So this is a light little Sterek drabble I’d ALMOST finished ages ago and then forgotten about until tonight, in which Derek and Stiles are neighbors.
Word count: a little under 2k
Laura tells him it’s cowardly and unromantic to confess feelings over text, but too bad. Derek can’t think of anything more terrifying than showing up on Stiles’ doorstep (conveniently, the apartment right below Derek’s) to tell him to his face. And Derek wants to know, okay? Has to know. He needs closure. He can’t keep second-guessing every microsecond of every interaction with Stiles, trying to guess how he’s feeling, and he can’t keep hoping like this. He’ll go insane. Stiles has been his neighbor/friend/hopeless crush for almost six months already, and Derek definitely can’t take another six.
Tag: fluff
-“Are you enjoying yourself?“
-“Very!”Bubbles!!
This is beyond cute!!
What the Hell is a Stiles?
Sterek, T, 2K, Blind Date AU
Saw the prompt from this post that someone reblogged. (Take a look at the list, there are so many good ideas!)
Our mutual friend set us up on a blind date and I thought I’d hate it but you’re actually… kind of funny? But because I expected to hate it in no way am I going to let you change my mind just because you’re gorgeous and funny and intelligent oh no my friend is not winning this
“No,” Derek says easily, without even looking up from his book. Erica groans and flops into the chair opposite him, nearly upsetting his mug of hot chocolate.
“Seriously?” she says, bracing both elbows on the table and leaning toward him. “At least hear me out.”
“Nope.”
“He’s cute, Der! I think you’d really like him.”
“Absolutely not. You have a terrible track record with set-ups.”
Erica has the decency to wince, at least, and drop her gaze from Derek’s. “But you’re a catch, Der, and you deserve someone who can make you happy. And since you don’t want to date me—”
“You don’t want to date me, either,” he reminds her, but she just rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, whatever. But seriously. You’re great.”
“I thought I was grumpy and terrible with people?” he asks, parroting her words from after the last failed date, and she huffs.
“Please?” she wheedles, poking her lower lips out a bit. “For me. If it goes badly, I’ll never try to set you up again.”
Derek sighs. Fuck.
His facial expressions must be more transparent than he thinks because Erica’s eyes light up. “Oh my god, you’re gonna say yes.”
Derek scowls at her. “Just coffee,” he says firmly. At least that way, he can get it in a to-go cup and make a neat escape after five minutes if he needs to. “No dinner, no movie, no activities.”
“Fine,” she says quickly, digging in her jeans pocket for her phone. “You got it.”
“This is not gonna end well,” he warns her, but she just waves her hand without looking up from her phone.
“Have some faith, Der,” she says, patting him on the hand absently while she pushes her chair back and stands up. “I can’t wait to tell Stiles.”
Derek blinks, watching Erica walk away.
“Wait, what the hell is a Stiles?” he calls after her.
Sterek derek or stiles proposing marriage
“Fuck, marry me,” Stiles groans, breathless and coiled so tight he’s sure he’d snap in half if it wasn’t for the heat and friction of Derek underneath him keeping him in one piece.
And normally Stiles would think that it’d be the other way around – that it would be the weight of Derek on top of him grounding him to earth, to their bed – the one they’d picked out together at Ikea after Derek had ruined the headboard for their first one.
But instead it’s Stiles pressing Derek down, and it’s Derek who pulls his head away from where he’d pressed it against his arm, biting the skin there to keep from moaning openly, to stare at Stiles with wide, surprised eyes.
“What?” He asks, breathless just like Stiles feels. And Stiles comes to a stop, lifting himself up to look down at Derek.
“Huh?” He says, mind still lost somewhere back between getting Derek’s clothes off and tangling their hands together against the mattress as he pushed inside.
“You said -” Derek swallows, wide-eyed, and in a rush it comes back to Stiles, how he hadn’t been bothered to bite down on his tongue as he blurted the first thing that came to mind in the moment.
“Right,” Stiles says, and swallows himself. “Yeah,” but he doesn’t regret saying it. In fact, it feels almost like relief to have it out there in the open after all this time. After getting used to waking up pressed against Derek on rainy Sundays where they don’t have to get up all day. After finding it to be second nature to joke and laugh and press up against Derek’s back as he cooks one of his families old recipes.
