SUMMARY: Derek, a tough, serious guy, impervious to any kind of emotions, turns out to have a weakness and it's not wolfsbane.
NOTE: My love for Teen Wolf has risen from the ashes. I love that show so much, I need them to make another movie or a spin-off with the same characters. I don't know what you think, but the only good thing about the movie was Eli. Also, reader name's Sage, I'm sorry it was more comfortable for me while writing if reader had a name xoxo
DAY OF ARRIVING LATE EVERYWHERE
mer day in Beacon Hills. You kicked off the sheets with a sigh and swung your legs over the side of the bed.
Throwing on your favorite denim miniskirt and a snug black tank top, you brushed your pitch-black hair quickly, letting it fall naturally over your shoulders. A quick check in the mirror — bright green eyes still sleepy but sharp — and you tugged on your chunky black boots. Comfortable and just rebellious enough for a Thursday.
The smell of coffee and toast hit you the second you stepped into the kitchen. Scott was already seated, fully dressed, motorcycle helmet resting securely on his arm like it was a part of his body. Melissa buzzed around the kitchen in her scrubs, clearly mid-rush.
“You know,” you said, grabbing a banana off the counter and tossing it in the air, “you don’t need to have your helmet on your arm while you eat breakfast.”
Scott didn’t look up, just took another bite of toast. “It’s cool.”
“Mmhm,” you replied, leaning back against the fridge. “If it’s so cool, maybe you could use your cool points to take me to school again.”
He raised a brow, chewing. “I take you every day. Why do you act like it’s some kind of favor?”
“Because one day, you’re gonna be too cool and leave me stranded.”
“Never gonna happen,” he said through a mouthful of eggs.
Melissa passed behind him and leaned down to kiss the top of his head, then gently placed her hand on your shoulder. “Be nice to him,” she said playfully. “He’s your chauffeur and your brother this week.”
“I’m always nice to him,” you called out as she grabbed her keys.
Melissa gave you both a tired smile, already halfway out the door. “Try not to let the school burn down today. Or yourselves.”
“No promises,” you and Scott said in unison.
The motorcycle ride was smooth, the wind whipping through your hair, tugging at your clothes as you held onto Scott’s sides. The morning sun burned low on the horizon, golden and slow, and the streets of Beacon Hills rolled past in a blur of green trees and brick buildings.
When Scott parked in front of the school, it was still early. Students wandered across the lot in small groups, laughing, talking, and clinging to iced coffees. You slipped off the bike, smoothing your skirt and shaking out your hair, already sticking to your neck from the heat.
“Ugh, how is it this hot before third period?” you muttered.
“You wore boots in June,” Scott pointed out.
“Fashion before function,” you replied, brushing past him.
The two of you pushed through the front doors into the cool hallways of Beacon Hills High, the air conditioning a relief against your skin. That’s when Scott slowed beside you.
You noticed his shoulders tense.
“What?” you asked.
He sniffed once, subtly, then again. “Do you smell that?”
“Um. Hormones? Teen spirit? Whatever’s in the cafeteria?”
“No. It’s—” His eyes narrowed. “Wolves.”
You blinked. “Like, new wolves?”
Scott nodded once. “Strong scent. Close. And—” He paused. “Identical.”
You frowned. “Identical? Like… twins?”
He didn’t answer. Just scanned the hall ahead.
And then you saw them.
Two tall figures walked side by side down the opposite hallway — both broad-shouldered, clean-cut, confident. Like they were born to take up space. One of them glanced your way as they passed, his eyes flicking over you with the casual ease of someone used to being looked at. You turned your head fast, cheeks warm.
“Okay,” you muttered, “you were right.”
Scott didn’t reply, but the way his jaw clenched said enough.
-
By third period, the whole school was buzzing. You, Scott, and Stiles sat at your usual table outside the science lab, sharing theories and leftover chips.
“I’m telling you,” Stiles said, eyes wide, “they’re not just new guys. They’re like... evil Abercrombie clones.”
“Clones?” you laughed.
“Have you seen them? No human has cheekbones that sharp naturally. It’s unholy.”
Scott still looked uneasy. “They’re wolves. I’m sure of it. The way they move… and that scent.”
Stiles leaned in. “Okay, but like… alphas? Betas? Omegas?”
You rolled your eyes. “Let’s just hope they’re normal for once.”
The bell rang, and you split up for class. It wasn’t until later — just before the last period — that things got interesting again.
-
You stood at your locker, swapping out books for calculus, when you felt someone behind you.
Not just someone walking past. Someone watching you. Standing too still.
You turned slowly.
“Sorry,” the boy said, voice smooth, almost apologetic. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m new. I think I got lost — I have calculus next, and this place is a maze.”
He smiled.
It was one of the twins.
“I’m Aiden.”
You blinked, caught off guard, but forced yourself to smile politely. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sage.”
He reached out — not for a handshake, but to take your hand gently and kiss the back of it. His lips were soft. Bold move.
You tried not to react, tried not to laugh, or blush, or punch him. You settled on raising an eyebrow.
“Beautiful name,” he said, his eyes tracing your face. “Almost as pretty as your eyes.”
Okay. Blush.
“Are you from here?”
“Born and raised,” you said, pulling your hand back gently. “Never left.”
“That’s rare. I’ve moved around so much, I barely know where I belong anymore.”
“That doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” you said with a little shrug.
He tilted his head. “Not now that I’m here. I didn’t know small towns came with girls like you.”
