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Time Travel

A Second Chance by SlytherinDiplomat

When one clawed finger sinks deep into Stiles' skin, he does his best not to scream out in agony. He manages to only allow a pained whimper to escape his pale, chapped lips. The pain is hot and raw, but he knows that if he lets himself scream, it could tip off whatever is hunting them. So, he grinds his teeth, and he lets Derek carve into him like he is a human etch-a-sketch. A fix-it fic of sorts.

Across the Lake (Tarsainn an Locha) by Renmackree

On a backpacking trip through Scotland to celebrate college graduation, Stiles stumbles on a village shrouded in fog and mystery where the people dress and behave as if they are living four hundred years in the past… “Ye’re actually…” His voice was lighter than expected, but the brogue sent a shiver over Stiles’ spine as he spoke. “Ye’re here.” The man’s face was a mask of surprise, like he knew exactly who Stiles was and hadn’t expected to see him today– but Stiles didn’t know who he was. Had they met in a different town before? “Here I am, what are your other two wishes?” Stiles winked at the man, his voice just a bit flirtatious. “I like your kilt.”

This is so late, but here are some

Make It official by LadyDrace

Peter is being creepy, Derek is being scary and Stiles is dying to know what's going on. Same as always, pretty much.

A Grumpy Alpha at a Wedding by justanotherbusyfangirl

When Stiles needs a date for Erica and Boyd’s wedding to prevent inter-pack drama, Peter offers. Peter isn’t who Stiles wants to go with, but he’ll make the best of the situation - until a certain grumpy Alpha demands all of his attention.

whatever you claim by allourheroes

Stiles had seen Peter's pull over Scott, but the full moon is coming and he knows he needs an alpha. Despite what Scott may think, going to Derek seems like his best option.

I need you all to imagine, just imagine… Like I know Derek and his wolf is assumed to be one and the same. Like he’s born wolf so there’s no actual disconnect but I need you to open your mind to the possibility that they don’t share the same conscience.

Instead of Derek’s wolf being a natural part of Derek I need Derek’s wolf to be more of a symbiotie. I need Venom-esque Wolf inside Derek.

I need a sassy, grumpy alpha wolf being the loud and grating voice inside human Derek who is 1000% obsessed with Stiles. I need Derek to struggle to keep this annoying as fuck, blunt and uncaring creature stuffed away. The poor man struggling every time Stiles shows up and his wolf whining pathetically trying to get to him. To please him, to protect him, to take him as his mate.

And Derek is attracted to Stiles okay. He is but he’s also aware Stiles is younger and human and he actually really likes Noah—especially since he works as his deputy now— There’s a laundry list of reasons why dating Stiles is a bad idea but his wolf couldn’t give a flying fuck. He’s constantly complaining to Derek in his head. Fighting for control because “Stupid human! He’s mate. He smells like mate. He looks like mate. Must house and feed and play with mate! Look, he’s sad! Lick him!” And Derek has to physically restrain himself from running over to Stiles and running his tongue over him.

Venom-Wolf Derek picking the most inopportune moments to show up. One minute Derek is chastising Stiles for going out at night alone and the next Wolf Derek is nuzzling into his neck and nipping his ear.

Stiles being the gremlin he is and knowing Wolf Derek is in love with him. 100% pushing human Derek to the limit because he knows wolf Derek will literally praise him for murder.

Wolf Derek making human Derek do the most unhinged things for humans but normal things for wolves. Leaving an entire elk on Stiles doorstep. Making dens out of pillows and blankets and clothing. Roaring at a poor lady who grabbed Stiles arm to ask for directions. Randomly licking Stiles when they’re standing in front of the police squad because he suddenly needs to mark his mate. And “Yes he is mate! Stop telling everyone he isn’t ours!” And Derek appearing to be having arguments with himself every now and again.

Im rereading Yes to Heaven because.

And.

