Teen Wolf AU à la 10 Things I Hate About You: In which Isaac wants to date Cora, but she isn’t allowed to go out with anyone until her older brother Derek, who is well known in school for his less than stellar social skills and nonexistent interest in dating, has found someone as well. So they develop a plan to pay someone - Stiles Stilinski, to be precise - to take Derek out. None of them really expected it to work, and much less for Derek and Stiles to actually fall in love with each other…
giveaway prompt fill for howlingteenwolf
teen wolf crossovers :: [brooklyn 99]
agent derek hale.
Are we not gonna talk about Isaac’s being out of the board?
#no b/c i’m way more interested in the sunchips left out#the nogitsune getting distracted from Evil Plans by an unopened bag of sunchips in stiles’ room#ends up hanging around longer than intended just eating chips#PROBABLY IS EATING SUNCHIPS IN THE LOFT RIGHT NOW WHILE IT WAITS#they probably track it by the lingering scent of#EVIL#CHAOS#AND SUNCHIPS#after they do—whatever at the loft#derek looks around his loft and finds crumbs EVERYWHERE#he probably doesn’t even own a vacuum cleaner (via whittenomore)
His profile is so perfect I can’t even believe that it’s real.
this must be what tumblr looks like irl
this is exactly what tumblr looks like irl
shipping is disgusting you should all be ashamed of yourselves
You do realize that placing your hand on someone’s else neck (not shoulder!) is actually a pretty intimate gesture?
who wants to talk to me about the time that Derek catches Stiles opening himself up?
when Derek slips in to find Stiles shoving those long fingers into himself, panting and frustrated and greedy even with three of them buried deep.
Stiles is so caught up he doesn’t notice, just rocks back to his knuckles, skin flushed red all over, cheeks blazing, his forehead pressed to the wall cause he’s so busy fucking himself—holding himself open for his own fingers to slide in slick and rough. He makes noise like he’s in an empty house, like he’s never had to worry the neighbors will hear, high-pitched and pleading, and so, so strained.
Every cry is choked, dry, like he’s been at this for hours. Like the red of his hole around his knuckles isn’t enough of a clue. It’s like he can’t get enough.
Like he can’t get it right.
Derek’s never been strong enough to walk away when he should. He’s not sure who’s more surprised when his knees hit Stiles’ mattress, when he stalks across the ruined sheets like the predator he is, and Stiles just gulps dryly, throat sticking, mortification crawling with a darker flush across his skin, and Derek—
Derek just wants a taste.
"You’re so close," Derek says, chasing that blush with his nose. His teeth. It’s nothing like a question. “Just look at you," he says, breathless like a run can never make him.
Stiles stutters his name, curls forward, pushes into the sudden cup of Derek’s palm. He doesn’t pull away.
If he could, Derek would laugh, if he had enough breath he’d howl. Instead he twists Stiles’ wrist, pushes his thumb under the wet head of Stiles’ dick, and says, “Like this.”
There’s one more shove of Stiles’ long fingers, maybe two, Derek taps his thumb, whispers, “come like this and I’ll fuck you through the next one, stretch you like you’ve never imagined you could.”
Stiles comes a whole three thrusts later, mewling, with Derek’s teeth in the long curve of his neck, and Derek hopes he knows that Derek’s not letting go.
Give me all the Derek and Kira BFF fics where they get together, eat pizza, and talk about their boyfriends. And Derek gets advice on what to get Stiles for his birthday and Kira can ask questions about some of Scott’s more werewolf-y kinks. And then they get a little competitive over who has the more badass powers and when Stiles and Scott get back from their bro-time, all the lightbulbs have exploded and there are footprints on the walls from Derek doing backflips.
THIS. THIS IS ALL I WANTED IN LIFE. AND I KNOW, BECAUSE I SAID SO ABOUT TWO WEEKS AGO. THANK YOU TUMBLR GODS, THANK YOU.
Keira Knightley: The Chronicles of Keira | Vogue, June 2007