nightshipsx

teen wolf side blog mostly focused on sterek | main blog: sparrows-corner | late 20s

[wellwaterhysteria]

thinking about teen wolf you are all so surprised. when stiles gets possessed and derek's like "oh you think STILES is the nogitsune?? (arrested development voice) Her? i could punt that guy across a parking lot why would anything want to possess him I Am Feeling Normal About This And We Have It All Under Control." and then everyone takes like two seconds to think about it and they're like "oh my god we forgot he's smarter than us. he's literally smarter than all of us oh my god. haha fuck. his brain is so big and he was already insane before this. and he's not even that SKINNY". that was good. that was fun. all of that happened word for word by the way.

[wellwaterhysteria]

i do think like at least half the interactions that people have with stiles are punctuated by the exact same thought, which is just "ah. shit. i forgot he's smarter and meaner than i am. next time you talk to this guy Do Not forget that he's smarter and meaner than you." and then of course they forget about the smartness and the meanness and it happens all over again. stiles is like "well i think we should drug and kill this person actually" and everyone's like "wtf why would you say that" and it's like? that's all he EVER says. everything that comes out of his mouth is a variation of "calculated murder is an option and i'd be so fucking good at it if you guys would just LET ME". why won't they let him. like. spread your wings, dude. use them to smother people or something.

[everything-but-the-not-natural]

@0dde11eth

[hedwig221b]

sterek

[fanficprophet]

In a world where Stiles dad never got off the bottle and Melissa McCall never found the courage to divorce her husband, Stiles, Scott and Issac are best friends. They take one look at casually violent, mildly insane season 1 werewolf alpha Peter and decide that that man is definitely dad shaped and imprint like ducklings.

Peter, who now has three little trouble magnet betas with no self preservation and wonder in their eyes is hit in the face by a sense of duty and responsibility. He tries to offload them on to Derek only to find that Derek is also a trouble magnet beta with no self preservation, wonder in his eyes and a deep seated need for a half decent father figure.

[twothumbsandnostakeincanon]

What if Stiles got left with scattered remains of the nogitsune’s knowledge and memories, but he struggled to organize them once he was back in charge of his mind?

Like what if he got his own childhood memories of Christmas mixed in with winter solstice celebrations from centuries ago. Or he can’t quite distinguish things Scott said about a new kelpie from the kelpie incident of 1876.

But worst of all is the languages. He’s been left with enough words and grammar from a dozen languages, with centuries of slang and dialects, that sometimes he can’t tell you what language he’s thinking in, much less speaking.

It’s unbelievably frustrating, because sometimes he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Suddenly everyone is looking at him strangely, and only then does he hear the Japanese coming from his mouth. He tries to switch back to English but ends up in French, although somehow with Punjabi word order.

It gets worse. So bad that he has to drop out of regular school and take online classes because he can’t reliably answer tests in English. It takes so much longer for him to communicate with the pack that he starts clamming up more often. Rather than spend 30 minutes trying to explain a plan that will be discarded anyway, he just stays back and hopes that he’ll be able to speak English when the current plan goes to shit.

Peter finally swans into one of these pack meetings eventually, and realizes something is very, very different with Stiles. He doesn’t question him immediately question him though, because McCall is currently putting together an attack so stupid that it might actually blow up half the town.

Stiles must realize it too, because he suddenly interrupts with loud exclamations and wide gestures- all in Irish Gaelic.

Peter watches, fascinated as it becomes apparent that Stiles thinks he’s speaking English. When he finally pauses and looks around for agreement, his expression starts to fall as he realizes no one understood.

-Until Peter stands up and says, “Stiles is right. If you provoke them into chasing you, they’re likely to tap into natural gas lines and blow us all to hell. You need to draw them in peacefully somehow. I like his idea of leaving small magical tokens to lead them in the right direction.”

The stunned relief that Stiles feels would be overwhelming to his nose, if Peter weren’t already particularly inclined to Stiles’ scent.

Another day, and Stiles cannot for the life of him, get himself to speak or write in English. At this point he’s gone through Mandarin (Beijing dialect), bits of Welsh, and old high German. In a fit of pique, he finally whips out his phone and sends a text to Peter, demanding that he translate it into English.

Peter sends it back, with the addition that the diner on sixth has a new black bean burger that’s delicious. When Stiles shows it to his dad, they’re finally able to go get dinner at a reasonable hour rather than playing charades until it’s too late to eat.

Stiles starts texting Peter more and more, because he’s the only person who knows enough languages to understand what Stiles is saying most of the time, regardless of what language he’s speaking, or whose grammar he’s borrowing.

Then he starts texting him just because he wants to talk to him, and then, eventually, they get to know each other well enough that Stiles finds out that Peter was a linguist before the fire. And a speech pathologist.

Peter hasn’t offered his services yet, but Stiles knows he’s working up to it. He knows Peter will bring it up in a manipulative way to make it seem as if it’s no big deal and he doesn’t really care. But mostly he knows that he should take him up on it. If Peter can help him get his speech organized again, he’ll be able to talk to his dad. He’ll be able to contribute at pack meetings, he can ask where things are at the grocery store, he can yell at other drivers in a way that communicates exactly why Stiles is giving them the finger- he’ll be able to talk again. 

