Part of my forbidden fruit series, before Unforgettable.
Stiles first day on the job and he can’t stop thinking about Derek taking him apart over his husbands desk. To bad his husband is a stickler for professionalism and refuses to indulge him. That’s okay though, Stiles loves a challenge. (Please note: Stiles never crosses any lines when it comes to convincing Derek, very much more of a competition on who can hold out the longest rather than convincing him he wants to.)
Porn with plot basically.
17k plus words. Complete but I have it at in progress while I wait for artwork by the ever impossible (because she’s so fucking amazing it’s literally not physically possible) @faevorite-main-blog (should hopefully be done soon, YAY)
Stiles let out a low whistle as he took in the room.
There was a couch, up against the back wall, it had a window behind it, and Stiles vampiric husband had the curtains drawn tightly closed, despite it being the middle of the day. It made the light in the room completely artificial, but didn’t take away from the classy classics professor vibes that echoed through every aged book stacked neatly into the shelf’s along the side wall, and jewel toned cushions and rug decorating the couch and floor.
There was a small table in front of the couch, it had a lot of paperwork strewn about, and Derek’s jacket hung over the arm chair instead of the coat rack next to the door. Stiles pictured Derek with his sleeves rolled up, glass of whiskey in hand, as he worried over documents late into the night. He wondered if that was the image his husband had created on those nights he hadn’t returned home until late.
Yeah, Stiles was having sex on this couch, that would be a thing that happened. Consider that his only goal from this moment forward.
“I’m going to have to call you back,” Stiles jumped. For some reason, despite the fact that he had just stormed into what he had only just been informed was Derek’s office, he hadn’t actually been expecting Derek to be present.
Stiles spun, snapping his gaze away from the deep green couch, and over to where Derek’s voice had sounded, and then all thoughts left him.
Screw the couch, Stiles will be having sex on that desk!
He was getting hard just imagining it. Derek looked so regal sat behind its imposing bulk. It was wide and heavy. The thick polished wood giving him the look of a school principal, or a collage professor, or fuck, an in charge FBI agent, ready to bend him over and take what he wants.
The space was messy, but in the neat organised kind of way Stiles had come to associate with his husband. Files laden with papers poking out haphazardly between their manila barriers, and stationary littered all over the top, looking out of order, but Stiles knew that it was in the perfect spot for Derek to reach out and grab, without having to look and know what he was taking.
Finally there was a laptop in the center, and he knew it was impulsive, and destructive, and probably a little bit privileged of him, but he wanted nothing more than for Derek to stand up, wipe an arm across it’s rich dark wood, and throw Stiles down atop it, expensive belongings be damned.
His imaginings were aided by the disgustingly handsome man sat relaxed into the most comfortable looking chair he’d ever seen.
Honestly this whole office made the one he’d been so proud of at his old job seem like peanuts.
What a step up from the bull pen.
“Stiles,” Derek greeted when he’d ended his call, and it managed to shake Stiles out of his reverie, if only for a moment.
“Let’s fuck,” he announced, smirking slyly.
Derek quirked an eyebrow.
“No.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
IT IS COMPLETE! Yo it is FINALLY finished. And I dead ass forgot to post it on here. It has actually been done for about a week so I am really sorry for my tardiness posting it here. Below is a small snippet of the epilogue,
WARNING does contain spoilers.
Also I apologise for the spelling and grammar errors, I always seem to miss a few.
I’ve put a keep reading because it’s a lot of words, hit that to read the full snippet and his the link to see Stiles crush it as a lawyer.
FINALLY, thank you all so much for the most amazing reviews and compliments, all of them undeserved. You are so fucking amazing and I can’t tell you how much this all meant to me!!! I love you all.
“This is not going well,” Stiles hissed into Derek’s ear five days later, the last day of Gerard’s trial.
“Shh,” Derek hissed back, Stiles ignored him.
“Like on a scale of one to ten, one being the best outcome possible, and ten being them overthrowing the case and handing Gerard the presidency, this is a fucking one hundred,” he continued, and Derek turned to him with a quirked eyebrow.
