Stiles stared at it, eyes wide in anticipation. It was huge! His fingers strained but barely reached all the way around it. It made his hands look tiny. He wanted it. Wanted to taste it, devour it. His tongue flicked out and licked the tip, and again. Before he knew it his mouth had engulfed it, his lips sliding up and down it, tongue dancing across it's surface. He took as much in his mouth as he could, head bobbing to take it deeper. "Stiles just eat the damn banana!" A voice came from the doorway. Stiles closed his eyes enable to look up. He could feel his cheeks flushing. "If you really want to practice I've got something else you can use." Derek said with a raised eyebrow and slight smirk. Stiles smiled forgetting his embarrassment and chased out of the room after Derek.
It’s the third straight night. It might happen again tomorrow night and if it does Derek knows it will most likely stop after that. That has been the pattern since they started. An episode three or four nights in a row and then they will stop just as suddenly as they appeared. They come without warning and at no predictable rate.
But for the few strains of moonlight breaking through the heavy fabric of the curtains the room is dark, it’s always that way. Stiles never wants Derek to see his face when he’s like this. The first time it happened Derek turned on a lamp only for Stiles to frantically rip it from the bedside table and throw against the wall. It was a moment that had scared Derek and it was a side of Stiles he didn’t recognise and one he hopes to never see again.
Derek’s sat up in bed cradling Stiles head in his lap, lovingly stroking his hair, not caring a bit that it’s drenched in sweat. Stiles is laid awake, barely aware of anything other than Derek’s presence, in a state of concentrated sleep avoidance, not wanting to close his eyes for fear of the visions that have haunted him for so long even though he’s exhausted and it hurts to keep his eyes open. The shaking has mostly subsided now. After all this time the nightmares are still so vivid and painful. Stiles has simply come to accept that they are a part of him now, something he will just have to live with for the rest of his life.
Derek looks down at Stiles in the darkness heartbroken at being unable to do anything, he would make any sacrifice to take this pain away from Stiles and even though it’s only for seven or eight nights each year it tears him apart inside to see Stiles suffer so much. In this moment he realises just how brave Stiles is simply for going to sleep at night, knowing that it will lead to this kind of suffering but doing it anyway in the hope that tonight will be the night that the nightmares go away. Derek feels useless, it’s this feeling of utter helplessness that he hates most, the wrenching knowledge that nothing could be done about it now. Time hasn’t healed Stiles, neither has the combined efforts of Derek, Deaton, and the rest of the pack. Derek has spent countless nights trying to find anything that might help but to no avail. So he’ll continue to do what he’s always done. When the nightmares come he’ll lie awake in the darkness while Stiles sleeps, he’ll wait for the nightmare to hit and when it does he’ll wake Stiles before he suffers too much and ends up waking himself screaming. And then he’ll hold him until the sun comes up.
They’ll look at each other at the end of another long tiring night and without exchanging a word manage to convey the depth of their love for each other. Stiles will try, as he always does, to find to the words to explain to Derek the simple concept of just what it means to him that Derek is there for him but as always he won’t be able to do it. Derek will see in his eyes what Stiles is trying to say, he’ll look at him and with a hand caressing Stiles cheek he’ll just say ‘I know’. Eventually they’ll get on with their day. Stiles will feel guilty about having kept Derek up all night so he’ll insist on taking care of him through the day and he’ll make dinner to try make up for it. Derek will tell him he doesn’t need to do anything but he’ll let Stiles do it anyway because he knows it’ll make him feel better. And at the end of the day they’ll go to bed again hoping that this episode will be the last, knowing it won’t be but both knowing that when it happens again they’ll have each other to get them through it.
I hope whatever life you get it’s enough for you. And it makes you happy.~ Iris West to Barry Allen before he runs back in time to save his mother in the s1 finale.
I’ve been really bad at Sterek Week this time, sorry guys. I just blanked on this one xox.
Sterek Week ‘15 // Scene Stealer
Inspired by this scene between Harry and Ginny from Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince.
Derek stared at the old, worn book lying on the wooden chest in front of him. It was the second-hand copy of Advanced Potion-Making that he discovered in Potions class at the start of the year. It seemed like the greatest find at first, the previous owner having left so many scribbled notes in the margins that Derek felt he would be a fool not to take advantage of them, and he did. At first everything went swimmingly. His grades went up, despite everything else going on, and he was even besting Lydia in class when it came to potion-making. But, as with almost everything else in Derek's life, things got out of hand.
It all came to a head when he confronted Jackson Whittemore in one of the boys' bathrooms. Derek had been keeping a close eye on Jackson all year, and he knew Jackson was the one who hexed Tracy Stewart outside Hogsmeade; he just had to get him to admit it. But the moment Derek confronted Jackson about it, he responded by casting a jinx in Derek's direction and a duel between the two broke out. Taking advantage of a moment when he caught Jackson dropping his guard, Derek attacked him with Sectum Sempra, a spell he'd learned from the potions book. Only Derek didn't know what it would do, and it would have killed Jackson if Professor Deaton hadn't found them.
Derek was still shaken from the experience. As much as he hated Jackson, he wasn't quite ready to wish him dead, nevermind kill him himself.
While Derek stared at the book, Stiles came to sit down next to him on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. "You have to get rid of it," he said quietly. "Today."
Derek nodded silently, not saying a word. He reluctantly took the book as Stiles stood up and Derek followed him out of the tower. He didn't pay attention to their surroundings as they climbed up everchanging staircases and walked down meandering corridors until finally Stiles stopped. The corridor came to an end and in front of them was a tapestry of a unicorn that Derek knew he'd seen before.
"Take my hand," Stiles said and reached out to Derek, his fingers waiting expectantly.
Derek looked hesitantly at Stiles' outstretched hand, then slowly took it in his. Stiles looked encouragingly at Derek as he stepped forward and lifted the tapestry, revealing behind it a door that swung heavily open.
"The Room of Requirement," Derek said as Stiles led him inside.
