Fiction Recs

Derek/Stiles
47,831 words

Derek met his soulmate Kate Argent when he was 15, and he's tried for years to understand why his soulmate is so cruel to him. Then he meets Stiles Stilinski, who has no soulmate mark, an extremely rare phenomenon. Stiles thinks that he's destined to be alone forever, but apparently fate has other plans...

Chris/Peter/Stiles
111,290 words

Stiles had heard the stories. Everybody had. Soulmates were a gift. They were the perfect match for you. To separate them was a fate worse than death. When Stiles' mother died, his father had a hard time coping. Stiles hated it. He hated the stories. He hated how obsessed people were. So he came up with a plan.
Of course, that is when Peter says the words that were branded on him. Then, not too long later a hunter says another line which is hidden elsewhere on Stiles' body.

Chris/Peter/Stiles
1,724 words

It was the end of his shift, almost midnight, when Chris heard the call over the scanner for a suicide attempt in progress. The code itself sounded more dramatic than it was, for all they knew a driver had spotted a drunk kid on the abandoned bridge and assumed the worst, it wouldn't be the first time, and as concerned as everyone sounded when they called in these kinds of code, they never stuck around to see if the person was okay.

It was fine. It was on his way home. He'd swing by, talk the boy into climbing back over, like he has a handful of people before until he called it a night.

He never expected it to be anything more than that.

Deucalion/Stiles
4,480 words

Your soulmate's name is on your wrist from the day you both draw breath on this earth, only to burn away into blackness when death takes them.

In Beacon Hills, nothing is that easy.

Especially for Stiles.

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.”

Peter/Stiles
12,103 words

At 34, Peter is more than a little frustrated not to have met his Soul-Match yet, but he's not quite ready to give up on finding the person who owns the unusual name inked onto his skin. Not until he meets Mścisław, anyway. The barely-legal teen isn't his Soul-Match, but Peter isn't so sure that matters anymore...

At 18, Stiles is finally able to attend Soul-Match Mixers, and he's thrilled to do just that. Stiles is beyond eager to find his Soul-Match; to find the man who's name is inked onto his skin. There is nothing Stiles wants more than the person Fate has chosen just for him...except, possibly, for Peter Hale. He's not Stiles' Soul-Match, but maybe - just maybe - that's not important, after all.

~*~*~*~

Sometimes, what we think we want and what we actually want are two very different things. Sometimes, they're not as different as we think they are. It's all a matter of perspective. And hey, perspectives can change, too...

Chris/Peter/Stiles
27,655 words

Most people don't discover their destined other half until eighteen, when their soulmate tattoo appears. But Stiles is special—he's always been special. At least that's what his mother used to tell him before she went bat-shit crazy and left him with the gift passed down through generations of her family.

Stiles' soulmate is a bit older—by maybe fifteen years or so. And he's handsome. And smart. And witty. Stiles has never been so happy.

And that feeling lasts for nearly two minutes.

Because Stiles' next vision is of his own death.

Peter/Stiles
12,356 words

Peter was damn near ready to pull his hair out.

That scent, that fucking scent, was still haunting him. It was all over the campus and it should have been child's play to find the source. Instead he was chasing his own tail more than anything, going 'round in circles and never finding what should have been a goddamn two-by-four in a pile of sand. It left him frustrated and half-feral, always a hairs-breadth from losing what had once been impeccable control. He hid that as best he could - a werewolf without a pack couldn't afford any real slip-ups - but he'd sent more than one co-ed fleeing from smiles that were more snarl than anything else.

Derek/Stiles
8,164 words

Derek reads the message twice just to be sure that he isn’t dreaming.

Help, it reads, accidntly kidnpd somr dudew

He takes a moment to compose his reply. What the hell Laura?

Or the one where Laura wakes him up in the middle of the night because she's kidnapped some random guy from the club and it turns out he's Derek's mate.

Derek/Stiles
23,455 words

As Stiles waits behind the camera during an interview, he thinks he should maybe quit. Because, in all honesty, despite the charming smile the actor is pulling out for EW, Derek Hale is kind of a jerk.

Peter/Stiles
46,327 words

There’s not much reason to talk. Sometimes, if he’s quiet enough he thinks his dad forgets him. If he’s quiet enough, and he hopes, Dad will walk right by. Those are good days.

-

Peter finds Stiles in the woods.

Chris/Peter/Stiles
72,249 words

John leaned forward slightly and looked at the marks. He jerked back and looked at Stiles. “You have two soulmates?” he asked incredulously.

Stiles’s eyes slipped over to Chris and Peter again and then he looked away. He nodded.

The Sheriff swore under his breath. “You said you didn’t know who your soulmate was,” John said. He sounded both confused and at the same time frustrated.

Stiles licked his lips and unconsciously took another step backwards. “That may have been inaccurate,” he replied softly.

Derek/Stiles
89,402 words

“Okay.” Stiles glanced at his phone, wincing at the battery being close to ten percent. It was probably time to call Scott. Turning off the flashlight, mostly to save battery and kind of freaking out over how dark it was—though the half-moon reflecting off the snow helped a bit—he opened his contacts with shaking hands and scrolled through to Scott’s name. Once he hit it, he put the phone to his ear, looking around, and froze.

