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mainly a sterek fic blog, nowadays.

October 20, 2014 at 12:44pm
669 notes
Reblogged from were-dragon


Sterek Week:  Wednesday: Sterek Manips

Derek finds Stiles sitting on the couch, face covered with his hands, groaning. He can’t help a little smile. Seeing Stiles after all day at work is everything he needs for stress to leave his body, and he really doesn’t care how pathetic it makes him.

"What’s the matter?" Derek asks as he drops his as next to his ‘better’ half. 

Stiles doesn’t uncover his face, just nudges something on the coffee table with his knee. Derek lifts it and his smile gets wider. “Wedding pictures came.”

There is another groan from Stiles. It sounds almost pained. 

Derek lifts his eyebrows and starts to list through the photos with growing curiosity. Why is Stiles so upset? 

"It’s the first one." Stiles finally speaks. 

"Well, hello to you, too," Derek snickers and Stiles peaks through his fingers. 

"Hi," he peeps little ashamed and then lets his hands fall and leans forward to give Derek proper welcome kiss. 

"Hi," Derek smiles at him watching Stiles’ eyes flutter open. "Wanna tell me what’s all this about?"

Stiles groans again, and nods towards the pictures. “Look at it and tell me you don’t see it.”

Derek looks down at the picture on the top of the others. It’s them in wedding suits, standing in the park where the photograph, Lydia insisted on, took their pictures. 

"It’s very nice," Derek says after a moment. Posing like this was all kinds of unnatural for them, but it turned out nicely. Derek is holding in his hands proof that one of the happiest days in his life really happened. He loves it, if only for that. 

Stiles huffs and takes it from his hands. “Are you kidding me? I look like I want to murder you! Viciously! This supposed to be happy adorable wedding photo and I look like on a mugshot!”

Derek knows laughing is the worst possible reaction so he bites himself in the tongue and looks at the photo again. The thing is… Stiles does look kind of pissed. Adorably pissed and Derek doesn’t really cares because he loves Stiles’ stupid face in all variations, but yeah, definitely pissed. 

If Derek recalls their wedding correctly, Stiles had all rights for this expression. If there was something that could go wrong that day, it did. There was a car accident, spilled wine, lost rings, baby crying in the middle of the Stiles’ vow, allergic reaction during the banquet, and the worst fucking DJ ever. Stiles worked hard on their wedding. Or more like, he was forced to work hard by Lydia.

In the end, Derek had to take him away early and put Stiles’ mind of with all his abilities and determination, because his beautiful amazing husband was on the brink of tears. 

"You don’t," Derek shakes his head with a small privet smile. Stiles gives him his best bullshit look, but Derek only smiles a little more. “You look hot.”

Stiles snorts.

"Very," Derek adds, eyeing said photography. It’s true. Stiles was always looking good in a suit, but the one he had on their wedding made him look… well, hot

"You think?" Stiles asks and takes another look on that, for him, infuriating picture. Derek can see his expression changing. Stiles is thinking about it. And he likes it. Derek can tell.

Derek leans forward and presses his lips right under Stiles’ ear, where is pale skin soft and warm. Tempting. “Yes,” he breaths out softly. Stiles shudders and Derek bites down satisfied smile. He can smell Stiles’ rising arousal, feel his skin getting warmer, heart beating faster. “You look perfect,” Derek whispers and kisses Stiles low on his throat. 

"Derek," Stiles whines quietly and werewolf can hear photographs falling on the floor like a heavy snowflakes. Next second he’s lying on top of Stiles, smiling in sight of his husband’s shining amber eyes. Stiles’ cheeks are flushed, pupils blown, lips slightly parted. Along with his flailing, babbling and stubborn loyalty, he is the most perfect thing Derek ever saw. 

And he has a lifetime for proving it to him.

(via haletostilinski)

1,129 notes
Reblogged from shepherdings

cinderella lost the vodka bottle


For Chris. Happy belated birthday. ♥


(505): Thank you for holding my vodka while the police let me ride their horse.

“A pony!” The guy flails excitedly, almost dropping the bottle he’s clutching in the process. The woman next to him catches his arm.

“‘s a horse,” she corrects him, and sways dangerously herself when he leans on her, making them both almost topple over.

Derek sighs, rubs two fingers over a brow. At least those two don’t seem aggressive, going by how they’re giggling like two little children.

The guy squints as Derek draws nearer, and gawps when he spots him. He makes a noise, nudging the woman with his elbow.

“Look at that stallion,” he says in what Derek assumes is supposed to be a whisper, but comes out oddly high-pitched; and then the guy’s snorting with laughter.

The woman clutches his arm, face completely straight, and comically white in the harsh light of the lantern, although Derek supposes she noticed his uniform.

“It’s actually a mare,” Derek says as he dismounts. The guy suddenly stops laughing, mouth falling open.

“Wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout the horse,” the guy mutters loud enough for Derek to hear, grinning again, and Derek raises both his eyebrows.

The woman shoves her elbow into his ribs, a panicked expression  on her face. “Stiles!”

