#I mean i have heard of her as perpetual and lover of big e in some cases

[theonetheycallhannah]

A Mage’s Beginning-Part Two

Summary: Anathema and Geralt continue their evening together learning more about each other and Anathema makes a big decision...but not a very difficult one, in the end.

Pairing: Geralt/OFC (Anathema of Velena)

Word Count: 4742

Rating/Warnings: E for language, mature themes and situations, smut, smutty smut. 

Part One here 

Inspiration: Same as part one, just taking things to a sexy place in part two.

Author’s Note: So, here’s where things get steamy, friends! I’ve gotten explicit in some places, but in others, I decided to let you use your imaginations. (One of my favorite sayings, after all is “I don’t have a dirty mind, i have a sexy imagination!” lol!”) 

Tag List: @sunflowersstan @mylittlepartofthegalaxy @mstgsmy @lareinedususpense @geekycanuck @lunedelorient and @littlefreya Please let me know if you want to be tagged or if you want me not to tag you in things! I will not be offended! 

"I don't recall saying I'd mind sharing a cozy space with you, Ana." He used the short form of her name and it sent shivers through her. Only her closest friends and Tissaia ever used that name, and she was fine to let Geralt be among that elite.

"I assumed…"

"Mmm, bad idea, assuming. Haven't you heard?" As if to punctuate the joke, he stroked her ass.

"Geralt, I…"

"Don't. Don't lie to me. Just as you can sense a witcher, I can tell when someone wants me. I can smell the change in their bodies. Hear it in their pulse. See it in the dilation in their pupils and the blush of their skin. You can't hide it, Ana." He spoke all of these utterly irrelevant and obvious words in his guttural growl. All sounding like variations of his signature "mmm."

"Geralt, no, that's not what I mean. You're completely right about all of that, of course. But that's not why I hesitate now."

He looked at her, apparently concerned that he was dangerously near his word cap for the day.

"I'm very attracted to you. I won't deny it. But I'm not…I haven't. Fuck how can I even get into this at my age?"

"If it's something I need to know, like a disease, or something, don't mince around it."

God he was thick. The thickest. His thighs had nothing on that skull of his. Nothing but a canon was getting through it. For all his insight into other more physical things, how could he not sense something like this?

"I've never been with a man, you dolt." she rolled her eyes. The moment seemed to wither with their libidos. A virgin. How could she still be a virgin. It wasn't even a question. It was an accusation. A criminal charge.

He scowled, shook his head, something like a whinnying horse, and replied, "Fuck does that matter?" and he kissed her deeply and warmly. Firmly but tenderly. She started to bend to him. She would do this if he was willing to take her. But wait. Her sanity prevailed.

"Wait, wait, Geralt." she said around his lips and tongue. She still felt drugged. Damn, she could have done that for hours.

"Haven't you waited long enough, little mage?" he went for her mouth again, but she put up her hands to his chest to firmly protest.

"Yes. I have. I really want this. I promise, I do, but…I'm going to want to take things slowly. I don't know what to expect." Her hands were shaking against that cliff face of a chest he had. He took them in his, folding them together as if in prayer, and began to kiss them.

"In short, pleasure." he breathed out a laugh. He was sure of himself. She rolled her eyes. "We can go at your pace and I'll talk you through everything. We can take all night. Or several nights, if you like. Just know that I'm not bothered at all by this. I'm actually honored. I feel…privileged. You have nothing to fear from me. I only want for us to enjoy ourselves together." he pulled her back out into the main area in the tent and sat her on the chaise lounge near the top where the back and arm were.

"We are just going to kiss for now. Okay? If you want me to do more, just…move my hands wherever you want them. And talk to me about how you're doing. I don't want to hurt you. But I might by accident if you don't tell me when I start to." she nodded that she understood. That wasn't enough for him. "Tell me that you understand."

"I will tell you if you start to hurt me or if I need you to stop." she expressed, adding the bit about stopping on her own. They were sat next to one another, his hand resting behind her on the low-sloping arm of the lounge, bracing him. She thought he seemed a bit nervous, too. His other hand lifted her chin so he could better view her face. His touch was surprisingly gentle for his size, profession, and the way he spoke. His next words were the biggest shock yet.

"You are so terribly lovely, Anathema." her eyes focused on him in that moment of vulnerable expression. Why was it so exposing to tell someone that fact about themselves? Why did it seem to say so much about you? She had trouble reciprocating the compliment, even though she felt it…by the gods, did she ever feel it. She could only manage tearful gratitude. She couldn't remember being told of her beauty. Even after her ascension. After she truly saw it. "You really are. These eyes of yours. I'm lost in them." he leaned in to envelope her mouth in another kiss. This one, only her third ever, was gentle and measured, and didn't press for entry as the previous one had. He was content like this. And it was splendid. He kissed well, with his hand bracing her nape to maintain the proper pressure. She turned her body to him. She wanted to touch him.  One arm found his back and smoothed the fabric of his tunic over the warm granite of his sinew. The other landed lightly, and she thought, harmlessly on his leg near his knee. She heard him inhale sharply through the nose and groan into her mouth, increasing pressure on her lips.

She knew this meant he needed more of her. And she was beginning to feel the same. She parted her lips for him. His tongue entered tentatively, but quickly became right at home. She wasn’t expecting him to be so…active. So nimble. He was tasting every inch of her mouth. Inside and out. Lapping, nipping, and kissing around her mouth to tease her. It was working. She was giggling and he followed suit.

“That laugh. It takes me to a better time and place. It’s the most magical thing about you. And it’s all you.” What was he doing to her!? She pulled him in again, needing his mouth. She swung her leg around the other side of the chaise so that Geralt was essentially sitting between her knees. She shimmied closer. She wanted his arms around her. His hands feeling her. She needed him to just take control because she couldn’t do all of the work here and concentrate on the sensations.

“Put your hands on me, Geralt. Hold me. Do what you will. I’ll stop you if you’re going too far.” she begged. It went against the grain a bit, to plead to him like this, but at lease he wasn't the kind to take advantage or devalue her as most men would. It was all he needed to hear. He shifted so that he was now above her, one foot on the floor, the other knee on the cushion. She felt as though he was trying to pull her up into heaven the way he kissed her and held her neck and waist. She didn't know why he was bothering when she was already there. The pressure of him was so exquisite. She didn't know whether she would implode from it, or explode.

Her hands couldn't remain idle, themselves. They were on a sensory mission to explore his tunic and trousers. Such a different sensation now than when she'd been cleaning and mending them. No longer containing mere whispers and memories of him, but his warm, solid flesh incarnate. Her touch, light and teasing, had spurred him on to advance their kissing session to a more vertical position. She succumbed to him again, to the pressure of his bodyweight now advancing her back onto the pillows behind her, ones that she'd chosen to be decorative, but had become suddenly very welcome in a practical sense.

She'd been right to reserve the term "ravenous" during their dinner. She hadn't seen anything yet. His mouth sought every inch of her mouth to conquer, and when it needed a break, it retreated a while to her cheeks, and forehead, and chin. To her ears, neck, and sternum. She felt fire being fanned inside her at his onslaught and was beginning to lose her mind. What to do? Then like lightning, something primal in her that had been stirring since she'd met Geralt woke with a bolt. A creature to match the one driving her lover. She suddenly knew what to do to get relief. To quench that fire for a time.

