So, I had hoped that this would be finished in time for the fairy tale day of Sterek Week, but alas, it is not. So I will be finishing this tomorrow, but here’s a little preview of my (probably only?) contribution to Sterek Week.
*****
This is the story of Little Red, and his Big Bad Wolf, and how they saved the life of Red’s mother.
When Red, known to his loved ones as Stiles, was on the edge between boyhood and manhood, his mother became very ill, very suddenly. Though he was still young enough to enjoy games played with a bat and a ball, and to enjoy playing battle games with his best friend Scott, Stiles was old enough to understand the seriousness of his mother’s illness. Old enough to be afraid for her. Old enough to take it upon himself to research cures and causes, to learn all he could.
Stiles and his father tried all the local medicine men and medicine women, all the local healers, and still, his mother, Claudia, remained ill. Some could help her body, some could help her mind, but none could cure her. As the days became weeks, became months, Stiles and his father grew weary and consumed with fear for his mother’s health.
One day, Claudia seemed to rally. She woke lucid and eager to see her son and her husband; Stiles and his father thought that a miracle had come at last. When the sun set that evening, Claudia drifted to sleep, and Stiles and his father took their evening meal feeling lighter than they had in almost a year. They even laughed together, a sound which hadn’t been heard in the household for many moons.
In the morning, she was still asleep, and though she breathed evenly, Stiles and his father were unable to wake her. They were devastated.
Stiles’ father, John spiraled into a deep depression, and Stiles fell into research. Soon, he discovered a sorcerer of sorts who lived in town. The man's name was Deaton, and Stiles wrote to him immediately.
(My attempt at a fairy tale for day 3. Thank you to @bleep0bleep for the beta read!)
Once upon a time, there was a little village in the middle of a deep, dark wood. It was a quiet village, and the people there were happy, except for one small thing.
A monster prowled the woods, a wolf (a cursed wolf, some said) who never let anybody pass down the path out of the woods. Many had tried, but they'd all come back defeated (and some had never come back at all).
A young man called Stiles lived in this village. His mother had died when he was just a boy, and he and his father lived alone. But they were not lonely; they had each other.
Then one day, Stiles's father grew horribly ill. Stiles immediately went for the village doctor, but she sadly informed him there was nothing she could do.
"My brother lives in the village outside the woods," she told him. "He would be able to help you, but no one can get past the wolf."
"I will," Stiles said.
His father begged him not to go, not to dare the wolf, but Stiles packed his things and hugged his father tight. "I will bring back the medicine, and you will get better," Stiles said. And then he went into the woods.
Stiles had never ventured further than he'd needed to go to hunt small game, but now he walked farther down the path than he ever had before. He caught two rabbits and a quail, hoping to trade them to the doctor for medicine.
Then, something jumped out of the woods onto the path.
It was a huge black wolf that stood on its hind legs. Instead of paws, it had massive clawed hands that could tear through skin like a knife through butter.
Stiles froze.
"Where are you going?" the wolf growled.
Stiles was quite surprised, because no one had ever said that the wolf could speak. He gathered his courage and said, "I'm going to the village outside the woods to find medicine. My father is very ill."
The wolf sat on its haunches. "The woods are very dangerous."
Stiles straightened. "My father is the only family I have left. I will brave any danger to help him. Please, let me pass."
The wolf regarded him for a moment, and then stepped off the path. "Be careful, and travel only during the day," it warned him. "Otherwise you will not make it out of the forest."
And then the wolf vanished back into the trees.
Stiles waited, but heard nothing but the sound of the wind in the leaves. So he went on his way. He listened to the wolf's advice, and traveled only during the daylight, and made it down the path with no trouble whatsoever. He collected the medicine from the doctor's brother (who was quite surprised he had made it through the woods) and started his journey back at first light.
Stiles paused at the stretch of the path where he had seen the wolf before, but there was no one else there.
"Thank you for letting me pass, Mr. Wolf," he said to the forest, and left a rabbit on the path before hurrying back to his village.
***
Stiles returned to the village with the medicine and told the others what he had seen. Few believed that he had made it all the way to the edge of the woods, and fewer still believed that he had seen the wolf.
But his father believed him, as did his best friend, Scott, and that was all Stiles needed.
The days went on and grew shorter and colder, and soon it was winter, the harshest winter the village had ever seen. Their food stores shrank, and it became clear not everyone would make it to spring.
Some were frightened. Some were resigned. But Stiles packed his things and braved the woods.
