when ao3 goes down, we write tumblr fic (edited version now on ao3 HERE lol)
i used the 15/11/24 @sterekdrabbles challenge for this. the prompt words were GREEN, REACH and SCATTER. i'm also tagging @sterekdrabblesgonelong as it's around 1K words and therefore definitely a drabble gone long lol.
it's a spark!stiles slash derek whump sort of affair, just so you know what you're reading xp
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The dagger is almost within his reach—so very nearly grabbable.
Other than being eight years old in a hospital room with the smell of rotting flowers clinging to the back of his throat, Stiles doesn't think he's ever wanted anything more than this.
Again, Derek hacks out, “Just run, Stiles!”
Again, Stiles answers no—only this time, it's not with his voice but a yellow-green vine of pure light that extends from his fingertips as he pleads with each beat of his heart for the universe to help him, the tendrils stretching, stretching, then victoriously winding themselves around the handle of the blade.
“Oh, shit,” he mutters, now with his actual voice, and then the vine of his will is pulling the knife flush into his grip.
He looks up at the hunter, their face a billboard of surprise, before a shriek rips itself from her belly at the very same time Derek roars from where he's tethered and bound, the wolfsbane-laced chains melting further into his flesh as he tries in vain to once again break free.
Then the evil bastard is flinging herself at Stiles—and straight into the dagger aimed at her solar plexus that his light sends sailing across the cave, plunging it deep into her breast.
It might not be bullseye, but it does the trick.
As she drops to the dusty ground like a discarded ragdoll, the other two hunters' heads snap like whiplash to where Stiles is sprawled, a look of pure terror marring their faces.
The cowardly fuckers drop their weapons and scatter, leaving Stiles and Derek alone—other than the dead woman at their feet—in the large cave they'd dragged Derek into a few hours ago.
Derek's wrung out, and beaten down, but alive.
At once, Stiles scrambles to his feet to get over to where the ʼwolf is chained up, almost falling back down again when his probably sprained ankle gives way beneath him.
“Stop fucking hurting yourself,” Derek hisses, and for once in Stiles's insane life he wishes he could gnash his teeth and roar in response, and it have an effect that would be anything other than ridiculous.
“Oh my god,” he protests instead. “I've just saved your offensively pretty ass with my new spark's apparently awesome Gio-Ju-ju, a-hole, so how ʼbout we be a little less sourwolf and a lot more gratefulwolf to ol’Stilesy boy here, hmm?” he sasses, finding the key to the padlock that's bolted to Derek's chains on the flat rock where his flashlight got dropped when confiscated by one of the hunters.
Stiles feels petulant, and justified in that petulance as he discards the now unlocked padlock. Then he feels a little wrong-footed when Derek quietly mumbles, “Thank you,” because the guy sounds both in a considerable amount of pain and genuinely grateful to Stiles.
Stiles sighs and kneels down to start prizing the chains away from Derek's red-raw, still-smoking skin, the ʼwolf's forever-stoic face giving away nothing of the hurt he's obviously suffering at the cruel hands of the aconite still desperately trying to seep its way into his body.
“You don't have to do that for me, you know,” Stiles says carefully, hinting at Derek's display of endurance.
Derek's eyes flicker from mid-space to Stiles's face, and Stiles suddenly notices that their heads are actually dizzyingly close.
He swallows, and the sound of it echoes around the cave as if mocking him.
The second he peels away the last link in the chain attached to Derek's skin, and before Derek can push him away, Stiles brings a hand to Derek's throat to feel for his pulse.
When determined fingers find it, Derek's face does a thing that Stiles hasn't seen it do before; it's this combination of incredulous and vulnerable, and is so unprecedented, and so beautiful, that Stiles sort of wants to cry about it.
“You can hear mine,” he superfluously reminds Derek, before saying what he really wants to. “It's not fair I don't get to know—that you're alive, I mean. Like, I know I can see it but… The tactile reassurance? That's, uh, you know, kind of nice, too.”
Man, he spends way too much time with werewolves.
Then, when he licks at his dry lips and Derek's pulse quickens under his fingertips, Stiles is so much more than simply placated.
