“Liam, you little fucker! Are you serious?!” Was the first thing tumbling from your lips that early Monday morning as you peered wide eyed at yourself in the reflective surface of his bathrooms mirror. You didn’t even care that you appeared rough as hell, your hair an unkempt mess from the tossing, the turning, the pillowtalk, the events that occurred prior to pillowtalk or that you remained standing in just your pricey black underwear; the only thing your deep (y/e/c) irises were focused on where the dark purple bruises littering your skin.
"There’s twice as many as last time!“ You huffed out in annoyance, the tips of your fingers running over the skin of your neck and collarbone just like Liam’s lips had done only hours before, tracing the marks heatedly inflicted by your werewolf boyfriend who seemed to had forgotten that the hickeys you leave on him heal and disappear in the blink of an eye, but the ones he left on you clearly did not.
Liam popped his head around the corner and flashed you a fearful look, “What did I do?” Then, his baby blue eyes located the hickeys tainting your skin and he chuckled, “Oh, that,” Stalking closer until you were in reach for him to wrap his arms around your waist and hug you close to his bare chest, he nuzzled his nose into your neck and pressed a feather light kiss to one of the cluttered bruises before mumbling out, “They’re hot though.“
Oh this is the night, it’s a beautiful night And we call it bella notte Look at the skies, they have stars in their eyes On this lovely bella notte. Side by side with your loved one, You’ll find enchantment here. The night will weave its magic spell, When the one you love is near! Oh this is the night, and the heavens are right! On this lovely bella notte!
Derek and Isaac had moved in and you were up to your eyeballs in testosterone. Isaac was sleeping on the couch, Derek in the guest room. You miss your privacy.
You came home late one evening, you had errands to run. You went upstairs, wanting to crash in bed. You opened your door to find Derek in your bed.
“Oh, really?” You crossed your arms and looked at him.
“Isaac’s in my room. I had nowhere to go.”
“Why is Isaac in your room?” You raise an eyebrow.
“He brought some girl home, I don’t know.”
“Derek! Oh my God!” You slipped out the door and swung Derek’s door open. You walked in and leaned on the wall. Isaac looked up at you and groaned.
The girl looked at you blankly. “Can I help you?” She smarted off.
“You can actually. Get out.” You point to the door.
She nudges Isaac. “You’re going to let her talk to me like that?” He shrugs and she pouts.
“I said out. Now.” You slammed the door closed when she left and you looked at Isaac.
“What the hell?” He got off the bed and put his shirt back on.
“Don’t what the hell me, Lahey. Bringing a girl home? To my house?”
“We didn’t even do anything! We were just making out!”
“I don’t care. You still brought her here.”
Derek opened the door and stood behind you.
“This isn’t fair! Scott didn’t care about this stuff!”
You scoff, “Was Scott becoming your legal guardian? No? Then I don’t want to hear it. My house, my rules.”
Isaac huffs and pushes past you, storming down the stairs.
Derek high fives you. “That was good pack-parenting.”
You laugh. “I cannot believe you let him in here with a girl.”
“Sorry. That was bad pack-parenting. He’s done it before so I didn’t really think much of it.”
“He’s done it before? In your room? Derek…he needs his own room.” You sigh.
“I can sleep on the couch.” He shrugs.
“No, stay with me. It’ll be 100% nonsexual. You can handle that right?”
Derek smirks. “Of course I can.”
That day he moved all of his stuff in, you were now sharing a closet with a man who you’d just met. You’d kissed for maybe fifteen seconds, but you just met. “What side of the bed do you sleep on?” He turned and looked at you.
“In the middle…so pick whichever side you want.” You say, moving your clothes over in the closet.
Stiles has been in and out of the house all day. He’s decided that you and Derek are the only ones that can calm him down.
“Why is Jackson such a huge idiot?” He stormed in and sat on your bed.
“All right then..” You muttered before sitting beside him. “What’d he do now?”
“He said that I’ll never be as good of a werewolf as him, so when I got angry he laughed at me. He’s showing off for Lydia.” He grunts.
You roll your eyes. “I just talked to him about this..Stiles don’t let it get to you. If I’m being honest I think that he’s a little worried about you and Lydia. You’re stepping in on his lady, Stiles.” You nudge him and he laughs.
“I don’t mean to…I just can’t help it. She’s just..” He lays back on the bed and groans. “She’s so pretty and she’s got the greatest personality. I just don’t know how she can stand to be with him. He’s a dumb jock, that’s all he is. She’s too smart to be with him. I get her, I get her sense of humor and I get her smart little fun facts. I just really like her, y'know? I do everything I can not to screw up around her and Jackson always makes me look stupid.” He sighs.