"Be careful," his father cautioned. "The wolf may be hungry."
"The wolf will not hurt me," Stiles said, and left.
Once again, when he had made it to a certain spot in his journey, the wolf jumped out of the trees and landed in the middle of the snow-covered path.
"Where are you going?" the wolf growled.
"My village has very little food," Stiles said. "We won't survive the winter. I must bring some back."
The wolf sat on its haunches. "You think you can carry enough food to feed an entire village?"
"I must try!" Stiles shouted. "I must get help."
"You will not find it outside the woods," the wolf said. "Go back to your village, and I will bring help to you."
"Can I trust you?" Stiles asked.
"Within three days, you will have what you need," the wolf said. "I give you my word. If I break this promise, you may take my pelt."
Stiles did not want to turn back, but the wolf had let him pass before when his need had been great. This time, he had to trust. "Then I accept your help, Mr. Wolf."
"Hurry back to your village before dark," the wolf said, and darted back into the woods.
***
The first morning after Stiles returned, there were a dozen rabbits piled at the boundary of the village and the forest.
The second morning, there were a half dozen bucks.
The third morning, there were so many ducks and quail and deer that Stiles couldn't count them all.
The villagers cried at the bounty, because they were saved. Some said it was the fairies. Some said it was the gods.
But Stiles took two quail into the forest, to a very particular part of the path, and left them there.
"Thank you for saving us, Mr. Wolf," he said to the trees.
As he ran back to his village, he heard a long, lonely howl behind him.
***
Winter soon loosened its grip, and the forest warmed toward spring. Flowers blossomed, new leaves sprang forth, and the game was once again plentiful. Stiles and Scott spent many days venturing out to trap rabbits and squirrels, and to gather herbs. Before, they had stayed close to the village. But Stiles, emboldened by his interactions with the wolf, led them further and further from the village boundaries.
"But the woods are dangerous!" Scott protested. "The wolf will come for us."
"As long as we are back before dark, it will be fine," Stiles said. "The wolf will not harm us."
But one fine spring day, as they were hunting in the woods, Scott suddenly vanished. Stiles searched for him, and called for him, but could find no trace of him.
Heart in his throat, he raced down the path through the woods, seeking that one spot.
The wolf jumped out in front of him. "Where are you going?"
"My friend," Stiles gasped out. "He's missing in these woods. Please, I have to find him."
The wolf blinked. "You want...my help?"
"Yes!" Stiles shouted. "Please, he's my brother, help me find him."
The wolf walked to him, and sat on his haunches in front of Stiles. "Go back to the village, and I will find him."
Stiles shook his head. "No. I am going with you."
"It's dangerous," the wolf said.
"I don't care!" Stiles clenched his fists. "It was my fault we were so far out, it's my fault he was taken. I can't stay behind and wait!"
The wolf regarded him for a long moment, and then crouched on all fours. "Then let me carry you, and we will find him together."
Stiles buried his fingers in the wolf's thick fur and hoisted himself on its back, and the wolf took off through the woods.
The wolf ran faster than Stiles could ever have gone, and soon they were so deep in the forest, Stiles wasn't sure he could find his way out again.
They rode through the woods until they came to a dark cave.
"Your friend's scent is inside this cave," the wolf said. "But be careful. There is another wolf in these woods, and he is not kind."
"I am not afraid," Stiles said. "You're here with me."
He ran into the cave, and just as the wolf had said, Scott was inside, hurt but alive.
"Stiles!" Scott cried. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to find you," Stiles said. "The wolf helped me."
"The wolf?!" Scott said.
Just then, they heard the most tremendous noise from outside the cave. Stiles ran outside, and found his wolf locked in combat with another--a vicious monster, with patchy fur and a terrifying row of fangs.
Without a thought for his own safety, Stiles grabbed up a rock and threw it, striking the other wolf in the head. The wolf howled, and his wolf tackled it to the ground and ripped out its throat.
Stiles ran to his wolf. "Are you hurt?"
The wolf nudged his arm. "I will be fine. Please, get your friend and I will take you to your village."
"It is dark and you're hurt," Stiles protested. "Let's stay in the cave tonight, and we can go back when it's light."
The wolf grumbled a bit, but followed Stiles into the cave and settled down on the ground.
Before he fell asleep, Stiles gave him a hug. "Thank you for saving my friend, Mr. Wolf," he whispered, and fell asleep curled up beside him.
