes and looked at you with a smirk and heavy lidded eyes. “You’re right dove.” He tugged on your hand and you fell forward into him, his free arm wrapping around your waist aggressively. Or was it possessively? “Everything will work out.”

You awoke in a cold concrete walled room, the only warmth over you being your clothes and a soft woven blanket that did a surprisingly good job at staving off the chill. A soft padded queen size mattress with no support laid underneath to separate you from the frigid floor. You couldn’t remember passing out but you knew exactly where you were.

Or rather, who you were with.

Getting a sense of deja vu, calloused fingertips traced over your forehead to your hairline before going back again in a figure 8 pattern.

Your heart beat rose and his fingers trailed from your forehead to your neck, right over your pulse. You opened your eyes and looked at him where he sat; he looked genuinely happy, in a sick, twisted way. Despite how comforting the smile was, it sent shivers down your back that you couldn’t tell were pleasant or not.

“Hi dove.”

His voice broke you out of the trance his hypnotizing eyes put you under every time. You sat up quickly and scooted away from him, falling off the bed - luckily not falling down far because of how low the mattress was to the ground - and looked at him with conflicted thoughts and emotions.

He looked faux surprised and hurt by your actions, standing up and walking toward you as you scrambled to your feet to get away from him. “What’s wrong? You were so enthusiastic about it earlier, what changed?” You gasped as your back hit the concrete of the wall and he cornered you, one hand going to rest against the wall next to your head and the other holding your waist under your shirt. His fingers against your skin felt incredibly hot compared to the cold seeping through your shirt from the wall. He leaned in to speak again and his breath hit your lips with every word. “I promise I won't bite.”

Liar.

He leaned into your neck but didn’t touch you, only letting you feel the heat emanating from his body but not the skin. He took a deep breath in and you had to bite your lip and clench your eyes shut to stop yourself from falling to his feet.

It hadn’t gone away. The undeniable urge to just jump his bones and feel more of that pleasure he seemed so willing to offer.

“But of course, it's no fun if you don’t consent…” he leaned back and the hand that was previously on the wall next to your head traveled to your neck which he tilted upwards to lengthen your neck and looked at you with a smirk and hungry eyes ready to devour you. “So why don’t you be a good girl and tell me how much you want this,” he leaned in and his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, “I can practically hear you throbbing.”

A soft whimper left you when his hand on your waist drifted to tug your pants down the slightest bit but never went farther without you answering. A few moments of silence passed, only interrupted by your soft pants, and he sighed in disappointment, his grip on your neck and waist slowly being removed.

Your eyes shot open from their closed state, you didn’t stop to think about when they had closed, and you grabbed his hands before they could leave your body. He looked at you expectantly and you opened and closed your mouth like a fish a few times before answering him with a soft and whispered: “I want it.”

His grip returned to your skin but his hand tugging your pants traveled back to your waist to draw little shapes there, tickling you just the slightest bit. “Oh dove, I’m proud of you for trying, but that’s not what I want.” His hand around your throat tightened pleasantly. “I want you to beg.”

Your eyes widened and you forced your cheeks to cool and swallowed your pride.

“Please?” You tried, weakly.

“Oh I know you can do better than that. Try again.” He didn’t say it as a suggestion.

With a deep breath and your hand, still around the wrist grabbing your neck, tightening, you did what he wanted.

You begged.

“Please, please I want it. I do, please, just… just do something, please! Anything! Please… P-please.”

He had a pleased smirk on his face as he leaned in so you were only a few inches apart. You could feel his breath on your neck with every exhale.

“How much do you want?” He taunted.

“Everything. Whatever you'll give me.” You told him with a tone of desperation.

He smirked and looked at you approvingly before crushing his lips against yours in a brutal kiss that sent you to cloud 9. Your hands traveled to his hair and you pulled on it roughly as you kissed back with just as much fervor. You felt him groan into the kiss and you grinned, but it soon faded as a moan formed when he pressed his fingertips to your core through your pants.

“My, my. All this just from kissing? You flatter me.” He spoke against your lips in a low tone. You knew exactly what he was talking about. You were absolutely soaked. The moment he started walking toward you, you felt the warmth in your core building and it hadn’t stopped since. Your head fell back against the wall and Void kissed down your neck to your collarbone, leaving bruises and hickeys in his wake. Applying more pressure, he dragged his hand up your core, pausing momentarily to draw tiny intense circles to your clit before using his hand to skillfully undo the buttons and pull your pants down. He broke the kiss to kneel down before you and look you straight in the eyes as he dragged the pants down your legs excruciatingly slowly. You hadn’t noticed previously but now realized your shoes were gone.

Who would’ve thought Void wouldn’t want dirty shoes on the mattress. Huh.

He stood back up to his full height and looked down at you as he rubbed your heat over your panties. He studied every expression you made and committed them to memory. His expression soon changed to one of annoyance, angry at the lack of skin to skin contact between the two of you. He ripped the undergarment into pieces before taking a step back to strip off his shirt. He paused just as he was about to step to you again.

You squirmed under his gaze as he gave you a long once over and his eyes stopped on yours. Another emotion in his eyes, one you couldn’t quite recognize, clouded over his lust temporarily. “What?” You asked self consciously and moved your hands to cover yourself, thinking he didn’t like your body.

Before your hands could even reach past your hips, he reached out and grabbed each wrist, ignoring your shocked gasp and pinned them against the wall beside your head. “Don’t ever fucking do that again. You’re insecure? You don’t think you’re attractive?” He taunted angrily. He pressed his lower body into yours, his rather large, clothed, erection pressing to your bare clit as he grinded it into you. You moaned and he leaned into your neck again, being much rougher than he was a minute ago. “Ya feel that? That is all you dove. You fucking did that to me. You do that to me wearing baggy clothes and no makeup. You do that to me fresh out of bed in the morning with your hair in knots. You’re doing that to me right now, trapped between me and the wall, a silly shirt covering your divine breasts and nothing else.” He bit down on your shoulder hard enough to draw blood and you let out a loud moan. “You’ll take responsibility for it soon enough.” He arranged your hands to touch and he grabbed them both with one hand, the other sliding down, spending time to caress your breasts and pinch your nipples through the thin shirt fabric. He moved lower and lower until he reached your heat and thrust two fingers in with no warning. Without even letting you adjust, not that you really needed to with how wet you were, he started pounding his fingers into you. You started moaning uncontrollably and struggled to get out of his grip to hold onto something. He humored you and released your hands. Immediately they fell to his shoulders and then wrapped around his neck to pull his face into your neck where he started to leave his love bites. He grabbed the back of your right thigh and lifted it, wrapping it around his waist which allowed him to hit deeper. With every thrust, he curled his fingers and they hit you right in your pleasure spot.

Soon enough you could feel a knot forming in your stomach. It built and built and you warned Void about what was incoming.

“Oh that’s right, cum on my fingers dove. Let me know who makes you feel this good. Stiles could never fuck you like this. He could never bring you to such pleasure. To the point where your every bone quakes and sings in an overwhelming amount of pleasure that I alone am giving you.” His grip on your waist tightened to the line bordering between pain and pleasure just as his thrusts sped up to a pace faster than you believed even possible.

“Cum.”

And you did just that. Your bones really did quake and sing with pleasure. Your body writhed and you thrust yourself against Void’s fingers, grinding yourself through your orgasm despite him not slowing down and riding you through too.

