In celebration of me never getting anything ever (hahaha *sob*) have a Valentine’s Day comic! Even though Cosmo Magazine is full of crap, I think Derek somehow pulled it off!
♥ Other Derek Hale-themed ideas for the card (and puns): ♥ - Have some chocolate while eyebrows this card - His eyebrows are so thick because that’s where he hides his love - ‘The Wild Hair of Love’ - His eyebrows may disappear when he wolfs out, but his love does not - '3 Hairs Short of a Unibrow: A Timeless Love Story’ - His eyebrows say 'no’, but his dick says 'hella’
Aaaaaand finally, a haiku:
Coarse and strong they sit Like furrows, they sink downward His glare is scary
The trouble with bonfires was that they left one side of you roasting and the other freezing cold. This was the reason Stiles was going to give for stepping away from the celebration - his left ear was a shade only lobsters should be, okay.
Derek didn’t ask for a reason, though, just came down to sit beside Stiles and bump his shoulder companionably. “You’re in my spot. I’m supposed to be the one running away to brood.”
That did bring a small, helpless smile to Stiles’ face. Even with his shitty mood, he could recognize it was a good night. The sky was clear and starry, the grass wet from dew, the first flowers of spring littering the ground around Stiles. He plucked himself a small mound of them, pretty little harmless things that had no magical use.
Really, it’s been a good year, taken in proportions. They were all alive, and Derek was bumping Stiles’ shoulders and making fun of himself. Staying quiet by Stiles’ side, apparently content to watch the rest of the pack party from afar.
Stiles’ hands did their own thing. He didn’t bother to look down until they were done, but when he did, he smiled.
“Here you go,” he told Derek, draping the flower crown over his head. To Derek’s raised eyebrow, he elaborated: “A trophy for your life’s work in brooding. You can go back to the party now, your reputation as champion tortured soul is safe.”
Derek lightly touched the flowers. “Fitting,” he said, deadpan. Stiles cracked up. “Thanks.” But he made no move to get up, even when Stiles made little shooing gestures.
“I like it here,” Derek said eventually, exasperated. “It’s too hot closer to the fire, anyway.”
Stiles nodded and didn’t fail to notice that Derek, unlike the fire, was just the perfect temperature to sit next to.
sterek au: after the extensive mental stress from 3b, stiles falls into a coma for a week and derek is the one who’s with him when he wakes up
He’d almost missed it.
Derek had been in the hospital every day for a week for as long as Melissa would allow before sending him home to get rest. He was pretty sure that the chair he’d been sitting in was now permanently shaped after his butt.
There was something so off-putting about seeing Stiles so still for so long. Derek was used to the flailing limbs and clumsy movements. What was even weirder was going so long without hearing Stiles’s voice.
He never thought there would be a day where he’d say that.
There was no one to call him a “dumb ass”. There was no one making consistent wolf-dog jokes.
There was no one talking to Derek.
That wasn’t true.
There wasn’t a Stiles talking to Derek.
He couldn’t tell you when it happened, when he fell in love with Stiles. He’d been sitting at Stiles’s bedside trying to figure it out for the past week.
When had this human become the center of his universe?
Derek almost missed it.
A slight groan that stirred him from his thoughts. Derek’s eyebrows shot over to Stiles’s face as he watched Stiles finally start to wake.
“Stiles?” Derek asked immediately, jumping out of his chair and leaning over Stiles protectively.
Stiles shifted a moment as his mouth moved before his eyes could even open.
“Hey Sourwolf.” His voice was raspy and Derek barely heard it. But he had heard it. Stiles’s eyes slowly fluttered open and Stiles glanced around his surroundings briefly before his eyes rested on Derek. His lips lifted slightly in small smile. “You miss me?”
Relief hit him like a two-ton brick in the stomach.
Derek released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he fell onto Stiles, resting his head against Stiles’s abdomen. He inhaled deeply as Stiles lifted a hand and ran his hand over Derek’s hair, stroking it kindly.
Derek sighed before looking back at Stiles. “You have no idea.”
Last one! Thank you to everyone who participated in my Pay it Forward project!! Sorry for the late responses on some of these, but I hope everyone enjoyed their holiday season!
“I haven’t seen snow since I was eleven,” Stiles said, nose practically pressed to the huge window in Derek’s loft. Far below, the snow was actually starting to accumulate into a thin layer, with more puffy, white crystals drifting down every moment. Even through the window Stiles knew it was quieter than usual, the roads clear of all but the necessary traffic until the storm passed.
“Used to snow in New York,” Derek said from the couch, not looking up from his book.
Stiles glanced over his shoulder, then back outside. “Guess you’re used to it then.”
“It gets less exciting when you have to drive in it,” Derek told him with a little huff of amusement. “Though I’m sure your Jeep will be better than my Camaro was.”
“Did you spin donuts in it?” Stiles asked. “I bet you did.”
“My sister would have had my ass if I did,” Derek said, finally looking over.
Stiles smiled. “You did.”
Rolling his eyes, Derek smiled as well. “Yeah.”
“I remember the last time it snowed like this,” Stiles said quietly, eyes following various flakes on their way to the ground. “When it was over, the ground was just blanketed in white, and the sun was out, and everything sparkled like a bunch of stars had piled up.”
“Hm,” Derek said thoughtfully, closing his book and laying it on the cabinet beside the couch. “Does that make it all falling stars while it’s snowing?”
“That’d be a lot of wishes,” Stiles said, smirking.
“They’re only little wishes,” Derek said. “Snowflake sized wishes.”
“Like what?” Stiles asked, turning around completely to face him.
“Like… I could wish you’d get rid of that awful blue and orange shirt,” Derek said.
Stiles gave a snort of laughter, because that was never going to happen. He loved that shirt. He loved that shirt more after seeing it on Derek, who was never going to live that down. Ever. “I could wish that you’d get curtains, like a real boy.”
Derek’s nose scrunched. Curtains. Sounded like work. “I could wish I had enough covers you couldn’t possibly steal them all in one night,” he said, managing to keep a straight face.
That amount of covers did not exist, and they both knew it. “I could wish you had more pillows, so I could stop having to bring my own if I stay over.”
“I wish you’d stop just staying over,” Derek said quietly.
That gave Stiles pause, his heartbeat stuttering at the implication. He swallowed, throat clicking in the stillness. “That’s not a snowflake sized wish,” he mumbled, meeting Derek’s eyes.
“There’s a lot of snowflakes out there,” Derek replied. “Maybe if I wish on all of them at once…”
“Do you?” Stiles asked as he stepped over to the couch. “Do you wish that?”
“Yeah,” Derek said, looking up to keep eye contact. “I do.”
“Okay,” Stiles replied. “I’m not- I’m not a shooting star, or even a falling snowflake, but I think… I think I can grant that wish.”