Prompt: Happily Ever After: This challenge is simple. I want a fairytale ending. You can include "Once upon a time" at the beginning or end with "happily ever after" or you can have both if you are writing fic. You can also chose not to use either of these and just go for a fairytale ending. There was so much pain, chaos and strife last season we want to fix that now. We want fairytale endings for everyone! What that fairytale ending is, is completely up to you but the more storybook-like the better. This doesn't have to be canon compliant but has to include an element of fairytale whimsy. 500-750 word limit.
Warnings: Light Bondage, Marriage, Public Sex, Happily Ever After, Nemeton
Deep in the forest, there is a tree in the heart of Beacon Hills wood. Vast and pure, strong and old. It’s roots are broad and snake deep into the earth. It’s depths nobody knows. The tree has been here longer than any living thing and it bleeds magic by the moon’s glow, for it is the heart of the forest.
It is said…
Whomever carves their intertwined emblems into the tree,
forever lovers they shall be
A story every child knows, a story passed down to all.
Today we find our lovers. Fastened to the mighty trunk with red linen. Hands bound and legs spread. The lovers joined and the bottom bred. A fanged howl and a freckled smile. Two lovers joined by kisses and flesh, a hard line of slick and breath.
Marriage rites. Derek holds Stiles’s legs, hitched up around his waist. He feeds himself into Stiles with a hunger fueled by the power of the mighty tree. They kiss and rut, cry out for the moon gods to hear their declaration.
Below Stiles’s back, on the flattest part of the trunk, there is a carved triskele with an S that twines through it’s spirals. Just moments before, Derek carved their marks into the meat of the tree with his claws while Stiles held himself pressed to his back.
“I marry you, I marry you, I marry you,” Stiles chants almost too quiet into his ear. A smile creeps across his mate’s face.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Derek purrs back, and Stiles hums his happiness into the air.
Derek slides into Stiles, calves shaking and fangs extended. They are wet. Wet with sweat. Wet with each others kisses. Stiles’s hands are balled in their restraints. Tied loosely, but efficiently, his body wound with blood red linen, holding him to the tree. Derek’s hands move from the cradle of Stiles’s thighs and travel a path from hips to chest, then down the long line of his arms. He touches Stiles’s palms, silently asking him to open his fist so they can twine their fingers together.
It’s only been minutes since Derek shed them both of their wedding clothes, tied them both to the Nemeton and without preamble fucked up into Stiles’s body. He’s losing himself. Losing control.
Stiles whispers, “let go,” and Derek does. Derek fucks him with all the same intensity that he had the first time he claimed his true love, in this same forest so many months ago.
Their combined moans awaken the magic of the great tree. The full moon high in the sky, the affirmations of love. Thoughts of family and pleasure and mates.
Derek feels their love in his bones. He feels complete and looks Stiles in the eye, sees the bond they share written across Stiles’s face. He thanks the moon gods for giving him his grand match. And with the these thoughts consuming him, he pushes his face into Stiles’s chest, inhales his scent and comes inside his husband with fervency.
Stiles kisses Derek through his climax. Peppers his lips and face with tiny kisses while Derek catches his breath and pulls himself free of Stiles. Stiles’s thighs are a wet mess, and that makes Derek beam.
He starts to undo the knots holding them to the tree.
“Hurry up. I want to make you as messy as you’ve made me,” Stiles teases.
“Not a chance,” Derek answers with a playful smirk. As soon as the linen falls to the ground, Derek grabs Stiles and flips him so his back is painting Derek’s front. He pushes his face into Stiles’s neck, breathes against his ear, rekindling the spark from just moments ago. Derek lays hands on Stiles, coaxing the climax from him, and Stiles spills himself right over their freshly carved letters adorning the great tree.
After, their isn’t much talk, just little giggles and kisses exchanged between redressing. The lovers don’t stop touching and exchanging glances between one another.
As they leave and make way back to their small house at the edge of the woods, both stop and take one last look at the vast tree.
“We’re coming back here again,” Stiles says. “Many, many times. And next time, I’m tying you up to the tree, husband.”
“As you wish,” Derek teases with a quick flash of his eyes.
The magic of the Nemeton was strong that night. Derek and Stiles were blessed with a large beautiful family from their matings at the magical tree. They lived a fruitful, long life together.