#god!stiles

[imagine-sterek]

@capturemymystery​: I like stiles as Hermes. Quick and always moving

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

The Flower That Blooms in Adversity - Chapter Six

Derek sat on the small chair by the couch, leaning forward as he rested his head in his hands.

The thundering boom announced her presence as Allison stepped forward, her eyes darkened with sorrow and her expression twisted by fear and pity. She drew in short breaths, trying to fight her tears. “His father…”

“It’s okay,” Derek said quietly. “You don’t have to say it. I know.”

Stiles straightened, looking from Allison to Derek. “What’s going on?”

Allison swallowed hard. “Your father has waged war against the Underworld.”

Stiles’ eyes flew open wide. “What?” he gasped. “No, he can’t…”

“He can,” Derek said quietly. “And he has.”

He rose from his seat, slowly walking towards the door.

“You’re going to fight him?” Stiles rasped, torn between the two.

“No,” Derek admitted. “I take full responsibility for the decisions that have led to this. I go willingly, alone, and without resistance.”

“You can’t,” Stiles started, fighting back tears.

“I must,” Derek replied.

“No,” Stiles muttered, shaking his head. “No, no, no.”

He met Stiles’ gaze, his aventurine eyes swirling with emotion as he said, “I am willing to die if it means that you are safe.”

He didn’t grab his cape, nor draw the shadows into armour. He wore only his clothes as the large doors opened and he made his way through the dark tunnel. He held his head high, ignoring the sound of Stiles’ cries as they trailed through the shadows, crying out for him.

Tears of rage fell down Stiles’ cheeks. He staggered to his feet, stumbling over to the fire side. He reached for the small plant that grew there, plucking the red and green apple that hung from the branch. He lifted himself onto his feet, his legs pedalling beneath him as he ran for the tunnel. He collapsed against the cavern walls, the damp earth soaking his shirt. The soft cotton clung to his frail body as he forced himself to keep going, his ankle throbbing in protest. He grimaced, tears streaking down his cheeks as he pushed himself further.

He knew Derek wouldn’t offer a fight; he had to get there before his father killed him.

He dug his bare feet into the earth, forcing himself to sprint as he ran through the seemingly endless darkness. He stumbled and fell to the ground, his hands and knees sinking into the mud. He pushed himself upright, grabbing the apple as he ran.

A glimpse of light broke through the darkness as he sprinted out into the light of day.

Heavy grey clouds filled the sky, rain crashing against the earth and soaking him through. The winds lashed at him as he staggered forward, squinting against the pouring rain. He could make out a lone figure standing at the edge of a field of wheat, showing no resistance to the army that charged towards him.

“Derek,” Stiles gasped.

He pushed himself away from the craggy bluffs of the mountain face, running into the open field. He stumbled past Derek, ignoring the man’s protests as he stood defiantly between Derek and his father’s army.

Stiles slid to a stop, standing tall as the wave of armed forces raced towards him. Horses’ hooves thumped the earth, the pounding beat rolling through Stiles as he stood still.

His heart hammered against his ribs as he kept his gaze focused on the figure at the front; his father.

The advancing army slowed to a halt as John’s eyes fell on his son.

Stiles tightened his grip on the apple, lifting it towards his mouth.

“Stiles, no!” Derek screamed, sprinting towards him.

But he was too slow.

Stiles bit into the apple, letting the bitter juice flood his mouth, the crunchy flesh falling against his tongue.

Derek stumbled to a halt, stopping as he stared at the boy, his eyes wide with shock.

Stiles’ father stepped forward, his face mirroring Derek’s confusion.

“Stiles,” he said, struggling to find his voice. “Why would you…?”

“I’ve made my choice,” Stiles said.

“Stiles, you have no idea what you’ve just done,” Derek rasped.

“I grew this apple myself,” Stiles pointed out. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m putting an end to all of this.” He turned to face his father. “I know you’re trying to protect me, I know you feel bad about what happened to mum, but none of that is Derek’s fault. He has done nothing but protect me. He saved my life.”

