This is one of my favorite tropes! So glad I got to write it! Also on ao3!
Stiles wished he could say it was the first time he had found a dead animal on his doorstep. He really did. But it wasn’t.
For the past few days, five in a row to be exact, he had found all sorts of small, fluffy little woodland animals lying dead and bloody on his front porch. They ranged from squirrels, their furry tails soaked in blood, to birds, their feathers strewn around the doormat, to rabbits, who apparently were not fast enough to outrun whoever or whatever was leaving them on the front stoop.
Initially, he had thought it was one of their neighbor’s cats, the old woman a few houses down who owned a veritable army of feline companions having recently procured two more cat cadets. But on the fourth day, he had walked out of the house to check if they had gotten any mail only to find a large raccoon with its throat slashed open, blood seeping out onto the doormat that they had just replaced.
No matter how fierce those cats were, he doubted they could do such gruesome damage. And so, he had begun considering other culprits who may have been leaving the dead animals.
It had started with a dead bird, a blue jay lying on the top step of their front porch. Stiles had found it while leaving for school in the morning, taking a few minutes out of his morning rush to bury the poor thing in the front yard before heading off to school. He figured it had simply keeled over in exhaustion, no obvious injuries save for a few molted feathers, and moved on.
The next day he had found two dead squirrels, deep claw marks raked down their sides, on the front porch. He had wrinkled his nose at the grisly sight, running back inside to grab a plastic bag to shove them in before tossing them into another shallow grave by the blue jay. That was when he began having the sneaking suspicion that a cat was responsible for the morbid little deliveries.
The day after the squirrels, he found the rabbit. Its throat was open, a hole about the size of a cat’s mouth oozing bright scarlet blood onto the doormat, absolutely ruining it. Groaning, and internally cursing crazy cat people, Stiles held his nose and cleaned up the scene, again burying the poor victim and dumping the doormat into their trash can.
The raccoon was next, sullying the new welcome mat that Stiles had picked up after his last class the day before. Curiously inspecting the raccoon, finding wounds too large to have been inflicted by a cat, Stiles had reached another, new conclusion ― there was some new supernatural threat in Beacon Hills and it was killing poor, defenseless animals and dumping them on Stiles’ porch.
Why he didn’t know, but it was the only feasible thing he could think of. He had taken his theory to others, asking around to see if anyone else had noticed anything strange lately. No one else had.
He had gone to Deaton at the vet clinic to ask if he had any information about anything weird going on with any of the local animals. Deaton had denied that anything unusual was going on with any animals, neither domestic or otherwise, for once actually foregoing any cryptic responses. Though, he did mention that parvo was more common than usual that year.
After talking to Deaton, he went to Chris Argent, figuring the ex-hunter would have information on any supernatural goings-on that Deaton did not know about. Argent didn’t know anything either, indulging Stiles’ curious nature and patiently answering his strange inquisitions with as much patience as someone who had been woken up at four thirty a.m. could muster.
Afterward, he had dropped in to visit his dad at the station, hoping that it wasn’t just happening to them, even though it would be just his luck. The Sheriff let him rifle through recent reports of strange, out of the ordinary activities but all he found were reports filed about suspicious looking teenagers hanging around outside of local convenience stores. There had been no reports of rabies, either, dashing another one of Stiles’ theories.
And, of course, he had gone to the pack as soon as he began to suspect that the dead animals may have a more sinister origin than simply falling prey to some pet cat roaming the neighbor. No one in the pack had noticed anything amiss, no supernatural threats or random dead animals on any doorsteps.
Peter had made some snide little comment about Valentine’s Day coming up soon, pointing out that Stiles probably had a psychopathic secret admirer who thought that leaving dead animals on his porch was the epitome of romance. With Stiles’ luck, it was a disturbingly real possibility, one he wouldn’t discount.
The other betas had dissolved into a bout of raucous laughter, even Boyd chuckling under his breath at the comment, but Stiles hadn’t been very amused. Rolling his eyes at the remark, Stiles had noticed that the tips of Derek’s ears had been burning bright red, a sure sign that the alpha was blushing at something. Probably due to secondhand embarrassment, Stiles figured.
Now, there he was, standing on his front porch in his Spiderman pajamas, looking down at that day’s little ‘gift’ ― a twelve point buck, lying dead on the walkway in front of the porch, a large hole in its chest. Ripped out of the buck’s ripped, its bloody heart lay on the front porch just inches from his bare foot, a single red rose laid beside it.
Stiles sees it when he’s grocery shopping, the display hardly touched, people opting for the cheaper, non-heart shaped packages of steak. He gets it, he really does, after all, what’s the point of buying specially packaged meats for your significant other if you’re just gonna take the thing out of the box and cook it, anyways?
