Derek would know the sound of Stiles Stilinski’s Jeep anywhere, but it was still a surprise to see it pulling down the dirt road to the compound in Mexico where he and Cora had been living for the last year. 

“Stiles,” Derek said with a smile when the Jeep stopped, “How have you been?”

“Get in loser, we have a town to help save,” Stiles said with a wide smile that Derek knew meant trouble, “again.”

“What happened this time,” Derek asked as Stiles put the car in park and hopped out. He was taller and broader than he had been the last time Derek had seen him, he looked more settled. He looked good.

“How the hell should I know, it feels like there’s some new crisis every couple months and they keep getting more and more outrageous,” Stiles said, “So you want to come help or what?”

“Sure,” Derek said, looking at Cora who shot him a knowing look, it clearly told him that she knew what was motivating him to go back, “Let me grab some clothes.”

Twenty minutes later Derek hugged Cora goodbye and got into the passenger seat of the Jeep. The gearshift whined when Stiles changed from second to third, but the car kept going.

“I can’t believe this thing is still alive and kicking,” Derek said with fondness in his voice. The Jeep (and Stiles) had saved his life more than once, he would never forget that.

Stiles flicked him on the let and said, “Roscoe has only ever been nice to you, show him some respect.”

“Of course,” Derek said with a smile, “I owe him my life after all. Both of you.”

The look Stiles gave him was appraising, like he wasn’t sure if Derek was being serious, but when he spoke he said, “I think we’re even at this point.”

“If you say so,” Derek said, flipping on the radio to fill the quiet.

“I do,” Stiles said, looking at Derek again and making his stomach flip. 

After a long moment Derek said, “When this is all over, we could thank each other over dinner.”

“Or we could thank each other at the motel we’re saying at tonight,” Stiles said with a smirk, like he was expecting Derek to blush and change the subject.

“I could thank you all night long if you want,” Derek said and Stiles blushed, his mouth opening in shock, “But I think we should get some sleep when we get there, if I know Beacon Hills at all, we’re in for a long fight.”

When it was all over and the dust settled, Stiles thanked Derek and Derek thanked Stiles. 

All night and well into the morning, in several different positions. When they left Beacon Hills a week later, neither of them looked back.

Sightseeing in Rome and Stiles and Derek visit the Bocca della Verità, Stiles is messing around and really enjoying freaking out because it just so happens the mask does have some actual supernatural connections and Derek doesn’t know that Stiles knows, but all Stiles really ends up doing is placing his hand in the mouth - which is actually a harmless thing, humans don’t know shit (and no Stiles is not just a mere human, he’s a human with a spark) - and telling Derek “ask me if I love you”

Derek stares at him confused, touched by the gesture in a weird way and feeling his cheeks flush. “What are you doing?”

“Ask me if I love you and I can only tell you the truth”

Derek is about to argue because he knows Stiles loves him because Stiles has let it slip out, in many moments, more of a casual thing like when Derek had made him homemade curly fries after a long day, and his heart beat had been true and steady. Derek isn’t used to these kind of cheesy, romantic gestures, he’d never been in a relationship like this one with Stiles, and come on, this is pretty overdone, being half way across the world in an old city, using a ridiculous old myth, and is he really worth that much?

But before he had figured out how to react, Stiles’ affection had burrowed through his walls and straight to his heart and he found himself smiling despite himself. Derek takes his own hand to place it on top of Stiles’ in the mask’s mouth and intertwines their fingers and he watches Stiles’ eyes start shining as he grins, as if he knows just what Derek is about to say, as if he knows Derek’s finally stopped blaming himself and being afraid that he would just bring terrible things with him

And for the first time Derek says it out loud, “I love you.”

StreamWeek - Day 1

From @nogitsunelichen: “Yay stream week! So for a prompt: sterek. I’ve been so into like futuristic settings. So my idea is; Stiles is a tech guy or something(?) and Derek is like a humanoid cyborg of some sort(?)”