John shook his head and muttered, “You’re as stubborn as your mother.”

“I prefer ‘defiant’,” Stiles replied with a smile.

There was a thundering boom as Chris appeared, sparks of electricity dancing over him.

“Argent, please, tell me there’s some way to undo this,” Derek pleaded.

Chris shook his head. “I’m sorry, but the rules are the rules. Stiles is bound to the Underworld.”

“Only partially,” Stiles corrected. He tossed the apple to Chris. “It was grown in the Underworld but with heavenly magic, making it an amalgamation of the two Worlds. Which means I can roam both, as long as I split my time evenly between the two.”

Chris couldn’t help but smile with pride.

“He’s right,” he announced. He turned his clear eyes to John. “Your son is a smart man.”

“Something else I get from my mother,” Stiles said, a mischievous smile lifting the corners of his lips as he winked in his father’s direction. He turned and reached for a stalk of wheat. “That, among other things.”

He felt his power flow through him, his eyes glowing as streams of golden light seeped into the ground. The wilting crops flourished, filling the fields with golden wheat. The open stretches of grass burst to life, bursts of colour spread across the lush green as the wild flowers bloomed. The leaves returned to the trees, lush fruit hanging from the branches.

Stiles let out a weak sigh, his eyes fading to their natural hue.

His body weakened as he fell back into Derek’s strong arms.

The man steadied him as Stiles tried to regain his senses.

Stiles looked up at Chris, watching as a kind smile spread across the man’s weary face.

“Stiles Stilinski; God of Spring,” he paused for a second before adding, “and King of the Underworld.”

[AO3] - [Ko-fi] - [PayPal]

[bitacrytic]

Ecstasy

I just deleted a whole smut scene from a fic that I’m working on and it just occurred to me that it didn’t need to go to waste. So I’m uploading it here as a stand alone sterek :D

Derek realized he had not eaten the whole day as he lay there, in bed with Stiles. He figured he would wait till the god slept off, then he would make his way to the kitchen to scrape up something to fill his human stomach.

But as it stood between them, Stiles did not seem very eager to fall asleep. If anything, he lay there in Derek’s arms, holding on tightly with one hand as he stroked up and down Derek’s arm, as if lost in thought. Derek did not know what more he could do to take away the hurt that he knew Stiles was feeling. He could not begin to fathom the inner workings of a deity, but if this one had deemed Derek worthy, he was going to make damn sure that he was worthy. If this was what Stiles wanted, Derek was more than willing to give it to him.

Without thinking, he leaned forward and placed a dry kiss on the back of Stiles’ neck and the body in his arms froze for a second.

“Sorry.” Derek said. “I don’t know why I did that.” He said as Stiles turned around, remaining within Derek’s grasp till they were facing each other.

“It’s okay.” Stiles said, resting his hand on Derek’s shoulders. “I don’t mind.”

Derek’s eyebrows rose so high, he was sure they would disappeared into his hairline. He may have been out of the dating pool for long and it was probably years since he so much as looked at a man funny, but Derek was pretty sure that the large, needy eyes currently looking up at him and the hands stroking along his shoulders and down his back, were signs that someone wanted a little more than cuddling.

“Are you sure?” He asked, not bothering with context. Who needed context anyway? Anyone in the room currently thinking of anything but sex at the moment needed to get their head checked.

This time, when he leaned forward, Stiles met him halfway, crushing their lips together in a soft, dragging kiss that had Derek sighing contently. He could not quite put his finger on what was making it feel so good… so right, except for the fact that he was kissing a god. That had to count for something, right? There had to be a reason why Stiles was sucking on his lips and licking into him with such fervor that Derek could not remember a time in his entire life that he had felt so alive.

“I want…” Stiles whispered between breaths and kisses. “I want to suck you.”

