Dylan and Linden Ashby on MTV’s Snapchat
Derek takes them both to ComicCon as a Christmas present to Stiles. It was the only thing he could think to do that would show how well he knew his boyfriend and would mean he could enjoy his company at the same time. John was surprised at his invite, but if they’re going to make a detour to San Diego while Stiles is on break, then Derek doesn’t want it to deprive him of any time with his dad. And Derek and the sheriff have been on good terms ever since they spent so much time jointly trying to help Stiles back when the whole nogitsune fiasco went down. So Stiles and the two men that love him most tackle the heart and centre of Stiles’ nerdiness, and it’s the best few days of Derek’s life.
Stiles loses his absolute mind at everything, and demands that they do this again sometime in full cosplay. Derek is only mildly annoyed at all the werewolf cosplay suggestions.
Derek learns that as well as Star Wars, Stiles has a truly breathtaking knowledge of Star Trek and both Marvel and DC comics, as well as a bunch of video games, the details of which Derek can’t really keep up with. But Stiles is as animated as Derek’s ever seen him. Talking to anyone with similar interests, getting photos with cosplayers and complimenting them like mad, pointing out everything and anything that interests him, explaining it to Derek with his eyes big and bright and happy. Derek’s favourite part of this is that Stiles will sometimes rush through a space to get to something interesting, will race up ahead or get stuck behind as Derek moves through the crowd, but he always circles back to Derek, bounding into him with arms around his shoulders and a kiss on the cheek. He’s like a yo-yo the way he darts out and then returns, but it makes Derek feel nice to be the centre point of all that ecstatic movement.
John, before the end of the first day, has somehow ended up with Woody’s hat and badge from a Toy Story costume, and Stiles laughs his ass off about it. As much as they needle him about it John won’t explain how it happened, but he gets pretty close to a blush. Turns out, John is a hit at ComicCon. Even with the costume items making him look softer his air of authority is clear and the second time he tells a guy off for being lude about a female cosplayer, someone buys him a free coffee and then he’s off, lost into the crowd. Derek and Stiles don’t see him until hours later when he resurfaces, telling them about all the lovely people he’s met. He shows them a photo of a little girl sitting on his shoulders in a Buzz Lightyear onesie and Stiles makes a breathless, choking sound, clutching at his heart as John tells them about it.
Stiles discovers that Derek has a deep and timeless love for obscure sci fi and fantasy novels from the 80s, watches him have an in-depth meta conversation with an artist at a stall selling art for some sci fi series Stiles has never heard of, watches Derek’s face light up when the woman mentions something he’d never thought of before. He determines that whatever gets Derek to have that expression on his face is clearly worth a look, and Stiles decides he’s going to find out what these books are and read them and maybe give Derek a themed birthday party or something. Because the only other times Derek looks like that are when he’s talking about Cora or Stiles, and Stiles wants more of it. He is absolutely delighted when Derek, after talking for close to 45 minutes, ends up with 3 novelty t-shirts with various books’ cover art on them – being out of BH means his shirts have a longer life expectancy – and a web address to join an online fan forum. (Stiles is also ridiculously grateful that this whole trip isn’t just about him, but that his boyfriend is actually enjoying himself, too).
ComicCon is like Disneyland for Stiles and that view of it rubs off on Derek and the sheriff until they’re all walking around with a steady buzz of amazement and low key happiness; and they get to do more tomorrow. Derek has spent a large portion of the day taking photos of Stiles and John, but this one, when they’re dead tired but more relaxed than they have been for a long time, is probably his favourite. He sends it to Cora and Lydia, the former sending him a bunch of sick faces and tongue-out faces which he translates to ‘stop being cute and gross’ and the latter sending back a ‘glad you’re all having a good time’ with two kissy faces. And yeah, that about sums it up.
He also sends copies of the photos to John’s phone, and over dinner John looks at him with the look of a man quietly grateful for his lot in life, and when he claps Derek on the shoulder before retiring to his room, Stiles says, ‘Oh man, you’re really in for it now. He’s keeping you.’
Derek snorts, ‘I’d hope that’s because you’re keeping me.’
