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August 31, 2014 at 8:55pm
602 notes
Reblogged from bilesandthesourwolf

Sterek Week // Sunday: Tattoos and Soulmates
Derek Hale runs a tattoo shop in the small town of Beacon Hills. He likes to keep to himself, but he’s good at what he does, which is how he finds himself befriending Stiles Stilinski. Stiles comes to Derek for his first tattoo when he turns 21, a floral pattern on his arm dedicated to his late mother. After that first one, Stiles keeps coming back for more. 
Stiles finds he enjoys the artwork Derek adorns his body with, even letting Derek talk him into getting a triskelion on his chest, and if Derek has a matching one on his back, he keeps that information to himself.
The two become good friends over the next few years. Derek opens up about his family and the unfortunate fire that killed most of them. Stiles talks about his mother and how difficult it was to watch her waste away in front of him.
One afternoon, Stiles finds his grandmother’s old Polish books in the attic, books about ancient ruins and rituals. He doesn’t pay much mind to the words, but he finds a symbol he likes and thinking about getting a new tattoo in honor of his grandmother, Stiles stuffs the book in his messenger bag and heads out to see Derek.
Derek studies the symbol for a long time before he begins working on Stiles left bicep. When the tattoo is almost complete, Stiles’ vision begins to blur and he feels like he might faint, which is strange considering he’s never had a problem before. When his vision finally clears, he finds Derek’s worried face hovering over him, and when Derek reaches out to touch Stiles’ forehead, something like fire shoots through Stiles’ veins. Judging by the look on Derek’s face, he felt it too.
When realization hits Stiles, he grabs the book from his bag and flips to the page with the symbol with trembling fingers, Derek hovers over his shoulder as they both read the words next to the symbol. “The symbol shows the wearer their soulmate”, the faded print reads. 
Stiles turns to Derek with some trepidation, not knowing how the man will react. What he’s not expecting is for the tattoo artist to be smiling at him. “Well, shit,” Derek says, leaning closer to Stiles. “I didn’t need a symbol from a magic book to tell me that.”
Stiles grins with relief before Derek is kissing him. And later, in Derek’s bed, sated and happy, they aren’t at all surprised to find a matching tattoo on Derek’s hip.

Sterek Week // Sunday: Tattoos and Soulmates

Derek Hale runs a tattoo shop in the small town of Beacon Hills. He likes to keep to himself, but he’s good at what he does, which is how he finds himself befriending Stiles Stilinski. Stiles comes to Derek for his first tattoo when he turns 21, a floral pattern on his arm dedicated to his late mother. After that first one, Stiles keeps coming back for more. 

Stiles finds he enjoys the artwork Derek adorns his body with, even letting Derek talk him into getting a triskelion on his chest, and if Derek has a matching one on his back, he keeps that information to himself.

The two become good friends over the next few years. Derek opens up about his family and the unfortunate fire that killed most of them. Stiles talks about his mother and how difficult it was to watch her waste away in front of him.

One afternoon, Stiles finds his grandmother’s old Polish books in the attic, books about ancient ruins and rituals. He doesn’t pay much mind to the words, but he finds a symbol he likes and thinking about getting a new tattoo in honor of his grandmother, Stiles stuffs the book in his messenger bag and heads out to see Derek.

Derek studies the symbol for a long time before he begins working on Stiles left bicep. When the tattoo is almost complete, Stiles’ vision begins to blur and he feels like he might faint, which is strange considering he’s never had a problem before. When his vision finally clears, he finds Derek’s worried face hovering over him, and when Derek reaches out to touch Stiles’ forehead, something like fire shoots through Stiles’ veins. Judging by the look on Derek’s face, he felt it too.

When realization hits Stiles, he grabs the book from his bag and flips to the page with the symbol with trembling fingers, Derek hovers over his shoulder as they both read the words next to the symbol. “The symbol shows the wearer their soulmate”, the faded print reads. 

Stiles turns to Derek with some trepidation, not knowing how the man will react. What he’s not expecting is for the tattoo artist to be smiling at him. “Well, shit,” Derek says, leaning closer to Stiles. “I didn’t need a symbol from a magic book to tell me that.”

Stiles grins with relief before Derek is kissing him. And later, in Derek’s bed, sated and happy, they aren’t at all surprised to find a matching tattoo on Derek’s hip.

