For the sexting prompt: Derek has Stiles dad under Sherrif in his contacts, which is unfortunately too close to Stiles, and Stiles is just offended he didn't get a cute nickname. Like you've seen my dick and my phone name doesn't even have a heart near it
Thereâs no actual sexting in here but I hope you still like it! (also on ao3!)
Stiles was feeling a little left out.
Erica had Boyd in her phone as Love Of My Life while Boyd had her in his as My Sunshine. Kira had Allison in her phone as My Huntress while Allison had Kira in her phone under Vixen.
Jackson had Danny under Babe while Danny had his boyfriend under Prince Asshole which was extremely fitting. Even Peter and Chris Argent, who had apparently started dating, had cutesy nicknames for each other in their phones.
Stiles himself routinely switched between several nicknames for Derek. The list included, but certainly wasn't limited to, Sourwolf, Alpha, Superman, Der, the Bae, and even just D.
What did Derek have Stiles in his phone as? Something sweet and cute like Honey or Sweetie? Something more suggestive like Sexy or Gorgeous? Maybe something more traditional like Babe or Baby?
No. None of the above. Derek had Stiles in his phone as Stiles.
Derek had always been brusque and to the point, never one to mince words. And usually, Stiles admired that about his boyfriend but not this time.
He knew that it shouldn't bother him so much, that it was stupid and didn't actually mean anything, that he was being completely irrational. He knew that he shouldn't care about it but he did.
He wanted a dumb little nickname like the rest of his friends did. Or just some sort of emoji by his name, something like a little heart emoji or some other stupid little emoticon.
But he didn't. Which offended him a little bit. Derek had seen his dick for fuck's sake and he still didn't have a single heart by his name.
As much as he hated to admit it, it bothered him much more than it should have.
Especially since that meant his name was right next to his dad's in Derek's phone. And that made sexting rather dangerous.
Stiles was just waiting for the day that Derek accidentally sent the Sheriff a suggestive text message. Or god forbid a dick pic.
Feeling like a complete idiot, Stiles never brought it up to Derek. He was too embarrassed to broach the subject, preferring to wallow in his own patheticness. That is until the incident with Derek's phone.
He had been hanging out at the loft, sprawled out on Derek's unbelievably comfy bed as they watched the new season of Game of Thrones, when Derek's phone had rung. With a grunt as he sat up in bed, his clothing rumpled and his hair thoroughly disheveled, and mumbled, "You mind getting that, babe? It's probably Erica."
"Sure," Stiles chirped, rolling over to peck Derek on the lips before pushing himself and twisting to grab Derek's buzzing cell phone off his nightstand. As he turned back to Derek to hand him his phone, he caught a glimpse of the name on the screen, announcing who was calling: Catwoman.
He handed Derek his phone which the alpha immediately answered, standing and padding into the kitchen so he didn't disturb Stiles as he watched his show. The second Derek had his back to Stiles, tattoo visible through the thin cotton of his tank top, the younger man folded his arms over his chest like some sort of petulant child.
Why the hell did Erica get a special nickname on Derek's phone? Why the hell didn't he get a cool superhero's name in place of his own?
Did Derek like Erica better? That would be total bullshit! Stiles gave Derek all kinds of things that Erica didn't like homemade pierogies and orgasms. At least, she better not be giving Derek orgasms.
Derek returned a few minutes later, setting his phone down on the other nightstand before climbing into bed beside Stiles who was still pouting. Frowning down at his boyfriend, he asked, "What's wrong, babe?"
"Nothing," Stiles dismissed, his voice coming out harsher than he intended. Wincing, he shifted uncomfortably and murmured, "It's stupid. Just forget about it."
"Babe, c'mon," Derek pressed, curling an arm around the back of Stiles' waist. Leaning closer, he set his chin down on Stiles' shoulder, mumbling, "Talk to me."
"Do you like Erica better than me?" Stiles blurted, immediately wanting to smack himself in the face once the words left his mouth. God, he was an idiot! An irrational, jealous idiot who jumped to conclusions and got pissed at his boyfriend for no reason.
"Um, no..." Derek answered warily, Stiles feeling the motion of his jaw on his shoulder. He squeezed Stiles' hips, running his thumb over the jut of his hip bone. His confusion was audible as he questioned, "Why do you ask? Erica still trying to figure out who my favorite beta is?"
"No, I'm pretty sure she's already figured out you love 'em all the same," Stiles replied immediately, his voice full as he frowned down at his lap. Anger bubbling up again, he hissed, "But why does she have a cute name in your phone and I don't? I mean, we've been dating for six months and I don't even have a heart by my name, dude."
Derek was quiet for a few moments, as though mulling over his next words. Stiles tensed, waiting for Derek to rightfully accuse him of being a stupid, jealous idiot.
Oh god, he should have kept his big mouth shut for once. He was going to ruin everything he and Derek had over emojis.
But before he could squeak out an apology and beg for Derek's forgiveness, try to explain that he wasn't really that jealous of a person even though he kind of was, Derek pressed a kiss to his cheek. Huffing a deep laugh, Derek murmured against the mole dotted expanse of Stiles' cheek, "You're adorable."
Stiles whirled around to gape at Derek but the werewolf was busy grabbing his cell phone off his nightstand. He tapped on the screen a few times, clearly typing something, as Stiles stared incredulously at his back.
"How's this?" Derek ventured as he twisted back around to face Stiles, a blindingly bright smile on his face. He was holding his phone up so Stiles could read what he had written, the edit he had done to Stiles' contact information.
"Moon of My Life," Stiles read aloud, voice hushed by awe and disbelief. He flicked his eyes up to meet Derek's, incredulity etched into his features.
In a burst of movement, Stiles launched himself at Derek, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's neck and hopping into his lap. He kissed Derek until they were both breathless, afterwards peppering light kisses over Derek's forehead and cheeks.
"You're such a dork," Stiles accused fondly between kisses, smiling so widely his cheeks hurt. Pressing one last kiss to the tip of Derek's nose, he proudly announced, "You didn't have to do that. I was just being an idiot."
"I know," Derek responded, reaching up to run his fingers through Stiles' hair. "But like you said, we've been together for six months, and you deserve more than just one heart by your name."
"I love you," Stiles breathed contentedly, resting his forehead against Derek's. Brushing a thumb over Derek's cheek, dark stubble rasping against the pad of his finger, "How bout we try for another six months, at least?"
