- Jim’s an expert at speed dating. He does it regularly, known by the event organisers by name and phone number, probably. Jim’s usually there to meet casual fun, the occasional one- to two months worth of a relationship if the girl keeps him interested enough. It’s really not the girls’ fault he doesn’t usually stick around; Jim loves the thought of a relationship, but it also terrifies him. He knows he’ll find someone, eventually, but for now, he’s all about having a little fun.
- Leonard actually sits down at the table next to him, and he’s a face Jim’s never seen before. “You done this speed dating thing before?” he asks, and Leonard shakes his head. “No, my friend signed me up for this shit. What do you even say to a dozen girls you only get two minutes to talk to?” He asks, and Jim laughs. “I’d start with hello,” he replies.
- Jim scores a few numbers by the end of the night, and Leonard does, too. “See? Not that hard,” Jim says, “any one of them catch your eye?” “It’s a bit soon to tell, isn’t it?” Leonard asks, and Jim shrugs. “Speed dating is all about instant chemistry. No time to overthink things.” “Are you an expert on this?” Leonard asks, and Jim laughs, shrugging lightly. “Sort of.” “Not sure if that’s a good thing,” Leonard says with a small grin, “I’m going to watch a football match in O’Reilleys. D’you want to join?” Jim’s up instantly, grabbing his coat. “Hell yes.”
- Jim scores another number that night, but it’s not romantic. He just thinks he found himself a new friend, which is cool. They text a lot, and Jim finds out Leonard is a doctor. That means he’s smart, too, and Jim learns that Leonard’s also pretty witty. Quite quickly, casually texting here and there turns to continuous, long conversations about everything and nothing, and Jim’s up way past midnight just staring at his screen waiting for a reply. They meet up occasionally to watch a game together, or they just eat a Taco Bell or whatever, and end up loudly discussing movies, politics, and other things.
- “Hey,” Jim says, smiling lightly when Leonard slides down at the chair in front of him. Their restaurant choice is a bit more fancy than usual, but Jim picked it purposely because Leonard’s been complaining Jim’s continuous fast food habit is unhealthy. Maybe, partially, also to impress Leonard with his actual decent restaurant finding skills, maybe he just wants to impress Leonard in general. “Is this place not too fancy for you?” Leonard asks, and Jim grins. “Shut the hell up and order the cheapest thing on the menu, please,” he jokes. Because really, Jim has money. He’s a pretty decent salesman. “Oh yeah? Maybe I want the lobster,” Leonard replies, and Jim smiles fondly. “Then we’ll get you the lobster.”
- After dinner, a mere few hours have passed and Jim feels a bit on edge. Doesn’t know what it is, he just likes having Leonard around him. “I got a new car,” Jim says, “want to join me taking her for a spin?” “Where are we even going, then?” Leonard asks, and Jim shrugs. “I dunno, does it matter?”
- It’s a pretty good car. Pretty fast, pretty sleek. Leonard looks impressed, although only mildly so, and mostly jokes about Jim’s premature midlife crisis. Jim doesn’t even know where they’re going. They’re just talking, deep in conversation about everything between their favorite football teams, work, and the space colony going to Mars (“Doesn’t it sound fun?” Jim asks, and Leonard makes a face. “No! That sounds absolutely terrible!”).
- Jim knows they’ve reached their destination once they hit the beach. The parking lot at the dunes is abandoned, the sun is nearly completely set, and the sky still has some bright pink and orange, but it’s fading. Sitting outside on the hood of the car is soothing, as are the quiet waves of the ocean. “I can’t figure you out,” Leonard says, and Jim raises an eyebrow. “What d’you mean?” he asks. “You act all cool, but you’re the most romantic person I’ve ever met. Besides myself. Just how are you single?” He asks, and Jim laughs. “Shut up, dude.” “Look where you brought me,” Leonard says, “if you brought your actual date here, you’d get laid in that dumb sports car of yours.” Jim would’ve thought about that further, maybe, but instead he turns to Leonard with a frown. “What do you mean, dumb car?!”