Her wrap dress was already slipping from her thighs. She flicked it away with her knee to free her throbbing center. She used her legs to pull Geralt's thigh closer to her drenched, hot body, needing contact, and somehow knowing, even as a novice, that nothing would do right now, except for him. He growled at the naughty act, she giggled, until suddenly, it was not funny. The leather hit her center and she began to twist and thrust her pelvis against his leg. Her slickness gliding so easily against it that she had to keep herself from going too fast. Or maybe she didn't. She already felt something building. Maybe she should go with it.

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, Anathema?" he gently and respectfully asked the pointed question that very few could get away with.

She hadn't. She'd heard tales of girls in town losing their virginity by riding horses, so she'd always insisted on riding in a cart or carriage if she had to go anywhere back then. Not that she went many places. She found out later, much to her embarrassment that those stories were myths perpetuated by her mother to keep her modest and "pure," in spite of the fact that this irony could not be overstated.

And although Sapphic rumors teemed about the lady mages of Aretuza, she'd never been involved in anything of the sort…not that she hadn't been curious. And not that she would have turned down an invitation if she'd received one.

And she just hadn't known enough about her body to really try to make that happen on her own. Even though she knew it was possible.

She shook her head, and stopped thrusting dead in her tracks.

"You are free to continue doing that all night, if you like. But if you're ready, I'd love to give you your first one. What do you think?"

"What…what do you mean?" she asked. She wasn't trying to be dirty, but she really was curious what he meant to do to her.

"I mean foreplay, sweetheart." he brushed a tendril of sweat-dampened hair away from her face. And continued. "I'll use my hands and fingers, my tongue, if you want. You'll need quite a bit before we go all the way. It gets you ready for me, and it will feel incredible."

She said nothing, just stared at him with a faraway shyness in her eyes. She was considering what this meant. If he was ready to go on to this stage, he'd be ready for sex soon, too. And she wasn't certain that she was. But maybe the next step would be the motivation she needed. She nodded.

"Stop me though, if you don't like what I'm doing, okay?" he prompted sternly. Somehow, she knew this required a vocal response.

"Okay, I will." she nodded again.

"May I?" he asked, hands already beginning to untie her dress. She moaned her assenting response. He planted a centering kiss between her breasts, then moved clockwise around to her right nipple, up her neck, savaging her ear and kissing her deeply and with marked poignancy before descending the other side. Every kiss, nip, and touch of his tongue made her delirious. He anchored again in the center of her sternum, and descended. She squirmed beneath him, feeling every breath out of his mouth and nose course through her like a hurricane. Each touch, a lightning strike. She felt the tectonic plates in her body shifting under his handiwork. This was so alien to her. She loved the feeling. She tensed when he reached her pelvis. There was no accounting for these nerves, but she was feeling them, nevertheless.

"Relax, kitten. This part isn't going to hurt at all." The emphasis he put on the words "this part" caused her some dismay…it implied that there would be parts that would hurt. That was unnerving. But she couldn't think too much about that when his mouth was on her bare skin. He was teasing her without mercy. Kissing and licking all over her lower abdomen…her pelvis…her thighs. Then he growled…or at least that's what she thought it sounded like.

She looked down and tried to decipher the look on his face. It was almost the same look he'd had before they started dinner tonight. When he was washed up and ready for his meal. Hungry. Was he hungry again? Looking…at her? Blessed mother, he wasn't going to…but he did. He laid a gentle kiss onto her trembling mound. He was just breathing over her. Warming her already smoldering body. She writhed again. She felt a strange, hollow ache deep inside.  A painful emptiness was creeping over her body unlike anything she'd ever felt. It was most prevalent in a place that she didn't remember thinking about that much before. Somewhere adjacent to her bladder. It felt almost like a spinning top, wound too tightly, and made to spin for far too long.

He inhaled her again, all around her hips, teasing her, avoiding that spot nearby that was alight with nervous energy and ready to engulf them both in an inferno with the next tiny spark. She hadn't even realized it, but she'd been writhing beneath him, eager for contact. For friction.

"Easy, little tiger. I've got you. I'll take care of you." he smiled against her smooth skin. "It's just…your scent. I needed more of it before I went on." he didn't elaborate on what he was smelling, or why he needed it. She assumed it was a combination of the lilac in her soap and bathwater, and the rosewater she used to soften her skin along with her natural musk coming out as she got warmer.

He spread her as far as he could now, and reached out a calloused finger to her middle. She'd never felt this sort of touch. She gasped at the newness as he rubbed the little hood over her urethra. She thought she'd heard it referred to the clit in impolite conversations at Aretuza. Conversations in which she could not participate actively because of lack of experience. She moaned as he continued, varying his patterns and methods. He added a second finger, eventually, sliding one up and down either side of the trigger point. She didn't know what to do with herself. She couldn't form coherent thoughts anymore.

If she though she was going insane with just his touch, she was in for quite a shock given what was about to happen. As his fingers slid out of the way, his lips immediately replaced them. The sensations couldn't have been more different, but gods, how she loved them both. She was learning very quickly what she had been missing all of these years. And so far, she thought she might end up making up for lost time.

He sighed as he began laying open mouthed kisses to her quivering heat, tasting her body as she got wetter and wetter. It seemed the more he had of her, the more he wanted. Before long, the pleasure was almost more than she could stand. She wanted to stop him. Push him away. But it felt too good. She held on to the back of the chaise supporting her, now in more ways than one as he tortured her with the sheer bliss of his mouth.

She felt a digit graze her flower in gentle exploration as he continued his feast. He tested her, watching her for a reaction. She looked at him and just nodded. She was ready to have him inside her in some way or another. He breached her slowly, tenderly, searching for and quickly finding another doorway to ecstasy that she had no idea was there. She bucked her hips up, thrusting into his mouth, not expecting the surge of pleasure his touch would bring. She felt him giggle against her. She loved the sound, in no small part because, from what she'd learned thus far of the man between her legs, it didn't seem like his life was filled with much laughter. She'd not only been witness to a rare thing, but caused it to happen. That made her feel more powerful than any magic she'd learned so far ever could do.

He slid another finger inside her, spreading her deliciously, and filling her exquisitely. She shuddered at the slight twinge it caused her. She thought about his…well, she remembered several things together, actually. She remembered him implying that there would eventually be pain. She remembered his cock swinging thick and low as he stood naked before her. She remembered being put under for her transformation and being very sore in several…womanly places when she awoke from the anesthetization. She suddenly put together all of these thoughts like a puzzle and got a new, somewhat startling picture. When he had sex with her…real, actual sex, that would absolutely hurt.

She somehow had room for both the current pleasure and the impending fear. She tried to focus on the former. His fingers and mouth were miracles, finding all of the right places and doing all the right things exactly right…if this was so right, how could having him inside her, REALLY inside her, be wrong? He was picking up speed and pressure. Her breathing quickened and her body tensed. She could feel something about to happen.

"Let go for me, baby. Feel it. Enjoy this." his instructions weren't specific, but they were helpful enough in encouraging her to release whatever she'd been holding onto, tethering her to the physical plane. And the pressure inside that he'd been building for her suddenly exploded like a tiny bomb inside her. She was shattered, but whole. Fractured, but complete. Lost in nirvana but certain now of what was next. Her body pulsed with blood and spasms as she rode out the waves of her first ever orgasm. The first of many, she was certain. And more than a little hopeful.

"Oh, Geralt. Is this normal? Does it…does it always…feel like this?" she asked dreamily as he kissed his way up to her neck.