“What could be worse making a sociopathic megalomaniac President?” Derek pondered quietly and Stiles looked to contemplate the question for a moment.
“Making him an omniscient ruler of the universe,” he suggested, and Derek nodded judgmentally.
“Yeah,” he muttered to himself, but loud enough for Stiles to hear, “it was my own fault for engaging.” Stiles frowned and pinched his side.
Suddenly there was a banging from the front of the room, “I will have silence in this courtroom,” Judge Ryder sneered towards them, “if you two are bored of these proceedings, please feel free to excuse yourselves.”
Stiles bit down on his snide response and slouched back into his seat defeatedly. From the corner of his eye he could see Gerard ginning manically, victory well within reach, but Stiles refused to give him the satisfaction of looking over.
Derek turned a bright shade of pink at being called out and choked out an apology that Stiles didn’t plan to echo. This whole trial had been a show.
“He’s just drunk on power,” Stiles huffed quietly once the rooms attention slipped back onto the defences expert they had on the stand, he was currently ripping their own expert testimony apart. Derek didn’t respond this time, just gave him a swift kick to the ankle in warning. “Ow,” he griped and glowered at his husband.
“The defence rests your honour,” one of Gerard’s many lawyers announced smugly and sent Derek and Stiles a mightily superior look as he sat down. Stiles doesn’t regret poking his tongue out at the man for a single second, not even if it earns him another ankle kick.
“And the prosecution?” Judge Ryder asks reluctantly, and turns to face their own team of lawyers the DA of Sacramento lent them. Babies, the lot of them. Stiles was sitting just behind the babies as it so happened, and so he was privy to their hushed conversation.
“Do you have anything?” The man asked leaning over to first chair, a woman in a clean cut pants suit who Stiles could tell really wanted to win, she just didn’t know how.
“After that?” She muttered in shock, “no way, we’ll just leave it for closing statements and finish it then,” he heard her whisper back, and Stiles was growling and then springing forward out of his seat faster than anyone could catch him.
He leaned over the railing, into their little brain trust and pulled both of their seats back until his head was neatly in the middle of them both, just as she was about to tell the judge their decision and hissing a little harsher than necessary.
“Don’t you fucking dare say that!” He whisper shouted, and the whole room erupted in hushed mumblings.
“Excuse me?” The woman balked back, shocked at his intrusion.
“Order!” Ryder yelled, banging his gavel incessantly, “order!”
“If you don’t discredit that testimony right now, you may as well make your closing statement a resignation letter, because no one will hire you after that.” He warns, and he sees a flare of anger shine in her eyes, for a second he thinks she’s going to do it just to spite him, but looking sideways at the jury, she turns back and leans in closer.
“What do you mean?” She asks genuinely interested, although clearly still pissed off.
“You cannot let that be the last thing the jury hears,” he tells her, a bit more calmly now that he knows he has her attention, “they will come into closing already on the defences side, do you know how hard it is to win a jury back with closing, harder than you can achieve I’ll promise you that.”
She growls at the challenge, “Well what would you suggest?” She demands.
“Anything is better than nothing,” he growls.
“Order!” Ryder orders again, and finally settles the court room down,
“Don’t let the the doctor go, cross-examine,” he pushes her, voice urgent. She rolls her eyes.
“And just what could I say up there that wouldn’t make him sound more convincing?” She questions clearly losing faith in him.
“Stiles,” Derek hisses more worriedly from behind him, “sit down,” he tries to tug Stiles back into his seat.
Stiles shrugs him off, “Look at his watch, his clothes, for fucks sake his tie pin has a diamond on it,” he growls, and both lawyers flick their eyes to the so called Doctor.
“Agent Stilinski, you have five seconds before I hold you in contempt!”
“Stiles is so badass,” Erica whispers to Lydia beside her.
“I still don’t understand,” the lawyer whispers back, eyes panicked now.
Stiles growls and hangs his head, “I don’t know his name,” he urges her and then lets Derek pull him back finally, and glares heatedly at Ryder.
“Are you finished?” The judge asks, rather condescendingly.