“Yeah,” Stiles repeats, and tries to put as much purchase and sincerity behind the one word.
“Are you serious?” Derek asks, now getting up to lean on his elbows.
It’s ridiculous, because Stiles never feels vulnerable with Derek in bed – not since the first time Derek pressed him down onto the comforter in his old room – but here they are, putting on serious business faces and discussing something monumental while Stiles is still inside Derek.
He’d probably laugh if he wasn’t worried he’d cry instead, because he wants this. He wants lazy morning blow jobs and sloppy kisses as they exchange hand jobs after a long day. He wants stupid fights over leaving laundry hanging over the door and Derek barking at Stiles to put the cap back on the toothpaste, dammit.
He wants morning coffee and toast with avocado because Derek is a weirdo and combines food Stiles would never have thought of but ends up loving.
He loves avocado on toast and he loves Derek.
“As serious as I can be while mid-fuck,” Stiles manages, and they both glance down at where they’re connected.
Derek hums at the sight, then looks back up at Stiles, “We’ve never… talked about this.”
“We don’t have to,” Stiles is quick to say, “Not right now, at least.”
Derek nods solemnly, “Yeah,” he agrees. But suddenly all Stiles wants to do is talk about this, make plans for their future together, if Derek wants one with him, that is.
“Yes,” Derek says after a beat of silence, voice filled with more finality than it had before.
Stiles’ gaze snaps up to Derek’s, and he feels just as exhilarated and scared as Derek looks.
“Yeah?” Stiles asks, smile spreading his lips wide. “You mean it?”
Derek rolls his eyes, cheeks flushed red, and nods.
Stiles laughs and presses Derek back down into the mattress, “You can’t change your mind,” Stiles says against Derek’s lips, “No take backsies, you know the rules.”
And Derek snorts, brushing his thumb over the apple of Stiles’ cheek, “You’re ridiculous.”
“Hey,” Stiles says, smiling purely for the fact that he doesn’t feel like he could stop even if he tried, “You’re the one who just agreed to marry me.”
“Yeah,” Derek says, thumbing Stiles’ bottom lip, “I did.“
Stiles is still smiling when he presses his lips against Derek’s mouth.
My Boo (Laura & Stiles)
unelore said: If you feel like it: “You’re so clingy, I love it” Stiles
and Laura friendship. Thanks and I hope you are having a good start of 2017.I’m having a great start to the year. I hope you are, too! Thank you for this lovely prompt. I enjoyed having the opportunity to write Laura & Stiles friendship,and also explore Laura a bit more. I hope you like it! Fic #6 in my 2017 Prompt Challenge.
My Boo. Laura & Stiles Friendship. Teen. Also on AO3.
Stiles accepts a job with the NYPD and ends up meeting his platonic soulmate when he rents Laura Hale’s spare room
Manhattan is an intimidating city. There are so many people,
traffic everywhere, huge buildings towering overhead, and the streets still don’t
seem that familiar even after a month. Of course, compared to Beacon Hills,
Stiles isn’t surprised that he’s experiencing culture shock since moving to the
city. Fortunately, he works a lot, being the rookie on the force means pulling
a lot of shitty shifts that other officers can get out of because of their
tenure, and he’s doing patrol, so he’s learning that area relatively well.
“You need some help there?” Stiles/Danny
Helping Hand
Read on ao3Stiles knows how to restring his lacrosse stick, he really does. He’s done it at least once a month for almost 4 years, but how is he suppose to focus on the strings when Danny just walked into the locker room and strips his shirt off right in his line of site.
And look, he’s not staring, he isn’t creepy like Greenberg. It’s just that Danny is literally standing in front of him and he has really nice abs. Danny might be one of the biggest reason Stiles discovered his bisexuality, not that he would ever tell him that. Danny’d get a smug smile on his face and say something a little snarky about him before walking away leaving Stiles feeling a little bad and a little horny.
He looks back down at his stick and starts restringing it again, because he messed it up when the abs had shown up.
“You need some help there?” Danny asks, sounding genuine. He still doesn’t have a shirt on, in fact now he’s missing his pants too, his practice shorts are in his hand.
