Oh god, but you don’t understand how much I think about this.
I have various headcanons about Stiles’ moles, some of them very angsty. For example, I am 100% certain the reason Stiles never takes his shirt off in public is because he’s insecure about his body. But he’s not just insecure, he was teased as a kid because he has these moles all over his body. They make patterns, there are clusters,and when he was younger he was always made fun of for them and the only person who ever made him feel good about it was his mom and when she died…well. Let’s just say not even his Dad or Scott has seen Stiles in any state on undress since. If he has to change it’s as quick as possible or behind a door or locker. He just hates his body. Hates how he feels whenever he catches sight of himself in a mirror or in the shower. Hates how skinny and pale he is. And sometimes he just wishes someone would just say “hey, no, you’re gorgeous”, like one of those cheesy romantic comedies when the girl is all insecure and shy and doesn’t realise how amazing she is. (Stiles makes sure to tell every girl she is pretty, just fyi, because of this. You know he’s all for making women feel good about themselves.) And it’s pathetic, really, how much he fantasises about someone just calling him pretty or attractive and not comparing him to Scott or Danny or Jackson. For once, Stiles just wants to be the one in a crowded room. Stiles wants to be the hot girl.
And Derek, like wise, always got teased for his bunny teeth. Not in school, but after the fire, when he grew up and became less lovable jock and more bad boy serial killer, his bunny teeth and baby elephant ears really stood out. Laura always teased him for it and while he didn’t mind Laura teasing- he’d give anything to have that teasing back- it still got to him. You know those insecurities you have, where you know they are nothing bad or major, but they make you lose all your confidence you could ever be seen as beautiful or sexy to someone? And Derek knows he’s hot, he’s been called it enough. Used enough. But no one has ever called him beautiful or looked at his face rather than his body, and while he thinks he doesn’t deserve to be called beautiful or to be looked at like he matters, he can’t help but think without his bunny teeth and baby elephant ears someone might.
And so, of course, enter Sterek. Two insecure dorks colliding. And Stiles, from the very first moment, melts over how adorable Derek is when he smiles. He looks like the cutest, angriest bunny in the world and Stiles just wants to feed him treats and tell him how lovely he is in between snarking with him about the latest Beacon Hill’s mystery. And don’t you think for one moment Derek doesn’t let his mind wander, thinking about, wondering, just how many moles Stiles has under his clothes. It consumes him, and the first day he sees Stiles without his shirt- after a battle most likely, all bloody and banged up- he just…he can’t stop staring. Stiles thinks it’s about the blood because Derek told him not to leap in front of that thing- Stiles still doesn’t know what the fuck it was- but said thing was going to rip Erica’s head off if he didn’t do something (like charge at it with his trusty bat.)
And just…first, give me a slow build. Give me shy looks and tentative kisses. Give me arguments that lead to desperate groping and panting into each other’s mouths and whispered love confessions. And then give me sex. Give me sex in which Derek spends hours mapping out Stiles’ body; with his eyes, with his mouth, with his fingers. Give me Stiles making a hundred jokes about it to try and deflect from the fact he’s trembling and wants to cry because Derek is looking at his body with nothing by awe and reverence and it’s kind of a lot to handle. Give me post sex where Stiles gently presses deliberate kisses to Derek’s mouth and ears and calls him beautiful and Derek looking away, cheeks growing hot, insides fluttering because…oh. That’s what that feels like.
Give me both of these dorks never letting the other close their eyes when they come during sex because each of them think the other has the most beautiful pair of eyes in the entire mythical land. Especially when they make love or smile or just…okay, so there isn’t any special time their eyes don’t make each other think “what did I do in a past life to get you?” but looking into each others’ eyes when they make love? Yeah, that’s some special lovin’ feeling.
“Thank you for sharing, Mikey,” Stiles exclaimed, clapping his hands to encourage the rest of the class to follow suit. “Your dad sounds awesome!” He received a big toothy grin from the boy and ushered him to take his seat.