Stiles just holds his hands up as indication, refusing to speak.
Ryder looks disappointed that he couldn’t kick Stiles out, but looks back towards the prosecution lawyers who stare back wide eyed. “Well?” He prompts, “do you wish to release the witness or not?”
The woman freezes momentarily, and then looks back towards Stiles. Stiles bulges his eyes as an indication that she should do what he said already, and she gulps before placing her hands face down on the desk, and using them to heave herself up slowly.
Stiles reflected back on the expert witness and his testimony. He was clearly only here to throw doubt on all of their accounts, unfortunately he had done a very good job of it, and the look on the juries faces, prior to Stiles outburst, was very compelled.
His main schtick had gone along with the theme of Gerard’s entire defence, and that was, ‘the prosecution is mistaken’. He had given evidence that a person like Joseph could be mislead to believe he was following Gerard’s orders, that he was crazy, which was true, but not in that way. He had taken all of their testimonies into question by implying a lack of objectivity, and since this was just a trial on his involvement with Joseph they couldn’t use any of the evidence they had found connecting him to senators and joint chiefs to compound their argument, since that was a much more confidential trial.
Stiles closed his eyes and the woman, Cassidy Taylor, turned away from him and looked up at the judge. This was not going to go well.
“Your honour we do wish to cross,” She spoke shakily and Stiles cringed, he willed her to speak more confidently, not show any fear, and then suddenly, his wish was granted. “Yes,” she said with dawning realisation, “we do,”
Stiles flicked his head up, curious as to what caused this abrupt change, and saw her grinning over at him.
It would seem she had a plan. Stiles felt a tremor of nervousness run up his spine, because she seemed dangerously certain.
“We do,” she repeated, and then stepped out from behind the desk and made firm eye contact with the judge, it was enough to have even Ryder shifting in his seat, “but to do the cross, we wish to invoke emergency council.”
Stiles eyebrows flew to his forehead, and the courtroom, again, erupted into murmurs. That hadn’t been what he was expecting.
Derek looked to him with the same question in his eyes that was floating around Stiles mind, “does she mean you?”
I haven't posted when I do chapter updates in a while (I know, I’m sure you were all just hanging on by the edge of your seat for them!!) but if anyone is still interested, I have just posted chapter seven of my Fic ‘Unforgettable’.
I know it seems like a daunting read because it’s a bit long and unfinished but I regularly post new chapters and I’m getting super good reviews from people who have read it. Like I’m not super confident about my writing so I hesitate to say it isn't just some sort of shared, intercontinental, delirium, but they like it and I think they're fucking awesome for it so you should give it a go too.
Stiles watched Derek leave with a sentimental smile pulling at his mouth. It was so damn awesome to feel his touch again. He had missed it. Not more than he’d care to admit, since he had never been shy about expressing his love for Derek in the past, but certainly more than he thought he would. He supposed having the case, and Dereks life in the balance, was a fairly decent distraction though.
“Stiles I know you think this is a win.” Stiles threw a hand up, stopping his father from saying anything more while the last deputy wondered out the door behind his husband. Finally, they were alone.
He took a moment then. To refocus his mind. To pull it out of that blissful complete feeling he had now that Derek was once again free to come and go as he pleased, and directed it towards the absolute epic betrayal his father had orchestrated.
“You’re so lucky.” He hissed and this seemed to shock his father.
“I beg your pardon?” He replied indignant. Stiles shook his head, constantly surprised at the intensity of his fathers arrogance.
“I said you’re lucky,” He repeated straightening up to face the man fully, disapproving glare pasted across his features. “Lucky that I never gave up, lucky that I have an incredible team, just so damn lucky that we were able to stop this clusterfuck from continuing any further than it already had.”
The Sheriffs glare hardened into a defensive type of anger and he crossed his arms at the accusations. “This doesn’t mean he’s innocent you know.” He growled and Stiles almost shouted in frustration.
He didn’t though, instead he laughed. Although it was with malice. “Do you even realise what just happened?” He asked but gave his father no time to answer. “You almost put an innocent man on death row. He would have died if it wasn’t for us, and do you know why?”