The room was filled to the brim as far as he could see with chairs and books and tables, all stacked haphazardly on top of each other. It was in stark contrast to the tidy state they'd found it in the year before.
"We need to hide the book where no one will ever find it," Stiles said as he pointed to the Potions text in Derek's hand. "Including you."
They walked deeper into the room, searching for a hiding place but also curiously studying the things that had been crowded into the space around them. There was an eeriness to the Room of Requirement that was compounded by the dim lighting and occasional strange noises that echoed through the maze of discarded objects.
"What was that?" they said at the same time, turning to each other as they heard what sounded almost like muffled, fluttering wings.
They heard it again and Derek followed the sound to a tall, angular cupboard made out of dark wood. The fluttering sound came from inside and Derek reached out to open it. Startled, they both stepped back as a small bird flew out of it and perched itself on a nearby bookcase, twittering sharply.
"See? You never know what you'll find up here," Stiles said and looked at Derek. He stepped closer and held Derek's gaze, reaching out to take the book from his hand. "All right, close your eyes. That way you can't be tempted."
Derek kept looking at Stiles, the hopelessness that had been in them now replaced by something else, a mixture of gratitude and relief.
"Close your eyes," Stiles whispered as he walked slowly backward until Derek finally obeyed.
His eyes shut, Derek waited, his ears picking up the faint sounds of Stiles's footfalls. He heard the bird again, the beating of its wings growing fainter as it flew away from them. He heard nothing more and sighed. For a brief moment, everything seemed calm. Everything seemed peaceful and he wished it could stay that way, that he could stay hidden in the Room of Requirement like the book that had caused him so much trouble.
Then suddenly Stiles was in front of him again. He could feel the other boy's face close to his and smell the faint, familiar scent of peppermint on his breath. Their lips touched and Derek felt a tingle pass through him. His body relaxed and the kiss took all of the tension out of him. He held his breath, not daring to move for fear of dispelling the moment. It felt fragile and beautiful, like a dream that would be gone the moment he opened his eyes.
"That can stay hidden up here too if you'd like," Stiles said as he pulled back, his hand gliding down to take the place between Derek's fingers where the book had been.
Derek smiled and slowly opened his eyes, finally breathing deeply. Stiles remained standing in front of him, smiling too.
Written for Sterek Week 2015, Day 5: Scene Stealer
Word Count: 1163 words
AO3 link here
Stiles was confused. And soaked. And far from Andalasia. His wedding suit was sodden, and he just wanted to get back to Prince Edward. He was supposed to live happily ever after right? That’s how it worked. He stood at the top of the strange platform, in the rain, waiting for the castle door to open. Of course it didn’t. Crap. He pounded on the door again.
“Hello! It's me, Stiles, from Andalasia. Hello! Hello!”
He sighed, swaying a little on his feet from exhaustion. This was the worst.
“Is there anybody home? Please open the door.” Stiles shivered. “It's very cold out here.”
Morgan stared out the window of the car while her Daddy talked on the phone. The car stopped at a light, and she gasped as she spied Stiles. He was high up in front of the castle billboard, he had on a golden crown and a special outfit- just like the Princes in the fairy tales. This was the best thing she’d ever seen.
“Daddy, why is there a prince on the castle billboard?
“It's an advertisement. It's a mannequin.”
Her Daddy didn’t even look up, his black hair all damp and his face all grumpy. Daddy’s job made him grumpy, Morgan decided. She frowned. Daddy should realise that she knew a real prince when she saw one.
“He's really there!”
“No, she's not.”
Morgan sighed exasperatedly. She’s just have to prove it to him. Lunging at the door handle, she opened the car and dashed out into the rain.
The sudden noise of the door opening grabbed Derek’s attention. Morgan was gone! His heart rose into his throat- what the hell was she doing, dashing out of the car like that into the dark! He opened the car door.
“What are you doing?”
His daughter ignored him, running to the side of the building. Derek jumped out, furious at her lack of regard of her own safety. The city was dangerous dammit! It was raining, and he was tired and he just wanted to go home.
“Get back in here! Stop! Morgan! Stop!”
Why did he even bother. His daughter was so damn stubborn. She didn’t get it from him. Derek ran after her. She had stopped now and was gazing up, putting her hands to her mouth like a megaphone.
“Hey!” she called. “Prince!”
Derek caught up to her, scared at the ease in which she’d jumped out of the car. Anything could have happened to her.
“Morgan! Don't you ever do that again!”
Morgan grabbed his arm and pointed up to the castle billboard.
“Look! Look!” she said excitedly.
Derek looked. There was a guy up there? The guy turned around to look down at them. He was dressed in funny clothes and a crown and he was soaked. He looked like an escaped Disneyland mascot, Derek snorted.
The guy was knocking on the painted door of the billboard. “Is anybody there? Do you know Edward?”
Derek sighed. He’d have to sort this out, or he’d have to drag Morgan back to the car. He knew what that face of hers meant. He bent down and captured her gaze, trying to sound stern.
“Stay here.” Morgan nodded, grinning. She knew Daddy had it sorted.
“Oh, please be home!”
Derek rolled his eyes. Was the guy drunk?
“Hey!”
The guy jumped, and turned around. He looked miserable, and Derek felt a pang of sympathy. It was a cold night.
“Oh, hello,” the guy said tentatively.
He wavered a little, shivering. He took a step closer to the edge of the platform, his foot slipped and he yelled in surprise as he tumbled off the side, managing to catch the railing. He dangled in the air, gasping.
Derek ran closer, worried. That was a long drop to the ground.
“Hang on!”
Stiles’ hands gripped desperately to the railing, but they were wet, and cold. One hand slipped off and he cried out “Oh!”
Derek sucked in a nervous breath. He checked that Morgan was still clear, and tried to think of how to help. He hovered underneath the guy.
“Don't let go! Wait! Just hang on!”
Stiles’ last hand slipped and he began to fall.
“Catch him, Daddy!” Morgan screamed, and that was all Derek could think of to do.
He held out his arms and braced himself. The guy slammed into them and they both hit the ground.