Your orgasm slowed down to a stop and you took a deep breath before another loud and unrestricted moan released during your exhale and you noticed Void had yet to stop or even slow down.

“Ah, st-slow do-down-! It’s-ah-it’s too much!” You begged and yet he just smirked and increased his pace.

“Oh sweetheart, isn’t this what you wanted? You told me you wanted everything, you wanted all of it.” You swallowed in a lust filled fear as he smirked even wider. “So darling, you are going to take all of it.”

He led you on to another orgasm by his fingers alone. Your puffy clit was begging for attention after being neglected for so long. When you reached your high, he slowed down and pulled his fingers out. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop from whining at the emptiness. He brought his fingers to his lips and stared you straight in the eyes as he brought them into his mouth and moaned at the taste.

You blushed and tried to look away until his free hand came up to grab your jaw roughly and force you to face him as he licked and sucked at his fingers, prolonging your embarrassment.

When he was satisfied with how much embarrassment he could feel radiating off you, he pulled his fingers out of his mouth with a pop before he grinned. His hands gently placed themselves on each of your hips and he leaned in until your lips barely grazed each other’s.

“That little taste just makes me want to have more. Which reminds me, I haven’t had my dinner yet. Do you mind?” You tried to lean forward and kiss him but he just leaned his head back until you gave an answer. You nodded your head no and he grinned.

“There’s my good girl.”

He leaned in and kissed you softly, so softly it distracted you from the hands on your hips traveling to your butt and quickly lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist. Without moving his feet an inch, the wall behind you suddenly disappeared and he threw you down onto the queen bed mattress. You landed with a small bounce.

You looked at him in shock and confusion but he just grinned and winked.

Teleportation. Huh. Must be a nogitsune thing.

He kneeled down in front of the bed and ripped your shirt off before grabbing your thighs to bring you to the edge. You yelped and stared as he lifted your legs over his shoulders, the backs of your knees curving over them. He gave another little wink before diving in.

You moaned as his lips finally gave attention to your clit and a shock of pleasure swarmed through your veins. Your head fell against the mattress and your eyes clenched shut when the euphoria became too much to your, still sensitive, core.

A loud slap and the stinging on your outer thigh caused you to flick your eyes open and look at the man between your legs.

“The next time you look away from me I will edge you for three new moons.” He spoke right against your cunt and you could feel the vibrations surging through your clit. With a moan, you nodded and adjusted yourself to lean on your elbows and look at him. He brought his tongue out to lick a long stride up your cunt and collected your slick in his mouth before going straight back into his meal.

You had no doubt he would stay true to his word if you looked away, so you kept your eyes firmly on him, despite every protest in your veins to close your eyes when it became too much.

When the coil in your gut built up again, he could feel you approaching your orgasm and looked you right in the eyes. You blushed and were so tempted to look away but he tightened his grip on your thighs in a warning.

You came again for the third time. You tried your best to keep your eyes on him but they fluttered shut every few seconds as he kept licking and sucking at your overstimulated clit.

When he seemed satisfied two mind blowing orgasms later, he climbed up your body, one of your legs falling to surround his waist while the other he kept suspended over his shoulder.

“You did so well. You’re such a good girl, following orders with no questions.” He kissed you and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “They don’t deserve you, they never did.” He murmured against your lips before his head traveled to the curve of your neck and shoulder.

He took his pants and boxers off in no time, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick folds and over your clit.

Your mind was racing with too many conflicting emotions to comprehend: want, fear, lust, panic. You looked down and saw him.

He was big. Bigger than any guy you’ve ever seen, not that that was many considering you were a virgin.

“I am going to ruin you. No one else will ever be able to make you feel the way I do. Every time you cum from this point on will be from my body, no one else's.” He spoke menacingly while he watched in awe as your overstimulated clit twitched whenever he ran the head of his dick across it. The mushroom tip of his cock caught along your entrance through every glide up and down until he stopped and pushed it fully in.

“Wait, wai-ngh!” You tried but got interrupted by your own moan when he thrusted all the way in to the hilt, his tip pressed against your cervix in a mind blanking way. The sting of the stretch was there but was completely oversighted by the immense pleasure that came with it. You gasped at the feeling and wrapped your arms around his shoulder to scratch at his back. His back quickly covered in nail marks and marks of ash and burned skin.

You gasped in horror at the unwilled release of your fire until he moaned loudly - filled with both pleasure at the pain and entrance of your slick walls. Any sounds he had tried to hide completely spilled out. “Shit, keep doing that d-dove. Mark me all you want. Make me yours. F-feels so good; you’re so tight. Are you a virgin or something? You’re squeezing me to death, I don’t know how much longer I can take with you so tight around me.”

You froze at the accusation and turned your head the opposite of his, not answering his question.

A sigh escaped you when he started leaving kisses on your neck, slowly dragging out of your entrance before entering back just as slowly. An elongated moan left your mouth when he hit a certain spot on his way back in.

“Oh it’s alright my sweet girl. This just means I’m able to take another thing Stiles has been longing for. If only I was able to take your first kiss too.”

You almost missed what he said when he snapped his hips into yours harder and you sputtered unintelligible words at the movement.

“He-agh-he what?” You asked him as he left a soft bite on your clavicle.

“Oh yeah, I don’t think there was a corner of his mind that wasn’t filled with the idea of you. Poor little Stiles couldn’t stop imagining you like this.” He mocked. “He would’ve fucked you with your chest to the bed and you ass sticking up all nice and pretty but I don’t think you’d like that, would you sweet girl?”

Your heart skipped as he rose to look into your eyes. “No, I don't think you would.” He roughly snapped his hips to yours again before putting on a mock sympathetic look. “You want them to look at you as you’re getting pleasure you’ve never before received.” Another harsh thrust and you moaned loudly which he silenced by sticking two fingers in your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. Your lips immediately wrapped around his and you grazed your teeth along the sensitive skin. He tasted like salt and your cum along with a hint of blood. “You want that skin to skin contact as they bring you within an inch of your life and back.” Another thrust. “You want someone to make love to you, no fucking around.”

You moaned especially loud at that. You didn’t want to lose your virginity for something that wasn’t going to mean anything. You’ve known Void for less than two days and yet you feel more connected with him than all the McCall pack combined. It seems he feels the same way from how he’s talking.

“I'm the one who took your first time, and I will be the one to look into your eyes as you receive the pleasure I am giving you; I will be the skin you feel against your own as I move inside you;” He paused for a second as he leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, biting softly on the nub, and smiling as you whimpered in return. “I will be the one to make love to you.”

You grabbed the hand thats fingers were in your mouth and pulled them out before grabbing his cheeks between and pulling him into an aggressive kiss. You whimpered and moaned as he sped up, reaching deeper and deeper with every thrust. The hand that was once in your mouth traveled down your body slowly, smearing your saliva across your nipples as he played with them before settling against your clit. Just the slightest graze from his fingers made your spine arch up into his chest in anticipation and pleasure. He started rubbing figure eights into the pleasure bud, matching them with the pace of his thrusts.

Your lips opened in a moan and Void took the opportunity to shove his tongue against yours. He took control of the kiss instantly and rubbed his tongue along every inch of the inside of your mouth, exploring it like looking for treasure marked on a treasure map.

