Hello my dear Sterek friends. I am sick in bed and feel miserable. I'm also bored. So if anyone wants to help out a fellow sterek fan, I would be infinitely grateful for fic recs. Angsty, funny, Au or canon, anything that distracts me a little would be great.
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Far From Any Road - a chaptered, slow burn Sterek detective au.Â
Stiles Stilinski is a young, chronically sleep-deprived detective who's manipulative and morally dubious at best. He's fairly certain that, in the years since he started working for the California Bureau of Investigation, he's seen most of the horrible things that the world could possibly throw at him.
But that's before a body turns up in an alley in Beacon Hills, brutally tortured, with a symbol burned into its back. It's quickly followed by a second and third, and when Stiles is unable to find any hint as to who the culprits might be, his father decides to bring in some outside help.
His name is Derek Hale, and he too has seen some truly horrible things, only some of them on the job.
Stiles hates him immediately. But Derek may be their only hope for solving the case, so Stiles reluctantly agrees to accept his help.
As it turns out, neither have seen anything close to the depths of human depravity that await them in the woods and down the back roads surrounding Beacon Hills.
find the fic on ao3, and the soundtrack on 8tracks.Â
Often, when I really like a fic, I check out what else the author has written. In this case, I found a lot and I wanted to share it with you. ^^
Beltane
DevilDoll
Summary:
"Watching Stiles heal someone has always been a little uncomfortable for Derek, like he's seeing something intimate and private that shouldn't have an audience. That's nothing compared to how it feels." This is an AU in which Stiles has magical healing powers.
This was my starter fic from DevilDoll. I really loved it.
Binomial Coefficients
DevilDoll
Summary:
In which brainy freshman Stiles Stilinski wants star quarterback Derek Hale to join the math team, AKA math nerds in love.
This was the second fic by DevilDoll I read. I really liked it.
You Were a Kindness When I Was a Stranger
DevilDoll
Summary:
"It's not all handcuffs and spankings and learning to deep throat." This is an AU with consensual BDSM sex acts, in which Derek supports Stiles financially in exchange for a sexual relationship. Stiles is of legal age.
And then I read this amazing story. The only thing I didn't like about this fic is that it didn't last longer. I would have liked to read much more of this setting.
So this is a shout out to read DevilDoll's sterek fics. They are amazing.
Anyway, I will read all their other sterek fics too. (The amazing moodboard from @nmyxâ fits perfectly.)
Hi there! I've read a few of your fics on AO3 and adore them, so I thought I'd just put a few ideas out there for you if you feel inspiration strike. :) So, I love, LOVE zombie AUs, and when I saw that listed under 'things i'll write' I kinda swooned. It's so hard to find really well written zombie AUs so I'd love a Sterek version of the end of the world. Also, I can't get enough demon!Stiles, and would love a possessed!Stiles a la Supernatural vibe where Derek comes to the rescue.
Iâm so sorry that this took me so long to get to! Iâm also sorry this isnât longer, but iâm a sucker for moments of peace at the end of the world, so hereâs a short little zombie au fic with established Sterek!Â
~1.4k, rated T, on ao3 here.
Heartbeats.
Beacon Hills is no more.
Of course, on a physical level, it still exists, for the most part, although a fire swept through the suburbs a week ago and rendered block upon block to ash that had clogged the air and made it nearly impossible to go outside. But while the buildings and roads are still standing, on every other level, the city doesnât exist. Its name no longer means anything. Where itâs located on a map of California is irrelevant.
Itâs just another part of the world thatâs been overtaken by the dead.
Thereâs still an hour before dawn. In the world of before, this was one of Derekâs favorite times of day. The city would be mostly quiet, peaceful and still, but the promise of the coming sun made the thick darkness lose some of its ominous nature. The air always smelled just a little cleaner; on clear days, if he concentrated, he could even smell the sea, sharp and salty. He could run through the preserve without having to worry about hikers or campers, with only the animals hidden in the underbrush for company. He could push himself until the desperate gasp of his lungs for breath was the only thing he could hear and feel.
But the days of running through the preserve, of peace and quiet in the hour before dawn, are long gone.
