Here’s some Autumn-y Stereky fluffy sweetness!! A million thank yous to @dizzy-redhead for the beta and @mad-madam-m for sending me the prompt: “i wanted to really embrace the fall spirit so i raked my leaves into a big pile and have been jumping around in it for ages and your moving truck just pulled up beside my house, so hi i’m your new not-weird neighbour.”
Really, it’s Princess Leia’s fault.
Stiles has been doing an admirable job of fighting the urge to dive headfirst into the massive pile of leaves that he’d laboriously been raking all afternoon. It’s a mighty urge, and he was battling it by reminding himself that he’s an adult dammit, and still kinda new to this neighborhood and he doesn’t need his neighbors knowing just how much of a weirdo he is really is, no matter how much of the Fall spirit he’s taken with.
He moved to Vermont just a few months ago for graduate school, and, having spent his entire life in southern California – the land of eternal summer – he finds himself utterly charmed and bewitched by Autumn. Sweater-hat-and-scarf weather, steaming mugs of spiced cider and mulled wine, flickering fires in the wood stove of his small house, the cool tendrils of his breath on the chilled air during his morning walks to campus: he takes it all in and relishes the beauty and coziness that transforms and enchants everything around him. And the leaves, of course. All the photographs and idyllic scenes from movies can’t compare with the reality of them, with the absolute riot of color that transformed the landscape from soil to sky just as September faded. It’s late October now, and each new Autumn day brings novel delights for Stiles to marvel.
Read on Ao3 | NR | 2,800 words
Tag: fluff
For @ariestaurus21, who’s been having a crap time at the hospital. Be well, hun!
~~~
“Uncle Steve!”
The voice is too loud, like everything
around him, but it barely cuts through the racket that is his asshole
roommate watching football. It’s like the man needs to feel like he’s
right inside the stadium. But the voice also isn’t supposed to be
here, so Steve opens his eyes.He regrets it almost immediately as
the light stabs into his eyes. It’s not any brighter than during all
his other hospital stays, he knows that, but today they feel like
floodlights. His brief glimpse of Grace’s worried face is surrounded
by a faint halo.He hates getting hit over the head.
“Doing… here…?” he rasps
as she sits down next to his bed. The words scrape up his throat like
sandpaper.He hates nearly getting choked to
death, too.
I’ve been watching Letters to Juliet and now I want nothing more than 16-year-old Grace, who stayed with her father after her parents’ divorce and her mom’s subsequent move to Hawai’i (Las Vegas, Chicago, Tucson, and lately San Francisco), helping her gandparents remodel their old house and finding the sweetest, saddest love letter hidden in her dad’s room.
Her dad, when she asks about it, sighs and grumbles about privacy and then tells her about Steve McGarrett, who was at his school for one single, glorious year when they were 16. They were so young and so, so in love, and they had all these mad dreams about becoming cops and fighting crime, just like the guys on tv. But then Steve’s dad showed up and moved them god knows where, and that’s the last Danny ever saw of him. All he has to remember Steve by is that letter, Steve’s goodbye to him.
Grace, who has a long summer coming up with nothing to do but listen to her mom tell her why San Francisco would be so much better for her than New Jersey, immediately decides to reunite Danno with his long-lost love.
The only problem? There are 124 Steve McGarretts in the US…
Give Me Something Good
Stiles bounced on his feet in excitement at the bottom of the stairs. “Are you ready?” He called up.
“Almosstt!!” A shrill voice yelled.
Stiles smiled, “hurry up you two, or all the candy will be gone!”
“Nooo!” His daughter cried. There was a loud bang, and then a little Chewbacca was running down the stairs towards him. “Daddy! I want candy!”
Stiles caught her as she jumped off the third to last step, swinging her around until she started to laugh. He set her down and winked, “you will get your candy, my dear, I was only joking. Now where’s your Papa?”
Lauren cocked her head, listening. “He’s coming!”
The perks of werewolf children.
“Alright, want to help me strap in little Claudy?” Stiles asked the four year old, picking the three month old out of her car seat and slipping her into the carrier Stiles already had strapped to his chest.