“Is this the kind of help you offered last year when I thought I was going to get virgin sacrificed?”
Danny laughs, his whole face lighting up and making Stiles stomach flip, “Holding onto that grudge I see. It’s not like you would have slept with me anyway.”
“I would have!” Stiles all but yells, then lowers his voice and looks around the locker room before looking back at Danny, “I totally would have.”
“Huh,” Danny says, looking at Stiles like he’s seeing him for the first time. He takes Stiles stick from his hands and quickly restrings it before handing it back, “Well maybe next time we can do something about my old offer to help you out.”
Stiles stares at him, eyes wide, but Danny doesn’t say anything else. He just pulls on his shorts and a tee shirt before winking at Stiles and jogging out of the locker room toward the field, leaving Stiles with his lacrosse stick and some seriously dirty thoughts.
Thoughts that plagued him through practice. He couldn’t focus, not with Danny in the goal, flashing a smile at him every time he went to shoot. Danny had to know that Stiles was half hard through the entire practice, it just wasn’t fair. How was he so good looking and charming?
sterek kissing under the fireworks
For the past hour, Derek’s nerves have been steadily creeping up.
He’s waved to Scott and Allison as they screeched around on the dodgem carts; Allison looking fiercely determined and Scott beaming with pride. He’s sat in horrified silence all the way round the big wheel; Lydia squeezing his arm and pointing out the view every few seconds. He’s amused himself, and Stiles, watching his face change in the hall of mirrors. Stiles was particularly tickled by how long Derek’s eyebrows went.
“You look like a really surprised cartoon!” He’d crowed before cackling at his fingers as he lifted his hands high above his head. Derek was vaguely distracted by the strip of skin showing between Stiles’ jeans and jacket as he stretched his arms up. He’d had to move on to the next mirror where Boyd and Erica were trying to scare some small children by making their eyes flash in the mirrors all around them.
He’s even wearing a cheap, ridiculous bright green bracelet Stiles won him on the shooting game.
Derek has had a nice, normal, fun evening at a carnival, and now he’d like to go home. He’d like to leave immediately, if he’s honest, because in about three minutes he’s going to make a total fool of himself, and wish he’d never agreed to come out in the first place.
In Walks Trouble (Stiles/Danny)
Title: In Walks Trouble
Pairing: Stiles/Danny
Rating: T
WC: 1563
Summary: Danny just wanted to go to the gym, like any ordinary day. The gym part he got. Any ordinary day? Not so much.
The gasping and grunting coming from the guy behind Danny is both vaguely arousing and seriously annoying. It’s not like he’s not used to it; Danny’s been a gym rat for years, and there are a great number of people who think that overdoing it to the point of not being able to breathe properly makes them look like a badass, or somehow sexy. It doesn’t make it any less irritating when he’s trying to listen to his music and the sound of some mouth-breather acting like he’s filming a porno drowns it out.
“Jesus, really?” Danny huffs, yanking out his earbuds when a long, low groan slides in under the heavy bass thrumming through his ears. Never mind the fact that his dick is telling him that’s a good groan, the kind that makes it want to stand up and say hi. It’s the fucking gym . A little consideration would be nice.
“Dude, I’m sorry,” the voice pants out, and his skin prickles, because he knows that voice.
Sure enough, when he turns around he’s confronted by his biggest high school regret: Stiles Stilinski. He stares, wide-eyed, because Stiles grew up much more nicely than Danny would have imagined. And Danny imagined it a lot.
Hello! How about 19?
My fave dude, I wrote you anotha one! Here’s #19:
“And that’s how you ruin a life. Congratulations.”
“I don’t know what you do with the pack, but you’ve let your grades slip–”
“–Dad come on–”
“–and I won’t have you missing anymore school–”
“–Dad I–”
“–and I sure as hell won’t continue to come home to you not being here–”
“–Dad–”
“–Stiles! Enough. You’re grounded. To and from school, no video games, you can keep you laptop for school only. I expect you to be here. I’ll have Ms. Winkie next door check in on you if it comes down to that,” his father snapped with finality.