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For the fall prompt thingy!! Sterek and apple picking please omg i need it Amber đđđđ
SO ITâS BEEN MONTHS AND NOW ITâS SUMMER BUT I FINISHED IT (also on ao3!)
Stiles never would have thought apple picking, of all things, was romantic. Then again, he never would have thought Derek 'Angry Eyebrows' Hale was romantic, either. And on both counts he was wrong.
Ever since they'd started dating--having gotten together the summer before senior year after Stiles had come dangerously close to dying from the aftereffects of having been possessed by the Nogitsune, Derek not wanting to risk never being able to love Stiles the way he wanted to, open for the world to see--Derek had absolutely blown him away with how affectionate and downright romantic he could be. Not a day went by without Derek performing some sort of grand romantic gesture.
On their first date, Derek had surprised him with a bouquet of deep red roses, despite the fact that they were only going to dinner at the local diner that served Stiles' favorite curly fries. They held hands throughout their meal, Stiles somehow managing to eat a greasy, bacon loaded double cheeseburger one-handed, playing footsie under the table like the dorks they both unabashedly were.
It had started raining by the time they finished dessert, sharing a milkshake like it was the nineteen fifties, Stiles teasing Derek about looking the part of the bad boy greaser in his leather jacket. As they fled to the Camaro, hoping for a reprieve from the heavy rain, Derek used his jacket as a makeshift umbrella, holding it above their heads to shield them from getting pelted by the cold rain.
Once they'd climbed into the Camaro, Derek draping his jacket over Stiles as he unlocked the doors and jogged around the front of the car to climb into the driver's seat, they'd luxuriated in the Camaro's heated seats as they laughed about their luck and poor timing, going on their first date the only time it rained that month. Stiles had made a comment about rain on a first date being a sign of good luck, Derek arguing that it was only wedding days that were lucky if rained on, sparking an intriguing conversation about various good luck signs as Derek drove Stiles home.
Stiles had kissed him on the front porch after Derek walked him to the door until his dad started flicking the porch light on and off. Stiles had smiled like an idiot when Derek insisted he hold on to his leather jacket for a little while, laying a kiss on Derek's cheek for the sweet gesture. He'd put the roses in a vase and set them on his nightstand after Derek left, stealing glances at the beautiful bouquet for the next two weeks, breaking into a blinding grin whenever he did.
On their second date, a double feature at the local movie theater across town, Stiles had attempted to return Derek's jacket, slipping it off his shoulders when Derek pulled up in front of his house, only for Derek to insist that he keep it, at least for just a little bit longer. Stiles had proudly strut over to the Camaro, chin held high as slid into the passenger seat still wearing the leather jacket despite the midday heat, slipping his hand into Derek's as they pulled onto the road.
They'd sat in the back of the darkened theater, Derek leading Stiles to their seats, his werewolf night vision guiding him through the crowded theater, the location of the seats prompting many innuendos and eyebrow waggles from a jokingly scandalized Stiles. He'd only stopped teasing Derek about his choice of seating when Derek had grabbed the front of his Star Wars t-shirt and pulled him into a deep kiss as the opening credits rolled.
They'd spent the rest of the double feature holding hands as they shared a tub of popcorn and a box of Reeses Pieces, occasionally feeding each other the peanut butter candies before leaning in to kiss the butter from the popcorn off each other's lips afterwards. They both blissfully ignored the appalled, genuinely scandalized looks they received, mostly from the elderly couples in attendance, due to their blatant public displays of affection, Derek assuring Stiles that he had no reason to be embarrassed or shy, casually throwing his arm around Stiles' shoulders and kissing his temple.
A few hours later they left the theater with Derek's arm still around Stiles' shoulders, smiles proudly plastered on both their faces.
Their third date consisted of a nice dinner in at loft, giving Derek an opportunity to flex his culinary muscles, thoroughly impressing Stiles with a three course meal â an appetizer of potato skins followed by an entree of filet mignon before a dessert of various fruits dipped in chocolate and caramel sauces. They ate on the couch, the informal seating belying the sophistication of the meal, cuddling as they took Boyd's suggestion to heart and watched Luke Cage on Netflix.
They watched Mike Colter kick ass on screen, Stiles making an offhand comment about how hot he was, Derek huffing and crossing his arms over his chest in faux jealousy until Stiles peppered kisses over his cheeks. Whenever there was a lull in action on the TV screen they took advantage of the opportunity to lick the sticky sweetness of chocolate and caramel off each other's lips, hands tenderly stroking each other's faces, fingers brushing through each other's hair.
On Stiles' eighteenth birthday they had sex for the first time.
Derek made love to him so gently and so sweetly, holding him and touching him and kissing him like he was something to be cherished, something to be treasured and protected and loved, that Stiles had buried his face in the crook of Derek's neck and cried. Derek had held him for the rest of the night, rolling over so Stiles lay on his chest, running his hand up and down the smooth, mole dotted planes of his back, whispering hushed words of love into his sweaty hair as Stiles sobbed softly.
In the morning, Derek made him breakfast in bed and scattered kisses over the marks he'd left on his neck the night before, combing his fingers through Stiles' disheveled bed head as Stiles munched on the perfectly crispy bacon and wonderfully fluffy pancakes Derek had made, trying not to be too embarrassed by the previous night's waterworks.
After breakfast, Derek had literally carried him to the bathroom where they'd taken a hot shower together, Derek, unable to help himself, nipping and sucking at Stiles' neck as he massaged body wash into Stiles' smooth, pale skin. Soon enough, Derek's amorous kisses and less than innocent touches led to what was both Stiles' first time having shower sex and his first time having sex standing up--all in only his second time having sex at all.
Between moans he thanked the heavens above for Derek's foresight to have a bottle of oil based lube on hand in the bathroom, smirking to himself as he idly wondered about how long Derek had wanted to fuck him in the shower.
After their steamy shared shower, Derek had carried Stiles back to bed after drying him off, Stiles too boneless with pleasure to even lift his head off Derek's shoulder. They spent the rest of the day lounging in bed, not bothering to put a shred of clothing on, Stiles lazily pressing kisses over Derek's neck and shoulders and collarbone as Derek gently stroked his hand up and down Stiles' naked back, tracing the play of moles across the breadth of his shoulders.
And the romance hadn't stopped there. If anything, it had intensified.
Derek made a point of continuing to be as romantic as humanly--werewolfily?--possible, constantly one upping himself with every gesture.
