working on chapter 4 sorry its taken me so long :') i have a very busy life atm
if theres anything u guys would like to see happen id love to hear it! if it fits in the plot (or im realistically able to) im more than happy to write it in!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
chapter two is uuuuup im really happy with this one and im working on chapter 3! (i need to give myself a little breather though so that one may come out later)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
chapter two is uuuuup im really happy with this one and im working on chapter 3! (i need to give myself a little breather though so that one may come out later)
Headcanons and AU things bc Iâm finally writing a fic (heres a link to it!)
Relationships & Packs
The pack consists of: Derek and Peter (serving as co-alphas although Derek has a little more say) the rest are:
Allison (human)
Erica (werewolf)
Liam (werewolf)
Theo (werewolf)
Lydia (banshee/werewolf)
Boyd (werewolf)
Kira (kitsune)
Mason (werewolf)
Scott (werewolf)
Stiles (human)
Malia (werecoyote)
Jackson (werewolf/kanima)
Melissa, Noah and Deaton are welcomed into the pack as well but they mostly do their own thing/donât want to impede on their thing
Allison and Scott are dating bc duh
are Liam and Theo a thing? idk! maybe!
Lydia and Stiles dated for a while but broke up after they both realized they swing for the same team
Stiles had a crisis and dated Malia but again, he came out feeling he didnât really have actual feelings for girls
Speaking of⊠ASEXUAL STILES and you know what? ASEXUAL AROMANTIC DEREK!!!
i might make an entirely separate post for this category cus im def forgetting a bunch of stuff i had written down
Ages
Theyâve all graduated high school and are in that in-between state of figuring out wtf to do
Stiles is 19 in this fic so, arrange the restâs ages with that info as you willâŠ
Derekâs in his early 30âs (donât ask me what specifically bc idek it just makes more sense for his character in my eyes)
Noah and Claudia had Stiles in their early 20s so Noah's around his early to mid 40's atm (although im leaning towards the latter, the've been friends with Melissa for ages and planned to have kids around the same time so they could grow up together... it def worked lol)
Cora's closer to Dereks age, mid 20s but lives out of state
Miscellaneous
Early childhood diagnosis autistic Stiles because. I. Said. So.
Age regression isnât known in this universe itâs the same as it is irl but for Stiles his regression is both for coping and just a neurodivergence symptomÂ
Noah eventually takes The Bite âą lol not saying how he gets to that though
everyone who canonically died.... no they didn't <3
Derek Hale is emotionally constipated
the pack was on the brink of splitting off (Derek's pack and Scott's pack) but bc of certain events they all decide its best to stick together as its always been
coach Finstock will be making an appearance when u least expect it
Suggestions
im more than happy to take on suggestions for little headcanons or events that could transpire over the course of the fic (i dont have a set amount of chapters planned im just gonna keep writing until it makes sense to conclude the story lol!)
aside from this main fic im taking one-shot suggestions as a separate series that can go on for pretty much, forever :P if i like the one shot enough i'll add chapters to it and lengthen it out! they can be related or unrelated to the current universe/au ive got going on!
i'll do my best to upload frequently -but- im currently in a 2 year mortuary school program that takes up a lottttt of my focus so please keep that in mind ^^'
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
chapter two is uuuuup im really happy with this one and im working on chapter 3! (i need to give myself a little breather though so that one may come out later)
im working on a full-length (do i even know what that means?) teen wolf fic centered around age regressor!stiles so far im not ready to start posting chapters yet but each one takes up around 35 pages in google docs so.... its a heavy one LOL
anyways do we remember season 3 episode 18 "riddled"? remember this scene? im taking inspo from his Predicament âą
and making that the catalyst for the pack finding out about his regression + stiles grappling with the new permanent disability (bc i did my bear-trap-on-the-leg-injury-research and it very much does disable u) and how he needs to learn how to grapple with needing help and being ok with being vulnerable around people
im excited to get this thing going and i hope u all enjoy it!
i think i'll have two series going on ao3 one being this bigger fic and the other being one-shots and requests u guys have :)!!
anyways here's one in which tantrums r thrown, lines r crossed and apologetic snuggles r had
Oh he was so over it. So, unbelievably over it.
If there was something Stiles hated feeling, it was ignored. Heâd never outwardly show it, or at least try not to, but it truly drove him insane. Feeling ignored was akin to being shot in the foot for Stiles, there was just no way he could pretend it didnât happen. It wasnât a secret or a mystery as to why this was such an insecurity for him. No kid likes school and Stiles even less so having had the permanent mark of being in special-education. Itâs not like he was in it for all of school⊠just elementary, and some of middle school⊠and some high school. With that came the very quick and persistent lesson from peers that he simply did not exist. Of course, he had his dad that was always so quick to make him feel better, like he mattered and was loved. Therapy helped too but here he stood in some random aisle at some random grocery store as Derek blabbered on into the phone, occasionally grabbing whatever it was he needed and tossing it into the now uncomfortably heavy basket looped through Stilesâ arms. He really didnât care who he was on the phone with or why and felt it best to simply go on autopilot, follow Derek mindlessly and keep quiet. If it had been a one-off incident Stiles would think nothing of it, understanding the nuance that came with being an adult and needing to balance different relationships. But, this had been going on all⊠week⊠there was no fight within the boy anymore. At least he thought there was none left.