His little girl had yoda ears sticking out of her head, and Stiles himself had a brown robe on that made him look enough like Luke Skywalker for trick or treating. It matched Lauren’s Chewbacca perfectly.
Now all they needed was their Han Solo.
“Papa come oonnnn!” Lauren yelled up the stairs, right beside Stiles ear. Stiles winced, moving his head away and gently moving Lauren’s hands away from him.
“Thanks for helping with Claudy, babygirl, she’s all strapped in now. Why don’t you go grab your pumpkin, and we can head out as soon as Papa comes down?”
“Okay!” Lauren squealed, running to the kitchen to grab her bag.
Stiles shook his head fondly. That girl was as easily distracted as Stiles himself had been at that age.
“Claudy asleep?”
Stiles turned away from his daughter to see Derek walking down the stairs. Even after 8 years of marriage, the man took his breath away. From the smirk on Derek’s lips as he made his way to the bottom of the stairs, Derek knew that.
“Uh, yeah. She’ll probably wake up when we get outside.”
Derek nodded, bending forward to nuzzle against Stiles hair and gently grab onto one of Claudy’s dangling feet. The baby made a little gurgling noise in her sleep.
Lauren came bursting back into the hallway to disrupt the quiet moment.
“Let’s GOO!”
Derek and Stiles both laughed, “okay, okay, let’s get going!” Stiles clapped his hands together. “How many houses do you think you’ll hit this year?”
“200!”
“Woah, that’s ambitious. How about 20?”
“Is that close to 200?”
“Yeah, baby, it has a two in it, doesn’t it?”
Lauren thought about that for a moment, before she nodded solemnly. “Okay, 20.”
Derek snorted behind them as he locked up their front door.
Soon Stiles and Derek found themselves wandering down their street, Lauren running up and down walkways to get her candy. She was adorable as she was dedicated, no house was left un-knocked, not even the houses that didn’t have any lights on. Derek had to gently steer her away from those ones when it was clear no one would come to the door.
“But I can hear heartbeats inside.”
“Yeah, they’re, uh, sleeping.” Derek glanced around to make sure no one else had heard that, and Stiles covered his mouth to hide a laugh.
They ran into a few of other pack members who had kids out and about. Boyd and Erica with their ninja twins. Isaac, his wife Ellie, and their little unicorn who was the same age as Lauren. They stopped at a few houses together before Derek realized Lauren was trying to steal their candy, and they steered clear of that fight that was bound to happen.
Scott and Allison had all four of their herd out, each of them dressed in completely different costumes. Stiles really had no idea how they kept up with all of them, he was already worried with two.
Lauren managed to hit 27 houses before she started to crash. Derek carried her home after she dropped her bag of sweets twice. Lauren babbled into his shoulder until they made it home, and then she went upstairs to get ready for bed.
Stiles put Claudy down as Derek got Lauren ready for bed. The two of them kissed her to sleep together before lights out.
“Next year, we should all go as characters from Supergirl,” Lauren said through a yawn.
Stiles laughed, “that’s my girl.”
They left the door open a crack, and made their way downstairs for a few hours of adult time before they went to bed.
“How did I get so lucky?” Stiles groaned when Derek offered to massage his feet while they watched Netflix.
Derek pressed a kiss to his temple. “You didn’t, I’m the lucky one. Also, I dibs being Superman next year. You can be that computer geek, Winn or whatever.”
Stiles gasped in mock outrage before throwing his head back and laughing.
“Man, I can’t wait for next Halloween.”
On AO3
speaking of halloween, what’s your headcanon of what derek likes to do for halloween every year?