You laughed — half flattered, half unsure how to respond. “Okay. Are you flirting with me, or trying to get to calculus?”
“Can’t it be both?”
You were about to fire back when movement behind him caught your eye. Two familiar idiots — Scott and Stiles — waving at you wildly from across the hall.
“Oh, crap,” you mumbled. “I gotta go. Your class is straight down this hallway, turn right, first door on the left. Bye!”
You hurried past Aiden, heart still thudding a little faster than you liked.
-
The loft was quiet when you arrived — but it wasn’t calm.
Isaac sat on the couch, shoulders shaking, wrapped in a blanket. His face was pale, eyes wide. Peter lounged nearby, picking at invisible lint on his shirt. Derek stood with his back to you, tense, arms folded, staring out the window.
You smacked his arm. “You couldn’t start the Jeep.”
You stepped past the boys and moved toward Derek, lowering your voice. “It wasn’t my fault.”
He looked at you then, over his shoulder. His eyes softened and then, for just a second, he smiled at you. “No, you just delayed us twenty minutes flirting with the new guy,” Scott said behind you.
You froze. Derek’s gaze shifted. Sharpened. Smile completely gone as if it was never there.
“Flirting?” he said, voice flat.
You turned fully to face him. “He asked where his class was.”
Scott lifted a hand in mock defense. “‘I didn’t know small towns had such pretty girls.’”
“Oh my god, please shut up,” you groaned, covering your face with both hands.
Peter smirked. “You’re at a disadvantage,” he muttered to Derek, watching the tension like it was a soap opera.
Derek didn’t take the bait. He just looked at you. Not angry. Just... unreadable.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you mumbled. “I didn’t know we were supposed to come right away.”
He blinked once, and the moment passed. “Let’s get back to the point.”
NOSY
The loft was warm with late sun pouring through the huge windows, casting golden shadows across the floor. You pushed open the door with your hip, holding a bottle of peach iced tea in one hand and your phone in the other. Derek had told you to stop by earlier in the day, said something vague about “going over some things.” You knew what that meant.
Training. Again.
You liked the loft. It was always a little too quiet, a little too dark, but it smelled like old books, pine, and leather. Derek’s jacket was still draped over the back of the couch. Music played softly from an old stereo in the corner—something moody and instrumental. You walked in like you owned the place, because honestly, by now, you sort of did.
Peter was stretched across the couch like an annoying cat, one leg propped up on the armrest, flipping through some magazine you were almost certain didn’t belong to him.
“Oh, look who’s here,” Peter said without glancing up. “The sugar-powered prodigy herself.”
“Hi, Peter,” you said flatly, walking right past him.
“You’re late,” came Derek’s voice from the spiral staircase.
You looked up. He stood a few steps from the top, dressed in his usual black T-shirt and jeans, hair tousled, gaze intense. Why was he always brooding like he was posing for a Calvin Klein ad?
“I wasn’t aware we had a schedule,” you said, pulling off your jacket and dropping it onto a nearby chair.
“You said ‘around five.’ It’s five-thirty.”
“You’ll survive,” you replied, flashing him a grin.
The next hour was spent doing what you liked least: arguing.
“I’m telling you, I don’t need to learn how to fight,” you huffed, arms crossed as you stood in the open space near the kitchen. “My powers are more than enough.”
Derek paced slowly around you like he was circling prey. “While I’d love to be there every second to protect you,” he said, tone pointed, “there might come a time when I’m not.”
You rolled your eyes. “I could literally fling you through the wall with a single thought, Hale.”
“That’s cute,” Peter chimed in, still from the couch.
Derek ignored him. “You’re just learning how to use your powers. You don’t really know what you’re capable of. And that makes you vulnerable.”
You stepped forward, chin tilted high. “You’re acting like I’m helpless. Like I’m someone who needs to be babysat.”
He didn’t back away. In fact, he stepped closer. “No. I’m acting like someone who doesn’t want to watch you get hurt because you were overconfident.”
You opened your mouth to fire back, but—
Bzzz bzzz.
Your phone lit up in your hand. Unknown number.
“One sec,” you muttered, walking a few paces away as Derek’s jaw flexed. He didn’t like being interrupted, and he definitely didn’t like you being interrupted.
You swiped to answer, turning your back to him.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Sage?”
Aiden. You straightened instinctively. “Oh. Hi, yeah.”
“I was wondering… would you want to maybe get coffee? Like, now?”
Your pulse skipped. “Now?” you repeated.
“If that’s okay.”
You hesitated. Glanced back toward Derek, who was very clearly not pretending not to listen.
“Sure,” you said, your voice a little too light. “You mean the place downtown?”
“Yeah. Ten minutes?”
“Perfect. See you there.”
You hung up slowly, face warming.
Behind you, the tension in the room had shifted dramatically. You didn’t even need supernatural senses to feel it.
“Sorry, Der,” you said, already moving toward your jacket. “I have to go.”
“Where exactly are you going?” he asked, arms folded tightly across his chest. “I thought you were staying.”
You hesitated by the door, forcing your expression into something innocent. “A friend called. Emergency. Girl stuff. But I can come back tomorrow. I promise I’ll stay the whole day.”
Derek stepped closer. Much closer. He wasn’t angry—not in the usual explosive way. But something about the way he moved made your throat dry up. He stopped just inches from you, so close you could feel the heat off his chest.
“Girls’ emergency,” he said, voice low.
“Yes,” you whispered, suddenly very aware of how small the space between you was. “Incredibly urgent.”
