hoechlbutt:

ladydrace:

mlmsrogers:

excuse me while i set myself on fire because yes to all of this

i just really love insecure!stiles (actually, i love both of them being insecure) and stiles being hesitant about getting naked with derek because derek is derek and he’s, well, not

i’m all for stiles being nervous when he’s making out with derek and there’s a large hand sneaking up under his shirt, warm fingers against his lower back making him shudder where he’s seated on derek’s lap, his own hands going from being buried in derek’s hair to running down his firm chest

and when derek pulls back, eyes dark and full of lust, a brow quirked in a silent question, stiles feels his heart hammer in his chest because this is it. this is where he lets derek see him, all of him, moles and everything, and that thought only makes him more nervous

derek, of course, knows that stiles is nervous right away and immediately tells him he doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to. but the thing is, stiles does want to. he wants to so badly, but his entire body is covered in moles, something he’s never been happy about, has always hated that they’re everywhere

and when he tells derek, derek looks at him seriously, hands cupping his face and thumb brushing over his cheek bone, and he tells him that he’s beautiful. every inch of him. and stiles scoffs, halfheartedly, and tells him he can’t possibly know that

it takes a while of derek just telling stiles every little thing he finds beautiful about stiles (derek even lists off the moles along stiles’ neck as a part of what makes stiles beautiful, which, of course, only makes stiles flush) but then finally stiles takes in a deep breath and pulls his shirt off, letting derek see all of him

and derek looks at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. because he is. he really is. and derek tells him exactly that just before moving down to kiss the first mole he spots on stiles’ pale chest, feels stiles shudder in his hold

when they finally get the rest of their clothes off and derek gets to see everything – every scar, every mole, and every hair anywhere – he just can’t stop kissing and licking and tasting, mapping out the moles covering stiles’ body

“they’re like stars on a clear night sky,” he tells him and stiles snorts and calls him a sappy poet, but derek can see the flush even in the dim lit room they’re in

and whenever stiles gets naked, because he slowly gets more and more comfortable doing so, derek can never hold himself back from leaning over and kissing the first several moles he spots, his mouth instantly knowing exactly where they are

and over time, stiles learns to not hate his moles, learns to smile at his own reflection and sometimes he can’t help but lightly touch at where derek’s mouth was on him earlier, mapping out the moles scattered all over his body

Charlie, can I get in on this? Because yes, all of that, I’m 100% a fan. But what about this tiny alternative: what if Stiles steels himself when he finally takes his shirt off, steels himself for Derek’s rhapsodizing, because, yes, it’s amazing to be the recipient of all these declarations of love and all, but they’re all just words, when it comes right down to it. More important when they come from Derek, who doesn’t just throw them around carelessly, but still just words. 

And somewhere in his insecurity-pickled mind he can’t help but think that Derek will say all the right things, but will inevitably kinda have to struggle to touch Stiles or look at him, because come on, he looks gross. All shit-spattered and gawky. (oh bb no, don’t listen to those fucking bullies.)

But then, off comes the shirt, and Derek just fucking loses track of what he was even doing, too busy dropping his jaw and clenching his fingers a little too hard around Stiles’ hips and just staring. And the first thing out of his mouth isn’t any of the dreaded platitudes. It’s a simple and awed “wow”. Eyes darting around, like they can’t settle on just one thing, needing to take it all in, licking his lips like five times in the minute or so he spends just looking his fill, and Stiles is just sitting there like what.

But there’s really no arguing with how Derek’s dick actually jerks so hard Stiles can feel it through two pairs of jeans against his ass, and definitely no arguing with the hungry way Derek sways forward with a breathless “… can I?… please?” before kissing his way wetly from one mole to the next, sucking bruises into his freckles and just generally degenerates into a complete lust-dumb mess, and he pulls Stiles right down with him.

Afterwards, in their pile of sweaty and sated limbs, Derek grumbles about how he’d totally planned to rhapsodize, because Stiles deserves goddamn sonnets written about him, and Stiles just laughs softly and kisses his perfect lover. 

Bless you, Minna, this is perfect!