Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV), Disney - All Media Types
23 Apr 2017
For who could ever learn to love a Beast?
Stiles takes his father's place as a Beast's prisoner in an enchanted castle.
Bookmarked by Eligia
22 May 2017
“Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”
“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.
“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.
When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard.
Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.
Bookmarked by Eligia
21 May 2017
Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV)
11 May 2017
Stiles totally needs to make Lydia Martin jealous. Yeah. And his best chance is to convince star lacrosse player Derek Hale to (fake) date him.
Derek doesn’t know how to respond, the boy is…. he doesn’t have the words, but he wants this tiny human to be next to him all of the time. This boy has the most amazing brown eyes, and his little nose. The little brown spots on his face. Derek wants to hug him and never let him go.
Or the one where Stiles and Derek are childhood friends, are mates, and Derek has a thing for Stiles' neck.
“Lay with me,” Stiles plainly stated, as if he asked a menial thing of him.
Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles, observing him carefully as he kept his features stoically guarded. “To touch you is sacrilege,” he finally uttered, unable to completely deny his desire to discover what touching Stiles would be like.
“What they force me to do is sacrilege,” Stiles countered, carefully observing Derek. “What you would do would be divine. You would keep me from being their plaything—taking a key player off the board in their pursuit of corruption. What I’ve asked of you … I’ve already seen it—the phantom touch of it lingering on me afterwards.”