I can’t just have one headcanon so here’s a list:
– Derek’s the kind of person whose house every kid wants to go to because he buys king sized candy bars (it’s mostly just because he loves seeing their eyes widen and how wide they smile as they politely thank him)
– when he carves pumpkins he always does really intricate designs whereas Stiles goes with classic scary faces and attempts making a wolfed out Derek (he fails but Derek compliments him anyway and gets a kiss on the cheek for his efforts)
– at pack Halloween movie marathons he insists on watching the old, campy monster movies he and Laura used to make fun of when they were teenagers (and he holds Stiles’ hand through the scarier, more gory movies because Stiles always, always falls for the jump scares)
– he always puts up with Stiles wearing his red hoodie and calling him the Big Bad Wolf all day, mostly because Halloween sex is always amazing and kinky (Stiles still wears his red hoodie and just his red hoodie) (one year Derek spanked him until his ass was as red as the hoodie)
– Derek’s favorite part of Halloween is curling up on the couch with some apple cider or a cup of tea by the fire to read a book, Stiles curled up beside him with his head on his chest, sometimes reading aloud to Stiles (Stiles always falls asleep on him, snoring softly, and Derek smiles because this, this is home)
So this got kinda long and mushy. Oops.
Sterek. Cotton candy. Also I’m sorry you’re sad and frustrated 😔
Thanks. It’s okay. It happens.
Anyway, here’s cotton candy for Sterek! ~1300 words.
{{ on ao3: Not On The First Date }}
Stiles takes Derek to the amusement park because it’s just about the cheesiest date he can think of and if Derek isn’t serious, he’ll bail.
It may sound like a strange plan, but when Derek had agreed to go out with him, Stiles had been ninety percent sure he was joking and Stiles is not about to let other people make him look the fool. He does that well enough on his own, thanks.
But Derek had let Stiles come pick him up in the Jeep and had given him a Look when Stiles told him where they were going…but he had still gone. He hadn’t even complained. Which is maybe even more suspicious, but Stiles buys their tickets anyway.
They wander the park for about twenty minutes and Stiles rambles about how all the games are rigged because he doesn’t know what else to do, but then Derek takes his hand as they’re walking and he stops mid-sentence. Mid-step.
Derek raises a questioning eyebrow at him.
Oh. So that’s how they were playing it. Yeah. It’s fine. He’s got this.
Derek points to one of the old-fashioned games where you have to knock down the bottles. “That one.”
“What?” Stiles turns, his mind briefly setting off alarm bells when he feels the tug of Derek’s hand in his own.
“Let’s go do that one.”
“Were you not listening to a word I said?” Stiles whines, but then he’s met with an incredulous look.
“I’m a werewolf,” Derek deadpans and Stiles swallows.
It isn’t like Stiles had forgotten, but he hadn’t exactly put two and two together. He gestures Derek toward the rip-off with surprisingly high expectations, super strength in mind, and Derek pulls him along until Stiles syncs up their steps. It’s oddly gratifying.
When the kid working the booth tells them it’ll be five bucks, Derek looks to Stiles, who rolls his eyes.
“Aren’t you rich?” he mutters, but he shells out the cash anyway.
LOL YOU GUYS
::
“This is wonderful,” Derek says, dreamily. He drops his taco for a second, putting his chin in his hands so he can devote all his attention to his new friends. “Wow. You guys. My beard is just… really soft, did you know that?”
“Oh my god,” says the pale one with the cute nose. His eyes have been all shocked and wide and Bambi-like for almost half an hour, now; Derek hopes it doesn’t hurt. “Scott, what even.”
“Try to eat, Derek,” says the one with the crooked jaw and the warm voice. “You’re clearly a little… confused, right now, but maybe some food will help. You were really insistent about the food, before, don’t you remember?”
“I love tacos so much,” Derek confides, still absently petting his own beard because it’s weirdly hard to stop. “Who are you guys, anyway?”
“Scott,” says the Bambi one, obviously distressed. Derek stops petting the beard and reaches out to pat the guy’s cheek, instead, hoping it will calm him. Instead, Bambi squawks in surprise and jumps in his chair.
“You’re gonna be fine, Derek,” the other guy—Scott?—assures him, after glaring at Bambi in reproach. “Trust me.”
“I do trust you!” Derek says, certain of this. “Except, who are you, though?”
“We’re friends. You know us, but right now you’re a little bit…”
“You’re super, super high,” Bambi says, and Scott throws up his hands and groans. “What? He is.”
“He’s been drugged, Stiles, we don’t know how dangerous this is! We should keep him calm.”
“I am calm,” Derek says, happily contemplating his taco before shoving two-thirds of it into his mouth.
