this was written because my friend @k1ngdragon is very gay and he wouldn’t leave me alone and kept talking about the most domestic piece of shit ever
“Come back to bed, Stiles,” he hears from behind him, Derek’s voice still rough with sleep. It sounds tempting, way too tempting, but Stiles squares his shoulders and pulls on his pants.
“No,” he says, refusing to turn around. “We had plans Derek! Romantic camping plans! With campfires! And probably awkward sex in a tent!”
“We can do it later just- come back to bed.”
Stiles glances back for a second, just a second and shit. Derek’s lying on his back, the sunlight shining through the curtains making him look soft, looking up at Stiles through his eyelashes. Derek absently scratches a hand on his stomach, a thing he always does in the morning and Stiles can already feel himself giving in, because Derek looks so content and happy and he’s lying in bed, naked and Stiles loves him.
How could I start the week better? Do you know how much I adore you? because it’s like, a lot 😀
I’m very flattered that you tok the time to read this fic again, and a little (lot) flustered by these words so I’m just going to send you all the love ❤
Thanks, it really means a lot to me, more than you know
I want a story about a king whose son is prophesied to kill him so the king is like “whatever what am I supposed to do, kill my own kid wtf is wrong with you” so he just raises him as normal, doesn’t even tell him about the prophecy, and instead of some convoluted twist of events that leads to the king’s murder the son grows up and when the king is very old and dying and in excruciating pain the kid is just like alright I’mma put him out of his misery.
The king’s son becomes the new king, and is prophesied to defeat evil and bring an age of prosperity. His generals and knights all crack their knuckles but he pretty much ignores them and focuses on strengthening the infrastructure of his kingdom. Forty years later he is old and sick but still hearing his subjects’ grievances, and a general’s like “how will you defeat the prophesied evil now? You’re old and weak.” Another visitor, a teenager fresh out of the kingdom’s public education system, looks at the general like he is an ignoramus. The king eradicated poverty, housed the homeless, taught the ignorant, ended class exploitation by abolishing the nobility and imprisoning the corrupt, and established a highly respected guild of doctors that recently figured out how to cure the plague. There are no brigands because there is enough wealth for everyone to live comfortably; hiding in the woods and taking trinkets from people simply doesn’t make any sense for anyone but the desperate, and the people are not desperate. Evil is a weed, explains the teenager. It grows in cracked roads and crumbling houses and forgotten corners, rooted in indifference and watered by suffering. But the king demands that broken things be mended and suffering people be made well.
No evil lives in this kingdom, says the teenager. It starved to death before I was born.
Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.
Teen Wolf
Just Like Me Series – Stiles/Derek
Stiles, Derek, and their FBI team are called in to hunt for a serial killer. While in Portland, the bonds of the team are tested as relationships change and one of their own becomes the killer’s next target.
Serendipity – Jackson/Stiles When Stiles attends a first responder conference in Sacramento, he doesn’t expect to run into Jackson Whittemore at the hotel’s bar.
When Stiles Stilinski decides to enter a celebrity lookalike contest, he doesn’t expect to lose considering he isthe celebrity! However, when he meets security guard, Allison, he realizes that maybe losing isn’t too bad, after all.
‘Wherein Stiles nuts and runs, suspects any and all fairytale endings, but falls foul of sustained and earnest wooing by his alpha prince Derek Hale’ courtesy of @shealwaysreads
Stiles isn’t really sure when his life took a detour from the usual horror movie plot it’s been later and went straight to kinky porn, but he can’t really complain when Victoria and Chris Argent are determined to seduce him.
When Hermione gives in to temptation and kisses a much younger man, she has no idea how her life is going to change. As Hermione and Teddy navigate a new relationship, they also have to deal with her misgivings regarding their age, his insecurities, her children, his godfather, her ex-husband, and a case at work that keeps them busy.
Always a Bridesmaid – Cedric/Hermione Hermione is performing bridesmaid duties for the seventh time.
When Hermione accepts her cousin’s invitation to a hen party, she doesn’t expect to run into anyone she knows. She especially doesn’t expect to find Adrian Pucey working at a Muggle strip club.
When Hermione is assigned to interview the Weird Sisters, she thinks it’s a punishment. She doesn’t expect it to turn into a reward when sparks fly between her and the lead guitar player.
L’île de deuxième chance – Pansy/Hermione It was meant to be a short holiday from a stressful situation. Instead of simply finding escape, though, Pansy ends up finding herself and learning that second chances are precious.
After Arthur’s death, Molly joins a women’s group and makes an unexpected connection
Other Fandoms
Fools Rush In – MCU. Steve Rogers/Clint Barton (post Avengers) Wise men say only fools rush in. Clint and Steve aren’t rushing, but they still think they’re fools when it comes to the whole falling in love thing. Fortunately, they’re both stubborn and figuring it out together.
Jim doesn’t know if it’s serendipity or if it’s merely a coincidence, but he does recognize a second chance when he stumbles across it on a dark and stormy night.
