#stilinski hugs

[shrimpfriednuts]

There are so many layers to these two- it’s insane.

Stiles pretends to be fine whether he’s in physical or emotional pain, but he hurts. He hurts and he cares so, so much for the people closest to him. In fact, he cares so much that he doesn’t tell people when he’s in pain out of fear of hurting them. There are times he uses sarcasm to deflect what he’s truly feeling and times where he claims not to care about someone- but oh, yes he does. He’d jump head-first into danger if it meant saving someone he cares about. And he quite literally has.

And then there’s Derek… oh that poor, sweet man. Trapped in a place that requires him to be in the middle of danger; to fight, to maim, to kill. People taking advantage of his loneliness to get close to him, only to hurt him in the end. Which is why he puts up these walls, because he’s been hurt so much that he can’t afford to have it happen again. But it still does. Being perceived as someone who’s rough around the edges- as someone who’s tough and unfeeling. But he’s not. He’d sacrifice himself every time because he has nothing to lose anymore. That’s why he’s so “rough.” Because he doesn’t have a true home- because he lost his family- lost everything dear to him. He’s not something to be feared, he’s something to be loved.

And that’s why they need each other. Whether you ship them or not. But I really, really do. Both of them hurt. Neither of them trust easily. Neither of them like being vulnerable because of their own fears. But they could be vulnerable together, they can trust each other. The pain may never go away, but at least they can be in pain together and not alone like usual.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do. 

He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him. 

Was it Laura?

Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.

She didn't tell him anything before leaving New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just up and vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone, because she'd known without a shadow of a doubt that Derek would've only followed her if she'd have said a single word to him.

Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who he prayed to. Those desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.

Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.

Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't even mark graves, and grieve properly. 

That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.

Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.

The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.

The thought still haunts him. One of so many. 

Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him, tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.

In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.

Alpha.

Big sister.

But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.

He never told her about Kate.

And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack. 

Now, he remembers that last time. 

“I'm going out.” 

Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him, scenting him. 

It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back. 

“What's this for?”

“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”

Oh, fuck no. Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? Never again, not after…

He pushed his sister off him, gently; a stark contrast to the harsh words that followed. 

“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's bed but my own.” A single mattress on the floor of the lounge of their shitty one bedroom apartment. Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me alone.”

Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his guilt was constantly pushing her away. 

“Where do you go to, little brother? You might not be clinging to me anymore, night after night, nightmare after nightmare, but you're rarely in your own bed most mornings.”

She hadn't meant it as a dig. Derek knew that. She was his sister, and she loved him.

Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.

Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars, and hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperate to find scumbags to taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.

Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.

“Just—out.”

Then Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back. 

That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.

It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since. 

Now here he is—standing in his stupid big loft that he bought for his betas, yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, with skinny yet strong arms wrapping as far around his shoulders as they'll reach. 

Stiles.

“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect, his connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.

He knows all about those.

“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it. 

But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.

Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back, feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck. 

Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”

And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, Derek believes there could be something good in his life again.

More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly, and allows himself to be hugged back.

Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.

He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Because maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude? 

Stiles's dude.

It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less. 

“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."

Derek can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And, ironically, Derek feels as if he can breathe again. 

.

for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3 (unedited, forgive me!)

[moonch8ld]

Derek: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds.

Stiles: FORTY FIVE SECONDS?!?

Derek: No! Four to five seconds!

Stiles: Too late!!!

[inter-st]

I'm re watching TW and I'm on de S3C22, dudeee while Derek is fighting with Chris the only thing that I can saw was THE FuCKING THUMB HOLES IN HIS JERSEY.

[thatonedudeinthecorner]

Ohhhhh stiles stilinski you ruin me @tiffanyblewss help help help help help me help help help I’m trapped in stiles brainrot

[dcangel]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BOY<33

[gege-wondering-around]

Chapter 2 is out!

you know the tags but check them out anyway if needed. and thank to all of you who have read the first chapter, left kudos or anything else, thank you so much for your support🫂🖤

[rocketboots564]

Yo…. Stiles Stilinski isn’t even my type when it comes to what I find physically attractive.

