Oops, I Sterek'd.

I dont own and all that jazz. Sterek. Swearing and some wolfy-claiming-admiring-thoughts. But yea.

Stiles knew he wasn't normal. It was kind of obvious. But, he had deemed himself the human mascot of their pack. Alison didn't count because she actually contributed to their well of supernatural knowledge.

But right now, in the middle of the woods, trying to spout out info on witches as the pack tried to fight said supernatural beings off, Stiles was beginning to see all of it as ridiculous.

That was when a witch somehow got past Boyd's defense and she slammed right into Stiles, wrapping a hand tightly around his throat and throwing him up against a tree, pinning him there with unnatural strength. She loosened her hand enough that he could breath without much difficulty. His phone lay in the dirt, having been dropped when she body-slammed him.

"Stop! Or the human's head will roll!" She screamed. Surprisingly, everyone froze. Derek dropped the witch he was killing and she slowly sank to the ground, already dead. He crouched predatorily and growled low in his throat. Thankfully, he wasn't in full Alpha mode, and could still talk to the witch.

"Drop him. Now." He snarled around his fangs, his red eyes flashing in the moonlight. It was only a half-moon, but it gave enough light for them to be able to see each other. Stiles wished he could have werewolf sight that night, then he would've been able to see and not stumble over every root that the shadows conveniently covered. Scott roared from where he perched in a tree, right above Allison, with her long bow.

Stiles gulped and lifted his hands to grip at the witches pale wrist. She tightened her grip momentarily and glared at him until he let go. Derek grunted in rage. Erica and Isaac slowly stood from similar crouches and bared their fangs at the many witches that surrounded them. The women backed off at a nod from the apparent leader, who was the one choking Stiles against the tree.

The leader laughed and finally let Stiles go. He fell to his knees and coughed, trying to get air back into his lungs. He attempted to lunge forward towards Derek, but the witch's hand shot out and a blast of magic hit his back. He face-planted the ground and screamed in agony. He was burning, his whole body writhed like he was on fire. The whole pack made to leap at her but she held out a hand and they stilled as Stiles panted and groaned and screamed.

"See this Alpha?" She questioned Derek, who snarled at her, straining against the magic that held him in place, "The human…he feels all the pain your family felt…as they burned." Stiles echoing scream in the chilled, tense silence of the forest emphasized her words. Derek's enraged expression fell for a moment as they words sank in. He couldn't begin to imagine the pain that was coursing through Stiles' body. His face twisted into rage again as Stiles let out a long, low groan, like he couldn't even scream anymore. Stiles rolled onto his back and arched his back, the wet leaves under him sliding under his hands as he tried to hold onto literally anything.

The witch laughed down at him and snapped. His body slumped and he let out a long sigh of relief. He slowly blinked up at her and he grimaced. She stared harder at him, like she's never seen his face during the battle. She knelt and stroked his face, making him flinch. Stiles wanted to run so bad but he wasn't going to do anything to provoke this lady at the moment, after what had just happened.

"Such beauty…And intelligence….wasted by these disgusting werewolves." She cooed, stroking his cheek as he panted and tried not to freak out. Derek tried against her magic again but it held strong.

"They aren't disgusting." Stiles grunted, finally getting his breathing under control, though it was still a little fast….and heavy. His heart rate was through the roof, though, and all the wolves could tell how frightened he was. They could smell his fear.

The witch grimaced down at him and gripped his arm, standing and pulling him up with her.

"You don't even know what you are…." She murmured to him, wiping leaves from his clothes as he looked around, confused.

W-What do you mean? I mean, I'm human, and I like it that way. Don't get me wrong, being supernatural would be awesome and all but I just don't think I really want to have to deal with all that baggage. I already have to deal with all their problems." He rambled, waving an arm towards the magically frozen wolves. The witch gave him a look like he was an idiot.

"You honestly have no idea…do you? Who your mother was, Stilinski?" She asked. Stiles tensed and glared at her, all his focus on her.

"Who was she?" He growled. The witch laughed and spread her arms out wide.

"One of us." She whispered. That was when an arrow ripped through her left shoulder. She screamed and wailed and her magic broke. Derek lunged forward and grabbed Stiles, who was still frozen in place, and dragged him back to where the pack was huddled together. Allison stood straight though, as the other witches gathered up their leader and fled as Chris Argent came out of the trees with a crossbow in his hands. He sighed when he saw his daughter guarding the wolves.

"Come over here and let me deal with them, Allison." He said calmly, lowering his weapon just slightly. Derek paid them little attention as he laid Stiles down on the ground. His breathing was raspy and labored and his face was very pale. His eyes were glassy and he was clutching at Derek's leather jacket desperately.

"Scott!" Derek called. Everyone's heads turned to them. Scott cursed under his breath and knelt on Stiles' other side.

"What's happening to him?" Derek questioned. Scott growled and gently slapped Stiles' cheek.

"He's having a panic attack. Dammit! Stiles, hey buddy, hey! Where is your god damn inhaler?" He grumbled and started digging in Stiles' pockets. He beamed when he found an asthma inhaler. Scott shoved the device into Stiles' mouth and pressed down. Stiles gasped and sat up too fast, knocking heads with Scott. He ripped the inhaler away and took a deep breath.