A few days after he gave Stiles another bouquet of red roses for their three month anniversary, he one upped himself by scattering rose petals and candles around the entire loft leading to the bed upstairs where he made love to Stiles for hours. Only a few hours after he'd absentmindedly began singing to Stiles on the couch, Stiles' head in his lap as he re-read one of his favorite books, he pressed kisses to Stiles' shoulders and back as he mumbled poetry into his skin in fluent Spanish as they laid in bed together.
So, naturally, he was intrigued when, while he and Derek were driving along a country road on the outskirts of Beacon Hills, Derek had pointed out a sign in front of a local farm, advertising for people to pick their own apples, and insisted he pull over. He'd cocked an eyebrow at his boyfriend but parked and climbed out of the Jeep nonetheless, eager to see what Derek had in mind.
Derek slipped his hand into Stiles' and led him over to a display of produce for sale where an elderly man was restocking a wooden shelf of cartons of cranberries. The man turned to greet them with a warm, toothy smile, wiping his hands with a handkerchief. "What can I do for you gentlemen?"
"Hi," Derek greeted, holding his hand out to shake the man's hand. "How much to pick our own apples?"
"Five dollars a head," the man replied, returning Derek's firm handshake. He visibly blanched when Derek handed him a twenty dollar bill, shaking his head as he stammered, "Oh, no. This-This is too much."
Derek simply shrugged and slipped his arm around Stilesâ shoulders, hugging him tightly against his side. Looking back at the man who was still gawking at the twenty dollar bill, he explained, âIt's a special occasion.â
After blurting out a few thank youâs, the man directed them over to the apple orchard, handing them each a hand woven basket to collect their apples in. They had eagerly hurried to the orchard where Derek set to work explaining which apples were the best to pick.
Stiles waited until they were both immersed in picking apples, steadily filling their baskets, to ask the question that had been burning in the back of his mind since they parked. Glancing over his shoulder at Derek who was reaching up to pluck a juicy red apple, he inquired, âSo⊠Apple picking?â
âYeah,â Derek answered simply, a smile audible in his voice. âMy mom used to bring us every year. All of us â me and my sisters â would spend the whole day picking apples with her.â
Stiles smiled himself, biting his bottom lip. He loved hearing about Derek's family though he always ached at the fact that he would never meet any of them.
âMy mom would always bake an apple pie that same night. With streusel on top, not pie crust,â Derek continued on, luring Stiles away from his downright depressing thoughts. A soft, nostalgic smile accompanied his words as he recalled, âShe'd use the rest of the apples to make her own apple sauce. And apple cake and cider and muffins, even cheesecake.â
Derek raised his head to smile over at Stiles who beckoned him over with a wave of his hand. He set his basket down and meandered over to Stiles with a sly grin, backing him against a nearby tree. âYeah?â
âI love you,â Stiles announced, raising his hands to fist them in the front of Derek's shirt to reel him in for a sweet kiss. The funny thing was it almost tasted like apples.
Ever since he was a little kid, he had been horrible with dealing with the little green eyed monster. And anyone who knew him was well aware of it.
When he was seven he had gotten into a fight at school when someone else claimed that Scott was their best friend. When he was seventeen he ended up despising Allison for taking up all of Scott's time.
Now, at twenty one, he was more jealous than he had ever been before. All because of some stupid present.
A few weeks prior, Derek had left town for an important meeting with a couple other alphas in the surrounding area. Stiles had been recruited to housesit the loft, mostly to water the plants that Derek had started growing by the wall of windows.
Inevitably, Stiles had gone snooping, his curiosity getting the better of him. Hoping to win a bet that he and Scott had made about whether or not Derek masturbated or not, Stiles had gone rifling through Derek's nightstand in search of lube.
In addition to the bottle of lube he did in fact find, proving that he was right and Derek really did jerk off, Stiles had stumbled upon a small white box. It had looked innocuous enough but something had urged him to open so that's just what he did.
Inside was a pendant, the silver charm an anatomically correct heart with aorta and all. A small note had been included in the box, written in Derek's neat print, reading, For the one who holds my heart.
A rush of pure anger had washed over Stiles as he chucked the box back into the nightstand and slammed the drawer shut. After making sure he had watered Derek's stupid plants, he had rushed out of the loft, tossing the spare key over his shoulder.
His jealousy was colored with desperate hopes that whoever did hold Derek's heart would cherish it forever and never forget how lucky they were. It was also tinged with wariness due to Derek's horrible history of picking people to date.
Despite wanting the best for Derek, he couldn't help his jealousy, having been in love with Derek for years and sleeping with him for months. And his jealousy showed.
A few weeks later, after a pack meeting, Derek finally confronted him about his standoffish behavior. Once everyone else had left, Derek growled, âWhat the hell is your problem, Stiles? You're acting like a child!â
âIâm jealous, okay?!â Stiles snarled back, not seeing the point in denying it any longer. âI found the necklace! âFor the one who holds my heartâ! So just go hook up with whoever the hell it is and fuck off!â
âStiles, you don't understand!â Derek claimed desperately, crossing the room to cup Stilesâ face in his hands the way he had the first time they had slept together. âStiles, the necklace is for you. You're the one who has my heart. It's you.â
This was supposed to be a short little ficlet but it turned into an almost 6k mess, so I hope you enjoy it, Charlie! (also on ao3!)
Derek had never celebrated an anniversary before. At least, not an anniversary for a romantic relationship.
In the past, he had never had the opportunity nor the necessity to. But now that he was dating Stiles, and had been for exactly a year now, he finally did.
Precisely a decade ago, way back in high school, he had only ever dated one person seriously and that had been Paige. Despite the fact that they had been together for several months, they had never celebrated an anniversary.
They had been too busy making out behind the bleachers and passing love notes and secretive looks in class, too preoccupied with being stupid teenagers to worry about anniversaries. Not when they could be focused on thinking about the next time they could slip away to some vacant broom closet or the backseat of a friendâs car.
And then Derek had made one of the worst, most disastrous decisions of his life, getting the idea in his head that things would be so much better if his girlfriend was a werewolf like him. Poor Paige had ended up dead, buried in the middle of the woods away from her family and friends in an unmarked grave by the Nemeton.
The only anniversary present she ever got from him was a funeral bouquet.
He had no anniversary to speak of with Kate. They had never even really been dating in the first place. It had taken him a long time, years, as a matter of fact, to finally realize that.