- It’s well past midnight by the time Jim drops Leonard off at his house. “Did you enjoy yourself?” Jim asks, and Leonard laughs. “What am I, your date? Want to go again?” “Obviously,” Jim replies, and he wants to give him a joking grin, but instead he must have looked rather fondly. “Really, you’d just drop off your date like that?” Leonard asks. “Hey, I don’t end a good date without a kiss,” Jim says, and Leonard glances in his direction. Jim catches him looking. Catches him leaning in, too, and Jim finds himself leaning in as well. Kissing Leonard is the weirdest sensation. It’s thrilling, the kind that sends shivers down his spine, and Jim just pulls Leonard in closer when the other even leans slightly away. “Jim,” Leonard breathes against his lips, and the way he speaks in such a hushed voice makes it even better. Jim wants to hear more of that breathless voice, his name called out in a quiet whisper. “Can we just continue this inside?” Leonard asks, and Jim raises his eyebrow. “Inside, really? You’re that into me, huh?” “Shut up,” Leonard laughs, “my neck hurts from being turned like this. There’s plenty of positions inside that are much more comfortable,” Leonard replies, and Jim glances at him for just a second, before nodding. “Yeah,” he says, his hand on Leonard’s thigh, “different positions work for me.”
Tag: fluff
That’s Distracting!
Summary: Maybe it was the fact that he refused to leave that one fact off the profile that his friends set up for him. Maybe it was that he didn’t want to lie about her. Still, his plan is to come in, cancel the date, and leave.
Plans apparently change.A/N: Inspired by this gifset (and some of the tag replies with fic ideas – though I did go in a different direction). Happy birthday, @emoussie (sorry I’m late!) ❤️
pre-Derek/Stiles || G || ~1400w || AO3
It feels like it’s been forever since he’s done this, and like he should’ve known it was going to go badly. He isn’t even sure why he let Erica and Isaac talk him out of deleting the profile they set up for him. What he understands even less is why he looked at it, or why he clicked on that one profile that caught his eye.
Derek huffs in frustration as he weaves through the crowds in the mall and heads towards the food court. It seemed like a good idea the night before, a public place, open and safe, somewhere that provided an easy way out. Now, he’s wondering if it won’t be a little too easy. Not for him, but…
He spots the messy brown hair as soon as he leaves the elevator, and he also sees the brown eyes below the hair widen in surprise. They’re what attracted him to the profile in the first place, and his breath catches now that he sees them in person, even brighter and more attractive than in the photo.
“Derek?”
It’s odd to have a voice to match the face, and he only manages to nod in confirmation.
“Wow, you’re…”
“I’m sorry,” Derek interrupts. “I should’ve just messaged you, but I don’t know if you’d check the app this close to the meeting…”
He huffs when he feels the kick against his hip. The carrier is digging into his shoulders in a way that’s both familiar and unsettling.
“Who’s this?” Stiles asks, eyes straying from Derek’s face to the baby strapped to Derek’s chest.
The question is simple and so sincere that Derek doesn’t think twice before replying automatically.
“Lia, my daughter,” he says, his hand coming up to catch her flailing arm before she hits him in the face.
It wouldn’t be her first time.
grimm was feeling pretty down so here’s something to cheer you up. I wanted to something more better but art emo is a bitch and won’t go away.
Muffled, from the other side of the door – Stiles/Derek
I changed door to window, oops.
“Stiles, you’re 17 years old. You can’t possibly know what love is, let alone be in love!” The sheriff is yelling down stairs. If Derek knew what was happening in the house he wouldn’t have snuck in through the window. He guesses Stiles finally told his dad about them.
Fuck.
“You have no idea what I can and can’t know!” Stiles yells back. Whatever transpired between the Stilinski men in the last few minutes obviously hasn’t gone as well as Derek hoped it would. He was kind of hoping that John would be a little man, but ultimately accept them, and invite him over for dinner.
