djorjitto
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Summary
“The mating ritual has commenced. The human now belongs to the Hale pack.”
“I have a name,” Stiles mumbled.
“What is it?”
The voice was rough, as if biting into the delicate skin of Stiles’ throat had taken concerted effort. Stiles’ eyes flitted open, looking at his Werewolf-husband for the first time.
“Oh, my God,” Stiles groaned. “You’re hot.”When Stiles is caught breaking ancient Pack law, he’s given two choices: be killed or become mate to some Werewolf he’s never met before.
He chooses what he hopes will be the less lethal of the two options. -
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Summary
Chris had warned him. Chris-mother-fucking-Argent had warned him, and he still hadn’t managed to avoid the hunters. Well, that wasn’t exactly true… he could have avoided them, but that would have meant leading them back to their base, and he wasn’t doing that.
Derek is trapped by hunters, drugged, feral... and afraid he's going to be set free to take the one thing he's wanted more than anything else in his world: Stiles.
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Summary
Scott makes a horrifying discovery. Derek isn’t just brooding. He’s sex-starved. And apparently the only person who can fix it is Stiles. Naturally, Scott shoves him straight into the line of fire before the pack gets torn apart by one very frustrated werewolf.
—Derek’s eyes narrowed. He turned toward Scott with a glare that could burn straight through him. Explain yourself or be eaten—that was his type of vibe.
Scott held up his hands in defense. "Okay, okay! Chill. The pack's just... concerned."
“Concerned,” Derek repeated, voice flat and deeply unimpressed.
Scott winced, his smile cracking. “Yeah. Uh. You kinda made Isaac cry yesterday. Over sparring techniques. And Lydia said she’s not coming back until you get laid.”
Derek froze. His entire body went stiff like someone had poured cement down his spine.
“We’re just wondering,” Scott said, painfully casual, “when the last time was that you had some fun. And if, like… you needed help finding someone?”
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"Ooh going all sub-verbal on me. I like it, I like that I do that to you."
He's looking over his shoulder now. Derek got lost in watching his back as he rolled up to take position. But now he catches his eye, flashes his red gaze and lets his fangs drop just enough to peek between his teeth. He hears Stiles' heart skip and his breath catch.
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Summary
Of all the outcomes Derek imagined, he never thought he would be staring down a rifle with Stiles hidden behind him.
“We’re unarmed,” Derek stated, his hands in a placating gesture as he took a step in front of Stiles.
Stiles reached a hand up, taking hold of Derek’s arm as he instructed him to lower his hands. “Hello, father,” he softly greeted the man holding the rifle.
Derek looked at the man, finally taking a moment to realize that it was the man from the photo Stiles had in his suitcase. He lingered beside Stiles, knowing this first impression was not the finest.
~*~
Or, the one set during WWII where Stiles is a pregnant grad student and Derek is a PTSD riddled soldier, both of them looking for a better life.