-The King and The Queen-
Derek : “So…”
Stiles : “What?”
Derek : “I’m your king now”
Stiles : “How did you kn…?”
Derek : “Wanna be my queen?”
Stiles : “///////////”
Derek : “:)”
me : “i just wanna see they do fluffy, adorable, cutie pie, cuddle, hug, kiss, making out, coming out, whatever it is and watch Derek’s sun bright smile like Hoechlin when he with Stiles at the end of this chaos season. dammit i just wanna STEREK so badly”
Tag: otp
If this is torture…
“Can you do me a favor?”
Derek so did not like when Stiles
tried to use puppy eyes on him. Everyone knew that Scott was better at
it. Scott looked adorable, Stiles looked-Puppy eyes shouldn’t look like that! They shouldn’t make Derek wanna push him onto his knees, this was so wrong.
“Fine,
what is it?”, he sighed. Anything would be better than looking into
those wide doe eyes. They looked like melted chocolate in this light and
Derek really should focus on something else.“Do you remember Mary?”, Stiles asked, his eyes still pleading, but not that wide anymore.
“That girl from your chem class? Yeah, why?”
Stiles shuffled with his feet a bit, looking onto the ground. “She asked me out.”
“Okay?” Derek frowned, not getting how this was bad. Stiles was always complaining that he wasn’t getting any after all.
“And
I couldn’t just say no, okay? She is such a sweetheart, so I tried to
let her down easily, but she just wouldn’t get it and then I blurted out
that I was gay. And she laughed, which, seriously? Rude. I could
totally be gay. I mean I am kinda gay, bisexual actually. Anyways”,
Stiles trailed off, laughing nervously. “I kinda told her that I have
boyfriend. So I need you to fake date me. Please?”Derek blinked
once. Twice. Tried to process all that information. Blinked again.
Stiles was still staring up at him, biting his lip and it was so goddamn
distracting.
CAN’T KEEP MY HANDS TO MYSELF
I want you all to myself, you’re metaphorical gin and juice.
So i’m not saying that the reason Derek decided to let his chest hair grow was because he started dating Stiles and Stiles found out he waxed and was like ‘wtf man first of all pls stop with the pain as an anchor thing it’s very sad but also I really love your chest hair I think it’s so sexy and obviously it’s your choice but it’d be very hot if you decided to let it grow’ and so Derek blushed and threw away the wax… That’s not what I’m saying at all…
I feel so bad about letting so many beautiful things like this pile up in my inbox over the past 6 months. Guys, I am really, so so sorry. If you have sent me something I promise I’m getting there! Also eeeeeeeeeeeep. I love this, nonnie!
“Stop.”
Derek turns around, watches as Stiles practically falls into bathroom.
“What are you doing?” he gasps.
Derek frowns. “Waxing my chest? What are are you doing?”
“Stopping you. You’re hairy. I didn’t know- jesus.”
Derek feels himself blush, does his best to cover it up by raising his eyebrows. For whatever reason, that always seems to distract Stiles. “I am aware of that,” he says. “That’s why I wax.”
Stiles’ mouth falls open and Derek tries not to get distracted by it. It’s been harder to ignore his feelings towards Stiles lately, especially now that he’s eighteen. Hypothetically, Derek could make a move. Hypothetically.
“Derek, I swear to god, if you do not put that pot of wax down right now I am going to cry.”
“Why?” Derek asks, confused now. “You wanna do it? Practising to become a beautician or something?”
Stiles narrows his eyes, but quickly averts them. “No,” he whispers. “I just…” he mumbles something too low for even Derek to catch.
“What?”
Stiles looks up at him and Derek doesn’t know why, but a rush of heat courses through him, settling in places he really doesn’t want Stiles to know about.
“Ihaveahairkinkokay?” he groans, throwing his hands up in the air. “Happy now?”
“What’s that got to me with me?”
Stiles’ eyes widen. “Oh, for the love of-” and then he’s striding forward and pushing Derek back against the sink, kissing him deeply.
“Wha-” oh. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” Stiles smiles, taking the pot of wax from him, putting it to one side. “Let’s stop pretending we don’t want this, us, shall we?”
Derek nods dumbly, heart pounding.
“Now,” Stiles smirks, although Derek can smells his nerves, “if you don’t mind, I would really like to explore just how much hair you have before you wax it all off. Please, if that would be, uh, okay with you.”
Derek grins, burying his face in Stiles’ neck, breathing in. “More than okay.”
~
(Spoiler: He never waxes again. Not with the way Stiles looks at him.)
If you’re still doing prompts, “finally”. Really enjoy your writing; congrats on the followers!
SO
THREEFOUR MONTHS LATER, have some PWP! Semi-related to @mad-madam-m and @pale-silver-comb‘s ongoing saga of Derek Hale being rimmed into self-acceptance, but with added BDSM ❤
Where it goes wrong is the point where Derek says Stiles’ name.
He’s so fucking close to coming, all wound up and sensitive, thighs literally trembling under Stiles’ broad hands as his boyfriend does that one thing with his tongue, lathing the tender underside of Derek’s cock while he sucks him down. He’s so close to coming, a heartbeat away from it.
Only he says Stiles’ name, whimpering the syllable like a benediction. He can’t help but make the sound even though he knows he shouldn’t, and that’s it: Stiles’ mouth is gone instantly, his hands too, every source of friction, pleasure, potential release.
Not that Derek couldn’t still come. He’s on edge enough he doesn’t need to be touched, he could give himself over to that shuddering completion so easily. But…
“No,” Stiles says, all sharp authority.
Derek forces himself to obey almost on instinct and then the chance is lost. He’s painfully hard, arching wantonly despite himself, twisting on the sheets, begging for it with his body as well as his voice – Stiles, come on, please, please Stiles, let me, so good, please. He’s not sure he’d be able to resist the urge to reach down and bring himself off, fast and rough, except that his hands are tied above his head. It wouldn’t be that much of a deterrent in itself – just simple rope to their headboard, nothing werewolf resistant.
He’s perfectly aware, though, that Stiles would make him regret it.
The first time Stiles (and Scott and Liam and Malia…the Sheriff, Melissa – basically everyone who was not outside the church in Mexico) saw Derek perform his full shift, evolved form magic mojo, Stiles felt something in his soul splinter.
It wasn’t a bad feeling necessarily, but it sort of hit him all at once. The feelings he had for Derek, the hope and anxiety and fear for him. The exasperation and annoyance and anger.
All of the feelings he’d ever felt for this complicated man expanded and popped like a bubble and left him feeling a little bereft and a lot like he’d missed his chance for something even as his heart swelled with joy for Derek. For finding this thing inside him. For connecting to that piece of his past and bringing it into his present.
He was… not healed. You can’t heal from the kinds of wounds Derek had experienced, not really. Stiles knew that better than anyone. But he was healthy again.
Sleepy sterek (◡‿◡✿)
Only know you love him when you let him go…
And you let him go.
swallow me down, raw like you mean it by bleep0bleep (E, 8k)
Derek isn’t quite sure what to do, but he can’t look away from the way Stiles’ mouth moves while he talks, and then Stiles’ shirt rides up a little with a particular wild gesture, revealing an expanse of pale skin. The comment I have these in red reverberates in his mind, and now Derek is frozen, imagining the man before him clad in nothing but a pair of lacy red panties.