My Sterek Ficrec

Hi, I´m Vici and this is a small place where I keep track of the Sterek fanfics that I read. Icon by geeky-sova  

[benaya-trash]

STEREK WEEK 17′

Day 2 :Scene Stealer

“Stilinski,” Professor Hale sighed“Why. is your muggle cape gurgling?”

“Why professor Hale, might you be speaking of this,” Stiles pointed at his torso where a gray hoodie covered him “amazing, beautiful, surprisingly comfortable if you give it a ch-”

“No chance” Hale rolled his eyes and kept walking forward deeper into the dark forest.

“Your loss, and its a hoodie” Stiles ran forward to keep up with the grouchy teacher as he made his way through the dark branches and damp floor as if it was his garden.

“its gurgling” Hale bit in annoyance.

“i got a Niffler in it”

“A WHAT?!”

[kodzukens]

Favorite TW Fics » Stiles/Derek Edition 

                Permanent Fixture by linksofmemories (+ The Rory to My Amy Series)

“I entered the fourth grade and I saw Scott and he was the new kid and I knew it was my chance. This was my chance to actually have somebody. Lydia was still beautiful for the first two days of school and then I went over to Scott’s on the second day of school and I met you.

You were this almost 16 year-old and my only friend’s older brother and you made the worst hamburger macaroni in the world. And if you had asked me who Lydia Martin was the moment I saw you I would have had no fucking clue. Because that’s how hard I fell, Derek. That’s how fast I loved you.”

[virtualcarrot]

Be my ragweed

(sadly not beta read :) )

“I don’t care Stiles.” Derek shouted, cutting across the muddy path in the hopes of dissuading Stiles from following him.

The teen absently lengthened his strides, somehow managing to draw breath to voice his grievance.

“I don’t care that you don’t care. I want to complain and no one else is available.”

“And who says I am?”

“Your empty hands.” Stiles retorted, gesturing towards his companion before hastily drawing his arms back when he slipped in the mud. The close fall did not deter him: “Speaking of which, my locker was empty this morning. And at lunch. And in the afternoon. Nothing. From anyone. I don’t feel the love.”

Derek sneered.

“Probably because there isn’t any for you to feel.”

From the furrowing of Stiles’ brows, the kid seemed unsure whether to take his comment as a joke or as an insult. Torn between amusement and hurt, he settled for a glare.

“Careful Derek, your bitterness is showing.”

“And yours isn’t?”

Stiles shrugged.

“Look, it’s not as if I was hoping for a sudden declaration of undying love-” He started in the tone of one who had been very much expecting it, thanks, because Stiles was ridiculously romantic for all that he was also cynical. “It’s just- Look, we’ve been through stuff. All of us. Together. We’re friends. Buddies, compadres, marauders. ‘Pack’, whatever.” He added at Derek’s pointed look. “My point is, I didn’t even get a bro’ valentine, and it sucks, and if I want to complain about it, I have every right.”

“Yes, but not to me!”  Derek hissed. “Go bemoan your fate away. Hopefully in your room. Locked in. Talk at your wall for all I care.”

“The wall can’t hear me.”

“Because you think I’m listening?!  You can’t be dumb enough as to expect commiseration.”

Stiles rolled his eyes at him.

“Of course not. I’d have gone to Scott otherwise. But Scott would have felt guilty, and that sucks.”

Derek stopped walking and crossed his arms, leveling a stern look at him.

“So you’re trying to make me feel guilty instead?”

The kid stared back with an expression of exasperation so far from fond it was a little insulting.

“The whole point of talking to you is that you won’t.” Stiles explained with an impatient sigh, looking skywards as if to look for strength.

“I… won’t?” Derek asked, puzzled.

“Well, no?” Stiles replied, unsure himself all of a sudden. He scratched his forehead. “Because you, er, ‘don’t care’?” At the way Derek’s face darkened, he carried on hastily. “But that’s the whole point, I’m telling you, I don’t mind actually, because that way you’re not wary of hurting my feelings or anything. You’ll just… be a douche. As usual.”

Derek tightened his crossed arms.

“Because I ‘don’t care’.” He uttered through gritted teeth.

“Yes?” Stiles replied in the alarmed voice of someone who did not assess the situation correctly and who can feel it getting out of control for no fathomable reason.

“And your feelings are hurt.” Derek stated coolly.

Stiles started waving his arms around, his face mouthing unfinished questions he found himself unable to formulate.

