teen wolf au: shelter edition for stilesstilinskirp

stiles has always had a talent for art but when life responsibilities become bigger then going to college. his dreams get shelved as he takes care of his niece, cody and working at a diner to help make ends meet. but when his best friend’s half-brother derek hale comes home for a few weeks from new york. derek and stiles develop a close relationship as they go surfing together. their relationship turns from friendly to romantic very quickly over the time. things only get a little deeper when stiles sees how well derek gets along with cody.

things only get a little more complicated when stiles sister wants to leave for portland. leaving cody behind for stiles to take care of. which puts his dream to going to college much further away but only for a moment. stiles turns to derek for help. derek offers to help in anyway he can because you know, he loves stiles. in the end, stiles gets to attend his dream school and make a better family for him and cody.

Top 25 Sterek Fanfiction

↳By Any Other Name by entanglednow - Oneshot | 33090 | NC-17

He doesn’t know his name, he doesn’t know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he’s on the run with. But he’s pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

“I think you are,” Derek says grudgingly.

“What?” Stiles stops trying to decide if he likes his ears and looks at him.

“My - ” Derek stops and pulls a face. “I think we’re together.” He shakes his head, as if whatever he’s feeling is hard to explain. “You feel almost familiar, everything else - the idea of anyone else coming close to me is - it makes me want to break something. You, you’re non-threatening, you’re like a vibration under the skin, all tones of motion and enthusiasm, and you’re - good.” The frown slips away, as if he’d found the word he was struggling for.

Good? Stiles supposes he can live with that.

“So does that mean you - do you find me attractive?” He can’t believe he actually asked that, once it’s out. But he does genuinely want to know. He’s trying to piece together what the hell is going on, and if they’re together then Derek must at least find him a little attractive, right? Also, it’ll be a huge ego boost if the answer’s yes.

Derek throws him a pointed look.

“I did, before I knew you were underage.”

Stalion AU: Deucalion tries to get to Derek using Stiles but ends up falling for him. Derek finds out and attacks the Alpha pack and gives them 24 hours to leave the town.

AU: Stiles can’t keep his hands out of other people’s pockets. 

“I need you to stay alive,” Derek starts. “Are you listening? I need you to stay alive, Stiles. Because I need you. Because—“ Derek takes a deep breath. “I’m not good at this,” he gestures between them. “And it’s fine if you want me to leave, I’ll—“

“Say it,” Stiles begs. He genuinely begs with all the strength he has left. Even when he doesn’t know what he’s asking for. He just knows that there is something. There needs to be something to explain— this. To explain them.

Derek looks at him. He knows that look. That’s the look that makes him fall every time. The vulnerability in those hazel eyes that makes his skin crawl with desire to move forward and just— hold him. The look that makes the room shrink around them. The look that makes his stomach burn, his breath deeper and faster.

“Please,” he pleads again.

(x)

Every Friday we’ll present you our favorite fics. Please submit your favorites for next week. We’ll be waiting!

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I Can Smell It On Your Skin (I bet I can taste it in your blood) // ✭✭✭✭✭
NC-17 Words: 10792 (1/1)

Stiles’ cover is blown the day Derek gets hit by Allison’s arrow.

I Just Need You // ✭✭✭✭✭ - NEW
NC-17 Words: 10839 (1/1)

“Derek?” He’s surprised at how steady his voice is, considering he’s absolutely terrified. It’s been a long time since he’s been afraid of Derek, but the eyes looking back at him now are full of hate and the promise of death. Stiles shudders but steadfastly refuses to look away. “Derek, I know it doesn’t look like it, but it’s me… Stiles.”

Never Cage A Rabid Wolf // ✭✭✭✭✭
AU NC-17 Words: 48757 (26/26)

Stiles is sent to prison, and guess who his cellmate is?

The judge’s gavel hit the desk, and Stiles wanted to laugh because he had seen that happen and heard the echoing sound in movies all the time but never dreamed that he would hear it like this, for this reason.

Red Against the Snow // ✭✭✭✭✭
AU NC-17 Words: 34609 (10/10)

Little Red Riding Hood isn’t just one story. People are mistaken about that. Hell, Grimm wasn’t even original about it. The first guy to publish it was actually Charles Perrault, a french writer who wrote shit for the Louis XIV’s court. And damn, there was nothing subtle about it.

Stiles is trapped for the holidays in the cabin of a strange man/hermit named Derek. A strangely friendly wolf befriends Stiles during his stay. It’s up to the teenager to find out why Derek has secluded himself from society, what the feelings he’s beginning to have means, and what the connection between the mysterious man and the mysterious black wolf is.

if galileo gave us good advice // ✭✭✭✭✭
PG-13 Words: 2660 (1/1)

Stiles is glued together wrong. That’s the best that Derek can figure.

little things

~*~

“What are you doing?”

Derek shrugs, curls closer behind Stiles as he chops carrots. “Just saying hey.”

“With your hands down my pants?”

Derek’s hands still from where they’ve been stroking across his hipbones, sweeping up his stomach and chest.

“Do I need a reason to want to touch you?”