Taking a steadying breath, he feels a million trillion miles away from anything even remotely resembling steady.
He studies Derek's face some more for confirmation of his suspicion, and finds something akin to bashful swimming amid the swirls of those gorgeous seafoam eyes.
Derek likes him back?
Stiles sinks his teeth into his bottom lip; Derek's pulse starts to race.
Amazingly, it seems Stiles isn't alone in the want he feels deep in his gut, and as it grows and spreads to his extremities, his fingers and toes now tingling with it, he reckons he's maybe beaten-up and bleeding out and half-braindead enough to have the balls to actually do something about it.
It must be biological, he thinks as he licks at his lips again, that his body somehow knows exactly what to do to hopefully get Derek to do exactly what Stiles wants him to—lick Stiles' lips for him, that is—without him making an actual fully-formed decision on the matter.
Although as soon as he's thinking that, the decision to kiss Derek is unequivocally made—even if it's going to get him shoved into the dirt for trying.
He's about to lean in when one of Derek's already beginning-to-heal hands stops him by bracing his shoulder.
“I can smell your pain, Stiles,” he says. “Let me help.”
Stiles tries not to smile as he lies through his teeth. “Hurts here, the most,” he murmurs, touching two fingers from the hand not at Derek's pulse to his bruised, bloody lips. He then curls the other hand further around the werewolf's neck, to hold on.
Derek starts to pant, and Stiles has to hold in a whine.
The werewolf sounds absolutely wrecked when he asks, “Do you have any idea what you're doing to me by wrapping your hand around my throat?”
Stiles's smile then brakes free and is wry as his wit as he answers, “I've been working hard to find out how to woo you for months now, big guy. What do you think?”
And when Derek lunges to crush Stiles's mouth with his own, teasing Stiles' lips apart with his hot, hot tongue and nipping at them with blunted canines, Stiles reckons he knows what it must feel like to howl.
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edited version now on ao3 HERE if you'd like to drop me a comment xp
Season 10, episode 16 "Lockdown" (it's the one where the team is called in a maximum protection prison in Texas to investigate the murders of two guards; they were murdered by some inmates because they used to beat up/bully some of them and even killed one. While Morgan and Callahan are interviewing one of the guards who is about spit it all out, another guard opens up like a dozen of cells; the convicts escape and tie up/kick/punch repeatedly both Derek and Kate. They only stop because one of the convicts - Julio Watson - tells the others they are feds)
@svn-f1ower-cm - unawarely - inspired me to write this because I'm a sucker for Hurt Derek + Caring Spencer and there's a disappointing amount of these types of fic - we almost always see it the other way around :(
(also I know I basically almost just posted a fic but like... I can't stop you know)
Inaccuracy: I believe in the episode Kate and Derek are tied up with handcuffs. In here I mention plastic cable ties...oopsie doopsie
Read it on AO3
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Rossi was driving. Morgan and Reid were in the backseats of the SUV; in the other one were riding Hotch, Kate and JJ. They were heading to a hotel to get a - hopefully - good night's sleep before flying back to Quantico in the morning.
Kate, in particular, had protested because she wanted to get out of there as soon as she could - she already knew both her and Derek were gonna spend the night haunted by nightmares about what had happened to them; let alone if they weren't home, far from the place they were attacked. Hotch, though, had insisted that they stay there.
The "good night's sleep to start fresh in the morning" was nothing short of an excuse: he didn't wanna mention that he felt more comfortable knowing his two injured agents could get a hand with their wounds if needed at least for one night, since, having booked the rooms with little to no advance - it's not like they walked in that prison expecting to be beaten up - they'd had to double up: Rossi and him, Callahan with JJ, Morgan with his boyfriend. Hotch knew if he had mentioned it, he'd have gained at leastest Derek's complaints if not Kate's, too.
-
Morgan had been staring blankly at the moving landscape out of the window since the moment they'd got in the car, trying to wash that nauseous feeling off of his stomach - the way his seatbelt was pressing onto his sore abdomen was surely not making it any better.