Derek laughed, unable to help himself at the crudeness of Stiles’ words.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Okay.” Derek said, nodding as Stiles pushed him over and climbed unto his body, unbuttoning Derek’s trousers and pushing it down as Derek lifted his hips to allow better access. “Don’t hurt yourself.” He said, when Stiles took him by the dick and rubbed, massaging him as he removed him from his pants.

Derek moaned, lifting his legs a little without even thinking about it. When he looked down at Stiles, he was whispering words to Derek’s dick, talking to it, cajoling it like he expected it to give permission.

“It’s okay.” Derek said.

Seconds later, he was banging his head back against the pillow when Stiles took him in his mouth, completely devoid of a gag reflex.

“Oh god!” Derek prayed. “Ayuadame! Help me!” He said.

Once Stiles began to suck, Derek’s eyes fell closed, sinking deeper and deeper into a pit of ecstasy as everything else around him seemed to drown away. He raised his hands, slipping it into Stiles’ hair and thanking the gods, he could hold on to something because he felt like if there was nothing to anchor him; he might never make it back… never find himself again.

He could feel the pressure building in his gut, the longer Stiles sucked and the deeper he seemed to want to go. Derek just wanted more, but he did not know to which extent he could ask. A god was sucking his dick, for god’s sake. What more could he ask for?

As soon as he felt a finger poke at his hole, Derek’s eyes flew open.

“What… what are you doing?” He asked.

But Stiles did not reply, choosing to release Derek’s dick with a loud pop as he sucked on Derek’s balls. His eyes fluttered again, fighting to stay sane from the pleasure he was being given, but someone was playing with his asshole. Derek had been with men in his lifetime, but it had been a while since he let anyone near his hole.

When he felt Stiles’ tongue swipe across it, Derek bolted off the bed, shifting a little as Stiles sat up, looking dazed and disgruntled. Almost as if going down on Derek had been a more pleasurable experience for him than it had been for Derek.

“You can’t.” Derek said, mentally struggling to put his foot down.

“Did I do something wrong?” Stiles asked, his lips glistening with spit and pre-cum. As he spoke, Derek could not get thought out of his head that sucking his dick had done that… had made Stiles’ lips slick and swollen.

“You want… you want to lick me… there?” He asked, unsure of what was going on.

“Do you not do that?” Stiles asked in confusion.

“Why?” Derek asked, equally confused. “You don’t know what’s down there. I may have done things without… cleaning properly.”

“Ah.” Stiles said, nodding as if he finally understood. He held his hand up as towel materialized in his palm, hanging with the weight of wetness. “Lie down.” Stiles said and Derek obeyed, wondering what was going on. “I understand that you may be uncomfortable letting someone see you down there if you are not… clean. I wouldn’t mind. It’s all a part of your body anyway.”

“Eww.” Derek said, droping his head in the pillows and feeling his dick grow more and more limp. They were referencing shit and poop and there was nothing less sexy than talking about shit and poop when sex was on the table.

“Spread your legs.” Stiles said as Derek looked at him suspiciously. “I want to wipe you.”

Derek looked at the towel.

“I’m not a kid.”

“I want to suck you and you won’t let me if you think you are unclean.”

Well! That was not Derek’s only concern but he spread his legs anyway.

He moved when Stiles lifted one leg and tried to turn him around till he was finally on his belly. And then he dragged Derek back, keeping him in a semi-kneeling position as a pillow was slid under him.

He felt so exposed, just lying there. He had only ever bottomed once in his life and that was his first and last time. He had been a sophomore High School and the Student Body President had followed him around, buying him gifts, showering him favors and making all sorts of promises. By the time they finally got some privacy, Derek had regretted everything when the much larger boy was pressing his dick into Derek and everything had hurt.

He did not cry though. At least, Derek does not remember ever crying that day. But after that, he never bottomed again. If he so much as looked at a man, he was sure no one would have any business with his asshole, for any reason.

Until now.

Stiles spread his cheeks and wiped at his asshole with the wet cloth, causing a shiver up and down Derek’s body.