Derek joins the two of you on the bed. “I know what you mean. Pretty girls are hard to get over.” He flicked his eyes over to you and smirked.
“Let me give you some advice. If you’re having trouble with Lydia just try being her friend. Don’t try to impress her, or show off, just be her friend. Go out on friend dates with her and Jackson, no matter how much it hurts because that’s going to show that you aren’t around just to get in her pants. It’ll show her you’re trustworthy.” Derek smiles at him.
“I never really have tried being her friend…” Stiles says quietly. He jumped off the bed quickly.
“So, quick question…”
“What?” You look up at him.
“When’s the next full moon?”
“Monday, why? Do you need us?”
Stiles nods, “Okay, thanks guys. I have to go be Lydia’s friend now.” He jogs out of the room and you look at Derek.
“Such a spaz.” He says under his breath and you smack his arm.
“Leave him alone.” You defend the younger boy.
“Fine. Sorry.” Derek throws his hands up on defense, a smile playing on his lips. “Let’s go out tonight.” He looks at you.
“I uh..where?” You stand up, pulling the hoodie you were wearing down.
“Let’s go to a club. You know, where we can drink and not have to worry about teenaged werewolves.” He laughs.
You snort, “That’d be great.”
“It’s a plan?” He asks you.
“It’s a plan.” You repeat, high fiving the much taller werewolf in front of you. You glance at the clock. “That means I should start getting ready. Can you call Isaac and talk to him? He probably won’t answer if I call. Just tell him what’s going on and that he gets his own room now.” You grab your makeup bag as Derek nods. You go to the bathroom, turning music on loudly. You go back to your room to pick a dress out before retreating back to the bathroom.
You finish getting ready and you head downstairs. You find Derek in a tight white button down shirt and dress pants. You feel your breath hitch when you see him. He smirks at you. “I talked to Isaac…are you ready?”
You nod, the both of you going out to his car. You arrive at the club, the line surprisingly short.
“You look drop dead gorgeous. I just thought I’d let you know.” He smirks down at you and you blush.
“You don’t look too bad either.”
You’re standing in line talking when you’re approached by a young girl. “Derek? You’re Derek Hale right?”
Derek turns and looks at her, nodding. “Can I help you?”
“You’re an alpha, right? You know what to do.”
“I’m not exactly sure what you’re asking me.”
“I-I’m pregnant. I think my water just broke. I need help.”
Your eyes go wide and Derek turns to look at you.
“I’m not Derek Hale but I can help you.” You say, stepping out of line. You take the young girls arm.
“I can’t go to the hospital. My mom doesn’t know I’m pregnant. I can’t go.”
Derek takes her other arm. “Let’s get her in the car.”
You help her into the backseat and sit with her. “Derek, take her back to the house.” You arrive at the house and you help her inside, setting her up in Isaac’s room. You take all the sheets off the bed and put a towel down over the mattress protector. You cover her up and sit beside her. Derek stands in the doorway, watching.
“How old are you, sweetie?” You press a cool rag to her head.
She groans, you can see her contracting. You take her hand and let her squeeze. She’s not talking through the contraction so you figure she must be close.
You stand at the edge of the bed. “Is it okay if I look?” She nods.
“I’m fourteen, by the way. I’m pretty sure the baby’s a werewolf too.”
You nod and look under her dress. “Derek, she’s crowning already.” Can you come in here and take her hand.
He nods and comes in, making conversation with the girl.
“Honey, what’s your name?”
“My name’s Brittany.”
“Okay, Brittany..I’m going to need you to push. Can you do that? I’m going to count down from ten and I need you to push while I count.”
She nods and squeezes Derek’s hand.
“1..2..3..push.” She begins pushing and you count down. This goes on for about twenty minutes. “Derek can you get me the blanket on the couch?” He nods and jogs downstairs.
“One more push, Brittany.” She pushes and you hold the baby as it comes out. “It’s a boy.” You smile.
Derek returns and you wrap the baby up. “I need scissors.” He grabs them from the bedside table and you cut the cord, careful not to cut too close.
You hand the boy to Brittany. She cries as she takes him. “Thank you so much. Thank you.”
“Can I get you anything?” You smile at her and she shakes her head.
“I’m okay. Thank you.”
“We’ll leave you be. We’re going to be downstairs if you need us.” She nods and you and Derek leave the rooms.
“So much for going out.” You look at him and he smirks.
“I still got to see you in this hot dress. I found it painstakingly sexy watching you deliver a baby in heels. You’re so badass.” He gives you a once over.
You push him playfully. “Shut up. I’m just doing what I have to.”
