Fiction Recs

Derek/Stiles
34,214 words

“Don’t worry about it,” the sheriff said again. “You usually gush about Derek, so why don’t we focus more on that instead?”

Stiles let out a small laugh, shaking his head and taking another bite of his food. He’d been ranting and raving about the noise complaint all day, first to Scott, and now to his father. He supposed it was time to let the topic die and move on to something else.

“I’d love the opportunity to speak to him more often, but he’s always running around doing things, and he’s such a busy guy.” Stiles shrugged. “He’s in charge of four buildings, and with over fifty apartments apiece, I don’t know how he has enough time to stay sane.”

“Even he gets time off,” his dad argued. “If you want to get to know him, just ask him out to coffee.”

“I can’t just ask him out to coffee,” Stiles insisted, appalled. “Do you know what the dating scene is like nowadays? Brutal. Brutal, dad! Remember Lydia?”

“Lydia was out of your league,” his father argued with a small smile.

Derek/Stiles
53,246 words

“Can you hear me singing in the shower?” Stiles blurted out, because he had to know, now. If one of his neighbors had slid that note under his door, then it meant Parrish as another neighbour could hear him, too! He had to know if this was all a huge joke and one person had walked by and overheard him and decided to fuck with him.

Or if everyone could hear him and he now had to leave the country.

Parrish gave him a weird look at the question, but answered anyway, making Stiles’ plans to leave the country speed up in his mind.

“Of course I can. You’re actually not bad. Though you have been singing a lot of Frozen lately, getting kind of tired of the soundtrack.”

“Oh my God!” Stiles shouted in his face.

Derek/Stiles
17,984 words

Finally, against his better judgement, and having gone in circles for much too long, he blurted out, “Who is my soulmate?”

The Witch looked disappointed, like he’d fucked up. Like he’d fucked up bad.

But she answered anyway.

“Mischief.”

Derek stared at her, not understanding, because what? “That’s not a name,” he insisted.

“Not exactly, no.” She offered him a small smile.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

Derek/Stiles
33,681 words

He could hear the others talking outside, Scott and Isaac freaking out over something and Stiles snapping at them to shut up and help him get inside.

“Dude, how the fuck can you expect me to stay calm right now! Seriously, that’s a fucking tail!”

“We can talk about it later, just get me inside before someone fucking sees me! I don’t want to end up in a fucking aquarium!”

“Christ, you’re heavy!” Isaac grunted. “How much does this thing weigh?!”

“Shut up and walk,” Stiles snapped.

Derek/Stiles
6,455 words

To save money while attending college in NYC, Stiles and Derek decide to rent one tiny apartment together. With one bed.

Deucalion/Stiles, Peter/Stiles
25,908 words

Stiles isn't sure what he was thinking when he accepted both Peter and Deucalion's offer to take part in a courting ritual.

Peter/Stiles
11,250 words

Stiles opens his mouth a few times, but no words come out as he feels tears welling up again. He takes a deep, shaky breath, exhales slowly to calm himself enough to do this.
Peter waits, brows furrowed in worry as he watches Stiles.
“I think I’m pregnant,” he finally says, “And I don’t know what to do.”
--
Or the one where Stiles is a human incubator and Peter is not the baby daddy (until he is).

Derek/Stiles
69,062 words

“It was an accident!” Stiles continued, trying desperately to explain that this was all a huge misunderstanding and that the Demon clearly had to cut him some slack here.

It didn’t seem like he would be getting his wish, because the Demon’s annoyance melted into frustrated incredulity and he said dryly, “You summoned me by accident.”

“Yes!” Stiles insisted.

“How is that even possible? How do you accidentally summon a Demon?”

“You know, by accident!” Stiles argued.

“So you accidentally drew the summoning sigil into the floor, and you accidentally had an offering available, and you accidentally stood in the circle while accidentally reading the summoning spell?” the Demon asked dryly.

Okay, well when it was said like that, Stiles could understand the skepticism.

Derek/Stiles
15,980 words

“Stiles, I’m serious, I need a favor.”

“That sounds like a trap,” Stiles Stilinski muttered sleepily into both his pillows. “You know,” he continued when the man in his room made no move to leave, “you’d think I’d be used to this. My dad, coming into my room, smacking my ass to get me out of bed, waking me up at the ass crack of dawn—”

“It’s almost one.”

“—waking me up at the ass crack of one,” Stiles continued without missing a beat, “and asking for a favour. Given my life growing up with you, you’d think I’d be used to this by now. I think the reason this hits so hard now is that I specifically bought my own apartment so that you couldn’t wake me up at the ass crack of dawn—”

“Stiles, it’s almost one.”

“—so that you couldn’t wake me up at the ass crack of one.”

Derek/Stiles
25,419 words

Stiles becomes a Host for a dragon symbiote under difficult circumstances, then has to learn to live with her in his head. Meanwhile, there's a secret society after him at the same time the Alpha pack threatens everyone in town.

