(insp.)
Tag sterek
I wish you would write a fic where coach finstock used to be the Hale’s emissary and is the town vet (instead of Deaton).
I feel like I get a disproportionate amount of Finstock prompts compared to other Sterek writers. Not complaining, just saying.
Anyway. I set out to write a real ficlet, but then I had all these ideas and one ficlet couldn’t properly incorporate everything I’m thinking here. It’s an entirely different season one rewrite and I haven’t even finished the first one.
Like emissaries are supposed to be pretty hands off, right? Maintain the balance and shit, working from the shadows, the mysterious advisors. But that is not Finstock, so if there’s an emissary guild, he definitely got kicked out of it way back in the 90s. He is one proactive and confrontational guy, and he would’ve been all up in everything going on.
Hell, I bet he’d go visit comatose Peter every week and rant about whatever was pissing him off that day, because he made a commitment to the Hale pack, damn it, and he’s going to honor it. And also Peter’s the only person he can rant to without interruption. (In this version, he doesn’t have an entire lacrosse team that has to listen when he talks.)
I still don’t know how Deaton saw that Scott had clearly become a werewolf, and just didn’t say anything to this poor sixteen year old kid, but Finstock? He probably would’ve yelled at him the second he walked through the door of the animal clinic.
“What the hell did you do, McCall?”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“Oh, don’t even try that, you think I don’t know a werewolf when I see one? I can practically see your tail—put that away, McCall, no one needs to see that.”
And poor, confused Scott actually does a quick, frantic spin trying to see his tail because Stiles never mentioned that part, as it been out all day?
Finstock watches, sighs, and takes a walk because this is going to be more work than he thought.
Like two days after Scott gets bitten, Finstock sits him down, tells him exactly what’s going on, and that he better be at the high school lacrosse field at 6am sharp, because they’re training. (He says this with that manic glint in his eye.)
Stiles comes too because your boss is literally insane, I’m not letting you go anywhere alone with him, and then Finstock makes him run suicides and shit too, because if he’s on the field, he’s part of the team, and the team does drills, damn it! If you can dodge a lacrosse ball, you can dodge a werewolf!
You think Finstock would’ve sat back while people are dying and there’s an obviously deranged alpha on the loose because “the balance”? He’d be yelling at everyone left and right. Derek Hale, you’re back in town? Then get your ass over here, it’s time for a game plan! Is McCall annoying you? DEAL WITH IT. We’re a team now, and teammates put up with each other whether they like it or not. THERE’S NO I IN TEAM, HALE.
And on that note, does he let Derek brood in his dead family’s home and scare off police dogs? No, he would march right up to that house and yell at him to get his life together—not that he cares or anything, but it’s really getting pathetic, Derek, I mean, really? There’s no ceiling over there, I can see sunlight.
Properly shamed, Derek would go out apartment hunting, probably with Finstock tagging along because you were squatting in an abandoned house, I don’t trust you to pick out an avocado, let alone an apartment. And of course, he finds something wrong with literally every place they look at (they seem like really stupid and nitpicky things, but he actually knows what to look for and he probably saves Derek all kinds of future headaches), so eventually Derek gets so annoyed and fed up that he just up and buys an entire building while Finstock’s in the bathroom and that how he ends up with a real fixer-upper of a loft.
“Are you blind? No, you’re a werewolf, so how did you miss the entire gaping hole in the wall?” Finstock later yells, gesturing wildly to said hole.
They take down Peter, Derek becomes alpha, and Finstock assigns him so many books on leadership to read, along with a stack of movies that feature his favorite inspirational speeches, and that’s how Finstock bullies all these idiots into a functional pack.
Oh my god I want this so much
#SHOOK
okay but this is derek stilinski-hale finding out his husband is actually a retired secret agent. comes in handy when [insert bad guy here] sends someone to finish off the last of the hales.
“wait, no, don’t take kissing away from me.” For Sterek please? ^^
7. “Wait, no, don’t take kissing away from me.”