“I- just- what?!”

Derek watched him flail for a few awkward seconds before sighing. And walking away.

Too stunned to follow him, Stiles raised his palms and schooled his features into a questioning expression aimed at no one in particular, looking around as if expecting someone, anyone, to jump out of the underbrush and explain.

He startled when he straightened up and found himself face to face with Derek. Who held out a- a plant? – a plant indeed, freshly torn out of the ground, its roots swaying in the breeze. Stiles stared.

“What is that?” He asked at last, leaning over Derek’s closed fist to get a better look at his newfound possession.

Nonplussed by the question, Derek looked down at the plant too.

“I think it’s ragweed.” He said with a look of concentration. Then he shrugged and held out his hand again. “Here.”

“Dude, what am I supposed to do with it?”

“Stiles.” Derek snapped, losing patience.

Stiles complied hurriedly, carefully turning the plant whichever way to inspect it. Derek nodded, satisfied.

“There. Now stop complaining.”

The kid froze. Blinked.

“Stop comp- Oh my God.”

Derek looked horrified, sensing an incoming monologue. He raised a finger menacingly.

“Don’t-.”

Stiles pushed his hand away with a smirk that tried and failed not to become too genuine.

“Oh my God you gave me a valentine flower.” He cackled.

“It’s a ragweed.” Derek sneered.

“It’s a gift.”

“It’s a bad weed. Annoying. Grows everywhere like couch grass. You can’t get rid of it no matter how much you try and however much you avoid it you’ll still find it lying around. Even then it still shows up where you least expect it. I thought it was fitting.”

Stiles bit his lips in amusement.

“Yes. Of our love.” He blurted out before howling in a laughter that wasn’t far from manic.

“I bring these things on myself…” Derek groaned, half-heartedly shoving at Stiles’ head as he walked past him.

The kid ducked, his shoulders shaking, watched his back growing more distant with each step.

“What, no goodbye kiss?”

Derek rolled his eyes to himself and bit his lips to keep from smiling.

“Go home Stiles.” He yelled.

“Whatever man, I know you love me.” Called back before turning away, cradling the ragweed gingerly on his way to the jeep.

[bilesandthesourwolf-deactivated]

It’s Derek’s birthday. No one was supposed to know, because he hates celebrating his birthday. He hasn’t had a proper birthday since his family died. Derek goes the whole day feeling slightly down. He didn’t tell anyone about this day, so he knows it’s his own fault that he’s alone. But Stiles, being Stiles, found out.

The human shows up at Derek’s that night, with a huge present that won’t even fit through the door. Derek is trying, really trying to be annoyed because Stiles always shows up unexpectedly and without invitation. But there he is, this silly teenager, trying to shove this ridiculous present through his front door. And Derek can’t help it, he cracks a tiny smile. Stiles glances up just in time to catch it. A huge grin takes over the teen’s face.

Derek shakes his head, still grinning and goes to help Stiles get the present through the door. The box gets slightly smashed, but Stiles doesn’t seem to care. Derek carries the box into the remains of his living room with Stiles close on his heels. They sit on the floor facing each other. Stiles is still smiling and he looks eager for Derek to open his present.

Derek starts peeling the paper off, as slow as he can, because he knows it will annoy Stiles. Stiles leans forward and tries to grab at the paper, but Derek moves it out of his reach while tutting. Stiles sits back down, hands twitching in his lap. Derek takes pity on the poor boy and rips the rest of the paper of the box. The lid of the box is securely wrapped in duct tape, almost like Stiles had used an entire roll, thinking it would be funny. Derek raises his eyebrow and Stiles grins sheepishly. Derek lets a claw grow out and cuts through the tape.

He lifts the lid off the box and peers inside. He has to stifle a laugh. Inside the box, sits a giant stuffed wolf. Derek pulls the animal out and tosses the box behind him. The wolf has black fur, soft to the touch, and its eyes are crystal blue. Derek runs his hand through the fur and looks up at Stiles. The human looks apprehensive, like he’s waiting for Derek’s approval.

Stiles licks his lips, and then explains in a rush of words that he saw the wolf at the store and it immediately reminded him of the alpha, back before he was an alpha, of course, still with the blue eyes, and he couldn’t help it, he just had to buy it. Derek’s eyes sparkle with amusement as Stiles finishes his rant and sucks in a huge gulp of air.