“Oh!”
“Ow!”
The guy squirmed on top of him, managing to roll off. He leant over Derek, amber-brown eyes wide and worried. Derek couldn’t stop staring at them.
“You OK?”
Derek took a careful breath, tried moving his limbs. “I'm fine.” He looked at Stiles’ pale face. “Are you OK?”
“Derek. What were you doing up there?” Derek asked, trying to keep his tone free of judgement. He failed.
“I was looking for some help,” Stiles replied calmly, like he knocked on billboards and fell off platforms on a normal day.
Derek just stared at him in bewilderment. Stiles smiled, and started babbling.
“You see, I've been wandering very far and long tonight, and I'm afraid nobody's been nice to me.”
Derek huffed in amusement. “Yeah, well, welcome to New York.”
Stiles grinned, his generous mouth crinkling at the corners and his big brown eyes lighting up. “Thank you!”
Derek’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of that smile. He coughed nervously, and checked Morgan was still standing where she was. His daughter was moving towards them and ducked under his arm, her face alight with excitement.
“Right. OK, you sure you're all right?”
Stiles was still smiling at him, his face all soft and pretty. “Oh, yes,” he breathed.
“You need me to call somebody for you?” Derek asked awkwardly. Surely someone would be missing this lovely boy.
Stiles chuckled, as if Derek had said something amusing.
“Well, I don't think they'd hear you from here.”
“What?” Derek’s brow furrowed. He didn’t think Stiles was drunk or on something, but he wasn’t making much sense. Maybe it was the cold and rain.
He shook his head. Where ever Stiles was from, he needed somewhere to get dry, somewhere safe. Morgan was looking at him pleadingly. He sighed in defeat.
“Morgan, show him the way, please.”
Stiles kept babbling as he walked with Morgan to the car, she listened raptly. Derek pretended he wasn’t.
“And then the old hag told me to look into the well and wish for my heart's desire. But I must have looked very far because I fell, down, down, down. And then I climbed out of this big, round hole and I got very lost, until I fell off of the castle. And now here I am with you!”
Derek snorted again. “Is this a big habit of yours? Falling off stuff?”
Stiles smiled at Derek like they were sharing an inside joke. Derek’s heart jumped.
The Man From U.N.C.L.E. AU!Sterek I have been craving for Sterek Week '15 Featuring a not-so-casanova "Cowboy" Stiles from CIA and totally-softy-but-still-dangerous "Peril" Derek, KGB's number 1. Guest starring Erica as Gaby, Deaton as Waverly and Lydia as Victoria Vinciguerra.
(If anyone is willing to write it I'm totally available to talk and share plotbunnies!!!)
--
This is both Alternative Universe and Scene Stealer (just after Napoleon saves Illya from drowning, reminds me of something...) so 2 for 1, yay!
As always, prompts/ideas are welcome :)
[edit: added a colored one that I think looks better]
This is basically a Sterek Omegaverse AU version of the first episode of Kaichou wa Maid-Sama. I’m sorry it’s so late, and I hope that you enjoy it, and I hope that I didn’t miss anything important :)
(AO3)
"What do you think you're wearing?" Stiles managed to ask through his clenched teeth, and the three idiots before him frowned before looking down at their attire. The beta, Matt, was the first one to answer as he shrugged and asked, "What?"
Stiles gestured to their student uniforms, all three of their jackets had telltale rips and claw marks through them, and the bottom halves of their pants were covered with dried mud and, with a subtle sniff, Stiles detected blood as well. He sneered at them as he hissed, "You look like you've already been in two brawls this morning, there is a dress code and you're breaking it. There is also the whole 'no fighting' rule- what, you think that because you're a couple of alphas and a beta you get to break the rules?"
One of the alpha twins, Aiden, Stiles guessed, rolled his eyes and tried to reason, "Who said that we were fighting? Besides, nobody actually cares about those rules, Prez."
Stiles narrowed his eyes at them; he wasn't sure if referring to him as his title of Student Council President was a good thing or a bad thing, but he didn't correct him about that, instead he crossed his arms over his chest and frowned as he said, "Your clothes and scents are evidence enough of the fighting, and as the student council president it is my job to make Beacon Hills High a safe place for all of the students. Come back when your uniforms aren't such messes."
This was the first year that Beacon Hills allowed Omegas to attend its high school, and as the first omega to be the student council president, Stiles knew that he really had to step it up. Most educational facilities still separated omegas from the alphas and betas. The school boards had a variety of excuses, including but not limited to the following:
"It wouldn't be appropriate to allow pubescent, hormonal, alphas and omegas to be in close quarters with one another for so many hours a day." As if they wouldn't be able to control themselves- as if they'd just start ripping off their clothes at the mere presence of a student of another status.
"Omegas aren't fit to witness the kinds of violence and disruptions that are natural to an alpha's environment." As if all alphas only fought, and as if omegas were too weak and faint hearted to even be in the proximity as a dispute.
"Alphas and betas are simply more capable of learning- it wouldn't be fair to hold them back by changing the curriculum so that omegas could keep up." Stiles couldn't even deal with the stupidity levels of that argument- not when BHHS's two brightest students were both omegas.
Many omegas had to be sent across the country to attend large omega-only schools, which was difficult for them. Being transferred to new territory without friends, pack, or territory to call their own was difficult for any were, but especially omegas.
Stiles sighed as he mulled over the topics in his thoughts, but halfway to his locker he felt his ears perk up- a small hiccup and a faint waft of salt made his nose twitch. He knew that scent, and he knew that it meant that somebody was crying.
It wasn't that he was curious (although he was), it was that Stiles felt a need to look out for the omegas in school. When he rounded a couple of corners and discovered the source of sadness Stiles wondered why he didn't see this coming. Two figures stood at the end of the hall, a tall alpha with dark hair and a sharp jawline, and a smaller body whose shoulders were hunched a bit and shuddering as she sniffled. Stiles could feel his lips peeling back as he snarled, "What are you doing, Hale?"