"You're very sensitive, Ana. Since you've never done this before, it will be very intense for you for a while. Until you get more familiar with it." he stared at her, caressing her blissed out face with a satisfied and smug grin. His lips looked so inviting, wet with her arousal.

"Come 'ere." she pulled him down to her easily. She was full of thoughts as she kissed her flavor from his full lips. She thought about ever getting used to what she'd just experienced. She didn't think it seemed likely. She also couldn't get the picture of his naked body out of her mind. What must he be like all cleaned up and smelling nice. She ran her hands down his abdomen to his bulge, which threatened to damage his newly repaired trousers. She palmed and squeezed him there gently.

"Geralt, I want it to be tonight." she assured him. She was beyond done being a virgin, and Geralt was the one she wanted to usher her into womanhood. He'd been doing so well, and who knows? They could be dead tomorrow. Why wait and risk it?

"You're sure, Anathema? You want me to do this to you?"

"No! Geralt! I want you to do this FOR me! I'm ready, you're incredible, and I want it to be you."

"Well, let's say I'll do this WITH you? Okay? I'm not doing it here, though. This is not the place where one is deflowered. Lead me to your bed, maiden, so I can make you a maiden no more." he said coyly as he stood and pulled her up as well. She took him by the hand and they walked toward the area where her bed was. She let go of him and slid the wrap dress off her shoulders, as it was barely hanging on, anyway.

Geralt was working at the laces of his tunic. Anathema didn't feel this was a prudent use of time, however and spelled him naked with a mighty wind.

"That's convenient." he laughed as he stepped forward to wrap her up in his crushing kiss. She replied in muffled fragments that when strung together sounded something like, "I never have occasion to use it. And it was terribly awkward to learn at Aretuza."

"You never mentioned naked women in your rant earlier this evening." he teased.

She poked his ribs and backed him onto the bed.

"Who said we practiced on women?" she asked, climbing atop him, and pinning him to the bed with a hungry kiss of her own. He raised his eyebrows. "We practiced on rabbits in human clothes. But ya know. Sometimes we'd miss." she teased. He flipped her over in a show of unquestionable dominance. Playful, but absolutely in charge.

"You are a feisty one. I like that."

"Yeah?" she asked, breathless through his drowning and drugging kisses against her mouth and neck and oh, gods, every-damn-place.

"I like breaking in a wild filly. It's a challenge. One I'm more than up to." as if to punctuate the statement, he ran a firm hand up her neck, not choking, but implying his ability, and grinding his hard member against her. She gasped.

"But tonight," he continued, "I'll make sure to go easy. Your first time shouldn't be like that. We have plenty of time for…well, everything." he lifted her enough to pull back the bed coverings and laid her back down, properly this time, in the center of the mattress.

"Now, I want to ask you one more time. Are you sure about this?" he looked uncertain, himself. She didn't take it personally as she might have so many years ago. She knew his uncertainty was not a reflection of her desirability, but rather a concern that she was finally succumbing to a societal ideal and taboo all together. Because once she fucked Geralt, she would no longer be a prude. She would be a whore. And there would be no in-between. It didn't matter. She didn't care. Fuck everyone who had ever called her a prude. Fuck everyone who would ever call her a whore. Fuck everyone but Geralt…ironically. The one person she was about to literally fuck.

"I'm sure about this, Geralt. I'm sure about now. And most of all, I'm sure about you." she reached for the nearest bit of him, his hand, and grabbed it. She squeezed as tight as she could and smiled full of hope and excitement. He kissed the hand that had found his, and held it to his heart.

"Know that this means something to me. And it always will. No matter what becomes of us. Tonight is special to us both, Anathema." And with that heartfelt sentiment, he spread her legs.

He dipped his mouth to her center one last time to make sure she was ready for him, lending his tongue again just to make sure. Then, kneeling above her, he took his length in his hand and paused, looking at her. He was so close to her. She could feel his body heat radiating into her. Almost a touch.

"Ready?"

"Yes, Geralt." she didn't beg, but the words fell almost wanton from her lips.

He went into her little by little, causing her sweet agony. He went so slowly. She half wondered if it might be better to just have him slam into her. But she dared not ask. This was too perfect. Just when she thought there couldn't be any more of him, more is what he gave. His face was left her awestruck. The picture of agonized restraint. It did two things perfectly. It showcased just how difficult it was for him to show that restraint they discussed before; for which she now felt in his debt. It also made her want him to keep going. Harder. And faster. She knew he would, once she acclimated to the disparity in their body sizes.

She slid her hand up his rippling arm, over his sinewy shoulder and clasped it gently over his neck. His eyes met hers as he met the resistance inside her. Sparks flashed in her periphery and the canvas above her spun and wavered as if a tornado was about to snatch it right up from the supports and stakes. But there was no wind. There was only Geralt. Geralt, who was now beginning his slow thrusts. Nothing could have prepared her for the sensation of having him inside her. The pain of it was so delicious. This wasn't like the pain of an injury, as was her concern. This was like getting out of bed after a long sleep and stretching your muscles. That ache that came from using something long dormant. Which was exactly what was happening.

"Oh. Yes. Geralt!" she exclaimed as he quickened his pace slightly. Gradually. His mouth began working on her upper body. From her breasts to her ears, he ravaged her with love bites and wet, suckling kisses, and the filthiest nonsense in her ear she could have ever imagined.

"Ana, it feels so good inside you." That was one of her favorites. She didn't know she needed the words from him along with everything else. The touch, and the thrusts which grew faster by the minute. She could feel herself building tension again like she had earlier. She was eager  for another, but something was holding her back. She wasn't sure what it was.

"I'm gonna come inside you very soon, okay?" she nodded, but voiced a concern.

"Geralt, I don't think I'm going to be able to do it again." she didn't mean to sound so worried or upset. But apparently she was. And in her heightened state of arousal, she couldn't mask it.

"You can, baby. Of course you can. You can do it ten times as often as I can, and not to brag, but that's saying something. I'll help you, kitten." and he reached between their bodies and touched her again, never breaking his stride. She replied in the affirmative with a strangled "fuck," and continued to ride the waves of pleasure through her pinnacle and then his, hot and fast inside her. She had the presence of mind to take note of the sound he made as he lost himself. It was a guttural, almost feral grunt filled with pleasure and relief. She felt a swelling of pride. She couldn't explain it because, intellectually, she was sure that pretty much anyone could have given Geralt what she just had, but on the other hand…they hadn't…and she had.

"Wow!" Ana said, breathless. Limp. Satisfied.

"You can say that again." Geralt replied in the same manner, and equally spent. Rolling to her side, but still touching her.

"Can we DO that again?" She asked eagerly. He laughed, which made her smile and turn towards him and play with his skin, dewy from exertion.

"We can. I would like that very much. But maybe tonight we get some rest. We have a difficult task ahead of us in finding out what decimated this city, and if it's what I think it is, it will take all of our combined skills to defeat it." he said, somberly delaying their next romp and bringing the matter that had brought them together back to the forefront of her mind.

She'd had her suspicions, as well, but didn't want to be right, and certainly didn't want to think about it after such a beautiful milestone in her life.

"Okay. But, will you please stay with me?"

"After you conjured me such lovely quarters?" he teased. She nodded sheepishly. "Of course, little witch. If that's what you want."

"It is, witcher." she grinned haughtily at him, pulled him closer, and with a wave of her hand, cast the tent into pitch blackness.

~fin~

[jettremy]

24 for cas :p

( * seven minutes in heaven ~ PART ONE. )

                    ➥  (   24.  )  trailing kisses from stomach to mouth.