I love Derek being absolutely unhinged in the face of Stiles' existence. Stiles is just existing and Derek feels like he's never taken a breath in his entire life and only *now* does he truly feel like he's breathing and living.

And I'm just thinking about spoilt Stiles. Stiles who already has a new drink on his table just as he takes the last sip from his current one because Derek. Stiles who has a napkin in his hand before he needs to look for one because Derek. Stiles who somehow always gets his favourite seat/table at his favourite diner/restaurant/cafe no matter how busy it is because Derek.

Just random thoughts I had reading and thought I'd share

Have a good evening (day?)

Everybody, it's time for a Yes To Heaven reread... Derek has never been more obsessed with Stiles, his perfect doll that can do no wrong

SPOILT STILES!!! BELOVED SWEET THING!!!

Pillow princess Stiles, passenger princess Stiles, Stiles who would stand in front of the big puddle and just wait until Derek carries him over, Stiles who patiently waits until Derek opens a door for him

All because he knows it brings Derek calm. Sowmthing deep inside the wolf settles when he takes care of his mate, when he's in charge of it. Derek feels wanted, and he feels needed - a survival kind of necessity, the one Stiles could not function without. Stiles needs him to be here, all of him and that blood on his hands, too.

It's their dynamic and it works perfectly for them bc how much it is about give and take even though it seems that Stiles only takes. No, Stiles has given every bit of himself to Derek, body and soul, to take care of

Of course Derek is gonna spoil him

It started as most things in Derek Hale’s life had lately, with a simple, irritated thought.

He should really shut the hell up.

Stiles had been talking for nine minutes straight. Derek knew, because he’d been counting. Not consciously at first, but somewhere around minute three, something inside him began to twist.

He braced himself against the kitchen counter, fingers gripping the edge, his lips pressing into a hard line as he stared at the way Stiles’ mouth moved like it didn’t know how to stop.

Stiles wasn’t making sense anymore; his words tumbled faster and louder, piling into a frantic rush.

Half of it was sarcasm, the rest wild theories thrown out just to fill the air. It was like he was building something out of noise alone—layer after layer of nonsense—as if talking enough would keep everything else from caving in.

Derek could have made him stop.

He imagined pushing Stiles back, his hand locking at the nape of his neck, feeling the skin warm and tense under his palm. He could almost feel the slight hitch in Stiles’ breath as he stumbled, just enough to throw him off balance. Derek would growl, the sound thick in the air, sinking straight into his spine.

The thought kept repeating, over and over, threading deeper into him every time Stiles threw out another word. Another smartass jab. Another deflection disguised as brilliance.

That mouth. That fucking mouth.

Derek’s wolf stirred, restless under his skin. Not out of anger—not really. This was something darker. He wanted to command him. Pin him. He wanted to see that mouth go slack with submission. Wanted the silence that came not from fear, but from surrender.

Something thick coiled in Derek’s chest, tension winding tighter with every second. He drew a shallow breath through his nose, though it barely felt like air.

Stiles’ scent hit him hard, sharp with adrenaline and tinged with nervous energy, always carrying that constant, subtle edge of arousal that never faded.

The human spun around, hands gesturing wildly, frustration rising in his voice as his eyes darted around the room. “I mean, it’s not like anyone ever listens to me anyway,” he said, unaware of the weight behind Derek’s silence.

“But this time, I have actual logic on my side. Not that logic matters when you have werewolf instincts and, like, alpha growly brain or whatever. Which, by the way, is so not helpful when I’m trying to have a conversation like a normal person. But no, it’s always—‘Stiles, shut up,’ or ‘Stiles, stay in the car,’ or—”

Derek cut him off, snapping, “Do you ever shut up?” His eyes flared bright red, fierce and blazing in the dim light.

Stiles flinched, surprise flickering in his amber eyes. His scent grew stronger, carrying a heat that filled the space between them, impossible to ignore. Derek could hear his heartbeat spike, a frantic rhythm that hammered against his ribs.