She had just been using. A much older woman seducing a vulnerable, naive teenager, manipulating him with sex for her own gains.
Unfortunately, it was only after the fire and years of intensive therapy that he realized she was nothing more than a monster.
It was almost the exact same situation with Jennifer, or rather Julia or whatever the hell her real name was. All she had done was use him for her own nefarious purposes, using a bit of dark magic to help her turn him into a pawn.
Luckily, he had come to terms with the fact that she too was nothing more than some kind of heartless monster. He wasnât sure if it hurt more or less that time.
But it was different with Stiles. They were dating. Really dating. And it was wonderful. He didnât think he had ever been happier.
After the frankly terrifying ordeal with the Nogitsune, the whole debacle nearly costing Stiles his life, Derek had finally mustered up enough courage and gall to act on his feelings for the beautiful, brave, infuriating boy. Steeling his nerves with a deep breath, Derek had thrown caution to the wind and strode right up to Stiles, carefully grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and kissing the daylights out of him.
Looking back, Derek had to admit that his timing had been absolutely terrible considering the fact that they had been in the middle of a crowded hospital room, right in front of the Sheriff and the rest of the pack. Admittedly, he hadnât thought much about that, too busy making sure that Stiles knew how much he cared about him.
And if that meant that they shared their first kiss in front of all of their loved ones then so be it. He certainly didnât regret it. Especially since shortly thereafter they had begun officially dating.
With turnabout being fair play, a few days after their first kiss, Stiles had strolled up to him in the middle of an important pack meeting to grab him by the lapels and tug him into a deep kiss. The chorus of raucous wolf whistles and fake gagging from the pack that greeted their kiss did absolutely nothing to detract from how meaningful and amazing it was.
Pulling back from the kiss, his big brown eyes still closed as he licked his lips, Stiles whispered a soft request, inquiring if Derek would like to go out to dinner with him sometime, maybe that upcoming Saturday. Derek had eagerly, suggesting one of the local Mom and Pop diners that he knew Stiles loved, drinking in the smile on Stilesâ gorgeous face with a beaming grin of his own when he said yes.
And now, exactly a year into their relationship, Derek was busy making preparations for what was both his and Stilesâ first anniversary and the first anniversary he had ever gotten to celebrate.
He had gone out of his way in order to make it as memorable as possible, wanting their first anniversary to be wonderful and special for Stiles, spending over a week carefully planning out each and every minute detail. He wasnât ashamed to say that he may or may not have spent an exorbitant amount of money making sure everything was utterly perfect. It was for Stiles, so he really didnât care anyway.
He had ordered balloons, both latex and Mylar foil, from every party store in the county, in the process probably selling out the stores. Their designs ranged from simple monotone latex balloons of various shades of pink and red to more elaborate foil balloons shaped like roses and cakes and giant letters spelling out Happy Anniversary!
Once they arrived, troves of delivery trucks arriving at the loft to drop off all the balloons, he painstakingly arranged them by the wall of windows, making sure the ones spelling out the declaration of their anniversary were front and center. He had taken a moment to stand back and inspect his handiwork, the sunlight radiating in through the multitudinous windows filtered through the balloons too, coloring the polished concrete floor in a kaleidoscopic dappling of pink and white with hints of red.
He had selected various bouquets of all sorts of different flowers from light pink carnations to red orchids, from white dahlias to pink ranunculus, from red lilies to white roses. He thought they were all pretty, spending a few hours online looking at flower pictures on Google Images before ordering them, but he was no florist. He just hoped Stiles liked them.
But as long as it made Stiles smile, Derek really couldnât care less about whatever sarcastic comments his boyfriend made. It was why he loved him after all.
A few days earlier, he had picked up his present for Stiles, a surprise he had hidden in the pocket of his leather jacket, the only place he could think of that Stiles wouldnât get into before their anniversary, well aware of his boyfriendâs tendency to snoop. It was a ring, one he had wanted to get Stiles for over a year now, still a little nervous about actually giving it to him. He didnât want to come on too strong and overwhelm him, didnât want to scare Stiles away.
So, in addition to the ring, he had gotten Stiles a few other gifts, cutesy little things that he thought Stiles might get a kick out of. He had found a stuffed black wolf at the grocery store the week before, immediately thinking of Stiles when he read the message on the little red heart the wolf held, the words howlinâ for you! written in cursive embroidery.
He had also bought them matching charms for their keyrings, a silver Batman symbol for Stiles with the words my Batman engraved on the back and a silver Superman S for himself, the words my Superman etched on it. It was both a tribute to Stilesâ undying love of all things superhero and a reference to last Halloween, Stiles insisting that they do coupleâs costumes for their first Halloween together, practically begging for him to okay them going to the pack Halloween party as Batman and Superman.
With all of the presents wrapped and the loft awash in a sea of deep reds and pale pinks thanks to the abundance and flowers and balloons filling the loft, Derek had shifted his attention to making himself look as presentable possible. He had trimmed his beard a bit and combed his hair after a long shower with the body wash he knew Stiles preferred, leaving the bathroom smelling like Old Spice and aftershave. After seriously considering a button-up and slacks, Derek decided that less was more, throwing on a deep maroon Henley and the tightest jeans he owned, tugging on his favorite pair of boots.
Freshly showered and dressed, he shifted gears again and refocused on getting dinner ready. He had gathered everything necessary to make Stilesâ favorite recipe, Derekâs motherâs famous homemade lasagna, brushing the dust off of one of his motherâs cookbooks to find the recipe though he knew it by heart, wanting to double check every step he made.
He was frying up some toasted ravioli for an appetizer, the lasagna still needing some more time in the oven, when he heard the unmistakeable metallic groan of the heavy steel door being tugged open. Smiling to himself, he scooped the last of the ravioli out of the pan of hot oil, laying them on a plate to cool as he turned the stove top off and turned to stroll out of the kitchen to greet Stiles.
Stilesâ smile easily outshone the late afternoon sun outside as he scanned his eyes over the transformed loft, a look of pure awe on his beautiful face as he curiously looked around, unable to fight his natural inquisitiveness. Derek lingered by the kitchen, folding his arms over his chest as he watched Stiles walk further into the loft, beaming down at the flower petals Derek had scattered over the polished concrete floor.