But if you had a werewolf sweetheart, this would be awesome, right?
Stiles snaps a photo and sends it to Kira, asking if she’s got a present for Scott yet. She texts him back a second later with, aw thanks i already got him a present when i went xmas shopping tho
And then: u should give it to ur werewolf 😉
Stiles stares at his phone, because he doesn’t have a werewolf. Well, technically he has a crush on a werewolf, but that doesn’t really count.
Initially, he doesn’t even touch Stiles, fingers hovering nervously above his skin as he connects all the marks on Stiles’ body like a treasure map, mind going blank as he does.
Eventually, when Stiles learns this calms Derek down -maybe when he knows Derek has had a particularly stressful day – he cranks up the heater, crawls on top of their bed naked and leaves a little note beside him saying ‘knock yourself out, big guy’ with eye liner or a non permanent maker attached to it.
After a while, Stiles gets used to waking up, finding his entire body covered in lines and shapes, like a dot to dot puzzle, and every time he smiles, gets this warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest knowing he’s helped Derek somehow.
Derek isn’t good at talking, doesn’t always manage to say what’s bothering him at the time it’s bothering him, and the fact Stiles can help him – even unconscious and snoring – is a big deal to him. Seeing Derek asleep and smiling, rested, when he wakes up (and all because of little things on his body he’s always hated) makes him happier than he ever thought possible. And hey, maybe that’s selfish, but he doesn’t care; not when Derek kisses him the next morning, whispering ‘thank you’ before turning over and falling back to sleep like he isn’t afraid of the bad dreams that might come, not when Stiles is there.
Emma I don’t mean to hijack your post but I can’t stop thinking about Derek waking up in the morning and smiling softly because the ink warmed up with body heat and transferred during the night, and now he has an exact map of the moles on Stiles’ back laid out on his chest and stomach and he always spends the first minutes of his best days tracing Stiles’ patterns on his own skin.
Anyone else casually think about Derek being the first person to fuck Stiles? And like Derek doesn’t know at first because Stiles doesn’t offer up the info and Derek doesn’t ask.
He asks everything else, even though it definitely happens pretty quickly. Not the kind of quickly where everything happens because Death is either imminent or just narrowly avoided. More the quickly like Stiles helps Derek move into his new apartment and everyone is gone and then suddenly they’re in the bed Stiles helped Derek make an hour ago while Scott put together Derek’s new t.v stand in the living room.
And now they’re, like, hardcore boning in it.
Things move sort of quick, but it feels like their foreplay was about three years long so it evens out in the end, probably. Stiles has never been with another guy, and he and Malia never really went down that particular road and Stiles has had toys in ass before but
Derek’s dick is a life changer. Derek’s dick is so good Stiles has flashbacks to when he first discovered how to jerk off. Stiles becoming a little (lot) obsessed with Derek’s dick. More specifically Derek’s dick in his ass. Like, when Derek’s dick is not in his ass Stiles is thinking about the last time it was or when it might be next and the logistics of skipping his last class of the day to go find Derek.
Sometimes Derek snarks about Stiles never being satisfied but Stiles knows the look Derek gets when he’s hell bent on conquering a challenge. Once Derek made him come twice untouched and then Stiles slept for sixteen hours. Derek never says anything but he looked smug about it.
Stiles making an offhand comment like ‘not that I have anything to compare it to’ about Derek who realizes oh. Derek gets weird about it for the rest of the evening and Stiles starts to wonder if he should start getting annoyed.
But then later, in bed, Derek is intense in a way he wasn’t even that first time. And after Stiles comes practically shaking apart he says all breathless, “dude, are you trying to ruin everyone else for me?”
Derek just grins down at him before kissing him, hard.
because we all need some that make us warm and fuzzy inside sometimes 🙂
“I’m looking for my favourite kind of tea/hot chocolate/keurig coffee cup things and I spot two boxes on the shelf and I take one and oh hi, you like it too?”
Alternatively: There’s only 1 box
also imagine: Them enjoying the tea together
i’m taking pictures of the sunset here because it’s really pretty and I see you drawing the sunset and it’s such a great photo opportunity let me just- oh shit the flash was on um, hi?
alternatively: I come to this spot to draw the sunset all the time and I just saw a flash out of the corner of my eye. I look and someone’s pointing a camera at me. what the hell?
I decide to go swimming at night because there’s less people but there’s a group of people having a bonfire at my normal spot what now (OT+ friendly!)
I’m asking if the library has a book that I’ve been waiting for and you happen to return it just then
I’m low on cash by a few cents/forgot my wallet/card and you pay for my drink order at this coffee place hey thank you so much
I always come to this coffee shop to draw bc I love the atmosphere and someone asks to sit here sure I guess??