“Um, rude. You were clearly one of the people I was talking about.”

Stiles crossed his arms, not backing down in the slightest. His mouth pressed into a stubborn line, but his eyes were bright with challenge, daring Derek to say something else. He tipped his chin up, jaw set at that smug angle he wore like armor—as if he knew exactly how unbearable he could be and leaned into it anyway.

It made Derek want to bite him. Or kiss him breathless. Maybe tear him apart completely.

“But hey,” Stiles continued, mock innocence curling his words, “if you wanted me quiet, you could’ve just kissed me. Worked for some people in high school.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed.

Silence fell instantly. He didn’t move or blink—just stared, unreadable and intense, like he was seeing through the joke, through the bravado, straight into the pulse flickering beneath Stiles’ skin.

Stiles shifted, his smirk faltering. He licked his lips, suddenly unsure, and the tilt of his head softened—no longer defiant, just vulnerable.

“I—I was joking,” he stammered, his confidence slipping away. “Obviously.”

Derek didn’t want to joke. He didn’t want to trade snark or keep pretending this was anything less than what it was.

He wanted Stiles to shut up.

Not to be fully silent. No, he still wanted to hear him. He wanted the catch of breath that came when words ran dry. The desperate, shaky moans that tore from deep inside Stiles’ chest when Derek’s hands clenched onto hips and pulled him close, teeth grazing the curve of his jaw.

But the talking? The endless stream of sarcasm and deflection, the way Stiles built walls out of noise just to keep people from getting too close?

Derek wanted that to stop.

He wanted to take him apart until there was nothing left to say.

Stiles’ tongue darted out, wetting his lips in a quick, anxious gesture. “Say something, dude. You’re making me nervous.”

Derek’s claws itched beneath his skin, a low burn crawling up his arms as the wolf surged just under the surface—wild, hungry, and done waiting.

His pulse drummed heavy in his ears, and when he stepped forward, it was with the slow precision of a predator that already knew it had won, every movement deliberate, meant to press the weight of each inch closed between them.

He knew Stiles felt it too—saw it in the hitch of his breath, the quick rise of his chest, the way his pupils went wide with anticipation.

Derek’s hand shot out, rough fingers tangling in Stiles’ thick brown hair, gripping firmly at the crown and yanking his head back. The sharp motion pulled a gasp from Stiles’ lips.

The wolf growled its approval.

Derek didn’t pause. He crowded in close, pushing Stiles’ body until the cold edge of the kitchen counter dug into his back. His hips pressed forward with a force that left no room for doubt, no space to breathe. Nothing but pressure, heat, and the fact he wasn’t letting go now.

Stiles shuddered against him, full-body and uncontrollable. His eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling, and his mouth parted on a soft, broken moan, pulled straight from his throat like he didn’t know how to hold it in.

derek’s never really been talky. but since he pulled argent off stiles, it’s like he can’t stop. 

right now he says, “how long has this been happening?”

and stiles should probably just keep lying about it. what? no, this is a brand new development. i don’t know, he just like, showed up tonight, and started in on me. but it’s not like… we’ve never even, like, interacted before. 

honestly? i think he’s sundowning. 

anything’s better than being a freaking message. like he’s mary jane, or gwen stacy, or just scott’s most punchable freaking weakness, so he better fall in line now, huh? for whatever master plan grandpa creepy’s got cooking. except that back here in reality, scott would never go along with being some hunter’s little werewolf flunky. he’d back out, get in the way, and then the next thing that happens is that scene from every superhero movie, where scott’s like, i can’t be friends with you anymore. you’re human. it’s too dangerous.

and that? that’s not freaking happening. not now, not ever. 

not after a million beatings. 

it’s, you know what? it’s good, actually. thick skin, right? well, stiles’ eyelid sure is thickening. 

but derek doesn’t laugh. his whole face is frozen in like, pure tragedy. and who knew he cared so much, huh? like stiles is his buddy. and not just, like, an annoying scott-adjacent guy he occasionally has to work with, or shield, or save. 

actually, this might’ve been building for a while. 