Even at the early hour, standing out on the balcony of the loft is an exercise in sensory overload. The air reeks, is comprised of components that would be horrible enough on their own, let alone in combination: rotting flesh, blood, smoke and ash, pain and despair. No matter how hard he tries to block it out, the sounds of shuffling footsteps and rusty groaning and decaying teeth tearing through flesh fills Derekâs ears. The darkness is utter and true; the electrical grid failed a week or so back, and when the moon isnât swathed by clouds, itâs difficult to see behind the pillars of smoke still rising from the smoldering suburbs.
The only thing that manages to make the scene bearable, the only thing keeping him from simply walking into the preserve and staying there for the rest of his life, are the heartbeats.
The ones out in the city are faint but discernible; somewhere out there, there are other survivors, people that they might be able to band together with. But, more importantly than that, there are heartbeats behind him, on the other side of the loftâs massive window, more than a dozen of them, the pack and their family, safe and secure, sparks of light in the overwhelming gloom.
After a moment, Derek realizes that one of the heartbeats is moving closer. Even before he tunes in to the distinctive gait of the footsteps and the scent that he knows every note of, he knows that it will be Stiles coming out to see him. Stiles rarely sleeps well when Derek isnât beside him, and he usually ends up wandering outside before Derekâs watch shift is done. Sometimes, he falls asleep out on the balcony, wrapped up in a blanket, nail-studded bat inches away from his fingertips. Sometimes, he stands at Derekâs side, arms crossed on the ledge, and watches the world with him in silence.
Sometimes, like tonight, he shuffles out onto the balcony, yawns expansively and presses the warm line of his body against Derekâs back, drapes over him like a blanket. His bat drops to the ground with a clatter of metal nails against concrete before he winds both arms around Derekâs waist and presses his cheek against Derekâs back, right over his tattoo.
âAny movement out there?â he asks, voice thick with sleep. Derek shakes his head. While there is plenty of movement, itâs all of the reanimated corpse kind. The faint heartbeats that he can hear in the distance, the survivors theyâve yet to make contact with, are steady and slow with sleep.
âNothing.â He drops his hands and curls his fingers around Stilesâ forearms, where theyâre criss-crossed above the waistband of his sweatpants. âYou should be sleeping. Youâre not supposed to be on watch for another hour.â
âI just love this view so much, I had to come admire it a little early.â It never fails to amaze Derek how Stiles is capable of sounding so painfully sarcastic even when heâs sleep-deprived, and he pinches his arm fondly. Stiles jumps slightly. âI meant it as a compliment!â
âAre you saying Iâm the view?â
âWell, Iâm certainly not talking about that,â Stiles replies, waving one hand out at the buildings marching away from them before he tucks his arm back around Derek. Derek canât help but smile at the compliment, even though every smile feels inappropriate, feels like it should be saved for some kind of distant future where they actually manage to take back Beacon Hills.
(Of course, he knows all too well that if he were to reserve his smiles for that future only, itâs all too likely that heâd never smile again.)
He feels less guilty about closing his eyes and letting himself relax back into Stilesâ arms than he does about smiling. Thereâs nothing out of the ordinary happening in the streets below, no massive herd coming their way, no fires that might threaten the loft. Letting his guard partially down for a few moments isnât going to do any harm, so he redirects his senses away from the city and towards Stiles. His scent has changed over the last few weeks, gained notes of weariness and fear that never seem to wane, but his base scent, mint and sugar and the barest spark of electricity, is nothing less than comforting. By focusing on the all too familiar, unique rhythm of Stilesâ heartbeat, he can make the rest of the world fall away, at least for a few moments.
What makes him come back to his senses is Stiles swaying on his feet and nearly toppling over. His heartbeat suddenly spikes, as does the sour scent of confusion. Derek flicks his eyes open; before he turns around to face Stiles, he notices that the edge of the horizon has grown a shade lighter, from black to navy blue, a precursor to the sun.
âYou need to get more sleep,â Derek says, absently rubbing a thumb along the bags under Stilesâ eyes. âI can take your shift. Iâm not tired.â
(Itâs not wholly the truth â frankly, Derek doesnât think heâs ever felt so exhausted, right down to the marrow of his bones â but Stiles doesnât need to know that.)
âIâm fine,â Stiles answers. The jaw-cracking yawn that immediately follows the words reveals them to be a lie, and Stilesâ cheek flushes hot underneath Derekâs hand. âOkay, fine, I can feel you judging from here. But youâre not taking my shift. Come get me in half an hour.â
âI will,â Derek replies, even though he has absolutely no plans on doing that. Sliding his hand from Stilesâ cheek up into his hair, which is almost on the shaggy side now, he leans in for a kiss. Stiles sighs into it and curls a hand around Derekâs hip, squeezes lightly before he backs away.