Isaac walks in the door and starts to go upstairs. “Ah..wait.” You holler.
“What?” He turns and looks at you.
“You don’t want to go in there. I’m not giving details just don’t go in there. You can sleep down here tonight.”
He groans and flops down on the couch. “Okay..”
You go to the kitchen and sit a bottle of wine on the counter, Derek smirking. “Yeah?” He asks.
“Oh yeah.” You nod and pour you both a glass. You hop up on the counter. “I just delivered a baby. I don’t how these things just casually happen to me.”
Derek laughs. “You get used to it. I was hoping we’d hang out more tonight but…”
“We’re hanging out now aren’t we?” You and give him a sly look.
You spend the rest of the night talking and laughing. You got to know each other better. You’d checked in on Brittany before going to bed but she was asleep.
You’re awoken at 6 a.m by screeching. You groan and get up. Is there a baby in the house? There’s a baby in the house. You walk across the hall to Isaac’s room to check on Brittany and the baby. When you open the door you only see the baby. You pick him up and cradle him. You yawn as he begins to calm down. You carry him to the bathroom to see if Brittany’s there. Nope. You go down to the kitchen to find a note. You read it and you panic. “Derek! Derek, come here!” You heard him get out of bed and come downstairs quickly. You must’ve woken Isaac too because he came shuffling into the kitchen.
Derek comes in looking like an adorable mess. He has no shirt on, just pajama pants and his hair’s sticking up everywhere. “What’s going on?”
You hand him the note. “Brittany left. She left the baby here. She said she doesn’t care what we do with him.” Derek’s eyes meet yours and you can smell the anxiety on him, the baby beginning to scream.
“I for one hate the kid already.”
“Isaac, shut up.” You and Derek say in unison. No one speaks for awhile. You and Derek just stare at each other, having a silent conversation.
Stiles was tipsy, he hadn’t meant to get that way, but he was nervous. It was his big night, his first solo record release party, but he wasn’t in the partying mood.
He knew that he should be mingling, chatting with some of the A List celebrities that Lydia have gotten to the party, but instead he was sitting at the back of the room with a bottle of Jack in one hand. He felt like he was still a new kid on the scene, standing at the back of the room to avoid talking to strangers.
The thing was, he looked every bit the rockstar that he was suppose to be with his artfully mussed hair that made him look like he had spent the day having sex, his jeans that were sinfully tight, his black button down was unbuttoned to show his patch of chest hair, the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
He looked the part and he was tipsy enough to try to play the part, but he knew if he tried to stand up from his spot on the floor he’d fall over and he’d probably say something stupid to the likes of Erica Reyes or Kira, no last name, the two ethereal pop goddesses that Lydia had managed to get in attendance.
“Hey,” A familiar voice said from above Stiles and he closed his eyes. There was no way Derek was here, they hadn’t spoken in months. Stiles didn’t look up, he was sure he was hallucinating. Maybe he had had more to drink than he thought
stiles was covered in dirt and derek’s arm was still bleeding from a fight with the beast of the week but they were happy they were alive and tired of stumbling around their feelings for each other so stiles grabbed derek by his shirt and planted one on him and derek kissed her back so eagerly that scott had to clear his throat three times to get their attention
where were they their first time having sex
the first time derek made stiles come they were in the back of her jeep and she was riding his thigh and it was kind of an accident. she blushed and he grinned and she pushed him over and they rubbed on each other until derek came in his pants like a teenager and his smug smile was gone
stiles if they’re just having sex. when she fingers derek or sucks him off (or both at the same time) he’s so loud that the neighbors have complained
who wakes up first
derek does usually. he’ll go for a jog or start on breakfast on the weekends. during the week stiles gets up first for school and she has to kick derek out of bed to get his butt moving
who performs/receives oral more often
derek. derek loves eating stiles out. if she’d led him he’d stay between her legs all day
who tries new things more often
stiles. she’ll order stuff online and surprise derek with a new vibrator or a dildo or a prostate massager (that was a good time). she’ll steal all of derek’s underwear so he has to wear hers and then grin all smug when he has to wear them over to see scott and derek’s cheeks are red the whole time they’re there. she likes to be tied up and one time they played with ice and she blacked out she came so hard
if they had to choose a third+ person to include who would they include
hmmm. idk i feel like they’d be pretty wrapped up in each other most of the time but maybe they’d tell boyd and erica to join them for a night yeahhh
Details: 5K, rated T Tags: ABO regency AU, established relationship, misunderstandings, mild angst with a happy ending! Summary: Derek had sworn to serve the revolution against Lady Katherine knowing full well that the cost of such treason could be dear. He’d thought he was ready to sacrifice anything for freedom… But he wasn’t counting on the sacrifice being his marriage to Stiles.