You tried to speak and warn him about your upcoming orgasm but you couldn’t drive his mouth away from yours, needing to breathe in through your nose every minute or so so you didn’t pass out. He pressed the fingers against your clit down harder as if to encourage you to cum and and you came beautifully. It was the most intense orgasm you’ve experienced tonight if not ever. Your body was shaking in exhaustion after the multiple orgasm you’d received within the last 30 minutes, or was it closer to 2 hours? You weren’t sure but honestly didn’t care. You could feel by the way Void broke the kiss and pushed his head into the crook of your neck along with the tensing of his back muscles that he was nearing his orgasm as well.

Then it occured to you, this whole time he was using no protection.

And you weren’t on birth control.

“N-no-agh-you gotta pull o-out. ‘Might get pre-ngh-pregnant. I’m not on birth c-control.” You focused all your energy on speaking despite the overwhelming overstimulating feeling of him driving his dick into your cervix and his thumb making you lose every thought that came to your head with his torturous but amazing touches.

He suddenly came to a complete stop inside of you. His dick twitched as the only sounds heard were your heavy breath and whines of complaint despite your better judgment.

“You’re not on birth control?” He asked into your neck, skimming his lips along your carotid artery.

“No.” You whispered.

You felt him grin that same evil grin you’ve seen before against your neck before biting down hard on your neck and withdrawing his hips from yours. You cried out at the feelings of pain and emptiness overflowing your senses.

“You don’t wanna have my babies, is that it?” He whispered into your neck with a tone that sounded almost heartbroken. You knew it was fake yet something in you just wanted to comfort him.

“N-no that’s not-”

He sat up abruptly, his cock now only half an inch in your entrance. The leg that rested on his shoulder fell to surround his waist with the other one and he sat back on his heels while grabbing your hips. His face looked so sad as he gazed down at you and yet his eyes seemed to hold a completely different emotion.

“Why not, dove? I’d give you everything.” His grip on your hips tightened and he slowly pulled your hips into his using only the strength of his arms. He slid back into you easily and his tip settled against a spot that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head and mouth opening in a low moan. Void grinned as he saw your reaction before returning to the pitiful look as he drew his hips back out again. His lips quirked up the slightest bit as you whined out. Pulling your hips into his roughly, he kept you there as you moaned louder. “I mean, if you really want me to stop…” He slowly started retreating out of your warmth as he trailed off before your arms wrapped around his neck.

“No!” You yelled before whispering almost like an echo, “No.” You breathed heavily in his ear, sputtering as you tried to get the next sentence out with his tip prodding against your cervix ever so delightfully. “Please don’t stop, y-you just can’t c-cum inside.”

He thrusted roughly into you again and your arms lost all strength as the mind blowing pleasure took over your mind. He repeated that cycle. Slowly pull out, roughly snap back in. Over and over and over. It made you whimper and cry out every time, wishing he would just bring you to the ecstacy you’ve been nearing instead of leaving you teetering on the edge of relief.

“Oh you feel so good baby, gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum.” He repeated like a mantra as his hips fastened and he pushed into you even harder.

Your mind was fogging over as you finally got the pleasure you needed to reach your orgasm. You barely had the strength to move your tongue and speak out your protests that were weakening by the second, you actually wanted his cum. You want it to be spilling out as you stand up, soaking your underwear as you walk around. You just were so scared of being pregnant. Your sister got pregnant when she was around your age. Your mother completely freaked when she found out and banished - yes, banished - her from the house forever.

Would Void stay? You still weren’t exactly sure what his intentions with you were. Was he going to kill you after this? Was he going to make you pregnant and leave you alone to raise the child on your own?

Apparently, Void could sense the onslaught of fear and panic creeping into your mind because he shoved his face into your neck and dug the pads of his fingers into your hips even harder. There was surely going to be a bruise the next coming day.

“Oh you’re going to look so good pregnant with my kids. God it just makes me so hard thinking about it. I wonder what they’ll look like, will they have your eyes or mine? God I hope they have yours so I can stare into them all day no matter where I am. This is the one thing I need to do to make you mine. You gonna let me make you mine, Dove? You gonna let me cum inside?” His pace slowed to a comforting, intimate pace. It brought you even closer to the edge just thinking he liked you enough to stay, maybe even loved you from how he was thrusting into you now.

You took a few moments to think about it before your mouth outran your thoughts. “Yes! Yes, Void, please. Please fill me up.”

He kissed your neck softly as his pace fastened again but still kept the intimacy from before. He pushed back the hood of your clit and started rubbing harshly on the overstimulated puffy bud of pleasure, making you lose all coherent thoughts and abilities to do anything but moan out his name. With a stuttered thrust, he pushed in all the way and came inside you. The feeling was enough to make you fall over the edge right with him. You both laid there in each-others arms while you tried to catch your breathing.

Void caught his a lot faster.

With a chuckle, and his dick as hard as when you started, he grabbed both of your legs, raising them so they were resting on his shoulders and he had you in the mating press and pressed your thighs against your breasts as he thrust into you with no reprieve. He pulled out of you before pushing back in, a torturously slow pace that made your body writhing and squirming. You gasped at the feeling and squirmed in his hold from the overstimulation. This new position made it so he hit your g-spot on every thrust in with no effort. As he brought one hand down to your clit again and rubbed so deliciously hard and slow, just like the pace he had set for his thrusts into you, you couldn’t take it anymore and came yet again. He had brought you to another orgasm in less than 2 minutes.

“Oh, you didn’t think we were done yet, did you, Dove? We have to make sure it sticks, don’t we baby? Gotta get you nice and knocked up with my kids. We can’t just stop now.”

With each slow thrust and the overstimulation, it didn’t take long before you came again and Void had the biggest smirk on his face as he watched you.

“V-void! P-ple-I can-can’t take anymore. I can't, I can't, I can't!”

He just laughed at you and your protesting words, capturing your hands that were weakly trying to push him away and forcing them to stay above your head where they were restricted of all movement. He pressed down even harder on your clit and you let out a yelp of a moan as you could feel another knot forming. “Darling, you don’t get to decide what’s too much. I'm in charge here, Dove, and you’re done when I say you’re done. You’ll take as much as I give you.”

His words turned you on so much more which surprised you as you didn’t think you could be any more turned on. You came once more and could tell by how Void’s face scrunched up in pleasure that he was reaching his limit as well. His dick pulsed inside of you, each vein had a throbbing heartbeat that struck so painfully good against your walls.

“One more, just one more, Dove. Give me one more.” He groaned out as he held his own orgasm back and rubbed rigorously at your clit while his pace increased to an unfathomable level. Finally, as you came yet again, Void released inside of you again.

He collapsed on top of you, his head landing on your chest, pillowed by your breasts. He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth as his slick fingers resumed their torture of your extremely overstimmulated clit. They rubbed slowly but it felt so much more intense than all the previous times that he had brought you pleasure. It burned in the best way possible.

“One more, come on, I know you have one more in you.” He encouraged, again. It seemed like he would just never stop.

He was utterly insatiable.

You came once more for the final time of the night and Void rewarded you with kisses scattered all across your chest for all of your efforts.

With your eyes barely able to remain open. and your limbs drained of any energy, Void looked at you with a soft look and gathered you in his arms. He grabbed the blanket that had been kicked off during the time of your… activities, and covered the both of you with it.

With his cock still deep inside of you, keeping everything he spent trapped within you, he whispered, “Good night, Dove,” and pressed a kiss to your temple. That night, you fell asleep wrapped in his arms, feeling more safe and at home than you have ever been before.

