#femme!sterek

[allourheroes]

I see you mentioned taking requests for System on your last fic! Let me just say you're on of my favorite authors, love your DC stuff, so really happy you're writing the boys. Handful of requests if any catch your fancy... Anything genderswap because I love f/f Sterek but if that's not your cup of tea, superhero AU or anything where Stiles utilizes magic? AU or pack emmisary, anything is cool. Really would love to see anything new from you :)

I just want to say…this message is so sweet and I love it. I’m just going to write something here and hope it turns out for the best. (Aiming for F/F+magic, but feel free to ask for any of those things again.)

Okay! ~500 words.

Stiles had never felt particularly powerful, but when her asthmatic best friend Scott becomes a werewolf and loses all of his health problems, she starts feeling particularly powerless.

Then, they see Derek and Derek is also strong and cool and beautiful and, of course, a werewolf.

Okay. Stiles digs that.

And then there are more werewolves. And hunters. And banshees. And…

Well, Stiles really starts to wonder when her break is going to come. She thinks for a minute that she has something–Scott’s mysterious boss Deaton tells her to be the spark and, you know what? She is! She does it!

It’s awesome.

But then there’s a whole lot of nothing for Stiles. Until she becomes way too powerful in a way that makes her totally powerless at the same time.

It’s horrible.

So Stiles relegates herself to being the boring, powerless human because it’s much safer than wishing for power.

And maybe that’s why she finally gets it.

Derek is back and Derek is worried about her and maybe that’s why Derek says, “You were my anchor when I needed something to keep me sane. I dreamt about you.”

Stiles blinks back the tears that she had been shedding to stare at the woman before her. Because Stiles still considers herself a girl and Derek is certainly not that. “What?”

“I trust you, Stiles,” she says.

And then she touches Stiles’s hand and Stiles feels that spark again. Not like the foxfire that ignited the nogitsune, but the spark like she’d had with the mountain ash.

The spark like magic in her blood that gives her life, not the fire that threatened to consume her.

Her heart rate must spike because Derek pulls her hand back and Stiles can still feel that something that pulses beneath the surface and she chases it.

She leans forward and kisses Derek because it’s fading and maybe if she just–

Stiles ignites.

With a press of her lips to Derek’s, her whole being thrums with that energy and she thinks Derek can feel it, too. Because Derek, hot badass werewolf Derek, is kissing her back.

Derek takes Stiles’s hand and presses it to her chest, over her heart, and Stiles thinks she gets what Derek is trying to do but she’s also thinking about the fact that Derek Hale’s perfect breasts are right there and–she’s seventeen, okay? She can’t help but multitask.

But she can feel the other thing: Derek’s heart beating fast under her palm. And it’s like she can sense Derek’s whole being, surrounded in this aura that she can’t explain.

She pulls back, asks despite her certainty, “Did you feel that?”

Derek laughs. “Yeah, Stiles.” She’s looking at Stiles like Stiles is being an idiot, so Stiles looks down.

She’s… She’s glowing.

“You may be skinny,” Derek says, teasing, “but I don’t think you’re defenseless now. Not anymore.”

“Pfft.” Stiles grins. “Not like I didn’t save your ass every other day anyway.”

Derek raises her eyebrow and Stiles kisses her again before she can change her mind.

[allourheroes]

F/F Sterek - so this is based off an anecdote post somewhere but I am too drunk to find but... girl takes money from dudes to wrote love poems about other girls and boom one day GODDESS LADY OF HER DREAMS appear and she’s at a loss for words

I know exactly what post you’re talking about and I tried to search for it, but I am...very bad at finding things. If/when I (or someone else) finds it, I’ll link. ~500 words.

Send me random prompts.

Stiles has always been good with words. Or, rather, she’s always had a lot of them and she makes it work out.

Her friend Scott is struggling to write something for Allison, the new girl that he has fallen desperately in love with, and Stiles thinks about her horrible poetry phrase when she thought she stood a chance of wooing Lydia. Yeah. Bad. But she thinks she knows better now.

At least, she thinks she knows Scott well enough to come up with a sweet little poem that will tell Allison he’s interested without making him look like a total idiot. Which, Stiles has to admit, sometimes Scott is.

So she watches Allison, listens to Scott’s incessant mooning and writes something. She tweaks it a little and then she gives it to him. “Here,” she says.

Scott reads it over, confused at first, but then it clicks and his face breaks into that big, goofy grin and Stiles rolls her eyes happily.

Then, she hears Greenberg complaining about how this girl in his algebra class won’t give him the time of day--and, really, who would?--and so Stiles tells him, “Ten bucks.”

She writes another poem and she’s ten dollars richer and word starts getting around.

Stiles does it again and then again and then Jackson freaking Whittemore is asking her to write a poem for Lydia and offering her twice her standard fee (because, yeah, she has a standard fee now) and she rifles through old notebooks and files until she finds something horribly cheesy she already wrote for Lydia and tosses it his way. After he pays her, of course.

So, yeah, Stiles is the girl with the words. She gets to spend all day staring at other girls and writing poems about them and it’s awesome.

She and Scott (and Allison! Because they totally work somehow!) are hanging out at the Preserve since they’re teenagers with nothing better to do when this woman seems to appear out of nowhere. It takes Stiles a few whacks before she actually makes contact with Scott to get his attention but eventually he looks.

“This is private property,” the woman says and Stiles recognizes her because she remembers way too many things.

“Sorry!” Scott is quick to apologize and, although the woman glares, she accepts their retreat.

“That was Derek Hale,” Stiles squeaks as soon as they’re a few yards away.

“Who?”

“Derek Hale. Her whole family died in a fire six years ago. Derek. Hale.”

“You okay, dude?”

Stiles shakes her head because she is seriously not okay. She’s seen the face of God, who is an intimidating woman who hangs out in the woods, and she wants to write sonnets but she can’t think of a single word despite that wonderful description.

“Damn it,” she murmurs, and Scott nudges her in question. “I wasted all of my words on you losers and now I don’t have any for myself.”

“Harsh.”

Stiles sighs. “I gotta go home.”

Scott and Allison glance at each other, then back to Stiles. “Why?” Scott asks.

“I gotta read the dictionary,” Stiles says, and she means it.