Alternatively: Everytime I come in here you’re drawing and they always look so pretty so I muster up the courage to ask to sit with you and you said yes shit now what
*insert obligatory one is sick here* but then person A taking care of person B gets sick and person B just laughs and said I warned you
imagine sleepy cuddles early in the morning or late at night or the middle of a sleepy afternoon please
teasing one when they can’t reach something on a high shelf so they climb the counter out of spite and then sit on the counter
friendly teasing in general especially if it leads to kissing i mean what
annnnnnd I’m gonna stop here because I just realized how long this was Have fun with these and have a wonderful day!! ~Mod Karissa
He has this in the bag, man. In the bag, zipped up, squared away, a hole in one, sealed and, laminated and—it was a lie, all of it.
Because the chocolates Stiles made two days ago? Yeah, those were eaten. By his dad. And the first heart-shaped card he bought? He gave to the nice old lady who just lost her cat of 20 years, because that’s true love, and anyone who says differently is a monster.
The second card got thrown away, because of reasons. The third card was a ‘hand-made’ card, with lots of cut paper and glitter and it ended up stuck to his ceiling. Along with a few other glue-infused things. They’re still up there now, while Stiles pulls his most recent failure out of the oven.
“Nice, perfect. I’m sure Derek’s favorite flavor is Chocolate-Triggering-Charcoal-Cookies. Tastes that remind you of family.”
It’s been about a week of driving on the road, and Stiles gets to his place and drops his things off. The rest of his stuff will be delivered in about another week.
Stiles stands in the stillness of his tiny apartment and closes his eyes, takes in the quiet, a quiet he hasn’t heard and felt in a long time, when his phone dings.
Stiles opens his eyes, sees it’s text from Scott asking if he made it by the time he said he would. Stiles answered he made it, and then shuts his phone down, and proceeds to lay down on all the blankets he brought with him – his bed won’t be there for a few more days, at least – and sleep.
It’s night when he wakes up, and the street lights are shining into his apartment where he lay in the almost bare living room. Stiles turns on his phone, and this time his heart skips a beat – and Stiles doesn’t quite know why – when he sees the text he’d been expecting from Derek:
Have you made it? Do you want to meet up?
It was sent an hour ago. Stiles replies back, saying he did and he would, but since it’s night time, they could meet tomorrow?
But Derek replies back a few minutes later that he wouldn’t might meeting up that night. It’s only 7PM, and so Stiles agrees and they agree to meet at a coffee shop a few blocks from where Stiles lives – Derek has been living in D.C. for a few months now, and ever since Stiles told Derek where he would be living, Derek made a point to get to know the area around it. Stiles found that oddly sweet, but he would never tell Derek that.
Stiles’ heart is beating wildly as he leaves, locking his door behind him. He hasn’t seen Derek in over a year now. They’ve talked over the year, actually they’d talked quite a lot in the past few months, especially, but Stiles hadn’t been face to face with Derek in well over a year.
Stiles feels and equal measure of excitement and nerves. He feels almost jumpy as he heads down the stairs in his apartment building, and then out into the warm summer night D.C. air.
He texts Derek that he’s on his way, and Derek texts back that he’s already there, waiting outside.
Stiles gulps and licks his lips, and walks faster, pocketing his phone.
Stiles is away from the only home he’s known for 18 years. But he feels oddly free. He misses Scott, his dad, everyone like crazy, but he also feels less…heavy. Less like he was drowning. Stiles still looked around him surreptitiously, not able to shake off the habit from almost two and a half years of danger and destruction happening to and around him, but the air is quiet, people barely spare him a glance.
It feels wonderful.
Stiles is able to breathe.
He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed.
When he rounds the corner to the coffee shop, he freezes, his inhale sharp when he sees Derek standing outside, and then it feels like his heart trips over itself when Derek hears him and turns towards him, and they lock eyes.
Derek looks good. He looks as relaxed as Stiles felt. Derek was still in the tight jeans that Stiles remembered him wearing all the time (and damn, they always made Stiles stare a little longer than he should have) but his shirt looked soft and comfortable, and it was a light purple color that made Derek look absolutely…amazing.
And he wasn’t wearing his signature leather jacket. He wasn’t standing with his arms over his chest. They were at his sides, just hanging, relaxed. He also wasn’t scowling. He was grinning. At Stiles.
And Stiles found himself grinning back. He let out a shocked laugh, and then he was walking fast toward Derek, who started walking toward him too.
Stiles sped up the last ten or so feet, and then Stiles was practically jumping into Derek’s awaiting arms, and Derek gave a small “oof” as if Stiles, fragile human that he was, was able to knock the breath out of Derek.
“Sorry,” Stiles murmured.