He set his bag down on the coffee table, a red gift bag with little hearts emblazoned all over it, and continued to wander around through the loft, taking in each and every detail that Derek had painstakingly agonized over. He dragged the pad of his thumb over a delicate rose petal as he rounded the back of the couch, heading over to the wall of windows that was obscured by the cloud of balloons Derek had ordered.
âThis fucking dork,â Stiles mumbled, palpable fondness audible in every syllable as he ducked his chin and shook his head, dragging his teeth over his plump bottom lip. He had turned to look at the other side of the room, drinking in the sight of all the flowers spread throughout the loft, when he finally noticed Derek watching him from the kitchen doorway. âOh! Hey, babe!â
âHey, yourself,â Derek said by way of greeting, pushing himself off the wall and striding over to slip his arms around Stilesâ waist, reeling him in close so he could plant a warm kiss on his lips. Stiles sighed into it, throwing his arms around Derekâs neck as he returned the soft kiss, smiling against Derekâs lips.
âThis all for me, big guy?â Stiles asked, breaking the kiss to rake his eyes around the loft before turning back to Derek with a radiant grin, raising a curious brow.
âNo, itâs actually for my other boyfriend,â Derek quipped, smirking down mischievously at Stiles, tightening his arms around his waist and swaying a bit. Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, Derek leaned in close and teasingly informed him, âAnd heâll be here soon so youâll have to shoo.â
âUgh, asshole!â Stiles crowed with a punched out laugh, smacking Derek on the shoulder as he threw his head back and laughed deeply. Raising his head, nearly cracking their skulls together, he pecked Derek on the lips with a crooked smirk of his own, announcing, âYouâre lucky I love you so much.â
Derek couldnât help but agree, nuzzling his nose against Stilesâ cheek, bumping their foreheads together while he closed his eyes. Basking in the scent of Stiles, complemented by the subtle perfume of flowers and the savory smell of dinner, Derek murmured, âYeah, I really, really am.â
âAwwâŠâ Stiles drawled, leaning into Derekâs gentle touch as he buried a hand in the werewolfâs thick black hair, combing his fingers through the silky soft strands. He tilted his head to the side to press a kiss to the corner of Derekâs mouth, mumbling, âSuch a sweetwolf.â
Derek couldnât have fought the smile that stretched across his face if he wanted to, lifting his head to peck Stilesâ on the temple, raising a hand to ruffle his boyfriendâs already tousled hair. His smile morphed into a crooked smirk when Stiles yelped indignantly and swatted his hand away to fuss with his disheveled bedhead, shooting a half-hearted glare that was belied by the smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Derek was about to kiss Stiles again, unable to help himself when it came to Stiles, when the oven beeped, loud and shrill, completely interrupting them to beckon him back into the kitchen before dinner got burned. He groaned petulantly with an exaggerated pout, jutting his bottom lip out as he turned to walk back into the kitchen, commenting, âThatâs dinner.â
Stiles followed him into the kitchen, leaning back against the wall while he watched Derek open the oven door and inspect the lasagna, making sure that it was fully cooked before carefully pulling it out of the oven. He noticed Stiles licking his lips as he set the lasagna on the counter to cool down a bit, wanting to avoid Stiles scalding his tongue and the roof of his mouth like he had the last time Derek had made lasagna.
âHow about we let it cool this time, babe?â Derek suggested, turning back around to Stiles who frowned at him, folding his arms over his chest stubbornly as he raised a brow at his boyfriend. His frown was only replaced by a bright smile when Derek indicated the plate of toasted ravioli, Stilesâ stomach letting out a well-timed rumble at the sight of the food as Derek assured him, âDonât worry, I made an appetizer.â
âGod, youâre so amazing,â Stiles announced emphatically, walking passed Derek to the plate of ravioli, making grabby hands at the fried pasta. Derek just shook his head at his antics and handed one to Stiles along with a napkin, grabbing one for himself and taking a small bite. Wiping his mouth with the napkin, Stiles impatiently wondered, âSo, when do I get my present?â
âThat all you care about, Stiles? Your present?â Derek inquired, cocking an amused brow at his boyfriend who had a piece of the ravioli breading stuck on his bottom lip. He brushed it off with the side of his thumb, dragging the pad of his finger over the smooth pink curve of Stilesâ lip.
âOf course,â Stiles agreed, nodding his head solemnly even as he smiled sweetly up at Derek. âWell, that and the sexââ he paused for a moment, furrowing his brow ââthere is gonna be anniversary sex, right?â
âMaybe,â Derek conceded with a tilt of his head, smirking down at Stiles who beamed right back up at him, actually bouncing on the balls of his feet a bit. Mischief stretching his smirk into a wicked grin, Derek added, âIf youâre good.â
Stiles barked out a loud laugh, tossing his head back as he did, curling a hand around his stomach, his sides visibly shaking. Setting his half-eaten raviolo aside, he chuckled, âLike thatâs gonna happen anytime soon.â
Derek snorted under his breath before turning back to the task at hand, picking up the plate of ravioli and a few extra napkins, spinning around to carry the appetizer back into the living room. Setting the plate and the napkins down on the coffee table, Derek lit the three white tapered candles he had set up earlier, pulling a book of matches out of his back pocket.
He jogged back to the kitchen to grab a bowl of his own homemade marinara sauce and the loaf of garlic bread he had prepared, this time gesturing for Stiles to follow him. Stiles plopped down on the couch with a wide grin, picking up his half-eaten raviolo and taking another big bite, watching Derek as he hurried back to the kitchen to grab something else.
He returned to the living room holding a bottle of red wine in one hand and two wine glasses in the other, a corkscrew tucked into his pocket so he didnât have to make another trip to the kitchen. Stiles raised a brow at him as he took a seat beside him on the couch, eyeing the bottle of wine skeptically as Derek set it and the glasses down on the coffee table.
âWine? Really, Mr. Responsible?â Stiles teased, poking Derek in the ribs, eliciting a laugh from his boyfriend as he tugged the corkscrew out of his pocket. Ripping off a piece of his ravioli to dip into the marinara sauce, getting a bit on his fingers, Stiles continued his teasing, inquiring, âYou forget Iâm only nineteen, Deputy Hale?â
Derek shrugged, setting to work uncorking the bottle of cabernet sauvignon with a triumphant grunt when he got it on the first try, admittedly using a bit of werewolf strength. He wasnât above showing off a little. Pouring Stiles his glass first, he dismissed any qualms Stiles might have had, simply stating, âItâs a special occasion.â
Stiles accepted his glass of wine with a conspiratorial smirk, raising it to clink against Derekâs, winking at his boyfriend over the rim of his glass as he took a long, heady sip. Setting his glass down, Stiles glanced over at Derek out of the corner of his eye, picking at his ravioli as he soaked in how happy Derek looked, soft and content.