           WHEN SOMEONE DUMPS YOU & takes a big fat chunk out of your bleeding heart, you usually don’t end up making out with them on an uncomfortable, tiny as shit closet floor after four excruciatingly languid years of no contact whatsoever, or at least that’s the case 99.99% of the time. that rare, peculiar and quite miserable 0.01% consists of the world’s tallest dweebus & his besotted memey edgelord who are in the midst of producing a well composed symphony of sharp intakes of breath and light humming that might just be heard on the outside of the closet door if a curious ear happened to be in the close proximity of it. even though they’re S O L E L Y making out for the time being, the smooth glide of their mouths, the home-like familiarity cassius’ embrace delivers, and the aching NOSTALGIA for better times lure these obscene noises away from jeremy’s vocal cords, causing the faint moans to slip into cas’ oral cavity and resonate in his lungs, the vibrations transmitting the t o r t u r e d artist’s inexplicable need for the older, equally sexual & emotional. his in comparison two-centimeter-smaller hands trace every available inch of the other’s body, getting REACQUAINTED with all the dents and curves and in a way testing his memory when it comes to the data his tactile senses have previously stored. once they’ve trailed and teased the skin atop cas’ entire spine, jeremy’s salacious fingers become entangled in the soft peachy locks on the back of cas’ head, tugging briefly in order to coax a sound or two out of the one on top before slamming their lips together deeper and deeper each time. he fails to be embarrassed at the telltale whimper he emits once their burning tongues lecherously tantalize each other since this is the man who’s aware of jeremy’s tendencies to get vocal & noisy when at their most intimate, and above all because this is the man in front of whom he has no shame, the man who knows even the dustiest, most moldy corners of his being like the back of his hand. jeremy’s cautiously leaning back inch by inch, his strong abs tensing and allowing him to do so until one of his elbows reaches the floor and he’s slightly propped up. his unoccupied hand gets busy kneading the flesh of cas’ inner thigh when a B I T E to his luscious bottom lip ends their kiss in order for them to take a breather. his other arm joint accompanies the previous one on the floor and jeremy’s stuck gazing at cassius with a leer plastered on his amused face, as if the older put all the stars in the sky for him.         ❛     you adorable piece of fucking shit … you’ll be the DEATH of me, y’know that ?     ❜         a throaty chuckle’s added for the emphasis before he, abruptly and without a warning, drags cas up on his pelvis, where he belongs. his big browns are invitingly flirting, and vomit-inducing butterflies slam at his innards when he detects cas leaning down for another round of desperate lip-locking. except, his digits find a job for themselves on the small buttons of jeremy’s silky dress shirt. sure, they have only a few fucking minutes and they won’t manage to get very far, but who is jeremy lee to stop cas from doing what his little heart desires ?

           ONE QUICK SWIPE of skeletal fingers unveils a highly contrasting dark ink etched into a pasty, fleshy torso, displaying an artistic canvas in the form of jeremy’s chest & hard-to-maintain abs. among the scattered graphics, there’s one inspired by the splendid man atop, and it torments jeremy’s thin, dilapidated HEARTSTRINGS when he dips down to join his lips with that exact spot, the reposing male’s eyes naturally falling shut as he succumbs to the older’s ministrations and the gratification they give him. he can’t say he gives a damn about what he’ll look like when he exits the closet, with a collapsed hairstyle and devastatingly crinkled dress shirt, a suspicious, k n o w i n g look on his visage whenever he so as glances at his ex-boyfriend during the rest of the night, doesn’t concern with brainstorming about all kinds of gossip that will spread like wildfire due to the two of them allowing themselves to enjoy each other’s company in the way they truly desire. he’s jaded, enervated because of all the HIDING they’re doing, as well as concealing their once existing feelings in front of the group. he delightfully wants to inform everyone about cas’ favorite dishes he used to tirelessly, blithely cook for him, their hilarious adventures and the fact that he knows the older’s body better than his own, rant about his adorable, captivating quirks & kooky habits, brag about how he could make him blush without trying much, or please his every need. perhaps not every - if he had been capable, then maybe cas would have stayed, would have made it work, or would have taken jeremy with him, who was pathetically prepared to go to the ends of the world for him and with him, still is. perhaps then it would have been harder to leave, would be more HARROWING for him to be in jeremy’s immediate vicinity, perhaps then all of jeremy’s delicate touches would incinerate his whole being, both gnaw at & heal his ruptured, defected heart. perhaps then he’d feel like jeremy does, perpetually suffer just like him, carry a chest full of separation anxiety & a constant crippling bellyache, like an abandoned child ( which, coincidentally, he was ). it’s insane, worrisome that after all this time he only has HIMSELF to blame for not being worthy, good enough for cas to stay, for him to seek him out, reach out, check whether he’s well and with a pulse, say he misses him, thinks about him, smiles or cries when their memories inevitably surface from time to time, that seeing bikes on the street reminds him of the breezy rides jeremy would take him on, that tattoos will never be the same after him, dial him even intoxicated, out of his right mind. and though jeremy always slept with his sound on and phone right next to his head, never dropped the old number, he didn’t get a single call. too fixated on feeling him right here & right now, savoring his coveted touches while he still can because no one guarantees that this will ever happen again, he doesn’t detect the burning wet trails rolling down his face, paints his battle with suffocation as himself trying not to moan due to cassius’ cushioned lips being too close to his leather belt. he’s terrified cas would vanish if he asks him if he missed him, if he loved him, if he still has a sliver of olden feelings within him, if this means more than just cas needing him physically, more than just their starving bodies being PERFECTLY COMPATIBLE. and even though he dons a convincing mask every day in order not to perturb & plague two and a half people who give a shit about him, as well as not give the likes of han yeseul any material to inhumanely gloat over, he hasn’t been fine for the longest time   ——   he can sense himself slipping more & more, hands itching to burn a joint or an abandoned building routinely, too often for it to be considered normal anymore. a sane person wouldn’t let themself be manipulated, tortured like this, wouldn’t be collapsing under their ex’s spell once again   ——   alas, he didn’t learn & has no intention of denying cassius anything, which he imprudently affirms when he ravenously, anticipatorily grips his styled pastel locks hard as he awaits the businessman’s tongue to come in contact & glide over his sharp v line, causing his stomach to hollow and dip with the gravitational force, towards his spine, his tactile receptors both enjoying the sensation and finding it too much to handle. he exhales some of the pain from his rotten, aching lungs, wistful, hopeless wails for love emitted in the form of moans, his toes curl as arresting ELECTRICITY speeds through his limbs, causing his not expecting muscles to tense & clench powerfully as cas’ immoral mouth makes its way upwards, molesting all the sweet spots he’s aware jeremy has. his plush lip is nearly mangled by his incisors as a response to his hypersensitive nipple being toyed with and he can no longer restrain himself, prevent his hands from h a r s h l y gripping his former lover’s hips and making him relieve them both by grinding on him as more of jeremy’s tears pitifully roll down his pale temples on either side of his face. it’s not long before he’s cowardly tilting his anguish-stuffed head to the side, not only to conceal the fact that he’s crying but also to expose his neck in sheer NEED for cas, a string of vile curses bouncing off the walls of the treasured closet as he gets caught off guard with light suction on his tender flesh, whispering a hoarse, growly you can, knowing cas would immediately know what it means. he wouldn’t mind being eternally branded as cassius’, he’d haughtily wear any expression of love given to him by the adorably taller, just like he, hopefully, at least once, wore the ring jeremy got from his biological mother & gifted him as a symbol of his undying love. though he’d get paralyzed at the visceral memories of cas dragging his lithe tongue over his jawline, all the way to his shell where he’d whisper to him, now he forces himself not to shut down completely as it happens, not even when he gets asked why he’s crying. a deflective just kiss me proves to be enough to avoid the otherwise exhausting interrogation he’d be trapped in if he took the bait & answered that inquiry. 

