An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
@wolfile
So I saw that you entered the Sterek Big Bang and that your author had to drop out (no shade, no hate, it’s been a rough couple of years for everyone and I truly hope they’re okay). That being said, you’re always super nice to everyone and even though your BB fell through, you still clearly put a lot of work into your art pieces, so I just wanted to give you something to thank you for being a continued contributor to the Sterek fandom. Thank you for all that you do ❤
“You making popcorn for breakfast again?” Liam asked after Stiles had successfully hidden from the poor woman.
“I’ll have you know, I haven’t had popcorn for breakfast in over a month,” he informed him. “Also, very presumptuous of you, accusing me with no proof whatsoever.”
“The fire alarm went off, it’s always you,” Liam insisted, rounding another corner.
“You know one day, the fire alarm is going to go off and it won’t have been my fault.” Stiles dreamt of that day, honestly. He’d be able to prance down the stairs, guilt-free, proclaiming to everyone he saw that it wasn’t his fault.
For once.
“The day this alarm goes off and it’s not you, the building will actually be on fire,” Liam deadpanned.
Fucking Stiles Stilinski and his stupid face, his stupid smile, and the stupid way that Derek would always see him in the hallways and that bright look in his eyes always made him stumble. Fucking Stiles Stilinski and the way that Derek couldn’t get him out of his head for some reason.
For some stupid, unbelievable reason.
Cora thought it was hilarious. Derek thought it was the most annoying thing ever.
Stiles was the most annoying thing ever.
“Hale!”
Derek nearly stumbled over his own feet at Coach’s shout, turning around to see a basketball sailing right toward his face. Eyes rounding, he barely had the chance to duck as laughter filled the air and he glared across the gym— where all the cheerleaders stood in their little group, Stiles right splat in the middle.
Fucking Stiles Stilinski.
“I said, Hale!”
Growling, Derek turned back around as Coach stalked toward him. Derek’s older sister used to tell him that Coach’s bite was worse than his bark, but Derek had come to realize that was utter bull. If there was one thing BHHS’s basketball coach was good at, it was yelling.
“Where the hell is your head, Hale?” Coach shouted, jabbing him on the forehead. Derek swallowed another growl and let the man poke away, knowing better than to ever avidly seek out Coach’s wrath. “You’re living in a daydream today!”
“Sorry, Coach,” Derek mumbled, dropping his gaze. The sound of laughter was still in the air, though, and his eyes snapped back up unconsciously, over Coach’s shoulder as he took in Stiles’s bright and grinning face.
He was always grinning and that bothered Derek like nothing else. The way his eyes would dance, his laughter would make Derek’s heart skip a beat, and— and—
“Hale!”
Derek blinked at the shout right in his ear, feeling like he’d just been dunked into cold water. Coach was scowling now and Derek felt his face turn redder, wishing he could be anywhere else but practice at the moment. “Uh, right. Sorry, Coach.”
“Yeah, kid, you’ve said that already. Are you feeling alright today?”
“I’m fine,” Derek said, forcing himself not to look back over at where Stiles was. “Really.”
“Good,” Coach said. “Because if you miss the game this week, I’m taking you off the starting lineup for the rest of the season.”
Derek looked back at the man in alarm, but Coach just raised his hands, turning away.
“Don’t force my hand, Hale.”
Derek watched him walk away and then despite himself, despite everything, glanced over his shoulder. Most of the cheerleaders had lost interest at this point— except for Stiles. Stiles, who was still staring at him, that crooked smile still hanging on his lips. And the moment his eyes met Derek’s, something in his expression changed. He grinned wider, raised a hand, and Derek quickly turned back around.
He wasn’t doing this. He wasn’t… ugh.
Fucking Stiles Stilinski.
-
“I don’t know why, man,” Stiles said, slamming his locker shut. “But the guy hates me. You should’ve seen him at practice yesterday.”
“I don’t think he hates you,” Scott said, shrugging on his backpack. Stiles shot him a disbelieving look and the boy shrugged, starting down the hall with Stiles at his side. “I just don’t think he knows you. I mean, you guys never even talk, right?”
