Stiles, Laura, and Derek go to the diner and there is love and apple pie.
—
The diner was full of people Stiles could almost recognize. People who could have been part of the high school lacrosse team, older brothers and sisters to some classmates of his in the sixth grade. Laura waved at some of them halfheartedly, and Derek didn’t even try.
“You know them?” Stiles asked the Hales as they sat in an empty booth, Laura and Stiles on one side, and Derek on the other. There had been only one; apparently the diner was the place to be on a Saturday night. He was talking about a group of girls and boys clustered over two booths at the opposite side of the diner who kept glancing over their shoulders at them.
Laura shrugged. “I went to public school for elementary before we all started at West Prep.”
West Prep was a private school that was at least half an hour’s drive away. They had uniforms and Wednesday chapel service.
“All of you?” Stiles gaped. He couldn’t imagine the kind of money involved in sending all the Hale children there. He knew from the news reports that Laura and Derek had survived, but their three cousins had not.
“Dad was friends with the Dean,” Derek explained without shame. “It’s a good school.”
“Do you still go there?” Stiles eyed him quizzically. It didn’t seem like Derek still went to school. It seemed like he had grown from sixteen to twenty-three overnight, like the fire had burned the child right out of him. It probably had, in a way. Stiles certainly didn’t feel like he was twelve.
Derek said, “Taking a leave,” and nothing else. It seemed like a sore point, like a vulnerability, so Stiles did his best not to dig into it.
“Okay,” he said, even though he wanted to ask more.
1 day ago with notes (4)
foldedpinup replied to your post: I have complicated/highly specific fanfiction wants. :| Like Dom!Stiles and Sub!Derek, but still with bottom!Stiles. /sigh
I JUST WANT TOPPING FROM THE BOTTOM TO HAPPEN, OKAY.
Here have a little bit:
“Go slow,” Stiles says, Derek’s cock twitching at the strain he can hear in his voice at maintaining control. He’s balanced over him on his elbows, fitted into the v of Stiles’ thighs, and he nudges, slow, just like Stiles said, into the tight wet heat of him. He feels amazing, and Derek groans, even though Stiles had said, “I don’t want to hear you yet.”
Stiles tightens the silk slip of a tie around Derek’s neck in warning - he has the end of it wrapped securely in his fist - enough pressure for his reflexes to come into play, pulse ratcheting and breath quickening at the threat of the noose around his neck. Derek presses his lips together, smothering out the sound of his groans, and keeps pushing.
Stiles’ mouth falls open and he tilts his head back, baring his throat, but Derek doesn’t dare graze his teeth against the vulnerable skin there, not yet, not until Stiles asks - tells - him to. After what seems like hours, he’s pushed as far as he can, and their chests are pressed together with the sweat between them mingling and slick.
“You’re doing so well,” Stiles praises him. “So good for me.” His voice is a little broken, a little raw, like he’s all burned up from the inside, and it makes Derek swell with pride and awe and something else that seems dangerous, because he’s the one who’s responsible for that blissed-out scratch in Stiles’ voice.
.
2 days ago with notes (7)
derek and laura missed stiles. so they kidnap him. sort of.
—
The school gave him and Jackson detention for a week. They suffered together in reluctant togetherness after school, and Stiles had to miss his weekly appointment with Dr. Hayes.
His Dad had been angry for about 2 seconds. Maybe less. He’d taken one look at his son sitting hunched in the principal’s office and deflated. Technically, Stiles was grounded, but there weren’t many people around who could ensure that.
2 days ago with notes (6)
laura feeds stiles, he gets a haircut, and scott and jackson make cameos.
—
Laura drove them to the next block of stores over, and they went through a drive-through for some curly fries and strawberry milkshakes. They ate them in her car, and Stiles told her the entire plot with necessary dialogue of the most recent book he was reading, which was about a group of friends who were taking a trip to bring their recently-passed friend’s ashes to a place that shared his name.