“You’re 17! He’s 25!” John yells again, Derek scents the air and smells whiskey in the distant. “I can have him arrested for statutory rape!” There is a bit of a scuffle like Stiles is trying to wrestle the phone away from his dad.
“Don’t!” Feet pound up the stairs and in seconds Stiles is at the door. Derek moves to the window, knowing he isn’t welcome.
“Mieczyslaw!” John is right behind him.
“Dad stop!” Derek can smell tears and he knows their Stiles’. He slips out the window and shuts it, but stay on the roof. Stiles’ room fills with light from the hallway. “You don’t know what I have been through the last 3 years. Derek has been there for me. Just because you know about all the shit that goes bump in the night doesn’t mean what he’s done for me, and what I’ve done for him goes away.”
John says something else, but he’s still out in the hallway, and it’s hard to hear.
“Just go away. I’m done talking to you dad.” Stiles slams the door and the light that came in from the hallway is gone. The springs from the bed squeal as Stiles falls onto the mattress. The same mattress that a couple days ago the shared while the sheriff pulled a double shift at the station.
Soft sobs come through the air, and Derek really wants to go in, but he also feels like he really shouldn’t. Whatever this is, it’s between Stiles and his dad.
Derek hears a soft, “fuck,” and his heart breaks a little bit. A knock comes from the door and a blur of light comes into the room.
“Kiddo,” John’s voice pipes up. Stiles doesn’t say anything back. The light goes away, but now there are two heartbeats in the room.
“I love him dad,” it muffled, and so soft Derek almost misses him.
Hearing it, is something Derek didn’t expect. The three words he’s been wanting to say for a while now but he never knew if Stiles felt the same way. Things are still kind of new, he didn’t want to say something too soon and ruin whatever this, whatever they, could be.
“I’m not happy about this kiddo. But if you love him, the least I can do is invite the guy over for dinner.” The springs squeak as John sits on the mattress too.
Derek feels weird listening to anymore, so he jumps off the roof and makes his way home. The words Stiles saying swirling around in his head. When he gets home, he gathers enough courage to text Stiles.
He says: “Goodnight Stiles. I love you.” And waits for a response.
It comes nearly an hour later and it says: “Goodnight Der, love you too”
Derek falls asleep easily that night, knowing Stiles loves him, and he loves Stiles.
In another life….
In another life Stiles rolled over and the bed was still warm from where Derek had been sleeping just minutes before. The house smells like coffee and he can hear Derek talking to the dog while he makes breakfast.
In another life Derek throws his head back in a laugh when Officer Stiles Stilinski accidentally set his fire alarm off one night while making popcorn and offers to teach him some fire safety tips when he’s off duty.
In another life two grad students bond over their TA positions and how much extra work they have. Stiles ends up bringing Derek a coffee the next morning and the rest is history.
In another life Stiles falls for the tattooed barista. It turns out he’s a writer and the tattoos are for his family that died. It turns out they both found each other when they needed someone the most.
In another life professional baseball player Derek Hale ends up falling for a up and coming ESPN reporter. When he retires 15 years later he’s happily married to him and they cohost a new show for the network.
In another life.
In another life they’re happy. In another life Derek stayed. In another life there are no werewolves and no dead family members.
In another life Derek wakes to the sound of laughter and tiny feet.
In another life Stiles catches a serial killer and goes home to his bearded husband making him dinner.
In another life.
In another life.
But not in this life… at least not yet.
Fight
This is more like ‘fight for me’ but whatever what you gon do ‘fight me?’ badumtss
Derek get’s the call at about 4:00 in the afternoon; which is the perfect time to get a call to come bail out his emissary from jail.
“You know your dad is the Sheriff, right?” Derek asks, smirking.
“Shut up. Are you gonna come get me or what?” Stiles asks down the line.
“Of course I will, Stiles,” Derek says, “I would never miss the opportunity to see you behind bars.”
“Stop smiling,” Stiles says. Derek doesn’t. “Your face is all ugly when you smile. Hideous. Also go fuck yourself,” he finishes.