“it wasn’t just tonight,” derek says, and stiles shrugs, and then winces, because moving is a terrible idea right now.

but derek’s already reaching for the pain. and he’s got painkillers on tap, that’s crazy. stiles has never felt so warm and fuzzy in his life. 

but that’s how they get you, right? that’s how they get you talking. 

“not to turn down free heroin, or anything,” stiles says, “because oh my god, that feels amazing. can all werewolves just do that? how are you not all just junkies?” 

on a couch somewhere, all huddled in a big pack puddle. did one of us have work today? no, not a chance, we’re not moving.  

“what are you talking about?” derek says. like he doesn’t even know. 

“did no one ever do it back to you? that is so sad, dude.” 

it is, really. he reaches for derek immediately. even though… obviously, obviously it’s not the same. 

and derek tenses for a second, very derek-y, but then he breathes out, and breathes out, and breathes.

like it’s doing something. like stiles is the magic-hand guy in this situation. 

but even without the pain-drain, it’s, yeah. it feels good, you know? cozy. and way, way less weird than stiles ever could’ve expected, if he had expectations about this at all. about… derek hale, and cuddling.  

over-intellectualizing. that’s the term for it. how stiles’ mind just keeps going and going, even in sweet moments. so he stays, like, half out of it. distant, and like, observing it. from over himself, or from half a room away. 

but derek’s kind of… breathing harshly, and shaking. 

and every single thought exits stiles’ mind. 

“whoa,” he says. “hey, what just happened? hey, look at me.”

his depth perception is kind of off, because of the whole one-eye-swollen-shut thing, and that only makes derek’s breaths even harsher. he keeps looking at stiles like he’s the most tragic thing in the world. 

“hey, i’m okay,” stiles says, and derek does like a shudder-gasp combo-type thing, and… yeah, this is officially serious. “i know, i know that it looks bad, maybe… especially next to, like, instantaneous werewolf healing. but i’m gonna be fine, i swear. thanks to you, you know? how did you even find me?” 

questions can be good distractions. it’s like, mind-clearing. just having that one thing to think about, and focus on. 

derek takes a long breath, lets it out. “i don’t know. i just, thought—something felt wrong.”

“your wolf-senses were tingling,” stiles says, and derek looks at him, half-exasperated back to normal. 

but only halfway. the rest is still, like, crushingly sincere. 

“something like that,” he says. “something like—my pack was in danger.” 

“i’m your pack?” stiles says, instead of an even slightly cooler reaction, like, oh, what, you care about me? what a distantly interesting piece of trivia i don’t feel any particular way about! and what’s that, you think i’m also very attractive? yeah, well, that makes sense. probably… my like, strong masculine energy. 

something like that. but no, it’s too heartwarming.

but he tries, at least.

“since when am i your pack? or in your pack, i guess. which is the better way to say that, by the way? like… the more accurate one, grammatically.”

the good ol’ familiar flat look is coming back to derek’s face. “either one is fine. and—i don’t know if pack is the right word.”

“family,” stiles offers, but… that feels a little incesty. in his mind, at least. “uh… close social circle.” 

close might be overstating things. if not for what happened tonight. 

what’s still happening. 

“the word doesn’t matter,” derek says. “i just—felt something, and i knew…”

his face is way too sincere again. way too, like… 

“i just had to find you,” derek says. “and stop it. whatever it was.”

werewolf guardian angel, stiles doesn’t let himself say. 

it’d be so easy to completely kill the moment. 

but this is… derek hale, caring about him. caring so much, half his mind is already playing it down, and spiraling. 

nice try. i know a practical joke when i see one. 

but the truth is… yeah, he does. and this isn’t even close to that. 

no, if anything, this is like, terrifyingly sincere. 