          A BIG, HEFTY PILE OF DOG SHIT is undoubtedly worth more to jeremy than any of han yeseul’s opinions or words and would consequently evoke more emotion within him than she’ll ever be able to. the human equivalent to an intestinal parasite with an eternal, fat, spiked stick up its rotten ass will never affect his state of mind even slightly, or cause him to doubt himself and his actions even more than a mere millisecond. her little spiel the other day came into one of his ears and immediately exited through the other, safe for a single tidbit of information with which she fucked herself over. if there were any truth to her retching-inducing interest in cassius, she brought jeremy’s attention to it and now he’ll do everything in his power to sabotage whatever she has planned, because he’d rather die than let her defile & corrupt, rob the walking talking piece of heaven called cassius hwang. on top of that, he considers his ex to be highly intelligent & skilled at recognizing soul-sucking, good-for-nothing, money-hungry, skanky snakes. again, why the fuck does kerry hang out with her ? for a moment, he’s concerned about the girl’s neural cells and healthy judgement, or lack thereof. she must be at least half brain dead to hang out with someone with zero positive qualities. furthermore, underestimating jeremy’s ELEPHANTINE ego, unvacillating confidence & cockiness is a rookie mistake no one in their right mind should make since the honey-mouthed rascal is so self-assured that he’s in result convinced that he can woo just about anyone you could point at in a crowd of people. it’s downright pathetic how she ridiculously presents herself as overly self-confident whilst her insecure, attention-hungry eyes always stray to check if HE’s watching whenever she is interacting with cas, that she feels the need to send him taunting texts as if she’s fucking desperate for jeremy’s reactions   ——   FUCK, maybe she’s foolishly trying to make him jealous because she’s obviously fucking obsessed with him & not his ex ?! regardless, her devious plan to demolish what he has with cassius will be nothing short of a FAILURE, which is only further proven by the way the heated pair refuses to make their bodies part even as they’re aware that the majority of their given time has surely passed. ‘ ONE MORE MINUTE ! ’ a voice echoes, disturbingly close to the thin door, as if the meddlesome person has been listening the entire time, to the duet of smooching noises & responding grunts, but jeremy has no more than an eight of a brain at the moment & cannot be bothered to figure out who the owner of it is. with his spidery, inked limbs faster than his awareness of the action being done, he flips cassius onto the ground with determination and cages him, forces him to look at his overweening, lordly face up close before kneeling between his squat-thickened legs & slowly beginning to button up his unfortunate shirt. midway, he becomes bored with the tedious, repetitive task and yanks cassius up into a sitting position to finish that mundane action, only for his shuttered eyes to unexpectedly roll, head carelessly thrown back at the sloppy neck kisses he’s willingly receiving as his rose gold shirt gets fixed into the best state possible regarding the fact that they spent almost full seven minutes messing around on the floor.         ❛     you know birthdays are sacred, right ? … you should spend it with someone who loves you .. if you get what i’m saying … ahm. let’s continue this tonight, after the party ?     ❜         the evocative offer hangs in the air as jeremy’s gifted, elegant digits find those of the lanky male’s in order to hold them   ——   instantly they detect an INTRICATE ACCESSORY around one of the fingers, mindlessly lifting his hand up to inspect it since he cannot for the life of him hold eye contact as he awaits the nerve-racking response that could have painful consequences for his exhausted heart. promptly his orbs shine with recognition, shifting hilariously between cas’ browns and the object of his interest so violently and swiftly that they threaten to turn into an endless slot machine. he’s devastatingly BAFFLED, shook to the core, heart racing & hands blatantly starting to tremble. it’s that feeling in your stomach that only appears when you’re at the highest peak of a roller coaster, cart making a terrifying pause over the edge as it prepares to lunge down, and you’re a millisecond away from screaming your poor lungs out, peeing yourself and puking all over your buddy, but in a good way, you know ?   ——   does this mean anything more than cassius simply appreciating the ring for its aesthetic value, and is there any hope for the emotionally mutilated tattoo artist ? he doesn’t dare open that pandora’s box considering how little time they have in the privacy of solely each other’s company, but he wants to showcase his acknowledgement & gratitude for the fact that cas hasn’t tossed the piece of jewelry in the first dumpster after their parting. he topples over the man, pinning him to the ground strongly and nearly suffocating with a flurry of emotional kisses, those which shamelessly expose just how touched he is by a seemingly small, unimportant thing to the outsider, which means the world to jeremy. what he is yet to learn is that the festive group on the other side of the door is ready to steal this piece of heaven away from them and disrupt what they have going on.        ❛    dae, it’s over, open it~ !     ❜         a particularly ( unnecessarily ) loud blonde amazonian shouts from the ridiculously boujee sofa once her phone startles her by having its alarm go off when no one in particular was paying attention to the device in question. shockingly obedient, daehyun gives the closet another awfully polite knock & announces that they will be letting them outside before poking their little head through the thinly cracked door, eyes innocently peering & needing a bit of time to adjust to the darkness before they yelp at the sight of the ongoing, all but chaste scene before them. embarrassed, with pink hued cheeks, they regretfully shut it and back away a little, whispering a few words of warning to the hot & bothered pair, so that they wouldn’t be discovered by the remainder of the group. they mentally smirk like the evil little minx they are, though, because their INTUITION was right yet again.         ❛     guys ! hurry up !     ❜         daehyun rushes them in now full on panic when their ears pick up on a set of dooming footsteps coming towards them chillingly, and they’re right to do so, making jeremy laughably snap out of it & pull back from cassius in a matter of seconds, as if his ex has been crafted from fucking lava itself. shit. he clears his throat & straightens up, aiding cas to his feet and brazenly winking at daehyun   ——  he’s convinced they’ll be taking this mutually shameful little incident to the grave anyway, partially because of their baseless & quite frankly ridiculous fear of cassius. the cogs in his overflowing brain surprisingly start turning swiftly & he masterfully begins pretending to continue a business conversation with cas, something about promoting his tattoo show on his radio station, as they step out of the closet & join the ogling bunch, not paying them the time of day since he doesn’t want to see their prying expressions and beady little eyes scanning them from head to toe as if they’re america’s most wanted criminals. he simpers victoriously when cas announces that the game should be over in order for them to get to the established birthday venue in time for their reservation, and as everyone casually packs up & moves outside towards the over the top limo, jeremy bluffs being busy looking for something in order to be the last one out with cas who needs to lock up the place, only to steal a sneaky peck & give his irresistible ass a squeeze sub rosa. he runs off to join their friends before he can hear cas potentially complain.