Derek briefly throws Stiles a glance after hearing the younger sigh but quickly goes back to the conversation heâs having with Peter. It may be best to call back later, the werewolf could smell the jealousy and sadness coming from Stiles. Yeah⊠Peter could wait, Derek thinks as he concludes his call and places his phone into his back pocket.Â
âAlright, a couple more aisles and weâll be out of here.â He tries to sound a little more engaged. It only resulted in a sharp and dry âmhmâ from Stiles, his expression had settled into something fierce and Derek wondered if his efforts were too little too late. Things started ramping up when he placed a hand lightly on Stilesâ lower back and guided him towards the next set of shelves. There was brief resistance to the touch before cooperating. Then, in the few seconds it took Derek to grab an item from the cleaning section, Stiles was gone.Â
Oh boy.
Luckily Derek quickly found him, merely one aisle over looking uninterested at the products and not paying any mind to Derek as he strode up next to him. Thankful the boy wasnât a werewolf and therefore could not smell the very brief but intense spike in panic upon losing him that was all over Derek.
âHey, donât go running off from me, alright? I know it's not so big in here but, still.â Derek lightly reprimands, once again ushering Stiles back to where he needed to be. Whatever plans the boy had on pushing his buttons were working as he felt his eyebrow raise upon hearing a quiet string of profanities under his breath. Something like âWhat-the-fuck-everâ. He pauses. Ok, Derek was not a fan of the newfound attitude. Stiles was sassy, yes, but it was always in a playful way, never like this. He hovers around the boy for a couple minutes, pretending to look for things while trying to get a better gauge on his current state. Eventually going back to looking for what he really needed once he was sure Stiles wouldnât go anywhere, but that of course did not last long.Â
âWhat the-â Derek is unable to keep his surprise a silent thought as he sees the shopping basket Stiles had offered to hold, unceremoniously left a couple feet away from him, the younger one gone as well. Derek finds himself in a somewhat common moment, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to reign in the incoming frustration with a long calculated sigh. The game was clearly on, but there wasnât anything amusing about it to Derek. He completely understood what parents felt like when their kids got lost in stores now and he hated it.Â
The panic had steadily increased in the werewolf for each place Stiles wasnât in. Not one, not two, not three or four but five damn aisles away Derek finally found Stiles, arms crossed and looking even more upset. Derek steps closer to him and decides to let a couple moments of silence pass before beginning. He wanted Stiles to know he wasnât messing with getting lost, this was not hide and seek.
âOk, one more time and youâre sitting in one of the shopping carts. Is that clear?â Derekâs voice is smooth, calm but clearly teetering on mad. Of course, some lady and her husband had to stroll into the same aisle as this debacle was taking place.Â
âNow come on, a few more things and weâre done.â Derek stated, already turning away to continue shopping, he had grasped Stilesâ arm gently to pull him in tow, mindful that a light squeeze to a werewolf was nearly bone-shattering to a human. Clearly, Stiles didnât care for his bones as he ripped his arm out of his hold, firmly sliding down onto the floor where he intended to stay seated. Now the couple were looking and Derek subtly sniffs in Stiles' general direction, trying to see if he had regressed or not. Nope. Not a hint of regression, this was all carefully coordinated. It made Derek feel pity for him momentarily, he was aware the boy wasnât getting as much attention from him lately and had been betting something like this would happen. It's just that he wasnât expecting it to happen in public, though he wouldnât be taking that for granted anymore. Stiles was going to get his attention whether it was in a good or bad way. Now Derek really had to think of how to go about this. He could try and walk away, playing chicken with Stiles until he ran back to him but something told him that wouldnât work this time. Or he could get a shopping cart, bring it back and get his butt in it. But he wasnât sure heâd find Stiles in the same spot if he left for that long.Â
Finally Derek decides on coming back to the boy, getting down to his level and offering a hand to stand back up. Stiles sharply slaps his hand away, but it barely budges. The spectators, catching on to the tantrum, left for a different area of the grocery store. Derekâs face was unmoving, not impressed in the slightest. Hitting was always a no-no, in or out of regression, that went for the entire pack as well. A rule he had to sit everyone down for after a round of âlight roughhousingâ that resulted in the largest bruise he had ever seen on Stiles. It was easy to forget the strength difference humans had when you were a werewolf. But right now, it wasnât goodhearted play, it was a deliberate smack. A sharp gesture, a plea to be taken care of.
Ok, if Stiles wanted some regression time with him he was gonna get it, right here and right now. Audience or not.Â
âDude!â Stiles protests as the werewolf picks him up off the floor and situates him comfortably on his hip.Â
âOh, no, no, no. You donât get to complain, clearly you need this, and it's not âdudeâ it's either âdadaâ or âdaddyâ, you pick.â Derek interrupts, now it was his turn to be âso overâ this treatment. Stiles was fuming, now whether it was at the fact that Derek had the gall to do this in public or because it was working and he was beginning to feel smaller, that was beyond him. Stiles felt in over his head, he had meant for his actions to result in some sort of intervention from Derek - hopefully in the form of that addicting caregiver affection heâd give the boy. But nope, he was having his regrets. Unsure of what was worse as they made their way to checkout, the stares from people his age or the stares from people younger than him. Stiles did his best to look unphased and like the floor was the most interesting thing in his world right now. Too many feelings were rushing through him right now, it bubbled uncomfortably up his chest and out in the form of tears and he laid his head on Derekâs shoulder in defeat. Thankfully the werewolf was good at balancing when to be strict and when to be nurturing. Some light shushes and bouncing from Derek sent him even further into his ever-descending headspace. He was so thankful the grocery store wasnât too busy, it was a Tuesday afternoon so most people had better, more important things to do. Derek continued soothing the now very-small Stiles in his arms as he made his way through the vacant parking lot and towards his car. Interjecting the shushing with gentle reassurances that it was ok and that he wasnât mad at him for the outburst.Â
âItâs ok little man, this was bound to happen. That wasnât very smart of me, huh? Dragging you around overwhelming places when youâre just a baby.â Stiles was fully limp in Derekâs arms, the reassurances not only music to his ears but the way his dada spoke rumbled from his chest and vibrated all throughout his body. It was soothing, he was exhausted, Stiles wanted to fall asleep where he lay.