But he felt Derek shake his head and wrap Stiles up firmly in his arms, and Stiles breathed out softly, tightening his arms around Derek’s shoulders and resting his cheek against Derek’s.
“I missed you,” Stiles whispered, surprised he let that slip out. But he did nothing to take the words back.
“I missed you, too,” Derek said, and Stiles shivered. He and Derek had mostly texted over the past year, and the last time they had talked on the phone had been months ago. Stiles had missed his soft, beautiful voice. It was like honey to Stiles’ ears.
Two and a half years. That’s how long Stiles had basically lived in hell.
But now….now, Stiles was getting out of it. With Derek, who actually picked Stiles up enough that Stiles was then on his tippy toes, somehow bringing Stiles closer in his arms, and Stiles huffed out a laugh.
“Derek-”
“Shh, just enjoy it,” Derek murmured.
“Can’t imagine the Derek I knew saying that,” Stiles whispered. Even at the end, before Derek left, when he was in such a good place, he hadn’t quite been like this. So happy. So relaxed. So ready to hug someone. And hug them closely, for that matter.
“Yeah, well…some time away helps,” Derek murmured, and Stiles felt his heart beating faster when he felt Derek brush his lips lightly against Stiles’ neck.
“Good thing I’m getting some time away, then,” Stiles murmured. And then after a long moment, “with you,” Stiles said.
He felt Derek inhale sharply, and then the arms around him tighten. But it didn’t feel restrictive. It felt amazingly comforting. Stiles felt warm, safe. Relaxed. And maybe even a little bit happy.
“I’m glad you’re getting time away, too. With me.”
Stiles smiled, buried his smile against Derek’s shoulder, and then decided to hold on to Derek just a little longer.
I just got my hair cut and I’m feeling overly emotional, and
I don’t know how these two things relate, but here have some sterek.
They have been together for a while now. They just got their
first apartment together, and saying that both of them were high on love (for
each other) and hope (for a new happy life) would be quite the understatement.
There had been a time when either of them had thought that
they could never have the other, that after Derek left they would never find
each other again, and they had never even thought possible that one day they
could have a place, a home together.
And yet, here they were.
They just finished mounting their new bed, and Stiles falls
on the bare mattress with a satisfied “oof” Derek following shortly after him.
And it’s then that somehow it hits Stiles. It hits him so
hard and so suddenly that he’s so overwhelmed with it that his eyes burn and he
wants to yell it at the top of his lungs, but at the same time the emotion is
so strong that clogs up his throat, and he can barely manage to speak.
So, he just makes a small noise (all he can muster right
now) and rolls over to Derek’s side, throwing one arm over Derek’s body and
burying his face into Derek’s neck.
Derek huffs out a surprised laugh, but promptly starts rubbing
his back soothingly.
“Derek,” Stiles mumbles, when he finds his voice again.
Derek hums questioningly and Stiles hugs him close, a little
bit tighter, before he gets out of his hiding spot and looks up at his
boyfriend.
“You’re my best friend.” He says, all intense, earnest and
sincere eyes.
Because it’s true. Yes, Scott is the friend he knew longer,
they had their high and lows and highs again, and he’s like a brother, but
that’s just it, Scott is his brother.
Derek is his best friend.
Derek is the person that he thinks about first when he’s
thought of a stupid joke and wants to share it with someone. Derek is the one he
looks for when he wants to tell someone about what his favourite character is
going through, even if it’s a show or a book that Derek hasn’t watched yet. Derek
is the name on his lips when he wants to tell or show someone how he managed to
do something, even if it’s just as ordinary and banal as Stiles managing to
doodle a real-looking wolf shadow, he knows that even if his first reaction
would be to roll his eyes, he’d do so smiling in that warm way that always tell
Stiles so many things. Like how loved he is, and how Derek is proud of him, even
for the little things. And Derek is the one that he glances up to look at before
he even knows why.
And that’s why he hates fighting with him so much, because
he’s fighting with his boyfriend and
best friend. And really, there’s no one in his life that can match with everything
that Derek means to him. Derek is his special person, everyone has their
special person, don’t they?
And Derek is Stiles’ person.
And yes, Derek is
his boyfriend, and they had already said their ‘I love you’s to each other a
long time ago, but Derek is also, and maybe most importantly, Stiles’ best
friend too, and Stiles really needs him to know that.
“You’re my best friend,” he repeats, because he needs him to
understand.
And of course, because Derek is his everything plus his best
friend, smiles small and understanding, before he leans down to kiss him on the
corner of his mouth, feather-light and all softness, and whispers “you’re my
best friend, too.”
And Stiles knows that Derek understands, because he can see
in his eyes that Stiles is his person too.
Have fun with these and have a wonderful day!!
shealwaysreads 