Derek looked up, and instead of empathy, his face was only bored as he tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged, "Just rejecting another mating proposal."
The omega ran past Stiles with her hands over her face, and Stiles wished that he could reach out and hug her into his shoulder, but instead he refocused on Derek again and said, "What have I told you about letting down the omegas nicely?! If I hear about you breaking another omega's heart, I'm going to kick your ass, Hale!"
The corner of Derek's lip twitched up as he mumbled, "Tough little omega."
Stiles bared his teeth once more before stalking away- he had better things to do than lecture Derek Hale.
Stiles continued his day, attended classes, snapped at various alphas and betas who were stirring up trouble, and at the end of the day he fought the urge to bite his vice president's head off as the beta admitted that he hadn't managed to keep their accounting books balanced properly.
He was at school for an hour longer than he would have liked as he rectified the disaster that was their accounting books, and then Stiles had to hurry as he made his way home. He had work in the evening, and there was still homework to be done. He wasn't sure if his mother was home yet from the hospital, and she was usually too tired to make a real meal after her long nursing shifts, so he usually tried to make her some dinner before she got home.
The gate to the McCall home was precarious before Stiles tried to push it open, but as he opened the gate it fell off of the hinges and he winced at the sound of it hitting the grass. He would have to fix that. Stiles sighed and set the gate off to the side so that nobody would trip over it, and then he walked inside.
Scott was in the kitchen, and Stiles greeted him as he began to head for the stairs, but before he touched the first step Scott called his name. The omega paused until Scott stepped out of the kitchen, and he waited as Scott said, "Your workplace called, Finstock said that someone went home sick and he'd like you to take the shift- I mean, I think that's what he meant; he's a strange, strange man."
It didn't take long for Stiles to drop his backpack off upstairs and grab his other bag- the one with his uniform in it. Quickly, he dashed for the door and said something that resembled a goodbye, but Scott just smiled and waved to him- apparently used to Stiles' shenanigans.
The cafe was busy when he got there, and Stiles changed his clothes as quickly as possible. He had been working at the cafe for about a year so far; it made good money and he was good at his job- even if it had its drawbacks.
He took one last look in the mirror in the back before he sighed to himself. His uniform was very traditional omega, and he couldn't help but wince at his reflection. His abdomen and chest were both pale and bare, and while he didn't usually wear anything around his neck it looked particularly long and bare when he was shirtless. The moles that splattered across his skin stood out even more when he was wearing such a traditional outfit. The wolf pelt tied around his waist had a redish tinge to the fur, and the fur leg warmers that covered his lower legs matched perfectly. Leather was tied around the fur on his legs, it was to secure the fur and also to remind the alphas in the room how his skin looked with leather across his skin. Despite human food laws, his feet were bare, as per tradition, and there was a small wreath of fresh flowers crowning his head. Stiles had always thought that it looked silly, but the alphas eyes always seemed to soften when they saw the flowers, it made Stiles fight an eye roll every time he recognized the expression. The flower wreaths were usually worn for festivals or the full moon only, and it was the full moon, so lucky Stiles.
Today his flower crown was made of mountain pink flowers, and he huffed out a sigh, but got right to work. The meal sizes were large despite the fact that his workplace was a cafe- but it was a cafe that catered to alphas, so it wasn't really a surprise that they required a lot of food, after all, alphas burned a lot of energy in a day.
For the next several hours, Stiles looked at alphas through his lashes, tilted his chin just so to allude towards submission without actually submitting, and referred to all of his customers as either 'my alpha' or 'alpha, sir'.
Thankfully the Alpha's Omegas Cafe was an establishment that was well known for having strict rules about alphas behaving when around the omegas. The omegas spent a lot of time checking in on their coworkers tables and distracting the alphas there when their eyes flashed with jealousy as their omega servers were serving other tables.
After a particularly handsy alpha had pinched Stiles' ass, earning himself the flash of golden omega eyes and a sharp snarl, the omega decided to take it upon himself to take out the garbage as he huffed out a sigh. He had to calm down before he saw that alpha again because it wasn't his job to lecture the man about important things like consent and taking advantage at the moment.
He slammed the garbage lid shut and pivoted to face the door again and then Stiles froze. Standing before him was a tall man dressed in a leather jacket with bushy eyebrows and a confused blink. Stiles copied his blink, and then the man finally said, "I didn't see that coming."
Oh God, Stiles realized, Derek Hale had seen him at his workplace.
Derek "God of Beacon Hills High" Hale officially had dirt on him.
One of the most arrogant alphas in school was officially staring at Stiles in his degradingly obsolete omega cafe uniform. The alpha's eyes trailed obviously down Stiles' body before looking him back in the eyes, and then he lifted an eyebrow and said, "You look good in furs and flowers."
Stiles was so screwed.
* * *
Leaving his workplace was like taking a breath of fresh air, and Stiles reveled in the feeling until he turned around to see Derek Hale standing across the street. The alpha rose both of his eyebrows this time as he said, "You're wearing your normal clothes now."
"Great deduction there Sherlock," Stiles sneered at him as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, "Like I would be seen dead wearing that abomination anywhere else."
The sounds of Stiles' coworkers approaching the door made him feel shy about the alpha suddenly- he didn't want to have to deal with Mason's questions, or Isaac's sarcastic remarks, Kira's genuine questions wouldn't have been terrible, but he wasn't ready to have his work and school life collide, and so he quickly ran across the street and grabbed Derek's shoulder. Stiles knew that the sharp push that he gave to Derek's shoulder wasn't enough force to actually move the alpha, and although he would rather die than admit it, he appreciated that Derek gave him the illusion of having equal strength.
"Come on, let's talk about this somewhere else." Stiles grumbled. Derek simply moved his eyebrows again in a way that Stiles interpreted as 'there's something to talk about?' The omega ignored the question that he saw, and instead began to explain why he was working there.
"So you work there because you don't know if your body could handle a more physical job." Derek concluded after their conversation. Stiles shrugged to answer, but they both knew that it was a yes. The alpha nodded and they didn't have much more to say after that, but the silence was comfortable as Derek walked him home.
