DiminutiveStorm
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Summary
Derek doesn’t usually start conversations, but today he feels like making an exception. “Are you okay? This is a lot more baking than usual, even for you.”
“What? What do you mean?” Stiles says, dropping his hands to his sides. His face cycles through about five or six different expressions before settling on something that’s probably trying to say “innocent and oblivious,” but… well. Derek might not know Stiles that well, but he knows Stiles is definitely not either of those things, ever.
“The cookies,” Derek says slowly. “That you leave on my doorstep a few times a week while I’m out on my morning run.”
Stiles glares down at the cookies Derek’s holding like they’ve betrayed him.
“We don’t talk about it,” Derek says slowly, unsure, “but I thought you knew that I knew it was you."
Series
- Part 21 of Tumblr fic
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“I know you and I are, like, werewolf-married, but dude, if I ever met Lydia Martin in person . . . All bets are off, is all I'm saying."
It's not like Stiles really means it (does he?), but it still makes Derek’s hands clench into claws on the steering wheel.
"Yeah, if," he says, and keeps his eyes on the road.
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- Part 3 of Tumblr fic
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Based off the prompt, "[burglar gently wakes me] You live like this?"
Series
- Part 14 of Tumblr fic
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It starts when Derek is sitting in study hall and the guy ahead of him–-Stiles something, the Polish kid with all the moles–-mutters, “Ugh, what’s sixty percent of fifty-five?”
“Thirty-three,” Derek says without having to think about it. He’s always been good at math.
“Oh, thanks, dude,” Stiles says. “I forgot my calculator, and Mr. Harris is a dick who won’t let me go get it.”
“No problem,” Derek says.
He assumes that’s it, that’s the end of the conversation, but Stiles catches up to him in the hall after class, scuffs his sneaker against the floor and says, "Hey, so, you’re really good at math. Like, you solved that in your head, right? No calculator?“
"Yeah,” Derek says, and Stiles bites his lip, asks, “Do you maybe wanna study with me later, in the library?”
Derek does.
Series
- Part 4 of Tumblr fic
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“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”
Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.
Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.
“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.
“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”