The guy, Stiles, straightens, huffs out a breath, and sways forward. Derek eyes him warily as Stiles bring up a hand to the side of Aurel’s neck. He pats her gently, though.

He leans in. “You’re pretty, too, though,” he tells her, and nods with a proud smile. Stiles looks up at him, bright-eyed, and happy.

“I’m Officer Hale. You guys need help?” Derek asks finally, and considers taking both of them to the station. It’s a redundant question in itself, because both of them are clearly drunk, and Stiles is carrying a bottle that most likely contains vodka by the looks of it.

Stiles is still stroking Aurel’s neck distractedly. Derek would be concerned, and ask him to step away, if it wasn’t for the completely glazed over look on his face.

“‘s fine, Officer Hale,” Stiles says with the tiniest of a lilt, looks over his shoulder at his friend. “Allison lives right across the street.”

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392 notes
Reblogged from bleep0bleep

Anonymous said: How do you feel about Deputy Derek? (And any good fics you'd recommend??) 😘😘


  • Cherrybomb by the_deep_magic (E, 36k) Stiles is yanked up to his feet so fast that his world spins and his shoulder aches and he’s a second from screaming police brutality! when he gets a good look at the cop’s face. Holy shit. Stiles was just tackled to the ground by a fucking underwear model with a badge.
  • Flint and Tinder by grimm (E, 44k) Casting spells, chasing monsters, wooing your coworkers and fucking them in their offices - it’s all in a day’s work for Stiles Stilinski.
  • Murder, He Wrote by mklutz (E, 32k) And that was how Stiles accidentally became a New York Times bestselling author.
  • Darling It Is No Joke by thehoyden (E, 13k) The first thing Stiles thinks when he opens the door is that it’s not his birthday, but someone has sent him some kind of cop stripper.
  • Say It With Me— Don’t Assume by KuriKuri (E, 12k) Derek knows way too much about how omega heat suppressants work now, after having been partnered with Stiles for as long as he has. They’re probably his favorite thing to bitch about whenever they’re stuck on a stakeout. Of course, omegas on the force aren’t required to take them. Derek’s never really understood why Stiles does, if he hates them so much, especially—  especially because he’s bonded.

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794 notes
Reblogged from shepherdings

simplystiles said: Nasti can you write me something to make me feel better? Or show me a pretty picture. Or a nice gif. Or a nice word. Or a nice face. Really anything nice. This week's been sucky.


I’m sorry, boo :( Hope this makes you feel at least a tiny bit better.


Scott comes skidding into the room, barely avoids slamming into the next wall with his phone clasped firmly in his hand. He has this look on his face that means he wants something, and that something is most likely something Stiles won’t like.

“Dude,” Scott starts, and comes to sit down next to him on the couch. “Buddy. Bro.”

“Do you think you have Syphilis again? ‘Cause if you need me to check you know you don’t have to butter me up for it,” Stiles says as he caps his highlighter. As far as boundaries go, they maybe only have a handful left that they both swore not to cross, and seeing each other naked isn’t one.

“Aww, that’s actually sweet of you,” Scott says, smiling brightly. He pats Stiles’ shoulder in gratitude, before his face gets all serious. “I need a favour.”

“Lay it on me.”

Scott squirms a little, eyes flitting down to his phone, and not coming up to meet Stiles’ again. It’s cute how Scott still seems to have reservations about asking Stiles for something, as if there’s anything Stiles wouldn’t do for him. Yet, Scott’s moral compass is far straighter than Stiles’, so Scott stalling means it’s something he’s not entirely comfortable asking for. On the other hand, he wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, so Stiles doesn’t have any qualms about it.

“Do you need me to get rid of a body?” Stiles prompts, lifts both eyebrows when Scott starts spluttering indignantly.

“No of course not.” Scott takes a deep breath. “I need this weekend off, so I wondered if maybe you could just work your magic, and blow my boss again?”

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130 notes
Reblogged from bleep0bleep

Anonymous said: Omg I know you're writing a bajillion amazing fics right now, but if you could write a sour skittles fic about the haunted house idea I would be so happy!!! (But I understand if you're too busy!! Keep on being awesome!)


[inspired by darkenednights’ tags on this post]

Derek thinks it’s a stupid idea, he really just wanted to pick pumpkins for carving and then get apple cider, but Stiles saw the sign for the haunted house at the edge of the pumpkin patch, and immediately got excited.

Scott is nervous. “I don’t know, guys, look, they make you sign a waiver and everything, and that couple that just exited the house were, like, crying.”

"It’s not going to be a big deal," Derek says, crossing his arms. "It’s a bunch of lame sets and theater kids jumping out at us in costume. Plus we’ll be going in together, so."

This seems to assure Scott, and Stiles pumps a triumphant fist into the air, shouting, “Yesss!” 

They pay for tickets and sign the waivers, and walk into the attraction, a bored-looking Derek walking in first, Scott in the middle, and Stiles eagerly ambling behind. 

The first hallway plummets them into near darkness, and Stiles for some reason starts narrating. “Our brave heroes make their way into the unknown, the darkness palpable in the air…”

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