“Relax.” Stiles told him from behind, leaning over him as he wiped again and again, massaging Derek’s cheeks with his free hand till Derek was a little more relaxed in his hands. Just as he started getting used to it again, Stiles continued from where he stopped, opening Derek up and licking up and down his hole with fervor and devotion.

“Auw!” Derek mewled, unable to control his twitching. It tickled, but more than that, his dick was excited by it. It felt strange to have someone playing with his ass, but at the same time, it also felt pleasurable. When the first finger slipped in, Derek clenched around it, reaching behind to hold unto to Stiles’ hair once again. “Please.” He begged, not sure what he was begging for. He wanted Stiles to continue, but he was too confused to know what else he wanted.

“Easy.” Stiles urged, putting his lips back there as he licked and prodded at it, still massaging away at his ass. “I’ll make you feel good.”

“I feel so good.” Derek promised him as a second finger slipped it and he groaned, burying his face in his sheets, unable to fathom how much he had been missing for years. It had taken him a while to learn that anal sex was not just done by sticking a dick in a hole, but there were such things as preparation and lubrication and making sure the person was ready for you.

He had learned to do that, mostly because he wanted his partners as satisfied as he was, by the end of the encounter. But he had never known the bottoms had it this good. As the third finger joined the other two, Derek pulled himself up to his knees, giving Stiles a better view and more access. He could feel his body loosening up and opening, getting freer down there. He did not want to be so empty anymore.

“Estoi listo. I’m ready.” He told Stiles, tapping him on the head as he ground his ass back into Stiles’ face, seeking his tongue… wanting Stiles to give him everything. “Get it… fuck me, my god.”

Before he could issue another plea, he felt the tip of Stiles’ dick press into him just a little as his body quivered again, trying to accept the pressure. When he nodded into the bed and tapped Stiles again, he pushed even further into Derek.

“FUCK!” he cussed, throwing his head back as he pushed himself up and knelt, with Stiles plastering himself across Derek’s back. “Do it. I can take it.” He said as Stiles began to move, holding him by the hips and rocking into him slowly and dragging it out as he hit a spot in Derek that took his breath away for a second. He gasped, unsure what was happening.

“Just relax. It’s just a love spot.” Stiles explained as if Derek was virgin who had no idea what a prostate was. He knew how the male body worked. He had touched other people’s… love spots. He just never knew it would feel this way. Wrapping his hands around his dick, he arched at Stiles as the god groaned behind him.

“I’m good.” He moaned when Stiles continued to move, rocking faster, gripping Derek tight as he fell back to the bed, unable to take the pressure to his knees, but unable to ask for it to stop. It could not, should not stop. Not until forever. The added pleasure of Stiles’ dick behind him and Derek’s hands, tugging at his own dick felt too good to be true. Derek was ready to spend his life on his knees, getting fucked by a god. “Oh god!” He said out loud. “ARGH!” He yelled, coming as he spilled his cum unto the pillow beneath him, clenching so tight that he thought his asshole would squeeze Stiles’ dick right off.

Stiles held him in his hands, letting Derek shudder the orgasm from his body for what felt like hours. He could not think. He could not feel. All he knew in that moment was that his dick could not stop releasing.

When he finally collapsed unto the bed, limp and unable to move, Stiles picked up the pace behind him, using him, fucking into him to hard that whatever shivers of pleasure was left in Derek was jerking out of him.  By the time Stiles was coming, empting into him, Derek was screaming again, unable to stop the words coming out of his mouth. At some point, he was very sure he was praying in Spanish to a Polish god. And he did not care. He just lay there, pouring his heart out in praise and worship to the man… the god who had just fucked his brains out of his skull.

[buticanstilldream]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale Additional Tags: Stiles Stilinski is a God, Alternate Universe - Canon, Stiles Stilinski Saves The Hales, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Paganism, Memory Alteration, canon character death Summary:

When the Hales are trapped in a house fire, Peter prays to every deity he's ever read about. Miraculously, one answers his call.