AND YET

I’d beg on my hands and KNEEES for just a date, nay even a peck on the cheek.

PLEEAASE STILES, I KNOW DEREK AND LYDIA’S FACE CARDS ARE IMPENETRABLE BUT GIVE ME A CHANCE!!! 🙏🙏

[takaraphoenix]

Look who remembered that she wanted to post a sneak peak of Save a Hose (Ride a Cowboy) after getting home from work? This gal!

The premise: Stiles, Scott and Kira decide to go on a nice little post college graduation vacation at the Hale Ranch, where Stiles is quickly charmed by the hot, handsome married couple who owns the place (not that his friends can judge, they're too busy drooling over the owners' daughters, Malia and Allison).

This is supposed to be a supernatural free vacation, but what they don’t know is that the ranch is owned by a pack of werewolves… and Stiles fell for the Alphas.

--

To celebrate their newfound freedom after their final exams and the end of their lives as college students, Stiles, Scott and Kira decided to go on a nice, long vacation somewhere. It was a months long process of arguing where to go and what to do until they finally found the perfect compromise. A horse ranch.

Animals for Scott, fresh air and exercise for Kira, hot cowboys for Stiles. Everybody won.

And oh boy was Stiles winning the most. When they got out of his Jeep at the Hale Ranch, he couldn’t help but absolutely gape at the supermodel cowboy who greeted them with a smirk that made Stiles’ pants want to hit the ground. The man was absolutely gorgeous and at least twenty years older than him, which did make him even more attractive because hell yeah did Stiles have a thing for older guys. He was ridiculously good looking, with such a cut jawline, a nice, thick neck, a well-trimmed beard and the most dazzling blue eyes Stiles had ever seen.

“Howdy,” the hot gorgeous cowboy greeted with a playful wink. “You must be our new guests, booked under Stilinski?”

“Yep. Yeah. That’s me. Stilinski. Stiles. You can call me Stiles,” Stiles nodded wildly, trying hard not to drool. “I also answer to ‘good boy’. But you can call me whatever you like, honestly.”

Scott groaned and covered his face with his hands while Kira giggled.

“Stiles, we are going to live here for the next three months, why can you not even control yourself for three minutes?” Scott complained miserably.

“Listen, you know my brain-to-mouth-filter is permanently broken and it like breaks even more in the face of unfathomable hotness!” Stiles defended himself and, helpfully enough, motioned at the hot gorgeous cowboy. “You know what I always say! Go big or go home.”

Hot gorgeous cowboy raised an amused eyebrow at him, but before hot gorgeous cowboy (honestly, cowman. But no wait that sounded weirdly like Stiles was talking about a Minotaur. Which, also hot, but different flavor of hot) could say anything, another hot cowboy stepped up. This one, Stiles would categorize more as handsome. Salt and pepper hair and oh that gray looked good in his beard in particular, broad shoulders and bulging biceps and also with the pretty blue eyes, though these leaning a little more into steel-gray. Even more daddy energy than hot gorgeous cowboy. Stiles was ready to die, or perhaps he was already dead and had gone to DILF heaven.

“Well then, sugar,” hot handsome cowboy offered, an amused smirk on his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Chris Hale and this here ‘unfathomable hotness’ is my husband, Peter Hale.”

…Stiles was ready to die from embarrassment right now. Could the Earth maybe open up and swallow him whole? Was that an option? Had his ‘not gotten laid in months because drowning in exams and thesis and preparations and just kill him now’ brain really made him embarrass himself in front of the very married (very hot) owner of the ranch by hitting on him? While his husband was in earshot?

“Okay, I guess ‘go home’ it is then,” Stiles muttered sullenly, ready to turn around and drive off the nearest cliff.

Kira expertly grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar to pull him back. “You absolutely are not leaving. You’re the one who found this place, Stiles. If you can not control your mouth, you will have to live with the consequences of what it does.”

“And what does that mouth do?” Peter asked intrigued, one eyebrow raised.