“I-”
“Because you were too busy finding a way to make this fit Derek that you almost missed eight other murders!” he spat, careful to keep his voice below a shout. The last thing he wanted for for the whole department to hear him.
His father had the good sense to look mildly ashamed then, “I made a mistake,”
Stiles scoffed, “That wasn’t a mistake, that was negligence.” He hissed stepping forward into his fathers space. “Any other case, any other team, and they would sue you for persecution so hard the city would have your job faster than you could blink.”
“I know,” he muttered. It was clear he hated not having the upper hand. “Stiles please you just have to trust me about him.”
“No!” Stiles faulted and raised his voice momentarily. He let a second pass so he could regain his composure and then tried again, “No,” he spoke with a deep warning in his tone, “This is how this will work. We are going to go home for the night, and tomorrow morning we will return back here, bright eyed and bushy tailed, and when we do, we are going to find the most open and cooperative sheriffs department, it’s going to look like it’s run by Mary-fucking-Poppins, and you will never make a single move to try and implicate Derek in anything, ever, again. No matter what evidence you have. And if you do, I will rain every version of false arrest, persecution, and harassment law suits known to man against you so unrelentingly you’ll think you’re a tax evading celebrity and I’m the king of the mother-fucking IRS coming to collect my gold.” He threatened menacingly and for a moment, his father actually looked scared. “Got it?”
Scared he may be, but the Sheriff was never one to admit to it. He swallowed loudly before narrowing his glare and nodding, but not without heat.
“Seems I don’t have a choice,” he commented and Stiles smiled sarcastically.
“Good, you’re catching on.” he said and then spun on his heel to leave the cells.
He hated being in there. He always had. Even when he was a kid and would come and visit his father after school he always avoided the cells. Which was odd considering he found a way to crawl in just about everywhere else. Still there was something about them. They just felt so… hopeless.
Stiles wasn’t surprised to find his feelings hadn’t changed in the years since. He’d visited many a prison, and they had all been as dark and soul sucking as the last one. He hated the thought that he had left Derek to rot in here for four days before he could get him out.
Speaking of Derek, Stiles had spent entirely too long away from him again.
Hey guys. I recently updated my current fic in the forbidden fruits series Unspeakably Desirable.
link here : https://archiveofourown.org/works/30839885/chapters/77291357
would love to hear your thoughts and ideas.
here is an excerpt and I’ll post a sneak peak of a later chapter tonight here so make sure to check it out.
excerpt:
“Stiles please?” He heard Scott shout and it seemed close by so he quickly turned towards the noise and barely stopped to think about the name Scott was calling.
“No,” He heard Stiles shout back and wondered what they could possibly be fighting about. “I have had enough!” Whatever it was, it was serious. Never in his life had he witnessed Stiles shout like this before and he sped up a little.
He came towards the edge of a car when he noticed Stiles menacingly advancing on Scott with the kind of rage Derek usually reserved for shitty younger brothers himself. It seemed Like even Derek wasn’t going to get the chance to kill Scott because Stiles was going to do it first.
Derek moved to step in and break up what would undoubtably be a massive fight but stopped when he heard what Stiles said next.
“I fulfilled my end of this stupid bargain.” He growled darkly eyes ablaze. Derek had chosen a good spot. He could see everything including the terrified look morphing on Scotts face and it gave him pause. “At great sacrifice and pain for me.”
Dereks interest was officially peeked and he ducked down slightly to avoid getting noticed. He felt very childish as he did it, like he was invading Stiles privacy but he couldn’t make himself leave either.
“I know,” Scott murmured and Stiles exploded.
“Do you?” He asked overtly loudly and even Derek flinched. “Because I’m not sure that you do. I did everything you asked, I ended everything, I hurt everyone, and yet still you’re forcing me to bend to your will and why? So that everything that makes Derek good and kind and loving is washed away? So that you can beat him?” Derek becomes frozen in shock. What on earth was Stiles talking about? Did Scott know about them?
