Derekās costume in Carmine I imagine was a mix of this and this. Enjoy those visuals. ā¤
As for his crush, yes, itās bad. Heās not THAT much older, only about nine years, but thatās plenty. Stiles is in college, for fuckās sake, Derek is basically a cradle robber, here.Ā
Heās also not super rich, and only really famous in the comic-con circuits, since he mostly does fantasy and sci-fi tv shows, and since heās so good at acting and emoting through pounds and pounds of latex, a lot of people donāt even know what his actual face looks like.
So it makes sense that Stiles doesnāt even know who he is, and itās kind of a relief, frankly, right up until the moment Stiles mentions Moon Mysteries, ugh. But he treats Derek exactly the same, doesnāt ask for an autograph or anything, and that actually kinda just makes Derekās crush on him worse.
Stiles scoffs at the age difference, and yes, Derek might not be filthy rich but heās got a decent enough income and a nice family nest egg, and Stiles point blank refuses every offer Derek makes of paying for things.Ā
How could Derek not fall for him, is probably the bigger question.
Heās beautiful, expressive, smart, opinionated, a little shit sometimes but can also turn around and be the kindest possible human being to those he feels deserves it. Heās a man of his word, stands hard on his principles without being completely deaf to criticism, and may or may not have a slight kink for pointless argueing.Ā
Itās like he was made for Derek, thereās no way he wasnāt gonna ask Stiles out.Ā
That Stiles said yes was less of a surprise than it could have been, because he had in fact spent months outrageously flirting with Derek via his coffee orders, and already told Derek to keep growing that amazing beard, because the silver fox look was super hot. Derek isnāt sure he agrees, but anything Stiles wants, Stiles gets.Ā
Itās actually a little bit pathetic how ass over elbows Derek is for this boy.Ā
The only real regret Derek has is that because of Stilesā refusal to accept monetary help of any kind, Derek has to suffer through staying at Stilesā ratty shared apartment a lot. His bed is fine, but the couch is downright disgusting, and living with two other college guys, neither of whom are dedicated to any kind of cleanliness, the place is just a dump. Derek is basically counting down until the day someone gets tetanus.Ā
Eventually, though, he finds his way in. Itās ridiculous that he never thought of it before.Ā
What he needs to do is just pay for shit, and then Stiles will get pissed off and start an arguement, which is kind of a turn on for him, theyāll have angry sex and then Stiles will forgive him and after a while Derek can do it again. So he begins his mission of slowly improving Stilesā living space.Ā
The first thing to go is the couch. Stiles isnāt even that angry about coming home to find something that smells a lot less like dead cat adorning his living room, so thatās a win. The new laptop takes a few more rounds of sex, during which Stiles rants along about how Derek is going to take it back, so help him- oh, yes, right there, gnhā¦
Groceries get eaten either way, and if Stiles doesnāt, then his roommates will swoop in. So Stiles will eat them. Angrily, but still.Ā
Then thereās the dining table, which is usually used for homework. After that, a few chairs that donāt wobble. A decent garbage disposal that actually works. Some fixed piping in the bathroom. Cleaning up of the water damage in the corner of the living room. Derek is on a roll.Ā
Weirdly, the lamp is what breaks the camelās back.Ā
āYou know, if you wanted me to move in with you, you could have just asked,ā Stiles says, making Derek almost fall off the ladder and take the new ceiling lamp with him.Ā āI mean, you didnāt have to court me via home improvements I probably wonāt be around to enjoy six months from now when I can afford better.ā
Derek doesnāt even know what to say to that, and fidgets awkwardly with the lamp shade in his hands.Ā āI justā¦ I just wanted to make things better for you,ā he murmurs eventually, and Stiles shakes his head.Ā
āYouāre kind of an idiot, you know that?ā
āMy sisters tell me that on a weekly basis, donāt worry.ā
āGood. They can help haul my shit when I move in. And that includes my bean bag chair, all this other stuff is fine, but throw away my bean bag and youāre dead.ā
āNoted,ā Derek says, knees feeling a little weak, because what just happened?