His eyes didn’t leave yours. He stared at you like he could see straight through the lie. Your heart thudded hard in your chest, and your fingers curled slightly around the hem of your jacket.
And then—without a word—he stepped away. He didn’t look at you again. Just turned and walked toward the stairs, every muscle in his back tight.
You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but he was already halfway up to his room.
Peter, who had watched the entire exchange like it was a soap opera, let out a delighted sigh.
“Little liar,” he said, raising his glass of water like it was champagne. “I like you even more now.”
You rolled your eyes, cheeks on fire, and slammed the loft door a little harder than necessary behind you.
YOU LIAR! YOU NOSY!
The café was dimly lit and mostly empty, save for a couple of college kids in the corner and the bored barista scrolling on her phone behind the counter. Warm fairy lights framed the front windows, their golden glow washing over the small table where you sat across from Aiden.
You stirred your iced coffee absently, watching him as he talked. He was charming in a way that felt rehearsed but effective—effortless smirks, confident eye contact, just enough mystery behind his words to make it feel intentional.
“You know,” he said, leaning forward slightly, “you don’t look like you belong in a place like Beacon Hills.”
You quirked a brow. “And what does someone like me look like?”
“Like you belong somewhere bigger. Flashier. Maybe where the coffee doesn’t taste like regret.”
You laughed softly, sipping from your straw. “It’s not that bad.”
He leaned in even closer now. “Still. You’re definitely too pretty"
You blinked at the word. “So… you’re not pretending anymore?”
He just smirked. “I think we’re past pretending.”
Your heart fluttered in a weird, confused way. You weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline of being flirted with by an attractive (and admittedly bold)… or the strange pit of guilt forming in your stomach.
Just as Aiden’s hand brushed against yours on the table, his head tilted slightly, eyes flicking toward your lips—about to kiss you—
The front door swung open so hard it slammed against the wall.
“Really?” came a sharp voice.
Your head snapped up.
Derek.
In full storm mode.
He didn’t hesitate. He crossed the café in seconds, stepped right between you and Aiden without so much as a glance at the table, and shoved Aiden backward with one hand against his chest.
You gasped. “Derek?!”
Aiden stumbled slightly but caught his footing, laughing as he lifted his hands. “Whoa. Easy.”
“Stay away from her,” Derek snapped, voice low and dangerous, and—
His eyes flashed red.
Aiden only smirked wider. “I wasn’t going to bite her…” he said smoothly, then added with a wink at you, “Not unless she asked to.”
You blinked. “Oh my god.”
Derek stepped forward, fists clenched, growl building in his throat.
“You can’t always protect her, Hale,” Aiden added, smug, knowing exactly what buttons he was pressing.
Derek lunged.
But before he could touch him again, you moved—instinctively, grabbing Derek’s arm from behind, pulling him back, your hands tight around his bicep.
“Derek, stop! What the hell is going on?!”
He was shaking with fury under your hands. His jaw locked, chest heaving. You’d seen him angry before—but this? This was different.
Aiden gave you a cocky little salute. “See you around, Sage.”
And with that, he sauntered out of the café, like he hadn’t just almost gotten mauled in front of the espresso machine.
You turned to Derek, still holding his arm. “What the hell was that?”
His jaw clicked. “He’s part of the alpha pack.”
You froze. “What?”
“He and his brother—they’re both part of it. They’re not just new kids. They’re dangerous. Manipulative. They’re hunting us.”
The information hit you hard—but it wasn’t what you were expecting to hear. Your hand dropped from his arm slowly.
“Oh,” you said after a beat, trying not to sound too disappointed. “Well… damn. He was cute.”
Derek tensed like you’d slapped him. He turned slowly, eyes narrowing.
“You lied to me.”
You blinked. “What?”
“You told me it was a girl emergency.”
Your heart sank. “Okay—yes, I lied. I’m sorry. But you wouldn’t have let me go, and I needed to get out. It wasn’t that big of a deal—”
“Of course I wouldn’t have let you go,” he snapped. “You don’t know them. You don’t know what they’re capable of.”
“I’m not some helpless child, Derek.”
“No,” he said, voice quieter now, angrier in a different way. “But you’re also not invincible. And this is exactly why you need to train. You’re not ready.”
You crossed your arms, stepping away from him, frustration bubbling in your chest. “Why does it bother you so much that I missed one day of training? One day, Derek. I train every day with you. Every day. And I already said I was sorry.”
He didn’t answer, not right away.
So you pressed, squinting at him. “Wait… how did you even know where I was?”
He stiffened.
“Derek.”
Still nothing.
Your eyes widened. “You heard my call?!”
He looked vaguely toward the counter, anywhere but your face.
“You were eavesdropping! You’re a nosy wolf!”
“That’s not the point.”
“Oh, it is the point!”
“You lied to me.”
You groaned, running a hand down your face. “You know what? I did. I lied. And you know what else? You followed me. Stalked me. So maybe we’re even.”
Derek’s silence was thunderous. His hands flexed at his sides, and you realized he was trying very hard not to say something he’d regret.
You exhaled loudly, finally letting the tension fall out of your shoulders. You didn’t want to keep fighting him. You were still confused, still trying to sort out why he was so mad.
You stepped toward the door, assuming he was taking you back to Scott’s.
But he wasn’t following.
You turned around. “Aren’t we leaving?”
“We are.”
“…To Scott’s?”
“No.”