They ate their ravioli appetizer in relative silence, on occasion taking little sips of their wine as they lightly bumped shoulders and played an awkwardly angled version of footsie. After finishing their appetizer, Derek stood from the couch, leaning over to kiss the top of Stilesâ head as he gathered the empty plate and dirty napkins.
After tossing the napkins into the trash can and putting the plate in the sink, Derek cut the lasagna, loading up two plates with hearty servings of the dish, leaving some room for the garlic bread. He chuckled to himself at the way Stilesâ eyes lit up when he handed him one of the plates, licking his lips and digging in with his fork before Derek could even sit down, moaning around a mouthful of lasagna.
The entree portion of their meal passed much the same way as the appetizer, both of them just basking in each otherâs company as they ate in silence, occasionally meeting one anotherâs eyes with soft, private smiles. Stiles ended up eating off of Derekâs plate, stealing more than a quarter of his lasagna, Derekâs werewolf appetite no match for the seemingly bottomless pit that was Stilesâ stomach.
âPlease tell me thereâs dessert, too,â Stiles said, wiping some sauce off of his cheek with his napkin, somehow still hungry despite how much he had already eaten. Not even the slightest bit surprised, Derek rolled his eyes and nodded, standing to make yet another run to the kitchen, returning with two large cannolis on a small plate and a bottle of chocolate syrup. Stiles pumped his fist in the air and proudly proclaimed, âDude, youâre the best boyfriend ever!â
A wide smile stretched across Derekâs face as he walked over to the couch, puffing out his chest a bit, feeling a flattered blush warm his cheeks. Stiles leaned over to kiss Derek on the cheek as he took his seat again, sneakily grabbing one of the cannolis from off the plate, sitting back and taking an eager bite after announcing, âAnd Iâm not just saying that because you ply me with good food.â
âGood?â Derek asked casually, getting a little more comfortable in his seat before picking up his own cannoli, waiting for Stiles to nod enthusiastically before taking a bite. He had to agree, it was pretty good. He was glad he had decided to pick them up from the bakery down the street.
They ate dessert slowly, savoring the delicious treats and joking around with each other, Stiles gathering some of the cannoli filling on the tip of his finger to smear across Derekâs cheeks with a loud, self-satisfied laugh. Derek retaliated by flicking a mini chocolate chip at him, the morsel bouncing off the center of his forehead before skittering across the concrete floor, startling a gasp out of him.
Once they were finished, both feeling like stuffed pigs, Stiles grabbed the bag he had brought with him and thrust it into Derekâs chest. Beaming up at him, nodding eagerly, he insisted, âYou first.â
Derek had no complaints. He reached into the bag, bypassing the frilly white tissue paper to pull out a pink envelope sealed with a red heart shaped sticker, his name written on the back in thick black Sharpie. Flicking his eyes up to briefly meet Stilesâ, he used his fingernail to peel the sticker off and open the envelope, carefully pulling out the card.
On the glossy front were two rudimentary stick figures drawn in red, kissing, hearts doodled around their heads, the image alone enough to make him break out into a brilliant smile. There were words scrawled in a darker shade of red above the stick figures, a short little poem reading Roses are red, but sometimes thorny. When I think of you, I get kindaâŠ
He opened the card to read the rest of the poem, though he was already pretty sure that he knew how it ended. Though, to his surprise, the single word written in same deep red cursive font was corny. Beneath it in parentheses was a lighthearted admonishment, claiming (I know what you were thinking! Shame on you!)
Derek huffed out an amused, shaking his head at the card that was just so Stiles that it warmed his heart. Below the words in parentheses, was an additional little note in Stilesâ own sloppy handwriting, reading, Happy anniversary to the most amazing, gorgeous, brilliant, fantastic, wonderful boyfriend I could ever wish for! Love you, Der!
Derek raised his head to grin at Stiles, setting the card aside to cup the back of Stilesâ neck, pulling him into a sweet, chaste kiss that they both ended up smiling into. Mumbling against Stilesâ lips, he relayed, âThank you.â
âDude, thereâs more. Now, câmon, open your present,â Stiles urged, raising a hand to drag his nails through Derekâs dark stubble, resting their foreheads together. He pulled away a few moments later, nodding his head towards the gift bag in Derekâs lap, clapping his hands together eagerly.
Derek reached into the bag again, rooting around through the abundance of tissue paper Stiles had shoved in the bag until he grabbed ahold of a leather box, lifting it out of the bag and setting it on his knee. He flicked the silver clasp open and lifted the lid of the box, peering inside to see what Stiles had gotten him.
It was a watch. But not just any watch. It was a dark sterling silver watch with a custom watch face boasting a picture of him and Stiles, a photo from their first Christmas together, both of them donning bright red Santa hats as Stiles kissed him on the cheek under the fake bough of mistletoe the Sheriff had hung in the kitchen doorway. Derek ran his thumb his thumb over the watch face, vividly remembering the night the photo had been taken.
They had spent it with the rest of the pack at Stilesâ house, the Sheriff more than happy to host a big party for everyone, he and Stiles spending hours slaving away in the kitchen to make a feast and a half for the entire pack before a huge gift exchange. Stiles had smiled the whole night, lingering beneath the mistletoe for the sole purpose of reeling Derek in for a series of deep, slow kisses while everyone else pretended to gag at their blatant PDA. Derek didnât think he had ever gotten his picture taken as much as he had that night, Stiles wanting as many pictures of them together as possible.
âTurn it over,â Stiles instructed, Derek obediently doing just that, flipping the watch over to inspect the underside of the watch face. He found words engraved in the dark metal, declaring, One year down⊠Forever to go⊠I will love you until the end of time.
He raised his head to look at Stiles, feeling choked up in spite of the fact that he wasnât even talking, noting the fact that Stiles, too, looked rather emotional, his face flushed. Derek immediately slipped the watch on his left wrist, securing the band as he leaned over to kiss Stiles again, awkwardly cupping his face in his free hand while running his thumb over Stilesâ smooth cheek.