Two Men and a Motorbike – Star Trek AOU Kirk/McCoy (post STXI)
One of the few constants in James Kirk’s life the last three years has been his best friend, Leonard McCoy. After saving Earth from a bunch of crazy time-traveling Romulans, Jim & Bones find out what happens when best friends cross the line between friendship and something more after a late night ride on Jim’s motorbike. There are good times and bad times, and times that are just plain complicated.
When Lydia suggested that they all play seven minutes in heaven, Jackson rolled his eyes. He knew it was just a sly way for her to get the chance to make out with Malia.
When he accused her of it, all she did was huff and say, “It also gives you the chance to make out with Stiles.” Suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a stupid idea anymore.
Once Lydia’s party finally rolled around, Jackson could barely contain his excitement. Everyone wrote their name on a slip of paper and stuck it into a hat and Lydia went over the rules: nothing more than kissing, no means no, and don’t break anything. They seemed like fairly simple rules to follow, but Jackson had seen firsthand how rowdy the baseball team could get at her parties.
Originally, he’d really been looking forward to playing seven minutes in heaven, but that was before he realized how much waiting was involved. Seven minutes sure as hell wasn’t enough time for the two people in the closet, but it felt like an eternity to just sit outside and wait. Across the room, Stiles spoke animatedly to McCall about god-knows-what and he tried to ignore the pang of jealousy.
But finally, it seemed all his prayers had been answered; his and Stiles’ names were drawn. Jackson didn’t miss the way Lydia smirked at him as she walked them over to the closet.
After she locked the door, Jackson could practically reach out and touch the tension with his fingers. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see Stiles standing a couple feet in front of him, running a hand through his hair. Well, it was now or never. Jackson reached out to take Stiles’ hands in his and he hesitantly led them to rest on his waist as he backed himself up against the wall. He heard him suck in a breath and could make out the familiar act of Stiles licking his lips in the dark.
Jackson slowly ran his hands back up Stiles’ arms until they rested on his shoulders and he was hit with the sudden realization that he was only a couple inches away from finally kissing Stiles. But before he could even start to freak out, he felt the gentle press of a kiss against his lips and any and all doubts about himself disappeared immediately. He pulled him closer by sliding one hand onto the back of his neck and hummed contently when he felt one of Stiles’ hands slip into his back pocket.
But all too soon, their seven minutes were up. Jackson’s mouth felt tingly from all the kissing and he didn’t even care when the door swung open. He heard some hooting and hollering, but all he could focus on was the way Stiles eyes’ just stayed locked on his.
“You know,” he started, patting Stiles’ chest gently, “I might let you do more after you take me out on a date.”
Stiles’ lips curved into a grin and he said, “Oh, yeah? How much more?”
Jackson shrugged. “Depends on how nice the date is.”
Stiles chuckled and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Then I’ll make sure it’ll be the best date you’ve ever been on.”
“Looking forward to it, Stilinski.”
Stiles snorted and took Jackson’s hand in his as they walked out of the closet. Jackson hadn’t ever smiled so widely.
Stiles didn’t expect the text
from Derek at two in the morning, the chiming of his phone making him jump
slightly as he turned his attention away from his computer and to the device
that rattled across his desk. He picked it up and unlocked it by habit, opening
the message that read ‘Thinking of you’ that was accompanied by an attached
video. Without a second thought, he opened the video, letting it play and
half-listening to it as he turned back to his computer.
He heard a soft moan and bolted
upright, his eyes quickly snapping back to his phone which now had his full and
undivided attention.
Derek knew, when the only person to laugh was Jackson, that the joke had wildly misfired. He was going for banter, he was going for a gentle ribbing, he was…god he was useless.
Stiles’s virginity wasn’t something he hid, for god’s sake. He joked about it himself all the time! Didn’t he? And witches (mother fucking witches, who knew?) were in town and were sacrificing virgins because as well as being vindictive hags, they just loved a cliché. Ergo, a joke aimed at Stiles, about him needing protection, should have just received a little laugh from everyone and they would have moved on to planning how to take the witches down.
What Derek didn’t plan on was the shame, embarrassment and sadness that spiked Stiles’s in scent as soon as the weight of Derek’s words landed. Jackson barked out a cruel laugh and punched Stiles in the arm and Stiles just. Deflated.
Scott, bless his heart, changed the subject effortlessly and the conversation soon went back to battle strategy. Derek refrained from any further ad hoc attempts at humour and Stiles got involved again, but he was muted somehow. Derek tried to think of a time he’d felt worse but was coming up empty. And that in itself was laughable given his fucking tragedy of a life history.
He’d always just assumed Stiles was human kevlar. He was impossible to embarrass. He couldn’t be laughed at because he was always in control of the comedy. But somehow Derek had managed it. It didn’t make him feel special.
Once the plan was in place, people started drifting off to their respective lives and he could see Stiles heading to the door but the feeling that he had to fix things was itching under Derek’s skin. He needed to…something.
“Stiles, wait a minute”
The boy looked like waiting even a minute was the furthest thing from his mind, but he hung back anyway as Scott pulled the door closed behind him. The soft click of the door seemed to echo around the loft as they were left alone. The silence stretched on and Derek couldn’t remember the last time Stiles had been this quiet without being unconscious.