The student president went from only seeing Derek when he was breaking omega's hearts, to seeing him everywhere. The alpha was present as Stiles reprimanded students, took on various president responsibilities, and worse, when Stiles was at work.
Every day that week, Stiles would greet Derek Hale at the front door of the cafe with an eye twitch, a forced smile and a gritted, "Welcome, my alpha."
Then through the entire day of work, Stiles would glare at Derek's corner seat, and the alpha's lips would twitch minutely as one or both of his eyebrows would twitch. Some days, Stiles felt like he could have an entire conversation with Derek Hale's eyebrows alone, an example:
"Can I get anything for you, my alpha?"
The blood of my enemies with a side of all of your self-worth and pride.
"An Americano with the lamest coffee art I can manage?"
Don't test me, mortal.
"I can try to draw an alpha with a stick up his ass."
You realize that you're still at work, right?
"Alright fine, I'll bring you an Americano with a shooting star, and maybe my wish will come true and tomorrow you won't be here."
Seriously, you realize that I'm a paying customer.
"Coming right up, oh alpha, my alpha."
Stiles could never quite interpret the spastic eyebrow movement that happened on Derek Hale's face every time that Stiles referred to him by saying 'oh alpha my alpha' but Stiles loved to see Derek squirm and so far that was the only way that he had managed to do it- even if it was only his eyebrows that reacted.
All week Stiles had been hypersensitive to anyone so much as uttering the word 'omega'. He was snapping his head to eavesdrop on his classmates' conversations that Stiles was pretty sure he had given himself whiplash.
"What do you think you're looking at?" Stiles growled lowly at a group of alphas and betas who were ducking their heads in the corner. The students looked up, and some looked upset at his presence, but others just rolled their eyes. Malia, for example, simply huffed out a sigh and said, "A magazine, obviously."
Stiles narrowed his eyes at the magazine in question, and he held out a hand and demanded, "Give it to me. I need to see if it's school-appropriate."
Malia bared her teeth at the omega, but shoved the magazine at him anyways. Stiles grabbed it and fought a sneer as they stared at each other for an extra moment, and then he finally looked down at the magazine in his hands.
The cover had a Were with omega-golden eyes half open, his neck bared and chin tilted back. He was shirtless with only wolf furs pooled around his lower body, barely concealing his naked form. The clothing was painfully reminiscent of Stiles' uniform, but the pose was the most risky part of the photo: the omega's eyes flaring as he looked towards, but past the camera with submission in his neck and his lips barely parted.
Stiles took a moment to read the text covering the front: 10 most submissive poses for your omega. Omega on Omega heats- hot or not? and of course, the title of the magazine: Yourmega. Stiles shook his head and tucked the magazine under his arm, "This isn't appropriate for school, you had to know that this would be confiscated."
"You're too hard on us!" Snapped one of the betas, Erica, her name was, "You never confiscate the omega's magazines!"
Stiles stared at her hard for a moment, but the blonde held her ground, and Stiles sighed; he knew that she was right. He threw a glance towards a group of omega students across the room and announced, "Alright, I want every class to put together a list of magazines that they'd like to have approved. I'll go over them all and decide what is and isn't appropriate."
"Aren't you already busy though? That'll take a long time..." A beta named Danny asked, and Stiles forced a kind smile onto his lips as he explained, "It's okay, this is my job as student council president."
The entire school day had Stiles feeling like there was a fog in his body- everything felt slower than usual and less clear. He sniffled as he rubbed his eyes and Stiles groaned at the cover of yet another omega magazine, they were rude and demeaning. A hand tapped down on his desk, and Stiles almost leapt out of his skin at the interruption. He immediately scowled up at Derek Hale who had apparently snuck up on him, and his lips twitched with the urge to bare his teeth.
"You're overworking yourself," Derek grumbled, "you're an omega, you can still get sick like humans- even if you heal much faster than them."
"I'm fine." Stiles managed to grind out, but Derek just rose one of his bushy eyebrows and didn't reply. The omega growled this time before he asked, "What do you want? I'm busy."
"You need to lighten up a bit, Stiles."
The omega slammed his hands down on his desk and snarled again, and he rounded on Derek as he explained, "Look, I told you- I'm," Stiles swayed suddenly, feeling unsteady on his feet. His head felt like clouds, and his eyelids fluttered. When he opened his eyes, Derek was holding him, and Stiles made a sound that was painfully similar to an 'eep' as he leapt out of the alpha's arms. Stiles stalked back to his desk as he snarled, "I've got work to do, get lost, Derek."
Work after school was relatively painless; but Stiles was beginning to feel weariness set into his bones. He refused to consider that Derek had been right, but evidence may have been suggesting that. Even carrying out the garbage took most of Stiles' concentration, that's how weak he was feeling, and he hated it.
"Tch. Here we thought that you were some kind of 'omega revolutionary' but really you're just a proper little omega bitch, aren't you?"
Stiles spun around and froze when he saw the three idiots Ethan, Aiden, and Matt between him and the back door of the cafe. Aiden had been the one to speak, if the grin on his lips meant anything. Matt, however was lifting up the camera around his neck as he said, "I think we need a picture to remind us of what a good little omega you can be."
Stiles could feel his breathing speeding up- this couldn't be happening. Ethan's eyes flared red and he leered and reached forward to grab the back of Stiles' neck as he mumbled, "You actually look like a pretty little submissive omega like this..."
Stiles flinched just as a muscular arm wrapped around his shoulders and he was washed over with the scent of campfire, cedar, and leather enveloped him. He looked up as Derek Hale's eyes glazed over red and he growled low in his throat, "Don't touch him."
The warmth of someone behind him made Stiles open his eyes curiously, and he frowned as he saw that Derek had knocked aside Aiden's hand. After that Derek reached forward and grabbed Matt's camera from him, after he ignored the beta's cry of dismay, the alpha turned it on and quickly went back through the photos. Stiles watched as he clicked a few buttons and then handed the camera back.
