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Originally Derek wanted to be a pirate. After than an explorer and when he was fourteen he had figured that he was kind of handy with a pencil so he decided he wanted to be an architect.

Of course, life has a certain way of laughing in his face and saying ‘Oh, hon’ just before spinning everything he knows in a hundred and eighty angle and leaving him a little dumbstruck and standing on shaky legs.

This particular time, he made the very grave mistake of walking into a little bookshop with an old school sign announcing it was called Six Days on top and an array of books that seemed designed to pique Derek’s interest in the display.

He had walked out with a slighty dumbstruck look, a pile of what would become his favorite books and three books in how to be a good writer, even though he had insisted to both owners that he had no interest whatsoever in becoming one.

They had simply shared a look and snorted, apparently amused he thought he had a choice in the matter. Derek’s still a little offended to this day, even if he did end up as a New York Times Bestseller author.

“Everyone is a New York Times Bestseller author these days, Der,” Laura always laughs at him.

Looking back he thinks the mysterious bookshop that had been gone the next day was exactly what had led him to this particular situation, which was stuck on a plane with another guy reading his book and making faces.

The worst part is he doesn’t even know what those faces mean. He honestly has no idea if the guy’s liking it or hating it and just waiting to get home and ritual burn it.

Derek keeps trying to read under his shoulder to see what part he’s at and trying to gauge his reaction to what’s happening. He hasn’t been very successful so far.

“Ugh!” the guy says loudly smushing the book against his face and sliding down his seat.

Derek is a grownass werewolf. He’s done squirming.

“Everything okay?”

The man peeks over the book at him, seems to startle himself and flails into a more upright position, “Oh, hi, uh, hello. Hi,” he waves awkwardly.

Derek presses his lips tight not to smirk. After all, this guy may probably hate his book.


“I’m Stiles,” he introduces himself with a slight smile.

“Derek Hale. So, what’s wrong? With the book?”

Stiles looks down at it like he’d forgotten its existence before clutching it to his chest and glaring.

“There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s amazing why are you dissing my book what did it ever do to you?”

Derek perks up, puffing up a little.

“I’m pretty sure you just facepalmed using the book.”

“It’s not facepalming if I use a book. More, like, facebooking,” Stiles freezes and frowns at himself before snorting.

Derek finds himself leaning a little closer.

“The question is why were you facepalming-“


Derek glares, “facepalming using the book.”

“Because!” Stiles says with passion shaking the book in the air righteously.

Derek quirks an eyebrow and waits him out.

Stiles huffs and stops flailing, “These two characters that should be together aren’t and they can’t even see it.”


“Char- oh you won’t know who I’m talking about. This dragon shifter dude and the hunter dude.”

Derek frowns, because no, those two should not be together. He should know. He wrote the book.

“It’s just so frustrating. They’d be so fucking good to each other and it’s like no one can see it!”

“They only have a handful of scenes where they interact.”

Stiles points an accusing finger at him, holding it mere inches from his nose. Derek has to repress the childish want to bite him, like he does to Cora.

“You have read this book then!”

Derek squirms, “Something like that.”

Stiles squints at him, like he can somehow tell that Derek is lying. Of course he can’t because he isn’t a werewolf like Derek or any kind of shifter. He’d smell like one if he were, and Stiles just smells… amazing.

Anyways. They’re both kickass and they should be kickass boyfriends together, not to talk about how Jason – hunter dude’s friend – is a raging douchebag and should be thrown off an airplane.”

“You’re reading the book wrong,” Derek tells him.

Everything he’s said is wrong.

“Maybe you’re reading the book wrong.”


“Completely possible,” Stiles argues, “Don’t get me wrong it was fine in the two first books but now the tension is just- why can’t the screw each other already. And Jason! Don’t even get me started.”

“Jason’s fine. He’s just- he’s not that much of an asshole.”

“Are you even reading the same books? He double crossed his little gang just three seconds ago! Causing Char- dragon dude to be severely injured and you know who came to his aid once more?”

“Hunter dude?”

“Hunter dude!” Stiles agrees loudly.

“Whatever, you have to read the rest to get it.”

“There’s a plot twist?”

“Read the rest, Stiles.”

Stiles huffs, “Bossy bossy.”

Five minutes later he’s shaking his head at his book, “Don’t use silver dumbass. That is not how werewolves work. Well this is not accurate at all.”

“What?” Derek startles because no one picks that up. Everyone thinks ‘wolves really can only be killed by silver bullets.