The phone rang in his ear, but his eyes were locked on something big and moving through the trees.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

If that was a fucking bear, Stiles was fucked!

The line kept ringing and ringing, but Scott didn’t answer. Eventually his voicemail picked up and Stiles very slowly lowered the phone and hung up without looking, eyes still on the dark shape in the trees. He glanced down for only a second to turn on the flashlight function again, then lifted it ever so slowly upwards, and felt his breath freeze in his lungs.

It was a wolf.

It was a motherfucking wolf.

Peter/Stiles
15,162 words

Everyone is born with a matching mark. Someone to care about and for.

Stiles meets his the day after a serial killers burns his home to ground, his dad and mom inside. Social Services doesn't bother placing him in foster care, just snaps a picture, and puts it on the matching service.

He doesn't know what he expects from Peter and the rest of the Hales, but it certainly isn't a pack of wolves.

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
163,779 words

“Holy—shit,” Stiles breathed, Bacon stopping in what he was doing, still staring at him intently, as if begging him to understand, for someone to finally understand. Stiles felt like he’d been electrocuted and he leapt out of his chair, kneeling in front of Bacon and grabbing at his furry face. “Holy shit! Oh my God, are you—wait, holy—you’re not fucking with me, right?!”

Bacon let out two quick barks, which Stiles chose to interpret as ‘no.’

“Oh my God, are you a real person in there?!” Stiles shouted in the wolf’s face, staring him right in the eye. He was still holding the wolf’s head with both hands, but Bacon dipped his muzzle in confirmation and Stiles officially lost his mind.

“Oh my God!” he shouted again, releasing Bacon to clutch at his own hair. “Oh my God! Dude, for real?! You’re—holy shit! Holy shit!” He didn’t know how to react to this news. He had no fucking idea how to react. This was a person?! But how?! How was this a person?! People didn’t just turn into wolves!

Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
87,983 words

Peter looked at Stiles from the corner of his blue eyes and smirked. Stiles swore he saw a flash of red Peter’s eyes, but it might of have been his brain’s lack of oxygen making him hallucinate. “I’m looking for my soul mate. Christopher Argent. I believe he volunteered to be taken in for questioning.”

An iron fist clenched Stiles' heart. This man was Argent’s—Christopher’s soul mate?

Stiles stared at the Peter’s wrist, examining every detail of Peter's soul mark. Stiles couldn’t find anything different between his and the blond’s.

Stiles lifted his hand and ghosted his fingers along Peter’s forearm.

It was lightning all over again, and Stiles yanked his hand back, only to have it caught in an unbreakable grip.

Frosty blue eyes burrowed into Stiles', and he couldn’t stop himself from gulping. The smirk on Peter’s lips grew as the corner of his mouth quirked higher, and he drew Stiles’ hand close to his face.

Peter’s nostrils flared slightly as he stared at Stiles’ soul mark. He pulled Stiles forward, pressing soft lips to Stiles wrist.

“Now what would your name be?” Peter purred.

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
196,137 words

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

“Mike,” she argued.

“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

Derek/Stiles
135,402 words

It was like a door he’d nailed shut in his brain suddenly exploded open, all of his past confusion and anger and hurt and adoration flooding out at once. Stiles? Was it actually Stiles?!

Stiles, the guy he’d had a crush on for fucking years growing up. The guy who’d been an absolute dick to him their whole last year of high school.

The guy who’d told him he loved him in a dirty men’s bathroom on prom night while drunk and upset because he thought Kira was Derek’s girlfriend.

That Stiles? But it couldn’t be!

Derek/Stiles
68,366 words

“You’re late,” Derek informed him coldly, jaw clenched. He barely even moved his mouth to speak. This guy was seriously scary.

And because Stiles was suicidal, he said, “No, I’m Stiles.”

The look he got could’ve curdled milk. Stiles even noticed that Derek’s muscles were tensing, arms bulging even more and wow this guy was scary and hot but mostly scary holy shit.

“You’re not funny,” Derek informed him coldly.

Stiles shrugged. “I think that’s a matter of opinion.”

Peter/Stiles
54,096 words

All Stiles wanted to do was see his all time favorite band in person, and maybe perv on the drop-dead gorgeous singer, known only as H.
He doesn't expect H to pick him out of the crowd, and he certainly doesn't expect to be invited back to his hotel. But hey, when is he ever going to get a chance like this again? It'll be a one night stand and they'll never see each other again.
At least, that's what he thinks.

Derek/Stiles
17,241 words

Tall, dark and menacing -- Derek -- doesn’t do anything except for inch a little closer to Stiles. Stiles stares at his supposed soulmate at the movement.

Holy God.

Stiles must have saved a building of orphans and kittens and puppies in another life to get that as his soulmate. There’s muscle. More muscle than Stiles had been aware was capable and the guys on the lacrosse team were not shy about stripping down to only their shorts if Coach let them get away with it. Stiles has a healthy amount of muscle himself. Like, he’s reasonable toned. Not like Derek at all who was probably confused as a Celtic warrior from the past.