âSo, I guess you like it?â Stiles wondered aloud, lifting a hand to comb through the short hairs at the nape of Derekâs neck, scratching his nails over the sensitive skin. A smile teased at the corner of his lips as he asked the question.
âI love it,â Derek answered, letting his eyes fall closed as he inhaled deeply, soaking up his favorite scent, the scent of Stiles safe and secure in his arms. Pressing a quick kiss to Stilesâ lips, he suggested, âNow, how about you stay right here and Iâll grab your presents?â
He rose from the couch as Stiles nodded, hurrying over to the bed by the wall of windows to tug Stilesâ presents out from under the mattress where he had stashed them earlier, not wanting Stiles to find them while snooping around. Grabbing the most important present from the pocket of his leather jacket, he rushed back over to the couch, handing Stiles the pale pink gift bag and the stuffed wolf that hadnât fit in the bag, Stiles snatching the plush canine right out of his hands to hug against his chest.
âI love it,â Stiles mumbled, nuzzling his cheek against the plush black fur of the stuffed wolf, his arms wrapped tightly around its plump belly. He had closed his eyes, snuggling the stuffed animal some more, both of which making Derek breath out a laugh as he sat back down on the couch.
âThereâs more,â Derek informed him, shaking the gift bag as he nervously ran his thumb over the small box he tucked under his thigh, unbelievably anxious to pop the big question. Stiles looked up at the bag, loosening his grip on the stuffed wolf and setting it to the side, a bright smile stretching across his face as he made grabby hands at the bag.
Derek handed it over without putting up any semblance of a fight, plopping it down in Stilesâ lap and patiently waiting for him to open his present, eagerly awaiting his boyfriendâs reaction. Stiles shoved his hand into the bag the moment it was within his reach, tossing the tissue paper over his shoulder in his haste to get to his present, lifting the small cardboard box out along with a pristine white envelope, cooing.
Without so much as a by your leave, he ripped open the envelope to tug out the card, though he did take a few moments to curiously examine the front, eyes scanning over it. The card was a deep dark red, a large heart drawn in a glittery gold with the words Loved you yesterday, love you still. Always have, always will, written in black in the center of the heart.
Reverently running his fingers over the words, Stiles opened the card to read the message inside, smiling down at the little sentiment. In an intricate cursive, inked in black, were the words, Every day we spend together, I thank my lucky stars that I met you⊠You are the love of my life and I canât imagine being without you⊠Below the little blurb of sweet words, Derek had penned a message of his own, writing a succinct, Happy anniversary, Stiles. I love you.
Stiles threw his arms around Derekâs neck to tug him into a tight hug, smacking a sloppy wet kiss to his stubbled cheek, before straightening back up to reach into the gift bag again for his other present. He popped the lid off before he even lifted the box out of the gift bag, turning it over in his hand so as not to drop anything as he pulled his hand out of the bag.
Checking his palm, he found the little silver Batman keychain charm, his jaw dropping as he turned the charm over to read the words engraved on the back. Smiling, he looked up at Derek and asked, âWait, do youâ?â
âYeah,â Derek confirmed, cutting Stiles off, already knowing what he was trying to ask. He fished his keys out of his pocket to show off the Superman charm he had already put on his keyring, flipping it over to show Stiles the engraving on it. Needlessly, he explained, âThey match.â
âYouâre such a sap. A nerdy sap,â Stiles sighed dreamily, grinning widely at his ridiculously romantic boyfriend as he pulled his own keys out of the pocket of his hoodie, promptly slipping the Batman charm onto his keyring. Dropping his keys on the coffee table, Stiles scooted closer to his boyfriend, biting his lower lip as he murmured, âSo⊠What nowâŠ?ââ he peered over Derekâs shoulder with a flash of mischief in his eyes ââBecause that bed over there looks nice and comfy. Perfect for all kinds of horizontal activities.â
Derek rolled his eyes, not even pretending to be surprised by his boyfriendâs oftentimes one track mind. But before he could give in and just hop into bed with Stiles, he reminded himself that he had one more present for Stiles.
âUh, actually I have something else for you,â Derek announced, clearing his throat awkwardly while he scratched the back of his head, casting his eyes down to stare at his own lap. He chewed the inside of his cheek, bouncing his leg anxiously as he waited for Stiles to react, feeling even more nervous than he thought he would.
âAww, babe. You spoil me,â Stiles tsk-ed lightly, shifting to face Derek again, drawing the alphaâs eyes back to his own. He was smiling softly, his pale cheeks tinged with a lovely shade of subtle pink, looking eager and excited for whatever was to come.
âI, um⊠Well, I bought this awhile ago but⊠Uh, I wanted to wait for-for the right timeâŠâ Derek murmured, hopelessly fumbling with his words as he played with the box, moving it onto his lap where he stared down at it. Running his thumb over the seam of the box, the fine leather of the box smooth and grainless against the pad of his finger, he quietly claimed, âYou donât have to say yes or anything if you donât want to⊠But I-I want you to have it anyway.â
âUh, DerekâŠ? Is that what I think it isâŠ?â Stiles asked breathlessly, eyes widening as he stared at the box on Derekâs lap, swallowing heavily with an audible gulp. He snapped his eyes up to meet Derekâs, gawking at him incredulously before flicking his eyes back down to watch, entranced, as Derek opened the box to reveal the ring inside.
It was a simple enough ring, little more than just a thin silver band, no other accoutrements save for a unique design where one might expect to find a diamond or some other precious jewel. It was there that the silver was artfully twisted into a loose knot, the delicate design slightly reminiscent of a pretzel much to Stilesâ amusement. But it was no time for levity because he was pretty sure that Derek was proposing to him.