He cleared his throat, determined to clear the air. “Look. I’m…sorry. I didn’t, I mean, it was just a joke and-”
“You can’t joke about that” Stiles interrupts quietly
“What?”
If possible, Stiles looks even more embarrassed. “You don’t get to joke about…that. Okay Derek?”
“I know, and like I said, I’m sorry – ”
“What were you trying to do anyway?” he asks. “Hell, you never make jokes EVER, so why try now?” Stiles voice was becoming harder, angrier. “Just what were you trying to achieve?”
What was he trying to achieve? What possible answer could he give? The truth? The truth was that he was trying to make Stiles laugh. That his laugh warms parts of him he thought long dead. That when this annoying, bright, stubborn boy throws his head back and laughs, Derek allows himself to believe for a moment that the world isn’t all dark and twisty? No. Hah. Not in a million years.
“I was just, trying, I guess.” He settles on a partial truth. “You guys are always getting at me for being quiet, stoic, you know? I think I was trying to fit in more. Erica makes digs all the time and I just.” He sighs. “I thought I could be like that”
Stiles softens slightly. “I get it, I do. Just.” He looks at his feet. “Just don’t joke about…that. Me. The sex-not-having thing. Erica can joke because I’m not in…I mean she isn’t who I…I mean” he lets out a frustrated sigh and at this point Stiles seems to snap. He’s gone full word-vomit. “God! It’s not like I don’t have offers, okay buddy? Because I do. Lots of offers. Guys, girls, I got my pick. I’m attractive, you know? To people? With eyes? Maybe not glowing blue eyes but eyes and I could have any-”
(Derek has come to think on Stiles’s word vomit fondly, tuning out what he’s saying and becoming captivated by his hand gestures and his perfect cupid’s bow lips moving but this time something Stiles says gives Derek pause)
“What did you say?” Derek interrupts sharply.
“- guy or girl that I want to but -what?”
“The ‘glowing blue eyes’ thing you just said? You…was that about me? You don’t think I think you’re attractive?” Derek stares at Stiles in disbelief.
“Don’t play with me, Derek” Stiles says quietly “It’s not fair. I know you don’t think of me that way, and that’s fine, I’ve learned to live with that but until someone comes along that I want as much as I want you, or until you get your head out of your perfect ass and realise you’re the only person I can even think about sleeping with right now I’m not going to just sex-up anyone in the name of getting rid of the V-card. Virginity is just a social construct anyway so it doesn’t even matter and oh my god I didn’t just say that, forget I said that, it was a lie and what the hell is happening to your face?”
He’s smiling. Derek is smiling big and bright and Stiles is right to question this because he never does that. And he’s smiling because Stiles wants him. There may be witches out there to be stopped, and he’s sure that next week there’ll be something else for them to hunt and kill but for now, Derek can’t think of anything other than the fact that the boy he likes, likes him. He’s going to allow himself this little bit of happiness. He moves closer to Stiles and gently brushes his fingers down his forearm before clasping Stiles’s hand in his.
Stiles just manages to say “Besides, we all know *I’m* the funny one” before Derek stops him talking with a kiss.
The first time it happened, Stiles didn’t think anything of it. Standing over the smoldering remains of the creature that just tried to kill them, he said “nice job”, gave Derek a friendly slap on the back, and suggested they go out for celebratory we didn’t die today milkshakes. He was pleasantly surprised when Derek both agreed and paid, and he dipped fries in both to see if they went better with his strawberry or Derek’s chocolate.
(The answer was chocolate, and Derek didn’t even get mad when three of Stiles’ fries were lost in his shake.)
The second time, he was marveling at the obscure text Derek managed to track down and said, “dude, you are literally the best, I’m buying you pizza!” And shockingly, Derek let him, and even told him what toppings he wanted. That might not seem like much in the grand scheme of things, but Stiles had spent years watching in silent judgment as Derek picked off half the toppings from the pizzas he ordered for the pack, as if he couldn’t get another for himself that he actually liked.
Stiles told him he liked the way he rearranged the loft, and Derek sat through the entire extended edition of The Fellowship of the Ring on his new flat screen.
When he mentioned liking the fancy pasta dish Derek made and asked for a lesson to make it, Derek agreed. He showered compliments on Derek’s meticulous overhaul of the bestiary and Derek let him borrow three books.
Derek never let anyone borrow his books, they never left the loft.
These events were all spread out enough that it took a while to click, but when it did, it was both a revelation and incredibly depressing: Derek had no idea what to do with even the most casual of compliments.
Sarcasm was no issue, Stiles knew that much—he’d personally thrown out enough nice martyr complex, jackass and the like to figure that out—but anything that was even remotely sincere?
He started paying attention after that, to the way Derek would stiffen and his eyes would widen a bit before his face closed off again. He would go quiet, maybe nod, and quickly agree to pretty much anything just to get the focus back off himself.
Because Derek was actually embarrassed by compliments.
shealwaysreads 