He swallowed a puddle of bitter saliva pooled up in his mouth and rubbed his eyes vigorously with his fingers.
"Looking firmly ahead should make the nausea better. Incessant eye movement is only gonna increase the sickness."
Derek turned his head toward Spencer's voice, sitting by the other window instead of on the central backseat right beside him - he had correctly figured he would want some space.
"I know."
"At least move to the front sea-" Reid's phrase got interrupted halfway by his phone buzzing in his jacket pocket.
"Garcia?" he answered.
Morgan sighed and shook his head. He should've known better than to not return her calls: she counted on the well-acknowledged fact that Spencer's heart was too pure to avoid her, contrary to what Derek had done.
"Your boyfriend is blatantly ignoring me." she pouted.
Spencer scoffed. "Not surprised."
"But is he okay?? Kate didn't sound OK when I called her. At least, 'shell-shocked trembly voice' doesn't equal 'OK' in my book."
"Well then I guess he is ok in your book?" he quickly glanced over to Derek, who was staring down at his hands in his lap but clearly attempting to eavesdrop the conversation.
"Then can you convince him to talk to me? DEREK MORGAN I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!" she yelled, causing Spencer to snatch the phone away from his ear to avoid going deaf at her squeaky voice, with a grimace that showed a hint of amusement.
"Tell her that I'm fine." Derek said, unable to keep a slight grin from playing at the corners of his lips. He guessed it was Penelope's goal all along. It always was.
"I did!" Spencer said. "Garcia, he's fine." he got back to speaking to her.
"I can confirm, he's still your healthy piece of chocolate- or whatever you call him." Rossi added jokingly from the front.
"You heard that?"
"Ok! Fine! I heard you! Will you take care of him, though?"
Spencer giggled shyly at that. "Yeah. I will take care of him." he replied lowering his voice significantly - he wanted Derek alone to hear. He received a glance and a snort from him at that.
They stared into each other's eyes for a while, before Penelope spoke up again.
"And...will you do me another favor, Boy Wonder?"
"Anything."
"Will you hold his hand for me?"
Spencer chuckled again. "Give me a second." he unbuckled his seatbelt and scooted to the seat right beside Derek, buckling up again with one hand.
Derek's pupils followed his movements with a confused smirk on his face. "Wha-"
"Shut up, just following orders." Spencer cut him off, sliding his hand on Derek's lap to lace their fingers tightly together.
"Done." he assured Garcia.
"You're a guarantee, Spencer Reid."
"I sure am." his gaze on Derek didn't waver.
"Mwah. I'll see you tomorrow, my heroes."
"Bye Penelope." he hung up.
Spencer brought his boyfriend's hand to his mouth, to place gentle kisses on his bruised knuckles.
"That an order, too?" Derek asked, looking at him with heart eyes.
"Nope. This is a bonus." Spencer replied, smiling.
"I see..." Morgan nodded with a grin just as wide printed on his face, shifting his look ahead of them.
For a second, he caught Rossi's smiling eyes from the rear view mirror.
-
- half an hour later
-
Morgan opened the door to their room and was invested all over again by a sickening feeling. The window was small, every piece of furniture was a dull shade of grey/beige-ish color, and it smelled like...sadness. Hotch would sure as hell regret deciding to stay the night after seeing those rooms.
Reid dropped both their go-bags on one of the single beds and stared at Morgan as he kicked his shoes off and sat on the mattress, elbows digging holes in his knees. He sighed and got closer, standing on his feet.
He reached a hand down to caress Derek's nape affectionately, satisfied with how his shoulders immediately relaxed at the touch. Derek tilted his chin up to meet his gaze, and Spencer could swear his heart swelled when seeing on his face what he guessed was the famous "puppy-eye look" he always accused him of pulling off.
He slightly smiled down at him. "You wanna shower first?"
"Yeah." he nodded.
Derek finally stood up and looked at him with something akin to a guilty expression. "...thanks"
"For what?" Spencer leaned in to gently kiss his temple. "do you need help?"
"To shower?" Derek snorted, while browsing in his bag for his sweats and a t-shirt.