Derek attempts to look at ease in the Deatons’ posh manor ballroom, but he can tell he’s failing. It’s convenient that he already has a reputation for being dour at parties. His discomfort tonight is unfortunately founded on concerns beyond his usual distaste for frivolous conversation, though: The resistance’s latest missive had said that another spy would be here to give Derek the location of their storehouse, where he is to deliver the weapons and supplies he has illicitly obtained. Such information in the wrong hands… Derek shudders to think of it.
There are only twenty or twenty-five people at the party, and Derek knows them all by sight, if not by name. High society is frankly incestuous in their small country. Still, he can’t guess who his unknown ally is, or when they will approach him. It’s safer to keep everything as anonymous as possible. Thus far, Lady Katherine has kept up an appearance of having fair trials for the ‘traitors’, but each month the convictions become more of a farce. The flimsiest evidence can lead to an execution, and being implicated by a convicted traitor is more than enough for a death sentence. One captured spy must not be able to give up the entire resistance.
The silver lining of the growing danger is the indication that Lady Katherine feels threatened. That can only mean that the revolution grows closer to success. Derek dreams of the day when the illegitimate Argent will be deposed and Queen Allison crowned in her place. Then, he will be free to return to his life of safety and leisure.
“Can I tempt you to the floor for this dance?” The flirtatious tone rouses him from his dire musings, and Derek turns to see his husband. Despite the circumstances, an entirely genuine smile crosses his face. Around Stiles, one always does.
“I’m afraid not,” Derek says, gentling his tone to take the sting out of the refusal. Stiles’ smile tightens, almost imperceptibly, and he nods graciously. He’s used enough to such rejection, Derek thinks with a pang. He’s used to lonely dinners as well, and going to sleep alone when Derek has late nights, and listening to vague excuses because the real reasons are ones he cannot know. Derek hates to disappoint him, tonight as ever, but he needs to be available for the other operative to pass him the information, not whirling about on the dance floor. The revolution must come first, until Lady Katherine can be imprisoned for her crimes. Derek strives to believe that the day will come soon.
With a brief squeeze of his hand, Stiles leaves Derek standing by the wall to greet Master Deaton by the refreshments table across the parlor. Derek watches with longing, and almost misses the small tug on his pants as a hand slips briefly into his pocket.
Derek freezes, but doesn’t let himself look around until a moment has safely passed, lest he draw attention to the transaction. By then, the other spy is lost in the crowd. Derek shakes his head. Just as well. He knows the danger of recognizing another operative.
Casually, Derek reaches down to feel the stiff, crisply folded paper. The note is burning a hole in his pocket, but he knows he mustn’t draw attention. His uncle Peter is here tonight, a man who has always been eagerly loyal to whoever holds the most power. Derek fears that he already suspects Derek’s true loyalty to Queen Allison. Despite their family ties, his uncle would not hesitate to turn him over in return for greater stature in Lady Katherine’s court.
A hand touches his elbow, and Derek startles a little before he can force himself to relax.
“Are you enjoying the party?” Marin Deaton asks. “Usually an Alpha with an Omega like yours would be spending every moment dancing with him, would he not? Yet I haven’t seen you on the dance floor at all.”
Derek forces a smile. “Sadly, I have been cursed with leaden feet. You must forgive me - even if I’m not sure my husband will.”
“Of course, forgiveness granted,” the lady says graciously. “Though Stiles so loves to dance, that I can’t begrudge him any resentment. Shall I ask him for a turn myself, and keep us both entertained?”
“Please do,” Derek encourages, though it’s the last thing he wants. Now his perfect husband’s attention will be given to Miss Deaton, even after the note has been successfully passed and Derek is free to enjoy his company.
Truthfully, he’s surprised even now that Stiles chose him, a man known best for his taciturn introversion and snappish misanthropy, over all the eligible Alphas that had vied for his hand. Yet for some unfathomable reason, he had. At times, Derek wonders if he’s given him cause to regret the decision; Times like now, when he can’t even spare his husband a dance.
On the other hand, Derek thinks, maybe it is a blessing in disguise to have a moment to himself. The location of the rebellion’s stores is a delicate enough secret that the note had to be passed directly, but Derek’s reply will only be a date and time for his delivery, which can be left at his usual drop point. He’s not supposed to read missives from the rebellion outside the privacy of his study, but… With a new round of dancing beginning, he can easily sneak away to be alone. If he reviews the note and writes his reply now, he can easily have the driver make an extra stop on their way home and be finished with it.