(via hales-emissary)

6:18pm
233 notes
Reblogged from stoney321

Happy 5000th post? Have some(quasi) threesome Parrish/Stiles/Derek pr0n.

stoney321:

So that latest photoshoot for Teen Vogue had me all a’fluttered. Like, this?

image

I read this as ’50s Stiles, small town, desperate to get out, maybe make it all the way down to Hollywood where he hears there are boys like him, boys who like the girls, sure, because hey, they’re all soft and smell good, and Heather even slipped her sweet little hand into his Levis in the backseat at the drive in that one time, but.

She also didn’t like getting his spunk all over her, and made a face, wiping it off on his jacket lining, and that was his good jacket, okay? It wasn’t like they paid his pops enough bread to just pop into the Sears & Roebuck for a new one.

But down there in Hollywood they have guys who…like boys, too. Or young men. Guys like Deputy Parrish. See, when the deputy pulled him over for speeding late Saturday night, apparently not caring that Stiles was his boss’ son, pulling him out of his truck’s cab in the dark of the roadside, right by the big highway sign for Brylcream where the lights had been busted out by hooligans (Scott and Stiles, actually), and when he pressed up against Stiles’ back, patting him down and kicking his feet wider to really search—jeez, he didn’t carry a piece in his Fruit of the Looms, for crying out loud—Parrish’s hand had cupped his junk for a lot longer than was necessary for a routine search. No, his hand was gripping and rubbing, soft, then hard, then giving him a good squeeze, the kind you fuck into.

And when he’d pressed all up along Stiles’ back, nosing along Stiles’ hairline, he’d whispered, “So it’s like that, is it? I thought so.” He’d taken Stiles’ shudder as permission, rubbing his hand roughly over the growing bulge in Stiles’ jeans, fingertips drawing along its length, hand gripping him through the denim and stroking, stroking, but stopping before Stiles could blow his load, before Stiles could make a real mess of himself in more ways than one.

No, he’d instead taken Stiles’ earlobe between his teeth and gave it a little tug and said, “You feel like speeding again, tomorrow night? Hmm? Now you know where the, uh, speed trap is,” and after dragging his fingertips roughly up the length of Stiles’ dick, pulled away completely, leaving Stiles heaving against the side of his truck, his breath in pained hitches, his dick aching in his pants, and his heart racing. He’d turned in time to see Parish adjusting himself in his uniform pants with a self-satisfied sort of grin before pulling away in his patrol car with a little bweep of the siren in warning or acknowledgement, Stiles didn’t know.

He’d liked being with Heather, he did. She even let him get a hand under her bra that one time, and she wasn’t as big breasted as Lydia, but it was nice. Really nice, all soft and squishy, and Heather had made these amazing sounds that went straight to his cock. But when he jerked it alone at night, it was with the feeling of a hard, hot body pressed up against his back, hands maybe bigger than his on his dick, a rough cheek against the back of his neck, a thick, fat line of cock rubbing up against the back of his ass, fuck.

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11:31am
262 notes
Reblogged from matildajones

matildajones:

sterek » stiles can teleport places au

For Sterek Week! Friday: Sterek AU

 Derek steps down onto the beach, his dogs already far ahead of him. The wind is biting and grey is settling in but he’s not going to let the weather stop his daily routine. Sand moves under his feet and he notices a man wandering over the beach, hands in his pockets and his whole body shivering.

 His dogs rush around the man’s ankles, excited for some human contact other than Derek. Not many people come to this place and he’s not even sure how the man got here. Derek watches as the figure bends down to pet his dogs, and as Derek drifts closer he smells the breath of magic on the man.

 It hits him hard and his own eyes start to burn with colour involuntarily. The man freezes, standing straight, and his pretty pink lips part in terror. His face goes pale and waves of his scent hit Derek’s nose. It’s flooded with the prickle of magic and anxiety. Then the man is gone.

 Derek’s dogs rush up and bark at his heels, moving around excitedly at the man’s sudden disappearance. He feels like he should be worried. No one comes to this part of the coast and the closest town is two hours away. The last time he was around something supernatural his family died, but now Derek doesn’t have anything to lose or the energy to care. The man seemed to think Derek would do more harm to him, anyway.

++

 It’s another month before he sees the man again. This time he’s scrambling through sandy bush, swearing whenever his hands swipe against the cutting grass. Derek clears and throat. The man darts his head up and his warm, amber eyes stare back. He slips and falls on his backside.