“Wait, no, don’t take kissing away from me.” Stiles rolls across the bed and in a move more graceful than Derek’s seen before he manages to swing himself up and around so he’s sitting on Derek’s lap. Derek catches him with his arms and holds back the laugh, never over how rumpled Stiles looks in the morning.
“You’ve been grumbling all morning about being tired. I can go do some work or something while you sleep,” Derek shrugs but Stiles just continues to situate himself, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck and pulling him close.
“That doesn’t mean leave.” Stiles proceeds to stuff his face into the crook of Derek’s neck and nuzzles in. It’s always amazed Derek how wolf-like Stiles had been – craving for physical affection, fiercely loyal, cunning and brave. But the past couple of years of dating and especially the last few months living together have only amplified it.
“So, you don’t want me to go workout?” Stiles groans, making Derek laugh but he tips back and gently settles them onto the bed.
“You know I love watching you get all sweaty but no,” Stiles peppers little kisses along his throat and Derek has no hesitancy in tipping his head back further. “I want you right here, kissing me and cuddling.”
“Okay, I can do that.” He holds Stiles that much tighter and presses kisses into his disheveled bedhead.
Teen Wolf characters talk relationships and feelings.
THE ONE WITH ALL THE KISSING or THE ONE WITH FREE PORN or THE ONE WITH ALL THE JEALOUSY, so excited
The One With All The Jealousy
*
Derek’s not staring at Stiles. He’s not. It’s just – there’s a guy and he keeps putting his hands on Stiles; leaning in and touching the crook of Stiles’ elbow; laughing and clapping a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. The worst thing is that Stiles isn’t moving away. It’s like he’s enjoying it.
“Dude.” Scott nudges Derek with his elbow and makes a face at him. "Why don’t you just talk to him?“
Letting out a long suffering sigh, Derek ignores Scott and takes a swig of his beer. The guy is still talking to Stiles, and now Stiles is smiling back at him. Flexing his hand, Derek shifts on the barstool, trying to stop his claws from coming out. "I’m going home,” he says when he sees Stiles making his way over to them, dragging the guy with him.
I wish you would write a fic where Stiles and Derek run into each other at McDonald’s.
Our window is broken! 😦 Please come inside to order!
Derek stared at the drive thru’s order screen for a long few seconds, willing the text to blink away, but nothing happened, and the mocking frowny face stared right back at him.
The frowny face just made it more insulting, but it was literally the only place in Beacon Hills to get food this late at night, so Derek reluctantly parked his car, pulled on his jacket, and hauled himself out into the cool night air.
The restaurant was dead inside, with only one other person hunched over in a booth by the window. The employee manning the front counter looked up from her phone and straightened to greet him.
“Welcome to McDonalds, ready to order?”
Derek stared at the backlit menu, taking in all of his options. It’d been years since he last ate there, and their selection had expanded. A lot. He didn’t think he’d ever seen guacamole within thirty feet of a McDonalds before unless a Taco Bell was right next door, and the coffee menu alone was staggering.
He ordered his old standby meal from his high school days, when he and his friends would hit the drive thru at 2am after winning a basketball game, and stepped to the side out of habit to wait. There was no point, there was no one in line behind him waiting to order.
“Have a good night,” the cashier said a few minutes later, handing over the paper bag of his food. He nodded with a tight smile and turned to leave, glanced at the only other person in the restaurant along the way, and then stopped.
He had his head down, reading a book while absently eating fries, but Derek would know those hands anywhere.
It took Stiles a moment to notice there was someone standing next to his table and look up, and when he did, he did a double take. He stared for a second, looked around the restaurant briefly, and said, “It’s pointless to ask a hallucination if they’re real, right?”
I feel like Derek’s the type of teacher to give his students pop quizzes and Stiles is the type of teacher to smile fondly when Derek’s students complain to him about said pop quizzes
I LIKE THIS SO MUCH, but I also feel like a case could be made – hear me out! – that it’s Stiles who’s the pop quiz guy, like Stiles respects knowledge and dedication and cares passionately about what he teaches and is kind of a dick. It’s not his job, he tells kids, to provide an easy ride, but to make sure they develop some level of critical thinking ability which will enable them to succeed in life. Anyone–yes, anyone, Greenburg, jr.–who’s been paying a modicum of attention will have no difficulty with any of Stiles’ pop quizzes. This room is–what, now? “A temple of learning,” the class choruses, perhaps a little wearily, but by god they know the material.
