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66. “The only thing I want is you.”
“So what? Are we just not going to talk about it?” Stiles says, pacing
back and forth in front of Derek. He had
stormed into Derek’s house moments before, not bothering to knock. Searching
the main floor for Derek, he had found said man sitting on the sofa in the den
reading; the sight had made Stiles’ blood boil.Derek doesn’t look up from the book in his lap as he replies, “there’s
nothing to talk about.”Stiles looks at Derek in shock, his expression morphing into a glare as
he takes in the older man in front of him. While Derek seemed relaxed, his
posture is stiff and he clutches the book in his hand, causing his knuckles to turn white.“No,” Stiles announces with a shake of his head, “I am not letting you
ignore this!”“What do you want from me, Stiles?”
“I want you to acknowledge what I said last night.”
“I thought I already had.”
Tag: love confessions
After receiving such kind words from @michicant123 I really wanted to write something, so please, have this as a thank you ❤
***
Derek opened his eyes slowly, he could feel the small
beam of sun light snaking its way through his window, warming his skin. He
turned over, allowing it to wake him up properly. He felt peaceful, a concept
that used to be very rare for him, but he wasn’t complaining.
He could hear
someone downstairs and the thought didn’t immediately make him jump out of bed,
he felt content knowing it was probably someone in the pack. He didn’t imagine
he would ever get to this place, having a family again, people he trusted with
his life, people who made his life feel complete in a way he hadn’t felt in a
very long time.He heard a laugh that made him smile. Of course Stiles
was here; Derek would never admit it to him, but he missed Stiles when he
stayed at home for a few days, realising how vast the space was in the loft.
Derek enjoyed his own company, sure, but being surrounded by family, by his
pack, was something that brought him a comfort he couldn’t explain.“Hey, you’re up” Stiles said with a smile as Derek
descended the stairs.“’bout time, we were gonna eat without you” Erica
laughed, putting a few extra slices of bacon on the plate before handing it to
Derek, pressing a kiss to his cheek.“How long have you guys been here?” Derek queried, moving
to the kitchen to grab a fork before sitting at the counter.“About an hour” Stiles said muffled, scrambled eggs
taking up the majority of the space in his mouth.Derek just nodded in response as he tucked into his own
breakfast, his eyes drifting to the guy sitting opposite him. Stiles is such a
complicated character that Derek has taken years to know. He forgets sometimes
how far apart they used to be, but when he thinks about it now, he’s glad they
formed the friendship they did.They have all suffered their fair share of bad
experiences, leading them to be the people they are today. They won’t ever be
fully healed, no one can come out of what they all experienced and remain unscathed,
but that was their life. Supernatural beings don’t usually live a life full of
harmony and rainbows, but this, this right here, was pretty damn close.
sTeReK 15?
“Because I love you!” Stiles shouts, and then immediately sucks in a hard breath, eyes bulging wide in horror and disbelief. Did he really just…
Derek’s own eyes go wide as well, though the rest of his face remains carefully frozen. Scott looks like he swallowed a bug. So yep, Stiles really just. He did that. In front of basically everyone he knows.
“I mean.” He starts and stops. His dad’s got an unimpressed eyebrow raised in his direction. Cora looks like she’s fighting back mean laughter. This is not the direction any of them probably expected this newest argument between Stiles and Derek to go, but none of them seem exactly shocked by it.
Except for Derek.
“Okay, so.” Stiles shakes it off and launches back in on the topic at hand. “Tabling that embarrassing outburst for the time being, I’m still right and Derek still shouldn’t be the one who plays bait for this asshole.”
“Why, because you just can’t bear to live without him?” Isaac smirks, rolling his eyes.
Stiles grits his teeth and digs his fingers into his thighs to keep from punching the douchebag. “Because the warlock is expecting it. We need the element of surprise on our side here, and Derek playing martyr yet again won’t give us that.”
The group easily falls back into battle planning mode then, and even if they don’t necessarily forget Stiles’ heated confession, they’ve got bigger fish to fry at the moment and they all know it. Derek included, who shakes his head minutely when Stiles starts talking, and then pipes up with an idea for a new plan as though nothing ever happened.
Stiles is outwardly grateful for Derek’s composure, but internally bereft. He can feel a hollow point in the center of his chest appear and slowly grow.
Later, when the blood has been shed, and the bad guy has been slain, and Scott is offering up his Hallmark card platitudes to those who need it as they shuffle their way towards a shower and a bed. Later, when they’ve all somehow survived another life-or-death go around with another big bad and don’t have the energy to wonder if the next one will finally be their last one…
Later. Derek falls into step beside Stiles, and asks, without looking at him, “Did you mean it?”