All too quickly he was being settled down into the back seat, whining and gripping onto Derekâs sleeves, wordlessly pleading not to be let go. Derek gently pries his hands off from his shirt, once again gently shushing the boy.Â
âIâm not going anywhere, Iâm right here baby boy, right here.â Derek soothes, gently squeezing Stilesâ hands and running his thumb over top of them. It does little to help, Stiles is trying his hardest not to hyperventilate, interrupting his efforts with ragged breaths and nervous hums. Derek lets the momentary silence aid in bringing down Stilesâ heightened nerves before continuing. Narrating the gameplan as he tries to buckle the boy up without him paying it too much mind.Â
âIâm not mad, you did nothing wrong, you were just trying to get my attention. Iâm sorry daddy hasnât been spending enough time with you⊠Tell you what- lets go straight home and Iâll be 100% yours, ok? How does that sound? We can play, take a nap, just cuddle and watch some tv, anything youâd like.â Derek offers, going back to holding the hands of a slightly more calm Stiles. The younger nods, he looks exhausted and his scent screams tired, upset, overwhelmed and regressed. Derek praises him for being willing despite how rejected his little-mind is feeling, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek and exaggerating the noise. He gently closes the door and takes a seat behind the wheel, glancing in the rear view mirror at Stiles as he buckles himself in. Stiles was busy chewing on his fingers, filled with worry. As Derek begins the short drive home he reaches an arm behind him gesturing for the boy to take hold of his hand. He was thankful for that little gesture, it probably wasnât safe for him to do so, hold Stilesâ hand as he drove but the little one needed it. Grasping onto the werewolfâs larger hand the whole ride home.
Finally, the groceries were put away, Stiles was situated on the counter right beside the pantry, watching Derek put everything away. The first thing they did was get into comfier clothes, both clad in pajamas and Stiles feeling even smaller with the added padding on. Every now and then the feelings would bubble up again and his breathing would get ragged and eyes teared up, the downside of being regressed meaning his emotions felt so uncontrollable and all over the place. But now he had his full attention, and he felt incredibly guilty for that show he put on at the store. Derek, once again, scooped him up off the counter and onto his hip, walking them both aimlessly through the kitchen and then living room as he bounced Stiles gently. He talked at the boy without expecting any response, telling him how brave he was for getting through such a rough day, how well he did on the drive home and how patient he was as the groceries were put away. It lulled him into a sleepy and content state, just allowing Derek to soothe him and be present in this slow and much needed moment. Head tiredly coming up to look at Derek and signing the word for âpacifierâ.
âOh, good job asking for what you want!â Derek all but coos at him, it had been something they were working on. Getting Stiles to advocate for himself more instead of just staying quiet all the time. It actually helped being babied through his struggles, in and out of regression Stiles loved to be babied. Maybe not so over the top around others but he thrived on it, even if Jackson and Isaac caught on and began using it in less than sincere ways to get at Stiles. Boys will be boys, they all deeply cared for one another at the end of the day.Â
Derek walks the two over to the little cubby they had set up for Stiles, picking up the pouch that held an assortment of pacifiers in it and picked one out. Stiles didnât like the âdecoâ ones, the simpler the better so he pops in the boy's mouth it was a natural yellow-ish clear rubber pacifier. Stiles happily hums as he works his mouth around it and presses a kiss on Derekâs cheek. âPaci-kissesâ they had come to call them, Derek loved how cute they were and always made sure to kiss him back.
âAwh, thank you for the kiss, sweetheart. Howâd I get so lucky with such a sweet baby, hm?â Derek asked aloud, nuzzling Stilesâ face, so glad that he was in better spirits. No longer was his scent covered in jealousy and anger, it was all that soft and sleepy regression smell that Derek adored. That same adoration beamed out of his face once he saw Stiles lift his head up again, this time signing the words âloveâ and then âdadaâ.Â
âDada loves you too baby, so, so, so much.â He dragged out the last âsoâ before the cuteness aggression took over and he had to attack Stilesâ face and neck with kisses. Erupting in laughter as Derekâs beard and kisses tickled him all over, the younger did his best to shield himself from the onslaught. . Compared to all the other supernatural beings heâd fought in the past, the âkissie-monsterâ was his favorite to go up against.
(thanks for reading and i hope u all enjoyed it ^^ i'll be back to edit this with a link to my AO3)
anyways here's one in which tantrums r thrown, lines r crossed and apologetic snuggles r had
Oh he was so over it. So, unbelievably over it.
If there was something Stiles hated feeling, it was ignored. Heâd never outwardly show it, or at least try not to, but it truly drove him insane. Feeling ignored was akin to being shot in the foot for Stiles, there was just no way he could pretend it didnât happen. It wasnât a secret or a mystery as to why this was such an insecurity for him. No kid likes school and Stiles even less so having had the permanent mark of being in special-education. Itâs not like he was in it for all of school⊠just elementary, and some of middle school⊠and some high school. With that came the very quick and persistent lesson from peers that he simply did not exist. Of course, he had his dad that was always so quick to make him feel better, like he mattered and was loved. Therapy helped too but here he stood in some random aisle at some random grocery store as Derek blabbered on into the phone, occasionally grabbing whatever it was he needed and tossing it into the now uncomfortably heavy basket looped through Stilesâ arms. He really didnât care who he was on the phone with or why and felt it best to simply go on autopilot, follow Derek mindlessly and keep quiet. If it had been a one-off incident Stiles would think nothing of it, understanding the nuance that came with being an adult and needing to balance different relationships. But, this had been going on all⊠week⊠there was no fight within the boy anymore. At least he thought there was none left.
