arrafrost:
torakodragon:
Stiles is Derek’s favorite pillow.
For once Stiles was going to catch up on his school work. It had been a long week battling other werewolves that didn’t understand Beacon Hills already had a pack, hunters that refused to believe that one of their hunters was part of a pack, and a couple of pixies who were high on mushrooms that were convinced Stiles was the goddess of the land. Which he had to admit flattered him quite a bit until they magicked him into a tutu made of flower petals and a corset made of leaves and twigs… he had never felt so exposed and so oppressed in all his life.
Now he was going to read his course book for his English class because his dad was going to eviscerate him if he failed. That’s when the black pup jumped up onto the couch with him, settling over his legs and sniffing at his book. It wasn’t unusual. Stiles was becoming accustomed to Derek running around in his wolf form, even if it confused him considering Stiles would be just as if not more cuddly with the typical person version of Derek. Stiles didn’t think much of it, simply glanced up over his book to catch the wolf’s eyes before turning back to the words.
Derek, of course, didn’t like to be ignored and continued to move forward on Stiles body until the book was forced down against his chest as the wolf climbed on top of him and nuzzled his wet nose against the crook of Stiles neck. Stiles’ eyes narrowed, the level of unimpressed he was at his furry companion was off the charts but he could do nothing more than glower at the ceiling as he tried to speak around the mass amount of fur that was blocking his airway.
“This is revenge for falling asleep on you the other day, isn’t it?”
/Giggles/ You would recognize the the similarities, wouldn't you? ( X )
arrafrost:
“Do it.” Stiles managed to mumble past the cookie in his mouth. It wasn’t surprising that his big mouth could still form coherent words even when obstructed by homemade baked goods.
“Stiles, no. It’s not happening and you look like an idiot.”
“Since when is that new?” Stiles narrowed his eyes in a challenge. He was willing to make fun of himself to get what he wanted and Derek actually liked when he did that, gave him more reason to tease Stiles later with what he admitted, only to have Stiles deny it ever happened. Derek stared back and just when Stiles sighed, eyes flashing with disappointment, Derek leaned in fast and bit half of the cookie that was dangling from Stiles’ mouth.
Immediately Stiles flushed, his lips spread into a wide smile, as Derek chewed quietly on the cookie. It wasn’t half bad, pretty good actually, but Derek wasn’t going to let Stiles know. He was going to stare at him in the brooding, intimidating face he used on the betas.
Stiles wasn’t buying it. “Told ya they were good.”
Arra, You make my posts worthwile.
arrafrost:
torakodragon:
Do you ever wake up, and find a teenager on you?
Three hours… three long, muscle cramping hours Derek had laid there. Stiff as a board. With a Stiles. Covering like a heavy, lanky and awkwardly muttering in his sleep blanket - that may or may not have drooled on his a couple times. Technically, Derek could get out of this predicament - which had him wishing there were tiles on his ceiling so he could count them - because he was Derek Hale. He was the alpha. And the alpha could easily lift a body that was laying on his own. Except this alpha had a human mate who was not particular a morning person - and considering Stiles’ definition of morning started at 10am…
Derek’s five o’clock shadow was coming in at eleven in the morning and he was sure it was because his body had been so bored with him that it rebelled. Growing hair, that’s the most he could do at the moment and he sighed as Stiles’ mouthed at Derek’s neck, mumbling something about bees and “I don’t want the hot sauce in my pants” in his dream nightmare. One more hour. Derek would give him one more hour to wake up naturally because then it wouldn’t be his fault when Stiles woke up on the floor after Derek rolled over in his sleep.
Throws laptop out the window.