He looks back down at the wolf and notices something around its neck. Derek pulls the wolf up to eye level and barks out a laugh when he sees the collar with a tag that has DEREK engraved on it in big bold letters.

Turn it over, he hears Stiles mutter. Derek turns the tag over and reads: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SOURWOLF! -STILES Derek doesn’t like the sudden lump in his throat. He doesn’t like remembering that the last gift he’d ever received, his leather jacket, was from Laura, before she had left New York to come back to Beacon Hills.

But when he looks up, meets the teen’s earnest gaze, Derek feels his heart flutter. He clears his throat and swallows a few times before whispering a thank you. Stiles smiles then, big and wide and happy, glad he could do something nice for Derek. Derek smiles back, open and honest for the first time in what he’s sure is years.

They sit like that, in Derek’s blackened living room, for an hour or so, occasionally saying a few words, but mostly enjoying the quite and each other’s company. When Stiles does leave, it is past midnight, and he’s happy with the knowledge that he spent time with the sourwolf so he wasn’t alone on his birthday.

Derek walks him to his jeep, stuffed wolf tucked under his arm. Before he gets in his jeep, Stiles reaches out and pats the wolves head while looking at Derek.

He’s a good wolf, Stiles says, even though he doesn’t think so and now he knows that he doesn’t always have to be alone.

Derek sucks in a breath, knowing something important just happened. Stiles holds his gaze for another moment, still patting the wolf, before he turns and gets in his jeep. Derek stands there, watching until the jeep’s tail lights are out of sight. He turns back to his house, grinning to himself.

When he lays down to sleep, he tucks the wolf under his arm and falls asleep thinking of the boy who went out of his way to make sure he wasn’t alone on his birthday.

And if Stiles goes home that night and sleeps with an identical stuffed wolf, well, Derek never has to know.

[captain-snark]

Sterek fic where Stiles gets Derek drunk for the first time.  

Stiles is more than curious about what Derek would be like with a few drinks in him. He has his suspicions but there’s also the possibility of an even sour Derek or an angry Derek.

Stiles’ suspicions are confirmed when Derek has smiled at him three times in the last hour. Three different smiles. 

One is the kind Stiles gets more often these days, the one when Derek humors him. The one that reminds Stiles of Derek at sixteen, before the fire.

The second is the fake grin, blinding and breathtaking, that Derek uses when he’s turning on the flirt. Derek catches him in a lie. They’re sitting around Derek’s coffee table with the scrabble board between them (Drunk Derek also has a surprisingly good vocabulary) When Derek leans forward towards Stiles a little too far, slapping his tiles down with unnecessary force, clearly very proud of whatever word he’s made:

“Sex…” Stiles sighs, tallying up the points. Derek is winning. Stiles can’t think of words at the best of time let alone pretty drunk.

“You want to have sex with me, don’t you, Stiles?” Derek asks dramatically.

“Jesus chrysanthemums, Derek,” Stiles says, he thinks it’s more of a slur, “No I don’t,” Stiles ducks his head and pretends to do math. 

“Your nose is growing,” Derek says. “Or maybe something e–”

“–you do not finish that sentence, Derek,” Stiles interrupts. Derek just leers at him, which is so much worse when he doesn’t have his stupidly sexy aviators on. 

The third one is by far the worst of all. 

They’re outside on the balcony, laying on a blanket that Stiles thinks is probably too expensive to be laid out on a filthy ground. Stiles tries to point this out but Derek looks devastated and says, “I like the way it feels.”

So, they’re laying side by side on it and staring up at the stars when Stiles asks, “You could have gotten drunk before, but you said you didn’t want to,” Stiles says, “what changed?”

“You asked,” Derek replies, eyes on the sky. 

“Yeah,” Stiles sighs, “wait what?” 

Derek laughs at him before rolling over onto his side. Stiles mirrors the movement.  “I never wanted to drink alone, and I wouldn’t trust anyone else,” Derek tells him, easy. Stiles’ mouth is open he thinks. 

“Why?” Stiles asks, fascinated. Derek’s brow furrows adorably, and Stiles reaches out a hand to brush his thumb across it. He pulls his hand back quickly and says, “sorry, dude.”

But Derek just smiles at him. Stiles has seen this smile before, once, and he doesn’t think he was supposed to. This is the part where Derek usually ducks his head, like he’s protecting himself from too much affection.