Derek briefly throws Stiles a glance after hearing the younger sigh but quickly goes back to the conversation heâs having with Peter. It may be best to call back later, the werewolf could smell the jealousy and sadness coming from Stiles. Yeah⊠Peter could wait, Derek thinks as he concludes his call and places his phone into his back pocket.Â
âAlright, a couple more aisles and weâll be out of here.â He tries to sound a little more engaged. It only resulted in a sharp and dry âmhmâ from Stiles, his expression had settled into something fierce and Derek wondered if his efforts were too little too late. Things started ramping up when he placed a hand lightly on Stilesâ lower back and guided him towards the next set of shelves. There was brief resistance to the touch before cooperating. Then, in the few seconds it took Derek to grab an item from the cleaning section, Stiles was gone.Â
Oh boy.
Luckily Derek quickly found him, merely one aisle over looking uninterested at the products and not paying any mind to Derek as he strode up next to him. Thankful the boy wasnât a werewolf and therefore could not smell the very brief but intense spike in panic upon losing him that was all over Derek.
âHey, donât go running off from me, alright? I know it's not so big in here but, still.â Derek lightly reprimands, once again ushering Stiles back to where he needed to be. Whatever plans the boy had on pushing his buttons were working as he felt his eyebrow raise upon hearing a quiet string of profanities under his breath. Something like âWhat-the-fuck-everâ. He pauses. Ok, Derek was not a fan of the newfound attitude. Stiles was sassy, yes, but it was always in a playful way, never like this. He hovers around the boy for a couple minutes, pretending to look for things while trying to get a better gauge on his current state. Eventually going back to looking for what he really needed once he was sure Stiles wouldnât go anywhere, but that of course did not last long.Â
âWhat the-â Derek is unable to keep his surprise a silent thought as he sees the shopping basket Stiles had offered to hold, unceremoniously left a couple feet away from him, the younger one gone as well. Derek finds himself in a somewhat common moment, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to reign in the incoming frustration with a long calculated sigh. The game was clearly on, but there wasnât anything amusing about it to Derek. He completely understood what parents felt like when their kids got lost in stores now and he hated it.Â
The panic had steadily increased in the werewolf for each place Stiles wasnât in. Not one, not two, not three or four but five damn aisles away Derek finally found Stiles, arms crossed and looking even more upset. Derek steps closer to him and decides to let a couple moments of silence pass before beginning. He wanted Stiles to know he wasnât messing with getting lost, this was not hide and seek.
âOk, one more time and youâre sitting in one of the shopping carts. Is that clear?â Derekâs voice is smooth, calm but clearly teetering on mad. Of course, some lady and her husband had to stroll into the same aisle as this debacle was taking place.Â
âNow come on, a few more things and weâre done.â Derek stated, already turning away to continue shopping, he had grasped Stilesâ arm gently to pull him in tow, mindful that a light squeeze to a werewolf was nearly bone-shattering to a human. Clearly, Stiles didnât care for his bones as he ripped his arm out of his hold, firmly sliding down onto the floor where he intended to stay seated. Now the couple were looking and Derek subtly sniffs in Stiles' general direction, trying to see if he had regressed or not. Nope. Not a hint of regression, this was all carefully coordinated. It made Derek feel pity for him momentarily, he was aware the boy wasnât getting as much attention from him lately and had been betting something like this would happen. It's just that he wasnât expecting it to happen in public, though he wouldnât be taking that for granted anymore. Stiles was going to get his attention whether it was in a good or bad way. Now Derek really had to think of how to go about this. He could try and walk away, playing chicken with Stiles until he ran back to him but something told him that wouldnât work this time. Or he could get a shopping cart, bring it back and get his butt in it. But he wasnât sure heâd find Stiles in the same spot if he left for that long.Â
Finally Derek decides on coming back to the boy, getting down to his level and offering a hand to stand back up. Stiles sharply slaps his hand away, but it barely budges. The spectators, catching on to the tantrum, left for a different area of the grocery store. Derekâs face was unmoving, not impressed in the slightest. Hitting was always a no-no, in or out of regression, that went for the entire pack as well. A rule he had to sit everyone down for after a round of âlight roughhousingâ that resulted in the largest bruise he had ever seen on Stiles. It was easy to forget the strength difference humans had when you were a werewolf. But right now, it wasnât goodhearted play, it was a deliberate smack. A sharp gesture, a plea to be taken care of.