***
They returned safely to the village, and Scott and Stiles told everyone what had happened. Some believed him, some did not, but Stiles only cared about his wolf. Spring moved on into summer, and the forest seemed quieter, happier.
Stiles had no reason to go down the path into the woods anymore, no reason to go looking for his wolf, except one.
So one day he set out from the village, down the path through the woods, until he reached a very particular spot on the trail.
The large black wolf padded out from the trees and sat in front of him. "Where are you going?" it asked.
"Nowhere," Stiles said. "I came to see you."
"Why?" the wolf asked.
"I had something to give you," Stiles said.
"And what is that?"
Stiles took a deep breath and gave the wolf a kiss on the corner of his snout.
Suddenly, the wolf transformed, and before him there was no longer a wolf, but a man with dark hair and pale eyes.
Before Stiles could move, the man grabbed his hands earnestly. "Thank you for breaking the curse!"
"Curse?" Stiles repeated.
"My uncle offended an enchantress," the man said. "She was going to kill him, but I begged her to show mercy, since he was my only family. So instead, she transformed us both into monsters that showed our true hearts. She told me that because my intentions had only been to protect my family, my curse would be lifted if I ever met my true love."
"Your uncle," Stiles said. "Was he the wolf who took Scott?"
The man lowered his head and nodded.
Stiles stepped closer and squeezed his hands. "And your true love...is me?"
At that, the man raised his head, his pale eyes swimming with tears. "You are the only one who spoke to me, the only one to seek me out. I just wanted to keep the village safe from my uncle."
Stiles let go of the man's hands, but only to cup his cheeks and kiss him again. "I was starting to think of you as my wolf," he whispered.
The man laughed softly and brought his hands up to cover Stiles's. "I can still be yours, if you want that."
"I would like that," Stiles admitted. "But I would like to know your name, as well."
The man smiled, and it was like the sun rising. "My name is Derek."
***
Stiles and Derek moved into their own little cottage at the border of the village and the woods, close enough that they could visit Stiles's father twice a week for dinner and far enough into the woods that they could protect the village from any dangers.
The village is still in the middle of the deep, dark wood, but now the villagers travel freely, knowing a wolf (a no longer cursed wolf, they said) and his mate protect the path.
And Stiles and Derek lived happily ever after, until the end of their days.
Day Three of Sterekweek! One of the prompts for today was “fairy tales” and the hardest part was choosing which fairy tale I wanted to Sterekify (I've got LISTS)! I eventually went with Dornröschen (Sleeping Beauty) and - killing two birds with one stone - decided to finally fill another one of the prompts from my kiss meme: “Running their thumb over the other’s lips” (here’s the rest of the kiss fics).
The result is 2.1k of fairy tales within fairy tales, roses, and kisses! Enjoy!
Stiles had grown up with the story. His mum used to tell it to him almost every night, whispering it to him under the cover of his blanket, the words always the same:
Once upon a time there lived a king and a queen who desperately wished for a son. They already had a beautiful daughter, the crown princess Laura, who filled their life with laughter and joy. But they dreamed of a little boy with big ears and teeth for Laura to play with, who’d complete their little family and bring the whole country happiness. As the queen went for a stroll through the woods one day, she met a she-wolf, who told her that before the year was through, she’d bear a son.
It came as the wolf had promised - the queen fell pregnant and bore a son. To celebrate his birth, the king and queen had a huge celebration, inviting the entire kingdom. In their realm lived also thirteen wise women, who would be giving the prince their blessings and good wishes at the feast. But the palace only had twelve golden plates, so they could only invite twelve wise women.
The night of the celebration, the wise women came forward one after the other to bless the child: the first gave him a good heart, the second beauty, the third riches, the fourth a sharp mind, the fifth a talent for the tongues of the world, and so on until eleven had spoken their blessing. Before the twelfth wise woman could step forward, the doors of the great hall flew open with an enormous bang and in strode the thirteenth wise woman who had not been invited. Mighty she was and enraged, cursing the prince to die on his sixteenth birthday by the hand of the woman he loved. No pleas and promises could move her and she disappeared again, leaving behind terror and dismay. But the twelfth wise woman stepped forward and said: “I cannot remove her curse, but I can use my blessing to lighten his burden. Instead of dying he shall sleep until true love’s kiss draws him back to life.”