The alpha behind him snarled and the three idiots scrambled to get the hell out of dodge, leaving Stiles alone with Derek. He wanted to fight him and prove that he didn't need Derek's help, and that he could take care of himself, but when Stiles thought about moving his head spun, and the last thing he was aware of was a leather jacket over his shoulders and the warmth of alpha against his back.
He woke up slowly; he became aware of the warmth and weight of his blankets first, and then the comfy smoothness beneath him. Stiles opened his eyes a crack and realized that he was home in bed, and he was laying on a leather jacket that smelled like alpha.
The next school day was torture- Stiles was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, and even though he scrubbed himself until his skin was red, every time he had a conversation with anybody they would pause, wrinkle their eyebrows, and lean minutely closer to sniff him. It was rude, that's what it was. Rude and uncalled for. Scott didn't say anything that morning, but he did give his brother a playful smirk, and Melissa only grinned at him and told him that Derek Hale seemed like a very nice boy.
At the end of the school day, Stiles surprised himself by following Derek's scent easily up to the roof of the school, and sure enough, the alpha was sitting at the edge with his feet over the edge. With the leather jacket clenched in his hands like a shield, Stiles cleared his throat, and Derek turned to look at him with that arrogant smirk. The omega gritted his teeth and shoved the leather jacket out towards Derek.
"I hate being indebted to people." Stiles growled, and when Derek's only response was to lift his eyebrows, Stiles rolled his eyes and elaborated, "What I'm trying to say is thanks. Thanks for helping me the other day, and if you ever want anything in return-"
"I do." Derek interrupted, his gaze flickering red with that infuriating smirk still stuck on his lips.
"Oh! You do?" Stiles asked. He couldn't help but be concerned, after all, Derek didn't even stop to think about what he wanted, which made Stiles twitchy as he waited for the alpha to elaborate. Finally the alpha stood up and approached him, and after a moment Derek reached out his hand as if he was going to caress Stiles' neck, but he withdrew it at the last moment.
Instead, the alpha side eyed him and grinned as he said, "Would you be my personal omega for a day?"
Stiles snarled at him before he spun on his heel and stalked away; he desperately tried to ignore the heat that had risen to his cheeks and the quickened beat of his heart. The idea was infuriating, but what was even more infuriating is that Stiles wasn't sure if he actually wanted to say no.
By phlossie for Sterek week 2015. This is a stolen ummm, ‘scene’ or two... from Dark Shadows.
“Angry Mob! RUN!” Finstock squawks, hurrying away from the front door.
Lady Lydia watches him go, then calmly takes her nephew by the shoulders and directs him to the house, it would not be the strangest thing to happen all week.
“Scott, go inside” She looks up at Derek and he follows, moving with intent as he hears the police sirens wail up the drive.
The Lady turns at the door to stand next to her daughter, facing the oncoming townsfolk with dignity. Ire building when she hears the drone of that woman’s muscle car. Keeping her head up as the sheriff and townsfolk crowd onto her turning circle.
“Lyds, I’m sorry” And he really does look trite, though the effect is rather dampened by the malicious smirk on Kate’s face as she stalks towards them. “I’m gonna have to take you in.” he pauses. “All a you”
She raises her eyebrows, this simply is not going to happen. “John” she walks down the stairs, all elegance, though there is an entirely feminine threat in the swish of her hips. “The Hale family built this town. We built it with our boats and our nets” she snarls at Kate who only smirks wider. “Our sacrifices and our blood.” She tells the sheriff. “And this is how you repay us?”
“You’ve been harboring a murderer” Kate cuts across his reply. “Arrest them.” She commands, smug in her righteouness, and the sheriff looks torn.
“I shall go willingly” They all startle as Derek strides from the house onto the terraced steps “To whatever punishment awaits.” The crowd gasps, Kate frowns though and Lydia is pleased to see the sour look. It means things are not going according to her plan. “Provided no harm befalls my family.”
“Hold it right there.” Sheriff Stilinski edges his hand toward his gun, but Derek raises an imperious hand and he halts with a glazed look.
“Provided Ms Argent goes along with me,” he continues his advance, hand keeping the sheriff at bay. “For she is no less a monster than I.”
In the background Erica shuts the doors to their mansion, retreating into its depths.
“Perhaps it’s best...” Derek takes a hold of Kate’s neck, now solely addressing her and breaking his hold on the sheriff who blinks confoundedly. “...If we are both Destroyed” he closes his grip on her throat and she chokes, air whistling hoarsely into her lungs.
“Mr Hale, Back off!” the sheriff draws his weapon. “I’m warning you!”
Derek does no such thing and Stilinski fires several shots into his back to no effect. His eyes go wide over the barrel of the gun and the crowd begins to panic.
“Go on” Kate taunts. “Slaughter me!” Her neck crackles like china under his grip. “Show him what you Are.” She presses her fingers over his, encouraging.
“No” Derek glares into her snake eyes “I shall show them what we are.” he pulls her head to one side and bites down hard on her neck. Kate gasps skin chinking as fracture lines shoot their way up its surface and she throws him, flying back into the heavy doors of the castle, splintering them, he lands on the marble floor of the entry hall.
Someone in the crowd calls “What’s that man done to Katie?”
Lady Lydia turns, eyes venomous and glares Kate down. “It’s not him its her.” she spits. “She’s a witch”
Unconcerned Kate turns her head on her loose neck to face the onlooking townsfolk. “Excuse me” She smiles ingratiatingly then turns and strides into the house. The people titter nervously, entirely unsure of their previously righteous anger.
Finstock jumps in front of her in the entryway, with a baseball bat “You gotta get through me first, lady.” but Kate simply swipes him to the side and he flies into the coat rack with a deafening thud.
The sheriff watches from outside with a look of disbelief, realizing events are quickly spiraling out of his jurisdiction. “Alright everybody go on home now, nothin to see here” His officers hurry to get the crowd moving.
Inside the house Kate advances on her ex-lover “You should have loved me Derek” she scolds as he stands up. “None of this would have happened if you’d just loved me.” her voice quivers, and he curls his lip in disgust.