âCome get me. I mean it,â he calls back over his shoulder as he picks up his bat and heads back into the loft, pulls the door closed with a soft click. While Derek turns back to the city, he doesnât pay any attention to it until he can tell that Stiles has climbed back into bed, until his breathing and heart slow back down. Only then does he pull his senses away from the inside of the loft and direct them back to the outside world, towards the corpses shuffling through the streets as far as the eyes can see.
From up here, it almost looks hopeless; itâs impossible to tell that theyâve spent weeks trying to clear the surrounding blocks, take back a tiny square of the city. But while Beacon Hills as a whole may belong to the dead, Derek will be damned if he lets the pack suffer the same fate, if he lets Stiles suffer the same fate.
And so, as the horizon continues to lighten, he stands guard, with the sound of Stilesâ heartbeat ever-present in the back of his mind.
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For the Pack Pool Party prompt on my Sterek Summer Bingo card.
Pool Party. Stiles/Derek. Any Age.
Lydiaâs plan to get Stiles and Derek together changes when she notices their interactions during the pack pool party.
âWhy are we staring at Stiles and Derek?â Malia plops down on the pool chair beside Lydia before ripping open the bag of Xxtra Flaminâ Hot Cheetos. Lydia wrinkles her nose when Malia puts her wet hand into the bag and pulls out a handful of chemically engineered red chips.
âThose look disgusting,â Lydia tells her, having to look away when Malia puts the whole handful into her mouth and crunches. âAnd we arenât staring at Stiles and Derek.â
âWe are in a pissy mood today,â Malia says. âItâs a pool party, Lydia. You should be swimming and ogling everyone in their swimsuits.â
âDonât say ogling again.â Lydia smiles slightly as she turns her head and looks at Malia. âNice suit.â
âOgling is a great word.â Malia shrugs. âAnd you helped me choose the suit, so youâre prejudiced. Or biased.â She yells across the pool. âStiles! Is it biased or prejudiced?â
âBiased.â Derek looks over at them, giving Lydia a knowing look that reminds her he can hear everything they say. She just smiles serenely because itâs not like sheâs forgotten sheâs surrounded by nosy werewolves with ridiculously advanced hearing.
âWhat are we talking about?â Kira swims over and looks up at them. âWhoâs biased?â
âLydia.â Malia bumps Lydiaâs arm with her elbow and grins. âWait. Are you ogling Stiles and Derek? Theyâre definitely hot.â She raises her voice to catcall, âLooking good, Stiles.â
Lydia watches Stiles blush, splotches of color spreading over his face and chest even as he grins and shakes his ass at them. Scott groans and splashes water from the pool at Stiles and Derek, and Lydia purses her lips as she watches Derek step closer and move himself between the splashing water and Stiles.
âMen are idiots,â she mutters before looking at Malia. âAnd Iâm not enjoying the aesthetically pleasing view those two oblivious idiots make, no matter how attractive.â
âThatâs a lot of big words.â Kira pulls herself out of the pool and wrings out her hair before sitting on the ground by Lydiaâs feet. âYou always start sounding like a thesaurus when youâre plotting. Do you need help? Things have been pretty boring since graduation, so Iâm in!â
âMe too.â Malia nods emphatically. âWhat are we doing?â
âShh! They can hear you,â Lydia says, focusing her attention back on Stiles and Derek. Scott and Liam are tossing around a ball in the pool now, and Mason is applying sunscreen to Coreyâs shoulders, so theyâre definitely not going to be paying any attention. She tosses her hair over her shoulder before nodding towards the objects of her attention. âThe unresolved sexual tension is suffocating, so Iâd like to help it get resolved.â
Kira looks across the pool and grins. âYou want to play matchmaker for Stiles and Derek? Seriously?â
âMatchmaker isnât the right word, Kira.â Lydia looks at the men thoughtfully. âI prefer to think of it as being a supportive friend who wants to see her friends happy.â
âItâs matchmaking. Iâve seen so many movies about it since I became human again,â Malia says, licking dark red Cheetos dust off her fingers. âBut Stiles wants to climb my cousin like a tree, so call it whatever you want. Iâll help because they should have lots of sex and be happy.â
âDonât worry, Lydia. We wonât tell anyone youâre a closet romantic,â Kira teases. âWe need a happy ending for them, though, not some miserable ending like some of those movies you watch.â
âWe canât really control whether their ending is happy or not.â Lydia watches Derek duck his head and smile, momentarily taken aback because sheâs never seen him smile like that before.