But that will also mean he has to sort through all the bits and pieces that the nogitsune left behind.

Anyway it all comes down to therapy therapy therapy, both speech therapy and mental health therapy. Stiles manages to turn speech therapy into sexy makeouts but let’s be real he probably doesn’t have to try that hard because it’s Peter. 

[kymera219]

This is such a great idea

[olor-et-luna]

I just started thinking about the ridiculous amount of power a polyglot emissary would have, especially one as consistently and constantly overlooked by others as being a threat as Stiles is.

The rumors about how yeah, sure, the elder Hale can sniff out a lore while you’re still thinking it up, but his energetic and scathingly sarcastic human, his oddly unsettling and mildly terrifying emissary, he can read your past out of the shadows.

Because of course everyone is going to speak in their native tongues and home languages in private at large gatherings, don’t even have to be quiet as no one outside your family/pack/coven/clan/murder/kumpanja speaks it anymore, but folks still will whisper and be circumspect…. So how did this lanky kid who never stops running his mouth know about…That One Thing?

[endiness]

He's gonna twist his way into her head like he does with everyone. Including us.

[endiness]

/#there's something so compelling about how Stiles doesn't want to trust Peter #warns other people off him #but when he needs help he turns to him immediately #he doesn't doubt that Peter will help him in the hospital #and in the train station he's immediately working together with him for answers #it's such an interesting dynamic #Stiles please get it through your head that Peter adores you (via existential-decline)

[kymera219]

Stiles doesn't want to admit that he trusts Peter, because they are so much alike and he'd then have to confront the fact that he doesn't trust himself

[applejuice382-moved]

Stiles thinks Derek is the worst rich person ever.

He won’t spend his money on things he actually needs, like furniture or, you know, working lights in his apartment. But he will find any excuse to buy Stiles something he doesn’t need, and the price tag always comes with way more zeros than necessary.

Stiles thinks it’s fucking ridiculous.

It’s even worse that Derek thinks he’s being subtle about it.

———

Stiles will mention an old comic series that he’s been really enjoying, but he reads them mostly on his laptop from a subscription online. Derek surprises him with a handful of physical books from the series as a gift.

Which is really cool and really thoughtful, until Stiles realizes these aren’t later reprints, these are original copies. From the fucking 70s. When Stiles immediately interrogates him on how the fuck he got his hands on these, Derek just says “from a guy.” Stiles tells him not do to that shit again, but Derek just shrugs.

((Stiles ends up keeping them because they’re actually really cool and he feels a little giddy whenever he looks at them. Derek, wisely, never comments. Even if he feels smug whenever he sees them tucked away neatly on Stiles’ shelf and wrapped with care.))

———

One day Stiles rubs his shoulder with a wince, and when Derek asks what’s wrong, Stiles says it’s just the shitty mattress he’s had since he was nine. It’s not a big deal, the ache goes away after about an hour.

Not long after that, Stiles wakes one morning feeling oddly more refreshed than he has in years, without any morning pains. He just assumes that he slept really good. It isn’t until a few days later that he realizes how suspiciously fucking comfy his bed is, and that he’s woke multiple days in a row without being sore. He lifts the fitted sheet to find a brand new fucking mattress.

He chews Derek out — “Dude, how the fuck did you sneak a whole ass mattress into my room? And why the fuck did you break into our house when nobody was home to do it?!” — but Derek says he saw it on sale and he already dumped the old one. Stiles is pissed, but if the other one is already in a dumpster, then he won’t have a mattress at all if he throws this new one away.

((Derek had walked into the closest mattress store and immediately bought the most expensive one there that was the closest in size and shape to the one Stiles had. He was hoping Stiles wouldn’t even notice, but made sure to throw the old one in the dump just in case. That way Stiles would have to accept the gift.))

———

The temperatures will eventually drop low enough that Stiles brings out his heavier coat. He’s had it for years, so it’s pretty old and worn, but where they live in California he only needs to break it out for a few days of the year anyway. It’s not a big deal.

Derek sees this and immediately offers him ‘one of his old coats’ the next day. It’s nice, not too heavy, looks pretty casual, so Stiles happily accepts it. Until he randomly googles it one night and finds that it’s $800. For a coat.

He immediately tries to give it back, but Derek says that he never wears it anyway so it’d be going to waste. Stiles grumbles, but can’t argue that something that costs 800 fucking dollars shouldn’t sit in a closet for the rest of its life.

((Derek does not have multiple coats. He doesn’t even need one coat, really, because werewolves run hot. He bought it the day he saw Stiles wearing his, with frayed edges and holes under the arms and a zipper that doesn’t work. It’s not cold in California but what if it was. He’d be a failure of a mate if he let Stiles walk around still freezing.))

———

Stiles mentions offhandedly that he hasn’t been Skyping Scott as much since the audio on his laptop recently broke. Derek doesn’t even say anything, there’s just a brand spanking new laptop on his desk a few days later. And the motherfucker acts confused when Stiles demands he take it back because his dad would have a fucking cow if he knew he was gifted something as fucking expensive at this.