“I should have destroyed you, you brought me nothing but misery.”
She frowns “I gave you my heart!”
“You have no heart!” perhaps he did not either, but he had never made such a pretension and was therefore beyond reproach in that respect.
She continues her advance unpeterbed. “You’re the curse! Women are undone by loving you…” a crazed look comes over her features. “Maczysz, Paige, professor Blake, and your beloved Stiles.”
Derek tries not to let the anger read on his face, he will destroy her before he lets her take his beloved again. “I command you to release him from your curse.”
“Command? You make me sick!” and, on cue, she spews forth a great torrent of bile.
Derek dodges and raises his eyebrows. “Missed me.” Antagonizing her further was perhaps not a good move, for she produces another great stream of vomit and catches him right in the face.
He shudders at the sensation, revolted by both the woman and her actions. “Vulger hideous serpent, I shall deliver you to hells doorstep!” he retakes her throat and bends it from side to side, listening to the satisfying tinkle of her ceramic skin, finally flinging her through the roof into the storey above.
There is a satisfying thud and shout as she lands and he steps back to avoid the debris raining down from the hole, that should occupy her for a while. Long enough to get some of this disgusting liquid off his face.
-
There is a growling from the rafters above Kate’s head, and she looks up to see furry legs appear through the young Hale’s floral pajamas.
Erica bears her teeth. “Get. Out. OF MY ROOM!” she roars, nails scratching lines onto the large beams.
Kate, raises her eyebrows, such drama, and descends to the lower floor through the hole she made on her way up, loosening more debris as she goes.
“Katherine!” Lady Lydia calls from behind Derek, who still has smears of parbreak on his skin and clothes. “Get outta my house.” Her eyes narrow dangerously and she cocks her semi automatic, barely waiting for Kate to smirk before firing at her, sending her stumbling backwards with each subsequent shot until she is thrown over entirely by the force of it.
Kate lies on the floor for a moment, then like a doll manipulated for childs-play, flips over, body moving in entirely unnatural ways to maintain functionality in the face of its injuries. She clinks and scrapes against the marble floor as a child’s tea-party. “Your house?” she asks, perfect face marred by fissures and dents and appearing deranged, she casts her gaze over the family portraits on the walls for consensus and they begin to laugh, mocking lady Lydia’s conviction.
The house creaks as even the statues bend from their plinths to join the joke, and the snakes wrapped up the balustrades unwind themselves and slither up the stairs towards Lydia in threat. She fires at them, sending splinters flying into the air, and herself backwards onto the stairs with the force of the blast. She is immensely relieved when beheading proves fatal even to inanimate objects.
Derek scowls “Enough trickery!” he hits Kate hard across the cheek. She spins away, face sliding into hurt anger.
“I worshipped you.” She whines, regaining her footing.
“You plagued me!” Derek snarls, hitting her again.
“I adored you!” she howls, retaliating and sending him stumbling.
He picks up a lump of wood from the floor. “I despised you.” He hisses and hits her again splintering the wood over her head, there is a satisfying tinkle of broken china.
She lands some feet away and glares “Fine… If Hale blood built this house, then let us bathe in it.” She smiles malevolently.
Derek follows her gaze up to his portrait above the fire place, red tracks of blood are ooozing from his face there like tears. They drip down his uncle’s portrait on the other wall too, and the flowers by the staircase wilt as blood flows down his mothers cheeks in the portrait above.
Hale glares at her, seeing the portrait of his first love Maczysz run red and a large crack split the wall behind it and feeling his hatred build to unearthly levels.
The cracks continue around the building, rending furniture, ornaments and portraits alike, setting loose the carved statues, which rise form the walls with deep malicious laughter. Lydia sways on her feet like a boxer readying for a fight, turning to shoot one of the statues when it reaches out to grab her form behind. The house has turned hostile under Kate’s stare.
There’s a bright flare form the fire place and the couch and coffee table catch alight, Derek stumbles back from their intensity and Kate throws the burning table towards him, rushing him into the clutches of another statue where he is trapped.
Her advance is halted by a growling from above, and Erica flies down through the hole in the floor of her room, barking at Kate when she lands between the witch and Derek.
“Leave us alone.” She rumbles.
“Erica” calls Lydia, shocked by her daughters hairy appearance. “Erica, My God.”
Erica turns her shaggy head to her mother and quite calmly states “I’m a werewolf, okay? Lets not make a big deal out of it.” She huffs around her teeth mildly incensed by her mothers propriety, though her furred face remains hidden in the shadow of her hair. “Woof” she finally mocks and leaps at Kate, tearing into her with relish. Kate throws her off into one of the walls, but Erica gets back up, barely injured and leaps at her again, sinking her teeth into her arm. Kate shakes her violently and Lydia cocks her gun from the stairs, ready to take a shot, however when Kate throws Erica off and she lands with a whimper at the base of the stairs, Lydia drops the weapon in favor of helping her.
“What have you done to my Daughter.” Lydia snaps, glaring at Kate with renewed hatred.
“Well Lyds, your perfect Hale pedigree lacked a bitta substance. So, I sent the Werewolf who bit Erica in her crib.” Lydia frowns, realizing the strangeness of her daughter wasn't entirely her own fault.
Flames flare up the sides of the stairs and Kate turns to the front door where Scott is hiding behind a pillar. “Just like I made Scott no better than a Bastard. When I sent his Mommy to the ocean floor to have tea with the tuna.” She smiles toothily and bends a little as she walks towards him, caching her words like baby talk.
“And as for you my love,” she says, looking up towards Derek where he is trapped in the hold of the sculpture. “I killed your Mother and Father” she climbs easily up to face him, curling her fingers over his shoulders and stroking his cheek. “I cursed your family my Derek.” she Coos “They kept us apart.” She presses her thumb agains his clavicle in a gentler mirror of his previous hold on her own. “They never understood we’re the same, we’re meant to be.”
“Leave him alone” Scott demands in a strong voice and Kate turns to face him again.