Stiles really, really wanted to touch Derek and unless Stiles was blind and dumb, Derek really, really wanted to touch Stiles too.

Chris/Peter/Stiles
109,895 words

For months, Chris would replay the following moments in his mind every night as he laid in bed and tried to fall asleep next to the warm body beside him, hands clutching for the one that was missing. He would try to figure out how he could be so careless.

Chris/Peter/Stiles
7,065 words

When Stiles followed the pull in his gut to track down his soulmate, it wasn't meant to end up with him breaking down in a storm, rolling down a slope in the preserve, and spraining his ankle. Still, at least his rescuer and his werewolf mate are nice to look at. More than nice.
Nigh irresistible in fact.
Stiles might have a slight problem here.
Fuck.

Derek/Stiles
1,396 words

The last thing Derek wanted in life was a soulmate -- especially one who thinks, What the fuck is that. That’s it. No question mark, no exclamation mark, nothing. Ever since the words -- the soulmark -- appeared on his inner wrist in tiny Times New Roman font, Derek was lost.

-

Or, the one where Derek finds his soulmate when Stiles storms into his shop because Jackson is being a dick.

Derek/Stiles
285,568 words

“Talia was just telling me an interesting story,” his dad informed him. Stiles didn’t have the nerve to glance over at him, because he knew no matter how much he argued, the proof was all there. The wolves had found him, Parrish had picked him up on the side of the road, he had a fucking picture on his phone. He was screwed. No point in arguing, all it’d do is piss his father off even more.

“You don’t say,” Stiles offered slowly. “What uh—you know, I like stories. Is it a uh, good one?”

“It seems to be a matter of opinion,” Talia said with another kind smile. “I hear you had quite the night last night.”

Okay, time to cut his losses. He was already fucked, all he could do was apologize and hope she didn’t press for him to get fined and arrested. Given he was her husband’s friend’s son, he had high hopes.

“I’m really sorry,” Stiles blurted out. “It was stupid and-and irresponsible and just—I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have crossed into your territory. I should’ve known better, I do know better! It was a complete lapse in judgement and I am just—I am so sorry.”

Peter/Stiles
5,322 words

He's ten when his soulmate slips into a coma. He's eleven when he sees his soulmate for the first time. He's sixteen when he actually meets his soulmate.

Derek/Stiles
9,376 words

Stiles is a prince with a secret lost in war.

Peter/Stiles
703 words

“So, are you in the habit of holding hands with strangers?” Stiles asked, taking off his glasses with his free hand.

“I can't say that I am,” the man said, and his voice was light. When he took off his glasses his eyes were a bright, clear blue that felt as though it was boring into Stiles' soul. “But I am in the habit of holding hands with my soulmate.”

Chris/Peter/Stiles
5,199 words

Stiles Stilinski isn't the typical swooning omega the old stories paint people of his status being. He also has the weirdest fucking soulmark ever, and watching yet another boyfriend stumble upon their soulmate is discouraging as fuck.

But maybe this time, it's a blessing in disguise? After all, he has to find a place to live, and there's an apartment available in one of the A/B/O buildings in town. He just doesn't count on the two alphas with a serious hardon for each other being his neighbors. Could it be that both of them also have weird soulmarks?

Peter/Stiles
2,778 words

Peter has a taste for the all-consuming; he doesn’t find it at all strange to be in the minor percentage of werewolves who have mates.

Derek/Stiles
8,437 words

Stiles shoved another bite into his mouth, glancing over at Boyd and Erica. Boyd was smiling down into his eggs benedict and Erica was grinning at Stiles.

He frowned in confusion, his chewing slowing. Tucking the food into one cheek, he asked, “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just nice. I like when the four of us come out together. Our little double dates,” she teased, stabbing her fork into a strawberry and putting it between her lips.

Stiles snorted at her comment, since this wasn’t a double date—he wished—but didn’t comment on it because he liked their outings, too. Even if he whined incessantly about it until he got there, it was always a good time.

Peter/Stiles
1,718 words

It's not that Stiles hates David. Hate is a strong word. It's just that...he hates that guy. And it kills him. You're not supposed to hate your soulmate, the one person the universe has decided is perfect for you. The person made for you. Intellectually, he knows that's ridiculous. Abusive soulmates exist. Cheating, lying, violent soulmates exist, and he would never expect someone to stay with someone like that.

His mother had believed in soulmates. Believed wholeheartedly, and he can't fail her again by it not working with David.

OR

Stiles has a bit of a soulmark miscommunication.

Derek/Stiles
81,018 words

Not wanting to think on it too much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth.

“Not too close, he bites.”

Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting.

“He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton.

The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.”

“Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek.

He looked extremely displeased.

Derek/Stiles
3,609 words

Yeah, pass the salt, Stiles.

They're not particularly inspiring words. Not like the long stream of goo spilling over Scotty's arm. But somewhere, Stiles' soulmate is out there, waiting to say them to him.

If only he could stop thinking about the mysterious hot stranger he met in the woods...