‘Well yeah, obviously. But now it’s on pain of death, or just, on pain of disappointing my dad forever otherwise.’
When Derek gets out of the bathroom in their hotel room a little while later, though, he’s pretty sure that Stiles is keeping him forever anyway. Given that he’s dug out one of Derek’s graphic tees from his favourite book series, and is wearing that but nothing else as he reclines on the bed with a smirk.
Derek rolls his eyes, but he also grins and tackles him to the bed, so Stiles counts it as a win.
………………………………………
Oh god guys, I wrote this on my phone and now my thumbs hurt and I’m late, I was THAT emotional and overcome by this photo. Whoops. I’ve never been to ComicCon so stuff is probably inaccurate but just roll with it, okay? Okay.
Tag: fluff
doesitlooklikeiwantedtoknowthat:
ok but singer!derek and deaf!stiles where Derek sings to Stiles at night when they’re curled together in bed and Stiles lays his fingers against Derek’s throat to feel the vibrations from his voice
Derek gets back late. Stiles is still awake and sitting up in bed. When Derek spots him there, he hovers in the doorway and watches— the way Stiles is squinting down at the book resting on his thighs as his glasses slowly, slowly slip down his up-turned nose, and the way Stiles is biting the thick knuckle of his index finger in concentration. It’s something Derek doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to, coming home to share a bed with someone who he adores.
Light eyes glint like warm whiskey as Stiles glances over at the clock on the wall, and the younger man falters slightly as he spots Derek leaning against the jam of the door. Smiling coyly, Stiles pulls off his glasses and folds his book shut. Derek is at the side of the bed the second Stiles has set his things on the bedside table.
“Hi, baby.” Derek says— Stiles can’t hear him, but that keen gaze of his catches the words on his lips, and Stiles’ smile only grows.
Stiles signs rapidly at him, fingers moving faster than Derek can read the words in them, and he laughs and shakes his head as he signs back. ‘Slow down.’
Stiles blushes for a moment, and his voice is thick and not quite right when he speaks, but Derek thinks he sounds like perfection. ”Sorry.”
“I don’t mind,” Derek tells him and Stiles is smiling again.
Long, deft fingers reach for him, and Stiles pushes Derek’s coat off of his shoulders and then ushers him into bed at his side. Derek leans in and presses the sweetest kiss to Stiles’ cheek. Stiles lets out a hum, those fingers curling into Derek’s shirt and pulling him close and under the sheets until their legs are perfectly tangled. Stiles doesn’t care that Derek still smells like sweat and beer from the bar he’d been performing at. Wrapping his arms around Stiles’ lithe form, he lets their foreheads rest together until Stiles jabs him in the shoulder.
Pulling back, Derek just raises a brow. Stiles signs something, and Derek smiles dopily. ”What do you want to ‘hear’?”
Stiles seems to consider that for a moment. Then, he signs again, and Derek’s expression softens. Nodding, he shifts until he can catch one of Stiles’ hands. Derek brings it up to his mouth, kissing the tip of each of Stiles’ fingers, and then he lays it against his throat.
He sings softly for Stiles, and admires the way the younger man’s lashes contrast so prettily with his skin as Stiles closes his eyes.
“Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
take these broken wings and learn to fly.
All your life,
you were only waiting for this moment to arise…”
It’s so beautiful
I can’t thinking about how Stiles would react to Derek with that full beard. Imagine more omega!stiles. He would be in heat an entirely month
I think the thing about omega!Stiles is that he’s never been one for those stereotypical alphas at all. Sure, during his heats his body wants what it wants, but ask him during literally any other time he’ll always pick a nice beta or fellow omega, or, in a pinch, an atypical and less jacked-up-testosterone-bomb of an alpha.
In Stiles’ experience, alphas are more often than not complete assholes, and Stiles’ life is too short for this, frankly.
Then, along comes Derek. He looks like every single horrible alpha stereotype. Too preoccupied with how large he can make his muscles and how tight he can make his jeans to make sure his junk is always prominently on display. Ugh. Stiles is just not into it, have some fucking tact.