He glanced down at a paper on his desk, skimming over it for moment, then smiled over at the little brunette girl in the corner. His heart melted at the shy smile he received in turn and he gestured her forward.
“Next up, we have Anya! Come on up, sweetheart.”
She wandered forward, gaze downcast, and turned to face the rest of her peers once she stopped by Stiles’ desk. He noticed her hands in tight fists at her sides and her brow low in a deep frown. He couldn’t help but think of how much she resembled her father.
“Mr. Hale, it’s nice to meet you,” Stiles said as he stood from his desk and shook the other man’s hand. Lydia was going to hate him later when he gushed to her about how attractive this man was with his hazel eyes and well kept stubble and how is shirt revealed just how fit he was.
Stiles cleared his throat when he realized he’d been staring too long and gestured to the empty seat. “Please.”
“Call me Derek,” the man responded as he sat down.
“Alright, Derek, well-”
“Dad, can I go play with the blocks?” Anya, who had come with her father, interrupted, tugging at his sleeve.
The scowl on Derek’s face that had been there since they arrived vanished in an instant, a look of fondness replacing it when he turned to his daughter. “Only if Mr. S says you can.”
Stiles glanced at the little girl and winked at her. “Of course you can. We’ll be talking adult stuff anyway and that’s boring.”
Anya wrinkled her nose in disgust before dashing off to the back of the room.
Stiles chuckled and smiled at the man across him. “She’s adorable.”
“She is,” Derek replied, lips pulled up ever so slightly at the edges. “How’s she doing in class? She’s not too much of a handful, is she?”
“Hardly. She’s doing very well academically, but…” Stiles trailed off as he flipped through the file on his desk, trying to remember what he’d written down.
“But?” Stiles glanced up to see the scowl had returned.
Stiles sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. “She struggles socially. You see, I have my students do group activities at least once a day. That’s typically the best way to get them to interact with each other. But I’ve noticed she stays very quiet, only says a few words every now and then. Even at recess, she’s alone.”
Derek let out a heavy sigh, running a hand over his face. “She takes after me, unfortunately. I’m sorry for the trouble.”
“No, don’t apologize. She’s a really sweet and smart girl. It’s just a part of who she is and I think it’s great.”
Derek stared at him long and hard, as though trying to figure him out, then slowly nodded. “That’s good.”
“It is.” Stiles nodded with him.
He had no idea, then, that he’d be seeing Derek Hale more often after that first meeting and end up falling in love with him.
“My dad’s a cop,” Anya stated, surprisingly loud. Well, loud for her. “He chases bad guys and saves kitties from trees and helps keep the city safe.” She placed a policeman’s cap on her head that she’d brought with her, grinning. Stiles smiled when he noticed it was Derek’s cap and felt his heart melt even more. “He’s very brave and smart. Sometimes, he’ll let me turn the siren on in his car!” Sounds of awe sounded from the class and Stiles chuckled. “He’s busy lots, but that’s okay. ‘Cause I know he’s keeping me and everyone else safe.”
She turned to Stiles, eyes pleading with him to let her sit back down and he nodded. As she raced off to her chair, he clapped, the class quickly following his example.
“Thank you for telling us about your dad, Anya,” he said as he glanced at the clock. “Okay, everyone, that’s it for today. Remember, we’ll be having our spelling test tomorrow, okay?” He received a loud ‘okay’ from his class just as the bell rang. He waved off every student as they left, even gave a few high fives. Once the classroom was empty, he slowly made his way around each desk to pick up any crayons or paper that the children had left.
“Mr. S?” Stiles turned to see Anya standing in the classroom doorway, looking at him anxiously.
“Hey Anya, what are you still doing here? You’re going to miss the bus.”
“I just wanted to ask if you could bring some of that soup you made me once? Dad’s sick and I don’t know how to cook. But I remember him saying your soup super good.”