 “What are you doing here?” Derek says, unfriendly.

 He licks his lips, and his heart is thrumming. “Are you – are you magic too?”

 Derek’s eyes threaten to glow blue again. He’s anticipated the dance of magic that falls off the young man so he has a better grip on his control. Derek steps forward, his eyes narrow. He doesn’t want anyone falling into his territory and he curls his lips, revealing his fangs. Derek lifts his hands, his claws lengthening and blue pierces the man. Hair begins to cover his face and Derek smells a bit of fear, hears a small squeak, and then the man is pulled into the air and he’s gone.

++

 “I’m Stiles,” he says, and this time he’s right by Derek’s small cottage, hidden behind rows of trees. Derek snarls at him but the effect is lost when one of his dogs runs to Stiles’ legs and starts trying to lick his hands and knees.

 “Go away,” Derek tells him.

 “I can’t, not by will,” he says, inching closer. Derek would’ve hoped that because he’s got an axe in hand that the guy would be wary and hopefully run away. He’s a sweaty, angry, lonely man, and though he’s chopping wood he probably satisfies the image of an axe murderer.

 Stiles doesn’t run away.

 “I’ve never met anyone,” he clears his throat. “Different.”

 Derek has a burst of sympathy start up inside him but he tears it down instantly. He goes back to throwing his axe against the log and he only stops when he hears a loud chuckle.

 “Didn’t think you’d be the kind of person to have pink flowers on their window sill,” Stiles says at him.

 Derek glares. The flowers had been his mother’s favourite, and he’s only ever seen them grow in this part of the country. “What do you want?” he snaps.

 Stiles shrugs, looking away. His lips look cracked. “Answers.”

 “Well I can’t give them to you,” Derek says gruffly. He turns back to his small cottage and hopes by the time he’s used his pathetic little shower that Stiles will be gone. When he goes back outside, his dog is whining at a spot that smells like magic and smells like Stiles.

++

 He returns from the grocery store, his beat up truck trailing up the dirt of his driveway. It’s dark by the time he gets back and when he steps inside all of his lights are on. Derek smells him everywhere, like he’s gone around and poked in all of Derek’s things.

 His kitchen is even emptier than when he left it and the larger of his two dogs comes down the stairs and immediately starts to press its side against Derek’s legs. Derek bends down and runs his hands through his dog’s coat, accepting a wet kiss from the only company he gets these days, and then he moves down the hallway. He’s surprised to find that Stiles didn’t step into his bedroom.

 It takes more than a few days before his scent has left the cottage completely.

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August 30, 2014 at 12:12am
506 notes
Reblogged from eternalsterekrecs

Cops aus

eternalsterekrecs:

(cops, deputies, detectives, take your pick)

(via kirayaykimura)

August 29, 2014 at 8:09pm
827 notes
Reblogged from kickingshoes
dereksshale:

agentotter:

goldenmeme:

agentotter:

kickingshoes:

People have written all sorts of fic of bakeries and retail clerks someone write me teen wolf fic for this.

BUT WHAT DO THEY SUPPLY EXACTLY I FEEL LIKE FANDOM NEEDS TO ANSWER THIS QUESTION IN DEPTH.

Werewolf supplies. You know, giant dog beds, industrial strength chew toys, eyebrow trimmers…