Stiles waves a hand distractedly, “It’s a mistranslation. Actually they mean Argent which is silver in French except the hunter family not the precious metal.”

“What?” Derek says a little louder.

Stiles startles looking at him with wide eyes, “What? Nothing! Nothing, don’t listen to me what do I know. I’m just some dude on an airplane reading a fantasy book,” he babbles, “No, sir, you should not lis-“

“Shut up,” Derek orders, leaning a little closer and taking a deep breath, which, may have been a mistake because Stiles smells just about like one of the best things ever to grace this world. Derek would not mind burying his nose in there. He also smells faintly of electricity and wet earth.

“Spark?” he guesses.

Stiles’ eyes widen for a second, “Werewolf. You’re one of those Hales.”

“And you are? Besides magical and wrong about the book?”

Stiles snorts, “Stiles Stilinski, emissary in training. Pleasure,” he offers Derek his hand to shake.

Derek commits the mistake of shaking it. Stiles’ hand is warm and inviting in his and somehow he can feel his heartbeat, which despite seeming to be set permanently on frantic is calming to him.

“And I’m not wrong about the book,” he argues.

“Yes, you really are.”

Stiles huffs and glares defiantly, “How do you know? Were you the one who wrote the bo- OhmyGod you wrote the book didn’t you!”

Derek only lifts both eyebrows at him.

“I knew one of the Hales was a writer, but-“ he stops, flips the book until he’s looking at the cover and then starts cracking up, “you use a pen name that translates to Wolfie Wolf?”

Derek quirks the corner of his lips up. Not many catch that and the ones who do often aren’t werewolves or into the supernatural to know the joke behind it.

“Dude,” Stiles is still laughing, “that’s amazing.”

“My sister Laura suggested it.”

“Are you serious? She’s my favorite person in the entire world. I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Meet her?”

“Oh, right. I’m doing my apprenticeship under Alan Deaton for the summer. Dr. Deaton thinks I need a little more field experience, so he put me to work with the Hale pack,” he smirks, “Guess we’ll have plenty of time to discuss how wrong you are about the books.”

“I wrote them.”

“Exactly! You of all people should know better! And I didn’t even get to the plot holes.”

“There are no plot holes.”

“There won’t be when I’m done with you,” he promises, threatens really.

“You’re infuriating,” Derek crosses his arms.

“And you’re just wrong,” Stiles stops for a beat, “We should totally make out.”

Derek glances him up and down and nods, “Agreed.”

They do end up making out, at the arrivals gate when both their rides are late. Derek has Stiles pressed against a pillar and Stiles has both hands in his air and they’re making a lot of reuniting families uncomfortable.

Normally Derek would be concerned about this, but he has Stiles’ tongue in his mouth and if he does this one thing Stiles lets out this filthy moan so really he can’t be bothered to care.

“OhmyGod,” he hears someone shriek loudly and fuck if he knows that shriek by heart.

Slowly he pulls back from Stiles to see Laura standing there with a put upon expression, “You didn’t even give me time to introduce myself to my future emissary and you’re already trying to bang him to the next full moon and back. You’re unbelievable, Der,” she complains loudly.

“I’m sorry, future emissary?” Stiles says, disbelievingly.

Laura lifts her chin, “I heard about the prank you pulled on Deucalion and his Alpha pack. I’m keeping you.”

“No person can keep me,” Stiles sniffs primly.

“Good thing we’re werewolves then,” she tells him with a too sharp smile.

Stiles laughs, slides his hand naturally to the small of Derek’s back and pushes him forward, “Come on, Der. I’m hitching a ride with you and your sister. I feel like she’ll take my side in how wrong you are.”

Derek sighs long-sufferingly, already foreseeing the hell that those two will be later on, especially if Laura has her sights set on keeping Stiles.

What Laura wants Laura gets and for once in his life Derek is absolutely fine with that, it was time Derek got payback for all those times Laura stoles his toys. He’s pretty sure Stiles won’t mind be stolen away from time to time.

(He’s mostly right. They do keep Stiles and Laura barely lets Derek have time with him because she’s a spoiled brat like that. It’s okay though because Stiles always finds his way back to Derek with three new reasons why he’s wrong.

Derek ends up making Charlie (dragon dude) and Thomas (hunter dude) make out in his books and it’s so well received that he actually makes Stiles beta read his manuscripts. It drives Laura mad. It’s a win-win situation for everyone.

And has he mentioned that Stiles looks lovely with stubble burn all over, because that’s another important thing that happens.)