“It’s our first day in the field, big deal. It’s not even the actual field..it’s a literal field.” You shrug and look over your shoulder at your best friend Stiles. He adjusts his trainee badge pinned to his belt loop. “I know..I just thought it’d be more exciting.” He says and jogs towards you, walking beside you.
“I bet $20 I make more headshots than you.” You look up at him and smirk.
“Oh, you’re on.” He grins and you two run towards the field. You’re deep in conversation, the two of you building off of each other’s sarcasm.
“Y/L/N! Stilinski! Get over here now!” The chief yells. You both run over and he tosses you both a gun. You catch your and examine it. You glance over at Stiles fumbling with his. He drops it and rubs the back of his neck, the chief rolling his eyes.
“Stilinski.” He grits his teeth and Stiles picks it up immediately. The chief points behind him toward the range.
“Yep yep. Going. The range. Going to the range.” Stiles says before jogging towards the range.
“How do you deal with that spastic young man?” The chief asks you.
You shrug. “With a lot of patience and sarcasm.”
He looks deep in thought. “Makes sense. Now get to the range.”
You nod. “Yes, sir.” You walk over to where Stiles is standing.
“Thanks for making me deal with that.” You whisper and he smiles.
“Oh you’re definitely welcome.” He says quickly as he loads his gun.
You cringe and step back. “Stiles, be careful.”
“What? I know what I’m doing.” He waves the gun around as he talks.
“Stilinski. Watch it!” You yell as you duck to avoid the gun being aimed at you.
He squints at you. “Yeah..” He sighs as he put the safety back on. “I’ll be careful.”
“You trying to kill me?” You laugh and open your arms.
“I mean…I’d kill for you.” He smiles.
“Like, I’d kill someone for you or like ‘man I’d kill to go on a date with her.” You smirk.
“The latter..but if you want the truth, I’d do either?”
“You ain’t clownin’?” You grin, his face lighting up as you say your inside joke.
“I ain’t clownin’.” he laughs. “But honestly, I’d kill to go on a date with you.”
“Technically, you and I are partners so we’re always on a date.” You throw your hands up.
“Yeah..I guess you’re right. Considering we live together too.”
“Yeah..” You say, scratching your chin playfully. “I’d have to say we’re on a perpetual first date.”
After the field work you and Stiles head home.
You unlock the door and walk in. “I desperately need a shower.” You sigh, putting your keys on the counter.
“Dibs!” Stiles shouts, shoving past you, he runs to his room to grab a towel.
“No!” You chase after him, taking a sharp turn into the bathroom. You look the door and smirk to yourself.
He knocks on the door. “Y/N, come on. I called dibs.”
You were already peeling your shirt off. “You can’t call dibs on something I suggested. For myself.”
“Pleaaaaaase….” He whines.
You unbutton your pants and take them off, adding them to the pile of clothes in the corner.
“No. Leave me alone.”
You hear him sigh. You’re going to have to go back to your room wet and naked, but what’s a girl to do when her shower’s being threatened? You step under the water, the hot stream on your back making you sigh with relief. Your banter with Stiles always made you think he had a thing for you, even though he never acted upon it. He had endless opportunities and never even tried.
You step out, squeezing the water out of your hair before unlocking the door. You step out, looking both ways for Stiles before running across the hall to your room. You hear him talking to a girl in the living room.
“Hey, Y/N?” He yells.
“What?” You respond, already drying your hair with a towel.
“Did you just run across the hall naked?” He says. You can hear the smirk on his lips.
“Possibly. Maybe. Yeah…why?” You feel your cheeks heat up.
“Just thought I’d check.”
You get dressed and come out, a red-haired girl sitting on the couch with Stiles. She has her hand on his leg, smiling at him.
“There’s the naked lady of the hour!” Stiles laughs.
“Shut up. If I’d have gotten a towel like you I wouldn’t have gotten my shower.” You sit in the recliner and cover with a blanket.
He chuckles and looks to the girl. “Lydia, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, this is Lydia Martin.”
You lean forward and shake hands with her. “You’re the Lydia Martin. Wow.” You smile. “You’re a living legend according to Stiles.”
She laughs. “According to everyone.”
The three of you sit and talk for awhile before you decide to head to bed. You felt weirdly sad. She had a lot of interest in him and he always talked about how great she was. Maybe he still has a thing for her.
You groan loudly and fall into your bed. You lie there for what feels like hours, trying not to think about Stiles.
You hear footsteps out your door and you try to listen. “That’s her?” You hear Lydia say.
“Yeah…just please don’t say anything. Okay? I just..I don’t want to screw this up.” You hear Stiles respond.
“My lips are sealed.”