          A COLOURFUL DISPLAY OF AMBROSIAL DRINKS decorates the opulent, chic black table of the private booth, the grandest & most exclusive one in the entirety of the polished & tastefully stylized venue   ——   at the very arrival, a frivolous discussion was held about which celebrities might have sat in whose seat, neglecting the fact that KENT, OHIO isn’t HOLLYWOOD per se. jeremy has no doubt that this, along with the posh birthday dinner they attended prior to the nightclub, has only made a small dent in cas’ account   ——   a street rat like jeremy ( one that cassius’ affluent parents accepted warmly regardless of the fact that he wasn’t as well-heeled as them, for which he will carry everlasting gratitude in his heart ) could never imagine having enough money to splurge on a similar event he’d forget anyways if he let himself negligently dive into his notoriously reckless alcohol consumption. with his lonesome prepregaming, the drinking games they played, wine that was served along with dinner and this being their first round of drinks here, the architect equipped with a stomach of steel is still certain on his feet & clear in his mind, enough to pick up on a set of venomous eyes burning holes in his skull as he endearingly follows the birthday boy with his own pair of obsidians. since she’s withing an earshot & the music is yet to reach brain-liquifying levels, he scoffs & addresses her without allowing the others to sense any negative vibes.           ❛     give it a rest with the ogling, yeseul … you’re not my type. but it seems that doesn’t go for that dude over there, so be a p e s t elsewhere,     ❜         he motions vaguely until the literal demon goddess herself, chu yumi, comes to collect her frenemy ( & hopefully drag her back to the frozen depths of hell where they both belong ), buzzing about a threesome & whatever else jeremy didn’t manage to catch her ranting about due to her insufferable, fast speaking manner, and he can’t say he’s interested. though chumi has that same irritatingly-crafted, arrogant, emotionally fucking stupid vixen personality to her, at least he can go without taking her blabbing head off her shoulders whilst they’re together in a room for longer than five minutes, and he believes he could be tolerant when it comes to the other snake too only if she dropped her pitiful attempts to annoy him by messing with someone he obviously cares about more than anyone’s ever cared for her. alas, he was’t about to duel her & disappoint cas by quarreling and ruining his day, so he played it off as if he didn’t know she was staring at him because she was continuing to see through his bullshit, or however she phrased it that one time when she tried to lecture him. a light burn of booze down the throat deletes her presence from his already cluttered brain entirely & for the rest of the night he can’t say that she crosses his mind at all. it passes majorly with daehyun’s whiny, restless tugs & yanks of his silky sleeves towards the dance floor, and he ultimately does cave without being the single grim black sheep of the group, but he frequently goes back to their booth for a calming cigarette & another taste of alcohol, because without an intoxicating sip beforehand he physically wouldn’t be able to make a fool of himself carelessly in a dance circle. currently the artist is on a mini break in order for his feet & calves to recover, two pieces of a minty fresh bubblegum popped into his mouth after his last death stick; all alone in his seat, he’s checking the appointments he has for the next week, since he cleared the schedule for cas’ birthday   ——   the biggest pieces he already has all sketched up and confirmed with the customer, so he’s not too stressed about taking a few days off. he reflexively raises his unfocused pupils from the multicoloured pixels when he feels someone drop beside him, the deafening music preventing him from hearing their hard breathing, but he can see the hyper rise & fall of cas’ slightly sweaty chest. he carefully lowers his phone down onto the table, meticulous about avoiding a couple of wet spots from cocktail spillage, and offers the exhausted dancer his untouched glass of water, watching him gulp it down in seconds, making it disappear like a magician. always being generous ( philanthropic, even ) with compliments when it comes to cas, he leans up to his ear & makes sure to let him know how SEXY he was up on that dance floor, his hand unabashedly landing on his muscular thigh, the shell covered with nips & torturing, languid laps of jeremy’s tongue. light strokes & squishes interchange, as if he’s kneading dough under the table, and his free hand tilts the gorgeous, glowing man’s head towards himself. no one’s looking, he whispers nostalgically   ——   he frequently used to be on the receiving end of those secretive words when, nine years ago, they hung out in their neighbourhood & jeremy wasn’t openly CASSEXUAL, so he worried about kissing him in public in the fear of having his ass kicked by his homophobic friends. tonight, he’s the one to reassure the other that no one but strangers would discover them, and soon lazy, tipsy smiles melt & mold together euphorically   ——   it’s the club atmosphere, he assumes, heightening the sexual desire, since generally he would be more than fine with solely getting kisses for days, but now it’s as if he’ll wither & die if he doesn’t get the older on his lap immediately. a pleading let’s go gets repeated a couple of times in sheer need before the ache for cas’ body becomes so unbearable that he has to speak his mind.          ❛    leave the limo for them, tell the driver to pick us up in a different car. half of them have scattered already anyway, they won’t notice we’re gone. if they do, i’ll tell them i took you home because you were sick tomorrow.   ——   fuck’s sake, we don’t have to explain ourselves to them.     ❜         it doesn’t take too much convincing since when they look around there’s none of their friends in sight, most having found entertainment in each other’s or a stranger’s company. besides, they have the driver’s number shared in their group chat, as well as junhyuk having one of his own, as well as enough money to get each of them an uber SEPARATELY, so jeremy isn’t worried about those grown ass motherfuckers at all. he cannot recall the entirety of the following events, only getting some fresh air with cas before holding hands in the backseat of the car, small nuzzles exchanged as they did their best to keep their manners & not traumatize the poor employee. but he does clearly remember how they didn’t jump each other’s bones as soon as they set foot into the house, how they were both sober enough to know they really wanted each other, how they played it cool for a couple of minutes in the kitchen, or fuck   ——   maybe it was their ancient feelings crawling back, preventing them from doing it unemotionally, and instead setting up a slightly more ROMANTIC scenario than they would for a pure stranger.         ❛     ah, but am i really worthy of your super special, limited edition, exclusive, vintage, valued at approx. couple a’ thousands o’ dollars whiskey ? tsk, you flatter me, cassie.     ❜         a purr tickles the shell of cassius’ ear as jeremy presses his lean body against the older’s back. though he’s slightly shorter, he can still peek over the other’s shoulder and see him pouring some of the amber liquor on the rocks in two pricey glasses at the kitchen counter, and jeremy knows he could make him drop & spill all that money by catching him off the guard with his touches, but he can’t help it when his starving mouth grazes the side of his ex’ exposed neck, impatient hands pulling at the slightly tucked shirt & exploring the smooth flesh below. he hyperfocuses on the spot which elicits the loudest of noises, and he can feel a gulp underneath his tongue as cassius swallows his shot. he gives him enough space to turn around, one of his inklike brows lifting curiously as he gets offered his drink   ——   claiming his hands are awfully busy, he parts his lips ridiculously with the tip of his tongue poking out, bratty, daring but twinkling eyes observing him until he feels the liquid hit his tasting muscle, the excess spilling down the sides of his chin, luring out a few of his signature giggles. it’s as if a sudden switch is flipped when jeremy stops with his shenanigans & you could cut the tension with a knife between them when they both notice a glint in each other’s eye, rushing to collide their desperate lips, greedily suckling at each other & tasting alcohol, becoming braver & braver with each passing second, burning hands wandering, teasing, groping, pulling at the annoying garments as their backs hit the walls and counters in this lustful battle. and it isn’t until he gently grips cassius’ throat that they manage to catch a breath.         ❛     on your knees,     ❜         he commands calmly, unshakable resolution clear in his gruff voice. he knows cassius won’t be able to resist it, he knows his legs will shake at the sound of it. and why not bless a couple of different rooms, when they have the luxurious abode all to themselves ?