“Sounds kiddy,” Laura said with a mouthful of fries. She slurped at her milkshake loudly and put the car into drive. Stiles wanted to tell her to keep both hands on the wheel, but Laura seemed pretty adept at driving with her elbows.
“It’s not kiddy,” Stiles protested, offended. “It’s about grief and stuff.” The fries today were super salty. He stuffed at least five into his mouth.
“Did Liz tell you to read it?” She turned sharply at an intersection and Stiles nearly lost his milkshake to the swerve.
“No. I told her to read it.”
“Aren’t you a big man,” Laura crowed. They pulled into the parking lot of the office complex, a grid of spaces in front of a standard four-floor grey building. She turned on the radio but shut off the engine and cracked some windows. The music blasted from her speakers, and they ate like that, comfortable to let the music take over.
5 days ago with notes (4)
Loving this series! I think you’re capturing young!Stiles really well.
Thank you, Cupcake. Glad you are enjoying it :)
Will post more over the weekend~
6 days ago with notes (0)
and then Laura was like, hey i want in.
—
There was this one time Stiles spoke to Laura Hale in the Comic Bookz Store on Main on a Wednesday after school. He’d been 10 and his Mom was waiting outside in her car for him. A tall, leggy brunette tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey, kid,” Laura Hale greeted. Her eyes were light and beautiful and reminded Stiles of a cloudless sky. “What are the merits of Spider-Man versus The Incredible Hulk, also their female counter-parts? I’m picking up an issue for my brother.” She held up two new, crisp issues of each title and smiled at him. Stiles came up to her shoulder.
“Well,” he said. “This one time Spider-Man stopped a bank robbery from happening by pretending to be able to actually conjure spiders.”
6 days ago with notes (9)
ALAHSBAVJFKDJDJDDHSK. You can’t just stop there!
I didn’t! I wrote more.
1 week ago with notes (1)
somehow stiles offends derek by breathing
—
He had a panic attack two and a half weeks prior, in the middle of science class. Scott had been sitting next to him. The teacher had to call someone up to escort Stiles out of the room because she couldn’t allow any students to be responsible for someone else’s life, and Stiles certainly felt like he was about to bite it.
These were his thoughts proceeding the attack:
Sugar snap peas are kind of tasty, he guessed. He could pick some up the next time they went grocery shopping and put some into the salads he was going to start making his Dad eat. Maybe he would try to re-gift the casseroles. Round or wrinkled? The Punnett Square demanded an answer. Tall or short? There were sugar snap peas in their small garden in the backyard. Also, tomatoes. When was the last time they were watered? All the plants in the garden were going to whither and die. His Dad didn’t eat enough vegetables. He was tired all the time. Maybe he needed to go home to water the plants.
His chest was on fire. His head felt like a balloon that was going to pop. Someone put a paper bag in his hands. “Breathe,” the nurse said. “Into the bag.”
1 week ago with notes (9)
I’m torn between shouting at you until you write more and putting my pillow over my face to block out all the hurts.
I respond better when threatened.
1 week ago with notes (0)
i did a thing where stiles’ mom just died and his dad takes him to a psychiatrist and this psychiatrist happens to be seeing derek, too.
—
There was something beautiful in seeing another person’s sadness, Stiles thought. Something raw and intimate, because here was this vulnerability, this open wound, and there was nothing to cover it, now, and they were trusting everyone else not to make it worse. Sometimes it was made worse, though.
Usually unintentionally. He didn’t think his own personal sadness was very beautiful. It festered.
“You are an unusually eloquent twelve-year-old, Mr. Stilinski,” Dr. Hayes informed him. It was their second meeting; the first had been with Stiles’ dad, after a round-robin of meetings while they searched for the right psychiatrist. All the other ones had been men. Stiles hadn’t wanted his psychiatrist to be a man. Stiles thought about it and reasoned that this was probably on account of his Mom recently dying of cancer.
1 week ago with notes (7)