It transforms his face, makes him look younger and carefree. His eyes are crinkled, and she swears there might even be a flash of dimples. Stiles is staring at Derek like heâs never seen anything so beautiful, and she taps her fingers against her leg as she remembers once being the subject of his admiration. Yet he never once looked at her that way because what he felt for her wasnât love.
Oh.
While she had known there were feelings involved, sheâd been so distracted by the sexual chemistry between Stiles and Derek that sheâd failed to realize the feelings were already so developed. That changes things because she had been thinking of fabricating situations that forced them into close proximity assuming theyâd succumb to the tension with a little outside assistance. Now, she knows itâs a lot more serious than that, and Stiles is her best friend, even if sheâd never actually admit it to him because he needs something to aspire to so he doesnât get careless, so sheâs not going to do anything that put his heart at risk.
âForget the plan,â Lydia decides. âTheyâre our friends, and we shouldnât meddle in their love lives. We could make things worse instead of better.â
âThatâd be awful.â Kira sighs. âWe probably should just stay out of it. Guess weâll have to find something else to entertain us until college starts.â
âDonât mention college.â Malia makes a face before standing. âCâmon. Letâs go show Scott and Liam how to play ball.â She squeezes Lydiaâs shoulder before cannonballing into the pool, splashing Lydia and Kira.
Lydia ignores it because sheâs focused on Derek. Â Watching the way he sits close to Stiles and listens intently while staring at his face, she suspects thereâre definitely feelings involved. But she doesnât know him well enough to be confident itâs more than just attraction. Heâs only been back a few months, but she knows heâs planning to stay this time, settle down and work.Â
Heâs spent a lot of time with Stiles since he moved back, but it might just be friendship between them. Fortunately, thereâs still two more months before sheâll be moving into her dorm at Stanford, so thereâs plenty of time to find out how he feels and to make sure he understands the consequences of breaking her best friendâs heart.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 5/5
Fandom: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Teen Wolf (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Additional Tags: Fluff, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast, Alpha Derek, Prince Derek, Not really beauty!Stiles, Sort of Gaston!Kate, Kate gets what's coming to her, Happily Ever After, Banter, snowball fights, cuddling by the fire, General cuteness punctuated by mob violence, Derek Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Some twists to the original story
Summary:
In honour of the new Beauty and the Beast trailer:
Once upon a time⊠in a faraway land lived a young Prince in a castle. The Prince was cursed by a darach into his Alpha form to be locked away forever unless true love's kiss breaks the spell by his 21st birthday.
"Which is whyâŠ" Stiles said as he led his horse Phillipe and Scott through the forest. "We have to go to the castle because SOMEONE got bit by an alpha and tried to eat their friend last night during the full moon. Also, my dad went to the castle to get you help and hasn't returned so he's probably in werewolf prison right now."
"Werewolves don't exist, Stiles!" Scott exclaimed. "I know you and your dad are from.. elsewhere, but I can tell you for certain that werewolves aren't real This is why everyone thinks you're weird, Stiles."
"Rude."
derek/stiles + âWould it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.â + bonus points if this is before they start dating <3 <3 <3
Something More. Derek/Stiles. Teen. Derek and Stiles get together twice a week to hang out. This time, they decide to watch a movie after dinner, and their friendship becomes something more.
âWould it be all right if I borrowed your sweater?â Stiles holds up the charcoal gray sweater to show Derek which one heâs talking about. Bringing it closer, he sniffs. âIt smells like you.â
âI havenât had a chance to wash it since wearing it last night.â Derek looks at him and arches a brow. âIâve got a clean sweater you can borrow instead.â
âNo,â Stiles says, tightening his grip on the soft material in his hand. Thinking quickly, since he definitely doesnât want Derek to realize why he likes how it smells, he adds, âItâd be pointless to dirty up another sweater when I just need to wear it home. Iâll even wash this one for you before I give it back.â
âI can do my own laundry, Stiles. Iâm not living in an old train car anymore,â he points out, his eyebrows doing their weird communication thing that Stiles still canât translate even after five years of trying. âI even have my own washer and dryer now.â
âI know! Iâm so proud of you for being a real grown boy now.â Stiles watches Derek huff a laugh and totally doesnât get butterflies in his stomach watching Derekâs lips curve into a small smile. Nope, not at all. Butterflies would be stupid, after all, and heâs really smart. Not smart enough to avoid falling for yet another unattainable gorgeous creature totally out of his league, but, well, nobodyâs perfect.