Raising a hand to his mouth, Stiles bit his lower lip to keep himself from blurting out something stupid, his eyes darting between the ring and Derekâs face, a beautifully hopeful expression softening his features. Sniffling as he felt tears brimming in his eyes, Stiles somehow managed to choke out, âDerek?â
âI know you still have three more years of college and I know you think itâs kinda stupid when people get engaged or married while still in schoolâŠâ Derek started, carefully lifting the ring out of the box, tracing his thumb over the knot in the ring. Reaching over to pick up Stilesâ left hand, running his thumb over the back of his palm, he continued on, elaborating, âSo, think of it as more of a promise ring.â
Hesitantly, he looked up at Stiles, searching his big brown doe eyes for some clue as to what he was feeling, what he was thinking, anxiety and excitement and a bit of fear all mixing together in his scent. But all Derek found were tears. Terrified that he had completely ruined everything, Derek sidled over to Stiles, squeezing his hand reassuringly as he reluctantly asked, âStiles? Do you-Do you notâŠâ
âOf course I do, you idiot!â Stiles blurted out, throwing his arms around Derekâs shoulders to reel him in for a bone-crushing hug, burying his face in the crook of Derekâs neck. Scrambling into Derekâs lap, Stiles tearfully mumbled, âI love you, Derek. So much.â
âSo, is that a yes?â Derek asked earnestly, not trying to be sarcastic, genuinely needing to hear it confirmed verbally, hear Stiles accept his proposal. For someone as taciturn as himself, he knew that honest, clear communication was important, now more than ever.
âYes, itâs a yes!â Stiles laughed wetly, pulling back to lift his left hand up to Derek to see, wiggling his ring finger for emphasis as he nodded his head to indicate the ring in Derekâs hand. Derek snapped to attention and into action, slipping the ring onto Stilesâ finger so that they could both see it. Leaning his head against the side of Derekâs, he murmured softly, âItâs perfect, isnât it?â
âYeah, it really is,â Derek answered, leaning back against the couch cushions, cradling Stiles in his arms. Running his hand up and down Stilesâ back, he admired the knot of silver on Stilesâ finger. It really was perfect. Everything was.
Even when Stiles chimed in to inform him, âYou still have some cannoli in your beard.â
Hii, so I was wondering if there were any fics where Derek is really sweet and romantic and affectionate and stuff. Like hes a hopeless romantic and Stiles only realizes when they're together (preferably fics where they get together in the fic pls)
*swoon*
a love deeper than the ocean by haleofStilesheart (1/1 | 3,044 | PG13)
Derek surprises Stiles with a trip to the aquarium for their fourth date.
âTheyâre beautiful.ââYeah, they really are,â Derek agreed, reaching out for Stilesâ hand, squeezing it gently.
A Summer Night In Beacon Hills by Nebulaofthesky (1/1 | 1,970 | PG13)
Stiles has some body image issues and Derek knows it. So how does he make his boyfriend feel better? By worshiping his body of course.
âWitches, Druids⊠Whats the difference?â by Miss_Webb, PruneNott (18/18 | 70,047 | R)
Stiles goes into the woods and practices his magic, everything goes straight to crap after that.
Slipping Through My Fingers by LiviKate (1/1 | 2,794 | R)
Derek was once again struck with that weird craving he sometimes got. That itch in the center of his palm, the flex in his fingers, a coldness in his shoulder.He really wanted to hold Stilesâ hand.He needed it.
In which Derek doesnât know how to ask for what he wants and Stiles is oblivious until feelings get hurt. Then happiness. Thatâs it. Thatâs the fic.
Predestiny and Power Outlets by RainyForecast (1/1 | 1,816 | NR)
âHe crouches down and shakes the manâs shoulder, not exactly gently. The man jolts awake and yanks his beanie up to reveal an unnervingly handsome face. His piercing hazel eyes are befuddled as he stares at Stiles. Stiles rocks back a little in reaction to all the pretty (who could blame him?) but he has more important things to worry about. He scrapes his hands through his hair, probably making himself look even more unhinged.
âLook man, I can see youâve got your cozy little nap corner over here, but I really, really need to text my dad before he assumes Iâve been stabbed in a London back alley so can I please use the outlet for just a couple minutes?â â
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I'm so about Derek being all mushy and emotional around Stiles and it's literally so cute but when Stiles tries to tell everyone how much of a lovey dovey dork Derek is they don't believe him and Derek thinks it's hilarious because he is evil okay
Okay, but this is pretty much how I see canon canon Sterek, alright? Derek is an asshole. Heâs snarky and grouchy and yeah, he can be super sweet. He cares about people. He listens to them and buys them ice cream when they are sad because thatâs what Laura used to do for him. But ultimately heâs Derek-frowny-eyebrows-Hale.Â
Itâs justâŠhe has a really mushy centre, okay? Heâs like one of those sweets you bite into and suddenly there is just goo everywhere and itâs delightful. Derek never shows this side of himself to anyone, didnât even know he still had that side to himself really. When he was younger he was romantic and Laura always teased him for being a secret dork who thought mixed tapes and flowers were everything. But then Kate happened and he grew up.
Then along came Stiles and Derek suddenly found himself wanting to do those things again. He wanted to hold Stilesâ hand and take him on picnics and talk to him about the stars and old folklore stories about star crossed lovers from different wolf packs. And when they get together, sure, Stiles teases him, but itâs always with a massive grin or followed by kissing and Stilesâ racing heart and spiked scent of happiness so, you know, Derek doesnât let himself feel embarrassed about any of it.Â
The thing is, no-one ever believes Stiles when he says Derek made him a mixed tape. Or when he âcomplainsâ about Derek when he wraps his arms around him in public and nuzzles his neck. Or even about the time Derek bought him flowers even though Stiles had only invited him over to watch Star Wars.
Derek finds it absolutely hilarious. That is until the day Scott asks Stiles how he manages to change his heart beat to stop it from stuttering every time he lies. Because Stilesâ face justâŠwell, it doesnât fall exactly. He laughs, makes a joke as always, but Derek can see the hurt behind his eyes. He can see the way Stiles closes in on himself just that little bit at Scottâs totally genuine expression.Â
And then Derek remembers. Remembers that night Stiles called him years ago, sobbing, sounding beyond broken, just asking Derek over and over to believe him. âPlease, just say you trust me. Say you trust me. Say you trust me. Please, Derek. I canât- Scott- I canât- Scott- he-â Derek would have come home that night, if Stiles hadnât asked him to stay away. Although, if he had known just what had been going on he would have come back no matter how many times Stiles said no.
And so he just startsâŠshowing it. During pack movie nights he kisses Stiles on the cheek and wraps him up in a big old fluffy blanket and scents him with a big stupid grin on his face. He feeds Stiles food from his plate and tells him how thereâs a song he heard the other day that reminded him of them and says I love you every chance he gets. He calls Stiles mate and not as a friendly, British endearment, alright? Itâs freeing really, and even though Derek saves most of that side of himself for when they are in private, showing a little of it is totally worth it for the look on Stilesâ face when the pack turn to him, one by one, and say âwow, sorry for doubting youâ.Â