924 notes · View notes

tin-wufborf · 4 months ago

Text

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 8)

Hello again, and welcome back to Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics! As always and ever, thank you all so much for all of the likes and shares for this series. I hope everyone's finding some new reading material or getting to revisit some fics they haven't seen in a while.

No more yappin' from me today. We're just going to hop right inti it.

Smoochies and squeezies to you all!

List and links to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

************************************************************************

DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

************************************************************************

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

Keep it Steady by patchesjames (T | 1/1 | 3,155)

Derek had moved from the table into the gap between Stiles’ legs where they still hung down from the counter. His hand was brushing the bruise on Stiles’ cheek, his son unconsciously leaning into the touch and Derek murmuring something that sounded like, “He’ll never do it again.” Stiles dropped his head to Derek’s shoulder and the boy’s hand went from Stiles’ cheek to the back of his neck, resting lightly.

Up until now John had hoped this had just been some sort of whiskey induced hallucination, but now-now he wasn’t so sure.

Or the one in which Derek is even more protective than Papa Stilinski.

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

A Rainbow and a Grocery List by afullrevolution (NR | 3/3 | 5,987)

Scarred and scared, Stiles had to learn to be who is - to be comfortable in his own skin - before he could figure out what he wants. Once he figures out what he wants, however, he also has to determine the best way to ask for it.

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

Silver (vibrator) Bullet by nothing_left_sacred (E | 2/2 | 6,087)

Stiles hadn’t meant for it to become a thing. He’d just been interested in helping out his fellow man. He certainly hadn't meant for anyone to find out about it.

Or the one where Stiles makes amateur porn, and of course, a certain alpha finds out about it.

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

Waiting Games by Jerakeen (E | 1/1 | 6,315)

Being an only child and heir to the throne, Stiles had always known he may not have the luxury of marrying for love. When he’d realized he was an omega to boot, things had taken an even more uncomfortable turn for him.

Omegas are rare. An omega as the heir apparent is almost unheard of.

Which is why there is no wiggle room when it comes to the tournament.

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

Our Hearts Are Tigers by skoosiepants (T | 1/1 | 7,586)

This is what Stiles figures out after a week of harboring Isaac: he’s kind of a dick, for a ten-year-old.

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

we're painted red to fit right in by hoars (NR | 1/1 | 7,837)

"They're here for you, little wolf." Peter says, silky soft. "Ready to devour your soul. Did you think we were afraid of hunters? Oh, no." Peter shakes his head and chuckles a dark sound. "They're human. They die. They all die eventually. A werewolf wants a pack to fend off them. The Primeval and his servants. Only as a pack do we stand strong. Alone? You're easy. What did you think, Scott? We were all desperate to belong? To be family?"

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

Dirt Lots & Backstops by Onlymystory (T | 3/3 | 8,653)

Written for Holly, who won one of my Sterek Campaign fics. Her request was "Sterek and baseball. Canon, not AU. Bonus for cheesy innuendos and the appearance of the San Francisco Giants." Chapter 2 has the second bonus.

From the sidelines, Derek waved a hand. “You sure you want to pitch, Stiles? It doesn’t seem like your position.” “I’m pretty flexible actually,” smirked Stiles. “But, I mean, as fun as catching can be, I’d rather pitch as a general rule.” “Are we still talking about baseball?” Isaac rolled his eyes. Stiles flashed him a grin. “Everyone handles balls a little differently, pup.” “Oh my god,” muttered Erica.

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

Valentine's Day Candy in Aisle Four by linksofmemories_archive (E | 1/1 | 8,998)

“It’s so commercialist, and all it does is bring people down who don’t have a special someone.”

“Basically.”

“Are you two seriously discussing your hatred of Valentine’s Day when a man with a gun is walking around the store?”

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

covalent bonds series by HalfFizzbin (3 works | T-E | 9,204)

Derek's a hot nerd. Stiles is a nerdy jock. A LOVE STORY FOR THE AGES.

1. seems to me it's chemistry (T | 1/1 | 4,153) Awkward Nerd Derek has been crushing on Handsome Jock Stiles since forever—so getting paired with him on a Chemistry project is definitely the best/worst thing that's ever happened to him. 2. positively charged (E | 1/1 | 3,379) Derek takes Stiles home to meet his family. It's a terrible idea. 3. soluble (E | 1/1 | 1,672) Derek comes back after summer break all hot, beardy and brace-less. Stiles honestly has no idea what everyone's freaking out about.

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

The Morning When It's Clear by BarlowGirl (E | 1/1 | 13,593)

“She makes me have dinner with her and the Sheriff every week,” Derek admits. “She keeps saying I don’t eat well enough. Too much fast food, she says. I keep reminding her I’m a werewolf and then I get a lecture about cholesterol. That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Did you accidentally puppy-dog eye her?” Scott asks seriously.

“I – no? What the hell, no.” He levels a glare at Scott. “And dog jokes aren’t funny.”

Scott laughs. “You totally did. Oh my God. That’s priceless.”

Or: Derek feels, basically.

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

Five Times Stiles Doesn't Actually Need A Condom (And One Time He Does) by otter (M | 1/1 | 14,481)

Stiles doesn't actually mean to become Beacon Hills High's go-to guy for free condoms and sex advice. It just happens.

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

Taylor by Ashabadash (T | 12/12 | 14,565)

When Derek’s nephew gets dropped off on his front porch one Saturday morning, Derek realizes his life is never going to actually fit into the category of normal. But when a local witch has bounty on the poor kid’s head, and isn’t afraid to hurt innocent people in the process, Derek realizes normal is really just a fantasy.

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

Mermaider by nothing_left_sacred (M | 3/3 | 15,517)

“So what you’re saying is; you’re a mermaid princess.” Erica concluded.

“Yes, clearly. That is what I am saying. Thank you for putting it so concisely.” Stiles sassed, frowning at her. He wasn’t fucking Ariel; this was so far from being a Disney movie it wasn't even funny.

Or the one where a perfectly normal Beach Vacation escalates way too quickly, because this is Stiles' life.

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

Bones Straining Under the Weight by weathervaanes (E | 1/1 | 15,645)

One of Stiles' favorite things about life is Derek Hale's food blog. He never expects to meet the man in person.

“Derek,” he says again, and the name feels very strange on his tongue. “You don’t mean Derek Hale.”

His professor’s eyebrows reach up, eyes widening. “You read his blog?”

"Uh. Worship. Would be a better more descriptive word. That is Derek Hale?"

Jimmy chuckles. "Good-looking guy, huh?"

"You mean to tell me the Food Network hasn't snatched him up to dethrone everyone else from daytime TV."

Jimmy smiles a small private smile. "I don't think TV is his medium."

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Shy?"

The man laughs heartily at that. "No, I wouldn't say that. He just has particular forms of expression, like eyebrows and chili powder."

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

que tu m'aimais encore by magneticwave (T | 1/1 | 19,931)

Wolves mate for life, don’t they?

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

Thirteen O'Clock by kyrene (E | 3/3 | 22,213)

The thing about an actual real-life cockatrice that none of them had known, which would have been good to know before the fact, was that it wasn't just its gaze that could kill a man.