Stiles glowered. “I was his chemistry partner last semester and I’ve been on the cheerleading team since I was a freshman. He should know me well enough to at least smile back when I wave hi.”
“He just ignored you?”
Stiles rolled his eyes. “I dunno, dude. He gets all weird, clams up, and then pretends like I don’t exist.”
Scott gave him a curious look, but Stiles wasn’t paying his friend any attention anymore. Speaking of the devil, he eyed Derek as they passed him and a few of his buddies gathered around their lockers. And for a moment— one brief, making Stiles’s stomach clench moment— grey-green eyes met his own.
But then Hale’s face tightened, his eyes snapped away, and he slammed his locker so hard, all of his buddies jumped.
Stiles rolled his eyes, walking faster past. “See what I mean?”
Scott was still giving him a strange look. But Stiles only half-noticed it, forcing himself not to glance over his shoulder as the sounds of the jocks' voices faded. Glaring down at the floor, he wondered what the hell was so wrong with him. Or maybe what the hell was so wrong with Derek Hale.
So Stiles might have been crushing on him for three years now. So what? It wasn’t like it actually mattered judging by the fact that Hale had never even really acknowledged his existence anyway.
“Whatever,” Stiles said. “Screw Derek Hale.”
“Sure, man,” Scott said, shaking his head. And honestly, Stiles thought he was holding something back. But did he care? Absolutely not. Stiles had no cares in the world.
Especially not about Derek Hale.
-
“I’m just saying,” Erica said, readjusting her uniform and dabbing at her glossed lips. “If you like him so much, you should consider talking to him once in a while.”
Derek pulled a face, making Boyd snort at the girl’s side, one arm wrapped around her waist. The rest of the cafeteria was far too loud around them and he was trying to concentrate on the chemistry homework that he had definitely not done. Back when Stiles had been his partner, Derek had actually been driven to get it done, if only to impress the boy. Not like it’d ever worked, he didn’t think.
He didn’t really know how the hell to impress Stiles Stilinski.
“I don’t like him,” Derek growled, ignoring Isaac’s disbelieving scoff. “I just think he has no right being so loud and what the hell is up with the outfit?”
Erica shot him an obvious look, gesturing down at her own, and Derek rolled his eyes.
“That’s different.”
“Is it?” Isaac asked mildly, attention fixed on the orange he was trying and failing to peel. “Or is it because whenever you catch the sight of Stilinski in a crop top on the court, you trip over your own feet and lose the ball?”
Derek shot him an annoyed look. Isaac wasn’t even paying attention.
“He’s right,” Erica said, smirking wickedly. “But if you’d like, Der, I can put in a good word. Stiles is my Batman and he sure could use his own Clark Kent.”
“Shut up.”
“Okay, whatever,” the girl shrugged. “Just tell me if you change your mind.”
Derek glowered even more, gaze still drifting across the cafeteria. Totally not toward the table where Stiles sat surrounded by his friends, Scott’s arm slung over his shoulders in a way that definitely didn’t make Derek frown.
“Whipped,” Erica snorted across from him. Derek turned the weight of his glare toward her, trying to wipe at least some of that knowing smirk from her lips.
It didn’t work.
-
If Stiles was sure of one thing, it was that Mr. Harris hated him.
It wasn’t like chemistry was his least favorite class or anything— or at least, it didn’t use to be. But he was pretty sure Mr. Harris hated him with all his heart and soul, and that had kind of soured the class for Stiles as the year went on.
Which was why when the man stuck them with some lame-ass book assignment and proceeded to get on his phone, acting like none of his students existed, Stiles shot Scott a grin and held out his hand, making a grabby gesture.
“How much money would you give me to flip this table, right here, right now, in the middle of class?”
Scott gave him a wide-eyed look, which only made Stiles grin wider.
“Cause I swear, I’ll do it.”
“Don’t,” Scott said, eyes darting nervously to where Harris sat. “He’ll have you in detention for the rest of the year.”