Concern raced through him, but he put his best smile on for her. “I’ll see what I can do, sweetie. Now hurry up! I don’t want you to miss your ride!”
Anya smiled. “Thanks Mr. S!” Stiles shook his head as she disappeared in the hall. His mind wandered to Derek and he bit his lip in worry. He quickly finished cleaning the room, packed his bag and hurried out to his car.
About a month ago, Anya had missed a week of school due to a nasty cold. No one had asked him then, but he’d made a chicken noodle soup that he took from his mother’s recipe book and dropped it off at the police station for Derek. The following Monday, Anya had come back with a note from her father, thanking him.
He hurried home and grabbed the leftover soup from his fridge that he’d made for Mrs. Edwards the other day. Then he got back in his car and drove straight to Derek’s house. After about the third parent-teacher conference and the ninth time running into him in public and starting up a conversation (not that he was keeping track), Derek had given him his address. He had said it was just in case Anya missed the bus, but Stiles had a feeling it was for more than that. However, he’d never had a reason to go to his place before.
He pulled up in front of the small house that had a police cruiser parked in the driveway nearly fifteen minutes later. He picked up the soup and headed up the front steps, knocking on the door once he reached it.
It was Anya who opened it and smiled brightly up at him. “I knew you would come! Dad didn’t believe me!”
Stiles smiled back and handed her the container. “That’s because you’re very smart.”
If possible, her smile grew.
“Anya?” Stiles looked up to see Derek making his way over, hugging a blanket tightly around him. He spotted Stiles and paused before standing beside his daughter. His nose was bright red, hair sticking to his forehead for sweat and eyes dull from fatigue. “What are you doing here?”
“Anya told me you were sick and requested the soup I made her,” he explained. “No offense, but you look horrible.”
Derek rolled his eyes before suddenly going into a coughing fit, holding the blanket over his mouth.
“I’m fine,” he replied once he could speak again.
“Yeah, right. Here, let me warm this up for you. Go sit down.” Stiles took the container from Anya who quickly realized what he was doing and led him into the kitchen. He heard Derek grumble something, but shut the front door and shuffle into the living room.
Anya hopped up on the counter and pointed to where the pots and pans were when he asked, quietly watching him warm up the soup.
“Can you teach me how to cook someday, Mr. S?” Anya inquired, kicking her feet.
Stiles froze for a moment then focused on the soup. “I don’t know about that, sweetie.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t really teach you that at school.”
She let out a soft giggle and he couldn’t help but smile. “I meant here!”
“Oh, that’s up to your dad.” Images of cooking for the three of them entered his mind and he quickly shook his head to rid himself of them. He blamed it on the long day he had. “Now, where are the bowls?”
Anya turned and opened a cabinet behind her, pulling one out and handing it to him. He turned the stove off and poured some of the soup into the bowl. Anya jumped off the counter and opened a drawer, handing him a spoon, before skipping into the living room. Stiles smiled and put the spoon in the soup before following after her.
Derek was sitting on the couch, shoulders slumped, as he stared at the TV which had some kid show running for Anya.
Stiles sat down on the coffee table and handed the bowl to Derek. The other man blinked and looked at it for a moment before he took it.
“This is really good,” Derek told him after taking a small bite.
“Anya mentioned you’d said that last time,” Stiles responded with a grin.
If Derek wasn’t already flushed with a fever, Stiles would question the redness on the tips of his ears and rising up his throat.
“She talks too much,” he grumbled before taking another bite.
Stiles laughed. “That’s what kids do.” Derek nodded as he continued to eat. “Anything else I can do for you while I’m here?”
“Go out with me,” Derek blurted. Stiles blinked and leaned back a bit in surprise. “I mean, that’s not, um…”
“I’d love to.” Now it was Derek’s turn to look surprised. “But you have to get better first. I have kids that need me to teach them and they hate substitutes.”