OH GOD NO I’M TOO BUSY RIGHT NOW I CAN’T WRITE THIS, SOMEBODY DO THE THING

[sterek ficlet??? sorry.]
"Uh, excuse me," a male voice said behind Derek. He waved with his hand, telling the guy to go on, but kept his head inside the cabinet, looking for the nail he knew was somewhere in there. "Do you guys have condoms for thick knots?" 
Derek lift his head too fast, and ended up hitting his head on the counter so hard, he could practically hear the guy behind him wincing in sympathy.
"What," Derek growled out turning around resisting the urge to massage his scalp.
When he looked up to the guy, he wanted to bury his head on the cabinet again. Fuck. What was Derek’s life? The guy looking at him could be a model. He was lean, and had thick lashes and long fingers… 
…And was obviously dating someone, since he was human (Derek checked with his nose) and was here to buy werewolf condoms.
"Uh," the guy said looking at Derek half amused, half worried. "I need condoms for knots, you know? Because normal condoms break? And some padded chains, too. Scott says he has a hard time keeping control, but I think he’s just kinky. And… Oh! I heard something about industrial strength chew toys? Scott loves to bite, Jesus. You should see the hickeys that guy is capable of. And maybe you could get me those special beds, because whenever he’s at my place, I feel like my bed is going to break in two! And my ass is getting so sore… Dude, are you alright? You hit your head pretty bad.”
Derek just blinks, because he never had so much information about someone’s sex life without being invested on it before.
"I’m fine. And yeah, let’s go get those," he mumbles and the guy beans at him.
"Thank you," the guy winks. Derek starts walking, because there are chances of him doing something stupid, like claiming as his someone else’s mate, and the guy follows him up close. “I’m Stiles.”
"Derek."
"Soo, Derek. Have you been working here for long?"
"My family owns the thing, so you could say that."
"Dude! You’re Cora’s brother, right? We study together. She’s scary." Derek doesn’t comment that people generally says he’s the one who looks like a serial killer, but the guy saw him making an ass of himself with the cabinet. He holds up a sigh. 
They go through the things and Derek leaves the condoms for last. There’s no way it won’t be awkward. Specially because it seems like Stiles is flirting with him. And he’s not even being subtle about it! Jesus, does he know that werewolves are jealous and that Derek is an alpha? Whoever the Scott guy is, he’s going to flip when he smell Derek’s scent all over Stiles.
(Well, not all over. Stiles is holding himself too close to Derek’s side and that’s more than enough. Not that Derek is complaining. He’s actually loving it. His wolf is howling with delight, wanting to mark Stiles at any costs. He wants to bite the mole in the neck that…)
Stiles is probably just too friendly. It’s a thing. Tragic, but it is what it is. Derek is seeing things.
"Anyway," Stiles says, "do you try out the stuff you sell?"
Derek nods as they get to the ‘kinky sex’ aisle, as Cora calls it. The inevitable part. “Most things, yeah. And, uh, you can chose the condom you want.”
Stiles studies them carefully, even holds some of them. Derek looks away from those fingers holding a condom. That’s too suggestive and he’s not really on control right now.
"Which brand do you use?"
"Uh." Derek just gaps as Stiles looks at him innocently. It’s a valid costumer’s question. “This one,” he points, ignoring the blush spreading on his cheeks.
"You sure it won’t break, right?"
"Yeah," he clears his throat. It’s too hot in the store, god fucking dammit. "Pretty sure."
"Okay, then.  I don’t want those two having kids yet. I’m too young to be an uncle."
"What?" Derek blinks at that.
Stiles raises an eyebrow. “Uh, Scott and Allison shouldn’t have kids yet? I’m too young to be an uncle?”
"Those are not for you?"
"No?" Stiles looks at him like he’s insane.
"But I thought Scott.." Stiles’ eyes widen when he gets it. 
“Dude, if I was having sex with a male werewolf, why the hell would I need condoms? You people don’t carry diseases, right?”
It makes sense - Derek is so stupid - but…
"You said your ass was sore!" Derek points out.
Stiles blushes furiously. “That’s because I have to sit and sleep on the floor whenever Scott’s around! He and Allison get to use my bed! Oh my god. That’s why you’re acting all weird when I was flirting with you!”
"You were flirting with me?" He can’t help but smile.
"I… I was trying to!" Stiles says biting his lips.
"Well, if that’s the case, Stiles, I’d love to go on a date with you."
Stiles smiles back. Derek definitely does not trip on his own feet when Stiles gets three more packs of condoms saying “for our future dates”.
Except he totally does.

dereksshale:

agentotter:

goldenmeme:

agentotter:

kickingshoes:

People have written all sorts of fic of bakeries and retail clerks someone write me teen wolf fic for this.

BUT WHAT DO THEY SUPPLY EXACTLY I FEEL LIKE FANDOM NEEDS TO ANSWER THIS QUESTION IN DEPTH.

Werewolf supplies. You know, giant dog beds, industrial strength chew toys, eyebrow trimmers…

OH GOD NO I’M TOO BUSY RIGHT NOW I CAN’T WRITE THIS, SOMEBODY DO THE THING

[sterek ficlet??? sorry.]

