AU » Four Stones
In a time of war, Captain Stilinski became the youngest ever commander of a US space exploration vehicle, the title having been passed down to him from his deceased father. Long after the war ends, he and his crew still drift aimlessly across the galaxy, decreasing supplies and no home to return to after the carnage took their earth. Their luck plummets further when they veer into an alien vessel carrying a species they’ve never seen before - part human, part wolf. The ship’s aggressive captain, Derek Hale, attempts to board their ship and commandeer their supplies, his own crew rabid and hungry after weeks without a meal. But Captain Stilinski won’t watch any more of his family die. For his crew, he will go to war once again.
sterek » stiles can teleport places au
For Sterek Week! Friday: Sterek AU
Derek steps down onto the beach, his dogs already far ahead of him. The wind is biting and grey is settling in but he’s not going to let the weather stop his daily routine. Sand moves under his feet and he notices a man wandering over the beach, hands in his pockets and his whole body shivering.
His dogs rush around the man’s ankles, excited for some human contact other than Derek. Not many people come to this place and he’s not even sure how the man got here. Derek watches as the figure bends down to pet his dogs, and as Derek drifts closer he smells the breath of magic on the man.
It hits him hard and his own eyes start to burn with colour involuntarily. The man freezes, standing straight, and his pretty pink lips part in terror. His face goes pale and waves of his scent hit Derek’s nose. It’s flooded with the prickle of magic and anxiety. Then the man is gone.
Derek’s dogs rush up and bark at his heels, moving around excitedly at the man’s sudden disappearance. He feels like he should be worried. No one comes to this part of the coast and the closest town is two hours away. The last time he was around something supernatural his family died, but now Derek doesn’t have anything to lose or the energy to care. The man seemed to think Derek would do more harm to him, anyway.
It’s another month before he sees the man again. This time he’s scrambling through sandy bush, swearing whenever his hands swipe against the cutting grass. Derek clears his throat. The man darts his head up and his warm, amber eyes stare back. He slips and falls on his backside.
“What are you doing here?” Derek says, unfriendly.
He licks his lips, and his heart is thrumming. “Are you – are you magic too?”
Derek’s eyes threaten to glow blue again. He’s anticipated the dance of magic that falls off the young man so he has a better grip on his control. Derek steps forward, his eyes narrow. He doesn’t want anyone falling into his territory and he curls his lips, revealing his fangs. Derek lifts his hands, his claws lengthening and blue pierces the man. Hair begins to cover his face and Derek smells a bit of fear, hears a small squeak, and then the man is pulled into the air and he’s gone.
“I’m Stiles,” he says, and this time he’s right by Derek’s small cottage, hidden behind rows of trees. Derek snarls at him but the effect is lost when one of his dogs runs to Stiles’ legs and starts trying to lick his hands and knees.
“Go away,” Derek tells him.
“I can’t, not by will,” he says, inching closer. Derek would’ve hoped that because he’s got an axe in hand that the guy would be wary and hopefully run away. He’s a sweaty, angry, lonely man, and though he’s chopping wood he probably satisfies the image of an axe murderer.
Stiles doesn’t run away.
“I’ve never met anyone,” he clears his throat. “Different.”
Derek has a burst of sympathy start up inside him but he tears it down instantly. He goes back to throwing his axe against the log and he only stops when he hears a loud chuckle.
“Didn’t think you’d be the kind of person to have pink flowers on their window sill,” Stiles says at him.
Derek glares. The flowers had been his mother’s favourite, and he’s only ever seen them grow in this part of the country. “What do you want?” he snaps.
Stiles shrugs, looking away. His lips look cracked. “Answers.”
“Well I can’t give them to you,” Derek says gruffly. He turns back to his small cottage and hopes by the time he’s used his pathetic little shower that Stiles will be gone. When he goes back outside, his dog is whining at a spot that smells like magic and smells like Stiles.
He returns from the grocery store, his beat up truck trailing up the dirt of his driveway. It’s dark by the time he gets back and when he steps inside all of his lights are on. Derek smells him everywhere, like he’s gone around and poked in all of Derek’s things.
His kitchen is even emptier than when he left it and the larger of his two dogs comes down the stairs and immediately starts to press its side against Derek’s legs. Derek bends down and runs his hands through his dog’s coat, accepting a wet kiss from the only company he gets these days, and then he moves down the hallway. He’s surprised to find that Stiles didn’t step into his bedroom.
It takes more than a few days before his scent has left the cottage completely.
[for bree, who was feeling sick today]
Stiles wakes up, and his head is pounding viciously inside his head, and it’s way too bright. He flops over, reaching to grab a pillow, but meets a warm, solid chest instead.
Stiles blinks. He’s not in his bedroom, he realizes immediately. This is— this is Derek’s loft. Derek’s bed.
And that’s Derek, sleeping next to him, bare chest rising and falling. Stiles looks down at himself; he’s wearing only his boxer shorts. Is Derek also—? Stiles picks up the blanket, and sees a broad expanse of skin and quickly sets it down, heart pounding.