āCool. Iāll go put in my notice. Already had a key made last month. Finish the lamp and then go home and start making room in your closet.ā
āIā¦ already did that. Ages ago,ā Derek admits as he climbs off the ladder.Ā
Stiles just raises an eyebrow at him.Ā āSo the drawer you offered me?ā
āThat whole dresser is empty. And the whole closet on that side of the bedroom.ā
āDoofus,ā Stiles says, and gives him a really nice and slightly filthy kiss.Ā āSeriously, so dumb.ā
Derek doesnāt even care heās being insulted, because Stiles is moving in with him.
His life rocks.Ā
End.
Somewhat dedicated to @melodramaticsalad as a belated birthday present. ā¤
Okay, so I rambled at a friend last night about free-knotting, and she told me I should post it, so. Enjoy?
* * *
Derek knows heās not supposed to. He knows. Heās also not naive enough to think that no one ever does it, butā¦ itās just not supposed to happen.
Youāre supposed go out, date, have sex, and learn how to become a decent lover, so when you meet your mate youāre able to give them the best. If you meet your mate too young, youāre encouraged to reject the bond at first, until youāve been around the block.
What youāre not supposed to do, is give your knot to someone whoās not worthy. And the one time Derek had ventured to ask anonymously if you could knot when you were alone, the answer had left him with no illusions that even contemplating such a waste was unthinkable.
That doesnāt change the fact that at least once a week heāll be indulging in the favorite pastime of teens around the world, andā¦ it just happens. The first time itās an accident, and when his mom catches him trying to bundle up the soaked sheets in a panic, she pets his hair and tells him that accidents happen to everyone. But itās clear from the tone and her regretful tutting as she helps him change the bed that itās a thing that shouldnāt happen. He should have better control than this.
But it happens againā¦ and againā¦ and again. And before long he starts trying to knot deliberately. He tries to tell himself itās for practice. To work on his control. But thereās really no excuse for how he gasps and writhes as his knot swells, and he definitely never tries to stop it from happening. Because it just feels. So. Good.
GOING COMMANDO IN SWEATPANTS OH LORDY GOLLY GOSH [hearteyes]
sometimes thatās all I wake up for.
Ā IMAGINING DEREK HALE DRESSING LIKE THIS:
THIS IS ALL HE WEARS WHEN HEāS AT HOME.Ā
FUCK UNDERWEAR.Ā
SWEATPANTS AND BASKETBALL SHORTS AND BAGGY SLEEP PANTS. WIFE BEATERS AND BARELY HELD TOGETHER TANKS THAT HE PROBABLY STOLE FROM STILES OR SCOTT.Ā
AND HEāS NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT ASHAMED WHENEVER STILES BARGES IN AND HIS EYES IMMEDIATELY ZERO IN ON THE OUTLINE OF DEREKāS FLACCID DICK PRESSING AN OUTLINE INTO THE FABRIC.Ā
Whats wrong with this fandom
Itās not even a thing, really.Ā
Derek just likes to be comfy after fighting demons and harpies and whatever the hell else in his tight ass jeans. Itās a blessed reprieve for his dick to just hang there instead of being squashed inside his under armour, or against his leg.Ā
Itās Stiles that is making it a thing by coming over after practice and then taking an overextended eyeful of Derekās crotch. Stiles will drop himself out on the floor or sometimes at the lonely chair-less table to do some homework, and Derek will put himself to work in the kitchen. Derek catches Stiles trying to take surreptitious glances at his junk as he throws together a quick stir fry. Derek always texts Scott to come get some food, which he does; usually carting Liam and Malia behind him.Ā
Liam wrinkles his nose back and at first Derek takes it as a personal affront against his cooking, but the kid always keeps his eyes averted specifically from Derek and it snaps into place quick as lightning. Malia snags a plate of food before Derek can even offer it and then she sits as far away from Stilesā homework pit as she can. As if studying is contagious.Ā
Sometimes Stiles will bring over movies and pop them into the DVD player. He makes it a point to sit at an angle from Derek, so heās in his line of sight. Stiles is about as subtle as a gun, so Derek splays his legs for him. Gets obscenely comfortable on his ratty couch so the line of his dick is clearly visible.Ā
At this rate, Derek is going to be conditioned to keep his cock on display when Stiles is around.Ā
Stiles is making it a thing because the little brat canāt keep his eyes off Derekās junk when itās not being confined by jeans. Heās making up excuses to be at the loft at all occasions, and his scent is of constant arousal. If Derekās lack of shame is turning into the worst kind of peacocking imaginable, itās not his fault. If Stiles finds Derekās sweatpants appealing, then Derekās not going to send him on his way.Ā
Itās fucking weird, but he also knows that Stiles isnāt evil so thatās a plus.