You frowned. “Then where?”
He finally looked at you again, voice dark. “The loft.”
You blinked. “What? Why?”
“Because I’m not leaving you alone. Not when he’s behind you like that. Not for a second.”
You stared at him, caught off guard by the fierce protectiveness in his voice. The heat behind it. It wasn’t just duty. It was personal.
You swallowed hard, nodded once, and followed him out.
And the whole way to the loft, you couldn’t stop thinking about how close he’d gotten. How tightly he’d clenched his fists. How red his eyes had glowed the second Aiden had looked at you like that.
And somewhere inside your chest, something fluttered and ached at the same time.
PLAY PRETEND
You were at your locker, halfway through switching your calculus book for your lit folder, when it hit you—the prickling weight of someone watching you.
That sensation along the back of your neck.
You glanced over your shoulder.
The hallway was full of movement—students rushing to beat the bell—but no one was looking directly at you.
Still, you felt it.
Then the bell rang.
The crowd thinned.
And before you could even close your locker—
“Hey, stranger,” came a voice.
Aiden.
You tensed immediately. Your hand froze mid-motion on your locker door. Slowly, you turned your head. He was standing right beside you, that infuriatingly charming smile plastered across his face like nothing had ever happened.
“What do you want?” you asked flatly, trying to ignore the way your heart jumped in your chest. Not because you were happy to see him. But because, despite everything, he was still painfully attractive—and dangerously persuasive.
“Oh, come on,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re not really gonna let one little fight ruin the beautiful friendship we were building, are you?”
He leaned against the locker beside yours, his voice dropping. “We had something good, didn’t we? Maybe even more…”
Your back hit the metal behind you as he invaded your space. His presence was bold—too bold—and yet he moved like it was natural, like he already belonged there.
“Stop flirting with me,” you said, voice low and defensive. It sounded more like a plea than a demand.
But he didn’t flinch. “Don’t listen to Derek,” Aiden said, stepping even closer, his tone softening as if it would make his words easier to swallow. “Whatever he told you, whatever story he spun, it’s not the full truth. I’m not the enemy here.”
You narrowed your eyes, heart thudding a little faster. “Derek didn’t tell me anything. But your red glowing eyes and smug attitude kind of gave it away.”
He smiled. “So you know now.”
“I know enough.”
“Then you should know I’m not here to hurt you,” he said, lowering his voice and glancing down at your lips. “I’m here because I want to see you again. Go out with me. Just once. No lies. No Derek. Just you and me.”
You opened your mouth. Then closed it. Why was he making it hard to say no?
You weren’t thinking about accepting—not even for a second. You knew what he was. You knew it was wrong. But still… no one had ever looked at you like this before. Like they wanted you. Like they were dying to be near you.
Your voice slipped out before you could stop it.
“Of course the first hot guy to ever ask me out turns out to be a murderous lunatic.”
His smirk faltered for just a second.
“Sorry,” you added quickly, grabbing your books. “I have to go.”
You turned and bolted down the hallway toward class, heart still pounding. You didn’t even look back.
Not even when you felt him still watching.
Your lit teacher was halfway through analyzing a paragraph from Wuthering Heights when the door slammed open.
BANG.
Every head turned.
Your breath caught in your throat.
Derek.
Standing in the doorway. Handsome. Wild. Intense.
His leather jacket shifted with the rise and fall of his chest. His jaw was locked, brows furrowed, eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice low, commanding.
Whispers exploded around you. Someone gasped.
“Is that Derek Hale?”
“Oh my god, why is he here?”
“Are they dating?”
“Holy shit, he’s hot.”
You sank lower into your chair, mortified. “Derek, what are you doing?!”
He didn’t answer. He was already striding toward you, ignoring your teacher’s confused protests.
“Mr. Hale—sir—this is a classroom—”
Derek didn’t even blink. He reached your desk, grabbed your hand, and pulled you out of your seat in one smooth, forceful motion.
“Derek, seriously—!” you yelped, stumbling after him.
The entire class fell silent.
He dragged you into the hallway, closing the door behind you.
“Have you completely lost your mind?!” you hissed, yanking your arm free. “You can’t just kidnap me in the middle of English!”
“Did you talk to Aiden again?” he demanded, ignoring everything.
You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“I felt it,” he said, stepping closer. “Your heartbeat. It spiked.”
“It wasn’t even a full minute. And he came up to me. I didn’t say yes to anything.”
Derek’s jaw clenched. “But you didn’t say no.”
You stared. “Wait… were you spying on me again?!”
“I’m not spying on you, I’m watching out for you.”
You stepped back, exasperated. “You’re unbelievable—”
He cut you off with a kiss.
No warning. No hesitation.
Just fire.
His lips crashed into yours, his hands finding your waist as your back slammed lightly into the lockers. You gasped against his mouth, the noise swallowed by his kiss as your fingers shot up to his neck, tangling in his hair, holding him to you like your body had been waiting for this.
The kiss was everything—hot, possessive, desperate. Like he’d been holding back for weeks and finally snapped. His body pressed against yours, heat blooming between you. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your legs shaking as his fingers gripped your hips like he wasn’t planning to let go.
When he finally pulled back, you were breathless.
“What the hell was that?” you whispered, lips swollen, heart pounding like thunder in your ears.
Derek’s eyes were hooded, dark. “Don’t even think about going on that date.”
You stared at him, lips parted, dazed. “You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?”
His mouth curved into a dark smile. “Nope.”