Stiles deflated and scrubbed a hand over his face. This wasn’t fair. Maybe a few of his grades have slipped a letter grade, maybe his attendance has gone to shit, and maybe he hasn’t been home as often. The pack needed him though. He was the Google-Guy, the man with the plan, the bro with the brains.
They’d probably sink with out him…or something.
“Oh my God, seriously? This is what I get for helping save the town?” Stiles asked.
His father crossed his arms, “you’re seventeen Son, focus on physics or something.”
“Scott is gonna die without me! Lydia is gonna break a heel! Derek is probably gonna get in a pissing match with Peter!” Stiles tried, arms waving around to emphasize his point.
“I’m trying to keep you safe, maybe prolong your life too?”
Stiles rolled his eyes and started off to the stairs turning back to stay, “and this is how you ruin a life. Congratulations Daddy-o!”
As he marched up the stairs he could hear his father mumble something about “angsty teenagers” which ouch. Stiles was not an angsty teenager, he just wanted to look out for his friends, his pack. Was that too much to ask? Obviously it was because he was under house arrest.
He got to his room, gasping when his skin was met with cold air from the open window–
Open window?
His eyes finally landed on Derek who was on his bed, passed out and curled around one of his pillows. Stiles shut his door and locked it behind him, quietly took off his shoes, before crossing his room to the bed. The man looked content and relaxed, mouth parted with soft snores. A few months ago he might’ve freaked out over Derek Hale just being in his bed randomly. However recently they’ve been hanging out…just the two of them, which was weird at first but slowly it’s become something they both enjoy. Maybe even something they both look forward to.
They didn’t have a label yet.
It didn’t matter because Stiles still gets to see Derek all soft and mushy, sleeping on his bed like a little wereangel. Stiles crawled up the bed, flopping down only for Derek’s eyes to flicker open suddenly. Arms wrapped around him and Stiles found himself becoming Derek’s replacement for the pillow.
“You smell like shit.”
“Literally or metaphorically?” Stiles asked which got him a flick to the ear.
“You smell like anger and anxiety, what happened?”
Stiles paused before letting out a sigh, hiding his face in Derek’s chest, “my dad grounded me for being with the pack too much.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, so I’m on lockdown until I die.”
Derek’s hand ran through his hair, “I’m here. So lockdown isn’t that bad.”
“Since when are you this good with words?” Stiles teased, looking up with a smirk.
A quick flutter of kisses were pressed along his jaw and face, and Derek pulled back with a shrug. Stiles chuckled and pressed himself back into the older man, his hands fiddling with the soft cotton of his henley. Derek held him close, giving him an update of some pack stuff that happened after he left.
ASK ME PROMPTS FOR THE DRABBLE CHALLENGE!
“…It was raining. Your door was closer.” with Sterek?
It was not Stiles day. Well it hadn’t really been his day, his week, his month, or his year, pardon his FRIENDS reference. Today was the cherry on top of the shittiest semester he’d ever had, and he thought the last semester was suppose to be fun.
First he had slept through his alarm so he was 10 minutes late to one of his finals, then his laptop had crashed and he had lost his last paper of his college career, the Jeep wouldn’t start, and to top it all off when he started walking home the skies had opened.
“Mother fucker,” Stiles muttered to himself, putting his hood up, knowing it wouldn’t do him any good.
His apartment was over a mile away and it was getting cold. Because his day couldn’t get any worse by making a stupid like decision he turned left instead of going straight and jogged toward Derek’s apartment building.
He stopped in doorway and shook his head to get the rain out of his eyes before pressing Derek’s button and waiting for his voice over the intercom. “Who is it?”
“Derek…hey,” Stiles said with a sigh, “…It’s raining. Your door was closer.”
There wasn’t a sound except the buzz of Derek letting him into the building. Stiles let out a breathe that he didn’t know he was holding and stepped into the apartment.
Stiles and Derek hadn’t really talked this semester, they were both busy, but mostly Stiles was trying to get over his crush on Derek. They had gotten really drunk at a party before the semester started and made out, then they hadn’t talked about it. Avoidance had been the easiest road to take because Stiles didn’t want to have his heart ripped out of his chest by a guy he’d been in love with for years.
shealwaysreads 