Ok, if Stiles wanted some regression time with him he was gonna get it, right here and right now. Audience or not.Â
âDude!â Stiles protests as the werewolf picks him up off the floor and situates him comfortably on his hip.Â
âOh, no, no, no. You donât get to complain, clearly you need this, and it's not âdudeâ it's either âdadaâ or âdaddyâ, you pick.â Derek interrupts, now it was his turn to be âso overâ this treatment. Stiles was fuming, now whether it was at the fact that Derek had the gall to do this in public or because it was working and he was beginning to feel smaller, that was beyond him. Stiles felt in over his head, he had meant for his actions to result in some sort of intervention from Derek - hopefully in the form of that addicting caregiver affection heâd give the boy. But nope, he was having his regrets. Unsure of what was worse as they made their way to checkout, the stares from people his age or the stares from people younger than him. Stiles did his best to look unphased and like the floor was the most interesting thing in his world right now. Too many feelings were rushing through him right now, it bubbled uncomfortably up his chest and out in the form of tears and he laid his head on Derekâs shoulder in defeat. Thankfully the werewolf was good at balancing when to be strict and when to be nurturing. Some light shushes and bouncing from Derek sent him even further into his ever-descending headspace. He was so thankful the grocery store wasnât too busy, it was a Tuesday afternoon so most people had better, more important things to do. Derek continued soothing the now very-small Stiles in his arms as he made his way through the vacant parking lot and towards his car. Interjecting the shushing with gentle reassurances that it was ok and that he wasnât mad at him for the outburst.Â
âItâs ok little man, this was bound to happen. That wasnât very smart of me, huh? Dragging you around overwhelming places when youâre just a baby.â Stiles was fully limp in Derekâs arms, the reassurances not only music to his ears but the way his dada spoke rumbled from his chest and vibrated all throughout his body. It was soothing, he was exhausted, Stiles wanted to fall asleep where he lay.
All too quickly he was being settled down into the back seat, whining and gripping onto Derekâs sleeves, wordlessly pleading not to be let go. Derek gently pries his hands off from his shirt, once again gently shushing the boy.Â
âIâm not going anywhere, Iâm right here baby boy, right here.â Derek soothes, gently squeezing Stilesâ hands and running his thumb over top of them. It does little to help, Stiles is trying his hardest not to hyperventilate, interrupting his efforts with ragged breaths and nervous hums. Derek lets the momentary silence aid in bringing down Stilesâ heightened nerves before continuing. Narrating the gameplan as he tries to buckle the boy up without him paying it too much mind.Â
âIâm not mad, you did nothing wrong, you were just trying to get my attention. Iâm sorry daddy hasnât been spending enough time with you⊠Tell you what- lets go straight home and Iâll be 100% yours, ok? How does that sound? We can play, take a nap, just cuddle and watch some tv, anything youâd like.â Derek offers, going back to holding the hands of a slightly more calm Stiles. The younger nods, he looks exhausted and his scent screams tired, upset, overwhelmed and regressed. Derek praises him for being willing despite how rejected his little-mind is feeling, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek and exaggerating the noise. He gently closes the door and takes a seat behind the wheel, glancing in the rear view mirror at Stiles as he buckles himself in. Stiles was busy chewing on his fingers, filled with worry. As Derek begins the short drive home he reaches an arm behind him gesturing for the boy to take hold of his hand. He was thankful for that little gesture, it probably wasnât safe for him to do so, hold Stilesâ hand as he drove but the little one needed it. Grasping onto the werewolfâs larger hand the whole ride home.
Finally, the groceries were put away, Stiles was situated on the counter right beside the pantry, watching Derek put everything away. The first thing they did was get into comfier clothes, both clad in pajamas and Stiles feeling even smaller with the added padding on. Every now and then the feelings would bubble up again and his breathing would get ragged and eyes teared up, the downside of being regressed meaning his emotions felt so uncontrollable and all over the place. But now he had his full attention, and he felt incredibly guilty for that show he put on at the store. Derek, once again, scooped him up off the counter and onto his hip, walking them both aimlessly through the kitchen and then living room as he bounced Stiles gently. He talked at the boy without expecting any response, telling him how brave he was for getting through such a rough day, how well he did on the drive home and how patient he was as the groceries were put away. It lulled him into a sleepy and content state, just allowing Derek to soothe him and be present in this slow and much needed moment. Head tiredly coming up to look at Derek and signing the word for âpacifierâ.
âOh, good job asking for what you want!â Derek all but coos at him, it had been something they were working on. Getting Stiles to advocate for himself more instead of just staying quiet all the time. It actually helped being babied through his struggles, in and out of regression Stiles loved to be babied. Maybe not so over the top around others but he thrived on it, even if Jackson and Isaac caught on and began using it in less than sincere ways to get at Stiles. Boys will be boys, they all deeply cared for one another at the end of the day.Â
Derek walks the two over to the little cubby they had set up for Stiles, picking up the pouch that held an assortment of pacifiers in it and picked one out. Stiles didnât like the âdecoâ ones, the simpler the better so he pops in the boy's mouth it was a natural yellow-ish clear rubber pacifier. Stiles happily hums as he works his mouth around it and presses a kiss on Derekâs cheek. âPaci-kissesâ they had come to call them, Derek loved how cute they were and always made sure to kiss him back.
âAwh, thank you for the kiss, sweetheart. Howâd I get so lucky with such a sweet baby, hm?â Derek asked aloud, nuzzling Stilesâ face, so glad that he was in better spirits. No longer was his scent covered in jealousy and anger, it was all that soft and sleepy regression smell that Derek adored. That same adoration beamed out of his face once he saw Stiles lift his head up again, this time signing the words âloveâ and then âdadaâ.Â
âDada loves you too baby, so, so, so much.â He dragged out the last âsoâ before the cuteness aggression took over and he had to attack Stilesâ face and neck with kisses. Erupting in laughter as Derekâs beard and kisses tickled him all over, the younger did his best to shield himself from the onslaught. . Compared to all the other supernatural beings heâd fought in the past, the âkissie-monsterâ was his favorite to go up against.