“You’re not going to stop stalking me?”
“Definitely not.”
You laughed—nervous, breathless. “You’re insane.”
“You won’t even have the strength to get out of bed,” he growled in your ear.
Your face flushed a deep red.
You didn’t argue.
The second the door closed behind you, you were in his arms again.
Every step forward was another feverish kiss. He backed you up against the nearest wall, mouth on yours, hands lifting you effortlessly off the floor. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively.
You whimpered into his mouth. “You’ve been dying to do this, haven’t you?”
He growled low, biting softly at your lower lip. “You have no idea.”
Your jacket fell to the floor. His shirt joined it.
And just when he reached the bottom of the stairs—
“Oh, come on,” came Peter’s voice from the couch.
You froze.
Derek didn’t.
“Remember I live here too,” Peter muttered, rolling his eyes.
Derek didn’t even glance at him. “Get out.”
“I was here first.”
“Peter.”
You were trying to look anywhere but at Peter.
“Fine. I’ll go find something better to do than listen to you two claw each other to death.”
He vanished out the door.
Derek didn’t waste a second. His hands slid back under your thighs, lifting you again, carrying you straight up the stairs to his room like it was the only place in the world that mattered.
Derek winces as Eli paces the living room rug, his small fists balled up at his sides. Tears stain his round cheeks and his eyes flicker dangerously between gold and brown but he’s been able to stop the shift more than once. It’s impressive for his age, for the fact that this is his first time dealing with the full moon but Derek is also aware how much it hurts and his heart breaks a little with each stifled cry.
"Want ‘Tiles…" Eli murmurs pathetically before crumbling down onto the rug.
"I know you do. I’m sorry E… I didn’t think you’d have to go through this." Derek says gently, reaching to pull him into his lap. He drains out some of the pain, watching his son lean into his palm. It’s not as bad as it was, Eli has calmed considerably since walking into the loft, comforted by familiar smells but any small thing still threatens to set him off again, the shift flickering in and out like a candle flame and each time it does Eli pushes him away, preferring not to be touched.
"Where ‘Tiles!?" Eli demands from his chest and Derek doesn’t know. Doesn’t know how to say that it’s possible Stiles doesn’t come. That he has no obligation to them. That humans were notorious for lying. That his anchor would change many times throughout his life and he could try focusing on something else but Eli looks so broken and miserable he can’t say any of it. He just looks back at the clock, noting that school had let out 30 minutes ago and Eli was shuddering against the shift again.
"It’s going to be okay E…" He tries to soothe but Eli is already pulling away, a whimpering howl leaving him as his face morphs again. Fangs falling passed his lips. He wails at the sudden fierceness of it, throwing himself down onto the floor howling and screeching and that’s when Derek hears the thunderous sound of footsteps racing up the stairs.
"Derek!" Stiles calls frantically, his hand pounding against the door and the alpha can barely contain his relief and surprise when the human’s worried voice rises over his son’s screaming. "Derek! Open the-"
Derek hurries to yank the door open and he barely has time to register the bag of food being shoved into his arms before Stiles is at Eli’s side, scooping the toddler up to crush against his chest.
"Tiles!" Eli cries, clutching at his teacher.
"Oh my god." Stiles says breathlessly. "Oh my god I heard you from outside. Are you okay? E, buddy? Hey, look at me. You okay?" But Eli can’t look at him, can only sob and bury his face into the human’s shoulder. Heartbreaking, hiccuping sobs that cause Derek’s own wolf to fidget unhappily. "You didn’t say it would get this bad!" Stiles demands, spinning back to glare at Derek.
Derek feels his mouth go dry as he meets the furious brown eyes.
"I-it usually isn’t for born wolves." Derek tries to explain through the knot in his throat. "We usually start shifting a few months after we’re born and it’s never this strong. Our bodies are supposed to acclimate to it gradually, he’s getting the full force of it all at once." Stiles falls still at the explanation, his mind racing to catch up with all of it before his shoulders ease slightly.
"That’s why you didn’t know he could… you assumed he was human because it’s been years without it." Derek nods pathetically, watching his son taking deep, gasping breaths of Stiles’ scent.
"I’ve never seen it like…it’s not…" He lets the words die out under Eli’s cries and Stiles face softens in understanding.
"Hey. There’s some late bloomers in everything. This isn’t your fault man."
It is his fault. He’s the alpha, the father and he can’t even help his own son. "Hey, come on big guy. I need some instruction here. You said I’m his anchor, and I can kinda guess what that means but how do I help?"
"You’re helping right now. He just needs to be near you. To smell you and touch you. You calm him and when he can stay calm he can control the shift. That dulls the pain." Stiles makes a strange face as he collapses down onto the couch, bringing Eli to his lap as he starts petting through the toddlers hair.
Derek can’t help but stare. Stiles is a few years younger than himself with fair skin and beauty marks and moles peppering along his face and neck. Dark brown hair and amber brown eyes that glint in a way that makes him look like he’s smirking even when he’s not. He smells like cinnamon and ink and books, warm and inviting and it’s no surprise Eli would be drawn to him. He’s exactly the quiet chaos the toddler is fond of. Similar to Erica in a way.
"I’m sorry…" Stiles says, drawing Derek out of his thoughts. "I’m guessing I ruined this for you huh? It’s like an imprint thing? I became his anchor because he saw me first after his first shift and not one of his parents?"
