Sterek Quotes

Quotes from some of the >thousand Sterek fics I've read.

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Stiles is looking at him again with those wide, dark eyes, smiling like he knows some secret about Derek.

Derek has a lot of secrets. None of them would make Stiles smile like that.

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He catches sight of himself in the mirror on the back of Stiles’s closet door and he’s surprised to find his smile looks real.

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The first thing Stiles does is roll his functioning eye at him, because he’s probably already blaming himself for this too.

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An image of Derek soaking wet and paralyzed flashes through his mind. It feels like a lifetime ago.

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It’s summer and he’s got no plans, aside from avoiding Laura who’s hoping to impress her boyfriend by treating him like shit.

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“You can,” Derek said, watching Stiles’ eyes. “You can have whatever you want.” “Don’t say that,” Stiles said, reaching to a bedside drawer. “I’ll take everything.”

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In some of Stiles’s more sleep-deprived delusions he imagines Derek taking a claw to his throat. Like, whoops, Derek accidentally nicked an artery, oh well, Stiles was totally useless, anyhow.

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“Fuck this,” Stiles declares, and walks outside.

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His face was so dear; filled out but not completely grown up, not yet; his eyes forever and always sparkling with adventure and just a tad of wickedness.

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“You forgot to buckle me in.”

“I’m not your mother,” he snaps. He still fastens the seat belt, though; he can’t have Stiles splattered all over the windshield after nearly getting himself killed.

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He imagines digging a hole, and finding Laura alive, and having to tell her that he was so worried that he dug a hole. He imagines her laughing at him.

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In English class, Stiles is on edge. He’s jittering his leg up and down, glancing around himself like a squirrel on the hunt for a nut, feeling exposed as though there’s a neon sign that says HOOKED UP WITH DEREK HALE hovering above his head.

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You thought it was beautiful and tragic and wanted it so badly you ached,

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The only reason a hot guy like Derek would be picking up a scrawny underage hooker was because he wanted to do to Stiles the sorts of things you couldn’t ask a girlfriend or a boyfriend for, or even a stranger in a bar. Nasty-bad wrong things.

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Sometimes Stiles forgets that the real world is out there, that the shit he sees on TV isn’t just on TV. He sees shit in his dad’s cases, in the files he brings home that Stiles can’t resist looking at, but it’s not the same as seeing a kid the same age as him selling himself on the street.

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“It was everything I wanted my first time to be, except, you know, the end.”

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“You’re attracted to me?”

“Well!” Stiles shoots back defensively, like it’s Derek’s fault for being good-looking.