(thanks for reading and i hope u all enjoyed it ^^ i'll be back to edit this with a link to my AO3)
M not super knowledgeable about stiles but I DID see the babyre moodboard u did an maybe I was thinkin about baby stiles an how Derek would handle tantrums an taking care of him when he's softer.... But this is just an idea!! Feel free to ignore this tho! Just spitballing hehe ^^
im always happy to see u in my inbox bunnie :D! i like ur idea and im already thinking up ways on how that could come about >:) off to write i go!
I was originally gonna post the one which his dad finds out about his agere but i decided to write and post this one as my first! i will say theres mentions of diapers in this and its not the focal point its just a means to further get stiles to regress :P đ but its 1000000% SFW
anyways! here's derek introducing/implementing agere after the many many traumas that came with the nogistune (no one dies though)
Derek could imagine the shade of crimson that was plastered on Stilesâ face on the other side of the phone. He had just asked Stiles if he had any accidents today to which he meekly replied with a 'no'.Â
Since the Nogitsune, many areas of Stilesâ capabilities had⊠regressed. Be it the trauma, the stress, the autism or all of the above. It was apparent that things had fundamentally changed within the boy. One of those areas of which had been bathroom capabilities, much to Stilesâ chagrin. But, of course, the pack and his father had taken it in stride. Being oh so understanding about the difficulties. Although, no amount of research and talking about it would make it so anyone in the pack could avoid turning a couple shades of pink. That only fueled Stilesâ embarrassment within those moments. No matter how logical his loss of skills appeared to be in the context of the trauma that demonic possession brought about⊠Stiles felt ashamed. So ashamed.
That shame grew to an impossible height whenever his father would insist on using diapers, at least when he was at home. His father never forced him to when Stiles was out and about, and not a soul other than Derek, Peter and Melissa knew about the added protection. All swore to keep it within themselves. None of them had ever seen the diapers or helped in any regards to them aside from Noah. Still though, Derek always asked out of a genuine want to know but also to get Stiles to loosen up about it all. He knew if his plan was to go accordingly, some walls would have to be broken down and that meant talking about it more openly.
âOk, well-â âI know, I know, if I ever need a hand, you got it.â Stiles cut him off, having heard the sentiment over and over again from the werewolf. Derek sighs in response, pulling into the road in which the Stilinski household was located.
âAlright well, Iâll see you in a sec, Iâm pulling up now.â
ââK, bye.â Stiles responded, dragging out the âbyeâ as he normally did on phone calls.Â
Derek hears the call end and drives the little distance he has left and into the driveway like he had countless times before. Putting the car in park he glances over at the shopping bag set aside in the passenger seat. It was a little silly, but he thought it may do Stiles some good if he leaned into the childishness of his predicament. So, he had found himself discovering a niche that could very well work for the occasion. Considering the magnitude of stress the possession had brought about, and the not-so-great childhood, Derek thought it may be worth a try to get Stiles back in a headspace where he felt safe. The issue, of course, was how in the world would he get him to lower his defenses in the slightest. The Stiles that Derek met all those years ago was gone, there was an air of cynicism and paranoia within the boy now, the only consistent thing being his buzzed hair.Â
Derek found himself once again sighing, not too different than when youâd hear a dog let out the longest most miserable sigh, as if it had any worry in the world aside from getting kibbles. Derek wished those were his problems. Despite his apprehensions and the growing anxiety he exits the vehicle, plastic bag in tow and puts in the keycode to the garage door. Stiles was halfway opening the door that led to the little hallway next to the living room.
âHey man! I was wondering what took you so long...â His eyes glancing down at the bag Derek was holding- hiding behind himself? Although he didnât outright ask, that was another thing that had changed within Stiles. He was still curious and nosey but now he rarely voiced it aloud. If folks didnât bring something up it was likely he wouldnât press any further. His facial expressions always gave his curiosity away though and Derek knew he couldnât delay the confrontation any further.
âHey- sorry, quick stop.â Derek replied guardedly, lifting the bag into view before walking in with Stiles. He walked up to the kitchen counter, contemplating his next move before letting his impulses take control. He held up a hand as if to start-
âDonât kill me-â
âUh oh.â
âNo, not âuh ohâ, thisâll be good for you. Just donât kill me once you see it.â
âGood for me?â Stiles asks, unamused and already beginning to heighten his defenses. His arms are now crossed.
Derek was aware that the introduction to the topic was not as smooth as he had intended but added âYes.â He was sure it would be good for him, both of them, but he wasnât known to be⊠eloquent. Derek hoped this would go the way he wanted to despite the rough start.
They stood in silence, Derek overanalyzing Stilesâ expression and thinking of what to say next while the latter held his brows up, eyes wide and lips pursed staring at the counter. Neither of them were sure what to think or where to go next.
âI guess I canât just dump this on you⊠Do you remember the first time I saw your bedroom and how much you told me not to make fun of you for still having childhood toys around?â Stiles still at a loss for words, nods. âAnd do you remember how much you didnât like me helping with laundry because you thought I would think that your t-shirts and other clothes were childish?â Another nod from Stiles. âOk, good⊠and do you know how I never made fun of you for either? Or how sometimes when you have trouble talking I donât judge you for needing simpler explanations or ways of talking?âÂ
This time Stiles speaks out loud, maybe self conscious about his lack of talking up until it was pointed out. âYeahâŠ?â
âYou know how the, uh- the diapers have been helping a lot but you donât like to think about it? I think⊠considering how some of this stuff draws you in naturally that it may be good to lean into it. What do you think?â Derek finishes sounding hopeful but trying not to come off as pressuring. Although Stiles just stands there, gears clearly on overdrive trying to put two and two together. Derek was hoping he could build up to it more subtly but clearly he canât.