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

Resurrection by Amethystina (T | 3/3 | 24,754)

Derek hadn't planned to die, least of all when he had finally started to acknowledge the growing attraction he felt for Stiles — an attraction he knew was mutual. But die he did, his soul ending up in Purgatory just like he had been told that it would. Despite this he felt unable to let go. He couldn't forget the life he had left behind — his hopes for the future.

So when the opportunity presents itself for Derek to return to the land of the living, he takes it, heedless of the rules he might be breaking. Even partnering with a hunter seems like a small price to pay.

Dean Winchester can get Derek out of Purgatory and back to Stiles. Derek's willing to take that chance.

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

I Saw Lon Cheney Jr Walking With The (Drag) Queen by scarletjedi (E | 8/8 | 41,248)

When Stiles is entered in an Amateur Drag Competition, he thinks it's just what he needs to recharge his batteries after everything that's happened. He never accounted for just how much performing as someone else will make him confront himself. Something has to change, because as Ru says, "if you can't love yourself, how the hell can you love somebody else?"

Can I get an amen? Let the Music Play.

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

He's Not Mine by Sunnee (E | 19/19 | 68,534)

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

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

Stiles's Story Time by trilliath (E | 16/16 | 125,851)

Where Stiles is a librarian who is in charge of the kids' reading hour and such. And Derek is 6-year-old Scott's adoptive dad. And Stiles has his own take on Stories and Scott loves wolves and Derek tries not to admit that he likes the way Stiles's face looks in those glasses. Or something like that.

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

************************************************************************

#teen wolf #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek fic rec list #sterek fic rec #fic rec list #rec list #fic rec #tin's rec lists

85 notes · View notes

sourmiguel · 10 months ago

Text

Just the Same by @catswift (wc68066, general)

Summary: Something is seriously up with the captain of the lacrosse team. There's just no way Derek Hale is human. *** “I was wondering if you're even human. You move so quickly. I mean, it's ridiculously fast. No human should be able to move that fast, y'know? It's unfair for us. I mean, it's obvious you work out, and I don't, so that could be why, but like...I was just wondering if you were human, that's all.” “Stop talking, Stilinski, or I'll—” “Put me on the bench all season?” Stiles asks knowing full well that Derek Hale can't threaten him with shit.

I love the build of their relationship in this one. Derek going to high school with Stiles fics are some of the most interesting - to explore how he would have been in high school. Also love the Hale fam in this one, too.

#fic rec #sterek #sterek au

146 notes · View notes

sterekweek-2024 · 3 months ago

Text

Sterek Week 2024 FAQs

Event Information

About the page:

Sterek Week is a celebration of our beloved pairing Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale. It’s a week long event with daily themes meant to inspire fans to create and share their works!

The admins:

This year’s Sterek Week is brought to you by @boymeetswerewolf , @kcfriedchicken, and @halinski

How it works:

Every day has a theme. Works must be inspired by or related to the theme. All kinds of works are accepted (fanart, fanfiction, edits, graphics, playlists, moodboards, headcanons/plotbunnies whatever you can think of!)

It just has to be Sterek 😊

All works should use the corresponding day tags so we can find them. Post on the day of theme, with the correct tag, and it will be reblogged to Sterek Week '24.

We accept late entries, so if you are running behind still post it! We continue to check the previous tags throughout the week.

Sterek Week Timeline

August 25th: The Sterek Week admins finalize this years themes

September 1st: We share the themes with you!

September 1st - October 17th: The Sterek Week admins are hard at work on the tags, art, and daily posts for Sterek Week '24

October 18th: We share the daily tags and Sterek Week '24 tag with all of you

October 25th - October 31st: STEREK WEEK TAKES PLACE

Frequently Asked Questions

Is there a word limit or format for written pieces?

Nope! We accept all lengths of works and all different kinds of works, be it drabbles, ficlets, poems, one-shots, whatever you’re comfortable with!

What about artworks, or other mediums/playlists/moodboards/edits? Are there any formats/limitations?

We just want you to be creative! As long as it’s sterek in some way and fits within parameters of the themes and guidelines, create away and tag us!

What about NSFW works?

NSFW works are accepted, we just require them to be tagged accordingly and of course, they need to be posted according to Tumblr’s guidelines, as well as any other hosting site’s.

Can I talk about my work(s)?

Yes! As long as you don’t share it before the corresponding day.

How many works can I submit?

As many as you want! We’re ecstatic about every piece!

I’m not sure my work really fits a theme./It’s not necessarily perfect/as good as others. Can I still post it?

Please do! It’s the variety that does the trick. The sheer quantity of works in the fandom is what has made and kept us so strong! Just create!

Are AI works accepted?

Based on comments and requests from last years Sterek Week, AI works will not be accepted this year. Now that being said, there are only three of us and we are only human, sometimes we don't realize something is AI. We ask that no AI works are submitted, but if we find out later that they are, we will be removing them from the blog.

We ask that if you think something is AI, you politely message us and we can look into it. Please no hounding the artists directly as we have seen a lot of false accusations in the past. We can only count on people being upfront and honest and the fandom coming together as one.

Got anymore questions/doubts/troubles?

Send us an ask! We’re all in this together 😊

We’re super excited to see what everyone creates!

-Kiley (kcfriedchicken)

#sterekweek2024 #sterek #eternalsterek #faq

63 notes · View notes

crazyk-imagine · 1 year ago

Text

Breakfast and Shocking News

Pairing: Theo Raeken x Pack member!reader

Characters: Theo Raeken, Pack member!reader, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Liam Dunbar, Malia Tate (Hale), Lydia Martin, Derek Hale, Peter Hale

Warnings: Fluff, post show, Theo is probably ooc, cute pack moment, Isaac should have been in season 6a/b and the movie so I brought him back, I got lost in tw fanfic tiktoks and now I'm back on tw

Word Count: 918

Is this the start of a series like my gym one for Triple Frontier? Maybe, we'll see.

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

You make another bowl of pancake batter, making sure to make more than you did last time. God, that was a mess.

You had to calm down three of them and Stiles should know better than to throw a fit in front of everyone. He's older than them for god's sake.

You shake your head and scoop more batter into the second pan you have going.

Footsteps entering the kitchen alarm you but enough to make you worry.

"Hey," he pecks your cheek.

"Someone else could be up, you know."

"I already checked." He taps his ears.

"Really?" You stare the chimera with a deadpan expression.

"Yeah, really," he says sarcastically, smirking at you afterwards.

"You're not cute."

"Oh, I think you're wrong. I'm," he wraps his arms around your waist. "Adorable and as your adorable boyfriend, it's my duty to tell you that," he pecks your neck, the spot underneath your ear. "Your pancakes are close to burning."

Your eyes widen. "Oh, crap." You remove yourself from his grasp and remove the pancakes from the pans. "Go sit down. You can get started on breakfast before everyone else wakes up."

"As long as you eat with me." He turns off the stove, pulling you with him.

"But I-"

He sits down, pulling you down beside him. He prepares your plate before making his own. "Eat." His free arm wraps around your back, his hand landing on your hip, keeping you close.

"Sometimes I wonder how you were ever a bad guy," you comment, cutting up your pancake.

"Stiles says the same thing but more sarcastically."

"It'd be alarming if he didn't use sarcasm." You look for your glass and realize you didn't get something to drink for either of you. "Do you want milk or juice?" You look in the fridge.

"I'm not Liam."

You purse your lips. "Just because he's younger and doesn't like coffee, doesn't make him a child."

He gives you a look.