Stiles rolls his shoulders and stuffs his hands firmly into his pockets. He lets his eyes obsess over the grooves in the battered blacktop they’re walking across to get to their respective vehicles. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Derek.”
“Don’t tell me you’re in love with me in the middle of a fight then.”
Stiles stops walking and turns on him, throwing his arms out into the air uselessly. “Fine! Shit. I’m sorry, alright? What do you want from me?”
Derek purses his lips thoughtfully for a moment. Then bites down on the tiniest of smiles and steps forward, into Stiles’ personal space. “I just wish I had been brave enough to say it first is all.”
Stiles blinks. Forgets how to breathe. Blinks again. “Wait. What?”
Derek shrugs one shoulder and pretends to study his shoes while unsubtly inching even closer. “I’m just saying. We should probably take turns with the romantic declarations, or I’ll never actually get the chance to tell you I love you too.”
Either Stiles passed out at some point or this is a very crass prank.
But Derek takes his hand then and holds it like it’s sacred. Like it’s normal.
“Holy shit, pinch me,” Stiles whispers.
Derek winks, and looks like a complete dork while he does it. “Maybe later.”
Stiles has never been more in love with him.
Let me help you by Smowkie (1517 words)
Summary:
“That’s it, there you go,” Stiles said softly and Derek groaned as he leaned his stiff and newly healed body against Stiles’ bare chest. “Just a little longer before you can go to bed.”
–
After a fight with some unnamed big bad Stiles takes care of Derek.
For the awesome @ladydrace, because it’s her BIRTHDAY! Happy birthday, you wonderful human you!
IT WAS SO WONDERFUL, AND I LOVED IT! ❤ ❤ ❤
“Yeah?” Stiles smiled.
“Yeah,” Derek nodded, and after a moment, they moved to erase the foot of space that had still been between them.
Stiles rested his forehead against Derek’s, and he shivered when Derek rubbed his nose against his in a gesture that felt close to an eskimo kiss, but not quite.
Stiles let out a shaky breath. “My heart is beating out of my chest.”
“I can hear it,” Derek smiled, and Stiles let out a shaky laugh, his hands coming up to rest on Derek’s shoulders as Derek wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist. “Mine’s beating crazily too.”
Stiles huffed, a big smile on his face as he whispered, “can I kiss you?”
“Of course,” Derek whispered, and then Stiles bridged the space between them and kissed him softly on the lips, and the kiss was as comfortably familiar as it was shockingly surprising. Stiles knew the touch and taste and texture of Derek’s lips, but the zing in his blood always shocked him and made him inhale sharply, his already rapid heartbeat speeding up as Derek deepened the kiss.
Their bodies plastered together, arms around each other, they got lost in their kisses, in each other.
They had been together almost a year, but they hadn’t said “I love you” to each other until then, and it had been a long time coming, truly. Stiles knew he had been in love with Derek before they had even gotten together, but he had waited to confess because it had felt a little too soon to declare his everlasting love after a week of dating.
He had also been scared of Derek not returning his love, and just the thought alone of Derek saying “thank you” in response or “I don’t love you” to his declaration of love had been enough to make Stiles to hold back the words whenever he had been on the verge of saying them and take things slow with him.
Derek was so incredibly important to him that he didn’t want to mess it up, and so he had held back so they could just enjoy the experience of dating each other.
But there Derek had been, smiling softly as he tried not to dance to the music he had on as he cleaned the living room, but then failed and ended up dancing silly, singing a little off key to the song, and Stiles had just felt so enamored by his boyfriend that when Derek finished and turned off the music, Stiles had pushed off the wall he had been leaning on and walked toward Derek, who had looked surprised when he saw Stiles, and then smiled widely.
And then Stiles had just blurted it out.
And here they were, having to break apart to get some much needed oxygen into their lungs.
“I had a whole scenario in my head where I said it first,” Derek murmured, resting his forehead against Stiles’ once more, and Stiles grinned.
“You did?”
Concept 4:
Stiles is drunk. The party slides around him in washes of color and sound– everything transient, nothing sticking. Bass thumps in his eardrums, turning his stomach. Derek appears as a blessing, half out the door before he even makes it through the foyer, but still the most solid thing Stiles has seen all night.
“I hate this,” Stiles whispers, his breath hot against Derek’s sensitive ear. “You’re the only person here worth talking to.”
“Okay,” Derek says, his hand settling solid and reassuring on Stiles’ hip. “So let’s go somewhere that isn’t here.”