Stiles goes to France for part of his thesis research, looking into the mythology of the werewolf in Europe. He meets a couple of students in Paris and they all make fast friends, heās pretty sure Simone is actually a witch and suspects Liam of being a born were but nobody mentions anything. When it comes to their winter break, Simone invites their little group down to her familyās home in the mountains. Grabbing the opportunity with both hands Stiles gladly packs his warmest jumpers and is reassured by the stories of the big open fire in the family room.
On their second night there is a party at the house, Stiles out with Liam and some of the guys to pick up some booze to get everything started. He returns to the house, big and solidly built of stone and brick, his nose pink and his hands cold. But he forgets all of that when he sees Derek lounging in an armchair in a goddamn orange polo neck jumper looking casual and relaxed right up until he catches Stilesā scent – his head whipping around to stare at him as soon as he does.
Liam immediately looks between Stiles and Derek, confirming Stilesā suspicions about his supernatural leanings, and Stiles is heartened to have him come over and quirk his head to check if Stiles is okay. Itās nice to have new friends who donāt know everything about him, but still support him. So he just smiles and shrugs it off, going to the kitchen to put down the bags of party supplies and to internally freak out that Derek is here. Derek is right here in this house with Stiles in it too. Ā Heās leaning against the wall working out a game plan when Derek ruins it all by walking in and leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest and holy god those arms and shoulders havenāt lost any of their definition.
Stiles slides his hands into his pockets and smirks, almost laughing at this pseudo standoff – so like old times. Derek meets his eyes and his eyebrows shoot up, obviously coming to the same conclusion. He laughs, ducking his head like some kind of Austen heroine and Stiles feels his chest go tight with that familiar longing, after all this time. When Derek looks back up again Stiles smiles, letting his gaze roam over Derek and the new laughter lines around his eyes and the glints of silver in his beard.
āFancy seeing you here?ā
Derek snorts and nods his head.
āYeah, not what I was expecting for the weekendā¦ā Derekās eyes sharpen and he unfolds his arms while taking a step forward, ābut Iām not disappointed, Iām grateful.ā
Stiles closes the distance between them, emboldened by Derekās bright eyes and unexpected candour. They are interrupted by the babble of people coming to raid the new stores of wine and snacks in the kitchen, but stay in each otherās orbit for the rest of the evening. Getting closer and closer until they are sitting on the same armchair, Stiles more in Derekās lap than next to him, Derekās arm wrapped with purpose around Stilesā waist.
Warm from the fire, the wine, and this expected reconnection they end up going to the same guest room when it comes time to go to bed. They just talk, and kiss, and hold each other, catching up on the years between Derek leaving Beacon Hills and them now finding each other again. Itās in the morning, when Stiles brings them both coffee before anyone else is awake (heās an early riser now – howās that for growing up) that they cross the line from gentle touches and kisses to real intent and passion.
Whatever happens, Stiles is going to find a way to make sure he wakes up to this every day for the rest of his life.