“It’s almost over anyway,” Stiles said, still grinning. “And he can’t give me detention if I accidentally ‘fall’ now can he? Twenty bucks and I’ll make him forget all about this stupid time filler assignment, easy peasy.”
“Stiles—”
“I’ll take you up on that.”
Stiles turned around, blinking in surprise at Erica Reyes. She smirked, nodding toward Harris.
“But you have to do it so hard, he falls out of his chair.”
Stiles looked at her for a long moment, debating. At the desk beside her, Boyd shifted a little nervously, but didn’t say anything to talk his girlfriend down. Chewing on his lower lip, Stiles thought for one more moment, then grinned brightly, holding out his hand.
“Deal.”
“Money after,” Erica said, eyes glinting. “But he has to be out of his chair, Stilinski.”
Scott was still giving him a pleading look, but Stiles pretended like he didn’t see it as he turned back around. Harris was still fixated on his phone, feet propped up on his desk. Stiles studied the man, tilted his head, and then shoved himself up so fast, his chair went tipping and he caught the underside of the table, taking it with him as everything went spilling to the floor.
There was a shout, a yelp. Stiles watched in absolute glee as Harris jerked so hard, he kicked his coffee cup off his desk and his chair tumbled backward, taking the man and the cord of his laptop, wrapped around his foot, with him.
For a moment, the classroom was silent. Stiles glanced back at Erica, who looked like she was just barely containing a fit of laughter.
Then, “Stilinski!”
Stiles winced, shooting Erica one last look. Her face was bright red now. “Twenty bucks, Reyes.”
“Derek will cover me,” Erica said, jerking her head to the table across the room. Stiles looked over, startled, to see Hale looking at him with wide green eyes, face a little pale.
Stiles offered a weak smile, raising a hand in a small wave. And then the boy was looking sharply away.
Stiles didn’t even have a chance to feel insulted before Harris had grabbed the back of his collar and dragged him from the room.
-
Stiles did, after all, get Friday afternoon detention for the next month, despite his protests that the whole ‘table flipping accident’ was really an accident. He supposed it was worth it though; twenty bucks was a two or three milkshakes at his favorite diner if he didn’t get fries.
“I can’t believe you, dude,” Scott said, elbowing him in the side. “That was so stupid.”
“That was so genius,” Stiles said, elbowing him back. “Harris completely forgot about the assignment and I’m up twenty bucks.”
The boy just grilled his eyes. “From Derek?”
The grin slipped off of Stiles’s lips. In all of the excitement, he'd completely forgotten about Erica absolutely screwing him over. Catching his expression, Scott barked a laugh, patting him on the back and starting away.
“Best of luck with that, man.”
“Hey, wait! Scotty? Scott!”
The thing about Derek Hale is that Stiles wasn’t really intimidated by him, per-say. Sure, the guy was a year older, constantly gave him the cold shoulder, and was always surrounded by his ‘too cool for school’ jock buddies. But Stiles was also pretty sure Derek was a bit of a nerd. Even if it was just secretly so.
He’d probably been the best chemistry partner Stiles had ever had. Even if he’d pretended like Stiles didn’t exist the entire time.
He sought him out before the game, heart thudding against his chest in a way that Stiles didn’t really understand. It was hard enough separating Derek Hale from his buddies, but his sister also stuck to his side— and she was intimidating.
Cora was Stiles’s grade and, like him, a few classes ahead. She also scared the crap out of Stiles whenever those eyes lit up with anything close to mischief.
“Good afternoon, Stilinski,” she said as Stiles approached, arms folded across her chest. “Nice top.”
Stiles glanced down at himself and then rolled his eyes, glancing at Derek. For some reason, the boy looked a little constipated and his face was bright red. “Erica owes me twenty bucks.”
Cora raised an eyebrow, glancing over at her brother. Derek just stared.
Stiles sighed. “She said you’d cover her.”
“She— what?”
“Twenty bucks, dude,” Stiles said, sticking out his hand. “Pay up.”