EDIT:
“What were you even doing there?” Stiles peers at Derek curiously over the rim of his mug. The coffee isn’t quite strong enough to dissolve tooth enamel, but coupled with the brisk walk from the rave to the diner, it’s doing wonders for counteracting his buzz. “A warehouse party isn’t really your scene.”
Derek shrugs, placidly plowing his way through a mountain-high portion of chicken souvlaki. His knees keeps knocking against Stiles’ under the chipped Formica tabletop, and Stiles can’t find it in himself to pretend to mind.
“Didn’t really look like your scene, either,” Derek says, meeting Stiles’ gaze unblinkingly. His wackadoo eyes make Stiles’ head spin, and it’s easy to blame it on the booze. Bourbon, Stiles thinks admonishingly. When will you learn that bourbon is not your friend.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he huffs, darting his hand across the table to snatch a few of Derek’s fries, nearly knocking a glass of water over in the process. Derek rolls his eyes heavenward with a sigh, and then rotates his plate so that the truly impressive mound of deep fried potato is facing Stilinskiwards. Stiles bites down on a victorious whoop, and grabs another handful to cram into his mouth.
Derek watches him chew happily, his ridiculous eyebrows drawn together in the expression Stiles has categorized as “exasperated but fond.” It’s much preferred to the look that Stiles used to get, which was better classified as “imminent manslaughter”.
“So, this is nice,” Stiles begins, at the same time Derek sets down his fork and says, “Scott told me about your fight.”
Tell me Tomorrow
“Alright, here we go,” Derek said softly, maneuvering Stiles’ coltish limbs to get him seated on the bed without toppling both of them over in an inebriated heap. Stiles made an indignant noise at the man-handling, and Derek bit back a smile. Occasionally he regretted not being able to get drunk himself, but it was amusing enough to see his friends in this state. He knelt and started loosening the laces of Stiles’ shoes, murmuring, “let’s take these off.”
Once his charge was in sock feet, Derek got him standing again, manfully ignoring how handsy Stiles he was being. As usual. Was it a lack of inhibitions or lack of balance that made the difference? He could never tell.
“C’mon, let’s get you into some sweats,” he encouraged, hoping Stiles was at least sober enough to change his own pants.
The running commentary was as much for his benefit as Stiles’. It played into that familiar, worn persona: Derek the responsible older friend, bringing Drunky McDrunkface home safe and tucking him in because the kid didn’t know how to hold his liquor. Youths!
That was who he was supposed to be, anyways. God knows they weren’t anything else to each other. The big brother role didn’t quite fit now, if it ever had, but framing things that way still seemed infinitely preferable to coming at this situation – alone with Stiles in his dimly-lit room, helping him out of his stiff jeans and into soft sleep clothes – without any emotional barriers in place.
“Hey, Derek,” Stiles stage whispered, leaning close.
“What?”
Stiles snorted back a giggle, tripping over his own feet a little as he slung an arm around Derek’s shoulder, grabbing at his wrist with the other hand for balance. “Derek.”
“What?” Stiles had moved to clutching his bicep, now, face bobbing close enough that Derek could smell the crisp gin on his breath. It was gross, he reminded himself. He resented Scott for sending him home to deal with Stiles while he and Kira stayed out celebrating their new degrees. He did.
“Derek, I…” Stiles broke off in a laugh again. “I…”
You… what? Derek wondered, but he suppressed his curiosity with gritted teeth. As if Stiles’ teasing wasn’t irritating enough sober. At least then it was usually comprehensible. “If you can’t spit it out now, just tell me tomorrow wen you’re sober.”
Stiles squinted at him, a surprisingly steady and weighing look. “Okay,” he said finally.
“Okay,” Derek echoed, glancing back at the bed. “Well, let’s…”
The kiss took him entirely by surprise, enough that his knees bumped the edge of the bed and buckled.
“Yeah?” Stiles smiled.
“Yeah,” Derek nodded, and after a moment, they moved to erase the foot of space that had still been between them.
Stiles rested his forehead against Derek’s, and he shivered when Derek rubbed his nose against his in a gesture that felt close to an eskimo kiss, but not quite.
Stiles let out a shaky breath. “My heart is beating out of my chest.”
“I can hear it,” Derek smiled, and Stiles let out a shaky laugh, his hands coming up to rest on Derek’s shoulders as Derek wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist. “Mine’s beating crazily too.”
Stiles huffed, a big smile on his face as he whispered, “can I kiss you?”
“Of course,” Derek whispered, and then Stiles bridged the space between them and kissed him softly on the lips, and the kiss was as comfortably familiar as it was shockingly surprising. Stiles knew the touch and taste and texture of Derek’s lips, but the zing in his blood always shocked him and made him inhale sharply, his already rapid heartbeat speeding up as Derek deepened the kiss.