"...doesn't hurt to ask, right?" Spencer nipped shyly at his bottom lip.
"Baby, I'm fine. I'll let you know if I need anything."
Spencer nodded, trying to contain his smile at the pet name as Derek turned on his heels and disappeared in the bathroom.
-
Morgan found himself regretting refusing the offer when even bending down to pull his pants off turned out to be a painful motion.
He sucked it up and proceeded to remove the bandages the medics had wrapped around his torso, and the band-aid Spencer had insisted that they put on the cut on his brow bone. The bruises on his belly were still burning red and purple, and the scratch layered over them was fresh like it was made a minute before - he hissed in pain when the bandage sticked slightly to it while trying to peel it off.
Much to his relief, the warm water of the shower seemed to soothe down the soreness - at least temporarily. The other, nasty side of the coin, though, was that it made the cuts itch even more.
He tried to clean himself and his wounds as best as he could, considering the limited range of motions the pain allowed him to engage in and how little longer his legs could keep him standing from the exhaustion.
Unfortunately enough, when he got out of the shower he felt 20 lbs heavier, and the swelling of his left shoulder had worsened - if it was even possible. He bet Spencer had trusted him to know he should've showered cold. Maybe he shouldn't have been so trustful, despite how Derek would've sure as hell rolled his eyes if he'd tried to remind him.
He managed to put his sweats on through clenched teeth, and sat on the crappy stool in the corner of that crappy bathroom of their crappy hotel room, to re-do the medication, hoping it would come out at least half as effective as how the medics on the ambulance had done it.
And just like that, as expected, when he tried to reach his hand down for the antiseptic he had - stupidly - placed on the tiled floor; a stabbing twinge of pain pierced through his left shoulder and spread like an electric shock down his spine.
It was probably time to swallow his pride.
-
Spencer took advantage of the time Derek was spending in the bathroom to finally put his pajamas on - he was too tired to think of showering. He'd do that in the morning before leaving.
He was sitting on the bed, reading a book, or at least trying to: every single noise that came from the bathroom's direction made him wince in alertness.
"Fuck-"
-
When he heard the bit-back cursing, he jumped on his feet and headed to the other room in a matter of seconds.
"Derek? E- Everything ok?" he asked through the closed door. He didn't wanna seem too worried or too pushy, he new Derek couldn't stand it - but he was worried.
"Yeah..." Morgan made a pause not long enough for Reid to answer. "actually... Can- can you come in here for a sec?"
Spencer opened the door and was immediately absorbed in a cloud of hot steam, condensing on the mirror and the sliding glass door of the shower.
He turned to his right to find Derek shut-eyed sitting in the corner of the small bathroom, his head leaning back on the wall and a hand pressed on his shoulder.
"You showered with hot water??" Spencer was well aware of sounding like a teacher scolding his student. He couldn't have cared less.
"Jeez Spencer, I forgot, alright? Didn't even cross my mind to shower ice-cold."
The younger man sighed and shook his head. He looked around for the t-shirt Derek was wearing before showering.
"Let's see if this works..." he mumbled to himself while filling up the sink with cold water - the coldest it could get. He dipped the cotton piece of clothing in it, making sure it was thoroughly soaked; shivering as goosebumps grew on his forearms.
He wrung out the shirt of the excess water and folded it, before kneeling in between Derek's legs to place it on his puffy shoulder.
"Shit. 'ts cold." Derek sucked his teeth while visibly shuddering.
"That's kind of the point." Spencer mockingly smirked at him. "Sit straight now." he commanded.
He picked up the bottle of antiseptic from the floor and poured some of it on a gauze.
"It's gonna sting a little..." he warned him, an apologetic look on his sweet face. Derek just nodded.
Spencer hesitated a bit. He hadn't yet managed to take a real look at his boyfriend's injuries. He gulped uncomfortably, images of what those convicts had done to him flashing before his eyes - Derek hadn't told him what they'd done; he could only imagine.
Derek watched him slowly trace the bruises on his abdomen with his hands. His breath hitched for a second in his throat and his abs instinctively contracted as the pads of Spencer's fingers magically left goosebumps behind, as if his skin was a plain canvas and he was drawing onto it.