Cora made a scoffing noise and clapped Derek on the shoulder before giving Stiles an amused look. “And that’s my cue to leave. Go easy on him, Stiles. Derek gets a little tongue-tied when he can see skin.”
Stiles blinked, unsure what to do with any part of that sentence. But Derek’s face was red all the way to his ears now and before Stiles could say a word, he was turning away too, starting toward the locker room.
Stiles blinked again, rooted to the spot for a moment. Then, shaking his head, he started after the boy.
“Hey, dude, wait!”
Derek did not, in fact, wait.
Stiles followed him into the locker room, stumbling over his own feet as he tried to catch up. Derek went straight for his locker and started to tug off his shirt, making Stiles yelp and avert his eyes.
Which was stupid, right? Yeah, that was stupid. It’s not like he’d never seen another dude change in the literal locker room before.
“I don’t have your money,” Derek said, sounding like he was grinding his teeth together. Stiles licked his lips nervously, turning to face the boy again.
He was still shirtless.
“Uh, right,” Stiles said, shaking his head. Silently, he willed Derek to pull on his jersey or maybe just stop stripping altogether. His mind was blank for the entire time that Derek finally pulled his basketball jersey over his head, raising an eyebrow afterward as if he didn’t know why Stiles was still within spitting distance of him.
“Well?”
Stiles opened his mouth, closed it, and then frowned. “Okay, dude, what the hell is your problem?”
Derek paused with the jersey half pulled down his torso. Stiles tried not to blush.
“You’ve literally only spoken to me like twice,” Stiles said. “And still hate me for some reason. Have I ever done something to offend you? Are you offended by all that is—” he gestured to himself up and down— “This?”
Hale looked taken aback. Stiles’s throat tightened.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I don’t…” Derek shook his head and pulled his jersey all the way down. “You’re fine.”
“I’m fine?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess.”
Stiles stared at him. He couldn’t see much of the boy’s face in the darkness, but he was pretty sure he was still lying about something. Derek grabbed his bag, starting to brush past, but Stiles caught his arm before he could go anywhere.
Derek made a noise of surprise, spinning back around. And Stiles quickly let go, retreating a step back, and promptly got his feet caught in his own bag, a noise of surprise leaving his mouth before he started to topple over.
He definitely wasn’t going to be fine after this, some part of his brain supplied helpfully.
Only, Stiles didn’t brain himself. Suddenly, there was a hand around his forearm and seconds before Stiles hit the lockers, Derek hauled him back up, grunting slightly.
Except, just because Stiles excelled at making bad things even worse, he found himself lurching forward with the momentum, slamming right into his so-called “you’re fine, I guess” savior.
This time, it was Derek’s turn to go toppling. And the only help Stiles provided was him falling right after the boy.
In all the ways he could die, Stiles never thought it would be death by angry-jock-who-just-got-tackled. Underneath him, Derek’s eyes were wide, face pale, and Stiles stared back, pretty sure his heart had stopped beating in his chest.
For a moment, he was almost terrified to breathe. Then, slowly, he realized he wasn’t dead yet.
“Um,” Stiles said, face turning hot. “Sorry.”
He half-expected Derek to shove him off or maybe give him a good punch in the face first. But instead, the boy just stayed there, frozen, eyes wide and pupils dilated. Stiles felt his throat close, carefully starting to push himself up.
“Stiles,” Derek said croakily. Stile abruptly froze.
“Oh my god, dude, I’m so sorry. Did I break something? Please tell me I didn’t break anything.”
Derek was still staring at him. And Stiles didn’t mean to drop his gaze to the other boy’s lips, he really didn’t. It wasn’t like he’d never imagined what it would be like if Derek one day kissed him. Possibly after he realized Stiles actually existed, possibly after he realized how damn hot Stiles was.
Because he was, thank you very much.
“Stiles,” Derek said again. And Stiles realized he’d been staring for much too long.
Shit.
In a second, Stiles was pushing himself up. He half dragged Derek with him, swaying a little as his heart thudded against his chest. The silence in the locker room was almost too loud as Derek stared at him for a long moment, chest rising and falling a little too fast.