“Mr. Harris wasn’t nice,” Anya stated from her spot on the floor in front of the TV. Stiles and Derek chuckled before meeting each other’s gaze.
“Sounds like a plan,” Derek responded. “Although, I have no idea how long I’ll have this cold, so you might need to bring more soup by.”
Stiles smile grew. “I think that can be arranged.”
Two weeks later, Stiles arrived at the police station, twitching nervously. He glanced around and realized several officers were staring at him. He moved to a corner of the room and stood there until Derek walked in, still in his police officer uniform. He glanced at him and smiled.
“I hope you weren’t waiting long,” he said as he walked over. “Anya was delaying going to the babysitter’s for some reason.”
Stiles chuckled. “That’s because she wanted to hang out with us tonight.”
“Ah. That makes sense. Well, are you ready?” Stiles nodded and walked with Derek to his cruiser, letting the other man open the passenger door for him. He slid into the seat and let out a shaky breath. He knew he didn’t need to be nervous, but he couldn’t help it. It was their first date after months of just casual conversation and parent-teacher conferences.
Derek got behind the driver’s seat and started the car. “Sorry about the uniform. I wasn’t able to change after my shift.”
“Hey, no worries. Kids are a hassle. I should know.” They both laughed softly as Derek started driving. “Besides, you look good.” This time, Stiles could clearly see the tips of his ears redden and he smiled, pleased that he could do that to Derek.
“Thanks. You look good, too.”
Stiles wanted to keep complimenting him, but decided against it and instead started some small talk. Only because he was half paying attention due to other thoughts of them finally going running through his mind.
They pulled up to a restaurant after about twenty minutes and Stiles impatiently waited for Derek to get his door. Once out, he took a deep breath and gently tapped his fingers against Derek’s. He couldn’t help but notice the smile on Derek’s face before he felt their fingers intertwine as they walked into the restaurant.
“Table for two, please,” Derek told the hostess. They followed her to one of the back rooms and sat down across from each other. Stiles refrained himself from scowling when he noticed her eyeing Derek as she made a show of handing Derek his menu, dropping Stiles’ loudly in front him, and sauntering away.
“Do you get that a lot?” Stiles inquired as Derek opened his menu.
Derek paused and glanced at him. “A lot of what?”
“People staring at you, being flirty, getting all up in your face…”
Derek shrugged. “Comes with the job.”
Stiles sputtered. “But stuff like what she was doing?!”
Derek set his menu down and met his gaze. “Stiles, I’m a cop. Women like a man in a suit. Well, some do. And yes, that’s a common occurrence.”
Stiles shook his head. “It’s not just because of the uniform, Derek.” Derek’s eyebrow rose and he sighed. “You’re really attractive. Anyone can see that. That’s where all the attention comes into play. The uniform doesn’t help that.” Derek chuckled and glanced down. Stiles knew unease when he saw it and reached a hand out, placing it on the other man’s arm. Derek looked back up at him, a small, nervous smile on his lips. “But I see more than that. I see a good father, a patient, loving man and a brave and selfless cop. That’s why I’m here with you now.”
Derek’s tense shoulders visibly relaxed at his words. “That’s why I like you, Stiles. You’re so kind and honest. A wonderful man.” Stiles smiled, feeling a blush rise up his cheeks. Suddenly, Derek leaned over the table and pressed his lips against Stiles’. Stiles’ made a noise of surprise before he kissed him back. After a moment, though, Derek pulled away and sat back down. “Thank you for coming with me.”
“Thank you for asking me out,” Stiles replied as he finally looked down at the menu. He barely noticed they were holding hands across the table until after they’d ordered and their food arrived, forcing them to let go.
Derek took a spoonful of the soup he’d ordered and made a face. Stiles covered his mouth to keep from laughing.
“Is it that bad?” he asked.
“Your soup is so much better,” Derek said flatly as he glared at the steaming bowl in front of him.