"Don't be mean. He's a nice guy."

You reach for a mug in the cabinet.

"He has a crush on you."

"He does not."

"He follows you around like a puppy."

"He says I'm like an older sister to him."

"So, he doesn't get his ass kicked."

"You got punched by him at least three times."

Theo scoffs. "Did he tell you that?"

"Everyone has."

He shakes his head, stabbing his fork into his food. "I let him."

"Sure, you did." You place the mugs beside the plates and sit back down. "I'd still call you to kick somebody's ass for me," you tell him, wanting him to feel better.

"Yeah?"

You nod, "of course I would. Also, not to mention how hot you look when you shifted."

"You think I'm hot?" He turns to you.

You pause in your bite, slowly swallowing. "No?"

"You do. You think I'm hot."

You scoff, pushing him away. "I didn't say that."

"You said I'm hot," he repeats to tease you.

"No," you whine when he leans in.

"What did I just walk into?"

You both freeze, slowly turning to face the human of the pack. "Hey, Stiles."

"Don't "hey Stiles" me." He points between the two of you. "What's a- what's going on here?"

"We're having breakfast."

"You're looking a little close for people having breakfast."

"What's it to you?" Asks Theo.

"Something you want to tell your friendly neighborhood FBI Agent?"

You two glance at one another and shrug. "No."

He nods and ventures over to the coffee maker. "I don't buy it."

Some of the other pack members wander into the kitchen.

"Did Stiles find out?"

"Little bit," you tell her, pinching your fingers together, leaving a bit of space between your thumb and index finger.

"I don't get it."

"He's about to figure it out," Liam tells the were-coyote.

"Oh."

"Wait- you guys know they're dating?!" Stiles screeches.

"Uh," Malia, Liam, and Brett make the same noise.

"No?" Scott chimes in.

"Oh, please. It was painfully obvious from the start."

"How did you get in?" The true alpha asks Peter.

"When I got here," Derek adds.

"When did you get in?" Stiles asks.

"A few minutes ago."

"Is everyone here?" Malia asks.

"Now, we are," Lydia interrupts.

"Great. How many of you knew these two were dating?"

Everyone raises their hands, except for Liam.

"Okay, I'm not the only one."

"I was the one who got them together."

"Oh, great so everyone knew before me."

"Guess so," you shrug.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"We knew you'd judge."

He scoffs, "I wouldn’t-"

"I asked you a hypothetical question and asked how you would feel if I was dating someone from the pack."

"Uh huh... and?"

"You said rip the band aid off and I said Theo. You told me to put the band aid back on and pretended I didn’t say anything after that."

"And your point is?"

"You didn’t want to accept it therefore I didn't actually tell you."

"I can- I can accept it."

"You can't," Isaac pats his shoulder before pushing him out of the way.

"When did you get into town?"

"This morning."

"Hence the big batch for breakfast," you answer.

"You knew he was coming?"

"Of course, I did. I picked him up."

"I did," Theo corrects you.

"It was a team effort, sweetheart." You pat his knee.

"Ew. Please, I'm trying to enjoy my coffee."

"Like you need something else to get you all jittery," you tell the human.

He sarcastically laughs in return.

Taglist

@kmc1989

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #theo raeken #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken imagines #theo raeken fanfic #theo raeken fanfiction #theo raeken x reader #theo raeken x you #theo raeken x pack member reader #theo raeken x pack member!reader #crazyk-imagine

333 notes · View notes

usermischief · 2 years ago

Text

Stiles Stilinski in Silverfinger (3x17)

Blackouts. But not for that long. And sleepwalking, which I used to do a lot as a kid. Um... also having some really bad anxiety. Panic attacks? Yeah, a couple. Oh, and I temporarily lost the ability to read. But that might have had more to do with this giant magic tree and a whole human sacrifice thing. I recall something vaguely about that, yes.

#twedit #fytwolf #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #dylan o'brien #dobedit #dailydob #obriengifs #obriensource #dailyteenwolf #filmtvcentral #smallscreensource #cinemapix #tvcentric #cinematv #*w:stiles in every episode #*tv:teen wolf #*usermischief

733 notes · View notes

patolemus · 5 months ago

Text

Sterek fic recs: ABO/Mpreg AU Edition

As per @oldefashioned's request, since this is for her, here you go. I tried to filter my bookmarks, so these are more about the plot than the smut. There's probably a lot of ABO without mpreg, but I hope some of these change your mind about it!!

1. Fire, Fury and Flame by IAmAVeronica

Stiles Stilinski was never going to be the omega who got knocked up right after high school, and then he's accidentally artificially inseminated with a stranger's sperm. Awesome. And the father of Stiles's baby just so happens to be Derek Hale. Half-feral, quite possibly a murderer, and pursued by a gleefully sadistic band of hunters who are only too eager to use Stiles and his baby to hit Derek right where it hurts. Joy.

Notes: this is Jane the Virgin if there were werewolves and abo. It’s absolutely phenomenal. That's it, I have nothing else to say, 10/10. It's completed!

2. I don't know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?” He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur. Or the one where Stiles goes thrift shopping and steals an alpha's shirt. And gets a lot more than he bargains for.

Notes: Stiles does something he's not supposed to. Derek is... confused. It ends up pretty okay. Also kind of an office au?? Anyways they're both dorks and I love them. It's completed, but you need to have an account to see this work.

3. Take Me Away From Here by Hedwig221b (also @hedwig221b here on tumblr!)

Derek Hale looked terrifying. With his broad frame and muscles, with his wild black hair and thick beard, with his eyes the color of blood and fangs of a killer. Despite his kindness and his apparent attraction to Stiles, he was still a stranger, a predator, a wolf. The thing is, Stiles would deal, but others might not. People found Lord Hale horrid, monstrous and unapproachable. If Stiles stood behind him, no one would touch him. He’d be safe with the wolf. If not from him, then definitely from everyone else. And that was enough.

Notes: of course I had to rec at least one Hedwig abo fic, they're the best! Don't you worry, there's a lot more in this list. This is a historical au... sort of. If history had werewolves and omegas. Don't worry, it works out fine. The whole world building in itself is interesting, because it treates omegas like a different species. Derek, my beloved, always and forever obsessed with Stiles! It gets dark for a little while, but don't fret, all is okay in the world. It's completed!

4. Scent Left Unsaid by bleep0bleep

In a society where werewolves are second class, Deucslist is an alternative werewolf network (similar to Craigslist) where humans and werewolves offer (mostly sexual) services. Derek is a long-term client of an anonymous human omega whose scent is just perfect. He never expects to meet him, until it happens. Derek has slept with that faded red hooded sweatshirt every night since he got it in the mail. It’s calming, that scent; it’s everything to him. So it’s strange now that Derek is smelling it wafting from the end of the subway car as it careens towards the L line, lights flickering on the passing platforms.

Notes: imagine meet cute, only Derek is too socially awkward to actually enact the necessary steps to make it a meet cute, and Stiles has to do it instead. Also using the good old trope of Stiles' scent being like cocaine to Derek. It's very wholesome, and it's completed.