"Hey," he murmured softly, tilting Spencer's chin up with his index. Puppy eyes. "I'm fine. You told Garcia yourself."
"I know." Spencer nodded unconvinced, ultimately proceeding to gently press the gauze on his scratch to clean it.
Derek's abdomen tensed up once again. "Stings like a bitch, not 'a little'." he muttered screwing his eyes close.
Spencer slightly chuckled. "Come on, big guy." he mocked.
"Got jokes now?" Derek smiled through the pain. His grin did nothing but widen uncontrollably when, a second after, Spencer's eyes leveled up with his, to repeat the disinfecting-process on the cut on his brow bone as well.
He stared at his concentrated expression, the one where his pink lips parted a little to let the tip of his tongue stick out at the corner of his mouth. His pretty face so close it made Derek wish he could eat it.
When said expression changed into a deep frown, and Spencer's hand detached from his face, he guessed something in his own expression must have involuntarily hinted at him to do so.
-
"Does it hurt so bad? Am I- am I hurting you?" Spencer worriedly broke the silence, catching in Derek's eyes a concerning glimmering that had replaced the warm, knee-melting smile he was wearing before.
"No- nonono it's not- it's not you, kid." he shook his head vigorously in response.
"Then what?" Spencer asked, tossing the gauze in the small trash can before cupping the other's face in his hands.
Derek looked down at the small portion of ceramic-tiled floor that was separating them. "I don't know. I guess I just can't stop thinking about it."
"...about what specifically?"
Spencer was a bit afraid of asking him to be specific. Again, he didn't know what they had done to him and Kate - luckily, she only seemed to have a split lip. Guess being a big, black, male federal agent hadn't helped him at all. It never did. Spencer's heart ached at that every time.
Morgan sighed. "The only reason why we're here, is because Julio saved our asses." he met his gaze again only after saying it.
What could Reid reply to that? It was nothing but the truth. The team would've never made it in time if the convicts had continued beating them up - and God knows what would've happened then. He couldn't let his mind go to that place.
"What...what did they do to you?" he found the nerve to ask instead.
Derek shook his head a little, as if silently asking: 'what will it change once you'll know it?'
"Derek," Spencer gently stroked his boyfriend's chin with his thumb. "What did they do ?"
Morgan hesitated for another second or two.
"Alright. First," he raised both his hands in front of the other's face, to remind him of the bruises on his knuckles. "fist fight, of course. I couldn't see but- I think they literally threw Kate over the table and she fell on the other side..." he frowned deeply, realizing only then how shaky his voice had become. "They also stabbed the guard we were interviewing in his hip. You remember that one?"
Spencer nodded briefly.
Derek was getting a bit self-aware of how vulnerable he must've looked from his boyfriend's perspective. He continued regardless.
"Then they, uh...threatened us both with knives at our jaws." he dropped his eyes once again, letting a tear fall down and hit the floor.
Reid said nothing. He had to swallow the lump in his throat several times, but he said nothing.
Only then he noticed the wet traces some drops of water had drawn on Derek's pecs and biceps coming from the folded, damp t-shirt resting on his shoulder. He finally removed the piece of clothing and distractedly tossed it in the sink behind him; a crumb of relief was enough to lessen the creasing of his eyebrows when he saw his shoulder's puffiness had gone down pretty visibly.
"And this?" he asked, taking a towel to wipe dry Derek's skin.
Derek turned his head to look at his shoulder - like he'd forgotten about it for a second - feeling like a 5 lbs weight had been lifted from it.
"That's...when they tied us up and pushed me to the ground. I fell on this shoulder on the concrete." he sniffled. "and then just...kicks. Everywhere." Morgan waved a hand, gesturing around the area of his flushed abdomen.
'Tied us up'. Spencer suddenly remembered finding him like that, and being the one to cut the plastic cable ties on his wrists and ankles. He dropped the towel and took Derek's hands. The red marks of the ties had significantly faded away but were still there; his complexion not dark enough to conceal them. He could only imagine how evident they must've still looked on Kate's fair skin.