((Derek doesn’t take it back. He keeps it in his apartment as “his” and says Stiles can use it whenever he comes to Derek’s place. Stiles dismisses it at first, but sometimes he forgets his laptop. And then he slowly starts using it for book reports and homework and supernatural research, because it’s actually really nice, and wow the CPU and GPU really does make a difference when he plays WoW, and can he just borrow it for the weekend? Stiles will give it back, he swears. Derek smiles and says sure. Stiles keeps borrowing it for longer and longer, returning it later and later, until he finally forgets about it completely and it makes a permanent home on Stiles’ desk.))

———

Stiles learns quickly that mall dates aren’t going to be a regular thing. When he asked Derek to go to the mall with him, he pictured the two of them walking around holding hands, going to the arcade, maybe trying on some ridiculous clothes for some laughs, and then finishing the day with some greasy burgers in the food court.

He didn’t anticipate for Derek to ask if Stiles wants to go into a store every single time he spends more than two seconds looking at a window, or offering to buy anything that Stiles so much as touches.

Even worse that Derek learns not to be too eager. Instead of jumping down his throat, he learns to watch silently as Stiles browses, and if something catches Stiles’ eye, Derek will shrug and suggest that Stiles should try it on. Stiles doesn’t even realize that Derek swiped the tag before he could see it.

Not until he finds he really, really likes the pair of jeans after wearing them, and when he goes up to the counter to ask the price, Derek is already smoothly sliding over, handing the cashier the tag “that fell off”, and then swiping his card before Stiles can even get a word in.

((Stiles chews him out for that too, but every time he tells himself he’s going to go back with the receipt and return it… he doesn’t. The jeans are really nice and Stiles hasn’t had new jeans in a long time. The Stilinski’s don’t buy a new pair until the previous ones are worn to holes. That’s just how they’ve always done it. His dad doesn’t make enough to afford otherwise. Stiles tells himself that his old jeans were getting close to that point, so really it’s only a matter of time… Meanwhile Derek is biting back a smug smile the entire walk back to the Camaro, because he knows it’ll set Stiles off if he sees the smirk)).

———

Derek is really odd about what he does or doesn’t choose to spend on himself, but when it comes to Stiles, the answer is always.

Stiles thinks Derek is the worst rich person ever, but he thinks it in a room littered with things that he never would have been able to enjoy otherwise, on a bed that’s the most comfortable he’s ever slept on.

[sladucer]

"I will still be here

As long as you hold me

In your memory.

Just remember me... "

[queer-stilinski]

[i’ve thought of this so many times - as im sure many others have as well but..]

Derek takes his bed very seriously — it’s probably the only thing he’s ever splurged on or will ever splurge on. he took his time finding the perfect mattress, only buys nice, soft, threaded sheets. is it ridiculous for bedsheets to cost more than $100? yes, but he wants the best. he likes to roll around in them so every inch of fabric smells of himself, so it smells safe and familiar.

he hates when anyone comes over and tries to sit on it. a few would try and Derek would either glare at them to get up or he’d just later rip the sheets off and wash them under hot water and unscented detergents. starting the process all over again of rolling in them until it smelled like him again. he doesn’t ever want to roll over in bed and get a whiff of Isaac’s ass on his blanket or Lydia’s perfume near his pillows.

somehow the exception ends up being Stiles. Derek truly doesn’t know when, how, or why Stiles got a pass. Derek sat at the edge of his bed one night, catching scent of Stiles on the blanket. he leant over and inhaled the scent, eyes shutting, taking in that mix akin to rainwater, honey, bergamot, and cheap detergent. “oh no,” Derek would whisper to himself.

Derek ignored the looks from the pack when Stiles would casually walk to Derek’s bed, mid-ramble with hands flying, sitting at the edge and legs criss-crossed. maybe it happens so many times Scott finally asks, “how come he gets to sit on your bed?” “cause he’s in love with him,” Erica would mumble low enough for only the wolves to hear. Derek would kick them all out, then and there, Stiles giving Derek a confused look on the way out.

he’d later that night roll around in Stiles’ scent, loving how well their aroma melds together.

when Derek finally gets his head out of his ass and tells Stiles how he really feels, he rolls around with Stiles in his bed.. naked. letting every bit of Stiles rub off onto his sheets. in the morning, he’d beg Stiles not to leave his bed, bringing whatever Stiles needed to him. if Stiles did leave the bed, Derek would drag him back into it, kissing, nipping, and scenting him until that safe and familiar feeling returned.

[ambear9]

"Wait your dad's name isn't John?" Derek looked at him confused

"Noah"

Derek made a face "Why did you say no like that?"

"What" Stiles finally gave Derek all his attention

"Why did you say no ahhh"

Stiles was laughing so hard he was doubled over with tears in his eyes Once he could breath again he looked up at a very scowling Derek1 "Holy shit dude that was the funniest shit I’ve ever heard" "You'd think by now I'd be used to your weirdness and understand what is going on" "My dad's name is Noah" he spelled it out "But when I was a kid I didn’t know that so when someone asked me I said John because it was the first thing that came to mind" "But you still call him that" "Yeah because my mom thought it was hilarious and also started calling him John so it kinda became a thing. We would both call him John and he would act all pissed off about it then we would all laugh”

[mad-madam-m]

32. Getting Caught in the Act

32. Getting Caught in the Act            

Derek was going to die. He had always thought it would be while he was protecting this town, or at the hands of hunters, but no.