Stiles goes to France for part of his thesis research, looking into the mythology of the werewolf in Europe. He meets a couple of students in Paris and they all make fast friends, heās pretty sure Simone is actually a witch and suspects Liam of being a born were but nobody mentions anything. When it comes to their winter break, Simone invites their little group down to her familyās home in the mountains. Grabbing the opportunity with both hands Stiles gladly packs his warmest jumpers and is reassured by the stories of the big open fire in the family room.
On their second night there is a party at the house, Stiles out with Liam and some of the guys to pick up some booze to get everything started. He returns to the house, big and solidly built of stone and brick, his nose pink and his hands cold. But he forgets all of that when he sees Derek lounging in an armchair in a goddamn orange polo neck jumper looking casual and relaxed right up until he catches Stilesā scent – his head whipping around to stare at him as soon as he does.
Liam immediately looks between Stiles and Derek, confirming Stilesā suspicions about his supernatural leanings, and Stiles is heartened to have him come over and quirk his head to check if Stiles is okay. Itās nice to have new friends who donāt know everything about him, but still support him. So he just smiles and shrugs it off, going to the kitchen to put down the bags of party supplies and to internally freak out that Derek is here. Derek is right here in this house with Stiles in it too. Ā Heās leaning against the wall working out a game plan when Derek ruins it all by walking in and leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest and holy god those arms and shoulders havenāt lost any of their definition.
Stiles slides his hands into his pockets and smirks, almost laughing at this pseudo standoff – so like old times. Derek meets his eyes and his eyebrows shoot up, obviously coming to the same conclusion. He laughs, ducking his head like some kind of Austen heroine and Stiles feels his chest go tight with that familiar longing, after all this time. When Derek looks back up again Stiles smiles, letting his gaze roam over Derek and the new laughter lines around his eyes and the glints of silver in his beard.
āFancy seeing you here?ā
Derek snorts and nods his head.
āYeah, not what I was expecting for the weekendā¦ā Derekās eyes sharpen and he unfolds his arms while taking a step forward, ābut Iām not disappointed, Iām grateful.ā
Stiles closes the distance between them, emboldened by Derekās bright eyes and unexpected candour. They are interrupted by the babble of people coming to raid the new stores of wine and snacks in the kitchen, but stay in each otherās orbit for the rest of the evening. Getting closer and closer until they are sitting on the same armchair, Stiles more in Derekās lap than next to him, Derekās arm wrapped with purpose around Stilesā waist.
Warm from the fire, the wine, and this unexpected reconnection they end up going to the same guest room when it comes time to go to bed. They just talk, and kiss, and hold each other, catching up on the years between Derek leaving Beacon Hills and them now finding each other again. Itās in the morning, when Stiles brings them both coffee before anyone else is awake (heās an early riser now – howās that for growing up) that they cross the line from gentle touches and kisses to real intent and passion.
Whatever happens, Stiles is going to find a way to make sure he wakes up to this every day for the rest of his life.
sterek truth spell fic where they both get whammied and at the risk of retaliation Stiles asks Derek, in true Stiles fashion,Ā āare you attracted to me?ā
And Derek pauses a moment before answering,Ā āparts of you.āĀ
Stilesā eyebrows shooting up and before Derek can say anything he asks,Ā āwhat most?ā
Derek answering,Ā āyour lips,ā before shooting back,Ā āyeah? And what about you?ā Not so much upset as slightly put out, itās familiar to Stiles.
Stiles doesnāt have enough time to truly process the whole lips thing, before he responds,Ā āyour deadpan humor.ā
And both of them are equally surprised by the othersā answer. Especially, Derek. Very especially Derek.Ā
Also basically Stiles becomes obnoxious about the lips thing when he puckers them at Derek at every opportunity, until Derek finally just kisses the smug grin off his face.
Later, when Stiles is sprawled atop Derek after theyāve been making out and dry humping on Derekās bed, Stiles says,Ā āI mean Iām definitely attracted to all of you. I just donāt want you to think that I donāt think you have a hot bod.ā
Stilesā dick is still hard against Derekās hip.