Derek feels the tension in his shoulder ease. "No. You didn’t ruin anything, that’s not really how anchors work. We don’t know what draws us to them, it can be a person, a sound, a smell, an emotion… Anything that reminds us that we’re human. That we feel and want and think as humans do. I’m probably the least plausible person who could have been his anchor because of my wolf. It would have probably drawn his shift out more. as much as it hurts it’s a more natural side to us and the instincts to shift and run and play with my pup are heightened now, I could never help him the way you can."
Stiles eyes soften back down at Eli as the sobs slowly turn to whimpers. "It’s okay then? That I'm his anchor?"
The question throws Derek for a loop. If anything he feels as if he should be asking Stiles how he feels about all this... Becoming a stress-relief pillow for a baby werewolf. "Why wouldn’t it be?"
"I just… most human parents would be pretty livid at me for getting this attached to one of my students. We’re really not suppose to interact with them outside school and while it’s not usually enforced at preschool once they’re in kindergarten and up we’re technically not supposed to touch them. I mean, they’re afraid of nefarious intentions and I totally understand that, I just didn’t want to cross a line with you."
Derek feels his wolf rumble in amusement.
"We’re the opposite, wolves are always touching. Besides I can tell the type of person you are and your intentions just by your scent and I’ve been able to smell it since I first saw you holding him. You care about him. It’s clear to both of us and that’s why he feels so safe with you." Stiles blinks owlishly back at him, his ears turning bright red as he clears his throat.
"Oh. G-Good. I… yeah, that’s good. I was afraid you would be upset."
"I’m not upset with you. I would never have allowed you to take him away from me at the school if I were. I would never have allowed you into our den. There’s little I can do by human law but if I thought for a moment you meant him any harm I would have dealt with you by ours... If anything, I’m not quite sure how to repay you for all this… It’s a little outside your job description."
Stiles snorts, smile widening as Eli’s body begins to relax against him. The feel of the gentle caresses on his back and calming voice lulling him as his human features return.
"Kids come to us with all kinds of problems. Abusive parents, suicidal thoughts, anger issues, personality disorders, physical disabilities…I’m a teacher Derek. I know what I’ve signed up for. Granted, uncontrollable werewolf baby-shift wasn’t on my bingo card but I'm nothing if not adaptable. Besides the school's working on our diversity inclusion."
Derek can’t help it, he laughs, the words so ridiculous and far from what he expected and Stiles grins happily back. Even Eli lifts his head slightly, showing his tear stained face. "Hey buddy," Stiles says, reaching to wipe the wetness off his cheeks with the sleeve of his hooded jacket.
" You came." Eli murmurs quietly, nearly in disbelief and Stiles nods.
"I pinky promised."
"Momma pomised too. She didn come." Derek nearly drops the bag of food he’s holding. Eli rarely ever mentioned Kate. None of the pack did, and though he wasn’t dumb enough to think Eli never thought of her, he knew the few memories he did have were not pleasant ones and neither had wanted to relive them. Hearing her being mentioned now causes his heart to race and if Eli were paying attention to him he knows his son would feed off the distress. Stiles however doesn’t allow him to linger on it when he leans forward and nuzzles his cheek.
"I think your momma needs to go back to school and learn the importance of pinky promises. Maybe she had a bad teacher." Eli nods as if that’s the most acceptable answer he ever heard before tilting his head up to brush his cheek back against him. He scents him. It’s timid and affectionate and Derek’s chest aches to watch it.
" ‘Tiles is da best teacher." He says with a sigh.
"Jeez, can you tell my boss that? I’m going to use you as a reference when my one on one meeting comes up. Your mission is to get me a raise okay?"
"I elp!" Eli says seriously and Stiles beams at him.
"Did it stop hurting little dude?" Stiles asks.
"Don hurt wit ‘Tiles." Eli says, playing with the loose string of his red jacket but the pained look shutters over Stiles’ face before he pushes it away again.
"Well anytime it starts hurting you can always call me. Okay?" Eli nods numbly before turning to Derek who’s watching the whole exchange breathlessly.
"Hungy." He pouts, eyeing the bag clutched in his father’s hand and Stiles is the one who laughs now.
"I guessed by your lunches that werewolf diets are much higher calories than human diets. Your dad said you liked fries so I brought the best fries in town!" Eli smiles at that and Stiles stands to carry him over to Derek.
"Dad must be hungry too…" Stiles says gently. It takes Derek a moment to realize he’s as wound and coiled as a spring, his whole body taut with by the mere mention of Kate and he forces himself to smile at his son.
"Starving…" He says, meeting Stiles’ knowing gaze before motioning them both to the kitchen island. "I’ll grab some plates."
Stiles doesn’t even bother trying to set Eli into his high chair, instead he braces his legs against the cabinet doors and makes a lap for The toddler to sit on. Eli settles on him, one hand hooked around the unzipped portion of his jacket and the other reaching for the curly fries laid out before him. Stiles lays out a burger and portion of fries for Derek before he cuts into his own, ripping pieces of it apart to feed to Eli, affectively making a safety rail with his arms on each side of him. It’s instinctual and easy and domestic and Derek decides instantly that he’s doomed.
His wolf has been unsettled since the start but as Eli calmed and Stiles’ scent turned from anxious to curious to affectionate the feeling of want had fallen over him. The want to scent Stiles. To touch him and claim him and pull him into the pack like a missing piece of a puzzle. Seeing the human in his den, holding and soothing and feeding his son like he was the most precious thing in the world… as if he were his to protect...It was almost too much.