[eternalsterekrecs]

Hey guys! You listed a fic called "Hell to Raise" where Stiles is essentially tied to a god. Do you have any other fics where Stiles is related to/tied to/a priest of any kind of deity? The tags list it as magical Stiles. It's a trope j found I love and want more of! Thank you!!

STILES IS CONNECTED TO A GOD

Through Veiled Eyes by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“Lay with me,” Stiles plainly stated, as if he asked a menial thing of him.

Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles, observing him carefully as he kept his features stoically guarded. “To touch you is sacrilege,” he finally uttered, unable to completely deny his desire to discover what touching Stiles would be like.

“What they force me to do is sacrilege,” Stiles countered, carefully observing Derek. “What you would do would be divine. You would keep me from being their plaything—taking a key player off the board in their pursuit of corruption. What I’ve asked of you … I’ve already seen it—the phantom touch of it lingering on me afterwards.”

How many tides (must a man weigh) by ElisAttack

Love, we drink fresh water to survive, magic drinks salt water to live.

Or the one where Derek is a Pictish Chief’s son in a forbidden relationship with his tribe’s Druid.

STILES IS A GOD

Only Human by Jenetica

"This is just what Derek doesn’t need right now. He has an omnipotent, omniscient being panting after him, while his sister and the rest of Starfleet Command are breathing down his neck, waiting for him to make a mistake. No. He can’t handle this, not right now. 'Just… no.'"

Stiles is a lovestruck Q, and Derek is the poor schmuck that caught his eye.

Death and Life and Love be One (series) by demonicweirdo

Every living thing in the store was reacting to Stiles, including Derek. He suppressed the urge to brush up against him, to touch his hand, to lean into him.

The Longing Of Rebirth by MelodramaticSalad

The role that Derek played was guardian to the underworld, a place that chilled one to the bone at the simple thought of it. For the most part, he lived there alone with the souls of those that had passed to keep him company. The work was always busy and always thankless, colder than the ground one was buried in.

He longed for the warmth of the sun, for springtime when the flowers bloomed. Was his role a mistake? He'd always wondered if he was cursed and if this was how things would always be.

Stiles grew bored of the spring, of the flowers, of the pollen that would cover everything in a yellow dust. He'd tired of the monotony of the same old pattern; pollinate, bloom, harvest. Over and over again it had turned and turned. What truly fascinated him was when the flowers would wither and petals would fall from their stems.

He had a morbid fascination with death, with the destruction of everything so perfect. Perhaps that was what had drawn him to the gateway in the first place.

bring on the thunder by starcrossed

His eyes must've been betraying him because Stiles was pretty sure it was Hades, you know, god of the Underworld, sitting in his living room. Oh, did he mention the huge flying bats with fiery eyes at the front door and the chariot with fire-breathing horses in the backyard? Yeah, this was his life.

[the-locked-chussy]

In a trade to save the two people he loves most Derek offers up something that may be worth a whole lot more. How does one make the best of a bad situation?

[peachblossom-odyssey]

I think it would be really cool if Stiles was a god. Like a literal, eternal, I've-lived-for-millennia, god. Some pros include: Not being able to think of a good present for Derek so he literally plucks a star out of the sky, shrinks it, and puts it on a necklace Stopping time so he can have alone time with Derek Scaring the shit out of Scotts enemies Literally blinking enemy packs out of existence Recounting stories of ancient Greece and Rome. Flying Being able to enhance his beauty to make himself completely irresistible Shape shifting into animals Turning annoying people into plants The inevitable "Stiles you can't rain fire from the sky just because someone punched Scott" talk His fury would be awe inspiring. People would be terrified of inciting his wrath. Losing his temper and accidentally causing a plague or something. Being sad because his time with Scott and Derek and the others will be way too short. A mere blink by his reckoning. He could put his dead friends in the sky as constellations. Hating a particular city because they refused to worship him back in the day. Cursing a family line. Summoning a galaxy in his hands to cheer up Lydia.