No, it was going to be because he couldn’t tell Stiles “wait until we get back to the loft.”

“Dad!” Stiles said brightly, too brightly, like it might somehow distract from the fact that his shirt was rucked up to his armpits and he was straddling Derek in the driver’s seat of the Camaro.

“Stiles.” The flashlight shining through the window flicked from Stiles to Derek. “Derek.”

Derek wondered if he could recline his seat far enough to disappear entirely out of the car. “Sheriff.”

“Oh, considering the position you’re in, I think you should just call me ‘John,’” the sheriff said.

If the sheriff didn’t shoot him, Derek was going to die of mortification.

The flashlight flicked back to Stiles. “So, I thought you two were on surveillance tonight.”

“We were!” Stiles said. “We were definitely surveilling, keeping an eye on things–”

“In the woods, or in Derek’s pants?”

Yeah. Derek was going to die of mortification.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Stiles said shrilly.

Derek rolled his eyes. It was exactly what it looked like, and from the sheriff’s exasperated sigh, he didn’t buy it, either.

“I’m going to tell you this once,” Sheriff Stilinski said. “Get dressed and go somewhere private to finish this off. The next time I or any of my deputies catch you two out here like this, I’ll have you both arrested for public indecency.”

“Dad!” Stiles exclaimed.

Derek clapped a hand over Stiles’s mouth so he wouldn’t argue. They weren’t getting arrested and he wasn’t getting shot. He didn’t want to push their luck. “Yes, sir. We understand.”

Stiles made an outraged noise and glared at him. Derek pretended he didn’t hear.

The flashlight finally dropped away, and the sheriff patted the roof of the car. “That’s what I like to hear. Oh, and one more thing. You’re both going to help with the cooking at the department barbecue next Saturday.”

“But Dad!” Stiles shouted, muffled, from behind Derek’s hand.

The flashlight was back. “Public. Indecency.”

“The preserve isn’t public,” Stiles muttered.

Derek scowled, and tried to convey shut up before your dad changes his mind and arrests us both with his eyebrows.

“Given that we patrol out here regularly, it’s public enough.” The flashlight dropped away again. “I’m sending Parrish out here in fifteen minutes. You two had better be gone by then.”

That time, the sheriff did walk away, and after a few seconds, Derek heard the sound of an engine turning over and a patrol car driving off.

He closed his eyes and breathed a bone-deep sigh of relief. That had gone…a lot better than he’d expected, honestly.

He let his hand fall and patted Stiles’s side. “Off.”

Stiles pouted. “But we have fifteen minutes!”

Derek glared. “I am not getting arrested by your father for your exhibitionist kink. Off.”

Stiles grumbled, but he crawled off and back over into the passenger’s seat. “It’s not an exhibitionist kink. I don’t like other people watching.”

Derek put his seat back up. “You just like the potential of getting caught?”

“Well, yeah. Makes it fun!”

Derek rolled his eyes–he did that fairly often around Stiles–and put the car into gear. “Keep it in your pants until we get back to the loft.”

They’d driven in silence for about five minutes when Stiles said, innocently, “So, Derek.”

“What?”

“You said you didn’t want to get arrested by my dad…does that imply that, maybe, you would be up for having sex somewhere that we wouldn’t get arrested by my dad?” 

“I am,” Derek said.

Stiles perked up. “Yeah? Where?”

“My loft.”

Stiles crossed his arms and scowled. “You have no sense of adventure.”

“I have plenty of sense of adventure. I’m dating you, aren’t I?”

Stiles continued to scowl, but this time it was directed out the window. “I just…I wanted to spice things up. I’m afraid our sex life is going to get boring and you’re going to want to leave me.”

If Derek didn’t have to look at the road, he’d have gaped at Stiles. “What?”

“I said, I’m afraid–”

“No, I heard that.” Derek shook his head. “Stiles. I love you. I love us. We could have the most boring vanilla sex for the rest of our lives and I would be happy. We could have no sex for the rest of our lives and I would be happy. I just want to be with you.” 

Stiles brightened. “Really?”

Derek nodded. “Really.”

Stiles went back to looking out the window, but his scent was warm and sparkly with pleasure.

Derek sighed. He loved Stiles so much it terrified him, sometimes. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

They were almost back to town when Derek said, “You know, if you really want to spice up our sex life, I can blow you in the parking garage when we get back.”

Stiles whipped around to him. “What, seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

Stiles threw his hands up and cheered.