“So,” Stiles said, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. “About that twenty dollars—”
He was cut off by the action of Derek kissing him.
Derek Hale. Derek Hale was kissing him and Stiles was pretty sure he hadn’t just hit his head too hard when they both fell or something. For a moment, he was too surprised to do anything but make a startled noise at the back of his throat, and then Derek was crowding him against the lockers, one hand carding through his hair as Stiles came snapping back to himself like a rubber band stretched too far.
Derek Hale was kissing him. And dammit if Stiles didn’t kiss him back the moment Stiles exe. was working again.
If he found out later that he had just hit his head too hard or maybe Derek had actually killed him, Stiles supposed he’d be fine. He’d be fine because yeah, he’d probably thought about this a thousand times, but he’d never actually seen it happening.
He also kinda hadn’t ever done anything like this before, so he really hoped Derek wasn’t about to call him the worst kisser ever or something.
Stiles let Derek take the lead as the boy tightened his grip in Stiles’s hair. And yeah, he was so glad he’d decided to let it grow out Sophomore year. Because this? This was every one of his fantasies.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a buzzer from outside.
Stiles jerked so hard, he slammed his head against the lockers, groaning in pain as the kiss broke. He felt a little dazed, a lot shocked, and the moment he opened his eyes, Derek was looking at him with that ‘caught in headlights’ expression again.
Buzzer, some part of Stiles’s brain offered.
The game.
“Oh, shit,” Stiles said, snapping back to reality. If he was the reason that the star player of the basketball team was late to the game, Lydia was totally going to kick him off the cheer squad. Derek was starting to look a little more grounded too, thankfully, and even in the dim light, Stiles could tell his face was bright red.
“Um…”
“Yeah.”
“That was—”
“Mm-hm.”
Derek snapped his mouth shut, eyes flitting from Stiles’s face, to his lips, and then back up. And that was Stiles’s move, wasn’t it? “Was that bad?”
Stiles blinked. Once more, Stiles exe. logged off for a second and then he shook his head, staring. “No? No, definitely not. No.”
“I, uh, don’t hate you,” Derek said. A small, almost shocked laugh built up in Stiles’s throat.
“I could tell.”
Derek looked down at himself, his uniform, and then toward the door. When he looked back, his expression was almost hesitant, and Stiles was almost surprised he’d never seen a look like that before. “I have a game.”
“Yeah,” Stiles said, finally cracking a small smile. Because his heart had stopped thudding against his chest now and he just felt a little warm. A little tingly. Which, if this was all real, was actually quite pleasant. “Yeah, dude, I’m usually there too.”
Derek’s ears turned red. “Oh, yeah.”
Stiles looked at the boy, hesitated for a moment, and then leaned forward, pecking him on the cheek. Derek immediately went statue-still again and Stiles snorted despite himself, patting the boy on the shoulder as he slipped by. “That’s for good luck, Hale. I’ll see you out there?”
Derek was still wide-eyes and speechless when he turned around. Still grinning, Stiles offered him a wink and salute, before all but stumbling toward the door.
He could feel Derek staring after him. But the boy didn’t say another word.
Stiles had never seen himself the one to break Derek Hale.
-
Derek stayed after the brown-haired, amber-eyed boy in silence, his thoughts moving slowly. For a moment, he felt dazed. Then winded. Like he’d already played the game, won, and had maybe been declared MVP or something.
But then Stiles was gone, Derek was left in the silence, and he finally snapped out of his trance.
A trance, yeah. That’s what he could call it.
Because he had just kissed Stiles. He had just kissed Stiles Stilinski.
Derek blinked, then reached up, touching his lips. And fuck, Stiles had tasted like cinnamon and spices. And somehow, it had all been better than Derek might have ever always wondered.
He had just kissed Stiles.
“Oh,” Derek said, as the sound of the scoreboard buzzer went off outside the locker room again. Game— starting— right.
Oh.
Fucking Stiles Stilinski.