“I don’t think I have that kink,” Derek gets out before the line goes dead.
—-
When he gets to the station the Sheriff is talking in his office with an irate man (Alpha werewolf if he’s technical) and Scott. He hears enough of the conversation to gather Stiles was in an…altercation…with their own emissary.
When he’s lead to the familiar cell Stiles has a bruise blooming beneath his left eye across his cheek bone, and his middle and ring finger are bound together in a splint.
“Sup.” Stiles greets, standing.
“How’d that meeting go?” Derek asks. Stiles throws him a sarcastic smirk and nod.
“Peachy keen, jellybean. Drafting up peace treaties now,” Stiles says.
“What happened?” Derek asks, as Stiles is let out of his cell.
“You know my policy, Derek,” Stiles says, as they’re led back to the front of the station. “Talk shit, get hit.”
“And someone got hit?” Derek asks, a facade of surprise.
“Someone talked shit,” Stiles corrects. Derek raises his brows as he signs Stiles to freedom.
“And then yes, someone earned themselves a broken nose. There was blood, loud crunching, it was very satisfying overall and 100% justified,” Stiles says.
“I’m sure,” Derek smirks, and he’s teasing but Stiles stops just outside the station and gives him this look, it’s a frustrated sort of expression he saw on Laura’s face a lot over the years.
“If someone is talking shit about someone I care about, then yeah,” Stiles huffs, stalking up to Derek. “Totally justified.” Derek just watches him make his way to the waiting Toyota, climb into the passenger’s seat and slam the door.
—-
Derek makes the erroneous assumption that Stiles’ intensity, loyalty, and fist were thrown in Scott’s or his maybe his father’s defense. Derek had barely anything to do with the exchange happening between Scott’s pack, to which he feels only a faint tether to, these days, and the incoming pack.
He is there, at Scott’s, however, later that night when Kira says to Stiles, in sympathy, “he definitely had it coming, Stiles, those things he said about Derek were really over the line.
Stiles doesn’t say anything but his face reddens and Derek can hear the uptick in his heartbeat.
—-
Stiles freezes and he feels his face redden and Kira realizes her mistake and it just sort of makes it worse. He waits until Derek gets accosted in a momentary distraction to bid a hasty retreat.
Still, he doesn’t make it to the jeep before he hears Derek say his name from Scott’s porch behind him. Stiles stops but he doesn’t turn around, instead waits for Derek to come to him.
“So, what did he say?” Derek asks. Stiles shakes his head.
“I didn’t tell you when you bailed me out and I’m not planning on telling you now. And I know you wouldn’t ask anyone else,” Stiles says. He’s gratified by the look on Derek’s face.
“You’re right, I wouldn’t,” Derek says. “But they also didn’t punch a guy in the face over it.”
Stiles shrugs, “I would have done it for anyone, you’re not special,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. But there’s nothing behind the words but a petty huff. Derek is smirking.
“Stop smiling,” Stiles says. “Your face will get stuck like that, then where will your reputation be?” Stiles warns him.
Derek laughs and Stiles tries not to. His heart is pounding again.
“Thank you,” Derek says, there’s still a trace of the grin in the tilt of his lips but his tone is sincere. “Not so much for recklessly punching someone in the face so much as the sentiment.”
Stiles shrugs again, “we all have our ways of…expressing affection.” He doesn’t look directly at Derek. When he does he finds Derek standing much closer.
He knows Derek is going to kiss him and he turns his head and Derek’s face sort of falls before Stiles takes a breath, “No, wait I panicked. Hold on,” and surges forward cupping Derek’s jaw and pressing their mouths together.
Doing the kissing thing.
Derek is smiling again when they pull away.
“Stop smiling,” Stiles huffs.
“Stop making me.”
“Never.”
Prompt from the lovely thepyschicclam!