(send me an affectionate prompt)

[killerblueeyesxprettybluedude]

pilot-accurate s1 in which derek is 19 and the fire really was “like ten years ago.” in this one, derek’s backstory with kate happened to his uncle, and it’s complicated. she’s the one who saved peter from fully burning alive.

in which stiles has never stopped thinking about derek hale doubling over in the hallway outside of class like he was gonna be sick. about how hard he was breathing in the station that night, how tight his sister was holding him. she’d seemed so much older to stiles then, but now that he does the math, she had to have been what, fifteen? fourteen? so yeah, no kidding she couldn’t be a legal guardian. 

there were a few foster homes. things never seemed to work out. and like two years after the fire, both the hales fell off the face of the earth.

so when derek hale finally shows back up in beacon hills at nineteen?

stiles can barely even believe he’s alive. 

[unholyfudgebiscuits]

Preschool teacher Stiles calling Derek on the phone, worry evident in his voice when Derek picks up. "Mr. Hale, This is Stiles Stilinksi at SunnyDay Preschool... About your son Eli–"

"Is he okay?"

"I... think? I just... Would you please come over here? Now." Derek is already halfway into the Camaro.

"Is he hurt?!" He demands, speeding out of the parking lot.

"Hurt... No. I just... I'm asking for your trust in coming straight to the back of the school. I think it would... be better not to let the front know and better to not upset the other children." Derek's heartbeat is pounding against his chest as he brakes every speeding law there is to get the school in under 8 minutes.

Stiles is still on the phone and Derek can hear Eli sobbing in the background. He sails out of the car and rushes to the back door where a very flustered and exhausted looking man with moles and big doe eyes is holding his half shifted and wailing 3 year old.

Stiles? The teacher, gives him a long hard look and Derek feels his stomach plummet as he realizes Eli just shifted for the first time in his life. He runs towards them, taking his son from the human's arms.

"So... I can't say I've been a teacher for very long but I have seen my fair share of unique characteristics and I must confess... Glowing yellow eyes and reconstructed facial features is a new one." Stiles says in forced calmness.

"How did... I... Did anyone else-"

"No one else saw. One of the other boys pushed him to the ground and he just laid there crying. I went to help him up and saw he was... like this and I brought him out here immediately. Luckily he's memorized your phone number because I used my personal cell to call you."

"I-I'm so-"

"Werewolf. Right? Please, for the love of god tell me that's what's happening right now. Please tell me I'm not going insane. I-It runs in my family actually... You know. M-My mother. Th-This is real right?" Derek can only nod, anxiety and fear wrapping around him. All he can think of is the hunters. Of Kate coming for his son. If Stiles decides to tell anyone-

"Thank god. I thought maybe when I accidentally dropped him earlier-"

"You dropped him!?" Derek snarls. Stiles eyes narrow, his finger coming up to stab Derek in the shoulder.

"Hey! You're the one who sent a baby werewolf to Pre-K without informing any staff, buddy. Let's not play this off as me being the irresponsible one today!"

"Dadda, don be mean to 'Tiles." Eli hiccups, pudgy arms reaching back out to his teacher and Stiles pulls him back to his chest not even hesitating in the face of small, glinting fangs and sharpened claws.

"Yeah! Be nice to the very breakable human. Do you even know what was going through my head when I saw a half wolf baby lying on the ground in my group of 3-5 year olds? I'm 23 dude. I just got an ulcer from this."

"Don't call me dude." Derek hisses. But there's no bite to it as he watches Stiles bounce Eli on his hip. Making soothing and shushing noises that work to calm him as the shift slowly starts to fall away. "He's never... I didn't know he could..." He tries, a little hurt that Eli was not clinging to him the way he was now burying his face into Stiles neck.

"Ah." Stiles says, his voice softening as he seems to understand. "He just got the superpowers then. Wasn't always wolfie inclined?" Derek doesn't know what to say except that this human was taking the introduction into the supernatural a hell of a lot better than he could have hoped. "It's got to be painful, right? I've seen Eli fall before, he's a tough little guy. He wasn't crying because he got pushed..."

"It... It gets easier but yes. It hurts." Stiles nods solemnly as he gently rubs soothing circles down the toddlers back.

"So... Now that I know I don't need to call the CDC... What now?"

"Now?" Derek asks, guard back up.

"He can't go back to class today. You just said it hurt. I think he needs to go home and rest."

"NO!" Eli sobs, claws digging into Stile's white button-up hard enough to draw blood. "Want 'Tiles!" Eli cries, clinging to the human with unnatural strength. Derek rushes forward to pull him away but Stiles lifts his hand up to stop him, wincing but not even trying to dislodge the tiny fists from his shoulder.

"Hey... Eli, buddy. It's okay. You're not in trouble. I'm just worried because you were in pain."

"Want 'Tiles!" Eli chokes back. "Don't hurt wit 'Tiles." Derek's chest tightens when Stiles turns to look back at him questioningly.

"I..." Derek starts, not even really able to believe the words himself. "I think you're his anchor."

"His what now?"