But, in spite of himself, he finds himself really loving that beard. Loving it to a point where he maybe facebook stalks Derek just a little bit. Just to check out the beard. Maybe he could make Scott try for a beard, just to have a beard in his circle of friends and maybe get over this weird beard obsession. He’d grow one himself, but past attempts had proved to a devasting degree how pathetic a beard his body can manage even under the best of circumstances.
It gets worse, though, when he happens to end up next to Derek for a while at a casual party, and he smells amazing. Alphas usually smell good from sheer chemistry, but Derek is a whole other level. Stiles wants to rub himself all over that.
He assumes his heat is just coming on early, and spends a weird three weeks expecting it to hit any day, only for it to not happen at all. He even goes to the doctor, who tells him his hormone levels show that his heat is on schedule to arrive a month later like expected.
It doesn’t make sense.
Another party comes up, and Stiles subtly passes Derek a few times just to test… and yes, Derek smells just as amazing as last time.
So he’s forced to conclude that not only does he have a kink for salt-and-pepper beard (but only Derek’s for some reason. Other beards don’t seem to have the same effect, what the fuck…) but his body has also apparently decided that they have amazing physical chemistry. But the muscles alone… no, there’s no way Derek isn’t a dick, Stiles is just not getting anywhere near that. He loves himself too much, okay.
Thing is, though, heat partners are a thing, and Stiles is not an idiot. His heat-ridden self would weep with joy from having Derek around to fuck him through the floor for those two-three days until he regains the use of his senses. So he sends Derek the paperwork, all nice and neutral to avoid anyone feeling pressured, and the papers come back all filled out and signed. They even match up almost exactly on the “will do, won’t do” list. Derek has a thing about his stomach being touched too much, and Stiles doesn’t want to be called degrading names. Sure, in heat he’d lap it up, but afterwards he’d feel dirty.
Anywho, heat comes up and Stiles barely even remembers it afterwards. He’s already way into the heat daze when Derek arrives, and barely has enough sense to reconfirm his consent before it’s on. Three amazing days pass, and Stiles’ spank bank is filled for the next several years.
Thing is, he does have vague memories of Derek being very tender and caring, and judging from the food wrappers and empty water bottles in the trash, neatly put away by the time Stiles wakes up alone on day four, Derek had been diligent in his caretaker duties as well. So he forced to admit that Derek is at least a marginally nice person.
But he’s still a jacked up alpha, and Stiles isn’t into that.
Except, two heats later Stiles isn’t so sure. Day three hadn’t even really been a heat for the last one, he’d been so thoroughly sated. But he hadn’t said anything when he woke up and got Derek worked up for another round, and Derek hadn’t commented on the lack of heat scent on him. It had been almost a full day of just… lounging around, having lazy sex and eating junk food. And they didn’t talk about it.
But, as was mentioned earlier, Stiles isn’t actually an idiot, despite what Lydia likes to say. So he pulls himself together and has a talk with Derek. Which ends with a date. And then another date, and oh god, only a few weeks later Stiles has to eat his words and admit to the world and himself that Derek is a completely nice guy. He does like to work out a lot, but seems mostly uninterested in how it makes his body look. He does spend quite a lot of time and product on his beard and hair, but Stiles is into that, so win/win.
And most of all, Derek is just incredibly kind and caring, and admits to Stiles during a post-coital snuggle that he was shocked beyond belief when he presented as an alpha. He’d literally never thought it possible.
Cue some very interesting conversations and kink discussions, and okay, Stiles is gonna marry this man, there’s literally no force on earth that can stop him.
And they fucked happily ever after. ❤
i trust you
happy birthday to my beautiful and wonderful friend, savannah (@halesstiles)!! i’m sorry i’m a little late babe. hope you like this
synopsis; 5 times Stiles tells Derek he trusts him + 1 time Derek tells Stiles.
ONE
Derek grunted, pulling the succubus off of Stiles in a quick, precise motion, his claws sinking into the flesh. He flung his arm to the side, panting slightly at the surprising amount of effort that he required before swiftly pulling Stiles to his feet.
