Fiction Recs

Derek/Stiles
3,070 words

Stiles doesn't know how he gets roped into things like this. Things like Brunch Club, where every Wednesday morning his girl friends invite him to brunch. He goes, because Lydia always pays and who is he to give up free brunch? But it’s always just the girls, and him. He feels like they’re pulling him into the girl group just because he finally came out as bisexual with an overwhelming preference to dudes.

or the one where Stiles is having brunch with the girls, and he's the one to snag the number from the hot waiter.

Derek/Stiles
14,242 words

“What would we call it?” Stiles asked, ignoring Scott. “Like, it’d have to be catchy, it’s gonna be hard to market.”

“Call a Dick,” Jackson said immediately.

“Dude, we can’t market a business with the word ‘dick’ in it, that’s not gonna fly. No one will print that. And what are we gonna do, emblazon the side of the building with a huge penis?” Stiles had to admit, it would be hilarious, but probably taken down by the city relatively quickly.

“It’s clear, it’s concise, it explains exactly what we offer.”

“It can’t have the word dick in it, Jackson,” Stiles insisted with a sigh, leaning back and thinking on it.

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
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
3,451 words

‘Get a dog, or get a therapist.’ A dog had to be less annoying.