"And still..." Derek continued after a while, wiping the few tears he'd shed with the heel of his hand. "I- I just can't bring myself to blame them for feeling enraged like that. You know?" he asked, as if wanting Spencer to validate his thought.
He tilted his chin up again, and Spencer's shoulders helplessly dropped with the weight of sheer sadness when he saw the look on his boyfriend's face, and the flush around his eyes.
"Yeah. I get that." he paused. "But- but Derek, it wasn't our fault that those guards abused of their power- and killed that kid. We could only intervene once they called us. You know this."
The words didn't seem to solace Derek at all. But Spencer didn't know what to say - for once. He tried not to indulge in self-denigrating thoughts - because Derek always begged him not to - but sometimes he realized he really was of no help in comforting him, or at least not nearly as much as Morgan was for him; always having the right words and, if not that, surely a pair of strong arms to protect him. Reid didn't even have that.
He tried anyway - maybe he couldn't fiercely shelter him, but he could gently soothe him.
-
After a long silence, Derek felt soft hands once again cupping his face.
Out of the blue, Spencer started sprinkling kisses all over him - near the cut on his brow, on his bruised cheekbone. And then slowly flowed downwards, paying extra attention to press his lips gently on his swollen shoulder. And his hands left his jaw just to grab onto his waist, and scatter velvet kisses on the whole bruised area of his abs. And Morgan let him do it, closing his eyes because for once he wanted to try and give in to the fantasy that Reid could really kiss his pain away; and at each new peck, each new time his lips warmed up the skin lying underneath them while the tip of his tiny nose and the ends of his hair tickled him like the wings of a butterfly - each time he was convinced more and more that Spencer really had the power to take away his pain, and kiss Derek's way out of his relentless thoughts that only added to the physical ache of it all.
And he didn't deserve it, he thought as a new wave of tears heaped up beneath his eyelids. He didn't deserve any of it - any of Spencer.
"Spencer..." he whispered his name, and the other's face rose up again to level with his.
He snaked a hand behind Spencer's neck, entangling in his silky hair, and slipped an arm around his torso, and he kissed him. He took his lips in his as if trying to do the same for him, to return the favor. And when his tongue languidly made its way inside Spencer's mouth, brushing past his plump bottom lip and curling up with his as if it could get any deeper than it already was; and a breathy moan escaped those lips that he was trying to cradle into the same comfort they'd cradled his body before - he took that moan as a sign that maybe it was working, that maybe he was managing to strip out a small amount of the ache at least a quarter as successfully as he'd done with him; a different kind of ache but in no way less wrecking.
Spencer's lips broke out of that kiss that left them breathless but asking for more at the same time.
"I- I don't wanna hurt you and I- I still have to bandage you up." the words were nothing but a shuddering whisper against Derek's mouth, at that point.
"You're not hurting me. You're healing me, Spencer."
-
Spencer's heartbeat increased to a point where it was deafening his ears. He parted their foreheads and stared deep into Derek's black eyes, like he could find the answer to why he would say such a thing if he stared long enough.
"Everything you do. You heal me." the man added.
He dropped his gaze down to the floor to hide from Derek's sight the tears that were on the verge of spilling out of his eyes, drawing his eyebrows together intensely in the attempt of pursuing that task.
"...it's the bare minimum I can do." he murmured, his voice was shaking way too much now for him to keep pretending Derek couldn't hear it.
He swallowed and shook his head to pull himself together.
"Now, at least let me do that properly." he smiled with glossy eyes, achieving the goal of receiving Derek's smile back. Only his smile made him feel 100 miles above earth level.
He un-wrapped his limbs from around the other's neck and reached down to take the roll of gauze. He untucked the end of it to press it on Derek's front, asking him to keep it in place while he encircled his torso with his arms to make several laps around it, trying to cover the whole scratch as well as the most part of his bruising - he hoped the bandage could work as another layer to lessen the soreness whenever Derek accidentally bumped into something or pressed against it.