The king and queen were much relieved, but determined to protect their son from even the slightest hurt. So they ordered that no woman other than his mother and his sister may approach him, thinking that he’d be safe that way. But Derek was an adventurous boy, always out riding with his sister or alone. The place that fascinated him most was the forest, where his mother, the queen, had met the she-wolf that prophesied his birth. He spent many an hour in the woods hoping to meet the wolf, but instead he met a beautiful woman, named Kate. She was the first woman other than his mother and sister than he had ever talked to and he was quickly smitten, drawn in by her beauty and wit and the attention that she paid him. Unbeknownst to him, however, was that Kate was the thirteenth wise woman, determined to see her curse fulfilled. She stole his heart and on the night of his sixteenth birthday revealed herself to him, just before she plunged a poisoned knife into his heart. The twelfth wise woman’s blessing worked his magic however, and Derek jumped backwards at the last moment, so that Kate only hit his arm. The poison still entered his body though, so when he collapsed, Kate believed her goal achieved. However, instead of death, only a deep sleep fell on him, because of the twelfth blessing’ protection.
The king and queen and princess Laura were inconsolable at prince Derek’s fate, setting him up in a well-protected tower to keep him safe until his true love’s kiss might wake him again. Messengers were sent out into the kingdom and its neighbouring countries and many a prince and princess pressed their lips to Derek’s waiting ones, but sleep would not let him out of his arms. Tragic struck the kingdom again, however, when Kate realised that her curse had been weakened and that Derek was still alive. Overcome with rage, she took her revenge on the royal family, burning the palace to the ground with the king and queen trapped within and whisking princess Laura away to a place far away, where she was no longer surrounded by woods nature, but stone and glass. Prince Derek lay forgotten in his tower, rose bushes growing high around him, a fragrant wall of flowers and thorns, protecting and adorning him at once. And thus he sleeps still, waiting for his true love to find and wake him.
To this day, Stiles still knows every single word of the story, and how his mum’s voice sounded while telling it, secretive and somewhat sad, but also hopeful. As a child he’d believed it all to be true and felt terribly sorry for poor Derek and his family, wishing he could help him. His first question after his mum fell silent was always: “Do you think I could wake up Derek, mummy? He shouldn’t have to sleep forever.” His mum always smiled and said: “You never know, baby; love walks mysterious ways.” Then his mum died and Stiles lost his belief in fairy tales and magic, discarding the story as just that - a story, made up and without a grain of truth to it.
Tonight’s the night of his sixteenth birthday, though, and Stiles isn’t so sure anymore. It’s the anniversary of the Hale Fire and Stiles cannot stop comparing reality to the tale. He has come to realise that magic is part of the world after all, werewolves and monsters and even wise men and women. Deaton certainly qualifies, as does Ms Morell. Sometimes Stiles even wonders if his mum might have been a little bit magic. He likes to imagine her as the twelfth wise woman of the fairy tale, the one that does everything in her power to save the prince. Derek.
Derek Hale perhaps? It all fits, his parents died in a house fire, for which a woman named Kate was convicted, and his sister Laura moved to New York, a city built of stone and glass. But where is Derek? According to his dad’s files, no one has seen him since even before the fire.
A tower, well protected in the middle of the forest, protected and adorned by roses and thorns.
Stiles can’t put it out of his mind and tonight the call is too strong to resist. He’s going to find out whether his mum’s story is true or not - by trying to find Derek. He’s prepared with a flashlight, a pair of garden gloves and some shears, just in case there really are rose bushes to hack through. He feels as though he should have brought a sword for that, but he’d probably just cut off his own foot with it. So garden shears it is instead. They were his mum’s, and now that he’s thinking about it, he doesn’t know what she used them for - there’ve never been any roses in their garden. ‘Perhaps she cared for the roses protecting Derek,’ a small voice whispers in his head and Stiles grips the shears tighter.
He starts close to the old Hale house, careful to avoid getting too close, though. It’s been in ruins for over a decade now and is not only unsafe, but also completely creepy and giving him the chills. Anyways, if Derek was there, someone would have found him already. Instead, Stiles moves deeper into the preserve, following an almost hidden path that might have just been created by some deer. Something tells him he’s going in the right direction, though, and the theme of tonight is following his instinct and listening to his feelings, so he just keeps going, his flashlight lighting the way in front of him. The path gets more and more overgrown and soon Stiles wishes for, if not a sword, then a machete. By the time it widens into a clearing, Stiles is scratched up and ready to give up. What he finds in front of him chases away all thoughts of turning back, though.
