Watching Derek dote on someone is hard – harder than Stiles
thought it would ever be, despite the fact he knows it’s insincere; despite the
fact it’s the job and nothing more.
It’s hard because
Stiles hasn’t had those arms around him in months, hasn’t had opportunity to
arrange a chance meeting on a crowded street in weeks, hasn’t had Derek’s eyes
meet his and watched his mouth curl into a smile for him.
Derek’s team have
been fairly indulgent, letting Stiles tag along on the assignment to observe
and allowing him to blend with various crowds just to be close to Derek. Early
on, before Derek insinuated himself into their mark’s life, they even allowed
them to talk on the phone, but that might as well have been in another
hates his job, hates Derek’s job, hates the fact they’d never have met if it
wasn’t for their jobs because then he can’t hate it as much.
Stiles is across the
restaurant and he can’t tear his eyes away from the back of Derek’s head for
more than a few seconds at a time, usually at the prompting of the agent he’s
sitting across from.
Alright. What are some of your favorite Sterek headcanons, then? :)
ok listen, like i have so many and this is a dangerous question because you have open the floodgates. (also, i’m so sorry that i’m so late to answer these. life is getting in the way!)
derek hale and stiles stilinski fall in love with all of each other
derek likes to chase stiles’ lips when they’re kissing because every single taste of him is addictive and derek’s never felt so much need
stiles likes to trace derek’s tattoo when they’re resting on their bed, his fingers languidly following the lines while he murmurs, “alpha, beta, omega. past, present, future.” and derek will have this gentle smile as he replies, “you’re my future.”
derek’s head automatically turns to stiles’ heartbeat even if he’s in roscoe still heading up the street. he can pick it out of a thousand heartbeats, knowing which one thumps in his ears when he goes to sleep at night
stiles will never miss any opportunity to touch derek
stiles and derek find the most support from the sheriff
when john looks at derek, he doesn’t see an adult werewolf, capable of ripping people to shreds, he sees the same young man who’s eyes were red-rimmed and lost at the station, soot covering his body
stiles sometimes wonders if derek will stop loving him
derek wakes up every morning to make stiles a cup of coffee
they fight a lot. usually it goes something like this, “derek, stop being a self-sacrificing dolt. erica can handle it. allison and lydia are backup. they’ve got this. plus, the rest of the pack is gonna be with them.” “i’m not letting erica walk right into the line of fire. i’m not letting her get hurt.” “you’re so fucking stubborn!”
but they always talk things through, refusing to go to bed angry with one another
i love yous are constantly being shared between them and they never hesitate to say anything to the pack either
Stiles gets up from his place on the couch and puts all the albums away. He walks back to where Derek is still sketching and taps his fingers on the counter to get his attention. When Derek looks up at him with those ridiculous light green eyes, Stiles blurts, “I want you to do me.”
Derek looks stricken for a moment before letting his eyebrows climb up almost to his hairline. He doesn’t say anything, and it takes about three seconds for Stiles to realize what he said.
“Oh my God. No. That’s not what I meant,” he sputters, feeling his cheeks redden. It really wasn’t what he meant, expect that he totally did. “I meant I want you to tattoo me. Not do me. I went through your stuff and I’m seriously impressed, and it’d be an honor to have your art somewhere on my body. Yeah. Right.”
Friend:I don’t even understand why you ship them they’re not even gay or cannon.You seriously have an obsession.
Me:Never fucking speak to me or my 37 opened fanfictions again.This is why you will never find true love, for fucks sake you would’nt recognize it if it was slaping you across the face with a fucking dildo while twerking to some sappy love song screaming”I FUCKING LOVE YOU”in a motherfucking hot dog costume, you closed minded asshat.
just another sterek pic of them doing stuff before going to sleep that nobody asked for but that i still drew bc i need to relax or othervise school will drive me insane ;__; (drawing this and not doing stuff for school might be the biggest reason why i’m runing out of time and panic but THAT’S NOT THE POINT :’D!!)
Derek has had the sun in his eyes for hours, lying sprawled out on his stomach in the center of the big bed, swaying right on the edge of awake and asleep. It’s the sound of light feet padding across the floor that finally drifts him back to the surface of consciousness, giving him a few seconds to remember what year it is before the mattress dips down by his ankles.
“Daddy,” comes a smooth voice, which manages to reach him despite the barrier of sleep. Derek likes to think it’d reach him through anything.
“Mmh,” is his response, forcing half an eye open.
He shifts with a heavy sigh, watching his son crawl up the bed towards him. Once he’s at eye-level with Derek, he simply flops down on his side, resting his little head on the big pillow. What little hair he’s got is in total disarray, standing out in all directions, and Derek lazily reaches out to smooth it out the best he can.