"I'm okay. Yeah, totally fine." He stood quickly and avoided the worried stares he was getting.

"Okay….Well, if I cant kill you. We all need to have a long discussion about what the hell witches are doing in Beacon Hills. All of you, come on. We're going to the Hale house." He ordered.

No one could protest.

Once they were at Derek's house, all seated around the long, charred dining table, Chris stood and scowled.

"Why are the witches here?" He asked. Derek sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

"We don't know. But," He glanced at Stiles, who stuck his tongue out at him, "We may have gained some vital information tonight. Apparently, Stiles' mother was a witch." Stiles groaned loudly and let his head drop onto the table with a thunk.

This was a total shit-storm and Stiles was caught in the middle.

"So what if she was!" Stiles exploded, "That…That doesn't make me…a…Does it?" He turned to Derek and looked into his eyes for any hope. The Alpha simply looked down. Stiles' face went blank and he walked out of the room without a word. Surprisingly. Chris gave Derek an expectant look. Derek raised his eyebrows.

"What?" He snapped. Chris sighed and grumbled something about idiot alphas.

"Go. Get. Him. Before he does something stupid. And/or permanent." Chris ground out, not even bothering to watch as Derek sighed, grumbled, and stalked from the room. It was a lot less tense then…Kidding! Chris and Scott kept sending each other subtle death-glares. Erica, Isaac, and Boyd were all sitting rather close, as far from Chris as they could get. And Allison was also glaring at him. Shocker, right?…No?….Okay, then.

Stiles tried to be dramatic and leap down the porch steps like they weren't even there but, of-fucking-course, he stumbled over his own feet and fell. To the ground. On his shoulder. And it hurt.

But then someone was there, lifting him off the ground and dusting him off. Stiles realized who it was and shoved Derek away from hi, but the werewolf didn't move an inch. It was like shoving a brick wall. Absolutely nothing. At least a brick wall never growled in response to your shove.

"You're an idiot." Derek mumbled, pushing Stiles down so he sat on the very steps he was currently despising. Derek sat next to him and looked around the dark yard awkwardly.

"I thought I was human." Stiles mumbled, burying his head in his hands. Derek sighed.

"Look, Stiles, I….This isn't something we have to acknowledge. We can ignore it…If you want." He said, actually sounding human for once, mostly because he wasn't threatening Stiles with death or bodily harm…Or slamming him up against something hard. Because that seemed to be the norm for them now. Derek wanted something, Stiles refused, Derek growled and slammed him against said hard object, Stiles automatically agreed to whatever Derek wanted. This is what his life had become. And now, to add onto all of that pure mind-fuckery, he was a witch. Well, wasn't this just fucking grand. Just spectacular. How fabulous.

"I don't want to ignore it…I mean, it's a part of who she was…So…Do you have any books on witchcraft?" Stiles chuckled half-heartedly. Derek glanced over at him and couldn't help but feel proud for his pack-member. Stiles was really the only one he could tolerate for extended periods of time, surprisingly.

And he wasn't an eyesore. Derek could feel his wolf slowly start to come out and examine Stiles, as they sat in silence, Derek's stiff nod answer enough for Stiles. His wolf analyzed Stiles body; pale skin, chocolate brown eyes. Slender body, hips, and chest.

NO! What the fuck? Derek shook his head to get rid of his damn wolves' thoughts. Stiles was well…He was Stiles. And no. Just no. He refused to think about a sixteen year old boy like this. Damn his inner wolf, always making him think perverted things when the kid was near. Stiles rubbed at his throat and grimaced. Derek leaned in close for a second and sniffed. He smelt blood. Not a lot, but still there. He knocked Stiles hands away from his pale throat and examined the crescent-shaped cuts from the witch's nails.

"Why didn't you tell anyone you were hurt?" He growled, sniffing at the wounds. Stiles was blushing, trying not to notice how good it felt…having Derek snuffling all around his neck. But he gulped and tried to get his teenage hormones under control but it was hard for a sixteen year old virgin.

"I was a bit more concerned about my whole being a witch thing than some hippie bitches cat-claws. Sorry. Maybe next time, when I'm having a life-crisis, I'll just drop all my emotional problems and let you search my entire body for the tiniest of wounds because surely I'm going to die from five tiny little scratches on my neck. And-"

"Stiles!"

"What?"

"…Shut up. Now, sit still…" Derek trailed off and Stiles froze as something hot and wet touched his neck. Was…Was that Derek's tongue? Oh god. What he hell. Stiles tried to keep his breathing and heart under control but he knew Derek could hear how flustered he'd just made Stiles. Little did Stiles know, Derek could smell it too. Derek's tongue flicked across the scratches one last time and he leaned back to admire his work.

"There. They should heal quicker now. Your welcome…By the way." He mumbled, smirking as he smelt a spike of arousal course through Stiles. Dammit. He could feel his wolf howl through as his veins as Stiles glanced up at him with his giant brown eyes.

And just like that, his wolf claimed Stiles. Damn it. All. To Hell.

So. I have a lot of Sterek feels and this probably sucks but just take it, okay.

And listen to Howl by Florence and the Machine.

Because it fucking PERFECTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT. On levels that surpass perfection.