In the middle of the clearing stands a small house - not a tower, sure, but Stiles is sure that this is where Derek Hale sleeps. Everything has been a little less grand than in his mum’s story so far, so it only stands to reason that it’d extend to Derek’s abode, too. At least the rose bushes are truly impressive, covering the whole front of the house and probably the back, too. It seems to be several different roses planted together, tiny white flowers mixed with larger red ones, wicked looking thorns hiding in between. The door luckily is mostly free, just a few branches hanging down across it. Stiles tries brushing them aside, but the thorns are like little barbs, getting caught in his clothes and hair and skin. Tugging one free means getting caught in two new ones, but eventually Stiles breaks through and gets into the house. The door wasn’t locked, but the shiver running down his back makes Stiles guess that some wards have been put upon the house, probably to keep anyone away who means it or Derek harm.
It’s dark in the house, but his flashlight is showing him the way to the dust covered stairs. They creak when Stiles steps on them and he freezes, waiting for some reaction, some indication that someone else is in the house with him. But everything stays silent. Upstairs there’s just a single room, dominated by a huge bed with closed drapings. Stiles hesitantly steps closer. Here the wards appear to be stronger, not even dust has left its mark. The air is at the same time fresh and heavy and Stiles struggles to breathe deeply. Getting closer to the bed is like walking through water, a constant pressure that impedes his movement, increasing with every step he takes. Finally he is close enough to draw back a curtain and cast his first glance at Derek Hale, the prince of his mum’s story. A gasp escapes Stiles because Derek looks nothing like he expected and exactly like he dreamed. His face is slack in sleep, but it does nothing to distract from his beauty. His hair is full and dark, looking devastatingly soft to the touch, matching his beard, which is carefully maintained - again, Stiles suspects magic and is secretly very impressed by the precision at work here. Derek’s nose is straight and has an almost regal slant to it, Stiles thinks slightly hysterically. His lashes fan out darkly above his cheeks and his brows are strong, but somehow fit the rest of his face.
In short, he is unbearably gorgeous and Stiles could stare at him for hours.
Eventually his gaze falls upon Derek’s lips though, and he remembers why he is here. They are pink and slightly chapped and Stiles can’t help thinking about the countless princes and princesses that kissed them in his mum’s story. Surely this can’t have been based on the truth, even if everything else was? Stiles sits down next to Derek on the bed and reaches out towards his face. He first smooths down his hair a little, strokes across his eyebrows and follows the line of his jaw where it’s covered by Derek’s beard. His hair is as soft as it looks and his beard tickles Stiles’ palms. Lastly he runs a thumb slowly over Derek’s lips, learning the shape and feel of them. He lingers on Derek’s bottom lip, fascinated by its fullness and pinkness, and how chapped and unpolished it nevertheless is, compared to the magic worked on the rest of him.
Finally the touch of his fingers are not enough anymore, so Stiles leans slowly forward, half afraid still that this is some elaborate prank, that Derek’s going to sit up any second and laugh at him, but everything remains quiet. His eyes slip shut just before their lips touch and thus Stiles doesn’t see, but only feels Derek wake up. It’s a smooth transition from dreams to reality; Derek doesn’t jump or shout, he just starts slowly kissing back, lips moving more firmly and insistent against Stiles, hands coming up to draw him closer. Stiles eeps when they drag him down too far and he ends up sprawled across Derek. When he dares open his eyes, the first thing he sees are Derek’s eyes, wide and amused, and a multitude of colours that Stiles can’t define.
“Hi,” he stays stupidly, but Derek just smiles at him and replies: “Hey.”