āThank you, Stiles. I was worried.ā Derek deadpans.Ā
thanks to carrie for the mix up earlier this week, which reminded me about this prompt. itāsā¦not really about beds, whoops. and i went over the word limit again (1246 words)
Stiles has never seen snow this heavy. In fact, before an hour ago, heād barely seen snow at all; being so close to the coast, a winter wonderland Beacon Hills is not. If heād been expecting it – if he was inside and warm, watching the snow fall through a window – he might be enjoying it, but an hour ago – was it only an hour? Maybe itās been longer; he canāt tell, canāt unbend his fingers to find his phone – it was ninety degrees and sunny, and heās wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and the snowās already up to his shins. Heās never been so cold in his life; heās already lost feeling in his feet and heās not sure which is worse – not being able to feel his feet, or the wet way his jeans cling to his legs, burning colder and colder with every step.
Derekās there. They got separated from the rest of the pack when the storm descended, and the only reason he hasnāt lost Derek in the driving snow is because heās got his fingers curled through the loops of Derekās belt as they trudge through the woods. He canāt feel his fingers, or his arms in general, and he can barely lift his head against the wind. He can hear Derek breathing heavily over the wail of the wind; itās a surprise to Stiles how hard it is to walk through the snow, and thatās with Derek in front of him, forging the path. Heās not sure where theyāre going, not sure Derek knows either – to find the edge of the storm, or the road, or shelter, whichever comes first. Heās scared theyāre lost – that theyāre heading away from the road, that this magical storm wonāt end. Heās heard you get warm when you die of hypothermia, and thatās the only reason he welcomes the sting of snow against his cheeks, but heās getting tired, and heās terrified of whatās going to happen when heās too exhausted to keep lifting his frozen feet.
Derek stops so abruptly that Stiles, too tired to lift his head, walks into his back. Derek doesnāt even snap at him: not a great sign. Any other time, being so close to Derek might have made him hot all over, and he certainly would have welcomed that heat right now, but all he can think about is the refrain that keeps repeating in his head: I donāt want to die, I donāt want to die.
He can still run; can still turn around and flee, because the boyās scent reaches his nose long before the sound of his approaching heartbeat does. It doesnāt matter how good of a sneaker Stiles has become, how he barely makes a sound when walking through the woods. His scent is too strong and too familiar to Derek to go unnoticed. He has no clue how Stiles managed to find him, but at this point Derek has given up on trying to understand how Stiles can do all the things he does. Heāll never stop to surprise.
Derek can still run and escape this, but he doesnāt move.
āYou didnāt think youād be able to leave without saying goodbye, did you?ā
āIsnāt chocolate bad for canines?ā Stiles asked, his elbows on the table, chin in his hands.
Across from him, Derek looked up from his book, spoon full of fancy dark chocolate ice cream halfway to his face. āWhat?ā
āChocolate,ā Stiles repeated, motioning with a flick of his eyes to Derekās pint. āYouāre a werewolf. Shouldnāt you be, like, allergic? Or something.ā
Derek gave him a look that very clearly said he was having an internal struggle about whether or not the ridiculous words coming out of Stilesā mouth merited a coherent response. āIām notā¦ you know Iām not an actual dog, right?ā he said after a few moments. āIām- Iām a supernatural being.ā
Stiles considered this for a moment, before digging his spoon into the melting goop his own ice cream was becoming in the swelter of summer heat that had prompted them to break out the ice cream in the first place. Maybe he would bring up air conditioning again. āBut you turn into a whole actual wolf.ā
āI- ā¦ but thatās notā¦ the same thing,ā Derek said slowly. āIām not becoming a wolf, Iām still just a werewolf, in a wolfā¦ shape.ā
Stiles sighed. āI get why Scott isnāt allergic to chocolate,ā he explained. āBut you were born a werewolf, not a human. So like, arenāt you part wolf?ā
āNo,ā Derek said, and Stiles could hear his patience running thin but this had been bothering him for a while. āIām not part human, part wolf. Iām entirely werewolf.ā
āAnd werewolves are not canines, despite that they turn into actual wolves,ā Stiles said. āSorry, wolf shapes.ā He knew how petty that last word sounded but he didnāt take it back.