“Alright?” His breath came out unevenly. He tried not to stare as he took in Stiles’ form. His shirt was tattered, showing bruises where the succubus had gripped him harder than he thought. The bruises followed the curve up Stiles’ neck, new ones beginning to show up slowly but surely. Derek sucked in a sharp breath when he saw a bite at the edge of Stiles’ jaw.
Stiles furrowed his brow, glancing over Derek’s shoulder towards the rest of his packmates, taking care of the succubus. His body stiffened as Stiles moved to wrap his hands around himself, pushing his shoulder back, and breathing in deeply. His eyes flitted over to meet Derek’s as he muttered, “Barely.”
Derek nodded, “That was a close one.” He moved to put his hand behind Stiles, ready to lead him towards the Camaro, before stopping. Noticing Stiles’ shivering form, he removed his own shirt. He offered it to Stiles. His eyes flushed as their fingers brushed, Stiles’ face already forming a smirk at his response. He glared without any heat.
Once again, his hand found itself lingering behind Stiles’ back, ready to lead him to the Camaro, but faltering when he realized that Stiles might not want to be touched after something so violating like that. He swallowed a lump in his throat; he wanted to comfort Stiles—if only he knew how.
There was a small pressure against his hand until all that he could feel was the soft cotton of his own shirt. His fingers sunk into the material, only the soft cloth forming the barrier between them. Derek’s eyes snapped to meet Stiles’ brown ones, a confused whine sneaking out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
Stiles shook his head. He moved his hands up, one resting on Derek’s shoulder as the other caressed his cheek. “It’s alright.”
“I don’t—I mean—I don’t understand …” Derek stumbled over his words, distracted as Stiles rubbed his thumb on his shoulder.
Stiles smiled. “I trust you.”
Together
Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Rating: G, Word Count: 249
Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, POV Stiles
♥
Read on AO3‘What are you doing?’ Derek asks.
‘Watching the snow,’ Stiles says.
‘I can see that. Why?’
‘Because it’s snowing.’
Derek huffs. There’s a bit of scuffle behind Stiles as
Derek steps outside while trying to keep Lykos inside. He fails, and their
black Lab races into their front yard, biting at the snowflakes.‘Are you ever surprised that we got here?’ Stiles muses.
‘Me finding you on our porch freezing your ass off? No.’
Stiles chuckles. He is pretty cold, no wonder considering
he’s wearing only his pyjamas and a pair of socks.‘But it’s our
porch. You and me. Together. We have
a normal life now.’‘I wouldn’t call our life normal.’
‘Dude, we have a date night. A date night. I don’t think it can get more normal than that.’
Derek hums and sits down next to him. He’s a little more
sensibly dressed in sweatpants, a sweater, and boots. Stiles grabs Derek’s arm
to throw it over his shoulder, and cuddles into his partner’s side.‘Do you have any regrets?’
‘There are some things I’d like to have done
differently,’ Derek admits.‘Even if it would’ve meant us not ending up here?’ Stiles
looks up at him, his chest warming at the soft smile on Derek’s face. Or maybe
that’s the hypothermia setting in.‘I’m pretty confident we would’ve ended up here anyway.’
‘With you finding me on our porch freezing my ass off?’
Stiles grins.Derek laughs and presses his face in Stiles’ hair.
‘Sap.’
[Insert Smut Here]
Stiles rolled over, entirely too smug for his own good. The bastard. “You owe me, like, five pizzas, dude. I’m wiped.”
Derek tried to glare in his boyfriend’s general direction but he could barely lift his head. Fuck. “Pizzas were never part of this challenge,” he managed instead, groaning when he shifted onto his side. He was sore everywhere, and it wasn’t even morning yet.
Stiles just smirked. “I just gave you four orgasms in three hours. I’m awesome. I deserve pizza. I deserve curly fries and pizza.” Reaching out, he ran his fingers through Derek’s sweat soaked hair, his eyes lighting up with something Derek was still scared of knowing.
That Stiles loved him.
Moving closer again – a huge feat, Derek was the one that deserved a reward, here- he rested his head on Stiles’ chest, breathing in his scent. Their scents. It was something he was still getting used to. “This first,” he whispered, “pizza later.”