Except, this time he doesn’t. He’s looking at Stiles in a way that makes his heart stutter in his chest. “Oh,” Stiles says. 

“We’ve all made some real bad interpersonal choices in the past, but statistically speaking you’ve never given me a reason not to trust you,” Derek says.

Stiles flushes, “yeah, well same to you,” he stutters out, flustered. 

“Not really,” Derek admits. Stiles laughs, hysterically. Derek just smiles that smile at him. It makes Stiles sober enough to lean into Derek’s space and say soft and private, 

“When we’re sober, and if it’s still okay, do you think, maybe I could ask you out?” 

“Not if I ask you first,” Derek returns. 

“You’re on.”

[michicant123]

Honey, Can’t you See (The Bloodstains on my Teeth) by @troubleiwant

“Mr Stilinski.” Deaton’s usually impassive face betrays a hint of surprise today, maybe even disappointment. “You haven’t changed your mind.”

Stiles tips his chin up, smiling against his irritation. “Nope,” he confirms, so cheerily it bites. They had arranged this weeks ago, yet Deaton was apparently betting Stiles wouldn’t go through with it in the end. Fuck that. He doesn’t know what it’s like out there, not really. He can afford to hold himself aloof and uninvolved, knowing his druid power is enough to keep him safe in this little office. Stiles can’t. Scott’s pack has got to protect this whole town, and Stiles’ spark isn’t enough to protect all of them while they do it.

The thing is, magic isn’t like the fairy tales. It’s blood and risk and sacrifice. Nothing comes without a price, and anyone who tries to say different is baiting a hook to gut you on. Stiles knows that, has known it since he was a kid and his mother started training him for the inevitable day when he’d need to fight for his life.

That day had come four years ago when she died, and it hasn’t stopped yet.

[watermelonsea]

My second piece for the Sterek Reversebang!

Thanks so much @alxdiamond​ for taking on my weird space babes!

——————————————————-

Title:  The Epic Space Opera of Stiles Stilinski and Sergeant Spacewolf

Author: @alxdiamond

Summary:  Beacon Station is an extraplanetary center of research and exploration. Human scientist and minor disaster Stiles Stilinski lives there, as does the grumpiest alien ever: Derek Hale, the titular Sergeant Spacewolf himself. After a rocky start to their acquaintance, they’ve settled into sort of a love-hate relationship, wherein Stiles pines and provokes in approximately equal measure, and Derek grudgingly tolerates. 

When a mechanical failure leaves them stranded together in the vacuum of space, the impending doom of almost certain death forces the truth of their feelings to the fore. Will our heroes finally get together? Will it even matter? Will they survive the danger?

(Yes, yes, and yes. There wouldn’t be a story to tell otherwise.)

Tags: Alternate Universe - Space, Alien Derek, Pining Stiles, Light Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Getting Together

Rating: Teen and up

Word count: 4.8k

[5inbinary]

Art for Full Count, Bases Loaded by @eeyore9990 (link to be added once it’s up) for the Sterek Reversebang. Find this art on AO3 here

We need more baseball AU’s in the fandom! A reworked version which is more in tune with the story is admittedly in progress except my computer died tonight.

[classy2shoes]

~ Stiles sleeping on top of Derek. Sleepy nuzzling and neck kisses follow. ~

My entry for the Sterek Reverse Bang 2017! Check out @godetiawrites​‘ story “Like the Red String of Fate” here on tumblr!

Excerpt: “From the age of twelve, Stiles had recurring dreams of a set of eyes. Well, it was a guy he was dreaming of, but in the morning, he could really only remember his eyes… ”

[xemoghourlx]

So! It’s very late and here is my @sterekreversebang art to standinginanicedress’ amazing fic. I really hope you guys like it!! ;; 

[jennthereaper]

Unraveled

My entry for the @sterekreversebang:

Art by @kaistrex, fic by me.

Read it on AO3

Title: Unraveled Author: Reaping Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20,631 Summary: Of late, he’d grown increasingly cautious of the entire Argent household, a strange itch forming under his skin whenever he ran across them

Mieczyslaw would swear later there was the sound of shattering glass before memories began to flood in. He felt his chest heave with panic, eyes dripping tears as his knees began to buckle before Deaton caught him, helping him remain upright until the strength returned to his legs.

Deaton turned toward him again, face set in determination

“Stiles, run.

And so he did.