“Nope,” Stiles flicks the carrots into the pot. “Maybe you were just in awe of my cooking skills.”

Derek arches an eyebrow but kisses his cheek, pads to the table to set down mats. “Doubtful, seeing as you often burn toast.”

“What a good job you like it well done.”

Derek doesn’t answer him, and when Stiles turns round his cheeks are pink. “Oh my god,” he moans. “You don’t like your toast well done at all, do you?”

“I—” Derek’s eyes go shifty and he half looks like he’s going to vault out of the window.

“Don’t you even think about it!”

“I just didn’t want to upset you,” he says finally. “I like it when you make breakfast.”

Stiles stares at him for a second, bites his lip. “Sometimes, you’re so freaking adorable I don’t know what to do with you.”

Derek narrows his eyes at him. “I’m not adorable.”

“Oh, Derek, you so are,” Stiles sings, opening the fridge to grab lettuce.

Derek snaps the door shut, spins him till they’re flush together and he’s leaning down to bite gently at Stiles’ shoulder. “No, I’m not.”

They eat, eventually, and as Derek turns the light off in bed later, nudges in closer against Stiles’ back Stiles grins sleepily. “You so are.”

He feels Derek scowl against the back of his neck and tightens his hold on Derek’s hand because he really, really is.

In the morning he makes bagels, throws the paper at Derek’s head as he clambers back into bed.

Derek glances down at his bagel, all cream cheesed up, and smiles softly at Stiles. 

Stiles shrugs. “I do know some things, you know.”

“You know all the important things,” Derek counters, winding an arm around Stiles’ waist and resting his head against Stiles’ chest. 

“Your middle name is Alexander, you like your coffee way too hot, you’re surprisingly awesome at pool, you’re the only person in the world who likes Broccoli, you need a haircut, you don’t like having cold feet, you’re an Autumn baby—”

Derek tips his head up and kisses him.

“You like it when I say your name,” Stiles says against his mouth. “You like your eggs scrambled.” Derek starts laughing and Stiles grins, pulls back to look at him. “I miss anything vital?”

“I love you,” Derek says seriously. 

“Oh, I knew that from the get go, dude.”

“That’s the only thing you need to remember,” Derek huffs, reaching around Stiles for his bagel.

ember-to-ash:

kisu-no-hi:

Stiles was pretty sure he was going to die if he came one more time.

Uh-oh, I feel like it’s time to WRITE A FICLET BASED OFF THIS PICTURE.

+++

It wasn’t like Stiles had come with any intention of getting fucked. In fact, Stiles had just wanted to get some research done, really. There were alphas out there, and who knew who was going to be next? And Derek had said he had books, things he had found, information that could help them all. What was Stiles good for if not research? He was far too human to help in any other way.

What he hadn’t expected was the way that Derek was going to start kissing him. Or bite him, bruises littered up and down his neck, his chest, his torso, his legs. He had only made a comment, one of his stupid jokes about how Derek was allergic to clothing or how he wondered if going shirtless was a werewolf thing, maybe making some allusion to Twilight. He hadn’t expected Derek’s eyes to flash red, for his fangs to come out, for him to exact his revenge by leveling the playing field of skin bared.

And how they had gotten from the desk to the floor Stiles wasn’t quite sure, but he didn’t even have time to hear the books drop around them, to hear anything but the heated pants of Derek’s breath, or feel anything but the cold tiles beneath him. To feel Derek gripping his thighs, forcing his legs up, thrusting into him with heated slick.

He could hear the way that Derek’s feet scratched into the tile, and the air was thick with the scent of sex. It was round something, Stiles had lost count, and his cock kept getting hard despite how many times he had come, to the point where it ached and pulsed with a pain that was almost as enjoyable as the pleasure. There was no way that he could keep going, Derek was going to kill him, bleed him dry until there was nothing left. His own begging sounded distant in his ears, as if spoken by someone else. 

But Derek was already past that point of control, past that point of being honorable or considerate. He was taking his own pleasure with a greedy need, with a steady snap of hips, with thrusts that now caused Stiles to whine rather than moan. Fighting that feral need to take and take until there was nothing left, the gossamer thread of his humanity snapping as he reacted the warm body beneath him.

Stiles was pretty sure he was going to die if he came one more time, but somehow he was okay with that, wasting away from such torturous pleasure.

AU: Derek breaks up with Stiles before he goes off to college. When Stiles returns to Beacon Hills for the first time since college, he’s not sure if Derek would want to see him.

agentotter:

maichan808:

prompt: shaving/body hair removal
I played around with a more painterly approach for this, but little did I know how frustrating it is to fake!paint in Photoshop. I THINK I’LL STICK TO MY TRUSTY PENCILS FOR THE TIME BEING.

And thank you so much to the lovely niablackcat for writing this beautiful ficlet to go with this painting:

It almost gets to be too much here in their tiny apartment, as Derek sits on the edge of a tub that has no business being in such a closet-sized bathroom. Here, between Stiles’ arms, with his long fingers encircling Derek’s neck, the straight blade quickly reveals patches of pink-dark skin.