Stiles laughed, as if Derek had said something particularly funny, before bringing his arms down to hold him to him. “Man, I must have fucked you good. I’m going to buy myself a card. Possibly a t shirt.” He laughed again and high fived himself.
Derek rolled his eyes. “I’ll buy you a shut up, if you continue to ruin my afterglow.” The words made no sense, but as usual, Stiles got it. He always got it. He got it even when the only thing Derek managed to say was nothing at all.
“Whatever you say, big guy. Whatever you say.”
fake dating trope subversion
It’s only six in the evening on a Thursday, but the bar near Stiles’ work is already half full. Not so packed that he wants to find another place to drink, but busy enough that he has to wait a few minutes for the bartender to get to him.
During that waiting period, a guy sidles in close to Stiles and offers to buy his drink for him. The man is taller than Stiles by a few inches, and he uses his height to his advantage by standing so close that he’s almost hovering over Stiles, clearly posturing. It makes Stiles roll his eyes.
“No thanks, man. I’ve got it.”
Apparently the lack of eye contact, the verbal brush-off, and the general fuck-off vibes Stiles is giving off aren’t doing it for the guy because he says, “Come on. It’s a free drink. You can’t say no to that.”
Stiles stops trying to get the bartender’s attention to look the guy straight in the eyes and say, “No.”
today at the bus station I saw two boys talking, one of them going on and on about school and the things he’s learning and the other leaning towards him and flirting and playing with his neck while the other just went on completely oblivious and it was just so damn cute
@crossroadswrite, @pale-silver-comb, @bleep0bleep and @poetry-protest-pornography
GIVE US SOME FLUFF PLEASE, YOUNG DEREK BEING SHY AND OBVLIOUS AND STILES USING HIS DORK STILINSKI CHARM TO WOO HIM
(i was tagged in this thing TWICE one by @adrihenriquez12 and one by my most lovely @hoechlinslapsdylansbutt and bells with the little request above so i’m pretty sure i have to do it now
*shakes fist* curse your inevitable use of my one true weakness, bby!derek hale being a sweet cutie pie)
Technically, Stiles doesn’t need to ride the bus.
Technically, he has a car and a license and enough allowance money to fill the tank, so Stiles has no need whatsoever to ride the bus to and from school every single day.
Logically, he shouldn’t even want to. It’s loud (which Stiles doesn’t really have a problem with), the driver is permanently stoned and infringes a traffic law at least thrice a day, the seats are uncomfortable and there’s always that one asshole who likes to tease Stiles (which Stiles does have a problem with).
His baby blue Jeep is infinitely better than the bus. There’s just one little thing that Stiles’ Jeep doesn’t have.
“-it’s not as if pre-history isn’t fun, but it’s just not as cool as actual history. There’s barely any records at all of anything, there’s a truly uncomfortable amount of speculation and I just don’t think-” Derek continues ranting, looking over at Stiles for support and Stiles dutifully nods because what else can he do?
Ladies, gents and everyone else in-between and beyond, meet Derek Hale, known history nerd, co-captain of the basketball team, honorary boy scout and Stiles’ crush since forever.
So here he is. Riding the stinky, uncomfortable bus because Derek is in it and honestly these few minutes Stiles gets with Derek, without Derek’s small hoarde of adoring fans and scary friends are precious to him.
Let me help you by Smowkie (1517 words)
Summary:
“That’s it, there you go,” Stiles said softly and Derek groaned as he leaned his stiff and newly healed body against Stiles’ bare chest. “Just a little longer before you can go to bed.”
–
After a fight with some unnamed big bad Stiles takes care of Derek.
For the awesome @ladydrace, because it’s her BIRTHDAY! Happy birthday, you wonderful human you!
IT WAS SO WONDERFUL, AND I LOVED IT! ❤ ❤ ❤
i want you to know that because of your recents tw reblogs i have gotten back into reading fic and NOW THIS HAPPENS GOD NO I DON’T WANT IT BUT I DO??????? (not the show though, that can fuck off but definitely more fics that end with a HAPPY SOFT AND GOOD DEREK HALE LIFE??????)