It wasn’t normal for him to get so attached to anyone let alone get attached so quickly but here it was. The stupid, longing and aching need to have the human close wasn’t just Eli’s anymore, it was his own. A feeling he had never felt before and he knows, instinctually what that means for himself.
Mate.
The realization of it makes his heart flutter and stomach sink. He didn’t have a great track record when it came to his love life and dating his child’s teacher-turned anchor was probably the stupidest thing he could even think of doing. Besides, it was Eli who he should be focused on right now. Eli who Stiles was here for.
"Is it… rude, to ask more about this stuff?" Stiles questions after a long stretch of silence. Eli seems obliviously to their talking, his focus solely on a particularly springy-looking curly fry.
"After all you’ve done you can ask me anything you want." Derek answers back and that gets Stiles ears turning red again.
"I just… I understand about the born wolves and bitten wolves. And the alpha, beta, omega thing. But I thought you only turned during a full moon?"
"A full moon is when our control is weakest. We always have an instinctual desire to shift but we can ignore it for the most part. If we get emotional or overwhelmed we loose control faster and a full moon is when those feelings are most turbulent. Once we learn how to control it we’re able to shift at will." Stiles thinks that over for a moment before his eyes widen.
"Wait! Tonight. Full moon is tonight. Is that why it hit Eli?"
"Most likely. It’s probable that it’s been building for a while and the pull of the moon is what tipped him over the edge."
"A-And you? Are you… will you…?"
"No. I haven’t had a problem controlling my shift since I was a teenager."
"Dadda is puppy!" Eli says happily. "Ears! Show ‘Tiles your ears!"
Stiles eyes widen even more and Derek can feel his own face heat up.
"Stiles doesn’t want to see daddy’s ears." Derek says.
"Stiles absolutely wants to see daddy’s ears." Stiles quips back, eyes glinting mischievously at him. "Wait. He said puppy. Not werewolf." Derek almost wishes Stiles was dumber than he is.
"I’m a special case for our kind. I can fully shift."
"Fully shift… puppy? You mean a wolf wolf? Not half human half wolf but full ears, snout, tail wolf?" Derek nods and Stiles looks like he just won the lottery.
"Oh my god. Oh my god."
"Show ‘Tiles!" Eli pleads, French fries now forgotten to turn fully to his father.
"N-no Eli that’s okay! It’s probably pretty painful for your daddy too." Eli stills, his eyes widening like he never really thought of that as a possibility.
"Dadda hurt?" Derek has never felt the need to cry the way he has today. To see the concern in Eli’s eyes makes his own burn.
"It doesn’t hurt as bad anymore." He says as reassuringly as he can but Eli makes an unhappy sound, looking back up at Stiles for his input.
"We'll save daddy’s puppy ears for another time. Okay buddy? Did you eat enough?" Eli nods and suddenly he looks exhausted as Stiles stands with him. Derek follows, picking up the empty plates and watching out of the corner of his eye as Stiles moves around the room, taking in the bookshelves and pictures while bouncing Eli in his arms.
His wolf growls, pleased whenever Stiles’ hand skims over a book's spine, his scent bleeding into the furniture and air. Stiles’ eyes fall onto the clock sitting ontop of the desk and Derek is quick to catch it.
"I’m sorry we’ve kept you, you probably have plans..." Stiles snorts in reply.
"Me? Oh yeah, I got a whole catalog of Netflix documentaries I have to finish." He says sarcastically. " I was more worried about what time the moon rises."
"We can make sure you’re gone before then."
Now Stiles looks back at him, startled.
"Why? Isn’t that when he’ll need me here the most?"
Yes.
It’s what Derek wants to say but the guilt is already filling his chest when he looks over the human. "You have your own life Stiles. I’m sure your wife or girlfriend or friends will miss you. As harsh as it is, this is something he'll have to get used to..."
"I’m not married. And I haven’t had a boyfriend in over a year." He says pointedly, smirking when Derek’s cheeks flush. "And no friends who live close by. I mean, if it'll be easier for me to leave of course I will but if you're saying this for my benefit, I literally live by myself in an old, musky apartment that sometimes has hot water. I spend my night watching documentaries or spiraling down a rabbit hole of useless information and preschool craft ideas. This is the most interesting thing that's happened to me all year and I mean that seriously."
Derek opens his mouth to protest but Stiles cuts him off before he can speak.
"Derek. Will it be easier if I go?" He could lie. Should lie. This isn’t fair to the man, but Eli is now half asleep in his arms, fist clenched around the jacket and any resolve he has vanishes.
"No."
"Do you want me to go?" Stiles presses, voice softer than before.
"No."
"Good. Because I don’t want to go either." Derek can’t stop the pleased rumble of his wolf and Stiles eyes widen slightly when he hears it.
Derek is about to apologize, to spew a thousand different explanations when the man beams at him fondly.
"I’ve heard Eli make that sound before. I thought it was his stomach rumbling." Stiles says, his scent flaring affectionately under the grin. "Happy wolf, right?"
There’s no point in denying it at any rate so Derek nods, watching Stiles chuckle quietly to himself. "You know I was terrified of coming here. Not because of the whole wolf thing but I’m not very good around human people at the best of times. It’s why I like kids, I don’t have to do the song and dance with them. Four years olds never have a problem with telling you how embarrassing you're being... Reassuring grumbles that I’m not entirely annoying is actually really helpful to me."