“No that’s not it-”
“Well I am done, I don’t care what you say to Derek, make up some shitty excuse if you have to but you find another way to explain my absence because I will not go in there to be humiliated and turned into this horrible person I don’t want to be, just so I can help preserve the pride of such a pathetic excuse of a human. Especially when all my presence will do is hurt the one person I have ever cared for, and who has already been hurt more than he should ever have had to be.” By the end of his speech Stiles eyes are overflowing with tears and his breathing his heavily laboured and no one is moving.
Not Scott, not Stiles and certainly not Derek who’s mind is spinning in about fifty different directions. Stiles couldn’t possibly be talking about him right? After all he was the one who dumped Derek. Left him for another man.
Derek curses himself. Stiles has to have been talking about Isaac not him. He felt his hopes crash like falling bricks to the ground and clenched his fists in an attempt to stop his own tears when Scott finally spoke up again.
He was still staring into the depth of rage and pain Stiles was unendingly shooting at him but swallowed any fear and tried anyway, “You’re right.” He said so softly Derek almost didn’t hear him.
As it was it seemed to send Stiles for a six.
He reeled back in shock. “I beg your pardon?” He asked face full of suspicion but no less emotion, and Scott straightened himself up from where he had hunkered against the door of a car.
“I said you’re right, you’ve been right this whole time and I’ve just been too blind to see it.” Stiles stumbled back now refusing to believe what he was hearing.
Sterek, Best friends brother/FBI/Falsely accused fic.
OH-MY-DAMN!! You guys I am writing this fic and I am just so freak-diddily-eken excited about sharing it with you my toes are curling!!!! It might not be out anytime soon (maybe a couple of weeks to a month) because it’s a part of a series but it was my original fic that everything else sort of feeds off of and I am so in love with it. That being said, the series at the moment is about Stiles in high school and this one is super in the future and they are married and in blissful love. so a fair jump and a bit of a departure from the lives they are living now but for real. It needs to be put out there and I don't have the patience to wait until I write all the filler fics so they will be added retrospectively...
HERE IS THE PITCH! READ THIS...
(heavily inspired by a criminal minds episode but not following the same plot. NEW PLOT.)
Derek is the head of the BAU. Stiles and Scott are both members on the team (plus other teen wolf characters obvs). Derek goes home to Beacon Hills solo for the anniversary of Lauras death when a murder occurs. The Sheriff (warning, he is not an awesome person in this, very NOT awesome!) who has hated Derek for-eh-vor connects it to him, PLUS twelve other murders INCLUDING the death of his sister. The team have no idea that the Sheriff is Stiles dad until they get there and start yelling at each other. There are so many twist and turns. Derek is being framed, (duh) and Stiles and the team work tirelessly to save him. They find out who it is in the end. There is a rush to catch them. A gun stand off. Lots of loving speeches... SOMEONE DOES GET SHOT, and not in the arm or leg either. Life threatening shit!
It’s my best writing guys. Seriously I’m by far not the best one out there but I think this will be mildly enjoyable. It isn't complete yet and I still have a small 20k fic to post next but I am 60k into this one and it is going so great!!!
Let me know if anyone is interested in a long sneak peak!!!
Honestly this chapter is so specific it’s hard to post an excerpt so instead I shall just post the summery and a link again. This is such a fucking good chapter guys. I have had so many comments already and pretty soon I’ll be commissioning the winners request for art. I can’t wait.
Alright…
Derek is the head of the BAU team at the FBI. A team that his husband and brother also find themselves a part of. The rest of the team (other teen wolf characters) consider themselves a family but how much do they actually know about the three boys from Beacon Hills. Like did they know that Stiles dad is the local Sheriff? Or that the man HATES his son in law? Or that Scott once blackmailed them into breaking up?
Well when they get a phone call one day that Derek, having returned home solo for family reasons, has not only been arrested, but arrested for 13 different murders, and that the Sheriff is the one accusing him… well they’re about to learn.
Will they figure out how to free Derek? What about catching the real killer? And if they do, will it be on time….?
WORDS: 93,492k and counting
Chapters: 10/? (Probably 16 depending on how I edit the last chapter. WIP but complete on my laptop. I am a very reliable writer.