          ALL SPREAD OUT ON HIS EX’S BED, jeremy’s cozily resting on his v-shaped back with dormant cassius all curled up and preciously molded into his side. the younger’s swollen lips are abnormally, attractively crimson in color, all the hemoglobin rushing to those overworked, puffed petals which are now gingerly pressed in a nurturing, soothing pucker against a smooth, golden patch of skin on the SLEEPING BEAUTY’s no longer sweaty forehead   ——   he’s been awake for the past nine minutes, putting his all into convincing himself that he’s not lucid dreaming or perhaps high as all hell, painting the unreachable picture he’s been yearning to see for the past four years. he’s whispering the sweetest of nothings as loving, no longer held back pecks get delivered to the comatose features of the adored individual, yet he knows not even those would wake the snoozing giant after how badly, triumphantly jeremy has tired him out, combined with the numbing spirits they consumed during their celebrations. thanks to this unlimited  ‘cassius - vital information’  bank, he dexterously sneaks out of his embrace & dreaming nest, covering himself by a pair of fitted black boxer briefs which leave nothing to your devilish imagination, and heads out of the room in order to prepare one of his unmistakably appetizing culinary creations, which raise from the dead, obtain a glass of water & painkillers for a potential headachin’ beanstalk, but his quest is derelict once he hears commotion & a cacophony of bangs, hums & steps coming from the floor below   ——   it dawns upon him that cas isn’t the singular inhabitant of this chateau-esque manor and that having his studious, virginal mansionmate catch him at his peaceful dwelling this early in the morning and so scantily-clad would be a grand calamity. with a low curse murmured under his perfectly face-appropriate nose, he makes a swift half ballerina twirl & returns to his ex, an endeared smile blessing & stretching his pillowy lips when he sees the drowsy, dazed man blindly investigating the crinkled, still warm yet empty spot beside him in search for something or someone. HIM ? should he allow himself to dream that cas is needing him & thinking of him right as he lifts his heavy eyelids, and that he’s not hunting for an item as simple as his phone in order to check the time ?         ❛     hush, i’m here … i tried to go and make you some breakfast, but junhyuk’s causing a ruckus downstairs and i doubt you want him to know i spent the night …     ❜         jeremy thoughtlessly gives himself the right to assume cassius wouldn’t be overjoyed if anyone found out that they hooked up, let alone learned about their past. though the forlorn, anarchic tattoo artist himself has no problem with it, he’s convinced that cas would be devastatingly ashamed to admit his heart once belonged to someone as woeful, wretched, toxic & eccentric as jeremy, so he’s eternally thankful that taemin hasn’t squeaked to anyone about it yet. he dives deep into the softness of the most comfortable, homely mattress in the world, unlaxing on his side this time as he pulls closer the man who’s mirroring his position, the thick white duvet covering their nude bodies, safe for jeremy’s underwear slipped on in a rush. his restless, greedy hand finds its place on cas’ narrow waist and travels lower on its own accord, stroking & soothing each and every muscle it eventually reaches.        ❛    sore ?     ❜         an unhesitant nod lures a complacent, yet not too wide or toothy grin onto his amused features   ——   jeremy really did a number on him last night, but neither of them were complaining whilst in the heat of the moment, unbothered & unaware of both physical & emotional, inexorable consequences of their indomitable arousal & sweet sin.         ❛     tired ? hungover ?     ❜         the additional unreluctant affirmations cause a childlike coo to strum his vocal cords, and he brigs some needed moisture to his lips with a singular swipe of his proficient tongue before connecting their rosiness with his favorite pair in the world, heart pouncing humiliatingly when he feels a hand on himself as well, encouraging him to resume the session for at least a few minutes. here, right here, is his SERENITY, his SAFETY, his HEAVEN, his HOME   ——   right here in cas’ arms, where everything is okay, where the one who’s holding him is the one who’s to be credited for jeremy’s pulse not flatlining yet, for his insides twisting & curling, his palms sweating & toes curling, the one who makes him nervous & blissful, the one he wants to cry with and laugh with and live with for the remainder of his days on this cursed earth, the one he’ll love until the very last breath leaves his lungs, and even longer if anything awaits after death. he knows that a lifetime with this man wouldn’t be enough, that he’d be a REBORN BELIEVER, that he’d pray on his bleeding knees that death wouldn’t do them part. as the waltz of slippery pink muscles meets its end with a timid titter, jeremy’s caring thumb comes up to hastily wipe at cas’ bite-mark adorned lower lip, pecking over it as if to heal the lightest of imprints. he harmoniously entwines their fingers on the disrupted mattress between them, tracing the meaningful ring cas is still wearing, fondly, recalling seeing it in the closet, having flashes of his cerebration from back then, remembering their breakup, and the idyllic little bubble of bliss he’s been captured in since last night BURSTS without warning. gingerly, warily he brings their joint hands up to his quivering mouth & kisses the ring before wordlessly resting them down & gazing lamentably at the man he loves, as if he’s in mourning. he has no right to still be here, or talk about making breakfast and nursing him through a hangover, or even imagine hanging out for the rest of the day, cuddling, watching movies and maybe going for round number whichever. he yet again recalls their text exchange where cassius questioned if jeremy still had feelings for him, and he made it clear last night, whispering hushed I LOVE YOUs to him while they were making love repeatedly, and all jeremy wants to ask now is if cas has them too. he wants to beg him to spare him of all the misery, of tragic hoping, to help him either come to terms of it being fully over and aid him in moving on, or give him a reason to work on them, on getting back to what they used to be to each other, an improved version of THEM. but he can’t. and he has no right to try & sabotage whoever wants to get with cas, because he’s a free man with a mind of his own. all jeremy wants for him is to be happy, and he tries to convince himself that he’s been attempting to keep him away from bad people, but if they are the source of cas’ happiness, he’ll gladly step back.       ❛     have i overstayed my welcome ? should i go ?     ❜         he asks directly, eyes glassy and leaking onto the pillow below his tragic head. but all he wants to know is   ——   do you still love me ? can i have another chance to make it right ?

[dearericbittle]

Sterek masterpost

So, now that I’ve written 30 (!) Sterek fics, I figured it was about time that I made a masterpost of my stories. You can find the full list on my Tumblr as well!

Been here before and it just feels right (strangers tonight) - (T, 3.4k) Summary: Derek Hale was an awkward teenager, but he grew into himself. He grew out of that pulling pigtails phase. Shame that being reunited with his old crush brings it all back. Even worse: Stiles doesn’t even seem to recognize him. Or does he?

Better that I break the window (than miss what I should see) - (M, 9k) Summary: Someone opened Stiles’ window. But he’s all the way on the 7th floor - how the fuck did that happen? Spoiler alert: werewolves are real. And really hot.

Bring on the monsters (bring on the real world) - (E, 11.1k) Summary: He was supposed to be making an impression on Lydia, but instead he’s making fun of a terrible werewolf costume. To be fair, those mutton chops remind him of Michael J. Fox in the worst way, and the guy didn’t appear to be too offended. He was too busy smelling Stiles for some reason. He really shouldn’t have forgotten cologne.

but that’s just a first impression (I could be totally wrong) - (T, 2.9k) Summary: Derek is on a really awful blind date (Laura will pay for this). But the waiter is really cute.

The coolest wolf in the whole wide world - (T, 8.3k) Summary: Stiles is surprisingly good at being a wolf. Like, super good at control, loves the drama of making weird entrances, and determined to try all the things. Because he has to find out what’s different about being a wolf. And Derek is going to be his Yoda, whether he wants to or not. Only Stiles is pretty sure Yoda never smelled this good.