"You’re not annoying." Derek says firmly. "I’m actually not convinced that you’re not some sort of fae. A human who not only fights to soothe and protect my son but who’s also not running and screaming for our captivity is a blessing I didn’t think I’d ever be worthy of." Stiles face turns scarlet.
"W-wow. Ok. So hot, single, caring dad also just busts out Shakespearean compliments like it’s nothing. Got it." Derek grins.
"Why haven’t you gone to the police?"
"Putting aside the fact that no one would actually believe me," Stiles says. "I really do care about Eli and I think being a single parent is hard enough-I can’t even imagine the stress you’re feeling right now- But you should hear him in class when he’s talking about you. You’re like Superman to him Derek. He practically glows and when it’s time to pack up for the day he flies out of his seat because he can’t wait to see you.
"I’ve seen kids whose parents hurt them. Who feel unwanted or unloved or scared to go home. Those parents are the assholes I have no problem running to cops for. But Eli loves you and that tells me all I need to know about what kind of man you are. Doesn’t matter to me after that whether that man is part wolf." This time when his wolf growls it’s intentional and Stiles seems pleased at that.
"You’re not afraid of me?" Derek asks, eyes flickering down to Eli who is now soundly asleep.
"No." Stiles replies. He says it so easily, casually . Like he’s not talking to an apex predator. And the worst part is, he’s not lying. His heartbeat has remained steady since the moment he barreled through the door. It’s all too much of a good thing. Derek is waiting for the other shoe to drop and he frowns before allowing the red to bleed into his eyes.
"Not even now?" He growls, locking his gaze onto the human.
But Stiles doesn’t seem afraid. He doesn’t seem anything but curious as Eli shifts quietly in his arms. "No."
"You haven’t even asked the one question you’ve been dying to ask since you saw Eli shift." Derek says.
"I don’t have to. You’re not going to bite me so it doesn’t matter if I can turn or not."
"You don’t think I will?" Derek asks curiously.
"Not without my consent." Stiles says with a shrug. "And I know you’re trying to scare me off. You look like you’re responsible for the sins of the world at the best of times so I can see the guilt all over your face but it’s not working Sourwolf. Really, the only thing you’re doing is making me develop a kink for red eyes."
Derek startles back at the words and Stiles smirks as he turns to finish walking the rest of the room.
crack fic where eli thinks cis!stiles and cis!derek are both his bio parents and he crashes out when he finds out that they didn't make him with magic and stiles isn't actually his bio daddy
"BUT I LOOK JUST LIKE YOU!"
"yeah, Derek has a type."
"BUT I THOUGHT THE NEMETON - "
"Auntie Cora told you that when you were, like, six years old. time to grow up, kid."
Yk those videos where people look back at being raised by young parents and they're like: "bro, you were 19, I should not have taken your seriously." I feel like that would be the Hale pack looking back at Derek as their Alpha.
Eli: How old were you when Peter turned Scott?
Derek: A lot older than you. Stop stalling and go do your homework.
Isaac: How old were you, really?
Stiles: (The only one that knows Derek's actual age after looking through police reports, besides Peter) Dude, this is about to be good. Someone get me some popcorn.
Boyd: Let the kid do his homework.
Erica: (Already texting Stiles and he only gave her a smirk in answer) You know, I think Eli would love to hear about that time we lost him in the woods for three hours.
Derek: (Gritting his teeth together but too tired to even argue) Fine.
Derek: (Rubbing his forehead as they all stare at him and Stiles has an annoying fun glint on his eyes) I was...
Erica: Just spill out, old man.
Derek: I was nineteen.
The whole pack: *silence*
Erica: We should not have been listening to your ass.
for the longest time, the running joke amongst the pack was that Stiles was pack mom. it was funny the first few times, then Stiles started to question it, and then he stopped questioning it. fully accepted when Erica would barge in calling him “mama” or Isaac warning the pack to behave accordingly or else, “mom will get mad.”
Stiles probably wouldn’t have labeled himself as “pack mom” or “mom” in general, but he gets it. he recognizes how he talks to the betas, how he sometimes dotes on them, protects and looks after them. he truly can’t blame them.
when Eli came around, Stiles was given the title, “poppy” by the toddler. not “papa,” “dada,” “dad,” or “daddy”; not without trying. Derek was automatically “daddy” and Stiles didn’t mind “poppy” at all. although, a few “mama” or “mommy” had slipped out.
he didn’t know why it surprised him the first couple times it happened. should have been used to it by the pack calling him “mom” often but maybe it was because it felt different? maybe because Eli is a child. Stiles had practically been adopted by Eli, not the other way around. and more than anything, Stiles wanted to earn his place in eli’s heart, prove that he could be a loving and reliable parent to the young boy.
so he’d learn to get used to the slip ups, especially when it occurred around others, around eli’s school where teachers and strangers expect the literal definition of a mom and instead see Stiles. he’d wave off their apologies, smile along to their awkward laughs, tell some terrible dad joke to ease the tension.
and at some point, he’d be okay with Eli alternating between “poppy” and “mama”.
but imagine his surprise the first time Eli runs up to him, opening up a handmade card that read “HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY”. little hands that formed an image of flowers inside a pot, tiny fingerprints mimicking petals around a messily painted stem.
Stiles’ eyes welling up as the card is handed to him with eli’s little voice cheerfully saying, “happy mother’s day, poppy! i made this for you!” of course, Stiles knelt down, hugging Eli and telling him how much he loved it.
[and here goes my brain giving nothing the rest of the way :3]