Okay, okay, so Derek is naked and Stiles is almost ….just what happened last night?
Sterek AU: The Hale Farm Pumpkin Patch - Derek’s family runs Fall festivals on their farm, where they sell pumpkins, host pumpkin carving contests, and give hayrides. No one knows that Derek’s been secretly dating one the seasonal employees, Stiles (and stealing kisses (and more) out in the woods).
graphic (and au idea) by foreverblue-navy
Derek loves fall. He loves the colors in the trees, all the bright reds, golds, and oranges surrounding him, the crunch of leaves beneath his boots, the crisp chill in the air. Loves Halloween and Thanksgiving, and the anticipation of Christmas. But mostly, he loves working in the pumpkin patch on the Hale Farms’ Fall Fun Days.
After loading a bunch of large pumpkins in the back of an SUV, Derek walks back into the pumpkin patch where two little girls are looking through the mini pumpkins. He crouches behind them, and they turn to glance at him shyly.
“See one you like?” Derek asks, giving the oldest a soft smile. She grins at him as her sister eyes him warily.
“This one,” she says, picking up a tiny orange pumpkin. Her hand is so small it covers her entire palm.
“I think that’s a good choice,” Derek nods, then flicks his gaze to the sister. “What about you?” The little girl stares at Derek for a moment before grabbing a white baby pumpkin. “Do you know what my grandpa calls those?” he asks. The little girls shake their heads. “Baby boos.” The girls giggle, and Derek grins as they run off to their mother.
“If you treated all the customers that way, you’d sell five times as many pumpkins.” Derek stands and glares at Laura. She’s got her arms crossed, sleeves rolled up to her elbows despite the cold air.
“I don’t like people,” Derek growls.
“Those two girls are people.”
“I don’t like big people.” Laura rolls her eyes before turning to help a customer. A hand lands on Derek’s shoulder, and he looks over to see his grandfather smiling out at the large pumpkin patch. Pumpkins are set out and stacked as far as the eye can see. Large pumpkins, tiny pumpkins, carving pumpkins, smooth and bumpy gourds, butternut and acorn squash. The Hales have been selling pumpkins in this spot since right after the depression, back when his grandfather’s father was a boy.
“You’re just like your grandma,” Grandpa says, turning to give Derek a smile. “She loves hard, but she doesn’t like anyone.”
“I like people,” Derek protests, and his grandfather raises an eyebrow in disbelief. “Some people,” he amends.
“Only those worth liking, right?” Grandpa asks. “It’s okay. You choose wisely and guard your heart. That’s a good trait.”
Derek nods, though he’s wondering why his grandpa has turned into some kind of fortune cookie in the middle of a pumpkin patch with people all around. His grandpa has always been weird like that.
They’re interrupted when a loud squeak followed by “OHMIGOD NO!” erupts in the middle of the patch. One of the seasonal hires, Stiles, has tripped and fallen onto his back; his arms, however, are wrapped protectively around the pumpkin he was carrying. “I’m okay!” Stiles calls out like everyone cares. “My behind is broken, but the pumpkin is not.”
Grandpa laughs and gives Derek a look before pushing him towards Stiles. Derek tries to hide his blush as he schools his features into a scowl. “Are you trying to break all the pumpkins?” Derek snaps.
“Dude, it was totally an accident. Moonfang tripped me. On purpose.” Derek gives Stiles a withering look. Stiles looks around, arms still around the huge pumpkin in his lap, and speaks to a nearby small boy. “You saw it, right? Back me up.” The boy just looks at Stiles like he’s crazy.
A moment later, a black cat curls itself around Derek’s feet. He bends down and lifts the cat, who starts purring as soon as Derek cradles it to his chest. “Moonfang, are you tripping Stiles?” Derek nuzzles the cat then glowers at Stiles. “The cat didn’t trip you. You just apparently should be cleaning the bathrooms instead of selling pumpkins.”
“Please,” Stiles says, nearly falling over again as he gets to his feet while trying to balance the oversized pumpkin. “No one else, not even you Derek, could save a pumpkin like me.” Derek rolls his eyes and sets Moonfang on the ground.
“Go give the lady her pumpkin before we have to refund her money and take it out of your paycheck.”
Stiles walks by Derek and says, “You have no appreciation for my awesome pumpkin ninja-ness.” He sticks out his tongue, and Derek tries not to stare. It’s hard when Stiles follows that by swiping his tongue over his bottom lip. There are crumbs at the corner of his mouth, and crumbs and a smear of orange icing on the blue plaid flannel shirt he’s wearing. Derek wants to lean in and kiss the corners of that mouth, chase the taste of cinnamon and spice. Stiles catches him staring and smirks, and Derek glares despite his burning ears.
[sexual tension intensifies]
I like to imagine derek coming home one day to find a barefoot pajama clad stiles curled up in his bed, asleep.
i dont care what the story is about
that is all i need
Prompt from Anon: Stiles brushing Wolf!Derek’s pelt and putting a ribbon on him. *♥_♥*