Fairytale sterek! Based on the Swan Princess! I've even wrote a short storyline for this! The Wolf Prince King Stilinski, widowed father of newborn Prince Stiles, and Queen Talia, widowed mother to the young Prince Derek, decide to betrothe their sons to unite their kingdoms. The evil sorceress Kate Argent wants to take over the Hale Kingdom for herself by marrying the Prince. But before she can seduce him the Hale guards attack and banish her from the kingdom, but she vows her revenge. Stilinski and Talia decide that Stiles and Derek should spend every summer together, in hopes of them falling in love. During their younger years this idea has failed miserably. But when they reach adulthood, they do fall in love, and Stiles makes the declaration to get the wedding preparations started. But when it becomes clear he only wishes to marry Derek for his beauty, Derek rejects him. When Talia and Derek leave they are attacked by Kate, who has transformed herself into a “Great Beast”, who then kidnaps Derek and leaves Talia fatally injured. The Hale guards are able to get Talia back to the Stilinski castle, Stiles runs in just in time to hear her say something about the “Great Beast” and Derek is gone. Believing Derek is dead, King Stilinski tries to encourage Stiles to move on, but Stiles refuses to believe his love is dead. He starts to hunt daily in the forest with his best friend Scott to find the “Great Beast” Kate is keeping Derek trapped in an abandoned castle. She casts a spell on Derek to turn him into a wolf during the day, and that by the light of the moon lets him temporarily turn back into a human. She tells him that if he does not return to the castle grounds before the moon and sun rises, he will die. Every night Kate asks Derek to marry her, but he refuses. One day while Kate is away, Derek, in his wolf form, runs into the forest hoping to find Stiles. Stiles is out hunting and comes across Derek's wolf, thinking it's the “Great Beast” and tries to kill him. The chase leads Stiles to the castle, where he witnesses Derek transform back into a human when the moon rises. The two share a lovers reunion and Derek tells Stiles the spell can only be broken by a vow of everlasting love. Stiles wants to declare his love to the whole kingdom, so he invites Derek to his father’s ball the following evening. Kate arrives in secret, hears the whole conversation, and later imprisons Derek in the dungeon. Scared Stiles will ruin her plans, Kate transforms herself into Derek and goes to the ball. Derek manages to break free of the dungeon, and races to the ball to stop Stiles before it's too late, but is unable to get there before Stiles declares his love to Kate. Realising his mistake Stiles races after Derek to the castle, where Derek changes back before dying in Stiles’ arms. Furious, Stiles demands Kate brings Derek back. She transforms into the “Great Beast” and a battle ensues. Stiles manages to fire his arrow into Kate's heart and kills her. Stiles confesses that he loves more than Derek's beauty, he loves his kind heart, his quick wit and caring nature. Derek comes back to life and the spell is broken. And they lived happily ever after. Shout out to the amazing @ladydrace for beta in' this for me! I was so nervous writing this cause I don't do well at writing at all! Dyslexia rules my life!
sterek week (2016 edition) ▷ day 3 : myths and legends → hades & persephone
The myth of Hades and Persephone is one of the well known Greek myths.
In one of the rare times Hades left the Underworld, he saw Persephone,
the god of nature and spring, and instantly fell in love with him.
As he caused the ground to split underneath them, Persephone slipped beneath the Earth and Hades stole him to the Underworld where he made him his husband.
Aayyy, another Sterek Week Entry! Isn't this exciting?
This is written for the Myth and Legends trope, and it's loosely based on Hades/Persephone. I say loosely because it has little to do with that, but it sort of does so ssssssh
Also here on AO3
Title: Your Two Lips and My Two Lips
“Ow, shit,” Stiles mutters as he brings his finger up to his mouth. He almost gags as the metallic taste of blood fills his mouth, but he keeps sucking on it - fucking roses and their thorns. They’re probably his least favorite flowers to grow.
“Roses again?” his dad yells from inside. Stiles hums something affirmative back. It’s not like he’s that predictable, but roses are the bane of his existence. Every time he complains to his dad about them he just smiles and says he’s just like his mom.
“They keep freaking dying even though it’s spring!”
His dad walks out with a Band-Aid and wraps it around his finger. “You know, back in my days we called this pigtail pulling.”
“Pigtail- You think Derek has something to do with this?” Oh my god, Stiles is going to kill him. Derek might be two years older and a whole lot buffer than he is, but if he’s purposefully killing Stiles’ roses for the fun of it he’s actually going to murder the fucker.
“I thought you didn’t like Derek.”
Stiles scrunches up his face because he doesn’t. He’s known Derek since he was like, five, but Derek’s always found a way to get under Stiles’ skin. They even met because Derek was killing some white carnations, touching them just to see their petals wilt. He does not like Derek. “I don’t.”
His dad raises his eyebrows. “Then why did you assume I was talking about Derek when I said ‘pigtail pulling’.”
That - Stiles doesn’t have a good response to that, actually. Damn his dad for ever becoming Sheriff and seeing more than he should. He narrows his eyes. “You sure you’re not a werewolf or something?”
His dad smiles. “Nice deflection.”
“Why can’t you be like a normal dad and turns a blind eye to your teenage son’s escapades,” he whines as he moves on to his peonies. At least they’re blooming like they should. Maybe Derek does have something to do with the roses, goddammit.