“it’s been over, like, the past five months,” he says. “since the whole… master plan thing, you know? that was kind of his first go at it.”

“his first one,” derek says, and stiles says, “yeah, he didn’t like… that his big message never made it to scott, that time.” 

and, you know, what’s the natural conclusion? just keep, like, upping the ante. scott’s bound to smell the blood on him eventually, right? if stiles wasn’t in, like, such a cologne phase. 

actually, no wonder derek found him this time. he’s never been more heavily scented in his whole life. he’s giving himself headaches. 

if that’s not the like, recurring battery. 

“why didn’t you tell someone?” derek says, and stiles looks at him. “not scott. your dad. somebody.” 

“you?” stiles says, and derek says, “if you had told me about it, the first time? i would’ve stopped it five months ago.” 

stiles shrugs, and regrets moving pretty much instantly. and just like that, derek’s back with the heroin hands. “i guess… i didn’t know we were close like that.”

“that shouldn’t matter,” derek says. “you’re human. you shouldn’t even be involved.”

well, that kills the warm fuzzies immediately. “yeah? well guess what, i am. because scott’s my pack, okay? and always will be. you think i give a single crap if he’s a werewolf? the world’s most agile geriatric’s been trying to get between us for five months, and it’s still just as not freaking happening. what do you think you’re gonna do?” 

he’s shaking, by the end of that, breathing hard. and it’s not, it’s just too bad. 

he’s in it. it doesn’t matter what keeps happening. or that he’s human, and you know what? they need a human. 

who’s the only one who can break them out of mountain ash? very much still stiles! and there’s more, he’s been researching.

he’s saved derek’s life a few times. 

he’s not just some easily-panicked punching bag. and even if he is, he’s not going anywhere. his dad’s still here, he’s human. and he doesn’t even know what’s been happening. 

it’s not like opting out was ever actually an option. not if you have people you still need to see survive. 

but derek says, “that’s not what i… of course you’re a part of it. i’m not saying you’re not…”

but he is. that’s exactly what he’s freaking saying. 

“i’m just saying, i would’ve helped with it,” derek says. “if i knew that was happening to you? that an argent—”

and, right. yeah. more argent-based bloodshed, of course derek’s re-traumatized.

“i’m okay,” stiles says, again, and derek takes one look at his messed-up eye and goes all tragic-faced again. “i’m, whatever. yeah, we can team up, no problem. stiles and derek versus the… evil feral grandpa.”

he maybe gets a fraction of a smile, for that. a cheek twitch, a glimmer in his eye. 

“but it’s not gonna be like, you go in and get bloodied while i wait in the car,” stiles says. “i’m, i’ve kind of been stockpiling stuff. there’s a baseball bat, first of all.”

he might’ve tried that on grandpa geezer if he wasn’t half-sure it’d just kill him. and then he’d have to explain, like, first-degree murder. elder abuse.

have i mentioned he’s a werewolf hunter? yeah, he hunts werewolves. but he also likes punching me! kind of on the side. 

oh, show you a werewolf right now? nope, no can do. they’re all in, like, werewolf witness protection.

they’ll all be in college in a few months anyway. it’s not like argent’s gonna follow them out of state, right? right. probably.

yeah, he’ll be fine. 

“you should sign up as like a TA, or something,” he tells derek. “english degree, right? and then you’ll be like, local. if there’s… somethin’ weird, in the neighborhood. we won’t even have to call, you’ll just be there.” 

it would be too weird, not seeing him. all fifty shades of grumpiness. 

“you want me to… apply for a job at your college,” derek says. and is that way too much to ask? maybe it is. 