“This is both adorable and scary,” laments Bambi / Stiles. “Which, admittedly, is Life with Derek 99 percent of the time, but still.”
“I’m not drugged, you guys,” Derek says, mouth full, because his friends look really tense. “I’m fine! I’m just drunk, I think.”
“You can’t even get drunk,” Scott points out.
“Can’t I?” Derek scrunches up his eyebrows. “Well, maybe I’m just excited, ‘cause a hot stranger bought me tacos.”
“I bought you tacos!,” Stiles yells, flushing.
“Yeah,” agrees Derek. He makes sure to dab all the sour cream off his face before he leans invitingly across the table, smiling big and bright. “So, you come here often?”
Stiles as a professional cuddler, where he offers a range of services, from spooning to hand holding to quiet murmuring. Also, there are a lot of health benefits from being cuddled regularly and Derek happens to be in need of said benefits ;__;
counting sheep don’t help me sleep
(a little fic i wrote for my friends around the holidays)
Kira is probably the closest thing to a friend Derek has at work, a relationship that has its positives and negatives. Derek doesn’t really go out of his way to make friends with his coworkers, preferring to keep his head down and get his work done, but it’s nice to eat lunch with someone, to have someone say “Have a good weekend!” even if all Derek’s doing that weekend is what he does every weekend: workout, go to the library, watch a new foreign film (last weekend’s was De grønne slagtere, and he hasn’t been able bring himself to eat meat since).
The bad thing about being friends with Kira is that the longer they know each other, the more comfortable they are in each other’s presence, the more Kira seems to feel like she’s got to look after Derek for some reason. Kira’s a pretty empathetic person anyway; all the ladies in the office like telling her their horror stories about dating because Kira makes the best horrified faces in reaction to their sordid tales, but she takes it a step further with Derek. And, to a certain extent, Derek doesn’t mind that much; Kira reminds him of Laura in some ways, the way she gently teases him about his diet, and leaves little notes on his desk about inconsequential things – but then she takes an interest in his well being: his mental wellbeing.
for the prompt request: Sterek plz, with any of these. I couldn’t choose because I’m terrible! “This has been a very bad week and you just grabbed the last box of my favorite comfort food at the supermarket” AU or “We’re enemies for funding in the department” or “Here take my sweater.” THANK U IN ADVANCE!
I was struck by inspiration for this one on my drive back from the beach today. I went with “Here, take my sweater.”
Derek fished two
bottles of water out of the cooler he’d thrown in the back of the Cruiser
before he’d picked Stiles up that morning (“kidnapped, Derek, kidnapped me from
my own home, nay, my very bed!”) and settled on the bumper as he waited for
Stiles to follow him up from the beach, where he’d lagged behind Derek due to
his inevitable distraction by a rock or a shell or thinking he saw a kelpie in
the waves or who knew what this time. He cracked the top on one bottle of water
and tossed the other at Stiles as soon as he got within range.Stiles caught it
smoothly, which meant he was only paying a fraction of his attention to his surroundings,
and Derek bit back a smile. “Thanks, man,” Stiles said, tossing his sweatshirt
into the back of the SUV in a shower of sand. “Shit, sorry.”Derek shrugged,
letting himself lean against the edge of the open rear door and pulling one
foot up onto the bumper with him. “Don’t worry about it.”Stiles twisted the
top off his water and tilted his head back as he drank. Derek looked away,
studying the grains of sand and shell now scattered across the floor. It was
probably the most innocuous material to have ever made a mess on the rubberized
surface, and Derek found himself wishing, suddenly, fiercely, that he had
actually bought the car for its intended use, that he really was the kind of
guy who needed an off-roading vehicle to strap his surfboards to and still have
room for all his camping equipment. That he needed to be able to easily hose
down the interior because he regularly came home with too much sand covering everything after a weekend adventure to deal
with any other way, instead of the mud, blood, and
mystery fluids that his car ended up covered in entirely too regularly.Stiles hoisted
himself up to sit fully in the rear storage area, legs still dangling over the
bumper as he looked back over the beach to where the waves crashed on the