Sterek AU: Stiles’ first mission working with the FBI includes one alpha Peter Hale, the trafficking of very dangerous and very illegal species of Wolfsbane and the Alpha’s nephew who just so happens to also be Stiles’ ex boyfriend Miguel. (When “Miguel” told him he worked with plants, Stiles probably shouldn’t have assumed he meant regular flowers.)

“Mr. Stilinski,“ Agent Hale’s voice drew Stiles out of his trance.

Get it together Stilinski.

“Do I have to continuously remind you that while you might be one of the brightest in the class, you still do not have the authority nor will I tolerate class disruption or slacking off.” Kaleidoscopic eyes bore down on him.

“Now tell me, who is the person of interest”

“You are sir.” Stiles regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, he slapped his hand to his mouth in a desperate attempt to shove them back in his mouth.

His peers surrounding him broke out in groans and giggles, but Stiles couldn’t tear his gaze away from Hale’s. A perfectly sculpted eyebrow was raised along with a hint of a smirk.

“Give it arrest, Stilinski” he muttered, as he left Stiles’s desk to return teaching the seminar leaving Stiles’s jaw involuntarily open.

Sterek Baseball AU-

Derek Hale was a free agent at the end of the season, and moved from the cold streets of Boston, Massachusetts to the warm sunny city of Los Angeles, California. Not only did he find himself with a team who didn’t tease him for his pre-pitch dance, but he found himself falling hard for a mouthy first baseman by the name of Stilinski.

written with the lovely prettyashale

Sterek Hellboy AU

I’m blaming @dexterous-sinistrous for this.

“Hey,” Derek softly called to Stiles as he walked further into the library, making his presence known.

Stiles turned to look at Derek, setting the book in his hand down. “Hey,” he answered, taking a small step away from the table.

“I’m coming with you,” Derek stated, wanting Stiles to know that he was willing to fight with him. “And it’s not just because … because of Claudia. It’s because you’re going. I wanted you to know that,” he explained.

Stiles faintly nodded, placing his hands on his hips as he stared down at the ground. “I want to say something before you tell McCall that you’re coming,” he answered as he looked up at Derek.

“Okay,” Derek replied, a small reassurance that he wanted Stiles to continue. Stiles nodded. He looked at the large tank housed on the opposite side of the library, almost wishing Lydia was still floating around in there to voice her own opinion. “I understand what you don’t like about me.”

Derek started to shake his head, about to argue.

“I do, Derek,” Stiles pushed. “Everything that I am makes you feel out of place. When you’re out there in the world.”

“Stiles, I don’t—”

“Derek, please,” Stiles softly pleaded. “I’ve written this down and thrown it away so many times. Please, just let me get this out before I run away.” Derek frowned, nodding in acceptance.

“When we’re in here, I’m a little more normal than our average guest,” Stiles continued. “But out there,” he sucked in a sharp breath, holding back his grief as he spoke next. “I wasn’t even allowed to attend my mother’s funeral.” Derek took a step forward, reaching a hand out for Stiles.

Stiles looked up at Derek, a sad expression falling over him. “I’m not like Allison,” he offered, having seen the way Derek and her seemed to start off rocky before becoming closer. “McCall’s right—I’m not human. I’ll never be, no matter how many times I grind these down,” he gestured towards the stumps where his horns slowly grew back every day. “I can never make you feel like you belong out there. Anyone else could, which is good. Really.” He wanted Derek to understand his sincerity. “I wish,” his voice cracked as he tried to say it.

Derek’s features frowned as he watched Stiles turn his head away.

“I wish I could do something about this,” Stiles softly explained as he gestured towards his face. “But I can’t.” He managed to steel his nervous, looking up at Derek. “But I can promise you two things. One, that I’ll always look this good.”

Derek faintly chuckled, a small smirk pulling across his lips as he dipped his chin.

“And two,” Stiles prompted, reaching out to capture Derek’s chin in his hand. He needed Derek to look at him—he needed to see the understanding in his eyes. “I’ll never give up on you.”