“I think I’ll kill you first. Orphan” she leaps down from her perch against Derek.
“Scott, get out!” Lydia yells, clinging to her injured daughter and unable to save her nephew.
“Your quarrel is with me!” Derek pleads still trapped by the carving.
“My quarrel is with alla you” she threatens, circling with Scott.
“I’m warning you, this is your last chance.” He says, backing away from her and further into the burning room. “Let us go.”
“And what’ll you do if I don’t, you little Bastard.” She snarls, abruptly vindictive.
He stops backing away. “Not me, My mom.”
The lights in the entry hall behind Kate begin to flicker and she turns, eyes widening.
Everyone in the room watches the doorway as Ms McCall-Hale appears out of the air, hair streaming, arms raised, ire written in every line of her face, and screams. Shattering every vase in the room and sending Kate flying backwards into the ornate chandelier, which swings ever so slightly then falls tinkling to the floor.
Derek falls as Kates evil magic loosens its hold on the statue. “GO!” he commands the others as the supernatural fires leap from their constraints and begin to eat up the walls.
Lydia bodly lifts Erica and carries her towards the doors, the flames destroying things after her.
“Scotty! Come on!” she calls and he runs out ahead of them, waking Finstock on his way. The old butler shakes himself awake and stands for a split second taking in the rapidly deteriorating entrance hall then hurriedly follows them from the building.
Derek approaches Kate’s crumpled body where it rests against the remnants on the chandelier. Her arms held out like puppets on a string by the loops of crystal.
“So this is how it ends…” he crouches down. “So quiet, as if you were asleep…” She is not so different now, less vital, less manipulative, but she is still beautiful in her own way. “You know there was a time, when I might have loved you.” He had, he had loved her, but she had not been right, she had not been the man he needed. She had been the woman he could have. We could have spent eternity together.” In this century though, he could have Stiles, he had no need for this once captivating girl, not once she had become a crazed old hag.
“We still- can.” She whispers skin cracked as if in old age.
“You never wanted my love.” he admonishes. “You wanted to posses me.”
“No.” a tear leaks out of the corner of her bruised eye. “I love you Derek.”
His face hardens. “You cannot love Katherine. That is your curse.” Just as he may not have a heart, but still could love, passionately so, blindingly so. He had loved her once, but that love paled in size and beauty and vitality when compared to Stiles’.
The tear runs down into one of the cracks in her face and she pulls her arm from the chain of crystals, reaching for her chest she presses in, piercing the porcelain skin and drawing out her beating, bloodless heart.
Derek watches in mild horror as she offers it to him. “Take it” she whispers as its pulsing slows, but he does not and in the next moment it cracks, shattering like her skin and crumbling onto the floor.
She sags against the chandelier and Derek reaches out, gently touching her cheek, it crumbles and chipped pieces fall into the cavity of her vacant body.
He frowns, and there is a fizz as part of the roof falls in. He leaps into action, suddenly realizing that he still cannot sense his beloved. “Stiles, Stiles!” he calls, but the young man isn’t there and a sudden sick panic sweeps through him. She had promised after all, that she would send his young lover to the same fate as his last.
He storms towards the front door, interrupting Scott as he converses with the ghost of his mother.
“She said Widows hill.” He calls as Derek passes, watching him dash away.
Derek storms along the track, heart racing at how strikingly similar it all is.
As Stiles and Derek stride though the forest, the Hale family watch their home burn down.
“What do we do now?” Scott asks, voice small as the house facade crumbles.
“What we always do.” Lydia replies, drawing the two children close. “Endure.”
On the hill Stiles begins to make the climb towards the precipitous cliff, Derek racing to catch up.
Stiles is terrified, but also resolute, there is nothing he can do to stop his legs from moving, no amount of blubbering will change the mind of the curse, it’s also calming, finally knowing what Maczysz has been trying to tell him. They walk side by side, Maczysz floating over the white, wind tattered grass.
When he reaches the cliff egde he looks down, immensely calm now, readying for the fall he knows will come. Like the fall Maczysz had shown him from the chandelier in the great hall.
The surf crashes on the black rocks and his feet propel him ever further towards the edge, then strong hands grab his shoulders, turning him, and, just like that, the motion stops, and the spell is broken.
“I thought I’d lost you” Derek breaths as they embrace.
Stiles smiles softly. “You have lost me.” He had not realised it till he looked over the edge of the cliff, and Maczysz had stepped over even when he was stopped. He closes his eyes.
Derek pulls back, confused.
“I live in the light Derek. You live in the shadows.” He watches the confusion furrow his beloveds brow, and wishes it must not be so. “I’ll grow old and die and you’ll live forever.” It had occurred to him as he walked, while the witch may yet steal his life, she had already stolen Derek from him, the answer was a simple one.
Derek shakes his head. “We will find a way, my love.”
“There’s only one way.” The wind ruffles his short hair, as he says it. It is true, there was no way for Stiles to live with Derek as a human, there could be no way, Kate had seen to that.
“No” Derek says gravely. “I will not see you suffer as I do. Never.”
Stiles smiles gently, he would fall after all, and pulls backward, out of Derek’s arms.
“NO!” Derek scrambles for the edge, then throws himself off it.
He catches Stiles mid fall and clutches him hard to his body, sinking his teeth into his neck.
They hit the rocks with a bone shattering thud, waves crashing over them.
Derek struggles up, body and heart numb with anxiety. He cannot bear to have failed, he will find some way to follow Stiles if he has. He gently lifts his lovers body, limp and unconscious, he cannot detect a pulse. “Stiles, My sweet.” He looks down at his peaceful face. Cold heart sinking when he remains lifeless. “Stiles!” The young man’s face glows, and before his very eyes transforms into the luminant, deep eyed, semblance of his own.
“Maczysz.” He corrects him, lifting a long nailed finger to Derek’s cheek. He turns his face into it tenderly pressing his lips to his palm, then lifts his soulmate up to kiss, there amongst the crashing waves. Their curse finally lifted.