You don’t hear anything else besides Stiles’ bedroom door opening and closing. You get out of bed and go to the living room. You throw your hair up in a bun and turn a movie on, eventually falling asleep.
You’re awoken by Stiles’ soft voice, his hand caressing your cheek. He’d covered you with a blanket when he woke up. You fluttered your eyes opened and looked at him, immediately squinting when you saw the light pouring in from the window.
“You look adorable.” He smiles.
“God, what time is it?” You sit up and sigh.
“We have to be at school in 30 minutes.” Stiles looks at the clock.
“What? Why didn’t you get me up earlier?” You jump off the couch.
“You looked peaceful.” He shrugs and you run to your room, rushing to get ready.
Stiles pokes his head in your room as you button up your shirt. “Is it okay if Lydia stays here while we’re gone?”
You shake your head and walk out, grabbing your keys. “Nope that’s fine.”
You both go out to the car and go to school. You’re back out on the field again. You run through the same routine before going to the lounge to change.
Stiles is scratching his arm viciously.
“Stop, you’ll draw blood.” You look at him over your shoulder.
“It itches. I think something’s wrong.” He continues to scratch.
You examine his arm. There’s welps up his forearm.
He looks down at them and grimaces. “Oh God…just cut it off. It’ll help.”
“Stiles, it’s a mosquito bite.” You deadpan.
“I just wanted one of those cool robot arms.” He sighs as he scratches.
You pull his hand away and rub the spot for him, making him groan. Which, in turn turns you on just a bit. You continue to rub his arm. “You’re serious? Well, where would you even get one?”
He looks at you adoringly, thankful for your help. “There’s this guy on Craigslist.” He shrugs.
“You’re such a dork.” You laugh. “Let’s get you home, I’ll put cortisone on it.” You smile.
You head home and you go inside, straight to the bathroom. You return with the cortisone. Stiles smiles and rolls his sleeve up.
You’re rubbing it on his arm when Lydia walks in. “How was school?” She smiles.
Stiles answers and you close the lid to the cream, pulling his sleeve down. “Better?” You look up at him.
He nods. “Thank you. I was legitimately hoping we could cut it off though.”
“Oh, I know. Trust me, I know you very well.” You smile and turn, putting the cream down.
He smiles at you, a look in his eyes that makes your stomach twist in excitement. “Thank you. I really mean that.”
“Not to uh…burst your little thankful bubble..but, I just put anti-itch cream on a mosquito bite.” You laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up. Why were you blushing?
“I know.” He flicks his eyes over to Lydia and she smirks.
Later that night you’re spread out on the couch with Stiles, your legs in his lap. “So…you and Lydia?” You raise an eyebrow at him. It’s better to know about them now rather than later.
“What about us?” He rubs his hand on your leg.
“Do you still have a thing for her?”
He laughs. “God no.”
“Well…she seems to be into you, so I thought…” You pull the blanket you two are sharing up around your shoulders.
“I’m gay.” Lydia walks into the room, a smile on her face.
“Oh…Stiles had said you guys were a thing.”
“Yeah, we were. I’d been with a lot of guys to convince myself I was straight but when I met Stiles’ ex-girlfriend I’d kinda decided to embrace it.”
You nod. “Ex-girlfriend?” You look at him.
“She’s talking about Malia. I’ve told you about her. They’ve been dating for about a year.”
“That means you turned two girls gay.” Lydia laughs as she sits with the two of you.
You laugh. “God, that has to be a record. Not only did you turn two girls gay, but they’re dating each other.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “They were in love before I even dated Malia. Besides, you aren’t gay are you?” He smiles and lifts you up, pulling you onto his lap.
“Last time I checked, no.” You look into his eyes.
“Hey, I called for Chinese, I’m going to see if they’re here.” Lydia gets up and exits through the front door.
“Y/N…” Stiles smiles and pushes your hair out of your face.
You lean into his hand. “Yeah?”
“I’m in love with you.” He whispers.
Your heart flutters and you grin. “I’m in love with you too.”
He presses his lips to yours before leaning back. “Remember that bet about headshots?”
“Yeah?” You smile.
“You still owe me 20 bucks.” He kisses you again, making you giggle.
Check out part one HERE, hope you enjoy it, my lovelies
Stiles calls Derek two days later to inform him the betony is ready for pick up. It had been draining, Stiles had stayed late the night Derek had left, setting up planters and putting the soil in, soft and airy to encourage the plant’s growth. The plants had grown in increments, but far faster than what was normal for nature with Stiles gently coaxing them along with soft utterings of Celtic blessings and a touch of his nymph magic.
“Your betony is ready for pick up,” Stiles says past a yawn that sneaks up on him.