Derek looked at Stiles. He reached his hand up, his open palm cupping Stiles’ cheek. He ran his thumb along the curve of Stiles’ cheekbone. “I like that,” he barely whispered as he pulled Stiles into a hug, pressing his face into the crook of Stiles’ shoulder. He was still afraid of the fear that twisted in his stomach when he thought of loving Stiles more than what he allowed himself to feel. He was still afraid of losing control.

“You can’t hurt me, Derek,” Stiles answered Derek’s unspoken fear, wrapping his arms tightly around him. “McCall was wrong—I have a heart and you can hurt me that way, but … I’m fireproof, Derek. And no matter what happens, no matter how much progress or how many set backs occur, I’m going to always be here—always.”

“Just let me talk to you for a second…”

Excuse me as I go vomit sadness.

Days later Derek still feels guilty. He hates seeing Stiles that way - hurt and trying to hide it, trying to be stoic because of him.

Derek sees Stiles walking down the sidewalk (and it’s not stalking, Derek’s just sitting in the Camero outside of Stiles’ house to keep an eye on things, like any good Alpha would). Stiles reaches into his pocket for his keys and Derek hears a small, sad sigh. A piece of his shriveled, aching heart breaks off and plunges into his stomach.

Since that night, the memories come too easily. Derek sees Kate naked in the twilight; feels her fingers trail up and down his ribs; hears her voice, low, as she murmurs in his ear. He tells her he loves her and she smiles, wicked and wide, and climbs over him again.

Derek’s out of the car before he has time to second guess it, and Stiles flails into the doorjamb when he hops onto the porch. The sudden acrid spike of fear takes hold of Stiles’ normal scent, and Derek rubs his nose as though he can wipe it away along with his guilt.

“Um, Derek, dude, I’m sure the looming thing is great for the pack but personal space is, you know, a thing. For humans.”

Derek frowns and grumbles, “I’m not looming,” even though the way his body deflates is just a little contradictory.

“You’re like a puffer fish,” Stiles says, and while the scent of fear is fading, the lightness is gone from his voice and his face is tired, strained.

Derek rubs the back of his neck. This was a mistake.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I’ll just…” and he turns to leave.

He gets one foot on the first step when Stiles groans, loud and exasperated. “Derek, I get it. Okay? And I’m not gonna get into it, but last I checked, I get to choose what to call whatever the hell I’m feeling.”

When Derek turns around, Stiles’ lips are pursed and his nostrils flared and he looks so fucking perfect even when he’s irritated. Derek’s heart shrinks two more sizes while the lump in his throat grows double.

He swallows. It doesn’t help. There’s nothing comfortable about hard truths.

“Feelings like that don’t matter when you’re sixteen.”

Stiles’ face softens and Derek watches, unsure, as he reaches out a hand. What Stiles does, what Derek is not expecting, is take Derek’s hand. He watches as Stiles intertwines their fingers - gently, like he’s trying not to spook the Alpha of Beacon Hills. Derek looks back up as Stiles tugs him forward, skin warm and heart beating steady.

“Come on,” Stiles says, opening the door. “Have a sandwich and tell me all the reasons they don’t matter. Then promise me you’ll listen when I tell you all the reasons she was wrong.”

Sterek AU | based on the fic It’s been like years since it’s been clear

Summary: It’s six-thirty in the morning, but there are warm lights behind the floor-to-ceiling, de-boarded windows, and the ‘For Sale’ sign on the door has disappeared along with Stiles’ memory of where he’d been headed just moments before. The coffee shop is, apparently, open for business once more.

Commission for Bettiebloodshed through the sterekcampaign, who asked for Mer!Stiles and Beta!Derek.

This was so much fun to do! I have been wanting to do a TW Mer!Au for a while now, and when Bettiebloodshed used it as her prompt I was so excited to draw it! She has been kind enough to let me post a high-res version of this, for people who’d like to use it as their desktop. I’ll be posting that soon.

Sterek - Teen Wolf, 2013 commission.

what are these dunkasses even doing