âI hope you get what Iâm trying to sayâŠâ Derek states quietly while pulling out an item from the plastic bag and holding it out to Stiles.
âIâm sorry- I- wait-â Stiles stops himself from the repeated self interruptions, looking at the muted-blue pacifier set in the werewolfâs outstretched hand. He takes a deep breath before continuing the only other logical route this could possibly be coming from.
âAr- are you fucking with me?â Stiles asks honestly thinking this was some elaborate joke that just went over his head. His body visibly relaxed at the thought of it all being a load of bunk. It had to be. Oh how Derek had to burst his bubble.Â
âNo⊠I am not fucking with you.â He made sure to enunciate whenever Stiles needed these clarifications. He preferred Stiles not to swear, should they be incorporating this element into their life. But he needed Stiles to know he was dead serious. More silent moments pass.
âOh⊠oh, youâre being serious, oh my God.â Stiles starts, then finishes more so to himself. âYou- I mean wh- what does this mean? Like, what are you trying to make happen?â He asks, rushed and once again tensed up, gesturing vaguely at the pacifiers and at Derek.
âWell,â Derek starts, placing the packaged pacifiers onto the counter before laying out all the other items alongside it. There was a pacifier clip, some teething toys, a star-themed bottle, a pair of fuzzy socks, a very soft looking grey pajama set adorned with the original 1980s style of carebears on them. Along all of that, a pack of those yogurt melts you give babies that are too young to eat solid foods yet. Slowly, after examining each item, the intentions became a little less confusing. It then became clear in Stilesâ mind that Derek, not only wanted him to embrace the immaturity of it all, he wanted to emphasize the infantilism of his predicament.
GreatâŠ
 Awesome.
âI want you to trust me on this, let me take care of you.â Derekâs mind wandered momentarily, he thought of how much he saw Stiles as a packmate but more specifically, the designated pup. Everyone filled their roles within the pack and this view was further engrained into his mind due to Stiles being the only human among them. He remembers the times in which the boy was absent, either at home or out with Scott, the topic came up on how Stiles seemed to bring out the protectiveness within their little found-family. And here he was, acting on that protectiveness in its most condensed and purest form. Stiles was a lethal asset to the pack when the occasion needed it. But if it were up to Derek, none of them would ever have to be fighting for their lives at whatever supernatural onslaught of creatures would be after them. Yes, it was good to have physically capable packmates to rely on but it was something Derek had always wished could be avoided. Heâd be perfectly happy with a boring, safe, domestic life.
Stiles thought deeply on the suggestion and all the things it could entail. Derek wasnât necessarily wrong on his assumptions- the items in the bag. For whatever reason whenever Stiles found himself in the toy aisle or the baby aisle at grocery stores heâd feel this gnawing deep in his gut and in his heart. He could never pinpoint where or why he felt that way towards the topic but he had his guesses. He knew it wasnât sexual, heâd only been out of the closet as asexual for around two years now and that in and of itself made so many aspects of his life click into place. This wasnât sexual. It nearly felt primal. He found himself looking down at the thought of playing along in this suggested role with Derek. It brought back that gnawing, steadily increasing it and Stiles wanted to weep.Â
To Derek, he saw Stiles rigorously fighting an internal battle seemingly forgetting his presence. He wanted to chip in and guide his thoughts in a more positive way, but he knew it had to be Stilesâ decision at the end of the day. Derek did however, step in once he noticed the boyâs scent turn sour, scents he could recognize as shame, fear and anxiety. It was a lot to be juggling. Stiles felt himself be enveloped in those signature Derek hugs that always seemed to fix every problem in the world. They were incredibly grounding, he loved to feel how Derek radiated in wordless sympathy, he let the hug do the talking and it always knew exactly what to say.
Slowly, after the course of a handful of minutes Stiles began to creep back out from the depths of his mind and into the present moment. Neither of them let go, Derek knew that sometimes it was easier for Stiles to have conversations wherein direct glances and eye contact werenât involved.Â
âOkâŠâ Stiles finally squeezed out from his throat. It didnât sound defeated, it just sounded scared and held a subtle relief in it.Â
âOk?â Derek repeated the way a parent would to their overwhelmed child. Stiles hummed an âmhmâ in response, pulling back from Derek a little but still looking down.
âIâm happy to hear that.â The werewolf added in a sweet and encouraging tone, rubbing Stilesâ arms up and down. Not that Stiles could see it but Derek was beaming. Allowing the two to stand in silence before furthering the process, it had already started off rockier than Derek had wanted to, so he made sure to take his time and think about his actions. Finally when it felt right, he placed all the items back in the bag, and grasped Stilesâs hand. He guided the two through the living room and up the stairs towards his bedroom. Once in, Derek gestured for Stiles to sit on his bed while he got the pajamas out- taking off any tags and gently ripping the cardboard and plastic packaging off the other products. Derek thought breaking the news to Stiles would be hard, but he severely underestimated how nerve racking it would be to initiate⊠all of this. Stiles seems to be once again lost in thought, hands clasped tightly around each other and looking at his lap. Now or never, the older thought.
âLetâs get you into something more comfy, hm?â Again, there was that sickly sweet tone that made Stilesâ stomach swirl and sent him into fidgeting. He wasnât sure how much to respond to so he just nodded and went to stand up.
