corbeille



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    A lifetime of dealing with the supernatural has prepared Stiles for a lot of things. He can totally run a mile in seven flat, he can dress his own wounds with nothing more than a half-shredded t-shirt and one of the alcohol packets he always keeps in his jeans, and he once hot-wired Derek’s camaro using only a ballpoint pen. He’s like MacGyver, but for things that go bump in the night. He’s so used to the weird and bizarre, in fact, that he was even relatively able to roll with the punches when “a werewolf and a mage walking into a nudist colony” became his actual life instead of the start of a dirty and undoubtedly hilarious joke.

    Nothing, however, could have prepared him for this.

    Derek is three feet to his right, naked as the day he was born, and he is beaming.

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    01 Oct 2017

  2. Rec *

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    “Dude, you should totally come with me.”

    “What? Like on the road trip?"

    “No, come with me. To Austin. Get out of Beacon Hills.”

    Derek paused. “What?” he asked again.

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    19 Sep 2017

    Bookmarker's Notes

    Therapy and distance

  3. Rec *

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    “So, you’re the host,” the kid says, glancing at Derek under long lashes. He angles his body closer, more than appropriate for casual conversation.

    “I don’t remember inviting you,” Derek says, leaning in too, pretending it’s so he doesn’t have to shout to be heard over the pulsing beat of the music. “And I would remember.” Derek lets his fingers skim over the small of the other man’s back, just to see if he can.

    “Oh, you need an invite to get into these shindigs?” Stiles asks with a teasing grin that seems to draw them into some kind of confidence. “I hear just about anything goes at Derek Hale’s parties.”

    Derek curves his mouth into a flirtatious smile, because it's something a spoiled rich boy thinking with his dick would do. “True, but I do like to know who’s doing the ‘anything’.”

    -

    Derek is Batman, Stiles is Cat...dude? Uh, he's the Cat Thief, let's go with that. They bone, okay? But first they angst about it.

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    05 Sep 2017

  4. Rec *

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    Stiles is basically doing fine. He's surviving, anyways. So what if it's a struggle to get out of bed most days? Back in high school, everything about the supernatural had seemed edgy and romantic and exhilarating, but after seeing everything he has, wanting to go back to ignorance is only natural. Only then Derek comes back to Beacon Hills and says he's in love with him, and everything changes.

    For the worse.

    -----------------

    Stiles catches himself at the last minute and blinks hard, as if that might change the fact that, yes, the person sliding onto the stool next to him is Derek Hale. He’s more than back in Beacon Hills, he’s right at Stiles’ elbow. And fuck if the unbidden reaction to that doesn't feel like a return to high school: the palpable uptick in his pulse, the anxious desire to be funnier, louder, and brighter balanced with the feeling that he’s already the best version of himself when he’s got this man’s attention on him.

    Derek is smiling, his kaleidoscope hazel eyes flitting intently over Stiles’ face in a searching examination of his features. Stiles can feel his mouth pulling into a wide grin. It’s Derek. Derek’s back.

    “Hey, hi,” he says. “Hey there.”

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    04 Sep 2017

  5. Rec *

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    This fic came about because of this discussion of kinkshaming (I say discussion. I mean glorious rainbow of Derek Hale being the saddest werewolf in the world.) in which it was decided that Derek would have the most innocuous kinks and the biggest feelings of shame about them. Cue Stiles, the most cheerfully adventurous college freshman ever to sleep with two sets of identical twins in a night.

     

    Things get better. Actually, they don't. He just gets better at picking people who don't talk. He does just about enough to get himself off, makes sure they come too. He leaves before the morning, goes for a long run afterwards and doesn't end up topless in a fountain. Which is an improvement.

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    22 Jun 2017