A wicked grin spread over his lips and yep, Stiles was going to die. Turning around, he buried his face in Kira’s neck, allowing her to pat his back. Because unlike Scott, Kira actually had pity with him when he was being pathetic, sad and in need of being taken out the back and put down.

--

The full fic will come to an AO3 near you on November 20th so stay tuned ;)

[sexualtensiongrowing21]

Prompt: “I could see it in your eyes.” // Stiles x Reader

TW Warnings// cheating

Since we defeated Void I could sense that something was different. Everyone was just trying to get back to normal. At school I would go to my usual classes with Scott and Lydia. I even joined the yearbook club again.

Studding at Stiles house like we do everyday after school his mind seemed elsewhere. There were no small lingering touches. No celebratory kisses when I got an answer right. Just silence that I have been so desperately trying to fill.

“What’s been going on with you?” I ask Stiles while leaning up from my spot on his bed. He's sitting at his desk. Whether or not he is actually studying I don't know. He looks up at me confused.

“Uh-- What do you mean?” I search his eyes. Exhaling slowly I motion for him to come sit next to me. Hesitating a second he gets up and sits next to me wringing his hands.

“You've been different lately… distant..” I say softly. I can see his eyebrows furrowing in compilation as I play with the string from my hoodie. “At school and at pack meetings you seem fine. Like you're happy again even, But when it's just the two of us… I don't know.. It's as if something has changed.” My voice starts to waver.

He's concentrating on the floor. “Stiles.. Please talk to me. Let me help you..” I whisper. Trying to reach for his hands, he quickly stands up and starts pacing the room in front of me. “Y/N… I have to tell you something..” He looks nervous and he won't make eye contact with me.

I hold in my breath knowing what he's about to say. I found out two weeks ago from Mila. She came to me apologizing that she didn't know we were together. That she never would have done it if she knew. I never told him I knew. I wanted him to tell me. I needed him to tell me himself. I needed to hear the words.

Nodding my head slowly I watch him pace around the room. “I- I never meant to hurt you. We were there in Eichen… The lines on my back started to fade and I knew-- I knew that he was coming to take over…” He stops pacing and looks at me. “She was there… I don't know when or how it happened… But I think I lo--” I cut him off by slowly getting up and packing up my books. He didn't need to say anything else. My fear was true and I needed to leave.

“Y/N.” He called but I ignored him as I kept packing my stuff. Taking off the hoodie of his that I was wearing I placed it on the bed. “Y/N” He tries again, but I refuse to look at him. I've known for weeks and now that he's finally telling me it is starting to feel too real.

Tears are pricking my eyes. It is him reaching out this time and I let him grab my hand. “Please.” I whisper. “Just. Dont.” He looks strained. “Why are you not yelling at me? Aren't you mad?” I will myself to look into his dark honey eyes and shake my head.

“I love you Stiles Stilinski.” Tears are falling down my face and it's getting harder for me to hold myself together. “But I already knew..” He furrowed his brows while opening and closing his mouth waiting for words to come out.

“How?” He finally gets out. I pull out of his grasp and lean forward to kiss him one last time on the cheek.

“I could see it in your eyes.” With that I open his door and leave his house for the final time.

[toastybugguy]

CRYING SO FUCKING HARD AT THE WAY SCOTT STRAIGHT UP GIGGLES WHEN STILES RUNS AND HUGS HIM… HOW DID I NOT CATCH THIS BEFORE. biting my entire fist right now. tears streaming down my face.

[nartml]

I would burn the planet down for this man

[shiftingwithmars]

This edit genuinely almost made me cry😭

[thebigoblin]

Then, Now, Tomorrow

for @greyhavenisback. a mini-fic to celebrate your birthday! miss talking to you as we once used to but i'm forever glad that at least we got to know each other ❤️ real life might come in between, but it doesn't mean this reel life is forgotten! Right?!

Tags: Future Fic, as in somehow canon yet not related to that movie in any shape or form, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Fluff, Light Angst, in regards to Derek's Sad Past, Attempt at Humor, Let Derek Hale Be Happy 2023

"Oh, man, that was so fun!"