“Sounds like another date.” Stiles waggled his eyebrows, forcing a laugh out of Derek.
He watches the guy’s retreating back with interest, and Cora looks up from the biology book she’s frowning at like it was written in some hybrid of Latin and short-hand.
“Who, Derek?” she asks, brow rising. She looks thoughtfully to the space the other guy had occupied seconds before, and pulls a face. “Not really. In fact three of the girls on the swim team very graphically informed me how not shy he is.” She looks slightly sick with it, and let’s out an exaggerated shudder.
Teen Wolf. G. 5.6k. Stiles/Derek. Fluff. Domestic. Assumed dating. Fake relationship.
Two idiots in love who think having a fake relationship and a fake breakup is the way to handle clearing the air when some people assume they’re dating… because that’s what they told them.
“I know you can hear me right now, so please come help me carry up these bags,” Stiles mutters. He waits a moment before getting out of Derek’s Camaro and popping the trunk. Stiles leans back on the heels of his feet and frowns. He may have gone overboard.
“Jesus, did you buy one of everything?”
Stiles does not jump. He’s used to Derek sneaking up on him these days. But when their eyes meet, Stiles sees Derek’s smirk. He knows Stiles’ heart rate has spiked. Fucking bastard.
“I have big plans this week,” Stiles says, defensively. He watches as Derek starts to slide the handles of the bags onto his arm. Stupid fucking werewolf strength.
“I’m not doing this all by myself, you know,” Derek tells him over his shoulder. He steps back and damn. Derek’s wearing the black t-shirt that Stiles had accidentally shrunk in the wash. It’s so goddamn tight over his chest… his arms… and when Derek adjusts himself, it shows a little of his midriff.
So you guys really really love Hoechlin’s beard. 😉 And these aren’t even all the beard related asks I have in my askbox, but these were the ones I feel like I could handwave enough to lob together for one prompt fill. So here it is! A fic about how a beard ruined Stiles’ life! (There’s actually a lot less beard love in here than I planned, but there’s a lot of love for the lumberjack image, so deal with it.)
* * *
Stiles is gonna die. This is it, this is the end, farewell cruel
world. Except, how cruel can the world be when it creates a person
that looks like… that?
The person in question is in the same gas station Stiles is, paying
for gas while Stiles is perusing the magazines. Or, rather, pretending to peruse the magazines so he can covertly ogle the
object of his attraction.
The guy is tall, or at least he looks it. Without those big work
boots on he’s probably about Stiles’ height, but he just cuts such a
noticeable figure that it’s hard to tell. He’s broad, showing off
strong, hairy forearms under the rolled up sleeves of his plaid
button-up, and Stiles only dares a quick look at the pert ass in the
dark jeans. Any more than that and he’s gonna have a situation
the likes of which he hasn’t had since he was a teenager, where a
brisk breeze could get him going.
But the pièce de résistance, without question, is the beard.
It’s lush, full, all kinds of words that signify something glorious
and soft that Stiles wants to rub his entire body against. There’s
the tiniest smidge of gray breaking up the black, and it’s not
hurting the image at all. Plus, the guy can’t be that old.
He’s got a full mane of black hair and not that many wrinkles that
Stiles can see. Not that it would matter, Stiles would still want to
be all up in this man’s business if he was a senior citizen. The
heart – or whatever is talking right now – wants what it wants.
Actually, the only real problem that Stiles can find is that from now
on there’s a very real risk he’s gonna pop a boner over Paul Bunyan
from sheer association.
This guy I was talking to was saying how women play sports just as well as men, and he said, “One time I was reffing a womens softball game, on the full moon, and -“
And I was like, ” Why does it matter that it was on the full moon?“
and he was like “Well, you know, the full moon… women on the full moon"
and i was like ‘I don’t get it’
and he was like “Periods"
and he thought all women just get their periods on the full moon and i just thought it was really funny that he confused women with werewolves.
shealwaysreads 