[freydcatt]

Sterek Reversebang 2017

Third and final artpiece done for the reversebang. Originally titled ‘Guard’, this one may eventually inspire me to write a story of my own. If only because I’m a creeper who likes collars too much. The two stories inspired by this art are linked below;

Lalabulie by Herm_own_ninny - A series of glimpses into the life of Derek - an abused werewolf rescued from a breeding facility in Spokane - and his new owner Stiles, who comes to mean more to him than he could have imagined. A simultaneously sweet and yet confronting story, with some fantastic smut thrown in as a bonus. 

Through the Ashes  by JusticeBanana - In a world where werewolves are bought and sold like cars (and often given less care and attention than cars) Derek gets a second chance at happiness when he’s taken in by the Stilinskis.

[userachel]

A Sterek Reverse Bang collab with the wonderful Kulkuri Forgive Yourself For Not Being Ready (Yet) Summary: It takes Derek a couple years to catch on. He’s so used to being used in a relationship, that it doesn’t register to him that what he has with Stiles isn’t merely friendship anymore. Not that he had been in a place where he could’ve mentally processed the idea of a relationship, even a year back, but working with his therapist has gotten him a long way from the terrified 23-year old, to a somewhat functioning adult. In the end, it takes him a few full pots of coffee, a couple trips to the pharmacy, a dozen lunch dates with Stiles and his father, and a couple centuries old sorcerer for him to finally connect the dots. Will link to fanfic once posted

[alphahel]

Sterek Reverse Bang 2017: A feeling so startling [AO3] written by @apollonian, artwork by @alphahel 

Thanks to @pseudoapollonian for picking my drawing and write this wonderful fic for @sterekreversebang​

Summary:

Stiles and Derek, swimming in the ocean, causing a commotion, ‘cause they are so awesome.

Alternatively, the one in which everyone is a merperson and Stiles and Derek have a chance encounter.

- click to enlarge/get better quality & reblogs are much appreciated :3

- please don’t repost or remove the commentary/description -

[captaintinymite]

My entry for the Sterek Reverse Bang 2017. Read @froggydarren‘s fic “A Bit of a Fixer Upper” on ao3.

Summary:

The Hale skiing resort is known for coaching skiers and snowboarders that have various levels of experience. Nevertheless, it’s rare – it never happened before, as far as Derek knows – that Talia would decide to coach someone who’s technically too old to be starting in competitive skiing or riding. On top of that, the kid comes in too close to the competition season, and suddenly the finely honed training system is threatened. The last thing Derek needs this close to tournaments is a distraction. No matter how talented or attractive, the kid that his Mom has decided to coach is going to be just that, and Derek is already unimpressed, before the guy even gets to the resort. aka The One Where there’s a lot of snow, nobody builds a snowman, and Stiles is the distraction that Derek doesn’t need.

[mysnarkyself]

SterekReverseBang 2017

Titel: Dancing On Blades

Author: @tryslora

Link to Fic : AO3

For my second contribution to the Sterek Reverse Bang I had the honor to work with @tryslora. She created a wonderful fic for this gifset. I can’t thank her enough.

My first art contribution to the SRB was posted on June 8th  and  June 29th.

[watermelonsea]

My first piece for the 2017 Sterek Reversebang!  Fic lovingly written by @fishcommander, who was super awesome to work with!!

—————————-

 “And When I Wake You’re There I’m Saved”.

“Derek,” Stiles says, firm. His hand is warm on Derek’s shoulder. “I’ll be okay.”

“You didn’t leave me,” Derek argues. “How can you expect me to leave you?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Oh my god, it’ll be fine. Even if I am captured, I’m just a boring human. They wanted you for your Lycan blood.”

Derek crosses his arms. Mainly so he doesn’t wrap his hands around Stiles’ throat in an attempt to throttle some sense into him. “That’s fine. But this isn’t a time when being a boring human is an asset. This is a time when being a boring human results in a shot to the head.”

“Derek,” Stiles says again. He steps closer, so Derek is surrounded in his scent, his chemosignals—namely unwavering, resolute determination, distinctively sharp and entirely unbreakable—clouding Derek’s mind. “You’ll come back for me.” He sounds so sure, and he can tell the exact moment Derek gives in. Because Derek somehow always gives in to Stiles.

“I’ll come back for you,” he confirms. “And you better not be dead.”

Stiles grins, eyes sparkling with far too much humour for someone who potentially just sacrificed himself for a surly Lycan and bunch of strangers. “You do say the sweetest things.”