âIâm a man, not a boy,â Derek says, studying him intently for a moment before turning around to head back downstairs. âYou can borrow the sweater, but, next time, check the weather forecast. Youâve got finals coming up, so the last thing you need to do is get sick.â
âDefinitely all man,â Stiles mutters after Derekâs left the room, inhaling the scent of cologne and Derek that still lingers on the sweater. He might not have super werewolf senses, but he can still smell the unique combination of scents that makes him think of Derek. Itâs his own version of Amortentia. Shaking his head, he leaves Derekâs bedroom, sliding the sweater on as he walks downstairs. While he isnât leaving yet, itâs cool enough in the loft to justify putting it on now. âI already had the lecture about the weather, Derek. Thatâs the reason you sent me upstairs to grab a sweater, remember? Because I was bitching about how cold it is in here. Anyway, I donât need it a second time in half an hour.â
âIâve learned that repetition works best for you. You always ignore things the first time, but you eventually start listening after the fifth time.â Derek is in the kitchen scraping remnants of baked ziti into the trash can. âItâs like teaching a dog, which you should enjoy considering your fondness for dog jokes.â
âHa-ha. You arenât funny. Whoever told you that you are was lying.â Stiles shoves the sleeves of the sweater up past his elbows and picks up one of the plates. âTonightâs recipe is definitely a keeper, by the way. It was delicious.â
âI figured that after you ate two plates full,â Derek says dryly, handing him the second plate. âI put leftovers in a container for you so you can take them home with you.â
âI know what Iâll be having for lunch tomorrow then. Jordanâs going to be so jealous.â Stiles runs water over the plate before putting it into the dishwasher. âYou kept enough for you, too, didnât you?â
âThere wasnât that much left, Stiles.â Derek rolls his eyes. âDonât give me that look. I still have leftover chicken from the other night thatâs going to go bad if I donât eat it soon. Youâve got a long shift tomorrow, so you need a good lunch.â
âYou need to stop giving me all the leftovers. Thatâs not fair at all, especially when itâs your food Iâm always taking.â Stiles moves out of the way so Derek can rinse the pans that are dishwasher safe. âNext time, Iâm cooking, and youâre taking all the leftovers.â
âOkay.â Derek looks at him. âJust tell me when. You can use my kitchen since your apartment is ridiculously small.â
âItâs what I can afford on a deputyâs salary, so donât get all judgmental. I know you hate me living in that neighborhood, but itâs not that bad. Iâve faced far worse supernatural shit than anything in my area.â Stiles rubs his face against his shoulder, enjoying the soft sweater material that probably cost more than anything he owns. To be so low maintenance, Derek has some expensive clothes.
âIâm not judgmental. I just donât like you living there. The thought of you getting hurt worries me.â Derek ducks his head to put the silverware in the bottom of the dishwasher. âYouâre pack, so I want you safe.â
âPack. Right.â Stiles sighs and grabs his bottle of beer before heading into the living room. Every single time he foolishly starts to think maybe Derek actually is interested in him beyond the strong friendship theyâve developed in the two years since Derek came back, heâs quickly reminded that itâs not ever going to happen. He really needs to get over it, push this infatuation aside and focus on finding someone who might actually want him, but heâs too stubborn to let go this fast. He pined for Lydia for years, after all, and his feelings for Derek are a lot deeper and more real than anything he felt for Lydia.
âWhatâs wrong?â Derek touches his shoulder, forcing him to face him. âYou smell sad.â
âNothingâs wrong, Derek. Itâs all good.â Stiles smiles before taking a drink of his beer. Itâs local, from up in Oregon, and itâs not bad. Derek likes buying different local stuff for Stiles to try, and this is one of the better kinds. âNo sadness here.â
Derek frowns. âYouâre lying. I know what I smell, Stiles.â He leans forward and inhales, nostrils flaring as he suddenly takes a step back. He drags his fingers through his hair, looking anywhere but Stiles.
