Do you have any surfing aus? Missing summer TOO much right now and would adore some sterek in the water.
Cutback by WonderWolf (1/1 | 19,323 | PG13)
“You’re the only person that can help us and we need a place to crash. Can we stay at yours? Just for the week? I promise we’ll be quiet and—”
The feeling of dread quickly turns to panic and Derek forces out through a tense jaw, “Who’s ‘we’, Scott?”
Scott’s face morphs into a look of sadness and pity before he responds with a defeated, “Me and Stiles.” He tenses, as if to brace for the rejection Derek is sure to give him, because there’s no way that Derek would agree to house his ex-boyfriend for a week, even as a favor to his brother. Not after everything that happened, after the devastating heartbreak he still hasn’t fully recovered from.
He takes a deep breath and sighs, “Okay,” despite every intelligent part of his brain yelling at him that it isn’t a good idea.- - - - - -Scott and Stiles are pro surfers in need of a place to stay for their upcoming competition. Out of all the things Derek expected this summer, being asked to house his brother and ex-boyfriend for one week wasn’t on the list.
Everything's Better Under the Sea by tryslora for teas_me (1/1 | 19,985 | R)
Everything changes when Derek goes under while surfing, hits his head on a board, and sees a man with a tail swimming away. He wants to know who that was, and what it has to do with Beacon Hills, the one place he never meant to come back to.
Hypothetically by alisvolatpropiis (2/2 | 6,630 | NC17)
Stiles holds his hand up to shield his eyes from the sinking sun, its orange-yellow light reflected infinitely across the vast, calm ocean. As utterly stunning asthe sunset over the Pacific is, especially while floating leisurely on a surfboard a few hundred feet from shore, it’s a mere backdrop that pales in comparison to who he’s looking at.
Derek Hale, whose eyes are their own oceans that Stiles feels like he’s been floating on since the first time they met. The older man’s eyes are as ever-changing and colorful as the sea they’ve spent the day on, a palette of greens and blues filigreed with gold around the pupils. And if that weren’t enough, the rest of Derek is also transcendentally exquisite: high, arching cheekbones and a chiseled jaw, although that particular perfection is a bit obscured these days by his ever-thickening beard, night-black like his hair, nearly shoulder-length but almost always knotted in a messy bun at the crown of his head.