[kitchenisking]

❤️

[janegrey25-deactivated20260317]

PT II Accidental Fake Dating (for context, it's summer. Stiles is 17, Derek's 19.) (Pt I here) After his shower Stiles feels better, but hates there's still a twinge of hurt from the fight he had with Derek earlier. To think he really thought he'd started to be seen as something other than the weak human in the group... he was stupid to ever believe that. As Stiles is in his room, ruffling through his drawers to find clothes there's a knock at the door. "I'll be out in a minute dad, just getting dressed," he says as he pulls out some boxers and an oversized, long sleeved, beige shirt. Oh shit... this is Derek's shirt. Blood free! He wonders if Derek will ever ask for this back... though, Stiles never did get his grey one back so, he guesses they're even. "Put a hustle on it. Dinner's about done," His father says from the other side. "And.. there's something I need to talk to you about." Before Stiles can ask what about, he hears him walking away and his dad's footsteps retreating down the stairs. Confused at the tone of his dad's voice, Stiles hurries to get dressed throwing on Derek's shirt (his now) and grey plaid pajama pants. He wonders what could have happened in the fifteen minutes that it took for him to shower for his dad to go from happy to be back to... sounding somewhat serious. It'd been a surprise for Stiles coming home after the pack meeting to find his dad already back. Apparently the out-of-town trip ended earlier than his dad thought it would and was happy to be home, making a late frozen pizza dinner with his son. Stiles thinks about the cheerful mood his dad had been in before Stiles went upstairs. What could have possibly happened in that time span? Stiles reaches the last step and turns into the living room and sees--

"Derek?" Oh that's what happened. Stiles' eyes go wide seeing Derek Hale sitting at the kitchen table with a strained smile as his father stands next to Derek, in an intimidating pose. "Ah, you know Derek Hale," his dad says with his arms crossed. "Yes?" Stiles admits, because what else is he meant to say? "You've never mentioned this to me." Well, this is bad. Worse than Stiles ever could have thought possible. Why the hell was Derek even here? Wasn't he meant to be at his home?

"Haven't I?" Stiles says, aiming for nonchalance although he knows his dad is seeing right through it. "No I have. Like I've definitely said it before. Your memory ain't what it used to be, huh? His father challenges him, "Really? You've mentioned knowing Derek before?"

Stiles nods, "Yeah. Like, yeah. You know 'hey dad, me and Scott are going to the game. Derek's gonna be there.' 'Derek was at... the shop' 'woah, saw Derek at the movies with Scotty' No, yeah, I've mentioned it before." "Really? Hmm, must have missed you two becoming friends. Like how I'm missing why Mr. Hale would be here so late at night, walking in like he's familiar with our home because to my knowledge, Derek's never been here before. Or has he?" Stiles thinks about what he could possibly say. Remember when you tried to arrest him for nearly murdering us in the school, well, I was sort of harboring him when he was a fugitive. So no dad, this isn't the first time he's been here. Instead he lands on, "Scott's been over too." His father isn't amused. "I'm not asking about Scott. I'm asking you if tonight is the first time Derek's been inside of this house." "He's come over a few times." "Has he? Why?" "To watch... the game?" "Which game?" "The--" Stiles starts not knowing what he's going to say, "--basketball game. Really entertaining stuff." "You hate basketball." Right. Stiles does hate basketball. He somehow forgot about that... "Well, widen my horizons and all that. Get more cultured. Might find I like basketball more than lacrosse one day, who knows?" "Okay well, he's not over here to watch basketball tonight because it's the wrong season. So tell me exactly why he's here tonight."

"That is an excellent question. He's here because I-- lent him a book. Yeah, a book and ugh-- Derek!" Stiles says, clapping his hands and hoping to God he can end this horrible situation. "Looks like you forgot it, so you really should just head home and try again tomorrow." Nobody moves. Of course, Stiles knew it would have been too easy had that worked. Stiles looks at Derek, who hasn't said a word throughout but does look as uncomfortable as Stiles is. So at least he's not alone in that.

"It's funny, Derek told me it was a matter of money."

"Right... right," Stiles says, feeling stupid because he should have realized Derek tried to make up his own lie. "I owe you what-- ten bucks?" "He said he owed you money." Stiles again nods, because frankly, he doesn't know what else to do. God, this is awful.

"Well, now I'm just confused as to who owes what. So Derek, you're officially off the hook for paying me back. Ever. See, everything is clear and now there's really now reason for Derek to be here so he should just head home--" "Stiles?" "Yeah pops?" "Sit. Now," his dad tells him and there's no room for arguing. His father sits at the head of the table, pulling the chair out directly across from Derek and pointing for Stiles to sit. Stiles does and avoids looking at Derek. If Derek didn't hate him before tonight, he definitely will now. "Look," his dad starts, rubbing a hand down his face which Stiles knows as a sign that his dad is exhausted, "if I don't get a straight answer from you about why Mr. Hale is here, when he thought I was out of town, then you my dear son-- are grounded. For two months. Meaning your car keys are mine for two months. So tell me the truth, now." Stiles tries to think of what to say. He's coming up with blanks on what to tell his dad. His hands are fidgeting where they lay on the table in front of him, thinking what to say. He can't really tell his dad that it's because werewolves actually exist. Stiles is weighing through the pros and cons of staying silent or trying to come up with a lie his father will never believe when Derek's voice interrupts his thoughts. In a much kinder voice than Stiles has ever heard before, Derek says, "Let's just tell him the truth Stiles."