Derek/Stiles
35,197 words

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered."

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly.

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding:



DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

Derek/Stiles
24,028 words

"Yo," Scott said, eyes wide. "Was that Derek in your room?"

Stiles groaned and smacked his forehead, mostly because Scott was too far away to smack and he didn't really need a broken hand from punching the wall on top of everything.

"Wait," Scott said, his face impossibly close to the webcam. "Is Derek your soul mate?!"

Derek/Stiles
113,736 words

"And then there was pain again, but this time it was in only three places—his arm, below his clavicle, and next to his heart, all on the left side. It felt like the skin was being sliced apart, ripped open, flayed off—
And suddenly it was done.
Derek looked across the room and saw the boy on the floor, looking about as bad as Derek felt."

Derek and Stiles learn that bonding is probably best done with ridiculous amounts of video games and maybe a little bit of time.

Deucalion/Peter/Stiles
22,318 words

Stiles' day starts with a no-show barista, and a few too many fancy drink requests. Two werewolves swoop in to take it in a completely different direction.

He's always had a thing for British accents.

Derek/Stiles
58,286 words

“Derek,” Stiles thunders. “Were you ever going to tell me your house is trying to hook us up?”

Derek's head snaps up, eyes wide and scenting the evident crackle of magic in the air.

Or the one where spark!Stiles moves into an enchanted apartment block owned by a grumpy alpha and is completely oblivious to the building's efforts to matchmake them.

Derek/Stiles
15,299 words

“Excuse me, what do you mean he’s the fiftieth customer?” the woman demanded angrily.

“I mean he’s the fiftieth customer,” the barista said cheerfully.

“But I arrived after him.”

“You certainly did, but you ordered before him, didn’t you?” The look he shot her at those words could’ve flayed the skin from her bones. “As such, you are customer number forty-nine. He is customer number fifty. Your drink will be ready over on the far counter, ma’am.”

Chris/Peter/Stiles
2,435 words

Chris hates Allerdale University quite a lot for someone who has its logo on the back of his car.

Derek/Stiles
5,227 words

“He told me he understood, and that he was happy we were both happy, and that if I hurt you he knew how to kill a Werewolf and where to hide a body.”

Stiles paused in his task of spooning rice onto one of the plates, giving Derek a weird look. “My dad had a similarly confusing discussion with me this morning,” he admitted.

“Yeah, I’m not sure I understand what he was talking about.”

They stared at one another for a long while in silence.

“Dude,” Stiles finally said. “Does my dad think we’re dating?”

“Is that what that was?” Derek asked.

Peter/Stiles
3,982 words

He lays in bed for a minute longer staring at his phone before pulling up Peter's number and dialing. “Next time you play at being a professional asshole can you do it later in the day?” he says as soon as Peter answers. “It's too early in the morning to deal with Scott’s hysterics.”

He gets a warm chuckle in return. “Poor Scott. He was quite devastated to find he wasn’t God's gift to women.” Another soft laugh, and it shouldn’t make warmth curl in Stiles’s belly the way it does. Peter’s a terrible person, he reminds himself. Why else would he volunteer to have unpleasant conversations for fun?

Stiles remembers why he called. ‘“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I think Scott got the message, once he got over being butthurt,” Stiles says. “So good job. Maybe you should start a business doing this, telling people shit they don’t want to hear.”

Peter hums speculatively. “You know, maybe I will.”

Derek/Stiles
11,573 words

“You did a favour for a stranger?” the sheriff asked, surprised. “You won’t even do a favour for me.”

“Your favours involve chocolate and salty snacks, damn straight I won’t do you any favours,” Stiles insisted, pointing an accusatory finger at his dad while leaning back against the counter, taking another large sip of coffee. “Some guy lost his phone and was calling it hoping someone would answer. That someone was me. He said he’d had some drinks and couldn’t come grab it right then, so we agreed to meet at the station this morning. I didn’t realize ‘this morning’ meant the ass crack of dawn.”

“It’s not the ass crack of dawn, that was at five thirty-seven, according to the weather app on my phone.”

Stiles let out a sarcastic laugh and flipped his dad off. The sheriff gave him a look, but he didn’t reprimand him, clearly able to tell Stiles was miserable.

Peter/Stiles
3,540 words

Peter’s gaze is drawn to a long-limbed boy sitting at the end of the table, twirling a breadstick between obscenely long fingers. He has dark, haphazard hair, pale skin, and beauty marks peppering his face and neck. His head is thrown back in a laugh and the line of his throat is long and tempting. Peter wonders what that throat looks like when the boy swallows, and if he’ll make pretty noises when Peter feeds him. He imagines, just for a second, his fingers slipping between those lips, feeling them hot and wet around him.

That one, then.