(This is in reference to a post @alecmagnu made, just in case y’all think I have strayed so far from canon that I think Stiles is packing up and leaving for New York next season. Not that he couldn’t.)
Alas, with the greatest sadness in my Sterek heart, I don’t have time to fic at the moment but can you just imagine Stiles arriving in New York only to be picked up by Jackson at the airport???
Imagine him getting to Derek’s apartment to discover Isaac watching a movie with Cora and Stiles maybe panicking a little because the last time he saw Isaac was when Allison died. But Isaac just looks at him, makes some kind of asshole comment, and it’s just…normal?
Normal until Cora says “ugh, thank god. Derek wanted to pick you up but he was too nervous.” Which….what? Why would Derek be nervous? Does he not want Stiles here? Did he not really mean it when he invited Stiles to come and live- “stop thinking and go kiss him, Stilinski!” Which….wait….kiss? Did Jackson just say kiss? Not that Stiles hasn’t thought about- wait no.
Weird.
Imagine him going upstairs only to be crushed in some kind of teddy bear hug. At first Stiles thinks it’s some random dude who is just really friendly, but nope, that’s Derek. Giving him a hug. And grinning. With a blush on his face.
Again, weird.
But not really, because Derek looks…well, he still looks like Derek. There is still a slight scowl there, vulnerability, everything Stiles is used to seeing in Derek. But there is also happiness there. Derek is happy and Stiles feels scared, because what if Stiles undoes that happiness? What is he ruins-
“Stiles, no.”
“But-”
“No.”
So, that settles it then. Derek is still a show off, even more so here with the apartment being rwice as big as the loft and there is a park outside. He still argues with Stiles over everything, but he also kisses Cora on the cheek before he leaves for work (because Derek has a job as a teacher now) and hugs Isaac every day. He even gets on with Jackson. Well, as much as anyone could get on with Jackson without wanting to strangle him.
And Stiles is somehow just..welcomed into this little bubble. This pack that’s been damaged. Not one of them unscathed by something horrible, but somehow they have managed to make it work. And what baffles Stiles is that they want to make it work with him. What baffles him more is Derek wants to make it work with him. And romance doesn’t happen right away, but they become friends. Such good friends. They still keep in touch with the rest of the pack. Lydia comes to visit with Danny. Scott, when he’s got free time off vet school. His Dad and Melissa come to stay a lot, Kira and Malia tagging long with them more and more frequently.
They celebrate Birthdays and somehow make it work. They have a pack. A good pack and love and laughter. They have movie nights and go to clubs. And sure, there is the odd demon or supernatural problem that comes along, but it’s nothing they can’t handle together. So much better than before, so much better than Stiles ever dreamed of this going. They start liking each other, for real. As a family. Fragile, broken and reluctant friendships become more, they mend.
People move out, people move in. Derek rents more space, builds more rooms. Lydia and Scott have their very own bedrooms (although they spend less and less time in them when they come to stay and more and more time in Cora and Isaac’s bedrooms *blinks innocently*). Stiles gives up his bedroom to Kira and Malia (*cough* singular *cough*) because yes, he only needs one pillow from now on and that pillow is Derek’s chest. And ass. He is a fan of both.
This pack is happy. They are a family. They are everything Derek never thought he’d have again and everything Stiles never dreamed of in the first place. They create new lives and memories and they live happily ever after because they deserve that.
*wipes tear*
Tag sterek
How do I reconcile werewolf healing and Derek in glasses? Please advise. I just NEED Derek in glasses, ok.
Oh Lena, I feel you. I feel you big time.
Okay, so.
It’s pretty much canon Derek’s leather jacket was his dad’s and that’s why he wears it. But what if Derek had to stop wearing it because it was getting too worn? He wanted to preserve it, so he switched to Henleys and jackets instead. The thing is though, his werewolf-ness is what keeps his mom and sisters close to him, but the leather jacket is what kept his dad close. (I am going by my own personal headcanon Derek’s dad was human.) So say his dad worse glasses. Say Derek finds a pair that looks exactly like his one day when he is out shopping. Say he starts wearing them. Say they bring him comfort and he takes them off less and less, especially when he is reading because that’s what he used to do with his dad. He would read with him about everything. About ancient languages and mythology and fairy tales, and when Derek wears his glasses he just feels that much closer to his dad and eventually just starts wearing them all the time because. No-one really asks him about it. Not even Stiles who asks about everything because he can tell the glasses mean something to Derek. Something he isn’t sure Derek wants to talk about. It’s only when Cora comes home and sees him for the first time in months does the truth finally come out. She takes one look at Derek and whispers dad, letting out a half broken sob and smiling when Derek does that thing their dad always did and twitches his nose to push the glasses up his face.
That’s option one. Option two is Derek discovers Stiles has a glasses kink. A big glasses kink. At first he is really disheartened because he doesn’t wear glasses and how is he ever meant to compete with the line of people suddenly vying for Stiles’ attention at college who all wear glasses? Of course, Lydia eventually has ENOUGH of Derek’s pining- “you’re not that subtle about it, sweetheart”- and introduces Derek to hipster culture, complete with fake, cool glasses and a one way ticket into Stiles Stilinski’s pants. She takes him shopping for ones that look really good on him. (There is a movie montage complete with music, okay? If Lydia asks a lot about Cora and when she might be coming back to see her- uh, Derek- that is no-ones business but her own.) The first time Stiles sees Derek in his new glasses his jaw drops while other, uh, things, rise. *insert eyebrow waggle here*. (Scott finds them rutting against each other like two animals in heat an hour later in his bedroom- that is the last time he offers up his house for pack movie night- gasping out things like “what do you mean you’ve been in love with me for three years?”, “wait, you’ve always found me attractive?”, “can you just admit you put my name on the King for a reason!” It’s safe to say Scott is kind of scarred for life, but Stiles was good enough to remove his favourite bedsheets before pulling Derek on top of him, so he tries to focus on being happy for them and not Derek’s hand down his best friend’s pants. Plus, if he had to listen to Stiles get drunk and talk about Derek’s “cute little bunny teeth” one more time…)
Derek should wear a hoodie as well
This is for the @sterekdrabbles ‘ discord challenge by @allourheroes. The challenge was to {Fill in the blank}’s perspective on Sterek in 200 words! Hope you all enjoy some John POV!