I had waaay too much fun with this (
clearly) but I absolutely love the idea of family. So as soon as I saw this prompt I knew I wanted these two to do something goofy.I can just imagine Stiles telling Derek that his research was correct and his training totally worked. (and Derek just rolling his eyes with a big smile because his husband’s a
cutedork)
Just a Sterek drabble I wrote on this rainy Sunday afternoon because I started my day off watching an absolutely SOUL-CRUSHING ep of House, M.D. and needed a little something to cheer myself up afterwards.
In case it’s not your thing: this fic features Stiles/OMC, but not for long. 😉 Rated T, under 1k words
Sometimes Stiles’ new boyfriend can be fairly awesome, like when they stay up until three a.m. together playing video games and making out, or like that time… like… Well, pretty much all the examples Stiles can think of right now are sex things, but. But Jake’s a nice guy, kind of. He’s hot. He’s so hot Stiles still can’t believe he wants to date Stiles, and there are times when he can be a lot of fun.
Then there are the times (like today) that have Stiles questioning all his life choices, especially this one.
“Stiles, stop texting Lydia,” Jake says. No—practically whines. Seriously.
“Uh, no?” Stiles hits send, because Jake is not the boss of him. “We’re still on the ground. We don’t have to turn our phones off yet.”
And now Jake is pouting at him, like he’s six years old. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
Stiles can’t help but roll his eyes. “Stop trying to tell me who I can and cannot text. It’s creepy and controlling.”
Jake tries to put his hand over Stiles’, and it actually makes Stiles’ skin crawl a little bit. Stiles crosses his arms over his chest, hands safely tucked into his armpits. In retrospect, inviting Jake along on a trip to Hawaii was probably a bad idea when they’ve only been dating for three months.
Jake crosses his arms, too. “I’m your boyfriend. I’m not allowed to get a little possessive?”
“A little possessive? This is not ‘a little possessive.’ This is annoying and ridiculous and petty and invasive and… Look, yes, I’m bisexual, but Lydia and I are just friends. We’re always going to be friends, and I’m never cutting her out of my life for a boyfriend. The end. So you can stop being a jealous dick—”
“Or what?”
Stiles can’t believe they’re having this conversation right now. “Or maybe we shouldn’t be dating after all.”
Jake runs a hand through his sandy blond prince-charming hair and snorts. “Please, this relationship is over when I say it is. Or do you seriously think anyone else is lining up to date you?”
For a moment Stiles is actually speechless, because how has he spent the last three months thinking this guy was attractive? How did he overlook this level of douchebaggery? Some kind of witchcraft, probably.
That’s when the guy in the row ahead of them turns around in his seat, looks Stiles straight in the eye, and says without even one hint that he’s joking, “I would date you.”
Some Strings Attached
Ugh so there was a post going around that I’ve now long since misplaced but it was like “I just saw you go upstairs with someone else and I know we’re only fuck buddies but I’m gonna go punch them in the face” and I was HERE FOR IT. If somebody remembers the post, link me. In the meantime, have some Sterek getting together fluff.
“Just tell Derek you want to date him,” Scott says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.
Stiles bugs his eyes and flails his hands in wordless frustration, because the correct response to this patently ludicrous advice eludes him. He had come for sympathy, not pie-in-the-sky delusions. “Scott. Bro,” he finally gasps. “How could you even suggest that in good faith? No way! Bad plan!” He slashes his arms in a demonstrative X. “The only reason we’re even hooking up is that I made it super clear I was down to fuck, no strings attached! I’m not ruining a good thing by announcing to Derek Hale that I’m 85% in love with him.”
“Why?” Scott genuinely seems confused, the sweet summer child. After falling into a happy triad with Allison and Isaac after their first semester at UCLA, he doesn’t really understand the definition of “unrequited.”
Stiles turns his attention to a hanging thread on his t-shirt, sourly tugging it loose. “He’s out of my league. I mean, with the baseball, and the smarts, and the sarcasm, and those eyes…” he breaks off with a sigh. The last thing he needs to do is remind himself of how gone he is on Derek. “Just, he’s popular. Dictionary definition of too cool for school. And the three people he actually deigns to hang out with here are all just as cool and good looking as he is. Do I need to remind you I’m not? I’m a gawky, nerdy Sophomore. I’m lucky to even be his fuck-buddy.”