Derek catches him when he stumbles, his arms wrapped tight around Stiles' waist, and he laughs.

"You're so strong, dude," he says, admiring the way Derek's biceps flex under his sinfully tight shirt.

Derek puts him on the couch, but doesn't bother separating from him. Just says, "Thanks, Sparky," and gives him a look when he pouts.

Stiles rolls his eyes and mutters, "Dick."

"Big dick," Derek corrects, and it's so deadpan and so unexpected, Stiles nearly falls off of the couch, laughing so hard his stomach hurts and his eyes shut close. Soon, Derek joins him in laughing, and Stiles loves that sound, of Derek's happiness, his joy radiating in waves around them. Stiles wishes to sink down in it, to anchor himself to it, to stay here forever and ever, listening to Derek laugh, beautiful in his rawest emotions, finally free of shackles of misplaced guilt and justified grief.

"Be like this forever?" Stiles asks, admiring the curve of Derek's lips, the dip and rise of his chest, which comes to a breathy halt at his question. "Please?"

Derek's face morphs into confusion, frown replacing smile, and Stiles hates it. Wants to remove, change it back — take back his words, just to listen to that musical sound.

"No, no, no," he mutters to himself, "Stupid Stiles." He brings his hands up, waits until he's got Derek's puzzled acceptance of touching him on his cheeks, then stretches his lips until it's a smile.

"Smile? You want me to smile?"

"Nuh uh, I want you to be happy," he stresses the word, hopes the weight of his wish on it makes it true. "Happy Derek is good, so good, I want you to be happy Derek. No, ecas- no, ecstatic! Ecstatic Derek!"

Derek smiles, then, a real one, his bunny teeth showing and his eyes crinkling. Stiles' hands are still on his face, their legs a tangled mess on the couch, feet up and under each other's, the warmth of their closeness comfortable and welcome. Derek takes his hands, puts them down on a thigh — in his drunken state he can't really make out whose thigh it is — and comes close, so close, Stiles can count his eyelashes if he wants to.

He does.

He's on number thirteen when Derek huffs out a laughter, mutters a, "You're unbelievable," and presses their forehead together.

Stiles tries to fight him off. "No! Noooo, Der, I was counting your eyelashes!"

His hands don't try to push Derek off of him, because he doesn't want to be away from this embrace, but he still is bummed out and tries valiantly to not feel like he's in heaven when Derek giggles.

"You're so unbelievable," Derek says again, and Stiles, whose eyes had closed, opens them, just to see Derek staring at him. His eyes are the most gorgeous eyes he's ever seen; they have the green of the forest, the blue of the oceans, the golden of the sun, and the grey of the moon.

"You're so pretty," Stiles tells Derek sincerely, and moves so that his and Derek's foreheads separate, the distance between them just enough to witness Derek's cheeks and tip of ears burning a soft pink. "I want to kiss you so bad."

The soft pink turns a deeper red. "Stiles, we can't. Not when you're not in your right mind."

"All of my minds and my hearts would want you, ecstatic and pretty and you." Stiles tries to move his hand, and after a little delay — where are his hands?! — he does, and when he does, he puts one on Derek's cheeks again. Makes his open mouth close. "Is that a surprise for you, Big Guy? That I want you?"

Derek has no answer for it. But he insists, "We can't. Not now."

Stiles pushes Derek onto his back, and pliant under his ministrations, Derek goes. He won't say no — not to Stiles.

And Stiles hates it.

"We are going to cuddle," Stiles explains, once Derek is on his back, eyes locked onto Stiles', who is still sitting upright, his knees planted on the left side of Derek's hips. "I've always wanted to know if your chest can be a pillow. Like, it feels and looks so hard, but can it be a pillow too?" Derek doesn't say a word, just stares, and stares, and stares.

Stiles' heart breaks.

"Der," he whispers, and makes sure to keep all his limbs to himself, no part of him touching Derek's. He's cognizant enough to realize what's wrong here, and damn it if he's going to ruin Derek's great night out.

He heard Derek giggle today, no way is he going to ruin that.

