Ficlet: Every damn day || PG-13 || Derek/Stiles
Author: marishna
Title: Every damn day
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek, Stiles
Summary: When it’s all said and done and the fight is over, whatever fight it is, Derek takes Stiles home.
Warnings: N/A
Content Notes: Post-Nogitsune!Stiles, future!fic, present tense
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: 700-ish
Prompt: 242 - Greedy
Author's Notes: I started this fic a few weeks ago for one of the other prompts that I couldn't finish. It fit in well with this quote/image that I found when looking for something to inspire me..
When it’s all said and done and the fight is over, whatever fight it is, Derek takes Stiles home. He tucks him into the passenger seat and make sure he’s got heat if he’s cold or that the AC is just the right degree of cool if he’s warm.
He tries to feed him when they arrive at the house, offers to run a warm bath if he’s stiff or achy, runs through a list of things in his head that he knows Stiles enjoys and takes comfort in. Stiles usually refuses them all but Derek nevertheless persists each time because eventually there’s going to be something Stiles needs.
He takes Stiles to bed, leading him by the hand up the stairs. He can feel the tension in Stiles’ touch but also the sluggishness that betrays how drained he is as his feet fall heavy on each stair.
Stiles gets himself ready for bed without argument but there’s always a low-simmering rebellious streak in him that Derek waits for after every battle. Stiles still allows himself to be pulled into Derek’s arms once they crawl into bed together. He lets Derek manhandle him onto his side and be pulled in tight to Derek’s body, and doesn’t complain when Derek squeezes him tighter than would otherwise be comfortable.
He holds him as long as needed until they drift off together, and are able to greet the next day with fresh eyes and a clean slate.
It terrified Derek the first few times this happened and he worried about Stiles, his soul, his mind. He often thought back to those terrifying weeks when Stiles was possessed by the nogitsune and no one knew. He knows Stiles still has occasional nightmares about those days and Derek would do anything to make sure he never has them again.
He waits for the moment that signals the end of the night, the true end. Sometimes he has to wait longer, sometimes not at all. But it’s always the same signal.
Stiles sighs softly and all the fight leaves his body. He relaxes into Derek’s embrace, leaning back against him even more than Derek’s already got him pulled in, and melts. Only then can Derek even think about closing his own eyes to get a few hours of sleep.
He’s not sure why he didn’t realize it sooner. It comes to him as he’s tracing patterns with the moles on Stiles’ shoulder and upper back with his eyes.
Stiles was always more powerful than Derek. Not physically but in possibly every other way. Smart, cunning, manipulative, calculating...Stiles sees the forest for the trees and that clarity has always amazed Derek.
Stiles didn’t need to roar to make his power felt. He was a sarcastic walking, talking threat to anyone who dared challenge him just because they thought they could. Derek used claws and teeth and an iron fist, paired with incomplete memories of how his mother once ruled, instead of listening to his instincts.
He remembers a story Talia used to tell him and his sisters when they were kids, about the two sides of their wolves. It was a relatable metaphor, it just happened to be literal for them.
Inside everyone were two wolves, Talia explained; the evil side that played to anger, greed, and jealousy, and the good side that looked to hope, humility, and honesty. The most important thing to remember, in times of internal struggle, was which wolf to feed.
His own role in Stiles’ life, Derek realized over time, is to feed the good side of his wolf. To make sure he doesn’t lose his way or his footing, like Derek did. To make sure that Stiles is still able to be tucked in at night after a fight.
"You’re a good wolf," he murmurs into the back of Stiles’ head.
"Hmm?" Stiles mumbles back, signaling the start of his return to himself.
"You’d make a good wolf," Derek replies, heartbeat steady because it’s not a lie.
"Could take you down," Stiles yawns and burrows deeper into Derek’s embrace.
Derek listens to Stiles’ body settle and within seconds he’s asleep again so he doesn’t hear Derek whisper, "You already did."
Title: Every damn day
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Derek/Stiles
Character/s: Derek, Stiles
Summary: When it’s all said and done and the fight is over, whatever fight it is, Derek takes Stiles home.
Warnings: N/A
Content Notes: Post-Nogitsune!Stiles, future!fic, present tense
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: 700-ish
Prompt: 242 - Greedy
Author's Notes: I started this fic a few weeks ago for one of the other prompts that I couldn't finish. It fit in well with this quote/image that I found when looking for something to inspire me..
When it’s all said and done and the fight is over, whatever fight it is, Derek takes Stiles home. He tucks him into the passenger seat and make sure he’s got heat if he’s cold or that the AC is just the right degree of cool if he’s warm.
He tries to feed him when they arrive at the house, offers to run a warm bath if he’s stiff or achy, runs through a list of things in his head that he knows Stiles enjoys and takes comfort in. Stiles usually refuses them all but Derek nevertheless persists each time because eventually there’s going to be something Stiles needs.
He takes Stiles to bed, leading him by the hand up the stairs. He can feel the tension in Stiles’ touch but also the sluggishness that betrays how drained he is as his feet fall heavy on each stair.
Stiles gets himself ready for bed without argument but there’s always a low-simmering rebellious streak in him that Derek waits for after every battle. Stiles still allows himself to be pulled into Derek’s arms once they crawl into bed together. He lets Derek manhandle him onto his side and be pulled in tight to Derek’s body, and doesn’t complain when Derek squeezes him tighter than would otherwise be comfortable.
He holds him as long as needed until they drift off together, and are able to greet the next day with fresh eyes and a clean slate.
It terrified Derek the first few times this happened and he worried about Stiles, his soul, his mind. He often thought back to those terrifying weeks when Stiles was possessed by the nogitsune and no one knew. He knows Stiles still has occasional nightmares about those days and Derek would do anything to make sure he never has them again.
He waits for the moment that signals the end of the night, the true end. Sometimes he has to wait longer, sometimes not at all. But it’s always the same signal.
Stiles sighs softly and all the fight leaves his body. He relaxes into Derek’s embrace, leaning back against him even more than Derek’s already got him pulled in, and melts. Only then can Derek even think about closing his own eyes to get a few hours of sleep.
He’s not sure why he didn’t realize it sooner. It comes to him as he’s tracing patterns with the moles on Stiles’ shoulder and upper back with his eyes.
Stiles was always more powerful than Derek. Not physically but in possibly every other way. Smart, cunning, manipulative, calculating...Stiles sees the forest for the trees and that clarity has always amazed Derek.
Stiles didn’t need to roar to make his power felt. He was a sarcastic walking, talking threat to anyone who dared challenge him just because they thought they could. Derek used claws and teeth and an iron fist, paired with incomplete memories of how his mother once ruled, instead of listening to his instincts.
He remembers a story Talia used to tell him and his sisters when they were kids, about the two sides of their wolves. It was a relatable metaphor, it just happened to be literal for them.
Inside everyone were two wolves, Talia explained; the evil side that played to anger, greed, and jealousy, and the good side that looked to hope, humility, and honesty. The most important thing to remember, in times of internal struggle, was which wolf to feed.
His own role in Stiles’ life, Derek realized over time, is to feed the good side of his wolf. To make sure he doesn’t lose his way or his footing, like Derek did. To make sure that Stiles is still able to be tucked in at night after a fight.
"You’re a good wolf," he murmurs into the back of Stiles’ head.
"Hmm?" Stiles mumbles back, signaling the start of his return to himself.
"You’d make a good wolf," Derek replies, heartbeat steady because it’s not a lie.
"Could take you down," Stiles yawns and burrows deeper into Derek’s embrace.
Derek listens to Stiles’ body settle and within seconds he’s asleep again so he doesn’t hear Derek whisper, "You already did."