Language: English.
Pairing: Derek/Stiles (married)
Additional Tags: Derek and Scott are brothers, Smut (just sometimes and skippable but kind of graphic…) Major Character injury
As an Australian, it felt wrong to say that but I did it anyway. To anybody keeping track (and those of you who are, I fucking love you for it!) chapter eight be here and it, got, smut! Plus some other stuff like plot and banter, a little bit of embarrassed Scott, but mainly, the smut!
Honestly the smut isn't heaps and easily skippable, but it is relatively graphic so keep an eye on that!
“Where are they?” Jackson grumbled petulantly from the communal couch in the lobby. It was in keeping with the theme of the rooms they had been forced to board in for the last few days, drab with a touch of antique roadshow thrown in. Jackson struggled to sleep knowing that any second the next creak of bedsprings could be his last.
Lydia had managed to sleep soundly as though even the prospect of death was beneath her. He constantly wondered why the red headed goddess wasted her time with him but he wasn’t about to push the envelope asking her about it that’s for sure.
As it was, right this second she was giving him the stare that meant he’d either said something monumentally stupid, or epically naive. Jackson would put good money on both.
“Let’s see,” she started and already Jackson was regretting opening his mouth, “Two, in love, married men, not leaving their room, the night after being reunited. What could they be doing?” She asked with an air of mocking seriousness. Jackson sneered in return. Theirs was an odd relationship but it had depth, you just needed to know where to look.
“What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on that wall.” Erica muttered watching through the lobby window dreamily and they both rolled their eyes in tandem. See, true love.
“Your obsession with other peoples sex lives indicates a severe lack of your own,” Boyd offers distractedly while he read the paper next to Jackson. Erica turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.
“You offering?” She asked salaciously, placing her carefully manicured hand on her wicked hips.
Boyd didn’t even look up from his headlines, “Pass.”
“Fifty says they’re doing it by the weekend,” he hears Allison mutter to Lydia on his left.
“Sweetie, I don’t bet on sure things.”
Yeah, Jackson is just about ready to crawl out of his skin now. “Maybe someone should go and get them?” He says jumping up from his chair, “They could have just slept through their alarm.”
“They’re fucking,” and okay, they didn’t all need to shout that at him at once. Even Boyd was staring at him in judgment.
Jackson grumbled as he retook his seat.
“Hey guys.” Everyone looks over as an unusually perky Scott McCall meanders through the sliding doors. Jovial grin giving him the air of a newly carefree man. “Where’s Derek and Stiles.”
“Don’t ask.” Jackson muttered grumpily but Scott ignored him, leaning in to place a sweet kiss on Allisons cheek.
“They aren’t down yet,” She answers with a much nicer cadence than she’d used to shoot Jackson down. Scott frowned checking his watch.
“I thought we were meeting at seven.”
“God not him too.” Lydia huffed plopping herself onto the couch arm at Jacksons side. He lifted his hand up to drape it comfortably around her waist and leaned his tired head on her lap.
“Can we all go back to bed then?” He whined and his fiancé scoffed but a petite hand began to comb through his hair so he figured it wasn’t heated.
“Sure,” Boyd said from beside him, “and when Hale does come down and you aren’t ready and raring to go, don’t blame us when your hide gets tanned.” Jackson twisted his head to glare heatedly at the man.
“Awfully vocal these days Boyd.” He growls, not appreciating the dressing down. Boyd raises an eyebrow at the challenge but otherwise leaves the gauntlet untouched. Instead he straightens his paper and pointedly looks down.
Scott coughs awkwardly and motions towards the elevator holding a duffel bag. “I’ve got to drop this off for Derek anyway so I’ll just…” and he trails off naturally as he carefully backs towards the opening doors, “so yeah.” he finishes as he hops in.
Lydia shakes her head in disappointment causing Allison to question her.
“Dumbass still doesn’t realise what he’s about to walk in on.” she says waving a hand around in explanation. Jackson smirks then, taking a sadistic pleasure in Scotts misery. Or soon to be misery at least. It’s the small victories that count the most.