—
John Stilinski was a patient man. He was a busy man. He absolutely was not a stupid man.
He knew the signs. He was young once, despite what Stiles may wish to believe. He knew what sneaking out through the window after midnight meant. He knew what the hushed laughter and muffled whispers meant right before dawn when Stiles would sneak back inside.
No, John thought as he stirred his coffee. He was not stupid at all.
Stiles kept rubbing at his neck, which was conveniently hidden beneath the collar of a shirt that he knew for a fact had never been worn since he got it as a Christmas gift two years ago from his grandmother. In fact, John would be willing to bet his one steak a month that the tag was still attached.
The rumble of the Camaro pulled up outside, and Stiles was clearly trying to hide his grin by pretending to tie his shoes.
“Derek’s here. Gotta go to his place, do some research for the bestiary.” And with that, he was gone.
John stirred his coffee some more as he heard them drive off. It was about time he invited Derek over for dinner.
Happy (late) Valentine’s!
Hi! Congrats on hitting 1000 followers! ♥♥♥ I have a dialogue prompt, you can make it as angsty or fluffy or whatever that you want if it sounds like something you’d like to write! “Why do you do that?” – “Do what?” – “Talk about yourself like you’re some kind of … thing.” Thank you!
So, I kind of merged two prompts here! @rieraclaelin, thanks for this prompt and your kind words! I didn’t use the exact dialogue, because I couldn’t quite make it fit the story, but I used the essence of it! I hope that’s okay.
Also the lovely @faladrast sent me a link to an awesome banner that they’d made, and asked if it would inspire any fic. So this fic was written off the back of these two prompts 😀
This is a little bit of post-nogitsune hurt/comfort for you all with Derek taking care of Stiles.
–It’s been six weeks since the Nogitsune was defeated. Six weeks with Stiles wrung out, every nerve scraped thin. Not eating. Not really speaking. Distant from Scott and his dad, unable to look Lydia in the eye, absent from pack meetings. Feeling less a person, and more a tightly wound collection of guilt and anxiety existing in an increasingly sleep-deprived skin.
He doesn’t really know how he’s going to keep going.
Then, at the start of the sixth week Stiles startles from the beginnings of a nightmare to find a wolf in his bed.
He’d been in that twilight of not quite awake that he seemed to inhabit so easily these days. Never fully sleeping, never quite able to allow himself to give up that much control. He dozed lightly if he slept at all.
In his dreams he saw Allison again. Her blank staring eyes. Her face pale and still. When he jolts awake he’s sweating, heart pounding. He doesn’t scream though; he’s long past the point of calling out for help.
Sitting up in bed, with nothing but the red glow from his digital alarm clock lighting the room, he feels the weight of the wolf on his legs before he sees it. But as his eyes grow accustomed to the dim light he can make it out. It’s big and black, it’s fur thick, claws wickedly sharp. It’s curled over his feet and legs, tail tucked under its nose, a warm, heavy weight.
Still Stiles doesn’t scream.
Doesn’t make a sound.
Just slowly reaches out a hand, heart still hammering in his chest, and sinks his fingers into the thick ruff of fur at its neck.
It opens its eyes and looks at him steadily, and Stiles looks back. Then, as he watches, it leans into his touch and closes its eyes.
It’s tail thumps once. Twice. Three times. Then it stills.
“Huh.” Stiles murmurs. “This is new.”
He fusses it a while, feels his heartbeat start to slow. That pressure in his chest start to ease. When he finally drifts back into that state of half sleep again, he’s aware of the wolf lying across his legs, anchoring him to the bed.
For once he doesn’t dream.
–
This is Stiles’ life since the Nogitsune: No sleep. Limited food. Body in a constant state of exhaustion. Mind in a constant state of vigilance.
He can’t let his guard down.
Not even for a second.
The last time he did something snuck into his dreams and took away his control. His choices. Took every callous word or thought he’d ever said or had and turned them into blood-soaked reality. Up until that point he thought actions were what mattered. That as long as you did the right thing what you said, what you thought, didn’t matter.
Now he’s careful. Second guessing himself at every turn.
Now he’s quiet, because he knows there are demons out there listening, waiting for an opportunity to exploit any sign of weakness.
He can’t be weak. Can’t allow himself any vulnerability.
And sleep? Sleep makes him vulnerable. One of many vulnerabilities his possession had exposed.
Up until the Nogitsune he’d considered himself to be a safe pair of hands. Steady. Loyal. Keeping a watch over Scott and the pack.
Now Stiles spends his nights trying to keep a watch on his own mind.
Who watches the watchmen?
Stiles has learned the hard way that it’s nobody good.
Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be..
Headcanon: Stiles is always cold and keeps blankets stashed around all his usual hangouts for blanket burrito purposes.
Stiles: hey, can you hold this?
Derek: this is your hand.
Stiles: yeah.
theproblemwithstardust 