â-No, no. Itâs ok, Iâve got it. You just stay put.â Derek reassures as the boy sits down again.Â
First, he takes Stiles' shirt off, trying to be quick at replacing it with the soft long sleeve pajama shirt he had bought for this occasion. âSoft?â Derek asks, eyebrows raised and hopeful. Stiles nods giving a small smile which makes him try and hold back an even bigger one. Next came off his shoes and socks followed by the new fuzzy pair. Then came the pants. They both knew Stiles had a diaper on, and they both knew it was something Stiles did not want to share. Still though, Derek gently presses Stiles to lay back onto the mattress and swiftly removes the shorts he had on with the carebear ones. Derek did indeed see the diaper, and he did his best to seem unphased but my God did he look like the textbook definition of adorable. He gently pulls Stiles to sit and, a little surprisingly, is being hugged fiercely in his midsection.Â
âIâm sorry.â Stiles mumbles from Derek's stomach, not daring to show face after that.Â
âWhat for sweetheart?â Derek was genuinely perplexed at the apology. Patiently waiting for Stiles to reply, filling the silence with gentle back rubs and calm breaths.Â
âIâm disgusting..â This time Stiles turns his head and it's clear heâs crying, stating it like it was a fact set in stone. It made Derek pause.
âOf course not. Stiles weâve talked about this. All that- all those events, the body can only take so much before it starts sacrificing things.â A beat passes and he adds âNone, and I mean none of us are grossed out by you. Not me, not the pack, not your dad, not your doctors, none of us. This is completely ok and weâre not going anywhere just because of diapers.â Derek finishes with a slight laugh, not laughing at him but at the thought that after -everything- he and the pack had gone through, that theyâd toss Stiles out over something like this.Â
âPromise?â Stiles looks up at Derek this time, face expressing both hope and so much worry, like his life depended on Derekâs next words. He kneels down to be more at level with him and moves his hands to be firmly placed over Stilesâ, rubbing his thumbs over them. It felt nice to hold Stilesâ hands, hopefully heâd be able to offer him that comfort more after today.
âPromise.â Derek responds firmly, both feeling comfortable enough to look each other in the eyes as a silent way of saying âI really do mean itâ. Stiles is the first to break the contact and nods at himself, mentally reassuring himself and preparing for what was to come. He hesitantly and awkwardly reaches his arms over and rests them onto Derek's shoulders, a silent request to be picked up. His eyes were still a little red from the crying but overall he looked more comfortable, tears and all. Derek wipes them off before making sure, âYou wanna go up?â He wanted to be absolutely sure. Stiles nods yes, eyes shifting around, very nervous to be the one to initiate, but Derek complies. Thank goodness for that werewolf-strength because Stiles was practically weightless to Derek as he gently scoops him up. They stood there for a moment, Derek allowing Stiles to get comfortable as he wrapped his arms around the otherâs neck and laid his head on his shoulder, letting out a comfortable sigh. Derek warmly chuckles at the sigh, swaying him lightly. The sour and nervous scent was mostly gone, Stiles was definitely still a ball of nerves but there was a new scent creeping up from within him. It smelled, sleepy and sweet. Innocent.
Smoothly as if it were the most natural thing to Derek, he loops a finger into the back of Stilesâ diaper, pulling it away from where it sat snugly checking to see if he needed a change. To which Stiles clings harder to the werewolf, he wasnât sure how much harder he could blush in a single day and Derek seemed to push the threshold further every time. It made Stiles feel⊠small. Not small in the sense that one would feel when insignificant. He felt small in the way a baby must feel when being peered at over a crib, cooed and doted on. Apparently he must have made some sort of noise because Derek began soothing him.
âItâs ok, Derâs just checking if thereâs anything else to change.â followed by a couple butt-pats. The swaying, the bouncing, the gentle reassurances, the nicknames, the patting, the speaking in third person⊠Stiles felt entirely taken care of but entirely embarrassed. The embarrassment tripled when he was being offered a pacifier. Heâd always had an oral fixation so it was less of a mental battle to convince himself to accept the soother. What scared him was that, the diapers he could hide, the pacifier? Well, now that would just be putting a spotlight on himself.
âGo on, it's ok.â Derek pressed the nub of the pacifier to Stilesâ lips before he tried to take it in as inconspicuously as possible. The werewolf smiled warmly and genuinely at the sight in his arms, he knew it would take time for Stiles to get comfortable but man did he wish there were no inhibitions. He wanted to be able to see his little guy totally carefree and entirely engrossed in being his baby. But these were steps towards that goal, even if they were going at a painstakingly slow pace. âThere you go, better?â Derekâs voice comfortingly rumbled and once again Stiles was nodding, it was very comfortable. He hid his face again before giving a few experimental suckles, and oh yes, it was so very soothing. The combination of pajamas, fuzzy socks, the uh- padding, and now pacifier had him feeling utterly safe in Derekâs arms. Heâd never been in a headspace like this and he wanted more. He was sure to ask for it more from Derek, maybe it could be a daily thing, Stiles wondered to himself.
âWell, that was a lot huh? Letâs take a breather before we do anything else.â Derek continued to narrate out loud as he pulled back the bedsheets. Stiles had a hand firmly over his mouth to hide the pacifier as Derek got his shoes off and situated the two into the bed. The older slightly propped himself up against the headboard, and pulled Stiles to lay atop his chest before draping the both of them in the light blue flannel comforter. They briefly exchanged glances, Derek smiling fondly at how shy but willing he was being, all things considered. Stiles smiling out of feeling brave for stepping out of so many comfort zones, he was surprised for letting Derek care for him so intimately, it made him feel hopeful. For the rest of that day Stiles allowed himself to sink further and further into that wonderful and new headspace and embraced Derekâs guidance. Neither had ever felt more content and safe, quietly excited for what else theyâd do today. But first, a nap was in order.
(I'll be adding a link to my AO3 here in a bit! thanks for reading ^^)