He toes off his boots as he walks into the house to avoid trailing dirt. All his clothes are already ruined, but his dad would like it if he didn’t make the carpet dirtier than it already is.
“Stiles, you and Derek have been dancing around each other almost as long you’ve known each other.”
Stiles snorts as he washes the dirt off his hands. The Hales might be Supes too, but it never hurts to look presentable. “We don’t even like each other.”
His dad hands him a towel when he turns the faucet off and he gives him a grateful smile. His dad can be an asshole sometimes - like right now, because really, Derek - but he’s generally a nice person. When he’s not bugging Stiles about his non-existent love life.
“He once gave you a bouquet of pansies, sunflowers and red tulips, Stiles. You know what that means,” Dad says, looking at Stiles with a stern twist to his mouth. Stiles blushes. He remembers that vividly. But that happened - what - five years ago now? Stiles is seventeen now, maybe something’s changed.
“They were dead,” he mutters, hanging the towel back on the rack and walking towards the door. He’s not above running away from conversations he doesn’t want to have yet. Also, he should ask Derek to stop if he’s really the one doing this.
“You know Derek sometimes slips if he’s nervous.”
“Oh my god, I’m so not getting into this,” he murmurs. “I’m going to Derek’s house and politely ask him to stop killing my flowers.”
The last thing he sees before he runs out the house is his dad’s smirk - which, that can’t be good. His dad’s smirk is never a good sign, oh god.
“Use protection!” his dad shouts from inside and Stiles feels himself flushing deep red.
“I can’t hear you!”
-
The Hales live deep into the preserve, even though they’re the most prominent authority figures in Beacon Hills. Stiles thought it was weird until he found out everyone but Derek and Cora were werewolves and well, then things made a little more sense.
Like how Laura’s always on the porch, waiting for him, when Stiles drives up the road to their house.
“Stiles!” she yells as he steps out of his Jeep, pulling him into a suffocating hug. “We haven’t seen you in ages!”
He paws at Laura’s arms because she’s strong and he can’t breathe. “Laura - air.”
“Oh, sorry, man,” she says, letting him go. Stiles takes a few gulps of the sweet, sweet oxygen. “Seriously though, where have you been all this time?”
“I was, uh-” Stiles stops because shit, he can’t lie to a werewolf. “Y’know, it’s spring and all. A descendent of Persephone is kind of busy this time of year.”
Laura’s smirk tells him that didn’t work. Shit. “Of course. So why are you here now?”
And isn’t that the question of the century? He may or may not have been avoiding coming to the Hale House because of the thing between Derek and him and all of the Hales probably know it. Freaking werewolves.
“Uh, I need to talk to Derek?”
Laura waggles her eyebrows. “I’m sure you do.”
Stiles feels his cheeks heat up. God, it’s like everyone thinks they’re going to get together. They’re not. Stiles doesn’t even like Derek.
“Laura,” he says, voice low. “He’s killing my flowers.”
Instead of the anticipated sympathy - or even pity - Laura breaks into a huge grin. It almost looks like her face is going to split apart. “Is he really? Oh my god, Mom is going to want to hear this.”
And then she’s already taking off towards the Hale House - which, rude, but Stiles needs her to tell him where Derek is. He’s learned the hard way that it’s impossible to find Derek if he doesn’t want to be found.
“Laura, wait!” he yells. “Where’s Derek?”
“Moping around in the forest.”
“Thanks!”
-
Stiles finds Derek after some pretty nifty manipulating of flowers, if he does say so himself. Meaning, he asked some ivy to trap Derek and well, here they are: Stiles laughing himself to death and Derek dangling upside down, hands trapped by his sides.
Derek scowls. “Stiles, let me go.”
Stiles tries to stop laughing, he really does, but with Derek’s hair hanging away from his face he just looks ridiculous and Stiles - he can’t.
“Only-” He takes a deep breath. “Only if you promise to stop killing my roses.”
The tips of Derek’s ears flush red and he starts struggling again. Stiles snaps his fingers and the ivy closes tighter around him until Derek’s forced to look at him. Instead, he stares at a spot over Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles smirks. Coward.
“I wasn’t- I wasn’t doing it intentionally.”
Which, that’s totally bullshit. Sure, Derek slips up sometimes - so does Stiles - but not at this big a scale. He’s seen Derek accidentally make fruits ferment and flowers shrivel, and Stiles is known to occasionally grow flowers that represent his feelings, but never like this. He raises his eyebrows. “Oh, so you were subconsciously murdering my flowers from a distance?”