“i just think, like, i’m too used to seeing your face, you know?” stiles says. “and we like, just teamed up officially, no, this is happening. i don’t know if you’ve realized this, but i don’t really have the easiest time letting go of people i care about.” 

the i care about part just slips out with the rest of it. to be fair, they’ve been in and out of cuddling for like an hour. 

plus, derek sort of just saved his life. for like, the… he doesn’t even know what time. 

so yeah. stiles cares, isn’t that a surprise? what an earth-shattering secret he’s been hiding, so successfully. 

derek’s just, like, looking at him. and looking, and looking. 

“yeah, you too, big guy,” stiles says, and derek shudders. “c’mere, c’mon. if i can see your face, you’re clearly not wedged in close enough.” 

there’s bound to be like, one open TA position. or one who deserves to be dismissed, once his life’s a been a little more looked-through. 

or like, a local coffee shop. or a bakery, or a library. 

or maybe derek could just, like, enroll. and dorm with scott and him. that’d be too funny. 

as long as he doesn’t stay here, and bleed out with none of them around. 

“english tutor,” he says, a little muzzily. derek’s been doing his thing, stiles is nice and painless. any nurse who crashes this cuddling session is gonna be… very confused. “yeah. i need an english tutor, you know, i’m struggling.”

“it’s your best subject,” derek says. “clearly.” 

ugh, fine. “i guess you’ll just have to just have to teach me something else, then.”

werewolf history, maybe. all the obscure-est trivia.

“most obscure,” derek says. “maybe you do need some help with english.”

but this time, derek finds them, and stops it. 

it hurts stiles to breathe. and derek doesn’t think.

he just puts an arm around him. 

“hey, it’s okay,” he says. “it’s okay. i’ve got you.” 

like that means anything, like he’s anyone remotely comforting, but stiles breathes out shakily, and nods, and swipes at his eyes.

he’s still badly hurt, wincing. barely able to hide it anymore.

“hospital,” derek says. “right now.”

but he pulls stiles’ pain as much as possible as he drives.

stiles sits up straighter once they get closer to the hospital. tries to fix his face more casual.

it makes sense. they’re not—and stiles doesn’t need scott’s mom seeing them, and assuming something. telling stiles’ dad, you’ll never believe who brought stiles in for treatment. 

and that’s if she doesn’t just assume that derek did this. that he’s just staying here to silence him. 

“what does argent even want with you?” derek says. “you’re human.” 

stiles’ cheek is still swelling. his eyelid is almost sealed shut. 

and argent’s gonna be sorry. he’s gonna be. when derek finally hunts his family. hurts everyone he cares about.

let him know how it feels for once. just once, let him be the one watching his whole life burn. and know, deep down, that he’s the reason that it happened. the real reason, for all of it. not a hunter, not scott—

derek bites his tongue to keep his wolf from keening.

they won’t let derek stay in the room while they treat him. time moves in slow motion for a while. 

stiles is quiet, and shaky, but he’s breathing easier. and he relaxes when he sees derek in the door.

“you’re still here?”

“i didn’t leave,” derek says, and stiles shudders. “i won’t.”

he’s never been more sure of anything. 

“why not?” stiles says. “it’s kind of over, you know? the whole big… hero showdown moment. the bad guy’s been beaten, you know? or at least beaten back for a while. so, yeah. you should go, like, celebrate.” 

derek looks at him, and stiles says, “i’m not suddenly your problem, okay? just because i like, got hit in front of you, or whatever’s putting that look on your face, i’m fine. you don’t have to, like, stick around just to make, just to make sure i...”

but he covers his eyes, and derek’s staying. he’s staying. 

in the hospital gown, there are even more visible bruises. and the old ones look worse than before. 

but that’s a part of healing. it has to be. 

“do you want me to call someone?” derek says.“like… scott, or your dad.”

stiles scrubs at his eye, and derek’s almost sorry he said anything. 