Scott makes a face, incredulous. “I dunno, he must like you well enough if he’s still sleeping with you after all this time. What’s it been, six months? And you guys hang out, too, you’re always telling me about how easy it is to chat with him after you bone. So it’s not just sex.”
Stiles grimaces. “Yeah, but it’s not…”
“… a real relationship,” Derek says into the phone, hearing full well the heavy dejection in his voice. So sue him; the admission is more than a little depressing. “He just wants to be fuck buddies.”
“How do you know?” Laura asks reasonably. “Maybe this Stiles person would be interested in dating you, too. No offence, but you’re not great at reading people. I mean, he’s interested in chilling with you even after you hook up, and clearly he enjoys the physical aspect. Did he actually ever say he wasn’t looking for more?”
Derek heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes even though she can’t see over the phone. “Yep. About two minutes after the first time we slept together he said, ‘no strings attached, obviously.’ So, you know, pretty safe bet that it’s no strings attached.”
“Oh,” Laura says. For once she doesn’t have a snappy comeback.
“Oh,” Derek agrees. Dejectedly.
She gives him a sympathetic little hum, and then asks, “and he’ll definitely be at the sorority barbecue?”
“Yeah.” Stiles and his broad shoulders and his long fingers are definitely going to be at the party.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go,” his sister says softly. “If you really like him, and he’s just looking to get laid…”
Derek groans. Not go, and give up a chance to hook up with Stiles? Smart, maybe, but not something he’s capable of doing.
The problem is, he’s liked Stiles forever. Or at least since he first saw him, laughing uproariously and running around with his friends with an actually broom between his legs, playing “Quidditch.” Derek would have been way too embarrassed to do something like that on the front lawn, but Stiles made it seem like the most effortlessly awesome thing a person could get up to.
No, compared to Stiles, Derek is practically a social recluse, an awkward jock with only about three people who he gets along with at all. Stiles definitely doesn’t want to get saddled with a boyfriend like him. He’s lucky they’re even hooking up after all this time.
“Derek, I mean it,” Laura says. “Look out for yourself for once.”
“I know, I know,” Derek grumbles. “But it’s not my fault he’s…”
Imagine Stiles having a bad day and he ends up crawling into bed and hiding in a cocoon of blankets. Derek tries to encourage him out but all he can get is Stiles occasionally peeking out from under the sheets. Eventually Derek gives up and just lies with him.
Bonus: they aren’t even together. Derek came by to ask Stiles about something (as he’s increasingly becoming more and more like an emissary to Derek) but when he climbs through Stiles’ window (more a habit than anything else now) he finds him in bed, scent all off.
Derek isn’t entirely sure what to do but he also knows when he’s struggling to cope with his memories, that’s when he misses Laura the most as she would always make a blanket fort and force him snuggle with her, especially after a particularly bad nightmare or when something reminded him of Kate and he spiralled.
With that in mind, Derek slides into Stiles’ bed without a word, both relieved and concerned when Stiles doesn’t say anything; just accepts the arms Derek puts around him and holds on tight.
After that, whenever Stiles is having a bad day he texts Derek something vague like ‘window is open, creeper’ or ‘you can use my laptop, I’m not using it today’ and it becomes a THING. This charade they both keep up, where Derek pretends to research something at Stiles’ before sliding on over to lie next to him, whispering mindless things because he knows Stiles is scared of silence, of his own thoughts.
Some days Stiles isn’t in bed (those days are his worst) but sits on the floor with a blanket wrapped around him, almost like a shock blanket; sometimes he wraps it around Derek too, often silently and other times saying something along the lines of “even werewolves must get cold”.
The rest of the time Derek just sits next to him, reading and listening to Stiles’ heartbeat slowly even out, wondering whether or not Stiles would pull away if he tried to hold his hand.
shealwaysreads 