Detective Stiles Stilinski and the Case of Derek Hale’s Mysterious Mate - (T, 5.6k) Summary: Mates are a thing. A werewolf thing. Which is fine and shit, but finding out that Derek fucking Hale has a mate? That gets to him. And seeing as Derek won’t tell him who it is, well… Guess that means this is a job for Detective Stiles Stilinski - if he’s not too distracted by his traditional banter with Derek.

Everything mixed up (and baked in a beautiful pie) - (T, 6/6, 42k) Summary: Stiles’ friends are more of a pain in the ass than usual around the holiday season. Just because he spends all of his time at his bakery, doesn’t mean he’s unhappy. So hiring a fake boyfriend seems like the perfect, simple solution. Instead Stiles stumbles onto a stupid quest to make Derek Hale happy. But surely that will all work out in time.

Fit hot guys have problems too (don’t objectify us with your male and female gaze) - (T, 1.7k) Summary: To Cora, 1:24 AM: im tired of guys just wanting to hook up with me. im like, guys, i know im pretty and i have a slammin bod and i love making out, but cant someone treat me with respect?? Derek is tired of being objectified. Enter Stiles Stilinski, hot mess who has an opinion about everything. Derek is surprisingly intrigued.

Gymnophoria - (T, 0.9k) Summary: Stiles is paranoid - he keeps feeling someone’s eyes on him. Surprisingly, no nefarious plans happen.

He got lost in my DMs (wanna be way more than friends) - (T, 2.8k) Summary: Derek is somewhat of an online hero, providing candid pictures of himself to anyone who wants persistent suitors to just go away already. Stiles… is suddenly surrounded by assholes who apparently really want to hear about how great his fake boyfriend is. Part 1 of Slide into those DMs

Heard you were tough (but you don’t look it) - (T, 3.6k) Summary: Derek is a protective Alpha, and whenever he sees a human in danger, he has to step in. Usually people are grateful. This guy? Not so much. 3 times Derek saves that ungrateful magic user’s life, and 3 times the ungrateful asshole saved his in return

Here we are two strangers (with nothing but this little spark) - (T, 6k) Summary: Stiles is only at this masquerade party for revenge. Theo Raeken has taken everything from him, and this is the only way he can get close enough to ruin his fucking life. He gets sidetracked by a mysterious stranger who’s looking for revenge of his own. Maybe they can help each other…

I might never be (your knight in shining armor) - (T, 2.9k) Summary: So, in Stiles’ defence, he didn’t actually know that the woman harassing the dude-sel in distress was an actual witch. Or that the dude in question was an Alpha werewolf who claimed to be able to handle himself. Stiles agrees to disagree on that one.

I take this magnetic force of a man (to be my lover) - (T, 6k) Summary: Derek is pretty happy with the mate he’s somehow chosen, even though Stiles has no idea - and no interest in Derek. But that’s fine. Except Peter just has to open his big mouth, because he clearly wants to ruin Derek’s life. Part 2 of Laura Hale is the best Alpha

I’d be a fearless leader (I’d be an Alpha type) - (T, 7.8k) Summary: Most teenagers would run off if they found a bleeding half-wolf, half-lady with red eyes snarling at them. But Stiles’ fight or flight response has always been a little fucked, and Laura Hale looks like she could use a break. Part 1 of Laura Hale is the best Alpha

I’m gonna light a spark (gonna hold my breath until the morning) - (T, 2.5k) Summary: Derek hates the bus, hates how people use it as an excuse to sit close to him and bat their eyelashes at him. And then this stranger who smells like home just falls asleep on his lap.

Lie under different stars (I’ve not seen you in the flesh for so long) - (T, 3,4k) Summary: In which Laura Hale is a queen of holding on to childhood mementos and seeing things her brother won’t, and Derek Hale rediscovers his love of Mischief.

The man who’s gonna marry you (make you feel alive) - (T, 4.2k) Summary: Only Finstock could marry the wrong people. Only Greenberg could fill out the papers wrong, but Finstock didn’t even check. It was like he wanted Stiles to be married to Derek Hale. And no one would want that, except maybe… Stiles.

No more dark sad lonely (k)nights - (T, 2k) Summary: Derek is an Alpha without an emissary, so his nosy betas made sure he attended the convention. Stiles is clearly in the wrong convention hall, because his Batman cosplay does not appear to be going over well.

Old you in the garbage (new you in display case) - (T, 13.4k) Summary: Stiles is lonely and desperate and suffering from a crush on the grumpiest librarian. So what’s a boy to do but cook up a ridiculous plan to get himself dated and/or finally get laid before the holidays? He just wants his She’s All That moment, okay? He never expected that the plan would actually help him get the guy.

Real life isn’t a movie (life doesn’t make narrative sense) - (M, 11.6k) Summary: Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.

Shoot your shot when you see em (he’s already in my DMs) - (T, 3.9k) Summary: Derek may or may not be falling in love with one of Laura’s employees, and he’s only ever spoken to him on the phone. Stiles doesn’t even know his name! But apparently, he does know how to slide into his DMs. Part 2 of Slide into those DMs

Some Cupid kills with arrows (some with mistletoe) - (T, 9.5k) Summary: It’s the same thing every time. Derek Hale comes home, the town is in a snit, and Stiles Stilinski polishes his metaphorical armor and gets ready for a battle of wits. Not that he considers Derek’s comments particularly witty. Their friends are just tired of the sexual tension and the rampant egos, and they’re ready to do something about it.

Such great heights (corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces) - (T, 3.3k) Summary: In which everyone in the pack is together and alive, because fuck canon. In which Stiles is surprised that Derek’s super hearing fails him. He just wants to know how tall Derek is, why is that such a big deal?

Teach me how to thrive (i was a loser just like you) - (T, 4.9k) Summary: Scott was cool now - the Squip had made sure of that. Stiles? Not so cool. All he has left are his cryptic conversations with perpetually wasted Derek Hale as he desperately tries to get an evil computer chip from taking over Beacon Hills.

We were young once (innocent and fun once) - (T, 5,3k) Summary: So maybe making Lydia jealous is just an excuse for him to finally talk to Derek Hale - it’s been ten years and clearly that high school crush is not over. There’s just a lot more to Derek than he was expecting.

We’ll put on a show (Scotty has to know) - (T, 7.7k) Summary: Stiles is a stubborn asshole, determined to have fun in Europe even though Scott stays behind in Belgium because of a girl. So asking a stranger to make out with him for the ‘Gram? Totally the best decision he’s ever made, and not just because that’ll totally show Jackson (and Scott!). Shame he won’t see the guy again, though.

What it looks like to forget (it’s easier that way) - (T, 4.9k) Summary: He has no idea who he is, but the stranger with the whiskey eyes is calling him Derek. And the guy has been sitting at his bedside for three days, so he’s got some credit. Especially because the guy smells like he should be his - though that is a supremely weird thought that he probably needs to figure out first.

You want forgiveness (I’ll give that to you) - (T, 2.8k) Summary: Derek is running from the Alpha, suffering from wolfsbane poisoning and he’s clearly losing it. Why else would he be seeing his mother - and everyone else he might as well have killed himself. But Stiles can’t just let him get what he deserves. Stiles never leaves him behind, even when he should.

You’re moving me around you (I said darling hold me) - (T, 14,5k) Summary: Derek is the only beta in a pack of two, blaming himself for the loss of their entire family. When his sister pays someone to get him used to human contact again, Derek preps himself for a couple unwilling handshakes before he kicks the stranger out of his den. Stiles is… not what Derek expected.