MEANWHILE, Mr. Hale provides a syllabus at the beginning of the semester with every homework assignment, quiz, and test clearly noted. No surprises, he says, pushing his glasses up his nose, his voice soft. He sends out e-mails over the weekend that say the test is postponed because there was some confusion over Friday’s homework so they’ll review concepts on Monday instead.
Mr. Stilinski makes everyone participate, calls on people who don’t have their hands up, but Mr. Hale has them break into groups and then have one person from each group give an answer, or has them write the answer on whiteboards and hold them up. He’s really interested in exploring portfolio-based assessment for kids with test anxiety, he tells Mr. Stilinski in the teachers’ lounge.
When Derek does peer shadowing in Stiles’ classroom he’s always envious of how hard the kids are working, how agile they are when answering questions, the connections Stiles helps them make. The time goes by quickly. They laugh a lot. There’s not–he’s not really funny, he thinks. He just really wants them to get it and he teaches it methodically, the only way he knows how.
Ask Stiles, and he’ll tell anyone who’ll listen that Mr. Hale is the best teacher in the school, hands down.
Merry Christmas, Sandrina! 😀
This is for her lovely Sterek fairytale AU A Frog For Me Alone. Go read it!I had so much fun with this and I hope that you will like it, darling!
Hiiiii, I love your writing! For your new laptop prompts, could you do number 78 from the Angst/Fluff list with Sterek pretty please?? :)
“You don’t have to leave.”
Stiles hesitated while pulling his pants back on. “Well, I’ve got, you know, things tomorrow, and I’m sure you’ve got things tomorrow, so it would probably be better if I just, you know, stayed at my own place. You know?”
God, how many times had he said “you know” in the past thirty seconds?
Derek propped his head up on his hand and regarded him steadily. He was still naked, the bed sheet pulled up to just over his waist. “You don’t have to stay,” he said quietly. “But you also don’t have to leave.”
That wasn’t true. He had to leave. He had to get out of here before Derek realized how freaking gone Stiles was on him, before Derek realized that Stiles could not, in fact, handle a one-night stand like a goddamn adult. Or at least, he couldn’t handle a one-night stand with Derek like a goddamn adult.
But Derek was still just…looking at him. While Stiles was familiar with a lot of Derek’s looks, this one was different. And he couldn’t quite figure out how.
“Do you want me to stay?” Stiles asked before he could lose his nerve.
“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t,” Derek said. “But it’s up to you.”
Stiles closed his eyes. He wanted to stay so badly. But… “Are you sure? I’m not a quiet sleeper. Like, I’ll probably kick you off the bed.”
Derek smiled. “I’ll heal.”
Stiles slid his pants back off. “There might be nightmares.”
The smile faded, replaced by solemn empathy. “Same.”
Yeah, Stiles didn’t know why he’d thought nightmares would dissuade Derek in any way. He sat back on the bed. “I…” he started, but he couldn’t figure out how to end that sentence.
Derek lifted the sheet and raised one eyebrow, as if to say Are you joining me or not?
Stiles sighed and nestled under the sheet. There was one last thing he had to admit, and the best thing to do was to just throw it out there. “I don’t think this is a one-time thing for me.”
He whispered it, even though he knew damn well the only way Derek wouldn’t hear was if he didn’t say it at all.
Derek’s arm settled around him and pulled him close. “Me neither,” he murmured into the back of Stiles’s neck.
Stiles shivered, both at the words themselves and the way Derek’s beard scraped along his neck. “Oh. So, uh, does that mean–”
Derek kissed his neck. “It means we’ll talk about it more tomorrow morning, over coffee and breakfast.”
Stiles put his hand over Derek’s. “And maybe after round two?”
Derek’s laugh ghosted along his skin. “I think that could be arranged.”
theproblemwithstardust 