shore. The sun was just starting to set, tingeing the undersides of the clouds
peach and gold and pink.“Thanks for today,”
Stiles said, eyes still glued to the ocean. His cheeks looked a little red as he said it, but that could just as easily have been the sunburn.Derek nodded, just a
short gesture of his chin, and took another drink of his water before he
ventured, “Thanks for coming.”There was a lot they
both weren’t saying, and they both knew it.Stiles snorted. “Like
you gave me a choice.” He picked up his hoodie and shook it vigorously over the
parking lot, making a face as seemingly endless sand showered out of it. He’d
taken it off earlier in the afternoon, when the sun was high and he’d gotten
too hot, and then hadn’t noticed until too late that the tide had come in and a
wave had already soaked half of it where he’d tossed it onto the sand next to
his shoes. “Still wet, ugh.”Derek took it from
him and draped it over the back of the seats so it’d dry faster, and Stiles
slanted him a crooked half-smile before he turned his attention back to the
sunset. Unable to help himself, Derek glanced down at where Stiles’ hands
gripped the edge of rear compartment, showing off the always surprising cording
of his forearms, so rarely seen out from under all his misleadingly oversized
layers. Goosebumps rose along Stiles’ skin as Derek watched, and he realized
Stiles must have been hoping he could put the sweatshirt back on now that the
temperature was dropping again.Derek fished under
the seats behind the cooler for a second, then bumped his arm against Stiles’
as he directed his own attention toward the horizon. “Here, take my sweater.”
Casual. It didn’t have to mean anything. Stiles was cold, that was all.Stiles glanced over
at him in surprise as his hand closed on the sweater, and then he smiled and
grabbed it eagerly, rubbing it against his face. “This one! I’ve always wanted
to know if it was as soft as it looked!”Now it was Derek’s
turn to blink in surprise, and Stiles’ face definitely turned a red that had
nothing to do with how much sun he’d gotten.“Um, let’s just
forget I said that,” he mumbled as he tugged the maroon sweater quickly over
his head, hiding his embarrassment as fast as he could. His hair, ridiculously windblown
before, was half-flattened, half-mussed by the time he tugged the sweater down,
and Derek reached over the brush it off his forehead before he even thought.Stiles’ eyes were
very wide when he finished, and Derek swallowed, wishing he hadn’t done it, but
also not finding it in himself to regret it now that it was done. Finally. He’d
known the unspoken thing growing between them for years was bound to break one
way or another at some point. Brushing Stiles’ hair off his face while watching
sunset over the ocean was certainly nicer than anything he’d let himself
imagine.“Hey, Derek?” Stiles
said, and it was low. Steady. A little nervous, but also a little… playful? Not
scared, definitely, and Derek was grateful, because hearing Stiles say his name
in fear at this moment might have broken him.“Yeah?”
“I think I’m still
kinda cold.”Derek knew a cue when
he heard one. He lifted his arm and Stiles slid over to fit himself against
Derek’s side, burrowing into his offered warmth with a murmured, “Mmmmm,
werewolfy space heater,” as Derek settled his arm around him and held on,
smiling into Stiles’ hair. He never wanted to let go.They stayed there
until the sun had long disappeared over the horizon and the stars appeared to
dance over the water instead.
Can I throw a mildly angsty Sterek prompt your way? Derek suspects that Stiles is only with him for his body and/or for his dick – obviously this is not going to be the case, BUT CUE ANGST AND INSECURITY.
I really loved this prompt, I hope you enjoy this little fic! (On AO3)
Derek hadn’t minded it, not at first.
Not when everything was new and casual. And he’d certainly
done his own share of body appreciation in the beginning, spending long moments
appreciating the curve of Stiles’ neck, or the flat of his belly, or the lithe
muscling of his thighs. He hadn’t been afraid, either, to tell Stiles how much
he liked his long, slender fingers or his soft, pink lips.So, when Stiles had rambled on about the beauty of his ass,
or the perfection of his biceps, or the cut of his abs, he hadn’t minded. It
had even been a bit of an ego boost, the way Stiles would lose his train of
thought when Derek took off his shirt, or walked into the kitchen in only a
towel, or anything like that.It had been fine.
shealwaysreads 