5. Never a Hardship by Julibean19

“Derek, meet Stiles, your new bodyguard,” Talia says. Derek doesn’t get up. He’s frozen to his seat on the couch, staring at the man who will now be hounding his every step. “What’s a Stiles?” he asks dumbly, finally budging when his mother smacks him on the shoulder. “That’s Chief Stiles to you,” his mother says, scolding him. Derek huffs in annoyance, wondering how this could possibly get worse. “Senior Chief Stilinski is a Navy SEAL, Special Operations Forces, and has been handpicked by me, out of several hundred options. You will treat him with respect and do what he says.” “I’m a grown man, Madam President,” Derek says through clenched teeth. “You can’t expect me to listen to this guy. I don’t know anything about him."

Notes: I love First Family aus! And Omega First Son!Derek with Alpha Bodyguard!Stiles is just delightful. There's a lot of omega politics, and Stiles gets to be a total badass when he and Derek are not pining after each other. Also, Chris Argent, surprisingly, is the best. I don't know what else to say without spoiling everything, so just know this is amazing! It's completed.

6. A Sheep In Wolf's Clothing by dumpac

"What the fuck, Stiles, what the fuck?!" "No, no, you don't understand, Scotty, this is the best idea ever!" "Because you think registering as a fucking alpha to college when you're actually an omega is the best idea ever? It's not even a good idea!" Or : Being an omega, Stiles has few chances to be accepted in the college of his dreams. Registering as an alpha seems like a good idea... until his new roommate, hot-as-the-sun alpha Derek Hale, comes in the equation.

Notes: I know I say this a lot but this fic is SO GOOD!! Stiles pretends to be an alpha and IT WORKS because he's a badass, only things go a little bit sideways because he's not an alpha and Derek... well Derek has no idea. My poor man is confused. Also has a dash of good old discrimination against omegas and nepotism. One of my favorite abo AND college au fics. It's completed.

7. Untouchable by Hedwig221b

The day Stiles Stilinski entered the Berkeley campus was the day all the alphas went absolutely fucking nuts. See, omegas were rare, even more than redheads. Got to be extremely fucking lucky to even see one in a lifetime. They were supposed to be these ethereal creatures of beauty and elegance, irresistible and blinding. And Stiles Stilinski was exactly that.

Notes: another Hedwig fic hehe. This one makes me go feral EVERY TIME. Literally one of my favorite fics to ever exist, I think I've read it three times in the last month and a half alone. If you're looking for unhinged sterek with absolutely besotted Derek, and pretty omega Stiles who has only eyes for him, this is the fic for you. They are literally so great!! 10/10, please please please go read this. It's completed.

8. You Smell Like Mine by bleep0bleep, marguerite_26

People talk about the alpha instinct, an alpha's head being swayed by a nice-smelling omega, or the desire to drop everything and show off. Derek's never felt any of that. He's just not that kind of alpha. Then he meets Stiles.

Notes: I love Derek in this, he's trying SO HARD to remain nonchalant over Stiles, but he never stood a chance. One whiff of Stiles' scent and he was a goner, pathetically entranced. Good thing Stiles wants him back hehe. A sprinkle of Enemies to Lovers (and really, can we say it's sterek if it doesn't have enemies to lovers who are inexplicably drawn to each other despite their best efforts to appear indifferent?). It's completed.

9. His Only Defence by LunaCanisLupus_22

Stiles had just accidentally challenged an alpha. Oh God, and Scott had just stood by and let him do it. He was the worst best friend ever. Stiles was going to kill him. Except, oh right, the alpha was going to kill him first. Like beyond dead, ripped into tiny little pieces dead. So far dead that his dad would not be able to identify him, dead.

Notes: I honestly don't know how to explain this one. It's a modern au, only archaic abo rules exist and Stiles and Derek... well, Stiles is Stiles and Derek is Derek. They work it out. It's completed, but you need to have an account to read this work.

10. cheer up, babe by graveltotempo, SpringlockedSpectre

Notes: Derek is pining and makes a fool of himself all the time in front of Stiles. Stiles, thankfully for Derek, finds it charming. That's it, that's the fic. It's completed. I also recommend checking up graveltotempo's other works, they're great!

11. Love's Violent Delights by Dexterous_Sinistrous

Derek caught the way the man’s eyes looked over Stiles before lingering on his ass. He waited for the clerk to place the key on the counter before he reacted. Stiles startled at the loud noise, turning away from the pamphlets in the display box to see Derek pinning the clerk’s head against the counter. He drew in an even breath, looking between the struggling man and Derek. Derek briefly looked at Stiles, hesitating before he saw the gleam of excitement in Stiles’ eyes and the hint of lust in his scent. “Ever look at him, or any other Omega, like that again, and I’ll slice your eyes out with my claws.” He shoved the man back, not caring of the commotion that was made as he snatched up the key from the counter.

Notes: this makes me go feralllll it's so good. The Sheriff is imprisoned for what basically amounts to bullshit charges, and he and Derek share a cell. When Derek is freed, he looks for Stiles to make good on his promise to the Sheriff to take care of him. Somehow, they end up running from the law lol, my little criminal babies. Their relationship here is so uuuuuuughhhhh so wonderful! There's also critics to the system and talk about abo politics. It's completed.

12. Side Character by Hedwig221b

He should’ve kept his mouth shut. He should’ve smiled like always. Now everything was ruined, crushed, destroyed. Dust, shards, and the remnants of his pride. Love that no one needed. Derek’s gaze scalded the side of his face but Stiles refused to meet it. He had already revealed too much.

Notes: Hedwig, as always, writes such good stories! Seriously one of my favorite sterek writers! Stiles is oblivious and pining, Derek is also oblivious and pining, only in a completely different manner. They still end up together because they are meant to be in EVERY UNIVERSE. This doesn't have the traditional Alpha/Omega pairing, since Stiles is a Beta (really, the root of all this issue in the first place) He is very insecure in this one, but Derek is here for him. It's completed.

13. Made Your Mark on Me (A Golden Tattoo) by writteninthewolfstar

Notes: this is a very sweet one. Pretty light hearted, especially compared to canon. The bullying does get a little intense at some points, though, so if that's triggering proceed with caution. Jock Derek, my beloved. Stiles is a loner, and also very insecure on this one! But Derek is an absolute sweetheart and a real champ, so love conquers all. Has some Bad Friend Scott, too, so if that's something you're interested in, this is your fic. It's completed.

14. We Gotta Hide What We're Doin' by CharWright5

As a Bodyguard within the Stilinski Rodzina, Derek's one and only job is to watch over the Omega son—and only child—of the Family's Head, Stiles, a task that is easier said than done some nights. It's just good that the Alpha knows the best way to punish the little troublemaker when his bratty behavior threatens to expose a secret that could get the Bodyguard killed.

Notes: this one has a lot of smut, and the premise is absolutely killer. I'm actually very sad it's not 200k words long, but what can you do? Stiles is the heir to a Mafia Empire, and Derek an enforcer and Stiles' personal bodyguard since he was young. Stiles is a spoiled brat here, but Derek likes that hehe. It's also a secret relationship. It's kiiiiind of dark, since this is a mafia au, but nothing too terrible. To be honest the most explicit part is the smut. It's completed.

15. Survival of the Species by Lissadiane

“I think I’m dying.” Nothing makes sense – and now Derek has left him. “No, Mr. Stilinski,” Deaton says grimly, rooting around in his special cupboard of herbs and remedies. “I’m afraid not. You’re merely suffering from a biological imperative to bear your alpha’s children and strengthen the pack.” Stiles considers that for a moment, as best he can with his mind a hazy mess, and then he says quietly, “I think that might be worse.” “So, so much worse,” Scott agrees. * In which Derek's pack is apparently stable enough to begin planning for the future, and somehow, the universe has decided Stiles is the perfect candidate to bear his alpha's children.