“I’ll be over in twenty.” And without a word more the line goes dead. Stiles busies himself with various tasks around the shop while he waits, picking up the slack that accumulates when he gives Scott and Erica the day off. The shop is quieter and he listens to the rustling of the plants as they move in the soft breeze let in by the open window.
Only fifteen minutes have past when a blue pickup truck pulls up in front of Stiles’ shop. He looks up from his watering, ready to make a comment about Derek’s overzealous promptness when he spots someone new in his shop’s doorway.
“Hi, welcome to Thistle Do Nicely. Can I help you?” The woman in the doorway is middle aged and has a rigid way of walking with her back upright. She ignores him for a moment, observing the dahlias near the front of the shop before looking up to meet his eyes. There’s something here that Stiles doesn’t like.
“I’m sure you could. I’m looking for a very special kind of plant, aconite?” Something about the woman is setting his magic on edge and he concentrates on keeping himself balanced, not allowing it to take a physical appearance.
“I’m not sure we have that here,” Stiles says, keeping his smile from earlier in place. He has no other reason but his uppity magic to believe there is anything wrong with the woman, but his magic has never lead him wrong before. It also didn’t help the logical side of his brain to notice that this was twice in the span of three days that someone has requested a flower with magical attributes.
“I am in good standing to believe you are capable of obtaining some?” The woman walks further into the shop, glancing at the different flowers as she goes. Stiles has to resist the urge to take steps back as she gets closer.
“I could, but you would have to wait a few days for the order to be filled. Typically four to five business days,” Stiles tells her, returning to his watering until he’s satisfied with how the lilies are looking before retreating back to his counter.
“I will need them by tomorrow.” Suddenly the woman is right in front of the counter and Stiles nearly jumps out of his skin.
“I’m sorry but I can’t do that, ma’am.”
“I’m sure you could,” she pushes, leaning over the counter in a way that feels vaguely threatening. Stiles can feel the coolness drip down his fingers, signalling his shift to his nymph form, ready to do what he has to to get this woman to back the hell up when Derek burst through the front door.
“Is there a problem, Melinda?” Derek stalks forward, that’s the only way Stiles can describe it. If Stiles had thought Melinda was intimidating, watching Derek stride through the shop with his eyebrows furrowed and his top lip looking seconds away from lifting in a snarl must be a whole new level of terrorizing.
“Not at all, Derek, dear. Just in need of some floristry,” Melinda says airily, looking unaffected but Derek’s very sudden appearance right behind her.
“I’m sure there are other shops in the county,” Derek down right growls. At first, when Derek had walked in, Stiles had felt the tension in his shoulders give way into a sort of relief. But now he isn’t too sure and his magic certainly isn’t down to letting the man stand up for and then possibly turn on Stiles. He lets the cool feeling slip down his fingers and feels the magic syphon from the plants around them and into his system, giving him a power boost.
“I’m sure there are, but I doubt any of them are run by a forest spirit,” Melinda smirks, keeping her eyes on Stiles. Never one to be easily shut up or stunned into silence, huffs in exasperation before planting (ha, planting) his nymph form hands on the counter.
“I prefer woodland nymph, if we’re gonna be politically correct.” Stiles can’t help but smirk as Derek stares at the green veins of chlorophyll that run up and around his wrists and disappear below the normal skin of his forearms.
“I’ve known your kind to be more demure,” Melinda drawls breaking the moment between he and Derek.
“Oh ho ho, you are in for one hell of a surprise, lady,” Stiles snorts, crossing his arms and letting his nymph form fade back to human skin.
“It doesn’t matter. Now, as I was saying before the mutt interrupted,” Stiles’ gaze snaps back up to look at Derek and oh, that was a flash of blue eyes, he’s a werewolf. That explains the need of aconite. So, the betony must be for Melinda.
“You want wolfsbane that I have already told you I’m not willing to provide,” Stiles interrupts, raising a hand to stop her. He watches as sparks dance across her shoulders and her face contorts in anger.
“Listen here, you ignorant little tree dweller -”
“I believe he has refused you business,” Derek growls, a full-blown-without-a-doubt-supernatural growl that shakes through the air. It throws a shiver down his spine but he keeps his eyes locked on Melinda while she tries to pretend the noise doesn’t worry her.
“I apologize, Mr. Stilinski, I guess I will be looking for my needs elsewhere.” And without further ado she vanishes as if she was never there.
“What. The FUCK!” Stiles shouts, arms flaring into his nymph form when he slams them down on the countertop and he watches out of the corner of his eye as the plants near him grow and tremble. Derek stands and watches as Stiles brings his breathing back down to normal and his arms fade back to skin.
