Aug 15, 2022
sometimes I update my fic 👀
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
seen from Iraq
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Denmark
seen from Brazil
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Philippines
seen from India
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from Philippines
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from Russia
seen from United States
sometimes I update my fic 👀
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
so I AM still writing my Clownin’ Around verse and uhhh the next fic in it is part continuation and part flashback fic of pre-villain Stiles when he and Derek got together so here’s a sneak peek I guess lol
*
Quietly as he’s been taught, he closes himself in his fathers old study, musty with disuse. But as he turns to press his back against the behemoth oak doors he spots a figure frozen with a hand hovering over volumes of legal tomes.
It’s a boy. A boy Derek does not recognize. But he’s… beautiful. Beautiful in a way only youth can be. He’s hardly mature, can’t be older than driving age. Far too young for Derek to be drawn to in such a way. Nonetheless his feet carry him to this person, his honey eyes wide and pink lips gaping.
Then the book he left hanging falls on his foot and he curses like a sailor.
“Son of a motherfuck!”
Derek bites his lip trying not to choke on a laugh. “Are you ok?”
The boy puts the book back into its place and rubs his face, “Yeah? Yes! I’m fine, who needs two feet anyway? Everyone loves those dog with missing limbs. They’re quirky, I can do quirky!” He stops, looking at Derek’s face, and realization colors his face. “Oh god, you’re Derek Hale. This is your house! Your party! Fuck, I swear I wasn’t going to like steal anything or snoop. Well I guess I was snooping but not maliciously! I just..” he seems to deflate and Derek glances at his chest, the suit that fits him tightly in all the most flattering places. It’s custom, not new but not well used.
Meaning he's not a trust fund baby looking for expensive booze or other mischief rich kids get up to at these sorts of things.
“I needed some space from over perfumed ladies and gentlemen who can’t keep their eyes to themselves.”
Derek frowns, “Has someone bothered you? Should I-“
“No! No I’m fine really, besides my recently broken foot. It’s just a lot. Ya know?”
“I do,” Derek smiles, looking down, and it’s not only at the slip of Beacon accent in that last question, which was… charming. “Why’d you think I’m in here as well?” When he raises his eyes he sees a faint blush on the boy.
He looks practically coquettish.
Derek wants to feel disgusted with himself, does to an extent, but still he's unrelentingly pulled into this person’s atmosphere. He wants to circle him like prey.
“But you’re Derek Hale…”
“So?” Derek approaches behind the desk right next to the boy, smirking when his breath catches as Derek places his hand over the boy’s on the solid wood. “I’m far more interested in who you are.”
The boy scoffs, breaking the charged moment, “You shouldn’t be, I’m just Stiles.”
Derek doesn’t understand the self deprivation, but he’d like to. He wants to understand everything about this—
Stiles.
Derek isn’t a good man, better than some, but he’s hardly perfect. And that’s never been more evident than when he leans into Stiles’ space, breath brushing his mole dotted throat, “Just Stiles? No, I have a feeling you’re much more than that.”
Stiles is panting hard as Derek drags his lips up to his ear, positioning himself behind him. Hand over hand, flat against the wooden desk top. Derek’s other on Stiles’ waist, while long graceful fingers reach up to thread into his hair and twist.
It stings blissfully and Derek can’t help but wonder how a teenager knows what strings to pull to make a grown man’s knees weak. They’ve barely touched and both are damn near gasping for air. They haven’t even kissed.
“Stiles.”
It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud, and he promises himself he’ll say it a million times more. Until he can’t remember what his life was like without its taste on his tongue, dug into his heart.
Later, he does wish to forget, and it’s far too late.
When Derek gazes down to the face of this creature his grin is razor sharp and his eyes lidded. Where was the clumsy kid from a few minutes ago who couldn’t even hold a book right? What was even happening here?
“Are you trying to seduce me, Derek Hale? We both know I’m too young for you,” eyes glittering in the overhanging light, “unless you don’t care. I won’t tell.”
“How old are you?” He has to ask. He knows he won’t like the answer and is in too deep for it to matter, but he does ask, pointlessness aside.
“Hmm,” Stiles hums and Derek feels the vibration through his entire body from their connection of chest to back. Fully dressed with a complete stranger and he’s never been so aroused. “Old enough to know what’s about to happen. That it’s dangerous. That you—we should be worried. But you aren’t one of those middle aged well to do’s in your ballroom are you? If I’m more than just me, I bet you are too.”
“Why?” Derek’s head is pulled back by his hair once more and his mouth falls open in a moan, “What am I then?”
Stiles angles Derek’s open mouth to his own, “Why? Because I find you just as interesting as I’m pretty sure you find me.”
Their tongues touch before their lips. Someone groans into the kiss but Derek’s head is too lust filled to discern which of them it was. Stiles tastes of the sweet champagne, of spit and a wildness Derek can’t begin to fathom.
He’s just a boy. He tells himself. He can’t be all that I’ve made him up to be in such a short time. A stranger, a kid, a guest invited into my home. A siren, Lolita, everything that I never knew I wanted under my hands. Under my skin.
They part and Stiles bites his wet lips, voice thick, “and as for what you are—“ right Derek had asked a question. He wishes he hadn’t so they could devour more of each other without pause. “You Derek Hale, are someone who enjoys danger. Am I wrong?”
series link ⬇️
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Ooohh I posted to my Clownin’ Around verse, enjoy!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
so uhh [throws confetti] new Clownin’ Around ~
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
yooooo i finally did it, here’s some new Clownin’ Around ;D
Listen I just saw Suicide Squad and I'm so fuckin pumped to write this part for my au ok, IT WAS SO LIT JFMUUUU, here's a sneak peek: Derek breaks off the kiss and slams Stiles against the car, taking a step back. "Stiles I thought you were dead!" "Come on Der, fuck me on the hood. For old times sake." "Stiles please..." "Yeah, just like that, beg for it!" Stiles snaps, pissed and hurt. He's going down, why not make it worth it.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Part 4 of Clownin’ Around Word Count: 10k
It’s pointless to allow himself any grief. He made his choice over and over, would still make it. But his traitorous asshole of a heart is doing some wonky shit, and he kind of wants to puke or cry. Or both.
Has seeing Derek Hale really made you this fucking brave?
Has it? Is that what was happening? Was it brave standing up to Theo the way he did? Or is he as good as dead the next time they run into each other?
Damn, breakups are the worst.