I don’t know what to say other than I’M SORRY. I’m sorry that I helped reinfect you. I managed to get clean for awhile, but then I fell off the wagon last year and now I’m causing other people to hurl themselves back into the trashpile??????? MEA VERY CULPA.
But seriously, I have long felt that every scene of Derek bleeding and/or being electrocuted and/or being made to feel guilt feelings and/or watching everything and everyone he loves die screaming should be matched with a MINIMUM of 37 new fanfics where he worries about Important Issues such as the following:
-Is he using fabric softener correctly??????
-Since he is A Millennial, is he to blame for the housing market? It is true that he does like avocado toast, and that he does not want to buy a new house, but they are unrelated, inasmuch as his feelings on the second matter are more related to the “everyone he loves dies screaming” history rather than a problem with student loans and stagnant wages
-He doesn’t want the new AirBuds, he prefers having an actual cord, because he just knows that if he has an accidental backflip situation one of them will fall out
-Why don’t his kale chips come out right? He is following the recipe!!! He has seen Cora make them and he is doing everything she does! What is he doing wrong????
-He feels like the chipotle mayo at his favorite deli has changed, and he isn’t sure what is different, and he kind of wants to ask about it but he’s not sure if he’s “there yet” when it comes to chatting with service employees like a normal person
-why can’t he find that video of an elephant painting a painting? He watched it just a few weeks ago, and now he can’t remember how he found it the first time, and it is super frustrating
-there is a cat that lives outside his building, and it looks like she is maybe pregnant, and he is worried that she won’t be able to find a nice warm and dry space to have her babies, but he isnt sure what to do about it
-agribusiness practices“I’m worried about her,” Derek says, his face twisting in concern.
Stiles is debating the best way to get his laptop to run faster, so he only half-hears what Derek is saying. “Worried about who?”
“It’s been two months,” Derek continues, “or close to it. She’s probably pretty close to giving birth and I’m not sure if she has a safe place to do it. It’s supposed to rain all week.”
Stiles has just discarded “throwing it out the window” as an option for dealing with his laptop–he cannot afford a new one–when he registers what it is that Derek’s said. He whips around from his perch on the barstool and nearly sends his water bottle careening to the ground. “Wait, what? Giving birth? Who’s pregnant? Is it Cora? Oh God, is it Lydia? Wait, no, I’d have noticed that.”
Derek finally turns to look at him–he’s been staring broodily out the window for the past ten minutes–and gives Stiles the most patently unimpressed bitch face on the planet. “I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about Cocoa.”
This is a new name. “Cocoa,” Stiles repeats, hoping Derek will take the clue and elaborate.
“The black cat who lives in the alley?” Derek says, like this is something Stiles should just know. “The one I’ve been feeding every day for the past four months?”
“I know you think I know everything about everyone, big guy, and I do appreciate that assessment of my abilities, but I have actually been more concerned with college recently,” Stiles points out.
Derek rolls his eyes, but thankfully doesn’t press the point. He turns back to the window and fixes his glare there.
“So why don’t you take her to the vet or something?” Stiles asks.
“She won’t let me get near enough,” Derek says. “She’ll eat the food I let out, but she still won’t let me pet her.”
He sounds so sad about this. Stiles tries very hard not to find it adorable, and fails utterly. “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he says, in an effort to make Derek feel better. “You can probably just put out a bucket or something for her? A makeshift shelter that’ll stay dry?”
“Yeah,” Derek says, still staring off into the alley. “Maybe.”
***
Stiles returns the next week to find a loud black cat and four tiny, mewling, equally black kittens lounging on a blanket pallet in Derek’s guest room.
“Not a word,” Derek orders him.
Stiles holds up his hands and smirks. “I didn’t say anything.”
“For once,” Derek mutters.
Stiles lets him have that one. Besides, he didn’t say anything about no pictures, and Stiles is more than happy to snap roughly 300 photos of Derek Hale and the tiny black kittens and save them all for when he needs to coo over the most adorable thing in the world.
shealwaysreads 