"Uh, excuse me," a male voice said behind Derek. He waved with his hand, telling the guy to go on, but kept his head inside the cabinet, looking for the nail he knew was somewhere in there. "Do you guys have condoms for thick knots?"

Derek lift his head too fast, and ended up hitting his head on the counter so hard, he could practically hear the guy behind him wincing in sympathy.

"What," Derek growled out turning around resisting the urge to massage his scalp.

When he looked up to the guy, he wanted to bury his head on the cabinet again. Fuck. What was Derek’s life? The guy looking at him could be a model. He was lean, and had thick lashes and long fingers

…And was obviously dating someone, since he was human (Derek checked with his nose) and was here to buy werewolf condoms.

"Uh," the guy said looking at Derek half amused, half worried. "I need condoms for knots, you know? Because normal condoms break? And some padded chains, too. Scott says he has a hard time keeping control, but I think he’s just kinky. And… Oh! I heard something about industrial strength chew toys? Scott loves to bite, Jesus. You should see the hickeys that guy is capable of. And maybe you could get me those special beds, because whenever he’s at my place, I feel like my bed is going to break in two! And my ass is getting so sore… Dude, are you alright? You hit your head pretty bad.”

Derek just blinks, because he never had so much information about someone’s sex life without being invested on it before.

"I’m fine. And yeah, let’s go get those," he mumbles and the guy beans at him.

"Thank you," the guy winks. Derek starts walking, because there are chances of him doing something stupid, like claiming as his someone else’s mate, and the guy follows him up close. “I’m Stiles.”

"Derek."

"Soo, Derek. Have you been working here for long?"

"My family owns the thing, so you could say that."

"Dude! You’re Cora’s brother, right? We study together. She’s scary." Derek doesn’t comment that people generally says he’s the one who looks like a serial killer, but the guy saw him making an ass of himself with the cabinet. He holds up a sigh.

They go through the things and Derek leaves the condoms for last. There’s no way it won’t be awkward. Specially because it seems like Stiles is flirting with him. And he’s not even being subtle about it! Jesus, does he know that werewolves are jealous and that Derek is an alpha? Whoever the Scott guy is, he’s going to flip when he smell Derek’s scent all over Stiles.

(Well, not all over. Stiles is holding himself too close to Derek’s side and that’s more than enough. Not that Derek is complaining. He’s actually loving it. His wolf is howling with delight, wanting to mark Stiles at any costs. He wants to bite the mole in the neck that…)

Stiles is probably just too friendly. It’s a thing. Tragic, but it is what it is. Derek is seeing things.

"Anyway," Stiles says, "do you try out the stuff you sell?"

Derek nods as they get to the ‘kinky sex’ aisle, as Cora calls it. The inevitable part. “Most things, yeah. And, uh, you can chose the condom you want.”

Stiles studies them carefully, even holds some of them. Derek looks away from those fingers holding a condom. That’s too suggestive and he’s not really on control right now.

"Which brand do you use?"

"Uh." Derek just gaps as Stiles looks at him innocently. It’s a valid costumer’s question. “This one,” he points, ignoring the blush spreading on his cheeks.

"You sure it won’t break, right?"

"Yeah," he clears his throat. It’s too hot in the store, god fucking dammit. "Pretty sure."

"Okay, then.  I don’t want those two having kids yet. I’m too young to be an uncle."

"What?" Derek blinks at that.

Stiles raises an eyebrow. “Uh, Scott and Allison shouldn’t have kids yet? I’m too young to be an uncle?”

"Those are not for you?"

"No?" Stiles looks at him like he’s insane.

"But I thought Scott.." Stiles’ eyes widen when he gets it.

Dude, if I was having sex with a male werewolf, why the hell would I need condoms? You people don’t carry diseases, right?”

It makes sense - Derek is so stupid - but…

"You said your ass was sore!" Derek points out.

Stiles blushes furiously. “That’s because I have to sit and sleep on the floor whenever Scott’s around! He and Allison get to use my bed! Oh my god. That’s why you’re acting all weird when I was flirting with you!”

"You were flirting with me?" He can’t help but smile.

"I… I was trying to!" Stiles says biting his lips.

"Well, if that’s the case, Stiles, I’d love to go on a date with you."

Stiles smiles back. Derek definitely does not trip on his own feet when Stiles gets three more packs of condoms saying “for our future dates”.

Except he totally does.

(via hales-emissary)