âGuess itâs my turn to ask whatâs wrong. Do I stink?â Stiles sniffs but only smells Derekâs sweater and his own cologne. He doesnât usually wear cologne unless heâs going on a date, but, well, he likes to wear it when he comes to Derekâs place for dinner because he wishes it was a date instead of just their twice weekly friendsâ dinner thing they started over a year ago.
âYou donât stink.â Derek glances at him then, lips parted and eyes a little dazed. âYou smell like me. My sweater, I mean. I wasnât expecting it, so it caught me by surprise. Nothingâs wrong with me, either.â
âMe smelling like you makes you all blushy and eye avoidant?â Stiles bites his lip and stares at Derek before he decides that itâs best to let it go. If he pushes, it could just mess up their friendship, which is the thing heâs most scared about losing. Thatâs why he hasnât just asked Derek out on a date so he can find out for certain that itâs unrequited. With Scott still away at vet school and not being super close with the younger pack, Derekâs become his best friend. Heâs not going to lose that over a bunch of feelings he canât control. âSo, uh, movie or more Criminal Minds?â
âMovie. Something funny maybe?â Derek relaxes, which makes Stiles realize he must have been really tense about the scenting thing. Stiles gives him his best puppy dog eyes until he huffs a laugh. âOr some superhero thing.â
âGreat answer. Iâm thinking Winter Solider, seeing as how itâs gotten so cold tonight.â Stiles puts the dvd in the machine before going to sit next to Derek on the sofa. Itâs a little further away than usual, but heâs not sure if Derekâs feeling completely comfortable or not.
He must be, though, because he makes a sighing noise before tugging Stiles back against him. âGet comfortable. And please refrain from the usual commentary about Steve and Bucky, okay? Iâve got it memorized seeing as youâve made me watch this a dozen times.â
âBut the commentary is the best part. Itâs what makes this such an awesome romance instead of just a typical superhero movie. I mean, I could have said Civil War, and then youâd get teary and blame allergies, but, noooo, Iâm nice so I choose the not so sad one,â Stiles points out.
âI donât get teary,â Derek mutters. âIf it was a romance, it wouldnât all be subtext, you know?â
âSee, now youâre just trying to provoke me, asshole.â Stiles slaps Derekâs thigh and grins. âThe studios are too cowardly or stupid to go there, so itâs up to us fans to see whatâs really happening.â
âProvoking you wouldnât be as much fun if you didnât get all flushed and passionate when defending your viewpoint.â Derek clears his throat, and Stiles tenses when he feels soft beard brush against his neck. âOkay?â
âYeah,â Stiles whispers, eyes fluttering as Derek presses his lips against the skin beneath his ear. âDerekâŠwhatâŠâ
âI like you. A lot.â Derekâs not even whispering, his voice so quiet that Stiles isnât entirely sure he heard what he thinks he heard. âI think maybe you feel the same way.â
âI do.â Stiles turns towards him, hitting Derekâs face with his chin, which causes Derek to pull his head back. He cringes because, wow, way to be awkward instead of sexy. âSorry.â
âYou do?â Derek doesnât seem to care that he just got hit in the face. âIâm talking more than just friends, Stiles.â
âDuh?â Stiles smiles wryly. âIâm talking dating and making out when youâre ready because, yeah, thinking about having sex with you has fueled my fantasy life for years, but itâs not just sex. Iâm willing to wait as long as it takes because I know youâve had some issues with people using you for that, and Iâm not those people. I want to romance you, like cheesy rom coms with Katherine Heigl and Hot British Guy, because it always seems to be some hot British guy, and I want to sweep you off your feet, Derek.â
âI donât know who Katherine Heigl is, and Iâd take you over any hot British guys, Stiles.â Derekâs ears are red, and he looks a little surprised at what heâs just said. Before Stiles can reply, Derek kisses him. A chaste kiss, just the press of lips together with a gentle pressure, but it still makes Stilesâ toes curl. Heâs so far gone on Derek itâs ridiculous. âDating sounds like a good start. Then we can let the sex stuff happen naturally, alright?â
âAlright. I like that plan.â Stiles kisses Derek before curling up against him and smiling because he can't believe this really happened. He's happier than he thought possible, especially when Derek pulls him closer and totally starts scenting him. âWe can figure out our first date after the movie.â