"Derek, I want you to be happy. And if that means making me sad, then so be it. If your happiness lies in breaking my heart and breaking me apart, not doing what I want, then so be it. I want you to be happy. And know this: my happiness? It lies in you doing what you want."

Derek stares, and after a beat, he shakes his head, as if dislodging his previous, tumultuous thoughts. Then he says, "You somehow still make sense when you're drunk."

He sounds so sincerely puzzled, it makes Stiles laugh.

And it's that thought all over again when Derek starts laughing too: he wants to sink here, in this one moment alone, anchor himself to it until there's nothing but him and Derek on all his horizons.

Stiles wants so much, so little, too much: he wants himself to finally confess, he wants Derek to be himself, he wants Derek to be happy, whatever it takes.

And apparently what it takes is this — Stiles, almost asleep on Derek's soft yet hard chest, Derek's fingers in his hair, carding through it slowly, meticulously. Stiles' eyes closed, his breath on Derek's neck, Derek's on his hair, their bodies intertwined on the couch. Derek, voice the tiniest whisper, a wish, a hope:

"My happiness lies with you, Stiles. Having you by my side, this moment, tomorrow, hopefully forever. In whatever way you'll have me."

Stiles hears it, but sleep has him, so the only thing he does is smile against Derek's chest. Perhaps he feels it, because Derek's other hand squeezes his waist, a physical gesture of holding on to these words of today, tomorrow, and forever.

Stiles sinks into Derek's embrace, into that promise, into that night, and several years later he finds himself surprised still at the fact that it wasn't all a dream, but the first nights of many like that. Of them together, intertwined, each other's, happy and giggling and together.

Together then, now, tomorrow.

(now also on ao3)

[kit-middleton]

I just watched Teen Wolf 3.08 and I loved the way it used the unreliable narrator trope.

My random thoughts:

The casting for babyDerek and babyPeter doesn’t work. I couldn’t remember why I already loved Paige, then realized she played Ian Tracey’s daughter on Supernatural. Small world.

I loved babyDerek having the same (reasonable) reaction any adult watching this show has had: someone should really call security or report this older teen/young man who keeps hanging around the high school looking sketchy as hell in his leather jacket.

Oh good, Gerard has a Lucille.

Love how we’re pretending the adults are way younger by having the actors shave. That appears to be the only change made to their appearance.

I was puzzled by Peter using the exact line Stiles used on Lydia the previous season, then remembered he was in her head at the time, so: well done writers! (Or maybe it was a slogan from a Reese’s ad? I dunno.)

I barely had time to mentally respond to Stiles’ “how do you know that?” by “ew, he was watching the children have sex” before it cut to… babyPeter watching the children make out. He’s such a perv.

What was Peter’s plan, exactly? Maybe I’m too used to him only doing things that benefit him in some way to imagine there was ever a time when he was different, but… suggesting Derek get some rando, violent werewolf non-consensually turn his girlfriend? That seems like a no-win situation. (Maybe he learned his lesson and that’s why he asked for Stiles’ consent in season 1 then didn’t do it when Stiles said no?)

I have to say that’s a lot of rape-y tropes for one teen show. Yikes.

How did Chris grow up with those fucking psychos and become the man we’ve got to know? I judged him for violently pulling Scott from the car window and threatening to kill him, but from what I’ve seen in this episode that was gentle by comparison. He’s a kitten compared to those people. (Kit the kitten. Sorry.)

I love, love, love how my boy Stiles saw right through Peter’s edited version of the story.

Scott!!! It took only 3.5 seasons but he finally did something that impressed me. He saw through Colonel Tigh’s lies *and* threatened to kill him. Now if only he followed through…

That was fun.

Btw I get the Peter/Stiles shippers, but when do we get Peter/Chris scenes? (Except for the movie. And the homoerotic impaling. I saw those gif sets.) Those have way too many shippers for the fact I don’t think they’ve met yet.

I love Peter. Even (especially) when he’s being creepy and/or manipulative.

[blue-b-bro]

When you really want to read fanfic about Stiles, but you don't ship him with anyone, just love the guy