“i’m still gonna be here,” he says. “even if... scott comes by, or something.” 

stiles’ eyes flicker over his face.

the bruise on his cheek is turning awful colors. there’s too much fire in derek’s throat. 

it feels insane to ever let go of him. but he has to, eventually. when a nurse comes by, when he’s in the way again.

but he moves in close as soon as he can. and this time, stiles' arms lock around him.

his breaths catch, for a while.

it feels wrong ever not being this close to him. not taking as much pain as he can. not keeping his hand there, even once stiles' heart settles, and his breaths go easy.

slow, and steady.

and maybe that should be weird. or is weird. maybe, maybe.

Stiles: *Manages to free himself every time*

Agent McCall: *locks Stiles in a holding cell in an attempt to intimidate him*

Sheriff Stilinski: So I'll see you at home in an hour?

Stiles: Ten minutes tops. I usually only take longer so I don't make the deputies feel bad

Their first time at Eichen house (while I’m not thrilled it happened because they were both not in the headspace for it) he was so soft with her. Asking for consent? (Not that either could honestly give it) After care? Cuddles and Soft touches? And later on after their relationship has been established when she’s lying on his bed and telling him about her highlighter colors and the adoring look he gives her!? How gently he holds her when she gets sick in the vault? Laying his jacket over her, brushing her hair back….

And even when he’s with Heather. Him being responsible and telling her he doesn’t have protection. Letting her guide him. Giving her any opportunity in the conversation as a way out in case this isn’t what he thinks it is. Her flirty “you know what I want?” And his nervous “a bike?” 

With Caitlyn when he realizes he has to leave the party at the loft and he’s freaking out a little bit. He’s so worried about leaving her when she’s  been drinking so he takes her a water bottle and makes her promise to drink it. “I have to go but I didn’t want to offend you…You drink that. The whole thing. The whole thing, okay?” 

When Lydia is lying on the exam table after escaping Eichen house and he uses his body to shield her. His frantic but gentle hands brushing the glass off her face? When they’re at school and the birds break the glass and he immediately sails over to protect her?

The man just instinctually goes soft and protective for his S/O and I think it’d be the same for Derek. Like he’s literally pressed against the wall, standing between Derek’s arms.  the 200lb 6 foot alpha werewolf and Derek’s brain almost combusts when Stiles reaches up to cup his face after they pull away from their first kiss and the comparatively smaller and far more fragile man looks at him so sincerely and flushed up to his ears and he mumbles a little “This okay?” 

Derek’s wolf fucking looses it. Derek fucking looses it. Butterflies x10. His face turns bright red and he has to hide it in Stiles’ shoulder as Stiles slowly cards his fingers through his hair. “You okay Big Guy? W-We can stop-” 

“Shut up.” He growls out in embarrassment. Because what the fuck? How is the scrawny little human making him blush right now? But Stiles doesn’t tease him, just looks at him fondly and Derek waits for the snarky and lewd comments. Waits for Stiles to scoff and pull him in for another needy kiss but he’s not ready —so fucking not ready— for Stiles to slot their fingers together and bring his knuckles up to brush his lips against them while keeping eye contact because “I’ve always loved your eyes Der…” and holy shit. Derek is doomed. So fucking doomed. 

And Stiles isn’t suave, okay? He doesn’t really mean for it to work. He’s not trying to flirt. It’s literally just honest stammers and grumbles and he’s ten types of shy and nervous but it’s just instinct. It’s just, “I care about this person and I don’t care how embarrassing this is for me as long as they’re comfortable.” type thing. Because he feels Derek shaking a little so he takes his hand and it just feels right to kiss it. But he can’t look away from those beautiful green eyes and the question is on the alphas face, wide and open and raw and he just says it. Just really, honestly answers the unasked question of ‘why are you looking at me like that?’ But it comes off as super smooth and Derek was not prepared.

No one has ever been gentle with him. Paige maybe, in the awkward puppy love type way. But not like this. Not as a mutual, mature lover and Derek is equal parts elated and terrified and the hesitation just makes Stiles softer and more protective. “D-Der we don’t have to do this. You… I just want to be with you. We don’t have to…We can just sit down and watch-“