Derek Stiles Novels & Stories

I butted in. Derek sighed. "Oh, you broke my heart, pretty boy. You broke my heart. I'm in pains." I shook my head. Derek hadn't changed at all. He flirted with every handsome guy he came across, regardless of who they were. He was a petite, pretty thing with blonde hair. Derek was a well-known stylist and make-up artist with a good sense of humour. On many occasions, he'd styled me up for my photo shoots. "I'm going to get changed now."

He grinned, though his eyes betrayed him with a real curiosity. Derek naturally was confident because of his sharp, defined features, his green eyes ever twinkling with an air of mischief. His hair cropped short, dark, and with a bit of stubble, Derek wasn’t as imposing as Liam but with a certain charm to him. Where Liam held himself in reserve, Derek was one of those who would crack the tension with a single smile or some well-timed joke. He was wearing his trademark leather jacket and boots, the image of a person who could take care of himself in a fight, but also in negotiation.

Emma stepped into the office, her heart pounding like she’d walked into a lion’s den. And there he was. Derek Steele. Tall, broad-shouldered, lounging in a black leather chair like sin himself. Dark hair, messy in a way that screamed fuck me and thank me after. Sleeves rolled up to expose muscular forearms. His jawline could cut diamonds. And those eyes—piercing, icy, undressing her without a word. "You’re Emma," he said, voice low and smooth. "Y-yes, sir." "Age?" "Nineteen… last month."

Morrison had friends in the NYPD and the prosecutor's office and agreed to this collaboration for the sake of efficiently bringing Dylan behind bars. The other man who joined us in the room was much more peculiar. Killian explained that Mr. Stiles was a military specialist, a person he called whenever needed, as he named it a “special kind of approach.” I was wondering what his words meant until a tall, bulky, and highly intimidating man entered the study. Once he did, I decided it was better not to ask any questions. The two-millimeter cut of his hair, the long scar going from his chin down his neck, and another one under his left eye, made him look as if he had been taken straight from som

he growled. “I'm sorry that he did that but I'm still curious,” I said with blinking doe eyes. Rolling his eyes he let out a long breath of air and grinned. “My father is the Wolves high council member Derek Stevens,” he said quickly and I gasped. “Holy shit! You're like royalty!” He shook his head and waved around the room. “Royalty that lives like a pauper is more like it,” he said firmly. “May I borrow one of your highnesses clean t-shirts,” I giggled.

I have a date with a redhead. Derek : Omg, man, you're so stupid. I'll also be coming out beta Luke will also be there. Alpha Miles: Okay thanks guys it means a lot. end call"

In response, Derek casually brings his heavy fist down right on top of the man's bald skull, knocking him out cold instantly. "Your tongue talks too much," Derek mutters, lowering his blood-stained knuckles. Scott and the rest of the onlookers gulp down their spit nervously. This lone wolf is incredibly bold. Stiles Stilinski is notorious across the Crescent Ridge Territory for his pure brutality. Of Beacon Moon City's four underground district leaders, Stilinski is the youngest but by far the most vicious. His name alone makes young pups stop crying at night. Yet here stands Derek, looking completely unconcerned. Does his inner wolf truly possess no fear of a bloody death?

“You’re new, right?” “Yeah… got here and laid low for months now.” She nodded toward Derek and his teammates. “Then let me give you your important lesson about Ridgewood High.” I followed her gaze…straight toward Derek. “That,” she said, “is Derek Hayes.” “I noticed.” “Star quarterback. School legend. Walking heartbreaker.” “Also professional embarrassment distributor.” Maya grinned. “Oh, so you have met him.” I covered my face. “You have no idea.” “Actually,” she said, leaning back, “I heard the story from a friend of mine…the delivery girl, tripping… bla bla…”

"Derek does have a love interest. I promised to help him get the girl if did me one tiny favor. Of course, he agreed. Eagerly." Stacey's jaw was hanging off the floor. "Derek likes someone? Like a boy?" "No. A girl." "What?" She shrieked. "But everyone thought he's gay." "He's definitely not." "This should be on the news." "That's completely unnecessary. Anyway," I said, changing the subject. "We should change." "Change?" Stacey turned to me, gazing at me strangely. "Yes. Change." I confirmed, unbuckling my seat belt and then reaching out for the huge bag in the back seat.

When I pushed open the heavy wooden door of the hallway to head back to our table, I found Derek leaning casually against the exposed brick wall near the corridor. ​He was holding his denim jacket over his arm, looking up as the door clicked shut. ​"Hey," I smiled, surprised to see him standing there. "Everything okay?" ​"Yeah," Derek said softly, pushing off the wall. He rubbed the back of his neck, a dry, slightly wry smirk touching his lips. "Just heading out early. Early shift at the hospital tomorrow." He paused, studying my face with a quiet, intense curiosity. "You know... you never mentioned you were dating the Jax Cole of the NBA."