āYes,ā Derek agreed. āWe are a completely different species.ā
Stiles sighed, and looked back down to the book he had selected, one of many from the pile they were supposed to be going through. He could feel Derek watching him, but he ignored it, rattling one foot around as his eyes skimmed words his brain didnāt read, until another thought occurred to him.
āWhat kind of lizard do you think a kanima is?ā
The sound of Derekās head hitting the table was highly satisfying.
Fic where Stiles and Derek meet up on the road back to Beacon Hills. Stiles picks Derek up from the bus station in his jeep and they make the drive back together.Ā
They end up at a crappy motel sharing a cramped and miserable queen sized bed. Their shoulders are touching. Stiles is wearing an FBI t-shirt, Derek is bare chest.Ā
Theyāve been catching up. Derek tells Stiles is hair isnāt as atrocious as it used to be. Stiles tells Derek heās getting decrepit and counts his silver beard hairs. Eventually though they probably talk for real. Stiles tells Derek about his FBI program excitedly and Derek tells Stiles about the month he spent in Peru, shows him a picture of himself in a pack of alpacas (which Stiles immediately forwards to his phone).Ā
Theyāre only a day out from Beacon Hills, theyāll be there by this time the next night. Stiles says to Derek, staring up at the ceiling,Ā āwe could be dead tomorrow night.ā
Derek turns to look at him, eyebrow raised, because what else is new.Ā āJust like old times.ā
āYea,ā Stiles says, drawing it out at the end in that way that says something else is coming. He doesnāt disappoint.Ā āExcept, for new times sake I think we should definitely consider having sex.ā
āShould we?ā Derek asks, still looking at him.Ā
āI mean, I already have, and decided yes, we should,ā Stiles tells him,Ā āso really the ball is in your court here.ā Thing is Stiles is almost sure of Derekās answer. He rolls over onto his side and looks at Derek.Ā
Thereās a brief moment of silence where Stiles thinks maybe heās wrong before Derek is kissing him. Stiles falls against the bed and pulls Derek towards him.
Thereās not much talking after that, unless of course you count panting, quiet expletives, Derek whimpering Stilesā name when he gets the third finger in.Ā
When Stiles finally gets his dick in him, Derek pulls Stiles down on top of him, draped over his back. Stiles has a surprising amount of stamina but when he gets really close he moans into the back of Derekās ear,Ā ācan I come in you?āĀ
Derek tightens around Stilesā cock before he can verbally say yes. Stiles smirks into Derekās neck and does. Stiles returns the favor though when he sucks Derek off.
They donāt talk about it, because of the wholeĀ āwe could dieā thing. But they hold hands for most of the last hour of the ride. And when they donāt die, when Stiles finds Derek in the fray he pushes past a colleague to pull him to safety himself.
Stiles had a little bit tried to tell himself the night before was for fun. To satisfy a teenage fantasy the eve before battle. But he knew it was bullshit then and heās too tired and sweaty and hungry and bleedy now to care. Because theyāre alive.
āIām not letting you go,ā Stiles tells Derek, teeth gritted.
āI know,ā Derek grimaces, in pain.Ā
āNo,ā Stiles says, because heās sure Derek doesnāt.Ā āI mean ever. I mean Iāll put a ring on it, a handcuff, a leash,ā Stiles tells him.Ā
āStiles-ā
ā-a subcutaneous chip that will let me always keep track of you.ā When theyāve finally stopped by the perimeter of police and FBI, Derek grabs hold of Stilesā face.
āI love you too,ā Derek says.Ā
āOh good, you got that,ā Stiles nods.Ā āI love you. Big love.ā
shealwaysreads 