“That’s it,” Stiles murmurs, hot breaths painting the steamy, frameless mirror in front of them.

Everything looks old and battered in the cramped reflection –just like their souls– as Derek sometimes likes to think. But neither of them minds at all, because this space is theirs in a way nothing else out there will ever be.

I seriously want this to be a trend. Really. Can we trope the shit out of this now? Here, have another one:

“I have to admit, I’m kind of torn by this whole thing,” Derek says. His body doesn’t seem to be torn, though; it’s acting more or less under its own direction, knees edging a little further apart to give Stiles a more comfortable space between his thighs, head tilting to allow better access to his throat.

Stiles isn’t even listening. He says, “Mmm?” and licks his lips, intent on his task. He wraps one broad hand around the curve of Derek’s chin, tilts Derek’s head a little, and then moves in again, carefully dragging his blade against Derek’s throat.

Derek waits until Stiles pauses to clean off the razor in the sink, and then he says, “On the one hand, I really feel like I should take your entire collection of wolf behavior books out back and burn them.”

Stiles’ lips also curl up slowly in a smirk, and his eyes flicker up to Derek’s for a warm, familiar look that lingers like a touch. “And on the other hand?” he prompts.

“On the other hand, I’m kind of reaping the benefits of your obsession with wolf courtship,” Derek says.

“Don’t pretend you’re not into it,” Stiles says. “Mutual grooming is my new favorite.”

Derek doesn’t pretend he’s not into it. His body shivers a little under Stiles’ hands, but not because he’s cold. He’s warm, beyond warm. He reaches out, slips his fingers beneath the waistband of Stiles’ boxers, presses his thumbs into the hollows of Stiles’ hips.

Stiles hums under his breath. The razor scrapes, slow and careful, under the curve of Derek’s jaw. The shower head drips. Stiles smells like sleep and minty toothpaste and fabric softener.

He holds a blade to Derek’s throat and Derek sighs, closes his eyes, breathes it in.

TEEN WOLF STILINSKI FEELS: Papa Stilinski watches his wife and their newborn son enjoying lunch.

Guys, I don’t even know what I am doing, I just have a lot of Stilinski feels at the moment.

Sterek AU | Stiles was hurt during a run in with another pack and Derek naturally can’t stop blaming himself.

“Go to sleep, Derek.”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious, i can feel you doing your creepy watching-me-while-i-sleep shit.” Derek sighs. Stiles can feel him fidgeting next to him. ”Derek…”
“You’re not sleeping either.”
“I would, except my boyfriend won’t stop thinking so loudly.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Then stop.”
“Not for that.”
“I know. Now shut up and let me sleep.”

Teen Wolf AU ♦ Stiles is already a werewolf and part of Derek’s pack when the Winchesters arrive looking for some supernatural murderers. Sadly they succeed in capturing Stiles and they don’t believe that they haven’t found exactly what they were after.

Dean: Okay, Obi-Wan, cut the crap. Every frickin’ werewolf is the werewolf we’re looking for, which includes you. And I got some nice, fresh wolfsbane in these little bullets just for you. So you better start talking.

Stiles: Oh, no need for presents. It’s not even my birthday.

Dean: Okay, enough, I’m gonna beat the crap out of that kid.

Turns out wolfsbane bullets actually do hurt a lot.

hatteress:

agentotter:

#this is totally were!stiles being interrogated by the winchesters #and he is giving no answers and no fucks  (via crusingthroughreality)

HEADCANON ACCEPTED.

I really would love to see that crossover, repeatedly, in every possible position. Even if it would end in tears because let’s be real, everything the Winchesters touch ends in tears. Poor little shits.

“Look kid,” Sam says. It’s the third time he’s tried the good cop routine and Dean can hear it wearing thin. “We know you had nothing to do with the murders. But we also know you’re not the only werewolf in town.”

The kid tips his head and sucks on his lips, the total absence of fucks glaringly obvious. Dean is both frustrated as hell and grudgingly impressed because, hell, they’ve dealt with demons less sassy than this.

Sam sighs, and Dean has to cough into his hand to keep from laughing because that particular brand of exasperation is usually reserved for him. “Just be straight with us.”

For some reason, that’s hilarious. It takes a second before Dean remembers the dude they’d seen the kid with before they’d picked him up. Big, serial killer looking guy, sporting leather and a possessive hand on kid-snark’s back. Oh man.

Dean snorts and gives Sam patented ‘what? it’s funny’ shoulders when it earns him a glare.

“Trust me, dude,” the kid says. “I’m being as straight with you as…well, I was gonna say humanly possible but…”

A flash of canines has Sam rolling his eyes and sue him, Dean sorta wants to high-five the kid. You know you’ve been hunting for too long when you start rooting for your mark.

“You’re driving a stolen car,” Sam says. “You’re carrying a fake ID. Every word out of your mouth so far has been bullshit-”

“Says the hunter posing as an FBI agent,” the kid says, tapping a nonchalant beat on his water bottle.

Sam pulls out bitch-face number eleven. “Is anything about you real?”

The kid grins and bobs his head. “My boobs.”

Dean laughs so hard he almost pulls something.