-
Oh gosh, so I've never actually written a Sterek High School fic, so I apologize if it's a bit rough around the edges. I couldn’t figure out to work the jumper part in, but I hope crop-tops were a okay substitute @wolfile! Thank you so much for the prompt <3
(if you enjoy my writing, consider sending a coffee? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey
Additional Tags: Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Alpha Derek, Excessive use of the F word, Derek Hale Uses His Words, Podfic Available
Summary:
[Derek] looks like he’s trying to will Stiles to be silent, to not wake Isaac up who is undoubtedly fragile from maybe sneezing during dinner or tripping over the coffee table, but he also looks like he maybe feels bad. A little. Feels a little, tiny bit bad about his boyfriend walking in on their one fucking night together to find him in bed with someone else.
“Fuck this”, he mutters, holding his hands up and backing out of the room.
“Stiles”, Derek whispers so quietly he can barely hear. “It’s not… he… he needs me. Don’t…”
Stiles doesn’t wait around to hear the rest of his barely whispered not-apology. He turns and leaves. Derek doesn’t follow. Fuck. Today. So. Hard.
-
Sharing Rough Night again because it now has incredible art by @wolfile!!! Go check it out 😍😍😍 Thank you, Thank you @wolfile 💜
Hi, I love your blog! I’m looking for a fic where Derek is alpha, and he has to bite stiles to save his life, and because they’re mates stiles also becomes an alpha and they’re an “alpha pair”? I think they have sex and stiles tops. I’d really like to find it!
Does anyone remember reading this fic?
ziamsm found it. Thank you!!
Entelechy by the_deep_magic | 7.2K | Explicit
Derek walks quietly into their room in case Stiles is still sleeping, but now the footsteps bring him to full alertness in a second. As he sits up the sheet slides down, revealing Stiles bare chest, only a few smears of blood left. Derek places his hand over Stiles’ heart where the puncture marks have almost faded. “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want this.”
Stiles puts his hands over Derek and gives him a hard look. “I wanted to live. And I gave you permission a long time ago.”
Derek tries to hold his eyes, but can’t. “It still wasn’t what you wanted.”
For today’s print imagine an Au where stiles has a rock collection and he’ll go out into the woods to find new rocks and forage in general and one day he sees a wolf and the next time he’s in the forest the wolf has brought him the most beautiful rock stiles has ever seen, and he continues to bring stiles gifts when he goes to the woods. (The wolf is Derek courting stiles)
You said you’re watching teen wolf... do you like sterek? (If you want to know more about the ship there’s an aretheygay video on it and a mountain of very good fanfic) if you don’t that’s cool, but I figured I’d ask bc i love it
I’m like 8 episodes into season one with NO SPOILERS OR PRIOR KNOWLEDGE OF THE SHOW/FANDOM WHATSOEVER WHICH IS SUPER FUN
But my roommate has seen them all and she’s been watching it with me, and at that one part where Stiles is in the car with a ‘dying’ Derek, I was like
... . . . --- is it ok if i ship them --
anD MY ROOMMATE SAID ‘OMG YES THEY’RE CALLED STEREK, THATS LIKE THE BIGGEST SHIP’ -
For the “I wish you would write a fic where” you’ve written fics kind of similar before but if you wrote a fic with established hale pack 2.0 where Derek and stiles were true mates I would die. Also for the “favorite fics” of yours “better that I break the window” and “bring on the monsters” have a special place in my heart. It’s hard to choose tho since I haven’t read all your fics yet.
Hi new friend!
No worries for not reading all the fics. I know there are many (so many!). Still really cool to hear about your favorites though. Always nice to hear that people still enjoy some of the older fics. Can’t believe it’s been like 2 years since I wrote “Better that I break the window”.
Oh man, I love mate fic. I just need to find the right prompt for that, but I’m definitely contemplating writing something with Hale Pack and true mates Sterek for @averysterekwinter in January. Though that would be werewolf Stiles. (Also, feel free to tell me more about your fave Hale pack 2.0 characters so that I can make sure I get the best pack going for that one!).