And then Derek is taking Stiles' hand into his own, holding it across the table. Stiles briefly wonders if he's starting hallucinating because-- Derek Hale is holding Stiles' hand.

He looks at Derek like he's crazy and it takes until Derek starts squeezing his hand really hard-- okay ouch that's hurting, ow-- for him to catch onto what Derek is trying to get Stiles to say. Because what else is his dad going to believe at this point as to why anyone would be showing up to the house so late? Or why Stiles would never mention befriending someone? "We're dating," Stiles eventually says and immediately Derek's grip eases. Huh, now the pain in Stiles hand is receding as well. Weird. "You're dating?" His father asks and Stiles looks at him. His dad looks... conflicted. Stiles knows his dad knows Stiles could lie, but-- what would Derek have to gain from lying about dating the Sheriff's son?

"Yes, we are." Stiles is nervous, so nervous that he sees the moment his dad's eyes go from hesitation, to anger because-- oh yeah, he believes it now. "Stiles-- why the hell am I finding out about this now?" Shit. Before Stiles can respond, Derek speaks up. "If I may speak... it was because I didn't want you to know." Stiles looks at Derek. He cannot believe Derek is taking the fall for this. Even though it's fake, he can't believe Derek's willing to take the brunt of it. "It's my fault. I didn't want to cause trouble since I know I've had some run ins with the law given everything with my sister's murder. Despite being exonerated, I didn't want to cause friction between you and your son. I thought if we introduced the idea slowly, maybe it would be better. I was wrong and I'm sorry and I'm sorry you're finding out this way." Stiles is a bit gob smacked at how well thought out the lie is. It sounded so real. Derek should be an actor, Stiles thinks.

His father takes a deep breath. "I can understand the hesitation. What I can't understand is you coming over to my home when you thought I was gone." Stiles is immediately embarrassed by the implication. And realizes he's still holding Derek's hand. And that Derek's thumb has been making soothing motions on the top of his hand. He tries to focus on the first thing.

"Dad! We weren't--" "Mr-- Sheriff Stilinski, I promise you I wouldn't have ever disrespected you or your home or... or your son like that. I only came over to apologize to Stiles after a fight we had earlier." Oh, he hadn't thought about why Derek actually was here. "We got into a fight earlier. I couldn't sleep and I came over to apologize because I didn't like that Stiles left upset. I swear I was never intending to stay longer than that and-- can I please have a moment alone with Stiles to apologize?" Stiles can't believe how sincere Derek sounds. Was he really so upset over their fight? "Sure", his dad says. "Stiles, if he's not down in ten minutes, I'm throwing you in a holding cell over the weekend" "Yes sir." -- Once safely in his bedroom, Stiles turns around to Derek. "I cannot believe my dad thinks we're dating now." "It's all he was thinking before you even came downstairs. He wasn't going to believe anything else. No matter what lie you would have come up with, he would have assumed it was a lie to cover up us being together." "This is bad." "Tell me abut it-- your dad probably hates me now." "That's what you're concerned about?" "He thinks I came over here to sleep with you!" "What-- no, he totally bought the apology thing. If he didn't, he would've threatened you with a gun or throwing you in jail, not me." And yeah, the apology thing... "Did you really come over here to say sorry?" Stiles asks, a bit unsure. Derek looks at him and nods, "Yes. I... I was too angry before and I went over the line. I'm sorry and I didn't mean it, alright?" Stiles nods, accepting the apology. "And I'm sorry that I just got us into... this." "Hey, it could have been worse." "How could it have possibly been worse?" "You could have been shirtless if you ran over here, which would have looked much worse." Derek actually laughs at that, "I didn't even think of that." "See! Could have been worse." Then Derek's brow furrows, "Actually, speaking of shirts-- are you wearing mine?"

---

Sorry this is so long and a lot of dialogue! Hope y'all enjoy anyways: @sterekshipperforever @juliatwolf-sterekforever @blairkaramell @lemonhoarddragoness @queenofosm

[shieldofiron]

Get his ass, Stiles.

[arlos-warm-drpepper]

I want you to listen from the kitchen to me confessing on the couch - Santa Monica, The Front Bottoms

Derek had assumed he was just bored, that’s why he had been showing up at Derek’s apartment every night for the past two weeks. That, or he was trying to test just how far he could go before Derek snapped. His presence alone wasn’t all that irritating, not like it was when they first met, it was just the jittery, nervous energy radiating off the man that had Derek on edge. To any normal, non-supernatural person, the difference would be unnoticeable. Stiles is always restless, talkative, and twitchy. Derek can tell, though, that this time is different.

His heartbeat is erratic, like he keeps thinking of something scary at random moments throughout the day. It almost gives Derek a heart attack every time, but Stiles rarely reacts. Besides the occasional stutter in his words, or the halt of them all together, Stiles acts just the same. Derek decides that there’s something wrong, something Stiles is too afraid to tell him. He also draws the conclusion that that’s why Stiles keeps returning, because he needs to tell Derek something. Something important, if the way Stiles is behaving is anything to go by.