Notes: honestly?? One of the best fics I've read about mpreg, not just in the Teen Wolf, but in general. It keeps things real, everyone is the appropriate amount of freaked out, for a while no one is having a good time, and there's enough to hint at body horror that my angst thirst is satisfied. Don't worry though, everything's fine! And there's no actual body horror, Stiles just has a very wild imagination. There's also not actual mpreg either, it's just discussed. It's complete.

16. before the world catches up by negativelyme

Stiles is a beta, so he’s never been a part of the annual Winter Mating Rituals that take over his high school. Or so he thinks.

Notes: this one is so wholesome! Derek truly is trying his very best, you can do it, Derek! Stiles' I'm-a-Beta-no-one-wants-me issues are getting in the way of true love. All ends well. It's completed.

17. All You Ever Needed to Know About Knotting by orphan_account

Derek had started reading the column by accident. Really, reading strangers’ questions about knotting and heat had never really appealed to him. However, at that point in time, he was a little desperate. And he was right: most of the questions submitted by anonymous readers didn’t appeal to him. The answers, though, did. (Or: In which Stiles writes an advice column about knotting and Derek is smitten. Also they're neighbors.)

Notes: it's pretty much what it says in the summary. Overall very wholesome, made me laugh. Derek is absolutely precious here. It's completed.

18. You Want Me Back by graveltotempo

Stiles and the Hale pack come back to Beacon Hills for a High School reunion.

Notes: classic 10 year reunion fic (or maybe it's not classic in this fandom?? Tbh, most of the reunion fics I've read are from KHR), Stiles comes back to BH married and with a child. He, Jackson and Isaac are the best of bests, and Derek is, of course, wonderful. Peter is also pretty great, even if he appears for like 5 seconds. Canon Divergent from season 3b, bad friend Lydia, bad friend Scott. There's an epic smackdown and the Hales are basically top dogs. It's completed.

19. Over the Moon by likeshipsonthesea

Stiles and Derek spend a night together, and Derek, thinking he's protecting Stiles, tells him it was a mistake. Stiles leaves Beacon Hills. He also leaves behind 6 letters to say goodbye to the pack. From his letters, the pack thinks he's killed himself. Meanwhile, Stiles is in NYC, living with Jackson, going to Columbia, oh, and he's pregnant.

Notes: Derek is an idiot, but his heart is in the right place. Misscomunication ensues, basically, and it escalates way too much. Jackson and Stiles' broship is literally the best thing ever, I love them!!!! We should have more fics with them being the best duo ever.

20. the Jurisdiction series by elisera

John is a pretty level-headed guy. He wasn’t always, back during his own Sturm und Drang period, but he married a firecracker of a woman and got a kid with an affinity for trouble like he got payed for ending up in it, so someone had to level out or they would’ve ended up living in a treehouse or Lapland doing god knows what. Anyway, getting a hold of his temper is one of John’s better life achievements. It makes him a good sheriff and it kept him from blowing his lid too badly those last two years when Stiles started acting out in a way that John had never seen before. But the temper is still there. He’s reminded of it when he comes home on a random Saturday in March after spilling his milkshake all over his uniform shirt only to notice he didn’t have a spare in the station and finds Stiles bend over the kitchen sink with hunched shoulders.

Notes: the first part of the series gets, admittedly, pretty violent. Everything after that is very wholesome though. The Sheriff is an absolute gem in this one! Also, the mpreg is a very important factor after the first part of the series, but the first part is mostly just sterek pining and the aforementioned violent events. I'd mind the tags. It's completed.

21. What To Expect When You're Expecting (A Litter of Sourwolf Puppies) by Brego_Mellon_Nin

The Sheriff sighs and plops down in a chair opposite his son. “Stiles, I’m going crazy here. We need to get you to a doctor. You sleep like you’re trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records, and your eating habits are bizarre! You vomit around the clock and for some reason only the tea your mother used when she was pregnant will get your stomach to settle down for any length of time. Is there something you aren’t telling me? Can werewolves get guys pregnant? I’ve noticed how you look at that Hale kid-” Stiles meeps and flails, sloshing tea down his front. Luckily it’s not scalding anymore, but still hot, so he jumps up and wrenches his shirt off. “God, dad, no! Guys can’t get pregnant, that’s ridiculous, it’s like...” “Like werewolves being real?” his dad questions, deadpan.

Notes: a wonderful accidental pregnancy fic. I love the Sheriff on this one, he's so supportive and actually has a hold of every single braincell because he is just THAT great. Stiles is also lovely, and while Derek is missing for like the first third of the fic he's great, too. This are pretty fluffy all around! It's completed.

22. I Don't Blame You for Being You (but you can't blame me for hating it) by LadySlytherin

Derek hits Stiles with his Camaro - 'Dammit, Stiles, it was an accident!'...'Why don't I believe you?' - and hilarity ensues.

Notes: do you know how there are fics that make you go 'I LOVE STEREK SO MUCH AAAAAAAAAAH'? Well, this is one of them. Derek hits Stiles with his car, Stiles ends with a broken leg, Derek gets to take care of him while he recovers as payment. Oh, and there's a fight about which pack Stiles actually belongs to, but that works itself out. It's pretty great. It's also completed.

23. Predators by Hedwig221b

He was born for this. Nature itself whispered into his ear where he should put his hands, how to twirl his tongue just right and when to bite. Stiles knew well enough that his saliva was currently working its magic on this unfortunate man, making him hungry, lustful, and insatiable. Soon, all his thoughts would be consumed by Stiles. And, just this once, Stiles would allow Derek to consume him.

Notes: to be honest, I thought I'd be putting this on another section, since this is a creature!Stiles fic (and it'll definitely go there when I make that fic rec list), but if it has mpreg then it has mpreg. This is actually one of my favorite fics ever!! I feel like I'm always saying this but it bears repeating, so: Hedwig always makes such great stories (as proven by the sheer amount of Hedwig fics I have in my rec lists lol). Stiles is so uuuuuugh in this one, I love him! And Derek! Oh lord, Derek makes me go feral here. Honestly, so good! It's completed, but do mind the tags because it gets... intense.

24. Disposition by Tulikettu

Stiles has an itch. A kinky, kinda dirty itch he needs to scratch. So why not go on the Internet and look for a complete stranger to scratch it? Derek needs a partner for his rut. What a coincidence.

Notes: alright so this last one really veers off track from the rest of this list. It's basically pure smut so if you're not into that, don't read it. It also doesn't actually have mpreg, it's just discussed (and barely as a subject, since in their current present it isn't possible). Also, the kinks are... well, they are. There are some pretty triggering stuff in here so please mind the tags before you read, because if it's in the tags, you will read it, in detail. Other than that, it's pretty great! Stiles and Derek are very obsessed with each other, as they should. It's completed!

And this is everything. I honestly surprised myself with the amount of fics that ended up here, I hadn't realized I'd read that many sterek fics with ABO and mpreg. I hope you like these, Shar! And of course, anyone else who bounds finding this, I hope you enjoy these too.

#for oldefashioned #fic rec list #fic recs #abo #abo dynamics #mpreg #sterek #eternal sterek #teen wolf fic rec #teen wolf #eternalsterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #ao3

208 notes · View notes