Their bodies plastered together, arms around each other, they got lost in their kisses, in each other.
They had been together almost a year, but they hadn’t said “I love you” to each other until then, and it had been a long time coming, truly. Stiles knew he had been in love with Derek before they had even gotten together, but he had waited to confess because it had felt a little too soon to declare his everlasting love after a week of dating.
He had also been scared of Derek not returning his love, and just the thought alone of Derek saying “thank you” in response or “I don’t love you” to his declaration of love had been enough to make Stiles to hold back the words whenever he had been on the verge of saying them and take things slow with him.
Derek was so incredibly important to him that he didn’t want to mess it up, and so he had held back so they could just enjoy the experience of dating each other.
But there Derek had been, smiling softly as he tried not to dance to the music he had on as he cleaned the living room, but then failed and ended up dancing silly, singing a little off key to the song, and Stiles had just felt so enamored by his boyfriend that when Derek finished and turned off the music, Stiles had pushed off the wall he had been leaning on and walked toward Derek, who had looked surprised when he saw Stiles, and then smiled widely.
And then Stiles had just blurted it out.
And here they were, having to break apart to get some much needed oxygen into their lungs.
“I had a whole scenario in my head where I said it first,” Derek murmured, resting his forehead against Stiles’ once more, and Stiles grinned.
“You did?”
“Yeah?” Stiles smiled.
“Yeah,” Derek nodded, and after a moment, they moved to erase the foot of space that had still been between them.
Stiles rested his forehead against Derek’s, and he shivered when Derek rubbed his nose against his in a gesture that felt close to an eskimo kiss, but not quite.
Stiles let out a shaky breath. “My heart is beating out of my chest.”
“I can hear it,” Derek smiled, and Stiles let out a shaky laugh, his hands coming up to rest on Derek’s shoulders as Derek wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist. “Mine’s beating crazily too.”
Stiles huffed, a big smile on his face as he whispered, “can I kiss you?”
“Of course,” Derek whispered, and then Stiles bridged the space between them and kissed him softly on the lips, and the kiss was as comfortably familiar as it was shockingly surprising. Stiles knew the touch and taste and texture of Derek’s lips, but the zing in his blood always shocked him and made him inhale sharply, his already rapid heartbeat speeding up as Derek deepened the kiss.
Their bodies plastered together, arms around each other, they got lost in their kisses, in each other.
They had been together almost a year, but they hadn’t said “I love you” to each other until then, and it had been a long time coming, truly. Stiles knew he had been in love with Derek before they had even gotten together, but he had waited to confess because it had felt a little too soon to declare his everlasting love after a week of dating.
He had also been scared of Derek not returning his love, and just the thought alone of Derek saying “thank you” in response or “I don’t love you” to his declaration of love had been enough to make Stiles to hold back the words whenever he had been on the verge of saying them and take things slow with him.
Derek was so incredibly important to him that he didn’t want to mess it up, and so he had held back so they could just enjoy the experience of dating each other.
But there Derek had been, smiling softly as he tried not to dance to the music he had on as he cleaned the living room, but then failed and ended up dancing silly, singing a little off key to the song, and Stiles had just felt so enamored by his boyfriend that when Derek finished and turned off the music, Stiles had pushed off the wall he had been leaning on and walked toward Derek, who had looked surprised when he saw Stiles, and then smiled widely.
And then Stiles had just blurted it out.
And here they were, having to break apart to get some much needed oxygen into their lungs.
“I had a whole scenario in my head where I said it first,” Derek murmured, resting his forehead against Stiles’ once more, and Stiles grinned.
“You did?”
Merry Christmas @watsonofabitch!
I hope you enjoy this 😀
Bad Santa
“Wait, what?” Stiles sputters, spitting Cheetos everywhere. He twists round to stare at Scott, the episode of Brooklyn 99 they’re watching forgotten.
“Secret Santa.”
Stiles gapes. “Seriously?”
Scott shrugs, “I thought it would be nice.”
“Nice.”
“Y’know, promote pack bonding or whatever.”
“And you couldn’t have mentioned this earlier?”
“I sent a text,” Scott’s face falls. “Oh, wait, I sent it a couple of weeks back, around the time your phone was broken.”
“Oh my god, Scott. When I didn’t get back to you, you could have e-mailed me. Or skyped. Or written me a letter or something.”
“There were giants, man. Actual giants. I was distracted.” Stiles rolls his eyes, and Scott sighs. “I honestly thought you knew. I didn’t make the connection between the lack of reply and the broken phone until just now.”
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