While doing that operation - slowly, still afraid to hurt him - he was inevitably close to the point of feeling Derek's breath on his skin, especially when he had to lean forward to pass the gauze roll from one hand to the other behind his back.
Derek's face inched closer and nuzzled his nose and lips lightly against the soft spot on Spencer's neck below his ear, making him impossibly ticklish.
"You're de-concentrating me." he reprimanded him jokingly.
" 'm sorry. Can't really help it. Though you should work on your attention span." Derek felt the other's smile against his skin.
"Luckily enough, I'm finished." Spencer finally stood up, grunting at how numb his legs were. He couldn't help but notice yet once again how, for one reason or another, his knees always hurt after he'd spent time with Derek. Even if he tried as hard as he could, though, he couldn't recall one single time where it was due to an unpleasant reason...
"Hope it lasts..." he added, forcing his mind to shift away from that topic.
Morgan mirrored his motion and then reached a hand out toward the hook on the door with the intention to grab his clean t-shirt; which he would've managed to do if it hadn't been for Reid beating him to the punch.
He threw him a glare with his head slightly tilted, followed by an overly dramatic eye-roll. He gave up at last, putting his hands up to help Spencer slip the t-shirt over his head, trying not to burst out chuckling at the adorable smirk playing on his face.
-
They walked out of the bathroom and into the other room. Derek sat on the bed and slowly laid down on his back.
He let out a heavy sigh, shutting his eyes with his palm. "Why do I have this feeling that NO sleeping position possible won't hurt?"
Spencer stood still beside the mattress. "Well- I can- uh, I can sleep in the other bed it's no big deal, I don't want you to lose any more sleep..." he suggested half-heartedly as he started to take a step back from the bed, biting the inside of his cheek and scratching the back of his neck.
"What? Nuh-uh, no way pretty boy, I need you here and now." Derek replied, gaining a wide, timid smile from his boyfriend. He carefully propped himself on one elbow and grabbed Spencer's wrist to pull him closer toward him.
Spencer crawled beside him and laid onto his side, spooning him. He figured it was the less painful position: it didn't put pressure on his left shoulder, because he was lying onto his right side; nor on his abdomen; and last but not least, Derek was never the type to sleep on his back. That was gonna be his excuse if asked - he sure as hell wasn't gonna ruin his "know-it-literally-all" reputation by revealing that he simply loved being the big spoon.
He pulled the comforter over them, before wrapping both his skinny arms around Derek's broad body; one enveloping his middle, the other his shoulders, sneaking from beneath the crook of the man's neck. A warm sensation spread over his chest, only increasing when he heard a faint sigh of contentment slipping out of the other's nose.
Derek switched off the lamp on the nightstand, finding himself a little surprised when the beginnings of drifting off to sleep came so easy, embraced by the man he loved more than anything on this planet.
-
He felt Spencer's soft, slow, damp kisses tracing from the crown of his head to the nub of his spine; and then the tip of his nose brushing up and down that same trail.
"I don't know what good I did to deserve you, kid." he whispered after a while. He could easily bet that got Spencer all blushy and cute - not that he could see him, but he'd come to learn by heart how to make him flush a long, long time ago.
"If you don't stop saying these kind of things I'm gonna kiss you senseless." Spencer replied, playing tough - which came off cuter than he'd probably wished.
I’m hereby naming ‘Derek whump’ its own sub-genre. Poor guy got whumped through four seasons of Teen wolf, and this episode is one of my absolute favorites! Hoechlin just nailed the pain, anger, blood loss, shivers - and it goes on for most of the episode.
I've finished the Emily whump fic and it will be posted tomorrow, so with that being said, that leaves me open to start writing my next fic. I wanted to poll my followers and moots and see if there was a preference for which character you wanted next, so please vote in the poll below if you are so inclined!
Grammer correction *all fics are whump* (I love being an English Major)
Which Fic Next? [all fics a whump]
Spencer x BAU-Reader
Derek x Non-BAU-Reader
Aaron x Unsub!Reader
Voting ended onNov 2, 2024
Thanks for taking the time to give me your feedback and have a fun night! - Levi 🎃