Important, but clearly not very urgent, because Stiles babbles on about something or other from his living room. Maybe Stiles is driving him batshit crazy, but Derek actually starts to like the chatter. A lot of the Hales were chattery, Cora and himself being the outliers, and Stiles reminds him of those days. He tells Stiles this unintentionally, the words falling from his lips before he gets the chance to reel them back in. He blames the mind-numbing-ness of listening to Stiles talk for weeks straight, because that’s easier than coming to terms with the fact that he feels comfortable enough to open himself up to the man. Stiles grins at him like he’s won the lottery, and he tells him that he likes that Derek can hear him from wherever.

So Derek pours them both some orange juice from the kitchen, assuming Stiles has talked his mouth dry. Of course he prefers orange juice over apple juice, Stiles says, and Derek snorts. Derek doesn’t really, he’d take sweet over bitter any day of the week, but he doesn’t correct Stiles. He doesn’t like interrupting him, he’s afraid of all the words he’d miss. And maybe Stiles would be on the cusp of telling Derek what he so desperately wants to tell Derek, and he’d interrupt, and then he’d never know what’s bothering Stiles. So he just listens as he shoves the carton of juice back into his fridge.

“Hey, Derek?” Stiles asks abruptly, his heart hammering noisily in his chest.

Derek stops in his tracks, his feet cemented to the floor in front of his fridge.

“Yes, Stiles?” Derek says, and it only sort of resembles a question.

“Could you just, maybe, stay in there? Just for a second. I just— I need to—“

Derek nods quickly as if Stiles can see him before realizing the ridiculousness of it.

“Yes. I can do that,” he clears his throat, “whatever you need.”

A little too sincere, he thinks. He hears Stiles sigh, but it doesn’t sound like one of annoyance. They stay like that for a good while, Derek frozen in place in his kitchen, Stiles sprawled out on his couch. Derek finds his own heartbeat matching Stiles in speed, and he unintentionally holds his breath. He feels like he’s right on the edge of a cliff, seconds away from tipping over. He doesn’t want this to come to an end, he doesn’t want to know whatever it is Stiles wants to tell him if it means Stiles stops wasting all his free time on Derek’s couch.

It’s selfish, but he can’t help it. After years of having little to no company, he got so used to finally not being alone. He can’t even imagine just how grating the silence will be when Stiles leaves. He has the sudden urge to talk on and on about everything he can think of, just so Stiles doesn’t get the chance to admit what he came to admit. It’s uncharacteristic, Derek doesn’t like talking, but he thinks he’d do anything if it meant getting to keep this, to keep Stiles.

“Just listen, okay? Just listen. Even if—“ he hears Stiles swallow, “even if you really, really hate me.”

Derek wants to tell him that he doesn’t, that he never could.

“I just need you to know. I just need to say it. God, this is going to sound so stupid. You probably already know, anyways. You can tell, can’t you?”

Derek shakes his head no.

“It’s just— I’m not attracted to you. No, that’s not what I meant at all.”

It’s Derek’s turn to swallow, feeling a little like someone just hallowed him out and clumsily shoved everything back into place again.

“I am attracted to you! Obviously, is that obvious? I think that’s obvious. But, that’s also not what I meant to say. It’s just, I’m not only attracted to you. Okay? Do you get it?”

Derek really wishes he did. He desperately tries to search through the words until he’s practically drowning in them. Stiles is not attracted to him, ouch. Stiles is obviously attracted to him, and apparently that’s obvious. Stiles is not only attracted to him, but maybe other people too. Derek thinks that that part really is obvious, even though it makes him want to throw up.

“Derek? Do you get it?” A pause, “I’m in love with you.”

He says it quickly, like ripping off a bandaid.

“Wow, that actually feels a lot better. Thanks, man. Don’t hate me?” Stiles says, the perfect picture of casualness, but his heartbeat says the opposite.

Relief floods through Derek like it’s trying to replace his blood, and he leans his head against the fridge. There’s a twinge of disbelief mixed into the cocktail of feels he experiences all at once. A part of him feels like every terrible card the universe had handed to him was in preparation to give him this, all he could ever want. Of course he couldn’t have anything good up until this, it would be too much. This, them, Stiles, it’s all perfect.

“Derek, buddy, I’m going to need you to talk now. I know it’s not really a part of our deal, but I need you to say something. Anything, please.” Stiles says, nothing but panic.

“Can I leave the kitchen?”

“Yes.”

When Derek reaches the living room, Stiles is no longer one with the couch. He’s up, looking like he’s both ready to flee and to collapse right on the floor. Derek thinks it’s a little ridiculous that Stiles thinks there was ever a chance he’d shoot him down. It’s like second nature to take his head into his hands and slot their lips together. He grins into the kiss when Stiles mumbles a quiet, “oh, thank god.” against his mouth.

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Imagine one time while Stiles was panic rambling, the kind where he’s so working up he’s forgotten how to breath. Derek kisses him.

Stiles is taken aback and asks him why he kissed him. Derek, looking away so stiles can’t see how he’s blushing slightly, tries to play it off by saying he was trying to shut Stiles up.

Days later, Stiles spends hours talking about anything and everything, rambling non stop until Derek finally breaks and asks him “Why are you telling me all this?” And Stiles replies, “I’m waiting for you to shut me up.”