Sterek // One-Shots

lap magnet|§|part 7

Author:         Prairie_Grass
                               Ao3

Additional Tags: Dubious Consent,Mating Bond,SomnophiliaKnotting,Loss of Virginity,characters who are unaware of their actions,five times ficsort ofPost Season 2ish,Minor Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall,the sheriff is a canny dudeand trolling everyone,BAMF Stiles,Accidental Bonding,Self-Lubrication(but no mpreg)

Word's: 30,771
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Summary;

Wherein an ill-advised floral arrangement leads to a whole new definition of obliviousness, accidental mate-bonds, and far more sex and tropes than one fic really needs.

or

Five times Derek and Stiles didn’t notice how close they were (literally) and then a whole bunch of times when they did...
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It was D-day. Full moon night. Evening of the un-bonding. Day of shit.

Stiles glared at the book he was attempting to use as a distraction method. It was doing a poor job and should probably re-think its career choices as a tool of attention-grabbing.

Okay so, it wasn't fair to blame the book. Even he could acknowledge that. Stiles placed it down and slumped until his chin was resting next to it on the desk-top. This day could go die in fire, as far as he was concerned. (Although he wasn't sure if he was actually allowed to use that phrase considering the people of his acquaintance. Even when it was just in his own head. Probably for the best that this mate-bond thing didn't come with a side of telepathy. Derek would likely have ended up even more traumatized than he already was.)

Stiles couldn't help but hope that come moonrise, or moon set, or whenever it was that the mate-bond would break, that it would turn out the whole gone-on-Derek thing he was dealing with right now would totally end up being gone-on-Derek's-dick, not gone on his stupid little smirk, or the way he would fold his arms and radiatesmugness, or the way he fiercely protected his Pack – even when it was blindingly obvious he had no idea what he was doing. He hoped that he would instantly stop thinking it was adorable that Derek wanted himself and Scott to be wolf-brothers or whatever. That he totally freaked whenever Erica had a seizure. That he carefully wrote in Isaac's birthday and school dates on their calendar so that he wouldn't forget something important. That he couldn't bring himself to throw Peter out of his pack – even though the dude was clearly evil – because he was the last thing he had left of his family. Stiles was really hoping that all of those things would just stop being important to him.

...He didn't really believe though that fate would be that kind.

His best case scenario right now was that once his body had stopped clamoring for a near-constant Derek-dicking (and really, it was kind of out of control; every cell in his body seemed to be reminding him – loudly – that the only place he should be tonight was on his mate's cock), that somehow he'd be able to turn all of that love-shit around into mostly-platonic-love, and he and Derek might be able to salvage some kind of friendship out of this mess.

He sighed and pulled himself back up in his chair, attempting to re-focus on the chapter on Emissaries which probably would have been fascinating under other circumstances.

The Emissary serves as a link. A link between humanity and the wolf, between magic and the mundane, and between a pack and their land. Without the Emissary to enable the energy to flow between these things, the link is unstable, fragile. An Alpha may stand watch over a mighty territory, but without the Emissary to ground them, they cannot call upon the land to protect them in turn.