“I really hope you don’t do that every time you get mad, makes it hard to lay low,” the man scoffs, causing Stiles to look up sharply and flash angry amber eyes, in no way helping his case. He could feel the pinch in his ears that means his ears are shifting as well, becoming pointed and angled.
“Shove off, fuzzball. You weren’t the one threatened on your turf and is still being visibly threatened by a fucking werewolf, So, excuse me for my magic being a little defensive,” Stiles snarks heavily.
“I’m not threatening you,” Derek says, eyebrows scrunching in a way Stiles refuses to acknowledge as adorable. Stiles’ raises his in response and makes a point of looking down at Derek’s hands where he’s shifted his claws.
“I think that gnarly manicure begs to differ.” Derek looks down and quickly curls his hands into fists when he notices the problem.
“My wolf is defensive because it failed to notice that you were magic, it’s on edge,” Derek says, maybe a little petulantly. He takes a step back and Stiles almost coos at how the tips of his ears flush in embarrassment but manages to tamp it down,
“Well, this has been nice, buddy o’ pal, but I think I’m done with this little supernatural neighborhood round up, so if you would please see yourself out now-”
“You’re not safe here,” Derek says, embarrassment gone and back to the gruff, antisocial commands of before.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed when I was threatened not three minutes ago,” Stiles says, eyes wide as he leans in with mock surprise.
“She’s going to come back, people don’t just refuse her.”
“We’re you not actually here for that? ‘Cause I’m sure I was very clear when I did reject her.” Derek rolls his eyes and crosses his arms making Stiles huff, “Weren’t you suppose to cut me off? I thought we had a pattern going there, big guy, but now that’s just out the window I guess. It would have been nice to know I wouldn’t be stopped, ‘cause I said all that really fast so that I could say it all and -”
“Are you done?” Derek interrupts, making Stiles glare again and he spots it - just the barest hint of a smile before it’s gone and the dead seriousness settles back over his handsome features.
“So let me rephrase this - no one rejects Melinda Edwin,” Stiles’ breath catches in his throat, “Leader of the Edwin Coven.”
“I am in deep shit,” Stiles’ breathes out, dropping his head onto the counter in front of him and smacking his forehead with it a few times for good measure. The Edwin Coven were a group of witches hailing all the way from Salem where they ruled with an iron hand and held a severe grudge against the descendants of those that lead the infamous witch trials. They were known for their ruthlessness while hunting down those who cross them and the underhanded ways they tend to take their revenge.
“That’s one way to put it,” Derek confirms.
“Alright, thanks for the info,” Stiles looks up from his arms cheerily, pushing out from behind his counter and starts shoving at Derek. “Guess you can leave now, I’ve had my fill of surly werewolf for the day. See you again never.”
“Stiles,” Derek growls, “I’m not leaving.” As if to make himself clear, he stomps his feet firmly and suddenly Stiles is trying to move a brick wall and not just a 200 pound man.
“Yes. You. Are.” Stiles grunts, punctuating each word with a push to Derek’s unfairly firm shoulders.
“I forgot how entertaining human strength is,” Derek huffs smugly.
“But I’m not human,” Stiles says, backing up and smiling sharply. Derek has the decency to look concerned.
Melinda was right, nymphs were typically known as some of the quietest of the supernatural. They kept to themselves, avoided conflict and tended to the plants. But Stiles had learned a long time ago that he didn’t really fall into that stereotype. He moved too much, spoke too much, was just too much. He didn’t find himself in the category of unassuming, but that was okay because most expected it when they heard “woodland nymph” and if Stiles was anything, it was unexpected.
“Stiles,” Derek says his name lowly, a warning just barely laced with a growl that manages to just egg Stiles on.
With a twist of his wrist, vines from his wisteria flowers shoot out from their baskets and wrap around Derek’s arms and the hedera ivy slithers out from the pots Stiles keeps on the ground and strap around Derek’s ankles effectively immobilizing him. Derek tugs at his restraints and Stiles can feel it in his fingers as if he were holding the vines himself.
“I have gone nearly three years without incident and I refuse to break that streak now because of some territory dispute between Hogwarts rejects with a vendetta and some puppies.” Stiles says, moving towards Derek. When he’s close he pokes him in the chest, “So, you will leave and I don’t want to see you ever again. Got it?” Derek snarls, fangs lengthening and sideburns growing.
“You might wanna put away the mutton chops, buddy, I’m about to toss you out on your ass,” Stiles says cheerily.
“Don’t you da-”
“Bye, Derek.” And with that, a vine flings open the shop door and Derek is tossed out like week old trash with the door slammed behind him. Stiles turns on his heel and hums while he goes about closing shop for the night.