“Not flowers,” Derek mutters. “Roses. I wanted to give them to you.”
“But roses are-” declarations of romantic love. Stiles can’t bring himself to finish it because oh my god. Oh my god. He’s sure he’s stopped breathing.
“Can you let me down now? Please?” Derek says, voice small and vulnerable and Stiles is tempted to hug him forever and wrap him in a blanket. He snaps his fingers again. Derek drops to the ground - gracefully, because even though Derek isn’t a werewolf, he grew up with them - and Stiles can’t even think right now.
“Uh, sorry,” he says as he watches Derek rub his wrists. He breathes in, then out again, and concentrates on letting the right flower bloom. “Here you go.”
He hands it to Derek, heart pounding in his chest. The yellow petals look tiny in Derek’s large hands, and they’re not wilting for once. Instead, Derek’s staring at the flower, mouth open and eyes wide.
“You just gave me a yellow tulip,” Derek says, and Stiles blushes when he hears how breathless Derek sounds. The urge to scratch at the back of his neck is overwhelming, and instead he rubs his hands together and tries not to die. Derek takes a step forward, flower still cradled in his hand like it’s the most important thing in the world.
“Well, I mean, if you don’t want it I can take it back and plant it somewhere safe, I just-”
And then Derek’s kissing him, pressed up against him and licking over his bottom lip before biting on it. He swallows the little gasp Stiles makes, tentatively brushing their tongues together. Stiles’ hands scramble for purchase on Derek’s shoulder, before brushing up to the nape of Derek’s neck, where his hair curls slightly at the end. Derek makes a little appreciative noise when Stiles tugs on it and he pushes them closer together, until there’s no room left.
“You gave me a yellow tulip,” Derek says, voice low when he pulls back and Stiles blushes. Derek’s looking at him with blown pupils, like he wants Stiles. Like he can’t believe this is happening.
“To be fair, you gave me a bouquet of pansies, sunflowers and red tulips. Wilted ones, might I add.”
Derek flushes. “You know I slip up when I get nervous.”
“I know,” Stiles says and then he kisses Derek again.
(And if he and Derek exchange yellow tulips when they get married seven years later, well, that’s no one’s business but theirs.)
A/N:
Flower meanings:
Roses - Romantic love
Pansies - Loving thoughts
Sunflowers - Adoration
Red tulips - Declaration of love
Yellow tulips - Hopelessly in love
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this lil ficlet!!! Lemme know what you thought?
For Sterek Week 2016 Day 3 - Folklore
There’s a little twist on the folklore aspect of this because I love pirates (especially Blackbeard), but I also love a good ghostly mystery.
Derek is a PhD candidate studying American folklore, Stiles is a treasure hunter on a mission to find Blackbeard’s missing treasure.
Their worlds should never have collided, but they do on a secluded beach in Virginia where Stiles has traced Blackbeard’s adventures and some of his treasure and Derek has come to see the spot where the legendary pirate supposedly landed once.
Things take a turn for the weird when a ghostly ship appears in the bay and Stiles’ metal detector starts going crazy just off the beach.
They team up to dig the treasure up and end up on an adventure across the eastern seaboard trying to break Blackbeard’s curse on the treasure, all the while they’re being chased by the spirit of the man himself.
The reluctant partnership turns into something more when Derek discovers Stiles’ intelligence and sense of humor and Stiles discovers Derek’s adventurous spirit and his commitment to discovering the truth behind the legends of American Folklore.
Their adventure ends when they find Blackbeard’s bones in a faintly marked grave in Virginia and his skull left in an weatherworn old pub from colonial times. They burn his bones as Stiles reads an old Caribbean prayer over the fire.
They agree to turn the treasure over to the historical society and claim joint credit. When they go to say goodbye, Stiles kisses Derek instead and asks him to team up with him on his next treasure hunt. There’s suppose to be some treasure hidden in the Bayou in Louisiana and they seem to work pretty well together.
Derek agrees with the caveat that they avoid any more curses. Stiles makes no promises.
That’s how they ended up treed in the swamp with an angry Bayou witch yelling at them to keep out of her business. They do find the treasure though, that’s what counts.
Stiles writes a book about all their adventures, Derek finishes his doctorate and they live out their years chasing legends and treasure. They spend their down time in Williamsburg, Virginia where Derek is a professor and Stiles leads treasure hunts with tourists willing to pay for his expertise.
